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silhouetteonpaper · 1 month ago

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Red Remains

Summary: The Red Room will always haunt you, just as much as it haunts your girlfriend. The two of you can only hope to take down the Red Room once and for all, but something stands in your way. That’s when you’re forced to choose between the love of your life, and your biggest enemy: your father. Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader WC: 3,545 Warnings/Themes: Gun use, mentions of being a Widow, blood, death, trauma, major angst, fluff A/N: I can’t stop writing angst it’s actually a problem, but I’m really proud of this one!

“There’s a letter for you.” Natasha informed you, her voice still raspy after her morning run. She had just returned into the warmth of the compound, grabbing the mail on her way back up the long driveway. Littered amongst random bills and packages—likely full of Tony’s random parts he’d needed for a new project—was the simple white envelope.

She originally invited you on her early morning jog—just like she does every day, but you declined. It was too cold for you, the winter air already seeping under your skin. You were perfectly content inside, and Natasha knew that. You always preferred to be tucked away in the cozy living room. It didn’t hurt for her to ask though, and she always would.

You weren’t expecting any mail, but gratefully took the envelope as she handed it over. “Huh, wonder who it’s from.” You thought aloud, quickly noticing the lack of a return address on the back. Your furrowed brow was short lived as Natasha planted a kiss on the top of your head, capturing your full attention as you turned to give her a real kiss.

The two of you leaned into one another, her leaning over the couch. You could feel the chill that had settled on her cold lips, your warmth slowly melting it away. “I’m going to go shower, let’s do breakfast after.” She eventually pulled away, squeezing your shoulder before leaving you alone on the couch. With the envelope still in hand, you studied it. Not a crinkle or fold in sight, the compound’s address written in black ink on the back. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it had been months since you last received mail—and that was just your aunt sending a happy birthday card.

Shrugging, you ripped open the seal, pulling out the small paper inside. The note was brief, yet it made your heart skip a beat.

The corner of 29th and 54th, tonight at 10:00pm. Go alone.

A request for your presence, or more a demand. You didn’t need to question who the sender was, you already knew. Your father’s jagged cursive writing, sprawled across the paper. He wanted to meet up with you for the first time in years; but knowing him, it wouldn’t be the usual reunion between father and daughter.

As a child, you were raised in the Red Room. Days spent training to be the best agent, the most intelligent spy, and the finest daughter a father could ask for. Your father was the head of recruitment for the Red Room; so devoted to his job that he recruited his own daughter. From the age of four, you were molded into a Widow. Even as a toddler, most of your days were spent among the sinister walls of the Red Room. You didn’t have a choice, it was your entire family’s livelihood. Or what was left of your family anyway.

That’s how you met Natasha, two souls bonded over a lifetime of traumatic history—now living peacefully on the other side of the war. When she had initially been rescued, you were left in the dust. Due to your relationship with the department head, they assumed you’d be in cahoots with the organization. But they couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

There was always a part of you that longed for an escape, that had hoped to see the world outside of your father’s corrupt lenses. This can’t be it, you’d repeat to yourself night after night in an attempt to stay sane—to keep hope alive. Outside of the Red Room, there had to be more of a purpose for young girls; you couldn’t give that last shred of motivation up.

Eventually, the rescue team came back—this time with a certain redhead on their side. She was the one who insisted they returned to rescue you, along with a few new stragglers. With the two of you freed from the retrains of the Red Room, there was no stopping the relationship you were forced to swallow day after day in those walls. You both grew into the best versions of yourselves—taking the Widow training and turning into something better. Two Widows turned Avengers, a nearly perfect tale.

But it wasn’t so perfect in the end, considering your father was blood and blood is connected for life. That was what he used to say, repeating it every day until it was ingrained in you; until it seeped within the very blood that kept you alive. Natasha of course had an opinion on this, but she had her own complicated history with family. No one could know what it was like to betray your father like that, not even Natasha.

She insisted you cut all ties with him, so you did. It was for the best, especially when every reminder of the Red Room was like a punch to the gut. After that, she wasn’t going to push any harder, especially when the mission to kill Dreykov was in full fruition. You knew she wouldn’t dare go near your father, she couldn’t. As much as she wanted to strangle every Red Room official, she wasn’t going to betray your trust.

Yet it would never be that simple; when Dreykov was killed, your father took over. Now there was a huge target on his back, and the worst part is he knew that. He knew your girlfriend wanted to kill him, but the appeal to your trust kept his name out of hot water. He knew Natasha was loyal, but also a Widow he raised himself. He knew you both too well.

The second you and Natasha learned your father took over, you made it a priority to sit down and talk about it. She expressed her concern about all the little girls that would be hurt next, and you validated that. Neither of you wanted a repeat of the Red Room. In turn, you shared how he’s your father, and that you can’t kill him. She validated that. Neither of you wanted to destroy the small pieces of your families that were still left.

So you were both stuck at a stalemate, trying your hardest to keep the Red Room in check without dealing a life-ending blow to the man in charge. It was infuriating for Natasha, yet she kept that hidden. You felt guilty every day, yet you kept that hidden.

You were unsure what his request for a meeting tonight was about, but you didn’t like the sound of it. You didn’t like how much he knew, or how much power he had. But the thing that worried you the most was what would Natasha think? Surely she’d want to come—watch from afar and make sure you were safe. But if things got heated… she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot first and ask later. That was what scared you.

The idea that next crossed your mind made you feel even more guilty. What if you didn’t tell Natasha? You both had been inseparable since becoming official, but some things were meant to be done alone, right? You’d told each other everything, communicated efficiently… it would kill you to break that streak. But it would hurt even worse if she tried to kill your father when she had the chance.

So you made a decision; get tonight over with without telling Natasha. You could easily execute the plan, seeing as you are a Widow—taught to maneuver through even the toughest of challenges. But Natasha is exactly the same, a spy raised to be aware of everything. For your meeting to go untraced, you’d have to concoct a lie.

The second Natasha returned to the living room with damp hair, you realized how hard it would be to walk on eggshells; hyper aware of how you were behaving so she wouldn’t sense anything was off. “I’m going to make pancakes, want some?” You asked, deciding it would be easier to keep yourself busy.

“I’d love some, thank you.” Her response was soft, and the guilt inside you grew. Since the Red Room, you had both become different people—putting the lying and hiding behind you. It was a part of your job as a Widow, to withhold information and practically become a different person. But now, your only job was supposed to be ‘loving girlfriend’. If only you could be both at the same time.

