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fandom-imagines-stories · 1 year ago

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Trois Surprises

Aramis x Reader (The Musketeers)

Words: 6719

Summary: Aramis and the reader are changed forever by three joyous surprises.

Notes: I write a lot of angst for him, but dammit, this man deserves to be happy. And I wanted to write him actually being able to spend time with his kids. Also, the title is ‘Three Surprises’ in French, I just didn’t know ‘surprises’ is spelled the same way. At least that’s what translate said. Please don’t come for me. This also doesn’t follow any plots from the show, so ignore the timeline haha.

More Musketeers HERE

The garrison greeted you with metal clashing and the smell of sweat. Men shouted at each other across the way with language that was far from proper. It didn’t bother you, of course. In your time frequenting the training area, you’d grown used to its oddities and eccentricities.

A few of the men cheered to greet you and asked how you were or what brought you to the garrison, though they already had an idea. You were here for Aramis. You were always here for Aramis. Or for shooting lessons, which the captain had approved since you lived alone and association with the musketeers often led to trouble.

“Y/N!” A boisterous voice called. Porthos hopped up from the table he sat at and crossed the courtyard. Not one for propriety, he pulled you into a hug without a second thought. You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “What brings you here?”

He led you back to the table and brushed off the bench for you to sit.

Athos tilted his hat. Unlike his companion, he enjoyed upholding some of the rules of society. “Mademoiselle Y/L/N.”

“How many times must I tell you to call me Y/N?” You teased.

“If I did, you wouldn’t have to tell me any more,” he smirked. “I assume you’re looking for Aramis.”

You nodded. “I have important matters to discuss with him and Captain Treville.”

The two exchanged a look.

“Sounds serious,” Porthos said. “Anything we should know about?”

“All in good time, boys,” you beamed. “I promise I won’t leave you in the dark for too long.”

D'Artagnan eyed you curiously. Perhaps your closest friend among Aramis’ companions, it was unusual for you not to share something with him. You gave him a reassuring nod and he trusted he’d find out what all this was about in due time. It didn’t stop his mind from searching the possibilities, though.

The imploring silence only lasted a moment longer.

“Y/N?”

And just like that, at the sound of his voice, your knees turned soft and your heart stopped beating. Every nerve in your body seemed to bunch and twist in your belly. You turned, Aramis’s eyes sparkling at you in the morning light as a smile crept onto his face.

“I had no idea you’d be here,” he grinned, kissing your cheek.

“I had something I wanted to share with you before you galavanted off into danger somewhere.” The tremble in your voice made his face darken with worry. His gaze flicked to his companions and they took the hint, hurrying off to the side to give the two of you some privacy. You began to fidget with your cloak. “I hope my coming on short notice isn’t a nuisance.”

“No, please.” He took your hands in his and brought them to his lips. “You are my favorite kind of surprise, darling.” His dark eyes looked deeply into yours. “Is something the matter?”

“Not exactly…” You’d rehearsed the words numerous times and it was completely in vain. You might as well have been mute, standing before him with a blank, panicked expression, which of course only made him look more concerned.

“My love, you’re starting to frighten me,” he laughed nervously and tucked a hair behind your ear. “You can tell me anything.”

You took a deep breath, placing a hand on his chest.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Porthos whispered. The three, having been observing from afar, watched on as you stared down at the dirt and Aramis lifted your chin with his finger.

“That’s between the two of them,” Athos said. “It’s none of our business.” However, he did not, nor did the other two, turn away.

You said something none of them could hear. Aramis’s arms fell to his sides, face turned white as a sheet. His mouth floundered open and closed, unable to say anything.

“You don’t think she’s broken things off, do you?” D’Artagnan asked.

After a moment of this awkward, anxious tension that even they could feel from across the courtyard, Aramis seemed to snap to his senses. He lifted you off the ground and spun around, a smile as wide as the Seine spread across his face. Your laugh rang throughout the space and when he set you down, your arms hooked around his neck, lips locking together for longer than what was probably publicly acceptable.

Athos turned to the youngest member of their group. “I take that as a no.”

Aramis kissed you one… two… three… more times before you said something about going to the market and left, holding his hand until the last possible moment.

When the marksman returned, his friends stood with brows raised and curious smiles. Porthos patted him on the back.

“What to share what that was all about?”

Still, with a starstruck grin, Aramis gazed around in a daze. Like before, his mouth fell open and nothing came out. He was sure his heart had stopped beating. Or perhaps it wasn’t there anymore. It was with you, as it always had been. Now more than ever.

He looked up at his companions- his friends- the men he trusted with his life and the words simply fell from his lips.

“Y/N’s pregnant.”

“I don’t know if I can wait much longer,” you whined, breathing slowly and deeply as you took a seat at the table.

Constance smiled. “You only have, what, a month or so to go?”

“Yes, and I feel like I’m the size of Notre Dame.” You laid a hand on your bulbous belly and laughed. “I look the size of Notre Dame.”

“Nonsense,” she chuckled along with you, setting a plate of bread and bowl of stew in front of you. Constance peeked out the door and shook her head. “They’re late. Again.” Despite the playful annoyance in her voice, there was a sparkle in her eye. One you recognized well.

“You know… D’Artagnan has been speaking of you more and more since I became pregnant. I dare say he even sounds hopeful.”

“Don’t start,” she swallowed. She took a rag and started to wipe down the table in order to avoid your gaze. “I, in case you’ve forgotten, am married to the man who supplies your fabrics. D’Artagnan and I are merely friends.” The younger woman glanced up at you with a kind of admiration. “It isn’t like what you and Aramis have.”

You scoffed. “I’m his mistress.”

Her eyes softened with sincerity. She put a hand on your arm. “You’re a great deal more than that.”

You averted your eyes, feeling the hint of tears begin in them and focused on the meal before you. Despite his adoration and his devotion, you knew not to hope for more than what you were given. And you had no complaints, of course, Aramis was the light of your life and to have his child was more than you ever imagined. But he was a hero. You were a seamstress.

As if summoned by your brief sorrow, the door to the cottage opened and you heard two pairs of thundering steps coming down the hall. While not banished completely, your doubts were pushed to the back of your mind upon the sight of Aramis’s grinning face.

“Sorry we’re late, ladies,” he said, removing his hat with a smug flare. “Paris needed saving.”

“When doesn’t it?” You laughed. He leaned to place a kiss on your forehead, hand falling lovingly to your belly.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered against your skin. Aramis basked at the sight of you in the setting sun, golden rays streaming through the window. “Like an angel in heaven’s light.”

A lovely pink color crept onto your cheeks. “You flatter me too much.”

“My love, my words will never be enough.” Aramis brought your lips to his with passion and sweetness, despite the other two in the room. He set his weapons aside, his coat along with them, and sat next to you. Seeing the billowing sleeves of his shirt reminded you of your work earlier in the day.

“I almost forgot, I repaired the tear in your shirt. I’ll have to go fetch it.” You started to stand- with more than a little effort- and he laid a hand on your shoulder to set you back down.

“Please, don’t trouble yourself, darling.” He kissed you again. “I’ll get it.” As he sauntered into the other room, Constance gave you a knowing look you did your best to ignore.

“Any news on the Red Guard?” D’Artagnan asked. You were glad of the change in subject, though Constance rolled her eyes at his abruptness.

“Unfortunately, I don’t seem to be the favorite to stitch their uniforms ever since-” You motioned to the rather obvious reason at your middle.

“Ah,” D’Artagnan nodded. “Right.”

Having made a reputation as having the most reliable repairs of any affordable seamstress in Paris, you’d often had members of the Red Guard come to you, as they were ‘too above’ mending anything themselves. It did, however, allow you to overhear things here and there, which you took to the musketeers. But keeping your relationship with Aramis a secret was hard enough. Now, with such a drastic change in your appearance, they’d kept their distance, though whether it was because you were unmarried or if they suspected you to be somewhat of a spy for your child’s father, you couldn’t tell.

The two of you looked at each other for a moment before you couldn’t contain your laughter. D’Artagnan sat beside you and asked you questions of a lighter variety while you pleaded to hear of the day’s adventures. Aramis always worried he’d distress you, so you received all the juicy details from the youngest musketeer. Through your friendship with Constance, D’Artagnan had become one of your closest friends as well.

A lull fell upon your conversation and you couldn't help but note how his eyes drifted back to your mutual companion by the fire.

One day, you thought…

A sudden movement within you forced a gasp from your lips. Aramis returned to the room in seconds.

“Love, what is it? Did something happen?” He knelt by your side with loving, concerned eyes.

“Yes,” you beamed, placing a hand where the movement was. You looked into his beautiful gaze and felt yourself overtaken by the excitement. “I believe he just kicked.” Gently, you took his hand and guided it to where you’d felt it.

“He?” Aramis awed, raising a brow.��

You shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

Another motion fluttered against Aramis’s hand, this one stronger and almost more aggressive than the last. Aramis chuckled.

“I think she may disagree with your feeling.”

“Oh, a girl then, is it?” You smirked.

He shrugged, mocking you affectionately. “Just a feeling.”

He’d come as soon as he heard. All of them had. The four musketeers stood in the lobby of your shop, none of them able to sit down. Athos leaned against the wall, he and Porthos watching the windows as if for some dastardly foe. D’Artagnan tried to distract himself by sharpening his sword. Aramis paced at the foot of the stairs leading up to your rooms.

The midwife wouldn’t allow him to be with you, despite his protests. Only Constance was permitted to accompany her in tending to you. It took all three men to hold him back when your screaming began.

Hours of this hell passed. He paced until he was sure the soles of his boots would scuff clean off.

“Can I ask you something?” Porthos asked. He hoped to distract his friend from his pain but, in truth, it was something they’d all been wondering for months. Aramis stopped his hurried steps and turned with a nod. Porthos swallowed. “Why haven’t you married her?”

“Porthos now is hardly the occasion,” Athos scolded.

“We have to talk about something, else we’ll all go mad with her up there.”

Aramis held up a hand to silence them both. The three waited with bated breath as he looked up, wishing to float through the ceiling and be by your side.

“Because she doubts me,” he said with an unexpected sadness in his voice. He looked back at them. “She doesn’t believe that my love for her is genuine. I can feel it when her smile falters or when her hand falls from mine.” He turned away. “To ask her for her hand because of the child… it would only prove what she believes.” Aramis clenched his fist at his side, then relaxed it again. This idleness would destroy him if this was not soon over. “I could not force her to marry a man that she doubts.”

The others nodded in understanding, though none of them truly understood, especially D’Artagnan.

He’d never seen two people who loved each other more than you and Aramis. He wanted to scream at both of them until his throat was sore if he thought it would help. Seeing the two of you so clouded with your own doubts hurt him more than he could say. The younger man just couldn’t fathom it. He’d give anything to have the opportunity to marry the woman he loved.

The matter of your reputation, of course, had already been discussed. You told anyone who discovered your condition that you’d married while away in Gascony and that your husband was a merchant who traveled often and you always met with him back in Gascony. Most people didn’t care enough to gossip about an orphaned woman with little prospects to begin with. It’d been your idea to lie and Aramis accepted it as you being as unsure of him as you thought he was of you.

What killed him the most, despite his charming demeanor and always knowing the right words for the right people, was that he had no idea how to convey to you how he truly felt. He reminded you of his love every moment he had with you, and yet he knew you didn’t fully believe it. What else could he do but keep trying?

Another aching shriek echoed through the chamber, followed by a silence, and then… cries. An infant’s wailing filled the house.

Aramis raced up the stairs before the others could stop him.

The door to your bedroom opened and Constance stepped out, quickly closing it behind her. She had a bundle in her arms. The auburn-haired woman beamed at him.

“Would you like to meet your son?”

Suddenly, he couldn’t move. He just stared at Constance, stunned, as the baby continued to cry. It was as if he’d forgotten how to use his limbs, everything numb with a strange mix of disbelief and utter joy.

A son.

He stepped forward and spoke with a shaking voice. “Y-yes.” He felt like a child himself, standing before her with arms outstretched.

Constance, still grinning, gently placed the wriggling bundle into his awaiting embrace.

He couldn’t believe how small he was. His son. A tiny fist reached out. Aramis gave him his pinky to grasp onto, his little fingers not even able to wrap all the way around the digit. He rocked the baby in his arms, cooing slightly. The boy stopped crying.

“I have a son,” he gasped. He turned to the stairs, where his three friends had gathered at the bottom. His tone raised to a cheer. “I have a son!”

A chorus of joyous hollers and applause filled the stairwell.

The celebration, however, was cut short as another round of your screaming cries The boy in his arms began wailing again. He held him a little closer to soothe him, but Aramis had gone white.

“What’s happening?” He asked.

Constance shook her head. “I-I don’t know. I thought everything was fine.”

A guttural grunt. Another scream.

Aramis passed his son back to Constance and started toward your door. The three men had already climbed the stairs with worried expressions.

“You aren’t supposed to-” Constance started, but she stopped as soon as she saw Aramis’s look of absolute panic.

He burst through the door.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” Aramis rushed to your side, brushing a sweat-soaked strand of hair away from your cheek.

“Aramis?” You muttered, almost dreamily.

“You shouldn’t be in here monsieur,” the midwife scolded.

Your knees were pulled up before her. He tried not to look, for the bed sheets were slick with blood and it only made him panic even more. He, instead, looked into your eyes and you looked into his, the comfort of those dark brown irises grounding you through the pain.

“Something’s… happening…” You took heaving breaths in between your words. His hand found yours and you held onto it with a near-crushing grip.

“There’s another,” the midwife said.

Both of your heads snapped up to look at her and you spoke at the same time.

“What?!”

She peered up at you, cast a disapproving look at the father, but decided it was too late to force him out of the room.

“Just as we did before,” she instructed. “Ready? Three… two…”

For the first time, there was quiet.

The midwife had gone, having gathered the soiled blankets and bowls of water. Aramis sat beside you, one arm around your shoulders, your son blinking up at both of you from your embrace. With the other arm, he held your daughter.

“I doubt I’ll ever understand what I’ve done in my life,” he whispered, kissing your forehead, “to deserve all of this.”

You turned your head to kiss his lips lightly, reaching a hand to caress your daughter’s soft cheek.

“It seems impossible for two things so perfect to come into my life at once,” you mused, bringing your hand up to his face. “And you… to have you for as long as I have. I can’t imagine what I’ve done to be so blessed.”

Aramis leaned into your touch, the hair of his beard tickling your palm as he nuzzled your skin. Those near-ebony eyes looked into yours with a love more powerful than he’d ever felt before. He wanted, right there, to ask you to marry him.

A knock at the door was followed by Constance peeking her head into the room with an excited, but exasperated expression.

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold them off,” she laughed. “I haven’t told them anything, like you asked, other than that everything is alright, but I don’t think they’ll believe me until they see you.”

Aramis chuckled, the vibration rumbling against you. Your daughter stirred against his chest, stretching her tiny arms toward him. He leaned to kiss her forehead.

You beamed. “Let them in.”

Constance nodded, smile growing, and turned back to the door.

“Be quiet, all of you,” she ordered. “I don’t want you scaring them.”

D’Artagnan’s brows drew together as he stepped in first.

“Them?”

As the two others piled in behind him, all halted abruptly, their eyes darting between you and Aramis and the not one, but two infants in your arms. Confusion turned to shock and finally to unbridled excitement.

“Twins!” Athos exclaimed with one of the first real smiles you’d ever seen on his face.

Porthos was still glancing between the two. “Twins?”

It was D’Artagnan who stepped forward first and placed a hand gently on your shoulder, his joy for you clear in his dark eyes.

“It’s incredible,” he said. He glanced up at Aramis with the same warm kinship. “I can’t begin to say how happy I am. For both of you.”

The other two gathered on Aramis’s side of the bed and shared similar congratulations.

“Have you thought of names?” Porthos asked.

“Actually, we thought we’d get your thoughts,” Aramis said, glancing over at you with a smirk. He touched a finger to your daughter’s nose. “For her, we were thinking of Christine.” She swatted at his finger lightly, making her father laugh again. “She’s quite the fighter already, hm?”

“I wonder where she gets that from,” Porthos smiled and patted him on the back.

“For our son,” you took a deep breath and looked up at your friend beside you. “We thought Charles would be fitting.”

D’Artagnan’s mouth fell open and his eyes filled with even more admiration and feeling than before, which didn’t seem possible.

“C-Charles?” He asked, as if he’d heard you wrong.

Aramis nodded. “Charles.”

“But only if you’ll allow it,” you said, reaching for his hand. “You’ve just been such a good friend to me- to us- and I hoped you would be his godfather as well, but if-”

He took your hand and brought it to his lips. “I would be honored.” His voice was heavy with emotion, tears of joy welling in his eyes.

“We’ve already asked Constance to be godmother to them both,” Aramis said. He turned to his best friend. “I was hoping, Porthos, that-”

“Do you even have to ask?” Porthos chuckled. He leaned over your daughter and made a face.

She started to cry.

“Congratulations,” Aramis sighed. “You’ve already frightened off your goddaughter.”

Porthos made another face and she stopped. He raised a brow at Aramis, beaming. You snickered at their antics.

“They are beautiful children,” Athos said, leaning against the dresser. “I can’t say enough how happy I am for the two of you.”

“Oh don’t feel left out, Athos,” Porthos teased. “I’m sure you can be godfather to the next one.”

You snorted. “I think he may have to wait a while for that.” Everyone in the room laughed. D’Artagnan gazed down at your son, still trying to hold back tears.

“Would you like to hold him?”

He gulped. “Can I?”

You smiled and carefully handed your son to his namesake. Aramis did the same with your daughter, slowly putting her in Porthos’s arms. And just like that, you watched the two grown men turn to puppies, all wide eyes and cooing smiles.

