THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY MASTERLIST °•°

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FICS

• Five Hargreeves

Silver Linings Playbook-In which, Five Hargreeves didn’t see the silver lining and one day you point it out to him. 

Come on Get Higher-We go through such difficult times it’s a wonder how one continues on.

• Klaus Hargreeves

Grand Piano- Shaky fingers become steady hands once they dance upon the keys of a piano forte.

• Luther Hargreeves

Rocket-Man- I’m a rocket-man, burning out his fuse up here alone.

HEADCANONS

• Klaus Hargreeves

Do You Wish on Burning Stars?- comforting Klaus Hargreeves headcanons

So Long, Farewell, Good Evening and Good Night!- Klaus Hargreeves dating a shy reader.

The World No Longer Collapses- Cuddling with Klaus Hargreeves

• Five Hargreeves

Bonnie and Clyde 2.0- Five Hargreeves dating a short reader.

SERIES

none yet!

PLAYLISTS

none yet!

Silver Linings Playbook

Pairing:Five Hargreeves x gn!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k 

Warnings:Swearing

A/N:Yes, I stole the title from the movie Silver Lining’s Playbook (an enjoyable movie by the way) and yes this can be viewed as platonic or romantic. I’m not writing a minor a fucking grandeur love story. 

Summary:In which, Five Hargreeves didn’t see the silver lining and one day you point it out to him. 

Despite the sun’s menacing glare, you couldn’t help but find it beautiful. 

On the contrary, Five Hargreeves resolutely disagreed. 

In his mind, there was nothing redeeming or remotely beautiful about the apocalyptic ruins in which you two walked. Survival was his main focus although what drove him, he didn’t know. Maybe it was in hopes of seeing his family again. In hopes that he could get you back to yours. These were the few miniscule ideas that kept him going despite the sun’s heat and the intense growl in his stomach. 

“Today’s a nice day.” you say, pulling the sheet that clothed your hair down further. 

“I think we have two very different definitions of nice.” he sighed, kicking the rocks that lay in his path. 

You shake your head, taking a small swig of your water. “No. I just think you’re choosing not to stop and take a look.” 

“At what?” 

“The world.” 

“I can see the world, Y/N. It’s shit.”

That was the thing about you that Five found odd. He had found you on his twelfth day in the future sitting in the ruins of a building with an expired can of fruit and a book in your hand. A pathetic picture to come across if you asked him. You had no recollection of how you survived or where you were from. Five had almost made the decision of leaving you but the small sliver of humanity that was left had won the mental debate and here he was. 

You had an unique optimism and with anyone else it would have bothered him. The attitude typically followed with a bubbly personality and Five had little to no patience with most people but bubbly people especially. However, you talked of the silly, somewhat romantic, ideas in a serene tone that reminded him of his brother, Klaus. It was that peaceful aura of yours that kept him company through the rougher days. He wouldn’t ever admit it but you kept him from falling off the deep end. 

He would say sanity but he figured he was far past gone in that department. 

“I mean the good stuff. It may be hard to see from where we stand but there’s some good.” 

He bit back a sarcastic laugh. “Like what?” 

You fell into step with him, squinting in the shine of the sun. “Well, I finally took the time to read. I didn’t know I would enjoy it this much.” 

Five scoffs. “That’s nice.” 

You sigh at his sarcastic remark, though you were used to them by now. The sun was setting now similar to the hue of an egg yolk. Heat still lingered on your skin as you looked at him with a smile. “Come on. There has to be something that you’re grateful for. Something that keeps you going.” 

His façade seemed to glitch for a mere second before he recollected himself once more. One thing came to his mind. Something was more along the lines of someone, that someone being you. Of course, he wouldn’t tell you that. There was no need to be vulnerable and make matters more complicated than they already were. 

“Yeah. Your pestering.” he jokes with a smirk. His eyes fall on some ruins with odd books sticking out and astray. He nodded to the hideaway, lugging the small collection of necessities he had brought with him. 

“Nice to know my voice keeps us alive. That’s very sweet of you, Five.” you tease, collapsing against the wall. 

He rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his water. You pick up the stack of books that lay by your side, flipping the pages with a sigh. Five watches as you toss it aside, flipping through another only to do the same. “They’re in Greek.” 

