#vanya: HUH? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stupidcanofpeaches · 2 years

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so remember this post about a s2 au where amnesiac vanya doesn’t immediately believe the obviously unwell thirteen-year-old ranting about the apocalypse and makes a rash decision to help him in a way that is not entirely expected.

so yeah i did a thing

for the purpose of the story five is also hit with some real life consequences of wearing the same set of clothes for two weeks straight and ignoring a barely healed shrapnel wound

it’s pretty short but i wanted to share it! ahhh i should probably rewatch s2 cause i have a feeling i got a few details wrong

also quick disclaimer just in case: since it’s a s2 au and in-universe viktor still hasn’t transitioned, i refer to the character as vanya and mean no disrespect.

Despite his siblings seemingly doing their best to be as difficult as possible because apparently dying in a nuclear blast was simply an opportunity they just couldn't pass up, Five didn't expect for Vanya, of all people, to turn out to be the most difficult out of everyone that regularly came between him and saving his family.

The worst thing is, she's successful.

///

The first thing she thinks is that the boy looks - young. Early-teens kind of young.

The second thing is that he’s talking absolute nonsense. Superheroes? Time-travel? The end of the world?

And he wants her to follow him? No. No, Vanya will not. She has things to do - she has responsibilities.

Even as she makes her way out of the field, he keeps up with her hurried pace. He also seems so indignant, so upset by her refusal, his voice jumps up and down as he talks. She tries not to listen lest she actually believes him. He’s her brother, he says, and if that other blond man is also her actual brother, then their family is an odd one for sure. They have super powers, he says. They need to save the world.

The only one that needs saving here that she can see is the boy himself.

Abruptly, she stops, and the boy circles her, stopping right in front of her. He's a little taller than she is, but she can’t help but come back to the thought of how young he is - his cheeks are round and his skin is soft and smooth, and he’s lanky in that a little awkward disproportionate way of someone who just hit a growth spurt.

He’s probably not that much older than Harlan.

And as much as Vanya doesn't want to listen to him, worry and plain self-preservation thumping in her chest, there's also something else that bothers her. It bothers her a lot.

That is a kid. A kid that's full-on rambling about the end of the world - about superheroes - and yeah, the thing that happened last night was wild but now, in the broad daylight, it seems unreal, imaginary - hard to admit that it actually happened - and he seems wired up in a really concerning way for someone his age. Something curls up in her chest as he stares at her with his jaw squared and fists clenched and she stares right back - something like protectiveness. For all of his nervous energy and agitation, the boy seems... vulnerable. In an unstable, unwell kind of way.

And, well. He is a kid. She keeps repeating that word in her head but there’s nothing else that comes to mind. Maybe this is why he reminds her of Harlan - why she feels so worried all of a sudden. Vanya doesn't have it in her to just leave him.

So when he grabs her by the wrist, a grip that is firm - his hands are really cold, she notices, and there's a couple of thin weeping cuts from the tall corn stalks and leaves that he so carelessly tore through to get to her - she doesn't shake him off, though maybe she should.

"You do understand that I can't just leave," she says, patient. "I have people to take care of."

"So do I!" he says, incredulous. "Why won't you - don't you get it? If you don't come with me, you - and they - everyone will be in danger. The whole world is! Vanya, just - we don't have much time, you have to -"

Now, he really does seem desperate to get her to follow him - but also unwilling to force her physically. Maybe he really does know her, from her past life that she cannot remember - why else would he be so - so nice, almost gentle, for all of his hand-wringing and demanding?

A thought comes to her.

She can use this.

"Alright," she says, reluctant, and he perks up. His tight grips loosens slightly. "But only if you come with me back to the house. I need to finish some things - I need to tell Sissy that I - that I have to go."

He gives another exasperated, wavering long sigh of open frustration. He lets go of her wrist. "That's the only way I'll go," she tells him firmly, but softens a bit when she notices him look around in this harried, frustrated way of his. His jaws are clenched achingly, and his eyes are too tired for someone his age, with an odd glint to them.

“I can’t just leave without saying goodbye,” she adds, softer, and that phrase - that does something, because she can see him inhale sharply.

"Come on," she says, and now she's the one reaching out. She takes his hand in hers, and the boy startles at the contact, pulling back a little before seemingly forcing himself to relax - which is more than a little weird because he didn’t have a problem touching her hand just a moment ago. Is it because she’s the one who reached out this time?

She looks into his face until his eyes meet hers. Bright, green eyes. Too bright. He really is unwell, she thinks with concern, and tightens her fingers around the bony hand, the way he did moments ago. Too skinny, too.

He's dressed in a once-fancy looking school uniform - nothing she recognizes, no surprise there, but with an embroidered emblem on his chest and prim knee-socks and shorts - and it's all wrinkled, worn, with a dark stain on the collar and what looks like an unrepaired cut on one of the sleeves. She can smell a hint of sweat on his clothes up-close; looks like he's been wearing this uniform for a while, non-stop, without changing or washing, and his hair is ruffled, sticking up oddly in the back.

How long has he been out there, wandering in the fields or somewhere in the city, feverishly rambling something about the apocalypse, the end days, seemingly looking for his family, until he stumbled all the way out here? How many people have ignored him, when he was looking like this?

Vanya was not going to be one of them.

"Hey," she says, almost whispering, and the boy swallows. His throat jumps. "You look... really tired. How about you go with me? I'll could get you something to eat, and then I'll wrap up some things and... and we'll go and take care of the, uh. The apocalypse."

She holds the eye contact steadily when the boy narrows his eyes suspiciously. God, he really, really does look tired. She fights the urge to try and touch his forehead, to check for fever. He doesn't look feverish - but he's just this shy of being unhealthily pale, and seems shaky to her.

"A sandwich, maybe? I will make you some tea, or... or coffee."

She doesn't know what prompts her to say that, kids that age shouldn't have coffee, but bizarrely, it seems to work. The boy's shoulders droop.

"Alright," he finally says tersely, and then pulls his hand away from hers. She lets him. He clears his throat a little oddly. "Alright," he says again. "I could - I could use a cup of coffee. But we'll have to be quick, do you understand me, Vanya? We don't have any time to waste."

Sure we don't, Vanya thinks. Someone should've helped you days ago.

There's urgency in his voice, a manic sort of belief that she knows better than to argue against. "Of course," she lies instead, not particularly convincing but the boy doesn't seem to catch it.

"Lead the way," he jerks his head, sticks his hands in his pockets, looking sour and unhappy with himself.

So she does.

She can tell by the rustle that he is following her. "Sure hope your coffee is better than Klaus's," she can hear him grumble, and has no idea what to make of that. Who the hell is Klaus?

