#it's the eighth day too and eight is a lucky number

[kairosvale]

Happy Year of the Dragon!

[scribefindegil]

We know what Ninth House poetry is like (terrible!) but we should talk about which meters and poetic forms are in vogue for the other Houses. Some initial thoughts:

The Second: Meter? Iambic or maybe trochaic. Absolutely has to be one of the two-syllable feet though. Number of feet can vary. Form? Couplets. The Second is about epigrams, about the sort of pithy little poem that you could engrave onto the handle of a weapon or use as a grave marker. Short and regimented. They don't *do* long-form.

The Third: Dactyls all the way babyyyyy! Lots of playful/light verse; tend to think everyone else takes poetry much too seriously. A bunch of funky little closed forms with triplets and repeating lines. You know, the sparkly kind where you don't really say anything but it's great for showing off how clever you are. Also. Villanelles.

The Fourth: Iambic tetrameter. Lots of cross-rhymed quatrains; little emphasis on closed forms.

The Fifth: They get iambic pentameter, the lucky bastards.

The Sixth: The sestina is absolutely the most Sixth House poetic form in existence. I bet they have competitions where they're given the end words and have a time limit to complete their poems. I bet Palamades has written sad sestinas about Dulcie. Probably dactylic hexameter even though I kind of feel like that's too cool for them. They might also use Alexandrines bc they're both six-footed and insufferable.

The Seventh: Ballad meter! In the real world we think of this as alternating lines of iambic tetrameter and trimeter, but if you throw it all on one line you can call it iambic heptameter instead. If you want. Great for poems about melancholy and death! Also they write a lot of sonnets (14 lines!), especially the Petrarchan form.

The Eighth: I feel in my heart that they look down on purely syllabic meters and also the concept of rhyming and insist that the only worthwhile poetry is some accentual-syllabic Beowulf shit. Irl this manifests as four alliterative accented syllables per line with the strongest emphasis on the last one. You *could* just string two lines together to make eight accented syllables and call it a day, but that isn't stupid enough. Merely contemplating Eighth and Ninth house poetry should be enough to give you a headache. It is one line with eight stresses. It's awful. Every stressed syllable has to alliterate except the final one, and when a poet finally reaches the end of the line everyone watching applauds in sheer relief.

[walkingshcdow]

The day Keres Whitlock disappeared started out like any other.

She made her coffee and sent Percy her customary email about what she and Daphne would be doing that day, what it was related to and what she hoped she would learn. She put on the customary outfit she wore like a uniform, and locked the apartment behind her. She got on the number 53 bus.

And never got off.

Never arrived for lessons.

Never sent a message explaining what had happened, what emergency or fickle public transportation had left her scrambling for a cab in the middle of rush hour traffic and promising to make up for lost time.

She simply vanished.

For hours, then days, a week.

Her phone had been found broken in back alley miles from where she should have been. No tracking came back on her. No one in the organization had any leads or sightings, all ideas had been exhausted in the first 48 hours.

This wasn't right.

Wasn't safe.

Daphne kept asking, to make things worse. Where was Keres? Why didn't she come to the lessons? Was she sick? Was she ok? Did they need to go get her? Was she ever coming back?

By all the gods in the Seladrine, Percy Brightstar would see to it that whoever had kidnapped Keres (or worse, but he couldn't dare think about worse, worse had happened before and to lose one lover was a tragedy and to lose two was a curse) paid dearly for it. Oh, the police were inquiring. Of course, they bloody were. One of the richest men in the county reported his daughter's tutor missing and suddenly she was a VIP. He had his own search going. They went out in shifts to look, following police leads and whispered rumors. How much had Percy paid and paid for information from gossip dealers? How often had it led to a dead fucking end?

After forty-eight hours, it was safe to assume the missing person was dead.

But Keres couldn't die, could she? Not Keres. She was too stubborn. She'd argue with Death so much he'd send her back to plague those who had a tolerance for her sharp words and bitter logic. Keres couldn't die because there was still so much left unsaid, undone, and unlived. It wasn't bloody fair.

Had it been bloody fair when Talia went missing? This was a path Percy had trod before. It was dark. It was cold. It was lonely. It always left him holding Daphne and thinking the world had gone dim and would never once brighten again. He'd been proven wrong once. He wasn't lucky enough to be proven wrong twice. And, anyhow, he didn't want to be proven wrong. He wanted to have Keres back. How fucking petulant he sounded in his prayers and private moments! He wanted Keres and nothing else would do. No one else would do. He sounded like Daphne, but worse. He was a grown man. He couldn't afford to sound like a child. He could afford to pour more resources into the search, but every passing day made it clearer that if Keres was alive, she didn't want to be found.

More than likely, she was dead. She'd hate to be put in a watery grave off the docks, but it was likely.

The ransom letter came on the eighth day, in shaky handwriting. A million dollars, cash, and Keres would go free. No guns, no cops, no witnesses.

They never said no to anything else, though, and Percy had been a young man when hand crossbows were still fashionable. He brought the cash, all right, but he didn't leave it behind either. With the crack of an arrow to the brain and a slump and it was over. Keres shivered under the docks, where the kidnapper had tied her, waiting for high tide to come, just in case Percy didn't show, didn't comply, or didn't act quickly. She looked bruised and tired, afraid in a way he'd never seen painted across her face and he undid her bindings quickly and carefully. He held her raw wrists in his hands and thumbed each reverently, healing magic seeping into her skin at his touch. He pulled her close murmuring prayers of thanks as he breathed her in. She smelled of sea air and sand and blood like she hadn't been properly cared for in days, and all Percy wanted was to draw her a bath and sit guard outside the door. He wanted to do up one of the guest rooms to be hers, damn the apartment payments for the time, and give her safety and rest and everything.

"We'll get you home," he promised as her skin glowed faintly and appeared whole as ever. Percy kissed her hairline gently, stroking her scalp and only grudgingly pulling away to look at her still-battered, still-exhausted face. "But before we go, I need you to be very honest with me. Are there more of them? I'm not leaving a person alive who would harm you."

No loose ends. No guns, no cops, no witnesses.

[writing-sunshine]

The Eighth

Paring: Platonic!Settman sisters x Settman!reader

Warnings: ❗️This probably isn’t worth the read. ❗️

A/n: Biologically I don’t know if this is possible, but this is a dystopian world so who knows.

Summary: Instead of seven children, there were 8 but number 8 wasn’t the same as her other sisters, in fact she didn’t look identical to them.

-

When Karen Settman was pregnant, she was told there were seven children. When it was time for them to be born, everyone was shocked when an eighth came out.

Eight daughters, or in Terrance’s case eight granddaughters. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and little Y/N. She was so much smaller than her older sisters, and even though she was only a few hours old Terrance knew she would be different.

As time went on, Terrance was proven right. While all the older children looked identical in every way, Y/N didn’t. She didn’t have freckles or long black hair, no she resembled her unknown father with lighter hair and dark green eyes. Terrance’s plan wouldn’t include her, not just because of her looks but because there were only seven days.

When it was time for the rest of her siblings to go outside, Y/N had to say in. Day after day, week after week… the only time she could see the outside world was through the windows or in the end of the day meeting, which even then she didn’t have to be there for.

“Why can’t I go outside, grandpa?” Y/N had asked one day which caught the attention of her sisters.

“Because there are only seven days in a week and you’re not like your sisters I’m afraid. I wish things were different but while you’re not identical to your siblings, your resemblance to them is too much to risk.” Terrance wanted to say that maybe one day she’d be able to go out but he didn’t want to get her hopes up.

“It’s okay Y/N, you’ll always have us to look after you!” Saturday had told her younger sister, wanting to cheer her up.

Many years later Y/N was still stuck inside the apartment, she had snuck out quite a few times mostly to get drunk but her sisters didn’t know that.

“People rioting is getting worse, most of the streets are full of people shouting.” Sunday had told her sisters while showing them a video.

“It’s truly a mess out there.” Y/N thought for a moment that Monday would continue and say something like ‘you’re lucky you don’t have to leave’.

All of a sudden all of the emotions she’d pushed down and repressed about being stuck inside all day everyday, came rushing to the surface. 30 years of this and finally she snapped.

“Fuck this.” She stuck up abruptly, catching her sisters off guard.

Y/N walked to her bed and took out her secret stash of alcohol, walking to the front door while her sisters stood not sure what to do. Before she was able to open the door, a hand stopped her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Wednesday asked while Y/N took lengthy sips of straight vodka.

“Out.” Was all she replied and tried to open the door again.

It took a lot of pushing and pulling but eventually she got the door open and strutted out. One of her sisters - she wasn’t sure which - grappled her and lifted her up. She was always smaller than her siblings, making it easy for her to be dragged back inside despite her protests.

“No let me out! I can’t take it anymore, Leg me out!” Y/N was practically sobbing and the Settman sisters hearts broke. They only knew a fraction of what she was feeling.

“Hey, it’s okay.” They managed to lull her to sleep eventually.

If only she knew a week from then, the one child policy act would be over and she would be free. No longer stuck in her prison.

[purplebirdsees]

Warm-up: Whatever - Part 3

part 1 / part 2

… Wait. Where was the folders section again?

The main isle was a little less crowded compared to the other isles which gave me a second to breathe, but didn’t help much from my ever growing heartbeat. Remember what mom said? If you’re lost, look at the big card boards with numbers. I started to walk, head looking up at the numbers. Four: Markers, pen—five: another pen isle… seven, eight, nine…

My walks started to turn to jogs. Ten: scrapbook, stickers; eleven: glue, tape, fasteners; twelve: notebooks… I gritted my teeth; screw this, at this point I should just go on every isle. I went inside the twelfth isle, looking for something, anything, that resembles my dad. Brown hair, kinda tall… what was he wearing again? Was it green? No, that’s me… White, right? My eyes hopped back and forth with the slightest bit of brown hair. No, too long; too short… that’s a kid…

I went to the next isle. Empty. Next. One girl. Nex—it was that kid again.

I slowed down my walking, careful not to make my face show too much emotion. He glanced at me, looked at me with such a deep frown he looked almost cross-eyed, then rolled his eyes.7

What was that kid’s problem?!

Whatever, I thought, as I grabbed the nearest thing I could find, which was a hard bound notebook cover the part where I could see his face, and went back to the main hallway for the seventh, eighth time. He was probably… having a bad day, right? At least, that’s what my mom would always tell me.

'Unless they punch you or harm your body, just don't mind them, okay, Tsuzuru?' Was what she said, countless of times, which at first felt as if she was trying to dismiss the problem. At the end, though, she'll somehow catch them doing something, like make a face or say an insult. If they're lucky, she'll just give you a nasty glare, which usually resolves most cases, resulting with said kid instantly cowering towards their parents, unable to answer the question why they're upset.

If only she was here…

Then, my stomach suddenly dropped as the worst idea came into mind. What if… what if dad went home already? Maybe he forgot me, or had to go do something… or maybe there was an emergency?

I remember the drive from here to our house was quite far, I even took quite a long nap on the way here. Maybe I can ask for some help, but I barely had any money, which meant I probably had to—

‘… Yeah, I’ll be there tonight, don’t worry. No, it’s fine, you don’t have to take the job, I’ll do it… Promotion? Haha, yeah; we both know how our boss is, come on.’

… Dad?

‘Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll be fine. But… thanks for covering for me today… Why do you sound like I’m gonna die soon, you bastard. Okay, okay, I’ll see you later, don’t do anything stupid while I’m out… Yeah, sure, go tell yourself that. Okay, bye.’

Dad…!

I ran towards his voice, bumping on a few people along the way, but I didn’t care. He was here, he didn’t leave me. I don’t have to walk home… he’s… he didn’t…

'Tsu—oofgh.'

I clung tightly onto his shirt, the pit on my stomach now going up to my throat as relief washed over me. I could feel burning on my face, my eyes, my throat.

Dad gave me a soft pat on the head. I heard a small chuckle, then he gently pushed my shoulder so that he could have me face him.

'Are you okay?'

I let out a small uhn.

For a second, he looked at me, carefully studying my face. 'Okay, let’s go.'

Dad didn’t ask me to go find the rest of the materials, and instead asked for the list. He asked if I wanted to stay in the car instead, to which I said no. Then, without much of a few words spoken, we picked out the items on the list.

Without my mom’s stories, though, I couldn’t drown out the sound of my ever growing heartbeat. Every time I saw a hint of movement at the corner of my eye, my instinct was to hide, whether it be behind a bookshelf, behind my dad, or simply covering my face.

After a while, though, as we checked out the list to see if we missed anything, the kid was nowhere in sight. Maybe they went home, I thought, as I looked around the area with little movement from my head as I can, just in case he is still here, and he finds me searching for him, god forbid. It seemed clear, I thought, as I sighed,

'Tsuzuru.' Dad beckoned, as we walked towards the cashier, nodding his head towards the notebooks and pens. “Is there something you want?”

On reflex, I shook my head.

Dad then pointed at my hands with a raised eyebrow. 'How about that one?'

Confused, I looked at my hands, then realized I was still holding the notebook I used to hide my face with. I didn’t really think much of it, not with all my anxiety making me focus solely on making myself hidden. Its cover was made out of dark green leather, with a pen attached. My heart hitched in my chest as I saw how pretty it was, and even considered his offer of buying it. I never had anything like this before, I bet it would be so nice to write on it. When I flipped it on its back to look at the price, however, my eyes widened in shock, and instantly placed it on the nearest shelf.

I shook my head again, lowering my gaze to the ground.

Shehehehehmmm…

I looked up, and instantly felt the blood in my face drain.

The person who was before us on the cashier was the same snooty8 kid. He had the same weirdly big grin, his silver braces glaring back at me as menacing as his eyes. He then turned to his companion, who seemed to not care much about what was happening, as their whole focus was poured onto a conversation that they were having on the phone. The kid rolled his eyes, then looked back at me again with a squint and a smirk.

I looked away instantly, my relief gone. I could feel my resting heart’s steady pace spike up, every beat inching upwards my throat. I covered my mouth, afraid that it might spill out, as I felt something hot and searing rise up from my throat. I clutched my free hand onto whatever I could, which was dad’s coat.

'Hmm?' My dad asks, as he looks at me. 'Is something wrong?'

'Ahahaha, I really like this notebook brand! It’s super expensive, but mother said I can buy anything I want! Ha, ha, ha! I love my mother!'

I replied to dad with a shake of my head.

'Hmmm… I guess, I can do the rest from here.' He then patted my head twice. The snotty kid rolled his eyes. 'Do you want to stay inside the car?'

I nodded. He gave me the car keys, along with a reminder to close it once I’m inside. With one last nod, I started to head out of the store. This was a good thing, I thought at first, because then I wouldn’t need to deal with that kid again. That is, if I survive going through him first, because he was in the middle of the way towards the exit.

To avoid eye contact at all costs, I kept my eyes trained on the ground, pretending to fiddle with dad’s car keys. Every step I took, the more my ears filled with the sound of blood nervously pumping through. As I was two steps away from him, he slid himself off the way.

Was that… a peace offering? I took one, two steps, but as I was about to take my third, my foot seemed to get caught onto something. Good thing I instantly caught myself, but in the process, I had to hold onto the counter of the cashier with a loud bmp! I looked back, only to be greeted with the kid and his muffled ‘ahahahaaaaammmff’, his left foot slightly sticking out.

I stood up and ran.

Out of that place. Out of that stupid kid, and his stupid demeanor, and his stupid way of laughing, with his stupid, stupid big smirk and his stupid leg. Looking back, I wished I tripped harder on his feet, maybe even leave a big, ugly bruise, or stain his shoe. I wanted to yell at him, but all I did was ran. As I arrived near the car, panting, I gave out a frustrated, high-pitched yell, slamming my fist on the car door. The pain shot through my fist to my whole arm in an instant, as I seethed and sat down on the driveway, cradling my ever reddening knuckles.

I couldn’t bare to stand, or even look at the car. I just sat there, helplessly, blowing short breathes onto my knuckles, hoping the throbbing pain goes away. Just like mom would do it.

Pain, pain, go away! She’d say, her gentle breath warm and ticklish on raw, angry skin. As much as he would breathe on it, however, it felt like the searing hot pain got worse and worse, until his vision inevitably got blurry from tears. In a hurry, I raised my head up, willing the tears to go back to my eyes.

But after a few minutes, there was a voice that called my name. The voice got louder and louder the more they called, and as I heard footsteps grew louder, closer, I felt something big and warm wrap around my shoulder. They called out again. I let out a shaky breath. Then, I felt a thumb slowly flick the back of my earlobe.

'Come on, lets go.' The voice urged. A stubborn tear slipped past with a small sniffle, and I felt the hand go from my shoulder to my throbbing, red hand, slowly prying it open to get the keys. They then unlocked the car door, grabbed me by my armpits, lifted me up, and placed me on the seat, strapping a seat belt along with a few pats on the head.

And the tears never stopped. Big, fat droplets trickled down my red face, as the feel of dread and shame and frustration burst in my chest, like an uncontrollable and unstable bomb. Yet, tears were the only way the emotion bomb could seep its remains out, as it dripped from my face, then down, pooling on my closed fists. Well, at least the coolness of the salt water kind of helped sooth my bruising fist.

When the car stopped, dad didn’t say anything. He didn’t move either, as he stared at the driveway, his brows knitted as if he was pondering on what to do.

'… Are you okay now?' He asks, his head tilted slightly towards me with a slightly raised brow.

The question only made my eyes pool with more tears.

He sighed, the kind where it’s low and long, with a pronounced ‘haah’ as he exhaled. 'Come on, let it all out, while you’re still in the car.'

I wiped my eyes, attempting to stop it from tearing up further, but it seemed that every time I wiped the tears grew more and more consistent in quantity.

'Tsuzuru,' He started, as he rested his elbow on my car seat. 'You did the right thing not to be provoked.'

… Huh?

'I saw that kid was trying to provoke you. You didn’t try anything, to—that, you know… you didn’t do anything… aggressive.

I nodded, not really understanding the words provoke and aggressive. Those were… good things, right?

Dad then shifted in his seat, his knitted brows deepening, as if he was struggling in finding the right words. 'But… Next time, just tell me, okay? And stop crying over it.

… I-I’m sorry.

'Hmm?'

I did… I don’t like that kid.

He let out a small, amused breath, patting my shoulder. 'Don’t worry. Just promise me, once you’re old enough, you’re going to work hard to prove to that kid you’re not weak, okay?'

I nodded, wiping the last of my tears and snot with my hand.

'Now, come on, clean yourself up. Don’t show your brothers you cried okay? You’re their older brother after all; if you come back and show them that you cried over some dumb kid’s words, they’re gonna think their older brother’s weak. Here, some tissue.'

I wiped my eyes and nose, blowing onto it loudly. When I finished, dad held out a small parcel wrapped in paper.

'… You wanted this, right? Here.' I thanked him as I received it. I tore off the paper and saw that it was the same dark green leather notebook I used to hide my face with. My head snapped back at my father, who had a small smile. He patted my shoulder again, then flicked my earlobe, as I shook my head, knowing how expensive the notebook was.

'It’s not everyday I get to treat you, right?' He said. 'Just… remember what I told you, alright? We’re a family; we help each other out. Just work hard, and help your mom with taking care of everyone else. If you do that… then that notebook was worth the investment, alright?'

Mine. I beamed at the notebook, then hugged it tightly to my chest.

Mine...

---

7 BRO KICK THAT GUY. FUCKING KICK HIS ASS WTF ATTITUDE???

8 [tsz]… who added this.

NOTES:

too tangent-y for some reason I kept getting off topic

its ok I guess but I don’t know how to add this in with the rest of the project

too long. i think.

[newmic]

Chéri, j'oubliais. (Darling, i forgot)

PERSONALITY Personality: The number 8 symbolizes power, justice and expansion. Through a personality, it gives great strength of accomplishment and impressive energy. The 8 is a ram launched at full speed, it breaks obstacles without trying to circumvent them. You are therefore surely endowed with a great will and an entire, frank and solid nature. You can't stand injustice and can become angry in the face of a situation that displeases you. You do not hesitate to defend the weakest and raise your voice for them. The 8 is action and even struggle, it destroys as much as it builds. Thus, you are not afraid to break established conventions to create fairer ones, you take risks and do not hesitate to go into battle, to face challenges head-on. In love, you need to confront a character almost as strong as yours and have a lot of trouble getting along with people who are fleeing or too pacifist. The 8 is uncompromising and straight in his boots. When he has a goal or an idea, he sticks to it and does not deviate, even if the path is long. For you, everything is acquired through effort and pain. Your loved ones know your intractable character and have learned to deal with it, especially since your qualities are great. Be careful though: the 8 can be scary at first.

but also:

Symbolique

The symbolism of the number 8 Eight (八, formal script 捌, pinyin ba1) is considered a lucky number in Chinese culture because it sounds like the word for prosperity (發 pinyin fa1) in Cantonese. During the Beijing Olympics, the organizers also wanted the opening ceremony to take place on August 8, 2008 at 8:08 pm (08/08/08, 08:08). The 8 is also very present in everyday life, promotional prices are displayed with 8 or rounded with 8, as elsewhere the 9. Telephone numbers or license plates with 8 are also valued. In numerology, the 8 represents material expansion3. Timothy Leary identified a hierarchy of eight levels of consciousness. In Buddhism, the Dharmacakra or wheel of dharma has 8 spokes representing the eight limbs of the Noble Eightfold Path. In Christianity, the authors of the patristic writings, in particular Saint Jerome or Saint Augustine, comment on the account of the creation of Genesis by proceeding by opposition between the Sabbath and the day of the Lord (en), between the weekly (seventh day, Sunday, day of rest) and the ogdoad (the eighth day which is the true or the second Sabbath). This eighth day becomes that of the resurrection and its symbol, rebirth through baptism, hence the often octagonal shape of the baptistery or the baptismal font.

