#luther is the navigator

[mlady-magnolia]

Yeah so… I have ideas for the Mermaid AU

Anyway look!! It’s the IMF Crew!

[luther0ne]

LUTHER HARGREEVES

“i never wanted to be the bad guy.”

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open starters , memes screencaps from: https://thetvshows.us

age: 30+

gender: nonbinary (masc aligned)

pronouns: he/they

selectivity: non-selective rp, ship selective. other than ship and romance content, go wild!

no oc’s or muns under 18 please.

THIS BLOG IS UN-ARGUABLY PRO-PALESTINE AND ANTI-ISRAEL GOVERNMENT. ANYONE WHO SUPPORTS ISRAEL OR IS ANTI-PALESTINE, OR THINKS THAT PRO-PALESTINE PEOPLE SHOULDN'T BE OR ANYTHING RELATED TO THAT SHOULD NOT INTERACT.

mun: 20, he/they

probably won't be active! due to my own feelings and actions this blog kinda makes me anxious and I'll probably avoid it. I'm sorry to anyone this may impact. depending on how I feel in the future I may come back <3

[the-upside-down-umbrella]

Partners? Partners.

Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N Hargreeves, formerly of the Sparrow Academy, finds herself virtually alone in the reset timeline. The Umbrella’s bring her in to their chaos and she builds something new for herself while still navigating the grief of losing her family. She’s happy in the simplicity. That is, until the one Hargreeves she can’t seem to win over comes to her with an offer she might not be able to refuse.

Warnings: Some cursing. Some angst.

(Part 1/?)

A/N: This one will be 4 or 5 parts. A bit of a coffee shop AU if you squint

——————

She missed her family. She missed them so desperately that sometimes when she dreamt of them at night, she would wake up in tears as the loneliness set in and she realized that her dreams were the only place she would see them again. They had been dysfunctional and as far as families go, not that close, but they had been hers. She would never understand how she had survived everything, how she had made it through the reset when the others did not. She technically had Ben but he had distanced himself not just from the Umbrella’s, but from her, as soon as they fell into this timeline. Now he was in prison for a white-collar bitcoin crime and he refused to have visitors altogether. She was well and truly the last of her family.

It got easier with time and she fell into a predictable, mundane routine. For the first time in her life, she was forced to slow down and be a normal human being. No powers. No Sparrow Academy. Just living and surviving.

She found an apartment with a roommate who mostly kept to themselves and a stable, if not a bit boring, job as a barista at a local coffee shop just a block from home. It wasn’t much and some months she was barely scraping by, but it was a start and she was happy.

The other Hargreeves children, the Umbrellas, brought her into the fold of their chaotic family and soon, she began to feel less alone.

She had brunch with Luther every Sunday at his club. They spent that time talking about Sloane, keeping her memory alive between them. She shared her childhood memories of her sister and Luther soaked it all in, grateful to receive any little piece of new information about his wife that he could get. She was thankful for that time with him and happy that someone loved Sloane the way she always deserved to be loved. Even if it was just for a moment.

Diego and Lila had her over for family game night at least once a month and she had coffee with Lila every week at the shop. Their children called her aunt and she made sure that they were properly spoiled, much to their parent's dismay.

She made the trek to Victor’s bar often in the evenings not just for the free drinks, but because he was actually wonderful company and he made sure to carve out time to sit and talk with her whenever he could take a break from running things. Like her, she suspected that he also felt a bit lonely.

Klaus and Allison came as a pair these days. Their dynamic was a sight to behold as Klaus navigated his newfound sobriety, and Allison pulled together a life doing what she loved, to support her daughter. She loved being around them.

But there was one particular family member that Y/N could not quite figure out.

Five.

Apart from their initial interaction at Sloane and Luther’s wedding where he had drunkenly accosted her about her powers, he had barely acknowledged her existence. While she was building relationships with his other siblings, he kept her at arm's length. Sure, he was cordial with her at family events and dinners, but that’s where he drew the line. He rebuffed every attempt she made at finding a connection with him.

That is until he started showing up every morning at the coffee shop she worked at. The same time every morning and the same, predictable order.

The first time he walked through the door she was taken aback. She knew he lived on the other side of town but she chalked it up to some work thing bringing him there.

He made his order, indulged her in small talk, and sat down, opening up a newspaper to read while he sipped his coffee.

She thought it was a one-off, but was very surprised when he turned up the next morning at the same time.

And then the morning after that and the morning after that.

He began conversing with her for longer periods of time, asking questions about her day-to-day life after the reset and even sharing some tidbits of information about himself. She knew he worked for the CIA and had recently moved into a new apartment.

A few weeks went by and each day was the same. It reached the point that she would have his coffee made and the donut he liked set aside before he even made it through the door.

But after a while, her curiosity began to get the better of her. Why was he here? Why was he suddenly showing interest in her and what she was doing with her life? It was making her crazy!

“Your black, boring coffee, sir,” Y/N said in the most sugary sweet voice she could muster, setting the cup down in front of the irritating man in front of her.

Five immediately picked it up and took a deep sip, “Fantastic as usual.”

She pulled the chair out across from him and sat down with a huff, “Cut the crap, Five. We both know you have much closer coffee shops to your apartment. Why, may I ask, do you insist on frequenting mine? Is it just to pester me?”

“Maybe I just like your company,” Five shrugged, leaning back to observe her.

This poked at her ire even more. He was always doing that. Just observing her like some sort of animal in an enclosure. Always there at his little table near the window. Rain or shine.

“Oh please!” She scoffed, “You’ve never given any indication that you even like me, let alone enjoy my company. In fact, until you started showing up here every day, I was pretty sure you hated me. So, again, cut the crap and tell me why you’re really here.”

“Fine,” he said, sitting his mug down so that he could give her his full, undivided attention, “I have a proposition for you.”

“This should be good.”

“My boss wants me to take on a partner,” he explained, “but the problem with that is that I don’t really trust…anyone really. But I’ve watched you these last few years, Y/N, and I know that you’re smart, analytical, and incredibly sharp. Your powers fine-tuned all of your senses and even if you don’t have them anymore, that’s still there. And that’s what I want in a partner.”

“Five, I’m not even trained to work for the CIA,” she reminded him, “I’m sure they’re not going to just let some random person join ranks without experience.”

“But you do have experience,” he insisted, “you’re a Sparrow. You’ve literally been trained since birth to be a fighter, a spy, or whatever else Dad needed us to be.”

“Need I remind you that neither the sparrows nor the umbrellas existed in this timeline? So none of that is going to mean jack shit to anyone.”

“It will if I forge a few documents,” he said, leaning forward so that he could get a clear look at her, “How do you think I got this far looking this young? I’ll do the same for you and everyone will think you’re an FBI transfer. They’ll be none the wiser. Trust me, not everyone high up is as smart as they’d like to think they are.”

She doubted anyone was that stupid.

“Five, this might come as a surprise to you, but I actually really like my life here,” she told him, “it’s peaceful and easy and I don’t really need any more than that. After so long of fighting and striving for perfection for the Sparrows, I’m ready to just settle down and live slowly. So, thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”

“You say that,” he chuckled, “you say that you want peace and quiet but I know that’s just something you tell yourself. Because I’ve told myself the same thing and it didn’t suit me. But let’s face it, you’re as unhinged as me. You NEED the chaos. You thrive on it.”

“You’re really not doing yourself any favors here, Five,” she hissed. “Besides, why me? Why haven’t you asked Diego? Hasn’t he been bugging you about bringing in his resume? Make him your partner.”

“Diego and Lila have enough going on in their lives,” he waved her off, “And Diego is a skilled fighter but he lacks in the brains department. Trust me.”

With that final statement, Five stood up and pushed in his chair before downing the last dredges of his coffee, “Just think about it, okay? And until then, I’ll be here every day, as usual. No one makes a cup of coffee quite like you.”

With a wink he left her sitting at the table alone, wondering why on earth she was actually considering his offer.

[terrapia]

Questions I'm DYING to get the answers to:

- what happened to Sloane?

- what happened to Pogo?

- why didn't Viktor play the violin like...ever again after season 1?

- how come Luther turned into an ape man again after drinking the marigold juice? Wasn't that only a side effect of the serum? Which he...didn't get this time?

- how come Five didn't go all psycho when meeting other Fives? What happened to the paradox?

- why did Ray walk out on Allison?

- couldn't Viktor suck out the durango and marigold from them to save them all? Wasn't THAT the problem instead of them?

- where did Five live ???? Like honestly i would LOVE to see more of him navigating through his life as an ordinary man

- what's up with the laser eyes Lila got? What was the point?

- how come Diego didn't even say proper goodbye to his kids?

- why didn't we get at least ONE interaction between Five and Claire?

- what was the point of the post-credit s3 scene with Ben on the train? Like what

- Jennifer got shit out of a giant squid? Come again?

So basically i am confused af and if any of you can explain any of these pls reblog. What the actual fuck even was this season.

[ohmyitsfaith]

Younger survivors

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: In your thirteen year old bodies, you try to navigate your first day in 2019. Thankfully, the Hargreeves siblings are ready to help your little family.

Warnings: Viktor referred to as Vanya and she/her pronouns, non-sexual nudity

Word count: 3k

A/n: This time I genuinely debated whether or not just write Viktor as Viktor, instead of delivering his full story through the rest of the series. If this ends up being the last chapter, I will come back and actually change the pronouns and the name, but for now I stayed with Vanya.

The shock of being in your 13 year old body didn’t hit until Penny started crying. At first you weren’t sure what made her cry. She just stopped a moment ago, so the fear now faded. And then, dread pooling in your stomach, you realized that you just started feeding Penny when you jumped. She was undoubtedly still hungry.

“I-” you started, Five’s siblings still staring at you, shocked by your sudden entrance. “Five-” you looked at your husband. “Could we go in?”

“Y-yeah” Five nodded, picking up Max into his arms.

“Five!” the woman with the beautiful curly hair called out to him. Allison, if you remembered correctly about Five’s description of his siblings. “Don’t you think you have some explaining to do?”

“Yeah, but my children are more important right now” Five sighed. “Inside. I’ll tell you everything.”

He gently took your hand, and you walked into the building. He showed you the kitchen.

“Five” you whispered. “Penny is hungry.”

“Do you need a private-” then he realized what you already had when Penny started crying. You didn’t produce milk anymore. “Oh… shit.”

You sat down on a chair, bouncing baby Penny in your arms. Five sat Max down next to you. Max still looked frightened. You could only imagine just how much. Previously he could express all his thoughts and now, caused by his much younger body’s not yet fully developed muscles, he was confined to his thoughts and some words.

“Mama” he said, looking at you and you could see all his fears in his eyes.

“I know, darling” you reached out with your free hand, caressing his face. “Everything will be okay.”

Max leaned into your side, reaching up to hold Penny’s little leg in a comforting manner.

Through this conversation, Five blinked out, then back in, his arms full of different formulas.

“I…” he put the bottles down. “I didn’t know which…”

“It’s okay” you sighed, reaching for his hand. “This is still better than what we had with Max. Neither of us could’ve known which one is right” you said, trying to calm his racing mind. “Thank you, darling.”

There was a cough from the side, which made you look at the Hargreeves siblings. They crowded in the doorway to the kitchen, watching you with different expressions. In a moment’s time though, Allison stepped forward, grabbing one of the formula bottles and went to the sink. Without a word, she started preparing the formula, and even produced a bottle. You could only watch in astonishment.

“Five” the big guy, Luther, called out to him. “Explain, please.”

Five looked toward him and nodded. He looked around, while gathering his thoughts, looking for something. He grabbed some bread, a jar of peanut butter and a bag of… marshmallows?

“First: a question. What’s today’s date?” he looked up at the group and started on a sandwich.

“The 24th of March” Vanya answered.

“Good” Five sighed and put the peanut butter on both breads. He spread it carefully while he started to talk. “The truth is, while for you I’ve only been gone for seventeen years, I actually spent about thirty-five years away.”

“Away where?” Luther asked.

“In a place that’s worse than hell. Part of the future.”

Allison finished the formula and turned, presenting it to you.

“Thank you so much” you looked up at her, grateful.

“I know what it’s like to struggle with breastmilk” she smiled gently, then turned to Five. “Is this what you’ve done in those thirty-five years?”

“I’ve done a lot more” he gritted his teeth, his short temper getting the better of him. How dare Allison demean you and his family? But then he noticed you, squinting your eyes at him in warning. You started feeding Penny, who eagerly latched onto the bottle. “Yeah…” he sighed finally, sprinkling marshmallows on the peanut butter and putting it together, he placed the sandwich in front of Max. “This is my little family. Y/n, my wife” you smiled at the group, “Max, my son” he gently ran his fingers through his hair. “And my daughter, Penny.”

“It’s nice to meet you all” you nodded to them. “Five told me a lot about you.”

Allison, Vanya and Klaus all smiled back, while Diego and Luther still watched Five, confused.

“Okay, so…” Diego started. “What? You’re forty-eight?”

“No, my consciousness is forty-eight” he looked down at himself. “My body is apparently thirteen.”

“How did you even come back?” Vanya asked.

“Well… in the end I had to project our consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of ourselves that exists across every possible instance of time” he explained.

“That makes no sense” Diego scoffed.

“It would if you were smarter” Five replied immediately.

“In english” you put down the now empty bottle on the table and lifted Penny to your shoulder to burp her. “He grabbed a timeless version of us and transported that body here.”

“How are you thirteen then?” Klaus asked, looking at you, curious, ignoring Diego who was ready to fight with Five.

“A slip in the calculation” you hummed, and touched Five’s hand, who looked at you very guiltily. “Not ideal, but at least we’re here.”

“At the very least” Five whispered and took your hand in his own to kiss your knuckles, right on the ring that was now loose on your finger.

“Well, aren’t you two cuties” Klaus grinned.

“Dada” Max’s voice was thin, looking at Five. “I’m hungry.”

“Are you sure, little crumb? Your stomach isn’t as big as it was an hour ago” he said gently.

“I want more” Max nodded.

“Well, alright” Five sighed and started on the second sandwich. “Y/n?”

“Yeah, I could eat” you nodded. “Don’t forget to make yourself one as well.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“Can…” Klaus suddenly spoke up. “Can I hold my niece?”

“I don’t think that’s a-” Allison started, but you stood up and went over to Klaus.

“I trust him” you looked toward Allison for a second before looking at Klaus. “You see how I’m holding her? Try to copy it. Though she can hold her own head up now, we should be careful.”

“Klaus nodded and tried to copy your arm placement. After he somewhat got it, you placed Penny gently in his arms, making sure that she was held tightly.

“Good” you smiled gently.

“Oh my god, she is tiny!” Klaus breathed.

“Yeah. But Max was smaller.”

“She is beautiful” he awed at her sleeping form. “Her little nose is yours. But those lips, they’re Five’s through and through.”

“Her eyes are Five’s as well. Both children were lucky to get his beautiful green eyes.”

“Your eyes are plenty beautiful, my love” he looked at you seriously.

“I know. But your eyes, my love” you said, mockingly serious, “are magical.”

“Shut up” Five rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his face.

“She truly is beautiful” Allison said finally. “They both are.”

“Thank you” you smiled.

“How old were they?” Vanya asked suddenly.

“Thirteen” Max said, with a lisp. He immediately frowned, annoyed that his ‘r’ didn’t roll.

“Yeah, he was thirteen and Penny was two” you confirmed, taking the sandwich that Five offered you with a grateful smile.

“That’s quite a big change” Luther marveled.

“About as big as the change from forty-eight to thirteen” Five commented.

“This is stupid” Diego finally stood up and left the room.

The rest of the Hargreeves sighed, used to Diego’s almost permanently annoyed state, but you just looked at the door, where he left, confused.

“What’s his problem?” you asked.

“He is… well” Luther tried to explain. “He isn’t really happy that the family is back together.”

“No, he isn’t really happy that you accused us of Dad’s murder” Allison looked at him, annoyed as well.

“Again, I didn’t-” Luther raised his voice slightly.

“Shut up!” Klaus looked at him. “You’ll wake up Penny.”

“Sorry…” Luther quieted down.

“We should get some fresh clothes” Five put his hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll help” Allison stood up. “I’ll grab some children’s clothes.”

Five nodded gratefully and reached out for Max to take his hand. “Come on, little crumb. We’ll take a shower.”

“Okay dada” Max nodded, smiling.

You took Penny from Klaus’s hands, smiling at the man, then followed your husband out of the kitchen. He lead you to a room that had a kid’s bed and cute wallpaper on the walls.

“Was this your room?” you marveled at your surroundings.

“Yeah” he nodded.