By the time she can see the house, there's an idea forming in her head.

The house is empty: Carl is at work - probably, unless he’s off getting sauced, and Sissy and Harlan - Vanya's not sure where they are. There's a good chance that Sissy went out looking for her, she thinks, and her heart squeezes with guilt and worry. She must have taken Harlan with her because it's simply not safe to leave the boy all alone in the house, and Vanya wasn't here to look after him. She doesn’t see any notes that would make it immediately obvious where Sissy went, either.

She'll have to make up for it later - somehow - explain it all.

Well, if everything works out the way she plans it, she'll have even more things to explain. She's not looking forward to that, but she can't seem to think of another way to keep the boy safe and in the house. He's restless, edgy, eyes darting around the place as she leads him into the kitchen - she knows he'll be crawling all over the walls in five minutes flat if they're not out of here by this time.

Thing is, Vanya's not planning on actually going anywhere with him. She has things to do - she has responsibilities. It just so happens that now this green-eyed, skinny boy is one of them.

"So, coffee?" she says, and the boy grunts in acknowledgement. When she gestures to the chair, he sits down quite heavily, the way an old man would sit down, and then puts one ankle up and over his knee, hunched over. There’s something about it - familiar? something that makes her stop and blink, and then the boy frowns at her and the moment is gone.

She turns around, picking up the jar of that new freeze-dried instant coffee stuff that Carl brought home recently and the sugar, and sets the already full kettle on the stove.

"Milk?" she asks, and the boy shakes his head.

"No sugar, either," he says, and Vanya bites the inside of her cheek. That - that would make her plans a little more difficult.

"Just one spoon, maybe," she suggest carefully, "for the energy. You look like you could use it. When did you last sleep?"

"Vanya," he breathes out, and he sounds even more tired like this. "That's not really what's important here."

"One spoon," she says again.

He gives her a look, but doesn't protest - just raises his hand to rub his forehead. He keeps his palm over his eyes for a long, long moment, seemingly almost falling asleep sitting up - but so unmistakably tense he's clearly still awake - and that's exactly what Vanya needs to slip the dissolving pill right into the mug.

It's a good thing they keep them close by even now, though these days they barely even use them, not as much as Sissy had to before - a fact that Vanya was aware of because it was Sissy who told her that, with a soft wonder at just how good Vanya was with him, so good Harlan had less and less of those fits, as the doctors called them.

Before, when they were frequent and exhausting, she could tell it was really, really bad by the look in Sissy's eyes, by the way her eyes hardened and glazed over like china glass - the doctors gave her a last-resort type of medicine - sedatives. Strong ones. They had the ampules for injections for when they couldn't get Harlan to calm down even a little bit, the ones where he wouldn't look at them or touch them, would barely react - the ones where he couldn't stop screaming or hitting himself whatever they did, and Sissy hated using those but they were quick - and they also had the ones that came in pills. Dissolvable pills. They must have tasted awful because Harlan hated them as well, but hopefully the coffee and sugar would mask some of that taste. Enough for the boy to drink at least a few gulps - she knew that even that much would be enough for it to take effect.

He is bigger than Harlan, though, so without giving herself the moment to hesitate any more, she slips in a second one, just in case.

She doesn’t feel good about this when she swirls the spoon in the coffee uneasily, and her stomach churns even worse when she turns around from the counter to face the boy and sets the mug on the table in front of him. When he looks up at her briefly, hand already coming up to wrap around the handle, it’s not with suspicion or tension that she expected to see, that neurotic urgency - no, it's affection, same one he greeted her with in the field. Small. Grateful. "Thank you, Vanya," he says, quietly, and brings the mug up to his lips.

Half of her hopes that the pills won't work.

She forces a smile back. This is for his own good, she tells herself, as the boy scrunches up his nose after the first swallow. It's necessary.

"Almost worse than Klaus's," he says, seemingly to no one in particular, and looks down at the mug, deliberating for a moment. Vanya waits with baited breath. "Ah, well. Could be worse," he eventually mutters under his breath and brings it up again, swallowing the hot liquid almost too quickly. She lets out a soft exhale.

"It's the new type," Vanya informs him, feeling a little weak in the knees, and leans back against the counter for support. "The instant one."

"Ah," the boy acknowledges her, and takes another big swallow. He drinks coffee like his very life depends on it, with big long gulps; like he spent days and days in a dead dry desert without a single drop of water and this was his saving grace from an inevitable death of dehydration.

In just a few minutes, he manages to pour at least half of it down his throat, clearly itching to finish it and get out.

Because she promised him they'd go once he gets some coffee.

He doesn't even get to the bottom when she notices his eyes start to droop, blinking heavily. He raises his hand again to rub at his eyes. The coffee mug is unsteady in his hand, and he shakily sets it down on the kitchen table. Vanya watches him, throat dry, his sharp figure in the warm sunlight - a brief moment of peace.

She should get ready to catch him in case he starts to fall on the floor.

These meds do work quick. She forgot just how quick they are.

"Are you okay?" she asks him anyway, knowing full well what's happening.

"Yeah," he says hoarsely. "Just - long week. I..."

He sits still for a moment, but then his whole body suddenly stiffens.

When he pulls the hand away from his eyes, he looks up at her, blinking rapidly, it's different - there's a horrified sort of muddled understanding that makes her face heat up. His eyes dart to the mug then back to her helplessly flushed face.

"You," he says, voice wobbling. "Vanya, did you - what did you -"

He shoots up so quickly yet unsteadily that his movement sends the chair rocking on its legs precariously until it stops safely again a step behind him. His hand remains on the table, the other hand up and out - balancing him. He takes a small wobbling blind step backwards, not taking his eyes off of her, and Vanya takes a step toward him. His fists clench, and for a moment she can see some sort of bright glow swell up around him - but it’s so quick, she blinks and it’s gone.

His breathing is rapid, uneven.

“No,” he manages. “No, what - what did you...”

When his free hand, the one he's not using for support, goes up, she half-expects for him to rub his eyes or try and grab something for support.

But instead, the boy brings it to his mouth - and clamps down his teeth into the meat of his thumb.

She realizes what he's trying to do all too quickly, and while he's clearly desperate, she can tell his muscle control is weakening by the second, he's wavering more and more - she crosses the room in a heartbeat, and when she tugs his hand out of his mouth in a quick, practiced motion, holding it up and away by his thin wrist, there's not much damage done just yet. All she can see is a red imprint of his teeth - not cuts. Might bruise, but won’t bleed. Good. He pulls back at it, and she doesn't let go.