[dweemeister]

Best Animated Short Film Nominees for the 93rd Academy Awards (2021, listed in order of appearance in the shorts package)

NOTE: For viewers in the United States (continental U.S., Alaska, and Hawai’i) who would like to watch the Oscar-nominated short film packages, click here. For virtual cinemas, you can purchase the packages individually or all three at once. You can find info about reopened theaters that are playing the packages in that link. Because moviegoing carries risks at this time, please remember to follow health and safety guidelines as outlined by your local, regional, and national health officials.

Continuing with one of my favorite Oscar-time traditions, here is an omnibus review of this year’s Academy Award nominees for Best Animated Short Film. This is an older category than many might believe to be, with some of the first nominees and winner including ‘30s and ‘40s fixtures: Disney’s Silly Symphonies, Warner Bros.’ Looney Tunes, MGM’s Tom and Jerry and Happy Harmonies. These days, the category tends to be more democratic (perhaps not so much this year), but certainly more experimental. Here are the nominees, as they appeared in the order of how they appeared in the short film packages released to theaters and virtual cinemas in the United States:

Burrow��(2020)

Burrow, directed by Madeline Sharafian (story artist on 2017’s Coco, writer on Cartoon Network’s We Bare Bears), is the eighth in Pixar’s SparkShorts series, in which Pixar’s junior animators craft a short film on a limited budget and timeframe. This is the film that played in front of Soul for those lucky enough to view that film theatrically. This dialogue-free, hand-drawn film stars a young rabbit, looking to dig out and furnish her own home – complete with a bathroom-disco (or something like that). Her best-laid plans, however, seem dashed when she keeps digging and running into other animals’ underground abodes in this area. Not that these animals seem to mind the intrusions too much. The rabbit, so anxiety-driven in her eagerness to project a picture of self-assuredness, soon realizes that these nearby animals she fears to have disturbed are all neighbors, a community ready to lend a paw for the newcomer.

Sharafian credits her sense of impostors’ syndrome when first working at Pixar as the film’s primary thematic inspiration. With only a bare number of lines, the rabbit expresses a vast array of emotions, endearing the audience to her self-dramatization and youthful insecurity. Drawn flatly but nevertheless suggesting some depth, the cutaway animation depicting the burrow neighborhood recalls Richard Scarry’s books and other such colorful ensemble illustrations found in children’s picture books. Burrow is a worthy addition to Disney/Pixar’s animated short film legacy, despite the lack of innovation and obvious low-budget appeal (it uses the third movement of Mozart’s Oboe Concerto as its soundtrack), and seems like something that could have been made during the heyday of Silly Symphonies or Warner Bros.’ Merrie Melodies.

My rating: 7/10

Genius Loci (2020, France)

From the Latin term meaning “the spirit of a place”, Adrien Mérigeau’s Genius Loci is the most difficult, abstract film of this year’s slate of nominees. Genius Loci stars a young black woman named Reine (Nadia Moussa), a solitary soul who embarks upon, while walking the streets of Paris at night, an existential revelation. Reine, who is supposed to be babysitting her nephew that evening, decides to have a small adventure instead. She will find this experience and this Parisian neighborhood disorienting and chaotic, in many of the ways that life in a sprawling metropolis can be. The film’s sound mix clangs, whispers, vibrates, and echoes into Reine’s soul, injecting feelings of harmony, but mostly those of displacement. The distant rumbling of traffic is subliminal here, crescendoing and decrescendoing to control the film’s tension. Throughout, Mérigeau provides a fragmented narrative (do not fixate on the plot) and the protagonist’s intangible, occasionally abstruse, narration. Spiritual and existential loss colors Reine’s ambling, as well as a sense of modern France’s racial otherizing that makes the city feel unwelcoming, if not antagonistic.

Mérigeau (background cleanup on 2009’s The Secret of Kells, art director on 2014’s Song of the Sea) collaborated with Belgian comic illustrator Brecht Evens (production designer on the excellent Marona’s Fantastic Tale from 2019) for the film’s dumbfounding backgrounds, as well as storyboarding the changes in aesthetic as Reine continues her journey through Paris. Marona’s influence is felt keenly throughout Genius Loci – from the lack of recognizably human figures among strangers to Reine and the ever-changing color scheme. Unlike Marona, Genius Loci commits to watercolors (or computerized animation meant to resemble watercolor paints) during the film’s entirety. The watercolor animation serves to loosen the character animation and the backgrounds’ definition, and serves as a paragon of expressionist animation. Genius Loci will bewilder audiences, challenging them to understand Reine’s painful attempt to find belonging and solace in a place that disallows such reflection.

My rating: 8.5/10

Opera (2020, South Korea)

Opera, directed by Erick Oh (an animator at Berkeley-based Tonko House, which crafted the 2014 nominee The Dam Keeper), is an independent South Korean/American production that owes more to Sandro Botticelli and Hieronymus Bosch than anything ever seen in animated cinema. This is a cinematic fresco teeming with activity, intended more as interactive art than for a movie theater. The setting is a pyramid filled with souls living, laboring, luxuriating, dying. As the camera pans downward from the godlike or prophet-like figures occupying the top, it later zooms outward, all timed alongside a day-night cycle. Opera’s story is that of human history, distilled in eight minutes of repetitive activity. The design of Oh’s film is as a museum installation – projected on a wall or the ground (the only instance Opera has been screened as such was at the Ars Electronica Animation Festival in Linz, Austria) – that loops continuously, and, if one looks closely enough at the pyramid’s sections, there are loops within the film’s loops. If viewed in a museum, Opera does not pan selectively as it does if projected in a theater or a home media screen.

Pieced together in between Oh’s other film projects over four years and a pandemic, Oh and his animators (some of whom participated voluntarily, without pay) concentrated on different sections of the pyramid at a time, synchronizing the action in a specific section to match the surrounding areas – and, ultimately, the film as a whole. Opera contains intricacies impossible to realize on first, second, third viewings. Even in its limited, virtual cinema form, it engulfs the viewer in its hierarchical animation, the intentionally simplistic character animation serving to universalize the drama of its beings’ existence. It is rapturous art, the sort that defies description, and undoubtedly will echo across Oh’s subsequent films.

My rating: 8.5/10

If Anything Happens I Love You (2020)

For some American viewers, I imagine that this title alone has already spoiled the film’s content even without seeing any footage. A Netflix production directed by Will McCormack (co-writer on 2019’s Toy Story 4) and Michael Govier (bit roles in American television), If Anything Happens I Love You is the only nominee in this category directed by individuals with no background in directing animation. McCormack and Govier met at acting school; acting remains their primary profession. Without dialogue, the film opens with two parents eating dinner at opposite ends of the table. They seem aloof, their minds elsewhere. The background is spare, with only a jumble of pencil sketches making sense of any barriers enclosing them. Flexible, animated silhouettes appear from their bodies – sometimes arguing vigorously with each other, at times shadowing the person and attempting to call their attention. Grief overhangs their household, expressed through a largely monotone palette, minimalistic designs and backgrounds. The background artists exclude any detail unnecessary to the story.

Written and crafted in collaboration with (so as to not spoil the film, I am about to opaquely write about this film’s intentions) a prominent, deep-pocketed political non-profit so as to shear the film of any thematic excess, If Anything Happens I Love You has, unlike its fellow nominees, broad support among certain prominent actors in Hollywood. Laura Dern is the executive producer and various actors – including Chelsea Handler, Rashida Jones, and Lesley Ann Warren, among others – have openly contributed or advocated for this movie. The visualization of the parents’ pain, even without dialogue, brings the viewer into a space unfathomable to most, unbearable for those who know too well. The use of the King Princess song “1950” meshes awkwardly with what is being portrayed on-screen at the time. But the character animation – McCormack and Govier’s experience as actors endows the couple with indelible humanity – and its visual discipline carry the film to its heartbreaking conclusion.

My rating: 8/10

Yes-People (2020, Iceland)

Icelandic film Já-Fólkið (Yes-People) is the epitome of cheap European computer-generated animation. Directed by Gísli Darri Halldórsson (a former Cartoon Network Studios character animator), Yes-People – the Best Icelandic Short winner at the 2020 Reykjavik International Film Festival and the Children’s Choice Award winner at 2020’s Nordisk Panorama – is a largely aimless movie following the zany lives of the people who live in an apartment complex. That is all I have to say about the film’s narrative. The sketches it draws in each character’s life always feel disjointed and disconnected from all the others – save one scene of the elderly couple fornicating loud enough for their downstairs neighbors to hear. Halldórsson describes his film as a mosaic of personalities, but even a mosaic has a thematic consistency that unifies its disparate parts.

The desaturated colors of Yes-People are meant to resemble old photographs. As much as I respect what Halldórsson is aiming for, the results make the film look muddy, half-rendered – like a knockoff Pixar short from the early 1990s. Inspired when Halldórsson described to some of his Irish friends about the different tonal meanings of the word “Já” (“hello” in Icelandic), Yes-People only has one repeated word of dialogue throughout: “Já”. Is this supposed to be funny? Philosophical? I am not sure; and I am not sure the film knows it either. Reading some of Halldórsson’s interviews following his Academy Award nomination, he mentions that the film’s positive response from Iceland and Scandinavia might be culturally specific, as opposed to other parts of the world. As to what those cultural differences might be that prevented me from liking this film, I hardly have a clue.

My rating: 6/10

^ All ratings based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

Three other films played in this package as honorable mentions: Kapaemahu (2020; 7.5/10), The Snail and the Whale (2019; 6.5/10), and To: Gerard (2020; 6.5/10).

From previous years: 85th Academy Awards (2013), 87th (2015), 88th (2016), 89th (2017), 90th (2018), 91st (2019), 92nd (2020).

[dansnaturepictures]

05/09/2021-Blog 1 of 2: Wonderful waders, Wheatears and more at Lymington and home: My first Curlew Sandpiper of the year and more

On a very sunny and warm day I enjoyed Woodpigeon in the garden, bee coming in my room briefly and loved seeing lots of Small White butterflies in the back garden especially one I got close to when walking through to go out this afternoon which I took the second picture in this photoset of where I also enjoyed the flowers in the garden again especially hebe and sedum starting to come into flower and noticing some fleabane in the garden one of the flowers I am most fond of seeing outside for the first time seeing this lovely yellow one in the garden so another big garden flower highlight for me this year. I also took the third picture in this photoset of a red flower and on the way back through the garden with it still very sunny when back home I took the final two pictures in this photoset of flowers in the garden enjoying the alyssum and chrysanthemum again too.

We then came to Lymington in pursuit of Curlew Sandpiper and Little Stint that had been around as always key September bird targets for us. Fitting for the day #WildflowerHour occurs on Twitter as is so often the case I had a strong botanical start to the walk as I noticed more lovely sea aster on the fringes of Eight Acre pond at Salterns Sailing Club where we parked near a flower I noticed within this reserve but further along at Pennington for the first time this year last weekend and then I saw it’s purple and yellow lookalike some stunning Michaelmas daisies glowing in the sunshine as we got onto the path including the one in the fourth picture in this photoset I took today. I first ever saw these here and they are one of my favourite flowers to look for in late summer and early autumn at such areas. Also one I knew before my big delve into flowers. So it was lovely to see them today. I also saw the key for the area rock samphire my first of the year of these too beautiful quirky shaped green flowers and as the walk went on ragwort, bindweed, yarrow, carrot and the first broad-leaved clover I’d seen in a while looked great.

Walking on towards Normandy lagoon where the two wader targets of ours were reported at and I saw my first of a long stream of glorious Wheatears this afternoon. It was exceptional to see this exotic and striking species flying around and settled on the ground and on posts, including the path and the bits of land on the lagoon. I very much enjoyed seeing some of the most I ever had of them in one day for this migrant that is passing back through areas like these on the way back to Africa currently that I have seen so much of this year quite notable for a bird I was seeming to see a little less of the past couple of years perhaps so this is really encouraging. I got the sixth picture in this photoset of one among others I tweeted on Dans_Pictures tonight. We saw another colourful delight around this area when a smashing Kingfisher darted around over the lagoon and channel beside it the first I’d seen for a little while and key bird here so this was great. I also saw my first of a strong amount of Curlews today at this point probably my most at once this year which again is very encouraging for this species who’s decline and struggles have been well documented with them flying around a lot and seen still. I took the fifth picture in this photoset of one. 

Then we had the moment of the day when on Normandy lagoon we spotted the almost snow white plumage of the juvenile Curlew Sandpiper on Normandy lagoon as it was illuminated by the bright sun. It was special to make out its splendid patterned back too. We got one of our best ever views of this species building brilliantly on last year’s some of my best ever views at Farlington Marshes in September. I took the first and seventh pictures in this photoset of this bird. It was extraordinary to watch this wonderful bird sparkle as it waded in the shallows of the lagoon and rested on the shingle  nicely too with Dunlin and Ringed Plover around nicely for comparisons particularly of size with the Curlew Sandpiper considerably bigger. I was in my element watching this species some amazing views of one of my birds of the year and my first of the species in 2021. Fittingly for a bird that was involved here in at the time my 2014 year list overtaking my 2013 one to become my then highest year list, it took my 2021 year list to 177 levelling my 2014 total to make it my joint sixth highest ever year list with my totals in 2019, 2018, 2017, 2020 and 2016 higher than this with the final totals in that order. Another amazing moment with my year list this year and something I am so pleased to get to. And I feel so very lucky and humbled to be able to say that it means its another month that I have now definitely got at least one bird year tick in, my chain of getting at least one year tick in every month since November 2015 goes on. It was great to see both Curlew and Curlew Sandpiper well today not something I’d noticed happening a lot before I may have seen Curlews on the same day as Curlew Sandpipers as it’s always the right habitat but it hasn’t stuck in my mind before.

It’s remarkable over the years how many times on the same day as seeing my first Curlew Sandpiper of the year I see my first Little Stint of the year too or it’s the next year tick after it or the one before they are both around at the same time of year after all and are a real due for me. We then walked around the rest of the lagoon getting quite near to Lymington town to see if we could see the Little Stints that had been around too but we didn’t manage it today. We did see some more incredible waders though. With very big numbers of Ringed Plover and Redshank throughout the afternoon and some Redshanks on the mudflats with the tide out mostly were making a racket which was so delightful to hear with their high-pitched call and it was noticeable to some other people walking which was interesting, the former one of my birds of the weekend after seeing them yesterday at Hill Head too. There were also loads and loads of slick looking Greenshank today, as there quite often is at this time of year. It was fantastic to see them with memorable views of three together on the lagoon and one flying on the mudflats the other side of the sea wall from the lagoon too which I hadn’t often seen before and I photographed as tweeted tonight I have had a top few weeks for these as one of my stars of Rutland Water when we went last month and had a good year for them. Spotted Redshank were on the lagoon too. On the shore with some Redshanks and then later behind the fence of the lagoon quite close to us with a Lapwing was a shiny golden Bar-tailed Godwit with its upturned beak and name providing marking on its tail feathers. A wonderful bird to see another of my birds of the year which it was thrilling to see again in 2021 and I felt so lucky. I took the eighth picture in this photoset of one. 

Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first Curlew Sandpiper of the year, two of my favourite birds the Little Egret and Kingfisher, Redshank, Spotted Redshank, Greenshank, Black-tailed Godwit, Bar-tailed Godwit, Curlew, Oystercatcher, Lapwing, Dunlin, Ringed Plover, great views of Grey Herons I took a picture of one with my bridge camera which starred today rather I took all but two of my many bird photos today with it which reminded me of the first picture I ever produced with the bridge camera I believe in this month three years ago of a Grey Heron at Titchfield Haven I don’t think I envisaged at that stage how important this second camera would become for me with all the help for birds further away and with ID so its exciting to celebrate the three years for me, Cormorant, Black-headed Gull, lots of Herring Gulls including many young, Mallard, Tufted Duck with a shine in its eye, Wheatear, great views of Stonechat and Reed Bunting too, Whitethroat, Feral Pigeon, strong view of a large Raven, a Swallow nicely fairly late on at the place I saw my first of the year on Easter Sunday which seems an age ago now, Small White, Brimstone, Small Heath out late as they often are at this type of habitat, another butterfly I couldn’t quite see what either Peacock or Red Admiral and dragonflies I couldn’t quite see which as they were flying fast.

My next post has some landscape pictures I took today and more reflections on the day.    

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Umbrella Academy OC Masterlist

(I’ll update this with my own gifs as soon as I have the time/energy but I realized how out of date the old one was and had to fix it, as part of my bigger mission to update all of my masterlists)

Name: Aiden Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 8, The Enigma

Story: My Way Home

Face claim:  Candice King

Power: Redacted

Name: Alice Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 8, The Heart

Story: Six Impossible Things

Face claim:  Sophie Cookson

Power: Empathy

Summary:  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 seven of them.  

And then, an eighth.  Five years after the mysterious births, Alice’s parents died in an accident, and she was quickly taken in by the billionaire.  Unfortunately, she turned out to be even more useless than Number Seven. An empath, not only were her powers useless, but they made her weak and unreliable.  On the day they turned eighteen, Alice parted ways with her siblings, moving across the country to become a licensed psychologist, using the same powers that had always been mocked.  She’s finally happy, when her father dies and she has to return home. But when Number Five shows up, not looking a day over thirteen, Alice has to help stop the apocalypse, and learn the truth about her own powers along the way.

Name: Andrea Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 8, The Ace

Story: Running Just As Fast As We Can

Face claim: Crystal Reed

Power: Luck

Summary: On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth, you know the drill.  Despite being one of the miracle children, Andrea never felt like she was born lucky or lucky to be born.  Yes, having the power of good luck came in handy, but it also came with endless scorn from her siblings, and even from her father.  It meant never knowing if she deserved something or if she only got it because of her powers.  It meant being put through worse and worse torture every day of her life as Sir Reginald Hargreeves tested the limits of her powers.  It meant being lucky — unlucky, if you asked her — to survive the same mission that had taken Ben from her.  She was the one who should have died, but as luck would have it, the universe took Ben instead.

That was the final straw for Andrea, who left the Academy within the week.  She built herself a new life.  A successful life.  A life where she would never know if she had actually worked for, had actually earned, anything that she had.  She lost contact with her siblings.  She lost her family.  She lost herself.  And then her luck finally worked out well: Reginald Hargreeves was dead, and her long lost brother was finally home.

And the apocalypse was only days away.  Go figure.

Name: Andromeda Hargreeves

Alias/Number: Number 6: The Echo

Story: Ghosts Of The Past

Face claim:  Nina Dobrev

Power: Power mimicry

Summary: 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.  Originally number Seven, Andromeda’s ability to copy anyone else’s powers should have made her number one, but she struggled to control it.  While theoretically she should have been able to mimic any power so long as she’d seen it used before, and to use multiple powers at once, Andromeda struggled to copy anything unless she could see the person whose power it was, and could barely handle one let alone multiple.  

She’d long since stopped hoping to improve her rank when suddenly Ben dies, and Andromeda finds herself reappointed as Number Six, and the only power she doesn’t seem to struggle to use?  Klaus’ ability to see their dead brother.  Unable to cope with it, Andromeda travels halfway across the world, and the further she gets from Klaus, the weaker her mimic gets. Finally separated from her family, and the ghosts of her past, Andromeda is ready for her fresh start.  For over a decade she lives like she’s normal; no superheroes, no mimics, and no ghosts, but her father’s funeral forces her to return to all three - and now with the added bonus of the apocalypse.

Name: April King

Alias: The Siren

Story: Siren Song

Face Claim: Cara Delevigne

Love interest: Diego Hargreeves

Power: Persuasion/Hypnotic Speech

Summary: In 1989, forty-three women simultaneously give birth, despite showing no signs of pregnancy prior to each birth. Seven are found and adopted by eccentric billionaire Sir Reginald Hargreeves, who raises them as a superhero team.  April King is not one of those seven, but she grew up only two blocks away from them.  She befriended Diego at a fairly young age, and by the time the siblings drift apart, the Kraken and the Siren are an unstoppable team.  But when April accompanies Diego to Reginald Hargreeves’ funeral, she finds herself caught up in the Apocalypse and, even worse, family drama.

Name: Arya Bassi

Story: Ut Malum Pluvia

Faceclaim: Summer Bishil

Love Interest: Diego Hargreeves

Power: Redacted

Summary: When a twenty-four year old Arya Bassi first met Diego Hargreeves, she didn’t think anything of it.  He was just another bodyguard that her overly paranoid father had hired to protect his little miracle.  He would be replaced by the next event, and it wasn’t worth getting attached.  Only, the next event rolled around and Diego was back.  And then again, and again, and again.  For five years, Diego served as Arya’s bodyguard, best friend, part-time roommate, and occasional fake boyfriend.  The two went everywhere together, told each other things they’d never told anyone else, became two halves of a whole.  And then Reginald Hargreeves died, and Diego asked Arya to be his date to the funeral.  

Going to unpleasant events as Diego’s date was hardly new to her, and saying no would never have crossed her mind, but usually he was the one responsible for protecting her, not the other way around.  Still, even if he hadn’t wanted her support, Arya would die before she would let her best friend face that particular nightmare alone.

She used to roll her eyes when her father told her that she shouldn’t — couldn’t — trust anyone but her newest bodyguard turned other half, but as the apocalypse nears and some woman who calls herself The Handler takes a terrifying interest in Arya, she starts to think that maybe he had been onto something all along.

Name: Athena Patch

Alias: AP, The Myth

Story: Patchwork Family

Faceclaim: Tessa Thompson

Power: Technopath

Summary: 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 seven, and Athena Patch wasn’t one of them.  Born barely two months after her half sister Eudora, Athena had always known that she was different but, no matter how much money he offered, her parents refused to give her to Reginald, and Athena never met the Umbrella Academy.

Until she was 21, a skilled technopath and recent orphan, in the same Police Academy class as her sister and a boy who could have been her brother, and Athena found herself a new family with the two of them.

And then Diego dropped out and became a vigilante, Athena dropped out to become a hacker, and Eudora actually followed through and became a cop, but the three remained their own little family.  And then Reginald Hargreeves dies, and Athena accompanies Diego to the funeral for the man who could have been her father, meets more people who could have been her siblings, and gets roped into stopping the apocalypse.