“Hand me those.” he calls. You lift the book to him, his fingers lightly grazing yours during the exchange. Five flips the book to its title. “Oedipus Rex.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “You read Greek?” 

He nods, turning the page. “η σκηνή” 

Your eyes light up with curiosity. “What does that mean?” 

Five looks up, your eyes the brightest he’d seen them in a while despite the need for sleep that lingered in them. He sighed, clearing his throat as you smiled. “The Scene. Before the palace of Oedipus, King of Thebes. A central door and two lateral doors open onto a platform which runs the length of the façade…” 

You watched Five as he read, noticing the miniscule changes in his demeanor. The stern countenance in his eyes dimmed to a soft curiosity, similar to a small child’s. His face relaxed and his voice no longer scolded but flowed gently as he read. In his peace, you found sweet lullabies that drew your eyes closed as the journeys of Oedipus faded from your mind. 

>>><<<

You and Five decided on staying at the ruins for a bit. Enough food and accessible water was around to make camp for a few days. When the sun shone the two of you worked making little to no conversation. Five preferred to scavenge in silence and you didn’t mind obliging to his few demands. It was mainly at night in which the two of you conversed, when the air was cooler and the day at an end. 

“Hey, Five.” you mumble. 

Both of you laid with your backs on the ground. Your eyes were gazing upwards as were Five’s. “Yeah, Y/N?” 

“Isn’t it odd that the one thing that stayed the same in the world were the stars?” 

He nodded. “If anything they got brighter.” he added. 

“Yeah. It’s like we’re looking at one big storybook.” you say, pointing out lines of stars. “Leo, Ursa, Sextans.” Five follows your finger, a bright star lying under the tip. “That bright star right there is Regulus. Each constellation has a myth.” 

“Myths by the Greeks. And the Greeks loved their tragedies.” he tapped the book that lay by his side. “Look at old Oedipus here. He’s suffering a pretty bad fate I’d say.” 

“Not all stories are tragic. Actually most stories have happy endings I would say. If I were in a story this would all be so easy.” 

Five shakes his head. “I disagree. Technically we’ll be a story and our ending isn’t happy at all.” 

You turn to him. “You think so?” 

He turns to you with a smirk. “Sure. An untold one. But I don’t see a happy ending in sight for us.” 

“Now I’m going to have to disagree.” you say quietly. “There’s always a silver lining.” 

A silver lining. It was something so common yet so uniquely you. Of course you believed in them. After all you still had hope despite Five’s persistent effort to get your head out of the clouds and your feet back on the ground. He had never believed in silver linings but he liked the idea when you said it. It seemed real. Genuine. 

Your eyes wander to the stars once more with a smile. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I think the best stories are the saddest ones. They’re the most real, right?” 

He nods, fighting the soft smile on his lips. “Right.” 

“So maybe our story is sad. But you can only know what’s sad if you know what’s good in this world.” you turned over, your head resting against your backpack and your eyes beginning to sink. “There’s a silver lining in this somewhere. Maybe you just haven’t found it yet.” 

Your eyes fluttered close and your breathing came to a steady pace as Five looked up at the stars. His own open storybook clouded with your silver linings. Five’s story was a tragic one. His opinion would never change on that. It belonged to be painted in the sky for eternity, one of the many tales in your storybook. But perhaps there was a silver lining to it all. 

Yours was the stars. 

His was the person who pointed them out. 

>>><<<

Let me know what you thought? Click here to add yourself to my taglist. 

Do I tag anyone? Shit I don’t have a TUA tag nice going Bri. 

TUA Taglist?: @lxncelot

Pairing: Luther Hargreeves x platonic!astronaut!gn!reader

Word Count:1818

Warnings: none! inspired by elton john’s song rocket-man

A/N: once again, not back but i thought of this and was bored and decided to write it. it probably sucks because i haven’t written in so long.

Tags:@scvrlletand@johnmurphyisqueer (thanks for the inspo, ry <3

Summary: I’m a rocket-man, burning out his fuse up here alone.

Day 62

There was nothing you loved more than stars and the way they stood out against the black void of the universe or the misty colors of the planet you left behind.

But even beauty held sadness. Or perhaps it was the other way around? After sixty-two days of wandering in space you still hadn’t found the answer.