But along with the awe of finally seeing your husband’s old room, you also feel a deep rooted sadness. He was so young when he disappeared. He was young and scared shitless. Sure, so were you, but seeing this… it made your heart hurt all the more. You turned to him and watched as he opened the closet and looked at the clothes, frowning.

“Five…” you called out to him gently. He turned to you questioningly. “Are you okay?”

He looked away for a moment, thinking. Was he? He finally had everything he worked for. He finally got back to his siblings, who he loved endlessly. He could finally save them.

But in the process of everything, he managed to get himself and his family stuck in their younger bodies. He now looked thirteen, his wife also. If he didn’t know it was you, who traveled with him, he probably wouldn’t have recognized you. After all, he didn’t know you from the beginning of his time in the apocalypse.

“I’m managing” he said simply. “It’s not easy, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Okay” you nodded and leaned closer to press a kiss to his lips. “I’ll be here. Always.”

“Thank you, my love” he smiled thankfully, then turned back and took two uniforms out of the closet. “Here you go, this should be good for you as well.”

“So… we’ll be matching?” you smirked.

“Yeah” he nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Ah, true couple goals” you sighed, which earned a laugh from Five.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, pulling you close. “You’re so dumb” he said fondly.

Allison finally arrived with a bag of clothes for Max and Penny separately. She helped pick out an outfit for the two of them, so Max and Five could finally head off for a shower. From the door, Five looked back.

“Thank you” he said, looking at Allison.

“From one parent to another, this is nothing” she smiled.

“Her name is Claire, right?” he asked and Allison nodded with slightly wider eyes. She didn’t think Five knew about her daughter. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

With that they left the room. You finally sat down on Five’s bed and sighed. This was already a long day and you were tired. Thankfully, Penny was still sleeping in your arms. You were blessed by her deep sleeping habits on many occasions. One being this time.

“Can I hold her?” Allison asked suddenly.

“Oh, uh, sure” you snapped out of your thoughts. She gently took your daughter from your arms and sat down next to you. “It’s so weird…”

She turned to you, curious what you were thinking about.

“Well… I’m now thirteen. Barely ten years older than my son and barely twelve years older than my daughter” you explained your thoughts. “I never really worried about what people thought of me. But now…”

“Well… some of us live really private lives” Allison tried to soothe you.

“Not you though” you smiled. “I heard you’re an actress.”

“Yeah” she laughed gently.

“I wonder how my life would’ve turned out if…” you sighed, not having the heart to finish it. “When I was a kid, I would’ve loved to become an actor or singer” you reminisced. “Though on the flip side, I would’ve loved to be a spy, a doctor, an astronaut, a teacher and a bunch of other things as well” you laughed.

“The dreams of kids…” Allison commented, a gentle smile resting on her face. “Instead you became a mother. It’s kind of the best job in the world.”

“It really is” you looked at your daughter and caressed her chubby cheeks gently.

“Did you have a dream job? One that stayed your dream no matter what else was there?” she asked.

“Hm” you hummed. “I’m not really sure. It’s been a long while. Why?”

“Well… you got a second chance at achieving that dream” she explained. “Not many people get that” she furrowed her brows. “Actually, no one really gets that.”

“That’s true” you nodded, thinking about it.

“Hell, you could even have a full football team of kids” she snorted and it also made you laugh. You really could. Though you didn’t know if that was really something you’d want.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You sat in silence for a few seconds, Allison gently rocking Penny. You could see on her face how much she loved kids. And she was really good with them. With Penny. It made sense with her having a daughter as well.

“How old is she?” you asked.

“Claire?” she looked at you and you nodded. “Five. She is five.”

“Those are the golden years” you sighed. “From the age of three to six. Everything just gets harder after that.”

“Yeah” Allison nodded, looking thoughtful and… sad.

The next moment Max came running in, his underwear and shirt on, but he was missing his pants. As he rounded the corner, his socks slipped on the floor and he fell on his side.

“Max!” you jumped up and hurried over to him. “Son, what did we say about running in your socks!”

You helped him up, looking his body over to see if he injured himself anywhere.

“Sorry Mama” he looked at you sadly.

“Why were you even running?” you asked him, taking his hands in your own. You noticed that the skin of his palms were scraped.

“Will you heal it?” Max asked, ignoring your question.

“You caused this yourself, why should I?” you looked at him seriously. “You know our rule. If the injury is small, like a scrape, plus you inflicted it upon yourself because you didn’t listen to dad or me, then you have to suffer the consequences.”

“But Ma!” he whined. “Please, for the funeral!”

“Max” you narrowed your eyes. “That’s the rule.”

“Please” he stomped his feet, looking at you with puppy eyes.

“Max.”

“You heal?” Allison suddenly asked. “You have a superpower?”

“Yeah. I can heal any injuries” you nodded, looking back at her. “It takes time and energy though.”

“That’s… awesome” she hummed.

You looked back at Max. “Put your pants on. You can have a plaster, but that’s it.”

“But-”

“No buts” you put your finger up and stood up. “Allison,” you looked at her. “Could I ask you to watch Max and Penny for a bit? I’ll go shower quickly.”

“Yeah” she nodded.

“Thank you so much” you said gratefully and grabbed the uniform Five gave you.

When you were going up to Five’s room, he pointed out one of the bathrooms, that was closest to his room. That’s where you were headed, hoping to find your husband still there. Everything was so hard to process and you needed comfort from him if only for a short while. And you knew he needed some as well.

The shower was running when you reached the door and you knocked on it.

“Five, darling?” you called out to him.

“I’m here” he yelled over the rushing water.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

You didn’t hear a reply, but opened the door and quickly slid in. He was currently showering, his dirty clothes on a chair close by. His ring on the sink, safe from falling down the drain.

“Everything okay?” he asked, looking at you.

“Yeah” you sighed and put your fresh clothes next to his. You made quick work of your clothes and placed your ring next to his. He helped you into the tub, his hands going to your waist immediately. “Yeah, now I am.”

You pulled him in for a hug, your feelings washing over you along with the water. It was warm, perfectly so. His arms held you tight, and though you knew this was your husband and his hug still felt the same in terms of feelings shared, it was also… off. Like this body that held you close wasn’t the same.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to forget about it.

“I’m sorry” Five suddenly whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

It broke you. It wasn’t Five’s fault. Time travel was messy to begin with, he couldn’t have known. You will never blame him for it. You were at least safe, you could help his family.

You felt him start to shake. A rare moment of complete vulnerability that he had trouble showing even around you. And it broke your heart so much that you couldn’t really do anything to help him. You just hugged him close, caressing his bare back. You also felt the tears in your own throat, but tried to keep them in.

“It’s going to be okay” you whispered into his neck. “It’s all going to be okay.”

He squeezed harder at that, his shoulders shaking with the force of his silent sobs. You couldn’t help it anymore, your own tears slipped loose. You didn’t know… how could you help him? There wasn’t anything… you were helpless.

You put one of your hand into his hair, massaging his roots, while you tried to keep your own sobs down.

“I’m here” you whispered. “We’re here.”

His right hand gripped the back of your neck, trying to pull himself back to the ground. Though this is what he wanted, to be here with his siblings, he also couldn’t help but wish his life back. His body. Not this small one. He even wished for the small height difference that you had before.

“We’ll be okay” you sighed, your own emotions finally back in order.

“We’ll be okay” he repeated, swallowing his sobs. He breathed deeply, smelling your familiar scent. At least that was the same.

“I love you” you said, massaging his head. “No matter the body, the age, I’ll always love you.”

“I love you too” he sighed, calming down. “I love you too.”

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Masterlist]

Taglist: @snixx2088 @lxkeeeee @kimm4710 @sagestack @koshi-sama @cherryinsalemverse @lifrimen @misty-eyed-memory

[inkspiredwriting]

Love, Hate, and Everything in Between

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Y/N and Five had the kind of relationship that was equal parts fiery arguments and undeniable chemistry. They bickered over everything, from the best way to handle temporal anomalies to whose turn it was to make coffee. But beneath the constant banter, there was a deep connection that neither of them could ignore.

One particularly intense day, after a mission that had gone sideways due to Five's impulsiveness and Y/N's stubbornness, they found themselves alone in the Umbrella Academy mansion. The argument that ensued was explosive, with both of them yelling and gesturing wildly.

"Why can't you ever just listen to me?" Y/N shouted, her face flushed with frustration.

"Because your plans are always overly complicated!" Five shot back, his eyes blazing.

They stood there, breathing heavily, the tension between them palpable. Then, without thinking, Five stepped forward and kissed her. It was as if all the anger and frustration melted away in that moment, replaced by an intense, undeniable passion.

What followed was an incredible night filled with laughter, whispered confessions, and the kind of intimacy that transcended their usual love-hate dynamic. For once, they let their guards down completely, and it was magical.

The next morning, however, brought a new challenge. Klaus, ever the nosy sibling, had noticed the change in the atmosphere. As Y/N and Five tried to navigate their way through breakfast without making eye contact, Klaus sauntered into the kitchen, a knowing smirk on his face.

"Well, well, well," Klaus drawled, leaning against the counter. "What do we have here? Did our favorite bickering duo finally decide to make up?"

Five rolled his eyes, desperately trying to keep a straight face. "Klaus, mind your own business."

Y/N, blushing furiously, tried to focus on her coffee. "Yeah, Klaus. Can't you find someone else to bother?"

Klaus chuckled, clearly enjoying their discomfort. "Oh, but this is so much more fun. You two were like a ticking time bomb, and I, for one, am thrilled to see it finally go off."

Throughout the day, Klaus continued to drop hints and make suggestive comments, much to the annoyance of Five and Y/N. During a meeting, he winked at them, causing Luther and Diego to exchange puzzled glances.

"What's with you today, Klaus?" Diego asked, narrowing his eyes.

Klaus grinned. "Oh, nothing. Just appreciating the beauty of love in unexpected places."

Five groaned, rubbing his temples. "Can we please focus on the task at hand?"

Y/N shot Klaus a warning look, but he just winked at her. "Oh, come on, Y/N. Lighten up. It's all in good fun."

As the day wore on, Five and Y/N found themselves constantly bumping into each other, their usual bickering now tinged with a new, playful energy. Despite Klaus's relentless teasing, they couldn't help but steal glances and share secret smiles.

Later that evening, after everyone had retired to their rooms, Five found Y/N on the rooftop, staring out at the city. He approached quietly, slipping his hand into hers.

"Sorry about Klaus," he said softly. "He's impossible."

Y/N laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder. "It's okay. He's actually kind of right. We were a ticking time bomb."

Five smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Yeah, but maybe that's not such a bad thing."

As they stood there together, wrapped in the warmth of the moment, they realized that their love-hate relationship had only made their bond stronger.

And if dealing with Klaus's teasing was the price they had to pay, it was a small one. Because for the first time, they knew that they were exactly where they were meant to be—side by side, ready to face whatever came next.

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed I TUA insert

Chapter: 02

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

Masterlist

…

“What’s the date? The exact date” are the second words I hear come from Five’s mouth in almost 17 years. He brought us to the kitchen after making us question reality with his boyish appearance. We all sat around the kitchen table as he moved back and forth in an oversized suit making some type of snack.

“The 24th..” Vanya answers quietly.

“Of what..?”

I raise my head from looking at Five’s cutting board on the table and speak up “March.” I reply to him,

“Good,” he sighs.

All of us are dumbfounded, Klaus even has his hand over his mouth in shock. But Luther is the first of us to bring up the matter. “So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?” He says.

Five's head stays unmoved from his cutting board, pulling out two slices of bread and a knife. I could tell what he was starting to make now from Vanya’s earlier statements. We all stare at him, but Klaus and I turn to give each other a look.

Luther stands up from his seat and slightly raises his voice so Five will hear him. “It’s been 17 years.”

But Five scoffs at him “It's been a lot longer than that.” Moving closer to the now-standing Luther. He blinks behind Luther to grab something. Standing on a step stool I might add.

“I hadn’t missed that.” Luther states. But I'd have to disagree since I always thought that Five had the coolest power of all of us.

‘Where’d you go?” I asked, head resting on my palm. I sat on the table right next to Klaus with my legs dangling off the right side during all of this and was getting a bit tired from today's mysteries.

“The future” Five blinks back to his original spot “It's shit, by the way.” He adds.

Klaus raises a finger to the sky, “called it!” He exclaims looking around at everyone’s not grinning faces.

“I should've listened to the old man.” Five says grabbing another item from our crappy outdated fridge. A sentence I never thought I'd hear him say. He quotes Reginald and says “You know, jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice.”

Five finally gives us his whole attention by scanning the crowd. “Nice dress.” He says to Klaus.

“Oh well, Danke!” Klaus cheers. I wish I knew what he was talking about.

“Wait- how did you get back?” Vanya cuts in, waving her hand in the air.

Five dips his knife into the peanut butter and gives her a blank look. “In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself. That exists across every possible instance of time.” I don’t think a single person in that room heard what he said.

“That makes no sense,” Diego calls out from his chair. Saying the one thing we were all thinking.

“Well, it would if you were smarter.” Five words made Deigo rise from his chair starting to lunge at the teen, but with one arm Luther stopped his whole body from moving. Five furrows his brows unbothered while still crafting his sandwich.

“How long were you there?” Luther asks calmly.

“Forty-five years. Give or take” and everyone sits back down, eyes wide at Five. All of our faces had a look of shock mixed with pity for him, all these years we had no idea where Five was. But instead of the answer being that he joined the circus or something, it is the sad idea that he was lost in time with no help. A little boy growing into a man and navigating a shitty future.

“Wait, hold on.” I blink awake from my thoughts. “So what are you saying? You're 58?”

Five somewhat grits his teeth and states matter of factly at me. “No, my consciousness is 58. Apparently, my body is now 13 again.” He puts the two pieces of bread together to finally create his peanut butter marshmallow sandwich. He walks around as he starts to eat it.

“Delores kept saying the equations were off.” He says. Okay confused once again, who’s Delores? And who names their kid that? “Bet she’s laughing now.”

“Delores?” Vanya questions but Five never gives her a response, just chews. He picks up a newspaper from one side of the table instead though, it states news about Reginald's death along with other such topics.

“Guess I missed the funeral.” He hums flipping through the pages.

“How’d you know about tha-?” Luther asks stupidly.

“What part of the future do you not understand?” I try to hide my smile from his words. He was the same old Five that I knew even all these years later. “Heart failure huh?” He asks the table.

Diego and Luther both say the opposite things at the same time, then snap their heads around to give each other a nasty look.

Five clicks his tongue. “Nice to see nothing has changed.” He puts the newspaper down and leaves all of us in the kitchen as he walks away.

Alison turns and calls out to him giving us her first input of the discussion “Uh, that's it? That’s all you have to say?” As she flails her arms.

Five stops by the archway into the kitchen. “What else is there to say? Circle of life.” And he leaves, by the way, I could hear his little dress shoes clamping down the hall. I say he went to his room.

None of us say anything but just stare at each other. This day was going to be very interesting for all of us.

..

I wasn't sure what to do next, now that Five was here the service for Reginald was about to begin. So I headed to my childhood room, just to take one final look at it again.

The first thing that I remember was how creaky the floorboards were as I walked upstairs. When we all used to sneak out of the house it was really difficult to pick a way to go without someone hearing us. We used to go to all kinds of places as a group like Griddy's doughnuts or some park to play on the playground. Just a way for all of us to escape the daily tortures.

I walked past Luther's room to mine at the end of the hallway. I would’ve never put this together as a kid but now I see the rooms were put in that order by our numbers, me being zero I was first.

Although, as a kid, I was never really treated as first in anything. That was Luther. I was more like a spare child. Someone they needed but never thought of first. I would’ve preferred being number 8.

My room was tiny, but I tried to pack it with lots of personality. I'd model it after the rest of everyone’s rooms since I was the last one to get mine. I remember the process of getting my room.

I'd just walked into the building with nothing but a brown stuffed animal bear with a small pink bow and my blue dress on. He was my world but he didn't have a name until I grew older. I named him Benny, after my actual world and best friend.

“Number Zero, I will show you to your room now,” Pogo said to me, trying to be as gentle as possible. I was very fragile at that stage, as anyone would be if they were dragged here kicking and screaming. The whole house was truly terrifying to the younger me, barely standing at 4 ‘10. I thought the academy was going to swallow me whole.

Without protest I let Pogo hold my hand and bring me upstairs. My room at that time had nothing in it but a bed and a window. It looked freshly constructed like it wasn't a room before my arrival. Like it was planned just for me, which I guess it was.