Name: Audrey Hargreeves

Alias/Number: Number 8, The Charmer

Story: Mesmerizing

Faceclaim: Emeraude Toubia

Power: Hypnosis

Summary: 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.

Audrey Hargreeves, The Charmer, was gifted with the power of hypnosis.  So long as she focused, Audrey would use words or movement to put anyone under her spell.  So, as an extra piece of her training, Reginald had her trained in several forms of dance, and Audrey fell in love.  After years of abuse, she was unsurprised to find that her family was falling apart, and was one of the first to call it quits.  Instead of staying in their personal hell-mansion, Audrey chose to pursue ballet and avoid using her powers as much as possible, and to never, ever look back.  But then Reginald died, the surviving siblings reunited, Five showed up to warn them about the apocalypse, and Audrey realizes that the past can never stay in the past.

Name: Autumn Hargreeves

Alias/Number: A

Story: Unlucky

Face claim:  Danielle Rose Russell

Power: Redacted

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 2000, 13 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 twelve

.Labelled A through a L, the Initials spent their early years training, mentored by their older siblings. And by the time the original Umbrella Academy dissolved, the new one was ready to take their place. For years, the new Academy thrived, until they too fell apart.

And then Reginald died, and the seventeen siblings reunited for the funeral. A lifetime of resentment, rivalries, and abandonment issues would be a lot for any family, let alone a family of superheroes whose long lost brother has just appeared for the first time in sixteen years. And that’s when Macey Arden, the thirteenth miracle, shows up.

Name: Bailey Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 8, The Angel

Story: Here’s To Never Growing Up

Face claim:  Ginny Gardner

Power: Cellular Regeneration

Summary:  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. But it soon becomes clear that Bailey Hargreeves is different from the rest of her siblings, that she ages at a fraction of the speed that they do.

When her siblings are thirteen, she is six; when they are eighteen, she is ten; when they are twenty nine, at the dawn of the apocalypse, she is fifteen. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the speed at which she ages, no consistency with which to plan. And Bailey, ever the youngest, can’t leave the mansion with her siblings. At least, not until Klaus, through means that she never wants to know, gets her registered as his own. And for twelve years, their system works. As far as anyone knows, Bailey is his daughter, dumped on his doorstep by a one night stand. It works; they’re as thick as thieves despite Bailey’s age and Klaus’ addiction, and everything is good. Until Reginald dies. Bailey was prepared for the fighting, she had accepted the bad blood, she was unfazed by the news of the apocalypse, but she never expected to no longer be the youngest of the Hargreeves siblings.

Name: Beatrice Lovecraft-Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 6.5, The Abomination

Story: The Monster In Me

Face claim:  Kaya Scodelario

Love Interest: Ben Hargreeves

Power: Eldritch Physiology (summons tentacles from her hands)

Summary:  On October 1st, 1989, Beatrice Lovecraft-Hargreeves is one of 43 miracle children, born to women who had not been pregnant when the day began.  On October 31st, 1989, Shailene and Rupert Lovecraft refused to give their daughter to billionaire Reginald Hargreeves.

But growing up just down the street from the Academy, Reginald never took his sight off of her, waiting for the opportune moment to add her to his collection.  That moment comes on December 31st, 1999, when tentacles emerge from Beatrice’s hands and slaughter her parents.  The billionaire is quick to step in and claim the girl, stealing her out from CPS and naming her 6.5, The Abomination, The Horror’s other half.  Only, he didn’t anticipate just how close the two would become; didn’t anticipate that the two so called monsters would fall in love.  Didn’t anticipate Beatrice dying when she was fourteen.

And then, three years later, Ben dies.  Klaus attempts to bring his brother, his best friend, back, but instead he brings back Beatrice.  And aside from now being a few years younger than the other Hargreeves’, she seems unchanged.  Except that now she and Klaus are bonded, now someone else can see his ghosts.  And just as they start to get used to it, Reginald Hargreeves dies and they have to return for the funeral.  They have to face the rest of the academy, who still think Beatrice is dead; who still don’t believe that Klaus can talk to Ben; who still all blame themselves — and each other — for the two tragedies.  And if that weren’t complicated enough, another presumed dead Hargreeves shows up with warnings of an impending apocalypse.

Name: Braeden Hargreeves

Alias/Number: The Brain, Number 8

Story: Knowledge Is Power

Face claim:  Blake Lively

Power: Knowledge

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth.  Yes, we know that.  Braeden Hargreeves, The Brain, was one of them.  Gifted with super intelligence, with the ability to know all of the information of any book or person that she touched, Reginald made it very clear that Braeden was not allowed to touch anyone at the Academy, ever.  Isolated and touch starved, Braeden found a coping mechanism in playing other people, which soon grew into a passion for acting.

At the age of eighteen, both she and her rival - sorry, sister - left home with the intention of pursuing theatre. While Allison went straight to Hollywood, using her powers to advance her career, Braeden went to Broadway and slowly but surely worked her way up until she was asked to play one of the two leads in a new TV show, a role which brought her face to face with her estranged sister.

As is often the case with siblings, their reunion brings back eighteen years of resentment and rivalries, and just as soon as they start to put the past behind them, their third sister publishes a tell all novel about their lives and everything falls apart again.

Name: Briana Hargreeves

Alias/Number: B

Story: Unlucky

Face claim:  Danielle Campbell

Power: Redacted

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 2000, 13 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 twelve.

Labelled A through a L, the Initials spent their early years training, mentored by their older siblings. And by the time the original Umbrella Academy dissolved, the new one was ready to take their place. For years, the new Academy thrived, until they too fell apart.

And then Reginald died, and the seventeen siblings reunited for the funeral. A lifetime of resentment, rivalries, and abandonment issues would be a lot for any family, let alone a family of superheroes whose long lost brother has just appeared for the first time in sixteen years. And that’s when Macey Arden, the thirteenth miracle, shows up.

Name: Cam Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 7

Story: Someone Will Bleed

Face claim:  Lana Condor

Power: Enhanced Fighting

Summary: 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.  And then there were seven.  After a mission gone south, nine year old Cam Hargreeves was left for dead.

While Cam moved on, learning to survive on her own while watching her siblings on the news, the remaining seven Hargreeves never could.  Diego and Luther, blaming each other for the loss of their third musketeer, went from the best of friends to bitter rivals.  Reeling from the loss of their sister, Allison and Vanya shut everyone out — save for Luther and Five respectively.  Ben grew quieter and Five grew more restless and Klaus turned to drugs in the hopes of never having to see his sister’s ghost.

But there was no ghost for him to see, because Cam wasn’t dead.  For six years, Cam struggled, but survived.  She watched on the news when Five suddenly stopped showing up; trying to find him by herself, but to no avail.  Until one day, shortly after her fifteenth birthday, a woman approached her.  She called herself the Commissioner, and invited Cam to join the Temps Commission and help save the world.  And, with nothing else going for her, Cam said yes, and was introduced to her partner; and old man who’d survived the apocalypse alone, who also happened to be her long lost brother.

And then Cam learned the truth.  The Commission’s goal was to make sure that the apocalypse happened.  And Five’s goal was to stop the apocalypse and save their family.  Well, at least Cam had no doubt about which side she was on.

Name: Cassie Hargreeves

Story: Dead Girl Walking

Face claim:  Claire Holt

Power: Prophecy

Summary:  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.  And then there were seven.  

Cassandra Hargreeves had been bought alongside her brother, Luther, but Cassie was a seer.  A seer who regularly advised that her siblings disobey Reginald, and her siblings always trusted her.  And when they were seven, Luther disobeyed Reginald for the first time, because Cassie told him to.  And Reginald decided that enough was enough.  He told her siblings that she had died, selling her to a “boarding school” in England, owned by an acquaintance of his.  Almost twenty three years later, Reginald Hargreeves died, as Cassie knew he would.  The surviving five Hargreeves children gather for the funeral and find themselves face to face with not one but two of their supposedly dead siblings, both of whom bring warnings of the impending apocalypse.

Name: Catarina Moreno-Hargreeves

Alias/Number: The Witch

Title: Promise Of Fidelity

Face claim:  Eiza Gonzalez

Love Interest: Diego Hargreeves

Power: Witchcraft

Summary:  Entreat me not to leave thee, and to return from following after thee, for whither thou goest, I will go. When Catarina Moreno first spoke those words, the day she married Diego Hargreeves, she meant them. Two miracle babies, The Kraken and The Witch, and the tumultuous road that had brought them together, and neither could imagine being apart ever again. And years later, she still meant them. Funerals, family reunions, and apocalypses would never be enough to take her from her husband’s side - even learning about his deceased father’s obsession with her couldn’t do that.

Reginald Hargreeves had sought Catarina Moreno for years, offering everything he could to her parents in exchange for their little miracle, but they refused. All the way to the day he died, he always swore that she was they key to stopping the apocalypse, always knew that he needed to bring her together with the Academy, but he never expected that to be as Diego’s wife.

But still, like clockwork, the apocalypse comes, and Catarina is right there by her husband’s side, ready to face whatever comes their way. Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.

Name: Cherie Hargreeves

Alias/Number: C

Story: Unlucky

Face claim:  Jenny Boyd

Power: Redacted

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 2000, 13 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 twelve.

Labelled A through a L, the Initials spent their early years training, mentored by their older siblings. And by the time the original Umbrella Academy dissolved, the new one was ready to take their place. For years, the new Academy thrived, until they too fell apart.

And then Reginald died, and the seventeen siblings reunited for the funeral. A lifetime of resentment, rivalries, and abandonment issues would be a lot for any family, let alone a family of superheroes whose long lost brother has just appeared for the first time in sixteen years. And that’s when Macey Arden, the thirteenth miracle, shows up.

Name: Cleo Sullivan

Story: Ricochet

Faceclaim: Tessa Thompson

Love Interest: Luther Hargreeves

Power: Sonic Scream

Summary: Cleo Sullivan knew a lot of things.  She knew that she was born on October 1st, 1989; she knew that her mother called her her “little miracle”; she knew that law school was supposed to be the hardest part of her life.  She knew that when people said she had a “killer voice”, they meant it literally; she knew that running around in black leather, punishing abusers who’d gotten away was a bad idea; she knew that she needed to keep her powers a secret.  She knew that Luther Hargreeves, of the Umbrella Academy Hargreeves, had died to save her.  But then her best friend Eudora’s ex, and her own part time vigilante parter Diego — one of the only people who knew the truth about her birth — came around asking for her help to save the world, and Cleo Sullivan meets a man with a familiar face and an unfamiliar body.  And Cleo Sullivan learns that she was wrong, on at least one of those counts.

Name: Dahlia Mort

Story: Ultraviolence

Faceclaim: Jodie Comer

Love Interest: Diego Hargreeves

Power: Redacted

Summary: 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 seven of them. Dehlia wasn’t one of them. In fact, within hours of her birth, she wasn’t even in 1989 anymore. Her mother opened a briefcase and, in a flash, she was at the Commission.

So Dahlia grew up, trained, learned to walk and talk, trained, got a sister, trained. Desperate to prove herself, Dahlia threw herself into her work, at the expense of having an actual life.  She proved herself to be the best of the best. Proved herself worthy of being trained by the best agent in commission history. Proved herself worthy of her family, her job, and even her birth.  But by 25, she had learned that nothing she did would be good enough for The Handler. For her mother. So, she stole a briefcase and ran away.

Que sera, sera; but life always has a way of going to shit.

Name: Destiny Hargreeves

Alias/Number: D

Story: Unlucky

Face claim:  Kaylee Bryant

Power: Redacted

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 2000, 13 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 twelve.

Labelled A through a L, the Initials spent their early years training, mentored by their older siblings. And by the time the original Umbrella Academy dissolved, the new one was ready to take their place. For years, the new Academy thrived, until they too fell apart.

And then Reginald died, and the seventeen siblings reunited for the funeral. A lifetime of resentment, rivalries, and abandonment issues would be a lot for any family, let alone a family of superheroes whose long lost brother has just appeared for the first time in sixteen years. And that’s when Macey Arden, the thirteenth miracle, shows up.

Name: Emery Raves

Story: Holding On

Faceclaim: Chloe Bennett

Power: Redacted

Summary: Emery Raves wasn’t dead.  Emery Raves should have been dead; everyone else in the world was.  Everyone except for Emery Raves and the boy who showed up in a flash of blue.  And the boy, Five, explained.  The world had ended; he survived because he was a time traveller; on October 1st, 1989 — her birthday — a group of kids with superpowers had been born; and, somehow, Emery had powers that allowed her to survive the end of the world.  Decades later and a week before the world was going to end, Emery had to hope that, whatever her still unknown powers might be, this time they would be enough to save the entire world.

Name: Emma Hargreeves

Alias/Number: E

Story: Unlucky

Face claim:  Madelaine Petsch

Power: Redacted

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 2000, 13 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 twelve.

Labelled A through a L, the Initials spent their early years training, mentored by their older siblings. And by the time the original Umbrella Academy dissolved, the new one was ready to take their place. For years, the new Academy thrived, until they too fell apart.

And then Reginald died, and the seventeen siblings reunited for the funeral. A lifetime of resentment, rivalries, and abandonment issues would be a lot for any family, let alone a family of superheroes whose long lost brother has just appeared for the first time in sixteen years. And that’s when Macey Arden, the thirteenth miracle, shows up.

Name: Fae Hargreeves

Alias/Number: F

Story: Unlucky

Face claim:  Zoey Deutch

Power: Redacted

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 2000, 13 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 twelve.

Labelled A through a L, the Initials spent their early years training, mentored by their older siblings. And by the time the original Umbrella Academy dissolved, the new one was ready to take their place. For years, the new Academy thrived, until they too fell apart.

And then Reginald died, and the seventeen siblings reunited for the funeral. A lifetime of resentment, rivalries, and abandonment issues would be a lot for any family, let alone a family of superheroes whose long lost brother has just appeared for the first time in sixteen years. And that’s when Macey Arden, the thirteenth miracle, shows up.

Name: Gail Hargreeves

Alias/Number: G

Story: Unlucky

Face claim:  Emily Rudd

Power: Redacted

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 2000, 13 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 twelve.

Labelled A through a L, the Initials spent their early years training, mentored by their older siblings. And by the time the original Umbrella Academy dissolved, the new one was ready to take their place. For years, the new Academy thrived, until they too fell apart.

And then Reginald died, and the seventeen siblings reunited for the funeral. A lifetime of resentment, rivalries, and abandonment issues would be a lot for any family, let alone a family of superheroes whose long lost brother has just appeared for the first time in sixteen years. And that’s when Macey Arden, the thirteenth miracle, shows up.

Name: Gemma Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 8, The Hurricane

Story: The Tempest

Face claim:  Phoebe Tonkin

Power: Weather Manipulation

Summary: Life was supposed to be better.  She wasn’t Number 8 anymore — special but never special enough.  She was Gemma Hargreeves now, a real girl with a life outside of the Umbrella Academy — and in fact, it was only two weeks until she wouldn’t even be a Hargreeves anymore.  On April 2nd, 2019, she was supposed to have her dream wedding with her dream husband; the only thing that would have made it better would have been her siblings, but not a single invitation had gotten any response whatsoever.  It hurt, but she had known when she finally left the mansion that she would never see them again.

But then Reginald Hargreeves dies, and as much as she doesn’t want to go back to the mansion, Gemma knows that she can’t give up on the one chance she has to see her siblings again.

Name: Hadley Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 8

Story: Unlucky

Face claim:  Kat McNamara

Power: Redacted

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 2000, 13 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 twelve.

Labelled A through a L, the Initials spent their early years training, mentored by their older siblings. And by the time the original Umbrella Academy dissolved, the new one was ready to take their place. For years, the new Academy thrived, until they too fell apart.

And then Reginald died, and the seventeen siblings reunited for the funeral. A lifetime of resentment, rivalries, and abandonment issues would be a lot for any family, let alone a family of superheroes whose long lost brother has just appeared for the first time in sixteen years. And that’s when Macey Arden, the thirteenth miracle, shows up.

Name: Helena Hargreeves

Alias: Number 7, The Soul

Story: So Long & Goodbye

AO3 | FFNet | Wattpad

Faceclaim: Taissa Farmiga

Power: Emotional Absorption

Love Interest: past Klaus Hargreeves

Summary: 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.

Number 7 — The Soul — Helena Hargreeves was one of them. Cursed with the ability to absorb emotions, and without the ability to filter them out, living in the mansion was a constant nightmare. So, sixteen and traumatized by the loss of her second brother, Helena followed Klaus out of the mansion and out of their siblings’ lives. The next several years of her life passed in a blur of drugs and drinking, until an overdose landed Helena in rehab. Thirty days later, and sober for the first time in years, Helena promised herself that she would keep it that way, and two years later she finally left Klaus. With help from Diego, she got her life together, got a job, and started her life over without Klaus or her siblings. And she was fine, she was good, until Diego showed up one night, begging her to go home with him for their father’s funeral.

Name: Isabel Hargreeves

Alias/Number: I

Story: Unlucky

Face claim:  Sophie Turner

Power: Redacted

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 2000, 13 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 twelve.

Labelled A through a L, the Initials spent their early years training, mentored by their older siblings. And by the time the original Umbrella Academy dissolved, the new one was ready to take their place. For years, the new Academy thrived, until they too fell apart.

And then Reginald died, and the seventeen siblings reunited for the funeral. A lifetime of resentment, rivalries, and abandonment issues would be a lot for any family, let alone a family of superheroes whose long lost brother has just appeared for the first time in sixteen years. And that’s when Macey Arden, the thirteenth miracle, shows up.

Name: Jaden Hargreeves

Alias/Number: J

Story: Unlucky

Face claim:  Dylan Sprayberry

Power: Redacted

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 2000, 13 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 twelve.

Labelled A through a L, the Initials spent their early years training, mentored by their older siblings. And by the time the original Umbrella Academy dissolved, the new one was ready to take their place. For years, the new Academy thrived, until they too fell apart.

And then Reginald died, and the seventeen siblings reunited for the funeral. A lifetime of resentment, rivalries, and abandonment issues would be a lot for any family, let alone a family of superheroes whose long lost brother has just appeared for the first time in sixteen years. And that’s when Macey Arden, the thirteenth miracle, shows up.

Name: Josephine “Joey” Hargreeves

Alias/Number: Number 8, The Keeper

Story: Run Girl Run

AO3 | FFNet | Wattpad

Face claim: Avi Lake

Power: Panmnesia

Summary:  On October 1st, 1989, Josephine Hargreeves was born.  On October 1st, 2002, she turned 13.  On November 20th, 2002, she travelled too the apocalypse, and on April 1st, 2019, the world ended.

Joey and Five Hargreeves had always been inseparable, so no when was surprised when she followed him out of the mansion after his worst fight with Reginald.  But neither came back.

After a terrible first attempt at time travel, Joey and Five find themselves spending decades in a post apocalyptic future until finally, finally, Five finds a way back.

On April 1st, 2019, two thirteen year olds witness the end of the world.  Forty years later, on March 24th, 2019, they get the chance to stop it.

Name: June McLaughlin

Story: High All The Time

Face claim:  Anna Kendrick

Love Interest: Klaus Hargreeves

Power: Time Manipulation

Summary: 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.  June McLaughlin never knew that her mom hadn’t been pregnant.  She lived a fairly normal life, although she often lost track of time - to a point where she spent half of her teenage years seeing doctors and specialists.  But after witnessing her parents die in a mall shooting, the then twenty one year old finds herself feeling completely lost and disconnected, and soon finds her way to the party scene, spiraling further and further downwards, losing more and more time, until one day she meets an equally messed up boy with tattoos on each of his hands and the exact same birth minute as hers.

Name: Kacey Hargreeves

Alias/Number: K

Story: Unlucky

Face claim:  Sarah Jeffrey

Power: Redacted

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 2000, 13 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 twelve.

Labelled A through a L, the Initials spent their early years training, mentored by their older siblings. And by the time the original Umbrella Academy dissolved, the new one was ready to take their place. For years, the new Academy thrived, until they too fell apart.

And then Reginald died, and the seventeen siblings reunited for the funeral. A lifetime of resentment, rivalries, and abandonment issues would be a lot for any family, let alone a family of superheroes whose long lost brother has just appeared for the first time in sixteen years. And that’s when Macey Arden, the thirteenth miracle, shows up.

Name: Kamaria Hargreeves

Story: Moonstruck

Faceclaim: Minka Kelly

Power: Redacted

Love Interest: Luther Hargreeves

Summary: 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.  Grace Hargreeves had been pregnant when the day began, and Kamaria’s birth had been pregnant.  Her birth was expected.  What wasn’t expected was that for some reason — her alien biology, Reginald’s experiments, or maybe just fate — her birth would trigger the birth of 43 miracle children.  Instead of getting one child that day, Reginald Hargreeves got eight.

Being number Zero was supposed to be an honour.  She was supposed to be the best of the best, but Kamaria knew better — Reginald didn’t see her as a person.  And if she’d ever doubted it, he would have confirmed it when he faked her death and locked her away in a separate wing of the mansion, keeping her isolated from everyone but he and Pogo.  For years, Kamaria trained in isolation, mastering her powers and growing in resentment, until finally she managed to break out of the mansion.  She started a new life as a professional dancer, and left the past in the past.  And then Luther showed up at one of her performances with no recollection of her existence.  And then Luther went to the moon the next morning.  And then Reginald Hargreeves died.

And, eleven years after finally escaping, Kamaria Hargreeves went home, only to find out that her former classmates — siblings? — and even her own mother didn’t remember that she’d ever existed.

Name: Kiera Cassidy

Story: Screaming Out

Faceclaim: Shay Mitchell

Power: Banshee

Summary:  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 seven.