Luckily, the day didn’t progress terribly. You were able to form out a plan, acting enthusiastic when regaling Natasha on how your ‘old friend’ reached out to grab drinks. “She wants to meet up at a bar in the city, I’ll just be gone for an hour or so.” You explained, getting no push-back from the redhead. You were a social person, always picking up new friends here and there even in your few years out of the Red Room. It was believable enough, or at least you’d hoped so. Natasha hadn’t said anything, and if she was suspicious she wasn’t showing it. All good signs of getting away with your lie. She trusted you, thankfully, but that made this whole situation break your heart even more.

As day turned into night, the clock began to near 10:00pm. The cool leather of your jacket slid on with ease, a warm outer-layer to keep you protected from the night’s chill. It was time; the mystery meeting with your father that had the chance to change everything. You weren’t sure what to expect from him, but your gut said it wouldn’t be good.

“I’m headed out!” You called out into the abyss of the compound, knowing Nat would hear you.

Sure enough, her voice echoed up the hall. “Have fun! Love you!” She doesn’t suspect a thing. Your heart ached, but this was something you had to do. You laced on your boots, making sure you had everything before adventuring into the city. That’s when your eyes met something strange, hidden inside one of the various shoes lined up by the front door. A pistol, tucked away in one of Natasha’s boots. Sighing, you assumed it was one of her many hidden guns. She had always tucked away protection in various places, just in case. Ultimately, it was smart on her part. Tonight, you were going to need something, just in case. So, you pocketed the gun—even if you were sure you wouldn’t have to use it.

The cool air hit your cheeks with a harsh gust of wind as the front door opened. No wonder you hated winter. Persisting through the chill, it was time to face tonight head on. Journeying to the city by subway was easy, even easier than worrying about the tracking devices on all the compound’s vehicles. Hiding your secret meeting was the difficult part, but not nearly as difficult as what you went through in the Red Room. And you were about to re-hash that nightmare face-to-face with the man who caused it all.

The city lights at night were breathtaking, almost as much as the anxiety you swallowed the second your feet hit the corner of 29th street. Your steps were soft on the concrete, a subconscious habit after learning what happens when a Widow wasn’t stealthy. His constant reminders kept repeating in your head. Don’t let them see you falter. Don’t let them see the girl behind the figure of a woman.

“My beautiful daughter.” His voice harshly echoed in your ears, making you unsure if your mind was still playing tricks or if he was somewhere nearby. Your head turned so quickly you nearly got whiplash. “Always staying vigilant, I see?” Sure enough, he was right there. The man with a stern expression and furrowed eyebrows that never relented. But now he had gray hairs peeking out, maybe a stronger prescription of glasses, and a tone in his voice that he didn’t deserve to use. Like he knew you as a daughter, and not a weapon.

“How can I not, when I’m so used to the knives in my back at every corner?” You retaliated, unafraid of his threatening presence. You were too bitter to let him get away without a few jabs.

“I gave you everything, yet I couldn’t teach you to be grateful, eh?” His words were even sharper than knives in your back, yet you wouldn’t dare flinch under his gaze. You couldn’t, not when he’d raised you to be one of the best teenage assassins known to humankind.

You crossed your arms, keeping your posture meticulously straight. “Why’d you want to meet?” He chuckled lightly, like the meeting was a light and airy reunion between two family members.

“All business, I did teach you well after all.” It took everything in you not to throw a punch, making him eat his words—or even regret his actions. Instead, you kept your arms crossed, fingernails digging into the leather of your jacket. “Natasha, that girlfriend of yours. I don’t like how much she’s in my face, like a fly on a hot day. Every day, I wake up and see her cohort of agents trying to dig their way into my system. It’s annoying, really. I just swat them away, and zap, a graveyard of flies.”

Your eyes narrowed. He was threatening you. He was threatening Natasha. But he wasn’t done yet. “And to think, my own creation—Natasha, betraying me like this? She was a waste of time, a waste of potential really.” He was trying to get you angry—and the worst part was, it was working.

The man before you didn’t feel like a father. He felt like a stranger. A stranger who was threatening the only person who made you feel like you were loved. Your father was the reason you felt you’d never be loved, yet somehow in the end it was his actions that led you to Natasha. A perfect storm of terror turned into something beautiful, but in the end he would continue his path of destruction no matter what. You needed to end the cycle.

You didn’t know when it happened, but suddenly you realized your hand was tracing around the figure of the pistol in your jacket pocket. Like a kid fidgeting with a loose thread, your fingers were entertained by the idea of pulling it out. The droning of his voice was almost asking for it, one silver bullet to end his reign of destruction for good.

“You think you’re so clever.” You started, hand gripping the gun as your words formed.

He chuckles abrasively. “I would hope so, running an elaborate system of Widows and all.”

For once, you smiled. Not at his words, but at the humor of the situation. It was almost too perfect. “No, you’re so focused on the next girl whose life you’re going to ruin, you’re not even worried about your own daughter. You think that just because I’m blood, I could never really betray you.” Each word was punctuated with your building anger, but he wasn’t intimidated in the slightest.

“Ah, don’t be so bitter you don’t get all the attention these days. I did reach out to you, no?” He almost made it seem like a joke. And that was the final straw. You drew your gun, the barrel pointed dead-center of your father’s head. Like a lost apology that never made its way to you, you were going to be the bigger person and return it anyway.

The click of the gun rang inside your ears; your father’s widened eyes were priceless. “I wonder if blood is connected through life and death?” Your remark made him silent, too silent. You’d never heard him quiet for that long. No insults, no comments, no excuses. He knew it was time, he’d pushed too far.

The echo of the bullet felt like your father’s words were ricocheting inside your mind. The vibration of the gun in your hand made you feel like a Widow with a task. And you carried it out to perfection. His body was limp, a slow fall to the ground like your future after he wrapped his dirty hands around it. He hadn’t brought protection, he didn’t think he would need it with his own daughter. His own blood. You had betrayed him, and you didn’t even flinch.

You didn’t run with urgency back to the compound; your steps were calm and quiet. The empty subway screeched the entire ride home, yet you couldn’t hear it over the loudest silence that had ever plagued your mind. His drilling voice, his orders, his never-satisfied ego, it was gone. And there was nothing taking up the empty space.

“How was getting drinks with-“ Natasha’s eager voice cut off in mere seconds. Her first sighting of you was your stoic expression, emotionless. But even more concerning than that was the blood splattered across your shirt. “What the hell happened?” She wasn’t angry, but her voice was louder than usual. It bounced across the empty space in your mind.

