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❛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘ. ᴘᴀɴ ᴇғғᴇᴄᴛ. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚ ▎❛ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ❜ ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴏʏ sᴜᴄᴋ ᴄʟᴜʙ ꒱
❝ CUTE HAT, SUNDANCE ❞
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Note: before we begin, I'd like to announce that for the first several chapters, I'll be using Viktor's deadname of Vanya and she/her pronouns to address him in the first scenes where he hasn't transitioned yet. Once he does so in the show, I will appropriately call him by his name and preferred pronouns.
Most of the time, Deianira Hargreeves preferred chaos. It was her default setting and chosen fighting mode, which was aided by her scarlet-red power. She could create destruction with barely a movement except the slightest curl of her well-manicured finger. Her power writhed inside of her on a daily basis just begging to be used and she was only happy to let it out.
Still, there were some days— very few, mind you— that she felt like creating instead. She was not an artist nor musician in any sense but she could fashion reality to her will. It was often with Sloane that she felt like this for the fifth member of their family had somehow managed to carve a space for herself in Deianira's cold, dead heart (or so she described herself.)
Today was one of the latter days— for the time being, at least— and the curly-haired woman found herself heading for her girlfriend's room. The entirety of the Sparrow Academy knew not to mess with Sloane (not that they would since she was a saint) because Deianira did nothing to hide her affections for the daydreaming woman. So, she was hardly subtle when she let herself through the door.
Sloane herself was sitting on her ceiling as usual and (as usual) she held her travel guide in her hands. Tilting her head up to watch the woman, she spoke to get her attention: "so, where are we going today?"
The blonde lowered her book and gracefully flipped so that she joined Deianira on the ground. She turned her warm brown eyes towards her. "Where would you like to go?"
Deianira shrugged. "You know I don't give two shits about this stuff. It's whatever you want to do."
Her careless answer earned her a soft kiss on the cheek. "I was just reading about Italy," Sloane said. "Pisa is supposed to have wonderful weather."
"Alright." The curly-haired woman mimicked an airplane pilot's radio. "'Thank you for choosing Deianira Airlines. Today's destination is sunny Pisa whose temperature is in the mid to upper eighties. Clear skies are expected for the duration of the flight. An attendant will be out momentarily to go over safety instructions—"
As she continued to create the illusion of takeoff procedures (not that either of them had ever been on an airplane except for missions), red light formed around her fingers and began to glow brighter. She let it flood the room until Sloane's belongings became covered with a scarlet film. Slowly, the familiar wooden panels on the floor changed to bright, springy grass. The bed transformed into the famous leaning tower itself and it stretched up past the ceiling as it disappeared into an azure sky. A light breeze floated through the room and the sun's warmth could be felt as if they were truly outside. Sweet smells drifted by them that hinted at a nearby bakery and the low murmur of people's voices could be heard as they observed the tower.
Sloane looked around the scene with wide, awed eyes. Although this was not the first place that they'd "travelled" to, she always seemed so impressed by whatever Deianira created. The brunette curled her fingers towards the ground and a plaid picnic blanket appeared next to them, complete with its own wicker basket. With an excited gasp, the other woman rushed over to it and sat down. She looked up at her girlfriend expectantly. "Well? Aren't you going to join me?" She patted the space next to her.
With a resigned sigh, Deianira took the offer and sat with her legs outstretched on the blanket. She placed her arms behind her to support her position and looked up at the structure. "You know, I don't really get what's so great about a leaning tower. I mean, I could try my hand at architecture and get the same exact result, except mine would probably be classified as 'a hazard to society' or 'fundamentally unsound.' It sets a double standard, y'know?"
Sloane chuckled at the brunette's complaints and leaned against her outstretched arm. "It's about the history, Nira," she chided her gently. "That's why it's important."
"What history?" Deianira scoffed. "Italians are terrible at making buildings?"
"Pisa was a key trading port several hundred years ago," she explained. "The tower isn't just leaning for no reason— it was actually supposed to be a bell tower but the land underneath it was too marshy so it began to sink while they were still constructing it. That's why it's no longer perpendicular."