Not only was Kiera Cassidy not one of them, but she had never even heard of Reginald Hargreeves or the Umbrella Academy.  Until she turned twelve, and her parents dragged her across the country in hopes of finding a doctor who could explain her sudden, inexplicable screaming and tendency to sleepwalk to cemeteries and murder scenes.  They didn’t find doctors, but Kiera found something better.

A boy in a mausoleum.

Name: Kylie “Ky” Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 0, The Bomb

Story: Ignite Me

Face claim:  Brie Larson

Power: Energy Manipulation

Summary:  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.  Kylie Hargreeves was one of them.  

Gifted with the ability to manipulate energy, Ky was given the highest honour; number Zero, the Bomb.  While she was treated better than her siblings, she saw the suffering they endured, and did her best to defend them, but after Number Five disappeared, nothing was the same.  

She tried to hold her family together, but in the end they still fell apart, and she never thought that she would see them again.  But then their father dies, and the siblings are forced to reunite.  But they aren’t the same as Ky remembers them, and frankly, neither is she.  She can handle temperamental siblings and a lifetime of resentments, but can she get them to cooperate long enough to stop the apocalypse?

Name: Larissa Hargreeves

Alias: Number 8

Story: Say It Ain’t So

Faceclaim: Troian Bellisario

Power: Precognitive Vocifery

Summary: Larissa Hargreeves had been the golden girl, once.  The perfect daughter who could speak anything into reality as long as she believed enough.  She had been the original Number One, until her fall from grace.  The first time she ever failed to speak something into existence, the first time she hadn’t been able to believe hard enough, she was unceremoniously demoted to Number Eight, where she spent the rest of her miserable years at the Hargreeves Mansion before finally breaking out.

That was supposed to be the end of it; she was never supposed to have to go back to the source of her trauma.  But apparently she hadn’t believed that enough either, because a few months before her thirtieth birthday, Reginald Hargreeves dies and Larissa has to go back home for the funeral turned family reunion.  She was supposed to go to appease Pogo and then leave again, and this time she would be free from the house of horrors for the rest of her life.

But even Larissa couldn’t just speak the apocalypse out of existence; that would be almost as impossible as speaking her siblings into cooperating.

Name: Leah Hargreeves

Alias: Number 8, The Phoenix

Story: Ghostly Scene

Faceclaim: Arden Cho

Power: Fire Manipulation

Summary: 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.

Leah Hargreeves was able to tolerate a lot of shit. She could handle the missions; she could handle the ‘lessons’; she could handle being forced to burn herself time and time again; she could even handle just about anything the universe threw at her. And then Ben died, and Leah found her limit. She could tolerate just about anything, but she couldn’t — wouldn’t — handle Reginald blaming she and her siblings for her twin’s death. And so the Hargreeves lost a second sibling that day.

Leah left the mansion as soon as the funeral was over. Yes, it broke her heart to lose the rest of her siblings, but she thought it would hurt less to lose them while they were alive than it would to lose a third – or fourth or fifth or sixth or seventh – sibling for good. She knew that she might never see them again, but she could at least cling to the hope that they were still alive. So she forced herself to move on, to never look back.

But when she sees Reginald’s death announced on the TV, Leah knows that she has to go back; that she has to at least try to reconnect with her remaining siblings. And given the choice between stopping the apocalypse or losing the rest of her family, well, there’s no choice at all.

Name: Leslie Hargreeves

Alias/Number: L

Story: Unlucky

Face claim:  Dove Cameron

Power: Redacted

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 2000, 13 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 twelve.

Labelled A through a L, the Initials spent their early years training, mentored by their older siblings. And by the time the original Umbrella Academy dissolved, the new one was ready to take their place. For years, the new Academy thrived, until they too fell apart.

And then Reginald died, and the seventeen siblings reunited for the funeral. A lifetime of resentment, rivalries, and abandonment issues would be a lot for any family, let alone a family of superheroes whose long lost brother has just appeared for the first time in sixteen years. And that’s when Macey Arden, the thirteenth miracle, shows up.

Name: Lindsey Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 0.5: The Void

Story: Colder Than This Home

Face claim:  Holland Roden

Power: Power amplification & nullification

Summary:  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.  Lindsey Hargreeves was both the most useful and useless of them all. Known as 0.5, or The Void, she had the power to shut off or amplify her siblings’ powers, but could do nothing for her own.  

She left the day she turned sixteen, planning to never look back, ready to live in a world without superpowers.  For over a decade, she lived in peace, until her father’s death forced her to return home and face the life that she swore never to return to.

Name: Lorelai Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 4.5, The Reaper

Story: Fear The Reaper

Faceclaim: Emma Watson

Power: Necrokinesis

Summary:

Once upon a time, forty-three not-pregnant women all gave birth at the exact same time.  Everyone knows what happened next; Reginald Hargreeves bought eight.  One, two, three, four, four and a half, five, six, and seven, and Lorelai Hargreeves didn’t even count as a whole person.  The Reaper to her twin’s Séance, the half to his four, Lorelai and Klaus had always been a team - even their powers went together.  “Gifted” with necrokinesis, Lorelai spent her childhood being forced to literally suck the life out of things.  

Unable to cope with the trauma of their powers, the twins turned to hard drugs and partying.  And then their favourite brother died, and that was the end.  They moved out a week later, vowing to leave everyone and everything Hargreeves in the past.  They kept that promise for over a decade, until Reginald Hargreeves is found dead in his study.

Name: Macey Arden

Alias/Number: N/A

Story: Unlucky

Face claim:  Olivia Holt

Power: Light Manipulation

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 2000, 13 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 twelve.

Labelled A through a L, the Initials spent their early years training, mentored by their older siblings. And by the time the original Umbrella Academy dissolved, the new one was ready to take their place. For years, the new Academy thrived, until they too fell apart.

And then Reginald died, and the seventeen siblings reunited for the funeral. A lifetime of resentment, rivalries, and abandonment issues would be a lot for any family, let alone a family of superheroes whose long lost brother has just appeared for the first time in sixteen years. And that’s when Macey Arden, the thirteenth miracle, shows up.

Name: Max Carmichael

Story: Supercut

Face claim:  Willa Holland

Power: Invisibility

Love Interest: Diego Hargreeves

Summary: The first time that one of Diego’s knives went missing he was eight and had figured that Klaus had gotten bored and stolen it.  Until he found a yellow sticky note with a red cat face drawn on, stuck to his knife holster.  Then a week later, Reginald came down to breakfast demanding to know who’d been in his office, waving an identical yellow sticky note in his hand.  This went on for the next ten years, and not a single person in the mansion was left out.  He had always figured that it was one of his siblings; after all, there was no way anyone could be getting in and out of the house unnoticed to pull it off.  But then he moves out and starts at the police academy, and within a day his handbook was gone and replaced with yet another sticky note.

Max Carmichael would say that she didn’t know why she had started targeting the Umbrella Academy mansion in the first place, but that would be a lie.  It was for the same reason that she’d started stealing at all; for attention, for recognition.  And, admittedly, to see how well her own superhuman powers held up against a team of real life superheroes.  The answer was too well, truth be told.  None of them didn’t even notice their stuff was missing in the first place — none except Diego Hargreeves.  Over the years, Max found herself more and more attached to the knife wielder, luring him into a game of cat-and-mouse that lasted for more than two decades.  She branched out eventually, museum heists and bank robberies keeping her plenty busy, but she always went back to Diego eventually.

But when Reginald Hargreeves dies, Max finds herself looking through all of the items she’d accumulated from the mansion over the years to see if there was anything that she could profit off of.  There were lots of knickknacks that would serve her well, but one particular find turns her path away from her favourite consignment shop and instead brings her face to face with Diego Hargreeves for the first time in their long, long chase.

Name: Maya Hargreeves

Alias/Number: Number 8

Story: Picture This

Face claim: Kat Graham

Power: Illusions

Summary: They say that seeing is believing, but Maya Hargreeves begs to differ.  After all, she could make people see anything she wanted.  It was both her gift and her curse, and the reason that she had been bought by Reginald Hargreeves.  For several years he used her powers for his own purposes, making her force people to see their worst nightmares; horrors that only they — and she — could see.  Until one day, Maya said no more.  She packed her bag and climbed out of her window, starting a new life and never looking back.

But ten years later, Reginald Hargreeves dies.  And despite knowing that appearances can be deceiving, Maya Hargreeves still can’t ignore the need to see it with her own eyes.

Name: Medea Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 8, The Sorceress

Story: All My Poison

Face claim:  Emma Dumont

Power: Poison & Telekinesis

Name: Mira Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 10

Story: Survivor

Face claim:  Madison Davenport

Power: Life Force Manipulation

Summary:  On April 1st, 2019, the world ends. Twenty years later, Mira Hargreeves is born, the only child of Five and Dolores Hargreeves. Ten years after that, Dolores Hargreeves dies, and Five is shocked when his seemingly ordinary daughter preserves her mother’s life force into the head of a mannequin, allowing them to continue to talk to them as they attempt to survive the apocalypse. And then, when Mira turns twenty, the Time Commission comes to recruit the last survivors of the apocalypse.

Years later, the father-daughter duo are on a mission when Five finally finds a way to return to his proper timeline, and Mira quickly joins him through the portal. She didn’t expect to find herself back in her eighteen year old body, or for her father to be thirteen again. But they survived once, and unexpected physical changes won’t keep them from surviving again.

Name: Mireille Labonair

Story: Come What May

Face claim: Elizabeth Henstridge

Power: Artistic Creation

Love Interest: Luther Hargreeves

Summary: Mireille Labonair was a genius, plain and simple.  She graduated high school at fifteen, university by eighteen, and had her doctorate by twenty-two — and no, none of it was due to her miraculous and unexpected birth on October 1st, 1989, thank you for asking.  Soon the young genius was approached by a certain Sir Reginald Hargreeves, who was fascinated by her prodigal advances in bio-chemistry.  He offered her a job, and by 23, Mirelle was working for the most infamous billionaire in the world.   Her job had its highs and lows, like any other job. 

 Befriending Luther Hargreeves was an absolute high; but his near death and Reginald’s unethical experiment were resounding lows.  Luther’s trip to the moon was a low, but access to equipment she had only ever dreamt of was a high.  Sir Reginald’s death was a bit of both, to be honest, but Luther’s return was a definite high.  But Luther’s long-lost brother showing up with warnings of an impending apocalypse?  That was definitely the biggest low in her career.

Name: Nadia Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 13, The Goddess

Story: The Kids From Yesterday

Face claim:  Gal Gadot

Power: Redacted

Name: Odessa Hargreeves

Alias/Number: Number 0

Story: Devised Suffering

Face claim:  Jennifer Lawrence

Power: Redacted

Summary: 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.  The twins, Vanya and Odessa, were the first two he obtained.

But despite sharing blood, the twins had nothing else in common.  Where Vanya was ordinary, Number Seven, Odessa was Number Zero, too powerful for her own good.  Resentment grew quickly, and Odessa was the first Hargreeves to move out, and the only Hargreeves not to go to Reginald’s funeral.

Odessa Hargreeves doesn’t remember the end of the world, exactly.  She remembers a flash of white as she collapsed, halfway across the world from her father’s funeral; she remembers waking up in a burning world, face to face with her long lost brother; but she doesn’t remember the world ending.

But after forty four years, after a lifetime of working alongside her now younger brother, Odessa finds herself returning to 2019 to attend the funeral at the mansion she swore she would never return to.

Name: Ophelia Dane

Alias/Number: Number 8, The Healer

Story: We Were Just Kids

Faceclaim: Katie McGrath

Love Interest: Ben Hargreeves

Power: Healing

Summary:  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 seven of them.

He didn’t get Ophelia Dane.  At least, not at first.  But when The Umbrella Avademy grows in fame, the Danes reach out to Reginald, telling him about their miracle daughter and her ability to heal any injury or illness she’d ever encountered.  And so, Number 8 is sold to the Academy.  Ophelia is twelve when she moves into the mansion, thirteen when she falls in love with Ben Hargreeves, and eighteen when she first encounters something that she can’t heal.

Despite her best efforts, Ophelia cannot save Ben’s life, and the realization pushes her to the point of leaving the Academy, her family, and her powers behind.  She goes on to study medicine, but refuses to her her powers ever again.  Until, over a decade later, Reginald dies and Ophelia has to face the life she left behind, and the people she couldn’t save.

Name: Poppy

Alias/Number: N/A

Story: The Girl That I Knew

Face claim: Emilia Clarke

Love Interest: Luther Hargreeves

Summary: 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 seven.

Not only was Poppy not one of the seven, she wasn’t one of the forty-three either. In fact, Poppy wasn’t build until the Hargreeves children were ten and Reginald decided that Grace was no longer enough to keep them in line. No, they needed a sister; someone to keep them in line, someone who they would be attached to, someone disposable enough that he could threaten to deactivate her if they stepped out of line. And so, Poppy was built, designed to age with the children so that they would truly see her as their sister.

But over the years, the Hargreeves left, and Reginald let Poppy’s maintenance fall by the wayside. He never noticed that as she grew to match her ‘siblings’, she was also growing into herself, developing free will and opinions of her own. And then he died, and for the first time in years, the Hargreeves family is united again to stop the apocalypse. But Poppy knows more than she is supposed to, and she no longer intends to play by Reginald’s rules.

Name: Quinn Hargreeves

Alias/Number: Number 5.5: The Girl

Story: Hear No Evil

AO3 | FFNet | Wattpad

Face claim:  Malina Weissman

Power: Telepathy

Summary: 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 seven.  And a half.

Number 5.5, The Girl was The Boy’s twin.  They were, for all intents and purposes, one person.  Known by her brother as Quinn, Number 5.5 was the team’s psychic, able to read the minds of anyone that she could see, or anyone that Number 5 could see.  But when Number 5 disappears, The Girl freezes.  Her body shows no signs of ageing or decaying, as if she has simply stopped.  But when her brother returns from the future with warnings of an impending apocalypse, Quinn wakes up.  And she remembers everything.

Name: Rebekah Hargreeves

Alias/Number: N/A

Story: We’ll Carry On

Face claim:  Meg Donnelly

Power: Redacted

Summary:  When the Hargreeves were fifteen, they snuck out to their first ever party — not that any of them remember it.  But nine months later, when a girl Luther almost recognizes shows up at the Academy with a baby she claims is his, Luther has no doubt that it’s true, and immediately agrees to take custody.  And so, Rebekah Hargreeves is the first child to grow up in the Academy knowing that she’s loved.  

For fourteen years, her life was pretty good.  Sure, her aunts and uncles had all left before her fifth birthday, and yes, her grandfather was a nightmare when it came to training her materialization abilities, and, okay, she’d spent the past four years desperately missing her dad, but it could have been worse.  And then her grandfather is found dead in his office, and Bekah knows that she’s about to find out how much worse it can get.

Name: Sierra Nearing

Story: Once Upon A Dream

Face claim:  Kennedy McMann

Power: Redacted

Summary: Sierra Nearing hadn’t planned on spending her life working at Griddy’s, but life didn’t care much for her plans.  She had moved in with Aunt Agnes when she was 11, after her mom passed away, and by 13 she had started helping out in the diner.  Thousands of faces had come and gone, but very few were as memorable as the Hargreeves.

There were seven of them when they first started coming, then six, then five, and Sierra watched as they all changed with each loss.  She watched how they went from giggling together in their favourite booth, eating donuts so fast that she worried they might make themselves sick, to barely picking at their donuts and trying not to meet each other’s eyes.  And then they stopped coming together at all.

They still visited, but separately, and Sierra would never pretend that she knew exactly what had happened, but she pieced it together over the years.  Allison left the city, the others left the mansion, Luther got left behind.  They all wanted to leave their pasts behind them, but none of them could let go of Griddy’s.  So they didn’t.  Once a week every week, each of them on a different day, they’d show up.  Looking for a warm drink and a bite to eat; looking for an escape from the rest of the world; looking for an open ear known as Sierra.  And so, Sierra listened.

Over the years she grew closer to the long-estranged Hargreeves siblings.  She stopped seeing them as customers and started seeing them as friends.  She did what she could to look out for them, to support them, to stand in for the siblings they’d lost over time.  But she never told any of them about their other siblings’ visits.  She wanted them to feel safe in the diner, like they had at least one place where they could let down their guards.  

They were never supposed to know that they all still shared a connection to Griddy’s, to Sierra.  Not until they were ready to face each other, to face their past.  But then Reginald Hargreeves dies, and Sierra receives not one but four invitations to the funeral.

Name: Sofia Martinez

Story: Stop The World

Face claim:  Lindsey Morgan

Power: Persuasive Speech

Love Interest: Diego Hargreeves

Summary: Despite Diego’s opinion, Sofia Martinez never stole anything.  She just… asked nicely.  She asked nicely for the Ferrari she’d left the dealership with on her sixteenth birthday; she asked nicely for the original Renoir panting that she’d obtained; she even asked nicely for permission to use the apartment that she and Diego shared in Al’s gym.  She’d never asked Diego to be her friend, or her roommate, she was very careful to not convince him to do anything.  She didn’t usually care who she used her gift on, but she never wanted to take away Diego’s free will.

But when Reginald Hargreeves dies under mysterious circumstances, Diego is the one doing the asking, and Sofia is as unable to say no to him as anyone else is to her.  And despite the family drama, mild torture, and the literal apocalypse, she can’t bring herself to regret saying yes.

Name: Sunny Tolbert

Story: Sunbeam

Face claim: Lily Collins

Power: Sunlight Manipulation

Summary:  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 didn’t get Sunny.  

Despite knowing that she was one of the forty-three miracle babies, Sunny Tolbert knew that she was nothing special.  Unlike the Umbrella Academy kids that she saw on the news, she had no powers, no gifts, nothing but a love of exploring old cemeteries; a love that brought her face to face with the Séance himself.  When she finds the boy, barely seventeen, sobbing in a graveyard, Sunny is desperate to protect him from the horrors that only he can see, and suddenly, something changes.  The cemetery is glowing; no, Sunny herself is glowing.  And maybe, just maybe, a boy who can talk to ghosts meeting a girl who can create light is exactly what it’ll take to save the world.

Name: Taylor Bell

Alias/Number: Number 5: The Replacement

Story: The Spare

Face claim:  Elizabeth Olsen

Power: Telekinesis

Summary:  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 seven. Taylor Bell was not one of them.  But after her parents’ mysterious deaths, only days after Number Five disappeared, Reginald Hargreeves finally adopted the telekinetic teenager.  Known as Number Five, The Replacement, Taylor has never had any doubt as to where she stands in this family.  She’s all too happy to turn her back on it all and leave as soon as she can, but then her father dies, she returns home, and the boy she was brought in to replace turns up, warning them about the apocalypse.

Name: Teresa Hargreeves

Alias: The Trial

Story: Legacy

Faceclaim: Kiernan Shipka

Power: Reverse Divination

Summary:  Klaus Hargreeves would be the first to admit that he doesn’t remember most of his teenage years.  He certainly doesn’t remember Tracy James, one of his many one night stands, but Tracy remembers him.  And, nine months after they first met, she shows up on the doorstep of the Academy, newborn baby in tow.  But before Tracy can find Klaus, she’s intercepted by Reginald Hargreeves himself, who convinces her to leave the child with her “loving” grandfather.  But Reginald never wanted a granddaughter, he wanted an experiment.  Teresa Hargreeves is raised in complete isolation in the east wing of the mansion, never once hearing about the Umbrella Academy.  Her life is restricted to Reginald’s trials and training sessions, nothing more.  Until Reginald dies, and Teresa shows up at the funeral, expecting it to only be herself, Grace, and Pogo.  But much to her surprise, six others show up, adults who claim to have grown up in the mansion.  Some teenage boy showing up with warnings about an impending apocalypse is nothing to Teresa, not when a simple handshake shows that she’s standing in front of her father for the first time in her life.

Name: Tiffany Katz

Story: Last Night Of The World

Faceclaim: Lily James

Love Interest: Diego Hargreeves

Summary:  On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth; Tiffany Katz was not one of those babies.  In fact, not only was Tiffany Katz not born on October 1st, Tiffany Katz wasn’t even born in 1989.

Born in 1940, alongside her twin brother Dave, Tiffany Katz was as ordinary as they came.  Her life was never supposed to be extraordinary, but when Klaus Hargreeves found himself in the Vietnam War, he met a soldier and a nurse and he fell in love, and that changed everything.  Tiffany watched as her brother fell in love with a strange man, tried to save him as he bled out in that man’s arms, and accidentally followed that strange man into the future.  She didn’t know much about Klaus Hargreeves, but when she finds herself in an unfamiliar city, around unfamiliar people, she turns to him for guidance.  When he tells her that she’s in the future with less than a week until the apocalypse?  For some reason, she can’t help but believe him.  And well, what else could she do but try to help the mysterious and super-powered Hargreeves siblings save the world?

And if saving the world brings her closer to Klaus’ incredibly cute brother with a thing for knives and leather, well, apparently the Katz siblings were just destined to fall for Hargreeves boys.

Name: Tori Hargreeves

Alias/Number: Number 8

Story: When It Rains

Face claim: Margot Robbie

Power: Redacted

Summary: No, Tori Hargreeves didn’t want to talk about her life in the Umbrella Academy.  Just because Vanya had thought that it was somehow acceptable to publish her bullshit book didn’t mean that she was right, and it definitely didn’t mean that Tori was going to start answering questions about her childhood.  When she left the mansion with Diego and Klaus she promised herself to leave the past in the past, and goddammit she would keep that promise.  

She wasn’t too proud of her first few years of freedom: the endless drinking and drugs with Klaus, the vigilantism with Diego, the admittedly tragic makeover she’d given herself… but she had turned her life around.  She had gotten a GED, graduated university, gone to law school.  She had passed the bar and started working in family law, determined to protect children from abusers in the same way she wished someone had done for her.  She had built herself a new life, one where she didn’t have to think about Reginald Hargreeves or his abuse.  One where she could be herself; where she could be happy.  But when it rains, it pours, and a storm of apocalyptic proportions is looming on Tori’s horizon.

