#and she so desperately would want to be protect lucy and help her retain all the kindness and goodness that's so inherent in her

[wandercr]

you're telling me i'm supposed to work and be productive when i am so busy having all of these Thoughts and Feelings about fallout

[secret-engima]

For the Night King AU, could we possibly see the thoughts of the Chocobros 1.0 when they meet/see their counterparts? We kinda got a vauge look at Regis' thoughts and a tiny glimpse of Clarus', but what do they think when they look at the Dark Retinue and see what could have been them? And does Clarus' realize that Iris is an Amiticia as well?

Hmmmmm lemme think. Not sure if this is gonna be what you want but- ramble? Not gonna do them all because my hands hurt but the ramble should be long enough to suit.

-Clarus sees the man with Amicitia gold eyes and brown hair stop Cor’s attack on the Accursed and his heart stops for several reasons. One- he fully expects Cor and the rest of them to die in the next there seconds by angry daemon, two- someone was actually fast enough to STOP Cor, in an instant, like it was easy and that’s never happened before, and three-

-That man looks like Clarus’s father. That man looks like CLARUS and it’s freaking him out. He wonders hysterically if the Accursed was using an illusion to make his guard look like an Amicitia as a joke, or if Clarus’s father had a brother that was presumed dead but was actually taken and molded into a servant by the Night King.

-Instead of turning violent though, the man just laughs a deep, quiet laugh and lets Cid and Weskham drag the breathless Cor back into their group, “Nice try kid, but you’re about three decades too early to pull that off.”

-Regis apologizes for Cor with a desperate edge that means he too fears reprisal, but the Night King just shrugs it off and summons another human (human!) to escort them to the dining room.

-The newcomer, named Prompto, mentions a “Gladio” a few times as they walk and Clarus wonders if that’s the Amicitia he saw.

-They learn ... quite a few things that night and the days following after, and when he’s not fretting over the others, Clarus is, admittedly, studying Gladiolus. Since learning that this Accursed is new, he’s been trying to figure out how far back in the family tree Gladiolus is. He acts like he’s known the Night King all his life, and there’s a brief mention of a childhood incident, which means the man is definitely not Clarus’s father’s brother.

-Honestly, Clarus can readily believe this Amicitia is ancient. Not in appearance, he only looks to be in his early thirties at most, but in soul? Oh yes.

-Gladiolus is old in a worn, battle-hardened sort of way that reminds Clarus of his few recollections of his grandfather. He’s friendly, not the violent, brutish thing Clarus expected of an Accursed’s Shield, but instead gentle. Tired. His temper rises fast as fire and snuffs as quickly as a candle, he answers questions patiently, and seems to keep his king on just as tight a leash as any other Shield (food and sleep seem to be the realm of Ignis’s care, but in other matters, Gladiolus keeps his king anchored, just as is tradition).

-Clarus wants to ask questions, desperately. He wants to ask how old Gladiolus is, where in the family tree he is, HOW he came to be the Shield of the Accursed’s Nephew but ... he doesn’t. He doesn’t dare. There is something dark lurking in Gladiolus’s gaze when they speak, something bleeding still, and Clarus does not want to further open a heart wound that is clearly still weeping.

-It doesn’t stop him from wondering, especially as the years go by and he lives in the Night Kingdom with Regis prior to Regis ascending Lucis’s throne, why a man as steady and unflinching as Gladiolus is nonexistent in the history records. In the family tree. Clarus has CHECKED. There is no sign of him even as far back as Gilgamesh.

-Clarus isn’t sure which is better, that Gladiolus was erased that thoroughly for whatever happened back then, or that no one in the family knew that he (or his SISTER and isn’t that a shock, one that takes much longer to realize since Iris is usually busy elsewhere in the Citadel and rarely sees Clarus) existed.

...

-Weskham doesn’t take long to decide he likes Ignis. There is a steadiness and experience to the blind man, and even though Ignis is very unnerving at times (the way he commands daemons, the way he effortlessly navigates and fights despite being blind), it is gratifying to have another who understands Weskham’s trials as a Hand of the King.

-After the treaty, after they have been kidnapped in all but name and intent (for Regis chose this, Regis agreed to this to spare his father and his kingdom), Ignis and Weskham take to spending afternoons in the kitchens together. Just the two of them, some new dish cooking in the ovens, and a cup of tea as they talk.

-Weskham enjoys their time, but he would also be the first to admit that Ignis is ... a little off sometimes. There is a jagged edge to him that will not smooth, it glitters in his words sometimes, in the fervent desperation that edges his shoulders when he spends too long apart from his King. There is a ... neediness there. A doubt. Like if he turns away for too long, Noctis will disappear into dust on the wind. All of the Dark Retinue (a silly nickname that Prompto insisted on using after hearing it) have that edge, but in Ignis it is the sharpest.

-“The last thing I ever saw,” Ignis tells him once, very quietly, on a rainy day where the tea has been spiked just slightly with wine, “was Noct. He was lying on the ground in the rain next to Luna, and he was ... he wasn’t moving. There was no sign-. I couldn’t see him breathing, and Ardyn was right there. I feared-.” Ignis goes silent and Weskham holds his breath despite himself. He still does not know how Luna was, she is someone they only mention in passing and in deep grief, but he knows enough about Noctis and his ... relationship with his now passed Uncle to feel a thrill of fear just at the retelling, “He was dead.” Ignis’s voice breaks just a little and Weskham feels his heart bleed for the older man, “I thought I had lost him. I swore to stay ever at his side. All his life I walked with him, since he was just a small child, and then I saw him, and he was so very still.”

-Ignis exhales, “I wonder sometimes, what he looks like now. I do not regret losing my sight, but sometimes I wish I could see him. Just once more. Just so that that is not the last moment.”

-Weskham tentatively touches Ignis’s hand in solidarity, and internally he shakes. Because he too was raised with his king from a young age. To have the sight of him almost dead on the ground be the last he ever saw of Regis, even if Regis survived... Weskham can’t imagine it.

-He doesn’t want to.

...