You knew there was a madness to your job. An obsession, a drive, a passion. A few rare people are crazy enough to abandon the comforts of their homes and routine lives, their families, all to explore an ever expanding universe alone. Not many things triumphed over the contentment of home but the unignorable call of curiosity did.

And boy was it calling to you now.

It had been smooth sailing for the past hour, the buzz of the radio Walkie-Talkie dulling your senses. Stars twinkled and you had already sent your daily report to your boss back at the launch site so the only real thing left to conquer was isolation and boredom.

Which is when curiosity tickled your insides.

A smirk came over your face as you rolled over onto your side, slowly turning the knob on your radio. In came the static, a peaceful hum but one that did not satisfy you. You sighed, continuing to turn the knob for a minute or two until you blinked, clear and concise classical music being heard through the buzz. Vivaldi?

“Hello?” you asked, brows furrowed in confusion. “Hello?”

The music stopped, the gruff voice of a man coming through the radio. “Hello? Who is this?”

You smiled, staring out into the open void of space at where the source could be coming from. A stupid idea, you knew, seeing as the radio could reach for miles and miles and all you could see was the grey speck of the moon and the small clusters of stars. “This is Y/N L/N. I’m with NASA.”

“NASA?”the man questioned. He didn’t sound all that enthused. “How’d you tune into this frequency? This is a private communication line.”

This man was already ticking you off. He had a rude but slightly curious tone to his voice as though he were trying to cover up his curiosity with an authoritative humph. “I’m an astronaut.” you replied. “I was just searching through the frequencies.”

“Well, this is a private communication line.”

“So you’ve said.”

The man huffed. “So don’t tune in again!”

“Hey, wait!” you called, not sure if the man was still listening. “Look. I’m sorry.” you picked at the cuticles on your fingers. “I’m sorry. I’m alone. I’ve been alone for sixty-two days now up here. I just… got bored.”

It took a minute for a reply to come through as though the man were contemplating on whether or not he should reply. You were about to turn off your line when the voice returned. “I’ve been up here for three years now.”

Your eyes widened, heart plummeting for the man. “Shit- three years?”

“Yeah,”he said sadly. “Like I said, private mission.”

At his words, your eyes wandered around your own spacecraft, it’s clean but empty appearance. You couldn’t imagine being stuck here for years. “Are you on a craft?”

“No, the moon.” he let out a breath of air, something between a laugh and a scoff.

“I haven’t heard of any moon missions that long.” you search your brain as you think. “Are you with Britain? China? Russia?”

“What? No!” he laughed, your questioning tone being the only source of emotion he’d heard in years. It was odd how much emotion it had drawn from him. Such a simple question. It was the longest conversation he had had in a while. “I’m American.” There was another pause. “I shouldn’t be telling you all this to be honest.”

“Maybe you want to.” you offer, blankly and quite literally staring into the view of space out the window. “After all, you’ve been here for three years.”

He chuckles. “Right.”

Surprisingly, you smile. “As much as I’d love to pester you about why you’re up here, I don’t want to tire you out.” Silence. “Can I at least know your name?”

The man sighs. “Luther. Luther Hargreeves.”

What a pleasant name (or perhaps the only new name you’d heard in a while). “Well, goodbye, Luther.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

And all that was left was static, stars, and some sense of hope.

Day 63

Despite its hardships, you still loved your job. You did your duties well, the open universe just a glance out the window. You moved slowly each day, collecting photographs, evidence, observations. Fragments of space to bring home and analyze but it had never been about the science, only your desire to touch the mysteries of the galaxy.

But you found yourself in the same position as before, isolated and alone. Thoughts of your family and friends

At the same time the previous night you found yourself searching the radio channel, listening in for that sweet sound of Vivaldi’s four seasons. It greeted you like a wave of reassurance as you waited for the song to end before tapping in.

“You have such refined taste in music, Hargreeves.”

There was a grumble on the other end although he didn’t sound as angered this time around. “I thought I told you not to tap in here anymore.”

“I do recall that but then again, I’m terrible at listening to directions.”

“I can tell,” he scolded. “Does your boss know you tap in here? I have a good feeling he doesn’t.”

You chuckle at that, knowing Luther wouldn’t be able to reach your boss back on earth. Your eyes settle on the planet, mist clouding the African plates. “It’ll be our secret, Hargreeves. Bet you haven’t kept one of those in a while.”