She left the mansion with a promise to leave the past in the past but between Reginald’s death, Five’s dramatic return, and the upcoming apocalypse, Tori Hargreeves might have no choice but to break that promise.

Name: Vienna Montgomery

Story: The World Turned Upside Down

Face claim: Amanda Seyfried

Power: Lie Detection

Love Interest: Diego or Luther (tbd)

Summary: Vienna Montgomery knew that most private investigators didn’t find success quite as easily as she did, and she knew that it was because most private investigators didn’t have an uncanny ability to know when they were being lied to.  Maybe it was an unfair advantage, but she could live with that as long as she was helping people.  All she had ever wanted to do was help people, which is why her patch had started her off at the police academy.  She had loved training with Diego and Eudora, becoming the three musketeers of their their class, but she had quickly realized that being a police officer wasn’t what she wanted.  So, a week after Diego got kicked out, she quit and started PI training instead.

For almost ten years she had successfully run her own business, having dinner with Diego and Eudora at least once a week, never leaving a case unsolved, and gaining a reputation as the best PI in the city.  But her career would always be secondary to her friends.  Her two former classmates were her best friends; the only people who knew that the secret to her success; they were the only family she had.

But when Reginald Hargreeves dies, it isn’t Diego who asks her to go with him.  No, she gets the call from Luther Hargreeves, Diego’s long estranged brother and rival, asking her to come and investigate the mysterious death.

Name: Virginia West

Story: Written In Stone

Face claim:  Melissa Benoist

Power: Writing manifestation

Summary:  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.  Virginia West was not one of them.  

While her parents loved her, they were often away, and Virginia found solace with her beloved books.  A love of reading quickly turned into a dream of writing, but when she started her first story, at only nine years of age, Ginny learned that she was different.  As she wrote, her characters and stories came to life around her, and the more she wrote, the more real they became. Desperate to understand her own powers, Ginny found her way to Reginald Hargreeves, and to the Umbrella Academy.

Name: Wilhelmina Hargreeves

Alias/Number: Number 7; later Number 6

Story: Children Behave

Face claim: Victoria Pedretti

Power: Redacted

Summary: As Number 7, Wilhelmina Hargreeves had always come up short of the rest of her siblings — at least, those with powers.  After all, while projecting was useful, it wasn’t very useful in combat; it was a good distraction, but someone else still had to apprehend her targets.  It wasn’t particularly nice, to know that she would never be good enough, but she was used to it, she could handle it.  

Until she decided not to.  After Five disappeared, life at the mansion became infinitely worse, and at sixteen, Willa became the next of the siblings to leave the mansion.  She left her number with her siblings, packed up, and moved halfway across the country, and never heard from them again.  Until Ben died.  Until Ben died, and Willa knew, she just knew, that she could have prevented it if she hadn’t left — and, just a few years later, Vanya would tell the entire world the same thing when she published her book.

Which is why, when she hears about Luther’s accident only a few years later, she knows she has to go back to the house of her nightmares.  She can’t let another one of her siblings die, not when she could have saved him.  But when she returns to find out that she’s now Number 6, and that Luther is being sent to the moon, she realizes that Reginald had it all planned out — and she just gave him exactly what he wanted.

For four years, Willa found herself trapped in the mansion; unwilling to leave in case something happened to Luther, and unable to escape from Reginald’s constant scrutiny.  Until finally, four years later, Luther is coming home, Reginald is dead, and Willa is free — and the main suspect in Reginald’s death, with the apocalypse only days away.  So, maybe not so free.

Name: X Hargreeves

Alias/Number: 10, The Shadow

Story: Double Or Nothing

Face claim:  Millie Bobby Brown & Shelley Hennig

Power: Darkness Manipulation

[mal0dramatic]

@nomorerhyme

Today was the day. The day that their beloved husband, David Anderson, was marrying his eighth wife. Sure, she was only sixteen, but so was Mallory when she married him. And so were Dolly and all the other wives. She was 20 now, and little had changed in her life since that time. The only thing that was consistently developing and getting stronger within her was a sense of dread. With every new wife her husband took, her disgust for him grew a little bigger. 

She could usually tell when he had his eye on a new girl. He’d give them tons of attention and praise for a while and treat them like they were the most beautiful, perfect girl in the world and how he absolutely needed them by his side, to fulfill his life’s purpose. He’d make all sorts of grand statements about how it was the girl’s divine calling to marry him and bear his children, how it was the highest honor and that they were both made in God’s image. Mallory had rejected his philosophy a long time ago. Maybe it was because even from a very young age, she so strongly found herself attracted to other girls and fantasizing about one day marrying one. That certainly didn’t line up with David’s vision for her future. 

That wasn’t to say she hadn’t struggled with her faith, she had. It was inevitable. For the first three years, being married to him was like hell. His mood swings, his strange rants about God, his demanding and entitled attitude towards the wives. She had tried her best, just like everyone else, to be a good wife and to be what was expected of her. But she just wasn’t. It wasn’t until he took his seventh wife, Dolly - or as he liked to call her, Lucky - that Mallory found a real friend for the first time in her life. She got along just fine with the other wives, but Dolly was the first person she had a real click with. They would do most of their chores together, like cooking and cleaning and carrying David to bed whenever he drank too much and passed out on the couch. For a little while, things were actually quite nice. 

And then came the introduction of wife number eight. Mallory was tidying up the bedroom with Dolly’s help, when she looked through the window and spotted David outside with the new girl. They were kissing. Or more accurately, he was kissing her. For some reason, that was the last straw for Mallory and she turned away, averting her eyes while her hands stopped folding sheets. “I don’t think I can do this anymore”, she spoke up, though her voice was hushed. She knew it was dangerous saying things like that, but she trusted Dolly. They had shared similar sentiments with each other in the past, and this feeling had been gnawing away at her. She had been toying with the thought of escape for a while now. “We have to get out of here.”

[mikauzoran]

Marichat: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: Kiss Twenty-Five

Read it on AO3: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: ...as a “yes”.

“So…why are we going on this date as Princess and Chat Noir?” Chat inquired, hanging upside-down off of Marinette’s chaise longue as he watched her put the finishing touches on her chameleon-like makeup. “Wouldn’t it be less fuss to go as Adrien and Marinette?”

“Nope,” Marinette decreed, rubbing her lips to spread her lipstick evenly and letting the word go with a pop. “Reasons. Come help me with my necklace.”

“Yes, My Ladylove,” he chuckled, flipping over the chaise and going to her side.

He grinned widely when she handed him the bell necklace she’d worn for many of their special occasions.

“I’m a fan of the bell,” he purred, carefully working the clasp and slipping it around her neck.

“I know,” she chuckled. “That’s why I’m wearing it.”

Chat pursed his lips, giving his girlfriend a scrutinizing look. “You’re up to something.”

Marinette shrugged.

A wave of dread hit him, figuratively knocking his feet out from under him. “Am I forgetting an anniversary?” He scanned his mental calendar, trying to come up with a significant past event.

“Nope.” She shook her head with a mysterious smile. “Just a regular Saturday in August.”

He frowned, sensing that there was something he was missing. “It’s the eighth day of the eighth month. I’ve heard that the Chinese consider eight a lucky number, so it’s an auspicious day, at least.”

“That’s what my mom said,” Marinette snickered. “Come on. Time for our date.”

Chat quirked an eyebrow in suspicion but obediently followed as she made her way up to her loft and out onto the balcony. “May I know where we’re going, Princess?”

“To get ice cream. André’s waiting for us on the Pont des Arts,” she informed, giving his bell a gentle tap.

 People gawked and took pictures much as they had done for the past three and a half years, but, between dating Chat Noir as Princess and Adrien as Marinette, Marinette had long ago gotten used to the attention.

They got their ice cream from André and took it up to the rooftops to eat in relative peace as they watched the sun set in a rolling wave of citrus colours: tangerine, lemon, and grapefruit pink fading into soft lavender and rich indigo.

“You’re planning a surprise,” Chat accused through a wide grin.

Marinette shrugged, leaning in to give their shared ice cream cone a nonchalant lick.

Chat Noir presented his evidence: “You colluded with André so that he’d be waiting on the Pont des Arts for us.”

Marinette smiled enigmatically, refusing to play into his hand.

He pursed his lips and studied her. “So…”

She kept smiling.

He frowned. “Are you going to give me a hint?”

She shrugged again.

His frown morphed into a pout. “Are you at least going to tell me where we’re heading next?”

“Jardin du Luxembourg,” she granted, trying to play it cool, even as the ring box burned a hole through her purse.

 They strolled through the garden hand in hand, the shade of the trees combining with the twilight to afford them a little more privacy.

“Do you feel like I love you?” she asked as they approached the Medici Fountain.

He gave her a puzzled look but answered immediately, “Princess, I know you love me.”

She shook her head. “Yeah, but…do you feel like I love you? Do you feel loved?”

“Oh,” he breathed, nodding as he understood what she was really worried about. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, My Love. I do.”

She blew out a sigh of relief. “Okay. Good. Because you’re always going out of your way to do things for me to make me feel loved, and I just…I worry that I don’t speak your love language. I worry that I don’t say it enough or that I don’t say it in a way you understand.”

She stopped at the thigh-high fence around the fountain basin and turned to look at him. “You’re so precious to me. I want to make sure I’m taking care of you. I want to make sure I’m doing this right.”

“Princess, you are,” he stressed, tugging her over to one of the countless green metal chairs encircling the fountain. He sat, pulling her down onto his lap. “Why so serious tonight?” he whispered, giving her hair a comforting nuzzle.

“Just…nervous. Doubting myself, I guess. I worry a lot,” she mumbled, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’ve noticed.” He clicked his tongue and began to purr soothingly. “Don’t worry, My Ladylove. I see the effort you put in, how much you care about getting it just right for me. Most of the time you nail it, but, even when you don’t, I still see how hard you tried, and that means just as much to me as if the romantic gesture you were going for had gone off without a hitch. I feel loved, so don’t doubt yourself.”

She took several deep breaths and let them out slowly. “Okay…. Okay. Good.”

 “I knew it,” he snickered when they arrived at La Méditerranée and the server escorted them to their table. “We’re recreating our first date.”

“Maaaaaybe,” she chuckled, cocking an eyebrow nervously. “Is that romantic or cliché?”

“Romantic,” he assured decidedly. “…So long as you don’t feel compelled to order oysters just because we had oysters on our first date. I know you think they taste like seawater snot.”

She covered her mouth to muffle the sound as she burst out laughing. “Your father would have a heart attack if he knew you’d said that out loud in public.”

Chat shrugged, a wide, knife-like grin spreading across his lips. “You see, that’s the perk of being Chat Noir. Father doesn’t get to control or have an opinion on what I say in public.”

She shook her head, setting her menu aside to reach across the table for his hand.

The bell around her neck glinted in the dim restaurant light, and his smirk softened.

“It’s okay,” he assured quietly. “He doesn’t matter. I don’t need him; I have you.”

She nodded, giving his hand a squeeze. “…In all seriousness, I was planning on ordering oysters.”

His eyebrow arched. “You hate oysters. They make you gag.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, obviously, you’d have to eat them, but I want a shell to take home to go with the one from our first date. It’s a memento that I treasure, so…” She smiled shyly, a cherry blossom blush leaking out from under her Princess mask.

“As my Princess wishes,” he replied with as much of a bow as the seating arrangements allowed.

 Chat settled the check as they leisurely finished their crème brûlée and he prattled on about the musical about Molière’s life that he had just seen with Nino and Luka.

All of the sudden, it dawned upon Chat that Marinette had been uncommonly quiet, nodding and making little sounds in all the right places to let him know that she was listening but not making any contribution to the conversation herself.

“Is everything all right, Princess?” He peered across the table at her in concern.

“Fine!” she hurriedly assured a little too loudly and then looked around to see if she’d disturbed any of the other diners. “Fine,” she repeated, voice lower. “I was just…”

His head tipped to the side. “Just…what?”

His eyes scanned her face, searching for the answer.

She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I love you.”

The worry faded from his face as he beamed. “I love you too.”

She reached across the table, interlacing her fingers with his. “I love you, and I can’t imagine ever feeling this way about anybody else.”

His eyes widened.

“You’re the one for me,” she stressed, gaze locked with his. “Even though I sometimes doubt whether I’m what’s best for you, I’ve never questioned how I felt about you. Even when things were messy, you’ve always felt right to me. I’ve never been uncertain about you. From day one, you being my partner felt natural. My head may not always have been in the right place, but my heart has never wavered.”

Chat nodded speechlessly, eyes tearing up as he let her words wash over him and tried to absorb them.

She squeezed his hand and then let go, moving to fish the ring box out of her purse as she stood.

Chat gasped, right hand moving to cover his mouth as he gawked at Marinette going down on one knee.

She smiled nervously. “I want us to be partners in everything for the rest of our lives…. Will you marry me?”

With a choked sob, he pulled her to her feet and swept her up into his arms, spinning her around as he pressed his lips to hers.

“Y-Yes,” he laughed as he pulled away, staring into her eyes in love and wonder and joy. “Yes, yes, yes! To be by your side is a dream come true.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” she chuckled, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Wanna head somewhere more private so I can give you your ring? I don’t want to take it out here because it’s kind of unique, and I’m afraid someone is going to get a picture of Chat Noir wearing it and expose your identity.”

“My place okay?” he suggested, and she nodded eagerly.

 Later that night as they cuddled in Adrien’s bed, Adrien couldn’t stop playing with his new ring. It was stainless steel with a black band in the center. On the band was an erratic line pattern reminiscent of a heartbeat on an EKG monitor.

He pulled it off his finger and admired the engravings around the inside of the band for the dozenth time.

Home. Love. Family. Forever.

“Explain the inscription again,” he begged like a child desperate to hear their favourite bedtime story one more time.

Marinette sighed, rolling over to nip his shoulder before patiently acquiescing. “‘Home’ because home is where the heart is. My heart is with you, so I’ll always be home by your side, and you’ll always have a home in me.”

He had to hold back tears yet again because her knowing that he needed that promise, that stability meant more to him than words could say. She knew without him ever having to tell her what he needed.

“‘Love’,” she continued, “because that’s what we have in many different forms. Love for one another as friends, as romantic partners, as teammates, as people.”

“And ‘family’?” he prompted.

“‘Family’ because it only takes two people to make a family,” she recited, pressing a kiss to his jaw just above his scar. “So long as you have me, you will always have a family…and, someday, it won’t just be the two of us. Together, we can build whatever kind of family we want.”

“What about ‘forever’?” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her torso more tightly.

“‘Forever’ because that’s how long I’m making these promises for. What we have is permanent. I will never abandon you. I will never stop loving you. I will always fight by your side, no matter what the battle, if it’s dealing with work stress or taking care of sick kids. We’re in this together.”

“Thank you,” he sniffled into her neck. “This…all of this…you really hit it out of the park, Marinette. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more loved and understood than I do right now.”

“Good,” she sighed into his hair. “I really wanted to get this right for you.”

“You shouldn’t doubt yourself,” he encouraged. “You know exactly what I need, and you always take care of me.”

“I’m glad you think so,” she chuckled.

“Hey, I’m the only one whose opinion counts when it comes to deciding whether my needs are being met.” He gave her collarbone a playful nip, making her laugh harder.

“Thank goodness. I would never give me a passing grade.”

“…Hey,” Adrien interjected softly once the laughter had faded into comfortable silence.

Marinette angled her head so that she could look down at him. “Hm?”

“I know we’re already engaged because you asked me to marry you, and I said yes, but…” He chewed nervously on his bottom lip. “Would it be okay if I proposed to you too? Maybe as Adrien and Marinette?”

She took his face in her hands and crushed her mouth to his.

“I would love that,” she assured.

[koishua]

𝙂𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙈𝙀 𝙏𝘼𝙂 !

tagged by: @luvvseong @yangyangify @spookybias @iuwon @floraljae (thank you, my loves <3)

tagging: @zhongwrld @moonbeamsung @rutosruru @lyjikyu @armysantiny @kopikokun @mochiable @envirae @channoticedmeuwu @radiorenjun @lebrookestore @whiteprincessofnohr + anyone who would like to do it!!

notes from vie: oml what the hell was this. honestly, this was so long, but i think it allowed me to reflect upon myself for a moment lmao.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮

october twenty eighth! on winwin day, nonetheless!

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩��𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧

i adore every single one smh. if it were palettes we were speaking about, then it would probably be greyish blue tones and beige to yellow ones!

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩❜𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧

my lucky number does not work, because my misfortune overpowers it way too much. i like the number eight, though!

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙨

i used to have pet baby cobras, fishes, yellow and blue budgies, and aquatic turtles!

𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪

i am aspiring to reach 170 cm, but i am currently 159-160 cm! that would be 5'2"?? i think.

𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚

a pair of combat boots, white canvas shoes, and one sneakers for sports class... not many lmao i am not a shoe gal.

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜

changes everyday. as i am typing, however, it would be lose it by oh wonder, rush hour by gaho and run by one republic!

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙚

i have three: rise of the guardians, room (2015), and... any studio ghibli movie tbh. whoops.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚

i say that i do not have a type all of the time, but all of the people i have been attracted to and had a crush on were the wild, fun, and cute guys in my class. they also tend to be very kind and understanding as well. i am a sucker for people who smile often.

they would have to be accepting of all of my flaws and love me regardless, just like the way i would do the same for them if i love them as well. i am also extremely touch deprived haha, so i would honestly be over the moon if they don't mind hugs and physical affection.

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙣

only after i have a stable income and have things sorted out, because i don't want to struggle raising them because of financial and mental issues. no kid deserves parents that can't take care of them ig.

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙬

the law from where i come from are terrible and something pretty bad has happened, but i'd rather that's kept in private haha. i swear i didn't commit any crimes lmao police are just incredible blind and unfair there.

𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧

shower. i am way too impatient for baths. also, i feel weird sitting in a tub filled water while naked lmfao it's so weird for me.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜

grey.

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘

k-r&b, indie, pop-rock hybrid ig, lo-fi.

𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝

only one below my head.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙞𝙣

it varies. i sleep like a rock even though i can’t sleep for long, so i wake up in the exact position i initially fall asleep in. either on my back or my right side, since my left side isn’t too good lmao.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣❜𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪❜𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜

buzzing mosquitos and damp, hot air (which is very rare, so i guess we are okay). i also hate being cold, so i sleep with two blankets even during summer haha. my limbs are ice-cold all the time smh

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙩

oats mixed with chocolate chunks.

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙮

i never went to a club or took lessons, but we had a backyard where my dad allowed me to shoot at stuff with a bow and the few arrows he made. i was pretty good at aiming, but my eyesight has deteriorated, so i left it at that lmao

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙩

watermelons and mangoes... also rambutan and mangis, but we don’t have them in germany ;-; i missed them.

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙

fuck. and i am sorry to say that i use it here quite a lot.

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙨

tons.

𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙧

some have called me a psychopath before, but they just don’t understand that i was raised by very strict parents and learned how to lie lmao. i am pretty ashamed to say yes.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩❜𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚

i have tested twice. once when i was fourteen, which showed that i was an infj-t, but then i took it again last year and it showed that i was an infp-t. i heard that 16Personalities was trash, though, so take it with a grain of salt.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩❜𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡

my best friend. she is a wild character, ngl, but she and i communicate extremely well. she is outgoing, courageous, hilarious, and has no qualms with being the odd one. she isn’t overly obnoxious, but she has a nice kind of self-confidence going on.

𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙚 𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙚

i love yang jeongIN. definitely an innie, because i don’t even remember what the front of my house looks like haha. i don’t go out unless someone literally grabs my arms and physically drags me out and i am not even joking with this one. 

𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙

i was originally right-handed, but then i got paranoid of breaking my right arm and having to study with my left arm all of a sudden and get bad grades, so i learned how to do stuff and write with my left hand as a kid.

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙙

don’t have one. call me when we’re talking about dessert.

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙙

don’t have one.

𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙮

my entire aesthetic is chaotic academia irl, so you tell me.

𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙝𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙚

oml, how tf, bahaha, bestie, no because-, hehe, lmao, i’m sobbing, i guess, toodles, etc etc.

𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮

i can techincally be ready in five, but procrastination is the sole thing i excel at, so yeah, definitely half an hour.

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛

cnversations happen in my head, my the office-esque reactions happen out loud. i talk a lot and imitate phrases i hear from someone to myself and reenact scenes from my daydreams bahaha

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛

i don’t shut up. someone save the people that live with me.

𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧

definitely not the most technically sound vocalist, but i can hold a tune or two. i was a soloist in my choir for a few years and was the vocalist for a band, but we disbanded smh i am still very sad about that :/ i loved them so much.

𝙗𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙧

seeing my loved ones die before me.

𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙥

i don’t feel comfortable talking bad about people :/ just ignore and move on.

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧

i have hair that reaches my knees, but dear god do i want to chop it all off in one motion and get a yeeun-style bob cut.

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙨𝙪𝙗𝙟𝙚𝙘𝙩

sports and art. to hell with everything else. i’m not bad at them at all, but oh gosh i want to burn them all.

𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙧 𝙚𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙩

... idk. i hate speaking to strangers and feel so awkward during one on one conversations with friends. i don’t go out a lot and social events tire me out, but i also crave noise happening around me. so,,, ambivert? i do tend to be the life of the party often during the few times i go out, but then i just lug myself back home and crash for the week lmao

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙨

anything related to school. i have regular panic attacks /gen. also, i have thalassaphobia and megalophobia, so things larger than life and the vast, empty ocean terrifies me and movies like that just make me nauseous. 

𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝

my first real crush this one guy in my band. he was the other vocalist and was so pretty and fun. he always used to tease me smh. at least, that was something. but then we had to disband last year, because the older guys were moving away to study and us high schoolers were also moving to different cities ;-;

𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙪𝙣

i was in my middle school track team and used to compete a lot since i was pretty agile, but then i started to hate running, stopped, and now i am just a little above average bahaha.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧

black. i want to dye it with cotton candy colored highlights, tho!

