#five hargreeves enemy

[em1989ts]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆

five hargreeves x reader

work count: 3.2k

book summary: five hargreeves gets lost in time and your father forces you to go after him, leaving you to get lost in a completely different kind of solitude. after decades, you meet at the hands of the handler, except you're not exactly happy to work with him after what he did. the two of you agree to put your differences aside until you save the world. how hard could that be?

author's note: i'm finally getting into a rhythm with this story, three chapters in less than a week?? couldn't be me omg, though i did write this all in one day on the floor of my hotel lmao. not proofread or edited, please interact and i hope you enjoy!

There are two different kinds of people who attend family reunions: 

One that doesn’t start any conversation and holds an approachable aura, and one that starts making a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. 

Five and Eight ignored their family as they stepped between them, making their way into the academy, leaving the adults puzzled and questioning what they just witnessed. The cuffs of their once neatly ironed and perfectly fitting pants were caught beneath their shoes, dragging mud onto the kitchen floors which Grace would eventually have to mop up. 

Eight pulled a wooden chair out from under the table, folding her hands together on the tabletop, waiting for her family to file into the kitchen and start bombarding them with questions. 

Of course she was happy to see them, she had missed them so much, but she found it hard to comprehend that they had all grown up without her. Feelings of anger arose in her for the thousandth time.

She hated Five for what he did. 

She hated Reginald for everything he’s ever done. 

Her fingernails had been digging into her skin. The screeching of her siblings wet shoes on the floor only irritated her further, her inner voice screaming for this dreadful conversation to commence.

The adults finally congregated in the kitchen, with Klaus sitting criss-crossed on top of the table. They all wore their funeral attire, yet Diego looked like a low budget vigilante. 

Five opened up the cupboards lining the walls of the kitchen looking for the necessary items for his sandwich. 

“What’s the date?” He asked as he set down a wooden cutting board and knife onto the table, “The exact date.” 

“The 24th,” Vanya responded. 

“Of what?”

“March.” 

Five quickly calculated how many days they had in his head. They had just enough time. 

“Good.”

Luther was fed up with Five’s lack of urgency to explain himself and sandwich making as he instigated, “So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?” All of the adults stared at Five waiting for an answer, expecting him to be the one to explain everything in his usual dismissive tone. 

Yet, he didn’t comment. 

He never looked up from the bread on the cutting board, prompting Luther to stand up with anger and say, “It’s been seventeen years.” 

“It’s been a lot longer than that.” 

The siblings all turned their heads to Eight, not expecting the statement to have come from her. The scoff however, they did expect. 

Suddenly, they jumped. The whoosh of Five’s blink that they hadn’t heard in years snapped their attention back to him. 

“I haven’t missed that,” Luther commented under his breath. 

“Where’d you go?” Diego asked as Five reached for the marshmallows above the cabinets, knowing that was exactly where Grace would hide them. 

“The future,” he answered as he blinked back to the end of the table, “It’s shit by the way.” 

“Called it!” Klaus remarked, playing with Eight’s braid as she sat there bothered. 

“I should’ve listened to the old man,” Five sighed, reaching into the fridge, “He knew. Jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice.” 

Five twisted open the jar of peanut butter and placed it in front of Eight. She glared at him. The smell of peanuts burned her eyes. She glared at him. Did he seriously credit Reginald for trying to warn him that day? Did he forget she went out of her way to try and stop him, she didn’t have to but she did. It’s not her fault he never listened to her but she was still right. 

Eight zoned out as Five complimented Klaus’s dress and continued to belittle the intelligence of their siblings. 

She didn’t want to listen any longer. She couldn’t bear the smell burning her nose, triggering her allergies. She couldn’t bear the wet clothes and drying mud on her skin. She couldn’t bear Klaus gently slapping her in the face with her braids. 

Only Klaus noticed as she disappeared into thin air, holding his hands out into the space where she once was. She had slipped through the dark shadow under the table and reappeared just outside the kitchen. The walls of the academy looked just as they did all those years ago. Climbing up the stairs slowly, Eight braced herself for the possibility she would bump into Pogo or Grace. Not that she was avoiding them, she just wanted to freshen up before their proper reunion. 

As she was making her way to her room, she traced along the cartoonish depictions of defensive plastered along the walls. She hesitated slightly before turning the doorknob into her old bedroom. 

There was no overhead light and her curtains were still drawn blocking the sun, so she left the door open a bit to let enough light in to look around. Her walls were black, absorbing as much light as possible. Books littered the floor in stacks, her bookshelves were filled to the max, unable to hold more literature. 

There were several candles around the room, as well as glass dishes filled with crystals, and ashtrays for incense. Grace was always worried the girl would burn the academy down one day, whether that was just her maternal instincts or her robotic programming, Eight never knew. 

She assumed there would be dust on everything, or maybe a few things would be sold or donated, but no. Everything was exactly how she kept it 16 years ago. Grace must have done some regular cleaning because everything was spotless. She wondered about how lonely she must have been. With her kids grown up and living their own lives. 

Eight had always wondered what her family had grown to be like without her. What happened to the academy after it had lost two members. Five had mentioned finding a book that Vanya had written in the apocalypse. He didn’t go into much detail, only saying she had revealed many family secrets, as well as the fact that Ben was dead.

Ben. 

She turned away from him as soon as he said it. Tears actually filled her eyes, and she couldn’t let him see that. Ben was her favorite sibling. The only person who she was comfortable sitting in silence with. They didn’t need casual conversation to fill their time together, they could simply sit with each other and read for hours. She never found out how it happened, and she never wanted to know. 

She went to close her door so she could change, and on the mirror that hung from it, she noticed a tear had snuck past her emotional walls and run down her cheek. It was gone in a second and she frowned and swiped it away. She locked the door and began to change into a clean uniform. 

Once she was fully changed and the dirty suit sat in a pile in the corner of her room, she walked over to the mirror to fix her tie before a blue light flashed in front of her. She jumped back slightly, even though she knew exactly who was intruding. 

Already changed into a clean uniform himself, Five stood before her, blocking the mirror. She shoved him aside so she could see herself and he moved to sit on her bed. 

“How much did you tell them?” Eight asked as she quickly did her tie. She could see Five looking around in the reflection of the mirror. 

“Enough for now,” he replied. 

He pulled out a prosthetic eyeball from his pocket. He had always brought up his concerns surrounding it, stating he believed whosoever eye it was would be the cause of the end of the world.  

“How are we gonna go about this?” Eight questioned, turning to face Five who stared at the eyeball as he turned it in his hand. 

“We start by attending our father’s funeral.” He sighed, placing the eye back in his pocket. 

She looked around for her dress shoes that went with her uniform, then she remembered she kept them underneath her bed to make space for more books. She knelt down on the floor and reached her arm under the comforter but couldn’t feel them. Lifting the blanket, she peaked her head under till she could see the leather shoes. 

Half her body was under the bed as she reached for them, until she felt a shoe on her hip, shoving her over. She heard a snicker and footsteps walking out the door. 

“Dick,” she grumbled as she retrieved her shoes and shuffled backward until she was free from the dark. She tugged her leather shoes on and made her way downstairs into the living room where she found Five and Vanya. 

She didn’t pay attention to their conversation. What she did notice was the very visible portrait of Five that hung in the center of the room that definitely wasn’t there before. 

How come he got a painting made specially in his honor when he was the idiot who ran off. If anything, Eight deserved a painting for unfortunately being lost in a noble sacrifice to help find him. Her look of disgust must’ve given her away, as Five came up to her and whispered, “Jealous much?” 

She glared and looked up at him, “Not when I burn it.” 

She hadn’t noticed that Vanya was no longer standing there, having already left to head outside for the funeral. The two teens made their way outside as well, forgoing the umbrellas, even though they had just changed into clean dry clothes. 

The funeral went exactly as one would’ve guessed it. Diego spoke out about how monstrous Reginald was, Luther obviously disagreed, and the two fought like toddlers over a crayon. Eight watched the scene, swatting Klaus’s hand away as he tried to move her further from the violence. It was a mess of disrespect all around, especially since the boys knocked over the statue in Ben’s remembrance during the brawl.

Eight scowled at this, she turned around and walked right back inside with Five following suit. 