I was left alone with my thoughts for like an hour before I first met Grace who’d asked me if I wanted to make cookies with her, for me and the other children to enjoy. And I liked her instantly, she was the first person to make me smile. But I didn't see any of the other children for two days and I still to this day don’t know where they went.

But now my room was fully decorated with a desk where I’d work on new sketches or write in my journal. My hobbies were always drawing and painting.

Above my brown desk was a mirror where I'd get ready every morning and a bunch of vines that hung down from a shelf. That shelf was stacked with books that I've probably read one hundred times over by 17.

What made me really happy was seeing Benny, still on my cream-colored sheets all these years later. Even though I'm sure I tucked him away somewhere before I left. I should’ve taken him with me.

I held him to my chest with my back turned towards my door for a bit. Taking in all the scents of my room, Benny smelled like rose petals courtesy to Mom who washed him every time I spilled something on him with rose detergent. I closed my eyes and he was immediately taken out of my hands by someone who came up close behind me.

“Klaus, give him back.” I frowned. I knew it was Klaus even if he was trying to be sneaky. His heart was loud and his steps were still heavy, and if that wasn't enough the smell of alcohol could give it away.

“Aw man, how’d you know it was me.” He sighed, handing me Benny back.

I giggled, turning his way “I always know it’s you, you're the only one who comes in here.” Which wasn’t a lie.

“Mhm sure..” he said, taking a step further inside to look around. “This place looks the same!”

He pointed to my beanbag in a corner and said. “This is where we'd do drugs as kids awww!” He gushed. After a second we both started laughing hysterically no way I forgot what we did in here. Yes, I did try weed in here once when I was 16 or 15, I caught Klaus with it and told him to stay safe with it. And then before I knew it he’d started sharing his cigarette with me.

“How’d I forget about that?” I asked him.

He grinned. “You were probably too stoned to remember anything. Sweet Y/n had a rebellious side to her. But that wasn't the only thing we did you know? All those times we snuck out to get more was the fun part.”

“I definitely haven’t done any since.” I shake my head before pausing. “Or maybe I just don’t remember.” I joked.

He sat down on my bed and I sat with him. “You wanna do some more?” He asked with a childish look.

“No way” I replied to him, dropping Benny on the bed to make an X with my arms. “My rebel ways are over.”

He pouted and looked down at my fluffy bear. “Who’s this?” He exclaimed. I forgot that everyone didn't know about my bear minus Grace and Pogo. I was too embarrassed to let the fellow 12-year-olds know that I still slept with a teddy.

“Uhm, he’s mine,” I say scratching my hand. But I'm sure he already knew that part.

Klaus folds his hands into his lap and kicks his shoes off. Getting fully immersed in the story I was about to start. “Do go on.” He asks.

“I've had him since I was a baby.” I started but Klaus shifted a little in his seat knowing that my home before here was a little taboo. “He’s very special to me and up till recently he didn't have a name. But now his name is Benny.” As soon as I say that his head shoots up to stare at a corner of my room. “Klaus?” I try to get his attention. It was a bit spooky though since no one was there.

He suddenly turns back and engulfs me in a hug. I knew he knew what I meant by the name choice, the three of us were super close. I named him after the only one of us whose life was robbed from him too soon, Ben who was Number six.

“I still sometimes blame myself.” I let fly out of my mouth. “Just the fact that I couldn’t save him, and that's literally all that I do.”

Klaus hugs tighter before letting out a sad sound. “He doesn’t want you to think that Y/n, not at all.”

I pulled away confused. “I'm sorry, you said he doesn’t?”

Klaus stutters. “D- Did I say he doesn’t? I mean he wouldn't! Of course, no one would want you to think that especially when it was something you couldn’t control.”

I frowned anyway trying to dig these thoughts into the back of my mind. He grabbed my hand and pulled me away from my comfy bed and Benny. Ushering me out of my room.

“One death is enough to think about, let’s send off Daddy dearest and get out of here.” He snickers “You wanna get a sandwich with me later? I'm afraid I'm out of cash though.” Klaus looked through his pockets like it would just magically appear.

My frown turns into a grin. “Don’t worry sandwiches are on me.”

Klaus almost leaps in the air with excitement, “See this is why you're my favorite.”

..

By the time we got downstairs, everyone had gathered around the longue once again. This time getting ready for the end of this crazy day, the ceremony. It had started raining so I told Klaus to get an umbrella for himself. He picked up a small pink frilly thing that belonged to one of us when we were kids and walked outside. I grabbed a blue one with a black handle.

The heavy rain fully affected all of our moods instantly, everyone turned somber and cold. We stood in a circle in the courtyard, where we'd been for Five's return earlier. Except two of us didn't have umbrellas, Luther and Diego who wanted to be different I guess.

My eyes met with Ben's statue and I was suddenly glad for the rain because it would mask any teardrops that would’ve fallen. Being too close to bad memories and being even closer to new ones is about to form now.

“Did something happen?” Grace asks innocently. It was almost like she had no idea what happened at all. But I thought since she was a robot she would have to remember all these key moments.

“Dad died. Remember?” Allison gives her a strange look.

“Oh. Yes, of course.” Grace looks down at her feet.

We all gave her a confused glance and Alison asked a question. “Is Mom okay?” She said to no one in particular.

But Diego was the one to respond since he was right next to her. “Yeah, yeah, she’s fine. She just needs to rest. You know, recharge.” Which didn't sound very convincing at all.

We all waited for one last person, Pogo, to come into our circle so we could move on. Or at least so I can move on.

“Whenever you’re ready, dear boy.” Pogo nods to Luther as he joins us. Luther was standing in the middle holding Reginald’s remains in a black urn. He stumbles around a bit before opening it up. And pouring it onto the mud floor. It mimicked the way that sand would fall in someone’s hand when picked up,

Klaus, cigarette in hand, grits his teeth at the unsatisfactory delivery right next to me. And Luther looks up to see all of us staring at him, thinking the same thing.

“Probably would have been better with some wind.” Luther thinks out loud.

“Does anyone wish to speak?” Asked by Pogo who looks around at us, we all avoid his gaze. I'd speak if everything that would’ve come out of my mouth wasn't swear words.

“Very well.” Pogo clears his throat. “In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master.. and my friend, and I shall miss him very much.” I sympathized with Pogo and his words. But I could never call Reginald any of those things myself. He made me hurt, he made us suffer and I will never forgive him.

Pogo carries on. “He leaves behind a complicated legacy—“

“He was a monster,” Diego speaks out.

Klaus laughs and everyone looks surprised by his words, even though they secretly thought the same. “He was a bad person and a worse father. The world is better off without him.” He states.

“Diego” Alison tries to stand in.

“My name is Number Two. You know why? Because our father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names, he had Mom do it.”

Like a switch was turned on Grace replies with an enthusiastic “Would anyone like something to eat?” She says.

“No, it's okay mom.” Vanya says.

“Oh, okay.” She replied, her strange enthusiasm never leaving her tone.

Diego starts to rant to us. “Look, you wanna pay your respects? Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was.”

Luther looks at him angrily, “You should stop talking now.”

Diego stops looking at us to stare down Luther once again. “You know, you of all people should be on my side here, Number One.”

“I'm warning you.”

Five turned to me and Klaus to see what we thought of their bickering. We got ready for something that was about to go down.

“After everything he did to you? He had to ship you a million miles away.”

“Diego, stop talking.” Luther bears his teeth when Diego moves almost uncomfortably close to him.

“That’s how much he couldn’t stand the sight of you!” Diego yells pointing his fingers to Luther's chest. I knew that would set him off. And it did because Luther swung at him which he gracefully avoided. And the two started to fight.

I looked at Klaus again, my eyes asking if we should get involved. But that never turned out well in any of their other fights. And as expected Klaus shook his head and mouthed no to me.

They kept punching at each other for a crazy amount of time. Both being well trained in fighting they were able to not get him by the other. Pogo yells trying to get their attention. “Boys, stop this at once!” He tries to persuade.

Klaus moves both me and Five out of the way like we were in any length close enough to get harmed anyway. Five slaps his arm out of the way.

Luther finally lands a hit on Diego causing him to lose his footing and slide back a sizable amount of feet. “Come on, big boy!” He screams. Luther goes in for another punch but Diego gets the upper hand and starts to pound his tiny fist in comparison to Luther's huge body again and again.

“Knock it off,” I called out, I thought it was almost like my job to say something. Even though the number system was not in place and we were our own people now it still felt like my place to break off their fights.

But as if I'm the angel on their shoulders the devil right next to me named Klaus yells for them to keep going. The sounds of their punches get louder as they descend into madness. Pogo sighs and walks off, realizing it’s hopeless to try and stop them.

Luther hurdles Diego onto the ground almost at the feet of Ben's statue.

“Oh no..” The words I said were felt by all the people around me. We all started to move in getting more weary of them doing something bad.

Diego jabs at Luther but his fist is caught by the bigger fist. He then holds Diego out like a child who's being naughty as Diego yells at him to let go. He breaks free and goes for another punch, this time it lands and you can hear the sound of either Luther's jaw breaking or Diego’s hand breaking on impact. I think it's the second. They both pant as Diego steps in front of Ben's statue.

Five gets fed up with all the fighting. “We don’t have time for this.” He says before storming off back into the house. Leaving me and Klaus to watch the fight with different expressions.

“Come here, big boy.” Diego antagonizes while standing in front of his brother's statue.

Luther runs up and takes a swing at him.

“Stop it!” My shaky voice screams. They were getting too close to him..

Diego dodges Luther’s hit and he falls over his fist going straight through Ben's statue. Making him crash onto the floor and his head comes right off. Luther stops.

I fight the urge to scream out as he falls down. The statue dedicated to Ben had been destroyed right in front of my eyes. Due to his sibling's stupid argument over something so small compared to Ben's big impact on the Umbrella Academy. On me.

Klaus lets out a sigh but doesn't look to me to see. By his tone he didn't think this was as important as it was to me. This was one of the last things of Ben I had.

“And there goes Ben’s statue..” Alison points out the obvious. No way that was it, there had to be a way of fixing it. It had to go back up. She walks away as I leave Klaus’s side to step to Luther.

Thinking the fight was over, I was steaming with anger about to cursing the hell out of him.

“Deigo no!” Shouts Vanya and I should've turned around.

His knife hits me in the back of my arm cutting right through my sweater and my skin. Right before hitting Luther’s arm as well. Diego’s once smug face is wiped clean at the realization. I thought all his knives had perfect accuracy but maybe it was the fact that he was tired after fighting or maybe since he still hit his target he thought it was whatever.

I know my arm will heal but it still hurts like a bitch. Since his knives were made for injuring. Luther gasped, grabbing onto his wounded arm. I was still so angry at him for what he just did but I still wanted to heal him. I take a step closer reaching my palm out but he runs past me and back into the house. His big steps filled my ears.

I turned to Diego and he knew what was coming for him “You never know when to stop, do you?” I point at Ben’s statue. “Now look at what you did.” Before I could let my full feelings out, I knew I needed to get out of there. So I gave one final look at Ben’s once again dead body and walked away. My arm radiates a yellow glow as the slice heals.

I left Vanya, Klaus and Grace there with Diego.

..

Vanya gives Diego a hurt look as she also turns to leave, but not before he lets out his last snide comment of the afternoon.

“You got enough material for your sequel yet?” He bows his head down to get into her face.

She looks at him before saying. “He was my father, too.” Then leaves. It wasn't clear if he truly took in her words.

Diego walks over to his Mom. “Mom, let's go inside.” She seems reluctant. “Come on. Okay? Come on.” They both walk inside of the house.

Klaus sat on a bench in the pouring rain as they left. His legs crossed and deep in thought. He puts his cigarette back into his mouth and walks over to his Dad’s remaining ashes.

“I bet you're loving this. Hmm?” He says to the ashes. “The team at its best. It’s just like old times.” Before letting his cigarette die out into the “ashtray” of his father’s remains.

“Best funeral ever!”

…

Aug 14 update:

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!

[beanpodz]

This is pointless but here’s what I would have done for each member of the umbrella academy during season 4:

1. Luther would still be a dancer in this for me but he wouldn’t live at the academy. He’d live with an elderly old man that he helps to take care of in exchange for a room. I want Luther obsessing over a father figure in every season. Sue me. His room would be full of abandoned hobbies (think knitting needles, a guitar with a broken string, a bookshelf filled with *blank* for dummies books). He’d have spent the last few years trying to discover who he is. Besides all of his hobbies he’d have a whole section of his wall dedicated to finding Sloane. If we couldn’t get the actress maybe we have a quick photo of her married to someone else or have that be discovered in the plot. I don’t necessarily think Luther has to have a happy ending with Sloane but he could have it in terms of getting over his daddy issues and discovering who he is as a person. He puts a lot of effort into his family (especially sparrow Ben) through out the season but he able to become a figure outside of his family this season.

2. Diego’s whole deal before this point is vengeance and vigilantism. The life of a UPS worker is so far removed from this but I’d keep it. I’d really want to highlight that this is something Diego does because he thinks this is what he has to do to be a family man. I’d also spend a lot more time this season on his family. Like him cooking breakfast or something while Lila (who I’ll come back to) is dealing with the twins while looking ready to pull her hair out. Lila’s parents would also have a lot more to do to. Maybe they nitpick Diego or maybe Diego isn’t sure how to behave around his new family that actually seems to be healthy. I’d also keep his lil dad gut but I wouldn’t make it a point of humor. It’d just be a thing to highlight the image of the dad he is. His storyline this season would deal with him wanting to be something (a father, a husband) while not really knowing how to do this and still having dreams of his previous life of excitement and action. Also would show drama with Lila and him navigating their new lives and maybe not in the healthiest way at first.

3. Allison would still be attempting to be an actress. But she would be hyper vigilant of Claire. She fought so hard and betrayed her whole family to get back to her. She might even be overbearing. Her emotional arc this season would have a lot to do with learning to allow Claire to become her own person. I also would have included Ray because he would NEVER just walk out but if we can’t get the actor I think maybe I would have killed him off (I’m sorry). Maybe the realization that her new timeline is not perfect helps to enforce the idea into her that Claire is not invulnerable. We’d also spend a lot more time talking about this. Ray would have a picture on her bedside table and maybe her and Luther could have some closure by talking about their loved ones. She would also have to work a lot harder to gain acceptance from her family.

4. Klaus’s would NOT get his powers back so early in the season. We would also not have any of his plot from the real season beyond the fact that he is now a hypochondriac. I really liked that detail. I liked Uncle Klaus loving Claire to death and them both learning to enter the big scary world would be a staple in his season 4 arc. Klaus would definitely talk about Dave more too. He’s so afraid of losing others because of his loss of Dave but he still has these worries about his own death. This could be his big moment this season. Him having to accept his powers, despite his sobriety and fear, in order to save his family in some way. The choice should be his. It would be his ultimate sacrifice and it would finish off his arc in a more satisfying way that doesn’t leave him as someone incapable of saving himself or others. We could also get his ghost army and levitation. As a treat.

5. I would have kept Five as a teenager. He’d be 17 at most and having to live with one of the other siblings (I’m leaning towards Luther). He’s ‘homeschooled’ at this point and spends his time trying to find inaccuracies in the timeline that could suggest another end of days. He’s obsessed with the apocalypse and a safe world can never feel safe for him. Lila still does not like or trust Five because of what he did to her parents in the OG timeline. But because he and Lila are still searching for danger (for different reasons) they end up attending the Keeper meetings together. The whole subway things happens but NOT the romance or the choosing to stay. Instead they both go through the timelines trying to solve the end of the world and we spend like 2 whole episodes on this. They see the apocalypse again. Five gets soft over Delores. Lila sees what Five went through to get back to his family. To save Diego. They eventually learn to see each other as family. And they’re only gone for a year before they both find the Five Deli. They’re dirty, injured, and have just spent the last year trying to get back and save they’re family. They do NOT accept the other five telling them to just die and give up. Maybe Five contemplates but now that Lila and Five are bonded and besties (please I just want friendship from them) she is able to convince to try ‘one more time old timer’. They get an exit found by another five and find a way to save the world (need more thought on how). Also after the world ends and Five no longer has a purpose like before, he finds a new one in his family and this adorable ( absolutely ugly) little dog that was eating trash in an alley.

