#Six Kinder Eggs

[waitingandwishing]

(Cross posted on tumblr and AO3)

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Five wiped his nose and Y/N touched her forehead, great... It was bleeding. The both of them chased after their father and Five shouted something that Y/N knew far too well of. "Ἄνδρα μοι ἔννεπε, μοῦσα, πολύτροπον, ὃς μάλα πολλὰ!" Five shouted. Reginald turned to look at the two teens before going back into his car and driving off.

Five sighed and Y/N rubbed his shoulder for comfort, "We'll get him next time, Five." She said reassuringly. Five shook his head.

Diego and Lila appeared next to the duo as Five confirmed that it was, indeed, their father. "Y'know, I'm starting to get the feeling that dad's avoiding us." Five said, putting his hands in his pocket.

"Hate to be the boring one, guys, but it's time we get the hell out of here." Lila said, hurrying away quickly before getting stopped by Five.

"When you say 'we', who exactly are you referring to?" Five asked.

"Not a lot of ambiguity in that sentence." Lila said, looking between Diego and Y/N.

"Listen, I don't know who you are or where you came from, but whatever it is, I advise you to return posthaste." Five said with a fake smile.

"She's right, Five. We gotta get out of here." Diego said as more and more of the authorities showed up.

"I just saved your life, you kinder-shit." Lila defended, "If I hadn't stepped in, all that would've been left of you is a blazer and some bloody socks."

"And that's the problem. You're too good. You ask too many questions. You know too much." Five accused, scrutinizing the woman. "And you fight like you know what you're doing."

"He's got a point." Diego and Y/N both said.

"So I know how to handle myself and that makes me the bad guy?" Lila asked. Y/N sighed.

"Lila, he does have a point." Y/N crossed her arms, "No one who goes to an asylum and knows how to handle themselves can run up on walls and choke someone with their legs while hanging on a chandelier."

"I thought you were on my side." Lila said. Y/N grimaced.

"Since when were there sides?" Y/N asked.

"Well, whoever you are, you're in my way." Five said, "If I see you again, I will kill you." He said, grabbing Y/N's hand and leading the both of them away.

_____________________________________________________

"No, no, no. I don't understand." Diego said, pacing back and forth in the kitchen, "They keep following me."

"Who?" Luther asked.

"Those dutch psychopaths." Diego sighed.

"They're Swedish." Five and Y/N both said as the girl handed Luther some pepper and salt. Her forehead had a bandage on it from when the Swedish guy bashed her head last night.

"They're hired guns paid to eradicate us if we do any more damage to the timeline." Five explained.

"Makes sense, after all, they're Swedish." Y/N said and handed Luther the cayenne.

"Yeah, but why now?" Diego asked, "I mean... I'm fine for three months until you showed up."

"Yeah, I was here for a year and no one messed with me." Luther said before turning to Y/N, "What about you?"

Y/N shrugged, "I dunno. I guess I had a little trouble but other than that, I was fine."

"A little trouble?" Five asked, "What'd you mean by that?"

"Some guys showed up and tried to shoot me dead at the house." Y/N said, "Do you want spinach with that Luther?"

"No, I'm good."

"Alright- anyways, I buried them alive and no one else bothered me for a few months until Five showed up." Y/N said.

Diego and Five looked at each other before getting back to arguing once again. "Even if it was my fault, which it isn't, we only have six days before the end of the world, and the closest anyone's gotten to Dad was that driveway at the consulate."

"Well..." Luther sighed, "That's not exactly true." They all turned to him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Five asked, stepping in closer.

"I saw him." Luther said, still cooking his eggs. He explained how he had to beg for money and how Reginald kicked him out of the house.

"That's pathetic." Diego said, sitting down as Luther brought the pan of eggs to the table and started eating them.

"Yeah, well, at least he didn't shank my ass." Luther said.

"No, dude. He shanked your heart." Diego said.

"What, like Lila did?" Y/N asked as she put away all the spices. Diego turned to her.

"Okay first of all, ouch. Second, may I remind about how you acted when Five disappeared?" Diego asked. Y/N froze before shrugging.

"Touché, off-brand batman." Y/N said. Diego scoffed as Elliot came into the kitchen.

"Is that my bathrobe?" Elliot asked Luther.

"No."

"Look, who cares what he shanked. He knows something about time travel." Five said.

"Um... Wait, why don't you just do your thing and, uh, time travel us out?" Elliot asked. They all turned to Five as Y/N sat down in between Luther and Diego.

"Anyone care to explain?" Five asked, clearly Elliot touched a nerve. He got up from the table and went to grab some coffee.

"First time he tried, he got lost in the apocalypse." Luther said, his voice muffled by the eggs.

"Second time, he ended up without hair on his balls." Diego said and Y/N snorted at the comment.

"Last time I tried, I scattered my family across three years in Dallas, Texas, possibly triggering a doomsday." Five said.

"There's no possibility, it's going to happen." Y/N crossed her arms as Five jumped to her and handed her a cup of coffee. “Thank you.” She smiled and took a sip.

"You're all missing the big picture here." Diego said, "Dad is the ringleader of a serious cabal that's planning to kill the president."

"A cabal?" Luther asked.

"Ignore him. Look, the way I see it, we only have one option." Five said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Oh yeah, what's that?" Luther asked.

"It's time to get the Umbrella Academy back together." Five sighed. Y/N groaned.

""Last I heard, Klaus was in India. Allison had a husband which is why Luther's so mopey, Diego was suddenly in an asylum, Vanya was living a good and happy life, and you were nowhere to be found." Y/N frowned.

"Wait, that's why you're eating eggs?" Diego asked. Luther sighed.

"Can one of you three just get Allison please." He said.

"You two still a thing?" Diego asked his brother before leaning in, "Do we need to talk?"

"No, like Y/N said, Allison's married." Luther sighed.

"Whoa, dude, that's rough." Diego sighed.

"I can handle it." Luther chuckled before stuffing his face with eggs with a mopey expression. He was clearly not handling it.

"I'll get her." Five said, placing his mug on the table. Y/N stood up from the table.

"I'll come." She said before turning to Luther, "Don't squeeze Vanya until she suffocates, alright?" Luther looked at Y/N before nodding. She smiled before taking Five's hand and they both jumped away.

Luther and Diego turned to each other with a nod, "Are they...?"

"No." Diego sighed.

"But..."

"Yeah, I think we all know."

_____________________________________________________

Y/N sighed as she looked around, "Now, let's see, Luthur, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Five, Vanya. Me... We just need Ben now."

"He's here, don't worry." Klaus smiled. Y/N saw Vanya and smiled.

"I can't believe I have sisters." Vanya smiled, coming downstairs and giving the both of them a hug. Klaus came over and gave the three of them a hug.

"Oh, that's so sweet." He cried.

"No, Jesus." Allison said, pushing him away playfully.

"Hi." Vanya said, her voice muffled.

"Hey, Vanny." Klaus kissed her head and let go.

"Klaus, is Ben here?" Five asked.

"Oh, uh, no... Unfortunately ghosts can't time travel." Klaus said. Y/N sighed, he was clearly lying and she could basically hear Ben yelling at Klaus.

"Alright then, let's get started." Five and everyone else filed up the stairs to the loft.

“It’s nice to see you again, Vanya.” Y/N smiled and Vanya nodded.

“It’s nice to see you again as well. Even though I don’t really remember you, you seem nice.” Vanya said and Y/N’s heart swelled with warmth.

"Alright, first off, I wanna say I'm sorry. I know I screwed the pooch on this whole going-back-in-time-and-getting-stuck thing." Five apologized, looking at Y/N for a bit before looking at all of them. "But the real kick in the pants here is we brought the end of the world back here with us."

"Oh my god, again?" Klaus gasped before looking at everyone, "All of you knew? Why am I the last one to find out about the end of- Oh my god, my cult is gonna be so pissed. Five, I told them we had until 2019." Klaus complained.

"Klaus starting a cult was not on my list of things that we end up doing throughout the universe... " Y/N muttered to herself.

"We have until Monday. We have six days." Five said, glaring at Klaus.

"Is it Vanya?" Klaus asked, taking a drink of liquor out of a red cup.

"Klaus."

"What, it's usually Vanya." Klaus sighed.

"Do you have any leads, Five?" Vanya asked, trying to get to the topic at hand.

Diego handed him a file, "Yeah, we have one." Five said and handed the file to Allison. She gasped.

"Holy shit, is that dad?" Allison asked.

"Yeah." Diego sighed.

"That's him?" Vanya asked, surprised that her adoptive father was the cause of the world ending once again. Y/N sighed.

"Standing on the grassy knoll." Diego said.

"Diego and I have been trying to talk to dad about what this means." Five said. "So far, we g ot nothing."

"Can't I just-" Y/N snapped her fingers and the lamp next to Diego was crushed flat, "Kill him?"

"We're not killing dad, if we kill him, there's a chance that the future changes and we won't exist in 2019." Five said. Y/N thought for a moment before nodding, he wasn't wrong.

"He's planning to kill Kennedy." Diego mentioned.

"Maybe, but we don't know what or who sets doomsday into motion." Five said and placed the file back onto the table, "Could be Kennedy, could be something entirely different. But if we know something changes the timeline, we have to make it right."

"Yeah, but how're we supposed to fix it if we don't know what's broken?" Allison asked.

"Oh, come on. Do the math." Diego said. "We know dad's having shady-ass meetings with shady-ass people. We know he's on the grassy knoll in three days to kill the president. So I think we all know what we have to do."

"Find dad." "Kill dad." Both Diego and Five said. Y/N raised her hand.

"I'll kill him. Since he's trained all of us, he knows all of our combat moves which means that it can't be Diego or Luther. It can't be Allison because I believe she has a range on her rumoring and dad's pretty good with long range as well, Vanya probably doesn't remember her powers, Klaus is too high to do anything which means..." Y/N pointed to herself, "I get to kill him."

"How do you think so fast?" Diego asked.

"We're not killing dad, Y/N."

"I'm just saying that if we do, I'll kill him." Y/N shrugged, "And you guys can stab the body- if there is one left- if you wanna take your anger out on him."

"None of us are supposed to be here, right? So, what if it's us?" Vanya asked, "Has anyone here done anything to screw up the timeline?"

"Diego's been stalking Lee Harvey Oswald." Luther said after a moment of silence.

"And you're working for Jack Ruby."

"Allison has been very involved in some local politics."

"Okay, you started a cult."

"I'm... I'm just a... Nanny on a farm." Vanya shrugged. Y/N patted her back.

"Well I think we all know it's not Vanya." Y/N smiled reassuringly.

"What about you, Cici? You got any confessions?" Allison asked. The girl shrugged.

"I mean, I’ve been pretty chill. Don’t think I’ve done anything crazy recently.” Y/N frowned.

"Well, maybe you do, you just don't know it yet." Allison said.

"That could be said about each of us though." Y/N countered. Diego suddenly whistled sharply and they all turned their heads towards him.

"Listen to yourselves, everything in our lives has been connected to Kennedy's." Diego said, "That can't be a coincidence. Luther works for Ruby, Allison is protesting against the government, Dad is on grassy knoll, Klaus is... Doing something weird and pervy but probably related as well. See, clearly, we were all sent here for one special reason: saving John Fitzgerald Kennedy."

"Actually, we were sent here to escape the apocalypse from 2019 but you can think that Diego." Y/N said and Allison handed her the bottle of liquor.  “But I don’t think Five’s gonna let you save your little boyfriend.”

Diego started yelling at Y/N before Allison chimed in, Vanya tried to diffuse the tension and soon everyone was arguing. It reminded Y/N of when we were kids. The overwhelming feeling, the overstimulation of the voices... All the good stuff. 

"Guys, you all die. I was there. I saw it. And I wanna forget it, but I can't. I saw Russian nukes vaporize the world with all of you in it... In a war that never happened until we brought it here." Five said, "And Hazel gave his life to save us, so you may need to shut up and just listen to me. I don't know if the things we experienced here are all connected. I don't know if there's a reason for everything. But dad will. We need to talk to him before everything and everyone we know is dead."

"Okay, I'm out." Luther said, getting up from his chair.

"Did you even hear me, Luther?" Five asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." Luther said, "I heard a 50-year-old-man who still wants his daddy to come back and fix everything. Well, you can count me out. It's time we all grew the hell up."

"I'm starting to think that we should all get therapists." Y/N sighed and downed the rest of the liquor from the bottle.

"Hey, where're you going?" Diego asked, following Luther out of the house. Five jumps in front of Luther and sighed.

"No one leaves until we figure this out." Five said. Luther stared at Five before throwing him off the railing, Five blinked away so he couldn't get hurt.

Y/N sighed as Klaus, Allison, and Vanya stood up. Vanya turned to Y/N and held out her hand for her to take, "Are you coming?"

She smiled, taking her hand. "Sure."

_____________________________________________________

Allison growled before shaking her head, "The nerve of that man. I mean, one thing goes wrong, and he's on a warpath. I mean, doesn't know who I am? No, no. No, Ray, you know exactly who I am. You just can't handle it!"

"You want some relationship advice, Allison?" Y/N asked as she spun around in the chair next to Klaus.

Klaus gasped, "Oh, yes! She gives the best advice on everything, Allison."

"Really?" Allison turned to Y/N and the girl nodded, "Wow, okay... Well, shoot."

"From what I've gathered from the thirty minutes of you venting to us, I can tell that you don't want this marriage, something you're actually happy about, to turn into your old marriage." Y/N said, "Clearly, Ray doesn't trust you because he doesn't know if he knows you." Y/N stood up, taking the bottle from Allison, "Allison, really focus on what Ray is saying without planning your response, share your feelings and thoughts openly. Honesty builds trust, but it's important to express yourself in a respectful and non-accusatory way. And also, it depends if you actually want to listen to your husband or if you just want everything to be swept under a rug.”

"Why're you so good at this? I mean, have you ever been in a relationship before?" Allison asked.

"Yes, it was her and Five for that one time, remember?" Klaus whispered to Allison. The dark-skinned woman turned to Y/N, who was drinking straight from the bottle.

"You and Five were a thing?!" Allison exclaimed. Vanya turned her chair.

"We never were a thing! Why does everyone think that?" Y/N sighed. Vanya suddenly spoke up.

"Well, you look at each other like how Sissy and I look at each other." Vanya said, "Like you guys warm each other up, like two pieces of a puzzle."

Y/N stayed silent as she spun around her chair some more, deep in thought as she remembered all those... Glances and hand holding… “We’re nothing like that.” She simply said and Klaus and Allison exchanged looks of confusion and suspicion.

"Is the world really gonna end in six days?" Vanya suddenly asked.

"Well, it did last time, and we did everything Five could think of to stop it." Allison said. Y/N pursed her lips.

"And I think you guess how well that went, Vanny." Y/N said, stopping the chair she was spinning and taking a drink from the bottle.

"Hey, wouldn't it be weird if Y/N or Five grew up all hot?" Klaus asked. Y/N turned to him.

"I'm right here, Klaus."

"Eww!" Allison said as Klaus got up from the salon chair.

"'Oh, ew, ew'. Please, Miss 'Luther was my lover'." Klaus mocked while making kissing noises.

"We have never kissed!" Allison yelled.

"Yeah, but you guys were making little moon-dog eyes at each other." Klaus said, "All through puberty and breakfast and all that."

"Aren't we all brothers and sisters? Or..." Vanya's voice trailed off and Allison tried to explain herself while Klaus made fun of her.

"Well, what about Five and Y/N?" Allison asked.

"When was I in the conversation?" Y/N asked. Klaus scoffed, clearly drunk and high.

"Well, actually, Y/N wasn't exactly adopted. She was there for 'school purposes' so it doesn't count." Klaus giggled.

"Okay, can... Can we focus?" Allison asked, "I mean, clearly we're not saving the world tonight but maybe, maybe we could at least try to save my marriage."

"You want more advice?" Y/N asked.

"No! No, because that's like... That's like asking a nun how to hump a leg." Klaus stumbled. "I mean, who in this room knows shit about relationships, this one?" Klaus pointed to Vanya, "In secret love with some farm Frau."

"Her name's Sissy."

"Which is an improvement on her previous love interest, the serial killer." Klaus said as Allison shook her head not to say anything. Y/N sighed.

"What?!" Vanya exclaimed.

"We'll tell you later, Vanya. Don't worry it's not as bad as you think it is." Y/N said reassuringly.

"Meanwhile, I'm carrying a torch... For a soldier I haven't technically met yet." Klaus raised his flask, "And Luther is... In love with his sister."

"Okay, again, we are not biological." Allison said.

"Face it, the healthiest long-term relationship in this family was when Five was banging that mannequin." Klaus said, "Or, when we were kids and Five used to hang out in Y/N's room while they were being nerds and banging each other!"

"I wouldn't say that was the healthiest relationship. If we're talking platonic-wise, it was you and Ben." Y/N smiled, choosing to ignore his comment about her and Five ‘banging’.

Klaus paused before giggling, "Thanks, Cici! See, Cici always makes everyone feel better even though she never feels good herself!"

"Okay, I take it back." Y/N groaned.

"The only thing the Umbrella Academy knows about love, is how to screw it up." Klaus raised his flask. Y/N raised the half empty bottle in her hand.

