@twicecut

"Don't mention it." Seriously, it was his job. Patching up a bleeding guy was, like, a Tuesday, and it was not his business to be calling the cops about the obvious-fight he'd been in, at least not over stuff like this. "But hey," he did say, as he pushed away from the little table they'd been at, supplies in hand (not sterile anymore - and most of it was junk anyway), "be safe, OK? That cut's pretty deep." Don't let it get any deeper, yeah?

"....Does it still hurt...the fingers y'lost....even though they're back in this like....continuity, timeline, whatevs. D'you think Fivey's arm still hurts?"

Klaus is both tender and unusually sedate. Contemplative.

"I mean, I know I still hurt a lotta places."

@twicecut

"So, you, uh, work a lot with Five? Back at the Commission?" he asked. Diego was standing at the stove, working on cooking up an omelet, but his attention kept trailing to Lila. He was fishing for something. "What was he like?" | asked by @twicecut

❝ Five was Five, ❞ she at first answered very flippantly, not paying much attention to his question as much as she was to the comic section in the newspaper. One glance up at him over the cartoons, catching him looking back at her, she figured he wanted a little more than that. So at first, Lila shrugged as she thought about the kind of person that she remembered Five to be. ❝ Five was very much a down-to-business man, a real no-nonsense character. Never said much except 'when and where'. I don't think he ever had a friend either. Kind of sad really. ❞

@twicecut asked:

"You look like you've been kicked through a charity shop."

"Imagine how much worse the other guy must be," Alphonso said with a roll of his eyes. "Or are you still not understanding how my powers work?

@twicecut

Michael sat heavily. He was safe, for now, and largely thanks to the strangely dressed man beside him. Huffing softly, Michael tapped the man with loosely curled knuckles for his attention. He nodded when the man looked at him, and tapped his own chest. "Mi... kull," he said, with effort. "Michael."

@twicecut sent: "I can't believe they'd publish that."

"Yeah, good to see you too."

He gnaws at his little plastic hospital tag as they step into Diego's dingy back room apartment, but it won't budge. He'll have to borrow a knife to get the damn thing off when Diego's not looking. Of course he knew they'd have to talk about it eventually. For Christ's sake, even on the drive back home from the clinic, they'd passed at least 3 stores with the new Best Seller on display. He can imagine how desperate his brother is to outlet the rage— he'd laughed, at first, as he conjured up the mental image his brother's explosive reaction to some of this shit. Everything from childhood bedwetting to psychological abuse, laid bare and printed in black and white for the world to see. It's actually astounding, when he thinks about it, how Klaus and Diego are both framed as the poor victims of their fathers torment, and still such Grade-A assholes to their sister.

"You gotta admit...it's kinda ballsy though, right?" There's a tiny breathy laugh at the end of his words, but maybe that's simply because the gravity hasn't quite settled in yet. He's not sure it ever will, to be honest. He hopes it doesn't. Because the second it stops being funny, he knows the devastation of having his trauma on bookshelves all over the world is going to tear him apart.

Trembling hands run down the length of his face as he stares at the beat up cover with little Number Seven's face staring right back at him. He tries to focus, but it's so damn hard, there's no way to summarize the absolute shit show in his head, so all he can say is the very first thing he'd been wondering from the get go:

"D'you think Dad knows? Has anyone told him?"

"Oookay, asshole," Diego sighed. He was trying to sound annoyed, but there was an unmistakable note of brotherly affection beneath the snark. "How would you like to go home?" // hiii! only if you're still accepting this meme!

(@twicecut sent a meme (always accepting all memes, no worries!)

Green eyes widened considerably as Klaus let out a scoff, adapting a dramatically offended expression as he pressed a hand against his chest. If he had pearls, he'd have white-knuckled them.

"Grossière… putain d'obscène," he breathed with exaggerated pronunciation, then grinned brightly and lifted the silver flask in his right hand up to his lips with a wink in his brother's direction. He took a large swallow, then held the flask out as if to say 'join me, won't you'.

"Y'know, it's-- it's-- bold of you to assume that I still have one, brother of mine," he said conversationally with a hint of a giggle at the end, choosing to look down at his shirt cuff as he sought out a loose thread to pull at, hoping the act would distract him from the truth of his own words.

