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Tua Five - Blog Posts
I need a group of people to recreate the I think we’re alone now scene from the umbrella academy with me
Justice for five he spent years trying to make it back to his family from the apocalypse just to stop like three of them just for him to be told to give up in the end because there was nothing he could do then right before he found out he had to die he was stuck in a train station for seven years fell in love with Lila all for it to be ripped from him (I hate Lila and fives weird relationship thing but I digress)
This last season did five dirty he died thinking Lila used him he died thinking Diego was mad at him he died thinking he was useless he died right as his life was turning around and then on top of the I don’t think he’s ever been hugged
This last season did five dirty he died thinking Lila used, him he died thinking Diego was mad at him, he died thinking he was useless, and he died right as his life was turning around then on top of the I don’t think he’s ever been hugged.
i really like this one
One of my ocs in the tua verse. She doesn't have powers it was just a birth defect, no it's not a real one, it's just that she can open her face instead of having a normal mouth.
Facts:
was not born with powers (birth defect)
Sharp teeth
Last to be adopted (10 years old)
Five is her best friend since they both went to the apocalypse together (she was 12 and five was 13)
Buzzcuts her hair because yass queen slay
Has moles
full of homicidal rage
Eventually besties with alfonso
Becomes Jayme's girlfriend (GAY)
kind of became five's assistant through the years in the apocalypse
"it's fine" she managed to seethe through her teeth in anger.
Her arms look like mannequin arms
Five likes to play with her arms
Really close with five
Wears the boy uniform
Gets a cat (s2)
Is known as number 8
Longs to be "normal"
At some point had a crush on five but it went away when she saw him eating a cockroach in the apocalypse (lol)
Love language: touch, death threats
"I... I'd chop you up in a meat grinder.. and the only thing that'll come out is your eyeball.."
When her mouth is closed it will look like she has a slit through her face from the top of her head to her chin
Does not have a tongue
How does something so small have so much sass?
Years of anger issues
Chaos
[Part I] [Part II]
[Five Hargreeves x Reader]
Summary : A very chaotic reunion.
Warning : None.
Chaos isn't something Five Hargreeves would choose willingly. Ever.
He wants a break.
From being a child superhero, to getting stuck in the apocalypse, then the journey of being an assassin, and proceeding to prevent the aforementioned apocalypse.
Him and his mind have been on a never-ending marathon.
So pardon him if he wants to take a step back and just relax.
This road trip was supposed to be the first step.
Was. Because Klaus derailed his plan.
Although, he'd admit that it hasn't been entirely unpleasant, as he waits for Klaus by the car, he concurs that this trip so far is nice.
The green field stretching around him, the subtle caress of sunshine, the gentle breeze, the complete absence of Homo sapiens. It's all very relaxing.
There's a sound. The distinctive sound made by cows. A cow's moo, to be precise.
His gaze trails over towards the sound— cattle grazing peacefully. He smiles, taking a deep breathe—
And promptly chokes.
Chaos isn't something Five Hargreeves would choose willingly. Ever.
But that doesn't mean, Chaos would show him the same courtesy.
Because Chaos, it seems, has a taste for him.
Deceptive in the appearance, well mixed among the shades of brown, black, and white. There, amid the serene creatures, stands chaos incarnate—
You.
Don't, his mind warns.
And of course, he won't. This is supposed to be his retirement. Why would he want to turn that upside down? Ridiculous notion, really. He would not—
His mouth has a mind of its own because it has already parted and yelled your name.
His voice echoes. Your name echoes. And if he must be dramatic, then the time has come to a standstill.
In a blink, your head snaps in his direction.
You blink. Once. Twice.
A grin spreads across your face—and he's startled by the confusing thought that whether it's really the sun that's shining or it's just you.
"FIVE!"
And you're running. Hands wide open. His eyes widen—feeling like a man standing before a bull, red cloth in hand—You're running, running towards him.
You are closer. And closer. Closer—
You trip.
Five sighs. In a few long strides, he closes the distance between you two.
Hand gripping you above the elbow, he hauls you up. "Are you okay?"
"Okay? No, I am not!" You reply, though your expression remains ecstatic. "I am—I am—I am," your brows crinkle in thought.