-Cid knows Iris is an Amicitia. He’s not BLIND and unlike Clarus he sees the girl a lot more often, since she and Talcott like to come sniffing around the workshop Noctis gave him.

-He’s more than a little sure the girl avoids Clarus when she can, because seeing him cuts up her insides even though she likes him.

-But she and Talcott don’t bother him, or get in his way, so he lets them visit. Sometimes they chat, either to him or over his head, and he learns a lot about their past from those cues.

-He learns Clarus looks like Iris’s and Gladiolus’s father. That Talcott’s family used to be retainers for Iris and Gladiolus’s. He learns that Iris can scrap with the best of them, but honestly prefers staying here and helping people with mending and fixing, because she’s seen too many things get broken in her life that can’t be fixed. Talcott is a busybody, but all his secrets he hoards to himself. He gathers gossip but never spreads it, and he likes learning things because when he was a boy, knowing things was the only way he could help. And even now that he’s grown, knowing things is his strongest weapon.

-Cid can sympathize. He didn’t grow up as one of Regis’s Retinue, and he doesn’t know a lot of courtly things or how magic works beyond the basics Regis taught him. But he does know the wilds, and the villages, and the common folk, and those were things Regis desperately needed to learn back in the day. He knows how to fight, but he prefers to fix because frankly there’s enough people going around breaking things and not enough fixing. Just look at how well Mors messed up Cor.

-Cid carefully doesn’t think about what it must have been like back when Iris and Talcott were small. How they had to help, had to KNOW things when they were only kids (or the nearest immortal equivalent). Cid was an adult when he met Regis, not a kid. He could shoulder that just fine. Them...

-Well. They’re adults now, and they seem happy enough, so Cid will let it go at that.

...

-Cor doesn’t like Older Cor.

-Oh he likes to FIGHT him, and he respects him a lot, but he doesn’t ... like him.

-Old Cor is too much like Cor, and so when Cor sees the ways Old Cor is broken, it means Cor could break in those ways too.

-But Cor is stubborn and curious, so he badgers Old Cor anyway, for fighting, for clues, for ... anything really. And here are some things he learns.

-Old Cor doesn’t like to be around Regis and the others. Not that he doesn’t like them (he loves them, Cor can see it in his eyes, that fervent burning edge that Cor sees in the mirror every morning) but being near them HURTS and both Cor’s tend to fight the things that hurt, so Old Cor stays away.

-Old Cor is protective. He’s protective of his home, of his kingdom, of the humans living in the Night Kingdom. But most of all he’s protective of Noctis and his Retinue, and despite his old joints and scars, he will kill anything that threatens them without hesitation.

-Old Cor is impatient. He’s like Cor, he wants to get things done NOW, but he’s got a much better control over that urge than Cor currently does, so he seems like he’s patient when he’s really not.

-Old Cor lost his King.

-It’s a bad realization. A harsh one that comes after Cor sneaks into the Accursed’s tomb when he shouldn’t have. But it makes sense. Old Cor walks like he is still following in someone’s shadow, two steps back and one to the left, even when no one is around. Old Cor still sometimes looks over his shoulder like he’s about to call someone, then stops and keeps walking. Old Cor spends some evenings nursing a bottle of wine, but for every glass he drinks he pours out two more.

-”Was it Noctis’s father?” Cor asks Old Cor once.

-Old Cor ... LOOKS at Cor and there is a sharpness there that comes less from a honed blade and more from the broken shards of one, “Yes.” Then, before Cor could ask more, Old Cor says, rough and hoarse and fragile “The original Accursed killed him. I was sent away to protect Noctis.”

-I was sent away, he didn’t let me die at his side why didn’t he LET ME STAY WITH HIM- screams between them, maybe Cor’s heart, maybe Old Cor’s. It doesn’t matter, they are close enough in everything else for this reaction to be shared too.

-Cor doesn’t ask about it again.

-One days when Old Cor is too broken and rough, when he genuinely has no tolerance for even looking at Cor, Cor goes and bothers Prompto instead. The man is always willing to fight him, or tell him stories, or just laugh at something Cor did that shouldn’t be funny but is anyway. Cor knows he should probably hunt for clues on Prompto too, but he caught a glimpse of Prompto’s wrist once, the black tattoo that looks suspiciously like a Niflheim slave brand, and even Cor knows that THAT is a line of questions he shouldn’t breach.

...

-Regis has a lot of thoughts on Noctis. At first, it’s terror. Terror at what he thought was the original Accursed, terror for what would become of his Retinue and himself at this monster’s hands.

-Except Noctis is no monster, he is painfully, achingly human, and that perhaps is even worse.

-After that he is wary of Noctis, and refuses to let himself think the words “Lucis Caelum” because if he does THAT then he’s going to ask questions and Noctis doesn’t deserve questions.

-It comes about anyway. There’s no denying his looks, his blue eyes, his magic. And the thought of the OG Accursed being related to the Lucis Caelum line in any way makes Regis’s skin crawl, but Noctis is sweet and kind and patient, and Regis cannot help but love the man like family even before the day he works up the nerve to ask if Noctis is really a Lucis Caelum and gets a soft “yes” as his answer.

(gonna stop there sorry because my hands hurt rn and just hgdhgfds)

[ninety6tears]

king-of-exchanges letter

Wooo kingofexchanges is happening again! 

I’m a big fan of SK but only somewhere in the middle of my consumption/obsession; with King being heavy on self-referencing and crossover-friendly treatments, I’d be happy for you to mix and match any of my requests, as long as you can see from my goodreads page that I’ve read the relevant stuff.

Basic preferences: I read everything from G-rated to explicit PWP. I love pastiche for lit fandoms but something that feels more off the beaten path of the original style can also be fun.

I love: Angst, pining, subtle UST, first times, or established relationships with some level of conflict to be resolved. Intense friendship stories. Protectiveness in close relationships as well as in those that wouldn’t obviously appear to be protective at first. A character or characters experiencing a type of attraction that isn’t the status quo for them. Relationships that had a falling-out and neither of them ever really got over it. Characterization that focuses on the nature & nurture of who people have grown to be and the unique ways they take care of or need other characters. Insecurity/hangups over worthiness. AUs of all varieties.