Reginald deserved nothing. No kind words, no remembrance, nothing. What he deserved was someone to stick a cigarette in his muddy ashes. And that’s exactly what he got. 

~~~ 

After the funeral, everyone had pretty much decided there was no point in staying at the academy. Vanya had already called a taxi and booked it, feeling just as unwelcome as she did when she was thirteen, although Pogo’s kind words did make her feel a bit at home. 

Klaus had propped his bare feet up on the kitchen table while strumming an unplugged electric guitar. Eight and Five had been scouring the kitchen for any trace of caffeine. They flung open cabinet drawers and checked above the cabinets but could not find even the tiniest of espresso beans. 

Heels clicked against the floor announcing Allison’s entrance, “Where’s Vanya?” 

“Oh, she’s gone,” Klaus responded. Eight eyed him, wondering what exactly he was on at the present moment.

“That’s unfortunate,” Five signed, closing the cabinet and holding an empty jar, “An entire square block. Forty-two bedrooms, nineteen bathrooms, but no, not a single drop of coffee.” 

“Dad hated caffeine,” Allison reminded him.

“Well, he hated children too and he had plenty of us,” Klaus giggled as he cradled the guitar. 

Five and Eight gave each other a look that told the other they were done with the current conversation. They were both in withdrawal, they had their last cup of coffee the morning of their Dallas assignment. That was technically the same day, but these two teens needed caffeine to function. 

“We’re taking the car,” Eight announced as they both headed for the pair of keys hanging from the wall.

Klaus sat up concerned, “Where are you two going?” 

“To get a decent cup of coffee,” Eight said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, grabbing the keys off the wall.

“Do you even know how to drive?” Allison asked skeptically. 

“I know how to do everything,” Five said as he snatched the keys from Eight and walked right out the door. 

Technically, she didn’t know how to drive, so she had no reason to be mad. But with Five, everything he did bothered her. 

She followed him outside into the dark, wet alleyway as they got in one of Reginald’s expensive vehicles. 

Five started the car and drove through the city streets with ease. Eight reached for the radio but he quickly swatted her hand away. They did this about four times before she gave up.

“Griddy’s?” She asked. 

“Where else?” 

As they pulled up to the old donut shop, the memories of when they were younger flooded back. They used to come here all the time when they would sneak out. There was always that sense of thrill they got when they left their beds and ran here together and ate donuts until they couldn’t handle anymore sugar. Of course this wasn’t unnoticed, as Pogo always had an eye on them, but he knew the children loved this time together, so he never told a soul. 

The two walked in as the bell rang above their heads, and sat on the stools next to an older man who was the only other customer. 

Five impatiently rang the bell a few times, prompting an annoyed Eight to grab his wrist and pull it away.

She scanned the area. It looked exactly the same as it did over sixteen years ago. She wondered if that same lady was still working here. 

Her question was answered as the donut lady walked out from the back room and stood behind the counter, ready to take their orders. 

“Sorry, sink was clogged,” she apologized while getting out her pen and notepad, “So, what’ll it be?”

The old guy next to them ordered a chocolate eclair, and as she wrote that down she jokingly asked, “Can I get the kids a glass of milk or something?” 

Did she seriously think they were related to the trucker? Yes, yes she did.

“The kids want coffee. Black,” Five ordered. 

“Please,” Eight corrected him as she kicked him. She saw no reason to be rude to someone simply doing her job. 

As she nodded and turned around to get started on their orders, Five kicked back, causing Eight to kick back. They went back and forth a few times until Five grabbed her thigh to get her to stop.

“Quit it.” 

Eight stopped, but only because she was taken aback a bit by his action. 

Also because he totally started it. 

Eight stared at the countertop as she zoned out, not listening to the conversation where Five had gotten information out of the man next to him. 

Eventually, their orders were placed in front of them and the donut lady went into the back to get more change. The old guy was kind enough to pay for their coffees which they thanked him for, and he left, the bell signaling his exit. 

However, the bell rang once more, yet Five and Eight could see exactly who it was in the reflection in the bell on the counter. 

A swarm of commission gunmen entered, guns pointed directly at their skulls, yet the two teens sipped their coffee unbothered. 

“That was fast,” Five remarked, “I thought we’d have more time before they found us.” 

“Okay, so let’s all be professional about this, yeah?” One of the gunmen came up close, pointing his gun at Five’s head, “On your feet and come with us. They want to talk.” 

“We’ve got nothing to say,” Eight said, lowering her coffee cup from her lips. 

“It doesn’t have to go this way,” the gunman said, “You think I want to shoot a couple kids, go home with that on my conscience?” 

“Well I wouldn’t worry about that,” Five chucked quietly, wrapping his fingers slowly around a butter knife. 

“You won’t be going home,” Eight smirked as she disappeared into her shadow, before reappearing behind one of the men, snapping their neck, before disappearing again. Five blinked and stabbed a few here and there. 

Gunshots rang through the donut shop, glass flying everywhere, bullets ricocheting. 

Soon enough, every single gunman was taken out. It was inevitable, no commission agent was better than Five and Eight. 

Five had used his tie to snap the neck of one of them, which he retrieved and tied back on as he went over to the countertop. They both took turns cutting out their tracking devices, each cutting deep incisions into the other’s arm and fishing out the pill-shaped light. They may or may not have dug around a few seconds longer than needed, just to watch the other squirm in pain. 

The two of them walked out proudly, leaving their bloody mess behind for the donut lady and cops to find. 

Eight was about to walk up to the car when she noticed Five walked right past it. Confused, she sped up a little to catch up to him.

“Hello? Why are we ditching the car? Where are we going?” she questioned. 

“Vanya’s,” was all he said as we walked onto the sidewalk. 

“But we’re leaving a trace?” She reminded, as if Five was stupid.

“So,” he scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets and he stared straight ahead, “Our DNA is on those mugs and our blood is all over the counter top. It’s even on the fucking murder weapon. Either way, they won’t be able to find us.” 

“Fine,” she admitted, “Well then why are we heading to Vanya’s?” 

Five had had enough of her questions, which she could tell, yet she still wanted answers. 

“Hello?” she walked backwards in front of him, waving her hands in his face. He shoved her to the side and she retaliated by shoving him into oncoming traffic. 

He blinked before he fell in front of a car and reappeared in front of her, causing her to bump into his chest. 

He didn’t look too happy once she looked up at him so they continued walking. Eight asked no further questions for the rest of the walk.

Once they got into Vanya’s apartment, they sat down on the couches she had in her living room. Surprisingly, she wasn’t home yet, so Eight decided to take a nap on the couch while they waited for her to return home.

The cut along her forearm stung like hell yet she didn’t have the energy to go looking for a first aid kit. She kicked her shoes off and grabbed one of the throw pillows at the end of the couch, nestling her head on it.

Before she closed her eyes for good, she took a peak at Five, who sat in a chair and once again took out the eyeball, turning it, analyzing it.

She wondered what the hell would’ve changed about it in the last five decades as she slowly fell asleep. 

☂︎

~~~

tags: @groovydazephantom

[total-lunareclipse4]

🌜One sided hate🌛

pairing: five hargreeves x reader

summary: you work for The Commission, but so does your coworker who you hate. After a sweet gesture during your special day, you begin to wonder if maybe you’re the problem.

warnings: none I can think of

word count: 1.9 k

There wasn't anything extraordinary about today. You'd felt the same as always when you had woken up by the alarm blasting from your phone, and when you'd gone to turn it off, you'd realized that you didn't have any messages. Not that this came as a surprise to you, you hadn't even felt disappointed like years prior. The type of life you chose to lead was a very solitary one. Having a family wasn't compatible with working for The Commission, and friends got tired of associating with you when your work caused you to miss every important event in their life. Also, there was the fact that you didn't even stay in one place for long periods of time, traveling through humankind's history as if you were going from one country to another.

As you got in the shower, you dreaded going to work today. Usually, you were very fond of what you did, but today you were going in to do paperwork. Whenever a mission was over, you had to spend the next couple of days writing endless detailed reports about everything that had gone down for your supervisors to go over. In some cases, you would be called in and scolded for doing something reckless that had put in danger the integrity of the organization. That had only happened to you once, but the pain in the ass you had for a coworker had not let you live it down. He was the perfect employee, your boss adored him and everyone in the office was constantly kissing his ass. Not you, however, you did not care how good he was at what he did, you were also pretty damn good about it and didn't need to put others down to prove it.

