run boy run

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY POSITIVITY WEEK- DAY ONE 

( for @spaacemonkey​ ! ) thank you hun for your dedication to luther ! it is so refreshing to see someone one who genuinely cares about him & i love reading your posts. whether it be your musings or your threads, you put so much thought into them. it’s a pleasure writing alongside you. keep up the wonderful work !

( for @spcesent​ ! ) we haven’t interacted yet but you are another presence i love seeing on my dash. there is such gentleness to your luther & the antics you share with the diego’s & klaus’s you write with are a blast to read ! you have wonderful understanding of your muse & i look forward what you continue to bring to him !

welp ! here we are the end of the world, & the start of the first UMBRELLA ACADEMY POSITIVITY WEEK ☂️ !!! 

the rules are simple if you wish to participate, just send some positivity to any blog you wish of that muse’s given day. it can be anything from an ask to a shout-out on your own blog, even some graphics if you so wish. don’t worry if it’s not fancy, the point is just to spread some love in our small but amazing fandom! ❤️ 

the order of the days goes as followed- 

april 01 : luther 

april 02 : diego 

april 03 : allison 

april 04 : klaus 

april 05 : five 

april 06 : ben 

april 07 : vanya 

april 08 : tua ocs 

april 09 : reginald, grace, & pogo 

april 10 : dave, patch, & agnes 

april 11 : the commission 

april 12 : noncanon muses with tua verses 

JUST kill him. make it quick. take him out of his misery. anything but this ! brows furrow, jaw clenched. a picture of agitation. how mortifying ! “ i need you to pretend to be my dad again .” five grits out. sometimes death is a mercy. 

“ I wasn’t alone .” curt response. that old castle that did an ever so good job guarding him, refortifying his walls. years of being just one taught him one thing, don’t let anyone in. well not quite just one. “ i had dolores with me .”  

MOUTH opens, retort at the ready. aim but not fired. brows scrunch as for a moment five considers what his brother just said. wait a second- “ that isn’t half bad .” klaus actually being anything but counterproductive ? guess he had his moments too ... “ nice to see your brain is not going completely to waste .” 

NEVER one for emotion. always locked it away, less he be disappointed. five rarely cried. & the few times he did, it was in private. where silent tears could not betray him. like the ones he shed when he found the ruins the academy. alone. “ i looked for you .” spent an entire day & light until hands were raw. his way of saying, ‘ i missed you too .’

Her   mind   wanders  ,   dreaming   up   images   of   what   creatures   may   lay   in   wait   for   them   in   the   rubble   &&.   dust   of   a   city   once   great ;   creatures   of   pure   fiction  &&.   childish   imagination  (  horns ,  wings  ,  gnarly   teeth   &&.   radioactive   ooze  )  &&.   yet   still   real   enough   to   send   a   shiver   down   her   spine  .   She   is   afraid   yes   ,   of   the   noises   with   no   origin  ,   but   he   does   not   seem   to   be  ,  &&.   she   can   find   comfort   in   that  .   He   is   older   &&.   wiser   &&.   he   promised   he   would   protect   her   —   &&.    she   believes   him  .

No  ,   there   is   nothing   real   to   fear   when   Five   is   around  .  Nothing   to   fear   even   though   it’s   two   nameless   children   against   an  unstable   world   because   they   have   each   other   they   can   rely   on  .  He   will   protect   her  ,   and   she   will   do   the   same   for   him  ,  always . 

❝     No   fire  .   We’ll   have   to   sleep   close  ,   then  ,   right  ?    ❞      

FIVE locates their pocket knife. one found on one of their past supply runs. what a lucky find it was then. came in handy. especially for this exact case. he takes the knife and fiddles with the can until he can jimmy it open. the fruit inside reeks. must be spoiled. beggars can’t be choosers. brows raised he passes it to her before he does the same with the pears. the two would get a share of both. holding back a grimace he downs his half of the pears. that thick sugary syrup is hell to swallow, but hey at least it is something to eat. soon there will be no more canned goods left to find. that was a bridge that will be burned when the time came. for now something semi edible. 

SO he was alive. sort of surprising seeing he took shrapnel to the gut. or was it a bullet from the handler’s gun ? didn’t matter. still breathing & that doomsday clock was still ticking. yet he was suppose to take it lying down. restless, never one to sit still. 

so five took to wandering. must be quite a sight, a picture of the old days, still a kid in his standard academy pajamas. it’s how grace found him. acerbic tongue is reigned. he suppose he could let harsh words fly, but it’s mother. & contrary to her being an instrument of his father she was always on his side. plus he’s tired. so tired. running. & for a moment five lets humors them both. pretends he still her son & takes her hand. welcome home kid.

HER voice snaps him back. his mind a million miles away. where ? when ? starting to blur the line. agitated fleck of light shines in cool blues. mouth curls into a sneer. but snide comments do not come out. it sputters & dies in his throat. a hefty breath is taken. “ you don’t have to mother me allison, i’m not claire .”