"Amen." Y/N chuckled.

"How do you guys deal with this?" Vanya asked, "I mean, all of it. The time travel, seeing the dead, the end of the world."

"Well, I get really high." Klaus said, sitting down, "Allison... Allison... Lies to herself." Allison kicked a chair towards him. "Y/N likes to... Uh... Kill people." Y/N threw the empty bottle at Klaus, which shattered on the floor. "And you suppress your emotions deep, deep down until you... Blow shit up."

"Yeah, I'd really like to not do that anymore." Vanya said.

"Well you've got six days, missy." Klaus smiled.

"What the hell are we supposed to do in six days?" Allison asked.

"Fuck up our lives in the 60s before saving the world and leaving it all behind to go back to 2019?" Y/N suggested.

"I'm gonna tell Sissy that I love her." Vanya sat up straight, "I don't want any secrets."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! You're right." Allison realized, "Yes, cause, you know, if... If it's all gonna go tits-up, the least I could do is be honest with my husband!"

"Oh... Does that mean I'm gonna have to face my cult?" Klaus asked. Y/N sighed as Vanya smiled at her.

"And that also means..." Vanya's voice trailed off. Y/N frowned.

"No."

"Yes."

"He doesn't even like me like that!"

"So you admit that you like him?" Vanya teased, "Weren't you just saying that honesty builds trust?"

Y/N sighed, rubbing her face, "Fine. But Klaus still has to face his cult."

"I just hate group breakups. It's why I stopped dating twins." Klaus sighed.

"This family's amazing!" Vanya said, raising her arms up high. Klaus and Allison chuckled as Klaus walked up to the woman and put his arm around her.

"C'mon, Vanya!" Allison smiled, "You too Y/N!" Y/N and Vanya both joined the drunken group and laughed together as they squeezed into a big hug.

_____________________________________________________

"Five?" Y/N called out. Five turned and frowned.

"What're you doing here?" Five asked. Y/N shrugged.

"I got a letter from this old dude." Y/N said as they both walked up the glass stairs together.

"Hm, makes sense." Five nodded, "So do you think the rest of our family got the letter?"

"I dunno, I went back to Elliot's place and the letter was just handed to me." The girl explained as she entered the elevator and ruffled her hair slightly.

"Well, you look nice." Five said. Y/N turned to Five.

"I... Always look like this?" Y/N said with a slightly confused expression. Before Five could say anything, the rest of the family suddenly filed into the elevator. After a while, a foul scent filled the enclosed space.

"Oh..." Allison gagged after sniffing the air.

"Oof." Five and Vanya spoke disgustedly.

"Luther!"

"Oh, my God."

“I’m killing myself.”

"Sorry, I'm nervous." He apologized shortly followed by the elevator dinging and all of them fighting for breath to get out of the elevator and away from Luther.

"Alright, when dad gets here, I'll do the talking." Five said as they entered a restaurant called the 'Tiki Lounge'.

"I've got a few questions myself." Diego said. Y/N took her coat off and sat next Five, brushing out her hair with her fingers nervously.

"Hey, we don't wanna scare him off." Five said, "He might be able to help us stop doomsday and get home."

"No, Five. We need to figure out why he's planning to kill the president." Diego disagreed.

"This is a matter of life and death, you imbecile." Five insulted as all of their family members sat down at the circular shaped table.

"Okay, yeah, maybe we should take turns talking." Vanya said before looking around and grabbing a (probably plastic) shell off of one of the tables, "Here, whoever has got this conch shell gets to talk."

"Why is Vanya having to use her nanny skills on grown adults?" Y/N asked to herself, cracking her back on the chair.

"Vanya, we don't have time for a debate." Five said, clearly stressed. Whether it was seeing his father again or the end of the world, no one really knew. But Cici knew that he had his thinking face on.

"Maybe I should lead." Allison said, taking the conch shell from Vanya, "We all know I'm a much better public speaker than the rest of you."

"Okay, Daddy's girl." Diego commented.

"Oh, jealous, Number Two?" Allison asked mockingly.

"Hey, no numbers." Diego snapped, "No more bullshit we're Team Zero."

"Umbrella Academy sounds better." Y/N said and Diego turned to her.

"I thought you hated it?" Diego asked and Y/N shrugged with a ‘I know but it sounds badass.’

"It has a nice ring to it." Y/N said and Diego sighed.

"Uh, Diego and Y/N." Luther interrupted, "You don't have the conch." He smiled innocently. Whether it was a fake one that was mocking them or a real one, Y/N couldn't tell. Diego nodded before grabbing it from Allison's hand and launching it away, causing it to shatter. Suddenly, the door opened to reveal... Reginald Hargreeves.

The old man quickly wasted no time into getting seated, "Not only have you burglarized my lab, set my chimp loose, conned your way into the Mexican consulate, repeatedly stalked and attacked me, but you have, on numerous occasions, called me..."

Klaus sat down next to him with a martini in hand, obviously drunk, and smiled. "Hey, Pop. How's it hangin'?"

"... Dad." Reginald said with a frown, "My reconnaissance tells me you're not CIA, not KGB, certainly not M15, so... Who are you?"

Everyone opened their mouths, but nothing came out as they didn't know how to explain to him that they were his... Future children. "We're your children." Five said, adjusting himself in his seat. Reginald turned to him sharply. "From the future. In 1989, you adopted us and trained us to fight against the end of the world. Called us the Umbrella Academy."

"Yeah, and you were an asshole of a father." Y/N mumbled under her breath and Five kicked her leg. She winced and kicked him back before Reginald spoke again.

"Why would I adopt seven-"

"Eight. One of us isn't here." Allison said.

"Dead." Diego said, which seemed to speak enough words on its own, "One of us is dead."

"Yeah, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba." Klaus suddenly said and everyone turned to each other, if he was talking to himself then Ben was definitely there... Somewhere, "Enough of that now."

"Enough of that now. Regardless, what would possess me to adopt seven ill-mannered malcontents?" Reginald asked curiously.

"We all have special abilities." Y/N said

"Special? In what sense?" Reginald asked curiously.

"In the superpower sense." Luther sighed, probably remembering how Reginald shanked his heart earlier the following year.

"Called me old-fashioned, but I'm a stickler for a pesky little thing called evidence. Show me." Reginald said.

"Everybody wants to see powers all of a sudden." Allison scoffed, taking a sip of her drink from the tiki cup.

"We're not circus animals, okay? We're not gonna bounce balls on our noses and clap our hands like seals for your amusement." Luther said, clearly aggravated. He spent so long being Reginald's number one, his top child, and then was thrown out when he went to him for help.

 Y/N felt... Sad for him. Even if she was never close to him, she'd feel bad for anyone who felt as if their life was just thrown away.

Diego suddenly throws one of his knives, aiming for Reginald, but nearly misses him as he's able to angle it to one of the wooden beams. The knife gets stuck in the wall with a metallic thud. Reginald purses his lips, clearly not fazed, before writing something down in his notebook that Y/N noticed he had earlier. "What are you writing?" Diego asked.

"You are zero for two, young man." Reginald said and Allison snickered. Diego's face turned to anger and he quickly went to go over to him before Five teleported to him and stopped him.

"Stop." Five whispered.

"Now that is interesting." Reginald commented.

"Alright, quick run-down." Five said and started to come back to his seat. "Luther: Super strength, Klaus can commune with the dead, Allison can rumor anyone to do anything-"

"Except she never uses it." Diego said as he sat down.

"I heard a rumor that you punched yourself in the face." Allison said and Diego's eyes turned white before he punched himself.

Vanya and Y/N looked at each other with a smirk before Reginald asked Vanya, "And you?"

"Uh, maybe we don't take Vanya for a test run." Luther said.

"Oh, yeah, that's probably not a good idea." Klaus said, his voice starting to slur from the drinks.

“I say it’s a great idea.” Y/N chimed in with a smile.

"It's fine." Vanya said as she picked her fork up, "I can handle it."

As everyone started to protest against it, Vanya clinked the glass and seemed to aim the sound towards the large fruit display in the middle of the table.  Y/N chuckled as Vanya looked at her with a smile before the fruit splattered on everyone, Y/N hiding herself from the fruit by ducking down. 

"Oops." Vanya said with a mischievous smile. Y/N clapped before taking a sip of her drink with a satisfied smile.

"You, young lady." Reginald pointed to Y/N, who brushed a piece of fruit off of her shoulder. "What can you do?"

"Telekinesis. Or gravity control. Whatever you’d like to call it, I suppose." Y/N said as she snapped her fingers and the exploded pieces of fruit seemed to float back onto the table.

"Impressive." Reginald muttered and wrote another note down into his notebook. For some reason, Y/N felt off. Seeing her father after years and years was messing with her head, she was older now (at least mentally) and she felt as if she knew that her childhood was... Wrong. 

And she couldn't help but use that wrongness and turn it into anger... And using that anger into her power which made it harder to control. It hurt her.

The girl's hand shook slightly as she dug her nails into her thigh. Five noticed and took her hand into his. Y/N breathed in slowly, trying not to scream as Diego argued with his father.

 "That's you. That's two days from now on the grassy knoll at the exact spot the president's gonna get shot." Diego said as he placed a picture of Reginald to the... Present Reginald? Circe was sort of confused.

"Well... I suppose you've solved it. You've single-handedly unearthed my nefarious plot. Is that what you want to hear? You fancy yourself a do-gooder? The last good man who will save us from our descent into corruption and conspiracy?" Reginald asked and Y/N watched Diego's face turn from anger to... Loneliness. To sadness. "This is a fantastic delusion. The sad reality is that you're a desperate man, tragically unaware of his own insignificance, desperately clinging to his own ineffectual reasoning. More succinctly, a man in over his head."

Y/N clenched her hand around Five's and her eyes had a slight yellow glow to it. She felt... Angry. She hadn't felt like this since Luther suffocated Vanya and locked her in a room.

"You're w... Wrong." Diego stuttered, tears falling down his eyes as he sat down. Oh god that stutter broke her heart even more... Y/N started to speak before Five shook his head. Despite her better judgment, she held her tongue. If she got too mad, she might actually blow Reginald's head off.

"Look, forget about the president. We have a catastrophic war coming in five days. We need to figure out how to stop it." Five said and Y/N sighed as she saw Diego's tears.

Y/N sucked in a shaky breath as she took a sip from her drink. Too many emotions for one to handle tonight. Maybe she should've just stayed home.

"Men will always be at war with each other." Reginald said.

"No, this isn't just some war. I'm talking about a doomsday. The end of the world." Five said.

"Well... You're the special ones, aren't you? Why don't you band together and do something about it?" Reginald asked.

Suddenly, Klaus started choking and Y/N felt something shift in the room. Like a cool breeze, but something familiar. "I'm..." Klaus gurgled.

"Out with it, boy." Reginald said.

He started gasping, as if he needed air, before saying something Y/N couldn't believe, "Ben!"

Klaus panted harshly before falling to the floor. Five felt Y/N stiffen in his hand as he saw her seem to... Freeze. As if she was deep in thought but her thoughts were going faster than she could calculate. "Well... Thank you for coming. I've seen about enough." Reginald said as he stood up and started to leave, walking over Klaus's unconscious body.

"No, I..." Luther's voice trailed off before he gritted his teeth and slammed onto the table before standing up and ripping his shirt to reveal his ape body. "Look at what you did to me! Look at it!"

"Oh, shit. Why?" Five muttered and Y/N's other hand started to dig into her thigh.

"You in the culottes and you with the short hair. A word, in private?" Reginald said to the two holding hands.

They quickly got up, Y/N pulling her hand away from his as they followed him to the elevator. Five looked at Y/N as he gestured to Reginald and Y/N rolled her eyes. Five raised his eyebrows expectantly and she sighed. 

"You two. Come." Reginald said as the elevator doors opened and they went to the bar. "You two seem to be the sensible of the bunch." Reginald said.

"That's because we're the oldest." Five said and Reginald made a confused face. "Y'know, technically, I'm older than you right now."

"Oh... That's so weird to think about... I don't wanna think about that, Five." Y/N sighed as she took a drink of her martini.

"Cognac?" Reginald asked as Five smiled slightly.

"Just a smidge."

"I think you two get along well." Y/N said, "Maybe you should've just invited him instead of all of us."

"The other night you quoted Homer at me. Why?" Reginald asked.

"You forced us to learn it as kids." Five said, adjusting into his seat.

"In the original Greek." Y/N added.

"This world ends in five days if we don't get out of the timeline."

"Worlds end. Paleozoic, Jurassic, and so on."

"We can do something about this one." Five said determinedly.

"Man's greatest flaw: the illusion of control." Reginald quoted.

"Except we're not all men." Y/N crossed her arms with a slight smile.

"We need your help, all right? You're our last sane option. Otherwise, I- We gotta make a deal that I really don't wanna make." Five said.

"She came back?" Y/N asked and Five nodded with a sigh. "I think she's still flirting with you, Five."

"Yeah, you think?" Five sighed, taking a sip of his drink before turning back to Reginald. "What do you know about time travel?"

"In theory?"

"In practice."

"I know it's akin to descending blindly into the depths of freezing waters and reappearing-" Reginald was interrupted by Y/N.

"As an acorn." She finished, "We've both heard it millions of times. Five more than me but every time he tried, I was there."

"What transpired when you tried traveling before?" Reginald asked.

"I botched it." Five admitted.

"How?"

"I jumped too far forward, got stuck in the future for 45 years in an apocalypse.

Then I jumped too far backwards... Except this time I brought my entire family with me." Five sighed and Y/N nodded.

"Maybe your appetite is disproportionate to the size of your abilities. Start small. Seconds, not decades." Reginald said.

"Seconds?"

"Mhm."

"Look, no offense, but I need a bit more time for what I'm trying to accomplish." Five said, getting a bit more agitated.

"Seconds could be good. The world could end, and you'd find out what causes it by that point. You go back in time for a few seconds, and kill it before the world actually ends." Y/N said and Five sucked in a breath. She was sort of right, wasn't she?

"The young lady is correct. So much can change in a matter of seconds. One could overthrow an empire. One could fall in love." Five risked a glance at Y/N, who smiled, before turning back to Reginald. "An acorn doesn't become an oak overnight."

[revenantghost]

What fics have you been reading recently?

Not as many as I'd like between bookclub and finally having access to the Tristamp dub! I do try to remember (and often forget) to bookmark my favs on AO3, but tonight's lineup has been really fun so let me grab them for you:

kinder, gentler by skittidyne (VW, WIP, been my favorite WIP since Tristamp was airing, can't recommend enough)

Vash goes through another life. He's done it enough to be pretty good at it, these days. They're getting easier, even if "easier" means a string of murders while trying to make friends anew. Not his usual bullet-ridden trouble, but this is meant to be a kinder, gentler life, after all.

Tomaship by museq (gen, one-shot, a fun little read)

A cute little oneshot where horse girl, teenage Vash learns how to ride a thomas with Brad.

two eggs, over easy by AllegedlyAnnie (VW, WIP, first chapter was posted of this not too long ago, I love the author's work, and this is SO GODDAMN FUNNY, I can't wait for more)

I (30M) keep getting into fights with a cook at Waffle House. --- "Uh, hey, 'scuse me?" Nick calls out toward the kitchen. "Sorry?" the cook asks. He comes over, and Nick gets a good look at spiky blonde hair and fathomless blue eyes framed by lashes like clock springs. "Was there something wrong?" And okay. So Nick might have a thing for a tall blonde with a dancer's figure. A man likes what he likes. With an effort he usually reserves for life-and-death scenarios, he forces himself to smile and says, "Is this your first day?" "No? Why do you ask?" "I asked for my eggs over easy." The cook glances at Nick's table, now holding six different eggs cooked three different, incorrect ways, and Nick can see in his eyes the exact moment he decides the next thing he'll say. His brow furrows into a faux quizzical expression. "I don't see the problem," he answers.

Fenrir by eshtaresht (gen but V&W-centric, one-shot, this was a very beautifully worded and created piece, I do love me a bit of whump)

He opens his mouth slowly, making a show of his sharp canines. Just so they’re clear on that. Without a word, Vash puts his arm inside the toothy trap. Pushes it deep, back to the very molars, making him breath through the nose to avoid gagging. Belts taste of gunpowder and sand. His tongue stumbles on a metal buckle, but his teeth feel only the satisfying give of worn leather. And, if he presses deeper, skin. ______________ or, Wolfwood goes a bit too feral and gets telepathically poetry blasted

[goodluckclove]

The Best Scrambled Eggs in the World

Katy made the mistake of telling me that she thinks leeks are superfluous as a vegetable, and so I'm writing this here as concrete evidence of her being wrong and bad on both a factual, ethical, and philosophical level.

Leeks are fantastic. They're like kinder onions. Here's a recipe I make a lot, as it happens to be one of the only things I can do with eggs that doesn't end up terrible.

You'll need:

One bunch leeks

Maybe like two bunches of green onion? I like green onion

Crumbled goat cheese

Bunch of eggs, amount depending on how much scramble you want

Brown sugar

Red wine vinegar

Salt

Pepper

Garlic powder

Onion powder

Butter (For sautéing!)

