(Put down your pitchforks. This is not what you think.)
Let’s get one thing out of the way: When I say “a misunderstood love,” I don’t mean we misunderstood it. Oh no, no. I mean the writers misunderstood it. Horrifically. Tragedy-of-Shakespearean-proportions misunderstood it.
And before you do what the internet does best and rages before reading the fine print, I absolutely do NOT ship Five and Lila. The exact opposite actually.
I'm posting this almost a full year after The Umbrella Academy Season 4 dropped. Why? I needed the distance. I needed the bile in my throat to settle. I needed the residual nausea from watching Five and Lila kiss to dull so I could return—not as a fangirl armed with rage, but as a critic armed with... well, still rage, but also analysis.
The Core of the Catastrophe
Steve Blackman (yes, we’re naming names) apparently said that Five needed a love interest. Because everyone else got one. But rather than introducing a new character or letting Five remain, y’know, the chronically traumatized asexual-coded soul of the show, they just said:
"Screw arcs. Let’s make it Lila. No one will mind."
Spoiler alert: We minded.
It felt like the writers saw some chaotic banter and trauma parallels and went, “Chemistry? Must be romantic!” As if every deep bond must end in a kiss. As if trauma bonding = sex. As if Lila’s entire arc with Diego meant nothing.
Romantic, Platonic, Familial: Learn the Damn Difference
Here’s a little cheat sheet for writers:
Romantic Love: Desire + intimacy. Often physical. Built over time.
Platonic Love: Deep friendship. Emotional intimacy, zero desire.
Familial Love: Built through shared experiences and protection. Chosen or blood.
Five and Lila? Found-family trauma buddies. Broken mirror versions of each other. Chaotic besties. Not lovers.
They weren’t building a relationship—they were building trust.
How It Should Have Gone
Season 2: Understanding. They recognize each other's pain.
Season 3: Forgiveness. Lila forgives Five for killing her parents. Five forgives himself.
Season 4: Acceptance. Lila becomes part of Five's found family. His sister in every way that matters.
The emotional payoff? Five—who doesn’t do hugs, who doesn’t do people—would finally tell someone: You belong here.
But instead we got...
The Actual Plot, or: Why My Brain Screamed
Five and Lila get stuck in a subway and... fall in love?
Diego and Lila's entire arc discarded?
Five, who canonically said “I don’t do hugs,” now does forehead kisses?
What were they thinking?
Answer: Fanservice. Or worse, they genuinely misunderstood.
The Fan Fetishism Problem
Let’s talk about the gross elephant in the room. Aidan Gallagher turned 20. Five’s body turned 20. Suddenly he’s in romantic scenes.
Coincidence? Doubtful.
In Season 3, when he kissed Delores, they green-screened it because Aidan was still a minor. But the moment he ages up, we get forced intimacy with Lila? It reeks of showrunners thinking:
“The fans want to thirst. Let’s give them romance.”
But here’s the thing:
We weren’t asking for romance. Some of us found solace in Five not having one. Especially asexual viewers. Even people who crushed on Five didn’t need it to be canon. He was compelling without it.
The "Healing = Romance" Lie
This is bigger than Umbrella Academy.
This is about a toxic media trend that says:
“If you’re hurt, you need love. If you’re broken, find someone to fix you.”
No. People with trauma don’t need romance to heal.
Sometimes they need family. Or solitude. Or therapy. Or a dimension-hopping mannequin.
The Fallout: Character Assassination Double Homicide
Five and Lila were fan favorites. Then Season 4 turned them into... whatever that was.
Five’s arc was about existential acceptance. Not kissing girls in train stations.
Lila’s arc was about finding peace in chaos. Not chasing another man.
Five blessing Diego and Lila? That was beautiful. Subtle. Earned.
But instead, we got a love triangle no one asked for.
What Could Have Been
Lila and Five could have been the perfect representation of platonic love born from chaos. Two broken kids realizing they didn’t need to fix each other—they just needed to be seen.
Lila: finally finding identity not through mimicry, but belonging.
Five: finally letting someone in who wasn't perfect, but present.
That’s love. Not romantic. Not sexual. Just human.
And the tragedy is: they were almost there.