Distracted by these thoughts, you lost track of time, realizing that you were now running late. Annoyed that you were going to have to miss breakfast, you quickly headed for your place of work. Upon arriving, you were quick to get inside, trying to hide from your boss so she wouldn't realize you were late. However, as your luck would have it, she was waiting for you by your desk.

With her red lips pressed firmly in a tight line and her pale arms crossed over her chest, she gave you a frown before speaking;

“Agent, a word.” She started walking towards her office and you had no choice but to follow. Once both of you were inside the room, you closed the door and sat down reluctantly.

“After today, that makes what? Three times you've been late this month?”

Four, actually. But you weren't going to correct her.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, wishing to be anywhere but here.

“No excuses today?” One of her eyebrows shot up.

With a sigh, you replied, “No, just a promise not to let this happen again.”

She looked taken aback by your change in attitude, being used to the endless rants that explained why you had been late that day. Some of your best stuff had been used during these meetings, realizing that you were most creative during the early hours of the morning.

“I love this job, and I'm good at it. I won't be late again, I promise.” You tried to keep your sentences as short as possible, wanting this conversation to end quickly.

Your boss rested her chin on her hand and waited a few seconds before speaking again.

“Look, I'm gonna be honest with you here. You have one of the best success rates, however, being a good killer doesn't necessarily make you a good worker. You need to take this job more seriously. Be on time, dress more professionally, hand in your reports when they’re due. Next time I won't be letting you go with just a warning.”

You tried to ignore her comment about your clothes, since you thought you usually looked very professional. There was a lot of thought put into your outfits. But this wasn't the time to argue with her.

“I'm sorry. Like I said, it won't happen again.”

“Good. Close the door on your way out.” You gladly took this as an opportunity to get out of her office, but when your hand had reached the handle, you heard her call after you.

“Wait, before I forget,”

So close, you thought.

“Have Five go over your report once you’re done with it.”

“What? Why?” your words carried a little more aggression than you'd intended, something that didn't go unnoticed by your superior.

“Because I'm telling you to do so.”

You debated if this was a discussion worth having, deciding that it indeed was.

“But he has the same rank as me, why is he supervising my work now?” You could tolerate putting in some extra work now that your job was sort of on the line, but answering to Five was something that you thought you could not tolerate.

“You have the same rank, yet, he’s never been late.” You knew this was a sign to drop the subject before she regretted not firing you in the first place.

You opened the door, resigned to leave.

“One more thing,” you heard her say, “don't ever question me again.

“Yes ma’ am,” you replied and went to sit over at your desk.

This was proving to be the worst birthday ever.

Once you were all settled in, you decided to start moving some files around, figuring that if you wanted to be taken more seriously, you had to start by cleaning up your place of work. That’s when you first noticed the little brown bag and the paper cup with your name written on it. Upon closer inspection, you realized they happened to be your favorite drink and pastry. There was also a note attached written in very neat handwriting that read: “Happy birthday, enjoy breakfast on me.” On the bottom left corner were three doodles you figured were a poor attempt at drawing balloons.

You looked around the office, but none of your coworkers seemed to be paying you any attention. Against your better judgment, you took a sip from the beverage, thankful that you were going to be able to eat some breakfast afterall.

Around noon, you were almost ready with your report, and you decided to take a quick lunch break as a reward for your work. You headed for the snacks machine, almost having forgotten about the terrible morning you’d had. However, things seemed to be going bad again when you noticed a particular coworker standing by the machine.

Taking a deep breath, you chose to rise above and walked over to get some food. You noticed he was whistling your favorite song, apparently not having realized you were there.

“Goodmorning,” you said as to let him know you were there.

Without turning back to look at you, he bent over to pick up the soda that had fallen from the machine and replied,

“Actually, it’s the afternoon.” Already annoyed, you looked down at your watch to realize he had been right. It was exactly twelve PM. You chose not to say anything, waiting for him to leave so you could buy your lunch, but instead, he opened his can with a loud POP and leaned against the machine.

“Did you like the breakfast? I wasn’t sure if that was still your order,” he asked.

You were shocked by the revelation, expecting the gift to have come from anyone but him. You had so many questions, and a couple of insults too. Regardless, the only thing you could mutter out was a poor attempt at being grateful.

“Yeah, thanks,” you spoke dryly.

“I know you never have any breakfast so I thought it an appropriate gift.” He took a sip from his soda.

“You couldn’t possibly know that,” you spat, annoyed.

He gave you a half grin, an insufferable look that said please, who do you think you’re talking to?

“You’re always late, usually looking like a hot mess. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you don’t have time to eat breakfast. Not saying that I’m not a genius though.” You hated that he was making assumptions about your life like that, however true they may be. He didn’t know the first thing about you.

“And humble too,” you replied, anger taking over your tone.

He furrowed his brow, as if confused by your response. Did he seriously expect you to act any differently after he called you a mess?

“Have I done something to offend you?” He asked.

You let out a loud puff. Where could you start?

“I don’t appreciate you treating me like garbage just because you’re on the good side of our boss.”

He let out a laugh, an actual audible laugh that made you want to strangle him.

“Buying you breakfast on your birthday is treating you like garbage now?” He always managed to twist your words to leave you looking like the bad guy.

“That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then what were you talking about? Enlighten me please, when have I ever been rude to you?”

This was your opportunity to show him how insufferable he had been over the years, however, after giving it some thought, you couldn’t come up with much.

“Like that time I got told off for making a mistake during a mission and you made fun of me afterwards.” You felt silly saying it out loud. It sounded so childish.

“That’s what this is about? I was just playing around, that’s what friends do!” He laughed again, taking another sip.

“We’re friends?”

“We aren’t?” He asked. His brows furrowed in a confused looked.

Suddenly, you realized all of the anger you had held against him over the years was nothing but one sided and utterly pointless, given that Five actually thought you two were friends.

“No, not to my knowledge,” your tone was soft, no longer mad but a bit embarrassed by your past attitude.

Five took a good look at you, inspecting you for a moment. He seemed to be making a choice in his mind, which he shared with you when he spoke again.

“Tell you what, let me take you out for dinner tonight, as a way to celebrate your birthday properly. We can actually talk and get to know each other then. That way you can make an informed decision about whether or not you wish to be my friend.”

You pondered about it for a few seconds, unsure if to trust the guy who you'd considered your enemy for as long as you’d worked here. After a little bit, you came to the conclusion that eating dinner with a coworker was better than sitting alone in your apartment feeding on leftovers, even if that coworker was Five Hargreeves.

“Fine, let’s have dinner.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Yeah sure, whatever,” you smiled. You figured you could try to be a little kinder to him after years of unjustified rudeness.

He smiled back and began walking away, once he was a few feet away from you, he turned around to face you again.

“And hey, don't forget to have that report on my desk before you clock out today,” he said with a wink before leaving you alone.

The anger came back, making you feel the urge to punch that stupid grin off his face.

Maybe all was not forgiven.

……..

author’s note: I’ll probably do a part two if this goes well of them having dinner!

[lyctorism]

#they really did that

[nickeverdeen]

Hi could you do a five hargreeves x female!reader where reader is normal and doesn't have powers but she's a genius and basically has a photographic memory, and she meets five and he's a bit mean and snarky but eventually he starts to fall for her

I also think it would be funny if she was kinda best friends with Klaus and he kinda teases her about five, but you don't have to include that

Guns And Brains | Five Hargreeves x genius fem!reader

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x fem!reader, Klaus Hargreeves x fem!reader (best friend)

Warning: None

PS: Sorry for the unoriginal title

———————————

You were used to being the smartest person in the room. It wasn’t arrogance; it was simply a fact. Your photographic memory allowed you to absorb and recall information with an almost eerie accuracy. In school, you never needed to study, and in life, you rarely encountered a problem you couldn’t solve. You had grown accustomed to the bemused looks and occasional irritation that came from people who found your talents either intimidating or annoying.

Yet here you are, standing in the middle of an ancient-looking mansion, face-to-face with a boy who exuded an air of superiority that rubbed you entirely the wrong way. Five Hargreeves—if you remembered correctly from the vague mentions in tabloids about the dysfunctional Umbrella Academy—was a strange, prodigious enigma. He looked like a teenager, but there was something in his eyes that suggested he was anything but.