So what you do first is clean and chop the leeks. You only need the whites of the leeks, not the long leafy parts. I like to cut my trunks (I call them trunks, I think that's funny) into halves so I can slice them better into sort of half-moons. People say you only need the whites of the green onions too, but I use all of them. As I said before, I really like green onion.

So you want to sauté that your leeks and green onions in a pan with some butter. Just an amount of butter. The goal is to get them nice and soft, and while that's happening you should go ahead and salt and pepper them. You should salt and pepper all vegetables as you cook them, just on principle. I go ahead and add some garlic powder and onion powder. You could technically substitute this by adding minced garlic and actual sliced onion, but I tend to stick with what works for me as soon as I figure it out, and it was this.

The thing that makes it special for me is the brown sugar and the red wine vinegar. It sounds crazy, but adding what I feel amounts to making most of a tablespoon of brown sugar (or like three medium pinches) sprinkled over your veggies, as well as a splash of red wine vinegar, adds a really unique depth that I always love.

Once your leeks are sweaty (gross phrasing, but true), you can lower the heat and crack in your eggs. I think six usually makes a good serving for two people if you're particularly hungry or drunk. People are divisive on how they make their scrambled eggs, but I like to crack them in a bowl ahead of time and just pour the whole mixture in for even cooking. That's just what I do.

You don't need to add a fat if you sauteed in enough butter. Mix until cooked to your liking, and then take it fully off the heat and add in as much goat cheese as you want. You could just top it on the plate, but I enjoy mixing a lot in and letting the heat of the eggs melt it.

After that you can just scoop it in a bowl and eat it up. You can also use this as filling with pastry cups or served with croissants. It's super filling and reheats pretty well - but be aware that microwaving it will further cook the eggs.

Enjoy, I guess!

-Edgar

who is this? why is this happening? check out the pinned post on my blog to learn more!

[gobletofmilk]

top ten things at my desk that i fidget with instead of doing my job that i get paid for. despicable me 2 on blu ray for scale

#10 this little guy

he glows in the dark! he's just a little guy

#9 this blown fuse from my car

this thing stopped my headlight from working for a whole year. what a silly little guy!

#8 mini coat hanger

why'd they make this why do i have this how did i get this? it just appeared one day?

#7 lizard from kinder

i got this lizard guy from a kinder egg that my favourite high school teacher gave me like six years ago. it's just a little guy actually

#6 empty chapstick

the bin is too far away (right next to me)

#5 broken keychain

my friend got me this keychain from india and it is great but it broke off but at least i can hold it instead of doing my job

#4 woodstock

woodstock

ok now we are getting to the big three, you have no idea how important these are to me i would die for these

#3 broken pringles lid

i love this thing i like fold it and it makes a little sound, it keeps me going you know

#2 little weights from my brothers gaming mouse

what are these? i don't know exactly how they're supposed to work but i love holding them and jingling them and getting worried about putting them on my phone screen accidentally and breaking the screen or something idk if that is possible but it freaks me out but not enough to not play with them i do it so much

#1 sim ejector tool

love this thing, can't explain it. just lots of fun, hours of fun. i'd buy a new phone just to get one of these that's how much i love it

[edraculation]

i had a meltdown earlier and my mom gave me six kinder eggs to console me so you could say im basically rich

[blazingstarship]

I got six winx kinder suprise eggs😁 wanted to get all figures and wanted Bloom so badly. Got her in the first egg! The second egg I opened was Flora…the two others were Bloom and Flora too and my second last was finally Stella! So I have 2 Blooms, 2 Floras and 1 Stella. Idk what’s in the last egg but Idk if my friend wants to have one egg too so Im saving it for now.

[mikasimaginairyworld]

The Umbrella Academy: Firecracker - Valhalla (15/30)

The Umbrella Academy Masterlist

warnings: substances (alcohol)

word count: 3678

"You know, I'm starting to get the feeling that dad' avoiding us.", Five said as he Lila, Diego and Nailah watched Reginald's car drive away.

"Hate to be the boring one guys, but it's time to get. the hell out of here.", Lila said seeing security slowly show up.

"When you say 'we' who exactly are you referring to?", Five asked with a biting tone.

Nailah shot Five a warning look but he ignored her.

"Not a lot of ambiguity in that sentence.", Lila scoffed.

"Listen, I don't know who you are but where you came from, but whatever it is, I advise you to return posthaste.", Five spat at Lila with a dangerous spark in his eyes.

"She's right, Five. We need to get out of here.", Diego tried to intervene.

"I just saved your life you kinder-shit.", Lila said offended at Five's accusations. "If I hadn't stepped in all that would be left of you is that pretty suit your girlfriend bought you."

Five scoffed: "And that's the problem. You're too good. You ask too many questions. You know too much. And you fight like you know what you're doing."

"Five.", Nailah warned.

"No, no. He's got a point.", Diego agreed.

"So I know how to handle myself, and that makes me the bad guy?", Lila asked offended.

"Whoever you are, you're in my way. If I see you again I will kill you.", Five announced.

Nailah walked away annoyed at Five's carelessness muttering something about God testing her. Five's judging gaze lingered a moment longer on Lila then he followed his sister.

Even though Nailah was short she made huge steps and Five had to jog lightly to catch up to her.

"Why are you mad?", he asked confused.

"Seriously, Five? I told you mere hours ago: control yourself and don't give out too much information. And what do you do? You just revealed your greatest advantage, that you don't trust her."

"So? Now she's out of my way."

"Oh my God, Five. This is literally the most rookie mistake you can make. I really expected more form the apparently best assassin in the whole timeline.", Nailah scoffed. 

Back at Elliott's house where Luther was making a gigantic pan of eggs Diego kept muttering: "No, no, no I don't understand. They keep following me."

"Who?", Luther asked.

"Those Dutch psychopaths."

"They're Swedish you idiot.", Five corrected leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. "Hired guns paid to eradicate us before we do any more damage to this timeline."

"Great. Why don't you call them and tell them we're here? Sine you like to eradicate any scrape of our advantage.", Nailah commented venomously pouring herself a cup of coffee. Five followed her figure but kept his lips pressed in a fine line. Nailah hummed in satisfaction.

"Yeah, but why now?  I mean I was fine for three, four months before you showed up.", Diego snapped his fingers in frustration while ignoring Nailah's comments.

"Yeah, I was here for a year and no one messed with me.", Luther agreed.

"Same here. Quite like a grave.", Nailah added taking a sip from her coffee.

Five inhaled annoyed: "Even if it was my fault, which it isn't, we only have six days before the end of the world, and the closest we've gotten to dad was that driveway at the consulate."

"Well, that's not entirely true...", Luther admitted. He explained to his siblings how right after he had arrived in Dallas he began saving money and as soon as he had enough he travelled to their family home. He found Reginald hosting parties and with a raging hatred for children. Apparently he insulted Luther and threw him out.

"That's pathetic.", Diego commented at the end of the story.

"Yeah, well at least he didn't shank my ass.", Luther bit back shovelling his scrambled eggs into his mouth. Nailah shuddered at the sight. She hated eggs with passion.

"No, bro. he shanked your heart. That's way worse.", Nailah said taking another sip of her coffee.

"God morning, Nailah. You look... nice.", Elliott said. Nailah threw him a confused smile. "Is that my bathrobe?", Elliott asked from the doorway looking at the garment Luther had put on. "No?", Luther tried.

"Look, who cares what he shanked? He knows something about time travel.", Five said.

"Wait, why don't you just do your thing and time travel us out?", Elliott asked raising his hand. 

"Anyone care to explain?", Five asked pacing around the room.

"First time he tried he got lost in the apocalypse. Second time he ended up as the 13-year old self, which I aged up, without getting any gratitude might I add. And the third time he tried our whole family ended up scattered across 3 years in Dallas.", Nailah explained.

​​​​​​​"Possibly triggering doomsday.", Five added.

"Oh. You aged him up?", Elliott asked.

Nailah shrugged: "Yeah. He's not the only smart one."

"Of course not. That's not what I was implying. I mean I knew you were smart, I just thinks it's impressive for you...", Elliott started to stutter.

Five interrupted him annoyed: ​​​​​​​"She gets it, Elliott."

Nailah shot Five an irritated glare: "I can speak for myself, Five. Thank you Elliott. It's nice to be appreciated.", The last part was again directed at Five accompanied by an expressive look.

"You're missing the big picture. Dad is the ringleader of a sinister cabal that's planning to kill the president.", Diego interrupted before Five could say something back.

"What?", Luther asked in between bites.

"Ignore him.", Five sighed. "Look, the way I see it we only have one option."

"Oh yeah? And what is that?", Luther scoffed.

"It's time to get the umbrella academy back together.", Five announced.

"Family meeting. Yay.", Nailah said dryly picking up an orange from the counter.

"Okay then, can one of you get Allison please?", Luther asked shoving even bigger bites of scrambled eggs from the seemingly never-ending portion.

"You two still a thing?", Diego asked with a knowing smirk.

Luther crooked his head. Diego leaned forward: "Do we need to talk."

"No, she's married.", Luther mumbled.

Nailah choked on her coffee: "What?"

"Whoa, dude. That's rough.", Diego commented.

Luther send him an ironic smile: "I can handle it."

Nailah wiped the coffee off her chin muttering: "How does she get a husband in every single timeline and I can't even get a date?"

Elliott began stammering again but before he could form any word he got interrupted by Five: "Don't even think about it Elliott. I'll go get Allison."

"Can you get Vanya without ehh, squeezing her to death?", Five threw at Luther walking past him while ignoring the sceptical look from Nailah.

"I'll try.", Luther answered dryly and Five blitzed away.

​​​​​​​"What should I do?", Elliott asked clearly hoping for a green signal from the other Hargeeves brothers.

​​​​​​​"Prepare for company.", Diego smiled. "Oh and listen to Five. Nailah's off limits."

Nailah scoffed but smiled lightly. She had missed the protectiveness of her siblings a slightest bit.

"Y'all know, jell-o used to be delicacy. You know, in order to make it you gotta boil down a whole mess of hooves, you know horses, cows, pigs, it doesn't matter. But not everybody just has a mess of hooves laying around. It wasn't until a couple of sassy New Yorkers figured out how to dry it out so the rest of us could have a chance to enjoy this ambrosia.", Elliott explained excitedly pointing at the colourful tray of jello-o in front of them on the table.

Luther had brought Vanya without triggering her powers and she was now sprawled on the couch with a bored expression. 

"if we have some, will you shut up?", Diego asked dryly.

"Maybe. Here. Nailah?", Elliott handed the disgusting looking food to Nailah.

"Thank you, Elliott, but I'm vegan.", she said trying to hide her disgusted face.

Diego scoffed: ​​​​​​​"Since when? I saw you yesterday devour a whole salami."

Nailah looked at him with venom in her eyes: "Since this morning."

"Oh, okay. Sorry.", Elliott said and handed the bowl to Luther who being Luther just accepted and began eating. 

"How you feeling?", Luther asked Vanya.

"Pretty shitty, to be honest."

"Where would you say you are on a scale from one to ending all life on this planet?", Diego asked flicking his knives.

"Really? That's what you chose to go with?", Nailah scoffed.

​​​​​​​"Diego, put the knife away, you idiot. She's fine.", Luther hissed.

​​​​​​​"The last time I saw this one she had me suspended mid-air sucking the life out of me with energy tentacles. I think I'm allowed a little time to process.", Diego pointed the knife at Luther.

Nailah fished it out of Diego's hand as Elliott intercepted: "I would love to see an energy tentacle."

"Shut up, Elliott.", Nailah, Diego and Luther said in a chorus.

​​​​​​​"Look, I don't remember what I did but I'm sorry. If it means anything.", Vanya said silently.

"It does.", Diego smiled at her lightly. "Just going through a lot right now."

"Oh my God.", Nailah mumbled leaning her head on her fist.

​​​​​​​"If you don't care you can just go.", Diego shot her an angry look.

​​​​​​​"Oh, I care. You just chose the perfect moment. But go on.", she bit back.

​​​​​​​"There's this girl that I like.", Diego continued. ​​​​​​​"I though she liked me but it turns out she just.."

Diego got interrupted by a knock on the front door. "Oh thank God.", Luther sighed quickly standing up.

The group stood on the balcony watching Allison and Klaus enter the building after Five. Both were completely drunk and kept mumbling word about death in French.

"Oh wow. I know this is impossible but did we all get sexier?", Klaus lulled taking off his sunglasses.

For a moment the siblings looked at each other. Klaus was maybe right. Diego had grown out his hair, which was a pretty daring change, Luther had finally found clothes that looked good on him, Vanya as well. And Nailah, well she'd always loved fashion and knew how to present herself.

Five's gaze flew over his siblings and with slight satisfaction he had to admit that Klaus indeed was right. His eyes stammered for a longer second on Nailah's wild curls covering her face. The 60s makeup and style suited her even though Five knew she absolutely hated the pants and blouses.

Diego chuckled lightly seeing Klaus and Nailah send Allison an air-kiss just as they had done when they were kids. "Vanya.", Allison sighed.

​​​​​​​"I can't believe I have another sister.", Vanya chuckled walking down the stairs to hug Allison. Nailah followed and after nodding as a response Allison's questioning look, Allison hugged Vanya back.

"Oh you are drunk.", Diego scoffed smelling Klaus' breath.

​​​​​​​"Yeah no, just a little, a few..", Klaus stammered and giggled. "Oh that's so sweet.", he grabbed his heart seeing Allison and Vanya hug. He wrapped his arms around them and waved for Nailah to join. 

"Klaus. Is Ben here?", Five asked. 

​​​​​​​"Oh, no. No, unfortunately ghosts can't time travel.", Klaus stretched his back. Nailah narrowed her eyes and crooked her head not really believing.

"All right then. Let's get down to business."​​​​​​​, Five announced not reacting to Nailah's questioning look. 

​​​​​​​"Alright, first off I wanna say I'm sorry.", Five began as soon as everyone had found a seat in the living room area at Elliott's. ​​​​​​​"I know I really screwed the pooch on this whole going-back-in-time-and-getting-stuck thing. But the real kick in the pants here is we brought the end of the world back with us."

"Oh my God, again?", Klaus explained pouring himself and Nailah a rather full glass of whiskey.

When he saw all the not surprised faces he sighed: "All of you knew? Why am I always the last one to find out about the end of the ... Oh my God! My cult is gonna be so pissed, Five! I told them we had until 2019."

"We have until Monday. Six days.", Five announced unphased. 

"Is it Vanya?", Klaus asked taking a sip.

"Klaus!", Allison exclaimed.

"Well, it is usually Vanya. No offence.", Nailah agreed taking her glass from Klaus.

"None taken.", Vanya smiled at Nailah. "Do you have any leads,  Five?"

"Only one.", Diego handed Five a file with the picture of Reginald Hargreeves on the grassy knoll. 

​​​​​​​"Diego, Nailah and I have been trying to talk to dad about what exactly this means. So far we've got nothing.", Five explained.

"Not nothing.", Diego intercepted to which Nailah groaned. ​​​​​​​"He's planning to kill Kennedy."

"Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. Really not important.", Nailah said in a sing-songy voice and took another great gulp from her glass.

Before Diego could answer Five interfered: ​​​​​​​"We don't know who or what sets doomsday in motion. Could be Kennedy, could be something entirely independent. But if we know something changes the timeline we have to make it right."

​​​​​​​"Yeah but how if we don't know what's broken?", Allison asked.

"Come on. Do the math. We know dad's having some shady-ass meetings with some shady-ass people. We know. he's on the grassy knoll in three days to kill the president. So I think we all. know what we have to do."

"Kill dad." "Find dad.", Diego and Five said at the same time and looked at each other confused. Nailah chuckled and Allison raised her eyebrows.

"None of us are supposed to be here right?", Vanya asked. "I mean what if it's us?  Has anyone here done anything to screw up the timeline?"

Klaus shook his head, Nailah crooked hers with her lips in a fine line, Diego stared at the carpet, Allison poured herself more vodka and Luther raised his eyebrows. Five sighed heavily and rubbed his temples.

​​​​​​​"Diego's been stalking Lee Harvey Oswald.", Luther admitted.

"You're working for Jack Ruby! And Nailah's an assassin!", Diego defended himself.

"Hey! I've never killed anyone important enough to mess with the timeline! You wanted to change the whole history!", Nailah send the accusation back to Diego.

"Allison's been very involved in local politics.", Klaus said.

"Okay, you started a cult.", she shot right back. Klaus growled at her and hissed.

​​​​​​​"I'm just a nanny on a farm. I don't have anything to do with all that.", Vanya said.

"Well, maybe you do we just don't know it yet.", Allison said.

"Yeah, for someone who just ended the world your life seems awfully... quiet.", Nailah added.

Diego whistled sharply making his siblings look in his direction: ​​​​​"Listen to yourselves. Everything in our new life is. connected to Kennedy. That can't be a coincidence. Luther works for Ruby, Allison's protesting against the government, Nailah's an assassin, dad on the grassy knoll, Klaus is... doing something weird and perky but probably related. See clearly we were all send here for one special reason: saving John Fitzgerald Kennedy."

Nailah laughed frantically at that while the rest of the siblings began arguing. Five just stood there with a concentrated look on his face.