You dropped the gun on the floor, brushing past Natasha with an unwavering expression of apathy painted across your face. You’d never acted this way before, let alone taken a gun anywhere but on missions since becoming an Avenger. You didn’t like violence. But this wasn’t you, this was who your father left in his stead. A Widow.

“Babe… What's going on? Her words were cautious, almost like she was scared of you. But Widows don’t get scared. That’s what your father said, what he forced you to believe. Widows weren’t allowed to feel, to think. They just did what they were told.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure what to do with your body. No one was ordering you to do anything… yet your mind couldn’t think for itself. In the silence, the words escape your lips in a desperate attempt to keep the overbearing emptiness at bay. “I killed him.”

Your words didn’t have much meaning to Natasha. “You killed who?” She stepped toward you slowly without any sudden movements. You didn’t know it, but she could sense the feeling that you were falling back into the habits of a Widow. She lived it herself, afterall. Your minimal movements, like waiting for your next order—unphased by any past actions. It was easy to see the presence of a Widow seeping to the surface.

“I killed my father. The Red Room will collapse once and for all.” Your words should’ve been a relief, but they hit Natasha like a kick to the stomach. It would knock her down, but she’d bounce back. You knew it was what she wanted. You did it for her. For both of you.

She didn’t speak—instead, Nat walked right up to you, her eyes locked on yours. The warm glint was absent from your gaze, pupils unfocused and hazy. She placed both her hands on either side of your face, hoping to provide any of that missing warmth you needed so desperately. She scanned your expression for a sign of the person that left the compound mere hours ago, but only the ghost of a young girl remained.

“Why did you do it?” She asked like a parent questioning their kid about stealing candy. Natasha would’ve never guessed you’d pull the trigger yourself—not because you weren’t capable, she could never force another to kill their own father. She always expected it would be her to finish the job. But that narrative was only her imagination, and there you were standing with his blood on your hands.

“I should have done it years ago, before he ruined the lives of so many more.” And there it was, a tear rolling down your cheek. The presence of empathy slowly returning, yet still clouded by the nothingness inside. You had nothing left to give. Nothing left to speak for.

“Hey,” Natasha’s voice remained soft, her thumb moving to wipe the tear away. “No one could’ve asked you to kill blood. You did it on your own terms, and that’s all I wanted for you.” Those words were all it took for you to sob; streams of tears falling down your face, your knees quickly giving out as you fell into Natasha’s arms.

The biggest monster in your closet was gone, and you were terrified to see the emptiness. Sometimes, the darkness itself is even scarier than what might be inside it. Because it left you alone. But you weren’t alone, even without any family left. You still had your past, and she was holding you in her arms as you cried.

She wasn’t going to let go, not until the Widow remaining inside of you was smothered out with love. And you weren’t going to leave her, even if that meant waking up to see your past everyday—you wouldn’t change it for the world. Because Natasha wasn’t just your past, she was the reason for your future. She was the reason you lived to fight another day, and not just as a Widow. As a woman, who had the agency to finally fight for herself. That’s when you realized you were no longer the remnants of a broken Widow. You were finally the girl you wished to be all those years ago; a girl loved by someone she loved in return.

#marvel #mcu #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader

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shadowqueenjude · 7 months ago

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For Day 3 of @tamlinweek , I am posting part of my Tamlin fic (Tamlin's Life Story: A Tragedy)! We are told that the mating bond is beautiful and everything everyone should wish for, but I don't believe Tamlin has a very good experience with the mating bond; his own parents were mated and terrible for each other.

So, this is a little dark, but what if Tamlin's mate was Amarantha? It would explain her obsession with him. Tamlin, by rejecting Amarantha in that little gathering (right before she took the High Lords' powers), rejected the mating bond and incited rage in Amarantha. What was it like for Tamlin when he first met Amarantha, when he was forced to be with her UTM, and after he killed her? Full fic can be found here: TW: mild descriptions of child SA, violence, angst

He still dreamt of it. When he was just a child, and he'd seen the Hybern general for the first time. Red hair with streaks of black, like her hair had been soaked with so much blood that it had mostly changed color, the streaks the only remnant of her that hadn't been corrupted. When he'd longed for acceptance from his father, receiving nothing but the barbed whip across his back for being a failure of a courtier, for playing his fiddle for the handsome Night Court lord he couldn't help but love, Amarantha had spoken to him.

She'd embraced him and told him he was worth every last bit of Prythian, and their mating bond had clicked in. So what if she caressed his chest far too possessively to be casual? So what if she grabbed him through his pants, sometimes squeezing hard enough to cause pain? She had told him he was valuable. That was more than his father ever did. The scars on his back were so numerous that nobody would be able to count them. But while Amarantha left bruises, none of them stayed.

It was only when she'd tried to strip him that he'd begged her to stop. He told her he was too young, that he was scared, that he had no idea what he was doing, that he wasn't comfortable with a sexual relationship at this point in time. In her rage, she'd ripped his antlers out with her bare hands and carved out his abdomen with them. It was only by a miracle that he'd escaped that place. He'd barely made it to his father, who'd saved his life.

Only to give him the worst beating of his life. By the time it was done, Tamlin was crying tears of blood. Yet, that wasn't the worst pain in the world. No, it was nothing compared to the hollow feeling in his chest. The golden thread, his last hope for joy in this world, snapped in one moment. The mating bond. He was in such torment that he was sure it would kill him. Unfortunately, he lived. And lived. And lived.

*********************************************************************** He lost track of the days. He couldn't remember his own name. He remembered nothing. At least in his earlier days of pain and abuse and sexual assault and torture, he'd felt something. There was meaning to his life, a hope for better. But now...it was an endless sea of agony. There were no coherent thoughts in his brain, only a dull, throbbing ache that sought to take him under and finish it. He wished it would. He prayed that the yawning blackness would simply embrace him. Unfortunately, it didn't. It was almost worse this way, that he'd gotten the taste of what it was like to have the semblance of a happy life, only to have it ripped away from him at the last moment.

He tried to remember something, anything, to make him keep going. Feyre, a phantom voice sometimes whispered. Lucien. But the burning pain quickly whisked those words away. He did not understand their significance, anyway. They sounded like made up words. Soon, he stopped trying to remember. He'd forgotten what he was fighting for. Amarantha demanded answers out of him that he couldn't give- she didn't understand that he was broken. Nothing she did to him could break him when he was already in pieces.