He looked at Diego after a few seconds, his expression more lighthearted than his words generally were. "Just think of me as free range, y'know? Free range human. Though I don't-- recommend eating me. Probably way too fuckin' game-y." He finished with a disgusted expression and a shudder.

@twicecut said: "Careful there, little Einstein. You frown at that equation any harder and your face is gonna get stuck that way."

Five doesn't know whether it's the age-old, knee-jerk instinct to immediately do whatever his siblings tell him not to do, or just a blind, reflexive response to the complex calculations in front of him, but his brows automatically scrunch up a little more, drop down a little lower on his forehead, and the corners of his mouth edge down a little farther, as his annoying brother's annoying voice cuts through the whirlwind of numbers on numbers on numbers.

"Fantastic advice, Diego, but until you're capable of linear algebra and four-dimensional calculus, I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut. And you'll waste less valuable oxygen that way, so it's a win-win, if you ask me." He quickly scrubs out the six he scribbled down just a second ago, and replaces it with a seven instead — an amateur mistake, honestly, he can't believe he didn't catch it sooner. Of course it can't be a six. It has to be a prime number. Jesus, Five, get it together. "And, by the way, if you ever call me that again, your face is going to get stuck in a whole new way."

Flirted with meme — I think it goes without saying that Diego would step in immediately to help either of the twins. He's pulling out the big knives guns and getting in the offender's space, intimidating them, telling them to leave them alond and threatening them if he has to.

Alternatively, if it's getting too risky, he's throwing a knife first, and chasing them off.

Then the twin is going to get asked if they're okay and walked back home.

Your Muse sees mine being flirted with and mine obviously doesn't like it. How does your muse respond? || always accepting

Jenna would be all over this in both versions.

Despite the fact that she definitely could have handled her own with her powers and all. Probably make a few teasingly flirty comments to Diego on that walk home about him being a knight in shining armour and how chivalrous he is for helping out a damsel. Just kind of really taking the piss out of him, but also like genuinely touched that he helped her out. And she wouldn't recognize him from the Umbrella Academy because she was never particularly big on them as a kid.

Nova on the other hand... would be like 🏃‍♀️ 💨 the second Diego steps towards the perpetrator, or chases him away. When there are no eyes on her she'd bolt. Nova is certainly not sticking around to accept a walk home from the stranger who threw a knife at another stranger.

@twicecut​ enabled me

delores was right about rationing food. since the harsh winter he’d lost over half his reserves and in a petulant case of idiotic childish anger had broken a fair bit more once he’d found out. now, his stomach howled as he tried to make a single tin of just still in date beans feel like an actual meal and not just prolonging his suffering in the hell he’d jumped to. but now the spring had started the smoke and ash had lessened so he dared to move further out from his base of operations. with her, obviously. he wasn’t going to leave delores home alone when he could die at any moment. she’d want to be there. she’d said as much.

“ alright, delores. we’ve already cleared that store but maybe...maybe where i found you might have something else we didn’t find last year? ” in some part of his mind he knows it’s sad what he’s doing. but he needs delores for the communication and it beats hallucinating dead family members. she hums in agreement and he continues to pull his red wagon.

then he sees a figure. the first humanoid figure he’s seen in years. the all black stands out surrounded by the ash covered wasteland, after all. five freezes in place, eyes wide. “ he’s not there. he isn’t real. ” saying it out loud doesn’t seem to make the figure disappear. “ diego? please tell me zombies haven’t finally started to rise. i don’t want to have to bury you all again. ”

"You know, you're getting weirder."

At first he just gave his brother a slow and careful look. Five was taking his time to dignify a response. "Right --- I'm the weird one." He lifted his cup and took a long sip of his coffee before setting it back down again. "And out of curiousity, what makes you think that ?"

#au where diego and klaus talk about the loves of their lives being shot in the chest#(possibly both by commission agents if u believe that theory)#[self placeholder];#[klaus hargreeves placeholder];

Aight >8)

@twicecut

It was raining. Just a light sprinkling of water, really, but enough to turn the graveyard dirt covering his rumpled suit to mud. Enough to glue his bangs, black with a white streak smack-dab in the middle, to his forehead. Enough that he distantly recognized it was cold. There wasn’t enough of him there to do anything about it, though. The fog in his mind was too heavy. So he kept walking, wandering aimlessly, fueled by nothing more than the sense that he needed to be moving.

