numberfourhargreeves

[numberfourhargreeves]

Pins inspired by everyone’s favourite dysfunctional family of superheroes! 

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Vanya had been practising. Whenever her brothers and sister were honing their powers or training for missions, she would get out her violin and play through the same piece of music over and over until she could recite it in her sleep. Grace would check in now and then while collecting laundry or straitening up their rooms, but she was largely left alone and that was how she had learned to like things. So when someone ran past her partially open door, a blur of blue uniform, the noise shook her out of her focus.

By the time she had registered that it must have been one her brothers, a door slammed in the hallway. She was pretty sure it was the room next door, which mean it was Klaus who had barrelled down the hall. He should have been in lessons, that much Vanya was sure, and from the way the wall had shook by his forceful door-slamming, he wasn’t in a good mood. Usually she stayed away from her siblings when they were angry, not wanting to risk the chance of powers used against her whether purposefully or in accidental rage, but Klaus couldn’t, and she was certain wouldn’t, hurt her.

Laying her violin carefully down on her bed, she made her way out into the corridor and over to her brother’s door.

“Klaus?” she called cautiously, knocking gently.

There was a long pause and she considered just walking in, but then a small voice called out a reply.

“Go away.”

Normally she’d have listened, if it wasn’t for the thick undertone of tears that were clearly coating Klaus’ throat. Whatever he’d been running from, it had upset him more than she’d thought. Summoning a little boldness she usually wasn’t permitted, she turned the doorknob and peeked in to the room. Klaus was curled up on his bed, knees pulled up to his chest to make himself as small as possible. He hadn’t bothered to turn the light on but the curtains Grace had pulled open earlier at least let in enough sun that Vanya could see. They may all have been born at the same time on the same day but Klaus always felt like one of the youngest of her siblings and when he looked this dejected it was clear why.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, not sure whether or not to walk into the gloom.

Klaus didn’t look up, not even to tell her to fuck off, and that alone was strange. He kept his forehead pressed against his knees and waited just a beat too long to reply. “Fine and dandy,” he forced through gritted teeth, anger undeniable. But she didn’t think it was anger at her.

Vanya wasn’t sure what made her think it, but she had a hunch. One she was afraid of. “Will you look at me?”

Every muscle in Klaus’ back tensed and she knew she was on to something, even if she wished she could be wrong. There was a long pause while she waited to be told to leave, or even just for him to refuse to look up but after a painful silence, Klaus raised his head and turned until his cheek was in the beam of sunlight from the window. The unmistakable shape of a hand, imprinted in red and soon to be purple, covered his skin. Vanya couldn’t silence her gasp.

“What happened?” she managed, taking a few steps forward until she could see better. The small blood vessels under the surface had burst from the impact of what she was sure was their father’s hand.

“What do you think?” Klaus laughed bitterly. “Why?” Vanya pressed.

She knew their father was easy to anger and she knew Klaus probably angered him more than any of the rest of their siblings, but Reginald Hargreeves rarely hit them across the face. It made missions too difficult – having to explain away the mark in a way that didn’t make the media worry. Sighing, Klaus held out his hands and uncurled his fingers. His nails were painted a bright and cheery yellow, probably by Allison’s hand based on neatness alone.

“I forgot to take it off,” he shrugged.

Vanya felt a dull rush of hatred down her back. They all knew Klaus liked makeup and nail varnish and wearing clothes he ‘wasn’t supposed to’ but they understood that it wasn’t something they should tell their father about. Even Luther turned a blind eye to the lipstick and mascara Klaus would wear when their father was out of their house. This kind of situation was exactly what they’d been worried would happen if he ever found out. It wasn’t okay for Klaus to get hit just because he wanted to have painted nails. “You should tell-” Vanya began, but Klaus cut her off abruptly.

“Who? Mom? He programmed her. Pogo? He exists because of Dad,” he explained, clearly having already thought it through. They didn’t have anyone else they could go to.

Vanya didn’t have an answer for him. She rocked up onto the balls of her feet for a moment, tempted to leave her brother be but he still looked so sad and she couldn’t turn her back on him while he had tears in his eyes and was still cradling his cheek in pain. Instead she perched awkwardly on the edge of his bed, reaching an arm around him.

“At least there’s one upside – Dad will definitely let you wear makeup on the next few missions to cover the bruise,” she tried, hoping to cheer him up.

Turning to look at her with pure bafflement in his eyes, Klaus seemed almost surprised to find that she had a sense of humour and for a moment Vanya was worried that she’d stepped too far. But then he burst out laughing, tears still present but causing hiccups rather than sobs. When it finally subsided to giggles he returned Vanya’s hug, far less awkwardly, and whispered a thank you into her hair. They might not have any adults they could go to, but they still had each other.