A happy tear rolled down your cheek. Aramis pulled you closed and kissed it away. You knew, more than anything in the world, that your children would be safe. And they would be loved.

III

He rocked the child in his arms with the whispers of a lullaby on his lips.

“Lullay, thou little tiny child,” he sang softly, “bye, bye, lully, lullay. Thou little tiny child, bye, bye, lully, lullay…” Aramis smiled and kissed his sleeping son’s forehead before laying him gently in his crib. Charles’s nose twitched and he stretched his tiny arms but didn’t stir.

Aramis watched him in wonder. Ten months and he still couldn’t quite believe all of this was real. His heart ached from being so full.

A small clattering sound drew his attention away and he felt his heart stop in a panic. Aramis rushed across the nursery and plucked his daughter from the floor before she could pull another one of his swords off of the table where he’d placed them.

“Christine d’Herblay, how many times must I tell you to leave Papa’s things alone?” He scolded, nuzzling her cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do if you hurt yourself, darling.”

She leaned into his embrace, looking up at him with those big eyes with a perfectly innocent expression. Quite cunning, he thought, for a toddler. Of course, he melted instantly and began bouncing her up and down. Her bell-like laughter filled the room, as well as his chest.

The door to the nursery opened and you stepped in with messy hair stuck down by sweat from your exhaustive day and a harrowed expression. Your eyes fell upon the sheathed weapon on the floor.

“I tell her to leave them,” Aramis said. “But she doesn’t listen to me.” He tickled her side, earning more laughter. “Just like your mother, aren’t you?”

You didn’t laugh. Instead, you sighed and stooped to pick up his sword from the ground. From there, you began picking up everything you could find, tidying up the room in a flustered hurry. Aramis placed Christine in her crib beside Charles’s and took your hands in his to stop your anxious movements.

“What’s happened?”

You bowed your head. “Nothing.”

“Y/N…” He sighed, laying a hand on your cheek. You pulled away.

“It’s this Rocheforte.” You ran your fingers through your hair, more aware than ever of their lack of ring. “He isn’t like the cardinal- which I thought would be a good thing- but he’s somehow worse. He’s suspicious and- and cunning, and his men are asking more and more questions when I’m called there to repair uniforms.” Your rambling caught in your throat, paired with tired tears.

“What can I do?” Aramis asked. “You know it pains me to see you in distress. Just say the word, and I’ll have the heads of half of the Red Guard by sundown.”

“It isn’t just them.” You shook your head. “I’m just… so tired of lying, Aramis.”

Christine made a cooing sound. Charles yawned.

Aramis stepped toward you. “Then let us make it the truth.”

You paused, making sure you’d heard him correctly. Aramis continued.

“Marry me and none of this will matter. You can stop spying for Treville and the Red Guards will have the whole of the musketeers to face if they bother you again.”

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, but you wiped them hastily away. At first, he thought they were tears of joy, but the closer Aramis looked, he knew he was wrong.

“I will handle Rochefortes prying myself. He’s likely figured out you are the true father and is just trying to frighten me into admitting it.”

“Y/N, I don’t understand. The solution for this is simple-”

“I will not doom you to a life you don’t want simply because it is the simplest answer!” you said, louder than you’d meant to. Charles awoke with shrieking cries.

“A life I don’t want?” Aramis scoffed, trying to hide his hurt. “What are you talking about?”

“My answer is no, Aramis.” You moved to pick up your screaming son. “Marrying is clearly something you’ve never wanted and I’m not going to allow you to sacrifice anything for me when the children and I have done just fine in the current situation.”

Aramis reached for both of you.

Christine started to cry as well.

“Y/N-”

“I think you should leave.” You didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, you focused on your children in order to hide your sorrow from their father. “I’ll watch them now.”

Aramis didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to kick himself for his insensitivity. He’d known of your doubts for so long and yet he sprung marriage on you as if it were nothing more than a way to fix a problem.

“If that is what you wish,” he sighed and left, closing the door behind him while the children’s crying followed him out.

He knew how he felt. He just needed to prove it to you.

You saw no one else for the remainder of the evening. Only your children kept you company, and even they seemed more interested in empty spools rolling around on the floor. Not that you minded. With them so distracted, you found it easier to let yourself cry.

He asked you to marry him.

How many times had you dreamt of Aramis saying those words and yet now they felt like musket shots to your heart. He saw you as a burden. A duty to fulfill. You could never live like that, even if it meant being free of the jeers of the Red Guard.

You only wished you could regret ever involving yourself with the musketeer, but your heart forbade it. Whether or not he felt the same, your love for Aramis had given you the world. The proof sat before you with their carefree laughter. Your son and daughter with their smiles just like their father’s. The time you’d gotten with them, with him, was worth all of the heartache.

It was late when you finally got them both to go to sleep. One was always waking the other, but eventually, Charles and Christine laid in their cribs and soundly drifted off.

You tried to finish up some work on a dress order at the table in the nursery,, but found your eyes unable to stay open. You must have fallen asleep as well, for the next time you opened them, the morning sun greeted you.

And the children were gone.

You were awake in an instant, tearing through your small apartment, but finding nothing. It wasn’t until you could hear Charles’ laughter that you hurried down the stairs, finding your son in the lap of his namesake and Christine grasping at a flower that Athos held over her playfully.

“Morning,” Porthos greeted.

You smacked the back of his head. “Don’t do that,” you exasperated, “I thought they’d been taken by miscreants or something.”

“We just didn’t want to ruin the surprise,” D’Artagnan smiled.

“What are you talking about?”

“It seems we are replacing you, for the day,” Athos explained, picking up Christine to give her to you. “The three of us are to deliver your finished orders.”

“While the four of us spend this beautiful day out, as a family,” Aramis said, having appeared in the doorway with a basket in hand and dressed in a casual tunic rather than his uniform.

Your heart fluttered at the thought, but your mind refused to give in so easily. After all, it was only the night before that you’d nearly cried yourself to sleep over the discussion you’d had with the man before you. But the charming smile on his face and the look in his eye made it awfully difficult to argue.

“I don’t know.” You made a point not to look at him. “I have so much still to do and-”

D’Artagnan stood, picking up your son and raising his brow at you. “Take the day, Y/N,” he said. “You deserve to rest.”

“Plus, he’s been going mad all night, which has driven all of us mad, as well,” Porthos muttered, motioning to his nervous friend in the doorway. “Go on,” he encouraged. “What trouble could we get into delivering a bunch of dresses and coats?”

“I don’t really like to think about it,” you frowned.

“I will make sure that everything gets to its proper place,” Athos assured you, making you feel a little bit better.

Aramis stepped inside, taking Charles from D’Artagnan and giving you a pleading glance.

“It’s a beautiful day, my love,” he said. “Let us spend it as a family.”

Any lingering frustration you’d felt from the night before was no match for his soft, wanting tone. And beneath his charisma, you knew that there was something else. Something far more serious. Whatever it was, you knew it was better to talk now than dance around it while the two of you buried yourselves in your work.

“I suppose I can spare one day,” you said.

Porthos and D’Artagnan cheered but were silenced by a look of annoyance from Athos. Aramis just lit up, kissing your cheek.

“You won’t regret it,” he whispered against your skin. But when he turned back to the door, son in his arms and his two girls behind him, he muttered to himself, “I hope.”

It was the first moment of peace you’d experienced in months. The only sound- other than the occasional cheer or coo from one of the children- was the slight breeze through the meadow flowers. The morning passed like dandelion seeds floating through the air.

Charles and Christine crawled around and explored the small plot of grass you’d found for them. Christine chased a butterfly and Charles plucked a light blue flower from its stem and brought it back to your lap.

“I see he’s inherited your charm,” you said, taking in the blossom’s sweet scent.

“And she your spirit,” Aramis pointed out, gesturing to the feisty toddler who was nearing the edge of the grass. He rolled onto his side and caught her in his arms before she could get too far. She whined, but only for a moment, before settling against his chest.

Despite the wonder of the morning, there was the crawling under your skin, whispers of your doubts reminding you of the hopes you’d felt had been dashed by your own fear. The fear that all of this would be gone in an instant. That he would finally tire of you and the life you’ve built and he would galavant off into the arms of another woman, into another battle, another fight he could not win.

You understood, then, looking at him under the swaying shadows of the willow tree above you, perhaps that was why you allowed your doubts to persist. Though you cared so deeply for him, you kept him at arm's length because the idea of him leaving of his own will was easier to take than a musket ball piercing his heart or a dagger across his throat.

The realization brought tears to your eyes. You bit your lip to hide the trembling, but Aramis knew in a heartbeat.

“Oh, my love,” he sighed. He set Christine beside her brother, both of whom had fallen asleep on the blanket. Aramis laid a hand on your cheek. “I fear I’ve made a grave mistake in the years we’ve spent together.”

You sucked in a breath and bowed your head, preparing for his regrets, his change of heart, and his announcement he was going to leave. He hooked a finger under your chin and lifted your face back to his.

“I have known you believe me to be with you out of a sense of duty. I have allowed you to believe that you are little more than a distraction grown into an obligation.” Taking your hands in his, his voice softened due to the overwhelming emotion in his tone. Now it was him trying to hide his tears. “I have wished my words of devotion were enough to convince you, but my actions last night have done just the opposite and for that, I deeply apologize.”

“Aramis-” You started, but he stopped you with a squeeze of your hand.

“I love you,” he said. He kissed the inside of your wrist, dark eyes watching you, so full of adoration and care that you held back a sob. Aramis held your palm to his cheek. “Every breath of every day belongs to you. Every beat of my heart is devoted to our family. Not out of any sense of duty. In fact, you’ve tangled my senses all together.” He chuckled, the lovely sound vibrating up your arm. “I can’t tell sunset from sunrise because you are my new sun. I don’t know which way is south because you are my north star.”

You found yourself leaning into him until you were but a few shallow breaths apart. Aramis turned his gaze to the sleeping children beside you.

“You have made me a father,” he beamed. “A dream I’d forgotten I had. You have made me a better man. Better than I thought I was capable of being. You are not an obligation, Y/N.” His eyes returned to yours and he drew even closer to you. “You are everything.”

His fingers laced into your hair and pulled your lips to his, silencing any of your cries. You kissed him with a passion like no other, but mostly you kissed him with belief.

When you parted, you both smiled tearfully.

Aramis continued.

“Which is why-” He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, but it was no use. You left him completely breathless. “I ask you once more, to do me the honor of making me your husband.” He kissed the trail of tears on your cheek. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Aramis, I-” Your mind searched your heart for a reason to say no. It warned of loss and heartbreak. But you found that, no matter what, your guarded feelings would only be in vain. Your heart could not be protected by you alone because it did not belong to you. You pressed your lips to Aramis’s and whispered against them. “Yes. My answer is yes.”

You spent the rest of the day taking Christine and Charles around the city, proudly walking side by side. A few people whispered as you went by and several Red Guards glared, but quickly looked away with one deadly glance from your fiance.

The sun began to dip in the sky by the time you returned to the shop.

To your surprise- and much to your relief- the other men managed to get through a day without destroying anything, which was a fair accomplishment for them. Any conversation between them ceased when the four of you entered.

“Welcome back,” Athos said.

Three pairs of eyes stared expectantly.

“So…” D’Artagnan needn’t voice his question. He could tell from the light in your eyes what the answer would be.

You merely gave them all a simple nod and they practically leapt with joy.

With the children placed in their chairs, Porthos pulled Aramis into a crushing hug, D’Artagnan kissed your cheek, and Athos smiled brightly at you both, all voicing their congratulations.

“I take it the final part of the plan is still in motion?” Porthos asked with a wink.

“What final part?” You asked.

Aramis ran a hand through his hair, nerves returning.

“Well, now that everything is settled and you haven’t decided that you’ve had enough of me,” he said. “These fine gentlemen have agreed to watch Christine and Charles while you and I partake in a romantic evening together.”

“The picnic in the meadow wasn’t romantic enough for you?” You snickered. “I don’t want to take any more of their time.”

“It’s no trouble, at all,” D’Artagnan said. “Constance will be joining us as well.”

You gave him a suggestive smile. “I see.”

He rolled his eyes. “I think you’d better just find out what your last surprise is for today and let us take care of everything else.”

“We’ll take very good care of them,” Athos promised. “And I’ll make sure these two don’t get into any trouble while you’re gone.”

“As if you’re one to talk.” Porthos slapped him on the back. He quirked a brow at the couple before him. “Go enjoy your evening. We’ll drop them off in the morning.”

“But I still don’t understand.” You looked in between the four of them. “You all speak as if we have somewhere else to go. Unless you’re suggesting the garrison…”

Aramis reached for your hand with a smirk. “Just follow me.”

You kissed the children goodnight and thanked the men one more time before allowing Armis to lead you back down the street in the direction of the garrison. He stopped, however, at a building he’d made a point to admire earlier in the day.

“As much as I find the apartment above your shop charming, I thought this may be better suited to fit a family,” he said.

It was a small structure, but there was a cozy feeling to its appearance as well. The potential to become a home.

“It’s the perfect distance between the shop and the garrison, so neither of us would have to travel very far. I know it isn’t much, but Treville gave me an advance on my commission and the others chipped in as well. And I figured I could spend time fixing it up for us in between missions. I think, given some time and effort, it could be-”

You stopped him with a kiss.

“I love it,” you smiled. “And I love you.”

Aramis’s face split with a grin and he scooped you into his arms, kissing you deeply, despite the people passing you by.

“Wait,” you said, putting a hand on his chest. You raised a brow in amusement. “You bought this before you asked me to marry you. What if…”

He chuckled. “I was just really hoping you’d say yes.”

You pulled him into another kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair. With your hearts full and the first evening you’d had to yourselves since the children were born, he wasted little time carrying you inside and kicking the door shut behind you.

#aramis x reader #armis the musketeers #santiago cabrera #aramis #bbc musketeers #the musketeers #porthos #d'artagnan #athos #fluff #aramis fluff #romantic hero type

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penroseparticle · 4 months ago

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Penrose Song of the Day Day 35: You May Be Right by Billy Joel

I'm gonna be honest, for today I hit shuffle and picked the first song that came up. Sorry for the normcore, I'll bring you something foreign or unusual tomorrow.

In some ways, it's a little freeing to just write about the popular thing. Like kill the cop in your head right? I'm not writing these reviews for someone to say "wow Colton, impeccable taste as always" (except I kind of am, a little bit. Art is a cry for attention. It's saying hey look at this what do you think. If your art doesn't have a little bit of ego it's not art, it's a diagram). It's more so I can practice rumination. It's meditation. It's me writing my thoughts down and organizing them in some fashion. And it's to kind of dig in and say hey. What makes a good song. What makes a song resonant. Why do I like this.

Yesterday I had Orla Gartland on repeat. I thought for sure that was going to be today's song. I didn't even consider it. Too personal? We'll never know. But it's fun to say that once again I find my song choices in dialog. Why am I like this? I don't know. But! Have you considered you might be right, and I might be crazy? Songs are these cute little memetic nuggets that interlock with each other in new and interesting ways. Like legos in 4 dimensions with superposition available. Always fresh and new, even with old blocks.

This song is about an indestructible party terminator and I kind of love it?

In some ways I am kind of worried about myself. Hard To Love, Why Am I Like This, a lot of songs being like "I'm tough. I'm crazy! I'm unloveable dammit!!!!" And I can't believe that this song is like "Yep sure am, and that exact brand of crazy is what you wanted. You and I fit, like two legos in 4 dimensional superposition. Also, I drive a motorcycle and party on the weekends. We love dirty jokes and you were dying a little bit before I saved you by being a doofus. Let's get married and have a saxophone solo, cut the track, 3 billion dollars, 15 grammies, moneybaths.

This song is that gif of Ariana saying AND WHAT ABOUT IT??? So I'm crazy. Now what. I'm still here living, and I'll find the people who like this crazy.

There's like a little bit of humor, in this idea that you don't fit in the world. Like what a fucking ego to say that. Who do you think you are stupid!!! Babygirl not only can I find someone who likes your exact brand of stupid, I can find like 4 of them. I can find a make and model of them in mint green. I can find you in every season, in every flavor, for every occasion. You are not only not unique, but thank god for that. Thank god I found you. You are the lunatic I'm looking for.

There's nearing 8 billion people now and you think you're the only one who's like you?

That's not to say that finding "the one" or your perfect fit isn't possible. I'm saying it is. I'm saying there's a lunatic out there you're looking for. And you guys, like songs in dialog with each other, like my special 4D legos, change and shape and grow each other until you are, in essence, a perfect fit. Infinite solutions, infinite ways to play, infinite timelines.

I'm gonna be honest though- there's a few people I am SURE that I will find every time. That's what I choose to hold onto, at any rate.

The song itself is kind of iconic at this point? Songs that last 40+ years in the public conciousness kind of have something going for them, they simply have to. There's almost what we would now call a country sensibility to this song and its instrumentation. Apparently when the song came out it got compared (favorably) to Chuck Berry, and now that I've read that, I get it too. I think some of the drums sound. Plasticy? Hollow? There's a lot of drum hits that have the quality of hitting something with a long plastic tube. Or thumping a pool noodle on the surface. The Saxophone solo in the middle is so fucking funny to me now, because we would rightly call it a little hokey but also it's intensely nostalgic now. It's earnest, in a way few songs really try to be these days. And we go from Guitar solo directly into it, and I can't think of a better way to do that either. The harmonica? is of course, a Billy Joel staple, just with less pizzazz than in Piano Man. It's got all the ingredients.

There's some artists you can just. Tell. All the bits are there, and you could recognize them anywhere. Billy Joel feels like one of those artists to me.

I dunno, I just think it's neat. I love it. And hey. You? You could be dead right now, go listen something you love.

