Robert Sheehan as Klaus Hargreeves in The Umbrella Academy (2019-)

“She was not fragile like a flower; She was fragile like a bomb.”

— Poetry At Most (via ofsvnsets)

→ Marlene McKinnon, potential futures; I survived but I p a i d for it

In a canon-divergent turn of events, Marlene McKinnon survives the war, but did not escape unscathed. The only of her family not to be killed, she decidedly escapes back to Paris to start fresh; it worked as a reprieve once before, surely it could do the same now. It’s there she grappled her darkness until eventually finding the light. Then, rediscovering the childhood plan of going pro Marlene gets recruited by a Quidditch team and begins her life anew; somewhere along the line she ends up pregnant, though she never goes into the details and instead raises her daughter with leather and motorcycles and magic and Quidditch, far away from all the loss she suffered so young.

isaac.

The idea that his brother’s future still hung in the balance left a consistent feeling of unease in his stomach. He was going to feel sick until the moment his brother woke up. He had already gone through this, yet it felt completely foreign all over again. The worry was new, as if this was the first time he’d dealt with these feelings. No matter how much he had dealt with and felt, there was nothing that could prepare him for what was going through his mind at the moment. Nothing could prepare him for how he was going to tell his parents that he had yet again not been the one to find his sibling, and this time, survival still was not guaranteed. But Ed was still alive, and he had to hold on to the hope, another foreign concept to him in terms of the war, that the younger man would pull through. And the hope that this would be one of the last times he had to set foot in this wretched place.

Isaac looked at the younger girl as if he was really seeing her for the first time, now for what the war had done to her. Obviously he knew her, and they were on the same side of many of fights, but he realised he didn’t know her as well as he should. Not as well as Ed or Amelia knew her. And Merlin she was so young. Far too young to have gone through a fraction of what she had. No one her age should be in the position to lead a charge like she had. No one his age should have to be in charge of it. And yet, here he was, thanking a girl so much younger than him for being the one to save his brother. The thought, hitting him like a blow to the gut, made him feel sick. Despite considering his siblings to be kids still, he had not thought about the others their age as kids. Barely out of school, and fighting for their lives. Fighting something that, at her age, should be beyond her. And yet, she was a survivor.

“”Of course you don’t deserve it. None of us do. The only ones that do are the bastards responsible,” he replied, knowing the minute it came out that it wouldn’t help a thing. But he needed to say it, not specifically to her, but just in order to get it off his chest. To take the weight off of his shoulders as he held it in. Words weren’t ever the easiest for him, by any stretch of the imagination. Even with his family, it was seemingly getting harder to open up to them. Shaking his head ever so slightly, he got himself out of his own place. Her response froze him in place for a moment. He’d made the offer off the cuff, out of ingrained courtesy, and her reaction was certainly not one that he had anticipated. “I-I didn’t mean to…” He cut himself off, knowing neither of them probably wanted to hear that. “It’s not a debt, it’s just an offer. And anyway, the it still stands, should you need it. We all need to watch each other’s backs after all.”

St. Mungo’s brought back a gamut of bad memories, there was no getting around that. While the Healers had done miracles in restoring Marlene to something that could vaguely resemble who she had once been, the hospital as a whole was a disastrous reminder of shitty things. First that after her recovery, the only family that had cared enough to be there was Marcus. Then, that when the Ministry had been overthrown, her father had nearly died; that night Marlene had dragged him to the hospital only to have to pull him out, away from the never ending duels. Even though the hospital had been rebuilt now, there was no getting around the bitter reminders, and Marlene doubted it would ever change. It was hard not to be selfishly jealous now, regardless of the circumstances; Edgar was safe and alive, a fact she had played part in. That was the important factor in all of this, and yet, there was the bitter stinging realization that the Bones family was more connected than the McKinnons ever would be. Feeling any sort of jealousy over that was equal parts unfounded and unfair, and yet, Marlene couldn’t manage to shake it. 