Until she came. Until suddenly breath returned to his lungs and he had a reason to breathe again. And reason to be absolutely terrified. He begged her to go, but she didn't. She stood there, bold as brass, and claimed him as her own. And Tamlin had never loved anyone more. He watched her get tortured, and he felt again. Rage and sorrow beyond a human's dizziest daydreams, but it was feeling. When the court had adjourned, Lucien had snuck over to him. His face was pale and ragged, but Tamlin also glimpsed something there he hadn't seen in a while: hope. Just the slightest glimpse of it.

"I swear to you, Tamlin," Lucien whispered, hands on his face, staring into his eyes, clouding Tamlin's senses, "I will do whatever it takes to keep her alive. Everything within my power, I will do it." Oh, Lucien. His bold, brave, selfless Lucien. Tamlin choked out the words, "Thank you." Lucien's face hardened with resolve. "Thank me by never giving in. No matter what happens, don't you dare give up." Tamlin stared into his beautiful mismatched eyes. "I swear it." **********************************************************************

However Tamlin had felt under the mountain, it was gone now.

Now that everything had settled back in, he could feel it. The mating bond threatening to split him in two. He'd rejected his own mate and then he'd killed her. And now it drove him mad at times.

Lucien was no longer enough to help him. He hired Ianthe to help with the wedding preparations, and he tried to forget his pain. He succeeded for the most part, his trauma only coming back to haunt him at night. Amarantha touching him, Lucien's broken back before him, Feyre's neck snapping-

It was the mating bond that bothered him most of the time. It was like a migraine that just wouldn't go away. His temper, which wasn't the best, he could admit, got much worse owing to the constant migraine. But how could he tell anyone his secret shame- that he'd been mated to Amarantha? That there was once a time he'd sought comfort in her?

He couldn't let her train. Ianthe was right. What if they came after her? What if her power drew Rhysand back? He couldn't allow that. He'd heard her neck snap, heard it in his dreams again and again and again and-

"Please, let her train," Lucien pleaded. Tamlin tried to concentrate on him over the roaring in his head. "Let her master this, so that she can protect herself when enemies come."

At the word enemies, Tamlin's entire body seized up. Magic exploded out of him, falling on Lucien and blasting him backward. Lucien glared at him, loathing simmering in his eyes. But he said nothing after that; only walking away before Tamlin could get on his knees and beg for his forgiveness.

#lucien vanserra #tamlin #tamlin week 2024 #feyre archeron #feylin #tamcien #pro tamlin #angst #amarantha

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pleasantspark · 4 months ago

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Forever & Ever - Chapter Two (Always and Forever) Frieza x Fem! Frieza Race OC Genre: Horror/Romance(?) Tropes: Yandere Part of The F&E Series Warnings: Possessiveness, Frieza (Because he's a whole ass warning in of itself), Sexism, Forced Gender Roles, Misogyny, Internalized Misogyny, Stalking, Implied Offscreen Death, Death, Yandere Behavior, Canon Divergent, Impossible Logic, DBZ Logic, Pregnancy, Abusive Relationships, Gaslighting, Toxicity, Manipulation AUs Utilized: Frieza Redemption Arc AU (Separate Arc, a COMPLETE different whatif) Frieza Race Overhaul Doc Used! Please check for it here: x

It's been exactly weeks.

Or months...

She couldn't know, she's been here for awhile, long enough to know she's now pregnant. Fear coursed through her body... And a feeling of... Repulsion.

Repulsed about the pregnancy...

Repulsed about the person who got her here.

Repulsed about everything.

She had tried to find ways to escape the ship but Frieza had thought ahead and kept her captive. She was locked in a room that could only be described as a cell. No windows, the door had a little sliding slit where her food would be sent, no one came to visit. Not even Frieza, who got her in this situation in the first place.

She pushed away the tray with the food that was sent to her. She wanted to leave. She knew she was never going to escape. Nor was she going to raise this baby in a safe spot. She was lonely.

God the loneliness was unbearable.

She longed and craved for the attention. She felt like she was trapped. It was a small place too. She was locked in a room with no space. She wanted to scream.

Perhaps was this Frieza's attempt at controlling her... Or even isolating her to... Try and get her to be more obedient. She didn't like this at all. She won't give in to Frieza's demands at all.

She thought she can play the long game and stop eating. That went well as you expected. Frieza's temper is as strong as his will. He wanted healthy offspring. And if you don't comply... She found out later what he would do.

So that stint of hunger strikes stopped the moment he showed her what happens if you want to starve a future tyrant of the universe...

Then that brought her to her next point...

If she's carrying the child, the future, the legacy of the Frieza Race inside her incubation chamber. Then Frieza would try and corrupt it.

No. There's no fucking way in HFIL she would let the incarnation of Dabura corrupt the one good thing she was about to have since arriving here. She would never let Frieza hurt their child, And she knew damn well he would try.

And... Well, if he tried to fight for it. She can always play the Mother Card.

Which, will require some effort.

Some of which she did not have the patience to uphold nor put the time into.

Talking to Frieza was like arguing with a stubborn toddler who doesn't want to eat their vegetables.

It's best to let them wear themselves out.

But Frieza never wears out.

Padding down the halls to the cell where he kept his beloved was Frieza. In his hands held the tray of food that his... Well, not prisoner, his wife. Yes wife, he got so used to referring to the many beings in this sector as prisoners that he automatically called his wife a prisoner.

Frieza was not... A particularly affectionate person.

Have been surrounded and spoiled by his father for years starting from the moment he exited his little egg. Frieza was used to being handed everything so when his wife and soon to be mother of his children defied him. That made him believe that she was...

She was... Insulting his authority.

Whatever he wants, he got.

Which is partially the reason why he and Cooler never talked. Cooler was his older brother. But compared to Frieza, he was nothing. His mother clearly treated them equally, but their father. Clearly favored Cooler, but when their dearest mom was still alive pretended to show the equality that she showed to their sons.

Cooler knew.

Cooler knew that Frieza was daddy's boy and that Cooler was Mommy's Boy. Even after their mothers death, Frieza was treated with more charity then Cooler.

Frieza knew he and Cooler never got along.

But he knew Cooler will have one thing he can't.

A family.

Albeit one that didn't want to be here against their will.

BUT still existed anyhow.

Whatever, in due time, he would get her.

Because whatever Frieza wants.

Frieza gets.