From the moment Klaus had introduced you, you could sense the tension brewing. It wasn’t just the way Five had narrowed his eyes at you, or the clipped tone he used when addressing you. It was the challenge in his gaze, the unspoken assertion that he was smarter, quicker, better. The way he practically dared you to prove him wrong.

“Who’s this?” Five had asked, his tone flat and disinterested, as if your presence was more of an inconvenience than anything else.

“This is Y/N,” Klaus had said cheerfully, apparently oblivious to the storm clouds brewing between them. “She’s got a brain like a supercomputer—remember everything she’s ever read, seen, or heard. Thought she might be able to help us out.”

Five’s eyes had flickered with something—annoyance, skepticism, you couldn’t quite tell. “We don’t need help,” he’d said brusquely. “Especially not from someone who thinks they can waltz in and solve problems that are far beyond their understanding.”

And there it was—the gauntlet thrown down. You had felt your spine stiffen, your own competitive streak flaring up in response. You didn’t like the way he assumed you were just some book-smart outsider with no practical experience, especially when he hadn’t even given you a chance to prove otherwise.

“I’m not here to solve your problems,” you replied, your tone sharp. “But from what I’ve heard, you could use all the help you can get.”

Klaus had tried to mediate, sensing the tension. “Alright, kids, play nice. We’re all on the same team here.”

But you had seen the look in Five’s eyes—a mix of condescension and irritation. He clearly didn’t think much of you, and that was something you weren’t about to let slide. If there was one thing you despised, it was being underestimated.

The first few days in the mansion were… interesting, to say the least. Klaus had introduced you to the rest of the siblings, all of whom had their own unique quirks and issues. Luther was stoic and serious, Allison was kind but guarded, Diego was intense, and Viktor was quiet, almost withdrawn. They were an odd bunch, but in some ways, you felt more at ease with them than you did with Five.

Five, on the other hand, seemed determined to make you feel unwelcome. Whenever you offered a suggestion, he’d shoot it down without a second thought. When you tried to engage him in a discussion about the theories he was working on, he’d dismiss your opinions with a wave of his hand, as if your thoughts were nothing more than background noise.

It was infuriating.

At first, you tried to stay calm. Your reminded yourself that you were here to help, not to butt heads with a stubborn man who had likely seen more in his lifetime than you could ever imagine. But as the days passed, you found your patience wearing thin.

The breaking point came one evening when you were all gathered around the dining table, discussing the latest anomaly that Five was trying to unravel. He was pacing back and forth, spouting off calculations and theories at a rapid pace. The others were listening intently, but you could see the confusion in their eyes.

“Maybe if we adjusted the parameters slightly,” you suggested, your tone measured, “we could account for the temporal flux and—”

Five cut you off with a snort. “That’s a ridiculous idea. Adjusting the parameters would only destabilize the entire equation. You clearly don’t understand the complexities of time travel.”

Your jaw clenched. “And you clearly don’t understand the value of listening to other people’s input. Just because you’ve traveled through time doesn’t mean you know everything.”

Five stopped pacing and turned to face you, his expression cold. “I’ve spent decades—decades—working on these equations. You’ve been here for a week. Don’t presume to know more than I do.”

The room went silent. The others exchanged uneasy glances, but you didn’t back down. You were tired of Five’s arrogance, tired of him treating you like you were some naive child who had wandered into his domain.

“Maybe I don’t know more than you,” you said, your voice steady. “But I’m not an idiot, and I’m not going to stand here and let you treat me like one. If you’re so confident in your theories, then why not test them? Or are you afraid that someone else might actually have a better idea?”

Five’s eyes narrowed. “Fine,” he said, his tone icy. “Let’s test it. And when it fails, you can stop wasting our time with your half-baked theories.”

You didn’t respond. You simply nodded and turned your attention back to the problem at hand, determined to prove him wrong.

The next few days were tense, to say the least. You and Five worked together, but it was clear that neither of you were happy about it. Every interaction was laced with sarcasm and thinly veiled insults. Yet, beneath the hostility, there was a grudging respect forming, though neither of you would admit it.

Despite his arrogance, you couldn’t help but be impressed by Five’s intellect. He was brilliant, there was no denying that. His mind worked at a speed that rivaled your own, and his knowledge of temporal mechanics was unmatched. But he was also infuriatingly stubborn, refusing to consider any idea that wasn’t his own.

For his part, Five found himself both annoyed and intrigued by you. You were smart—smarter than he’d initially given you credit for. Your insights were often sharp and on point, even if he was loath to admit it. But what bothered him the most was how you challenged him, pushing back against his authority in a way no one else dared to. It was unsettling, and yet… he found himself drawn to it.

One afternoon, as you were pouring over another set of calculations, you suddenly spoke up.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said, not looking up from the paper in front of you.

“Dangerous,” Five muttered under his breath, but there was no real bite to his words.

You ignored him. “You’re right about the temporal flux destabilizing if we adjust the parameters too much. But what if we didn’t adjust them directly? What if we introduced a stabilizing agent that could counterbalance the fluctuations?”

Five paused, considering your words. It wasn’t a completely ridiculous idea. In fact, it was… interesting. But he wasn’t about to let you know that.

“It’s a long shot,” he said instead, his tone dismissive.

“Maybe,” you conceded. “But it’s worth a try. Unless you have a better idea?”

Five scowled, but there was no real heat behind it. “Fine. We’ll try it your way. But don’t get used to it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, a small smirk playing on your lips.

As you worked together, there was a noticeable shift in the air between you two. The barbs were still there, but they were less sharp, the insults less cutting. It was as if you were beginning to acknowledge each other as equals—rivals, perhaps, but with a mutual respect that was slowly, begrudgingly, forming.

Weeks passed, and the initial tension between you and Five began to ease, replaced by a rhythm of sorts. You still bickered, still challenged each other at every turn, but there was a camaraderie in it now. A strange, twisted camaraderie, but camaraderie nonetheless.

The others noticed it too. Klaus, in particular, found endless amusement in your interactions, often teasing you about your “little crush” on Five.

“Admit it,” Klaus says with a grin. “You two are just one good argument away from kissing.”

You roll your eyes, brushing off his comments, but you couldn’t deny that there was a certain… tension between you and Five. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. The last thing you wanted was to give Five the satisfaction of knowing he got under your skin in more ways than one.

But the turning point came one evening, when you were working late in the mansion’s library. The room was dimly lit, the only sound the soft rustle of papers as you pored over your latest set of equations. You were focused, your mind fully absorbed in the problem at hand, when you felt a pair of eyes on you.

You looked up, only to find Five watching you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was something in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat.

“What?” You asked, your voice softer than you intended.

Five hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “You’re not as annoying as I thought you were.”

It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but coming from Five, it was close enough. You felt a small smile tug at your lips. “You’re not as unbearable as I thought you were either.”

Five’s lips quirked up in the faintest hint of a smile. “High praise.”

You fell into a comfortable silence after that, the tension between you two shifting into something else. Something neither of you were quite ready to name.

[radiumjuice]

MISCHA M. MOROZOV x THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY

My OC Mischa was originally a fan character for TUA, but has since moved to his own original work. He used to be a lazy vessel for OC x canon with number Five, and his backstory was weird and half-assed (experiment of Reginald Hargreeves to make up for the perceived failure of the Umbrella Academy… cryogenically frozen… somehow survived the apocalypse with Number Five but dies tragically…. yap yap yap yappity yap) and I think that it’s boring and unoriginal. SO to do Mischa and the source material some justice, I’m doing a complete rewrite as a fun little Mischa AU. I won’t get into the nitty gritty right now, but the whole OC x canon thing has done a complete 180 and has now become OC vs. canon

[c0ffee-stain]

Whispers

Five Hargreeves x f!reader

Navigation • Previous Chapter: 1.08 • Chapter 9 - 1.09 • Next Chapter: Chapter 10 - 1.1

Death wish

"You both look good," The Handler observed. "all things considered."

"It's good to see you again." My stomach churned at his response.

The woman smiled, tilting her head up slightly as if reminiscing an old memory. "Feels like we met just yesterday. Of course you were both a little bit older then." A hostile smile began to stretch across her face. "Congratulations on the age regression. Very clever." Her eyes then averted to mine. "Threw us all of the scent."

