theseancekid

[theseancekid]

anyway all this talk about the eclipse has got me thinking again about how Klaus was literally supposed to save the entire world from the moon crashing into earth :)

#FUCK THE SHOW FOR NERFING HIS POWERS HE SHOULD'VE SAVED THE WORLD

[theseancekid]

damn. sorry work and life and other fic projects are kicking my ass rn but I spent a literal hour reading through my meta tag and I miss Klaus so much.

#:( #no matter what. Klaus will ALWAYS be my boy

[theseancekid]

friendly reminder that this is a roleplay blog and that the content I post is not meant for widespread fandom blogging.

#that's my bad for forgetting to disable the reblogs on my posts like that's on me #i have a fandom sideblog where i post fandom stuff and meta! please head over to @codenameseance for rebloggable stuff! #i'm not a fandom blog though so please stop tagging me in discussions about the prop auction!

[theseancekid]

@twicecut sent: "Klaus, I'm serious. You know I don't mind you crashing here, but you can't bring that shit with you." Diego crossed his arms with the kind of disappointment and finality that brokered no argument. "Al lets me stay here 'cause he knows I'm gonna respect the place. And I'm letting you stay here 'cause you're my brother and I'm counting on you to respect it too."

"Oh, come ON!" Arms flail out to either side of him as he stomps his foot against the concrete. He doesn't know how else to hold the emotions— he knows he looks like a petulant child but god damn it, he's too tired to hold his head up, to embody any shred of seriousness or decorum as he stares past his brother's scowl and into his shitty little apartment. It's so close, yet so far away. If he could just sit down in his corner and rest his eyes, just for a minute...

"I'm being totally respectful— YOU'RE the one being an asshole right now!"

Despite his exhaustion, the rage somehow burns brighter. It tends to do that around Diego, maybe he'd picked it up from his dearest brother in the first place. If he could move without losing his balance, he'd give his brother a proper smack. If he had the words, he'd tell him that he's not gonna DO anything, he knows better than to use here, and besides, he's already fucked up, he's got nowhere else to go, this is his last resort, and I'm your BROTHER, god damn it, why can't you just give me a fucking break?!

"Diego, c'mon man, you know I can't...I can't.."

I need them.

Trembling hands dive into his jacket pockets, grab at the little baggies and roll the pills between his fingers, counting each one over and over again just to make sure they're still there. He's not ready to give it up, not yet. The comedown was so terrible last time, and he's not going to make the mistake of asking for rehab money again, and the shelter won't take him if he's not clean and it's so fucking cold and he's so fucking tired, god, if he could just stop shaking and—

"Please." His voice cracks on it's way out of his throat. It sounds foreign to him. Too soft, too scared, too familiar to that little boy locked away in the mausoleum.

"Please."

#*【 ☂ ┊ ❛ Better find another superstition ❜ 】 ➤ Answered #SOBINGGGGGGGG #;tw. addiction

[theseancekid]

It's muscle memory by now, the way Klaus trots down the stairs, kicks off his shoes and shrugs his coat over in the corner that he'd claimed for himself back when Diego had first moved into this place. He knows, technically, that this isn't his home. He doesn't pay rent, he doesn't have a bed, he can't even remember the street address, if he's being honest. But there's a relief that washes over him each time he steps foot in the door and knows he can rest just for a little while.

And there is comfort, too, in his brother's rage. It's become one of the only constants in his life, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't prefer it this way. The gruff, manly apathy may work for Batman, but Diego Hargreeves does much better when he's fueled by his resentment.

And to be fair, Klaus holds the same sentiments. Hell, the only bigger slap in the face than airing a novel about his childhood trauma and descent into addiction was to put the damn book out and make him read it from inside the fucking rehab clinic. What a dick move! His back still hurts from sitting hunched over in that terrible plastic clinic chair, eyes straining under the harsh florescent lights as

"Yeah, maybe it was for attention," Klaus shrugs as he heads straight for the fridge to take a little look-see-loo. "But I think she mostly wanted to take Dad down. We were just collateral damage. Like, she doesn't even have an ending to the damn story because she doesn't know what the fuck we're doing! I could've died before this shit was printed and she never would'a known."

He plucks the carton of milk from the fridge and takes a swig straight out as he watches his brother chuck his knife, landing a blow right next to their sister's face.

"She didn't even get it right. I— she wasn't even there, on the mission when Ben... when Ben..." There's a tightness in his throat all of a sudden and he tries to swallow it down, but it won't go away.

"She didn't get it right. I was there."