I can handle: underage, dubcon, noncon, torture and incest. Character death. Love triangles. Infidelity.

Do Not Want: Fix-its without sacrifice/troubles. Soulbonding/magical soulmate tropes. Disputes centered around marriage as a show of commitment ("If you were really serious you'd have proposed by now rather than just wanting to live together" and all that). A/B/O, mpreg, or any body fluid kinks. More than a mention of Alzheimer’s/dementia.

Christine ‘83 (FIC):

Arnie/Dennis

Arnie/Christine/Dennis

---NOTE - The movie is more fresh in my mind for prompting purposes but I have read the book, so feel free to run with this request for either version. I do like the dark humor Carpenter brings to adolescence without mocking the angst of being a teenager, not that King isn’t morbidly funny in his own right.

We get very little of them together before Arnie starts to go all possessed but we can tell their friendship has lasted a lot of changes over the years. That hospital visit over the holiday (which I remember was more bittersweet, less tense in the book?) feels like the last time Arnie remembered that he's supposed to be a big part of Dennis’ life. But even before all that, there’s a nice dynamic where Dennis is protective of Arnie and really thinks highly of him (and huh, maybe sees something in his looks other people don’t) when it’s not socially advantageous for him to retain that loyalty, and I’d like to get more of that. Maybe they’ve fooled around once or twice? Maybe Arnie was the one who got weird about it, afraid of the eventual rejection, or they’re both just too repressed? I like the triangle with Leigh too, if you wanted to get into the confused jealousy/conduit attraction thing, just nothing that completely dismisses any meaning of her relationship with Dennis if it’s referenced at all.

If Dennis was the one Christine got dangerously jealous of (either because something happens between them or she just knows) how would that go down differently? Or what if the car decides she wants to be shared by them, and maybe likes to watch them do things to each other (take that however you want it to mean) and either their closeness makes the two of them eventually snap out of it, or they all just become a weird evil threesome? I'm also into the idea of some other fantasy/sci-fi AU in which Christine is something or someone else entirely but is still threatening in some paranormal/inhuman way.

Crossover Tags (FIC):

Peter McVries & Ray Garraty & The Stand

Peter McVries/Ray Garraty & The Stand

---I’m interested in how these two would fit into a story with such an elemental moral war. Both are reckless but McVries more prone to hopelessness and nihilism; would he be tempted to join Flagg without outside influence? Would he just kind of wander around with no sense of purpose until Ray found him? It could also turn the existential misery of The Long Walk on its head, with them losing their families and possibly realizing too late the preciousness of life that way. You don’t have to get into much philosophy or plot either; I’m kind of into the everyday pain-in-the-ass minutiae of the post-apocalypse and people finding ways to laugh about their circumstances and reach for each other in their grief. Feel free to write it as full-on crossover with some of the canon Stand characters appearing.

Larry Underwood & Richie Tozier

---If you have some other idea of where to put these two together, go for it, but I had this idea of Richie hosting an occasional interview special for up-and-coming musicians and Larry being invited on when the single’s just out and being so nervous to meet this famous personality, and maybe they get drunk or high together before or after the interview (bonus points if Larry can hardly get in an answer cause Richie gives him the giggles). They’re kinda both assholes so they get along? They’re both assholes so they kinda hate each other? I didn’t nominate it as a shippy treatment but if you’re really sad I didn’t, hey, stuff happens when people party.

The Dark Half (FIC):

Alan Pangborn/Thad Beaumont

Alan Pangborn/Elizabeth Beaumont/Thad Beaumont

George Stark/Alan Pangborn

---I thought the surprising friendship and trust that takes hold between Thad and the officer who initially believes him to be a cold killer was one of the better aspects of this novel, and the way that connection is so soon polluted by Stark's insurmountable connection to a part of Thad’s psyche is chilling and more than a little sad. I would love to get a shippy treatment of their immediate companionship and/or the inevitable disturbance of it. If you wanted to make it a poly thing with Elizabeth, with all three of them not really pausing in the midst of all these maddening things happening to question opening their marriage to someone they find comforting, I would be interested in how that might underscore the events.

And when it comes to George/Alan...yeah, I want darkfic, potentially outlining Stark’s role in putting Alan off Thad in a more sinister way, whether it’s poisoning the well of Alan’s (sublimated? not yet acted on?) desire and affection for Thad by being sleazily flirtatious in pointing it out, or going to a darker noncon place with all the mingled disgust and misplaced attraction that might provoke. (In the context of this prompt, I’m not super into the gross-out factor of Stark being at the stage where his skin is falling off, but if you can’t somehow set it at an earlier stage it would be better to just not mention it.)

Also, I realize Alan has a family, but you can deal with that however you want; his wife can just not exist for the purposes of the story, but even infidelity wouldn’t put me off if you’re taking the character that far out of a healthy mindset.

The Long Walk (FIC):

Peter McVries/Ray Garraty

---Since we’re never in Pete’s head, it would be great to get anything detailing how his initial distance from Ray quickly erodes into the protectiveness he obviously can’t help over him, if there’s a spark of empathy there even before the first time Ray saves him, or what he’s really thinking or trying to say at some of his more cynical and cryptic moments. I wonder what it was that Parker said to him to imply he thought he and Ray were “queer for each other” and how this apparently was covered without McVries feeling the need to deny it?

If you wanted to write them both somehow surviving, I would love to see how their relationship remains in the aftermath; maybe they don’t exactly end up together because they associate each other with this traumatizing thing, and they have an essential but troubled friendship because of it (and maybe they end up fucking a couple times but don’t really talk about it).

In the realm of more absolute alternate universes...a bigoted boarding school atmosphere, an aggressive correctional camp, anything where a compulsive make-out might happen in the bunks or the showers and then be stiffly denied later on sounds like a backdrop I’d love for these boys if you want to do something bleak-but-not-as-mortally-bleak.