He gave an airy chuckle. “Never been good with secrets.” An uncomfortable chuckle followed. “Strict father.”

You blinked, forgetting that despite not seeing him, Luther Hargreeves was as much a person as anyone else. Three years wasted without another soul to swap stories with, confide in, trustin.

“I’d suppose that meant you’d have more secrets.” you confess. “Was your mother any nicer?”

Radio silence. “I didn’t really have one. I mean, sort of?” he gave a huff. “It’s all very confusing and a long story.”

You have a soft smile, something he couldn’t see but you hoped he could feel. “I’m all ears.”

And surprisingly, he told you everything. You stared into the dark void, the white lights of your spacecraft being the only source of sight as you listened to Luther’s story like a child listened to a fairytale. The movie of his life enfolded in the black folds of the universe from superpowers to bank robberies. The death of his brother, the tenuous but deep love for his remaining siblings. Ape transformations, nights sneaking out.

You heard it all.

And you were a fantastic listener. You commented on all the right moments, empathized when you thought he had no one (you didn’t realize how true it was), laughed at the jokes that were funny and laughed at the ones that weren’t. Lord, how great it felt to have someone to share the universe with.

It made the stars feel a little warmer.

Luther offered the same courtesy to you. You talked of your mother and your father and of your sister back at home. You explained the dreams of the unknown that you’d had since you were a little kid.

“I’ve always wanted to be here, you know? It’s been my dream since I can remember.”

“I can tell,” he confessed warmly. “Just the tone of your voice gives it away.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Really.”he chuckled. “Your voice speeds up and you sound like you’re getting carried away somewhere far off.”

“Oh.” you mumble, a warm smile overtaking your features. No one had ever described something so simple in such detail. “What was your dream?”

He sighed, your fingers drummed on the cold surface. “I don’t know. I just wanted someone to be proud of me.”

Radio silence.

You weren’t quite sure what to say.

“I’m proud of you, Luther.”

…

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You smiled and gave a small hum. “It’s getting late, Hargreeves. I’ve got to clock out.”

“Me too.” he was quiet. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You were somewhat unable to contain your smile. “Goodnight, Rocket-Man.”

“Rocket-?”you turned off your radio with a chuckle, leaving him to wonder for a while.

Day 66

Your daily tasks had increased in small intervals each day leaving no room to talk to Luther out of pure exhaustion. It left a hollow feeling in your stomach. You knew he was out there somewhere but untouchable due to something as human as sleep.

But luckily, on day sixty-six things began to slow. You completed your tasks with quite a bit of effort but still managed to finish in time to tap into the radio line and be welcomed by a jokingly frustrated Luther.

“What did you mean by rocket-man?” he inquired with a huff.

You laughed as you pictured what his face probably looked like. Scrunched, pout, a dab of frustration. “Relax, Hargreeves. No hello? No, how are you?”

He huffed. “I don’t like being left out of things.”

The frustration in his voice made you smile. “Haven’t you listened to Elton John before?”

“Elton John?”

You gasped. “Luther Hargreeves you haven’t listened to Elton John? I know your father was strict but that’s simply a crime.”

Luther sighed. “If I put this song on it won’t be some joke, will it? It’s not going to tell me I’m a stupid astronaut monkey?”

Once again, your laugh was sent out to the empty void of stars and through the staticky waves of the radio. “Who would write a song about that?”

You guessed he was rolling his eyes for a mocking of your statement followed before a bit of silence and then some piano.

And music spoke more depth than either of you could muster with your lonely hearts and troubled pasts. And in that moment you hoped that the words and the keys would speak to him the way they once spoke to you and that he’d find meaning in them the way you had found it.

“It’s beautiful.”

The corners of your lips rose and you wished more than anything that he could see it. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“It almost feels too special.”

Although he couldn’t see you and even if he was here you doubted the artificial light of the ship would illuminate your face enough to depict your slow shake of your head. You glanced at the stars and the small wisps of colors that were dancing in the blanket of nothingness. “You’re special, Luther. Remember that, okay?”

The static communicated his grin as best it could.

“Rocket-man, huh?”

“Yeah. Rocket-man.”

—

outofcontextdiscord:

Reblogged from a tumblr related to this Kliego-fic and snorted so hard I almost choked on snot.