"Guys, you all die.", Five admitted silently. ​​​​​​​"I was there, I saw it. And I wanna forget it but I can't. I saw Russian nukes vaporise the world with all of you in it in a war that never happened until we brought it here. And Hazel gave his life to save us, so you may need. to shut up and listen to me. I don't know if the things we've experienced here are all connected. I don't know if there's a reason for everything. But dad will. We need to talk to him before everyone and everything we know is dead."

​​​​​​​"Okay, I'm out.", Luther said and just left the room.

"Did you even hear me, Luther?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. I heard a 58-year old man who still wants his daddy to come and fix everything. Well, you can. count me out. It's time we all. grew the hell up."

Diego immediately followed him with Nailah not far behind. "Save it, Diego.", Luther snapped at them.

Five blitzed away and appeared before Luther on the stairs. "No one leaves until we figure this out.", he announced.

 Luther sighed and just threw Five over the railing. Five blitzed away before he could hit the ground. 

"Luther!", Nailah exclaimed sliding on the railing and waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. "What was that?"

"Oh come on. He had it coming."

Nailah shrugged: "Fair enough."

​​​​​​​"Where has all that heroism gone, big guy?", she asked.

"Well, I think I've left it back in 2019.", he answered.

"Come on, Luther. You can't just leave like that. We need you."

"I don't care, Nai."

Nailah let out a sigh. "Don't worry, I'll handle it.", Diego placed a hand on her shoulder and followed Luther.

Before Nailah could return upstairs she spotted Lila running down the street in red doc martens. Not soon after she saw Five follow. Without thinking much Nailah decided to follow them.

Nailah had been following Five who had been following Lila for over an hour. Finally Lila stopped at an old paintshop. She smashed the window of the door with a piece of wood and entered the industry part of the abandoned building. Five was quick to follow and blitzed inside. Nailah quietly opened the door and pressed herself against the wall. She peeked slightly into the corridor to see Five appears before Lila.

"What's your game, crazy lady?", he asked putting his hands in his pockets.

"Who cares? You said if you saw me again you'd kill me.", Lila smiled widely.

​​​​​​​"Oh, I remember.", Five chuckled darkly.

"Well, come on then big talker. Let's get this done."  

Five blitzed away appearing on Lila's other side. He kicked in the direction of her shin but she jumped aiming her leg at his head. Five ducked but she still got his nose. Five grunted in pain and Lila ran away chuckling. Five followed and soon he appeared in front of Lila again. Nailah kept a safe distance to them. She had a perfect view on them from behind the paint barrels while being certain they couldn't see her.

Five kicked, twirled in the air and kicked again towards Lila's face. She skilfully evaded all his attacks.  Five switched his turning direction and planted a kick towards Lila's face. Then he tried to punch her in the stomach, side and head but all attacks were blocked. Lila grabbed his jacket and rammed her knee into Five's stomach. Nailah felt her fingertips pickle. She was going to intervene if she saw Five needed help but she had to keep the advantage of her position as long as possible.

Lila tried again to kick Five in the face and he ducked, slid towards her and tried to make her lose balance. Nailah saw him deliver another series of punched. She grunted annoyed when she saw it was the same as moments ago. Rookie. 

Five kicked Lila in the stomach and she disappeared behind a table. Five followed but she was actually gone. Nailah ruffed her eyebrows. Five's gaze jumped to where she was hiding, clearly sensing her powers sucking in the heat in. from the room. He saw the sparks in her eyes and his corners twitched lightly. Nailah grinned back, her eyes now clearly full of fire. Nearly undetectably Five shook his head signalling for her to stay hidden. Nailah nodded.

"I'm waiting.", Lila chirped from another side of the room. Five twirled around.

He blitzed to the spot where Lila was but the only thing left after her was her laughter. Nailah's hiding spot didn't allow her to see how Lila had managed to do that.

"Fed up yet, Five?", Nailah only heard Lila's very annoying voice.

Five grabbed an old, rusty piped blitzed to the place where Lila had been standing. But he only managed to hit the power outlet letting sparks fly.

Lila appeared behind Five and aimed her leg at his head which he blocked. He ducked down and swooped his leg under hers making Lila fall down with a dull thump. Nailah nodded to herself. A basic, pretty amateur move but effective.

Five walked up to Lila and placed his boot on her throat.

​​​​​​​"You're better than I thought.", Lila wheezed.

"And you are entirely average.", Five scoffed with a smile. Nailah giggled soundlessly from her hiding spot. She liked this side of Five.

"You can come out now.", Five said.

Nailah twitched in her spot but before she could move slow clacking of heels stopped her. It was clear Five hadn't meant her.

A very weird woman with red heels, a long cigarette and an absolutely hideous coat appeared.  

"Well done.", she praised Five. "You figured it out."

"Well, it wasn't very hard.", Five scoffed looking at Lila under his boot. "She fights like every one of you commission drones."

Nailah nearly choked on her own saliva when the realisation hit her. This was The Handler. The one that had made Five kill people at the commission.

"Hmm. No matter. Here we are.", the Handler continued. "Together again. I've gotta ask. Did you miss me, you little shit?"

-> The Umbrella Academy Masterlist

Hello everyone!

Here we are at pretty much the halfway mark for this series. I would really appreciate any feedback/ reblog/ like you can offer. I would be especially interested what you think of Nailah and her dynamic with the siblings as well as if you think her character is well integrated.

Otherwise, thank you for reading and see you next part :)

[study-with-ves]

Okay so starting with the first pictures because I actually took them yesterday, recently I have been sitting in the library cafe and spending around an hour just reading legends and lattes while drinking a latte and honestly I can not reccomend it enough, you do not even have to go to a library cafe just any cafe it is just such an amazing atmosphere, I advise everyone to do it as an act of self care.

And I have two pieces of new, I will start with the good news.

1: I went to the local supermarket yesterday and found a kinder egg easter egg with a miraculous ladybug themed toy inside and because I have no self control, I of course bought it. And I have no regret. None at all. I got the generic Ladybug but I am so happy with it I love it so much and am very temptedd to buy another but knowing my luck I would probably just end up with duplicates.

2: So. I was planning to come into the library at around 08:30 this morning, but my plans were drastically changed when, at 08:00 am, just as i was opening my wardrobe door to get my clothes for the day, I made a harrowing discovery. A chonking-ass-spider. Huge. Not huge huge but spooky and it was in my room and near my clothes. So I went and got the spider glass that I so kindly donated to the kitchen cleaning cupboard so it could be used for any flatmate who found it necessary, and I uncovered the beast (that had taken to hiding underneath my rug) and I imprisoned it in the pint glass labelled 'SPIDER GLASS', and quickly retreated to my bed, shaking. I then messaged pictures of the fiend because I was too scared to move, and I stayed like that for around half an hour, and I even got a video of it pacing around inside of it's prison with stone talus boss battle music playing in the background (take good note of this music, it is what I always play if i am having a hard time defeating an enemy in a game, usually in the witcher, it always helps me beat them). So after eventually gaining the courage to move from where I sat, I made my way to the kitchen, and opened the window as wide as possible, ready for the eviction of the beast (ironically enough, the window in my bedroom has been taped shut because of a humongous spider that resides on the other side of it -a spider that looks suspisciously like this spooky man in the pint glass). By now, I had spent quite a while around this spooky little man, and so I decided to name him Alfred. I decided that if I ever wanted to get to the library, I would have to just get on with it, and go head to head with my fiercest foe yet. So, I turned up the boss music (which had to have been playing on loop for at least twenty minutes by this point) and I began to count down from thirty. As I did so, I took my door wedges and propped open both my and the kitchen door, and with six seconds left, I got my postcard in hand and prepared for battle. I should note that at this point I had begun to feel rather sorry for little Alfred, as after pacing for around ten minutes to begin with, he had just been waving at me through the glass, which while was utterly terrifying for me to witness, I can only imagine meant that he was pleading for escape. I also feel I should mention that, before I started this countdown, I spent a good few minutes discussing with Alfred why it would Be best for him to just co-operate and not make things any harder for either of us, and he seemed to take it well. And so, I shifted the glass and shimmied the postcard under it, Alfred stayed perfectly still, gripping slightly to the glass so he didn't have to shift himself too much as the postcard went under him, and it is a good job he did because with my shaking hands I did almost drop the postcard as I elevated him, which, with an angrier spider, would surely have resulted in a counter attack, perhaps he had developed stockholm syndrome, or perhaps it is because I implied I would press charges against him if for breaking into my room if he didn't fully co-operate. Anyway, he slid his little butt to the bottom of the glass and sat calmly as I walked him to the kitchen window, as I sang a song about our encounter, the lyrics to which I can no longer remember. As I removed the postcard and tipped the glass on its side, the song came to it's finale and he swiftly exited the glass (unlike some sticky, smaller spiders I have encountered who are for some reason insistent on sticking to the glass like it is their new home), and he gracefully plummeted to the grass below, and we parted ways (hopefully forever). It was at this point nine o'clock, and I spent the next forty minutes carefully examining and shaking all of my clothes and belongings before I could actually put them on and safely escape the room that Alfred had somehow managed to break into. I do not plan to return for many many hours, hopefully any other spiders will be gone by then. They should be, because just before I left I T-posed to assert dominance.

I did at last make it to the library, unscathed, and I chose not to include videos or imaged of Alfred so as not to scare anyone, but if anyone would like to see him please do let me know and I will post a picture of him, properly tagged so you can avoid it if necessary.

[bleak-eastern-plains]

1995

My story starts in 1995 in post-communist Romania, six years after the collapse of the Berlin Wall, four years after the collapse of the Soviet Union.

1st of January. Prices skyrocket 20 fold compared to 1994. People can barely afford basic necessities; defaults on credit become common place. The shock is too heavy. People die.

Factories close down, machines break down, the symbols of glory past are sold for scraps.

In 2023, 1 US dollar = 4.45 RON. In 1995; 1 US dollar = 2500 RON; (sevenfold rise since 1992)

One of the last symbols of communist resistance, Corneliu Coposu passes away. 100.000 people attend his funeral.

On June 22nd, Romania officially applied for EU candidacy. It would take another 12 years until Romania would be accepted in the European community. Even then, countries like the UK impose discriminatory treatments on the movement of people. Food for thought regarding Ukraine's ascension to the EU, a country destroyed by war and plagued by political corruption. The European Community was harshly skeptical of the non-soviet countries to begin with, even during times of peace and complete agreement.

Close to year end, I am born.

In the United States Ebay becomes public. The first DVD is released. In Romania, my parents count coins, trying to figure out whether to pay the loan for the TV or not. Prices for baby formula almost drive them to bankruptcy.

My mother takes one year off university to take care of newborn me. We are a one income household. My father is a junior working in the police force, a job he never wanted, but all the factories were being sold for scraps back then. Jobs are scarce. My father is a pragmatic man with a newborn baby.

My mother told me that at first we stayed at her parent's place. She couldn't get along with my grandmother about how to raise me. We moved to my aunt's apartment. I don't remember it well. I have memories of a nice Saint Nicholas' where I received a huge bag of toys from my aunt. It was full of Kinder Surprise chocolate eggs toys. For me it was heaven. I don't remember when this happened, but it would be impossible to have happened the year I was born.

Eventually we move to our own place. We live in an inter-war era bourgeois little house. We have a beautiful garden that my mom tends to. For her it's therapy. For me, it's a fairy tale. The house was split between family members. The room that connects the rest of the house to the bathroom is owned by a spiteful elderly woman. We live in the house for 10 years. She never agrees to lease the room to us. No reason is given. It doesn't matter. Everyone is feral. Freezing winter or scorching summer, we have to walk around the house to reach the bathroom. For me it's normality.

I was lucky somehow. I was the first born granddaughter in a huge family. Everyone had love to give me. Nobody had much, but they gave me everything they had. I was the symbol of the new generation. I didn't have to compete for resources, there were no other cousins. For 10 years, I was the only child. In 2005, my first cousin was born, then another, then another, then another. In total, we are five cousins. I don't have siblings. My parents couldn't afford a second child.

The collapse of the Soviet Union is a shock for the whole communist block. The inflation destroys the lives of those already impovrished. Ceaușescu's decades long crusade to pay all the external debt, although successful, meant the rise of poverty. You couldn't get your hands on enough of anything: food, clothing, light, heat; everything was rationed. Society became ferral; stealing was justified since there was no other way to support yourself and your family. This habit stayed with the people even after 1989. By 1995 people are desensitised to pain, poverty or destruction. Kindness or charity are dead. Baby me is clueless.

These times stay with me to this day. I don't understand my cousins who grew up after Romania became a part of the EU. They say it's not that bad. We live in two different countries. I became a chest preserving the trauma. I am writing to let the people know what happened, why I am the way I am, to explain to the younger generation why we left and discarded the Romanian identity. Maybe this will make space for new emotions in my heart. Maybe this will heal it, and I will forget it. Maybe one day I will not feel guilty for splurging on something I don't need for survival.

[sirsparklepants]

Writing about pregnant transmasc Wade is truly a delight, not least because I get to make jokes like this:

"So, big guy, we have some news," Wade said. He snagged Logan by the beltloop as he walked past with the special hamper in his hands, and Logan obediently stopped and set a hand on Wade's shoulder instead. "In about six months, give or take, we're gonna have a Kinder surprise, and I'm the chocolate egg." He cupped his stomach for emphasis.

[faint-i-wont-be-ignored]

When I was a little kid, my family used to get these little chocolate eggs with little toys inside them; kind of like kinder eggs but not really, because they were much better.

I hadn’t seen them in years and thought they didn’t exist anymore- but I thought I found one today and opened it up, so excited for the toy and the sweet taste of chocolate.

But what the fuck did I see? A lame-ass egg with no toy inside, and disgusting expired milk chocolate. The only taste in my mouth now is disappointment, I am now going to go lie on my floor and cry for six hours /j

[tripstitan]

Can't Be Sure When They'll Hit the Mark

What, you thought I was done with the reference? Strap in and buckle up kiddos and kiddettes and mein kinder, hermosas, hermanos, y hermanes y amigues, all you guys gals and non-binary pals, you dudes, dames, and everything around and in-between.

You're all -Seen-. If you know what I mean. No, seriously, don't think that you're not, that I'm just blowing smoke up your rumpus mcmuffin. My series, AAoMM (An Age of Mysterious Memories, free on Royal Road) is to prove just what I'm saying.

Reggie and a heaping helping of the cast are agendered, or aroaces, or all of the above, or one of the three. Plenty of rainbow fam and queer cuties across our giant umbrella of lgbtqia+ amongst the cast, main and side. But those are just -traits-, not the entire person, persona, or character. You are more than just one of your traits, or even a few traits that seem to dominate your life. That's what this whole journey is about, this thrill ride of acknowledging people all over every spectrum, and acknowledging chronic illness, mental unwellness, mental health coping mechanisms and support networks, and so much more. Reggie's a survivor, in more ways than one. Dealing with panic attacks? It sucks. It really does. Some of Reggie's motivations are trauma-informed, and even they don't acknowledge it. Let's just say that there's a reason that they lean more and more into their role that everyone keeps thrusting on them, "Hero." Reggie's no hero, they'll admit it themselves, hell, they're worried that morally they might just be a villain, or the villain, but heroing's a job somebody's got to do if everyone's going to get a chance at a happy ending. (Not like that, you pervy goobers, those of you that jumped into the gutter. Read more for some cute images at the end.)

We're six thousand pages into an epic tale that is more stream-of-consciousness exploring-the-human-condition through dialogue and mental monologue, than the grand fantasy adventure backdrop it's painted against. It'll probably be about nine thousand pages by this time next year, and maybe the series will reach what I'm hoping will... well, let's just say I hope it continues to provide what it needs to provide for those that need it. Whether it's the escapism of the fantasy, the acknowledgement, the adventure, the camaraderie, the falling in love with the characters, the references and easter eggs and dig-your-teeth-into-the-foreshadowing I've built up as a web that I've plotted for thousands of pages for the analytical amongst us that love to find all the ways I've hinted at things since literally "Day One." (If you're interested in Day One, and the first few confusing days of Reggie's life, check out An Age of Perilous Prologues, yes, my prologue is over one hundred pages, and has a bunch of systems-info, but it also has the formative moments and development of Reggie's main panic trigger traumas. Nothing too content-warning'ish, cutesie wild-animal attack in a wilderness survival drama, it shouldn't be too unexpected for a reader that goes into it.)

There are so many things I want to spoil to you peeps, but I'll just leave you with some Lil and Lucky and the chapter snippet. I've rambled long enough.

Oh, right, the reference. Today's chapter title is "And Roll Out of the Skillet." (Yesterday's chapter was Save Rock if you're not a follower/hadn't seen my previous post.) Yes, there's a lot more than just one of these little portmanteau chapter titles or me addressing either the characters, or my readers, across my over five hundred chapter long series. I'll attach one that's kind of mean, but also funny.

(I'm so evil. But the chapter titles do actually make sense, so I'm not just being a dingus. I am a dingus, but I'm not just being one.)

Have some happy Lucky and happy Lil to balance things out. (Yes, Lucky's a shapeshifter, so he can technically go Bara-pup form, so these aren't entirely inaccurate representations.)