I prefer to think of McVries as having complicated depression that doesn’t just stem from girlfriend problems; I’d prefer you mention the incident with Priscilla as little as possible, but any focus on Pete’s scar is totally fine.

The Stand (ART):

Larry Underwood/Lucy Swann

Lucy Swann/Larry Underwood/Nadine Cross/Randall Flagg

Nadine Cross

---My attempts to prompt for art for these tags may be unhelpful but I’m really into Nadine’s scary paranormal bond with Flagg, the imagery of her hair and Flagg’s tainted handsomeness and everything haunted about her and her life, and how the love triangle with her and Larry and Lucy is really a quadrangle of temptations and baggage beyond the usual moral pressure of romantic entanglements. They’re all figuratively in bed together whether they like it or not, but I could see that presented more literally in art. I also would like anything associated with the individual permutations (Larry/Nadine, Larry/Lucy, Larry/Nadine/Randall?). Desperate/melancholy embraces, or moments of almost touching. That ghost leering over Nadine’s shoulder in her moments of getting too close to tenderness.

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Whitemage AU - Concept

It’s in the middle of the night but I can’t sleep because my brain won’t stop thinking about this. So I made myself some tea and you get more stuff (concepts) about my newly named whitemage au.

Noctis first learns that he has different magic than basically any other Lucis Caelum when he was barely seven. He did not do anything spectacular, just conjuring lights that were violett flecked gold and not the traditional light blue.

When asked about different coloured magic in the family Regis does not tell a pretty story. Bahamut “is the protector of our nation, my son, he must have his reasons” does not like white magicks. Regis tells this with an air of desperate belief that Noctis doesn’t quite grasp.

There have been Lucis Caelums with different magicks, but they all died before having children. Bad things happened when a Lucis Caelum was not a black mage and those that weren’t became an omen of tragedy in the future.

What Regis doesn’t (can’t) tell his son, is that they all died horrible, bloody deaths with too many causalities in their wake. Some monarchs grew so desperate, they killed their own children, if they were suspected of not being black mages. The risks were too high. It’s a chapter of family history best be forgotten, thinks Regis.

Noctis finds out anyway. Years later, after learning old Lucian and clobbering together broken fragments of ancient Sol through sheer force of will. He found the gaps where people should be, found names long forgotten and their fates and knew: It was good his father didn’t know.

He nearly cripples himself when he has to supress his magic when he is wounded by the Malarith. He has not yet read the old records but he remembers his fathers story and he wonders if this is the catastrophe that will kill him.

It doesn’t. Instead he sleeps and meets Carbuncle the Dreamwalker who helps him hide. Carbuncle guides him to Etro the Ever-Dreaming and in the folds of her darkness Noctis learns about magic. Afterwards he will only retain faint impressions, but for a time those are enough.

Luna is a quick friend. Noctis cannot help but be fascinated by her and her family. They give a name to the golden coloured magic he has: white magic. (Something about this is familiar to him, like a dream. It reminds him of shadowy protection and long hair that caught the stars.)

He wants to learn more but only get’s confusing answers about Gods and prophesies and Chosen Kings. Sometimes Gentiana would just stare at him, he thinks she doesn’t like him and try to avoid her.

When Tenebrea falls and he sees the dead queen amongst the fires and the metal men, that made his skin crawl, he cannot help but think: Was that my fault?

After that he becomes even more shy, even more hesitant to talk to people if he doesn’t have to.

His training begins and his magical talent starts to shine. Just not where people can see. Noctis has close to no talent in black magic and while very gifted with a staff “even the Pious was proficient when handling swords, my son”.

People start to talk about his lack in motivation, his lack of talent. How can their prince, the only heir, be a good king when he lacks the basic foundations of what made the Lucis Caelum kings? 

They do not see the energy he puts into is magic (how much it hurts him when he has to conjure more than the most simple of black magic spells). They do not know about the time he puts into developing his own fighting style beacuse no one in his family fought with a staff before (it is a pain to try and combine it with his acrobatics and warping). They do not see the medical texts he reads at night and hides from everyone because he is scared out of his mind, but also wants to know and help.

It all ends (or maybe it starts) in an allyway when he is fifteen. A homelss drunk tries to attack him and Gladio gets hurt. He gets hurt and Noctis wants to help him. But he can’t because then, surely, there will be consequences. He thinks about his fathers story, the nameless family members, the death and blood and tragedy. 

And he runs. 

[hopelesstvaddict]

ALL BUT GRIM ON ASOUE’S GRIM GROTTO

In many aspects, The Grim Grotto has the ungrateful task of being the middle child of ASOUE's final season, squeezed between the season opener The Slippery Slope and The Penultimate Peril, which by all accounts and acknowledged by Barry Sonnenfeld himself, serves more as the series finale than The End. Between the season premiere and the final three episodes, it's easy to overlook The Grim Grotto. And yet it would be a mistake since these two episodes do a great deal in advancing the plot as well as beginning to offer closure on a few storylines. The Grim Grotto emulates The Lord of the Rings series and offers a second installment that lives up and does more than just link the beginning and the end; it actually exists on its own. Plus, it offers one of the best fourth wall-breakings from Lemony (Patrick Warburton), in a submersible reminiscent of Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea. [Note: this season is the first where I haven't re -read the books in advance so my memories of them are a bit shady.]

After the quest for the VFD headquarters in the season premiere, we're fully back to focusing on the Sugar Bowl, conveniently lost at sea by Kit Snicket. Violet , Klaus and Sunny meet Fiona Widdershins (Kassius Nelson), a British youngster who is captain of her own submarine, the Queequeg, in the absence of her stepfather - if I remember correctly, Captain Widdershins was originally present in the book. Fiona is fortunately enough of a decent character to make up for this. She is one of the few characters who the Baudelaires encounter and who seems at least competent in what she is doing and it is no accident she is a child. She is also the first character creating some sort of dissonance between the siblings with Klaus taking an instant like to her while Violet suspects there's more to Fiona that she actually lets on - which there is, and that's not the annoying ordering around. Her character is tied to the Hook-Handed Man who finally reveals the last of his backstory and continues to demonstrate the central theme of the season; that there is no black and white and villains might do good sometimes - he helps the Baudelaires escape on behalf of Sunny - and do-gooders might sometimes go wicked - as Fiona demonstrates. Per the producers' own admission in The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations companion book, Fiona retains character traits that were incorporated into Ellington Feint, a key character from the All The Wrong Questions series, the prequel to ASOUE. Indeed, both girls make questionable choices in order to protect one they love, leaving the boys who love them desperate to understand.