#fresh jamz #penrose song of the day

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beardedmrbean · 1 year ago

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Eh WandaVision was good, great even when it was an American sitcom through the decades and a tragic character study of Wanda Maximoff and an exploration of grief and toxic escapism less so with the finale where they changed things because the audience figured it out and cut cool things like the bunny familiar’s demon form . You can feel that it’s a love letter to sitcoms and it has a good balance between the silly , the scary and the sad. But overall I feel it’s a good continuation of the MCU post Endgame .

Will not comment on anything else post Endgame because I haven’t seen anything else post Endgame(Also didn’t see Endgame because I was pissed off they didn’t tell us what happened to Ava/Ghost and Bill Foster. I was invested in them dammit.)

I didn't see most of them, seen winter soldier a bunch of times because I'd downloaded it and it was something to watch, didn't see endgame or any of the Spiderman solo ones I don't think. Maybe saw 1/3 of the mcu movies that ended with endgame.

Wandavision was a show not a attempt at a blockbuster movie so kind of its own thing, like the "spiderverse" movies with Miles Morales and Spider Ham, which I didn't see those or Wandavision either.

Just they built up the universe to lead up to Endgame, which closed off a ton storylines and yes they are comic book movies and that just makes it so it can be time to start a new story line up which is totally cool.

But they need to drop the old cast and start up with a new one if they want to do that.

At least that's how I feel about it.

The other live action Spiderman films they did were good from what I could see, they helped finish up the story so we know what Peter Parker is doing, in 3 timelines even, which that was great fanservice, Garfield got his third, good to see Toby back in the suit too, he was a incredible Spiderman imho.

Pushing forward from there, there's too much to keep track of, hell there was too much by infinity war.

The well is dried up now, they need to give it a few years and then revisit the whole thing again.

Gonna be rough to top the cast they had for all of those tho, they were all pretty much perfect for their roles, big shoes to fill.

Disney knows that in some cases, be why instead of attempting a remake of Mary Poppins they did what they did.

Gotta find someone better than Julie Andrews, good luck with that one.

#anonymous

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purposelynana · 1 year ago

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What Did I Watch: #33

This week, I watched it scrambled like a fucking egg. Happy Eid btw. International dates for Eras Tour is out. I'm dead.

Perhaps I'm too used with people in their 20's acted like they were in their 30's and it was total cringe-fest. Or people in their 30's tried to convince me they were still college students. (Yeah you see where this is going). I don't know about Thailand entertainment industry but one thing, somehow they just don't have fucking clue how to cast someone. But at least from casting division I could really tell, people behind Step By Step were in fact adults with working jobs. Not some kind of teenager getting paid for making fan fiction in visual media.

I came to an understanding that Step By Step will be slow as fuck. I think this was a deliberate move by Tee Bundit. Because you deal with a potential HR violation in which could turn into catastrophic effect to both Pat and Jeng's career. You just can't make them kiss by episode 5 and called it done. But this brought new potential disaster that I didn't see it coming in the first 8 episode. Clearly this show doesn't have a seasoned editor and most importantly, but rarely people mention it, a script supervisor.

Because it has unclear timeline, jumpy transitions between scenes, and weird storylines that didn't push the narrative. It felt like it has so many great scattered ideas but not one conjoined constructive story.

In the article above, it explained that script supervisor responsible to maintain the continuity of its script. There were just too many continuity errors and it's such a pity because it already has the idea and goal, yet the journey seemed taking us to too many places.

I could go on and on about how not having a script supervisor could potentially ruining a series. But Step by Step is not finish yet and fucking let's hope it could stick the landing. It's going to have a rough landing but fingers crossed. (I just saw the preview for ep 12, it is a rough landing indeed. Prove me wrong universe.)

youtube

Oh god this little show. What a gem.

I have so much heart and love for Our Dining Table. If this was person, I'm going to hug them until I'm shattered to pieces.

It was hard to be an adult, lonely as fuck, having family but not really felt their presence. I have so much love for this show and yet it doesn't feel enough.

I'm almost 30, and yes I'm fucking tired to just watch myself never get to be represented correctly. A lot of these actors are on the same age as me and yet the story seemed never going anywhere. High school students, college students, barely office romances, and damn even I couldn't even get period dramas without having to deal with censorship (dammit China). When you got older, you resent everything, you became critical with everything. Even I'm no longer consider My School President is that good after I praised it earlier this year. In the end, series that I deemed good is the one that I felt so much connection to it. My emotional investment has to be in all time high. Like what I felt towards this.

The scene that breaks me into million pieces. You just need one person to tell you, you have done enough.

Lastly, I want to talk La Pluie. I don't know where this show's going. I'm scared. Because it could turned out to be great or it could end up like anything else, standard. The whole shenanigans about soulmates, love and everything in between got me thinking. Soulmates is definitely, most certainly, not fate. It's constantly changing, depends on your situation, your willingness, and your effort.

The characters in here, they were learning that they couldn't treat soulmates as if it were fate. As if it something already defined by God.

It is not. So I could understand Lomfon weird reaction on his newfound illness. Because he heard Tai's voice during rain, Tai must be (undoubtedly) his soulmate. Dude sounded like a kid, who wants to know reasons behind everything. Somehow I could sympathize him a little bit more, if the actor knew how to enhance his emotions. It wasn't bad acting, but yeah it kinda dull time to time, to the point I was out when he's in the screen. But yeah it's pulp, what can I expect? People acted like their life depend on it?

#Spotify #what did i watch #step by step #our dining table #la pluie #Youtube

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makeste · 3 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 318: On Your Left

Previously on BnHA: The Hawksquad+Lurkers were all “well this sucks” and sat around a bit talking about how maybe they should actually come up with a new plan that is actually good, but then in the end they were like “nah.” Deku was all, “THERE’S SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE!! CONSUMING, CONFUSING!! THIS LACK OF SELF CONTROL I FEAR IS NEVERENDING. IT’S HAUNTING HOW I CANT SEEM TO FIND MYSELF AGAIN. MY WALLS ARE CLOSING IN.” Just, literally that whole entire song. All Might was all “Deku you should take care of yourself, try eating a thing,” and Deku was all “BYE, ALL MIGHT,” and just LEFT. He left!!! What the fuck!!!

Today on BnHA: Endeavor is all, “maybe if Deku didn’t listen to All Might he’ll listen to me instead.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t listen to Endeavor]” because, well, yeah. The Vestiges are all, “surprisingly, even we are a little concerned -- maybe you should get some rest, kid.” Deku is all, “((Ò ‸ Ó)).” The Vestiges are all, “holy shit.” Deku is all, “[wanders the ruined city streets terrifying the populace on account of him looking like Shelob had a baby with one of the Nazgul].” Some shriveled-up puppeteer villain asshole is all, “HORIKOSHI SAID IT’S MY TURN TO ATTACK DEKU TODAY SO I AM GOING TO SUMMON MY FRIGHTENED HELPLESS ATTACK MOB!!” Kacchan is all “WHADDYA MEAN THEY FOUND THE NERD!!! -- oh wait, that’s me, I found him. I found the nerd, you guys.” And just in time, too. I was about to owe a whole lot of people a whole lot of dollars.

so I have been super good about spoilers this week as always, but let me tell you guys, for the past 36 hours my dash filters have basically been nonstop “manga spoilers” this and “bnha 318” that, and so I’m coming in with a fair amount of hype here. your move, Horikoshi

oh, good! they got Endeavor to call Deku to try to talk him out of it. what a great and wonderful plan

“listen up kid, you haven’t slept since March and you are basically a walking biohazard right now, I’m just telling it like it is. didn’t you get shot like three times?? and there was a whole thing about how you urgently needed medical attention?? and supposedly we gave it to you, but I mean you haven’t even changed your clothes and don’t seem to have any fresh bandages or anything, so did we?? did we, really?? and also we all got blown up yesterday, so yeah.” hmm he’s making some reasonable points here you guys, but you sure do go on and on, Endeavor

oh he says foreign aid is finally on its way! I’m sure they’ll be very helpful. I mean in fairness they can hardly be worse than the home-grown heroes at this point

hey Enji, could you maybe try appealing to Deku the sixteen-year-old human boy, as opposed to Deku The World’s Last Hope? he does have value beyond his quirk. I know that’s always been an incredibly difficult concept for you to grasp, but could you maybe TRY, jesus

and also we’re worried about you as a person?? you’re just a kid and you’re pushing yourself way too hard?? you were going to say that part next, right. why the hell didn’t Hawks make this call instead

“don’t worry about me... I’m completely fine” Deku you do understand that saying it over and over again doesn’t actually make it true

and again with the rush!! all the rush rush rush!! we’re running out of time, we can’t let AFO and Tomura keep getting stronger, I have to end this now, there’s no time to rest, etc. etc. etc. just the constant pressure of this whole big countdown on top of everything else

holy shit, you KNOW it’s bad when even the Vestiges are telling him to chill

these guys are basically the walking talking embodiments of self-sacrifice; if even they’re telling him he needs to take five, then he must seriously be like half a step away from death’s door

OH SHIT LMAO

DIDN’T EVEN LET HIM FINISH HIS SENTENCE BEFORE HE SENT HIM INTO THE FUCKING SHADOW REALM WITH THAT FUCKING LOOK. HOLY FUCK. DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IT WAS POSSIBLE TO DIE TWICE. SHIT

(ETA: so I’m pretty sure this was just Danger Sense activating and so he cut them off to go do more hero stuff, but I’m gonna go ahead and stick to my original interpretation anyway lol.)

anyway so how’s everybody doing. we all good? En, you good? Banjou? Shino? I’m imagining you guys all curled up in a little ball on the floor right now lol. can’t say I blame you though, no shame

lmaoooooooooooo

“SHEESH.” sheesh indeed, lmao. “what in the FUCK was that”

see, this is why y’all need Kacchan. you need someone who’s not going to back down from him no matter what. if it’s a matter of out-stubborning Midoriya fucking Izuku, then there’s only one other person on the planet capable of that, and we all know it. don’t pretend like you don’t. I am not going to shut up about this! we’ve had our hurt so now what about SOME COMFORT, DAMMIT

“I’m afraid that he’s becoming influenced by my conscience” nah are you kidding Nana this is all 100% made-in-Japan pure original Deku right here

see, Banjou gets it. “that kid, he’s totally going on his own.” exactly. this was so inevitable it was basically scientific law

“well I for one don’t see the problem with Deku being so obsessed with saving everyone else that he pushes himself until his body and soul literally fall apart” okay, whose speech bubbles are these?? we’re about to have words

lol of course

well you always did prefer the direct route didn’t you. but even you can’t possibly think this is okay lol

dark AU!Kacchan please tell us more about your badass doomed timeline in which everything went to shit and you apparently had the same character arc that Deku is having right now except it somehow made you sexier instead of turning you into a rabid t-rex. I have so many questions

oh so now you want to help??? well -- good, actually. sorry if that sounded offended just now lol

(ETA: so at first when I got to the end of this chapter I was wondering if Katsuki B. had somehow summoned his alternate-universe counterpart through trippy OFA space telepathy lol. but in the original Japanese there’s no reference to “we”, so this appears to be a mistranslation. this line should probably read more like “if there’s something/someone out there that would be able to complement/complete the current Midoriya Izuku [it would be]…” which, oh hello, is that Horikoshi once again reaffirming that Deku and Bakugou complete each other lol. “guess what guys, the Vestiges ship it too" heck yeah. they know what’s up!)

look how admiring his boyfriends are. HORIKOSHI GIVE US THE REST OF THIS BACKSTORY ALREADY GODDAMMIT

“meanwhile somewhere in the depths of the ruined city, Deku was having a dance-off with the villains”

I like how the villains all have this “AHH WHAT THE FUCK” kind of body language to them lol. I mean if it were me, and an eldritch horror suddenly clawed its way from the shadows with its writhing glowy tentacles and pants-shitting nuclear death stare, I would probably just die on the spot. no need to stick around. only pain awaits

lol for a minute I thought this was Can’t Ya See-kun and I was like “WHAT A FASCINATING CROSSING OF PATHS” but it’s just some random girl

he seems genuinely confused lol

Deku it’s because you look like something that crawled out of a sewer drain, sweetheart

lol they just took his word for it?

so trusting. even though they’re immediately hauling ass anyway just to be safe lmao

“my appearance is frightening to others” no shit Deku it’s because you look like a fucking alien exorcism. you look like a Lich that got caught up in an oil spill my dude

NO NOT THE CHOSEN ONE ANGST AGAIN

I RAN OUT OF ESSAY JUICE FOR THIS ALREADY HORIKOSHI!! I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT IT FOR MONTHS NOW WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!! BUT ANYWAYS, GOOD!! I MEAN, BAD, THOUGH, OBVIOUSLY. BUT YES

“ENJOY THIS MONTAGE OF DEKU BATTLING A RANDOM KAIJU AND WANDERING THE WOODS LIKE A DERANGED GREEN BABA YAGA” okay yes but sir, exactly how much longer is this going to go on. if it’s a matter of you wanting to make sure we get it, let me assure you that aside from a few stray chuunis who think that Deku embracing the Darkness is the coolest thing he’s ever done, all of us here in fandom fully comprehend that this is Not Good

-- OH SO IT’S LIKE THAT

really. with the flashbacks to his loved ones’ smiling faces and everything. not even gonna try to aim above the belt, huh

AND NO KACCHAN??! NO CLASSMATES?!?! IS HE PURPOSELY NOT THINKING OF THEM??? OR ARE THEY BEING SAVED FOR THE NEXT PAGE??? SO HELP ME, IF THE NEXT PART OF THIS SENTENCE IS “CAN PROTECT THEM”, OR EVEN WORSE, “CAN SEE THEIR SMILING FACES AGAIN”, I...

WHAT DID I JUST SAY

(ETA: my man did Sero and Kaminari fucking dirty lmao. I miss their smiling faces too omg.)

the sheer, unparalleled irony of him saying this while he stands there looking like the gargoyle demon from Fantasia got crossed with an umbrella that got struck by lightning. Deku :(

oi who the fuck is this clown

is he controlling this mob with his evil hair. “what if I made an exhausted, running-on-fumes Deku battle a brainwashed mob at Ground Zero.” Horikoshi do you just have like a checklist of horrible things you want to do to your protagonist

easy there Sasori

well joke’s on you buddy because he’s apparently “completely fine”, so

“here’s to hoping that you know more about AFO’s location than the others” jesus christ Deku you really have hung your mercy out to dry huh

now he’s forcing his mob of terrified prisoners to attack Deku ahhhh. sucks to be them. at least they’re not being controlled by bees

so Deku is saying that Sasori’s control can be broken with “physical trauma.” similar to Shinsou’s quirk I guess. but so does that mean he’s gonna have to hurt them? ( •﹏•)

NO NOT MORE SAD EYES

“DEATH BY EMPATHY!!!” HORIKOSHI NO

fuck. he looks like he’s on the verge of passing out

this is what happens when you nerf a character’s self-preservation stats in favor of spamming their bone-breaking stats instead. NOW ACCEPTING BRAIN CELL DONATIONS FOR A BOY IN NEED!! with your loving generosity we can hopefully help him live to the ripe old age of seventeen

OMGFGGG

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

[grabs your hands] ლ(*꒪ヮ꒪*)ლ [swings you in a circle] へ(ﾟ◇ﾟへ)

THASSSSSSSS WHATSSSSSSS UPPPPPPPPPP

HORIKOSHI REALLY SAID FUCK THAT MASK (ノ°ο°)ノ YOU FINALLY LEARNED!! IT’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!!

JUST FOR YOU KACCHAN, HORIKOSHI LEFT THIS ONE BAD GUY WHO’S STILL WEAK TO FIRE. GOD BLESS

IT’S YOUR COUNTERPART, KATSUKI B!!!! HOW WE DOIN OVER THERE IN THE TRIPPY COSMIC OFA SPACE REALM LOL. DO WE BELIEVE YET, FANDOM???

LIGHTS!!!!

INSTANT RESULTS!!! IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE!!!

(ETA: imagine what this must look like to Deku though. he’s been caught up in this dark cloud of despair and exhaustion that’s been building up over... I’m gonna go ahead and say “weeks”, because yeah. and now he finds himself here, in the place where All Might’s legacy ended and the torch was passed to him. and the world is in ruins, and he’s surrounded by frightened people who are all trying to hurt him -- because who isn’t trying to hurt him, these days -- and he’s scrambling to figure this all out, but meanwhile the weariness is finally starting to catch up to him, and so he’s basically just standing there in a fog of complete and utter misery.

and then all of a sudden through that haze, he hears the one voice that’s more familiar than any other that he knows. like, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was just imagining it at first. Kacchan showing up to save him right when he’s at his most desperate and feeling the most alone. Kacchan, showing up to save him.

this is the person he always looked up to as a child (to be fair he was quite a strange child lmao). the person who was even closer to him than All Might. the person he always thought was amazing. and bam, here he is now. appearing in the sky out of nowhere to one-shot the bad guy with a single blast (which, btw, that was his armor-piercing attack too lmao dslkjlk take it easy there kiddo). like, that must have felt absolutely surreal to him, especially coming at a time when he’s already half-delirious and barely hanging on to reality. he must have really thought that he was losing it there for a second.

but he’s really there. it really is him. and for this brief moment -- before the rest of the situation catches up to him, and he remembers about all of the fucked-up AFO stuff, and remembers why he was so afraid and why he was pushing everyone away -- for just this one brief moment, he’s too exhausted and stunned to do anything except to just react. just stands there, looking up at him in awe.

and you know, it almost reminds me of...

just. you guys. the character development. the freaking character development. someone who brings reassurance. someone who shows up and makes you think, “oh, it’s all going to be okay now, because [person] is here.” the role reversals. the growth. the payoff!! because who is the one person who always had faith that Kacchan would one day grow up to become an amazing hero like that. WHO IS IT. YOU ALREADY KNOW.

omg. anyways, bless you Horikoshi, my feels which have been on backorder since fucking September have finally arrived lmao. yes, good, thank you. worth the wait. it is always, always worth the wait. fuck yeah.)