She was forced to swallow her pride, and whatever other selfish means of thought. Not everything was about Marlene McKinnon, and she had always known that; made a fact to try and live that way especially since her own salvation. The less attention she attracted now, as a loon and alcoholic, the better. All people saw her as now was a disappointment, anyways; James taking her side and all the brazen choices in the world didn’t change that. Marlene was viciously out of touch with her emotions, and reality on most days, but it was better that way. Easier to manage whatever was left of her existence, the survival that everyone kept telling her she was lucky to have. How Amelia had carried on after a year of torture, the redheaded witch had no idea; part of her hated that she now was responsible for whatever memories Edgar had to live with. But it was better for him to be home than to die in a hole. Was this what her own rescue mission had felt like? Was it the other side of the abduction? If it was, Marlene wasn’t sure she liked it, feeling like a damned hypocrite when her thoughts were already difficult enough.

“’M sure I deserved it more than other people. At least Edgar. Don’t worry, I’m not lookin’ for pity or anything, it’s just what it is.” Marlene shrugged. She held her feelings and memories of what war had done to her close enough that nobody else could see. They were safer that way, at least that was what she told herself; Florence thought she was self-destructive, and maybe it was true. But Marlene didn’t see any reason to let anyone else suffer her own misery with her. Isaac’s words struck a cord, whether in a good or bitter way she wasn’t sure. If it came to the bastards that had hurt her, she would agree. It would be easier if they were dead, incapable of hurting anyone else; but they were in power now, leading the Ministry through bullshit regimes that any act against seemed to cause more problems through. “Don’t worry about it, I didn’t figure you meant it that way.” She promised, shrugging with the words. She didn’t know how to do this, accept thanks for something any of them could have done. Maybe she was trying to level her karma, or quiet the voices. Whatever it was, Marlene didn’t really want to know. “But thanks. You could just buy me a drink sometime or somethin’ and I’d call it even,” the words came out as more of a joke than Marlene meant for it to, but accepting anything well-intended to her felt foreign. “I’m kiddin’ mostly. The thanks was genuine.”

the blame game | && marlene

hestia.

“I really hope you are. The world’s a dark and quiet place without Marlene McKinnon. And even if you don’t feel like yourself, I know you’re still in there. Even if that version of yourself is different, you’re still you, and that’s really all that we all can hope for.” She meant it in as positive a way that she possibly could, but Hestia knew that her words might not come across that way. Marlene was always vibrant, no matter how she was feeling. She just didn’t want to watch Marlene use that energy for self-destruction instead of committing to rebuilding herself and staying strong. Then again, staying strong looked different for different people. Not everyone saw strength as returning to the person they once were. Perhaps this was the kind of strength that Marlene could muster – at least for now. And if that was the case, it would have to be enough. “Fine. I will. Give me a list, and I’ll go person to person, name by name. I’m a firm believer that if you were brutal to them, they probably kept bothering you until you felt they deserved it.” Marlene was vibrant, yes, but she was also dynamic. Anything she did, she seemed to do at one thousand percent. That was yet another thing that Hestia appreciated about her friend. “It’s not embarrassing. It’s the truth, isn’t it? But I’m sorry you feel that way. If it makes you feel any better, you’ll have to do a whole lot more for me to not like you anymore.” Hestia gave her friend her biggest, most friendly grin to prove it. “I’ll try my best. Even if I don’t always want to. I just never thought I’d be in the position where I’d have to ask my friends for a lead on a job. I always thought I’d be able to make my own way, to create a position for myself if one wasn’t there already. I kind of feel like I’m relying on everyone else to keep myself afloat… and… it’s not a great feeling, y’know?”

The world’s a dark place without Marlene McKinnon. For some unidentifiable reason, the words struck a cord deep within the woman, hitting closer to home than she could have expected. For months, maybe longer really, she had managed to convince herself that nobody would truly notice were she never to have come back from Paris. It was easier there, around people that didn’t know her horrific past, when she was able to pretend to be someone else. All the shags and the food and booze had been a distraction she welcomed with great ease, and coming back had been a brutalizing shock. “Well,” Marlene paused, clearing her throat. How was she supposed to respond? Anything she said that might show how Hestia’s kindness affected her would sound cheesy and like utter bullshit. “Thank you.” She nodded, chapped lips curving upwards slightly. “I hope you’re right. I’ve been havin’ some trouble believing it myself.”