"Are you—"
"Phantasmagorical!" You exclaim. Fingers curling around his arms, you shake him a bit. "I'm phantasmagorical because I've met you. Been soo long."
Squealing, you hug him.
His palm is on your back in an instant, supporting you as you stand on your tiptoes.
He breathes in, willing his muscles to uncoil. It takes a few seconds before he lets himself rest his chin on your head.
All too soon, you release him.
He shoves his hands in his pockets, lest he did something stupid like draw you back again.
"What are you doing here?"
"Where?" You tilt your head, nose scrunching in a way he has always found adorable.
"Among the," gesturing towards the surroundings, "Amish."
"Ah yes," you nod, in a sage voice, "For peace."
He quirks a brow. "Really?"
"No."
A smile threatens to curl at his lips. "Then?"
"So there's this husband-wife duo, and they were my neighbours in the city. And then they stole stuff from my house. So, they're not husband-wife duo but thief duo, which honestly I kinda respect—"
"So you came back to get your stuff back?" He queries, cutting off what would undoubtedly be a long ramble.
You nod in an absentminded fashion, before snapping out of it. "What? No!"
He exhales in exasperation. "Then why?"
"I came here to get Lila's kraken plushie—"
"Wait, Lila is here?"
"Yeah, we came together—"
"What's she doing—"
Your fingers snap his lips shut together. Literally.
"No Lila. Pay attention to me. I'm here." And as if to prove that you are indeed here, you start jumping in front of him, hand open like wings, chanting, 'eyes on me, eyes on me, eyes on me.'
As if his eyes are even capable of being anywhere but at you when you're near him.
Rolling his eyes, he grips your 'wings' and pulls you closer.
"I'm never not looking at you," his mouth seems to have found a mind of its own.
There's a flush rising on your cheeks, and he feels a twinge of pride at extracting such a reaction.
"As you should," you say.
His confidence abandons him in a sudden manner when you peer up at him through your lashes.
He looks away, stepping back. Clearing his throat. "Need any help retrieving the stolen item?"
"Oh, I got it back on the first day I arrived here."
"Then why are you still here?"
"Having a bit of fun with the thief duo."
"So, antagonising them, and being a general chaos," he surmises.
"Haven't I told you, the thing about chaos is that—"
"It's fair, yeah, you have."
"You know what's not fair?"
"What would that be?"
In response, you settle your hand on his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair on the nape.
He suppresses a shiver.
"Having figured out that the more the love, the more the chaos. And then not being able to confess, for almost two years. Because, you see, it happened after I caused a bar fight after telling a man that this other man was making goo-goo eyes at his boyfriend. And then a brawl started, and I thought, 'huh, look what chaos love can cause.' And then I realised that If I'm chaos, then love is you—"
"What?" His voice is a whisper.
"You are the fuse of my chaos. And I would really like to be the fuse of your love, which is only fair—"
"What?" His brain is lagging.
"I love you!"
"What?" White noise.
You huff, standing on your tiptoes, face dangerously close to his—his heart is travelling all around his body in a frenzy—and his eyes close.
His nose stings.
You… You bit his nose.
His eyes flutter open, fixing on you. Rubbing a hand over the ache. "You absolute menace."
"Your menace."
Well, that's just unfair. Especially that impish smile of yours. "My menace are you now?"
"No."
Oh, for fuck's sake—
"But I want to be," you continue. "Will you let me be?"
Maybe his response is a bit too quick when he says :
"Yes," relief apparent in his voice. Tugging you near him, enveloping you in an embrace.
"My menace, mine." He words it out loud to solidify this moment, sealing it in the space-time continuum by pressing a kiss against your temple.
You both sway lightly, finding a middle ground between chaos and calm.
But of course, being the magnet for all things chaotic that you are, it doesn't last long.
In a flow, the cows explode and then Klaus is shouting, Amish people chasing him down.
And you?
You are giggling in pure delight. "Oh, isn't this fun?"
He says nothing as he puts you over his shoulder, blinks into the car, and promptly deposits you on the passenger seat.
And as he drives, he glances at you and Klaus— rambling and laughing and causing a ruckus.
Chaos isn't something Five Hargreeves would choose willingly. Ever.