“LOWFRIES” SO YOU’RE TELLING ME THE WHOLE GANG IS HERE, AHHHHHHHH (º̩̩́⌣º̩̩̀ )

BEAUTIFUL. WONDERFUL. SENSATIONAL. I DON’T EVEN CARE THAT JUMP IS ON BREAK NEXT WEEK. THIS RIGHT HERE WILL SUSTAIN ME

#bnha 318 #midoriya izuku #BAKUGOU KATSUKI #!!!!#twowy mctwoface #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bakudeku #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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mlm-writer · 3 years ago

Text

The Kappa Situation (Ray Palmer x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Ray Palmer (The Atom, LoT ver.) x Gender Neutral Metahuman Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 1915 Summary: You get injured, you get some flashbacks, Ray is a darling angel. Sexy times. Note: Mashed two requests together, then changed some wording to make it gender neutral since gender is sometimes so unnecessary. Uhh reader has the power to manipulate magnetic fields. Oh and a Kappa is a creature from Japanese folklore. Tags: flashbacks, love confessions, idiots in love, oral sex, and hinted sub!Ray... ok it is kinda there. OH AN NO BETA BECAUSE I AM LAZY

The ring moved slowly parallel to the metal bar it was around. With brows knitted in concentration, you manipulated the magnetic micro fields around it to move it to the finish without it touching the bar. You just passed your personal record. A smile formed on your lips as you moved it further. That was until the door to your room opened and the sound disturbed your concentration. The edge of the ring touched the bar lightly and a loud buzzer hurt your ears in punishment.

“Dammit! What do you want?” You turned around to find Ray in the door. He looked at you like a kicked puppy. “Ah Ray… Can this wait? I am in the middle of training.” He frowned. Normally he would have gone already and given you your space.

“I feel like you’re kind of avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?” He tilted his head. It was so cute. You tore your eyes away from him and grabbed the energy shake off the side table. That puppy look was exactly what you were trying to avoid. Dammit there were fairy godmothers and elves and whatnot wandering the timeline. There was no time for your dumb crush. Lives were at stake.

“No, not at all, don’t worry about it. I just have been concentrating on improving my microfields. You know that if I refine it I could generate electricity right? That skill will be necessary eventually and I don’t want to be the idiot who did not train enough to get us out of regular Legends shenanigans.” You sat down on your bed and took a good swig from the shake, concealing your face with the bottle.

“Oh… oh yeah ok,” Ray replied and you thought for a moment that he was going to leave you alone. However, he did not move from his spot. You kept on drinking, side-eyeing him. Your eyes raked over the perfect-fit jeans and the dark red sweater he wore on top of it. Oh how he was a champion of hiding his perfect body. When you came to his head, he had his eyes on you as well. You lowered the bottle and cleared your throat. “Can I uh…” Ray started, “God… I just want the truth. I don’t like people not liking me, especially not if I like them very much.” He ran his hands through his hair during his mini-ramble. The dark brown locks stood up in all directions now.

“I like you too, Ray. I promise, I am not upset with you.” You chose your words carefully as you rose to your feet. Ray caught on your words. He was used to realising that your ‘better’s never meant ‘good’ and your ‘no lies’ did not mean ‘full truth’ either. You wondered when he had learned your loopholes so quickly.

He walked inside, the door whooshing close behind him and the situation suddenly felt so intimate. “Not upset then… Perhaps disappointed?” You sighed and shook your head. He kept coming closer. “Then… Sad? Are you sad?” You chuckled and shook your head again. “Furious?” Another shake of the head. Another step closer. He stopped walking when there was half an arm’s length between you. He was talking, but you could not take your eyes off his perfect lips. You were so smitten. Dear Lord, have mercy on your soul.

Inhibition slipped you as you finally looked up at Ray. Your intense stare shut him right up. “Ray Palmer, I have been avoiding you because I’m super into you. Now please leave me alone or kiss me.” No one could shut up Ray Palmer like you. The boy scout with so many words turned into a gaping fish at your words. Since he was not jumping at the opportunity to kiss you, you pointed towards the exit, but he took a gentle hold of your wrist.

“No, no, I choose kissing… just… can we wait with that? I am pretty sure my breath still smells and I wouldn’t want our first kiss to be… gross… not that… I mean, ha, I am into you too, super into you, super duper…”

You did not kiss that day. The memory was cut off with a dull ache in your chest. You opened your eyes, squinting at the ceiling. “Where am I?” You mumbled to yourself. There was shuffling and suddenly your boyfriend was in your vision. He was rambling. How typical. “What happened?” You, very intelligently, inquired, cutting through the words with only two of your own.

Ray blinked at you. “You saved my life, don’t you remember?” As he stared at you with concern, you frowned, trying to remember.

The kappa ran between the trees and the bushes. Ray was hot on its tail, his smaller size allowing easy navigation through the highly vegetated area. It was a wonder how Japan from the future had dense forests within the city serving as a park. You moved into position near the park’s entrance. You saw the green creature run right past it and you started running parallel to it. The sidewalk was full, even at this late hour. People yelled at you as you pushed them aside. You were just in time to see Ray change back to his normal size and make a jump to catch the kappa.

He rolled over the sidewalk and right into the street. You sprinted as you spotted a hover car coming right at him. “Ray! Move!” You exclaimed, totally forgetting about your comm. You stopped in the middle of the crossroads and stretched out your arms. The magnetic field repulsed the hover car, slowing it to a stop right in front of Ray. You let out a sigh of relief, before you found yourself off your feet, right before everything went black.

“Ah yeah, a car. You’re welcome, by the way.” You held your arm out and Ray took it to help you up. He helped you out of the medbay. Apparently you were all good, just bound to be sore with some minor injuries to your rib that Gideon could not fix for you. “Where are the others?”

Ray was the perfect gentleman as he guided you to your new, shared room. “Still taking care of that kappa. We took it almost to the waverider, but it got away before the hatch was fully down.” You sighed, making a joke about how they were hopeless without you. Once in your room, Ray pulled you close and let you lean against him as he undressed you. You smiled as you smelled the mixture of his deodorant and grime of a long day. You helped him minimally, letting him undress you like a doll. Once you were down to nothing, he pushed you down onto the bed. “Don’t lie down yet. I’ll clean you up a little so you can sleep comfortably.”

You hummed and let him take care of you. Ray returned shortly after with a bucket of water and a small towel. He was methodical and careful as he wiped down your skin. You closed your eyes and let your head hang back. The second he was done, you carefully lowered yourself down onto the bed, legs still hanging off the edge. Ray walked over to your dresser to get you some underwear. You whistled at him. He looked over his shoulder at you, an unspoken inquiry on his face. “I am naked on our bed and there is no one on the ship. Don’t you want to make use of that?” You winked at him, making him laugh.

“As much as I would love to - for the record I really, really want to - I don’t think we should have sex with your injuries.” You pouted at him and trailed a hand down to your sex, rubbing yourself slowly, teasingly. “Uhm, uh…” You smirked when Ray was clearly having doubts about his righteous decisions. You saw his eyes follow the path of your fingers. “Just oral? I can do that, you can just lie there.” You failed at suppressing the grin that spread over your face. As he gestured to your body while suggesting you’d just lie there.

You chuckled and beckoned him over with your fingers. “I’ll take anything from you, but please lose your clothing as well.” Ray pulled his black shirt off in one smooth motion. He then unceremoniously pushed his jeans and underwear down together. Ray dropped to his knees like a man about to worship a god. He put your legs over his shoulders, removed your hand and got to work with his tongue. He lapped over you with languid strokes. Your eyes closed and your head fell back onto the bed. A happy sigh left you as his glorious tongue licked up your taste.

“I love doing this,” Ray announced between licks as if you were not awfully aware of how happy he could be from just servicing you with his mouth. He teased you with only the tip of his tongue, before going back to those slow, long licks. You sighed and put a hand through his soft hair, pulling a little so he would put his lips around your most sensitive parts. Just one tug was all it took for Ray to drop the teasing and just get to work with sucking and licking and moving his head like he would die from a lack of your pleasure.

You moaned at the sudden spike of pleasure. Your back naturally arched off the bed and you winced at the pain that stabbed through your ribcage. And just like that, the pleasure stopped and Ray was looking you over with saliva still dripping down his chin. “Are you ok? Are you in pain?”

“Yes and yes… You are so adorable,” you sighed as you shifted. “Sorry, could not help myself from moving. Having you suck on me like that is just very good.” You smiled sheepishly at him. Ray nodded and stroked your cheek with his thumb. He told you to relax as he went down again. He put your legs over his shoulders and you were expecting him to go back to what he was doing before, but instead you felt his tongue circle your hole. “Fuck Ray, please,” you whimpered at the idea of his tongue inside you.

Your boyfriend was nothing if not obedient. He gently pushed his slick tongue inside, fuckign you with it. The pleasure was just as good, just less intense. While it was previously like bullets of pleasure through your body, this was like a continuous stream of pleasure that would slowly send you overflowing. You removed your hand from his head to touch yourself, your fingers gliding easily over yourself with Ray’s saliva still there. You allowed to let all the soft sounds escape you, being free in your expression of pleasure.

Ray was a champ, who did not stop until he heard you gasp and then a hand landed on your abdomen to steady you as his tongue slid back up to replace your hand. An exclamation of pleasure left your lips, the feeling overruling the slight ache of your injuries protesting against the muscles tensing from your orgasm. You were panting as much as you could once the pleasure subsided. Ray rubbed your thighs for a hot minute, until he got up again. Your eyes were unfocused staring at the ceiling until they eventually closed, your body giving in to the exhaustion.

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dogbearinggifts · 4 years ago

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What are your thoughts on tua S2? Did you feel like the characters grew? What did you like? What did you not? I’m interested in your perspective. Your analysis are super thoughtful and interesting!

Aw, thanks, Anon!

Overall, I really enjoyed S2 and thought it was a solid follow-up to S1. I do have my quibbles about it, so I think (for ease of reference and because my thoughts are a little scattered today) I’ll list some of my personal highlights (in no particular order) before getting into what I didn’t like as much.

Big spoilers ahead.

Allison. I thought they handled her storyline especially well. Of all the siblings, I think she had the most difficult obstacles placed in her way (not only is she a Black woman landing in 1961 Dallas, but she’s a Black woman landing in 1961 Dallas who can’t even speak in her own defense for a year) and they sugarcoated exactly none of it. The writers pulled no punches when showing what civil rights protesters went through, which just made their nonviolent response all the more breathtaking. Allison’s fear and anger during those scenes were palpable even as she kept them hidden. But along with that horror, we see the kindness and warmth of the Dallas Black community, the women who take her in simply because she needs their help, and her love for Ray, perhaps heretofore THE most thoughtful husband ever portrayed on screen. I loved him, and I loved him and Allison together. While I understand and respect his choice to stay in 1963, I wish they’d gotten more time together. They both deserved it.

Vanya. We got to see how much the baggage from her past affected her by glimpsing what she might be like if it were taken away. It’s an interesting philosophical question, and it was explored well, in my opinion. She finds it easier to love and be loved, and she stands up for herself more readily—but she also doesn’t hesitate to use powers she can’t quite control and threatens Five without fully realizing how dire her threat is (or how it might dredge up traumatic memories she doesn’t know exist). The moment where Ben finds her curled up, fully convinced she’s a monster, was heartbreaking. I loved watching her find happiness with Sissy, even if that was fleeting (and dear god, Sissy deserved her happy ending with Vanya, dammit, I don’t care if it would fuck up the timeline). Her patience and sweetness with Harlan were just beautiful. And the way she used the confidence she gained during her amnesia to fully come into her own not to exact revenge on her siblings, but to save them, was fucking phenomenal.

The humor. There was a lot more humor this season, and it was awesome. So many iconic scenes—Olga Foroga, Luther babysitting two homicidal Fives, Elliot awkwardly lecturing his guests on the history of Jello, “NEW TIMELINE NEW ME,” “Your vagina needs glasses,” AJ the fish gobbling up the cigarette bubbles, Five getting to say “fuck”….this season was a lot funnier than the previous one, and I think that was one of its strengths.

Klaus’ cult. It was played for laughs, which I both expected and thought was the best way to handle it. He didn’t want to start a new religion with himself at the center; he just wanted to not get thrown out of any more diners, but Destiny’s Children had other ideas. The “I too am a fraud!” scene was hilarious and tickled the question of whether or not a religion founded on false pretenses can still help those within it find meaning.

Luther. Getting him away from his dad, his siblings, and the Academy was exactly what he needed to become the pure of heart and dumb of ass genius we always knew he was, but his first major step in that direction was heartbreaking. We all knew he’d be rejected once he got to the Academy. We all knew Reginald would rip his heart out and stomp on it in his admittedly fashionable shoes. It gets Luther out on his own and forces him to become his own person apart from his dad, but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch. He got the positive character development he needed, but the catalyst was tragic.

Diego. We see, for the first time, exactly how Reginald kept him in line—not with meds or with PTSD-inducing torture, but with words. Even when he knows Diego as little more than a stranger, Reginald is able to rip off his skin and fling it in his face with a single diatribe; and even at 30, with years away from his dad, Diego is left unable to speak, feeling as if all of his accomplishments up to that point were the work of a dumb kid who thought he was smarter and more capable than he actually was.

Luther and Diego sharing a braincell. Luther has bad ideas. Diego has bad ideas. When they put their bad ideas together, they get terrible ideas. I loved watching them work together as a team, rather than being at each others’ throats for most of the season, even if I’m left hoping Olga Foroga had a pleasant and quiet day after that phone call.

Reginald. At first glance, it may look like the writers were trying to make him likable so they could parade him around as your average abusive-parent-with-a-soft-side. But it’s more nuanced than that. Abusive parents (and abusers in general) often fly under the radar because they fool outsiders into thinking they’re good people. They’re active in their communities. They give to charity. They have friends who attest to their virtue, significant others who think they’re the greatest. And that’s what we see with Reginald. We see him as the rest of the world did: an intelligent, eccentric man with a sharp sense of humor who cared deeply about scientific advancement. That’s how he evaded suspicion—because there were stories from years past of lively parties at his mansion, of what a gentleman he was to Grace and of how he did everything he could to save little Pogo. But those stories would all have come from people he considered his equals. When he’s with people he considers his inferiors—aka, the Umbrella kids—he’s openly condescending and demeaning. We get to see how he fooled the world, and it is chilling.

Elliot. He deserved better, and you can ship him with any one of the Hargreeves kids and get the cutest thing ever.

The Swedes. They said so much while speaking very little.

Ben. He got more personality and screen time, and it was glorious. His love of his family and resentment toward Klaus practically leapt off the screen. The way he says “I’ve missed you all…so much” once they’ve all left was one of those right-in-the-feels moments; and watching him get so much of what he’s wanted for years when he possesses Klaus was beautiful.

Now, as for things I took issue with….

Ben. I understand why they ended his arc the way they did. I get that they were probably afraid the Klaus/Ben dynamic would grow stale if they didn’t change it somehow and wanted to give him a larger role in S3. His death(???) was heartbreaking and extremely well-done. But it also wasn’t foreshadowed. We never got any sense of what ghosts in the TUA ‘verse are, so the fact they can be destroyed by a ton of sound-turned-energy or by going too far into someone’s psyche or whatever happened….it’s not that it doesn’t make sense so much as there’s not enough evidence to determine whether or not it makes sense. It feels like the writers just kinda made that up so they’d have a reason to change Ben’s relationship dynamics, but if that’s the case, couldn’t they have done it another way? Couldn’t they have made it so the immense energy or psychic woo-woo or whatever gave him a power-up instead of destroying him? Vanya transferred some of her energy into Harlan and brought him back to life. Couldn’t something similar have happened with Ben? And if it tied him to Vanya as well as to Klaus, great! More fodder for angst and humor! (”Vannyyyyyyyy, stop hogging Ben!” “You got him for 17 years, Klaus, you can part with him for 20 minutes.” “Guys, don’t I get a say in this?”) I’m glad they didn’t write him out of the series entirely, but I still wish they’d kept him and all the character development he’d gotten throughout S2.

Episode 10. It looks like they tried to cram half a season’s worth of developments into 45 minutes. Twenty minutes in, I’d already said “Wait what the fuck” half a dozen times. A lot of those moments were explained later on, and I was able to make enough inferences to fill in any lingering plot holes, but…still. Too much stuff, too little time. E9 was a perfectly satisfying ending to the season. Yes, it leaves the siblings stranded in 1963, but they could’ve tied up those loose ends in the S3 premiere.

Lila. She’s an incredibly fun character, but her arc is kind of a mess. Most of that is due to E10, and I do feel that more time to let her arc breathe would’ve worked wonders, but I’m left feeling like her turn from “Handler is the best mom ever and I lurve Diego too” to “KILL DIEGO AND HIS EVIL FAMILY” to “Handler is a bad mom and Diego is right” happened too quickly.

The Commission. Okay, so, the Handler announces the entire Board has been killed, and she’s stepping in as director even though everyone appears to know she’s been demoted (and demoted pretty severely—she went from having an office bigger than some apartments to being a case management drone). There’s suspicion and lots of it. But then, La Resistance is….ten or so people in a single room? And when she calls the temps agents to her side, thousands of them show up ready and willing to fight and die? I dunno. Just seems like there should’ve been more splintering going on there. Again, I think they needed more time to tie everything up.

Aside from those complaints, I loved the season. I set aside most of a day to binge it, and I do not regret that decision at all.