He blinked and it was darker, the path in front of him blocked off. A dead-end alleyway rather than the street. When had he gotten there? How long had he been staring at the brick wall in front of him? He wasn’t sure and he couldn’t bring himself to care. Dress shoes dragging on the pavement, he turned, prepared to continue on his way.

He blinked and there was a man in front of him. Speaking (to him?), saying…something. It was hard to focus through the fog. He seemed…unhappy. His eyes remained locked on something just past the man’s head as he shuffled in place, uncertain. Another blink and a hand was suddenly right there, almost touching him. He didn’t (couldn’t) think, just reacted. Snapped his own hand out to grab the wrist, twisting it in a move that would no doubt be painful for the receiver, a move that was so well-practiced it could be done without thought, a move that was pure muscle memory. In an instant, he released the wrist and was back out of reach. Heart racing in his chest, he struggled to fight against the fog that threatened to settle back in, trying to be more alert, despite how difficult it was. Trying to be ready for whatever happened next.

SOAKED - "You good?"

Good?

Connor's eyes tracked to Diego Hargreeves, LED neutral blue. This storm was unforgiving. The rain had drenched him through, hair wet, button-down a deeper red than he'd normally have chosen, shoes turned sieves for the water.

Connor thought about it, for a beat. It wasn't bothering him. He was enjoying the rain. Was he good? Settled on:

"I'm wet."

🩹 but what if it was just a bandaid fjdjfjd

(it's a unicorn bandaid. klaus left them in the boiler room and diego just has them now.)

Diego's room was quieter than the rest of the gym. A little hide-away with the boiler in one corner and a neat but cramped living space, single bed tucked away against a wall. TK sat on the edge of it now, with Diego perched on the very edge of the desk chair across from him, digging through one of those tiny little what-do-you-even-use-it-for top-drawers two inches deep.

TK had told him already that it was nothing, really. Been a little pissy about trying to brush it off, actually. But it was just idiots on their way home with nothing better to do, yknow? TK had made it to the boxing ring, and he'd been planning to wait it out there until Dad got off shift and could give him a ride or something. No big deal.

He had been more afraid when he arrived than he'd later remember being.

"Alright," Diego announced he'd found what he was looking for, and TK watched him produce the little box of unicorn band-aids, package not sealed, cardboard creased from where it had been jammed into the drawer.

"You..." wanna give him unicorn bandaids? "Um. You really gotta get some decent medical supplies." Teasing, though it fell sort of flat. He didn't need anything better than a bandaid anyway. Bruising, mostly. He'd be fine. Only split the skin here and there.

Diego groaned as he roused. He couldn't remember the last time so many muscles had felt so sore. Arms, back, thighs, abs, even his calves felt weak and tender with exertion. His head lolled toward the analog clock—9am? Damn. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in that late either.

Half-blindly, he felt beside him until his knuckles bumped against Bezi's naked side. Mornings usually started before sunrise with a workout and quick patrol around the city, but the longer he laid there, assessing what parts of his body ached, the more he thought he should take a recovery day. Bezi had been the workout.

Diego laid there for another thirty minutes, drifting in and out of sleep. Then, needing to stretch, he forced his body to make the slow, creaky climb into sitting upright. Beside him, Bezi stirred. Diego flashed him a sleepy, crooked smile.

"Good morning, Casanova," he said, graveled and thick. "I hope you know you threw off my daily schedule."

Bezi sprawled, utterly at ease, across the bed, chest rising and falling slowly, completely without care. A touch brushed his side and, sensitive, his skin twitched, but nothing seemed urgent and so he quickly fell back beneath the veil of sleep. Thirty minutes later, his bedmate began to shift. He muttered into his pillow as he felt the motion in the mattress beneath him. One eye, just barely able to peek over the pillow, peeled open, and he rumbled softly at the fuzzy smile he saw. "Mmmmmm...." He stretched out to an even more impressive length, muscles flexing beneath his skin, before rolling over with a sigh and a lazy smile. "Ah, but it was worth it~"