A single eyebrow raised in amusement then, hearing Hestia’s proposal. Despite every interaction they'd ever had in school, and afterwards, it was hard to remember the last time they had spent time together like this. They were friends, weren’t they? At least, as much as Marlene could be friends with anyone. She hoped so, if nothing else; it was getting lonely, isolating herself every possible moment from anyone around her, regardless of whether or not she deserved it. “That’d be a damn long list, Jones.” She laughed again, feeling a surge of appreciation in that moment. It was a strange sensation, something that Marlene had grown very unfamiliar with in recent months, but for at least right now she didn’t want to force it down just yet. “You’re a good friend, y’know.” She nodded, hoping that Hestia could believe it. Even if Marlene McKinnon herself had no idea what it meant to be one, she wasn’t quite far gone enough to forget what it meant in others. “I thought by now I’d have gone pro in Quidditch. And I wouldn’t be scared’a my own shadow,” Marlene offered, letting out a breathy, bitter laugh as she spoke. 

“’Course, it’s not the same. Me livin’ in three different places, being mad as a damn hatter isn’t anythin’ like what’s happened to you. But you’re better than all this shite, Hestia. Eventually the world’s gonna see it.” Giving a pep talk to someone felt foreign, and almost unnatural, despite the fact Marlene had done it more than once in Hogwarts. 

late nights | marlene and hestia

→ Marlene McKinnon, potential futures; darling, dearest, d e a d

following book canon, Marlene McKinnon dies in the war. the entire McKinnon family is taken out at once in the summer of 1980. in CRT canon, with the knowledge that Marlene is following an intense path of self-destruction and the feeling that she doesn’t deserve a happy ending, it’s not far out of the realm of possibility unless somehow she begins to feel saved, that Marlene will find a bitter end before the war is finished.

She was not soft. She smelled like cigarettes, leather, and ground black coffee. And when you inhaled, she burned your lungs the way that made you want to do it again. She was danger, and you wanted her.

florence.

As much as it pained Florence to see her friend snap, she knew that it was a long time coming. There was only so much that any one person could hold in, and Marlene… she was holding in more than Florence could imagine keeping to herself. Even as a mostly private person, she knew that sharing her experiences with others was important. It had to be done, even if it was difficult to do. So even though it wasn’t pleasant to be on the receiving end of Marlene’s anger, Florence was, in a way, relieved. The girl had to release all of that pent up anger at some point. It was probably better that it was towards Florence than if it was directed at someone else. But at the same time, she could tell that it wasn’t easy for her younger friend to let it out. Marlene’s hands were curled into fists, her frustration visible on her face. “Because it isn’t right, me making assumptions about you. Your life. Your family.” It took a lot of restraint not to fight back, to call out Marlene for the way her words were just as hurtful as anything that Florence might’ve said herself. But doing that wouldn’t do any good. There wasn’t much that could do any good. Not in this situation, anyway. “I might not know everything there is to know about how you grew up, but I know enough to criticize it. If I step out of line, or if I say anything that hurts you, I trust that you know me well enough to call me out on it. If I don’t know something, tell me. I can’t be the best friend I can be, or make the best difference I can if I don’t learn, right? Tell me. Show me. If I’m not meeting some standard you have, you have to tell me. I can’t read your mind and change just because you think I’m in the wrong, Marlene. That’s not a fair expectation to put on me.” It sounded more like she was pleading with her friend than having a discussion, and in some ways, Florence was. “Admitting it might not feel great, but it’s healthier than being an alcoholic. I’m worried about you, Marlene. Really, I am.”

It was getting harder to convince herself that she wasn’t truly going mad. That all of the things she had survived, and every moment since salvation, hadn’t finally pushed Marlene McKinnon over the brink of stability and into complete emotional turbulence, from which there couldn’t be any return. If she had, surely it wouldn’t serve as any great surprise to anybody; the whispers about poor Marlene had been making rounds for over a year. Nobody had expected her to come back alive and when she had, everyone watched her warily from a distance. Marcus may have screamed and fought with the Healers that kept him away from his sister, while she sat in chosen isolation so that nobody would see her cry, but that didn’t stop the rumors. Gossip had spread, false articles were printed. She was marked as mad, and while for awhile it had been funny, Marlene knew there was only so much she could do to mask that gruesome truth.