Harlan does this, sometimes, when the sounds get too much or when he's trying to tell her something and she just can't understand so he gets frustrated and overwhelmed and hurts himself - to express whatever is it that he has bottled up that won't let him stay still. What this boy is doing is the same but also different - he probably wanted to use the pain to regain some control to do - something. She knows he wanted to do something. Vanya won't let it happen - he was always stubborn like that - or, well, right, he seems very stubborn, the type to fixate and not let go.

The boy stumbles back, almost collapsing back into the chair, and this time she lets him wrench himself away but hovers cautiously above him.

He leans on the table heavily, fists clenching with an effort to keep himself standing upright - but then his legs buckle and he topples over backwards again, this time right back into the chair. His hand slams into the mug with the remainder of the coffee, sending it flying to the floor sideways. Vanya winces at the sounds of it breaking sharply. The boy's chest heaves up and down as he gasps, and he blindly palms the table, pushing at it, pushing at the chair - trying to claw himself out of it, out of the kitchen. Away from her. It's no use: his movements are underwater-slow, hazy, uncoordinated. Already, he's slowing down again from that brief burst of adrenaline - his palm hits the table top and then stops, fingers curling and uncurling weakly, and his elbow sort of pushes at the back of the chair he's now crumpling into, but all of his pushing and fighting only succeeds in flopping his body forward awkwardly, overbalancing, his own weight pulling him down on the floor - not up. He wouldn't be able to stand, anyway. His legs sluggishly kick at the floor, shoes scuffing at the floorboards.

Vanya rushes over to him before he manages to throw himself down on the floor with his squirming and crack his head open, and only flinches a little when he suddenly makes a sharp, angry, desperate whine at her touch.

"I want to help you," Vanya says into his ear, firm and calm, now holding him by the shoulders, keeping him safely in the kitchen chair. The boy shakes his head. His whole body is shaking with a frantic emotion, one that she cannot name.

"Vanya," he mumbles, slurring now. Like this, he sounds delirious. "Vanya. You're killing us. You're gonna - we'll die, Vanya, we - Vanya, we'll -"

His voice cracks. He sounds desperately convinced, and so - well - scared, she feels a little bad for doing this.

He's also barely making any sense now. Killing them? How? We?

No, as bad as she feels, she's definitely doing the right thing - he's not well, he's lost, he's scared, he needs help and Vanya's giving him exactly what he needs even if he doesn't understand it.

"Shh," she murmurs, the sound soft as it slips out from between her teeth, and the boy makes a protesting sound low in his throat. "Shh," she shushes him again, and then dares to lean him forward until his face is pressed into her shoulder.

The movement feels natural. Something compels her to do it - maybe it's because he looks so small like this, and so honest-to-god terrified in a sharp contrast from his previous pushy confidence. He pushes back at her, and she barely feels it. She can tell he’d be full on struggling to push her off if he could.

She wants to help him. That's the entire reason she's doing this. Vanya will help him.

"It's okay," she tells him, honestly and warmly, and strokes his back over the jacket, making circles with her fingers. "It's okay, just go to sleep... we'll figure out what to do once you get some sleep, okay?"

The fight drains out of him. "Va," he forces out, words all jumbled and strained. his hands are still now, no longer pushing back at her - helplessly curled into her shirt, weakly pulling at it, hand shaking back and forth. "Va - V'nya. We... we h've to - h've t' go. P... pl'se."

She hates how despondent he sounds - the way he shakes even as her hands draw calming patterns into his skinny back. One of his hands loosens its grip on her shirt and slips off to lie on his lap.

And even like this, he's still trying to convince her.

Poor kid.

He really is sick.

"There we go," she says soothingly slowly as he leans into her heavier and heavier, "there we go. Just let go..."

She brings her hand up to his neck, stroking the short hairs there comfortingly. She can tell he's clinging to consciousness with the last of his strength. There’s some wetness she can feel soaking through her shirt right where his face is - just a little.

From her awkward position Vanya can see the broken coffee mug and a little puddle of coffee on the floor - not much of it left; he really drank pretty much all of it, and he did it quickly. The meds were designed to work almost instantly - no wonder his body was giving in so quickly and so readily.

The tremble in his body softens, and then he makes another one of those awful, stifled sounds - something like a pained whimper - and then he finally goes silent.

Vanya keeps stroking his back until she can hear his breaths even out. When she cautiously moves him to slump back in the chair, rearranging his position, and his head lolls to his chest - she sees that his eyes are finally closed, a wet trail on one of his cheeks from one of those no doubt angry, frustrated tears that she felt on her shirt, and his whole body is heavy-limp and unprotesting, and she breathes out a long sigh. His whole expression is slack - obviously out like a light.

She did it.

Vanya knows she did the right thing. Somehow, it still doesn't feel quite right - she doesn't even know who this boy is - his name is Five, she thinks he said? - and where his parents are, if somebody's looking for him - and yet, she practically drugged him, in the home of the people who so generously gave her food and shelter, with the medication of the boy she's actually looking after.

This sure feels... illegal.

If she kept him here - to help him, of course, he's too young and too obviously unwell to take care of himself - would that be considered a kidnapping?

No, no. He said that she was his sister. An older sister, by the looks of it. If he was telling the truth, then she just took him into her custody for a bit. Because she was his older sister and had the right to do this. Right?

The worry brewed.

Still, she couldn't just leave him there, and she couldn't just up and follow him to do whatever it is that he wanted for her to do in the name of his delusional story about the end of the world.

"There we go," she whispers to the empty air. "Now, let's get you to bed."

The boy, of course, offers no answer.

///

a couple of notes: while instant coffee was already a thing back then, freeze-dried instant coffee was new. yes i specifically researched instant coffee. and also all kinds of sedatives boomed in the 1950s and dissolvable sedatives were very much thing in the 60s though they were less popular compared to the 50s when everyone and their grandma used them for everything.

and yes i keep piling up all kinds of wips on top of one another. may is gonna be pretty busy for me so honestly no guarantees on how and when this will get continued. i might add this as a one-shot to my series of short h/c snippets on ao3. thought y’all might enjoy this one either way!

also shoutout to @clementineofmine for telling me that corn leaves are actually kinda sharp so irl five would probably have a few cuts from pushing through the rows the way he did in the show!!