Violet and Klaus still have trouble accepting this new viewing in shades of grey rather than the bi-colored world they still try to cling to and The Hook-Handed Man is yet another character trying to explain it to them. But they hardly have any time to think about it with all that's happening around them. They reunite with Phil (Chris Gauthier), the ever optimistic ex-worker of the Lucky Smells Lumbermill from Season 1 but that's perhaps the only good thing they can experience. Olaf finds them rather quickly and forces them to search for the Sugar Bowl in the Grim Grotto, unraveling the unfortunate events that define the rest of the season as well as its best cliffhanger. The titular grotto's backstory offers more revelations on the increasingly morally-dubious VFD and a sweet reunion with Quigley, now the owner of the Sugar Bowl and one of the few who knows what's inside and cut short by the Medusoid Mycelium, a deadly poisonous mushroom which infects Sunny, ending Part One. The ensuing scenes exude desperation and work incredibly well even though they only take a small part of the second part. Fortunately, Sunny devices herself a cure but it's a bit unnerving that in handing the trapped mycelium to Fiona for research, the Baudelaires unwittingly and indirectly hand it to Olaf as a weapon and ultimately cause more deaths around them.

Meanwhile, the seeds of discordance continue to grow between Olaf and his remaining associates. The Hook-Handed Man, whose name is revealed as Fernald, drifts further away as he goes onto his personal journey with Fiona and the Man With A Beard But No Hair and the Woman With Hair But No Beard have made sure to undermine him by putting their trust in Esme who acts like a mother to Carmelita, whom Olaf despises. They also provide her a submarine which continues to remind us of Wes Anderson's aesthetic and reminds us how beautiful this show can visually be. Olaf and Esme's different personal interests continue to clash as one wants to hunt the Baudelaires while the other seeks to retrieve the Sugar Bowl. As the object over which the whole of VFD is ready to fight, the fact that Olaf isn't particularly interested in it and rather prefers to focus on his enemies is notable and continues to point at a yet-undisclosed drama that tore his, the Baudelaire and the Snicket families. These two episodes, in fact, propel the story forward, and use the Sugar Bowl the same way the books used it - as a way for the plot to advance and for the characters to be placed where they need to be. The Sugar Bowl seems so important as an item but its real meaning may well be how it pushes the characters around and triggers their storylines. The final revelations in The End all but confirm this.

With all this happening, the other characters fall a bit in the background. Mr Poe (K. Todd Freeman) is paired up with Kit who keeps reminding him that she is not her secretary which only heightens our disappointment that Jacquelyn (Sara Canning) is nowhere to be seen - the show still mentions her and reveals her as the Duchess of Winnipeg, a nod to fans who have long wished to know the identity of this secondary character. Thank god the the newspaper delivery boy (Gabe Khouth) made an appearance in the previous episodes. But her absence is still deeply felt and she is in fact not the only one, as Eleanora Poe (Cleo King) is also MIA. The End catches up with her fate, disclosing that The Daily Punctilio has shut down and she is in prison. Her husband fails to convince the Baudelaires to come live with him, in a bittersweet mirroring of their first encounter at the same morose beach from the first season. But this time, the children have grown up, they are more wary and more tired. They know that this doesn’t end until they take action; and so, of course they go with Kit who offers to take them to the Last Safe Place where VFD will hold a final meeting. As a last note, The Great Unknown makes a memorable appearance. Readers of the All The Wrong Questions series will have a better understanding of it, the references being numerous - aside from the physical appearance of The Great Unknown, the word ‘moxy’ is uttered and most probably made to reference another character from the prequel series.

This installment continues the trend this season of having shorter episodes which helps tighten the plot and less meandering. The shorter time for the second part - at around 35 minutes, it is maybe the shortest entry of the entire series - allows for the cast to shine and really make the characters work, from Malina Weissman’s angst over her sick sister to Lucy Punch who continues to make the most of her ridiculous wardrobe (this time, she pays homage to Ursula from The Little Mermaid - how appropriate). But it’s really Usman Ally who allows real pathos to emerge from his character. The show has perhaps found one of the best changes it could have done from the books by introducing very early on a softer side to The Hook-Handed Man, sprinkling bits here and there of a backstory, all of which finally pays off when he seemingly switches sides - though he himself would not really put it like that. After all, 'people aren't either wicked or noble. They're like chef's salads, with good things and bad things chopped and mixed together in a vinaigrette of confusion and conflict’.

The Slippery Slope | The Grim Grotto | The Penultimate Peril | The End

[blustersquall]

Be Safe

Gladio and the others read the news that Insomnia has fallen. While trying to retain his stoic outer demeanor and be strong for the others, Gladio tries to contact those he cares about to check they’re safe.

@ffxvhoe @mp938368

It couldn’t be true.

“Insomnia Falls”

Even with the headline staring Gladio in the face, the newspaper ink staining his already sweating hands, he couldn’t believe it. How could Insomnia fall? How could the Crown City fall? How could the Crownsguard, the Kingsglaive, and the City Guard all fail in their sacred duties to protect the King, the city, and it’s citizens?

As he read the article, only just comprehending each one as he scanned the lines, he was vaguely aware of his companions speaking.

“There was an attack,” Ignis explained, clipped and formal as ever. Noctis was stunned, but angry – Gladio saw the way his hands balled into fists at his side. “The Imperial army has taken the Crown City,” he continued, focusing on Noctis.

Gladio began to read aloud, only vaguely aware he was doing it. He heard his voice, felt his mouth form the words, hoping it would help in making the truth sink in. “As treaty room tempers flared blasts lit the night sky. When the smoke about the Citadel had cleared the King… was found… dead…”

His stomach sank heavily to his feet. He felt sick. King Regis, dead?