6. Ben would still have been a crypto scammer because I love that. It’s sparrow Ben so there is still a huge disconnect from him and the rest of the family. I don’t think he gets a romance with Jennifer but he meets her. And it’s learned that Jennifer is not of this timeline but was in a squid that came from another one. I’m thinking the squid is what lives inside Ben and it’s escape is what killed him ( not the dumb as hell thing that really happened). The squid eats Jennifer as she is a hostage in whatever situation (mission by the beach idk) but she is one of the other 43 kids. She has powers similar to Viktor in the way that they are world destroying. The fact that she from another timeline is what gives her extra interest to Jean and Gene. Ben begins to gets realize he’s not exactly a great person compared to Umbrella Ben but begins to bond with them over the course of the season. Also the jar isn’t given to the umbrella academy by David Cross (already forgot his characters name) but instead found by Jean and Gene in the opening scene. They intend to give it to Jennifer once they get to her but instead are intercepted by five and Lila. Maybe they give it to Jennifer at a meeting as a ritual and Five steals it and takes it to the family. Now Jean and Gene are after them and they know Jennifer is gonna end the world. Plot with lots of moments for cool fight scenes and music numbers.

7. Viktor could be living Canada still. He still feels so isolated from the family that he struggles to be around them. I like the joke of him being someone incapable of maintaining a relationship but we know he could do it with Sissy so I would instead have him have a rocky relationship with a girl who maybe also isn’t in the healthiest spot. Since Viktor doesn’t get kidnapped in this version, his trouble involves introducing the new girl to his family and not knowing how to navigate these two worlds that have always been separate in his life. He gets to play violin still too because that was such a big thing in the comics and the violin is something that he learns to harness his powers with once they get their powers back. For what seems like the first time, Viktor isn’t ending the world but saving it. And he is fighting with his family as a powerful unit. Think early scene in s2 where they all realize their full potential.

8. Lila is struggling with her new life. She has a family, her parents, and a calm life. It was supposed to be a life only meant for her dreams but she finds it dull. Diego is showing off a facade of being happy in this life so she doesn’t want to talk about how it’s affecting her. She forms a tentative truce with five when she gets a dose of excitement by involving herself with the keepers. When she realizes she is once again in an apocalypse situation she has conflicting feelings about what this means for her and her family. She wholeheartedly joins five on the subway adventure not realizing how long it would be before she could see her family again. She bonds with Five and they both commiserate about loving their family so much but not knowing if they will ever have the ability to be happy. Her arc revolves around finding equilibrium between her two worlds and saving the world with Five. Someone she now sees as family and who she knows would do anything to save her because she’s family. She and Diego would talk and learn they both have issues with their new lives but they are dedicated to helping each other find what the other needs to at least be content. She also doesn’t ever cheat on Diego and the little Greek guy comment makes her laugh so hard she almost pees.

[esvvel]

one year, two months and four days

Lila

It feels like I'm going crazy. The platforms are blurring into each other in my mind, I can't remember how many of them I've seen already, I can't navigate my memories anymore. Five is still trying to rely on the map, but I don't think it makes any sense since we've been coming back to the same stations over and over again a few times; or maybe they were different and I just didn't notice… I found this weird (as if anything in this shithole could be normal) old-fashioned radio. It only gets one station with only one song playing 24/7 and it only works if you hang it right under the ceiling. But it is the best thing in this purgatory. It plays music, FUCKING REAL MUSIC. If Five is right, it's been at least a year since we got lost. And since then, it is the first time I can listen to something other than his boring lectures on the art of apocalypse survival or the subway announcements delivered by that hellish robotic voice in an encrypted language; sometimes I'm not sure which pisses me off more.

one year, two months and five days

Lila

Spent the whole night listening to this song, it made me think of Gracie and the twins. Looked like even this old man was glad to find something that reminded him of a real, normal life. We had to move on and leave the radio behind. If we see it again we'll realize we are going in circles, and anyway I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t work in any other timeline. We danced. Like that time at Luther’s wedding. Didn’t expect Five to be able to do that sober actually, which makes me think I’m not the only one going bananas here. I don’t know why I did it, why I keep pretending that things aren’t as bad as they are. I know Five’s right, fuck he’s right most of the time. But I can’t just admit that we’re stuck, that we’re completely lost, that I’ve come a lot further than I thought, that it’s all my fault. He’s never directly blamed me for any of it, but we both know the truth. And I can feel that we’re almost home, we’re so close.

It has to be that way.

okay there are a lot of words 😭 i've never written anything like this before so i hope this isn't too bad lol, i just wanted to give these sketches more context and yes they are highly inspired by harry and hermione's dance scene in deathly hallows (i love that scene so much). you can think of it as Lila's internal monologue or maybe she has some kind of journal(?) where she writes her thoughts while being in the subway to keep track of events. i have a LOT of headcanons and ideas for more fivelila sketches like this so maybe i'll make a series out of this if you're interested!!

[hollybell51]

If I don't have you

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Ethan Hunt x AFAB!Reader

Mission Impossible (around MI3)

Word count: 6.6K

Summary: your mind won't let go of a close call, or all the things that remain unsaid between you and Ethan.

Content: gratuitous smut, angst, light blood/wounds (canon typical), swearing, angst with a happy ending, some mildly dubious moments (ie., sneaking into people's beds), but there's explicit consent so dw about that. Friends to lovers, first kisses (like between people), oral (f receiving), handjobs, making out, missionary, unprotected sex, bit of dirty talk, sappy love confessions (I'm a sap myself, give me a break). I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything.

Notes: hey guys I'm back with another terrible title and porn nobody asked for! I've recently been consumed by Mission Impossible and was devastated by the lack of Ethan Hunt content, and I may or may not be starting down the Tom Cruise rabbit hole, so I did the natural thing and wrote some good old smut. This man makes me absolutely feral in every film (sixty fucking one and he's still got it! What the fuck!) but the long hair really gets me (you all know this already) so I chose to go with somewhere around the MI3 mark. I'm also somehow convinced that he just gets hotter with each film but that's another issue.

Mandatory disclaimer, I don't really care what Tom Cruise does in his own free time with his money and energy but I personally don't fuck with scientology, so yeah. Anyways, enjoy!

The door to the hotel room banged shut behind you, loud and sudden in the cool stillness of the evening. Your face felt hot, and not just because of the heat outside or the fact that you’d just effectively undertaken a high-speed parkour course, blood rushing in your ears, heart pounding. 

“What the hell, Ethan?” you hissed as you spun to face him, jerking your arm out of his grip. 

He ignored you, stepping closer in the narrow entryway. “Are you hurt?” 

Were you hurt? God, it never failed to amaze you just how little regard this man had for his own safety. First he’d quite literally jumped off the roof of a building (albeit a low building, and he’d slid down the tented roof of one of the market stalls first), then raced head-first into what had nearly ended up an all-out fire fight, despite you and Luther both yelling across the comms at him to stop, go around and cut them off! Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t listened. 

“That was fucking insane!” you burst. 

“Are you ok?” 

You were being pursued, first at a walk and then a run. Ethan had seen, you’d told him and Luther both over the comms, and had been receiving directions from the latter. But there were three men chasing you – working for the man you were stalking, most likely, although you weren’t sure – and the streets were unfamiliar, the heat of the evening oppressive, the crush of bodies at the market stifling and the air dusty and thick. You knew, even as your feet pounded on the uneven ground, that you were not going to outlast these men – locals, larger and more numerous than you. 

“You’re fucking insane, you know that?” 

Ethan had barrelled into you from the side just as the first gunshot had gone off, rolling with a grunt and a curse over some poor stallholder’s display and behind a wall of crates. The rush of relief his presence unfailingly conjured was short-lived as he dragged you to your feet, a quick “alright?” and that goddamn movie-star grin before he was pushing you out from behind the makeshift shelter and back into the crowd. You hadn’t even noticed the substantial tear in his shirt or the rough hatching of a graze high on his cheek until you’d been leaning against a wall, panting and a little shaky, but alive and free of your pursuers. 

You’d almost ripped him a (another) new one then and there, but then he’d shaken his head at you and held up his hand, panting, “let’s just get back,” before you could even open your mouth. So you’d held your tongue. Until you’d gotten back. 

Now, both his hands were on your shoulders, firm and warm, holding you still. “(Y/N),” he was saying, his eyes searching your face. “Are you hurt?” 

“No,” you sighed after a moment, half tempted to jerk out of his grasp again. You didn’t. “I’m fine. Are you?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He nodded, his hands sliding down to grip your arms. The graze wasn’t too bad up close, but as your eyes flicked to the cut on his arm, your anger reared its head again. God, if that had been twenty centimetres to the right…

“No you’re fuckin not,” you said, breathing deeply. It was late, and you didn’t want to disturb anyone more than you already had. “Let me see that.” 

His hands dropped from you altogether, and he stepped back. “It’s fine, (Y/N), just a graze.” 

“A bullet graze!” 

“It’s fine.” 

You shook your head, closing what little distance had opened up between you to point your finger into his chest. “Don’t ever pull shit like that again.” 

“No promises,” he shrugged.

Jesus fucking Christ! You had half a mind to grab his gun off him and finish the job right there, see how fine he’d be with his brains blown onto the wall behind him. Even then he’d brush it off as a bruise, maybe a light concussion. You swallowed. “Ethan, you could have been killed !” 

“But I wasn’t. All that matters is that you’re alright.” He’d taken your hand, folding your accusing finger back towards your palm gently – so gently it made your heart ache – and enclosing your fist in his much larger one. Your stupid, traitorous stomach did a flip to rival his acrobatics. 

“No,” you gritted, “that’s not all that matters! You fucking–” matter. You matter to me. You pressed your lips firmly together, the words boiling in the back of your throat, spiralling into a hard, painful lump. You matter, Ethan, more than any fucking mission. None of it would mean shit if you didn’t make it, if I didn’t have you. You matter and I fucking love you, you idiot!

He was looking at you oddly, you realised, the silence hanging between you so thickly you’d need a damn chainsaw to cut it. His hand still cradled yours, but as you watched, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly and the ready-for-anything gleam you were so painfully familiar with faded from his eyes. 

You both turned as someone – Luther – cleared his throat, a sharp silhouette against the glow of twilight through the window behind him. 

“Are you alright?” your friend asked, looking between the two of you. 

“Yeah,” you huffed, pulling back and running both your now-free hands through your hair. 

“Ethan?” 

“Yeah.” 

Another silence, though less tense. 

“Taking a shower,” you muttered, feeling your own body slouch as the adrenaline drained from you. You were sweaty, hot, dusty, shaky and too strung out for any more of this shit. Nobody stopped you as you trudged past first Ethan, then Luther, down the narrow hallway and into the small hotel bathroom. You thought you could hear Luther’s rumbling voice over the stream of shower water, Ethan’s higher-pitched response, but couldn’t make out any words. Maybe that was for the better.

In your dream, Ethan wasn’t fine. In your dream, he hadn’t moved as fast and wasn’t stumbling to his feet, pulling you with him. In your dream, he went down and stayed down, breath coming fast and short, and instead of a rip in his sleeve there was a dark stain spreading over his chest. 

“Ethan?” you said, watching yourself scramble across the rough dirt of the street to his side, your hands flitting uselessly over his torso. 

He cursed, taking your hand as he had so many times before, big and warm and more comforting than it had any right to be. “You alright?” he asked, teeth gritted. 

“Yeah, fine. Fuck, Ethan hold on–” 

“No, (Y/N)–” 

“Hold on , dammit!” It was amazing how viscerally you could feel the pain, sharp and hot like a gunshot wound of your own. You fumbled at your pockets with one hand, pressing down on his chest with the other, but your phone was nowhere to be found. When you shouted for an ambulance or help or anything at all, nobody was listening. The market bustled on around you, the people no more real than shadows on a wall. 

Ethan was saying your name again, his blood hot and wet against your palm. Too much, too much too fast. 

“All that matters is that you’re alright,” he was telling you, and half your mind was seeing him as he had been in the hallway – serious, sweaty, patch of pink skin over his cheekbone hatched with where the dirt had caught and cut it as he’d rolled. 

In your dream, you told the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth, words spilling from you in a sick waterfall. “You matter, Ethan. You matter to me, I love you, do you know how much you matter to me?” 

You’d seen people die before. It was part and parcel of your job, so you knew what it looked like. This was no different. Ethan’s eyes were hazy, unfocussed, and he was too pale. There was a light sheen of sweat beading his face and neck. His chest was soaked with his blood and your hands were slick with it. His fingers were loosening around your own. 

“Ethan?” you asked, your own grip slackening as his head lolled. “Ethan, come on, just hold on–” 

No one’s coming. 

“Hold on, Ethan. Don’t go. Don’t go, I can’t do this without you.” 

He wasn’t looking at you anymore. 

“Please, just– listen to me. You don’t know. You have no idea how much you matter to me, how much I need you. Ethan, come on, I love you!” 

In your dream, Ethan was dead and you woke shivering despite the warmth of the room. You lay stock-still, counting to ten again and again until your breathing finally slowed and your heart rate returned to normal. You wriggled down under the sheet you’d draped over yourself, curling inwards and wishing for something more substantial than the loose t-shirt – once Ethan’s – and your underwear. 

You’d watched Ethan die a thousand times, in a thousand different ways. Nobody would ever torture it out of you, but these – when he didn’t know, when it was too late before you told him – were the worst. It left you with a sick feeling in your gut, a hollow emptiness in your chest where your heart and lungs should have been, and limbs so heavy you were always surprised you managed to get up the next morning. And, of course, the inevitable wave of loathing at how fucking pathetic you were dreaming about telling your partner – friend , probably your best friend, because you were long past being coworkers – that you loved him. 

You sighed, turning over. It was close to the full moon, the open window casting a rectangle of silver over the lump that was your legs, the light breeze moving the curtains gently. You could get up and close it. You should. 

You’d been too pissed off and tired after your shower to do much more than grunt thanks to Luther when he handed you a cold doner kebab, eat it, then fall onto your bed and close your eyes. Usually, you’d have forced Ethan to take a shower too, waited until he emerged in fresh clothes and smelling like cheap soap, hair damp and curling around his ears, and patted the spot on the couch or bed or floor beside you. He’d always roll his eyes but sit anyway, and he’d stay sitting as you cleaned and dressed – sometimes stitched – whatever injuries he’d acquired with only minimal complaining. He’d give you the same treatment afterwards. 

You hadn’t done any of that before, and now you missed the little ritual. You’d been mentally cataloguing the first aid kit for antiseptic cream, bandages, wound pads, suture needles and sterile thread as soon as it had even clocked in your mind that he had more than just the graze to his cheek, the uncomfortable weight of your dream growing heavier with the realisation that you’d left it all to him. And Luther, you supposed. 

It was such a little thing, but in the moment it seemed to loom over you, blocking out the moon’s rectangle. 

You sighed again, your feet hitting the floor before you’d even fully realised that you were getting up. 2.28 AM glowed sickly green from the digital clock on the nightstand. Maybe if you hadn’t had that specific dream, you thought, you would have given this more consideration. Turned over and closed your eyes, decided to wait until morning proper, dismissed your guilt and concern as remnants of a stressful evening. But you had had that dream, and now that you’d eased the door open and were slipping down the hallway towards the room Ethan occupied, there was no way you could have turned back. 

His door was ajar, and didn’t squeal or protest when you eased it open. The set-up, like most hotel bedrooms, was exactly the same as your own. Cupboard on one wall (open, with a duffle bag resting half in and half out of it), dresser next to the door (two guns and a few spare magazines next to them), and a double bed by the window. The orientation of the room meant that the moonlight fell on the floor instead of the bed, but you could still clearly make out Ethan’s prone form, sheet wrinkled and twisted under him, one arm dangling over the side of the mattress, a few strands of hair over his face fluttering with each breath. 

You’d seen him asleep before, of course you had. There hadn’t always been hotel rooms with two bedrooms and a pull-out couch to rotate through, nice as that was. There hadn’t even always been separate beds or mattresses – or any at all. Sometimes you ended up side by side in a queen that was supposed to be two singles, slumped on top of him in the back of a van or on a rooftop, curled against his back in a sleeping bag that was only really meant for one person. You didn’t mind, not really, but seeing him like that – totally relaxed, peaceful – tugged at something deep inside you. 

You hesitated, one hand on the doorframe, shivering once more in the breeze from his open window. The curtains billowed inwards, floated suspended for a moment, then receded back to brush at the thick sill. The bed rustled as Ethan turned over, and you froze. He’d said something, you thought he’d said something that sounded like your name. Then he did it again, and you were sure. 

“(Y/N).” 

You crossed the room silently, kneeling then lying smoothly on the bed and against his back like you were made to fit there. He hummed softly as your arm slid over his ribs, your fingers splayed over his heart. Still beating, strong and even and alive. 

He sighed, shifting ever so slightly back towards you, his own hand finding yours, larger fingers lacing with your own. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. The dressing on his arm where the bullet had clipped him seemed to glow, taunting you. He did this himself, it said. You left, he almost took a fucking bullet for you and you didn’t even fix it for him .