[numberfourhargreeves]

Klaus absolutely buys this shirt (several sizes too small, and probably cuts off the sleeves) to wear in front of Diego to prove a goddamn point

[numberfourhargreeves]

Klaus’ Sibling Ranking

His favourite sibling was Ben. Yang to his yin, his brother was quiet and sensible, but strong. Whenever Klaus worried he would fall apart, Ben would be there to tether him back to earth and remind him that the wouldn’t have to live at the Academy forever, or that the ghosts couldn’t hurt him, or that he wasn’t alone.

Allison was fun when she was in a good mood. Sometimes Klaus was pretty sure she was treating him more like the doll she never got as a child than another human being, but if he got to dress up in her clothes and wear her makeup, he wasn’t going to complain.

Vanya was quieter even than Ben but she was better company than most of Klaus’ brothers. Mainly he’d lie on her bed and close his eyes while she played violin – he couldn’t hear the voices so well through the noise and the peace was a relief. That peace was something he eventually began to associate with Vanya herself.

It was difficult to talk to Five. He’d always seem to be having a conversation with himself, his brain working so fast that it provided the answers before Klaus got the chance to speak. Watching him pace or scribble in a note book was too stressful for Klaus to watch so he avoided Five when he was in one of his ‘inspired’ moods.

Diego was confusing. Sometimes he was nice, but often it seemed like he was trying too hard to be something he wasn’t. He’d complimented Klaus on his nail varnish once, sounding genuinely sincere, but he’d also told him to ‘stop being a baby’ or to ‘stop acting like a girl’ or to ‘just shut up for five minutes’ once too often for Klaus to really trust him.

If there was one sibling who had taken their fathers’ teachings to heart most sincerely, it was Luther. Klaus knew that anything he did or said in his brother’s presence ran the risk of being repeated to Reginald Hargreeves, so he mainly tried not to be in his presence at all. It was easier than hiding painted nails or watching every word he said. Luther felt just a little like a spy, a living wiretap.

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Diego and Luther’s childhood is full of fights with each other. Most of them have little weight behind them, just scuffles and petty arguments, but occasionally it will get serious. Either way, it’s not at all out of the ordinary for Allison to hear yelling and thumps from the corridor that linked all their rooms.

Putting down her magazine with a roll of her eyes, she peeked round the doorframe to find the familiar scene of Luther having Diego in a headlock.

“Didn’t Dad tell you yesterday that you weren’t meant to be fighting?” she asked, more than a little judgemental.

Both of her brothers stopped to look at her, pausing in an absurd tableau for a moment before Luther let Diego go.

“I think you’ll find what he said was ‘don’t use your powers against each other’. I haven’t thrown a single knife. And Luther promised not to throw me through a wall,” Diego shrugged, his stammer almost undetectable when he didn’t feel pressure to get the right words out.

If Allison had learned one thing at the Academy, it was that there was no controlling any of her brothers. They had never and likely would never listen to her without the use of a well-placed rumour, and she could count on her fingers the number of times she’d used her powers against any of them. Deciding plausible deniability was her best bet, she returned to her bed to leave her brothers to work out their differences. Or, far more likely, for Pogo or Grace to be the one to have to split them up.

[numberfourhargreeves]

These little stories that you made (about the kids childhood) are so awesome. Love them and i would like to see more (if it is possible).

Thank you for sending me such a lovely message! I have plenty more stories about these little whirlwinds of chaos. I’ll be posting more soon :)

[numberfourhargreeves]

ugh i love ur writings so much. actually thats an understatement, i ADORE ur writings. -sincerely, an admirer 🌹

That is incredibly sweet. Thank you so much for taking the time to write such a lovely note <3 I’m very grateful that you enjoy reading something I wrote!

[numberfourhargreeves]

☂️  the umbrella academy:

klaus + sitting on furniture “wrong”

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If you never time travelled, if you never got caught up with The Handler, what would’ve happened? I guess I would’ve grown up to be an emotionally stunted man-child like everybody else around here.

[numberfourhargreeves]

Names

The interviewer was sickly sweet, treating them like she’d treat most normal children rather than the automatons their father seemed to think they were. It was disconcerting. She’d asked them the same questions everyone else did – did they know how much the city appreciated them, did they enjoy being superheroes, were they ever scared. But then, just at the end of the interview, she turned to the only girl.

“What’s your name, sweetpea?”

Number Three fought the urge to roll her eyes. The epithet was bad enough, but the fact that this interviewer didn’t even know which of them was which was just rude. Still, their father had told them that politeness was of the upmost importance when it came to dealing with the press, and she had to practise for when she was famous of her own accord and not because of her powers.

“Number Three,” she replied, the words only a little clipped. But the woman just laughed.