But, if it's you, he'd make an exception.
..................................................................................
A/N :
And here is part two.
Hope you guys enjoyed this.
Thankyou! ❤
[ @slut4fictionalcharacters28 It's here. ]
Stain
[Five Hargreeves x Reader]
Summary : You Paint Five.
Warning : None? But feels like there should be. Romanticism?
"I want to paint you."
The words escape past your lips like a shot. Swift and precise.
You have been sitting in his room for the past two hours. The two of you are next to the window, on the floor, reading. Or trying to anyway, considering you cannot focus on anything apart from him.
Something about the sunlight filtering through the window, casting shades of warm hued colors— mixed in a way you couldn't decipher one from another, made him look like a real life painting.
Your hands itch with the need to capture it. To hold this moment in your hand and spill it on a canvas. The thought loads in your mind, and before you know the trigger is pulled.
And here we are.
Five staring at you, confusion etched across his face. As though he's not quite sure what you said.
"What?"
In any other instance, you would have changed the topic. But now, now that you've expressed your wish, you don't want to back down. If anything, it has your desire intensifying.
"I want to paint you," You repeat, this time soft. A plea.
"Wh—"
"Shhh."
He has questions. He always has questions. Right now, you can't see past your desire to paint him. So, silencing him is the best option.
"Please," a whisper.
He considers you, gear turning behind his eyes, contemplating, weighing the pros and cons. By the end of his thought process, his eyes soften, and he nods.
"Alright."
You smile. Biting the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning. "Could you blink into my room, and bring my supplies?"
He huffs in exasperation. Yet, the curl of his lips has a shadow of fondness to it.
30 mins in and you find yourself losing concentration.
It's not that you don't want to paint him anymore. Not at all.
The certain craving you had has subsided now that paint covers your hands. But not entirely, there's still something beneath the surface, a hidden ache of sorts.
That, and Five cannot seem to sit still.
"Stop moving," You order.
"I'm not," he retorts, as he leans over slightly.
Exhaling in annoyance, you decide to take matters in your own hands.
Shifting closer to him, your free hand closes around his jaw in a soft grip.
It works.
He's stiller than a statue, you muse, continuing with your task. A few moments pass before you notice thinking, I would say he's barely even breathing—
Your gaze snaps towards him.
You realize the gravity of the situation.
Lost in your painting, you shifted close to him. Far too close to him. Like closer than appropriate. Oh, you get the breathing thing now, you are on the same ground.
If you were to lean in just a bit, your nose would brush his.
The paintbrush falls off your hand.
You gulp. Eyes flickering between his.
Then something happens. Something magical, like a spell cast.
In a languid manner, he lifts his hand and covers yours—the one holding his jaw—in a grip similar to yours.
Eyes locking with you, holding captive, he makes your hands slide from the corner of his jaw towards his opposite cheekbone. Smearing the pale flesh in the shade of vermilion.
Your breathing quivers. Heart stuttering.
He lets go of your hand.
And said hand, seemingly on its own accord, trails down in a slow move—from cheekbone to jaw before stopping near his carotid artery. The pulse flutters against the tips of your fingers.
He lets out a shaky exhale. His eyes scan your face. You wonder, if they leave stains of blue in their wake. Imprinting you in a way unseen.
Your gaze peers into his. And you find yourself losing touch with everything, as though the world has gone blurry, and it's raining down upon the two of you.
You are lost. Lost in the sun dipping in the ocean of his eyes. Lost in shades of crimson. Lost in this honey glazed moment. Lost. Lost. Lost.
Blinking through hooded eyes, you watch him lean into your left, cheeks a breath away from touching.
"What are you doing?" you hush. Too afraid to speak louder, lest the noise disturbs the tranquility of stillness.
He presses his cheek against yours ever so slightly, the presence akin to a feather's touch. Yet, you feel the paint, from him to you, it seeps through your skin into your bloodstream and sings.
"Painting you," he whispers, voice strained as though the words escaping without his permission, leaning back—cheek against cheek, tendrils of warm crimson.—he spills the color from his being to yours, "in my color."
The words inject euphoria in your heart. It beats wildly inside the cage of your ribs, wishing for nothing more than to break free and surrender itself to him.