Florence’s words stung, and it wasn’t from any intent on the witch’s part. The logical part of Marlene knew that, reminded her that Florence Wilson was a friend and didn’t deserve her emotions to be shown in such hateful ways. Nobody but Marlene herself really deserved to be faced with her emotions; they were dark and they were volatile, and easier stamped out with alcohol and ignorance than faced head on. Facing her thoughts and learning to heal from what had happened to her was, more than likely, the healthier option. But it would hurt, and it would be brutal, and Marlene was too good at brutalizing herself without extending it to anybody else. Suddenly she was very aware of how tightly her nails were clawing into her palms, but she didn’t trust herself to loosen her fists; the stinging was a reminder of what she felt, when she so often felt out of touch from it all. “I’m sorry.” She spoke quietly after a moment, the words feeling like venom down her throat as she said them. Marlene could never apologize easily, even before the war. But she didn’t know what else to say; calling others out on their bullshit was a talent, but explaining the way Death Eaters viewed enemies was painful in ways only the other unlucky few to have survived them could understand. To Aversio and those involved like Florence, they were weapons, but much else. It was a stinging, probably unfair realization to have, but it was almost impossible to see it another way.

“I’d rather be numb from whiskey than agonized over things I can’t forget.” Marlene admitted a moment too late, her voice wavering with the words. She had never talked about what had happened to her and would be happy to sooner keep it that way. But Florence had somehow cracked open the wall, even if only slightly, and considering she had just yelled at one of the only friends she had, Marlene didn’t have it in her to be a complete and utter bitch again. Not yet. Hazel eyes swiveled toward the cracked walls for a moment, focusing on nothing in particular to try and hide the stinging behind them now. “Maybe ‘s weak, but it’s a hell of a lot easier.”

“. . . that’s Marlene McKinnon. She was killed two weeks after this was taken. They got her whole family.”

mercury: who's your go-to person when you need to talk?

“Marcus. Or Xen.” 

“Can’t say I have one.”

Kind heart

Fierce mind

Brave spirit 

hestia.

“If it’s that much of an ego boost, I’ll say it again. I like seeing you smile.” Hestia kept her own smile on her face, knowing that it would be easier for her friend to keep in a lighthearted mood if she appeared to be in one herself. “You laughing and smiling when we talk is enough of an ego boost in itself. But it’s good to hear you’ve still got some of yours. Sometimes I worry that you’ve lost some of that spark. Not that I’d blame you – just… it’d be a shame if you did.” She ran a hand through her hair. She didn’t feel like she had much of an ego to boost these days. Now, more than ever, she was feeling down about herself, and it was getting more and more difficult to find something to make herself happy. “Being a bitch isn’t always a bad thing,” Hestia shrugged. There were times when it was helpful. Or that being a bitch just felt good. “Any time. Seriously. That’s what friends are for, and you’re not shaking my friendship any time soon. No matter what.” It would take a lot more than what they’d already been through to stop them from being friends. “I was trying to be nice about it, that’s all,” she laughed again, knowing that Marlene was right about Xenophilius. She’d heard the rumors, read some of his writing. ‘Out there’ was a generous description at best. “Okay, so I might not owe you, technically, but as your friend, I’ll still try and be nice and generous to you in return. Out of the kindness that’s somehow left in my heart,” Hestia grinned. “I really appreciate you reaching out to him. I feel kind of… embarrassed, asking for help and everything. I never thought I’d be in this position. Y’know. Fired, asking my friends to ask their friends to hire me…”

It felt almost like a stab to the chest to hear Hestia say that. There were clearly no cruel intentions behind it, she was only trying to be nice. But it felt brutal all the same; had she really become so far gone? It seemed that no matter how hard Marlene tried to pretend everything was fine, that she was okay, that her adjustment period after the torment had long since passed, it didn’t do any good. She was still drowning every night regardless of what she tried, and it was evident that now she was dragging her friends down with her. It was evident why she tried to push them out. “Suppose I’m still in here somewhere, eh?” She asked, trying to maintain the lighthearted nature of their conversation and not show how much it had affected her. Marlene wanted to believe it, that she existed somewhere still, whether she felt it or not through the facade she held up.