<Last Chapter >Next Chapter

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years ago

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In your latest post, you said that Dumbledore MEANT to put Harry in a abusive household. That, or when he found out he did nothing to stop it. Why is that?

You’re going to get a lot of people angry with me. Well, I suppose they’re already angry. Somewhere out there, on the wider internet.

Right, anyway, the evidence of Harry’s abuse is so overwhelming that it seems improbable to me that Dumbledore wasn’t aware of what was happening. More, every interaction he has with not only Harry, but characters in similar circumstances, lends me to believe that in the event that Dumbledore does know he’d take no action.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone: Scene 1

We start out the entire Harry Potter series with Minerva and Dumbledore waiting in the early dawn for Hagrid’s arrival and to place Harry with the Dursleys. Minerva immediately announces her discomfort with this,

She specifically says the following:

"You don't mean — you can't mean the people who live here? Dumbledore, you can't. You couldn't find two people who are less like us."

Lily Evans’ relatives are infamous enough such that Minerva McGonagall, who is presumably not as close as her like aged peers (i.e. Sirius, Remus, and Peter) knows about them.

Granted, some of this is anti-muggle sentiment. Minerva isn’t sure that suburban muggles raising a magical child like Harry Potter is a good idea. Nevertheless, she has deep misgivings, and relays them to Dumbledore.

We know from further evidence that Dumbledore is perfectly aware of what Petunia and Vernon are like as well. He gives Harry to the Dursleys anyway.

Dumbledore, for his own reasons, chooses not to listen.

Dumbledore’s Letter to Petunia

Dumbledore writes a letter to Petunia, knowing it is highly necessary, as he gives Harry to the family. The letter is... vaguely threatening but in a very polite Dumbledore way. It pretty much implies “Take Harry, or else, also be nice to your dead sister.”

The point is, Dumbledore is aware that this letter is highly necessary. And then... other things happen.

Dumbledore Sends Hagrid

Dumbledore sends Hagrid to pick Harry up.

Ordinarily, in such circumstances, Minerva is sent to introduce muggleborn children to the Wizarding World. “Perhaps she was busy,” you say, too busy for Harry Potter? Wizard Jesus and the child of perhaps her favorite students who she openly favors throughout the series?

“Perhaps Dumbledore was being nice to Hagrid, and he had an errand to do anyway,” well, it’s all well and good to be nice to Hagrid, but is he really the best guy to introduce anybody to the Wizarding World?

This is Hagrid, the likelihood of him having taken Harry to an exotic pet shop where Harry then gets eaten by the Chupacabra is 95%. The 5% where it didn’t happen is because Hagrid went to the pet shop alone and some, distant, rational part of his brain told him that Harry would want the pretty owl vs. the one-eyed blood sucking rat demon in the cage next to her.

You don’t send Hagrid if you want a child returned to you with all its limbs intact.

So why do you send Hagrid?

When you want someone who’s so painfully oblivious, loyal, and stupid that they could stare a hellscape in the face and wouldn’t even notice.

Hagrid gets a firsthand view of Harry’s living conditions. He learns that Harry’s relatives have been actively blocking Harry’s letters, that they have run across the country to avoid them. He sees the state of Harry’s clothing in comparison to Dudley, how thin Harry is in comparison to Dudley, and the way the family interacts with each other.

Harry’s child abuse is staring Hagrid right in the face.

Minerva would demand that Harry be placed somewhere else, they can find some other means of protecting him.

What does Hagrid do?

He gives Dudley a pig’s tail illegally and proceeds to tell Harry that Dumbledore is the greatest man who ever lived.

Other Evidence Comes to Light

Other characters start getting pretty big warning signs that all’s not right at the Potters.

Ron and Hermione know the situation is “bad” and that Harry’s relatives “hate magic”. They’re also kids and don’t really understand what this means, the idea of being abused and hated by your guardians is unthinkable to them and Harry doesn’t come out and just say it.

That said, they’ve seen enough that they drop hints to those around them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are told about the bars on Harry’s window. Ron was so concerned about Harry in the summer after first year that he steals his father’s car with Fred and George to go pick him up. That is not normal behavior, that is deep concern for your friend.

Despite all of this... nothing happens.

Hermione spends far more time at the Weasleys then Harry ever does. Every summer, he returns to Privet Drive, and it’s likely if Arthur and Molly did have concerns Dumbledore told them off.

Arabella Figg

Arabella has been keeping an eye on Harry for years. She’s noted some very disturbing trends and been witness to years of the Dursleys interacting with Harry Potter.

She passes this information on to Dumbledore.

He knows how bad it is.

Harry Potter

Harry tells Dumbledore he does not wish to remain at the Dursleys, he notes that they don’t like him and he doesn’t like them. Now, he tries to downplay it, but this is a child saying some pretty disturbing things. You don’t brush this off.

Dumbledore does.

Dumbledore Visits the Dursleys

In book 6, Dumbledore visits the Dursleys and sees, in person, how bad it is. However, he shows no surprise, only vague disappointment in Petunia. Tsk, tsk, Petunia, I thought you were better than this.

He offers a few threats and then he and Harry go on their merry way.

Severus Snape

Snape is Dumbledore’s spy who reads Harry’s mind for half a year. Granted, Snape is a bastard who loathes Harry Potter, but he sees evidence of the Dursleys abuse of Harry.

We know, from what he relays to Dumbledore later, that he had at least some concern for Harry and was very disturbed by Dumbledore’s plan to murder him in cold blood due to the horcrux.

I think it’s very likely Severus Snape knew and told Dumbledore that Harry was being abused. I’m sure Albus’ response was, “Bitch, I know, would you like a lemon drop?”

Point being, there is no conceivable way that Albus Dumbledore, even if he was the world’s dumbest man, didn’t know exactly how bad it was. He let’s it happen anyway.

But What About the Blood Wards?

Dumbledore eventually tells Harry that the reason he can’t run away from Privet Drive is because of the blood wards created by his mother. They can only be applied if he lives with blood relatives and protect the Dursley house as long as Harry considers it home.

Now, this is a bit suspect given that Harry really considers Hogwarts his home, Privet Drive is just that hell hole he has to go back to every summer. Even the Burrow is more his home than Privet Drive so... That doesn’t sound right.

More, though, there are other means of protection.

There’s the Fidelius which Dumbledore casts on Sirius’ house in book 5. Given that, Harry really could have lived with Sirius (well, Sirius is not in a good place to have a kid around and that would be a disaster and a half). Point being, Harry could be raised elsewhere and there are wards that could protect him.