“No- wait—hold on--!” Noctis practically gasped, trying to understand what was being said and what had happened. He sounded like he was choking.

Gladio knew the feeling. His throat was dry and had closed over making it hard to swallow and his heart pulsed in the back of his mouth. If the King was dead, then that meant his own father, Clarus… He was King Regis’ shield, just as Gladio was Noct’s. King Regis wouldn’t have fallen if his own father…

He tried to swallow, but doing so only made the sick feeling inside him worse.

“We had no way of knowing…” Ignis said, slowly making his way further into the suit in Galdin Quay. His shoulders hunched in clear defeat.

“What?!” Noctis demanded, panic growing in his voice. “Knowing what?!”

“That the signing was last night. That Insomnia—“

“But the wedding! Altissia--!”

“I know!” Ignis faced an increasingly frantic Noctis, his usually steady façade slipping just a fraction to display his own growing anxiety. “That was the plan.” With a breath, the calm outer demeanour returned. Ignis, professional as always. “Yet the reports are all the same. How could every headline in the Kingdom be wrong?”

Noctis gasped a breath, as if re-emerging from deep water. “Lies.” He declared, taking aimless steps away from Ignis.

There was silence between the four of them, the news beginning to sink in. Gladio absorbed as much of the front page article as he could and tried to push the thoughts of his father dying from his mind. He could worry later. Right now, he had to fulfil his own duty as Noctis’s Shield. He couldn’t protect him from his news, but he could help think up a course of action. Help guide him into making a decision to stop them all from floundering.

“Hm, if only.” Prompto, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, said softly from the corner of the room where he was staring out over the beautiful Galdin sea. Outside was bright, the sea turquoise and calm. A stark comparison to the raging turmoil and emotions rocking everyone in the suite.

Gladio groaned, lowering the paper. “What else do we know?” he asked, looking to Ignis. No quick words came from his companion, only a sigh and a brief shake of his head. Gladio steeled himself, “then we can’t be sure until we see it with our own eyes.” He declared, false hope that all the papers were just wrong, and that the reports weren’t true.

“And that means, we go back to Insomnia.” Prompto said.

Ignis spoke, “might not be safe for us there—“

“Might not be safe for us here!” Prompto interjected, desperation audible in his voice.

It was a good point, one Gladio had not considered. There was no telling if the Imperial army would come looking for the Crown Prince of Lucis. If the aim was to wipe out the Royal family, he was the only one left. They had already had a run in with a strange man some days before – could he have been an Imperial spy or scout? The thought of that made Gladio’s stomach turn.

“Turn back?” Gladio asked, looking to Noctis for confirmation. What they did was riding on his decision after all.

He seemed thoughtful for a moment, eyes meeting Gladio’s before he dropped his head in a resigned nod. “Yeah.”

They moved quickly, gathering up their things in silence and leaving the lush room as swiftly as possible, drawing as little attention to themselves as they could. There were patrons bustling around, idling and cheerful. Blissfully unaware of what the papers were saying had transpired. Gladio envied their ignorance. As they walked to the Regalia at a brisk pace, he made a mental list of who to call.

His father, first. Then Iris. If he couldn’t reach either of them, the family butler, Jared. Isla.

The thought of calling her chilled him to the bone. She had said she was going to attend the treaty signing and watch from outside the Citadel. If an attack had happened… Gods, he didn’t want to consider what might have happened to her. He couldn’t. If he thought too long about any one he cared about, he felt like he was going to start screaming.

As Ignis smoothly pulled out of the car park, pushing the Regalia to the top of the legal speed limit, Gladio began to dial numbers on his phone.

First, his father. He put his phone to his ear, praying he might hear his father’s voice answer. Even if it was just his voicemail. A few seconds of dead silence, and then he heard a click and an automated female voice. “The number you have dialled cannot be reached. Please try again later.” It clicked off and automatically hung up. His stomach sank further, as if weighted down by stone. He felt his throat again start to close over with worry, and forced a deep breath to hold it back.

Next, Iris. He tapped her number, a picture of her eating breakfast with a beaming smile and bed head flashed up on screen. He had taken it only days before they left. He waited, hoping to hear her answer. He heard the same click, and grit his teeth when he heard the automated voice again. “The number you have dialled is out of range or turned off. Please try again later.”

Clenching his fingers around his phone, he just managed to contain a string of swear words. Getting angry wouldn’t help, and at least the message to Iris’s phone was different to that of his father’s. If Iris was out of range, or her phone was turned off, it might have meant she was out of the city. Gladio glanced skywards, praying that was the case.

Jared was next, the family butler and an older man who was notorious for forgetting to turn his phone on, let alone answer it. Still, without being able to contact Iris or his father, Jared was the next best person. He heard a dial tone as he put his phone to his ear, and the sound filled him with a cooling sense of relief for a few moments. The tone continued, the regular trill quickly grating on Gladio’s nerves as no one answered for thirty seconds, a minute. Finally, it clicked off automatically, and the robotic voice returned. “There is no answer. Please try again later.”

Gladio pushed his left hand through his hair growing more frustrated with every passing second. He noticed Ignis watching him in the rear view mirror, and quickly glanced away, staring out at the quickly passing vista. It wasn’t even sure where they were in relation to Galdin Quay and Insomnia. The trip never felt this long before. Running his hand through his hair again, he felt the weight of the braid and the bead Isla had tied into his hair the morning he left. He squeezed the bead between his fingers, and quickly skimmed the names on his contacts list, looking for her.

He had made the photo he took of her naked back his contact photo for her, and it flashed up when his phone began to dial. A few seconds, a click. Gladio’s chest tightened, the hope of hearing her voice and knowing at least someone was safe making it hard to breathe.

“Hey, this is Isla. I can’t answer right now, leave me a message!” Her voicemail clicked off with three short tones and a long one, indicating for him to speak.

“Isles, it’s me.” Gladio spoke hurriedly over the sound of the wind, “call me when you get this, okay? Let me know you’re safe.”