The slow expansion and contraction of his torso paused for a moment. Neither of you were heavy sleepers, your job had seen to that. “(Y/N)?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What’re you sorry for?” he asked, voice thick with sleep. 

Everything. “Yelling at you. I just…” You paused, no longer cold in the shadow of your dream, but still aware of its presence. “I don’t wanna see you get hurt.” 

There was a beat of silence, then he was turning over again to face you, his hand slipping from your own to run up over your forearm, your elbow, your upper arm, catching momentarily on the sleeve of your shirt before coming to rest on your shoulder. “You’re here,” he whispered. “Thought I was dreaming…” 

You smiled, reaching out to run your fingers around the neck of his wifebeater singlet. Even just waking up, he looked good in the damn thing. “You were.” 

He frowned, the patch of rough red hashing standing out in the silvery dimness. Up this close, you could see every minute crease between his brows that hadn’t been there a minute ago, every tiny line of tension around his eyes. “What’re you doing here?” he asked. 

 You shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. I felt bad.” I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t help you and I couldn’t tell you, and you still don’t know. 

“For yelling at me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t wanna see you get hurt, either. That’s–” 

“All that matters. You said.” 

You were at a crossroads. You felt it as if someone had infused your every cell with the knowledge that you had two options, and you could only take one, and it would change things. How, you weren’t sure, but the sticky warmth of Ethan’s blood between your fingers and the rough dirt digging into your knees still made your skin tingle. 

“You’re wrong,” you continued. “That’s not all that matters.” 

The frown deepened. “Hm?” 

“You matter, Ethan. To me. If I don’t have you…” You shrugged, once again counting your breaths. How was it that you were more highly strung now than you had been while you were quite literally being chased through a market and shot at? It was so far away now, a distant memory of someone else. This, here, the gap barely wider than ten centimetres between your face and Ethan’s, the warm air and the pale moonlight, the warmer weight of his hand still on your shoulder… That was real. 

But bravery – a strange word, you realised, even as you had the thought – only went so far. “Don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” you finished lamely. 

He knew it wasn’t what you’d been going to say, that it barely went half way to getting across what you wanted to. But still, he just smiled and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You won’t ever have to find out.” 

Maybe you weren’t really awake. Maybe you’d wandered into his dream instead of his room, or maybe (and more likely) he’d found his way into yours. Maybe you really had turned over and gone back to sleep instead of padding down the hall and sliding in next to him, and this was your mind’s way of apologising to you for the earlier horror show. It must be, you reasoned, because somewhere you’d ended up pressed against his front – something that hadn’t happened before; you always found yourself curled around him from behind. Your skin felt like it was on fire as his hand slid across your collar, up your neck to rest on your cheek. 

The kiss, when it came, hardly registered as something new. After all, how many times had this played out in your mind? How many times had you wondered what it would be like to move those last few centimetres, lean across that last gap, shove the two of you over that line like he’d shoved you out of the way of that bullet. It was an extension of where you were right now, of where you’d been for the last however long, of where you’d somehow known you were eventually going to end up. 

He was as gentle with you as he’d always been, soft and so painfully careful. He held you like you might break, as if you were something precious and delicate, his hand warm where he cradled your face. You felt the last sticky residue of tension and fear drain from your body as you slid the hand that had been resting on his chest down, over his ribs, around his back, pressing between his shoulder blades. 

“Ethan,” you whispered as he pulled away, still close enough that you could feel his breath on your face. You weren’t shivering anymore. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he replied, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face. 

You smiled, every cell in your body tingling with warmth. “So’re you.” 

“Mm-mm,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Not like you. You have no idea how beautiful you are.” 

There wasn’t much your kiss-addled, Ethan-filled brain could say to that. You closed the gap once more, his mouth impossibly soft, the faint hint of his toothpaste clinging to his tongue when it slid against your own. Someone – you or him, you weren’t sure – made a tiny noise somewhere in the realm of a sigh as you shifted even closer to him, hooking your leg over his. 

He was almost on top of you now, leaning over you, suspended carefully on one arm. You’d been here before, pressed into the floor of wherever you were sparring, sweaty and determined to do whatever it took to gain the upper hand again. Secretly, though, you’d wondered what that would feel like like this, and now you wondered if he had, too. 

Just as you had all those other times, you pushed your hips up off the mattress and flipped him smoothly. He huffed as you straddled him, blinking up at you in surprise before a smile spread over his face and he sat up, kissing you once more, his hands settling on your hips. You were half aware of your body curving towards his as your hands tangled in his hair, the rapid deterioration of your kisses into something that probably wouldn’t fit the word under any stringent definition. 

“Can I?” he asked, fingers flitting around the hem of your shirt. 

You just nodded, pulling the garment over your head quicker than you ever had before and casting it aside. If Ethan recognised it, he didn’t say anything. 

“You too,” you whispered when he didn’t show any signs of copying you, pulling at the thin cotton of his own shirt. 

“Huh?” 

“Shirt, dummy,” you smiled. “It’s not fair if I’m the only one who’s naked.” 

“All’s fair in love and war.” 

Love. Your heart sped up at the word. This could be love. Or war, you supposed.

“I don’t think that’s what that means,” you said, wrinkling your nose. 

“Sure it is,” he shrugged. But his hands were at the hem of the stupid thing, and before you could say anything else he was easing it over his head – mindful of his arm – and tossing it to join yours. “Fair now?” 

“Yeah.” You’d seen him without a shirt before. Changing in the back of a van, bandaging a cracked rib or disinfecting a patch of tiny cuts where he’d rolled through broken glass (which happened far too frequently, in your opinion), passing him on his way out of the bathroom. Every time made your stomach flip over and your mind race, but you’d never been able to touch him like this before; run your hands down over his shoulders and arms, across his stomach, up again over his chest, around his ribcage, down the curve of his spine. 

He was in the same boat, you supposed, smiling as his hand slid appreciatively up your side, thumb skimming the soft underside of your breast. You moaned as he bent to kiss down the column of your throat, sucking at the flesh over your jugular and where your neck met your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin occasionally, tongue soothing the blossoming marks left behind. 

“Can I ask you something?” you sighed as he mouthed at the hollow of your collar bone. 

“Yeah.” 

“You said my name before. Were you dreaming about me?” 

Again, “Yeah.” 

You smiled. “What about me?” 

“That you were here.” He broke away from your skin, stretching to place a soft kiss on your lips. “And you were safe.” 

“Well I am.” There was more to it, you could feel it. 

“You are.” Another kiss, almost chaste in its brevity. 

“What else?” you asked. 

He paused, hesitant, then, “You had your legs around my neck.” 

Oh. Oh. 

“Fuck, Ethan,” you whispered. That image wasn’t a new one. The fact that he dreamed about you was news enough, but that… That sent a veritable deluge of heat and desire down through your body, pooling wetly between your thighs. You had to consciously stop yourself from grinding on him right then and there.  

You wouldn’t have been able to, anyway. He was pushing you backwards now, his kisses trailing down over your sternum, between your breasts – he paused here to mouth at one, kneading the other gently, making you moan again – and on to your stomach. He slowed when he reached the waistband of your underwear, kissing across the bridge between your hip bones, leaving you a belt of faint hickeys. 

“Can–” 

“Yes,” you answered.

He looked up at you from where he’d slid between your legs, one hand on your hip and the other pushing at your thigh. His hair hung over his forehead and almost into his eyes (you’d been trying to get him to let you trim it for weeks now), lips pink and kiss-swollen and so pretty. “Ok,” he smiled, pulling your underwear down over your legs shockingly easily, considering they were still wrapped around his waist. You cursed softly as he bent his head again, kissing the inside of your thigh. 

“Wondered what this’d be like,” he whispered, sucking at a spot beside it.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped, your hand sliding down to rest on his head, fingers carding through his hair. 

He hummed softly into your skin. “What you’d taste like.” 

You cursed again as he licked over the mark, fingers skirting where you wanted him most, your skin on fire with every kiss.

“What you’d sound like.”

You pressed your lips together firmly, stifling any sound as he slid a finger over your wetness. You raised your head, meeting his eyes directly. “Do you wanna find out?” 

“Yes,” he breathed. His breath hitched in his chest, and there was that perfect movie-star grin. “Fuck, yes.” 

You opened your mouth to say something to that, but before the words had formed in your mind Ethan was licking up your cunt and the only thing that came out of your mouth was an embarrassingly loud moan. You felt him smile, his own soft noise of pleasure muffled against your flesh as he licked again, then sucked determinedly at your clit. 

“Oh, fuck , Ethan–” you gasped, fingers tightening in his hair, legs locked around his shoulders. 

“Hm?” 

“That’s fucking– You’re– Holy shit that’s good.” 

Ethan just grinned again, his tongue flicking over you, one finger circling your entrance. A suggestion. “Is this alright?” 

You nodded frantically, pressing your lips together as he pushed it inside you. “Yes,” you whined as he licked you again, letting yourself fall back onto the mattress as the hand not gripping his hair twisted in the sheets. He groaned softly, the sound reverberating over you as he sucked your clit, his finger working your hole. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop–” you panted, practically grinding on his face. 

A soft hum, then he was adding a second finger, lapping up everything you were giving him as you squirmed , your breath coming in ragged gasps. You could feel the orgasm coming now, coiling in your stomach like a spring, hot and tight and Ethan was the one building it up. Every curl of his fingers, every brush of his tongue and lips, every little grunt or hum, and his free hand gripping your thigh like a vice. You hoped you’d have bruises. 

“Oh, oh, Ethan, oh my God–” 

Close, you were so damn close. You were aware of your hips jutting up against his face, and the tiny part of your brain that wasn’t consumed with pleasure and want might have felt bad. 

“I’m gonna– fuck – holy shit , Ethan– Ethan I’m gonna–” 

Then everything was crashing around you and you were crying his name, your legs spasming and your spine arching, electricity fizzing through you. Ethan continued fucking you with his hand, slower and gentler now, his mouth soft on your sensitive clit. Maybe it was gradual, maybe not, but eventually your body transitioned from roiling static to a gentle buzz and your grip on his hair slackened, your legs relaxing around his shoulders. 

He sat calmly between your legs, licking his fingers. The entire lower half of his face shone silver in the moonlight with your slick, his lips pink and swollen, eyes fixed keenly on you. You thought if he looked at you like that a second longer, you were going to cum all over again. 

You smiled at him, your hand finding his where it still rested on your hip. Gently (though maybe it was because your limbs still felt so heavy and floppy), you pulled him up the bed and down on top of yourself, stretching up to kiss him hard. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue when it slid into your mouth, and his hand on your skin was slightly sticky. It slid around your waist, pushing against the small of your back, pressing your chest to his. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to get enough of it.

You whispered his name against his lips, your own hands settled firmly around his shoulders, holding on for dear life. The fabric of his underwear – why the hell was he still wearing anything? – seemed to burn where it brushed over your hip, pressing hot and hard against you. 

“(Y/N),” he breathed, pulling back enough to study your face carefully, as if he were memorising every detail. 

You felt the air catch in your lungs, your heart skip a beat. “You’re so…” Pretty. Lovely. Gorgeous. Hot. Handsome. Beautiful. You’re everything, Ethan. “God, I love you.”

He froze, and it was only then that you realised you’d said it. You’d actually said the goddamn words, aloud, to him. 

“Are you serious?” he asked. Not incredulous, not judgemental, simply seeking clarification. 

And how the hell were you supposed to lie? You nodded, your mouth suddenly dry. 

“Say it again.” 

“I love you,” you repeated numbly. Then, swallowing, “Is that ok?” 

Another beat passed in silence, then he laughed. “Yes, dammit, I love you too.” 

“You… love me too.” Had you heard him right? Had you somehow wandered back to your dream, fallen into an orgasm-dulled sleep and imagined the last few minutes? But no, Ethan’s lips felt real enough when they brushed yours again, his fingers felt real enough on your back. 

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” 

“Say it again.” 

“I love you. And you love me, don’t you?” 

You nodded, an absurd bubble of laughter swelling in your chest. “Yes,” you grinned. “I love you, Ethan.”

This kiss was different. A kiss has to taste different after something like that, you supposed, and you were both still smiling. You reached down, your fingers skirting the waistband of his underwear, then further still to press your hand against his hard bulge. He moaned into your mouth, breaking the kiss to glance down, up again. 

“Off,” you whispered, already pulling at the fabric. He obliged, quickly and smoothly as he’d rid himself of his shirt, and in a moment his lips were back against your own, hot and hungry. You took his cock in your hand, your own lips moving away from his across his jaw, the hollow where it met his neck, his skin clean and smooth and tasting faintly of hotel soap. 

His dick was hot to the touch, thick and long and roped with veins. You’d wondered, sometimes, what this would feel like. You’d imagined the sound he’d make when you touched him like this (it couldn’t ever have come close to the real thing, you knew that now), how that hot weight would feel against your tongue. He groaned in earnest as you stroked your hand along his length, your thumb swiping around the leaking head. He cursed softly, your name hissing between his teeth, hips moving gently in tandem with your hand. 

“I wanted you for so long, Ethan,” you murmured into his neck. “You have no idea.” 

“Yeah?” 

You smiled. “I dream about you too, you know.” 

He faltered, just for a moment, then, “What about me?” 

You felt your smile widen and you frantically suppressed the urge to laugh again at the echo of your own earlier words. “I dream about fucking you six ways into next week,” you said simply. “Sucking your cock till I’m choking on it and making you cum in my mouth. Or in my pussy, I don’t care.”

“Oh fuck, (Y/N), Jesus,” he groaned, the sound sending another bolt of heat to your still sensitive pussy. “You think about that when we’re out there?” 

“Mhm.” This time you did laugh, nothing more than a soft exhale, not stopping your hand’s movements. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to jerk you off when you’re tryna aim a gun.” 

His cock twitched in your grasp, a low moan pressed back behind his lips. “God, (Y/N) that’s–” 

“Insane?” 

“So fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Wanna feel you, all of you. Can I?” 

Now it was your turn to curse. “Yes,” you breathed, wriggling to wrap your legs around his waist, your hand leaving its place to grip his shoulder, run down his arm, guide his hand to your hip. “Please, Ethan.”

“Here?” 

“Yeah. Here.” You ground your hips against his, already tingling as his cock slid against your slick centre. “I want you inside me. Need you.” 

“Shit, ok, just let me–” He broke off as he sank into you, his hum of pleasure mingling with your own breathy moan. Maybe it was the after effects of your earlier orgasm, the dream state you still weren’t entirely sure you’d broken out of, or a combination of both, but you swore that nothing would ever top this feeling. It was like he was made for you, slow and soft as he pulled out and pushed back in, did it again, then again and again. 

“Shit, Ethan,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair as he bent his head to kiss your chest. You were glad it was still long enough for this, that you hadn’t managed to get him to cut it. He groaned against you and you smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut. 

“Harder?” you murmured. “Don’t have to be so gentle.” 

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he replied, his breath warm against your skin. 

“You won’t, don’t worry. Please?” 

He raised his head, eyes searching your face. “Ok,” he said, dipping down to kiss your lips quickly and softly before he was drawing away and sitting back between your legs, lifting your hips with one hand and sliding a pillow under your lower back with the other. 

Your heart skipped a beat, butterflies swirling alongside the magma in your stomach. This time he pushed hard into you, his cock stroking every inch of your insides, the hand that had been on your hip sliding to press down on your pelvis. “Yes,” you gasped, “yes, just like that.” 

“Like this?” Another thrust, even and determined. 

“Yeah, oh fuck that’s so good.” You reached up over your head, one hand gripping the headboard of the bed as the other twisted in the sheets, eyes fixed on Ethan. He was so beautiful in the moonlight, shining as though he was cast in silver. He was a fucking masterpiece. 

“You’re so good,” he said. “You look so perfect like that, feel like Heaven, (Y/N), I swear.” 

Oh, did he know what he was doing to you? Every jolt of his hips against yours building low inside you, his barely restrained little sounds and the heaving of his chest. You weren’t going to last much longer. 

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, “ fuck, Ethan, you feel so good. Making me feel so fucking good, so good , you have no idea.” 

“Hm?” 

“So hot. You’re so goddamn hot, you know that?” 

“(Y/N)–” 

You were close. You were so fucking close, wound tight and ready to snap at any moment. You whined his name, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts, legs tight around his waist. 

“Fuck, (Y/N), I’m– I’m gonna–” He broke off, pressing his lips together, his eyes fixed on you. 

“Yeah? You gonna cum?”