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙧𝙮

unnecessary comments, rude and obnoxious, self-entitled kids and people in general, people who tell you how to do your own job, hate comments, the basic dni criterias as well 

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚

kind of?

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙖 𝙗𝙤𝙮 𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙

i would want a girl.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝𝙨

i have cold hands if you want to cool down. i can adapt to any kind of environment instantly, since i have moved twelve different times to fifferent schools and countries. bless my parents. i have gained the ability to conquer shifts in social environments at the cost of my mental health :’) i also consider myself to be nice and can get things down quickly, so i am a fast learner.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨

kanemoto yoshinori, yoshi, eye smiles, and brownies. i am also very impatient, a perfectionist, a procrastinator, and have absolutely zero self-control over aggression against my own body. i have trouble reacting to other people's emotional outbursts, be it crying or anger and don't know what to do and how to comfort them. i also have trouble opening up and am never authentic around people, so i don't have... friends, if that makes sense? i don't feel comfortable being myself and feel like i have to be the person that they want me to be? idek.

i get bored extremely easily and nothing interests me that much ig

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩❜𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙙𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙

blue.

𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢

white and hints of blue.

[hookedonapirate]

Beyond a Reasonable Doubt

Summary: Detective Killian Jones took an indefinite leave of absence from SBPD after his brother was murdered in the Line of Duty. Bitter and broken, he resides in a cottage on the beach when his brother's former partner, David Nolan brings him a case he knows the vengeful detective won’t be able to resist. A case involving Liam's killer.  

Dr. Emma Swan makes all of her decisions like she operates on her patients—with care, competence and compassion. But when her colleague, Graham Humbert, is murdered in cold blood by the man who was freed because of a decision she made as a juror, she starts second-guessing herself. To make matters worse, her squeaky clean reputation is being questioned when she becomes a suspect for Graham’s murder.

There is one detective who believes she’s innocent, and he has a plan to protect Emma and find his brother's killer at the same time. When Killian finds himself caught between his duties to the SBPD and his need for vengeance, matters are only complicated by the feelings he develops for the woman he's supposed to protect.

He's impulsive and hot-tempered, and she's methodical and cool under pressure. Despite their differences, can they work together to bring the murderer to justice, or will the murderer get to them first?

A/N: Many thanks go to @ultraluckycatnd for her wonderful beta-ing skills and @onceuponaprincessworld as always for her encouragement and letting me bounce ideas off of her.

Rated: Explicit due to mature language, character death, violence, murder and smut. The scenes won’t be too graphic, but I’d rather overrate than underrate it.

Catch up: Pro I Ch 1

Chapter 2

Five days later...

  Her eyes sting painfully as she stares at the folded scrub cap printed with green shamrocks one last time before she places it on the metal casket that holds her colleague. She sets a red rose on top of the cap and steps back, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her hand before someone hands her a tissue.

  She turns to her head and smiles at an elderly lady who had earlier told her she’d been one of his patients. “Thank you.”

  Emma had retrieved the scrub cap when she’d gathered the strength to clean out his locker yesterday. She got it for him a few years ago as a gag gift at the hospital’s annual Christmas party. Knowing Graham's sense of humor fairly well, she had strategically chosen the one with green shamrocks because she knew he would get a kick out of it, rather than take offense. She was right, and not only did he get a good laugh, but he also claimed it as his lucky scrub cap. 

  Cleaning out his locker was one of the most difficult things she’s ever had to do, and that’s saying something since she'd performed many surgeries and occasionally has to deliver grievous news to the family of her patients. 

  Wiping her tears with the tissue, she catches a glimpse of the bootlace she’d unlaced from one of his boots and tied around her wrist. While most of the surgeons at the hospital wore clogs, he preferred boots because he said the operating room was a battlefield so he wanted to be prepared for the guts and gore that sometimes escaped during surgery. 

  Emma still can’t believe he’s gone. No more friendly sparring, no more friendly bickering about who’s the better surgeon, no more trying to mock his accent, but miserably failing. No more Graham Humbert. 

  His death was not only shocking but came way too soon. He was too young. Way too young. He was only thirty-eight. And on top of that, he was murdered in cold blood. Someone showed up to Storybrooke General, snuck past the security and drove a blade into Graham’s heart.

  The last time she saw him was the night he was murdered, when they were standing outside the bar, when he kissed her cheek. She had no idea when she said goodbye to him that night, she was saying goodbye to him for the last time.

  She returns to the hospital for her post-op patients after the funeral, relieved to replace her high heels for crocs, but unfortunately doesn’t have time to change out of her dress. She hates dressing up, and even though she wore a skirt every day in the courtroom, she couldn’t justify throwing on something casual, and instead wanted to put some effort into her attire for her friend, so she wore a dress to the funeral. 

  Emma is still reeling from his death, as is everyone who knew him. There was a large turnout at his funeral. He was well-liked and highly respected. And he was good at what he did. He wouldn't have been appointed Chief of Surgery if he weren't. After checking on her post-op patients, she briefs three others for their surgeries tomorrow morning. 

  The sky is pitch black when she finally leaves the hospital and strides across the parking lot to her car. She continuously peeks over her shoulder with an eerie feeling in the pit of her stomach. She glances over at the guard on duty, but it doesn't make her feel any more at ease considering a murder took place five days ago even though a different guard had been keeping a vigilant eye out. She’d heard he took some time off after he found Graham dead in the parking lot. The reminder of that horrible tragedy fills Emma with dread.

  After safely making it inside her car, she releases a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding.  She has crossed this parking lot hundreds, probably thousands of times and never once has she ever looked over her shoulder… until she found out Graham was murdered in this same parking lot. 

By the time she pulls into her garage that night, she’s bone-tired after a long, emotionally draining day. She’d performed her morning rounds and two surgeries before the funeral that thankfully went smoothly. She’s so glad she didn’t have to break any bad news to anyone today because that would’ve made the funeral much more difficult to handle. In hindsight, she probably should’ve moved each surgery to a future date, but she’d already rescheduled them once before because of the ten days she served as a juror and didn’t want to further inconvenience her patients. She knew Graham would have understood.

  Emma trudges through the kitchen door from the garage, scanning the mail she’d retrieved from her mailbox before she’d pulled into her driveway. She’s ready to crawl into bed after a long, dreary day—no, after the long, dreary few weeks she’s had—but first, she needs to wind down. She could definitely use a hot cup of cocoa. So as soon as she deposits her bag and mail on the table, she makes a cup of hot cocoa, but not from the powdered stuff. 

  She boils fresh ingredients on the stove and adds some milk to the pot before removing it from the heat and adding vanilla extract. She whisks the mixture until it’s frothy and pours the beverage into a mug, but she purposely doesn’t choose her World’s Best Surgeon mug she received from Graham on her thirty-eighth birthday. It’s her favorite mug, but it’s too soon. Maybe after the shock of his death wanes, she’ll be able to use it again without breaking down into tears, but right now she just can’t. She turns the mug around so the words are facing the back of the cabinet, and she grabs a mug with kittens printed on it instead. 

  After adding cinnamon and whipped cream, she grabs her phone from her purse, sipping her delicious beverage as she checks her notifications, one being a reminder for Anna and Kristoff’s wedding. It’s next Saturday evening, which is doable, but having to dress up is just one of the many reasons why she doesn’t enjoy going to weddings. 

  Everyone’s always ragging on her about never accepting invitations to social gatherings though, especially her cousins, Anna and Elsa. Despite living with the sisters for five years, she became estranged from them after she went off to college. Now she barely sees them at all because she’s always working. She’s missed so many Thanksgivings and Christmases, it would be odd to show up to one of their family gatherings now. But they’re right. She should get out more. 

  Hard work and no play, topped with the trial and her colleague’s death has pretty much drained all the life out of her, and she could use an escape. Actually, what she could use is some time on her ranch with her horses. Her home away from home is an hour outside of Storybrooke where Kristoff owns a neighboring ranch, and he and his fiance take care of Emma's horses when she’s in Storybrooke. That’s about the only interaction she has with Anna these days—when she calls to ask about her horses and the ranch. She hasn’t even told her cousins about the trial she was a juror on.

  Emma grumbles under her breath when she listens to a voice message from Detective Nolan who’d questioned her and everyone Graham worked with attending the celebration at the bar the night he was murdered. The detective got her number from the hospital, which she is not happy about. Now he wants to meet with her to discuss Graham’s murder, even after she told him everything she knows, so it’s a complete waste of his time. And hers.

  After finding no urgent messages or calls, she goes to her living room and looks up from her phone screen. Her heart leaps out of her chest and the air leaves her lungs so quickly, the mug falls from her hands, and the ceramic breaks into pieces when it crashes to the hardwood floor. She clutches the phone to her chest after almost dropping it as well. Normally she'd be quick to clean up the mess; she’d hate the idea of leaving her floor sticky for the housekeeper to clean up and have her shoes stained from hot chocolate as the dark brown liquid pools around her feet, but she’s too focused on what's on her coffee table to peel her eyes away.

  An enormous bouquet of long-stemmed red roses in a crystal glass vase.

  “What the fuck?”

  She’s frozen in place, her face draining of color. Not only is it a very rare occurrence for her to receive roses or romantic gifts of any kind, but someone has broken into her home to give them to her. Her heart is pounding as she scans the room. Nothing else in the living room is amiss, but the thought of someone breaking into her home makes her skin crawl. 

  She stares at the fifty roses for a long time, her mind reeling with how or why someone broke into her home to deliver the flowers. It’s not her birthday, and even if it were, no one else has a key to her home, except for her housekeeper. Perhaps Johanna was here when the roses were delivered and brought them in. Yes, that’s a perfectly reasonable explanation of how the roses ended up on her coffee table. 

  Except her housekeeper would have mentioned it to her or sent a text or something so Emma would not be freaked out like she is right now. And it still doesn’t explain the reason for the roses in the first place. The roses look expensive; the vase looks expensive. Someone went all out just to gain her attention, but who? And why? She’s currently single, very single , and hasn’t had so much as a one-night stand or a dalliance in a very long time. 

  Perhaps the roses are from a grateful patient? But no one except family and a few friends know her home address. If this were five days prior, she would've suspected Graham after he'd kissed her cheek. He's one of the few people who knew her address. But he never would've broken into her home to give them to her.

  After recovering from the initial shock, she’s able to move again, willing her feet to step forward and warily make the trek around her couch to the coffee table. There’s a silk red ribbon wrapped around the top of the vase, tied into a large, perfect bow. The sight of a blank, white envelope tucked into the foliage behind the bow catches her eye. 

  Hoping there’s a reasonable explanation for the roses and possible break-in, she reaches for the envelope, and with trembling hands—hands that have worked miracles and saved lives, hands that are normally steady under intense pressure—she removes a card from the envelope and reads the fancy calligraphy used on six typed words.

  I’ve got a crush on you.

  Goosebumps cover her skin and she shivers, almost dropping the card. 

  Who the hell would be sending her flowers and an anonymous note, declaring their affection for her? 

  She calls Johanna, desperately hoping the roses were delivered and that her housekeeper is the one who brought them into her home and not some psycho who broke in.

  “Hi, Johanna, sorry to call so late,” Emma mumbles through the phone, her voice shaking slightly. She’s normally cool under pressure, but the roses and card have certainly gotten under her skin, which she’s guessing was the intention behind the gifts.

  “It’s no problem. I haven’t made it to bed yet. What can I do for you?”

  “Did I receive a delivery while you were here today?”

  “No, ma’am. Were you expecting something?”

  Fuck.

  Then who the hell broke into her house? 

  “Um… yes,” she lies, not wanting to concern her housekeeper. “I was on the lookout for a small package I ordered a couple weeks ago.”

  “Did you track the package?”

  “Yes, it's due to arrive soon.”

  “Well, if it arrives while I’m here, I’ll be sure to bring it in and leave it on the kitchen table so you’ll see it when you come home.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate that.”

  “No problem. How are you doing? The funeral was today, wasn’t it?”

  Emma closes her eyes, breathing slowly, her heart cracking at the mention of Graham’s funeral. “Yes, it was. I’m doing okay, I suppose. It was all just very shocking.”

  “I can imagine. You shouldn’t stay at home alone after losing a friend, you know? You should stay with someone, at least for a few days.”

  Emma smiles faintly at her housekeeper’s concern. “I’ll be okay. Just need some sleep is all.”

  “Make sure you eat something first. You shouldn’t go to bed on an empty stomach. But I don’t have to tell you that, you’re the doctor,” she teases.

  “You know me too well, Johanna,” Emma remarks with a small laugh.

  “I’ve known you to miss a meal or two,” Johanna points out in a motherly tone. She’s not wrong. Working as much as she does, Emma tends to forget to eat.

  “I’m actually about to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich,” she lies again. Though toasted bread and gooey cheese in the middle does sound appealing, her stomach’s all twisted in knots. She’s too freaked out to even shove anything into her mouth right now.

  “Good, I’ll let you get to it then. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Emma.”

  “Thanks, you too.”

  Emma ends the call and stares at the note again for a good five minutes. Then she searches her house for any more unwanted gifts but finds nothing. She examines her front and back door and all the windows for any signs of forcible entry, but there are none. She even checks the closets, under her bed and in her bathtub to see if whoever broke in is still there; but even after she finds no one, she still has an uneasy feeling in her gut. Whoever broke in could very well do it again. 

  She briefly wonders if she should call the police, but what would she even tell them—someone broke into my house just to give me flowers and leave a note to tell me they have a crush on me? It sounds too ridiculous, they’d probably laugh in her face. Though the gifts and the fact that this person found out where she lives are probably grounds for having a stalker, it could also be a practical joke. But the only person she can think of who would pull such an awful prank on her is… well, he’s dead. 

  She disposes of the roses in the trash, but stores the vase in the cupboard and places the card in her nightstand drawer in case she needs to present the items as evidence for having a stalker on her hands. But she's not sure how helpful the items would be considering the words were typed and the card was unsigned with no name or any other indication of whom the flowers or card came from.

  Still on edge, Emma cleans the mess she'd made. Then she takes a shower, changes into her nightgown and slips into bed. But she highly doubts she’s getting any sleep tonight.

  ~*~

  “On the night Dr. Humbert was murdered, you were at the Rabbit Hole with him, correct?” 

  “Along with several other people there that night, yes,” Emma replies in a narked tone. She came here to the police station after her morning surgeries because Detective Nolan insisted on interviewing her even though he'd already questioned her after Graham's death.

  “Have you questioned them to this extent?” her lawyer, Mr. Hopper chimes in.

  “I’ve questioned them, yes,” Detective Nolan answers without confirming exactly who he questioned and to what extent. “Did you go to the Rabbit Hole alone?” 

  Emma nods. “That’s right.” 

  “I understand there was a celebration at the bar that night. What was the reason for the celebration?” 

  “We were celebrating Graham’s promotion to chief of surgery.” 

  “And how did you feel about his promotion?” 

  “I was happy for him,” Emma replies sincerely, though it's delivered in a flat, emotionless tone due to her lack of patience and because she's not happy about the insinuations of the question. 

  “Mhmm,” Detective Nolan hums before taking a sip of his coffee. “You were also under consideration for that position, weren’t you, Dr. Swan?” 

  “I was. And I deserved to get it.” 

  Mr. Nolan's brows climb his forehead, his eyes flashing with intrigue. “More than Dr. Humbert did?” 

  “In my opinion, yes,” she replies calmly. “He deserved the position as well, but I deserved it more.”

  Mr. Hopper raises a cautionary hand to stop her from continuing. “Dr. Swan, I highly—” 

  “I’m only telling the truth,” she states, cutting him off as she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at the detective. “But I’m sure you regard being denied a job promotion as a motive for murder, don’t you Detective Nolan?” 

  He looks her dead in the eye. “I don’t believe you killed anyone, Dr. Swan.” 

  “Then why did you request this interview?” 

  “Because you failed to mention the promotion when I first questioned you.”

  “It was irrelevant.”

  “Maybe so, but it doesn't hurt to go over anything I might have missed the first time around. You also failed to tell me you left with Dr. Humbert that night. Is that true?”

  “I didn’t leave with him,” she states defensively. “He walked me to my car and then went back inside.”

  “And that was it? He only walked you to your car? Were there any words exchanged?”

  “I congratulated him and we hugged,” Emma tells him. She doesn’t deem it necessary to mention the kiss on the cheek, but in case someone had witnessed the kiss, she doesn’t want the detective to think she’s withholding any other information. “He also kissed me on the cheek and we said goodnight. Then I got in my car, watched him walk into the bar and drove away.”

  “Was there anything romantic going on between you and Dr. Humbert, casual or otherwise?”

  She shakes her head. “No, there was not. We were friends who’ve known each other since we were residents, that was it.”

  He nods, seeming to accept her answer and moves on to the next question. “Did you go home immediately after you left?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there anyone to corroborate that?”

  “No.”

  “Did you go anywhere else that evening?”

  “No, I had to work the next morning, so I went straight to bed. And no, no one can corroborate that either.”

  The detective throws her a few more questions before bringing up the trial she served as a juror on, which infuriates her because the trial had nothing to do with Graham’s murder. 

  “Yes, I served on the jury that acquitted Mr. Gold.”

  “And were you or were you not the forewoman?”

  “I was,” she replies with a tight smile. “But you already knew that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have asked.”

  He nods. “That’s correct. I’ve already interviewed the other eleven jurors.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I believe Dr. Humbert’s killer was hired. He wasn’t robbed, and he has no known adversaries… other than you, Dr. Swan.”

  His remark rattles her, not only because the detective is accusing her of being Graham’s adversary or because of the implications his statement carries, but because he believes someone was hired to murder Graham. 

  She explains she made a decision after exploring every facet of the case. The evidence was entirely circumstantial, the defendant could not be placed at the scene of the crime and he had an alibi. She also has to elucidate to Detective Nolan she doesn’t believe the defendant was innocent, only that she was not convinced he was guilty. And yes, she had persuaded the other eleven jurors to vote for the acquittal, but after two days of deliberation, each juror voted according to his or her own conscience.

  After everyone in the interrogation room agrees there is nothing further to ask, Emma heads back to the hospital, still reeling from what David had said about Graham’s murder being a contract kill.

  Her mind drifts to the roses and the card she’d received the night prior. She thinks about how the defendant—an accused contract killer—kept staring at her in the courtroom. It was creepy, disturbing, just as breaking into her home to leave roses and a note that says, I’ve got a crush on you was creepy and disturbing.

  Could Neal Gold be the one who broke in and left the roses and card? 

  The thought makes Emma physically ill. 

  Once Emma returns to the hospital, she trades in her red blazer for a white lab coat and checks on her post-op patients. Tired of wearing skirts and dresses, she put on her red, two-piece suit of amour for her interview that morning.

  She's called on to perform three emergency procedures, which include treating an intestinal obstruction, a strangulated hernia and a perforated ulcer. Immediately following each procedure, she speaks with the patient’s loved ones to report on the condition of the patient and to explain the procedure she’d done. She makes notations in the charts of her post-op patients.

  When she’s done, she returns the charts to Tamara, the nurse on duty. “Please page me if any of these patients take a downward turn.”

  “Certainly, Dr. Swan,” she says with a smile. “So, has the board made you Chief yet?”

  The question takes Emma off guard. The last thing on her mind is a promotion. “Um… no, but even if they offered me the position, I couldn’t possibly take it. It would just feel wrong to benefit from Dr. Humbert’s death.”

  Tamara nods. “That’s very noble of you. But even so, I hope you get it, Dr. Swan. You deserve it.”

  Emma is stunned by Tamara’s words. She had no idea the nurse had thought so highly of her. “Thank you,” she says with a tired smile. “Have a good night.”

  “You too.”

  Emma turns around and heads for the elevator. As she leaves the building, the buzz from her phone breaks through the ominous silence of the night. She grabs the device from her purse, seeing it’s from a restricted number. Reluctantly she answers the phone, bringing it to her ear with furrowed brows. “Hello?”

  There’s silence on the other end as Emma makes her way across the parking lot, but then she can hear someone breathing heavily into the phone.

  “Hi, Emma.”

  She halts in her tracks, wild-eyed at the whispered voice on the other line. “Who is this?”

  “Oh, come now, Ems, don't you recognize my voice?” he says, as though they’re best friends. “We spent almost two weeks in the same room together.”

  Emma sucks in a sharp breath and frantically searches the parking lot for any signs of him, heart pounding in her ear. Spotting her car several feet ahead, she bolts for it while trying not to draw too much attention from the guard. When she gets in her car and locks the doors, she manages a faint whisper. “Gold?” 

  He chuckles. “So, you do remember me? I knew you would.”

  Of course she does. She’d recognized his voice immediately but was desperately hoping it wasn’t true. The way his dark eyes connected with hers in court made her skin crawl. How could anyone forget him? 

  “And baby doll, please, call me Neal.” 

  Emma cringes and her stomach turns. “How did you get my number?”

  “Let’s just say I have connections. Did you like the roses?”

  Her heart skips several beats, then restarts, pounding double-time. Now that she knows the roses were from him, she wants to pretend she doesn't know what he's talking about, but since he had placed them inside her house, there’s no way she hadn’t seen them. “How the hell did you get into my house?”

  Gold laughs, this time more loudly, more sinister-like. “Please, Ems, getting into your house was child’s play to me.”

  “And why’s that?” she challenges, even knowing he won’t take the bait. He’s incredibly clever and resourceful, otherwise he couldn’t have escaped prosecution for all his misdeeds, including the most recent murder he’d been tried for. 

  “I thought you’d like red roses, baby doll, since you wore red lipstick every day of the trial,” he comments, completely evading her question. “I like your red suit by the way, the color compliments your complexion.”

  Emma clenches her jaw, and her fingers grip around the steering wheel so tightly, her knuckles turn white. She scans the parking lot from her car. Not only did he break into her house but he's following her too? What the actual fuck. “Stop calling me baby doll. Or Ems. In fact, stop calling me at all. I’m hanging up now, Mr. Gold.”