More, Voldemort and the Death Eaters are out of commission for thirteen years. Indeed, we see Dumbledore up Harry’s security detail by secretly assigning the Order to tail him after fourth year.

So, for a very long time, it’s not about Harry’s protection and when it does become that we see Dumbledore make significant changes.

So, what could it be?

Well, let’s look at Dumbledore’s other actions. Dumbledore prevents Harry from becoming prefect because “he thought it would go to his head”. Which, Harry should absolutely not be made prefect at all, and Ron’s a laughable candidate too but...

To me that’s very telling.

I hate to say this, but this is Dumbledore, but I think he has a very similar reasoning behind Harry going to the Dursleys.

He doesn’t want Harry to be corrupted by the Boy Who Lived persona. He wants him in a certain state of mind when he enters into the wizarding world and... Frankly, he wants him vulnerable. Dumbledore, in time, will need to either murder this boy or have him kill himself. If Harry has a halfway decent guardian, that task becomes a hell of a lot harder.

Harry has to love the wizarding world so much, trust Dumbledore so much, that these things are worth dying for.

You Mentioned Something About Dumbledore’s Other Actions?

Dumbledore has no sympathy for victims of child abuse.

Tom Riddle, an impoverished orphan loathed by those in his orphanage, he thinks is the very devil and sends him back into the Blitz with a smile and a wave. Enjoy the bombs, Tom, hope you die.

Severus Snape, the half blood child of an abusive muggle father and absentee mother, who is nearly murdered by Sirius Black via Remus Lupin, is told to shut the fuck up and sit down before he ruins the lives of his betters.

Dumbledore has a very bad track record with this and, well, Harry Potter is not an exception.

To be fair, I think the wizarding world has not concept of CPS or even child abuse. There’s no hint of a foster system, you go to the closest relative of the godparents. So, I think to them, you’re stuck with whoever you’re stuck with and if your uncle rapes you then it sucks to be you.

#ask #theviolettulip #harry potter #albus dumbledore

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brown-little-robin · 2 years ago

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Jason Todd Playlist

This is for Lu. Ily and I love your music ramblings so here’s some of mine. My Jason Todd playlist, in order, the main sections explained:

1) Behind the Wall to Fast Car: Jason Todd’s early childhood. Gotham police corruption (Behind the Wall), Jason’s endurance in a dissonant world (middle three songs: first one about being born to a world that will hit you and keep hitting, and the second two featuring some fairly harsh sounds, at least to my ears), and then Fast Car:

You got a fast car Is it fast enough so we can fly away? We gotta make a decision Leave tonight or live and die this way...

Fast car?? get it?? like the Batmobile? But also, starting from zero, got nothing to lose... finally see what it means to be living. Jason’s reckoning with his own awful life here. And the section about taking care of her father the alcoholic?? Jason with his mother. It’s perfect.

2) Jason becoming Robin. Charge of the Batmobile, of course. Then I’m ready. Jason is impatient!! Then Little Birdie, which just kills��me (in a good way) applied to Robin. Little birdie, little birdie, why do you fly so high? It’s because I am a true birdie / and I do not fear to die. And finally she’s got her ticket / I think she’s gonna use it / think she’s gonna fly away... no one should try to stop her / persuade her with their power... Jason is set on this road and nothing can stop him. He’s going to fly.

3) Troubles with Robin. Jason argues with Batman, as do all of the Robins. Why do the babies starve? There’s enough food to feed the world! Well, in this one he’s arguing with Bruce Wayne, I guess. He’s passionate about wealth distribution. Then Batman Is Mad At Me Again (remix) my beloved, no notes. Shout by Tears For Fears! Jason speaks up when he wants to. Irrepressible. But also? this song is about speaking out when things Aren’t Right. you shouldn’t have to jump for joy. Then the Bond theme because Jason is a nerd. Then the Finale from Trio for horn, violin and piano, foreshadowing. Then Jason finally asking for love, doing what he does best: making a demand.

You can wait 'til morning comes You can wait for the new day You can wait and lose this heart You can wait and soon be sorry

Now love's the only thing that's free We must take it where it's found Pretty soon it may be costly

Love costs him his life in the next section.

4) A Death In the Family, the actual soundtrack to Jason’s death. Then the resurrection, the soundtrack to Wolverine getting his metal bones. Agonizing. But it’s fun music nonetheless.

5) The white-hot heat of Lazarus rage. Screaming, near-nonsensical songs. Very punk.

(note the bird imagery in Novocaine, too!)

6) Red Hood’s debut. Down the River, full of righteous rage; When The Coyote Comes, a song celebrating a predator and his devilish, fear-inspiring approach. These are a little calmer than the Lazarus songs, but still he is dead-set on his terrible path.

7) Jason being called back to the family. A window opens up / and someone calls your name / but I can tell you don’t know how to play this game... Actually, here:

So now you’re on your own Won't you come back home To see you're not that kind And find the strength To find the strength To find another way

And then a song for Jason’s response to that: Broken, mostly wailing, wordless guitar, but with a heartbreaking little set of lyrics at the end:

Broken We are broken

In my mind's eye One little boy anger one little man Funny how time flies

Then Achilles Come Down, which I have in the clean version because I don’t like listening to swearing. I imagine this one specifically as Tim’s near-suicidal plea for Jason to come back: if you go I’m going / so jump and I’m jumping.

8) Jason’s slow path to building relationships again. First a rejection in Howl: I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground. Titans Tower near-killing of Tim, much? Then Freedom—he’s realizing he just wants to be allowed to have his own perspective. Then he’s becoming softer, but still fighting for himself in My life:

I don't need you to worry for me 'cause I'm alright I don't want you to tell me it's time to come home I don't care what you say anymore this is my life Go ahead with your own life, leave me alone

Then, for the first time, acceptance. A house is a home even when there's ghosts / Even when you gotta run from the ones who love you most. Jason realizing that he was in the wrong.

And then, finally, one last song:

Forgive me Is all that you can't say Years gone by and still Words don't come easily Like forgive me, forgive me

But you can say baby Baby, can I hold you tonight?

Baby bird, baby bird, can I hold you. Baby bird, will you forgive me. And! We bring it back to Tracy Chapman in the end.

9) Jason outro: The Bat’s True Calling, slow and mournful, regretful, but dignified. Acceptance of his own grief. And, finally, of course, Batman Theme Reprise. Back to that breathless, whirling experience of the Batmobile, Jason’s first taste of freedom in this playlist. Jason’s passionate spirit simply cannot be repressed.