“Yeah, fuck, where do I–” 

“In me.” 

“You sure?” 

Were you sure? You’d been sure for way too long now. “Yeah, dammit, wanna feel you cum in my pussy, fucking filling me up so good–” 

That did it. His thrusts stuttered and slowed as he spilled inside you, his chest heaving and his head tilted back, eyes closed, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. God, he was just too much, and you’d made him look like that. It had been you, all you, and it was you he was still buried deep inside. Your own climax rolled over you with that, your body squeezing tight and hot around him, your grip on the bed hard enough that you were sure your knuckles were white, spine arching as bliss flooded your body. You might have said his name, he might have said yours again, but it didn’t matter. 

You lay there, warm all over and shaking, watching him. After a moment, his eyes opened and he smiled at you, gingerly pulling out to flop beside you on the mattress. 

“Clean up?” he asked, already reaching over the side of the bed. 

“Yeah.” You were too heavy to do anything but let him gently run the towel he’d found between your legs, thighs and stomach twitching when the rough cotton came into contact with your oversensitive clit. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, cursorily wiping at his own crotch before tossing the piece of fabric away. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” you sighed again, wriggling off the pillow and kicking it aside. You shifted closer to him, his arm sliding around your shoulders and pulling you against his side, his heart beating strong next to your own. Your eyes were drawn to the darker, rougher patch on his cheek, and you frowned. 

“What?” he asked. 

“This.” You ran your fingers over it gently, barely even touching the skin, doing the same to the dressing on his arm. “And this. Can I have a look tomorrow?” 

“It is tomorrow.” He nodded to the clock. Right, yeah. After midnight. “I thought I did an ok job,” he went on before you could say anything. 

“Ethan, there’s nothing even on this one,” you protested. “It’s just… there.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna kiss it better?” 

“I never said that.” You smiled, dipping to brush the spot with your lips. Featherlight, barely there. “Better?” 

He nodded. 

“I still want to check them.” 

“Ok,” he relented, squeezing your shoulder gently.  

You shifted closer, your face inches from his own. Up this close, you could see the baby hairs stuck to his forehead with sweat, every eyelash shining iridescent white under the moon. “I meant it,” you whispered.

“What?” 

“That you matter to me. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.” 

His breath rushed through his lungs and back out again as he stretched to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re the most important thing to me, too. I love you.” 

You tilted your face to his, this time meeting his lips with your own. It was slow, unhurried, relaxed and tender, and everything you adored in Ethan. “I love you, too,” you whispered into it. Then, grinning as you drew back, “And I meant all the other stuff, too.” 

He raised an eyebrow, “All of it?” 

“Yeah.” 

His chest shook with faint laughter under you, his hand stroking over your shoulder. “I didn’t know you thought like that. Didn’t know you thought about me like that.” 

“Yeah, well…” You trailed off, shrugging, your cheeks warm. “Sorry if it was a bit much.” 

“Don’t worry,” he smiled, “it wasn’t. I liked it.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You know,” you said as you lay down, “anyone else couldn’t waterboard that out of me.” 

“Guess I’m just that special.” 

“You are, Ethan.” You weren’t shivering anymore, the only weight in you was the pleasant kind of exhaustion that came with finally being safe, being home. Ethan was alive and he knew, he knew you loved him, and he knew what he meant to you, and he loved you too. If this was a dream, it was the best one you’d ever had.

[orbitariums]

home this christmas | carmen berzatto x black reader smut

happy christmas! wrote this in a pinch, hope u love

also, all my steve rogers fic readers— what say i finish up girls on film over winter break? just for shits and giggles. enjoy!

the drive to your family’s heirloom brownstone in brooklyn was almost impossible as you and carmy took turns navigating the snowy roads and the panic attack that was new york traffic during the holidays. it would’ve been absolute agony if you weren’t right by your lover’s side and didn’t have tons of r&b christmas classics blasting through the entire time. at the first hotel, the two of you were too exhausted to even talk to each other, but carmen’s arm still found its way around your waist like something of an unconscious mechanism. you had to smuggle yourself free in the morning. by the morning, the two of you were determined to finish up the four-hour drive and make it home for christmas. 

no time for rest though. the minute you and carmy stepped in, you were bombarded with the sound of luther vandross belting christmas classics. the smell of good cooking — candied yams, sweet potatoes, collard greens, and glazed ham- overwhelmed your senses. any tension that had built up on the road was immediately released the moment you walked in, carmy holding a huge crate of ingredients that he would use to make chicken piccata.

“cuzzo!” squealed janae, your favorite girl cousin, and a recent howard u grad, as she ran up with her arms opened wide like a snow angel etched into the snow. 

“hey boo,” you grinned, basking in the warmth of her hug. you held on for so long— halfway through today’s trip, carmy’s car heat stopped working and the both of you had to opt for multiple blankets and layering up in all the coats and scarves you could find, plus whatever slightly warming object was in the back of his trunk.

“hi baby, hi carmen. merry christmas!,” your mother, hustling over to the sink with a large pot full of hot water cooed out.

“merry christmas, ms. __. so good to see you, can i help you with that?” carmen asked, setting down his crate and heading over to your mother, getting straight to business.

“carmen, you know to call me denise,” your mother nagged, waving her hand at carmen dismissively. “what i keep telling you about that?! you’re family. now leave me alone and ‘gon get started with your little chef shit over there.”

carmen smiled, that deep dimple sinking into his cheek that made you fall in love with him all over again each time you saw it. 

“yes ma'am,” he relented.

“ooh, your man is so fine, yn,” your sister announced as she walked into the kitchen. “and a gentleman, but we been knew that. hey, carmy. it’s good to see you, boy.”

“yeah, good to see you, too. how’s uhh— how’s benny?”

your sister scoffed,

“stupid, as always. and he don’t even cook. hey, yn!”

your sister laughed and pulled you into a hug.

“home sweet home,” you grinned, jumping right into the business of the kitchen. 

the rest of the day was chaos, but the kind you could only ever love. if anything, carmy preferred this chaos to that of his family’s thanksgiving and back home. this chaos felt organized and loving, not to mention hilarious. it took so long to convince your family that carmy could really cook, but once they finally met him just a few months before and he put down a peach pie like never before, they could not shut up about how fine and talented your man was, and how he was one of the good ones.

today, the same routine. this time, watching carmen cook for your family in your family home revved up a stir deep inside of you that would linger on your mind for the entire afternoon. everywhere you turned you couldn’t help but eye him — his big arms, littered with tattoos, flexing as he stirred a pot of mashed potatoes; the way his brow dug into his forehead with concentration as he definitively scattered parsley over the chicken; his tongue darting out to lick the side of his lip when he was focusing deeply on something. 

for the first time in the past 24 hours, you were practically separated from carmy. he was focusing on his dish and tending to the demands of the practically all-female kitchen (no men were allowed, bar for carmy and your aunt’s husband), so he didn’t get to talk to you, doubly engrossed in your christmas dinner duties, much either. though the times that he could sneak away or had to pass by you, he reassured you with a light squeeze around your hips or a hand on the small of your pack as he got by you. unbeknownst to him, it was only feeding the stir that was increasing by the hour between your thighs, and polluting your mind with the most unholy thoughts. 

the air was thick with flour, smoke, and the smell of a grand dinner by the time you all were finished cooking. while you let the food cool, you opened gifts. carmy had something for everyone in the family, even your baby cousins, nieces, and nephews. by the end of the gift opening, everyone had agreed that carmy was their new favorite. 

“merry christmas, baby,” carmy muttered against your lips, pulling you in for the first kiss you had shared for a few hours now. he placed your gift in your lap. 

“merry christmas,” you smiled against his lips, which tasted like sweet wine and marshmallows, as you pulled away. 

“c’mon now, what’d he get you?” your aunt hollered from her seat, clapping her hands together joyfully. 

you grinned, sloughing away the paper, which was wrapped to perfection, just like everything carmy dared touch. you nearly squealed when you saw the box: black and white with big bold letters: chanel. 

“baby, you did not,” you whined, frowning as you looked over at carmen. again that dimple reappeared and it took you everything not to jump his bones. he stroked his hand with his chin in that pensive way of his, his smile sheepish and yet smug.

“open it.”

you opened it slowly as if you were scared. then you practically tore it out of the box when you saw just what it was — the metallic pink chanel bag you had liked just once on instagram, posting it on your story with the caption “need.” you didn’t expect anything to come of that, and yet, here carmy was, going above and beyond to keep up with your expensive and exquisite taste. you couldn’t help but screech in excitement, waving the bag in the air while you stuck your tongue out.

“y’all look what my man got me!”

“my man, my man, my man,” some of your cousins echoed, humored, in the background.

the entire living room practically erupted with noises of affirmation and disbelief from your family. 

“girl, let me hold that for you!” your cousin janae pleaded jokingly. 

you broke out into a little dance on the couch, ending it with another kiss planted on carmy’s lips, pulling away with a loud smacking noise. 

“you really didn’t have to, baby. i love you.”

“i love you. that’s why i did it,” carmy grinned, his eyes boring deep into yours, promising his love to you. 

“i just know that’s right,” your mother called out. 

dinner was active and loud, as always. carmen’s chicken piccata barely lasted, and folks were starting to compare it to your aunt’s famous fried chicken, but carmy shut that down immediately.

“nah, don’t get me in trouble,” he smirked, holding the plate you had made for him. 

there was something so indescribably sexy about watching him just standing there. that he was so easily integrated with your family, so helpful, and charming enough to please your own mother and father had you weak in the knees. not to mention the insane gift. he told you he’d been saving up for a few months ever since he saw you post that, and that only made your heart melt more.

when carmy wasn’t so in his own head, he was a man of true, deep intention. you were the one who brought him back to homeostasis, to equilibrium. his mental state seemed to clear of all the “bad shit” when he laid his head on your chest, on your lap, your hands figuring their way through the ringlets of his curly hair. 

“yeah, don’t get him in trouble,” the aunt in question echoed as she walked past.

“don’t worry aunty, i still like your fried chicken better. sorry baby,” you awarded carmy an apologetic kiss on the lips. “but i stand on my shit.”

“as you should,” carmen nodded, an amused smirk playing on his lips. “you like other things about me better though, yeah?”

that last part came as a low murmur against your ear, his lips just barely brushing against the lobe. the words, in tandem with his warm, familiar breath fanning against your neck, made you squeeze your legs together involuntarily. you could practically taste the wine on his lips and it made you dizzy. the stir that had been brewing inside of you for an entire day now was now changing pace, becoming quicker, more violent. if you didn’t fulfill your needs soon, you’d overflow. 

you smiled to save face in front of your family, squeezing carmen’s hand as if to say “later.” but god, later couldn’t come fast enough.  

the rest of the night you were glued to carmen, practically hip to hip. you sat on his lap while your family talked around the tree, and he made sure his hands caressed your thighs ever so softly, just enough to keep you reeling from his trickling touch. you wanted him to squeeze, wanted him to sink his palms into you and then some. 

it wasn’t until nearly midnight that people started to pile out, and only then did you find it appropriate to head upstairs with carmen, bidding adieu to your family. 

“aww, it was so good to see you yn, and you, carmen. what a blessing you’ve been to this family,” crooned one of your aunts as she also made her way out the door.

“blessed to be here. thank you guys for welcoming me, seriously. i couldn’t be luckier, holy shit. excuse my language,” carmen rambled,

the words spilled out with ease because of the wine and because he genuinely felt this way. his whole life, he’d been blessed with found family, reminding him that sometimes water could be just as thick as blood. and when you came with the package? he’d never let go. 

people began to peeter out late into the night, and by the time everyone was gone, only then was it appropriate for you to bring carmy upstairs to get ready for bed. 

both you and carmy spilled out a few more jokes and goodbyes before you took carmy by the hand and led him upstairs. as you were walking up there, it hit you that it was his first time being in your childhood room. you only ever stayed here when you were visiting, so it still had a very y2k theme to it that you hadn’t changed since high school. a poster of lil kim with her legs spread was plastered on your walls, along with nsync, backstreet boys, and a couple other 90s-2000s classics. you still had a half-used bottle of juicy couture viva perfume on your desk, the bow wrapped prettily around the cap. 

“oh shit, it’s been a while,” you chuckled. 

carmen was taking it all in, looking around with a thoughtful grin etched across his lips.  

“always been a fashion girl, huh?” he prodded you.

“oh forever.”

you sidled up in front of him, so close you could feel him up against you.

“you were amazing today,” you reached up to kiss him as he towered over you, in height and energy. a soft, wet kiss that left carmy wanting more. so much so that he unconsciously wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you in even closer. 

“yeah?”

“yes. i love watching you with my family. and with the kids, you just…”

“y’know, when i was cooking i kept feeling eyes on the back of my neck. any idea who that could’ve been?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow up as he gazed down at you.

you shook your head knowingly, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, returning his gaze tenfold.

“no,” you replied, your voice sweet like honeydew and so, so telling. 

“fuck,” carmy’s gaze seemed to deepen as his lids sunk lower, drinking in the sight of you. “don’t look at me like that, baby.”

he started to pull you closer towards him, back and back and back until you were plopped down on his bed. his legs, wide and bulky, forced you to spread yours over his lap, welcoming his thighs into a straddle. 

“like what?” you asked, your eyes twinkling as you looked down at him and he looked up at you, his hands roaming your thighs freely, like an expanse of land that was entirely his property. 

“like that, like you’re gonna make me do something you’ll regret.”

“regret? how could i ever regret anything you do to me, baby?” you questioned with a very intentional roll of your hips against him. you felt him grow, blossoming against your own crotch, which made you moan quietly.

“if you’re loud enough—” carmy punctuated his words with a kiss against your neck as his hands went to take off your shirt. you lifted your arms up and your shirt came sliding off, your skin exposed to the cool air. “you just might regret it.”

carmy kissed the side of your neck, eliciting a quiet huff of pleasure from your lips. you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the pleasure. his fingers danced delicately against your bare sides until finally, he rested the whole of his palms against your body, easing them up and down like he was smoothing you out. 

“mm, i’ll be quiet, daddy,” you hummed, arching your back just so, his hand connecting with the small of your back and fitting right in.

“take your pants off,” he commanded quietly, his eyes practically closed as he studied you with heavy lids. the exhaustion certainly didn’t assist the horny daze he was sinking deeper into, tired and full of lustful thoughts that seemed to weigh him down.

“only if you take your clothes off too, carmy,” you whined, but you shimmied out of your pants anyway, watching him with hungry puppy-dog eyes while he did the same, yanking off his shirt, belt, and pants and throwing them halfway across the room.

“and your bra, too,” carmy said softly, his words coming out delicate like petals falling off a flower. he was completely focused on one thing, and it was you— nothing else mattered, nothing else existed. time moved slow when he watched you like this. 

you started unhooking it, then carmy’s hands flung to your clasp to help you, removing it in record time and throwing it across the room. you opened your mouth to make a joke, but you were immediately silenced when his lips attached hungrily to your breast, closing in on the fat surrounding the small of your nipple while the other hand grasped onto the other. 

you whined quietly and started to roll your hips against carmy even more now, grinding deep against his crotch which was covered by his boxers. you could practically feel him poking inside of you, lubricating your pussy even more than it already was. 

“carmy,” you whined. “can feel you.”

“mhm?” he hummed brokenly, his breaths heavy and dysregulated. you were so warm, sharing in each other’s heat, in the still dark of your bedroom. the sheets all done up, practically untouched. he pulled away from your breast, unlatching with a soft pop of his lips. his hand replaced his mouth, feeling the warm trail that his lips left. “can feel you too, sweetheart.”

he let his hand drift down to your crotch, cupping you over your underwear, which had a big wet spot in the center. 

“yeah, that’s what i feel. you’re so fucking wet, honey,” he crooned into your ear, making sure his lips brushed against your earlobe before he traveled down to kiss on your neck some more, sending shivers down your spine that made you buck your hips involuntarily into his hand. carmy chuckled that dark, smug chuckle that made you hate him and want to ride him all the same. the kind that only came out when you were being desperate— when he had control over you and not the other way around. “what’re you doing, baby? go slow, yeah? be patient.”

he made a wreck of you, obliging you anyway by circling a finger against your clit through your panties, feeling the way your slick seemed to pool endlessly at his touch. wanting to feel it on your skin. 

“shut up, carmy, fuck!” you moaned quietly, your arms wrapped around his neck for balance. 

he played with you just a little more, wondering just how far he could take it until your quiet moans turned into pleading whimpers, until he made you start to beg just for his fingers, so that by the time he sat you down on his lap, letting you sink all the way down onto his cock, you had no more voice to beg. that was on his mind, and yet, in his tired, sex-drunk haze, he knew to give you what you wanted now, before you went and turned the whole house into a personal fuckfest. 

still, he couldn’t help but tease just once more. 