"It still sounds like an oversight on their part. I mean, nobody thought to jump on the ground to test its durability?" The curly-haired woman sent her a rather saucy smirk. "I jump on every new bed to test out the squeaks so we don't keep our siblings up all night long. It's the same concept, really."
Sloane rolled her eyes, used to her girlfriend's teasing comments. "A building that weighs several hundred tons would have quite a different impact on the Earth than if one of the construction workers tried on their own. Don't forget that it was built during the Medieval times so they didn't have modern means to test that sort of thing."
"I won't forget as long as you're here to remind me," Deianira replied.
They spent almost an hour like that, together in the illusion that the eighth sibling had created. Deianira knew that Sloane would do anything to have a life of her own away from the academy, more than just what her powers could provide. Still, if there was some good that she could create for her girlfriend rather than destruction all the time, she would be willing to go against her own grain to make that happen. Her power couldn't hide everything, though, and the peaceful scene was soon cut through by the blaring of the mission alarm.
The setting of Pisa dissolved as easily as if it had never existed in the first place— which it hadn't, really— and the two women rose from their places on the floor. The brunette sighed as she opened the door for Sloane. "I wonder what it is this time. D'you think dad lost his pills? Or maybe Grace short circuited again?"
She earned an exasperated look for that comment. "Don't even joke about that, Nira. You know the alarm is only for serious missions."
"Yeah, like the last time Dad got hungry and couldn't find any ice cream in the house," she grumbled in response.
This time, her girlfriend ignored her entirely. They made their way to the balcony where they were greeted with the sight of seven unfamiliar faces. Their father was standing at the opposite end of the room and he looked entirely unruffled.
"Wrong again," he corrected them. "This is The Sparrow Academy."
Ben— who fancied himself their leader despite Marcus' place as number one— didn't deign to stand with them on the floor above. Instead, he met the opposing group head-on and stared at them with a gaze full of hostility. "Dad, who the hell are these assholes?"
Although they would probably end up fighting each other, Deianira took the time to study each of them in turn. Starting on the left, a dark-skinned woman with brown hair stood at the back with her arms crossed. She wore black opera gloves and a matching cape as if she were expecting to be cast in a play at the drop of a hat. The other woman that stood closest to her had limp brown hair and wore an apprehensive expression on her face, in contrast to her sister's exasperated one.
The large man in the back was watching everything as though he were slightly confused all the time, which gave Deianira the impression that he was slow and stupid. In the middle of the group were two teens: one was a boy with dark hair and floppy bangs. He was wearing a school uniform and she could tell by the way his shoulders slumped slightly that he was already tired. His hand was attached to a blonde girl's who had stepped forward at the sight of Ben. Her blue eyes were very wide as she stared at him with— was that guilt? on her face.
The last two members had long, dark brown hair. The one standing towards the front was wearing some sort of dinky cowboy hat while the one at the back was heavily armed with knives. All in all, they did not look to be a very threating bunch, especially as they exclaimed "shit" in unison.
"Ben," the blonde girl breathed out, as if she couldn't believe that she was seeing him. "Is that really you?" She made to take another step forward but was stopped by the boy who held fast to her hand.
The big man at the back moved to the front of his family with a similar expression. Before Ben could question their strange reception of him, the man with many knives noticed the rest of The Sparrow Academy. "And who are those weirdos on the balcony?"
"They are the Sparrows," Reginald answered him calmly. "My children."
As he spoke, Deianira reached out and grasped Sloane's shoulder for support. The house rumbled underneath their feet as if it were disagreeing with his words and she could feel the shift in the air because of them. The blonde turned to give her a concerned look. "Are you alright?"
She nodded briefly in response and straightened. "Just peachy," she replied easily. "Let's take care of these fools and go back to doing something a lot more. . . pleasurable instead."
"We have training after this," Sloane reminded her.
"Oh, fuck me," the brunette groaned.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Fei leaned around Jayme. "If you two could stop sucking face for more than five minutes, that would be greatly appreciated."