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jostepherjoestar · 4 years ago

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Ah I was sitting on this idea while waiting for requests to open! I loved your ask that had La Squadra meeting Risottos daughter from the future that got me thinking what if La Squadra had a memey s/o from present time? Would they ask lotta questions about the future and get confused when they speak in vine or tiktok references? 😆

La Squadra with a meme-y s/o from the future

gn reader // sfw

ahh that was such a cute ask and glad it made you think of this idea! thank your for requesting this and omg so so so so sorry it took so long, hope you’ll still enjoy it none the less! 💖✨ (you and your LS bf have a good comprehension of each other’s timelines and are used to traveling back and forth a bit :D)

Risotto

He knows the complications are endless and at times it all seems incomprehensible- having an s/o who can literally time travel; but your sheer knowledge of memes and the way you seem to effortlessly drop them into everyday conversation is astounding to him.

He doesn’t understand them that well, no amount of context or explaining will help. It’s simply a language he does not understand that well. And the memes or slang he kind of does understand, he just doesn’t find that funny.

However, he will never actually find it a bother when you drop a few weird jokes. The way they make you laugh and sometimes even dry-heave from the hilarity makes him love you even more.

In moments like that he’ll dryly let out a few slang words he remembers. You will never forget the time he let out a serious and deep “yeet” when you were already hysterically laughing, his addition might have made you stop breathing for a minute. It still makes you grin when you remember him shaking your shoulders and telling you to “breathe dammit!!”

Overall this man does not really get it or find it that entertaining himself, but he’ll gladly tease you and make you smile with the stuff he picks up. Risotto just can’t stop staring at your beaming grin.

Formaggio

Although he doesn’t truly grasp the layers of certain jokes or memes, Formaggio is your man! He’ll start using jokes and memes he learned from you and is so pleased when he makes you laugh with them.

Formaggio is great at continuing a bit but once he loses interest he just...stops. Which is kind of perfect since your knowledge of vines is a lot bigger than those of tiktoks so those quick six seconds are easy to get the point across.

He’ll still get some stuff wrong but he gets the gist of them. He loves annoying his teammates with his newfound references and they all can’t stand him. The second he opens his mouth with that smug look in his eyes, they all sigh in unison and prepare for the incomprehensible babbling that’s about to commence.

The rest of the gang likes you but when you and Formaggio are hanging out at headquarters together, they tend to keep conversations quick because they know once you two team up, the suffering will never end.

“Babe, wake up! New meme just dropped!”

You two are a menace to deal with but god if it isn’t sickeningly cute and funny when he calls you his baby, his cinnamon apple!

Illuso

Don’t get Illuso wrong, he loves you but dear heavens you are on thin ice with him. He isn’t the most joke-y type, he likes a good chuckle but please do not oversaturate him with references he does not get.

He has little to no interest in the videos you wish to show him and even less interest in remembering the ones he begrudgingly watched.

At this point you’re allowed a couple jokes a day, he doesn’t count or literally prevent you from saying them, but you know each other well enough to see when he’s actually getting annoyed.

To shut you up he’ll try and fluster you! He’ll look into your eyes so intensely as you continue talking about a meme, one eyebrow cocked and one side of his beautiful lips curled up into a smug grin.

He’ll place a single hand on your cheek, his thumb gently swiping across it while the rest of his large hand and fingers rest on your scalp. As he hears you stumble over your words and can feel your cheeks heating up he’ll get in nice and close to your lips. Ghosting his over yours and placing a single kiss that you wish would last longer. That’ll keep you quiet for a bit 😌

He accidentally (re-)invents “that’s cringe” without your help. (he’s referring to you, sorry bestie)

Prosciutto

Why are you saying these weird words AT him? Why must you crease his brows even further?

Prosciutto’s patience is getting tested with you and your innate need for adding incomprehensible colourful commentary to everyday things and situations. He truly doesn’t get it and there is no amount of explaining you can do to change his mind. Even after the memes make even a little sense, he won’t find them funny.

He does love you, so much in fact, that he knows asking you to stop isn’t going to work and it wouldn’t be a fair thing to do. He sees how your smirk feeds into the satisfaction of landing a joke in your present time where most of your friends know what you’re talking about.

However when you come around his part of the space time continuum, playtime is over. Well mostly. He does enjoy being a bit goofy around you, his snarky comments get a sarcastic edge that parallels your need for adding a fun flair to mundane things.

The only time you made him laugh with a meme was when you kept repeating “i can’t believe you’ve done this” over and over while poking his cheeks during a playful mood. After a final poke, Prosciutto’s resolve finally breaking, he couldn’t help but snicker. With one final addition of the line, ever surprised by the wonderful sound he makes when he finally breaks, you stop and stare. Enamoured by your wonderful boyfriend and his gorgeous smile.

Pesci

He’s the most supportive partner out there! Anything that makes you laugh and giggle, like the memes you keep showing him, fills his mushy heart with joy.

Pesci will kind of get them? They all make sense in a way, but some of them just go above his head because of the layers of internet knowledge he does not possess. Although he really loves it when you show him stuff that reminded you of him.

🥺🥺🥺🥺 <-- his face the entire day after you show him cute pictures of animals and said they made you think of him. He’s just so in sickeningly smitten with you.

He’ll try out a couple of internet slang terms and blush really badly when they make you laugh. If Pesci could, he’d play your laughter on loop 24/7. Him baby, ok?

When the whole internet was debating their existence and that of every object because everything is cake, you quizzed Pesci on his cake-recognizing skills. He failed horribly, they all looked way too realistic and he might have had a small existential crisis.

You playfully bit his wrist to show he wasn’t made of cake, planting some kisses along the sensitive spot. He shivered at your tickling pecks, relieved he wasn’t just a tasty confection and even happier that you’d love him regardless.

Melone

Your meme comrade.

The first mistake was showing him what the internet was like in your future timeline. He got so invested in its machinations and the entire culture surrounding it. He studied every single social media outlet. Every niche he could find only fuelling his curiosity.

Pandora’s box has been opened and there is no turning back now. Not only does he get all the memes and vines you show him, he memorized them too. Melone will artfully display his knowledge in daily life when you’re around and show off.

Do you regret showing him? Maybe...but is it hilarious to hear him quote terribly long copy/pastas? Yes. Yes it is.

He will steal your phone so he can feed into his meme needs, saving the most fried up images that barely make any sense, to your gallery. You sorted the ones he saves into a special folder so you wouldn’t have to strain your eyes so much.

It’s all fun and games until he starts referencing stuff during more intimate times. At first they made you laugh but as time went on you had to ask him to stop.

Hearing Melone whisper “eeby deeby” while kissing his way down your neck might not be the mood you’d preferred. (hearing him sigh and say “so, no head?” was pretty hilarious tho)

Ghiaccio

To your surprise, once he understands the memes and gets the references, he becomes quite good at using them as well. Steering clear of the misspelled ones, of course. (one bad gloop might actually kill him)

Ghiaccio is such a big softie once he’s alone with you, letting his guard down and finally calm, not irked or stressed by his surroundings.

He loves it when you show him new weird pictures you saved because they made you think of him. You don’t allow him to have a smartphone no matter how much he wants it (it’ll mess up sensitive time stuff) so when you’re scrolling through your preferred meme gathering app with Ghiaccio alongside you, he’ll point out ones and snicker a “that’s you”.

It makes your heart melt how cute he can be with the stuff he picks out. Once he actually said “you’re baby” and you felt your soul leave your precious body as his cheeks turned redder than plush tomatoes in summertime.

When he’s around the rest of the squad or in a more public setting, the usual stressors return. But with you around to offer quick witty jokes, things tend to become less focused on irritation.

You are 100% sure you’ve heard him yell the famous words “AM I WRONG?!” during a heated argument with Melone. You had to leave the room to prevent worsening things, holding in your laughter and silently dying as you heard him rave on.

#cozy ask #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #jjba headcanons #risotto x reader #formaggio x reader #illuso x reader #prosciutto x reader #pesci x reader #melone x reader #ghiaccio x reader #jjba imagines #la squadra headcanons #jojo's bizarre adventure #sfw #gn reader #thank you for your patience guys #it means a lot

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crackinglamb · 3 years ago

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Hi! I hope it isn’t too much trouble, but I’d like to ask how or why you decided to write Twist? And then also how and why you decided to write Wicked Games a little bit after. Did you wanna explore different relationships with characters when having a different personality in your ‘Modern Girl’ or different goals, because Carly talked Solas down and guided him into a different path, while Imogen seems to want him to go through with his plans with her help and a large dose of “what the heck is the canon timeline?” I love both of the stories, I might reread them again to help with the Modern Girl in Thedas withdrawals.

I ask because I’ve been reading “Modern Girl/Person in Thedas” stories and really wanna try my hand at them, I just feel like I am only writing it for little one shot type interactions between characters, and don’t really know why I’d actually have a “Modern Girl” be sent to Thedas, how and why, and what they would do, If your willing to give insight I’d love to hear it. I just hope I’m not a bother.

Oh no, you're not a bother at all! Thank you so much for this ask!! I love to talk about how I fell down this rabbit hole! I hope you're ready for a dissertation, because this got really long. 💕💕💕

I came to Dragon Age backwards. I didn't know anything about the series other than a lot of people liked it and had very strong opinions about it. Then a fellow writer began to write a Varric/Hawke story and I read it because I wanted to support her return to posting.

And I fell in love with a world I'd never seen.

I realized that, due to its age, I actually did know more about the games than I thought I did. I knew the ending already, and who this bald dude was that had the fandom so divided. A classic villain, right? Wrong. Some people think he's just terrible and some people defend him to the death. Some people think he's terrible but don't let that stop them from defending him to the death. So what was the real deal?

I did some research (because at that point I was writing my own Varric/Hawke fic and I'll still die on that ship hill. Anyways...moving on). I discovered that everything I thought I knew about Solas was skewed by fandom interpretation. Which is valid. I mean, all our opinions end up that way when it comes to fandom, right? All interpretation is subjective. But the fact remains that Solas interprets the world around him through the eyes of the Inquisitor and how they treat him. And that is player based. Low approval proves his opinion that this is a world not fit to live it. High approval shows him that his decision is going to destroy something beautiful, but he still feels he needs to do it.

I got to thinking about what it would take to stop him. Through the course of watching his romance, reading a lot of meta and lore posts and listening to his companion banter, I had a headcannon emerge: Solas could only be stopped by someone who knew what he was doing from the start.

But that's not gonna happen in canon. He already allegedly killed the only person who knew. (Seriously, #saveFelassan) So who else would make him rethink it?

The answer that came to me was a person he needed, so he couldn't risk eliminating them. The Inquisitor who bears his mark. I then went a step further, and decided that someone who knew all his secrets and plans, and who could possibly help him shift them, would have to be from our world. Enter the Modern Girl in Thedas, because I love a good romance, and I wanted a happy ending to this otherwise tragic love story.

And Carly was born. A modern gamer girl, sucked through to a fictional world because the universe is vast and unknowable (and certain wisps of certain Evanuris like to nudge). I'd read a bunch of fic by the time I started writing Twist, including some self-insert types. None of them told him flat out from the beginning. So I determined that she would. She'd tell him what she knew and try to persuade him that his plans were awful and that if he wanted to claim he wasn't a monster, then he'd have to find another way.

I knew from the start that I wanted her to save the orb, because losing that is what tips the scales for Solas. Losing that means he has to find power from somewhere else and sets him on his path of death. Saving the orb meant his plans, while derailed, weren't ruined. Yes, I know in Trespasser he'll tell the Inquisitor that the world would have burned in raw chaos while he rewrote it, but considering the nature of magic and reality on Thedas, I think that's more due to human reaction than any actual destruction simply based on the lifting of the Veil. Demons are real and represent emotion. Humans look down on elves and do everything they possibly can to oppress them. Like the colonizers they are. Of course they'd react to an elven demigod rewriting the world to give his people back their strength poorly.

And then covid hit. Twist rapidly became a beacon of fluffy stability to my readers. It was an escape from the literal dumpster fire that my country was, so I was highly motivated to keep writing it. To keep it light and happy and epic in a way that felt satisfying to everyone. So that's what I did.

But...

I still hadn't played Inquisition when I started (and I still need to play the other two). I was missing so much of the nuance of the world. In the end, Twist wasn't the story I really wanted to tell. I mean, I'm proud of it, and I love it. I am deeply humbled and gratified to know how many people look at Carly with love and admiration. I love hearing how many times a reader has opened it up and binged it. That kind of feedback is the lifeblood of a writer, as I always say.

Wicked Game is the story I wanted to write. A little grittier, a little more plausible in keeping with the lore. Having Imogen be human gave her the power to call out other humans on their bigotry. And to show Solas that he's not the only one who can see how damaged the world is and want to fix it. Having her be a scientist gives me a chance to explore how magic works, and what the Veil really is after a year of immersing myself in this world. Yeeting canon so thoroughly came from thinking about the major plot points and what could be changed about them from the POV of a character who knows how this is all 'supposed' to happen...and the resultant fallout from her decisions.

Imogen can see the forest for the trees. Her outsider perspective gives her all sorts of insights on her companions and the world at large. The fact that she falls ass over teakettle for the Dread Wolf against her own better judgment is just a good trope. Having him do the same is my clapback against his racially locked romance. (Here's where I'm gonna throw out my own extra kudos to writers who also portray Solas as bisexual, because dammit, he should be. Immortal beings would not bend to any heteronormative conventions.)

Carly and Imogen have rather similar motivations behind them: they want to save the world and not lose him. They often go about it in similar ways too. I guess the biggest difference between them is that now I know what I'm doing and I have more confidence in my storytelling ability. Neither of them is a self-insert. Plenty of people do that and that's totally valid. I'm just not really a fan of it myself. These two characters are no different to me than any other OC starting out at the beginning of the game. They just have slightly more backstory than the average Inquisitor.

Now, in regards to you writing your own and feeling like all you have are oneshot ideas. Go for it. Doesn't matter if they're oneshots. A story doesn't have to be hundreds of thousands of words to be awesome or complete. Write what YOU want to read. The best reason to make a character be a certain way, like being MCIT, is because you want them to be. No other justification is necessary. The only rules in storytelling are grammar ones, and even those are iffy at best. The only courtesy if you decide to go ahead and share it is don't plagiarize and tag it properly. That's it. The sky's the limit and up for grabs. Go forth and be bold.

#ask #Lamb writes #Lamb rambles #Lamb...gives advice?#👀#solas #modern characters in thedas #on writing #long post

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energyanon · 3 years ago

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ITS TIME FOR:

THE SEBASTIAN STAN MEGAMIX:

Don’t you dare go through the rest of the reading without getting yourself hyped with the link first cause I spent OVER TWO HOURS ON THIS READING AND YOU WILL DO WHAT I ASK DAMMIT.

* https://youtu.be/nendMLrpI-s*

ALSO: no one kill me, there is a very unpopular opinion that unfolded. I just feel the energy, don’t avada kadavra the messenger. It’s not my fault if it doesn’t match your ideal, man.

I’ve put Seb down first - just on his own.

I know I’ve said he seems like a sad bitch, and this might be because it was his birthday like.. what yesterday? And maybe I’m in his current energy (I’ll check on a different timeline) but…

Fans are gonna say it’s fake - he’s happy.

He’s really content. He’s swaying a bit which is why I feel like there’s like a tiny bit of drunk-ness hence why I feel like I’m in his CURRENT energy, but there’s 0 fault. He is so peaceful and happy and content. There’s nothing else to it.

So I closed that off, switched him over to “2021 energy” just to see how he’s been going for the most part rather than right now. And there was an immediate change, specifically to the middle of my head, a sort of pressure there. Heavy eyes, not as happy and starting to get hot. Specifically in shoulders and arms and hands. Hands is usually anxiety, shoulders and arms… I don’t usually get. The happiness is there but the smiles are fleeting. Otherwise it’s not sad it’s just… floating through, getting by. Pressure in my head is getting worse though and now my back is itchy. With energy letting me know that, I can only assume there needs to be a placement of something behind him.

Ok, placement behind him whatever it is, is DRAGGING him down. Mood changed entirely. And he’s being pulled BACK to this thing almost like he wants to fall into it. He’s really focused on in front of him, not quite scared, but eyes wide. Panicked. He does NOT want to look behind him.

The feeling now is.. almost a depression; tired. And he’s looking on the ground now. That almost always means that he’s looking at someone who has died.

Guys? Any death around him recently??

YOOO OK THATS FUCKED AS SOON AS I WROTE THAT THERE WAS SOMETHING IN MY ROOM THAT MOVED ITSELF WITH A GIANT CLANK 👀 I AM NOT DOING A SEANCE TONIGHT FOLKS I AM OUTTIE.

CLOSING THAT ONE OFF REAL FUCKING FAST JOLY SHIT. Gimme a sec to get whatever the fuck that is outta here.

Ok no that’s a lie. Why does it feel like Grandparent Stan.

Guys, has one of the grandparent Stan’s died? It’s not a bad energy, but to him it feels like depression. I’m taking a moment just to speak to them cause they clearly wanted my attention. I tried to end it there cause I don’t fuck with spirits, but as soon as I tried to close my apps it said “no” really sweetly, so…

Ok so I just spent about half an hour doing a mini constellation for them. When it comes to grief and also the ~spirit~ letting itself be known I knew they were gonna stay around until I helped. It was pretty personal, but I got them through it. Felt a lot like a grandma from one of the sides I’m not sure who. Gave me some very cute images of her and little Seb playing in a park and cooking 🥺 Seb cried alot, but was also VERY happy to see her. They said their bits, he knows she’s a support. She’s agreed to be there for the rest of the reading however he needs her. They’re currently holding hands in letting him keep her there.

Let’s move on.

Didnt think I would cry in this one but here I am.

Ok I’ve got him in his previous position, Grandma?Stan is behind him, we’re moving on.