“it’s christmas, honey. what’re we doing?”

“i don’t care,” you huffed. “it’s practically tomorrow, it’s like 11:30.”

carmen nearly snorted,

“need it that bad?”

you didn’t reply, and so he asked you again, this time with a kiss of his lips against your neck, sucking and attaching firmly to the sweet, soft skin there, and with his fingers, pulling down your underwear. slick sounds filling the air as it detached from your wet core, a trail of your arousal in between the cloth and your heat. 

“hm?” carmy hummed, letting his fingers dance along your slit, ever so gently and delicately, like they were trailing up your entire being.

“god, y-yes, carmy. need it, need you. please,” you whimpered, muffled as you buried your head into the crook of his neck, lurching into him like you were surrendering, a natural lull you didn’t even realize you gave into every time without fail. full disregard, letting him take over, letting yourself let go. 

“need my fingers inside you, yeah?” carmy panted, finding it hard to control himself.

all he wanted was to be sheathed fully inside of you, whether that meant twisting you open with his fingers, lapping you up with his tongue, or fucking his cum into you as deeply (and quietly) as he could. he obliged, slipping one finger inside with such gleeful ease, feeling the digit get soaked in your arousal. 

you gasped sharply, lurching forward involuntarily. carmy brought you back down with another hand wrapped firm around your waist.

“no no no, stay right there. and answer me, what do you need?” 

“need you carmy, need your fingers, please, another,” you nearly cried out, your voice going up an octave just to beg. perhaps carmen’s favorite sound from your lips, and it didn’t even sound like yourself— it sounded like someone who was forced into impenetrable bliss and didn’t have a vessel to express it, just the voice.

“okay, okay, sweetheart,” he was sweet and giving, so generous, so dazed and yet still so in charge. dipping another finger into your slick, wet heat and burying his fingers to the hilt inside of you, causing you to squeak out. “fuck, gotta be quiet, honey.”

“yes, yes, i’m sorry,” you scrambled to apologize, which only made him want you more. hungry, he grunted, jerking his hips up to feel something, anything. your hands flew to his crotch, palming him over his boxers, but he gently pulled your hand away. 

“don’t worry about me, baby. don’t worry. gonna have you bouncing on my cock in a minute, just wait. wanna make you feel good first,” he assured you, and in your haze, you nodded agreeably, eyes screwed shut with pleasure.

he moved, slowly, so you could feel his fingers sliding against your walls. you threw your head back, a muffled noise of pleasure escaping from your throat. he kept his eyes on you, unblinking, pumping in slow and controlled one, two times, then he picked up the pace, and with it, you got wetter, slicker, soaking his fingers and his thighs. 

your breath caught in your throat, you couldn’t even make any noise. just stilted from the pleasure that you felt, feeling it burn and rev in your stomach— that slow, churning stir back again, working towards completion. all you could hear was your slick as carmy fucked his fingers in and out of you, fast and dangerously deep, hitting every single spot inside of you because his fingers were so thick. carmy’s eyes glanced down for a minute to see his fingers disappearing inside of you like they fucking belonged there, like they were supposed to be inside of you, making you so wet that it was all you could hear. he watched as your arousal painted your mound and spread across your thighs, breathing out heavily in disbelief. he started to fuck his fingers into you faster now, and you whimpered in a pitch he’d never heard from you before. with his other hand, he assisted you in bouncing your hips at the same pace as his fingers. the room was filled with the sounds of squelching as his fingers fucked in and out of you, carrying along your slick with it.

“fuck, you’re so fucking wet. your pussy’s so fucking loud, baby, you must feel so good, huh? feels so good? don’t wanna wake anybody up, do you?” he was delirious, saying whatever came to his mind, his grip on your hip tight and his fingers wrecking you at such a torturous pace. 

“mm-mm, mm-mm,” you cried, rocking your hips against his hands and damn near taking his knuckles— his interjections of “such a pretty wet pussy” and “you’re doing so good for me, you sound so fucking good, baby” brought you to your high, and you rode it out whale bouncing your hips up and down. legs shaking and thighs trembling as you tightened around his fingers, releasing all over him. your voice a muddled mess as you cried out. “fuck, carmy, i’m coming. i’m coming.”

“fuck,” carmen said through gritted teeth, his cock jumping in his boxers. “fuck, you’re so good. you’re so fucking good, yn, that’s it. that’s it sweetheart.”

you whimpered as you came, his fingers still deep inside of you and thrusting while you rode it out/

“i know, i know,” he muttered reassuringly, letting you get yours and then pulling his fingers out softly, resting his head against your rising and falling chest. 

his hands returned to a smooth, kind roam as he let you catch your breath, touching every part of you to comfort you. when you had found your basis again, you sighed lovingly and wrapped your hands around carmen’s neck, pressing your forehead against his and gazing into his eyes. 

a soft smile tugging at your lips, you whispered,

“i love you, bear. wanted to be around you all day, even after spending two days straight with you. still wanted you.”

“i always want you,” he replied without skipping a beat. he lifted his head up to kiss you. “and i love you too. if we can survive a twelve-hour road trip we can survive anything.”

“shit, if we can survive christmas with my family we can survive anything,” you giggled, kissing 

his forehead.

“yeah, i love your family though. mom’s dope. sister’s hilarious. cousins are wildly talented. it fucking runs in the family. i don’t know what runs in my family, maybe… i dunno, bad shit,” he chuckled with a huff, shaking his head. 

“hey,” you pouted. “don’t say that, bear. you’re sweet… attentive… loving… a perfectionist until it kills you, but, that’s valuable. isn’t it?”

you punctuated each word with a kiss, trailing down his neck and around his clavicles.

“fuck,” he breathed out. “don’t start something you can’t finish, now.”

“try me,” you grinned devilishly. 

[desmon1995]

The Warriors and their Odyssey of misogyny

I can’t stop thinking about how The Warriors is more relevant now than ever, especially in the wake of the 2024 election. This isn’t just a story about gang conflicts and survival—it's a brutally honest reflection of the world that marginalized people have to navigate every day. At its core, it’s about fighting through a sea of misogyny and toxic masculinity to survive in a system that’s dead set on crushing those who don’t fit its narrative.

Let’s start with Luther. He’s a white incel in every sense—angry, destructive, and, above all, ready to deflect blame the moment he’s caught in his own violence. After killing a black female activist, he immediately accuses the Warriors. Cleon, a character who knows what it means to fight for your community, begs for reason, for justice. But it’s hopeless—Luther’s lie spreads through his gang the Rouges, and every gang believes him. They want to believe the white man’s narrative. This is how the Warriors become outcasts, hunted by everyone.

What’s chilling, though, is how The Warriors dives deep into the nuances of toxic masculinity, showing it in forms we recognize all too well.

First, we have the Turnbull ACs—the poster boys of hyper-masculine violence. They’re the first to pursue the Warriors, and they’re more than willing to turn their hunt into something brutal. The ACs don't just want revenge; they want to dominate, to assert their power over the Warriors in every violent way possible. All in the name of Cyrus, no less—a symbol of a leader they’ll never understand. And they’re acting this way because of a lie, blindly following a dangerous white man’s narrative without question. It’s the rawest depiction of machismo and rage—almost an anthem of how Men of Color end up perpetuating harmful Eurocentric viewpoints just be a part of a society that hates them too.

Then come the Orphans. The Orphans are all talk, acting like the typical online "alpha males" we see on Reddit or Twitter. They talk big about their strength and what they’d do to women, but they’re nothing but insecure. The moment a more feminine-presenting Warrior flirts with them, they back down, only to puff up again when Mercy questions their manhood. It’s pathetic, really, but also painfully real. As soon as the Warriors fight back, the Orphans crumble, showing us exactly how performative their masculinity truly is.

Then there’s the Hurricanes—the only group to stand with the Warriors. They’re queer, and they know what it’s like to be outcast, to run because society sees you as something to be destroyed. The Hurricanes offer a quiet, resilient kind of mentorship, showing the Warriors that they don’t have to run—that they can fight. The solidarity here is beautiful, and historically resonant. Queer rights and women’s rights are so deeply intertwined because they’ve both faced the brutal crush of patriarchy, especially from those determined to keep the world “pure” and “safe” for white, conservative ideals. The Hurricanes help the Warriors see their own power, and it’s their influence that eventually allows them to survive.

But the most frightening group? The Bizzies. They’re the “nice guys,” the false allies who sing about being there to help. In their song “We Got You,” they say everything marginalized people want to hear. They’re supportive, kind, and reassuring—until they get you in a dark place, where your screams can’t be heard. Cowgirl lets her guard down with them, only to find out that their support was a façade. The Bizzies are insidious because this happens all the time in real life. Fake allies talk about helping marginalized people but vanish or even turn hostile the moment things get difficult. In 2024, we’re reminded every day that this kind of allyship is hollow.

A recent Vulture review questioned why most of the male characters in The Warriors are “bad” and argued that this one-sided view “limits” the story. But here’s the thing: this isn’t one-sided for those of us who are marginalized. For women, queer folks, and people of color, this is our reality. The Warriors reveals what’s true for many of us: that we have to rely on each other, and that the fight for our own freedom is in our hands because no one else will fight it for us without diluting or dismissing it.

In a way, The Warriors is the sequel to Hamilton we need in 2024. It’s a call to action, a piece that understands what it means to exist on the fringes of a world that was never designed for you. For those who think this story isn’t “realistic,” I urge you to think about what it means to live without the privilege of being heard, of being believed. This is the life marginalized communities face every day—the struggle of knowing that no matter how loud we shout, society might never listen.

We’re the ones who have to make our voices heard. And The Warriors reminds us that we’re not alone in this fight.

[callmearcturus]

oh my gd that would be INCREDIBLE- the character building alone would be Fantastic, but fitting ethan and benji into a world where mutants are a thing??? i want to se how they each navigate that social strata, how ethan might try to use his mutation to disguise himself more, and how benji relates to his mutation (does he know? is it coincidence? is he just the luckiest sombitch alive?). anyway im in neither of these fandoms but i have been adoring your writing and now yearn for this fic.

oh lmao punct gave me the thumbs up to share a bit of what if mission impossible/x-men fusion

we have been watching the good xmen movies and obvsly were like "okay what would the mutations of the IMF team be" if this were an AU where they were, like, International Mutant Force or something less stupid

(well nothing is as stupid as Impossible Mission Force so--)

anyway right away: Ethan is a telepath, but we're kind of obsessed with telepathy as a power but also a disability that has to be constantly managed and accounted for. so:

Ethan is not an omega-level mutant like Charles Xavier or Jean Grey, but he's pretty powerful. His telepathy is tangled up in the way he falls a little in love with everyone he meets and is categorically unwilling to accept collateral damage on a mission. He finds it astonishingly easy to let his mind drape gossamer connections to everyone in his vicinity and is buoyed by the feelings he picks up on.

On the flipside: he is absolute dogshit at untangling himself, and it takes much longer for him, like fighting against some innate nature of his mutation. One way this manifests is sleeping; if Ethan is alone and sleeps, his unconscious mind will just drape over everyone in the vicinity and he has to untangle that for a while when he wakes. One way of dealing with this: early on, he asks Luther if he can hitch a ride in Luther's mind as he sleeps, so his telepathy will octopus around Luther while he sleeps, and it's much easier to untangle that in the morning.

On the scale of What Is He Capable Of: Covertly skim through minds for specific information: max one or two people at a time if he wants to keep hidden. any more and he can't be sneaky about it. Converse with people telepathically: 4 to 8, any more and his coherence frays badly Broadcast to people around him (maybe to alert to danger): CANNOT do so subtly, has been pushing this over the years from 20ish to double that to even more, but as he pushes himself more and more, he's more likely to just pass tf out or get a nosebleed Range?: The longer he's connected to someone's mind, the further away they can be and still be in Ethan's reach. Luther could be on the other side of the world and if Ethan really focuses, he can transmit an image or emotion or 'hey i'm alive.' Nothing beyond that but still.

Speaking of Luther, his mutation is extremely high perception of electricity and sonic fields. This manifests in several ways:

Luther can tell when something is powering on, can feel devices and machines around him and has an affinity for them, able to read them via touch or from hearing them when power is moving.

As he gets older and more honed in his work, he can grip a cable and get a sense of where the data is going/coming from, tracing things. The data moving through the air is tangible to him. He's a beast against any and all security systems, able to just feel where motion sensors and cameras are.

I think maybe he can learn to hold and redirect energy over time. He's never going to have lightning powers, but I can imagine him placing a hand on a wall outlet and pushing and shorting out a specific device in the room with an overcharge. But primarily, his power is observational.

BOY it has downsides. Luther is constantly struggling with overstimulation, and because it's not exactly sound or light, it's energy he can ambiently detect, he struggles a lot with controlling it and avoiding getting overwhelmed. Once he and Ethan are buddies, Ethan tends to just hitchhike in Luther's mind. When they're off the clock, he'll filter out all the extra stimulus. When they're on a mission, Ethan helps Luther cut out the superfluous information and humming energy so he can narrow in on what he's working on.

Those people who have Smart Houses where every device is somehow connected to wifi, Luther hates them so much. Just SO much. The proliferation of Google Homes and Connect With Alexa shit is going to turn him into a terrorist someday.

okay so Benji. lmao. here's where shit gets wild.

the thing about Benji is he doesn't know he has a mutation until he's an adult and working in the IMF as support analyst and tech. sure there's been some odd moments in his life. when he was a kid, he was in a car crash and somehow wound up outside the car and fine. and once he was riding a bike through his village and accidentally went down a hill, but managed to land the bike instead of winding up in a crumpled pile of limbs at the bottom. but maybe he was got lucky!

then an actual threat happens at the IMF and a gun goes off at Benji, and the world slows to a crawl. he can just... step out of the way, and the bullet eases by him. turns out, Benji sets off-- okay. it's either a time dilation effect or its superspeed. both are functionally the same, and i think the effect is undetectable to other people so no one knows for sure. but it only happens when Benji perceives himself to be in a life-or-death instance.

he also can give it to people by touch. if Benji's panic switch goes off, he can grab another person and move them and they'll perceive the same dilation he does. the IMF is overjoyed because this is extremely exploitable, and Benji gets rushed into the field because if a mission goes tits up, just shoot at Agent Dunn and he can cheat time.

Eventually, Benji gets assigned to work with Ethan bc the handlers figure Ethan is a telepath, he can just reach into Benji's mind and give him a shock and make him think he's about to die. Isn't that so much nicer than just shooting at him? But Ethan is a fucking telepath and clearly sees the extreme stress all of this has put Benji through. He never sets off the panic switch and more often uses his telepathy to soothe Benji's nerves than anything. Like with Luther, Ethan rides-along in Benji's head a lot.

This throws a wrench into Rogue Nation obvsly because Ethan hears "the IMF has been absorbed by the CIA" and he does not wait 6 months to reach out to the guy who can fuck with time if you threaten his life. because of course the fucking CIA starts experimenting, seeing how they can reliably set the panic switch off. they come up with a device like an epi-pen that can be used to basically give Benji an almost-heart attack but then Ethan breaks Benji tf out of Langley's grasp and tows him across the globe bc no one else can be trusted not to traumatize the shit out of Benji.

