#fhr regina

[kidhellion]

LEAVE HIM ALONE!!! LEAVE NIKKI ALONE!!!

[aurriearts]

(image described in alt text)

regina and her doll(y)

[b33tlejules]

if my sidestep was real i'd terrorize them by spamming this image every time they pissed me off.

[glitchy-npc]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Sidestep (Fallen Hero), Regina (Fallen Hero) Additional Tags: Psychological Horror, Dehumanization, Emotional Manipulation, POV Regina Siepen Summary:

Regina wants nothing more than to relax after a long fruitless day at the Farm, until she receives an unexpected phone call.

[sidesteppostinghours]

saw somebody tag a post and now im curious:

[beastking-golion]

How do you learn more about sidestep’s past and discover regina? Cause like I’ve got her to be mentioned (not by name) but I see people talking about sidestep’s creation n I wanna know how I can get that 😭

[dogueteeth-fhr]

FHR-Specific Prompts

Hi hello I'm trying to get back to being active on Tumblr again so have a lil FHR-specific prompt list. Feel free to prompt me or post this on your page to have others prompt you or prompt yourself! Tag me if you write anything from here I'd love to read it ^^

"Oh, the PR team isn't going to like this"

HG family dinner (bonus if it's a dinner with a very awkward choice of +1).

"You didn't used to be like this."

Ortega talks about Hood.

Sparring with Chen when one of his mods goes awry.

Revisiting a place from the days on the run.

Revisiting the Heartbreak site.

Talking about Regina to someone.

A visit with Finch.

Attending Mortum's Halloween party.

Babysitting Spoon for a day.

Sidestep has a nightmare but Rat King is there to save the day.

Practicing regene language with Armadillo.

Sidestep reveals an important piece of their past to someone they hate.

[chaniters]

Tell me about your mother

“My mother was a scientist.” There. A clean answer. There are thousands of Scientists in Los Diablos alone, so it’s not saying much. “Oh, I’m sorry… she passed?” Ortega asks, thoughtfully. “Yes. A few years ago” you lie because dead scientists are notoriously less dangerous than living ones. “Where you two close?” He asks, staring into the bonfire. “We used to be when I was a lot younger?” you start, now knowing where your words will take you. “Fuck…I don’t know. She was complicated. Always obsessed with her work. Always fascinated by the latest discovery… And as I got older I guess I stopped being novelty anymore.” “Mierda. That’s rough Cye. I’m sorry to hear that.” He runs an arm behind your back, squeezing your shoulder as he passes you the beer. Your gaze goes to the base of the flames, staring at the white-hot coal lumps before taking a sip. “Did you love her?” he asks even further. Now that’s a question. All the horrors she created. The torture. The monstruosities. The experiments, the endless mind games. A thousand sins every day and she wouldn’t ever let it bother her. You glimpsed into her mind even, that one time… and you saw not even a hint of remorse. What you saw in there was…. “Yes. I loved her,” you state plainly. Are you lying? You wish you knew.

[impossible-rat-babies]

love regina being named regina bc it’s like wrow I already hate based on the name alone

[ambistep]

Presser

After the events at Los Diablos Air Force Base, a press conference is held. The new special liaison faces a tough crowd.

~1900 words, Retribution Spoilers, mind control and no proof-reading, sorry~

~

“You have to go out there. They asked for you by name,” Wei Chen looks up at the security feed from the press room - seats filling, guards posted - LDPD in tactical gear. Nobody’s called a state of emergency, not yet - but you can’t tell from the look of things. “You’ve done a hundred of these things, what’s the problem, Ortega?” He didn’t have to ask - but he wants to hear her say it.

“Bad enough coming to these things when we’re winning. We just got our asses kicked, Chen, we should be out there, kicking over every bolthole and abandoned building.” Ortega had let the makeup team touch up her bruises - not like her at all - but they had been ugly, and this whole conference was about putting a pretty face forward.

“Nobody was killed. We stopped the missile,” Chen points out. He doesn’t disagree, it was a loss, but he was trying to get Julia to work with him. 