#tua #fanfiction #five #viktor #s2 #used vanya for this fic bc at this point in the story viktor hadn't transitioned yet #cause it's s2 and in s2 we still have vanya #and this is a s2 au #whump #i guess #might rework this more in the future #drugged five is an oddly consistent theme in my fics #huh

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aintitfierce · 10 months

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idk why i made vanya a god when he probably just as easily fits in as a member of the fair folk but that seems very IC of me

#saw a post about fairies and remembered Those Exist and thought #huh #i think it's the potential Utter Lack Of Reason And Logic that draws me to gods tbh #vanya doesn't necessarily have blue and orange morality he just has a mood ring where his moral compass should be smh

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atom-writings · 1 month

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omgg i cant stop giggling n kicking my feet BUT can i request gn!reader 'accidentally' leaving a lipstick kiss mark on russia, america, canada, greece and japan before they leave for the day and the countries dont notice until either from a mirror or someone else points it out? AAOUGUGGH

hetalia russia, america, canada, greece, and japan when their s/os leave a kiss in lipstick

1.6k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: none!

a/n: hjey guys did you know being a costume director is time consuming? i did not. send help. also enjoythis idk

Russia

It was never an easy affair to get Ivan out of the house. His clinginess combined with how admittedly boring his job was made it near impossible for him to leave without you forcing him to. Today was one of those days, and you were beginning to think you’d have to leave with him.

"But darling, can't you understand? It's so cold and miserable out there..." He whines as he holds you.

He's got you positioned so that you're standing between his legs while he sits on the couch, his arms wrapped tightly around you and his head resting against your chest. So... no escape available without coaxing.

"I know, I know, but you'll be late..."

"They will be ok without me, but I won't be ok without you!"

All you can do is sigh until you're suddenly struck with an idea. You can't go with him, but you can leave something with him. And looking down at his snow-white skin, you have just the idea.

"But you won't have to be without me, Vanya!" You chide, tilting his head up to look at you. His face lights up instantly.

"What do you mean?"

Instead of responding, you lean down and press a soft kiss against his forehead, leaving a pink imprint of your lips on his face.

"That one was magic, ok? It'll stay with you the whole day, so I'll always be with you!" It's childish, and you're struggling not to laugh, but his innocent expression tells you all you need to know. He'll finally let you go, none the wiser as to what you really meant.

"Ah- Mr. Braginsky..." Some random intern was forced to prompt later in the day, his tone fearful as to how Ivan would react.

"Yes?"

"You... you have something on- on your face..."

"Huh?" He reaches up to wipe where the intern had gestured, but only smiles when he comes away with your favourite lipstick. He decides that whatever left can stay... it's just your magic, after all.

America

Alfred was a busy man for all the effort he expended to prevent that exact reality. He'd much rather spend all day playing video games at home with you, but duty calls. Though, now, was just glad that for once, you were busy as well.

“Hey, babe!” He greets you with a bright smile, resting his hand on your shoulder before moving to sit across from you. The meeting spot he had chosen was busy, but at least it wasn't far from either places you two needed to be.

“Were you waiting long?”

“No, not really,“ You respond with a sigh, twirling the straw in your drink.

”Well, that's good because uh- bad news, I won't be able to stay l-“

”Ugh! Seriously?“

He shrinks a little, fidgeting with his hair, ”Yeah, I know, but like- I can't reall-“

”Do they know you're a person? Like, a person who needs to live?“

“Technically, I'm not, babe,” He laughs, “But I appreciate how protective you are anyway.“

He continued to talk with you for a while, about your day, his day, a weird guy he saw on the street, about how you can't keep threatening his boss because he's the president- until after only a few moments, his phone rang.

He sucked in a quick breath and accepted it, only speaking for a second. Then, he got up with a dramatic groan.

“That's my cue. I guess I'll see you later, K?”

But he wasn't about to get away that easy. You shot up, grabbing onto his tie and pulling closer so you could kiss his cheek quickly.

“For good luck,” You assure, and he grins.

“What are you guys laughing about?” Alfred asks as soon as he goes back to work, looking nervously at the group of co-workers pointing at him.

“Got something on your face, man!”

Instantly, he realizes what happened and hurriedly wipes it off. His face is red with embarrassment, but he can't deny the butterflies in his stomach.

Canada

No matter how long you've been together, Matthew never stopped trying to be the picture-perfect boyfriend. At least, that's what you thought as he chose to show up with roses when he came to pick you up. It might've been a fancy event, but you're sure no one else would be doing that kind of thing. But who were you this kind of attention?

“Uhm- good evening, Y/N,” He stutters out as you let him come in for a moment.

“Awww, you shouldn't have!“ You take the roses from him and set them aside.

”It- It's nothing, really-“

”Most men wouldn't even think of that anymore...“ You assure him. He looks sheepish now as if he hadn't expected you to like your gift.

”Then- then, um- they should learn how to t-treat their partners...“

How cute. You walk over to him and stand on your toes to kiss his cheek, to which he immediately stiffens and blushes.

“Thank you, Matthew.”

“Ye-Yeah, uh-huh- yeah- y-you're welcome,” He mumbles, looking down in embarrassment. The colour gracing his cheeks almost perfectly matches the mark your lipstick left behind. You begin to say something about it, but before you can, he frantically cuts you off.

“So- we should get g-going right? Right, time to go...” He blurts out, taking your hand and almost dragging you out to the car.

Finally, once you two arrived at the event, you gathered the courage to tell him.

While you two walked, arm in arm, up to the main entrance, you suddenly blurted out, ”You have lipstick on your cheek!“

Except by that time, more than a couple of people had seen him. causing him to instantly freeze up.

The colour drained from his face, and he weakly whimpered out, ”Um, c-could you- uh- g-get it?“

You immediately obliged, cleaning off his cheek. He was embarrassed, but it was still on his mind all night.

Greece

“But do you have to?”

“Yes.”

“But-”

“I’m not getting out of this one, ok?”

“But I don’t want you to go…” His protests were typical, but that didn’t make them any less annoying. Although, it’s hard to resist him when he’s clinging to you like a lost puppy and he smells like he just finished cooking.

“It’ll only be a few hours, ok?” You sigh, finally finishing your makeup.

All he can do now is whine softly, which makes you realize there may be only one way to stop his desperate clinginess. You turn around in his arms, take his pleading face in your hands, and press frenzied kisses all over it. Instantly, his eyes light up and his lips form a dopish smile, and you know you’re free.

“Is that better?” You ask, and he nods. But before you let go, you have to admire how silly he looks with your lips painted all over his face.

By the time you return home, it’s already dark. The house is quiet, and when you check the time, you realize he would’ve fallen asleep hours ago. But considering how exhausted you are already, it’s nothing but a relief.

When you enter your shared bedroom, your thoughts are confirmed. He’s already passed out, his broad body splayed haphazardly over your blankets. At first, you don’t think anything of it. But when you turn on the light to get ready for bed, you notice the red stains still sitting on his cheeks.

Somehow, throughout the entire rest of the day, he never looked in the mirror long enough to notice the lipstick covering his face. Or, maybe he did, and just decided that your tokens of affection could stay.