As Benji gets older and more adept at his power, he discovers a side-effect of Ethan being tied to his mind more often than not; Benji starts 'going off' when Ethan is in peril. ETHAN IS NOT AMUSED BY THIS because he risks his life all the time and now Benji's going off because of that where it gets tres interesting is that Benji has spent so long talking telepathically, he knows how to direct a thought at Ethan to get his attention (as does everyone who works with Ethan more than a few times). and if he telepathically taps on Ethan, he can pull Ethan into the dilation, even if they aren't touching. it's kind of all Ethan's fault; he's the clingiest telepath ever, and having accumulated years of connection to Benji has just urged Benji's mutation to expand in that direction.

anyway that's that

WE ALSO HAVE BEEN DELIBERATING ILSA POWERS, mostly along the lines of mimicry

one of the ideas I super liked was Ilsa being a power-mimic but she doesn't luck into innate understanding of how a power works, so it's very dangerous for her to borrow someone's power. like, an example we were kicking around was Ilsa accidentally picking up on Ethan's power and, not understanding how his telepathy grabs ahold of people, she accidentally ties her mind and Ethan's together the moment she gets his power, and they're Stuck for a while because Ethan can't untangle her knot and she is figuring out how tf it even works. it's a nightmare.

another idea was the Rogue Powerset, touch-based connection with its own pitfalls. Ilsa able to subtly touch a human and glean some information from them, but she has very little control over what info she gets. and once she touches them, they black out a bit, losing about a minute of time, which is just long enough for her to get out of there. but if she bumps into a mutant, she gets their power for a while instead, and it's messy and awkward and well, she wears long sleeves and gloves a lot is what I'm saying.

and Punct liked how Ilsa might self-select into spycraft because she needs to learn all these skills to protect herself, so she follows the career path and just keeps her power very very quiet, only using it when it's too useful to avoid. or on accident. for instance: when she meets Ethan and Ethan hurls himself into the fight and she touches his skin, Ilsa gets the telepathy juice. while Ethan is dazed from the contact, Ilsa uses the telepathy to sneak him out the back tunnel, then makes the other Syndicate members trust her so her cover isn't blown.

we also came up with a VERY FUN ONE for Grace, which is matter teleportation. Grace cannot teleport herself, but she can move things around when she focuses on them. There's huge limits on this:

smaller items are easier than larger, lighter is easier than heavier.

she doesn't have to see the object to move it but she does need to know about it pretty thoroughly and have a strong idea of its shape and the space its taking up.

example: if you set a closed, empty box in front of grace and told her there's a snowglobe inside, she could try to retrieve it, but it won't work (obvsly, it's empty) and she won't know why and might keep trying to 'grab' the object.

this would make her and Ethan extremely potent, as he can get eyes on something and transmit the information Grace needs to her, and she can grab the object.

because of how her power works, Grace has fun skills about guessing the weight of things. toss her an object and she can probably tell you pretty accurately how heavy it is. this isn't a mutation; she is just hyperfocused on that sort of info because it assists her power.

ANYWAY I THINK THAT'S ALL

[tinned-beef]

Allison Hargreeves is being unfairly vilified?

Allison Hargreeves as in 'SA'd Luther' Allison Hargreeves? Allison Hargreeves as in 'confirmed Viktor's worst ongoing fears and anxieties just because Viktor was grieving his friend/stepson and it annoyed her' Allison Hargreeves? Allison Hargreeves 'contributed to the deaths of two of her siblings' Allison Hargreeves? Allison Hargreeves 'nothing anyone else has lost over the course of this nightmare matters as much as what I lost so I'm gonna fuck everything up potentially irreparably' Allison Hargreeves?

That Allison Hargreeves? I mean don't get me wrong I like her but she's very much a villain right now. She's an interesting villain, a compelling villain, a better villain than Reggie since we actually know wtf her problem is and we wish things hadn't turned out this way. But a villain all the same.

i don't think allison is a villain. at best, i'd say she's an antihero. at worst, she was a catalyst for viktor's arc in season three.

i would like to start by saying that i'm not defending allison's actions. i think what she did was wrong. however, i don't think she deserves all the hate that she's gotten. she's a character that is very morally gray, and people continue to paint her in solely black or white.

what i try to convey in this... very long post is that there's a reason for what allison does in season three. the question of if she’s a villain or not can be debated, but i believe that the reasons for her actions don’t make her a villain.

a big reason why the umbrella academy is such an incredible show is that all the umbrellas are flawed and nuanced, and despite it all they love. all of the umbrellas have their faults, and allison is no different.

in season three allison has lost all hope. she thinks she will never see her child again, her husband is dead, the world is ending, and to her it seems like her siblings don't give a shit. amidst all the chaos and the whirlwind of her life, she needs something that she's used to. something she knows how to navigate.

so she turns to luther. and she gets the comfort she's looking for but it's not right.

allison and luther's relationship is something that has been a topic of many debates in this fandom. i don't really want to get into it right now, but they've always been a person of comfort to each other. allison wants to feel loved and cared for, and she thinks she can get that comfort from luther.

allison is naturally selfish. she's used to getting what she wants. she's used to having the world at her fingertips. and yet almost everything she's held close to her heart has been ripped away from her. and she's never getting it back.

in season three she falls back onto her old habits, rumoring people left and right with no consideration for others. it makes sense because it's the only way she knows how to get what she wants.

and then she rumors luther. she doesn't want to lose him either, and she thinks that he's choosing sloane over her (which is true, but she thinks he's leaving forever. she thinks she'll lose him too). but she almost instantly realizes what she's done, almost instantly tries to take it away.

as for her relationship with viktor, that's another can of worms. in season one, allison is the only one really trying to mend that relationship with viktor. but it's a rocky road. allison snaps at viktor, viktor snaps at allison. these two have had tension from the very start. eventually, that bond had to snap.

at the start of season three, viktor is the only one that really tries to help allison. he stands up for her, and comforts her after she returns from la. but by episode three allison is so consumed by her grief that she's already clashing with viktor.

and when harlan makes an appearance, it just gets worse. harlan is like a son to viktor. someone viktor can care for. and when viktor turns that care and attention away from allison and instead towards harlan, it hurts. why is viktor allowed to have his child when allison will never get to see claire again?

in season three luther tells viktor that allison has “always been good to you (viktor)”. but there comes a point where your love and gratitude towards someone can morph into bitterness and hate.

the reason i say allison is a catalyst for viktor in season three is because the writers needed someone to contest his ideas. someone that will create a struggle for viktor that he will ultimately come out of with a new lesson learned. and allison is a great contender for that position. the show needs conflict in order to have an engaging story at all, and tense relationships between the siblings can be seen throughout all three seasons. (luther and diego in season one, ben and klaus in season two)

as for the deaths of her siblings, do you really think she wanted that to happen? she doesn’t want to lose any more people, that’s the main driver of her character shift in this season.

allison turns towards reginald because she sees it as the only option left. klaus does the same thing, so why is it any different when allison does it? she didn’t know her siblings would die in the process.

allison isn’t even the only sibling that has contributed to a sibling’s (almost) death. viktor slashes her throat in season one, ben sacrifices himself to save the world, and luther willingly walks into the room to talk to reginald. how is that allison’s fault?

i think this is also why five gives his talk to viktor, not allison. he understands what allison is going through on some level, understands the despair of losing those who are close to you. understands being willing to do anything to get them back. even though he quite loudly disagrees with allison making a deal with reginald, it's because he knows she's getting tricked. reginald never had their best interests at heart.

they’ve all lost people, and they all react to that loss in different ways. in season 1, when diego finds that patch was killed, he instantly wants to go for revenge. he plans on going after hazel and cha cha but five inevitably talks him out of it.

allison doesn’t have that influence. in fact, diego suggests to instead let that grief out through anger. i don’t think it was a very good solution in the end.

and despite all that, she wants to redeem herself. she tries to tell viktor the truth, she admits that she made the plan for all of them. she kills reginald and she’s the one that pushes the button at the end of season three. there’s so much left that we don’t know. did allison know what would happen when she pressed the button? did she know what reginald’s real plan was?

but in the end, allison is the reality of a person who has lost those who are closest to her. it’s probably the best job the writers have done while showing trauma and grief. i don’t think allison is a villain, and i think that accusing her of solely caring about herself is unfair.

[perypera]

Five Hargreeves would not say this? would not do that?

Why not?

I saw this alot and want to use this as a prompt into Five’s character study 🙃 so i will take it like a genuine question.

Whatever happened happens. We watched the show, that season 4 is what we got, everything in those 6 eps are canon that they gave us - unchangeable, but how to interprete it - is in your hand and your mind.

So if you want to talk, hello and continue. if your mind already set on stone about ignoring S4 then goodbye.

And this should serve as a feelgood post, S4 Five is not so bad or OOC as people said, he is just more human and less unhinge. A reminder we are watching a show from the very 1st season were literally built brick by brick with : Forbidden love, lies, cheating, turned your back on your family... Why easily accept that with some characters and be unforgiving when it comes to others.

( This is my little pleasure post for my future self to read and enjoy, i did not reread this post, might back later ).

Have some different perspectives to decide is S4!Five worth to be a good person to you or you think it only last 3 seasons. Tua S4 spoiler contain:

Use viewpoint to navigate to the perspective you want to read.

(This is not to sway any opinion about shipping, no, you do you.)

Viewpoint: Five is not himself because he would not follow Lila to the tunnel or take the train or he would do it alone?

Again? Why not? : Five worked for the Commision for around 5 years when Lila was raised in the Commision since 4yo. She is not his colleague, she surpassed his experience in working in/outside of time. So believed in someone with much more experience and let they take the lead is dumbtify his character? Really? Didn't it show his ability to calculate and work for the best results?

Viewpoint: Unnecessary romance line?

Necessity for the plot : Remember when Five killed robot mother Grace so Diego didn’t have to. That is a robot, in s4 it was Diego's 3 children, could Diego be the one to tell Lila to leave them into the unknown? I can say really ‘No’

+++ The mercy for Diego (ironically i know) is the burden they put on Five's shoulder. The guy really be doomed by the plot this season, the responsibilities and what they needed him to shoulder is so much that this is just a little grain compared to everything.

Necessity for the character : Going full circle since S1E1 "We only see each other at weddings and funerals" . The other Hargreeves have the privilege to grow up, leave the nest, build their own little family, now in S4 this is Five's turn to have that, he could have that this season is not the bad thing like people try to make it to be.

+++ Hey, that old man Five could't have a normal teenhood or adulthood, judge him or not he might never truly experience love outside his love for family and now he got swifted off his feets with love with a lover. Well, that is some tough shites you can't control with your mind.

If you couldn't give him credit to control his Anger is there any chance with the biggest hit like Love - precaution that is something you could catch in a matter of seconds then your mind and your heart got flipped.

Viewpoint : He gave up finding a way home and want to take a break, bad or good?

Now, the timeline of s4: 6 years in the new timeline + 6 years lost in the subway can't find a way home equal 12 years later.

Cue good guy no.1 to be our mirror: Lets see the time through the eyes of someone whose character was reduced to a golden retriever - good boy enough for you? - Luther. if you got bored skip to "+++"

Imagine if in the course of 6 years finding Sloan he got tired and give up. Then after that he met a girl, that girl understands him in all traumas he had been through and , 6 years later, over 10 years passed, he couldn’t find Sloan and he fell in love with this girl. He decided give up looking. Would it make Luther a bad guy?

+++ Five could never be as a good boy. His moral is lower than all the other Hargreeves because he was lost and left alone since 13yo with no human around to be a emotions moral figure, his love for his family is in his head for 45 years living in the Apocalypse but that is the time he did not experience other kind of love, even then he also gave up for an imagination love with a manequin...

So... he deserved abit understanding in this subway lost situation? They both thought they couldn't find a way out that purgatory and boy if that old man is not a walking stick of emotional starve.

And to clearly see the canon events so ones can give it personal meaning, there is a subject i think necessarily to be defined. The “family”

Family by destiny (big family) : the family of who bounded together not by choice but by destiny - siblings.

Family by choice (nuclear family) : The one you build with your lover

Cue good guy no.2 : I want to tell you a story about a movie i watched, if you got bored skip to "+++"

An 100yo man in a young body, by destiny created a big family, they stand side by side against wars after wars, the family entrusted their life with one another. Always got each other’s back, they are one big family and if any of them needed the others will answer.

The old man also lives for his destinied family like that, whenever one in danger he would come running.

But after what seemed like infinite times and infinite wars he lost some siblings in his family but he was still standing. He chose to say that was it, i’m tired, i can’t keep doing this, the family will always be in danger, they will always need me but I can’t give any more. He gave up his big family and come home to his lover to live a quiet life together with her.

Well, that is Captain America, he is always an epitome of the best good guy in the multiverse.

+++ This is a trope so generally used in movies. So Five would never ever EVER touch that image because he is a moral grey character, well, but give the 70yo soul man a little empathize is not too much yeah?

Viewpoint : Hiding the cypher

This is one big subject coming to say about his character. While the man was famous for the one characteristic - his love for his family.

Put in the context of time: Five got a relationship and built him a little family of his own for the very first time in 70years. Now in between bring his lover back to dangers with the big family of his sblings >/or < stay in a safe timeline to protect his lover, being torn is saying it lightly.

Have you ever been in the situation like that? And do you happen to be able to control time and space?

+++ The perspective here is that: he didn’t destroy the cypher. He knew they must come back, he must give her the way back.

But we are watching the show where Five is TIME LORD - Let that sink in, he could comeback at exactly the day and the time he wants. Why must ignore that fact, he can live with Lila for idk 20yrs more, then come back exactly that Christmas day. So he can ensure both her happiness and safenesses then take her going back in time to face the Apocalypse with his family.

He didn’t choose the dark turn, that worth 1 point right? Come on~

Last but not least: The abomination ending

Remember since the beginning Five is described versus now s4 he was built to be the character as :

S1-2 (21 days) : Saving the family and sacrifice the timeline or anything in the way >/<S3 (1 week later) : Give up fighting, want to travel and compensate for lost time >/< S4 (13 years later): Saving the timeline and sacrifice his family, his one true love, everything he had and more.

See how epic his character was supposed to change, but this is not something so simple that you can execute in 6eps. This need atleast 6 seasons + 1 movie to be presented enough.

Only thing can't be debateable is Lila, she is the best. I love her in all her broken parts.

So do you want to talk more about perspectives with me or go forget this s4 altogether 😌

[worldgreatestarchersimp]

Dating the Hargreeves would include

Navigation | Umbrella Academy Masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The Hargreeves x gn!reader

Lila Pitts x gn!reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Gifs are not mine

English is not my first language

A/n: Guess it looks like I´m starting to write again. So my requests are open again. But trought my time and school schedule it could take some time, because I´m also having big exams comming.

Luther Hargreeves

You love hearing stories about his life on the moon. He mostly thinks that his stories are boring but you assure him that you like them.

Since he lived on the moon you are his first everything. maybe not his first love Like in everything. First kiss, first time, ... Because of that felt insecure. He tought you would leave him because of this.

He was also scared how you´d react of his condition. He kept it a secret until Diego told him to tell you.

You were shocked at first but you didn´t mind one more reason to hate his dad

He´s the biggest softy and very protective over you.

He alwyas takes you out to cute picnics.

Diego Hargreeves

Let´s say he has type: badass people

You both meet in the box club.

He teaches how to throw knives

You both are gym rats. And always competion each other.

He´s trying so hard to be the ´Alpha-Male´ but fails miserably.

You and him annoying the rest of the family with prankwars

He´s a big cocky wannabe who shamelessly flirts with anytime and everywhere.

His love language is physical touch. He´s a big sucker for cuddling and doesn´t if he is big or little spoon rigth now.

You are saving him from from stupid actions and descision he might would do.

Allison Hargreeves

Fighting with her together against rasicm (it does not matter if you´re black or white or idk)

Raising Claire together. Spoiler alert she absolut loves you.

Being always on your side. We are not supporting S3 Allison inthis household

Finding Luther weird. Not for his condition. but for hid behaviour towards your girlfriend.

Finding her power extrem cool. But after hearing that faked her whole life with her power, the first big fight began. She assured you she wouldn´t do that to you and only did it to het ex because she tought she was a failure.

You wanted to believe her but you were scared that you were also in her curse or whatever it got called.

It was suprisly Luther who brought you two back together.

Klaus Hargreeves

Spontaneous roadtrips somewhere in the world.

You are the only person who knows he´s non-binary.

You both are the funny duo everyone is annoyed of. Like recreating memes at midnight or laughing always by just looking at each other.

You´re taking his drug problemn serious and helping him to sober up.

You are his second and hopefully last love.

Going shopping and catwalking the new clothes all over the hous just to annoy his family more. The only one who seem to enjoy it is ghostie Benerino.

He tells you at random momtents how much he loves you.

Viktor Hargreeves

He had massive trust issuses at first thanks to that bitch

To his birthday you bought him a violin, so could find peace in his playing again. But he got lowkey scared to end the world again. But he tried it anyways one night. When you heard him playing it was so beautiful. Since then he plays every night for you.

You comfort him after his nightmares.

Teaching him some self-defense.

Growing from hating Luther to liking loving him. And starting to hate Allison.

He teaches you how to play violin.

You are always reading to him, because he likes your voice and it comforts him but this little bean sleps always in

Lila Pitts

SARCASM

Your realationship is full of sarcastic comments. What confussed the Hargreeves and other people.

You are the only one she trusts after hearing, that her ´mother´ killed her parenets.

You two meet, because you were her mission, but she fell for you. So your realationship started with trust issues.

Suprisly it was Five who got you both together and played wingman.

She´s very cocky, but so are you. One thing she loves about you.

Teaming together upwith Five, because he´s the only one who´s not a man-child, acording to you.

She´s saving you from stupid actions and descision you might would do.