Five used whatever strength he could summon not to scoff right then and there. "Ah well, I wish I could take credit. I just miscalculated the time dilation projections and..." His lips pressed into a tight lipped smile. "Well, you know. Here we are."

I shot a glare towards the boy. The more he spoke, the more he seemed to implicate his actions with mine.

Her crimson lips twitched upwards. "Yes," She spoke. "Here you both are."

"But you do realise your efforts are futile. So why don't you tell me what you really want."

What I was promised--

"I want you to put a stop to it." Five replied.

"You realise what you're asking for is next to impossible, even for me. What's meant to be is meant to be. That's our raison d'etre, our purpose."

Five reached into his holster and pointed a gun towards The Handler, standing comfortably with a hand in his pocket. "Yeah?" He hummed, his tense shoulders contrasting the carefree tone he boasted as if he were in control. "Well how about survival as a raison?"

"I'll just be replaced," The Handler shrugged. "I'm but a... small cog in a machine." She was clearly unimpressed that even Five had settled with the naïve conclusion that all his problems would be eradicated with her demise. A thought many before him had proceeded with in the past. A thought that I had attempted to act on too many times to count, only to be slapped back into reality and be forced to come to terms with the harsh truth.

I was lucky to have The Handler. Luckier than most who were slaving away back in the confines of the Commission with the false promise of escape.

The woman began approaching Five in measured steps, facing the barrel of the gun shamelessly. "This fantasy you've been nurturing about summoning up your family and kidnaping y/n to stop the apocalypse," She paused as Five gradually began to retract the gun, his fist trembling in anger and teeth dug deep into his tongue. "is just that. A fantasy."

She then turned to face me. "And I'm more than positive that you're tired of being held hostage by someone you despise." As Five began to open his mouth to respond, The Handler smoothly proceeded, "You're one of my most valuable assets- maybe even my most- so I'm willing to turn a blind eye and..." She paused, her blue eyes glinting in familiarity. "cut a deal with you."

"No--"

"Yes." I firmly stated, glaring at the boy beside me. "I would be more than happy to."

"What do you think you're doing--"

I snapped my neck towards him and scowled. "What I should've done from the beginning."

"Don't think we're leaving you out, Fivey. We want to offer you a new position back at the Commission." She lifted her hand towards him as if in surrender. "In management."

This caught my attention immediately, my lips parting slightly as I caught myself from protesting to her decisions.

Five sputtered in response, almost not finding his words. "Sorry," He scoffed. "what's that now?"

"Come back to work for us again. You know it's where you belong." The Handler was closer to Five now, his gun faltering ever so slightly.

"Well it didn't work out too well the last time."

"But you wouldn't be in the correctional division any longer. I'm talking about... the home office." She spoke. "You'd have the best health and pension, and an end to this ceaseless travel."

The platinum haired woman chuckled before any of us could object. "You're a distinguished professional in," She paused, dramatically inhaling a deep breath as her eyes roamed Five's figure. "school boy shorts. We have the technology to reverse the process for the both of you."

The boys shoulders slumped slightly, showcasing his eventual defeat to the Handlers flattering promises and honeyed words. Both which he knew would eventual morph into sweet nothings to trap him into her tapestry of lies. Each web sewn delicately with a careful equivocation to back up every false pretence ever spewed from those red stained lips.

"I mean, you can't be happy like this." She proceeded, her polished manicured hand clasping over the gun, gently pushing it down.

"I'm not looking for happy." He rasped.

The Handler left a trail of feather light touches along Five's cheek, her fingers just brushing his skin, as she said, "We're all looking for happy. We can make that happen."

"We can make you... yourself again."

He sighed, his eyes averting from place to place abruptly. "And what about my family?" Five countered.

"What about them?"

"I want them to survive."

I rolled my eyes, grumbling a curse in annoyance at how thick Five's skull presented itself to be time and time again. And it seemed the same thought was running through the Handlers mind as she glared blankly at the boy before looking away with a sigh, her gaze landing on the statue-like bodies of Luther, Diego and Klaus.

She puckered her lips. "All of them?"

"Yes," His eyes narrowed. "All of them."

The woman flexed her hands and reached for her sunglasses, placing them back on top of the bridge of her nose in a swift movement.

"I'll see what I can do."

There was no way in hell Five would fall for something like this so easily. The boy would be the next person after me to have witnessed the brutalness and severity of what the actions of the Commissions Handler can lead to. Especially if ones future relies soley on a deal based on a 'maybe'- an uncertainty.

She raised a hand, her lips turning into a smile.

“So, do we have a deal?”

The question lingered in the air for longer than it should have, the weight of each of the Handlers words staining the tense atmosphere like venom does to its prey.

Any wrong word or movement could result in two of, or all of us dead. And I was more than ready to make the former come true if necessary.

Five looked down to her hand, to her eyes, then twisted his neck to meet mine with brows furrowed from the constant weight of suspicion burdening him and his every thought.

"One thing." He turned away and took long strides towards Hazel and Cha Cha, placing his gun back into the holster attached to his hip, and reached down, de-assembling one of the duo's pistols and flinging it away. Hastily, he made his way back and reached towards the bullet hanging mid air aimed for Luther, repositioning its trajectory away from his brother.

Back in the situation he was in seconds ago, repeating his actions he looked down at the Handlers stretched hand, but quickly halted himself from making contact. "Actually scratch that." He licked his lips hastily. "One more thing."

This time he took a few steps towards me, his palm coming to grip my wrist in a vice-like grip and pulled me away from the woman's intruding presence.

"What is your problem?" I hissed, my face scrunched in a mixture of pain and frustration. Clenching my jaw, I did my best to hide the pain and focused on Fives gaze.

His darkened eyes bore into mine intensely as his forehead wrinkled and nose scrunched in disgust, lips pinched into a tight scowl. The pain in my wrist quickly subsided into a dull numbness as Five tightened his palm further, pulling me eerily closer.

"If find out that you've been planning this from the start," He began, lowering his voice to mask the tremor bound to shake through his words. "I will rip you apart limb from limb and watch you bleed out beneath me with a laugh on my face." I felt his spit fling onto my face, my jaw tightening further in distaste. "And this isn't some everyday threat, y/n," I raised a brow at the use of my first name. "This is personal."

"Got that?" His breath fanned against my face and his grip tightened momentarily before releasing my wrist all together and strolling back to the Handler as if nothing had happened at all, not giving me a single second to respond like the coward he was proving to be.

"Close your mouth dear." I heard the Handlers voice echo into my ears as I approached the two. "Wouldn't want to swallow any flies."

I swallowed my last bit if anger down to my gut and scoffed, not trusting myself to look at the boy beside me in fears I'd do something I'd come to regret.

At last, Five clasped his hand over the Handlers, a pleasant smile gracing her lips.

"Deal."

Date: REDACTED, 1955 Location: TEMPS COMMISSION HQ Time: REDACTED

It was strange to be back at the Commission so fast. Like a sudden whiplash, a sudden feeling that from here, things could only get worse no matter what I tried. I couldn't really explain it.

Especially now, as the Handler, Five and I walked through the Commissions front garden as if we had all the time in the world. And technically, we did. But everything I felt my gut wailing and screaming for me to understand only proved that time was the only thing I didn't have.

It was terrifying. But even fear couldn't replace the anger brewing within me. All because of some fucking man-child who decided to be selfish and save his family from their inevitable doom.

And the audacity this idiot had to threaten me as if I was the one endangering a whole timeline was beyond me.

A scoff left my lips as his threats rang in my mind. I shook my head in annoyance. I should be the one to rip his limbs apart. I should be the one to watch him bleed into the ground. I should be the one that comes out on top, laughing at his last dying efforts to merely take another breath. But most of all, I should be the one to be talking out a deal with the Handler.

As if on cue, the Handlers words rang through the air, along with the series of greetings from the Commission associates around us.

“I’ve never met anyone quite like you. Hazel and Cha Cha, for example, are talented certainly, but they can’t see the big picture.”

“And what, he can?” I grumbled, before hissing in pain. Five had thrown his heel back and kicked my shin. As I tried to respond with my own attack, the boy read my mind and swiftly moved to the side to dodge my foot.

Acting as if she hadn’t witnessed a thing, the Handler carried on with her flattery. “Your spunk, your enterprising spirit, it reminds me of myself if I may be so vainglorious.” She smiled, leading us in towards the buildings entrance.