Japan

Kiku was never late. Not even when tired, sick, or at war, was he late to anything. So, the one day that he allowed himself to relax with you, was naturally the first day in centuries that he hadn’t been an hour early.

“It’s gonna be alright!” You call out from the bathroom while you do your makeup, and he doesn’t even waste the time to respond. Even from all the way across the house, you can hear him desperately throwing things together.

“It is not alright!”

“You’ll still be on time!” That doesn’t seem to convince him to calm down at all, as you can hear his panicked breaths growing louder as he makes his way over to the entry door.

“Wait, wait, hold on,” You insist, and he pauses for a moment. When you meet him at the door, he looks a mess. His hair was askew, his eyes wild with panic, and his tie nearly all the way to the side.

You sigh and begin tidying him up. He relaxes under your touch, you can tell even from under his layers of stoicism; although he can’t allow himself to bask in your attention for long.

“I must go-”

“I know, I know, just…” You pull him forward, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He blushes but doesn’t let that distract him. In a moment, he’s gone out the door.

After a frenzied drive into the city, he can finally breathe a sigh of relief. 10 minutes early… not great, but enough. He looks in the mirror one last time, making sure he looks his best before he finally steps out into the public when he notices it. The print of your lipstick, still on his cheek.

His touch lingers on it for a moment, his breathing stilling, before he rubs it off. You’ll just have to replace it later, he tells himself before he finally steps out of the car.

#not proofread at all #heta tag #hetalia imagines #hetalia x reader #ivan tag <3 #aph russia x reader #alfred tag #aph america x reader #hws america x reader #hws russia x reader #matthew tag #aph canada x reader #hws canada x reader #heracles tag #aph greece x reader #hws greece x reader #kiku tag #aph japan x reader #hws japan x reader

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unusualfanbase · 2 months

Text

Thank you soo much 💓 💗 🥺

lately more ppl have been liking my post and you all have no idea how much this means to me thank you all so much I mean it from the bottom of my heart!! Let me know what yall would like to see next!

Ben: Klaus is that a hickey?

Klaus imidieatly covers it: uhm uh no it uhh.. mosquito bite ahha..

Ben: uh huh.

Dave walks in: hi guys

Ben: hi mosquito.

I love how Viktor coming out was literally just:

Viktor: I talked to Marcus

Five:your an idiot vanya

Viktor: its Viktor

Five: oh sorry, your an idiot Viktor.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

hope you enjoyed

#the umbrella academy #tua #tua x reader #five hargreaves x reader

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silky-slinky · 2 years

Text

REMEMBERING ME !

FIVE HARGREEVES X GN!READER PAIRING !

READ PART ONE HERE !

FIVE HARGREEVES MASTERLIST !

WC: 5k

A/N: VIKTOR HASN'T TRANSITIONED AT THE FIRST POINT SO HE WILL BE VANYA. I AM NOT DEAD NAMING HIM IN ANY WAY !

Comfortable silence lay steadily inside your room, the sound of the paintbrush gliding across the easel was slightly heard, along with your steady breathing. Rich colors decorated the canvas, ranging from bright yellows to dark blues, covering the white part of the material. The calm atmosphere makes you sigh in contentment.

Painting made you feel at ease, your coping mechanism if you will. A calm mind is what you adored, your powers could be overwhelming if it wanted to. It made you uncomfortable at some times, giving you a glimpse of what you didn't want to see from a person's mind. Yet it was also incredibly useful for villains, barging into their minds to see what their weaknesses are. It was horrible to come in uninvited in a person's mind, but it did the job.

Marcus was extremely fond of your powers, while Ben used you for his much dirtier deeds, forcing you to walk in a person's mind to cheat his way through. Much like when he was arguing with Marcus, he wanted to know what his weaknesses are, so, he forced you to do it for him. It made you uncomfortable after using your powers, knowing as you're prying into their privacy. It's a curse and a blessing all in one.

A loud sound slightly startled you, causing your brush to glide in a way it wasn't supposed to, the red light outside your door catching your attention. “Fuck.” Muttering softly, being frustrated before fixing everything up and seeing what's a big enough problem for Marcus to push the emergency button. It was only pushed whenever it was urgent, much like the time when Marcus frantically pushed it after coming home with Ben in his arms after the Jennifer incident.

The soles of your dirty shoes brushed against the floor as you made your way to the balcony, hearing loud voices from below. Your eyes caught Jayme's, and you rushed over to her side, causing you to be in the middle of the balcony. “Huh, weird. Didn't expect guests today.” You commented, which earned only a soft chuckle from her. Your eyes scanned everyone, taking your time to observe everyone.

They were all dressed in black, except for the boy who had school shorts on that displayed his pasty knees. One had a cape on, a dramatic hero outfit. One had a cowboy hat, a stylish man. One had knives all over him, guessing that it had something to do with his powers. One had a black coat on, she was shorter than most of them. One had regular clothing on, a bulky person. While lastly, a boy who had school shorts on.

Five's lungs stopped working completely when he caught a glimpse of you. The sight of your body swimming in your blood flooded his thoughts immediately, making it hard for him to breathe. It messed Five up, mentally and physically after your death. His body gave up on making precise sniper shots, and his mental health deteriorated day by day. Everyone at Commission noticed, he was almost fired for it, but ultimately pushed away the idea as he was the best assassin they had and will ever have.

His heart clenched painfully, he looked down at his right hand, the very hand he used to shoot you with. He was incredibly hurt, too hurt to notice that you were staring right at him. It pained him to see you, knowing the last time he saw you traumatized him. His breathing was erratic, and beads of sweat formed on his face.

Your brows knit together in confusion at the boy who looked uneasy and uncomfortable as if he wanted to leave right at that moment. An idea popped into your mind, waving a hand his way, the boy with school shorts. Trying to get in his head as much as you hated to. Before you could continue, Reginald's voice interrupted you.

“They are the sparrows. My children.” Five's whole body tensed at Reginald's loud voice. Clearly proud of his adopted children, knowing their capabilities.

The Sparrows were strong, but they didn't have what The Umbrellas had. The Sparrows sure outplaced them in terms of how convenient their powers were, but The Umbrella had a bond that only they could form. A chaotic mess but they loved each other in a way that they'd put their lives at stake to save another one's life. It's what made them siblings, hell, Five tried everything just to go back to his family.

Five's stare was fixated on you, his eyes never leaving yours. To be quite honest, it made you uncomfortable, seeing a stranger stare right into your soul. He couldn't believe his eyes, he didn't even acknowledge the fact that his dead brother was there in front of him. All he could think of was you.