“After it launched,” Ortega counters, “And Clarity and their goons got away with the arms.” And… everything was different about this one. Old, Clarity had called her, goading, warning her to stay down. Cracked her ribs this time - the suit was a piece of work - nothing Charge shouldn’t be able to handle but Clarity had her number. The villain had been warning her - not goading her, like most villains try, not boasting. A real warning, something that seemed sincere - which meant they didn’t think of the Rangers as the enemy, maybe even the opposite, and that worried her more than anything. 

Steel’s furrowed brow deepens, confessing his suspicions “We were meant to stop it - Clarity knew we would. It wasn’t a heist, it was a message.”

“A message, great.” Julia throws a hand up, “Where’s Angie, anyway? Should make her stand up on this stage. She’s the Clarity expert.”

He knows Ortega isn’t serious - both of them know better than to push Lady Argent in front of cameras in an official setting. Something down at your own peril. “Recovering,” Chen quickly clarifies, “Not hurt - just her pride - you know how she is when she loses.”  

Julia rubs at the side of her face, then stops - remembering the makeup. The headache persists, “Chen, why does it feel like we’ve lost control of the whole thing? Los Diablos used to be our city.” 

The current Marshal struggles for an answer - but before he can find one, an aide to Mayor Alvarez, waiting in the wings, gives a saccharine smile and a wave to him, flashing an okay sign. 

Chen sighs, “We’re on.”

~

The briefing room is packed tight - not meant to hold this much press, this much extra security, and the extra personnel from the cooperating agencies. The whole room is hot, crowded, tinged with anxiety. The press is feisty, out for blood, but Alvarez and Miller, for the city and the police respectively, do solid work fielding the questions with non-answers, assurances. Everything is under control. The Marshal and ex-Marshal stand in reserve, a show of support and cooperation from all corners - or scapegoat if needed. 

“Next question, Miss Ochoa?” 

“Major Miller, with this escalation, shouldn’t we be expecting a federal response? It was a military target, after all.”

Joshua Miller’s smile tightens - nobody in Los Diablos likes to talk about the federal government in their city, as a point of pride. “Actually, we’ve -”

“I can answer this one,” A cool voice from the back of the stage cuts the major off in his remark. A blonde woman just past her middle years, in an immaculate suit, a federal suit. Standing there, like an ordinary human being, a regular person. Smiling that smile, a smile that promises efficiency, structure, discipline. That compliance will be rewarded. A burning effigy, a symbol, a -... or just a woman, in a suit - like anyone else in the room. 

Miller nods and turns back to the audience, introducing his guest for the press, “Ladies and gentlemen, Regina King, Deputy Director for Developmental Test and Evaluation, Department of Defense.”

She rises to the podium, taking Miller’s place and adjusting the microphone height to suit her - she’s shorter than her air makes her seem. “To answer your question, Miss Ochoa, I’ve been sent to act as Special Liaison in this matter, only to monitor the situation while making sure Mayor Alvarez, Marshal Steel and local authorities receive whatever cooperation and resources they need in combating… lawlessness and terrorism here in the Free Economic Zone.”

The real message is hidden behind her teeth and eyes. We are watching. We are here to support our interests. We will aid you until you fail, and then it is our matter.

There is quiet, Alvarez and Miller, even Chen, watching their new special liaison with wary suspicion. Mia breaks the silence with a follow-up, “What’s the federal government’s interests here? National security? My reporting has shown a number of defense contractors were targets of this Clari-”

The woman doesn’t miss a step, cutting off the reporter before that name can be mentioned, “At the Department of Defense, all our interests are security.” A winning smile, that bland humor, doesn’t hide the irritation. She hates to submit to questions, from civilians. The contempt is beneath the surface, but someone who knows her could smell it. “A number of defense contractors have been targets of recent violence within this city and the surrounding areas - and the well-being of our private partners is a matter of serious concern. I’ll be coordinating responses between all parties involved, of course.”