He feels A lot better now that the grief has been sorted through. Feels fresh.

Career/fans came up in that mini constellation so I will put that down next.

The only thing he brought up about the fans was he feels like they’re ripping him apart. He feels like everyone wants a piece of him and he can’t give them that.

I put career down. Career is in front of him facing him to his left. The fans, surprise surprise, wanted to be right on top of him. And he is CHOKING with that being the case. Throat clamping up, airways are BLOCKED. I’m moving them off.

Even then, the fans are too close, Seb has taken two steps back.

Even then they’re still too close. He’s moved to behind career, so career is blocking the view of him and the fans.

Here in this position he’s standing like a statue, he feels like he’s successfully hidden and it’s here he’s gonna stay.

Moving to career:

Career is super confused at where he went and also feels like fans are a bit close. also feels like it is better than the fans. Kind of giving them a look of disgust. Career seems to understand that the fans are gonna be stuck close to them but they think of them a bit like they’re looking at something a bit dirty.. like career doesn’t want to get their hands on them. Career wants to turn to Seb.

Career is bigger than Seb by quite a bit. Not as overbearing as Chris’s career was though, and seems to be on good terms with him. It doesn’t have any feelings of animosity towards Seb, it’s just looking at him like “you good?” And then looking back at the fans and being like “cause of THEM? Really? Lol ok”

But career feels fine to block him off from fans, that’s ok it doesn’t mind. Career doesn’t want Seb to take his eyes off it though. Eyes on career. Keep your eyes on career.

Don’t look anywhere else. Eyes on career.

Back to Seb:

Seb agrees, eyes on career. He’s very obedient to that.

There’s nothing else for me to do with these two so I went to see if he wanted to look past career at fans. He didn’t. Eyes on career.

(What have you guys done to him, i followed him back in CA:WS and he wasn’t like this at ALL. Damn guys.)

I went back to fans and they just kept making the same movement, they wanted to be on top of him. Close wasn’t close enough. I’m not moving them back there though cause then it will just go in circles and we want MOVEMENT.

I’m leaving fans there.

I am adding GF

Ale? Is that what people call her?

Ale has placed herself behind career. She is currently fully in the fans view, but she’s facing career and seb, career has back to her, seb is facing her way.

She seems to know that career is most important and she’s ok with that. She’s kind of expectantly trying to get his attention though. Like the feeling of waiting for someone to get off work and waiting for them at the door. She’s just waiting. She looks at fans like they’re beneath her though. Doesn’t like them. Not dislike, but they’re beneath her, she doesn’t need to interact.

No other movement from her besides the fact that she wants seb to move over to her so he can be by her side.

I went to the fans and they’re just all BORING their eyes into her. No need to even look at seb it’s ALE. No movement from them otherwise.

Moving back to seb:

Eyes on career. Eyes on career, except ale is more interesting now and he wants to shuffle over her way, but also career? But also ale.

He doesn’t want to go the obvious way, he kind of wants to sneak past career.

I’m gonna sneak him past career.

He’s doing it sheepishly and very slowly. Like a little boy shuffle.

Ok seb is now in front of ale, career is behind him, backs faced to each other.

Ale is taller to him. (Usually means he thinks highly of her OR that she’s in a more powerful position in the relationship but it doesn’t feel like that he’s acting like a simp)

So weird this is such simp behaviour, I moved ale back a little cause they were practically on top of each other but he was like “noooooo” and moved himself closer again.

Like dude you’re practically breathing in her organs. Chill.

It’s weird though Hes not feeling like He wants to cuddle her or be anything other than just close to her. He seems to be completely mesmerised by her. Short breaths though, he’s not relaxed. But he cannot take his eyes off her.

Moving to Ale:

She doesn’t really take her eyes off him either but she’s much more easily distracted.

She’s very fond of him though. She feels very content. She likes him, she’s happy there.

No more movement from either of them so let’s ask questions.

I asked both parties if they loved each other. Ale said yes, seb said I don’t know.

It’s also not “I don’t know” in a 😬 way it’s.. a curious and nice “I don’t know” kind of like.. “I’ve never felt like THIS before.. is THIS love?”

He does feel a bit blocked though, like he’s not admitting to himself 100% but it’s so bizzare his feelings and his words aren’t matching up cause I feel so fond of this woman so why is he saying I DONT KNOW?!

Ok I see the problem now. I just said one word:

Marriage? Ale said “yes please :)”

And sebs immediate reaction was 😳 😬

Ya boy. Has commitment issues. He’s making sense now. I swear to god if he has Gemini in his chart.. I swear.

Q: ale, why did you get with seb?

He seemed nice 😊 (also an image of a yacht on the water popped up?)

Q: do you have pure intentions towards him

She… didn’t know how to answer that, it was a very hesitant yes.

Q: are you with him for the money?

The answer was a pretty clear yes but she tried to cover her tracks with “it’s nice 😊”

Q: If Sebastian lost everything would you still love him?

No hesitation it was still yes.

So what I’m getting here is she does like the money, she does like him, money is a main factor but… she genuinely likes him I don’t know what to tell you guys.

Q: seb do you like ale?

Yes

Q: why did you start dating her?

She’s hot! (He laughed at that) and then said she’s funny, she’s cute, she’s sweet… great body

Q: do you think you’ll spend your life with her?

Same reaction as the marriage question it was a very hesitant “I’m not sureeeeee….”

The energy is drifting a bit now so I’m ending it here:

Q: is there anything else you want to say.

I wish they would leave her alone

Q: do you want them to leave you alone?

No, I can handle it. They can do what they want, I just want them to leave her alone.

That’s it!

That’s all I got.

I didn’t get any bad vibes from Ale at all.

She seems to like him. I don’t know why everyone is so mad?

Seb also seems to like her. I’d be surprised if he doesn’t have Gemini in the big three or Venus, cause that’s exactly like me, ive got Leo Venus, cancer sun that makes me all lovey physically but in my gemini moon and merc make my head like MMmmmMmmMmM BUT DO I ACTUALLY LIKE THEM THOUGH? Haha.

Someone look up his chart for me pls.

Edit: I did just realise I didn’t even ask if it was PR. Sorry, my bad. Assess the above how you will.

That also didn’t go how I thought it would at all. I know you guys thought he was super sad and making all the wrong decisions, but he really only seemed dragged down from something else entirely. That being said I didn’t add the agency you guys warned me about but it also didn’t pop up at all. Maybe in the next one. I did make a couple of mistakes here in terms of probably not asking the right things that will make the entire situation clearer. Sorry guys when I’m in it I’m only thinking of what pops up and going where the energy leads me. 😶

Peace ✌🏼

#ss #reading

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marukrawler · 3 years ago

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bakugan battle brawlers episode 39 liveblogging part 1

- hoo boi i can’t imagine what’s going to happen in this episode

- besides from. . .a very confused alice

- oh boy 😭

- NICE OF THIS DUDE TO FINALLY SHOW UP

- im sure he’s just here to clarify things bc no one here knows what tf is going on

- not joe appearing from the shadows where he was watching everything

- ok yeah so if the timeline says that alice and micheal became masquerade and hal g when dan and drago first met, then that means runo likely was the first person to lose bakugan to masquerade (though im sure he could’ve targeted ppl in russia first??)

- love how hal g keeps announcing his name unprompted lmaoo

- alice conveniently remembers everything now, goodie

- but where does the mask go. . .when masquerade takes it off. . .does she not see it????

- wait, does alice get hit with like, impulses that she can’t control??? and she’s pulling out the mask too, is she creating the mask out of nothing or is it a physical item???? there’s no way she couldn’t be aware that she was carrying it if it’s the latter??????

- yeah they showed alice pulling out the mask while she was in bed w her pjs and i think runo helped her into those (or maybe not?? idk) so i feel like she can summon the mask rather than carry it with her

- the abrupt way in which alice went w her grandfather and then pulled away once she saw his green hand lol

- yeah i figured that even if the brawlers forgave her, alice wouldn’t be able to forgive herself. so im guessing that she’s gonna go on a journey of self discovery now bc she doesn’t know herself anymore

- this might be the ugliest julie i’ve ever seen

- do u ever stare at the 3d pigeons and wonder where your friend went

- also im glad we get to focus on how runo feels about this!! which is apparently ‘life isn’t the same since alice left’

- isn’t it crazy that everything from ep 14-39 happened over summer break

- diverging somewhat here but look at julie’s mom and sister, they both have wavy, lavender hair and julie’s is straight and grey/white. brings a little credibility to my idea of julie changing her appearance so she’s not mistaken for daisy uwu

- love how close to reality this is, the world is in peril and school is still on

- holy shit is wyvern just going around fixing the world with her positive core energy?? amazing

- mom also decided that w the world about to end, dad oughta be let in the know about why its happening lol

- parents zoom meeting!!

- love how shinjiro’s still not here, gET IN THERE AND SUPPORT MIYOKO DAMMIT

- wAIT HOLD UP joe’s mom is. a hottie

- im sorry that i’ve been sleeping on ur good looks ms. osamu

- why are all these moms so beautiful, im

- IM DYING SCOOB

- that’s such a jojo face im crying

- now we know where julie got those exaggerated faces from

#bakugan #aisha watches bakugan battle brawlers #liveblogging #episode 39

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the-silentium · 4 years ago

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Lost Future Pt. 3

Masterlist

Pairing: soulmate!Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Soulmate AU where the soulmates share their wounds. || Along with your brother, you are transported into the 1960's with a bunch of kids you don't know. Turns out they are trying to stop the 2019 apocalypse and you are playing a key part of it.

Words: 6600 words

Warnings: Violence, swears, angst, fluff, mention of death, mention of illness, blood.

A/N: I finally finished it! I hope you like this last part of our two little soulmates story! Don’t forget to leave your reactions in the comments!

Every Hargreeves and Beauchamps were gathered around the bunker’s table, reviewing the last details of the plan that would preserve humanity after April 1st, 2019 came around. Everything was perfect, you were at your best, Vanya was ready for her part to come, Five had successfully located a team of operations agents and had abducted one of the duo, teleporting him to the woods to beat the shit out of him and remove its tracker. After his messy handy work, he teleported the Commission assassin to the bunker, where you would take possession of the man and play his role.

“See ya soon.” You smiled confidently at your friends and brother. If you were unsure of your capacity to bring this mission to success, now you were pumped and ready to kick asses. You approached your target but were intercepted on your way by lips colliding with yours. The shock froze you on the spot, ironic considering that your body temperature was rising at an incredible speed. To your disappointment, you didn’t have the time to recover and reciprocate the affection that said lips parted from yours.

“Be careful.” You admired how his exterior was a flawless portrait of calm despite how agitated you could see his soul. Five’s soul was a dark charcoal grey traveled by black thin and irregular stripes, no doubt because of his time as an assassin. Its jagged edges added to the menacing picture that was your soulmate's soul, but despite it being one of the darkest you've ever seen, you never feared it.

During your first training on Five, you were intrigued by the strange soul. In your life, you've never seen one react as Five's did. When you approached, its sharp edges were clearly trying to intimidate you and keep you away at all costs. It all changed when you tenderly touched the dark flame, its form creeping around your fingers, tugging you closer. Everywhere your own soul would touch his, the nearby dark strings regressed until disappearing completely and creating little white spots here and there. You could feel the change into Five's body, the relaxation, the lightness and the feeling of belonging.

Usually, you would keep the soul to soul contact to a minimum, the intimacy of the thing being too intrusive, but with Five, his need mixed with your desire made your hands wander. You stroked his soul like you would his cheek, enveloped your arms around the defenseless flame who crashed against your form and kissed the remaining dark spots away. Five's mind has never been as peaceful as it was in this moment, the feeling of being home was so warming and appeasing that he followed you like a moth followed a light whenever you tried to separate yourself from him.

“Will you still love me at the end of all this?” His insecurities were out only for you to see.

“Forever. I promise.” You didn’t know what he thought would scare you away, you just knew that nothing could change your feelings for him.

It was a good thing that the first sessions were one on one. It allowed you to pass time with him without worrying about the others snooping around and mocking how their brother became tender.

"Always." You smiled and turned to your target. Andrew positioned himself right behind you, ready to catch your falling body while you concentrated on the agent's soul.

You pushed the light grey flame to the back of… Zachary's body and took control. With your new training, the usual nausea was now a slight dizziness and you were up and walking in seconds. Zachary's efforts to regain control of his body were totally vain. The Hargreeves had an advantage while fighting your soul: they knew what you were. The agent had no clue, making it infinitely easier to block his attempt to take control.

The pain radiating from Five's beating was omnipresent. You were sure that some ribs were broken along with other major injuries. Oh and the abdominal pain you felt? Clearly not normal. Every detail of the mission was thought through, meaning that if you returned to Zachary's partner unarmed, there would be suspicions so you had to play the game and act as hurt. The easiest play of your life, really. The pain was pretty real so that wouldn't be a big deal. You weren’t even sure you could walk.

Five’s face showed his concern when he saw you struggle to sit up. His hand reached out to help you, only to be batted away by your own.

"It’s fine. I can do it." You saw his hands closing into fists at your pained grunts.

You lost your footing when you got off the table and fell to the ground in a yelp.

"I’m fine." You tried to get up again but the white pain in your abdomen was too much.

"No you’re not. Stop trying to get up." Your soulmate positioned himself behind you. "Can you still do it?" You knew he was concerned about your well being, but pain had a tendency to make you impatient.

"Yes and the sooner we start the sooner it ends. So let’s go." Your fogged mind almost didn’t register Five’s surprise at your outburst. "Sorry."

"No you’re right." He shook his head before grabbing a bloody pocket knife from his shorts. "Ready?" You answered with a nod, the knife went to your throat and you both teleported away, in the motel room Diego and Andrew found out to be rented by the Commissioners. Zachary's partner… Brendan lifted his gun as soon as he noticed the newcomers.

"Tell the Handler that my patience is getting thin." A groan fell from your mouth as Five tugged on your hair and exposed your throat. "And make sure to tell her that the next time I see one of her little puppets, she won't see me coming." The tension keeping your head up disappeared in a blue light, causing you to tumble to fall forward in a groan. Brendan was quick to kneel next to you to assess your wounds.

"Shit! He got you freakin' good that asshole."

"Damn midget was quick." You grunted in response, hands gripping your abdomen.

"The hell did he do to you?" Brendan helped you get on a bed and you recited the story Five gave you. "Dammit! We have to report that to the Handler." Brendan’s nervous back and forth walking was intriguing.

Curious about why reporting to the woman seemed so troublesome, you turned back to Zachary's soul and probed his memory. Five had warned you that the woman was special, but you didn't think it was that bad. The woman was mad, that was a fact. But when it came to your soulmate? Holy shit. She was a psychopath devil wearing Prada.

"You do it. I have to go to the infirmary." Gripping your ribs, you didn’t even have to force your sentence to sound out of breath. From what you've gathered on Brendan, he wasn't the bravest one, meaning that he would insist for you to come with him to face the wolf that is the Handler.

"You were the one kidnapped. You tell the story." Bingo.

Breathing in sharply, you gestured for the blonde to come over. He grabbed the briefcase sitting on his bed to fix the proper date and location before walking over to your bloody form. He assured that your grip on him was secured and pressed the buttons to activate the teleportation. As it was your first briefcase travel, you weren’t prepared for the twist your stomach graciously executed, forcing Zachary’s last meal to hurry up your esophagus and fall on the floor in a brownish puddle.

Brendan jumped away fairly quickly, scrunching up his nose in disgust. "Could’ve warned me man."

You barely had time to shoot him an annoyed glance that medical staff took you away to treat your injuries and test you in case of a concussion, letting you time to analyze your surroundings between each test and identify potential exits if it ever came to that. From time to time you had to turn to Zachary, who was still clueless of what was happening to him, shown by his incessant attempts to order his body to move, and push him farther. His pleas for someone to help him were loud and clear, disrupting your attempts to concentrate and answer the nurses questions.

The nurses left you alone in your private room now that every wound on your new male body was disinfected and patched to their liking. You refused every painkiller that was offered to you in fear of losing control over Zachary’s body and also to keep your mind focussed on the task at hand. One of the doctors came back with what you assumed was your file, explaining how lucky you were to be alive blablabla. You weren’t lucky. You just had the best assassin of the whole timeline as soulmate and he happened to know where to strike to cause maximum damage without killing its prey.

"The nurses will prep you for your surgery. Your spleen has been damaged and is now bleeding into your abdomen."

You raised your hand to interrupt him. "No, I have to talk to the Handler first. It’s urgent." Your heartbeat accelerated as your nervosity increased. The surgery would eat up too much of your precious time and who knew what would happen of you when under anesthesia.

"Sir. We have to bring you into surgery as soon as-"

"I said no! If you want me to have this surgery, you’ll have to get the Handler here first!" You cut him off.

"We don’t have ti-" The poor doctor was cut off about, but by a feminine cough this time. His fear clearly showed on his face at the vision of the extravagant lady in the doorframe.

"Good thing that I’m already here then. I’m sure we can have a little five minutes. Go get yourself a coffee." Her tone seemed sweet despite her hard commanding eyes, their intensity raising the hairs on your arms.

The argument was clearly over. The doctor hurried out of the room, allowing the blonde woman to take her time to talk to you. As you took in her sweet exterior, her radiant smile and her interesting clothes, you were thankful for your ability to see everyone's true self, because if you had crossed her path without being able to see her jet black soul, you feared that you would have trusted her without a second thought.

"I see Number Five hasn't lost his touch." She gestured vaguely at your numerous injuries with her perfectly manicured hand, which you couldn't help but notice, the vibrant red looking like blood on the top of her fingers. "But I guess he did lose some efficiency in his adorable little shorts, you are still breathing after all."

"He charged me to deliver a message to you ma'am." A gurgling sound punctuated your words, causing you to cough as soon as you finished your sentence.