He hung up and stared at the screen. He waited several seconds, hoping that maybe he just missed her, or she was on another call and she would call back immediately. If she did, then at least a little bit of the worry gnawing away at him would be alleviated. Nothing for thirty seconds. A minute. Two minutes. He tapped her picture, calling again.

A brief dial tone, then: “hey, this is Isla. I can’t answer right now, leave me a message!”

Frustration and worry growing, churning inside him like a tempest, Gladio tried twice more his fear becoming more frantic each time he got only her voicemail and nothing else. Where could she be? Why wasn’t she answering her phone?! Why wasn’t anyone answering their phones?! Could they? Were their phones in reach? Were they even alive?

No. He couldn’t think like that. He couldn’t be fatalistic. Until he saw it all with his own eyes, knew the truth, he couldn’t count on anything. Perhaps the papers had it wrong. Perhaps King Regis had escaped, and his father with him. He knew his father would never abandon his post as the King’s Shield, let alone leave one of his closest friends to fight alone. If it was true, and King Regis was dead then it stood to reason that…

Bile rose up Gladio’s throat and he forced it back down, feeling the acrid taste and the thickness swelling in his throat. He couldn’t lose it. He couldn’t freak out and panic. He had to step up. He had to be strong, and resolved, for Noctis, and for the others. They had to know they could rely on him. That he was above the fear and grief. He had to be stronger than those emotions. He was stronger than they were.

In his hand, he phone vibrated, and his heart leapt into his mouth, hoping springing that it might be one of the people he called. That hope disappeared quickly when he saw it was a voicemail waiting to be listened to. He tapped to icon, and put his phone to his ear.

“You have voicemail.” The female automated voice told him. Gladio pressed the associated number on the touch screen to hear it. “Message received: yesterday at seven twenty-three.”

“Hey you!” Isla’s voice came through, bright and cheerful. Gladio quickly smothered his mouth with his free hand, managing to bite back a choked gasp that he refused to admit was a sob. Hearing her voice was a blissful moment of relief. She was alive, at least she was yesterday evening.

“I just wanted to call you, hear your voice… Ugh, that sounds sappy. Sorry – it’s the signing today, so the bar is closed and I’m going to head to the Citadel now to watch. I have done nothing all day, and it’s been amazing! I forgot how nice it is to just do nothing. I should do it more often.” She giggled down the phone, and Gladio could imagine her pacing around her small apartment, picking up bits of clothing and tidying as she spoke. 

“I slept like, twelve hours, it was the best. And the bed smells like you… Made me miss you. Is that weird? Ugh, that’s probably really weird. I hate leaving voice mails, I always babble. I’m sure you’re busy. I hope you’re enjoying yourself though. Maybe you’re already on a boat to Altissia and that’s why I can’t get you. I know you’re technically working, but try to have fun.” She sighed, went silent for a couple of a seconds before she inhaled deeply. “I meant to tell you the other—“ Gladio heard a knock that must have been on her front door. “Oop! That’s Robyn, I have to go. I’ll tell you later. Be safe, okay? Let me know that you’re safe. I’ll talk to you soon.”

The voice mail cut off, and the automated voice asked if Gladio wanted to listen to the message again, delete it, or save it. He opted to save it then hung up. Clutching his phone in both hands, he leaned over, pressing his forehead to his clasped fists and squeezing his eyes closed.

“Be safe,” he murmured, praying to whatever God might be listening. “All of you, please. Be safe.”

Ah, I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you think in comments/tags/reblogs. All greatly loved and appreciated. Please don’t hesitate to reblog writing, it really helps writers out. <3

You can also ask me questions or suggest things for me to write, should you so choose, by dropping me a message. :)

[ageofwrathrpg]

Name: Larisa Tsoy Age:  31 Ability:  Empathy Faction:  ROSTEKS as a HACKER/SPY Faceclaim:  Lucy Liu Availability:  OPEN

THE STORY || CW:  Death, Violence, Blood

Even as a young girl, Larisa’s dark eyes would sparkle each time she watched the graceful figure skaters take to the ice, aspiring to one day be like them, to one day bring home multiple Olympic gold medals.  Her human parents were supportive, as they were always supportive about everything their daughter did, and even pushed her when she thought she could no longer go on, through the pains of sprained ankles and bruised hips.  Through perseverance, Larisa Tsoy and her partner, Sayoran, were an unstoppable duo that all the competitors hated yet aspired to be.  Her Human parents never would have suspected their daughter of being a Vila, so after she turned 12 and started to complain about “feeling weird” or having sudden mood swings, they chalked it up to puberty.  Sayoran, on the other hand, suspected Larisa was Vila.  Together, they determined she was an empath and could feel the emotions of others.  As partners in more than just ice dancing, they tried to find ways to help her control it.  Because they trusted each other implicitly, Sayoran promised to take her secret to the grave.  

For two years, Sayoran kept his promise.  

A bobby pin had fallen from another dancer’s hair onto the ice.  While holding Larisa in a curved lift, Sayoran’s skate struck this pin, causing him to lose balance and drop his partner as he fell. She would never forget the clash of red streaks upon white ice as the blade of her skate crashed down.  Her screams and sobs melded with his desperate gasps and gurgles as he clutched at the deep gash of his throat.  His eyes were wide with terror, terror that she could feel.  She could feel him choking on his own blood, the pain he felt.  Larissa screamed for help and while their coach ran for an EMT, she stayed with Sayoran.  She could feel it, his fear -- not just from dying, but from dying alone.  He didn’t need to speak a word as she gripped his fingers tightly, reassuring him, over and over, “I’m not leaving you.  I’m right here.”  She refused to let go of his hand when the paramedics arrived, but he was too far gone.   Larisa felt the last of Sayoran’s life drift out of his body as though it was her own, like ice water to her veins, making her numb but sensitive to everything around her.