There’s a laugh, unexpected and inappropriate, cutting through the tension of the briefing. The Rangers present stand a little straighter, all the security detail starts forward. The cameras shift from the podium to the source in the crowd, a reporter many years Mia’s junior, with a face for television. She rises in her seat, and Mayor Alvarez identifies the reporter for the momentarily uncertain Director King, “Veronica Sandoval, KTLD News.”

Veronica steps from her assigned seat, holding her microphone - everyone relaxes but for the Rangers. The reporter calls out, “What about the target of the missile launched yesterday?” She starts to walk toward the stage, something uneven in her steps, something unsteady in her voice. 

The KTLD camera man follows his reporter dutifully, even as Regina fields the question, her easy smile fading for an angered one, a polite, forced smile.  “At this time, the circumstances of yesterday’s incident at Los Diablos Air Force Base are still being investigated through regular channels - when they have that information, I’m sure a report will be made available to all members of the press.”

Sandoval continues to move toward the stage, intercepted by an LDPD officer holding out a hand, “Is it true that another facility was targeted, a non-military facility, one of your ‘private-public partnerships’, one south of Warm Springs, Nevada?” 

“I’m not sure which facility you mean.” The Deputy Director’s smile is gone entirely, a sour frown fixed to her face. Around her, the briefing room is filled with murmurs and clicking of cameras. Mayor Alvarez is looking to her aides for assistance, and Joshua Miller is quietly sweating as his officers move to restrain the reporter.

The KTLD camera man calls out, now more worried than concerned with holding the camera, “Roni, what’s gotten into yo-”

But she pays him no mind, calling out her accusations, “You know. You know, and I’m sure they would like to know too. You should tell them. Tell them what you do there!” Sandoval clings tightly to the microphone as a second and then a third officer moves to grab her and twist her arm. She fights with the officers even as gasps and panic sweep through the briefing room. Marshal Steel moves to cover Alvarez, and Charge steps up to stand before the Deputy Director. 

The strength seems to slip out of Veronica Sandoval, a pained groan before she passes out entirely. And then behind, a quivering cry from Joshua Miller as he rises from his seat, the LDPD Major’s eyes wide open in horror as his body seems to move beyond his control.  He pushes Alvarez from the podium - Steel catching her before she falls. The rest of the cops of the security detail start forward.

“What’s wrong with the major?”

“Sir?”

Miller’s eyes calm, his motions smooth, and he leans to the microphone, his voice taking on the same accusatory cadence as Sandoval’s, that same fury fills his eyes. “Tell them what you make there. Let them all see what you really are. I can see it crawling underneath your skin, Deputy Director.” Joshua Miller’s mouth hisses the strange words forced out of him with, “I tried to avoid this - I didn’t want to be involved in your world anymore. So now you’ll have to show them everything. Let them kno-” 

Wei Chen’s prosthetic grip puts an end to the major’s rant, a squeeze and punch to the gut from the marshal and Miller slips into unconsciousness, as Sandoval did. 

“Start EMS!”

“Get everyone out of here!”

A gunshot coaxes the murmurs of the press room into a symphony of cries.

One of the officers that had restrained Sandoval rises up, a fresh-faced LDPD patrolman, and turns to face the podiums now, a calm passing over him, then an anger twisting his face. His hand loosely holds his sidearm, discharged at the ground, “Let them know everything. Why not? Aren’t you proud of the monsters you’ve made? Aren’t you proud of me?” 

Other offices are drawing their weapons now, pointing them at their colleague - panic has reached a fever pitch, but the cameras still roll. Across the city, it must be quite a show - in diners and offices, on city streets, all across every screen. 

“It took a lot of work, but I’ve finally brought you here.” A manic smile fixes to the officer’s face as he unholsters his gun, “Welcome to Los Diablos, Regina King. Welcome to my city.” He levels it at the deputy director, possessed in all meanings of the word, out of his mind.

…

There is a hint of panic in her eyes when the gun is drawn, and if nothing else of your plan ever goes right again, then that fear in Regina’s eyes may be enough to make everything else worth it. You wish you were watching through your own eyes, and not this stranger’s - it isn’t the same, you can’t quite taste the fear, as you imagine you could with your own body.