“No, love, your name,” she prompted. “My name?” Number Three blinked, confused. She turned to look at her brothers but they didn’t seem to have any answers for her. “Rumour?” she tried.

“Do you not have-”

Sensing the shock in the voice of the interviewer, Reginald Hargreeves swooped in and put an end to the conversation before it became a public relations disaster.

“This interview is over, I think the children are tired,” he explained quickly, ushering them away.

He told Grace to give them names the moment they were back at the Academy.

It was strange at first, getting used to them. They’d been numbers all their lives, but now they had real names to use.

Luther liked his, liked that it felt strong and historic. He’d never questioned the numbers, if their father thought it was for the best then who was he to argue, and he loved being number one. But a name was nice too.

Diego liked having names to call his siblings, but wasn’t so sure about his own. Still, it felt better to hear the name of a person and not a number whispered in the dark when called to a midnight meeting or whined at him if he used dirty tactics when sparring. And anything was better than having to constantly defer to Luther in numerical rank.

Allison loved her name. If she was going to be famous then she couldn’t always go by a code name or a number, and she had big plans. ‘Rumour’ was fine for crime fighting, but it wasn’t the name of an A-List actress. She could already see ‘Allison’ in lights.

Klaus’ name didn’t feel much like his own, but then his powers didn’t feel like his own either. Each day that went by had him distancing himself further and further from reality. It just gave the ghosts a new thing to scream at him in the dark.

Five didn’t want a name – he always had preferred the company of numbers anyway.

Ben appreciated how simple his was, quiet and common and unremarkable. Just like he wished he could be.

And Vanya? Well, Vanya was just glad to be included. She hadn’t even known she was Russian until then; Grace dropped it casually into conversation when she handed out the names. Pulling at atlas off one of the bookcases in the library, she stared at the image of the country she’d apparently been born in, the country her mother might still be in, and wondered if she would feel more like she belonged there.

[numberfourhargreeves]

Rules

Everything was a rule in the Academy. What they wore, what they ate, what they said and who they said it to. They weren’t all written down, but they were reinforced and impossible to forget.

Despite the veritable magna carta worth of regulations from their father, the children couldn’t help but add more of their own – ones that made far more sense to them than only being allowed to eat a specially prepared diet or having to be up at six o’clock every morning. Their own rules were untold, agreed upon without having to discuss it. They all just understood never to make fun of Diego’s stutter; not to mock Klaus when he spoke to thin air; never to ask Vanya to stop practising her violin, no matter how late it was; only to make Ben use his powers if they absolutely had to; not to tell their father about each other’s weaknesses, even if they couldn’t understand them.

They were rules of survival, rules of compassion, rules of protection. They were a little bit of control that the siblings of the Umbrella Academy had over their own lives, which was something few and far between. But most importantly, they were the only way they knew how to care for each other – rules were all they had.

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diego: hey, where are you going?

klaus: to get ice cream or commit a felony, i’ll decide in the car.

[numberfourhargreeves]

Rumoured Payments

The first time they went to Griddy’s, sneaking out on a night their father was away and Grace was recharging, Allison promised she could front their doughnut indulgences. Since Reginald Hargreeves didn’t believe in candy and treats, the last time any of them had had a doughnut was their last birthday. This trip would be the result of ten months of cravings for something sweet and they were all more than happy to trust their sister if it meant both a trip away from the house and a sugar high.

Getting all seven of them, since Five had insisted on bringing Vanya, out of the Academy and down to the shop was a military operation. Leaving the house was one thing, but avoiding the attention of anyone who was likely to call in a band of children roaming the streets was another matter entirely. They’d left behind the Academy uniforms, vowing to meet up in Allison’s room wearing the most incognito clothing they could find. Everyone had managed to pull together something black so they could at least attempt to be stealthy about it. Even if Klaus’ understanding of the word ‘incognito’ meant wearing a black feather boa no one knew where he’d found, and one of Allison’s skirts. No one had the heart to make him change when they were all so excited about the prospect of freedom.

Herding each other like a gang of wild cats, they eventually stumbled, giddy and giggling, into the doughnut-scented diner. The lady at the till was surprised to see so many children in her business unchaperoned, but they seemed to be beyond questioning as they crowded around a table and poured over the menu. They didn’t appear to be lost, weren’t hurting anyone and were the only customers in the store, so she didn’t mind indulging them.

They started off with one doughnut each and a round of the most extravagant hot chocolates the establishment could produce – mountains of whipped cream, marshmallows and chocolate shavings. And then there was a second helping of doughnuts, followed closely by a third. Within an hour all seven of them were groaning from how much they’d eaten and well aware of the fact they had to get home before Pogo or Grace noticed their absence and reported it to their father.