          All Klaus gets is grunt of acknowledgement as they step into the boiler room. Diego's bristling like a dog, has been since getting that stupid package in the mail, wrapped up in brown paper and string like some sort of fucking Christmas present. He'd been shocked to see the face of little Number Seven staring back up at him when he opened it--he hadn't even known Vanya had been writing a book, hadn't talked to her in years--and for a beat, he'd almost been ashamed that his initial reaction had been to roll his eyes at what seemed like another reach for the fame she'd never been given. Like, okay, the self-portrait on the front cover was kinda... egocentric, maybe, and the title "EXTRA ORDINARY" kitschy and smacked of something sour and pointed that rubbed him just a little the wrong way. But, hey. It was Vanya. Their sister. It was weird, but a nice gesture, he guessed.

          Then he'd read the first page. And the next. And soon he'd finished a chapter, and another, and another, until pretty soon he'd read the whole goddamn thing in a single sitting. He'd not been able to stop, and not because dear Number Seven was some secret savant of a novelist.

          Vanya Hargreeves was a traitor.

          "C'mon. Vanya had the balls to send us one and we've never been best buddies," Diego grumbles, unfastening his harness. "She published all that shit for attention, you know. She cries in her little tell-all about how left out she was from Dad's torture sessions and gets all the pity. Meanwhile she makes us look like assholes."

          He's careful in how he removes each treasured knife from its sheath, but if Klaus looks closely, he might see that his brother's hands are shaking. Vanya had left precious few details out about their lives, happy to broadcast everything from night terrors and childhood bed-wetting to tabloid-esque judgement of Luther and Allison and the raw grief felt after Ben's death. Diego isn't sure what's worse: that Vanya hadn't consulted any of them before airing out all their dirty laundry, or that she'd clearly was airing it out just to spite them.

          "Of course Dad knows." Diego hunches over the tiny kitchen counter. His knuckles are tight, flexing around the knife. "She probably sent a copy to all of us just t-to-to-to--"           F U C K.           Diego jerks and slings the knife directly into the bookshelf behind him. It, the knife, burrows into the wood, missing Vanya's book by half an inch. He'd not been aiming for it, but glaring at it now, reminded it's there, he wishes he had been.

#twicecut #can't believe neither one of their backs have broken with the amount of Baggage they're carrying smh

[theseancekid]

thinking about the fact that klaus keeps his drugs in a little unicorn purse along with *checks notes* senior citizen bus passes, a video store membership card, multiple business cards from multiple different attorneys, a pawn card, and a purple snakeskin wallet.

#and not to Go Off but this is why s1 will always be better than any of the other seasons #like in s3 when they all pulled out whatever was in their pockets and klaus just pulled out a bunch of condoms #like idk it was funny i guess but like. THIS IS SO MUCH MORE KLAUS #the fucking SENIOR BUS PASS #the attorney business cards!!!!! #i'm actually so upset i missed the props auction LMAO i absolutely would have bid on this stupid fucking unicorn i love it so much

[theseancekid]

Oh my god what you just reblogged!! Manfred is officially questioning if he has a brother or sister or sibling he doesn't know about. 🤔🥺

asrldhjafnljhdb wait I saw this when you sent it the other day and then completely forgot to reply but listen if manfred is part-demon he HAS to have other random spawn siblings out there....and STILL manfred is the weirdest and the gayest <3

#love that for him <3

[theseancekid]

Hi Sharks, I'm asking for $250,000 for drugs and alcohol.

#yeah

[theseancekid]

Local Violinist Talks Shit, Gets Hit (©)

#bringing this back because of Reasons #i miss making fake press edits LOL they were so much fun #;my edits

[theseancekid]

The sarcasm, actually, is a welcome comfort. That seems to be the only way they know how to communicate these days, in the murky grey space between bitchy backhanded comments and genuine concern. Honestly, that's for the best; he's just itching for a good fight right about now— anything to distract from the pins and needles prickling all under his skin.

And it feels good, too, to watch the expression shift on Viktor's face when Klaus lands his blow about the book. Lord knows that one's been sitting on the back burner for years, just simmering away. There's a hell of a lot more he'd like to say, actually, but then his brother replies and Klaus can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it.

"Nice?! You want me to be nice to you?"

He picks at his cuticle, taps his toes, and exhales a long breath as he lets the words sink into him.

I WAS NICE! he wants to scream. I was nice, and look where it got me! I was nice and Dad still locked me in that mausoleum! I was nice, and it didn't bring Ben back! I was nice and I was soft, and all I wanted was to grow out of all the rot and the death, but that's all I've ever known!

Pressing the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, he inhales a shaky breath and shakes his head, as if it might make the tears go back into his eyes.

"Y'know, it always cracks me up when people say that." Running his hands down the front of his face, he locks onto his brother and lets the manic energy drain into something colder, something sharper.

"It's not that you didn't have anything at all, Viktor, you're just too pissy about being perfectly fucking normal! I haven't slept in a bed that I've owned...in thirteen years. I haven't had more than $20 to my name in thirteen years. I didn't even think we'd be having this conversation when I left home thirteen years ago, because I was planning on dying somewhere coked out of my mind by the time I reached twenty. So actually, brother dearest, until you wake up every day with corpses screaming in your ears, I'm, like, super not interested in having a whose life sucks more contest!"