#wow this was A Lot #jason todd #if you're a mutual / close friend you can ask for the playlist if you want #but I am Not just giving the link to anyone #OH fun fact!! I found the song 'come back home' because of an amazing thad fic with a title from the lyrics.#'A window opens up / and someone calls your name'#that line haunts me partially because of the association with That Particular Story

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emospritelet · 3 years ago

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Heatstroke - chapter 24/24

Last time, Gold confronted Zelena over trying to frame Regina, and Lacey caught the whole show on tape. This is the final chapter! Happy endings FTW!

[AO3]

Lacey set down the camera on the shop counter, and raised an eyebrow at Gold.

“So,” she said. “What do you want to do?”

He inclined his head, lifting a hand and letting it fall.

“It appears you have a story to tell about Miss West,” he remarked. “I feel the choice is very much yours. Perhaps Mr Glass can be persuaded that running an exposé is in the public interest.”

Lacey hesitated.

“Yeah, I think he would,” she acknowledged. “It’s just - Mayor Mills doesn’t know, does she? About Zelena.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I think maybe we should tell her,” said Lacey. “Before it all comes out, I mean. That would be the decent thing to do, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” he agreed, and let out a heavy sigh, his head rolling back. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“What is?”

He raised his head again, sending her a stern look.

“It appears I’ve discovered a conscience,” he said. “The rumour was I didn’t have one. I blame you for this outrage.”

Lacey giggled, and leaned in to kiss him.

“Does that mean you’ll come with me to break the news?” she asked, and he offered his arm.

“To the Mayor’s office,” he said. “I’m sure Regina will be just delighted to see us.”

“This can’t be true.” Regina was staring at Lacey’s phone, having watched the recording twice. “This - this is impossible!”

“This must be a hell of a shock,” said Lacey, and Regina shook her head.

“I always thought she disliked me, but Mal told me I was being paranoid,” she said. “All this time she was plotting to ruin my life because my mother abandoned her? The nerve of the woman!”

“I guess sibling rivalry’s tough to deal with,” said Lacey. “Makes me glad I’m an only child.”

“Well, she certainly has my mother’s ambition and vindictiveness,” said Regina, with a sigh. “I don’t suppose you know anything about the father?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Gold. “Did your mother ever hint that you had a half-sister?”

Regina shook her head.

“She never spoke about her youth,” she said. “Other than to tell me she had to fight for anything she could get and I should do the same.”

She handed the phone back to Lacey and frowned at Gold.

“Exactly how long have you known about this?” she demanded, and he smiled.

“I heard what you did,” he said.

“That wasn’t what I asked,” she said coldly. “I know you, Gold. Were you holding onto this information until it was of use to you?”

“You think I’m working against you?” he asked, in a mild tone.

“I think you never do anything that doesn’t benefit you.”

“Well, perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think,” he said. “Or perhaps we assess risks and benefits differently. Either way, you have Miss French to thank for the investigation of her past and this recording. I merely - encouraged a confession.”

“Quite the sleuthing team,” said Regina, in a dry tone. “Can we expect a new office in town? French Gold, Private Investigators?”

“I don’t mind investigating his privates,” said Lacey, and Gold shot her a very level look as Regina curled her lip.

“Thanks, I’m going to spend the rest of the evening trying and failing to get that image out of my head.”

“You’re welcome,” said Lacey cheerfully.

“The question for you,” said Gold, “is how are you going to handle this? Miss French has quite a scoop on her hands, but she wanted to bring it to you first before raising it with Mr Glass.”

Regina shot Lacey a grateful look before sitting back in her chair with a sigh.

“There’s supposed to be a debate,” she said. “The two of us up on stage. You think it’s her intention to reveal the whole sordid story in front of the whole town?”

“I don’t believe she wants the rest of the town to know,” said Gold. “If they did, then her whole campaign reeks of sour grapes. She’ll want to play on the image she’s created while she’s been here. However inaccurate it is.”

Regina growled under her breath.

“I can’t believe I’m having to go through this charade!” she snapped. “I’m supposed to stand there and - and debate her when she’s trying to frame me for corruption and destroy my life!”

“We don’t have any actual evidence that she’s tried to frame you,” said Lacey, and Regina nodded impatiently.

“I know, I know. Nothing court worthy on that tape, however much she hinted at it,” she said. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to hand it over to the Sheriff, get him to look into it.”

“If you agree to an exclusive interview with me after the debate, sure,” said Lacey quickly, and almost blushed as Gold shot her an approving look. Regina drummed her fingers on the desk.

“She’s far too good for you, Gold,” she said abruptly. “I hope you know that.”

He smirked at that, winking at Lacey.

“Oh, I’m well aware.”

Gold was finding it hard to stop grinning like an idiot now that he and Lacey were dating, and even found himself unexpectedly granting rent extensions, much to the surprise of nervous tenants. He made dinner for her again later in the week, and she stayed the night, Darcy curled at their feet as they drifted into sleep. It was pleasant being nuzzled awake by a purring cat and finding Lacey in his arms. It was a feeling he could get used to.

They had eventually managed to finish the interview, most of which was carried out in bed, and he had found himself telling her things he had previously had no intention of revealing. He blamed that on Lacey; it was difficult to maintain his usual cool distance when she was wearing his discarded shirt and looking at him as though he was a particularly delicious snack. She kept her word about giving him the final say on the article, however, and upon reading her draft, he noted that she had kept some of the more personal details to herself. He only felt the need to redact a couple of minor points about his early life, but was happy to let the remainder stand as it was. If the rest of Storybrooke was surprised at the intimacy of the piece and his sudden desire to be open about his life - well, they could all go and fuck themselves, as far as he was concerned.

The only opinions he cared about were those of his family, and it wasn’t too long before Neal called. Gold sighed as he looked at the number flashing on his phone. They’re gonna tease me relentlessly about this. Emma especially.

Shaking his head and smirking to himself, he picked up.

“Dad, hi,” said Neal. “Thought you might have called to let us know how your big social occasion went. You’re not avoiding the issue, right?”

“Of course not,” said Gold. “Been a busy week, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh. Emma thought you’d say that.” Neal sounded amused. “She’s been dying to find out about the dance, so I said I’d call for an update.”

“Tell her she needs a better hobby than worrying about my social life,” said Gold dryly. “How’s Henry? I was wondering what to get for his birthday.”

“Nice attempt at deflection, but I’m not done with you,” said Neal. “Come on, how did it go?”