Deianira turned to her sister with a raised eyebrow. "Are you uncomfortable because two women like to kiss?" She nudged her girlfriend. "Sloany, our siblings are homophobic."
"You know that's not true," Fei countered her evenly. "It's just that a) my bedroom is right next to Sloane's and I can hear you two going at it all night and b) not vanquishing my enemies does make me uncomfortable."
"Hear, hear!" the curly-haired woman cheered. "What's taking Ben so long to make his dramatic speech anyway?"
"Let's roll," Alphonso suggested. Together, they made their way to the first floor to stand opposite of the newcomers.
"Everybody else can see Ben, right?" the man in the cowboy hat asked.
Deianira gave him an unimpressed look. Was having sight suddenly something that required recognition? Ben remained unphased by his odd remark. "Cute hat, Sundance."
"They call themselves The Umbrella Academy," Reginald announced. "A group of scheming, perfidious malcontents who accosted me in the fall of '63 when I was away on business in Dallas. Be warned, they claim to be my spawn."
The woman that Deianira elected to call Drama Queen didn't appreciate his words. "Claim?" she repeated. "Look, Five, what the hell is going on?"
The boy— whose name was apparently Five— answered her uncertainly, "I don't know yet but. . . it is concerning."
"Is he telling the truth?" Marcus asked the group.
"Not the part about us being perfidious." This came from the quiet woman at the back. Deianira gave her the moniker of Sad Girl for the time being since she seemed to be having trouble putting emotion into her voice.
"No, we're amateur-fidious at best," Cowboy Hat cut in.
"But we are his children," she continued. "This is our house."
"Yeah, yeah. We, uh. . . we grew up here," Ape-man agreed. She took immediate dislike to him. He seemed to have a bumbling manner that was more bull-in-a-china-shop compared to Sloane's gracefulness.
"Uh, yeah, we grew up here," Alphonso mocked him. His comment earned snickers of amusement from Fei and Deianira.
"I kind of think we would have noticed you," Sloane added.
Her words made him do a double take and he smiled at her. "Hi! I'm Luther." He stuck out his hand in greeting.
His fingers glowed red suddenly and his hand was forced down by Deianira's powers. "Yeah, keep it in your pants, buddy. She's already taken."
"I wasn't-I wasn't—" he stumbled over his excuse and she let out a derisive laugh.
"Don't worry, big man. I get it. But I'll only give you this warning once: if you so much as touch her—"
"Number Eight," Marcus cut across her threat authoritatively, causing her to fall into a sulky silence. She opted to glare at Ape-Man instead. He quickly averted his gaze and looked distinctly uncomfortable from the viciousness of her look.
"Okay," Drama Queen put in. She walked up to the front to face them. "None of you belong here."
"Oh! Well, then, I guess we'll just pack our bags and move out," Fei said sarcastically. Christopher added his own words to her comment and they chuckled appreciatively.
"You slay me, Chris," Ben replied.
Grace appeared in the doorway then, carrying a plate of cookies in her hands. "I wasn't expecting company. This is the best I could do on short—" Her voice deepened and became more robotic as she malfunctioned. "Short notice."
Deianira nudged her girlfriend. "What did I tell you about Grace needing to be fixed?"
Knife Man stepped forward with a look of shock on his face. "Mom."
"Mom?" Jayme repeated in her bored voice. "She's a robot, you perv."
"It's not a robot," he argued.
"Hey, don't you call him that!" Ape-Man spoke up to defend his brother.
"Or what?" Deianira taunted him. Her red power wove around her fingers as she held up her hand in mild threat.
"Come closer and find out!"
"Luther! Guys, chill!" Sad Girl protested.
"What, you think we're afraid?" Ben questioned him. He stepped closer to the opposing group.
"Stand down, Ben." Marcus tried to get ahold of the rapidly-spiraling situation. Deianira ignored his previous warning and stepped up next to her brother. They exchanged a look that could have been described as. . . excited in the face of their newest rivals.