“Tell that to anyone that’s ever had to be around me bein’ a bitch. Apparently I’m brutal.” Marlene shrugged, barking out a small laugh of satisfaction. She was wildfire and she knew it, but it had always felt good, even before it became a desperate defense mechanism. Hearing Hestia’s next words brought a small smile back to her chapped lips, “’s embarrassing how good that is to hear. With everything I’ve done, people don’t seem to like me anymore.” She admitted. It wasn’t as painful as it had been in the beginning, and Marlene knew that Aversio and all else was something that took time -- at least that was what she kept being told. It sounded like bullshit more than anything else. Rolling her eyes, she scoffed at the insinuation. Xen was as bizarre as they came, but he was a good friend, more than that even. Nobody else had been quite as close after her recovery (in part of her own doing, she knew) but it was hard to forget all the same. “I’d hope you use the kindness of your heart for all it’s worth, not even just on me.” Marlene promised with a grin, shaking her head. “Ya shouldn’t feel embarrassed. Anyone worth anythin’ should be smart enough to realize you didn't deserve bein’ exiled from your job like that.”

late nights | marlene and hestia

amelia.

Amelia considered it for a moment. Deep down she knew that her physical presence in the hospital wasn’t actually doing anything to aid her brother’s recovery, but she didn’t want him to wake up alone. It would just be her luck that he’d wake up as soon as she left. She was also well aware that she was going stir crazy and driving the healers up the wall. 

Maybe there was a compromise? “What if we just…sat outside? Not really leaving, but not actually drinking in the hospital?” she suggested. “Get the fresh air the healers keep suggesting because I don’t think their actually allowed to tell me to fuck off, but we’ll still be able to come right in when he wakes up.” 

It wasn’t a perfect plan by any stretch of the imagination. There were rules about drinking in public, especially if one intended to get smashed, but it had to be better than the alternative. 

“The healers might even thank you… a few shots will probably help me relax and make me slightly less insufferable and demanding.” 

If Marlene was a better person, she wouldn’t be encouraging anyone else to fall into the alcohol-induced state of quasi-stability that she lived inside of. She would do more to fight the voices in her head or isolate herself from the person she had been before. Everything seemed to be that way: before and after. Before the war, before Aversio, before the kidnapping. . .the list seemed never-ending. The cycle continued whether she admitted to it or not, and despite her efforts to clean up and move forward, there was no moving forward. Because Marlene McKinnon wasn’t a better person, at least not anymore. The girl she had been was gone, and no matter how hard she fought that truth, and how badly everyone seemed desperate to believe it, she wasn’t coming back.

The hospital was a place of comfort for many people. At least, that seemed to be the common belief -- having the healers and St. Mungo’s meant that recovery was on its way. What a load of bull. There was no such thing as recovery, at least not in any sense past physically. Not for Marlene, and from the wild look she saw flash through Amelia’s eyes every so often, not for her either. Some things couldn’t be fixed and pieced back together into some bright and shiny package. It was fucking pessimistic, and Marlene knew it. But being in the hospital was bringing up all sorts of shitty memories and bad feelings, and ignoring that was exhausting.

“Eh, if they told ya to fuck off, you could always deck ‘em. Doubt it’d help much, but it might make you feel better.” Marlene shrugged, a devilish grin cracking over her face. She doubted that she was the only one to ever fantasize about punching the healers, at least those who seemed to be full of themselves. There was a plethora of respect for the ones who had helped her, but others -- well, talking down people in times of crisis wasn’t really their strong suit. “But we can go outside. Fresh air is s’posed to be good for us anyways or somethin’ isn’t it?” Maybe being away from the achingly pristine halls of the hospital would clear her head. At least in some way.  

#mood

placement asks

sun: what makes you feel like you?

moon: do you have problem with trust?

rising: how/what do people say you come off as?

midheaven: what do you want to be when you grow up?

venus: do you flirt more knowingly or unknowingly?

mars: when was the last time you got mad and why?

mercury: who's your go-to person when you need to talk?

jupiter: when was the last time you got lucky?

saturn: what are you the weakest and strongest at?

uranus: are you rebellious and do you act upon it frequently?

neptune: what was your best dream and why?

pluto: what is your biggest aspiration and why?

lilith: what's your biggest turn on in someone?

aries: what's your favorite sport to play?

taurus: are you a dog or cat person?

gemini: are you introverted or extroverted?

cancer: when was the last time you cried and why?

leo: what makes you the most confident?

virgo: what's your strongest subject in school?

libra: what's your favorite make up brand?

scorpio: what's your most kept secret?

sagittarius: do you like to party?

capricorn: what's the last book you've read?

aquarius: do you believe in aliens?

pisces: how frequently do you remember your dream?