Lil's also a shapechanger, and almost as much of a goober as Lucky... maybe more of one.

[lastoneout]

the canadian kinder stuff is nasty too tho, you want that european stuff

I did go to europe when I was like six but I don't think I got to have a kinder egg....or if I did it was vastly overshadowed by how good belgian waffles are(mindblowingly good like I still perfectly remember the one I had it was THAT good)

but if I ever go I'll be sure to try one

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

We Were Something, Don’t You Think So? [Chapter 10: London]

You are a Russian grand duchess in a time of revolution. Ben Hardy is a British government official tasked with smuggling you across Europe. You don’t hate each other at all.

This is a work of fiction loosely inspired by the events of the Russian Revolution and the downfall of the Romanov family. Many creative liberties were taken. No offense is meant to any actual people. Thank you for reading! :)

A/N: Wow I really pulled a George R. R. Martin and just never updated my story, didn’t I?! I return now with no excuses but with plenty of excitement to at last be giving this fic the ending it deserves. There are only two more chapters left! As always, thank you so very much for reading. 💜

Song inspiration: “the 1” by Taylor Swift.

Chapter warnings: Language, mentions of war and violence, sexual content (not graphic).

Word count: 9k. She chonky.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @okilover02​ @adrenaline-roulette​ @youngpastafanmug​ @m-1234​ @tensecondvacation​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @rogerfuckintaylor​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @someforeigntragedy​ @mo-whore​ @mellowfellowyellow​ @peculiareunoia​ @mischiefmanaged71​ @fancybenjamin​ @anne-white-star​ @theonlyone-meeeee​ @witchlyboo​ @demo-wise​ ​

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

“You are sneaky,” Joe says. He holds his cappuccino in one hand and wags a finger at me with the other. It took Mr. Lee’s kitchen staff a week to learn how to make a halfway decent cappuccino—I’m not sure if Joe’s passionate coaching was more of an asset or a distraction—and now he orders no less than four a day. “You are very sneaky. But not sneaky enough to fool me.”

I flip a page in the book Ben gave me, the one about British kings and queens. There’s a lot of information about the queens, he was right about that. Overhead the leaves are golden and oche and fluttering in the October wind; there is a softness to everything in London, the air and the sky and the trees and the people. It is unlike Russia in even more ways than I had remembered, in more ways than I could ever count. Joe and I are sitting in the courtyard behind Mr. Lee’s six-bedroom house and attempting to cultivate an appreciation for what the kitchen staff proudly call the Full English Breakfast: sausage, bacon, fried eggs, baked beans, tomatoes, mushrooms, toast, ketchup, and a menacing hunk of black pudding, which is just a kinder name for grains mixed with pig blood. I’m sure Joe is fantasizing about biscotti and frittatas every bit as much as I’m missing blini and kasha. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, quite dishonestly.

“Why must you lie to me, Lana bella donna?” Joe sighs. “There is no sense in this deceit. I know it already, assolutamente. I told you. My people are fluent in love.”

Here’s what he means: we’ve been guests of Mr. Lee for two weeks now, and each night—even after Mr. Lee and his wife have retired to their wing of the house, even after the footsteps of the maids and butlers and flocks of Sealyham Terriers have quieted—I lie awake alone in my queen-sized bed and Ben is nowhere to be found. Meeting him again in secret is too risky, this goes without saying. There can be no whispers that ripen to be sold and bitten into once I have unveiled myself publicly and married into the British royal family. And yet, still, there are moments, fleeting trivial things that I had believed no one else saw: the way Ben laughs at even my clumsiest attempts at jokes, the way I graze his hand with mine each time he passes me a cup or a plate, the way he watches me from across the dinner table when he thinks I’m not paying attention. I crave him all the time, I am consumed by thoughts of him, I am acutely aware of where he stands in every room…and then sometimes I look at Ben and something about him makes me so profoundly miserable I almost wish I’d never met him at all. Almost. “It’s an infatuation. Nothing more. Like Papa and Mathilde.”

“Who?”

“Never mind.” I dip a corner of buttered toast into the yielding, viscous egg yolk, golden like the sun and the leaves, like my impending future. Yet I find my appetite for gilded things to be dwindling. I peer up at Joe. “Do you think less of me?”

He shrugs with a wry smile. “I am but a humble deserter of my ancestral homeland. I have no judgement in me for anyone. Not you, not Ben, not countries or governments or armies, not revolutionaries. But the mess of it all does hold a certain sadness, no?”

“Yes. I suppose it holds a great deal of sadness.”

“Stai attento,” Joe says gently. His knowing dark eyes say it too. Be careful.

“You’re the one who wanted me to be nicer to him.”

“Yes, but you are between two worlds. And embracing one means slitting the throat of the other.”

“That’s very melodramatic of you.”

Joe chuckles, grins slyly, slurps his cappuccino. “I cannot help this. I am Italian.”

The back door bangs open and Ben comes out to join us in the courtyard. He is agitated, running his hands through his hair and frowning, looking much older than he is. He collapses into the chair beside me and lights a hand-rolled cigarette with the tarnished steel lighter he bought on the Trans-Siberian Railroad. The bear etched into the side glints in the sunshine, pawing the air and roaring soundlessly.

“No luck with Uncle George?” I ask.

“He’s still up in Scotland.” Ben spends much of his time in Mr. Lee’s study making calls on the telephone. It’s not as if he can speak to the king directly, of course; Ben calls someone in the prime minister’s office, who calls someone else, who calls someone else, on and on until Ben’s message has reached Balmoral Castle, and then the same process plays out in reverse. It all seems rather illogical to me, rather needlessly ritualistic, although I suppose Papa once did business the same way. It’s not enough to keep mere distance between royalty and the outside world; one must steel themselves against it with both palms pressed against the door. “I keep telling them that I need a private audience with King George, but I can’t make him come back to London. I’m just a press attaché. I’m not someone who matters. And obviously I’m not going to say anything about you over the phone. I don’t think they’d believe me, and even if they did we can’t have the secret getting loose before your safety is assured.”

“You matter,” I object, pained.

Ben doesn’t dignify this with words; he rolls his eyes instead. Some days he leaves me under Joe’s supervision and goes to visit his family on the other side of London. I wonder why he’s never asked if I would like to come along. I wonder if he’s ashamed of me, of my affluence, of my distinct lack of working-class wisdom.

“The king must come home eventually, no?” Joe says, trying to be encouraging.

“Sure. In a few days, maybe. Or a week. Or a month. Who knows?” Ben’s gaze lands on my authentic English breakfast and he perks up considerably. “Oh god, that looks delicious.”

I nudge my plate towards him. “Please, by all means, help yourself.”

As Ben eats—fork nestled in one hand, smoldering cigarette in the other—I resume my reading. “How is it?” Ben asks around a mouthful of bacon. He looks young again now, unguarded, curious and smiling. There’s a pang in my chest that is half red-colored longing and half heavy, dark grief. I collect myself like seashells laid in a basket.

“It’s extremely educational. Although I do take issue with some of the subject matter.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Well, the chapter about Queen Mary Tudor, for example,” I say. “She was the first queen regnant of England—one of the only queens—and she had so much opportunity to make her country a better place. So much potential. So much education and talent and resources. And then she spent her reign burning people and obsessing over her indifferent husband, following him around like a dog, paralyzed by misery every time he traveled abroad. Such a waste.”

Ben shrugs. “She did exactly what her parents would have wanted her to do. She married a man of royal blood and submitted herself to him. Because she believed her worth was measured only by the heirs she could produce.”

“That’s not the point.” I’m frowning, irritable; this is not the response I had anticipated. I hate when Ben is sharp like this, covered in barbs of cynicism like needles. It makes me wonder if he really likes me at all, if it’s possible he ever did. “She still had choices. She could have been kind to her people. Charitable, tolerant, forgiving.”

An exhale of smoke; a metallic glint in his green eyes. “Yeah? And what choices would you have made, had you been our dear departed Mary?”

“I wouldn’t have let emotions distract me from my responsibilities. I would have focused on helping the people I could, not falling into some pit of despair.”

“I see,” Ben says as he mops up beans and ketchup with a slice of toast. “So you would still marry the indifferent husband, just have the herculean foresight and self-control to not become quite so maddeningly inert.”

“I don’t know,” I snap, flipping pages rapidly.

“What? You suddenly don’t know what you’d do?”

“I don’t know what inert means.”

“It means motionless or ineffective.”

“Right, so yes, I wouldn’t let myself become that.”

“Perhaps Queen Mary Tudor once thought the same thing. Perhaps bitterness has a way of making monsters out of us all.”

“I’m not interested in this conversation anymore,” I say, burying my face in my book.

“Naturally.”

“Oh look, it is a cloud shaped like a cannoli,” Joe says, pointing.

“You’re not hungry?” Ben asks me with some concern.

“Not for an English breakfast.” How could anyone be hungry for blood pudding and ketchup and baked beans? Baked beans?!

“I can ask the cooks to make something else,” Ben says. “What do you want?”

“No, that’s alright.”

“Seriously, what do you want?”

“I couldn’t bear to trouble them. Our hosts have been so generous already. Once I’m in a position to do so…”—once I’m welcomed into the British royal family—“I’ll have to ensure that Mr. Lee and his household are adequately compensated for this inconvenience. And to think, I was so determined to hate him.”

Ben is perplexed. “Why?”

I reply as if it’s obvious: “Because he’s a cousin of the prime minister. And the prime minister is the man who convinced the king not to offer my family asylum.”

Ben stares at me. Joe stares at me. A silence settles over the courtyard, punctuated only by birdsong and rustling leaves. “That’s not how I understood things,” Ben says at last.

“What do you mean?”

Ben sets his fork down on the now-empty plate and clears his throat. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not going to fix anything. It’s just going to hurt you.”

I marvel at how recently he has acquired an aversion to hurting me. It’s almost like learning a new language, one he hasn’t quite found his footing in yet. “I’d still like to know.”

“Forget it.”

Joe interjects: “You really must see this cloud, look, it is incredibile, I now have a violent hunger for cannoli…”

“Ben,” I say softly, like a plea.

His words come slowly, haltingly. “From what I heard…from Sir Buchanan, and from other people on the ambassador’s staff as well…it was the king who harbored the greatest reservations about publicly aiding the Romanovs.”

Uncle George? Uncle George was the one who didn’t want to save us? Uncle George dragged his feet until my family was executed and butchered and hastily disposed of like a secret, like stolen treasure or a tainted bride? “I don’t believe that,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.

“That’s fine,” Ben replies mildly. “You don’t have to.”

“Why would he do that?” I demand, my eyes blazing, daring Ben to battle me. “Why on earth would Uncle George not want to save us, his own blood, his own family? He loved my father. He loved me. He would never abandon us of his own volition. Someone must have convinced him there was no other choice.”

“Sure. Maybe. You’re probably right,” Ben concedes.

“You didn’t answer me.” There’s a white-hot fire in my chest like lightning. “Why would Uncle George not want to save us?”

Ben won’t meet my eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Because it’s not true,” I say, victorious. “Because you’re mistaken. You have to be.”

“That’s possible,” Ben murmurs.

We sit steeped in an uneasy quiet, Ben peering down at the table, Joe up at the sky, me at both of them. Ben must be wrong. Not purposefully wrong, no, not knowingly wrong, but wrong nonetheless. Uncle George would have saved us if he had known it was feasible, if he had known how truly desperate we were. The alternative is impossible. The alternative is unimaginable.

“There’s one more thing,” Ben says at last, as if he doesn’t want to.

“What?” I ask.

“The king may still be at Balmoral Castle, but someone else came home yesterday.”

I can feel my brow crinkling in confusion. “Who?”

Now Ben’s eyes finally find mine. “The Prince of Wales.”

“David?” I gasp. “Really? He’s on leave?”

“He’s at Buckingham Palace. I could try to arrange a meeting with him. Somewhere secluded, somewhere safe. Which brings me to my question for you. Do you want to see him today?”

“Do you think he’ll take me to stay with him? At the palace, I mean?” Will I ever see you again, Ben?

“I don’t know.”

My answer should be clear and immediate, but it isn’t; it catches behind my teeth like a horse’s bit. Reaching the Windsors has been my objective since I left Tobolsk in a trunk in the back of a mule cart, yet somehow this feels too sudden, too final. I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a great precipice, the wind howling up to tangle my hair, my father’s blood in my cheeks, my mother’s palms on my back. But there’s only one correct answer. I surrender to it. ���Yes,” I say simply, as if it took no thought at all. “Of course I want to see him.”