"You will have to do it quickly darling, we don't want you to run out of time before you tell me." She moved closer to hear your words better. Her lack of empathy hit you right in the gut, you, no, Zachary was dying and she couldn't find it in herself to at least fake some kindness.

"Karma is a bitch." You chuckled at her confusion before quickly leaving Zachary's body behind and entering hers. The slight vertigo that you were now used to wasn’t as bad as when you trained with the Hargreeves. Despite what you thought, she hasn’t seen you coming and offered no resistance. You let yourself the time to adjust while she still hasn’t detected you yet, her confusion overwhelming your mind and senses. Soon though, she started to feel wrong and tried to walk away from the weak form of the injured agent. Panic flooded through her mind when she realized that her body wouldn’t do as asked. What is happening?

"Oh. You just got hijacked.” You snickered. Make sure that the Handler was in the building, check! You walked out of the room just as the doctor came back to take the dying man to surgery. Not knowing that this agency was full of murderers, you would have felt bad for what was coming, but you knew.

You ventured into endless corridors, your destination in mind. You had to make it there without having to search her mind for the directions if possible. You tried to block out her murderous thoughts, her rage sounding like thunder under your skull gave you a really bad headache. Fortunately for you, you had had your fair share of headaches in your life meaning that you had a good tolerance for them.

Unfortunately for you was that you couldn’t make your way out of these damns corridors and find the briefcase room. Five had formally forbidden you to peek into her mind, saying that her mind was too dangerous to adventure yourself into. You hated to admit that he was right.

Five's soul was definitely nothing compared to the one right in front of you. The craziness that was boiling into its depth was licking at yours in an attempt to corrupt you or scare you away, you weren't sure which.

“Ma’am? Are you alright?” You almost didn’t register the concerned voice into all the chaos of your head. A sweet-looking woman was

“Y-Yes.” You pinched your nose at the waver in your voice. “I’m just feeling out of it today.” Andrew would have been proud of your acting talent, he always told you that you were terrible. “Could you please show me the way to the briefcase room?”

Her brown eyes widened as if you had insulted her whole family, stressing you out. What did you say wrong? I never say please, you little shit. You mentally facepalmed at that.

“Em. Sure, ma’am. This way.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stay silent when the Handler didn’t stop screaming in your head. You focussed on placing one foot in front of the other without face-planting in your high-heels while massaging your temple with your fingers. The headache was slowly morphing into a migraine, it wasn’t good.

As soon as you saw the desired room, you made your way in it, caught the first one, and quickly inserted the right time coordinates.

The numbness creeping slowly into your mind scared you to no end. Tiny strings of her soul tried to reach yours, sometimes succeeding and making your heart rate skyrocket. Every barrier you tried to put between you, she would destroy them or find a way to pass through the cracks. At first, she tried to take control again but when she realized that it wouldn’t work, she then passed to stab your mind with her own. Images of dead bodies would then flash before your eyes at her fortunate stabs, some bloodier than others, some had severed limbs, others were disfigured. It disgusted you how these people were butchered like they were animals. Then why are you helping their killer? You froze in place, the severity of her words hitting you like a train.

It… couldn’t be. You knew he was a killer, Five never lied about doing atrocities in the past, but hearing it and seeing it were two different things.

“You forced him to do it…” As much as you wanted to believe your own words, you knew that it couldn’t erase the fact that he did it nonetheless.

“Y/N! Are you alright?” Your body was suddenly shaked back and forth, making you blink a couple of times to regain your senses. You were back at the bunker, in Andrew's arms, the Hargreeves concerned gazes fixed on you. As much as it hurt to do so, you couldn't find it in yourself to meet Five's gaze, the memories of lifeless corpses lingering at the back of your mind.

"I'm okay." Your voice was small, tired, just like how you felt.

"You don't look okay." You shrugged it off, entering your previous location's coordinates as the next destination in the briefcase and made your way toward Vanya, holding your hand out to her. You fled your problems as soon as you could.

Helping Vanya to stay on her wobbly feet was more difficult than you thought with the deadly high-heels you were wearing. You ditched them after having once again entered the bunker as your terminus.

A metallic sound caught your attention, the handcuffs in Vanya's hand shone under the neon light of the empty office. With a single nod, Vanya caught your wrist in one of the loops and closed the other around one of the many metal bars blocking the window. Everything was in place. Now, the last thing for you to do was get into Vanya's body and stay on the backseat while she used her ability to destroy the complex.

You visualized the bright white soul that was Vanya's and made a move to get out of the Handler's body when a sharp stab into your essence pulled you back into it. I wonder how Five will take that his soulmate doesn't make it back.

Cold sweat covers your body instantly, panic surging through your every nerves. Her soul found an opening into your fragilized wall and took advantage of it. Black threads emerging from her soul had wrapped themselves around yours, keeping you prisoner of her physical form. You let your guard down and it would now cost you your life.

"Y/N, everything alright?"

You slowly shook your head, tears forming into your eyes. You choked on your air, the Handler fighting you for control. The hours spent into Zachary's body, the pain you had to endure, all the time travelling, the body jumping added to the images of your soulmate's victims rendered you tired, allowing the mad woman to push you back to second.

"Five should have known better than to send a little" Her soul gripped yours as tightly as it could, her wrath flowing around in a psychotic manner making you almost pass out. "weakling to control me."

"Leave her alone." You haven't heard Vanya's voice much during the time you passed with her family under the yellow house. She was always shy, keeping her thoughts to herself. It surprised you that she managed to express herself in such a stern manner, an excited shudder ran through you. Maybe you had a chance.

"If you uncuff me." The grip on you tightened at Vanya's hesitation. "Or I'll crush her."

Oh. Bad idea. Once brown eyes suddenly became as white as snow, her soul and body glowing in the dimly lit room. The Handler's grip on you slipped when a blue stream hit her square in the chest, her body falling to the ground with her hand still tied to the bars.

Seeing an opening, you swiftly threw yourself out, seeking refuge into Vanya's mind. The silence that reigned there was welcome, you let yourself fall limply somewhere into the depth of Vanya's form, totally drained from the last interference. She must have felt your forced entry because the next thing you knew, her soul was shining like a thousand suns followed by the sound of destruction.

Vanya's power wave exploded the walls and ceiling surrounding you along with the entirety of the Commission's complex. You blacked out when Vanya made her way into the air, a bubble protecting her from the debris with the briefcase in hand.

…………………………….

11 days. The 11 best days of your life. Even though you passed them fighting to prevent the apocalypse, you would never change them for anything. You had the opportunity to meet your soulmate, fall in love with him and get to know him along with his family.

Back in your very own body, you were delighted when you learned that the apocalypse wouldn't happen in 2019 now that the Commission's base was reduced to ashes. The happiness you felt from Five's kisses and the loud cheers resonating around you was short lived, Andrew's sad gaze met yours, causing your eyes to tear up. He forced himself to smile, but you saw right through his facade. This same smile was forcing his handsome features back then and it hurt just the same to see him trying to be positive for your sake when he was himself drowning in his sorrow.

You leaved a confused Five behind and rushed into your brother's arms, your hands closing on his shirt in tight fists. His arms wrapped around your form just as tightly as yours were around his, the thought of leaving him behind again filling you with dread.

"I love you so much." The sob breaking your brother's whisper torned your heart apart.

"What's going on?" Unbeknownst to you, the room had stopped celebrating, instead focussing their attention on the odd scene happening before them. Allison was the first to ask what everyone was secretly thinking.

You took a deep breath, mentaly preparing yourself for Five's reaction at your next words. Releasing the fabric, you separated yourself from Andrew's shirt and joined your hands in front of you in an attempt to stop them from shaking. As soon as your soulmate noticed them, he space-jumped next to you in hope of giving you comfort, instead you cower back into Andrew's chest, but this time facing the rest of the group. You avoided his hurt gaze by watching your fingers.

"I-" The lump closing your throat made it difficult to speak your mind. A reassuring hand fell on your shoulder hoping to give you the strength needed. "I won't be there when you go back to 2019."

"It's fine, I can space-jump to Canada without a problem." Five frowned, concerned about why you being in another country was an issue.

"That's not what I mean." You shook your head and closed your eyes tightly in hope to keep the tears at bay. "What I mean is, when you go back in 2019 I won't be there 'cause I'll be dead. I died in 2009 of a brain tumor."

There, finally it was out! Minus the sharp breaths here and there, the room was utterly silenced. That is until Five kicked the nearby coffee table. The sudden sound made you jump and open your eyes to meet the image of your angry soulmate. You almost regretted telling him, but you knew that he deserved to know.

"That's impossible. You wouldn't be here if you were. Ben isn't." You had to fight yourself to not avoid his angry gaze. He was in denial and you would help him through it. You had accepted your death long ago, your eternal slumber along with your last moments still engraved into your memory.

You could feel yourself floating in comfortable darkness. Your senses were numb, no sounds bouncing around, nothing to taste, nothing to see, nothing to touch, nothing to smell. You couldn’t tell why, but being this senseless made you panic slightly. How long had you been there? An hour? A day? A year? You had no memories of how you ended in this isolated place. However, something in you, hidden deep inside, said that this was better. This was safe. The appeasing thought cleared your mind and allowed your muscles to slowly loosen.

A flash of color appears in front of you. No. Not in front of you. In your mind. Light green orbs watched you closely. Their magnificent color was tainted by tears. Why is he crying? Light brown strands fall in front of his eyes, hiding his tears from your view. His hair was chaotic like he had passed countless times combing his hand through his strands. A chuckle rose in your throat, aiming to be set free and be heard. Only silence resonated in your ears.

His form is now shaking slightly. His untamed locks moved in quick succession and sobs reached you. His distress felt like a punch to the gut, stealing all of your air and squeezing your heart. You desperately wanted to reassure him, but at this point in time, all you could manage to do was stay still and wait for your fast-approaching end. Right, I was- You never got to relieve him of his pain, forming the second biggest regret of your life. You felt a pressure on your right hand, warmth spreading from the contact.

“You’ll get better soon Panda. I promise,” His sobs stopped and a tear-stained face forced a smile at you. Despite seeing the most hurtful smile on his lips, you believed him. The pain already started to fade away. “You’ll be alright.”

The day I died. Your brother was right, you were alright. You weren’t suffering anymore. No more dizziness, no more vomiting, no more seizures and no more explosive migraines. You were free. Only… Your biggest regret would continuously haunt you. I never got to meet him.

In the background, you could faintly hear the flatline of the EKG along with the last cry of your precious brother and parents calling your name.

"I got diagnosed with a brain tumor in Spring 2003. The tumor appeared out of nowhere, but I remember feeling it developing in me. It felt like every cells of my body were vibrating."

Five remembered the first time he time-traveled. It was in Spring 2003 and he remembers the exhilarating feeling of the power vibrating within his body.

"Then I felt warm, even with the cold wind outside. That's when I knew something was wrong."

Five's first attempt to time travel was small. He aimed to the next season: Summer.

"After that, there was a weird nagging feeling that made me nauseous. Then again, I felt the vibrations and suddenly felt cold."

Five, in the excitation of the moment decided to travel further into the future, in the next Winther.

"And again, I felt the vibrations followed by the warmth. But then I don't know. It felt like something inside me broke."

Five decided to aim higher; many years later, landing in the apocalypse. Despite his best efforts to go back, he was stuck there.

"So I survived for 6 years before I died in 2009."

You didn't register Andrew's grasp tightening on your shoulder, but you did register Five falling to his knees in defeat. You hurried to his side, concern guiding your movements. Your hands found their home on his cheeks, wipping away the tears falling from his sad blue eyes.

"I caused this. I'm so sorry." He engulfed your form into a desperate hug, hiding his sobs into the crook of your neck. The sound of his whimpers hurt you the most.

"Well, maybe we can go back and find a way to cure you." Luther said while comforting a crying Allison.

You shook your head, you knew it was pointless. "My parents tried everything. My tumor couldn't be removed, it was too close to a vital area and because of my ability, my tumorous cells were mutated. So chemotherapy and radiation therapy had no effect." You tenderly stroke Five's cheek to get his attention. "This wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was!" His yell made you jump. "When I time-traveled it put your cells under the same pressure than mine and because yours were not made for it, it formed a tumor!" The tears wouldn't stop falling down his face, dampening the hem of his shirt and breaking the last pieces of your heart. You had fucked up by allowing him to fall in love with you.

"I can make you forget me." The mere idea of doing it made you sick however, if it could appease his pain, you were willing to do it.

Five's eyes widened before his hands gripped both your shoulders harshly. A yelp escaped your lips at the movement, alerting your brother who jumped into action. Too late. Five had teleported the both of you at the opposed side of the room, his distressed state only allowing him that much.

"Don't you dare do that! You really think that I'd give up the only thing that made me survive the apocalypse without saying shit? I was alone for forty-five years and the possibility of meeting my soulmate one day was the only thing that gave me the strength to continue to fight! Everything I did during those forty-five years was to save our future Y/N!"

"Hey listen-" Andrew was cut off by a furious Five.

"No you listen, asshole. For once I thought I would be able to be happy! My life on the run was finally over and I could start fresh! But I'll never get to live that because she will be dead when we get back!" His breathing was getting erratic, his eyes were wide and his soul was getting more and more agitated. You noticed the once thin black strings were now not only thicker but longer too. Worry made you take his hands in yours.

"And whose fault is this, genius?"

"Andrew!" Your scream made everyone stop, even Five whose fists started flowing a soft blue, definitely planning on teleporting to your brother and beat him with all of his cumulated rage. Instead, you turned to him and asked him to teleport you both away. His eyes met yours for a second before your wish came true.

You were now at the brim of a forrest with no one around to hear what you had to say.

"Five," You took his cheek in your hands and met his angry orbs with your teary ones. "I can't thank you enough for loving me. The moments I passed with you were the best of my life and I am so, so sorry for not telling you earlier about my condition. I love you and believe me, I would do anything to be able to live alongside you." You started crying at one point and burried your face in the crook of his neck.

His arms circled your waist, pulling you further into him to register every detail of your body. Your loud sobs almost covered Five's small whisper.

"Can you do it again?"

"What?" You pulled away slightly, confused about his intentions.

"Like in training."

Ah that. You were puzzled as to why he would want you to do that right now but if it could help him get better, there's no way you would deny him. So you focussed your mind into transfering your soul into his body, lovingly tracing his soul with your fingers to appease his suffering.

You felt the shudder running up Five's spine, along with the blush warming his cheeks, earning a chuckle from you. It made you sad to think that this was the last time you would be able to tease him that way.

"Now stay in there while I get us back home."

"What?!"

"This doesn't have to be the end of us." Your body was leaned down with the utmost care on the feet of a birch tree.

"Are you sure it's gonna work?"

"I have to try." He coughed to get himself together and teleported back to the bunker where he met an angry brunette.

"Where the hell is my sister?" Luther and Diego tried to intercept the angry teenager before he got to their brother, forgetting that it was pretty simple for him to dematerialize himself and pass through them. You would have laughed at Diego's horrified face if Andrew's fist wasn't coming swiftly towards Five's face. What a drag. Five thought.

He dodged the hit by teleporting away, near the briefcase where he entered the coordinated leading to 2019.

"She's with me."

You would have rolled your eyes at Five's condescending tone if you had a physical body.

"He's worried, Five. You weren't better."

He scoffed and made his way in the center of the room. He would never admit that you had such an effect on him, even though he knew it has been pretty clear in the last minutes.

"Why?" Andrew was now less angry and more confused. Quite frankly, so were you.

"If her mind travels within another body, maybe her soul will stay alive." You hummed in approval. It could work. On his side, Andrew nodded and hurriedly flicked Five’s forehead, a groan erupting from the Hargreeve’s throat. You laughed at the gesture, making sure to restrain your soulmate’s movement so he wouldn’t hurt Roo for something that was destined to you.

“You better visit me when you get back.”

“It’s a promise!” You said after quickly gaining control of Five’s body to smile at your brother, one last time. As funny that the irritation radiating from Five was, you had something to do, so you gave him back the charge of his own body and got comfortable in some quiet corner of his mind.

The time travel to 2019 was a success. All 6 Hargreeves now back in their adult bodies, cheered at their accomplishment, some jumping into their siblings arms while others proposed to go get a drink. Five was delighted that finally, everything would be okay, his family was safe and he could live a life as normal as possible.

“Wait wait!” Klaus stopped the group from leaving the lobby of the Umbrella Academy manor and turned to his blue-eyed sibling. “Did it work? Is she still with you?”

Five took a moment to concentrate and search his mind for your presence. Usually his soul would easily find yours and interlace itself until both nearly merged together. This time, though, the desired reaction never came. With each passing second without finding you, Five’s eyes would widden more and more alerting his siblings of the problem.

Five desperately yelled your name in hope that maybe your soul had just fallen asleep or something and that you would suddenly reach out to him and soothe his worries. Seconds passed without any movement from you part, bringing Five to his knees once again. His plan didn’t work and you were lost to him forever.

“Five, let us help.”

Just as a comforting hand reached for his shoulder, Five teleported himself away to hide the new wave of tears that were falling down his cheeks. “There’s nothing any of you can do.” His voice broke just like the last string of his heart that was keeping it together. A scream broke the silence of the house, all of his pain expressing itself and bouncing around in the empty corridors, reaching his shooked siblings. It was the scream of someone who’d lost everything he had and they were scared of the lengths his desperation would push him to make himself feel better.

Even after 2 months, Five couldn’t stop himself and plan a way to get back to you. He elaborated multiple scenarios and outcomes to find a secure way to be able to go back and restore what he destroyed, meaning your brain. His bedroom walls were worse than the time he had to write his equations to find who to kill to prevent the apocalypse. Every day one of his siblings would come and see how he was doing and maybe share some words that were never answered, trying to see if their brother was lost to them too.