After Sayoran’s death, Larisa wanted nothing to do with people.  She dreaded feeling that pain again, that hopelessness and fear.  Because their daughter had witnessed and been involved with something so traumatic, her parents never thought twice about Larisa locking herself away from the world.  She had seen counselors and therapists alike, but due to her empathy, she felt more judgment from them than sincerity.  She found refuge in computers; they were just things that had no feelings, but they were useful.  Eventually, she did brave the public for the sole purpose of obtaining degrees in Computer Science and Engineering.  Because she spent all her time with these machines, it wasn’t long before she was building her own computers and learning how to manipulate their uses to benefit herself and her parents.  Through forums, chat rooms, and eventually social media, Larisa learned she could still have a social life without ever having to leave her basement.  It was perfect, to just communicate with others without physical feeling what they felt.

Time and time again, she came across sites and forums created by humans who detested Vilas, some even plotted ways to destroy innocent Vila families.  Larisa would go into full-on hacktivist mode and bring these sites down, track down the users’ computers and do everything in her power not just to destroy their own machines, but their lives as well.  How dare they plot to hurt, let alone kill, innocent people?  It was through a twist of fate that she stumbled across information about the Rosteks, and agreeing with most of their Cause, did not hesitate to offer her services to them.  She now uses her hacking abilities to spy the various information exchanges between individuals and groups, and uses algorithms to track any “suspicious” activity.

THE CHARACTER

Online, Larisa is a very sociable person through messengers and video chats.  She is considered likable and has a dry wit that others find hilarious, able to defuse a heated conversation with her stellar sense of humor, not to mention knowledgeable about computers and certainly not above helping out a “nerd in need”.  Online, nearly everyone is equal and it does not matter if someone is Vila or Human and that is a large part of the appeal.  However, she takes great pride in striking down Humans who dare intend harm to Vilas regardless of affiliation.  

CONNECTIONS

Yana Czarevna Grekova - Several years ago, Larisa followed a lead that a science facility was conducting experiments on Vilas.  By happenstance, she came across Yana in the same forum discussion, quickly learning that the woman was a researcher for the Lesyas.  The hacker’s gut reaction was to investigate Yana, learning some basics … including her brief stent with the Rosteks.  Initially, Larisa thought befriending her would be her “in” to the Lesyas for the sake of obtaining information for the Rosteks, but she quickly discovered that the two had more in common than she had realized at first.  The beauty about computers was that you didn’t need to hear in order to read typed words, you didn’t need to be physically with someone to know how they felt, and you couldn’t read someone’s thoughts through a computer.  It wasn’t long at all before she considered Yana to be a true friend, though she keeps her Rostek affiliation a secret. Because Yana is a telepath, they have yet to meet in person, and Larisa prefers to keep it that way or she could risk losing everything.

Aleksey Zhu - Computer aficionados need a reliable supplier, and Zhu’s got the goods.  This technopath knows zir stuff and Larisa is happy to do business with zir.  In fact, Larisa goes as far as to not only vouch for Zhu’s authenticity and quality, but will even go as far as to organize requests and shipments for the Rosteks.  These two keep in close contact online and in person.  In fact, she sees a lot of Sayoran in Zhu, and is quite protective of zir, setting up firewalls and safety features to ensure her friend’s safety from cyber attacks.  Zhu is one of the few people Larisa doesn’t mind hanging out with on a regular basis, as she adores zir “toys” and the two will rarely run out of anything to talk about.  

Kirill Samuilovich Wolff - Larisa does know that Kirill is Shifr’s right hand man, and according to her sources, Shifr’s got his fingers in a lot of pies.  She learned that one of the reasons why he is so good at protecting Shifr is his empathy.  Looking deeper into his life, his family, his military service--and knowing her own personal experience with the same ability--she could only have respect for him coming out of it seemingly balanced … at least, in present day.  Though she does not know him personally, she respects him for his loyalty to his boss.  He actually seems like a nice guy when he’s not bashing in the heads of Shifr’s enemies.

Elena Vladimirovna Ostrovsky - One bad day was all it took and Larisa was in the Rostek gym, punching the shit out of a heavy bag. She was rusty, but she’d retained enough of her figure skating training regime to clumsily pick off where she’d started. Elena walked in on her throwing blow after blow, and suddenly she spoke: “You should go on a mission with me.” Larisa was stunned to silence, and then she was embarrassed. She started to pack her things and Elena’s expression grew defiant. Ever since, Elena’s been pestering Larisa to try being an assassin, a spy, a damn thief if that’s what it takes to get her off of her screen — but Larisa has none of it. She’d sooner chain herself to her monitor than join Elena on anything. 

Rashid Javed Bashir - Once upon a time, Larisa and Zhu visited a bar after hours, and though there were few people in attendance, they certainly were enjoying themselves … until this hunka hunka sexy cop walked through the door.  He was in his uniform, and because he was smiling and making nice with the bartender, Larisa was under the assumption (in her drunken state) that he just HAD to be a stripper.  Needless to say, they were both quite embarrassed when the bartender informed her that he was really a senior lieutenant and was just checking in after his shift.  Nevertheless, it was certainly an ice-breaker!  She finds him endearing, somewhat dorky, but always good for a laugh and a pick-me-up.  His natural optimism is something she actually enjoys being around and the two have remained good friends.  Though she can’t quite figure out if he’s Vila … or if he’s Human, and Vila police employees are notorious for lying on their records; however, she is leaning toward Vila as this cop refuses to use his gun with the Vila suppressant bullets.

[[ More Connections ]]

ETC

Because she hates crowds and being around people in general, she avoids shopping in public and will instead order everything online to have it delivered to her home.

Banks are easy targets for a woman of her skills and she will often transfer money in a Robin Hood-esque way … except she and the Rosteks are often the ones reaping the benefits. 

Larisa loves to dance and is very graceful with her movements.

Sometimes, she will dare to venture into public for the sake of a mission … though sometimes, she will do it to briefly socialize as long as it is a small group (such as after hours as a bar, restaurant, or movie theater). 

She lives in a large basement apartment at the Rostek Manor and refers to her “home base” as “The Citadel”, as an homage to her own given name.  It is filled with top-of-the-line equipment that is either extremely difficult or impossible to find anywhere else.