The feelings Five felt were surreal, it felt as if you had punched him so hard, that he couldn't compose himself. He wanted you, needed you to remember him, no matter what it takes.

“I'm sorry. What do you mean, your children?” The man with knives says, inching toward Reginald in a taunting matter.

While Five was stuck in time, staring at you. He stared at you while you made your way down the stairs, whispering something to the girl beside you that made the girl laugh while looking at him. All of these things happening all at once but all he could do was stare.

“That isn't possible, old man.” The man with knives taunts even further, taking one of his knives, and playing with it, attempting to intimidate Reginald.

“Of course it is! I'd think I'd know, would I?” Your feet are planted right beside Ben, and your posture is straight, trying to show who's in control. Ben simply shoved you aside softly, careful not to push too hard that you'd fall over. Once you've composed yourself next to Ben, your eyes panned back to the boy.

“Everybody else can see Ben, right?” The one with the cowboy hat asks his siblings, who looked as confused as the one who asked.

“Y/n.” Five's whole mouth was dry, your name was merely a whisper, barely audible for others to hear. His face was defeated at the sight of you, who was closer than earlier when you were on the balcony. He was extremely, overwhelmed. All five stages of grief came at him all at once.

“Wait, you know them?” The bulky man points over to you while glancing at Five. It was a surprise for them for someone in their team knew someone from the enemy team. Considering everything, they didn't know Five up to an extent. Their lives were restless, from one apocalypse to another, from one problem to another. They never had time to sit down for a moment and get to know each other on a deeper level.

Your face scrunched up at the boy who knew your name. “Who even are you?” You asked no one in particular, generalizing all of them. By now, your other siblings were behind you and Ben. Marcus standing on the other side of Ben, taking up the responsibility of being Number One.

“They call themselves the Umbrella Academy, a group of scheming, perfidious malcontents who accosted me in the fall of 1963 when I was away on business in Dallas. Be warned, they claimed to be my spawn.” Reginald's loud voice echoed around the living room. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jayme subtly snickering at the last part of what Reginald had said.

The girl with a cape stepped one step closer to Reginald, in disbelief at what he said. “Claim? Look, Five, what the hell is going on?” She gestured over to the boy in short shorts who used his time to watch you. What a peculiar name, given, that they are a peculiar family. It made you feel slightly uncomfortable with his intense stare.

“I don't know yet, but it's concerning.” Five's eyes panned over to you and Ben, his expression both mixed with confusion and surprise.

“Is he telling the truth?” Marcus spoke out from beside Ben.

“Not the part about us being perfidious.” The short girl replied, clearly bothered by Reginald's words and how he spoke it.

“No, we're amateur-fidious, at best.” The boy with the cowboy hat on says, showing his hand that had the words ‘Goodbye’ written on it. If he was on your team, you would've laughed.

His siblings paid no mind to the silly boy, the short girl continuing. “But we are his children. This is our house.” Ben nudged you slightly, telling you that you should use your powers.

You obliged, moving behind Ben to hide, subtly bringing up a hand and pointing it at the girl's head to barge into her memories. Five watched you do your work, much like what he watched a million times by now. Memories flooded your brain the moment your powers worked on the short girl. Memories of some with the boy with schoolboy shorts. Memories of some with the bulky man. Memories of all of them. You used her memories to know all of them even further.

Klaus was the one with the ‘Goodbye’ tattoo, Allison was the one with the cape, Luther was the bulky man, Diego was the one with knives, and Vanya was the one you barged into. You stumbled back from using your powers, it was something that overwhelmed you at times. Jayme caught you before you could fall, the Umbrellas watching you but didn't say anything.

“You okay?” Jayme whispers, helping you compose yourself.

“I'm okay, thanks.” You made your way back beside Ben, being faced to face with Klaus.

“Okay. None of you belong here." Allison says from her side of the room. Her eyes panning over to every single one of you and your siblings.

“Let's move out everyone, ordered by Ms. Allison.” A few scattered laughs from your siblings as Christopher spoke out his opinion. The Umbrella's expression was clearly confused, not knowing how you knew their sibling's name.

“How-” Allison started. Presumably was about to ask how you knew her name. Before being interrupted by Grace who had a tray of cookies in hand. They had several questions for Five.

“I wasn't expecting company.” Diego started to walk toward the robot, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched the robot's slight malfunction. “This is the best I could do on short notice.” You pitied Grace, you really did. Your siblings treated her like what she was, a robot. She often got mistreated by everyone in your family.

“Mom,” Diego whispered. It was true, Grace being their mom in their memories. What scared you the most was the fact that they did live here, Vanya's memories were full of it. Some being with a blonde woman who if you could recall was named Sissy. Some being in this house, with Grace and Reginald. Pogo was even there.

“Mom? She's a robot, you perv.” Jayme comments, causing your siblings to snicker.

“It's not a robot.” Diego was quick to reply.

“Hey, don't you call him that.” Luther defends Diego from where he stood. Guessing from Vanya's memories, Luther had a character development.

“Or what?” Ben taunts. He could get annoying at times. Voices were overlapping, filled with both The Umbrellas and The Sparrows, teasing each other, provoking one another. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jayme getting ready to use her powers, before launching at it on Diego. His siblings paid no mind to him, too engrossed with threatening one another.

Your eyes watched the man be confused before smiling to himself at what he saw. “Can I see?” You asked Jayme, replying with a soft ‘sure.’ Using your powers, you delve into his mind, watching his hallucinations. Revealing both The Umbrellas and The Sparrows dancing with each other, what a weird desire.

It was another thing that bonded you and Jayme. It was part of your power to see Jayme's hallucinations, causing her to be one of your closest siblings. Along with Ben, who at times, could be an asshole. You snapped back into reality once the hallucination ended, seeing a smirk on Jayme's face as she watched Diego's reaction after.

“You got 30 seconds to get out the house.” Marcus' deep voice resonated around the living room. You sympathized with The Umbrellas. Although you did know the full truth, you couldn't say anything since you still sided with your family. After all, they were the ones you originally went with.

“And if we don't?” Allison replied. She still gave you hard glances every once in a while, confused why you knew her name and confused why Five knew your name.

“Then we'll have to settle this the old-fashioned way.” You rolled your eyes at Marcus and his corny sayings before he took down an enemy. You wondered if it was engraved in each leader's mind to be corny.

“Look, we just fought a literal army.” You nodded along, one of Vanya's memories. Ben watched you, wanting to know what you saw, but had to push it aside for later. You watched Marcus' face fall, somewhat believing the girl. “Okay? This doesn't need to get ugly. Let's all just calm down, and let's talk.” She ushered once more. She had the loudest voice earlier when she tried to calm down the others.