But then her expression hardens. She reaches inside the coat of the bodyguard shielding her and pulls out a handgun and promptly levels it at the back of Julia Ortega’s head, finger on the trigger. Hot, boiling panic rises in you - in your own body, but this puppet’s too. 

She says nothing but holds the gun with unsettling stillness, even as a bewildered Charge turns to face her, “What the hell?!”

But the director doesn’t have to explain. The message is clear. She knows who is pulling these strings, and she still knows how to hurt you. Just like always. 

You begin to loosen your control of the officer, forcing words through the officer’s lips as you let him lower his gun. “Careful,” the man’s voice, your words, “Your mask is slipping, Regina. They’ll see you for what you are.”

Around the briefing room, amid the panic, the cameras still hold on the strange stand-off between the cop, the Special Liaison, and the hero Charge. Regina starts to lower the gun she holds, even as you slip out of this man’s mind, leaving the chaos behind, and back to your own thoughts.

All part of the plan, right?

[arlathen]

sometimes.....i see people talking about fallen hero stuff.....n im like....ok i missed something 

[glitchy-npc]

bonus points for explanations!

[chaniters]

Caterpillar and the wasp

"You know the story about Darwin and the wasp?" "Enough with the Darwinist bullshit!" "I thought you wanted answers. Are you not going to let me explain? You're the one who stormed my facility. You're the one with the gun now, you could just silence me forever if you want instead." "… if you are stalling for time…" "It'll be short, I promise." "Go on then." "Darwin studied a kind of wasp you know, parasitic in nature. This wasp would attack caterpillars and place its eggs in them, while the caterpillar was still alive. These eggs would then hatch into larvae, and the larvae would feed on the Caterpillar, still alive mind you, and it would take them a while to devour it. They would not eat the brain mind you, they would leave it there to die a slow death. These larvae would then turn into more wasps and repeat the process." "Is this going somewhere?" "Darwin" she continues, ignoring your remark "Made note of the amount of suffering in nature, in so many examples. The Wasp was just one of them. He made note that no benevolent omniscient creator could have designed such an arrangement. Suffering is part of nature, it's a fact we can't avoid looking at." "… so that's your reason? Sufferings all around us so deal with it? Are you saying that's the reason you tortured and killed so many of us!!!!?!" "You say I inflict suffering, but I only follow my nature, as all of humanity does. I was hoping my work could change that though. If I found a way to break nature's bind on us forever, I could have created heaven." It's a conscious effort not to just pull the trigger and be done with it at this point. "Heaven will have to wait then. The caterpillar has no choice in this example you mentioned… It's time for the wasp to pay"

[ambistep]

Going Home Again

i promised i’d do more kissing and soft stuff, but i wrote this whole thing in 20 minutes because it just fell out of my brain

excessive angst, excessive words, retribution spoilers, tw: violence (choking), small mention of blood, abuse maybe

She’s still taller than you - you’ve grown a bit in these few years, but she’s still taller. Well, it doesn’t help that you’ve got her pinned against the wall, bracing to crush her windpipe. The only thing stopping you is… What? What’s stopping you?  Where is this? Looks like a Clean Room, but moving - a truck. Going back. Going back. I’m not going back. No, no NO no. You’re crying - what is going on? Adrenaline is spiking - someone gave you a shot - you know you should be tired, unconscious... You were… gone out the window, and then the sun was shining and someone picked you up. Thought it was Ortega. No. Only hoped it was Ortega. Ortega was never rough like that.

“What’s wrong, Mina?” The hell is she so calm for? You could kill her, why did she- she shouldn’t say tha-

“Don’t say that name, y-you’re not allowed, you can’t know that name, please, I-” You can’t stop the words coming out, how are you even standing, you don’t have any legs, no arms, no body, just… hot tears on your cheeks, and fingers on her throat - those don’t move. Head like pulverized masonry, heart jackhammering wildly.