TL;DR (But You Should Still Read It)
Five didn’t need a love interest. He needed closure.
Lila deserved better than a rerouted CW subplot.
Romance isn’t the only way to show love.
Fanservice is not character development.
Writers: Stop mistaking chemistry for sexual tension.
So yeah. "Lila and Five: A Misunderstood Love." Not because we misunderstood them.
Because the writers did.
And frankly, it still makes me want to yell at Steve Blackman.
I know everyone's complaining about Lila x Five as a whole, and me too, but I have a totally extra gripe with Lila this season and now that everything has sort of died down but it's still kind of relevant I can finally say my peace....
*takes deep breath*
Lila says Diego doesn't love her anymore and I said bitch where?
She said he didn't love their kids... I said Bitch Where!?
She said he waz lazy and fat and I said BITCH WHERE???
Thank you @mangoshorthand for helping develop this idea. This is a little dabble of an alternate version of the Umbrella Academy Season 4. This is my first time writing anything like this, so sorry if it's bad. I just hated what really happened between Five and Lila in the actual season.
The acrid stench of ash and decay hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the wasteland I'd called home for the past six years. My fingers tightened around the worn grip of my shotgun as I surveyed the desolate landscape, always on guard for any threat. That's when I saw them—two figures materializing out of thin air, one of them stumbling and clearly injured.
My blood ran cold as I recognized the face of the man. It was... me. An older, more haggard version, but undeniably me. Before I could process this mindfuck of a situation, instinct took over. I raised my gun and fired without hesitation, the crack of the shot echoing across the barren terrain.
The other me crumpled to the ground, a look of shock frozen on his face. The woman accompanying him—dark-haired, wild-eyed—let out a strangled cry and dropped to her knees beside him.
"Five! No, no, no!" she wailed, cradling his head in her lap. Her eyes, filled with tears and desperation, snapped up to meet mine. "Please," she begged, "don't shoot, you trigger happy little squit. You don't understand—"
I cut her off, my voice cold and steady. "I understand perfectly. You brought another version of me here, and now he's dead. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't put a bullet in your head too."
The woman—Lila, she'd called herself earlier—took a shaky breath. "Because I can help you see your family again. To get out of this hellhole."
I scoffed. "And why the fuck should I believe anything you say?"
"Because I know things," she insisted. "Things only you would know. I was Diego's wife in another timeline. I knew you—the other you. And damn, it would just be your luck you'd die at your own hand."
I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You think dropping Diego's name is gonna make me trust you? Try again, sweetheart."
Lila's eyes narrowed, a hint of her own fire showing through the grief. "Fine. You want proof? Dolores."
The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Dolores. My companion, my confidante, the only thing keeping me sane in this godforsaken wasteland. How the hell could she know about Dolores?
I lowered the gun slightly, but kept it trained on her. "Talk," I growled.
Lila's story poured out in a frantic, disjointed mess. Time travel, the Commission, apocalypses—plural. My family, all grown up, with their own lives and problems. It was too much to take in, too fantastical to believe. And yet... the proof was lying dead at my feet.
"So let me get this straight," I interrupted, my head spinning. "You want me to pretend to be him?" I gestured to the corpse with my gun. "To what, save the fucking world?"
Lila nodded, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "It's the only way. Please, Five. I know it's asking a lot, but—"
I cut her off with a bitter laugh. "Asking a lot? You're asking me to lie to my family, to pretend to be someone I'm not. To step into the shoes of a man who's apparently fucked up time itself multiple times over."
"But you'll get to see them again," Lila pressed. "Isn't that worth it?"
I fell silent, considering. Six years of isolation, of wondering if I'd ever see another living soul again, let alone my siblings. The chance to go back, to be with them... It was everything I'd dreamed of. Even if they hated me—well, the other me.
"Fuck it," I muttered, holstering my gun. "I'm in. But if this goes sideways, I'm putting a bullet in you first. Got it?"
Lila nodded, relief washing over her face. "Deal."
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, adjusting the tie of the perfectly tailored suit Lila had procured for me. It felt strange, constricting after years of scavenged clothes and whatever I could cobble together.
"You're fucking crazy, you know that?" I muttered to myself, running a hand through my hair.