“Pst. Ben-er-rino.” Klaus called out to him. “You look so much better alive than you do dead.” Ben wasn't in any of Vanya's memories, only his younger version. Presuming that he did die in their memories. You didn't know what to call their version of your lives yet.

“Am I right?” He questioned his siblings, only to be ignored once again. A recurring matter in Vanya's memories, along with the present. “Except for that haircut.” Ben did have a horrible haircut.

“What the hell did you just say?” Clearly offended at Klaus' comment.

“Come on, come on. Stop with all the hostility, Mr. Grumpy Pants.” He took steps forward to be close to Ben, observing his face. “Oh wow. Nice scar. Muy Macho.” Your eyes scanned the room, confused as to why Klaus wasn't stopped. Only to have eye contact with both Five and Allison.

“Shut your mouth!” Ben's tone much like venom.

“You shut your mouth and just hug your brother-” Klaus starts but gets interrupted by Ben's fist colliding with his face, causing Klaus to quite dramatically stumble back and plop his body down the floor. Ben had a short temper, and he could get mean at times.

Another fit of arguments started before Marcus was the first one to take a blow on The Umbrellas, pushing Luther away from Ben who punched his brother. Loud bickering and taunting were the only things heard inside the living room, along with occasional grunting from Marcus and Luther as they fought.

Marcus kicked Luther right in the abdomen, causing him to fly onto Klaus who had just stood up. Each sibling picked their prey to fight. As you picked the most interesting one, Five. Diego taunted Christopher with names. Klaus faded away, getting away from all the chaos. Marcus and Luther throw and dodge punches as best as they could. The others going onto their agendas.

You sat on one of the bar stools, watching and waiting for Ben to finish his part with Five. The boy would sometimes get distracted as you watched him, getting a few cuts and bruises from not focusing, nothing he couldn't handle. Ben put him in a choke hold, before blinking away to the nearest pillars.

“Want me to cover for you, Ben?” Already standing up before being interrupted by Ben's irritated voice.

“Go help Jayme or something.” Rolling your eyes, but obeying nonetheless, already looking for Jayme.

Five's eyes watched your figure fade away, being distracted yet again causing him to take another blow from Ben. Your feet wandered off, planting them right next to Alphonso, leaning your body on one of the pillars as you waited for Vanya and Jayme to finish. Although you were a part of the unnatural and super-powered team, fighting wasn't your forte. They only ever used you if intelligence was needed, knowing that fighting wasn't your strong suit.

“Who says I'm blind, asshole.” Fei replied to Allison. Alphonso offered you the bag of popcorn, gesturing you to take some, and you happily obliged. He was also one of the people you had a close bond with. When both of you were children, he used you to experiment with his powers as you did the same to him.

Your eyes scanned the place, watching every Umbrella use their powers. You had already known and studied all of their powers thanks to Vanya's memories, but it was fun seeing them in action.

A wave of light emitted from Vanya. You feared her, and everyone should, too. She ended the world two times, what else was there to do? Sloane stepped in, using her abilities to make Vanya float and throwing her body to the wall that hung several paintings. You would lie and say that Sloane wasn't the most powerful one among all of you. Granted, there was Christopher who for some reason was a cube, but Sloane did things that would blow anyone's mind.

“Art snob, huh?” Sloane shouted from her place, making sure that Vanya heard her. Your eyes watched Diego following Christopher all the while throwing knives at him, failing miserably. You heard Klaus shout something that you couldn't quite make out due to the fact that Ben's tentacles were suffocating him.

Alphonso cheered Fei on while she was giving her all into fighting Allison. Diego passed by your side quickly, still running after Christopher who toyed with him. Just as Fei was about to strike Allison with her weapon of choice, she was stopped by Allison's manipulating words. “By the way, I heard a rumor you can't move.” Causing Fei to be stuck right where she was.

Alphonso handed over the bag of popcorn to you, taking Fei's defeat as a cue to step in and for you to step out. Your eyes scanned the place, looking for Jayme. Finally catching her frame, you jogged over to her, curious as to who was her next opponent.

A defeated sigh left your lips the moment you saw those uncovered knees. His gaze was right on yours as he helped Allison up. “Hey, short pants. What's up?” Jayme started, earning a scowl from Five, clearly uninterested in what she had to say.

Allison stood beside Five, before being ushered away. “Go help the others. I'll handle this one.” He referred to only Jayme, knowing that he had no intention of hurting you in any way. It still hurt him just by looking in your direction.

Five used his powers, blinking away behind Jayme to punch her, careful not to lay a finger on you. “More like their ringer.”

His eyes were on yours, distracted yet again, not noticing how Jayme spat on him with her venom. You leaned back on the wall, waiting for Jayme's powers to do their job and for yours to do its job.

“Hey, gross, all right?” His hand attempted to wipe away the venom, but before he could do so, his skin already absorbed the substance. Jayme simply smirked all the while raising her eyebrows in his direction, waiting for his reaction.

Not a moment later, his expression was confused. Seeing as this was your cue to jump in, you were taken aback by the scene in front of you. The vision included you by the top of the staircase. It took you a while to process everything. How Five knew your name, how Five saw you in his deepest desires, what Five uttered as he talked to you in his hallucination.

“I'm sorry, my love.” Tears already sliding down his face as he talked to the version he had of you. His body slowly inching toward you, feeling as if he was pulled in. “I didn't know, I'm sorry. I missed you, more than words can say.” He felt guilty and relieved all at once. Guilty that his hands were the same hands he used to pull the trigger on the gun, and relieved because even for a moment, he had a chance to see you.

You pulled away from his mind, being overwhelmed yet again. Once you pulled away from Five, Jayme was quick to catch you. Looking up, you saw him kissing the air, where you stood earlier in his vision. “Are they all perverts?” Jayme exclaimed. Seeing as you've had enough of the boy in school shorts, you left Jayme to deal with him alone.

Grace stood by the entryway of the living room, a plate of cookies in hand. It had been days since Jayme and Alphonso had passed away due to The Umbrella's ally. It nearly tore you to shreds, their death taking a toll on your mental health. Ben, Fei, and Christopher left you at the hotel along with The Umbrellas and Sloane, seeing as you weren't ready to stand up for a long time due to wailing your heart out.

As much as it surprised everyone, including The Umbrellas, you had formed a bond with them in the time you've been mourning your deceased siblings. They weren't as bad as your siblings told you in their stories, most especially Ben. They were surprisingly fun, chaotic, but fun.

For those days, you've made it your mission to avoid Five at all costs. Frankly speaking, Five had been on your tail, watching your every move at all times. It was the grief that drove him to do so, he had the urge to protect you from everything. It annoyed you how he would be next to you at every chance he could get. He annoyed you.

