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❛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘ. ᴘᴀɴ ᴇғғᴇᴄᴛ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ꒱


❝ I AM THE UNIVERSE IN MOTION,
FOR I WAS BORN FROM STARS ❞

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This is often how many fairytales begin. Once upon a time, a girl lost her glass slipper. Once upon a time, a princess was rescued from a tower. Once upon a time, a beanstalk grew from the ground until it reached a giant's palace in the sky.

Of course, the story did not reach the culminating point right away, but there is a recognizable pattern to these fables. Usually, it starts with a bad beginning. Perhaps the heroine loses her mother, her father or her freedom. Then it introduces the villain: an evil witch, a scheming sorcerer or a jealous stepmother. The love interest (often a prince or knight) is introduced, dashing and chivalrous and willing to risk it all for the one he loves. In order to prove his loyalty to her, he must face the obstacle that stands in his way. This could be a garden of thorn-filled roses, a myriad of mythical beasts or rescuing the princess from an enchantment. The hero can complete the task with magical help or his own daring bravery (or both.) Finally— and perhaps the most important aspect— is the happily-ever-after. The hero earns his hard-won reward and carries his maiden off into the sunset to begin a peaceful life together.

Alexandra Hargreeves' life was not a fairytale.

It shared similar aspects— the bad beginning, the damsel in distress, the villain, the obstacle and the knight— but there is one stark difference: there is no happy ending. (At least, not yet. She's still hoping.) Not only that, but her knight did not fight for her; he fought for himself. She had to become her own savior by whatever means necessary— and eventually became his as well.




𝐢. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

Born on the first of October, 1989, Alexa's life had been decided for her even before she'd taken her first breath. In a scientific fluke, forty-three children had been spontaneously generated without the aid of a father-figure. Not only that, but each one had come into the world with their own unique powers.

With a man such as Reginald Hargreeves on the loose, it was only a matter of time before he discovered these miracle babies. The new mothers were only too happy to give up their unwanted— terrifying— children. Only one had caused him some grief: Barbara Papatonis.

Rather than being horrified by her unannounced baby, she had praised its unusual origin. She had even gone so far as to refuse the money he offered her for it. The only reason she'd had to give the child up in the first place was her impoverished surroundings; she wanted more for her daughter than a life of struggle. It did not matter to him what her explanation was, so long as he succeeded.

— in the end, he'd gotten the eighth child like he had all the rest.




𝐢𝐢. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒

From a young age, books had been Alexa's escape. She devoured fairytale after fairytale to keep her mind at ease during her hellish childhood years. She loved— and longed for— the thrill of the adventure and mysteriousness of the magic.

Ever since she could remember, her passion had been bringing these picturesque scenes to life. Painting was something that went beyond thought and language and judgement. It was the essence of the soul, the purest expression of oneself that there was. Painting helped her run away from the dismal realty of a life that she never wanted. It was how she could share her emotions without ridicule from her impassive father or distant best friend.

Whenever she painted, it felt like she had transcended to another plane— as if her paintbrush was the key to an uninhabited fourth dimension that could only be accessed through inspiration. Her mind felt at peace when she became lost in this world of bright colors and limitless imagination. She could create anything with even just one color of paint on her palette, let alone a whole rainbows' worth.

While her siblings used knives or fists as their weapon of choice, Alexa never once thought to consider an object that could cause harm. Her role was to protect, so why would she ever want to hurt someone? Instead, her weapon became her mind. In the right hands, a paintbrush could be just as deadly as a blade.

— no statistics have ever been kept to see how much more scarlet-red paint has been spilled over blood.




𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍

To put it simply, Reginald Hargreeves was unfit to be a parent in every way. He knew nothing of sacrifice, selflessness and love. He could not begin to understand siblinghood, familial bonds or even the strongest of ties— no matter how often he preached about them. Rather than providing a nurturing and forgiving home, he offered a house filled with bitterness and regret.

As his children could claim, no one has ever seen Reginald Hargreeves' heart. In fact, they are convinced he doesn't have one. Perhaps he survives on spite and disappointment? It certainly seemed to be enough to fuel him most days.

To them, he was their worst nightmare. He was a shadow that lurked just out of sight, the floorboards that creaked outside their door, the specter that haunted their waking hours. Even once they left the Academy to begin their own paths, his caustic voice tormented their every action. No matter what they did or how far they ran, his grip on their lives never eased.

— it is said that home is where the heart is, but what phrase should be used when the man who raises you has none?




𝐢𝐯. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Five Hargreeves refused to be called a prince. He was not a spoiled heir that would one day run— or ruin— a kingdom. He certainly was not the type to save a princess after knowing her for only one day. (That idea was something his idiotic siblings could have come up with.) Truthfully, he loathed being compared to any sort of make-believe characters at all, but he would pick a knight over a prince any day.

Alexa— with her love of romance— had always thought that he would be the one to save her. When they were little, they'd often talked about what the future might hold and how they'd escape together. They would leave their house behind and fly— above the trees, above the buildings, right up to the great blue expanse of sky.

Unfortunately, not all dreams can come true. Instead of fighting to protect his metaphorical princess, Five Hargreeves abandons her in pursuit of his own self-interest. He was never one for idealism or whimsical beliefs, after all. He's not a knight in shining armor or a golden-crowned prince.

Now, that's not to say that he doesn't care about Alexa at all. In fact, he holds her in the highest regard (even more than all of their siblings combined.) It's just that he never gave a rat's ass about sappy emotions like love or affection or anything of the sort.

— it should not be a surprise that the standard roles have been reversed in this situation. After all, it is the knight's job to protect.




𝐯. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐋𝐄

There is, of course, one downside to flying (besides not actually being able to do it): the sun. When there are no trees to block the light, the glare makes it hard to see. Not only that, but the heat is prone to melt ones' wings.

Unfortunately, Five Hargreeves forgets these imperative facts.

On the very first test of his wings, he crashes and burns. Moving through time is very different than moving through the air. It is far more potent and heavier than one might expect.

For all of his bravado and arrogance, he becomes stuck. All of his plans— their plans— crumble to pieces just as his feathers melted from the wax. He is forced to live in the hellscape of the apocalypse for decades upon decades as he struggles to find a way out. Even as he tries to do the impossible, he shares the same fate as the rest of his family: his father's voice constantly berating him for his half-baked plan to save the world.

On the other side of the timeline, Alexa refuses to give up hope. She knows Five is still out there, somewhere. She would feel it if he wasn't. So, in addition to waiting and wishing and hoping, she does something. While math had never been her strong suit, she was willing to show how much of an idiot she was so long as it got the boy she loved home.

— time makes fools of us all.