𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 ━ five hargreeves³

1│THE JOY SUCK CLUB

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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.