“Lovely to meet you,” Lila stated as she took a handful of cookies.

Diego gestured to Grace's nonexistent right eye, looking uneasy. “She stabbed herself in the eye.” Luther whisper-shouted right back to Diego to answer his confusion, Sloane standing right next to the bulky man as you sat on the large couch, next to the armrest.

“Welcome,” Fei started, one of her Ravens trailing right behind her along with Ben. “Please make yourselves at home.” She gestured to the different seats scattered all around the room as if this wasn't their home. It baffled you as to how Ben and Fei looked like Jayme and Alphonso's death didn't affect them one bit.

“Bitch, this is our home.” Allison commented. It was true, but you had yet to find the right moment to tell them the truth no matter how hard it was for you and your remaining siblings. However, you had also yet to know how Five knew your name or how Five saw you in the vision and why was he apologizing. Many questions are unanswered, and all it takes to know it all was to dive into his mind.

“Uh, excuse me?” Fei questioned Allison, and Allison only rolled her eyes as a reply.

“Jellybean?” Luther offered the bowl to everyone, attempting to ease the tension the two families had. Five watched you stand up from your seat, taking the bowl of jelly beans from Luther, then going back to where you were originally.

“Where the hell is Viktor and Klaus?” Diego asks no one in particular.

“With our luck, probably Kugelblitzed by now.” Five answers for him, sitting down on the armrest next to you. Normally, you would've pushed him off, but you were too tired to make a fuss, and so, you let him. Even resting your head softly on his arm, his heart rapidly beating at your actions.

“You're a dark little dude sometimes.” Five paid Diego no mind as he watched you eat your different colored jelly beans in peace.

“Ooh, what happened to your hand?” Fei asks, but before Diego could answer, he was interrupted by Ben.

Ben clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. “We don't have time for idle chitchat. Everyone, sit down.” Everyone obeying Ben's order.

The moments that passed by consisted of an unexpected fight between Allison and Viktor as the others watched with snacks in their hands and mouths, entertained by the heated argument. It was something serious that you didn't recall, something about their mothers? But either way, there was something strange that happened with Allison. Her powers worked on Viktor even without using the words 'I heard a rumor.'

The next hour or so passed by, and Sloane, Viktor, and Lila used their abilities to contain the Kugelblitz inside Christopher, which scarily enough, it worked. With Sloane's perfect calculations, it went smoothly, or as everyone had thought it did.

You watched everyone with a slight smile on your face as they danced, drank, and chit-chatted, a glass of champagne in your hand. The song Another One Bites the Dust plays loudly, yet even with Queen being one of your favorite bands, you couldn't get yourself to be fully happy despite saving the world successfully.

“Hey.” Five stood in front of you, taking you by surprise. The alcohol coursing through his veins gave him a sudden burst of energy and courage.

He sat down next to you on the couch, his eyes darting to your eyes and then down to your lips. “Five, I don't want to talk to anyone at the moment.” It was true, you had no energy at the moment to speak with anyone other than your mind.

“Can't I spend time with my spouse that isn't my spouse?” You simply rolled your eyes at him, leaving the living room and heading toward your room. His footsteps trailed closely, getting louder by the second as he followed you throughout the house.

Before you could slam the door on his face, he caught it just in time. He didn't know why he was pushy. He didn't even know why he followed you into your room. He understood that you weren't his Y/n, the one who he loved and the one who loved him back. He understood everything, perhaps it was the grief that was talking.

“Leave me alone!” You shout. Suddenly, a burst of energy filled the room, knocking some little things in the process, and resulting in accidentally jumping into Five's mind. You caught a glimpse of you and Five on your wedding day, the widest smile you've seen on Five. All memories of you and Five came at you all at once, making you stumble back, drowning in memories.

Five was caught by surprise, not catching you in time. “What the fuck?” He heard you mutter under your breath. He felt the burst of energy as well, it nearly knocked him over. With your distressed state, he assumed that you did accidentally get a glimpse of his memories.

“You weren't joking. Holy shit.” You were in denial even after he said your name, even after seeing yourself in his vision. It scared you to know that a completely different version of you existed in someone else's life.

From what you saw, Five had lived a comfortable and peaceful life with you. Apart from him killing people every time he had to. His memories were full of you, full of him being stressed as he thought of ways to solve the apocalypse, and a reoccurring memory of him pulling the trigger causing a bullet to go straight through your head.

“Did I? They? Gave you anything special?” Not knowing what version of yourself were you using. His eyes darted down to the wristwatch he had on. It was your wristwatch that he took right after you died.

“Here.” Five gave you the wristwatch. “Why do you need it?”

“I can bring their memories back, but it's risky.” Five helped you stand up, a hand on your forearm.

“Risky? How?” He asks.

“I could lose my current memories.”

You didn't exactly know what led you to helping him that night, but you were sure that it was one of the best decisions you've made. He was ecstatic the moment you came back to him. Although it was selfish, but he knew that even if you refused, he would've accepted you either way.

It took a long time before the others had adjusted to your new personality and new traits. Ben also stirred an argument with Five about how he took you away from them. It was amusing to all of them, most importantly to Five. He loved seeing his Y/n interact with his family, much like what he dreamt of.

Five didn't show it, but he was deeply affected when he had a wedding without his family members attending. He dreamt of the day that he'd remarry you, but this time, with his family by his side.

Sloane and Luther you and Five slowly swaying on the dance floor, with the soft instrumental in the background, your head rested on Five's chest as his head was rested on yours. Despite the very evident gossiping from Klaus, Ben, Lila, and Diego, the both of you paid no mind to them. Only caring about each other.

Five was a romantic, a sappy old man. Despite his background as an assassin, he loved corny and cheesy things that would either make your heart melt or make you gag. Yet he'd only do these things with you, no one else could.

“They really are an old couple.” Sloane comments, taking a bite out of her vanilla cake.

FIVE HARGREEVES TAGLIST !

@isventigayoreuropean @halfumbrella @iiirhiane-g @crinklypink @its-loki-bitch @cff3kat @umbrellatte @yuuki4646 @dontspoilthis @fivelegance

Please message me if you'd like to be removed or added!

THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST !

- ★

#extremely slow burn #SUPER PROUD OF THIS #i hope everyone enjoys this #tua #hargreeves #the umbrella academy #x reader #five hargreeves #five #five hargreeves x reader #five tua #five hargreeves x y/n #five hargreeves x you #number five #five x reader #tua s3 five hargreeves x reader #i got a bit lazy toward the end smh #ANOTHER WEDDING SCENE OH JY GOD

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