"Oh, look at that! She's got a voice!" Ape-Man mocked their Number One.
"How about I hide the big Rubik's Cube up your ass?" Knife Man shouted in response.
"Enough!" Marcus called about the noise. "I don't know what circus you people escaped from or how you got past our security, but we're done here. You got thirty seconds to get out of our house."
As their brother spoke, Jayme readied her power and aimed it right at Knife Boy's face. The curly-haired woman held out a subtle hand for a high-five, which her sister returned. Drama Queen remained oblivious to what had just happened as she asked the question Deianira had been hoping would come up: "And if we don't?"
"Then we'll have to settle this the old-fashioned way," Marcus answered.
"Look, we just fought a literal army," Sad Girl explained reasonably. "Okay? This doesn't need to get ugly. Let's all just calm down and let's talk."
"Psst!" Cowboy Hat hissed. "Ben-er-ino! You look so much better alive then you do dead. Am I right? Except that haircut."
"What the hell did you just say?"
As the long-haired man approached Ben, the blonde teen reached out a hand. "Klaus, no!"
Her warning came too little, too late as he spoke again: "come on, come on. Stop with all the hostility, Mr. Grumpy Pants." He paused. "Oh, wow. Nice scar. Muy macho."
Deianira winced at the mention; they all knew that particular injury was a sensitive topic for their brother. The anger in his voice was evident as he growled out: "shut your mouth!"
"You shut your mouth and just hug your brother—" Cowboy Hat exclaimed in response as he held his arms out wide.
Ben drew back his fist to punch him in response but stopped abruptly. A blue wall flickered into existence and cut off his intended target from the thrashing he'd been about to receive. They could hear exclamations of protest coming from the rival siblings as the wall became a dome. Deianira rolled her eyes.
"How cute," she said in a voice that indicated she didn't truly mean her words. She turned to Marcus. "How long do I have to wait before I crush them?"
"Give them a few minutes," he answered. His eyes were fixed on the glowing sphere as if he expected it to do something else besides just sit there and take up the entire living room.
The curly-haired woman sighed and lifted her hand to examine her well-kept fingernails. She inspected them for invisible dirt as Ben added his voice to hers: "seriously, Marcus? What the hell are we waiting for them to do? Have a nice brunch while we sit here and look like fools? Just let Deia destroy them already!"
"Relax, Benny," she replied before their brother could. "I'm sure the Great and All-Knowing Number One has the perfect plan in mind—"
"Oh, alright you two. Quit your complaining," Marcus sighed. "Go ham on them, Deia."
She gave him an evil little grin before she let her power return to her fingers. It glowed in thin wisps, like smoke, and poured to the ground with equal weightlessness. She let it crawl over the carpet until it reached the edge of the blue dome where, inside, the siblings were no doubt arguing. (Her guess was correct.) Deianira continued to give fuel to the red smoke as it slowly made its way up the sides of the shield.
Her siblings could all tell that she was thoroughly enjoying herself as she took her time to play with them. Whoever was in control of the dome was going to have a massive headache when she finished with them and that would be the least of their problems. She curled her fingers a little more tightly towards her palm and the scarlet vapor pressed down on the shield in response.
The curly-haired woman continued her slow onslaught until the dome began to crack under the force of her power. She was pretty sure that the controller inside let out a cry of pain and she smirked, pleased with the result that she was getting. Spider-web fissures began to appear on the fragile shell until they deepened to go all the way through.
"Get ready, everyone," Deianira announced. "Let's have some fun, shall we?"
A/n: I hope you enjoyed the first "real" chapter! I think that I made this pretty obvious in the beginning, but Luther/Sloane won't be happening in this book. They were an alright couple but I wanted to mirror the eight/five dynamic that I gave to The Umbrella Academy.
I don't have any more chapters currently written since I'm trying to finish prewriting my Stranger Things fanfiction first, but I'm going to try to update every Wednesday. (I can't make any promises yet until I have more completed chapters for this book in my drafts, though.)