Ben’s still watching me, his eyes emerald-green and searching and pensive. “Okay.” He stands, bites his lower lip, shakes his head once like he’s casting out bad dreams. “Okay,” he says again, and then he retreats back inside the house.

~~~~~~~~~~

The clock tower chimes twice and ominous grey clouds are filling the sky as Ben leads me through Hyde Park, a sprawling and verdant place I’ve never been to before. He chats nervously while I barely reply; I feel like dark water, still and quiet and kilometers deep. Ben tosses me trivial trinkets of British history like tarnished coins into a fountain.

“Do you know what we call it?” he asks, nodding towards the omnipresent clangs of the clock tower.

I shake my head distractedly, skating my palm over the pliable purple petals of asters.

He grins. “Big Ben.”

“Oh. After you, of course.”

“Yes, because I am definitely that important.”

“I have a few things named after me,” I say. “A library, a hospital, an art gallery, a room in the Winter Palace, a naval base in Vladivostok…”

“Jesus Christ,” Ben replies. “No wonder you’re so humble.”

“Well…come to think of it…I suppose they probably aren’t named after me anymore. Or won’t be for much longer. The revolutionaries will erase my existence entirely, chisel me off the monuments. They’ll obliterate all the Romanovs. It’ll be like killing us all over again.”

Ben hesitates, then takes my left hand in his. This is unwise; and yet I let him. In fact, I do more than let him. I squeeze his hand fearfully, desperately, my fingertips reading his scars like Braille. “You’ll have plenty of things named after you here if you want them to be,” Ben says.

I squint up at the shadowy, tumultuous sky. “I’d rather have them named after Tatiana or Alexei, I think.”

“That could probably be arranged.” Ben releases me, shoving clenched fists into his coat pockets. Arranged by the man we’re here to meet. By the Prince of Wales.

Because a prince of a powerful nation could do anything, right? Anything he wanted. Anything at all. Except stem the blood tide of revolution, of course. Except turn back the clock and raise my family like Lazarus.

We round a corner and find a guard, uniformed and on horseback, blocking steps surrounded by tall, dense, dark-green juniper trees. His eyes flick over Ben briefly, dismissively. “Move along, quickly now,” he says, with an encouraging swing of his sword. It feels wrong for a royal guard to treat me this way, disorienting, like a clock running backwards. It occurs to me that this same man might have been serving me and my family the last time we were in London; yet now he doesn’t recognize me, now he doesn’t see me at all. But I’m the same person, aren’t I? I try to catch his eye. He doesn’t seem aware of me. I might as well be a goldfinch or a stone.

“I think we’re meant to go up,” Ben says rather meekly, gesturing to the steps, like it’s a tepid suggestion. He barely sounds like himself at all. Ben? Meek? Since when is Ben EVER meek?

The guard scrutinizes him. “Name?”

“Benjamin Hardy, press attaché for Sir Buchanan, the British Ambassador to Russia.”

“Right.” The guard moves his horse to the side. It’s midnight black and tall and shining and surely a purebred, its mane and tail lustrous, its dark eyes sharp and arrogant. Kroshka could never compare, and yet I find myself missing her. “His Royal Highness is touring the Italian Gardens. He is expecting you.”

“Thank you very much,” Ben says, bowing his head, and leads me up the staircase. The guard still doesn’t look at me, not even once.

We ascend, my heart in my throat, my feet numb and clumsy; I keep having to remind them how to work. My hands are trembling. My skin is sweated and cold, my sweater clinging to my spine. There is a break in the clouds and muted daylight cascades over us. The steps are ending just ahead. My grand adventure with Ben is ending too.

Ben glances back and asks in a murmur: “Are you ready?”

Yes, I hear Mother say confidently. Yes, I hear Papa concur with warm, dusk-pink pride in his voice. Yes, I hear Tatiana and Alexei and Olga and Maria and Anastasia whisper from their gravesite in some unknown corner of the world, waiting impatiently for vengeance. The revolutionaries may hold Russia, but they will never hold me. The Romanovs will live on. Our blood will run in the veins of queens and kings until eternity turns all the earth to ash. It is the best revenge imaginable. “Yes,” I tell Ben, as if there is no other possible answer.

At the summit of the staircase is a spacious landing overlooking water, lily pads, swans, fountains, the horizon. The Prince of Wales is standing near the railing, framed by statues of half-naked women emptying their pitchers into the pond. I might have blushed at that two months ago; now I feel only an ache of curiosity, of longing.

David Windsor turns. He is just as I remembered him, only better, clearer: tall, slim, blond, blue-eyed, graceful, composed, fit for a fairytale. An ocean of relief crashes through me.

Oh, thank God. I love him after all.

His mouth falls open. His cigar—Cuban, imported, made by another man’s hands—tumbles forgotten to the ground. He is the opposite of the guard on horseback; the Prince of Wales sees only me. I can feel myself glowing with exhilaration, with pride. I can feel my family here on the landing with me, translucent and bloodied, beaming with ethereal approval. “Dear Lord,” David Windsor marvels. “Is that really you?”

Nodding with tears in my eyes, completely overwhelmed and unable to speak, I run to him. He opens his arms and bellows amazed laughter. His embrace is kind and familiar, if a bit formal.

“There there!” David soothes, patting my back. “You’re alright now. You’re far away from those traitorous animals in Russia. How did you manage this?! What a shock, my God! Father will be elated!”

“I escaped,” I say, wiping away tears. David hands me a handkerchief from his jacket pocket. It is embroidered with his initials. “Ben…Ben rescued me. He and Sir Buchannan formulated a plot. Ben smuggled me out before my family was moved to Yekaterinburg. We…we…we were supposed to save them. I was supposed to come here and convince Uncle George to offer us all asylum. But I was too late, I…I…”

“You poor thing.” The Prince of Wales shakes his head and rests a hand on my shoulder. “You poor, poor girl. Traveling in secret and in God knows what sorts of conditions. Learning of your family’s brutal slaying while on the run like some criminal, as if you have ever done anything wrong in your life! What could you have done?! Just a dutiful daughter, a grand duchess, a little girl. You are an innocent. What have you ever done to deserve such suffering?”

I can’t seem to stop weeping. Surely David will understand; he knew my family too. He loved them too. “My parents…my sisters…Alexei…” Sobs hitch from my throat. “I would have done anything to save them, anything—”

“There there,” David says again. His words are gentle but weightless somehow, bloodless, dispassionate. “Please, dearest, do collect yourself. I hate to see women cry. It’s such a pitiful sight. There’s no need to despair. You are exactly where you belong now.”

“Uncle George will welcome me?”

“Oh, my dear, he will proclaim his love for you in front of the entire world.” There are things shifting rapidly in the prince’s pale eyes: strategy, surprise, hunger, satisfaction…and perhaps a threat of envy, too. “Yes, Father…he always approved of you, didn’t he? He always hoped that…maybe…someday…” The Prince of Wales smiles down at me. “You might marry into our empire. And here you are at last, at the end of such a dreadful voyage, on our doorstep.”

“I could never thank you enough for this,” I say shakily. “I…I…”

“Please,” he urges, uneasy. “Did you think there was any other possible remedy? Of course we will take you in. You are the daughter—the last heir—of a great dynasty, one whose blood has melded with our own for generations. You and I, we are both great-grandchildren of Queen Victoria. We are both anointed by our Creator as the finest of mankind. Your house has fallen into ruin, this is true…but you are blameless in that. Just a grand duchess. Just a daughter. What could you have done to stop it? You poor thing. Poor, poor thing.” He smooths my hair once and then steps away, his mind already elsewhere. “I will call Father as soon as I return to the palace. I will tell him that he must come to London immediately. When he is back, he can summon you to an official audience, and then your survival can be announced publicly. The king—and only the king—must initiate everything, of course. And when your proper period of mourning has passed…” The Prince of Wales smiles again, this time vaguely and into the distance. “Other announcements can be made as well.”

I fold up David’s handkerchief and stow it in the pocket of my corduroy trousers. My husband, my husband, my husband, this man is going to be my husband. Surely if I repeat this often enough, it will start to feel real. “I would very much like to see Uncle George again. To be with all of you again.”

“Indeed.” The prince’s ice-blue eyes, as his shock evaporates, travel down to my clothes. “Dear Lord, what on earth are you wearing?!” he exclaims. “An old shabby sweater? A cheap scarf? Trousers? Well, I suppose you are in hiding. You must feel so out of place. Not to worry, dearest. You will be back to your old self in no time. And the sooner I go, the sooner you will be able to resume your rightful place.”

“I’m not going to the palace with you now?” I ask, unsure if I am disappointed or confused or pleased.

“I’m afraid that just won’t be possible, dearest. I don’t have the authority to invite you there, only Father does. And we can’t have this secret getting out before Father is informed, can we? He would be furious. I’m terribly sorry about the circumstances, but surely you understand. The attaché said he was staying with Mr. Gwilym Lee, I presume that’s where he’s been hiding you too? Are your accommodations there comfortable?”

And that’s exactly the way he puts it: comfortable. Not safe, not enjoyable, not enlightening, not affectionate, but comfortable. I suppose that’s the yard stick by which my kind measure their lives. Something in my chest is sinking, darkening. Did I really think that I love him? That’s impossible. I don’t even know him. Not really. “Very comfortable. Mr. Lee and his wife have been godsends to me. And Ben…” I turn to him. Ben is standing in the shade of the juniper trees and watching us with no expression that I can read. His face is a void, flinty and heartbreakingly beautiful. “He has saved my life over and over again. He has displayed both exemplary courage and judgement. He is my hero, my champion, my truest friend. I will be indebted to him until death. He must be adequately rewarded.”

“Is that so?” The Prince of Wales—for the first time, as if it is the dimmest of afterthoughts—looks at Ben. Ben bows deeply. David Windsor considers him for a few brisk seconds; then his eyes dart to me, back to Ben, to me again. “We will have to reward him,” David says, a winter-cold edge in his words. “Won’t we, dearest?”

“Whatever you decide is best,” I recover quickly.

The prince’s arm curls around my waist. He kisses me delicately on each cheek, feather-lightly, as if he might crack my skin like porcelain. “Good day, Your Imperial Highness. We shall meet again soon. Quite soon, I think. Yes, that would be for the best.”

The Prince of Wales descends the steps, leaving a silent open space like a grave in his wake. In Moscow, the communist revolutionaries have seized control and executed most of the Provisional Government. In Passchendaele, battlefields are being combed for dog tags to send back to the households of the dead. At Balmoral Castle in Scotland, King George V is about to receive a very urgent phone call. Somewhere—and I’ll never know where—my family’s bones are alight with the promise of redemption.

Meanwhile, here in Hyde Park in the heart of London, Ben and I stare at each other as sparce drops of rain begin to fall from a ghost-colored sky.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Why haven’t you ever taken me to meet your family?” I ask Ben. We’re sitting in the ill-lit, unassuming corner booth of a pub in West London. We each have a pint of brown ale. I sip mine tentatively; it’s thick and bitter and strange. Ben gulps his like water.

“I didn’t think you’d want to,” he says.

“Why wouldn’t I want to meet them?”

“Because…” Ben shows his palms penitently. “Because of what happened to your family. I thought it might be painful for you. To see my mother, my siblings. To be around all that.”

“Oh. I was worried you were too embarrassed of me.”

He seems genuinely puzzled. “What’s there to be embarrassed about?”

I smile down at the heavy oak table and say nothing, spinning my glass between my hands.

“Do you really want to meet my family?” Ben says.

“Of course I do. You’ve already told me so much about them.”

“Okay. We’ll do dinner at their house tonight.”

I watch him as he drinks his ale, his hair falling in messy twists over his forehead, his cheeks flushed, his emerald-colored eyes flitting restlessly around the pub. I remember how his hands felt against my face. I remember the way his lips tasted on mine. There’s a knot in my chest like barbed wire. The thought of never touching him again is indescribable. “How is it possible that no one has fallen in love with you yet?”

“I told you. All I’ve ever done is work.”

“It’s a shame. It’s a crime, actually. There’s too much good in you to not be shared.”

Ben smirks at me from beneath his curls. “I suppose at this point I’ll end up with an American.”

“What will it be like for you there? When you first arrive, I mean. It must be difficult to start over somewhere new without help, without many…resources.”

“As a relatively poor person, you mean?” Ben laughs. “I’ll be alright. I don’t need much. I’ll rent some dodgy little room somewhere and scrape by until I get my feet under me. There’s cheap lodging if you’re willing to share space. And I’ll have Joe. He’ll have the time of his life finding a woman for me. He’s been trying to give me condoms for years. He hides them in my pockets and luggage when I’m not paying attention.”

“Condoms?”

“Uh…” Ben blushes a deeper red, turning shy. “Something to prevent…children. One of several possible methods.”

“Ah. Yes, I don’t believe I’ll have the luxury of knowing much about that.”

Ben frowns at me, somber, anxious. I swallow a mouthful of my dark, bitter ale.

“You could stay,” I tell him suddenly. “Here. In London. When Sir Buchanan retires, I could ensure the royal family keeps you on as a press attaché for the next ambassador to Russia. Or any country you want. Italy, France, Greece, America, anywhere. I could convince David to do it.”

“No,” Ben returns with a sad smile. “I don’t think you could.”

The way he looked at Ben. The way he looks at me.

No, perhaps the Prince of Wales will never be a man who is swayed by his wife. I won’t have any power over him. It’s difficult to have power over someone who doesn’t love you.

“He’s not cruel,” I say softly. We’ve already discussed this, but I’m confirming it.

“No,” Ben insists. “Distant. Vain. Unfaithful. But never cruel.”

“Many women have suffered far worse,” I murmur, mostly to myself.

“Yes. And plenty have suffered less.”

“Is that what you’ll write about me in your article?” There’s no malice in my words, no fight, only curiosity. “That I’m materialistic…or mindlessly obedient…or spineless…or…or weak? Too weak to consider a different kind of life?”

“I don’t think you’re weak,” Ben replies softly, staring down at his hands. “I think you’re brave.”

There’s warm contentment rising in my cheeks. Pride, even. I’ve learned that there is nothing Ben respects more than courage, just as there is nothing I prize above honor. Perhaps we have learned to see both in each other. “Really?”

“You could come to New York with me,” he says in a rush, his eyes sparkling. “You could start over too, with me and Joe, you could be anything you wanted to be. I’d help you.”

I bark out a stunned laugh. I’m positive he’s joking. It’s a ludicrous prospect. “What, and live in some tiny room in a run-down apartment, shooing away rats with a broom, driving the mule cart to the market each week to buy beets and cabbages, sharing a toilet with God knows how many other people and no bathtub in sight? Can you imagine me living like that?”

But Ben doesn’t find it funny. It’s not just his head that drops; everything in him sinks, goes silent, goes still. He’s disappointed. He’s ashamed.

“Ben, wait, I didn’t…I didn’t mean…”

“We should go,” he says, and stands before I can stop him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ben’s family’s home is not what I’d envisioned. It’s a modest little place squeezed between a bakery and a blacksmith’s shop—far from a castle or mansion, surely—but it’s not dilapidated. It’s simple, quaint, a bit overcrowded, but not impoverished. They have the entire townhouse to themselves: two floors, a few windows, a fireplace, a scuffed old piano in the living room, two basset hounds with wagging tails and drooping ears, a tiny garden in the backyard where the children tend pumpkins and kale and sugar snap peas. It’s not as desperate as I had imagined Ben’s childhood to be when he described it to me. I wonder how they can afford this.

“Let me show her, let me show her!” August, ten years old and grinning enormously, shouts as he drags me around the house and presents each room as if he lives in a palace, every piece of furniture handed down through dynasties instead of secondhand and scuffed. He looks very much like Ben; but August is brighter, more open, less pummeled by life. He makes me wonder what Alexei might have been like had he been born healthy.

Leo, fourteen, is wrestling with his mathematics homework at a worn desk in the living room. Opal and Kathryn are in the kitchen helping their mother prepare dinner: roasted chicken, gravy, potatoes, stuffing, glazed carrots, sticky toffee pudding for dessert. That was once Alexei’s favorite, I remember. I hope he can see me now. I hope he’s proud of me.

Ben’s mother is a whisper of a woman, very hushed, very thin, her face much older that her years. She is like a battered ship limping home to harbor. She is polite to me but remote; she is like that with everyone, except perhaps August, her youngest. She seems to be irrevocably exhausted, as if someone pierced the soles of her feet and bled out her capacity for loud, careless joy. She has short, black curly hair and hands gnarled with arthritis far worse than my own mother’s was. There are no portraits or photos in the house, but there are three small wooden crosses on the mantle of the fireplace, one for each of her lost children: Willis, Cecil, Louise.

As Ben and I help set the table, a young man around twenty limps through the front door. He has dark hair, glasses, a narrow bookish face, and a moderate clubfoot on his left side. He walks with the assistance of a cane.

“You’re here,” Luther says calmly to Ben, a smile illuminating his face. “Now we can read the letter.”

“There’s a letter?” Ben drops the spoons he’d been placing. “From Frankie?”

Luther fetches it from the desk drawer and hands it to Ben. We gather around him on the single frayed couch: me, Luther, Leo, Opal, Kathryn, August, the basset hounds called Pancake and Pickles. Ben’s mother listens gravely from the kitchen, stirring and basting, all the recipes living only in her head.

“When did it arrive?” Ben asks.

“Yesterday,” Leo replies eagerly. “We wanted to wait for you. We wanted to read it together.”

“I can’t believe you had the patience.” Ben rips the letter free from the envelope. The first thing he reads is the date at the top. “Only five days ago,” Ben says with a great exhale, and they all burst into cheers; even his mother casts us a weary half-smile. At first I don’t understand, and then I do: if Frankie wrote a letter five days ago, it means he survived the Germans’ last major counter-offensive. It means he’s likely still alive right now, eating his dinner out of cans while we eat ours off chipped, mismatched plates. It means he might still come home someday.

Frankie’s letter is short, probably because he refuses to tell his family what Passchendaele is really like. Instead, he writes about the books he’s read, the Allied soldiers he’s met from Ireland and France and Belgium, the weather improving, the sight of the stars at night, his memories of home. He writes that he hopes he’ll be back by Christmas. He writes about the now-infamous fate of the Romanovs, the gossip that has spread like wildfire and horrified an already shellshocked world. Little do they know that the true story has barely begun.

As Ben reads, August huddles up beside him, and Opal hold his free hand, and Leo’s eyes begin to glisten, and Luther braids Katheryn’s long golden hair; and I am reminded so much of my own family that I am flooded not with sorrow but overpowering, breathless love. I can hear Papa telling us folktales by candlelight, his voice changing with each character. I can see Mother sitting in her wheelchair and knitting a hat for Alexei, new mittens for Anastasia, a sweater for me. I can feel Tatiana combing and arranging my hair. I can smell the tobacco from Papa’s pipe. I can taste hot chocolate and snowflakes and wild raspberries plucked from bushes. For a moment, and only one, none of it happened: Papa never abdicated the throne, the wars never raged, my family never died. For a moment, I am home and always will be.

I’ll never have that again, I think.

No; the Prince of Wales is my destiny, he is as much a part of my existence as my own bones. But he will never give me what Papa gave Mother. I am only now understanding how rare my parents’ love was, how remarkable. It is an uncommon thing to find a true home here on earth, and it is magic if you can manage to keep it.

“Are you alright?” Ben asks, and I realize that they’re all watching me. The letter is finished and folded carefully in Ben’s hands. His hands…I can’t seem to stop looking at his hands.

“Are you alright?” his siblings echo with genuine concern, these children who know nothing about me except that I am ostensibly a typist named Lana Brinkley, a colleague of their brother, perhaps even his friend. I’m a nobody, and yet they see me with perfect clarity.

“I’m fine,” I say, offering up a smile. “I was just reminded of someone I used to know.”

All through dinner—as the voices of Ben’s family rush around me like the warm foaming surf of Greece or Italy or Spain or some other romantic kingdom I had once dreamed of marrying into—I am silently bracing myself for my future. I can see it like paintings in a museum: opening presents with my children under a towering Christmas tree at Buckingham Palace, attending polo games and crystalline balls, posing in tiaras for photographs, cutting ribbons at hospitals and parks and bridges, sipping afternoon tea with Queen Mary and the Princess Royal, holidaying in the Caribbean or the Mediterranean, touring countries and territories littered across the globe where the sun never sets on the British Empire. And I do, I find, believe wholeheartedly that I would be safe here: the British are not hard in the way that Russians are, nor hereditarily restless like Americans. I would never be imprisoned, tortured, guillotined, burned, discarded like the entrails of a butchered animal. I would enjoy unparalleled opulence and security for the next half a century. How many people would kill to be me? How many people live on the edge of a knife, the color of each day bruised black with hunger, violence, disease, prostitution, deprivation, slavery, filth, war? I would be insane to subject myself to such risks when I was born so high above them. It would be like kicking a hole in a ship when it’s midway across the Atlantic.

Yes, I can see my life as if I’ve already lived it, and there’s nothing there that startles or horrifies me. The Prince of Wales would be a perfectly adequate husband, popular with his people and courteous to me. He would never criticize or yell or—God forbid—raise a hand in anger. He would be handsome and stylish and proud of our children. Perhaps he would even abandon his mistresses as our bond grows stronger through the years. I realize that the thought of him with other women doesn’t especially wound me. It would be alright to embrace him, to kiss him, to do much more with him. I can stomach the idea of that. We would have a pleasant co-existence…a comfortable one, to use his own word.

No, what gives me pause is something else, something unexpected, something that is just now dawning on me: not the presence of the Prince of Wales but the absence of anyone else, the prospect of never experiencing real passion, of never knowing what it’s like to have someone I’m mad for between my thighs, of David having feasted on heat and desire and wildness while I will never taste it. I think of the bitterness that will grow in me like a child I’ll never deliver. I think of writing some dull, too-careful letter to Ben once or twice a year while whispers tangle in my skull: What if? What if?

Luther’s voice rouses me, hesitant and bashful as he stirs his mashed potatoes and gravy together, avoiding everyone’s eyes: “Ben…listen, I hate to ask this…but there are a few more textbooks that I need for the Michaelmas term…the professors just told us about them, and I thought I had enough money squirreled away but I’m…well, I’m a little short…”

“I’ll take care of it,” Ben replies instantly.

“I’ll pay you back someday,” Luther insists. “I’m keeping a list of the expenses and when I have my own dental practice I’ll give—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ben says with a wave of his hand and changes the subject, and then I know exactly how his family affords this house. I know how they afford everything they have.

As the sun is setting and his mother is clearing the table to serve dessert—and adamantly refusing my offers of assistance, slapping my hands away with her crooked fingers—I follow Ben out into the backyard when he goes there to smoke one of his very inexpensive hand-rolled cigarettes, one of infinite tiny sacrifices his mother’s and siblings’ lives are now built on.

“He didn’t really say anything about my family, did he?” I ask Ben, meaning the Prince of Wales.

“No, he didn’t,” Ben agrees, vivid amber sunlight glowing on his face.

“He didn’t say that Papa didn’t deserve it. He didn’t even mention Tati or Alexei.”

“No,” Ben says again.

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Ben debates telling me something and instead replies: “I don’t know.”

“You have all these secrets now. You used to just hurl anything that crossed your mind at me like stones.”

“Yes, it is immensely inconvenient to have grown a conscious.”

I’m studying him in the receding light—fire like a yellow topaz—acutely aware that our grand adventure is waning like the starving crescent of the moon. “Can I ask you something else?”

Now Ben seems nervous. He flicks ashes from his cigarette with a restless hand. Everywhere I look I find the color of embers, like the whole world is burning. “Sure.”

“What made you choose the name Lana?”

He’s a little relieved, a little disappointed. “Oh. That.”

“If you even have a reason.”

“There’s a reason,” Ben says. “But you’ll hate it.”

“Yeah?”

“Firstly, I liked that it sounded like a nickname instead of something regal and important. Secondly, it’s easy to pronounce and won’t divulge your Russian accent. Thirdly, and most importantly…” He smirks guiltily. “It means something in Gaelic.”

Gaelic is one of the languages I haven’t gotten to yet. It’s a humble language, a working-class language, no royals study it to my knowledge; there is no recognized Irish royal family and there hasn’t been since the English invaded them in the 12th Century. But I suppose it’s likely that Ben has come across plenty of Irish people during his travels, maids and cooks and shipbuilders. He might have even grown up with some. “What does it mean?”

“Little rock.”

I erupt into giggles. It feels fantastic. “You…you named me…rock…?”

“Little rock,” Ben clarifies. “Which makes it cuter.”

“You are possibly the worst person who has ever existed, Benjamin Hardy.”

“Who’s going to keep your ego in check if not me?”

“My husband, I suppose,” I say, flatly now, as indigo night falls like a curtain.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Lees’ house is quiet and still like winter. The staff have gone home for the night, the Sealyham Terriers are slumbering somewhere with their noses tucked under their paws, Ben and Joe are outside in the courtyard tossing sticks into the firepit. It’s cold when the wind blows, but not cold enough to drive them inside. They don’t want to go to bed; they know it’s our last night together. Nothing will ever be the same after tonight. I don’t want to go to bed either.

I’m rummaging through the kitchen trying to find a pot, mugs, milk, sugar, and cocoa powder; my plan is to surprise Ben and Joe with hot chocolate, but I’ve never made it myself before. I’ve rarely navigated a kitchen at all before.

“Can I help you with something?” Gwilym Lee asks from the doorway, startling me. There’s a Sealyham Terrier wagging its stubby white tail by his feet.

“Oh, I’m so sorry…I hate to be an inconvenience…I was just thinking as we were sitting out there around the fire…perhaps some…hot chocolate?”

“Ah, just a moment.” He moves deftly around plucking items from cabinets and drawers. He’s a wonderfully benign person from what I’ve seen, and so is his wife Hazel. She has blonde hair and umber eyes and a way of telling the most cheerful, long-winded, dramatic stories. Oddly enough, she’s Australian.

“How did you meet your wife, Mr. Lee?” I say as he begins heating milk on the stove.

“Her father is a shipping tycoon back in Australia. He was here on business and brought Hazel and her mother along. I bumped into them at a Christmas ball and couldn’t stop staring at Hazel all evening. I asked her the most idiotic questions just to hear her talk.”

“What a romantic meeting,” I say admiringly. It’s the sort of thing princesses dream of. And grand duchesses too.

“It wasn’t all a fairytale, let me assure you. My parents were horrified.”

“I can’t imagine why. She’s lovely.”

Mr. Lee chuckles. “Because she’s not Welsh, of course! Although I suppose that wouldn’t be so obvious to you, being from…” He gestures vaguely, raises his eyebrows. “Elsewhere.”

I smirk down at my shoes as he stirs sugar and cocoa powder into the pot, neither confirming nor denying. “Now that you mention it, I have heard that the Welsh are…rather prideful of their heritage.”

“We’re like the Irish. We’ve never stopped bristling at British rule. And I come from an old, old family. There are artifacts in this house that date from when Wales had its own kings.”

“Rebellion everywhere,” I mutter to myself, feeling like I’m drowning in it. Perhaps everyone is, all over the world since the dawn of time; perhaps rulership is something that will inevitably be hated and act hatefully in reply. “So your parents wanted you to marry a Welsh woman.”

“Welsh was heavily preferred. From the Continent would have been acceptable. English would have been very bad, American even worse. But Australian? That was unthinkable! Australia was once a prison colony, you know. They’re just English people without the veneer of sophistication.” He grins, knowing how ridiculous it sounds, this shallow prejudice. “They’re barely humans at all.”

I observe Gwilym Lee, tall and poised, as he pours hot chocolate into three mugs: blue, red, green. Steam rises in the air like smoke, like ghosts. Something about the way he moves reminds me of Tatiana. “What made you decide to marry her anyway?”

He shrugs and smiles at me over his shoulder. “Life is long. With the wrong person, I imagine, it feels much longer.” He sets the mugs on a tray and gives it to me. “Anything else I can do for you, Miss Lana? Or should I say Lana bella donna, as Joseph does?”

“No, you’ve done quite enough already. Thank you, Mr. Lee. You shall be generously rewarded. I’ll see to it.”

From the shadowy doorway, he responds: “I’d rather you see to your own happiness.” And I’m left standing alone in the kitchen as Mr. Lee and the Sealyham Terrier vanish, the dog’s nails clicking on the hardwood floor.

I bring the tray out to the courtyard and sit in the firelight, sipping my hot chocolate, as Ben and Joe toast theirs and discuss the ethnic neighborhoods of New York City: Little Italy and Chinatown and Little Spain, Irish in Hell’s Kitchen, Norwegians in Bay Ridge, Poles in Greenpoint, Syrians and Lebanese on Washington Street in Manhattan, African Americans moving up to Harlem from the treacherous South, Jews in Borough Park, Greeks in Astoria, Russians in Brighton Beach. It’s the whole planet in miniature. Joe wants to live near other Italians. Ben wants to be able to volunteer at settlement houses and maybe even meet Jane Addams one day.

I’m listening to them, but from a distance; Ben keeps trying to draw me into the conversation and I ignore him. I’m too busy thinking about what I’m going to do next. I have an idea, you see; I’ve had it for longer than I could admit even to myself. It’s unforgiveable, but it won’t go away. And I know it’s the right thing to do because at last when I commit to it—silently, like the dead of night—I feel a great calmness settle over me, a great peace. As I cradle my mug of hot chocolate, my hands don’t shake at all.

Abruptly, I rise to my feet. “I’m going upstairs now,” I inform Ben.

He blinks. “Okay.”

“I expect you to join me in precisely one hour.”

“Okay,” Ben says again, thunderstruck, smiling. Joe stifles a rapturous laugh and pounds on Ben’s shoulder with his lithe little fists. Ben, still smiling, doesn’t seem to notice.

Upstairs, I take a bath so hot it fills the room with steam, and I lay in the tub listening to the echoing plinks of dripping water and the late-October wind rattling the window shutters. When I drain the water—opaque and shimmering with rose-scented soap—I can feel the weight of the past two years shedding off me like a snake’s skin, bleeding away like summer, disappearing down the drain. I sit at the vanity, brushing out my hair, naked and serene, gazing at my reflection. In the mirror, in the golden lamplight, I see not flaws, not history, not the future, not my family, not tragedy or triumph, but only myself; and I don’t think that’s ever happened before.

Exactly one hour after I left him, Ben opens the bedroom door. I’m waiting for him on the bed with my hair loose and wild, my skin dewy with steam, my heartbeat steady. He inhales, exhales, closes the door as quietly as possible. He walks to the bed and covers his face with his hands, his beautiful, scarred hands. I think of how pure his flesh is, uncolored by dynasties or pacts. I think of how everything he has he built himself. I stand to meet him, laying my hands lightly on top of his own.

“Ben?” I whisper.

“Yeah?”

“You can look at me. It’s alright.”

Slowly, hesitantly, he drops his hands. His eyes drift over me like snow: soft, quiet, melting away. I feel no nervousness, no shame. Ben is pulling off his sweater. I skate my palms down his chest, his belly, his forearms lined with ocean-blue veins. “Goddamn,” he gasps, resting his forehead against mine. I can feel the heat coming off him in waves. His fingers tangle in my hair. His clothes are in a messy pile on the hardwood floor.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” I say.

“Believe me, I want to.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” he breathes.

I climb onto the bed and he follows, touching my face and my neck and my breasts, kissing me so deeply the rest of the world ceases to exist. There’s no one but us, there never has been, there never will be again. The valleys and peaks of his body fit perfectly with mine. I guide his hands lower, lower, lower.

Ben cautions: “Are you sure? Now? With me? I don’t want you to regret this. And I might be legitimately terrible because I’ve never done this before—”

“I don’t care.” I’m smiling; I can’t seem to stop. “I don’t want my first time to be with some prince I barely know. I want it to be with you.”

“I love you,” Ben says. “But I guess you already know that.”

“I do now.”

It’s like a dream in the weak golden lamplight: our skin, our voices, the effortless rhythm we stumble unsuspectingly into, no pain, no thought, time running neither forwards nor backwards but fading away entirely like ink in water.