HE WAS STEWING. klaus could deny it all he wanted but it was clear to viktor. what seemed to be hard to understand in the hargreeves household was that stewing was allowed. all range of emotion should be. instead all of them seemed to cower in the face of their own feelings. trying to find corners of the house you could sweep them into. somewhere that their father wouldn't find.

there's a sullen smile on viktor's features, "must have been mistaken then." the sarcasm dripped out but it did;t seem to dampen the steam that rolled off of klaus. if anything they were sure that it would annoy them more. viktor supposed that if he couldn't help that. it was the nature of brotherhood and despite his best efforts viktor's always seemed to pick a painful spot to press.

there's a look of surprise on his features. it always seemed to come back to the book. he wondered if any of them had read it. viktor hoped that if they had his siblings would have seen it was a plea. a testament to his loneliness and isolation. how desperately he could crave to be apart of something bigger only to be pushed to the side.

"if you want people to stick around maybe you should be nicer. not steal from them." it's low, but that's where they are shooting now. "you all had lives to carry on after the academy. acting, protecting the moon, partying," he gestured to klaus, "i didn't have anything at all." their lips pressed into a thin line. "aren't we all just doing what we have to to get by?"

#frightes

[theseancekid]

anyway. thinking about that headcanon I posted 5 years ago when I was first thinking about Klaus and his hospital tags, and that the reason I think he keeps them on most of the time even when he's out of the facility, is so that if/when he eventually dies on the street, they'll be able to ID his body :(

Ooooooooh I'm in trouble. I'm going to spend the next several weeks meticulously archiving and analyzing every single one of the details from all the Umbrella Academy props that were put up for auction here.

#he doesn't carry any other form of ID and he knows his brother listens to the police scanners every time a dead guy pops up #he wouldn't want anyone to go through the trouble of IDing him so he just keeps the bracelet #:( big sad

[theseancekid]

I’m just someone’s weird and gay brother

#yeah.

[theseancekid]

[sigh] I just think s2 of the umbrella academy missed the mark in such a big way with Klaus' arc, but they were also so close. Like, I know the gag behind the cult was that the whole thing was created on accident, but genuinely they could have gone with a plot that was still light and funny and had Klaus involved in hippie counter culture, only instead of leading a wack-ass cult with no meaning, it could have been a historically accurate plot revolving around the anti-war movement, as Klaus grapples with his grief over Dave

#hippies were fun and had a cool aesthetic but it was also like. a genuine political counterculture movement!!! #sometimes i'm just minding me own business and get randomly seized by a burning hatred for tua s2 LOL

[theseancekid]

He'd only really meant to grab one or two things at first. This whole thing was Allison's fault, actually— her teddy bear fashion show was so painfully vanilla, of course Klaus had taken it upon himself to show her how it's done. All he needed was a nice pair of shoes, but then Grace's dresses were just sitting there and, well, it's not like she's going to need them right this minute anyway, right? They had been so pretty and so soft on his skin, and even with the fabric pooling at his feet and falling over his bony shoulders, the minute Klaus had slipped into the blushing rose pink, he felt...beautiful. Beautiful! Like the kind of fancy people he saw in the old movies, all classy and smart and rich and important. And he feels gentler in this, too, like he's supposed to be having tea instead of fighting crime.

It's perhaps the first time after having picked his name, where he feels like himself.

The sudden swinging of the closet door makes him yelp. He flounders for a moment, losing balance in the big clunky heels, but as soon as he feels himself start to tip, her hands are on him with the instincts of a mother and the precision of a machine.

"I wasn't stealing, I was going to give them back!" He squeals when he's scolded. He hates being accused of stealing— especially when he's actually innocent.

If he looks closely he can see the lenses in her eyeballs adjust, and it's...terrifying, actually, to be caught like this. It's one thing to look at himself in the mirror, but he wonders what his mother sees, if she thinks he looks ugly or stupid or all wrong. He clutches the dress to his chest, tries to pull it up to cover his bare shoulders, but then Grace is speaking to him in that soft voice, and she hands him something pretty and green and— oh.

Oh, he likes the look of the green dress, even before he scrambles out of his pink one. It's a different fabric than the others— vibrant green with a ruff along the bottom and pearl detailing. The minute she helps him slip his arms through the holes he knows this dress was meant for him.

"Mom, mom, take a picture of me! Take a picture, mom! Look, I'm so pretty!" He beams at her as she steps back to look at him, standing tall and proud and—

The whistle from downstairs is shattering.

On a normal day it might strike some dread in his chest, perhaps a healthy dose of anger at his father. But today the whistle feels like a devastating blow— it's more than the training, it's the cruel and never-ending reminder that his life is totally and completely controlled by a man who never even gave him the dignity of a name.