When the bill was brought over, everyone turned to Allison. They didn’t get pocket money, didn’t have relatives to send them birthday cheques, and their work for the city apparently didn’t count as paid employment (not that Diego hadn’t asked), but she’d been resolute about being able to pay. Instead of handing over money, she put on a sweet smile.

“I heard a rumour that we’d paid for this already,” she said, saccharine and innocent.

Five kicked her under the table and, once the server had apologised for forgetting and promised to bring them over a box of complimentary doughnuts for the road, Allison turned to scowl at him.

“That’s a strange way of saying thank you,” she hissed.

All of her siblings were staring at her, mostly shocked and a little angry. Luther was disappointed. Klaus looked intrigued.

“I thought you said you had money?” Diego asked, supressing his stammer even in his surprise. “No, I said I had a way to pay,’ Allison corrected, crossing her arms and feeling rather proud of herself. It wasn’t her fault they didn’t get to be normal kids – they had to get a little creative now and then. “That’s not paying, that’s stealing,” Vanya mumbled, unsure if this was how her siblings usually used their powers. If it was she was rather glad she didn’t have an ability of her own.

“Well it was this or no trip out,” Allison huffed, climbing to her feet and storming out of the shop.

There was a shared look around that the table that said more than a conversation ever could. When you ate your meals with Reginald Hargreeves, you got used to saying a lot with just the quirk of an eyebrow. They came to the agreement that they had to follow her, because they might all have powers but that didn’t mean it was wise to be out alone. They hadn’t really hurt anyone by not paying for doughnuts that probably weren’t going to get bought by anyone else before fresh ones were put out in the morning, and they hadbeen defending the city without accepting any reward – what were a few baked goods in exchange for saving lives? Silently, they all got up to follow their sister.

As they were leaving, the waitress called after them, rushing over to press a box of pastries into Ben’s hands.

“Take these, they’ll go to waste otherwise. And get home safe. You’re good kids,” she cooed, waving them out the door.

Ben couldn’t help but laugh – she had no idea.

[numberfourhargreeves]

I know this post isn’t Umbrella Academy related, but I like to think this is how Diego got kicked out of the police academy...

[numberfourhargreeves]

the umbrella academy (2019–)

[numberfourhargreeves]

It had started with Allison painting her own nails. Their father had announced he was going out of town for a few days and she was absolutely going to take the opportunity to wear the nail varnish she was usually never allowed. This must be how regular twelve year old girls felt, she supposed as she leant back against the side of her bed and admired the bright pink lacquer as it dried. It was nice to feel normal for once.

She should have known Klaus would show up. Whenever she so much as opened a bottle of nail varnish, he’d appear like a tracker dog sniffing out a scent trail. Sure enough he was soon hovering in her doorway, pleading with his eyes even if he kept his mouth shut for once. Happy to play salon, she invited him in and smiled when he picked out a lavender polish.

When she heard soft violin music, smooth and practised, coming from down the hallway, Allison couldn’t help but call out to her sister. If Dad was away then they didn’t have to shut her out the way they normally did, there was no one to remind them she was different, and she should get to share the little moment of fun they were carving out for themselves. The music stopped and, after a moment, footsteps padded down the hall. She chose a white bottle and shyly presented her hands.

Ben was the next sibling to find his way in, undoubtedly looking for Klaus. When offered a colour for his nails, he almost refused. It would almost certainly get them into trouble if their father found out, but Klaus was nothing if not enthusiastically encouraging and Ben supposed getting dragged along wouldn’t be too bad for a change. He pointed to a dark blue bottle and sat patiently.

Luther stuck his head in to see what all the fuss was about, surprised to see so many of the Academy in one room. Had anyone else been the one to ask, he’d never have agreed to it but he’d do anything to make Allison smile so he let her choose a red varnish for his nails and didn’t hate it quite as much as he’d expected to.

With most of them now lounging around Allison’s bedroom waiting for their nails to dry so they didn’t cover the house in wet polish, it made sense that Five would eventually appear in his usual disconcerting way – there in the doorway one second when it had been empty the moment before. He couldn’t think of a good reason to refuse Allison, Vanya and Klaus’ requests that he join in and, since Ben and Luther didn’t seem too harrowed by the experience, he sat himself down and selected a dark green polish.

Diego turned up fresh from a speech therapy lesson with Mom, curious about the giggles coming from the room at the end of the hall. It was a strange scene to stumble upon. His siblings seemed, in a rare moment of peace, to actually resemble friends, if not a family. Klaus was begging Allison to paint his toes with a rainbow of colours, Ben was holding a conversation with Luther, Vanya was involved with the rest of them and actually smiling, for once. It was a tableau he wanted to be part of. So, after putting up a front of protest, he sat opposite Allison and requested the blackest polish she had.