~~~~~~~~~~

Afterwards, we bathe together and put on pajamas—the Lees keep the dressers stocked for guests—and turn off the lights. Ben doesn’t offer to leave, and I don’t ask him to. We slip beneath the blankets and find each other again, our fingers linking together, our minds untroubled. Tomorrow will be different, surely, but tomorrow doesn’t feel real yet. It’s a legend, it’s folklore. It’s a myth people shared around bonfires, carved into stones, painted on cave walls.

I say in the darkness: “We really must thank Joe for the condoms.”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“How many more do you have?”

“Four or five, I think.”

“Hmm.” I kiss his stubbled neck, and then his jaw, and then his mouth with teasing darts of my tongue. I can still taste myself on him, inside of him, growing into his bones like roots. I can feel his lips smiling against mine.

“So you want your second time to be with me too, huh?”

“Silence, commoner,” I murmur, grinning, dragging him closer by the collar of his shirt, drawing him into me like the moon pulls the sea.

[seconds-not-decades]

Step {Back} In Time

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem! OC

Author's Note: Hello and welcome. This is my season two fic (and sequel to Time and Chase). I will be posting daily. *Please note that I am well aware that Elliot Page portrays Viktor, but due to season one being before his transition, that is why his character is still Vanya. I am not deadnaming him and I sincerely hope I don't come across as such. I will transition when I write season three.*

Warnings: cursing and violence.

Previous | Next

Valhalla

~ * ~

On April the 1st, 2019, the Earth was destroyed in a cataclysmic event.

Billions of people were wiped out in a matter of minutes.

Ironically, the seven survivors of the apocalypse were the very family members who brought it on.

~ * ~

Diego, Five, Karina, and Lila watched Sir Reginald's car disappear into the night.

"You know, I'm starting to get the feeling Dad's avoiding us," Five commented rather bitterly.

Lila sighed as she looked around. "Hate to be the boring one, guys, but, uh, it's time we get the hell out of here."

"When you say "we," who exactly are you referring to?" Five questioned in her wake.

"Not a lot of ambiguity in that sentence," Lila looked at him.

"Listen, I don't know who you are or where you came from, but whatever it is, I'd advise you return posthaste," Five snapped.

"She's right, Five. We gotta get outta here," Diego agreed.

"I just saved your life and your precious wife's life, you kinder-shit!" Lila was in disbelief. "If I hadn't stepped in, all that would be left of you is a blazer and some bloody socks and your wife would have been beaten to a bloody pulp with her pretty head split in two!" she was glaring him down.

"And that's the problem," Five bit out, grasping Karina protectively and supportively. "You're too good. You ask too many questions. You know too much."

"And you fight like you know what you're doing," Karina weakly added, coughing some.

"They've got a point," Diego admitted.

Lila scoffed in disbelief. "So I know how to handle myself, and that makes me the bad guy? Come on. Though she may have gotten bested a bit, Karina was holding her own pretty well."

"Leave Rina out of this," Five seethed. "Whoever you are, you're in our way. If I see you again, I will kill you."

Lila watched them walk past her and then once they were in the clear, Five blinked out with Karina back to Elliot's place to get her healed.

~ * ~

Luther was cooking eggs the next morning and the sun was shining. Five, Diego, and Karina looked as rested as could be.

"No, no, no, I don't understand. They keep following me," Diego was pacing.

"Wait, who?" Luther wanted to know.

"Those Dutch sociopaths."

"They're Swedish, you idiot," Five corrected him in exasperation. "Hired guns paid to eradicate us before we do any more damage to this timeline." He waved his cup of coffee around.

"Yeah, but why now? I mean, I'm-" he snapped his fingers aggressively as he continued, "Fine for three months until you two showed up!"

"Yeah, I was here for a year and no one messed with me," Luther added nonchalantly.

"Even if it was my fault-which it isn't- we only have six days before the end of the world, and the closest anyone's gotten to Dad was that driveway at the consulate," Five defended himself.

"Well…" Luther trailed off with a sigh. "That's not exactly true."

Everyone slowly turned to look at him.

"What do you mean?" Five questioned, stalking over to Diego's side.

"I saw him," Luther answered.

Luther recounted his story, starting with after he landed in the alley. He explained that he saw Sir Reginald once and took a bus to his home to see him, but Sir Reginald didn't recognize him and kicked him out. Then he came back to Dallas after that failed mission.

"That's pathetic," Diego commented, sitting across from Luther who was busily eating his eggs.

Luther scoffed, his mouth full. "Yeah, well, at least he didn't shank my ass."

Diego leaned forward. "No, bro, he shanked your heart."

Five and Karina looked at him in confusion and exasperation.

"Mm," Luther shoved another spoonful of eggs into his mouth.

"Is that my bathrobe?" Elliot pointed to him.

"No."

"Look, who cares what he shanked?" Five got everyone back on track. "He knows something about time travel."

Elliot raised his arm. "Um…wait, why don't you just do your thing and, uh, time travel us out?"

"Anyone care to explain?" Five scoffed, getting to his feet.

"First time he tried, he got lost in the apocalypse," Karina began.

"Second time, he ended up without hair on his balls," Diego continued.

"Last time I tried, I scattered my family across three years in Dallas, Texas, possibly triggering a doomsday," Five poured himself another cup of coffee and refilled Karina's cup of tea. "Any more questions, Elliott?"

"Uh, no," Elliot shook his head quickly.

"Sorry, you'll have to excuse him. He's the personification of an angry chihuahua," Karina told him casually, taking the cup of tea from Five.

"You're missing the big picture. Dad is the ringleader of a sinister cabal that's planning to kill the president," Diego told Luther.

"A cabal?" Luther had his mouth full again.

"Ignore him," Five cut in. "Look, the way I see it, we only have one option."

"Oh, yeah? And what's that?" Luther wanted to know.

"It's time to get the Umbrella Academy back together," Five answered.

"Hell, yeah. Family meeting," Diego grinned.

"Okay then, can one of you get Allison, please?" Luther requested.

Diego glanced at him. "You two still a thing?"

Luther motioned with his head.

Diego leaned forward and whispered, "Do we need to talk?"

"No, she's married," Luther replied.

"Whoa. Dude, that's rough," Diego said.

"I can handle it," Luther sarcastically chuckled.

"Rina and I will get her," Five spoke up. "Can you get Vanya without, uh, squeezing her to death?" he eyed him.

"I'll try."

Five nodded and blinked out with Karina.

~ * ~

Five, Karina, Allison, and Klaus entered the building from below.

"Hello?" Allison called out.

"Le petit mort, le petit mort," Klaus repeated himself.

Allison eyed him. "What? You don't speak French."

"It's "the little death"."

They both chatted indistinctly and Allison laughed as Diego, Luther, and Vanya came out from above.

"Oh, wow. Look at this old stuff," Klaus looked around at the TVs and radios. Everyone looked at one another in astonishment. "Oh, wow. I know this is impossible, but…did we all get sexier?" he asked.