"No." He says, and he stomps his foot inside his mother's heel. "No, I'm not going. You can't make me."

@theseancekid sent: 27﹕ sender is caught wearing receiver's clothes . (for GRACE lmfao!)

Nonverbal Prompts Meme || Accepting

"Oh Klaus!" Grace exclaimed when she opened the closet door to find him there, all knees and elbows, clad in one of her pink dresses and staggering slightly as he stood in her heels. The dress engulfed the skinny legs he was still growing into, and he'd struggled with zipping it, so it hung loose over his shoulders. Grace swept into the space with a bright smile. "Klaus, you need to ask before using other people's things," she admonished gently. "Come now, this isn't your color at all, let's get this one off, okay? Arms up." Moments later she was pressing a vibrant green dress into Klaus' arms. "Here, this one will match your complexion better, but we'll need to pick different shoes-" she plucked a pair from the upper shelf, "-Perfect. Do be careful not to slip over in them, you can hold my hand for balance. Perhaps we can ask Mr. Hargreeves about getting you children a weekend wardrobe." Unlikely. But she remained ever positive.

"Oh yes," she said, clapping her hands together and nodding appreciatively at her child. "You look positively darling! We should find a scarf-"

From one of the rooms a sharp bell rang out.

"Oh." Grace's smile fell for a moment before she snatched it back into place. "It looks like you kids have training to do. Time to get changed."

#moonbeammuses #oh my god i'm so sorry i didn't mean for this reply to be so long LMAO #i love them so much though oh my god this is so WHOLESOME

[theseancekid]

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR PHOTOS OF KLAUS' HOSPITAL TAG FOR FIVE FUCKING YEARS NOW

Ooooooooh I'm in trouble. I'm going to spend the next several weeks meticulously archiving and analyzing every single one of the details from all the Umbrella Academy props that were put up for auction here.

#this is my white whale #oh my god #the holy grail #this is such a nerdy thing but i really just wanted to know the name of the hospital for Writing Purposes #and also the unit?? it says here that it's regular ER? not any rehab clinic or anything

[theseancekid]

Ooooooooh I'm in trouble. I'm going to spend the next several weeks meticulously archiving and analyzing every single one of the details from all the Umbrella Academy props that were put up for auction here.

#I'M PISSED I MISSED THE AUCTION i legit would've paid good money for the klaus hand tattoo stamps lmfao #right now i'm CACKLING over the contents of klaus' Unicorn Drug Pouch from s1e9 holy fuck #he's got a senior citizen bus pass and 3 business cards from different attorneys and a bunch of pawn tickets #I LOVE HIM SO DEARLY LMFAO THESE ARE SUCH GREAT DETAILS

[theseancekid]

@wasntfair

"Lucky for the both of us, I don't mind a little slapping around," Klaus tosses a wink in Dave's direction when he speaks of his mother.

As he stretches for his lighter on the nightstand, he wonders about Dave's childhood— was it nice, having a mother who taught you how to behave? Was she too strict, or was all the slapping done out of love? Does Dave have her eyes, her hair, her smile?

My dad didn't upload contemporary slang into my mom's language programming software, he wants to say. She never smacked me. I think the only time she ever touched me was when she performed oral surgery to snap my jaw back in place when I was twelve.

But he doesn't say any of that, just takes a drag of his cigarette and gives a cocky, narrow-eyed smile when Dave asks how he's feeling. What a gentleman!

"Well, I mean, I'm not plannin' on runnin' a marathon or anything." He reaches over to place a hand on Dave's knee, scratching back and forth lightly with his nails.

"But what if I told you...I kinda like it? Y'know, I like feelin' sore. I like the bruises, and the aches, and the scrapes. I like knowing they're there, even when we gotta get dressed and deal with everything out there, I like thinkin' about you every goddamn second of every goddamn day."

his cheeks flare a firey red at the other's language before a delighted laugh escapes the soldier. ❛ my momma would've slapped the smile right off your face for saying stuff like that. ❜ growing up in texas was certainly different than wherever klaus had been raised. dave hadn't said his first curse word until he was a teen in high school , &* it had been a dare. HE ALWAYS FEELS LIKE HE'S BREAKING ALL THE RULES EVER LAID DOWN IN HIS LIFE WHEN HE'S WITH KLAUS. that was half the fun , though. living a double life , all the way across the world from his family. they'd never know of this. ❛ she would've smacked you for a lot'ta the stuff you do , to be fair. but the mouth would'a been the first strike. ❜

he looks over at him with a fond little smile , blue eyes gentle as they roam his lover. ❛ how are you feeling , speaking of surfaces ? i can't imagine goin' as long as we did was ... comfortable ? ❜ ever the gentleman.

#wasntfair #whoops this is late sorry LMAO