  “Wait, please don’t. I only wanted to thank you,” he says in a gentle voice, bordering on sweet, but she won’t go so far to admit that.

  “Thank me? For what?” she demands, growing agitated. No, she’s beyond agitated. Ever since this fucker showed up in her life, her world has been in complete disarray, from the trial to Graham's murder to the unwanted gifts to the scrutiny from the police department and now this.

  “I wanted to thank you for saving my life.”

  “I didn’t save your life,” Emma snaps.

  “Oh, you did, baby doll. If it weren’t for you, I’d be on death row.”

  “I did nothing. A jury of twelve made the verdict,” she clarifies. It feels like she’s had to clarify that a lot lately.

  “Maybe so, but one of your fellow jurors said you led the campaign for my acquittal. She said you argued for my side and that your arguments were inspired and… passionate,” he says as though he’s speaking to a lover. “You have no idea how badly I want to touch you… thank you properly.”

  Emma’s pretty sure she’s going to vomit all over her front seats. “In your dreams, you creep. Now fuck off.” She ends the call and throws her phone into the passenger seat like it had burned her. 

  She squirms and flails her arms as though large, disgusting rats are crawling all over her, and she gags. She wants to go home as quickly as possible so she can strip off her clothes and burn them. She feels sick, beads of sweat dotting her forehead, heart pounding erratically as she starts her car and takes a deep breath like she’s preparing for an intricate, life-threatening surgery. 

  Now she’s glad she didn’t report the break-in to the police because if they find out Neal is her secret admirer, it might raise red flags; it might be just another reason for the detectives to point a finger at her for the involvement of Graham’s murder. 

  Oh god.

  Something occurs to her, hitting her like a brick. Gold said one of the jurors told him how passionately Emma argued his side. Which means she probably told Nolan the same thing when he interviewed her.

  Even though Archie had tried to assure her the detective’s insinuations and persistence were standard police tactics, there are two questions that have been gnawing at her since the interview, other than whether or not it was Gold who broke into her house. Questions that make her skin crawl.

  Does Detective Nolan actually consider her a suspect? And does he think she hired Gold to murder Graham Humbert?

A/N: For those of you who are wondering when Killian will appear, he's introduced in the next chapter, so sit tight. I will be posting chapter 3 next week. Thanks for reading!

Take a peek at the next chapter: Chapter 3 Sneak Peek

Tagging some people who have shown interest so far. If you would like to be tagged or untagged, please let me know.

@itsfabianadocarmo​ @snowbellewells​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @nikkiemms @teamhook @xhookswenchx @nikkiemms @xsajx @julesep3026 @hookedmom @biefaless @cluttermind @yasbio2015 @kmomof4 @lfh1226-linda @harshini01 @noensnaringnet @xarandomdreamx @onceuponaprincessworld @annastasiarinaldiva @royalswan @brustudyblog @officerrogers @gingerchangeling @melly326 @singersdd @mzbossyboots @unworried-corsair @iamemmaswanjones @authorarsinoe @kingofmyheart14 @nightskylover @jamif @resident-of-storybrooke @iam2307 @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @chinawoodfan @mormonkryptonite @ultraluckycatnd @captainswan-shipper88 @killianswanjones @bethdacattfm @andiirivera

[jarmes]

Beating Pokemon Sapphire with (almost) no damaging moves

Last year, I decided to beat Pokemon Leafgreen without using any damaging moves. It was hard, but doable. A few weeks back, I decided to try and find out if you can beat Pokemon Sapphire under the same ruleset. The answer is no. You can’t. It is physically impossible. Let me explain why.

I started the game up, fast-forwarded through the introduction, and chose Mudkip as my starter. Unlike Leafgreen, which features Bulbasaur, one of the best stall Pokemon in Gen 3, all of the starters in Hoenn are terrible for this run, lacking any real way to stall. I went with Mudkip because it’s the most defensive. Tackle is a damaging move, so Mudkip is unable to use anything but Growl. Fortunately, the Poohcheyana is programmed to run away before it beats you.

I named Mudkip GarbageBoyStinkman (technically GBSM because of character limits) and traveled to Route 103 to meet with May. Having no way to deal damage, I ran from all wild Pokemon along the way. Unfortunately, this is the point the run becomes unwinnable.

You cannot beat May without dealing damage. It cannot be done. None of the starters have any moves that can take out opponents through status moves. Now, you may be thinking, what if I caught another Pokemon on the route? Well, you can’t. You can’t buy Pokeballs until after you beat May. And you can’t trade because you only have one Pokemon. We can’t beat May because her Torchic takes us out in a few hits, and we can’t level up before May because all of the wild Pokemon around do the same. So, the run is over. Game over.

Hence the “almost” in the title. Because May is impossible, we’ll try to beat the game without attacking anyone else. It takes four tackles to take out her Torchic. Technically, because criticals do double damage, two criticals could take May out in two hits, setting our minimum attacking moves at two. Getting two crits in a row only happens one percent of the time, but it is possible. I opted for four hits because the battle was already a wash and moved on.

Birch gives us five Pokeballs and we finally have a little breathing room. Our best strategy, for now, is going to be stalling until enemy Pokemon struggle themselves to death. Mudkip lacks the bulk needed to take a few dozen hits and would end up struggling before the opponent, so I need to get some reinforcements. I caught five Zigzagoon: Chocolate, Caramel, Taffy, Lolly, and Liquorice. Full party in hand, I marched to Route 102 and ran into Youngster Calvin, a six-year-old with a single level five Zigzagoon.

Calvin is the hardest trainer that I’ve ever beaten in any challenge run. Calvin is so insanely difficult that he made me question if the run is actually possible.

At level five, Calvin’s Zigzagoon knows three moves: Tackle, Tail Whip, and Growl. Combined, these two moves have 75 PP, meaning I need to stall for 105 turns before the Zigzagoon will struggle. Growl and Tail Whip are fine, but Tackle deals damage, and my team needs to shrug off 35 of them, plus however many struggles it will take for the Zigzagoon to knock itself out.

Even when my team has used Growl six times and Calvin has avoided all uses of Tail Whip, Calvin’s Zigzagoon can take a member of the Candy Squad out in five hits and GBSM out in six. Now, looking at those numbers, it seems that Zigzagoon should just barely be beatable. Unfortunately, it isn’t. Cal’s Zigzagoon is able to take out the first two of its brothers before they minimize its attack and tail Whip lowers the number of hits we can take. Plus, Struggle does just as much damage as Tackle but only does half as much in recoil, meaning that, if my math is right, it’ll take ten struggles for it to die, meaning that even in the absolute best circumstances, we’d need to survive 45 hits when we only have enough HP to take 36.

Now, there are a few random factors that make me think this battle may be technically possible at this point. Zigzagoon chooses its moves at random, meaning that it could in theory save all of its Tail Whips until after wasting its Tackles. And, as previously mentioned, Tackle can miss, which gives us a free hit to survive. But, at the same time, Zigzagoon can get criticals which effectively doom us. After two more tries, I decided that this battle wasn’t winnable, at least not yet.

So, we can’t beat a level five Zigzagoon. But, the question is, can we beat a level two Wurmple? Because if we can beat some wild Pokemon on Route 201, we can get some EXP and become strong enough to beat Youngster Calvin. Unfortunately, my team right now is just barely too weak to survive a single battle.

Fortunately, I bought a couple of potions. If I use a potion right before the Wurmple can take out Mudkip, I can just barely survive. Now, I only had a few potions, but I wasn’t too worried. After each battle, Zigzagoon has a 10% chance to give a random item after battle, including Super Potions, Rare Candies, and things like Nuggets and Full Restores that I can sell for money. With five Zigzagoon, I had a ~40% chance of getting an item after each battle I won.

But, luck wasn’t on my side. By the time Mudkip reached level eight, I was completely out of items. And Mudkip still wasn’t tough enough to survive a battle without a potion. Game over.

So I completely restarted. This time, I was smarter with my Pokeballs. Instead of throwing them willy nilly and having to buy ten more after running out, I saved and reset until I caught five Zigzagoon using the five balls Birch gave me. I also avoided Calvin until I was ready for him, because losing to him wasted money. The extra money this run gave me was enough to start my grind with ten potions instead of three. Also, I made sure that all of the Zigzagoon I caught were level three this time, hoping that the one extra HP would help. I made a save state and started grinding.

I also switched to hunting Poochyena instead of hunting Wurmple. They deal the same damage at level two and don’t know string shot, which made things go quicker. After my first Poochyena defeat, one of the Zigzagoon picked up a Full Restore, which I was able to sell for five extra potions.

Finally, after hours of grinding, Mudkip hit level ten and was able to survive a battle without a potion. I was ready. I marched up to Calvin and stalled. The battle came down to the wire, with Mudkip being the only team member standing when Calvin started struggling.

And then I ran out of Growls. I could not switch out, I could not attack. I was at full health from the last potion, so I could not use another. Calvin was struggling and I was without any means to beat him. Fortunately, one of the Zigzagoon picked up a Revive while I was grinding and I was able to use it to revive a Zigzagoon and switch to it. Still, I came dangerously close to losing.

After Calvin was defeated, I knew the run was possible. There were half a dozen trainers between me and Petalburg Woods, but fortunately, all of them could be avoided. Petalburg Woods contains two things that were useful for me: Cascoon and Silcoon, who only know Harden and can be trained on easily, and Shroomish, the first member of my actual team.

I caught the Shroomish with an Ultra Ball one of the Zigs picked up and named it Plus Ultra. Shroomish didn’t have any status moves yet, but it did have the ability Effect Spore, which could in theory be used to poison opponents. Effect Spore was too unreliable to rely on, though. I trained Shroomish up to level ten, where she learned Leech Seed. Finally, I had a consistent, controllable means to deal damage. Leech Seed drains one-eighth of the target’s health each turn, giving me a way to slowly whittle down opponents. It doesn’t work on grass types, and it’s slow, but it works well enough for now.

I stormed my way through the early game, beating Roxanne without issue. In Dewford Cave I got the TM for Flash and taught it to Shroomish. Flash is actually a decent stall move; the lowered accuracy does wonders to help Plus Ultra survive while waiting for Leech Seed to kill. I also grabbed the Everstone and gave it to Shroomish to keep her from evolving. Brawly was tough. His Pokemon hit hard, especially after a few Bulk Ups. I managed to get lucky and beat him on my second attempt. All of what I’ve said so far happened in a single six-hour play session, by the way. After beating Brawly, I saved the game and went to bed.

I booted up the game the next day and, for some odd reason I was back in Odale town. That’s weird. Also, I didn’t have any badges. And I didn’t have Shroomish. And all of my Pokemon were as weak as they were before the grind. That’s really weird.

I’m sure I saved after Brawly, but for some reason, it didn’t go through. I reverted to my last save before that. So, naturally, I did the only sane thing: redid everything until I got back to Brawly. It was...fun.

I went through Slateport without much issue; I ran out of Leech Seed PP against a Marill in the Seashore House and had to struggle it out, but that only took an eternity. North of Slateport I caught a new team member: Tex Mex the Gulpin. Gulpin had a decent bulk and comes with Poison Gas and Yawn, giving me a second way to take out opponents and a way to deal with Grass types.

I ran into a trainer with a Roselia on Route 110 and was reminded that Grass/Poison Pokemon are nightmares. Fortunately, I was able to walk around her. I mean, in theory, I could either take a Roselia out with a Zubat that knows Supersonic, by struggling it out, or getting it to kill itself by using Mega Drain on Gulpin because of her Liquid Ooze ability, but none of those plans are worth the effort.

May was, like before, annoying. I took out her Wailmer and Numel easily enough, but her Grovile took out Gulpin with Quick Attack. Fortunately, it poisoned itself thanks to Effect Spore. I made my way to Mauville, grabbed the Mach Bike, and made my way to the Day Care. I abused the Day Care to get both of my main team members up to Level 28. Gulpin evolved into Swalot and gained the new, fantastic moveset of Toxic/Poison Powder/Encore/Amnesia.

Leech Seed and Poison Powder both kill in eight turns. Toxic kills in five, making it our new method of taking things out. Also, I kept Poison Powder because it has a lot of PP making it a good move to waste time with.

I also evolved Mudkip, hoping the new Ground typing would help me beat Wattson. I ended up not needing it, because Shroomish and Swalot took him out with ease. I kept moving through the game until I reached a roadblock on Route 112. An unavoidable trainer with a Roselia. Fortunately, I had a plan.

In the Fiery Path, you can find wild Slugma. Slugma has the ability Flame Body, which has the ability to burn your opponent if they hit you with a contact move. The roadblock Roselia knows Poison Sting, which is a physical move. So I caught a Slugma and named it Sheers. Unfortunately, it has Magma Armor instead of Flame Body. So I caught a second one and named it Sheerz. It also had Magma Armor. The third Slugma, Shers, did have Flame Body. I took it to the Roselia, let it get pounded by Poison Sting, and...it fainted. Turns out Poison Sting doesn’t do contact.

So anyway I released the three Slugma and struggled out the Roselia. On Route 113 I caught a new team member: Punji the Skarmory. Skarmory is a famously bulky Pokemon, with great defensive stats, fantastic typing, and access to the interesting combination of Spikes and Whirlwind. Unfortunately, it doesn’t learn Spikes until level 42. And I caught it at level 16. So, he’s going to be wearing the EXP share and working as a tank for a while.

I stormed through the game until reaching Lavaridge. Lavaridge features cheap herbal medicine, which I used constantly throughout this run. Flannery’s fire Pokemon were a nightmare for Shroomish and Skarmory, but Swalot saved the day, using Amnesia to boost her Special Defence and tank Torkoal’s Overheat. After Flannery, I ran to the desert and grabbed the Sandstorm TM, which I taught to Skarmory to give him a way to deal damage. Sandstorm kills in sixteen turns, which isn’t great, but it does give us a way to take out Roselia. I also caught a Baltoy. I named it Tick because the first two I tried to catch Self Destructed. Baltoy doesn’t learn any status moves until 31, so I taught it Flash and kept it on the bench for a while.

Norman was tough. Poisoning his Pokemon allows them to decimate me with Facade, so I was forced to rely on Leech Seed for damage. Even then, he was able to use Focus Punch flinching, making the battle brutal. Fortunately, Truancy gave me time to heal my team and Norman eventually went down.

I ignored Wattson’s pleas for help and made my way to Fortree City. Along the way, I picked up an Absol I named Obama. His only good move at that point was Taunt, meaning that I had another near useless Pokemon to babysit. Wiona was tough, but Skarmory’s bulk and Swalot’s toxic helped me survive. I had my new Absol Taunt her Altaria to keep her from spamming Dragon Dance. Her Skarmory ended up being the most frustrating one to take out, because it kept killing Shroomish before I could get a Leech Seed off.

After Wiona, Baltoy learned Sandstorm and I taught it Reflect and Light Screen via TM, giving it a use. I caught a Duskull and named her M87. She started with Confuse Ray and Disable, making her a good Pokemon to shut down opponents while waiting for Toxic to kill them. Tate and Liza hit hard, but they only had two Pokemon, both of which Swalot was able to Toxic before going down. At the end of the battle, only Duskull and Baltoy were still standing, but the twins were down. I saved the game and ended another lengthy play session.

And I ended up back at Norman. It was at that point that I learned a fun quirk of my emulator. If you make a Save State, then play for a few hours, then make a battery save, it deletes the battery save and instead opens the save state next time. This also explains the weird issue with me ending up back at Odale Town.

This time, I didn’t have the patience to go through the game fighting trainers. Instead, I snuck past trainers until I caught Absol and Duskull again then abused the Daycare to get all of them up to level 42. This left the team without EVs, but I considered it a good sacrifice for not having to sit through dozens of slow battles.

After my Day Care abuse, I had a few new toys to play with. Duskull evolved into Dusclops, learning Will-O-Wisp and Curse along the way. Baltoy learned Cosmic Power and evolved into Claydol. Finally, Skarmory learned Spikes which, when combined with the Roar TM, gave him a reliable damage method. I also taught Obama Protect from a TM. I stomped the rematches against Wiona and the twins and made my way to the undersea cave.

The Undersea Cave was annoying, both because I had to leave Claydol and Absol behind for HM requirements and because the grunts kept using Taunt. Archie revived Kyogre and I went to Sootopolis to defeat it. Kyogre, the monstrous God of the sea, went down in four turns thanks to Dusclops’s Curse.

Wallace’s Milotic’s spamming of Recover was annoying, but I taunted it and stalled it out. With my eight gym badges, I was able to take on Victory Road. But I wasn’t ready, not quite. The late game battles had been getting harder and harder, so I decided to do a bit of prep work. I fought one hundred different Marill to give my team some HP EVs. I was going to do the same with Cascoon/Silcoon, but decided that I value my own time too much. I grabbed the Focus Band from Meteor Falls. I also made my way through the Ruined Ship because I remembered that the Leftovers were located in a trash can; they aren’t, they’re on the boat that you unlock by beating the Elite Four. Finally, I went back and fought some of the trainers I skipped so I could get money for healing items. My prep work done, I marched through Victory Road.

The trainers were tough, but beatable. I did have to keep leaving to heal my team at the Pokecenter, which was annoying. Waiting at the end of Victory Road was Wally. He sent out his Roselia, that devil, and I took it out with Dusclops’s Curse. I did some quick grinding before the Elite Four and Absol learned the move I caught it for: Perish Song. Perish Song essentially allows me to automatically win if I can get an opponent down to a single Pokemon. Going into the Elite Four, this was my team:

Plus Ultra (Shroomish)

Leech Seed/Flash/Stun Spore/Toxic

Tex Mex (Swalot)

Toxic/Amnesia/Protect/Attract

Punji (Skarmory)

Spikes/Sandstorm/Roar/Sand-Attack

Tick (Claydol)

Sandstorm/Cosmic Power/Reflect/Light Screen

M87 (Dusclops)

Will-O-Wisp/Confuse Ray/Disable/Curse

Obama (Absol)

Perish Song/Double Team/Taunt/Protect

I started out my battle with Sidney with some Spike/Roar comboing from Skarmory. After Skarmory went down, I switched to Swalot and took out a few Pokemon with Toxic. His last Pokemon, his Absol, went down to my Absol’s new Perish Song.

Phoebe’s team of Ghosts abused status moves, forcing me to keep switching out Pokemon. None of the team was knocked out, but the whole team had to step in to get rid of Phoebe.

Glacia was a challenge. Her super effective Ice Beams and Shadow Balls cut through my team. Worse, she managed to freeze Swalot twice. Her Walrein hit like a truck and would have taken out the entire team without Perish Song. At the end of the battle, all I had left was a red health Absol.

My plan for Drake was to have Swalot use Toxic then switch to Claydol. Unfortunately, I was out of Toxic when the battle started. Shroomish managed to take out Shieldon, but was one-shotted by Drake’s Flygon. I sent out Dusclops to use Will-O-Wisp, which missed three times in a row. Dusclops went down to a super effective Crunch, but I revived it and took out both Flygon and the Salamence with Curses and heal item spam. Altaria went down to a Perish Song, opening up the Champion battle, but I knew I was far from ready.

I used my Rare Candies I’d collected over the run, thanks to my Zigzagoon, to get a few last minute levels in. Shroomish finally learned Spore. I took off the Everstone and my boy finally evolved into Breloom. Would it have been easier to just forget about Spore and evolve at 23, as opposed to carrying around a near useless Shroomish for half the run? Yeah, probably. But whatever, I wanted the cool 100% sleep chance.

So, how did my fight with Steven go? Well, I recorded it and uploaded it here.

By the ingame timer, this run took 72 hours. But, I used superspeed. In reality, it only took 17 hours, mostly done during college lectures. I enjoyed this run, it was a fun challenge. I’ve already started on another run, this time in a much more difficult Pokemon game, so look forward to that. Thanks for reading.

[fleckcmscott]

Watch What Happens - Chapter 9

Chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Summary: Arthur, an aspiring comedian, has struggled to find normalcy and compassion his entire life. Y/N, a hard-working paralegal and transplant to Gotham, has just been put on a case for the Wayne Foundation. When they meet, unexpected sparks fly.

Chapter warning: Swearing, Angst

Words: 3,977

"Ms. McPhee, thank you for the tea and cookies," Y/N said, putting her mug on the small coffee table between them. "They were delicious. But keep the box of tea cakes I brought, all right?"

In the dark green overstuffed chair across from her, Ms. McPhee gave her a warm look. "They were no problem. It's nice to have company." She hesitated before speaking again. "Do you think you'll be able to help?"

Y/N reached to pet the cat lying next to her on the worn, gray sofa, searching for an answer. Getting the woman’s hopes up would be unkind. But with all the hours Y/N was working, and what she believed she was finding, she was stubborn enough to try. "I don't know what the outcome will be," she started. A soft smile crossed her face in an attempt to encourage the older woman. "But I'll do everything I can. How long did you and your husband live her?"

Ms. McPhee crossed her ankles as she rocked her chair. "Let me see."

While Ms. McPhee pondered, Y/N's eyes surveyed the apartment. It was tiny, and the living room had an open, cream color kitchenette on the end. A mini-fridge was under the short counter. There was an old oven, but the stovetop must not have functioned, because a hot plate sat on it. Half the cabinets were missing knobs, and the drawers no longer fit in their slots correctly. There wasn't room for a table; a folded TV dinner tray was leaned against the wall. Y/N exhaled sharply. This woman had so little - and here she was, having to fight to keep it.

"We moved here in 1942," Ms. McPhee continued, breaking Y/N's train of thought. "After Phil got hurt at Ace."

"Ace Chemicals? What happened?"

"Industrial accident. He had burns on over seventy percent of his body." Ms. McPhee took another sip of tea. "There was no way for him to keep working. And social security didn’t exist yet. Back then it was harder for women to get a job. I was a secretary for a little while, then an operator. But we still struggled, especially with our daughter on the way." Gesturing towards the ceiling, she continued. "This place was a godsend. Most landlords didn't accept housing vouchers. We were lucky."