This is what you were craving, you realize. The ache dissolves. His confession. His admission.
With him, you wanted the colors of your essence to merge. Mixing the shades until one couldn't recognize him from you, and you from him.
Perhaps, you didn't want to paint him so much as be painted in him.
..................................................................................
A/N :
This feels so unpolished but I'm so tired that I cannot edit and stuff. So, sorry about that. Maybe I'll edit it later.
Out of context gif because using Five's gif felt wrong.
It's not even something like that or anything yet it feels like it. I went through the motions of, should I post it or not. But considering any review helps me improve my writing, I decided to post. Damn maybe I'll delete it later 😭
Still hope you guys like it.
Thankyou! ❤
From the Shadows
[Part I] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV]
[Five Hargreeves x Reader]
Summary : The fact of the matter is, unrequited love sucks.
Warning : None.
“A mighty pain to love it is, And ‘t is a pain that pain to miss; But of all pains, the greatest pain It is to love, but love in vain.”
Ain't that the truth, you think. Gaze running over the tattered pages of your journal, reading the poem over and over again— as though it might soothe the sting.
Unrequited love sucks.
Your eyes dart up from your journal, fixing on the subject of your thoughts.
Five Hargreeves.
Sitting a seat forward on your left, next to the window. Head tilted down, scribbling away, wholly oblivious to your stare.
It'd caused such a ruckus in the school when 'The Umbrella Academy' started attending. Whispers and wide-eyed stares followed them, like they were stars—which fair they kinda are. It took months before things settled down.
Not that the stares and whispers stopped, mind you, they are still the apple of everyone's eyes, the students just got less starstruck and more subtle.
As for you?
After being paired for a project with Ben in literature class, you'd gotten closer to some of the others, emphasis on some.
Luther had shown clear disapproval at your appearance—something about you being an outsider. Diego too prickly, and prefers to brood. Allison too busy with theater, although you still exchanged polite greetings.
Klaus, Ben, and Viktor, on the other hand, had welcomed you with warmth. Ben and Viktor share your love for literature, and Klaus brings along an impulsive kind of fun with him, which you are all too eager to participate in.
Which brings you back to— Five. You still don't know how you became friends with him.
All you know is one afternoon you were waiting for your friends in the empty library, only to receive a text that they were bunking. You remember saying—
"Damn you, Klaus!"
"I share that sentiment," a voice spoke, startling you.
You turned around, eyes settling on the culprit. Five Hargreeves. He stood, leaning against the bookshelf, hands shoved in his pockets.
You'd talked to him a handful of times, during class, or when with his siblings. Acquaintances at best, still you both never tried to initiate a friendship or conversation.
"Seems someone was ditched," he continued, an easy smirk on his face. "I feel like I should ask you to join me," the smirk grew, "out of the goodness of my heart."
"And why, exactly, am I being showered in such kindness?" You retort. Lips curling upwards as you stepped towards him.
"Haven't you heard?" He tilted his head, a brow rising. "I'm a superhero. Benevolence is kinda our thing."
"Is that so?" you asked.
He gave a nod, mirth gleaming.
"How will I ever repay for such generosity?" Eyes widening dramatically.
"Well," a mocking frown, he pursued his lips. "You can promise to stay quiet as I work? Not too much, is it?"
You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped past your lips. You looked at him, taking note of the tiny curl of his lips.
"Lead the way."
And that was that. After that, talking to him became a routine, and before you knew it you'd grown much closer to him than Ben, or Klaus or Viktor.
It's been two years since you both became friends. Almost a year since you realized you're in love with him.
It feels like it happened all of a sudden and simultaneously, as though every second and every moment spent with him led to it.
Everyone knows. Your best friend. Ben, Klaus, Viktor. You have a suspicion that even Diego knows. And yet, it's a secret.
A secret that protects itself. Only from him.
You are a coward. You don't—can't fathom confessing to him. So, you stay in the shadows. And your love stays there with you.
You and your love.
From the shadows.
Your gaze clears at the thought—stepping out of the reverie—and locks on him again.
The sunlight filtering through, tracing his skin, making him even more mystical. A blue hue in his eyes as he concentrates on whatever he is working on. The furrow of his brow, the twitch of his nose.