On the 67th day, Vanya received a text from Andrew, asking Five to meet at an address. When the news got to him, Five’s hand froze in the middle of his writing. You had promised to see him when you got back. The thought made Five’s anger boil in his veins. You made 2 promises that you didn’t keep. You had promised to love him forever, yet you were gone and now Andrew was expecting you somewhere in your country. Taking it upon himself, Five made multiple jumps to finally reach the desired destination.

“Vanya told me you had a hard time to accept that she was gone.” Immediately, Five’s hand curled into a fist, ready to lash out at the man who was proclaiming to be your brother but let you down without a fight. He wasn’t there for a whole second that Andrew was already poking into the wounds of his heart.

Five’s fist shot through the cold air of the Canadian autumn, aiming at Andrew’s face full force. Five prepared himself for the pain that usually comes when bones hit bones, yet he felt no pain, instead losing his balance when his fist passed right through the brunette. Unable to regain his balance in time, the man fell to his knees right in front of a stone. No, not a stone.

Y/N Beauchamps

October 1st, 1989

March 14th, 2009

Your grave. The sight of it made it even more real. You weren’t coming back. His anger along with his need to fight disappeared, letting place to his grief. He cries silently, his form still kneeling before the stone marking your last home. Andrew stayed close behind for a while, eyes fixed to your grave before finally touching its corner softly and walking away.

Time passed and Five couldn’t take his eyes away from your name engraved into the stone.

“I’m scared that I will lose it for good. That I'll return to be the monster that I was back at the Commission.” His puffy eyes had no more tears to share after a whole 2 months of crying your death. “I miss you so much.” He gently reached for your grave, touching the letters with care like they were a part of you.

“Took you long enough, soulmate.” Your voice echoed through his head, hurting Five even more. He was hallucinating your voice again. “Oh, no. It’s really me.” The feeling of your soul enveloping his made him gasp and fall on his behind. He could hear your voice in his dreams, your laugh in the wind, see your form in a crowd but never, never could he recreate the feeling of your souls mending.

“Y/N!?”

“I missed you too, Five.” The feeling of a kiss fell on his cheek despite anyone being around, filling him in utter joy. You were back.

“H-How-” He couldn’t form a tangible sentence, making you chuckle in the back of his mind. Its sound melted his insides and would have brought tears to his eyes if only his body wasn’t dehydrated from his last crying session.

“You were right. My mind time-travelled with your body, but the jump ate the last of my energy which forced me out of you and back at my grave.” You traced his soul with yours, eliciting a delighted sigh from Fives’s lips. “I couldn’t go and find you, so I had to wait for you to come to me.”

“Sorry for taking so long. I should have known.”

“Don’t. We are together now.” You soul snuggled into his before separating yourself and making Five panic. “Relax, I’m just incredibly tired.”

“Will you be there when you wake up?” A part of his soul reached for you, enveloping itself around a part of yours like you two were holding hands. The fear radiating from him made you dizzy.

“Yes.” You settled again into a corner of his mind, his soul still connected to yours. “Oh and Five?” He hummed in acknowledgement. “I never break a promise. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Your presence into Five’s mind kept him sane, while your appearance in his dreams made him whole.

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #soulmate #tua #the umbrella academy #the boy #number five #the handler #heartbrake #angst #lost future

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otterskin · 3 years ago

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Loki Episode #1 Thoughts

Well it’s 5AM and I still can’t sleep. Surely the safest thing to do is go on social media, right?

Anyway, time to spew some brainwaves on the digital page.

I loved it. I knew I’d love the TVA - I’m a big fan of all its influences and even took some time out to watch some films about fantastic bureaucracies to prime me for it (recommendations: The Trial (1962), Beetlejuice, Brazil, Ikiru, Naked Lunch, University of Laughs, aaaand Astérix and the Twelve Tasks - thanks for attending this brief perusal of my taste in film). I loved the little characters there, and wish we had more time in some scenes (no way was that little stack of paper all that Loki had ever said, it must’ve been an index for it). Casey especially. I want more Casey. Möbius, of course, was always destined to be my new favourite character - affable personality hiding a quietly calculating mind, soft, fluffy moustache you could nestle in during stormy weather, world-weary eyes but a spring in his step. It seems Loki hasn’t quite escaped his habit of finding father figures everywhere he does.

The other best thing was the constant, beautiful, vigorous, creative, slapstick, ridiculous beat downs and humiliations they put Loki through. This show definitely gets the most important thing about Loki’s character - he’s a complete loser. A poseur, an actor in a poorly reviewed show, a wimp, and sadly aware of all of that. Loki is not a dignified character, he’s not a mastermind or a Machiavellian manipulator. Simply put, he’s not cool. He is the designated punching bag of the universe, and anything or anyone that he cares about gets punched because of him. This is what I’ve always loved about Loki since I was tiny kid reading my first books. This is what I’ve enjoyed seeing play out in the MCU most of all. I can’t tell you how important it is to me to see Loki repeatedly punched in the face, thrown to the floor, told hard truths, see his dreams reduced to paper weights and his universe contained in a snowglobe, to be made to feel small and pathetic and worse to reveal that he feels that way to someone in a position of power over him. And here, it’s for a purpose, rather than a quick one-off gag (although I do still love the Hulk Smash like everyone else). Of course I loved this when it happened in Ragnarok as well, but that film was more focused on humiliating Thor until he felt a bit like Loki had (as well it should), although that pride-beating and Thor finally ‘getting it’ did help Loki take off a lot of his false airs. Here we see the same done again in record speed, made possible thanks to Ragnarok’s good work, but nonetheless I do cherish any opportunity to see Loki mortified.

A small fly in the ointment - I’m not a fan how the name ‘Laufeyson’ is just dropped casually upon him by the TVA. The name has never before been used onscreen in the MCU, thanks, I thought, to Loki’s backstory changing so drastically from the comics, making that name no longer work emotionally or even logically (it was Odin and Frigga who named him Loki afterall, so why is he bereft of the other name they gave him? If the TVA records only his birthname, how could it be Loki? I doubt two different sets of people gave him the same name, unless Loki is the equivalent of William or something). To see him not so much as protest its use was strange and out of character, and that the TVA would tell an adoptee their ‘official name’ is something they’ve never used is cruel. I would hope that’s a part of establishing the TVA as an uncaring bureaucracy, but nonetheless it’s an unwelcome, shrieking note that makes me a little nervous. I know Hiddleston has been referring to the Main-Timeline-Loki-Arc as the ‘Odinson Saga’, so it’s possible this is just a way of differentiating the two Lokis, although I do not care for it. Still, I can be patient, and I am willing to see if they will address this possibly insensitive plot point. Maybe it’s something foisted on Loki that he eventually rejects (I’m fine with him forgoing any last name at all if they need a different one) or if it’s a sign the writer might’ve confused the comics canon with the MCU’s. I don’t think that’s the case, since the rest is so well done, if a little...hand-holdy.

This is my other quiet fear.

I loved WandaVision...until episode 4. I went to film school, I excelled at English class, part of the fun for me was always being given a piece of media and deciphering its myriad meanings and interpretations. WandaVision was a Disneyfied Lynch series at first, and I had such fun pulling apart the visual metaphors, deciphering the dialogue, searching for meaning.

And then.

Monica.

Dammit, they did her dirty.

“It’s about grief,” she says.

From then on, WV spent a significant portion of every episode not only telling you what every little thing meant, but how it should make you feel.

Falling out of love at 9.18 m/s allowed for some serious acceleration by the time we hit the infamous finale.

Loki has not exactly been a difficult puzzle to solve compared to some obtuse pieces of media I adore, but by god, it was easy to take his limited screen time and talk and talk and talk about the guy. While I could fill five pages about Tony Stark, I could write a book about Loki (and it seems like I am with Finnesang, damn it). I liked interpreting, I liked using my limited knowledge of Shakespeare and Mythology to glean insight into creative choices, I even kinda liked arguing with people about who this character was. A part of me is scared that this show will just...say it. Like Monica did. And that takes something away. There was a little of that here, but I’m torn on whether it was necessary to get the people who are way off on Loki’s characterization on close to the same page as everyone else, or whether it was a little too...explain-o-vision. At the same time, speaking frankly about a character we’ve supposed about for years is refreshing, lets us clear out the old air, and maybe gives us permission to open the windows and let new things in.

That’s what I really want from the show. Some old things, plenty of new things, and lots for me to dig into and play with. I suppose I’ve already done so with material from the trailers, which means I definitely do still have something to play with, but...I just want to avoid taking the specialness out of a very special character to me.

It definitely means something that I am so exhilarated after watching it that it is now 5:30 AM and I’ve still no desire for sleep. This is gonna be an...intense six weeks.

I guess I’ll just watch Valhalla again while I chew on this first episode.

#loki #loki show #review #disney+

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toria-lilith · 4 years ago

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Smoke and Roses - A Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx fan fiction (chapter one)

A/N - Hi guys! So I made a post about this a few days ago but I decided, since I finally remembered the fucking password to this blog, that I’d rework some of the writing and plot points in Smoke and Roses, and republish it! I really hope you enjoy more this time round!

Fic Summary: Holland Van-Ness is a PR manager. At only twenty three years old, she is smart, sharp and straight edge; and the best in the business at what she does. But when she gets involved with the reckless Motley Crue, her life changes forever.

DISCLAIMER:: I would like start by saying I do not condone any of the actions portrayed by any member of Motley Crue, any member of their crew, or any OC. This work is fictitious, and is in no way meant to glamorise drug or alcohol abuse. ‘Smoke and Roses’ is based on the events of Netflix’s ‘The Dirt’, and the autobiography of the same name, and follows the both of them closely, and will include details regarding the aforementioned abuse that may be triggering to some readers. The timeline in this fic also differs slightly from real life and The Dirt. With all that being said, proceed with caution, and enjoy!

It was the ringing of the phone that awoke Holland.

In her grogginess, she seriously considered rolling back over and ignoring it, but just when she thought it was done, it started to ring again; long, and loud, and tearing her back from the comfort of sleep.

Holland groaned. She rolled begrudgingly out of bed and made her way across her bedroom, where her phone was hung upon the wall opposite her bed by the window. Whoever was calling her better have had a damn good reason to be bothering her at nine AM, and on a Saturday of all days.

“Hello?” She said tiredly into the receiver, running a hand back through her dark blonde hair to push it back from her face, “Holland Van-Ness speaking.”

“Ahh, Holly,” a voice, irritatingly cheerful for the time of day, greeted her on the other end. “It’s Doc Mghee.”

Well, that certainly peaked her interest, and Holland was suddenly wide awake. Though she had known Doc for years, he rarely called for a chat, which could only mean one thing; he had a job for her. “Doc, good to hear from you,” she responded warmly, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

It had been a year or so since Holland had last spoken to the infamous manager. He had been a close friend of her Father’s before he passed away, and had been the one to help her break into the music industry when she was a mere eighteen years old. That had been five years ago; and Holland was eternally grateful. She owed a massive amount of her success to Doc. “Tell me,” he said, “how soon are you able to get to LA?”

Holland raised an eyebrow at the question even though Doc couldn’t see her. “Doc, if I’m going to make a trip to LA, I should know what it’s about.”

Doc chuckled. “I’m getting to it. I’ve found you a band.”

“Oh yeah?” Holland had expected that, of course. She balanced the phone between her ear and her shoulder and reached over to her dresser to fish for a notebook and pen. “And… what band might this be?”

“You’re not going to like it,” Doc chuckled again, and Holland didn’t like the way he seemed to be deliberately avoiding answering her question. “But just hear me out, alright? I think this might be just the challenge you’ve been looking for.”

Holland felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. Part of her thought she knew exactly who had had in mind, and he was right; she didn’t like it. “...Go on,” she pressed him after a moment.

Doc chuckled for a third time. He sounded unmistakably nervous. “Motley Crue.”

For a moment, Holland was silent as she digested this information, and then she laughed. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Holly-”

“Are you crazy? Doc, you seriously want me to fly all the way out to LA to be their PR manager? That’s career suicide!”

“Holly,” he went on pleadingly, “these boys need help. If anyone can sort out their shit-show of a public image, it’s you. They’re on the verge of real success here, but my God, their image has got to be fixed. They need you, Holly. Just come to one show. If you think they’re beyond help, I’ll pay for your flight back. But just give them a chance. These kids need some sense talking into them and they don’t listen to me.”

“Kids?” Holland scoffed. “They’re not kids, they’re grown ass men!”

“Look, the choice is yours,” Doc sighed heavily, “can I expect to meet you at the airport or not?”

“Dammit Doc…” she groaned loudly, making it very clear to him exactly how she felt. “Fine. I’ll catch the next flight out.”

Holland heard Doc cheer. “Holland Van-Ness, you are a star!”

The line went dead as Doc hung up. That time, it was Holland’s turn to sigh. She’d heard stories about Motley Crue that were rivalled only by her nightmares. In the six months since they’d debuted, they’d singlehandedly caused more problems than any other band Holland had managed, and she had had to put up with some serious shit. From their very first gig, Holland had decided they were trouble, and she had sworn to herself that she was not going to get involved with them or any other band like them. Apparently, that was not a promise she was going to be keeping.

Holland padded sleepily into the bathroom, where she lingered for a moment to brush her teeth and pull a comb through her hair. She paused by the sink to take a good luck at her reflection. She looked a damn sight better than she had done five minutes ago, but there was an emotion in her eyes that Holland didn’t immediately recognize. She realised after a moment, that it was fear.

She drew in a shaky breath. When she told Doc working with Motley was career suicide, she hadn’t been joking, and that thought scared her more than anything. If she didn’t have her job, what did she have?

She rushed back into her bedroom where she dressed quickly and threw a few essentials into a small suitcase. Anything else she needed, or had forgotten, she supposed she could buy once she landed in LA. Holland had worked with a menagerie of bands; from small, local acts to headlining musicians. She had helped all of them maintain a fairly respectable public image. But now, in the cab on her way to the airport to meet Motley freakin’ Crue, she couldn’t help but feel as though she was completely out of her depth.

She made her way through customs fairly quickly and within the hour, found herself in a less than comfortable aisle seat on a four hour flight from Miami to LA. That sinking feeling remade its home in her stomach as the plane started its ascension, and Holland found herself gripping the arm rest, so tightly her knuckles strained white against her skin. She was at least comforted by the thought that when she inevitably wanted to return home, she wouldn’t have to pay for the flight.

As the plane made its way through the sky towards LA, Holland tried to catch up on the sleep that Doc had so cruelly taken from her but it was nearly impossible over the roar of the engines and her own feelings of anxiety, and so eventually, she gave up and resigned herself to watching the clouds whizz by the window. Before she knew it, LA was upon her, and she found Doc waiting for her by the luggage claim.

When she saw her old family friend, all her frustration momentarily drained away and she embraced him in a tight, if not brief, hug. “It’s good to see you, Holly,” he told her with a smile.

“And you!” She said. She looked anxiously over his shoulder, expecting to see the band stroll through the duty free stores towards them. “They’re not joining us?” She asked him.

“Relax,” Doc assured her quickly, “they’re not here. I thought you’d want to get some brunch and get settled in first.”

Holland smiled weakly, reassured. “That sounds great.”

She collected her suitcase and allowed Doc to carry it out to the cab for her. She could have carried it herself given that it wasn’t too heavy, but she was exhausted after her busy morning, and was secretly grateful for his help. When they got into the back of the cab, Doc looked as though he was going to start with some pleasantries, but when he turned to Holland and saw the look on her face, he knew she was ready to talk business. He could tell she had a lot of questions, and motioned for her to start.

“Alright,” she said, folding her hands casually on her lap, “first and foremost, where am I going to be staying? You didn’t mention a hotel or anything in your phone call.”

Doc grimaced and didn’t say anything for what felt like an eternity. “Once again,” he said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “you’re not going to like it.”

Holland’s face fell a mile. “Doc…” she deadpanned, “tell me I’m not going to be staying with them.” She looked at him intently but Doc said nothing, which only confirmed her fears. “Are you serious, Doc?” She asked him furiously, “working with them is going to be bad enough!”

“The money’s not bad,” he reminded her, hoping to diffuse the situation but she only scoffed.

“Yet clearly not good enough to buy me a hotel room,” she scowled. “Why the hell do I have to stay with them?”

“Holly, these boys aren’t like anyone you’ve ever worked with before,” Doc told her. “You’re going to have to work a lot harder with them than you have with any other band. You’re going to need them to trust you, Holly. And this is the way to do that.” He gave her a look that Holly recognized and understood almost instantly. It was the same pleading look her Father used when he wanted her to cooperate.

Even so, she groaned loudly. “Alright, fine,” she relented. “I’ll stay with them.” She sighed, turning to look out of the window to avoid seeing the triumphant grin on Doc’s face. “So, what are they like?”

“They’re…” Doc trailed off. He glanced out of his own window, as though the street passing by would inspire him. “They’re a handful,” he settled on eventually, “self centered. Arrogant. But, they’re talented as Hell, and I think they’ve got it in them to be good kids. They just need a little push in the right direction.”

Holland hummed in acknowledgement. She didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t need to. A beeping sound came from Doc’s pocket. He sighed, pulling out the small pager. A scowl passed over his face.

“Aw, crap,” he mumbled, “sorry, Holly. We might have to put that brunch on hold.” He slipped the pager back into his pocket and fed another address to the cab driver, different to the one he had initially given.

“Why?” Holland frowned, “what’s happened?”

“What’s happened is you’re about to start your job a couple hours early,” he said grimly, “there’s been a fight.”

Holland found herself rolling her eyes. “Of course there has,” she grumbled, though she didn’t know why she was surprised. When working with Motley Crue, she should have expected nothing less.

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