"If things work out for you here, you could potentially make a fine successor, Five."

The moment we stepped foot inside the headquarters, the Handlers coat was swiftly taken by another worker as she led us through the familiar staircase. Once I opened my mouth to speak, the boy beside me quickly cut in front with a shove and a glare, and asked, "I'd like to discuss the logistics of my family's safety at your earliest convenience." Then added, "As well as this body replacement."

"Such chutzpah." The Handler sighed. "It's refreshing, I'll admit."

I rolled my eyes, the memories of my own 'chutzpah' flickering through my mind along with the punishments that came with it. "Don't claim to be brave if you can't handle a little pain." is what the Handler always used to say. The way the blue hues of her eyes glistened in grim satisfaction, and the way her voice reminded me of one I longed to forget would forever stick with me, haunting every reflection my eyes dared to meet.

The image of her unsettling grin, deep crimson lipstick smeared onto the unnatural white of her teeth. The metallic stench of blood that seemed to come and go with every snap of her fingers. The haze of smoke blocking whatever was left of my tear-stricken vision, and her warm breathing whispering bittersweet nothings into my ear- which were more bitter than I remembered. The memory was impossible to forget.

I mean, how could I forget such a core moment in my life?

How could I forget my first failure?

But that didn’t matter right now. As all I needed right this second, was to watch her inflict the same punishments onto Five. No matter how cruel that may be. I needed to see someone else go through the same... incidents as I did. I needed to know that I wasn't the only one who'd fell prey to the woman's actions. But from the way the Handler was treating Five, meeting his every demand with an agreement or a compromise, it seemed that I was unlucky enough to keep getting the short end of the stick.

I hadn't even realised my fists were clenched until a sting shot through my palm. My eyes averted down to my hand, crescent marks staring right back up at me with the same intensity.

"Now that you've finally agreed to work with us, we've got all the time in the world." Smug. Her voice was so fucking smug. I ran my hand over my face as if the action was going to release the tension in my jaw, my eyes- anywhere.

The woman led us through the Commission as a mini-reintroduction as if we hadn't been working there a few days ago.

"The Commission works in support of a delicate balance between the time line of events and mankind's free will." Leading us towards the briefcase storage room, she turned towards Five. "The briefcase is no longer part of your kit. Free your mind." She placed an arm around his shoulder, making sure to make eye contact with me as she uttered his name. "You're management now, Five."

She smirked at my expression. "One of us."

Before going up another flight of stairs, she paused and turned on her heels to face me properly, Five following her actions to meet my stare with his stern one.

"Since I'll be showing Five where he'll be working among the case managers, you're no longer needed." She said, looking me up and down. "Wait in my office so we can discuss the details concerning your return."

And with that, the two left without a second glance- well, I didn't miss the way the boy gave me a strange look before joining the Handler. He was clearly trying to communicate something but it'd take a lot more than an odd glance to crack through the resentment clouding my eyes and better judgement.

Maybe that's why I did what I did the moment I was no longer shadowed by their presence.

Was what I was about to do a good idea? No.

No, it was not.

But I was going to do it anyway.

Without a second thought, I rushed towards the direction of the Handlers office, receiving odd glances from analysts after practically witnessing some random teenager sprint through the hallways. I quickly entered, shutting the door behind me before I set my eyes on a painting opposite to where I stood.

The piece of art was breath taking. You could tell that every brush and stroke of the artists paintbrush was done so with delicacy and precision. Everything was perfect, from the swarms of dark red hues and smoky oranges, to the smallest spec of green that seemed insignificant when looking at the canvas up close. But when you take a step back to appreciate the big picture, you begin to appreciate the details that seem invisible to the naked eye.

You've always had a soft spot for art. Maybe that's why The Handler had chosen to place the very thing that could change the darkness of your fate into a bright one, within the hard work of another's.

You grabbed one of the knives strapped to your body and with a deep exhale, slashed vertically through the artwork you were admiring only a moment ago. The cut was swift and neat, revealing a small silver key dangling in the air with a piece of string through the key hole that was attached to the top of the canvas.

A dwindling smile began to tug at my lips as a familiar engraving of the letter 'J' caught my eye. I hurriedly snapped the rope and grabbed the key, holding it tightly in my palm as if it were going to disappear from my grasp if I loosened my grip.

As if the universe could read my mind, the door clicked open and locked shut, before a voice pierced through the air.

“It seems that the bloodhound has gnawed through her leash.” She spoke. “Again.”

I turned to face her. "One of the things you trained me in is debt collection." I replied, a tired grin on my face. "I'm just doing my job."

The Handler laughed, making my eyes narrow at the hollow sound leaving her lips. She reached for a pocket watch on her desk and snapped it open. "I'm sorry to inform you, dear, but the deadline's not up yet." It snapped shut.

"Now," The woman sighed as she gracefully sat on her chair, holding a pipe between her fingers and crossing her legs. "be a good girl and give me the key so we can get on with--."

"No."

Silence

The Handler cocked her head to the side and exhaled a puff of smoke. An exasperated burst of a chuckle escaped her lips and I watched the way she poked her tongue against the inside of her cheek. “I’m not sure I heard you right. What was it you said?”

“I thought I made it clear.” I sneered. “No.”

The next few moments were like watching a snake shed its skin and bare its fangs. The women in front of me was ridding herself of the many faces she wore over her true one, finally confronting me with those same cold, ruthless eyes that had began this never ending hell, and the same lips that uttered the command that allowed for such pain to be inflicted on me all those years ago. In a place I held as my safe haven, nonetheless.

Forcing my expression to remain neutral, I spoke. “It’s refreshing to finally speak to the real deal instead of those millions of personas you’ve harboured over the years. It gets exhausting.”

The women stood, her floral dress flowing with her every movement before she finally towered in front of me. She licked her thumb and began rubbing something off my cheek in a rough manner- in a painful manner. Slim fingers danced across my youthful skin and curled around my jaw, angling my head to look up at her. The pads of her fingers made sure to hold me tightly in place, a way for her to declare her never ending control over me. "Such a pretty face." She cooed, "Such a shame you're not the obedient little thing I raised you to be."

I attempted to pull away from her grasp, only for it to tighten. My lips twisted into a scowl. "I was trained to kill. What, did you expect me to turn out like one of those little ‘50s housewives? Ever-so ignorant and docile?”

She smiled.

"You want to see Jasper?" Her voice was hushed, making sure not to break the suffocating pressure of power, and my lack of, she knew I was drowning in despite the best I did to not display a hint of it on my face. But I could never get anything past the woman in front of me. Now was no exception.

I didn't dare to respond no matter badly I wanted to scream 'yes'.

But she could read the desperation in my eyes and answered for me with her following actions.

After finally releasing her grip and holding out her palm for the key tightly held in my palm, I gave in and placed the precious metal back into her possession.

I followed the woman through the door and down the main corridor. My body tensed at the amount of peering eyes averting towards us but I couldn't dwell on the feeling for long as a new anxiety began to rise within me. It was unnatural, something I've never felt before. Sure, I was anxious and practically filled to the brim with stress like never before, but I felt something else too- hope.

I was going to see the very person I swore to protect after three years of not seeing him and I was closer to ending this chapter of my life.

Ever since I was forced to work with Five, The Handler had prevented me from seeing Jasper, in fears of me "getting distracted" and "not paying Five enough attention."

Three years she had kept me away.

Three fucking years.

Finally, the clack of her heels came to an abrupt stop and a familiar ding of an elevator rang. The doors opened.

"You're the first person to come down here that isn't an executive." The Handler lifted a plastic case with a biometric thumbprint scanner and pressed onto a button that sent us plummeting through the Commissions deep underground. "Except from darling Jasper, of course."

The doors finally opened to a corridor that looked identical to the one above surface. I walked quick behind The Handlers heels until she spun to face me.

My heart was beating faster than I thought it would've. The anticipation and suspense felt like a side affect of a drug. One that could only be cured if The Handler would open the large metal door that stood ahead of me so I could finally see those amber eyes that I'd only been able to stare at in my dreams.

The woman laughed mockingly at my expression. "It'd be cruel to make you wait any longer."

The sound of a key twisting and metal screeching open made my heart leap up into my throat and crash down into my stomach.