Diego, Luther, and Vanya came down.

"Vanya," Allison went over to her with Karina.

Vanya smiled. "I can't believe I have another sister."

"I missed you."

"Thank God someone did," Vanya chuckled softly and they both chuckled before hugging it out. Allison grinned and pulled Karina into the hug.

Klaus grunted while he hugged Diego.

"Oh, you are drunk," Diego pulled back.

"Yeah. No, just a little. Just a few-oh, that's so sweet," Klaus saw Allison, Vanya, and Karina hugging.

He went over and flung his arms around the trio.

"No. Jesus!" Allison grunted and Vanya giggled.

"Hi," Vanya greeted.

"Hey, Vanny," Klaus returned.

"Klaus," Five spoke up as Karina rejoined his side. He softly smiled and wrapped his arm around her waist. "Is Ben here?"

"Oh, uh…no. No, unfortunately, ghosts can't time travel," Klaus lied airily.

"Are you kidding me?" Ben was sitting behind them.

"All right, then. Let's get down to business," Five went upstairs with Karina.

Klaus looked at Vanya. "So, Vanny, what's new?"

"Hey, Diego," Allison peered over at him, but he was going up the stairs. "Can't say hi to nobody?"

"Hi, Allison," he grumbled.

"What was that?" she prodded from her side of the staircase.

"Hi, Allison!" he yelled.

"Thank you!"

Everyone settled down, looking at Five, who was standing.

"All right. First off, I wanna say I'm sorry," he began. "I know I really screwed the pooch on this whole going-back-in-time-and-getting-stuck thing. But the real kick in the pants here is we brought the end of the world back here with us."

"Oh, my God, again?" Klaus complained, causing everyone to stare at him. "All of you knew? Why am I always the last one to find out about the end of the-oh, my God." He gasped dramatically. "My cult is gonna be so pissed. Five! Karina! I told them we had until 2019!"

"We have until Monday," Five sighed.

"We have six days," Karina added solemnly.

"Is it Vanya?" Klaus took a sip of his drink.

"Klaus!" Allison scolded him.

"What? It's usually Vanya."

"Do you have any leads, Five?" Vanya looked at him.

Diego handed him a file.

"Yeah, we have one," Five passed the file to Allison.

"Holy shit, is that Dad?" she asked, shocked.

"Yeah," Five nodded.

Vanya peered over. "That's him?"

"Standing on the grassy knoll," Diego put in.

"Diego and I have been trying to talk to Dad about what exactly this means," Five continued. "So far, we've got nothing."

"Not nothing," Diego disagreed. "He's planning to kill Kennedy."

"Maybe," Five remarked. "But we don't know who or what sets doomsday in motion. Could be Kennedy, could be something entirely independent."

"But if we know something changes the timeline, we have to make it right," Luther spoke up.

"Yeah, but how, if we don't know what's broken?" Allison pointed out.

Diego scoffed. "Come on. Do the math. We know Dad's having shady-ass meetings with some shady-ass people. We know he's on the grassy knoll in three days to kill the president. So I think we all know what we have to do."

"Find Dad," Five said at the same time as Diego said, "Kill Dad."

Everyone shot Diego a look.

"None of us are supposed to be here, right?" Vanya asked. "I mean, what if it's us? Has anyone here done anything to screw up the timeline?"

There was a moment of silence as everyone exchanged a look.

"Diego's been stalking Lee Harvey Oswald," Luther shot.

"And you're working for Jack Ruby!" Diego shot back.

"Allison has been very involved in local politics," Klaus casually stated.

Allison whipped to glare at him. "Okay, you started a cult."

"Thank you!" Ben agreed.

"I'm…I'm just a…a nanny on a farm," Vanya admitted while Klaus growled and hissed at Allison like a cat.

"I don't have anything to do with all of that," Vanya said.

"Well, maybe you do, we just don't know it yet," Karina gently returned.

Diego whistled sharply. "Listen to yourselves. Everything in our new lives is connected to Kennedy. That can't be a coincidence," he began listing off, "Luther works for Ruby, Allison is protesting the government, Dad is on the grassy knoll, Klaus is…doing something weird and pervy but probably related. See, clearly, we were all sent back here for one special reason: saving John Fitzgerald Kennedy."

Here came the overlapping arguments. Five just stared at his family in regret and exasperation. Karina rolled her eyes at the bickering siblings, going over to Five's side. He wordlessly wrapped his arm around her, looking down as he lightly rapped his fingers against her ribcage. She watched the arguments continue as Five thought over the memories of the war he and Karina saw when they first landed here.

"Five? Five, are you there?" Karina's voice echoed and snapped him back to the present.

"This is bigger than all of us!" Diego exclaimed.

"Guys, you all die," Five interrupted the family, his grasp tightening around Karina's waist.

Everyone ceased their fighting and looked at him.

"Rina and I were there. We saw it," he continued solemnly, feeling his voice catch. "And I wanna forget it, but I can't. We saw Russian nukes vaporize the world with all of you in it…in a war that never happened until we brought it here."

"And Hazel gave his life to save us, so you may need to shut up and just listen to him," Karina spoke.

"I don't know if the things we've experienced here are all connected," Five sighed. "I don't know if there's a reason for everything. But Dad will. We need to talk to him before everyone and everything we know is dead."

"Okay, I'm out," Luther immediately shot to his feet with a sigh.

"Did you even hear us, Luther?" Five stared at him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. I heard a 58-year-old man who still wants his daddy to come and fix everything," Luther remarked. "Well, you can count me out. It's time we all grew the hell up."

"Luther!" Karina followed Luther out.

"Come back," Diego chased after him.

"Where you going?" Klaus asked.

"Save it, Diego," Luther snipped.

Five blinked out and reappeared in front of Luther. He sighed.

"No one leaves until we figure this out," Five told him.

Luther stared down at him for a second before he grabbed a fistful of Five's shirt and tossed him over the railing. He yelled and blinked out before he fell onto the floor.

"FIVE!" Karina shouted and shoved her way past the two. She whipped around to Luther angrily. "God, you are such an asshole! You try watching your family die twice and see how easy it is to try figuring out to save them and the world with a limited amount of days!"

Before Luther could react, she ran out of the building and rushed into the alleyway where Five was.

"Five, are you okay?" she asked him, checking him over briefly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine, love," he reassured her. "Jeez…when did the monkey learn to fight dirty?" he wrinkled his nose.

Suddenly a rock fell down near them and they looked up to see Lila on the roof, racing off and then appeared on the street.

"Son of a bitch," Five breathed out.

The two exchanged a look, glancing back at the building. Then the two raced off to track Lila down.

~ * ~

The two followed Lila to a seemingly old abandoned building.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Karina whispered to Five.

He sighed. "Well, we'll see how this goes first."

He blinked them inside to where Lila was. She turned around to face them.

"What's your game, crazy lady?" Five shot.

"Who cares? You said if you saw me again, you'd kill me," Lila sarcastically shot back. "I see you brought your back-up. How sweet."

"Oh, I remember," Five sarcastically said.

"Well, come on, big talker. Let's get this done."

"All right."

Five blinked to her other side and she punched him, knocking him to the ground with a grunt. Lila swung to kick Karina, but she ducked beneath her and slid past, watching her run off. Karina helped Five up as they ran after her.

Five blinked them out and in front of Lila before flipping around and kicking her across the face. Lila dodged punches and gave punches, alternating between the two. She kicked Five back and shoved Karina into a crate, taking off again.

The two scrambled to their feet and looked around.

Lila chuckled from behind them. "I'm waiting."

Five blinked them to her but, Lila was nowhere to be found.

She laughed when they whipped around to face her. He blinked to her again but she was gone. She was casually standing behind them again.

"Fed up yet, Five? Karina?" she arrogantly shot.

Five grabbed a nearby pole and blinked to where she was, smashing the pole against an electrical box.

Five turned as Lila kicked him down. Karina punched her and blocked her arm, uppercutting her in the stomach. Lila tried to kick Five, but Karina swung from below and knocked her leg out, making her fall on her back. Lila grunted when she landed and Five immediately stepped on her throat, making her  cry out. She grabbed his foot, fighting against him.

"You two are better than I thought," she wheezed out.

"And you are entirely average," Five shot back coldly. He clenched his jaw as Lila softly choked. "You can come out now," he called.

The one and only Handler appeared, her heels clacking menacingly on the floor. "Well done. You two figured it out."

"Well, it wasn't very hard," Karina coolly stated.

"She fights like every one of you Commission drones," Five added.

"Hmm," the Handler mused. "No matter, here we are. Together again. And you brought your darling wife, too, how sweet. I've gotta ask…did you miss me, you little shits?"

Lila coughed, laughing as Five and Karina death glared at The Handler.

~ * ~

[crystal-moon-101]

So I’ve got three AUs here with The Secret Generator 10 Trio, and I drew them all together because they are all connected based on the same idea. In these AUs, instead of receiving their powers from something, they are what their powers are. Basically, Zak is still Kur reborn, but was born a dragon who disguises himself as human, Rex is the Omega (His design is based off of my sentient Omega AU), and Ben is the Omnitrix who decide to become a living being, choosing a human body as his main form. I’ll go into a little more detail to explain each AU, and I hope you enjoy! If you have any questions about any of these AUs, don’t be shy to ask. 🧡 💙 💚 -Zur AU- In this world, Doc and Drew never had any biological kids, as Drew found she was unable to bare any. This did distraught the pair, as it had been one of their long life dreams, but they stayed strong and decided to focus on their work for a bit, deciding on future family stuff later.  Eventually, they came across the Kur Stone with the rest of the secret scientists, and as the story goes Argost snatched it, and the secret scientists rushed into Weird World to retrieve it, losing many of their teammates in the progress. But things take an interesting turn when taking the stone back to base. You see, as the scientists were discussing what to do, now understanding what the stone really was, they all suddenly heard a faint crack...then another, then a few more, and before anyone knew what was happening, the Kur stone slip, breaking open into four pieces as a tiny, baby, serpent-like dragon crawled out. That’s when they realized that the stone was not a stone, but rather an egg, and putting two and two together, the group assumed that this was Kur’s child. Of course, they freaked out, not wanting something tied to the being said to desire to kill all humans to be wandering around the lab, but their panic caused the little infant dragon to panic too, and a chase sparked, with the little dragon rushing around the labs to hide and keep away from these strange people. The young dragon was confused, as it didn’t understand what was wrong, why these people seemed so scared, though one of these people did catch his eye, the woman with white hair. He had seen her first when hatching, and developed this strange attachment to Drew. She ended up being the one to corner the baby, who came up with a...odd idea somehow. Reaching deep within himself, he found the ability to shapeshift into a human form (Albeit with dragon like features), basing features off of Drew and Doc. This caught the two off guard, especially when seeing bits and pieces of themselves in this child. At first they thought he was trying to trick them, but when they started clinging to Drew, something sparked in the two, this need to protect this young one, who had clearly bonded to them so fast (Drew was quick to scoop them up and be ready to tell the other scientist to a back off).  It was a longgggg discussion with the others, many having concerned and worries, but eventually it was agreed that they could not place Kur’s blame onto his offspring, as it was unfair, and since Drew and Doc handle cryptids for a living, it was best that they looked after him. So, they gave him the name Zak, and their little family began.   Now, Zak is very well aware of what he is and who he is, and is very grateful for his parents for taking him in, despite what he was. The main plot of the series would most likely be the same, with a few differences, like people like the Nagas and Argost eventually thinking that Zak is Kur’s son too. But then the twist eventually comes in that Zak isn’t Kur’s son, he is Kur himself, just reborn like a phoenix. This leads into Zak’s anxiety crises about who he really is and what he could do, just like in season 2.  Zak can also switch between his human form, and real dragon form, though he is able to summon parts of his dragon form, like wings or his tail, if that’s better to use at the moment. He’s quite the magpie too, often collecting ores, gems, jewelry and anything that catches his eye. His loves the outdoors quite a bit, and spends a lot of his time out in the woods or grass fields around his home, connecting with the local wildlife too. He’s also known to straight up hiss and growl, even in his human form.  -Omega Rex AU- After the failures of the Alpha project, the crew on the nanite project eventually moved onto the Omega project, which was being lead by not only Caesar, but his parents as well this time. Based on Alpha’s designs, tweaking them quite a bit, they eventually made Omega, a much more friendly and kinder version of Alpha. Omega started off as mostly robotic, being tested on and merely hanging around the labs until needed for something. But like all of Caesar’s project, things started to change, and Omega started to become something more. It was little things at first, Omega asking little questions, curious about the world and people in it. Then Omega started mimicking people, copying human mannerism and even style of speech. People caught on quick, and become a little nervous, given Alpha was kind of the same when he started to change and eventually go rouge. They kept an eye on Omega, making sure nothing went down hill, but instead they went an opposite direction, taking a more wonder filled out look on life, wanting to know a lot about life and what it meant to be living. There were mixed responses to this, some telling Omega that they were just a robot and nothing more, others wanting to see where this would go.   Omega seemed to follow three people the most, Caesar, Rylander and Van Kleiss, each peeking his interest in different ways, each one seeing and treating him differently. Caesar often regarded him as one of his great inventions, and was enjoying seeing where Omega was going, and how they were growing, and while there were moments that Caesar treated him a little more human they he would admit, he tried to keep it professional and just say Omega was a tool. Rylander was the kindness to Omega, and would be happy enough to answer their questions and let them understand life a little better, often thinking he saw a spark of a soul in Omega’s eyes from time to time. Van Kleiss was intrigued by Omega, especially when Omega seemed unphased by Van Kleiss’s off putting nature. Like Rylander, he was fine to answer him questions about the world and life, though his negative views on life due to past issues made things a little sad for Omega to hear, even trying to ‘comfort’ the man despite Van Kleiss telling him not too. Then, the nanite event happened. It all happened so fast, but that didn’t matter in the end as Omega awoke with no memories...not even their own name. Left wandering the world now being infested with EVOs, he eventually ran into the Hong Kong Gang one by one, where he started to developed a more teen like personality, and even got the name Rex from them. This made that desire to be something more, something alive, stronger, and that feeling stayed with them even after he left the group, lost his memories again, and got picked up by Six and Providence. At first, they had assumed he was an EVO, but once they realized he was something else, a living nanite it seems, they kept him around in hopes he could help, especially after seeing he could cure EVOs and talk to other nanites.  Rex is very curious, and still mimics quite a bit, you often seen him copying gestures from Six and Holiday. Not in a mocking way, but more so like a little kid taking after the adults around him. He’s still learning a lot about being ‘human’ so he does stumble quite a bit, doing things like saying a phrasing wrong, not understanding latest trends, and sometimes forgetting the body limits of a normal human. -Omni-Ben AU- While Azmuth was alone, isolating himself in his work for the Omnitrix, he eventually managed to complete it. However, while he was having it do some test runs and look overs to make sure it was ready, he came to find that the AI may have been a little more advance than he was expecting, for the next thing he new, the Omnitrix shapeshifted into the form of a 13 year old human male. Of course, being highly confused, Azmuth questioned his creation, and the Omnitrix explained that, after looking through the DNA is had, seeing all the different speices in the galaxy and seeing how they live, how they work, they wanted to be like that too, wanted to be alive and real. They had picked a human as their man form as they enjoyed the idea of how humans grow, how individualized they are as a species. Azmuth thought about it, but finally agreed to let the Omnitrix try this out. For the next two years, still living in isolation, Omnitrix and Azmuth started up a simple life living together, Omnitrix even calling him father, which Azmuth was fine with and grew accustomed to. However, Azmuth never let Omnitrix out of the lab/base, for he feared what was out there that could try and use his creation for awful things, and with the Omnitrix alive and sentient, it made that fear worse. But, of course, things couldn’t stay the same forever, as one day Vilgax came knocking and demanded the Omnitrix. Azmuth was quick to tell his creation to flee, despite the Omnitrix’s hesitation. But, unable to deny orders from his father, the Omnitrix fleed as Vilgax followed after, taking Azmuth as his prisoner just in case.   Needing somewhere to hide or run too, the Omnitrix thought back to some of Azmuth’s stories, recalling the tale about a human called Max Tennyson, who had once defeated Vilgax, and was well known by the Plumbers. Given the Omnitrix had a human form, and knowing Max’s history with the Plumbers and Vilgax, he decided to find him, making his way to earth and crashing there. He had been following Max’s Plumber signal (Which was in the rust bucket), and ended up being found by Gwen, who took him to Grandpa Max. After explaining his situation, Max agrees to help, and after some debate, Gwen could come too.  The three begin to travel across the USA, going to old Plumber bases to collected needed weapons as Vilgax was on their tale, and looking for help in the matter. Needing to blend in with humans, Gwen helped Ben get an outfit that could hide him (Not quite the one up above), and used some make up along with an eye contact to cover up anything he couldn’t remove from himself, and eventually gave him the name Ben. Ben is quite...alien, for lack of a better term. Given he was isolated with Azmuth his entire life, there’s a lot he needs to learn and understand. He is quite smart and quick to pick up on things, but does stumble up in the moment. He’s found that the world outside it quite big, bigger than he realized, and now he’s experience so much, even new emotions he thought he never had, but...he does wanna see more of the world and what it has to offer.