Lila appeared in the doorway behind me, her arms crossed. "Crazy got us this far, didn't it?" she smirked.
I turned to face her, my eyes narrowing. "This plan of yours is insane. You realize that, right? There's no way in hell they're going to buy this."
She shrugged, that infuriating smugness still plastered across her face. "They will if you sell it. Come on, Five. Don't tell me you're chickening out now. Don't you want to see your family again?"
I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to snap at her. Of course I wanted to see them. It was all I'd thought about for six fucking years. But this? This felt wrong.
"They're going to hate me," I muttered. "Or, well, hate who they think I am."
Lila's expression softened slightly. "Maybe. But isn't it worth it? To see them again, even if they don't know it's really you?"
I turned back to the mirror, straightening my jacket. She was right, damn her. I'd endure anything to see my siblings again, even their hatred.
"Let's get this shitshow on the road," I growled, pushing past her and out of the room.
The reunion was... intense, to say the least. Seeing them all grown up, changed in ways I couldn't have imagined, it was almost too much. Luther, no longer the awkward, bumbling kid I remembered, but a leader. Diego, still a hothead, but with a newfound respect that caught me off guard. Allison, confident and powerful in ways that went beyond her rumors.
And Viktor. Jesus Christ, Viktor. The quiet, timid kid I'd left behind was gone, replaced by someone strong, assured, with powers that made my spatial jumps look like child's play. I couldn't have been prouder if I tried.
They all looked at me with a mix of wariness and resentment, clearly expecting the worst. It stung, but I swallowed it down. This wasn't about me. It was about them.
"Well," I drawled, falling into the persona Lila had coached me on, "looks like the gang's all here. Ready to save the world... again?"
Diego scoffed. "Oh, now you want to work as a team? That's rich coming from you, Five."
I bit back the urge to defend myself, to explain that I wasn't who they thought I was. Instead, I just smirked. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises."
As we delved into the latest apocalyptic threat—because of-fucking-course there was another one—I found myself marveling at how they'd all grown. Their abilities, their teamwork, it was beyond anything I could have imagined.
When Viktor unleashed his powers, nearly leveling a building to stop a group of Commission agents, I couldn't help but grin. "Holy shit, V," I muttered under my breath. "You've come a long way from violin practice."
"What was that?" Allison asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
I schooled my features back into a neutral expression. "Nothing. Just thinking we might actually pull this off for once."
As the days wore on, the lies became harder to maintain. Every time they referenced some shared experience I knew nothing about, every bitter comment about past mistakes I hadn't made, it was like a knife twisting in my gut.
But then I'd see Luther take charge of a situation with a confidence he'd never had as a kid. Or watch Diego and Allison move in perfect sync, covering each other's backs without a word. Or catch Viktor's small, proud smile after mastering a new aspect of his powers.
And I knew, deep in my bones, that it was worth it. Every lie, every moment of self-doubt, every flash of hatred in their eyes—it was all worth it to see them like this. To know that somehow, despite everything, they'd all become the heroes I always knew they could be.
One night, as we regrouped after a particularly harrowing battle, Lila and I blinked up to the roof and just sat there. I did this when I was a kid too. Blinked to the top of the Academy to escape dad.
The guilt was written all over Lila's face.
"They don't know," she whispered, her eyes darting to where the others were gathered. "They still think you're him."
I nodded, a small, sad smile tugging at my lips. "I know. And it's okay. Let them think that."
Lila frowned. "But... don't you want them to know the truth? That you're not the one who—"
"Who fucked everything up?" I finished for her. "Who dragged them through time and space, who got them stuck in the wrong timeline over and over?" I shook my head. "No. If this is what it takes for me to see them like this—strong, united, better than we ever were as kids—then I'll take it. I'll be the villain in their story if it means I get to see them shine."
Lila's eyes filled with a mix of admiration and pity. "You really love them, don't you?"
I snorted. "They're my family. Of course I fucking love them. Even if they hate me."
As we turned back to join the others, I caught sight of Viktor laughing at something Allison had said, his whole face lit up with joy. And in that moment, I knew I'd made the right choice.
They might never know the truth. They might always see me as the asshole who ruined their lives. But I got to see them like this—happy, powerful, united. And that? That was worth everything.