Him in his entirety. Extraordinary.
You sigh. Extraordinary sounds like such a beautiful compliment, but not to you. To you, him being extraordinary means he's that much out of reach. Your reach.
Like, no matter what, there's always going to be an invisible line between you two. Separating you.
"You are staring," a voice cuts through. "Again."
Tell me something new.
You turn in the direction of it. Peering at your best friend. "Yes, Lila," you deadpan.
Lila, your best friend.
"It's pathetic."
Lila, your childhood best friend who has no filter.
"Yes, Lila," you agree. Honestly, at this point you're devoid of shame.
"Seriously, what do you even see in him?"
You open your mouth to question what she sees in the brooder, but your attention diverts.
Gaze narrowing at the feminine hand that has curled around Five's hand, to draw his attention. And yours inevitably.
Dolores.
You almost dismiss her. Almost.
It's Five. He'll brush the girl off. It's what he does. Has always done.
Not this time, it seems.
Because Five smiles.
A seed of dread plants itself in your stomach.
You look between the two of them. The smiles on their faces resonates a sinking feeling in your heart.
Yeah, unrequited love sucks.
..................................................................................
A/N :
Hello!
The poem at the start is by Abraham Cowley. Beautiful isn't it?
I really wanted to write an AU like this tbh, unrequited love kinda one. Angsty. So here it is. This one will have more parts btw.
Also for those who're waiting for Ballerinas & Brellies, I'm working on the chapter it's taking a bit longer, sorry about that.
I'm considering making a taglist, so like if you guys want to be added let me know.
Hope you enjoyed this.
Thankyou! ❤
Just thought about why Five trusted Vanya the most even after so long.
Other than Dolores, his next most constant (companion) is Vanya's book. It's her thoughts and experiences he's reading and accompanied by. He may hear Dolores's voice in his head, but amongst his siblings, Vanya is the one who he feels is by his side, making him feel like he can trust the woman that wrote the book when he came back.
Just a thought though.
I DONT WANNA FUCKING TALK ABOUT IT OKAY!!????
Are lila and diego gonna lose their kid???
I genuinely cant imagine another scenario where five and lila would hug like this ?????
I think they both hate mondays
That awkward moment When you’re trapped in your 13 year old body and have to save the world from ending
Klaus: “You dont understand the intricacies of the skibidi toilet rizz, tiny dancer”
Five: “Can you SHUT THE FUCK UP”
EMO HAIRCUT FIVE I LOVE YOU
The frost, it looks like dust has settled on the world
After everyone’s long been gone
But me, I was hidin’
Or forgotten, the only one left
TUA S4 TRAILER TMR BABY!1!!1!
The frost, it looks like dust has settled on the world
After everyone’s long been gone
But me, I was hidin’
Or forgotten, the only one left
Five screenshot redraw
Number Zero.
Five Hargreaves x Sparrow! black reader,NOT A CHAPTER.
Summary: Diana is a Sparrow that was born with wings. She flying because of how light they were and flexible. But for the most part, she hinds them one day, and she walks into her living room and see Seven Stranger in her house, but she just ignored them.
Warnings: Fluff, Bad words, violence, nudity, flirting, age gap, Smut?, drinking, smoking, death, powers.
..............................................................................................................
Diana is 28 and has four different powers, and all of them are connected to her wings.
ONE: She can walk through any solid objects whenever she walks through the thing, and it leaves a pile feather behind.
TWO: Diana can fly that simple she can fly like birds do.
THREE: Diana and suck the life out of someone's body if she looks at them. An what thus power she can move their blood around.
FOUR: She has mind control not as power ful as Allison but just enough to get her what she wants.
Her wings:
Next chapter:
five hargreeves is nonbinary you heard it here first
Is one of is hobbys fr
Viktor: what do you call disobeying the law?
Five: a hobby
Luther: *stares intensely at Five*
Five:...that we don't engage in
I wanna do an animation of five, doing the we both reach for the gun song but it's 13yr him as Roxie and 58/72 yr him as Billy and I'm not sure background characters but I kinda want Delores as the female journalist but I know I'll end giving up on it but it's a nice idea to think about, if yk the clip I'm talking about and if I do , do it I would want to post it
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