That's when I saw him.

Thick black curls, tired honey brown eyes, and full lips that I'd sometimes catch myself staring at for a beat too long.

"Jasper."

Thank you all for the supportive comments- I'm not able to respond to comments on this account but please know that I am reading ALL OF THEM <33 I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! After a little under a year, I am finally back and I've got a lot planned for this fic so stay tuned...

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[strangerathecinema]

UMBRELLA ACADEMY NATION HOW ARE WE DOING AFTER THIS?

[dominik528]

Five & Lila: Enemies-to-lovers done right

As unexpected and controversial as the pairing of Five and Lila was for the final Umbrella Academy season, I have to say that the writers knocked it out of the park with the "enemies-to-lovers" development.

Now, was this romantic direction planned from the start? I highly doubt it. Even with their bathroom fight scene in season 3, with Lila obviously naked, I got absolutely no vibes of sexual tension. What I think happened was, since Castañeda and Arya broke up, the writers decided to spare them the awkwardness of continuing to play an on-screen couple, so they chose this trajectory.

When Lila and Five first meet, there is clear distrust and animosity between them, contrasting from her and Diego's bonding and quickening attraction. Five even threatens--and comes close to--killing Lila.

Then Lila's hostility grows when she learns that he's the one who killed her birth parents. After another fight, Five, calmly and reassuringly, says that he was acting under the orders of her adoptive mother, who arranged the hit and picked up the scared 4-year-old girl at the scene.

Come season 3, and Five now considers Lila as part of the family, even with Klaus pointing out how she tried to kill them a few days ago. But, of course, it's more of a begrudging allyship, seeing how the two still bicker and insult each other.

By the time season 4 rolled along, and we got the scene with Lila wiping away the sugar on Five's mustache, lingering, followed by Diego getting the wrong idea, I thought, 'Wait...' (The first hint that slipped by me was when he noticed her from afar earlier, like a scene out of a romance.) After that, I started anticipating more scenes between the two.

You can imagine my excitement by ep. 5, seeing two people who once despised and taunted each other now warming up to one another more and more, finally leading to a kiss. Yes, I had the actors' age difference in mind (Gallagher being over 18, Arya being in her 30s), but I still found myself adoring seeing Five being happy. After all, he'd grown bitter and cynical after spending over 40 years alone in a post-apocalyptic wasteland with an inanimate object for a companion, becoming a cold-hearted assassin, and only mainly showing his softer side towards Viktor. With the cottage core-like scenario at the greenhouse, I hoped that the series would end with the pair living similarly, like how Viktor tried to rebuild his life.

But then, I told myself to tamp those hopes down, considering what happened to every other relationship on this show: Viktor & Leonard, Viktor & Sissy (another unpopular ship I loved), Klaus & Dave, Allison & Ray (I was rooting for them in season 2!), Allison & Luther, Luther & Sloane (I was looking forward to them reuniting in this reset timeline☹️), and now, Diego & Lila. I'd recalled a quote from an article about Five having an "emotional arc" with Lila, giving himself a reason to live, and feared it meant that Lila was gonna get fridged.

The last 15 minutes of the show proved to be far worse than I imagined, leaving me and many viewers alike feeling empty inside.🙃For the first five episodes, I thought, 'This is enemies-to-lovers done right!' And then a chance for a satisfying conclusion to such an arc, along with long-suffering characters finding true happiness, was dashed away, just like the entire cast of Star Wars: Rogue One, and Kylo Ren and Rey in The Rise of Skywalker.💔

[phantasmicfish]

[tiredemzz]

during s2 be like:

random person - ya know somebody killed your adopted dad right?

fiora - yeah, so?

random person - aren’t you mad or upset?

fiora - eh, depends. My adopted father wasn’t a good man to start with.

random person - so you basically don’t care at all?

fiora - yup, pretty much

•

•

•

*legit five and fiora r chillin in the car*

klaus - five! fiora! start the car! *legit running from some people*

fiora - *still chillin, not waking up*

five - *sighs* can’t we get one day off without you causing something idiot! *falls out of the car, waking up fiora in the process*

fiora - he did something stupid again? jesus.

five - this is why we don’t take him with us

fiora - agreed

•

•

•

THEY FINALLY AGREED ON SOMETHING! :)

[hellomagicalsouls]

dance sequence in S4? any ideas for a song?

I would love to see come on eileen. that would be cool me thinks

all of them flailing around, happy, peaceful. nice way to end the series

happy ending for some people trying their best to an absolute banger

[em1989ts]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆

five hargreeves x reader

word count: 1.6k

book summary: five hargreeves gets lost in time and your father forces you to go after him, leaving you to get lost in a completely different kind of solitude. after decades, you meet at the hands of the handler, except you're not exactly happy to work with him after what he did. the two of you agree to put your differences aside until you save the world. how hard could that be?

author's note: this is the beginning of a story that i've been planning since august so now i'm finally writing about it! i'm more focused on uploading this for wattpad but i decided why not post it here as well. i plan on writing s1-s4 (hopefully i have the motivation) so please let me know your thoughts !! reblogs and comments much appreciated :)

On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began.

 Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

He got eight of them. 

~~~~~

“Don’t do it.” 

Five Hargreeves stood in front of the mirror in his room, his back to the door. The bell for breakfast was going to ring soon, but his mind wasn’t on a healthy start to the day. Minimal morning light entered his room through the edges of his curtains, his room remaining dark and motionless. He hadn’t noticed her pass by his room and turn around after catching a glimpse of his still figure in the corner of her eye. He hadn’t noticed her retrace her few steps and lean against the doorframe. He only noticed her presence once she announced it with solemn discouragement. 

He had been contemplating for days. He knew he was ready for this. He told himself so. He couldn’t back down at this point, he had already set his mind to it. Backing down would look weak. He wasn’t weak. 

His expression was stoic as he stared at himself for a moment longer, then turned to face her at the door. 

Without her domino mask, her face remained impassive. She rarely displayed any emotion, except for the fact that her face at rest made her seem constantly angered. But as of right now, she showed no frown, no furrowed brow, not even a blink. 

They stood a few feet apart. Once he looked directly in her eyes he could see a sliver of something. He knew she didn’t want him to leave. He just thought she underestimated him, that she didn’t believe in him, that she was envious of him. But that look in her eye told him a different story. Something he’d never seen in her before, not that he ever paid too close of attention to her or anything like that. They had never gotten along. They never cared or looked out for each other, so why was she pulling this now?

She watched him intensely, almost staring through his soul, trying to reach though him to his conscious and convince him not to make the biggest mistake of his life. 

But they wouldn’t know it. Not then, anyway. 

The breakfast bell rang and the doors of the other children opened up swiftly as they filed through the hallway in a swift, orderly fashion to get to their assigned places in efficient time. 

Neither Five nor Eight moved. They stayed staring into each other's eyes trying to communicate something through their unintelligible irises. They’d played this game before. Intense staring contests in hopes of the other backing down, awarding a feeling of eminence to the victor until the next time they decided to face head to head. 

This time, her eyes weren’t challenging. They were pleading, vulnerable to his attacks in the hopes he’ll stand down and listen to her for once. His eyes were defensive. He trusted himself and that was all he needed. His stature grew colder until he walked over to her position against the doorframe. 

She shuddered as he got closer. He seemed so lost yet so certain. She could feel it in the darkness that morning that something was about to go horribly wrong. She heard it through the shadows. 

Five would never understand this interaction. Not until years later. He never knew how she could have known, especially since she hadn’t been trusted with his plans for time travel. 

He stopped in front of her less stoic, more distraught face. He looked through his angered eyes into hers. 

“Watch me.” 

~

She never went down to breakfast that day. Knowing exactly what happened after he rushed to his place behind his chair. They sat and ate, he stood up, played his cards, failed, and ran off like the scared child he was. 

She watched him though the velvet curtains that obscured her normally pitch black room from the outside world. The light was let in, casting her face in a warm haze as she watched him run off. Free. Arrogant. Until a flash of blue light took him away. 

Letting go of the curtain, the sunlight vanished from her room, leaving her in her usual darkness, feeling her usual repugnance. She knew she would be reprimanded by her father for not going downstairs. She didn’t want to face him, not while knowing her own failure.  

She could have tried harder. She could have done more. That’s what everyone would tell her. 

She could have cared more. But she didn’t. Not at this moment in time anyway. 

She could’ve made him fall into his own shadow, leaving him no possibility of escape. 

But she didn’t. 

There was no arguing with Five. His thirteen year old self was difficult. He was so prideful that there was no chance he would ever back down from whatever he set his mind to. He would never admit being wrong or at fault.

He would come to regret this. 

He would regret the fact that he never listened to his father. How he never listened to Eight as she tried to stop him, to help him for once in her life. 

Once Reginald Hargreeves realized that Number Five had lost himself in time, he did what he could to retrieve the child. He also decided to double this rescue mission as a punishment for Number Eight. 

~ 

“You will not leave here until you find Number Five and return him to this time.” 

They were in the basement. The cold, dark basement that gave each of the Hargreeves children nightmares for weeks after they’d been escorted here. Their powers tested in ways that messed with their minds and fears. 

If Number Eight was afraid, she didn’t show it. She was however, without a doubt. 

She hadn’t been down here for years. She had learned to manage her fear of the dark at a very young age. With her power, she had to, otherwise she’d be utterly useless. 

She had to control the voices echoing in the void. The whispering, screaming, threatening, comforting voices that escaped the darkness to haunt the one child who could hear them. 

Reginald opened the chamber door, made to withstand the powers of the children, and instructed Eight to enter. 

She did as she was told, but as Reginald recited his desired outcome, concern overcame her. 

As Pogo shut the door and secured it, the room was completely dark. Of course she was used to the darkness, she thrived in it, but she couldn’t handle being trapped in here forever.

During her trainings, she had been told to practice traveling through the void. The void was the term her father used to describe complete darkness, or a very large shadow. She could enter the void by disappearing into her own shadow, someone else's shadow, or shadows made by objects. 

Her father had made her practice entering one shadow, traveling through the void, and exiting through another. It had worked, but navigating in pure darkness is not as easy as it may seem. 

Once her father and Pogo had returned upstairs, the basement light was shut off. With no one around to witness. She screamed. She yelled and cried on the floor until she became tired and dull. While she lay on the cold cement ground, she figured to herself that Reginald Hargreeves couldn’t possibly leave her here. To starve. To freeze. But he did. Not intentionally. 

Reginald Hargreeves did intend to let her out within 48 hours, however when he returned to the basement with Pogo holding out a small flashlight against the window of the chamber, they noticed it was completely empty. Number Eight had vanished. Lost in darkness. Lost in space. Lost.

Just like Number Five. 

She wouldn’t be found for many years.

Her body dormant in the conditions of the void, her mind wide awake. 

Light never met her eyes. Not a drop of sunlight met her skin for decades. 

She knew she shouldn’t be alive. She hadn’t eaten, yet she could feel her skin wrinkle with time. 

Without any idea how long she had been trapped, she just assumed she was dead. 

Until she heard clicking amongst the voices. 

It was often that a shadow nearby had some sort of ambience behind it. Whether it was the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, with its smells and sounds of Paris, or the shadow behind a TV, letting her hear the yells and cheers of football fans during a big game. 

She would often linger around those noises, to feel a sense of familiarity for a normal life she’d been imagining in her head, the darkness as the perfect blank canvas. Never getting too close in fears of everything becoming too real. 

Until these clicking noises grew closer. 

The clicking of high heels against a smooth floor.

Suddenly illuminated through the flick of a zippo, a tall, well dressed woman came into view. Number Eight jumped and hid behind her hands, not expecting to be blinded by such a small flame. As she brought her hands in front of her face, she saw just how wrinkled they were, how much she had aged. 

“I’ve come to offer you a job, Number Eight.” 

☂︎

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒐

authors note: thank you so much for reading! i appreciate it sm :) if you want to be on the taglist for upcoming chapters please let me know ! also if you have any ideas for upcoming chapters or other fics my inbox is open i'd love to hear your ideas!

read 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏 on wattpad!

[dried-deep-sea]

When the internet told me Five and Lila have a thing at first I was like hell no, those blorbos don't kiss, what's happening. And then I watched it and now I ship it. Like high key.

[embodyingchaos]

( > 〰 < ) tua masterlist

last updated: — newest: —

rules for requesting: ✮ disclaimer: i do not do smut, i can do dark themes such as stalking, etc. requests are open.

five hargreeves - none yet. ben hargreeves - none yet.

[bringmebacktoyou]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: The Umbrella Academy (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)/Original Male Character(s), Past Number Five | The Boy/ Lila Pitts, Number Five | The Boy & Mr. Pennycrumb, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added Characters: Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Original Male Character(s), Lila Pitts, Other Character Tags to Be Added, Theo Katz Additional Tags: Number Five | The Boy-centric, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy Gets A Hug, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, what tension?, you'll find out, Unhealthy Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, I mean it, i guess?, Raw Love, So Wrong It's Right, Boys In Love, Love at First Sight, but not really, Strangers to Lovers, But its real love guys, Fluff and Angst, yep, this will be fluff, Cause I Said So, angst at the start, And then more angst, and then porbably more angst, yk the drill, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, okay so, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Here is the list of why you should not read this, :, Mentally unstable character(s), psychotic tendencies, Obsessive Behavior, Feral Behavior, Blood and Gore, Mild Gore, ...In a bad kind of way, twisted feelings, Killing, Slaughter, Killing the innocent, eat the rich, going crazy, Five always was a little crazy, Big Gay Love Story, Fluff, Love Story, there will be alot of Fluff, and alot of angst, idk which one to choose so I chose both, Enemies to Lovers, and i MEAN the enemies, I lied by the way, NO FLUFF FOR YOU, theres fluff if you squint your eyes, or close them, Close Your Eyes And You'll see Fluff, Slow Burn, I meant it when I say its slow Summary:

After Lila breaks Five's heart and tells him it's over, he decides to leave everything behind and disappear into the subway. Alone in the dark, he thinks he'll never return. But then he encounters a boy who, like him, is lost in the depths of the subway.

Will they join forces to fight for their futures and save the timelines, or will their connection evolve into a raw obsession? As their relationship develops, Five finds himself torn between healing and getting devoured alive by his feelings for this new boy.

[reareaotaku]

True Hate-filled Love

Summary: You hate Five and he hates you, but maybe with one simple agreement you can see one another from the other's view Pairings: Five Hargreeves x Reader Tw: Enemies to Lovers, Klaus shenanigans, Ganging-up on Klaus/Clowning Five, Klaus was a flat-earther???? [Since Umbrella Academy is trending and the new season was ass, I'll give you something better written than the whole season]

You and Five never agreed on anything. If you said the sky was blue or that the grass was green, he would disagree with you and vice versa. Even if the other agreed, your pride was too high to admit that maybe the other person was right. It was one of the flaws you both shared, along with your mutual hatred for each other. Though, maybe you didn't hate each other as much as you thought.

It all started one afternoon, when you and Five were sitting in the kitchen in quiet; For the first time ever. Unluckily for you both, Klaus was more than happy to ruin the peace you both had created with each other for the first time since knowing each other.

You ignored his presence at first because you didn't want to give him much thought. That was until he said something so incredibly stupid that you had to sit up and look at Five to make sure he heard it too. Five was already looking at Klaus like he was the dumbest person in the world.

"God, I wonder how often you were dropped on your head as a baby."

"More like thrown into a wall," You joke, causing Five to let out a chuckle.

"Knowing our father, he probably was."

"You two aren't funny," Klaus complains.

"And you're an idiot. What's your point?" You remark, not taking him seriously at all.

"It was just a question."

"One so stupid, that Y/n and I are in agreement for once in our lives."

"How stupid do you have to be for that?"

Klaus groans, rolling his eyes, "You know what, it's not even that big of a deal. It doesn't matter. It's like when you argued with me about the world not being flat."

"You think that world's flat?" You asked, clearly taken a back.

Klaus rolls his eyes, shaking his head, as he lets out a chuckle, "Of course not."

"Oh yeah," Five says, laughing as he leans into it. "You should of been there, you would have loved it."

"God, I can't even imagine how that went down."

"Not well."

"Oh, so you two are now buddy buddy? Gross," Klaus looks away from you both. "You'll be back to fighting in like five minutes."

"With you around? I might actually start to like Five more than you."

"That bar can't be very high," Five jokes, causing you to high-five him.

"Not at all."