Y/N wasn’t sure that was the word she would have used. Luck would have been not having an industrial accident in the first place. Or at least having had to struggle less when misfortune had knocked them down. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but admire Ms. McPhee’s resilience.

“You’ve been through a lot.” Gently, Y/N asked, "When did he pass away?"

"Four years ago. Heart attack." Ms. McPhee's lips pursed. "We went through a lot together. I know it's not much, but I don't want to leave. It was difficult but we built a life here."

That Y/N understood. Her parents had lived in the same house for almost fifty years, and had, as they had continuously reminded her, "held onto it during the depression, so don't take it for granted." And, before he'd completely lost himself, the home's familiar walls, carpets, and furniture had soothed her father. If some faceless corporation had tried to push them out, he would have raised hell.

Blinking the memory away, Y/N grabbed another chocolate chip cookie. "You mentioned earlier that people had come by to talk to you. Did they give you any sort of card?"

 "They were so neatly dressed, I thought they were Mormons." They both laughed at that, Y/N coughing softly on a crumb. "But when I opened the door, they just had questions about my apartment," Ms. McPhee said. “I asked for ID, but they just gave me a Renew Corp. card. Then the letters started coming."

"And how long ago was that?"

"About eight months."

Digging into her canvas bag, Y/N found a pen and paper. She took the cap off her pen with her mouth and started writing as she spoke. "Eight months..." When she got back to the office tomorrow, she'd have to check the dates the Wayne Foundation started filing with the court. She felt Ms. McPhee's eyes on her. "Don't worry," Y/N said. "I'm not writing your name down."

Ms. McPhee chuckled. "I'm not worried, dear. I'm too old for that.” She leaned towards Y/N, then, as if she was spilling a secret. “I think those men wanted to scare me. But they just made me mad. Use my name however you want."

Y/N couldn't stop the corner of her mouth from turning up. "I admire your spunk, Ms. McPhee. You're a tough old bird. That's a compliment."

"Well, then, I'll take it as one."

Y/N stretched her arms and leaned forward. "Do you have anymore of those letters, like the one you gave me when we first spoke?"

Nodding, Ms. McPhee stood and left the room. Rising from the couch, Y/N perused the photos on the opposite wall, hanging over the small TV set. She recognized Ms. McPhee, with whom she assumed was her husband. Pictures of Thanksgivings and Christmases with undersized turkeys and tiny trees. Seeing the memories this one family had created in this undersized apartment, knowing how many more people were in this exact same situation, made her more determined to find out what the hell was going on and who was behind it.

Ms. McPhee came back, holding two shoe boxes. "Here. You can have them both."

Taking them from her, Y/N lifted the lid of one and carded through the red envelopes. There must have been close to fifty. "You got all these?" she asked, trying to hide her slight alarm.

"Some are from neighbors. You wouldn't know it, looking at me, but I can be persuasive."

Y/N snorted, remembering their first encounter. "These are very helpful. Thank you. I'll keep in touch, all right?"

Ms. McPhee nodded gratefully.

"Now," Y/N said, closing the box. "Can you tell me where Anderson Avenue is?" She pondered on to say next. Was Arthur her boyfriend? They hadn’t discussed it. But she thought it would seem odd not to know where her boyfriend lived. "I want to visit a friend before I head home."

"What's the address?"

"225a."

Ms. McPhee pointed as she gave directions. "It’s close. When you leave here, go right, then take another right at the corner."

"Thank you," Y/N said.

Passing her, Ms. McPhee opened a kitchen cabinet. "Let me get a bag. You can take some cookies with you."

~~~~~

Stretching her shoulders, Y/N hastened up the sidewalk. The shoe boxes were tucked safely in her bag, making it cumbersome to carry. It felt funny, knowing she'd have to keep evidence, at her apartment. But that was the only way she'd know it was secure. If Matt found the letters, she didn't think he'd kick her out on her ass. There was a good chance he'd shred them, though. That was too big of a risk. Tomorrow, she'd have to invite Patricia over to talk about the bullshit she'd found and, hopefully, enlist her help.

As she approached the courtyard of Arthur’s building, she ran her hand through her hair, then smoothed her pencil skirt with her palm. She wondered if he appreciated pop-ins. It was early Sunday evening and most places were closed, so it seemed unlikely he’d be out. Maybe she was being too impulsive. But it had been nearly two days since she'd seen him. It felt like two weeks. They'd had their nightly phone call, but it wasn’t enough.

After their dinner, she hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind. For most of the evening, he’d seemed comfortable, needing reassurance only once or twice. The conversation had been enjoyable, even when it got heavy (though he still didn’t talk much about himself), and his company a warm presence. She loved how he'd tenderly held her as they'd danced, with her trying not to step on his feet. And the way his hesitancy had temporarily fallen away when he’d kissed her with what felt like his whole body.

If she was honest, she’d been forcing herself to see him less than she wanted to. Having him around her everyday would have been too much for her to think clearly. And clarity was what she needed. She didn’t want to rush into a fling that would flame out in a week. Their connection had become too important for that.

He’d worked his way into her heart so quickly, faster than she could have predicted. When she was at the office, a sarcastic remark or joke brought him to mind. She would recall the feel of his lips on hers at random. When shopping, she sometimes saw an item he might like, a sweater she thought would actually fit or a fancy lighter, and have to fight the impulse to buy it. She didn’t want to freak him out by showering him with gifts before they were a couple.

She took a deep breath to clear her head as she entered his building, then went to the mail area to find his apartment number. It didn't take long: "P. Fleck, 8J." When she went to the elevator, she paused. It looked rickety. But she had enough reading material if she was stuck for an hour or two. Stepping into it, she pushed the button for the eighth floor. The lift thought it over before closing and starting its slow ascent.

Once she arrived, she went the wrong way down the corridor and had to double back. She laughed at her mistake. At least the extra steps helped build her excitement. When in front of Arthur’s door, she bounced quickly between her toes and her heels, then pressed the buzzer.

"Coming!"

The sound of his soft, raspy voice, the anticipation of knowing he'd be with her in a few seconds... She smiled. As she heard the chain lock being slid over, she bounced again, once, feeling simultaneously ridiculous and perfect.

The door opened quickly and Arthur stood there, a dishtowel over his shoulder. Y/N didn't miss how his gray thermal shirt clung to his torso and arms, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He braced himself against the door, his eyebrows creasing in the middle. "Oh, hey. What are you doing here?"

She stared at him, his slicked-back hair from what she assumed was a recent shower, his eyes piercing hers. It took a moment for her to process his question, and she swallowed before answering. "I was working in the neighborhood and wanted to wish you luck before your show."

"On a Sunday?"

She gave a shrug. "It's unusual, but it happens."

"I thought you'd call," he said.

That wasn't what she'd expected. Ugh, he had been busy. She scrunched up her face. "Am I interrupting you? I wasn't sure if I should just show up. I can go if-"

"No." Arthur shook his head and looked down, sighing. "That's not what I meant."

She saw his shoulders tense as his hand moved to the doorknob, which made a jiggling sound when he fiddled with it. Y/N took a step towards him and leaned against the frame. "I've missed you since Friday."

A smile came across his face, slowly spreading from cheek to cheek. "Really?"

"Really." She dug into her bag, then, and held out the bag of cookies. "The client I was with gave me these. They’re for you and your mother."

Eyes flicking to hers, he took them. "That’s sweet." His hand was so close - he hadn't drawn it back completely.

Y/N pursed her lips, a tad frustrated. He wanted her to touch him - hell, he'd come right out and told her. And she hadn't missed the feel of his erection against her when she’d been in his arms. "May I kiss you?" she asked.

A breath of relief came out of him as he chuckled. "Yeah." The cookies were quickly put on the side table. He leaned into her a bit, his voice lowering. "You don't have to ask, Y/N."

"Good to know," she said, grinning at him. Her bag fell to the floor as she wrapped her arms around his neck. It only took a second for his right arm to pull her closer, his hand splaying on the small her back. “You don’t have to ask me, either.”

He tilted his head, nuzzling at her cheek before their lips met, his left hand going to her hip. The warmth of his lithe form against her went straight to her core. A low moan left her throat. The way his lips pulled at hers, a bit clumsy but eager, made her arch against him. She could tell he was holding back, causing heat to settle deep in her abdomen.

He tasted of nicotine and coffee, neither of which were particularly pleasant, but were definitely him. The artificial fragrance of the shampoo he'd used smelled like cheap musk, but was nice nonetheless. And she could have sworn he was wearing aftershave. She sighed happily as their lips parted. "Mm. You smell good."

"Thanks," he answered, backing away, his face flushed. He turned his body so she could look into the apartment. "Come in?"

"I'd love to." After stepping through the doorway, she put her bag down next to the side table and hung up her coat. "I can't stay long, though. If you peek in my bag, you'll see paperwork waiting."

He stepped to the kitchen sink. "I was just doing dishes," he said, indicating the dish rack with his hand.

She went to his side as he put his hands in the water, and took the dish towel from his shoulder. "Let me dry." As they worked in tandem, Y/N heard the radio on the windowsill was playing at a low volume. He had been listening to an oldies station. She wondered if he always had music on when doing housework.

Arthur’s expression was content. He looked her way every so often, his dimples showing when he did. "How's your job?” he asked.

"It's fine." She started drying the cutlery, and putting it on the opposite counter, unsure of where it should go. "My boss called yesterday. I have to go to some benefit on Thursday at Wayne Hall. I'm going to have to find something decent to wear."

His response came quicker than expected. "You always look nice."

She blushed. "Thank you." Grabbing a plate, she continued. "I wish I could bring you with me. I hate these things. Thank god there's an open bar.” She scooted a bit closer. “How about you? Have you had any clown gigs?"

His face remained steady. “It's slow this time of year.”

When Y/N put the plate on the counter, a row of prescription bottles caught her eye. They all had Arthur's name on them, and they were mostly empty. A couple of the drug names were familiar to her: Ahenelzine, Diazepam... Those were for depression and anxiety. She'd taken something for depression herself for a time when she was back home. Without that extra help, she wouldn't have been able to deal with being a caretaker.

She flushed, turning away before she could read the rest. Apart from what was on his laminated card and his terrible smoking habit, she'd simply assumed he was healthy, if a bit tired. Maybe he had a thyroid issue - that would help explain his figure, though she adored it. Or perhaps he just needed help dealing with his mother.

Guilt welled in her. His medicine and medical history were none of her business this early on. She wanted to give him that respect. Until there was a problem, if there was a problem, it wouldn't matter. Not unless he wanted to share that part of himself.

But there were quite a few bottles...

Y/N watched him as he washed a bowl, thinking of the isolation he'd described on their first date, his excitement at being able to show her around his city. The happiness she felt when she was around him, even if he constantly second-guessed himself and was often unsure of what to say. The way he’d tried to comfort her when she’d started crying on her couch. Her heart did a little flip.

He was the same Arthur as sixty seconds ago, before she’d spotted the prescriptions. The medication could wait.

"After the show, I was thinking we could get something to eat,” he said, putting a glass in the drying rack.

She sidled up next to him. "I'd love to. Pogo's is in Chinatown, right? Kao Wah is pretty good. It'll be my treat."

He let the water out of the sink, then took the towel from her and dried his hands. "But I'm asking you out.”

She leaned back on the counter, facing him. "Yeah, but it's your night. It can be a congratulatory dinner and a date."

He turned to look straight at her, his hip against the sink's edge. A small smirk was on his mouth as he shook his head. Y/N saw amusement and disbelief in his gaze. With his arms folded over his chest, he still held himself with reservation, even after taking her breath away at the front door.

She took his hand; it was still warm and damp. It opened as she brought it to the dip of her waist. His eyes dropped to her mouth before a bashful smile took over and he looked away from her. He was so hesitant, it felt like he was teasing her. She cleared her throat. "In case I hadn't made it clear earlier, you can touch me, Arthur. I want you t-."

His mouth was on her almost immediately, and groaned softly in this throat as she brought her palm to his chest. She felt his other hand grasp at her side and pull her close, while at the same time he turned to pin her gently against the counter. Giggles bubbled up in her throat as his kisses changed, surprising her when he pressed soft pecks on her cheeks and forehead. He hugged her close, then, and buried his face in her hair, sighing.

As she ran her fingers up and down his back, she closed her eyes. All right. That display had provided some clarity. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "How did I get so lucky to run into you at the store and the donut shop, hm?" she asked, squeezing him tighter. "And on the train?"

Grip loosening, he stepped away, frowning. "You're not the lucky one." He reached for his cigarettes and lighter, which were behind him on the breakfast bar. He rubbed his fingers together, then put a cigarette in his mouth. "I wish I-"

"Happy? Are you home?" a voice from the bedroom sounded.

Arthur plucked the smoke from his lips, putting it on the counter. "Hold on, mom."

Y/N winced. "She won't be upset I'm here, will she?"

Shaking his head, he turned towards the living room. "I just need to help her get up. Give me a couple minutes."

She watched his form until it disappeared into a hallway to the side of the apartment. Stepping further into the it, she checked out the living room. The place would have been something twenty-five years ago. Now it was run-down, but clean and well kept. The plaid wallpaper, stained from cigarette smoke, wasn't one she would have chosen. Her eyes roved over the furniture. A brown notebook was on the coffee table. And the pillow, bed sheet, and blanket on the couch made her brow furrow. Arthur didn't have a bed of his own? How long had he been sleeping on the sofa? At least she'd had a room in Boonville.

It occurred to her, looking around, that apart from an ashtray and some shirts hung haphazardly in the corner, nothing in the apartment said Arthur. Not the ugly cat candle on a nearby bureau, not the paintings on the wall behind the TV, not the wax fruit on the weirdest metal stand she'd ever seen. It was like he was an afterthought in his own home.

Arthur's voice caught her attention. "Here you go."

The sight in front of her was well-known. He guided the older woman to an easy-chair, one arm under her shoulder, the other holding her hand. She looked at Ms. Fleck's face and faded red hair. It was obvious she'd been beautiful when she was younger. Arthur looked nothing like her, but Y/N thought he must have gotten whatever genes made him handsome from her.

Once settled, Ms. Fleck turned to her. "Who's that?"

"She's Y/N, mom. The woman I told you about." He flicked on the TV.

Y/N approached her and crouched down to be at eye-level. "Hi, Ms. Fleck. It's nice to meet you. Arthur's said such nice things about you." She stuck her hand out to the woman and flashed a smile at Arthur. He grinned.

Ms. Fleck didn't respond at first, almost looking through her. Then she lifted her hand and took the one proffered to her. "I never thought my Happy would find a girlfriend. Especially one so pretty." Her lips turned up. "He talked about you, but I don't know where his head is sometimes."

Y/N flinched. Gently, she let go of Ms. Fleck's hand, then rose to stand and look at Arthur.

He looked as if his mother had struck him, standing stock still in front of the TV with his eyes shut. Y/N had never seen him angry before, but his clenched jaw and the fists at his sides made it obvious.

Ms. Fleck spoke again. “Happy, did you check the mail?”

Arthur’s face fell. “There’s no mail on Sundays.” His answer came softly, voice low and trembling.

Y/N reached and took his hand, then guided him back to the kitchen, away from his mother. "Don't listen to her. It's her illness talking," she said. It was an assumption, but it felt right.

He braced himself against the archway as he lit a cigarette, staring at the floor.

Not wanting to cause him pain, but needing to know what was going on, she asked her next question carefully. "Why does she keep calling you 'Happy?'"

Smoke left his mouth and nose as he spoke. "She's always done that. She's always told me to smile and put on a happy face." His shoulders shook as soft laughter escaped him. "I don't want to be angry around you. I'm sorry." The hurt in his eyes betrayed the smile he wore.

"Arthur, stop, stop," she said, bringing her hands to his face. After kissing him firmly, she put her forehead to his cheek. "It's all right." She carded a hand through his now nearly dry hair. "I'm sorry she said that."

He didn't put his arms around her, instead standing stiffly against the wall. "You should go. I know you have work to do." He said it quietly, almost a whisper.

She worried her lip, wishing he would let her comfort him instead of shutting her out. "Do you want to come back with me? Have some space?"

"No," he said. "She hasn't eaten."

"Are you going to be all right?"

"Yeah. I'll give her dinner and she'll want to go back to bed. Murray Franklin isn't on tonight."

Reluctantly, she let go of him. "Okay." He followed her to the door and helped her with her coat. Her throat clenched - he was still being thoughtful, even through his upset. She grabbed her bag and gave him a quick peck. "I'll call you when I get home. I already can't wait to see you. Pogo's at eight?"

Opening the door, he nodded, his eyes darting to hers for only a moment. "Pogo's at eight."

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​ @clowndaddyfleck​ @stephieraptorr​ @rommies​ @sweet-nothings04​

[the-hidden-writer]

An Odd Family Tree

A series of snippets from the lives of the FitzSimmons family, set post 7x13. Also, the series of events that leads up to the birth of their grandson.

Available to read on AO3 and FF.net.

Comments make my day!

Chapter 9: Friendship

Fitz wished that he could sink into the sofa for all eternity.

“Ha! Come on Fitzy, you owe me a tenner.”

Fitz also wished that he could wipe that infuriatingly smug grin off Hunter’s face.

“They usually win,” he mumbled, “they kept Kirkland off the pitch for half the match. It just had to be the one where it mattered.”

He facepalmed when Hunter began to guffaw. “Okay, I definitely see where Owen got it from.”

Hunter’s laughter died down. “I’m sorry, mate. Football aside, I really missed you. All of you guys. I mean, the last time I saw you I was helping load your body onto a ship so you could freeze yourself into the future or something.”

Fitz laughed quietly. “Yeah, you were my last earth memory for a while.”

Hunter furrowed his eyebrows but didn’t question it.

“How’d that work out for you?”

Clearing his throat, Fitz tried to summon up the backlog of memories that Jemma had told him so long ago of his alternate self.

“Well, uh, I made it. To, um, 2091. There was… the Kree? Yeah, the Kree. They’d enslaved humanity and were orbiting a version of Earth that had been quaked apart by Daisy in the Lighthouse. I met up with the team, did some stuff, got home-”

“Wait, how?” Interrupted Hunter, looking surprisingly engaged in Fitz’s story. “You can’t freeze yourself backwards in time.”

As much as Fitz loved Hunter, his failure to notice the obvious tended to get on his nerves. A lot.

“The same way the others got there in the first place,” he said, not bothering to hide his exasperation, “through the time monolith. Surprisingly that rock had enough of its magic space juice to bring back eight people. Anyway, we got back safely and apparently Talbot turned on us and Yo-Yo lost her arms and I d…”

He paused his story-telling when he noticed Hunter counting on his fingers and whispering numbers to himself.

“What?” Fitz asked grumpily.

Hunter shrugged. “I remember you mentioned a ‘Yo-Yo’ last time I saw you, so did you end up bringing back the bot?”

It took Fitz a minute to figure out what the bloody hell Hunter was going on about. “Oh, you mean Enoch? Nah, I’m pretty sure he sacrificed himself or something. I don’t know, I wasn’t there.”

The look on Hunter’s face was priceless.

“I mean, that wasn’t this version of me. When they- we got back, I died.” That memory was far from pleasant, but thinking of the next part brought a small smile to his face. “Jemma searched through space to find the frozen version of me and Enoch.”

Slowly but surely, Hunter pulled up his dropped jaw. “That’s one hell of a story to tell the kids. Oh, sorry, just the one kid.”

Alya was more than enough for him. She was his everything, but also kids (especially inquisitive and clever ones) are a pain.

“You have no idea.”

“But hey,” Hunter continued, “who’s the eighth teammate? Not another handsome English rogue, I hope.”

“You wish.” Fitz scoffed. “No, it was a… a-um, just a guy from the future that got dragged back with us.”

Hunter cackled. “Lucky bastard. Bet SHIELD had fun babysitting him.”

Now Fitz had only been reunited with Hunter for an hour, and the majority of that had been spent watching a football game. And still, after the way that they’d immediately settled into their (very) old dynamic, he couldn’t help but feel compelled to trust him in a brotherly way.

“Hey, Hunter?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you promise to keep a secret? And not to tell anyone, especially Alya and Owen?”

Hunter looked more than skeptical but still agreed. “Uh huh?”

Taking a deep breath, Fitz prepared himself for something that Jemma would probably almost definitely shout at him for later.

“So, you know that future guy that we brought back?”

Hunter nodded.

“His name was Deke.”

Fitz took a moment to let the first part sink in, but Hunter seemed to take it slightly differently.

“That’s it?” He asked. “Wow, what a weird name! I promise not to tell anyone!”

“He’s my grandson. He’s- our grandson.”

Hunter blinked once. Then twice. Then he slowly opened his mouth to speak.

Fitz prepared himself for the worst. He remembered when Jemma had first told him that the annoying and excitable addition to the team was their future grandson. It had taken a lot of convincing to get him to believe it, and now that he’d impulsively let the cat out of the bag to Hunter, he had to be ready to be there for him in that same way.

“So my son does have what it takes. Huh. Never thought he’d grow up enough.”

It was Fitz’s turn to blink in confusion. “What?”

“I mean, before coming here I thought he’d get cold feet and call it all off. But if your daughter is anything like you then like hell she’ll let him.”

“Okay, stop,” Fitz said, raising a hand, “are you not… concerned by the fact that your grandson is permanently stuck in an alternate timeline and also hasn’t been born yet?”

Hunter shrugged. “You didn’t mention that part, but at least we know what to name their kid. You seem way too stressed about it buddy, so unless it was entirely your fault I think you should lighten up. Focus on the now. Our kids are getting married soon, isn’t that crazy?” He slapped Fitz’s back, and though it knocked the air out of his lungs, Fitz found the gesture strangely comforting.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is. I guess you’re right.”

It was then that Fitz realised that as much as he loved his family more than the entire universe itself, he’d needed a Hunter in his life to balance things out.

And more than that, he’d missed his friend.