“They said you liked to be called that.” Her voice is soothing like a lobotomy, cutting out your aggression, undermining everything you are in a way it shouldn’t be. You start to squeeze.

You could crush a sun with your fury, everything inside you is blistering and melting and smoldering with rage. They can’t do this, can’t…It isn’t fair. You had a name, and… a bed, and people who… you had a phone, where is your phone? They’re taking this all, they took your phone, you know they did, they wouldn’t let you have your phone when you go back, and you are going to put your nails through her throat, nails that you let grow, and that you had painted with Themmy - noNOnodontTHINKaboutherthatHURTS. 

But you can’t do any of this, you just hold her neck in your hands. You can’t squeeze, and you can’t shout, or snarl. All you do is cry, and sob. And beg. You have to ask her, for permission, “Please… Don’t make me go back, I want to stay. I have… things. People…” Your anger is boiling the back of your eyes, but it can’t come past that, you can’t show her how angry you are. Anger isn’t allowed. You’re a good girl. Girl? No, that’s not right.

She smirks - she had been calm before, but now you can see where she *had* been worried, scared, terrified that you would actually do it. Not anymore, now she is more than calm, she is confident, “I know you do, Mina, but that’s not a place for you. You know that.”

You can’t disagree, not really, “It could be… I was… It was going to work, I could make it.” You feel your grip loosen. It shouldn’t it shouldn’t stop grab her grab her and choke and throttle and escape get out of here.

“No, you know that’s not right. The game’s over. You need to stop lying to those people - it’s only going to get everyone hurt.” She’s right, it’s hurting everyone. You liar. Lied when you said you cared about them. You’re for infiltration. There’s no mystery, it’s just what you do. Wrapped Ortega around your finger. Stole a kiss - she’d never have done that if she knew. 

No, no, Ortega isn’t like that, doesn’t… doesn’t use people, wouldn’t play you like that, the world isn’t like that, people don’t just… do that, lie, all the time.  But you do. NO stop it, Mina not Mina. Smile. Back straight. Behave for Regina. Stop thinking - definitely don’t cry. Where’s Ortega? Chen, what happened in the houseNo, fix your posture, seven steps to the door smile truck taking highway out of town - no, behave - going to an airstrip to catch a flight - take a hostage. Plan, analyze, find the way out, an exit. Can’tthinkcan’t too much smileSmilebehaveclearyourminddontthinkaboutmyfriendsanathemadontthinkaboutburningaboutfleshSMILE be good don’t think i want to go home i want to go home i wanttogohome...

Too much, too many things. Mirror is breaking, cracks, lines all down your face, you can’t see, but you know your face is broken. There’s hot tears, and blood, from somewhere, lacerations reopened. You smile, smile politely, because you can’t do anything else, and your hands, finally, not your hands, but the hands on this woman’s throat begin to squeeze. “I’m sorry,” you apologize, because that’s what you do. It’s polite. “Sorry…” And squeezing. She doesn’t look confident anymore, that makes you happy, so happy. You think maybe it’s a real smile now.

She’s choking on her words, you’re not sure what she’s saying but it doesn’t matter. Nothing she could say could change thi-

“Good soldiers,” gurgling, strained gasping, “follow orders.” A stupid thing to say, what does that even mean? But those fingers loosen around her neck, bloody nails lift up from broken skin, no no no.

“Good soldiers follow orders.” She repeats.

“God, what…? Why are you… stop it, please… don’t…” Don’t say it again. The warmth in you, the anger that could smother stars, it’s fleeing, going far away, slipping. Your head is… soft, full of cotton.

“Good soldiers follow orders.” At some point, you’d let go of her. She’s standing over you. Your muscles tighten, you could still… hit her, throw a left hook, like… like Ortega had shown you. She’s reached in her pocket, fished out a small silver pen that fills you with fear. Don’t know why, it does. Everything she does terrifies you - all the more reason to kill her, kill her now - but there’s no fire, no heat in your thoughts anymore. It’s too hard.

You’re crying again, nothing your body does makes any sense to you anymore. “It hurts.” 

She holds up the narrow pen, soft, orange light pulsing at the tip, flashing across your face. It doesn’t hurt - feels comforting in a way, but you don’t want to feel comfortable. “Well, what did you expect? There’s ‘going off mission,’ and then there’s what you’ve done.”

You need to fight. Reach out, grab that fury, but you can’t, it’s far, and your grasp is small. You’re cold now, shivering. The hot tears are just… luke warm and sticky on your cheeks now. You’re on your knees, on the ground. “I’m sorry.” You are sorry. Just look at you. 

“Are you?” Blinking. Orange. Lights. You can only see her bloodied, red neck now, can’t see her face, your eyes bleary, unable to clear the orange blot. 

She’s asking you a question. Answer her. Are you sorry? You ungrateful, spoiled thing. Nasty, sneaky. If you had been good… you’d have gone home. “I know, I shouldn’t… I should have come home. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please…” Maybe if you just asked? “...can I just, I want to tell her-” Warning bells, no, don’t say her name, don’t give them that, don’t let them know. Those little human pieces - like crushes, you remember now, you’re not supposed to have them, if you let them know, they’ll take them away. 

“Do you know why we selected you?” She paces around you, and all you can do is watch the shiny leather of her shoes. “You performed so well - other assets performed well too. But you responded so well to our reinforcement, your behavior was so, so good. Others misbehaved, or started to deviate, but your impulse scores were low. You never acted out, never raised your voice. You were a model.”

She sighs, sitting down at the flimsy metal table fixed to the middle of the mobile safe room, “When they told me you hadn’t reported back yet, I thought for sure you’d been destroyed. There was no way this one would go off mission, I thought.” She sounds so aggrieved, so… wounded. Irritated. Fuck her, fuck her. You can think it, but you can’t act it, you’re cold and numb, and there’s no anger available to grab. “I’m just… I’m so disappointed in you, Mina.”

Against all logic, her disappointment cuts you wide open - it hurts. “Please… don’t call me that, it was wrong. I was wrong. I know…” Just… don’t be mad at me. Please don’t be mad. You can’t be Mina. Mina doesn’t belong here. Mina is Sidestep, Sidestep is a hero, with Marshal Charge, and Steel, and… and.. God. Burning. Caustic. Don’t cry, or she’ll get mad. Can’t be Mina, don’t be Sidestep. Not here. They’ll take her away, poison that name, ruin it for you. 

“Well. If you insist,” as though she’s doing you some grand favor - and she is, sparing that name. She doesn’t know that. “Stand up, you look like an animal down there.” You’re not an animal. Not a person either. But you’re supposed to act like one, when you’re outside of Home. You take the other seat, at the other side of the table, looking down, not daring to make eye contact. “Wipe that sour look off your face and smile. You’re going home.”

You do smile a little. Everything hurts so much to think about, so it’s almost a blessing now, not to think about what had happened, what had been in your head. Just behave, and you won’t have to think about the broken glass in your stomach shaped like people Mina cared about but would never see again. That’s not you, not here. 

It isn’t safe for Mina. Not yet. Yet. Yet. That small little word carves out a corner in the back of your mind. ‘Yet’ tastes like chocolate cake and kisses, and maybe something like hope. It is the only warmth you can feel here. Everything good is buried away behind ‘yet,’ waiting for the time when it will be okay. 

Patience.

[impossible-rat-babies]

fhr for the blorbo meme

me slapping my hands together like thank you friend <3

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most): ortega. or hell sidestep in general the two biggest blorbos ;—; pollux my nasty blorbo

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped): Anathema ;—; they’re just so much of a shape huh

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave): the handyman. he’s got a quip about “the right tool for the job” and it makes me snort laugh. or jake ngl but he’s more. scrunkly (and anathema ofc)

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week): LOCUS I s2g I am gonna wjeneneeneme HER I know she’s gonna show up. Ohogogog ashfall too ;—;

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave): sidestep djdjdjdjr no wait, heartbreak <3

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason): regina <3 or hollow ground

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell): the puppet fuck the puppet