“Uh - it was fine,” said Gold.

“Did you ask Lacey to dance, like I said?”

“Yes.” Gold hesitated. “We’re - uh - sort of dating now.”

Neal whooped, making him grin.

“Way to go! See, I knew you could do it!”

“Yes, well.” Gold scratched the back of his neck, feeling awkward. “It’s early days, I suppose. Very early days, but it’s going well.”

“I am so happy for you, really. Wait until I tell Emma.”

“She’s gonna tease me, isn’t she?” said Gold dryly.

“No more than usual.”

“A lot, then.”

“Hey, her teasing comes from a place of love.”

“Hmm.” Gold was amused. “Well, you can tell her I love her too.”

“And you can tell Lacey we can’t wait to meet her,” said Neal, and Gold’s grin widened.

“I believe the feeling’s mutual,” he said.

“Good. How about in two weeks’ time?”

Gold smirked to himself.

“Excellent timing,” he said. “It’s the Mayoral debate and election.”

“I’m almost certain we can find something better to do than listen to some crusty old politicians.”

“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,” said Gold. “It could be an interesting night.”

The evening of the debate arrived more quickly than Lacey thought possible, and she was nervous about more than just reporting the evening’s events. Gold’s son and daughter-in-law were due any minute, and there was a tiny part of her that kept whispering that they wouldn’t approve, that they would wonder why the hell Gold, with his money and power and class, was dating the likes of her. Stressing over her coverage of the election was a welcome distraction from the unwelcome internal monologue, and she concentrated on getting her things together for the debate, checking the recording equipment on Gold’s kitchen table and fretting about the sound quality.

“You’ve already checked it three times,” he said. “It’s fine.”

“I’m supposed to be writing the front page article!” she snapped. “What happens if I fuck up and don’t get anything recorded? I’m gonna look like a total idiot and Sidney won’t trust me with anything more complex than the hot dog eating contest!”

“I can record everything on my phone, if you’re worried,” he said. “Besides, don’t you do shorthand?”

“Yeah, but—”

“You’ll be fine,” he said gently, and kissed her head. “I promise.”

The doorbell rang, and Lacey started, heart thumping.

“Relax, that’ll be Neal and Emma,” said Gold, heading for the door. Lacey frowned at his back.

“Relax, my arse,” she muttered, shoving the recording equipment into its bag.

There were voices from the hall, and a sudden burst of laughter, and she closed her eyes, willing herself to calm the hell down. Footsteps from the doorway made her look up, and she was greeted by a warm smile and an outstretched hand. Gold’s son had his eyes, and curling dark hair above a ready grin.

“I’m Neal,” he said. “Really pleased to meet you.”

“Lacey,” she said, shaking his hand. “Uh - likewise.”

She was reminded vividly of the fact that she had flashed him on their first encounter, and felt a blush start to rise in her cheeks. If Neal was thinking of it too, he was better at hiding it than she was. His wife was a pretty blonde, with a kind look in her eyes and a plump baby in her arms, who was glancing around curiously at everything.

“This is Emma,” added Neal, “and that’s Henry.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” said Emma, shooting Gold a teasing look.

“Well, I won’t ask if it was all good, because I’m willing to bet it wasn’t,” said Lacey, and they chuckled.

“Maybe not at first,” admitted Emma. “Don’t hold it against the old bastard, though.”

“Oh, believe me, the feeling was mutual,” said Lacey.

“I’m standing right here,” said Gold evenly.

Lacey caught Emma’s eye and returned her grin. She felt herself relax a little, and leaned over to kiss Gold’s cheek.

“We got there in the end,” she said. “Uh - how hungry are you guys? I didn’t even think about dinner.”

She shot Gold a look, hoping that he would suggest something, and he nodded.

“We’ll head to Granny’s after the debate,” said Gold. “I have no doubt that Lacey will be demonstrating her excellent skill as a journalist, and I’d hate for you to miss it.”

“No pressure then,” said Lacey, and he smiled.

“You’re writing the article for the Mirror front page,” he said. “You have an exclusive with the Mayor herself after the debate. Sidney Glass clearly believes you to be as capable as I do.”

“Yeah, because I got that interview with you,” she said. “I didn’t tell him we were naked when I got most of that info.”

Neal closed his eyes with a pained expression.

“Shows ingenuity if you ask me,” said Emma abruptly. “I can usually get a ton of stuff out of Neal when we’re naked. Must run in the family.”

It was Gold’s turn to look pained. Neal put his hands over his face with a heavy sigh, and Lacey and Emma chuckled. Lacey decided that she liked both Emma and Neal very much. She zipped her bag and nodded to Gold.

“Okay,” she said. “Wish me luck.”

The town hall was filled with residents, chatting amongst themselves and casting curious glances at the empty stage. Ruby was seated next to Leroy on the third row back, and she winked at Lacey as she and Gold took their own seats. Ruby had been delighted to hear that the two of them had started seeing one another, and had only made a salacious comment to Gold on one occasion. Maybe two.

“Big turnout,” said Neal, glancing around. “I had no idea the people in this town were so into politics.”

“Usually they don’t bother,” said Gold. “The Mayor getting some competition appears to have piqued their interest.”

As though his voice had summoned her, Regina walked onto the stage, chin held high, looking calm and competent in a sharp black suit. Zelena followed, in a green dress with a soft silk scarf around her neck and gold hoops in her ears. A green folder was tucked under her arm, her hair tied up, and Lacey thought she was going for the image of a respectable school teacher. A gleam in her eye spoiled the look.

Dr Hopper was moderating the debate, and Lacey quickly checked her recording equipment and opened her laptop, rattling off a few sentences about the tense atmosphere of the hall and the opening statements from each of the candidates. Zelena gave a speech about decency and traditional values, at which Regina seemed to be stopping herself from rolling her eyes with some difficulty. Regina spoke of her record on town planning, law and order—she shot Zelena a look at that point—and prosperity.

“Thank you, ladies,” said Dr Hopper, when she was done. “Now, perhaps we’ll go to some questions from the press before we deal with those the townsfolk have submitted.”

“I have a question for Miss West,” said Lacey, in a loud, clear voice, shoving her laptop at Gold as she got to her feet.

Zelena’s mouth twisted, her smile more of a grimace.

“Of course,” she said lightly. “It’s - uh - I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

She waved a languid hand, and Lacey felt her mouth flatten.

“Lacey French, Storybrooke Mirror,” she said evenly, and Zelena let out a tinkling laugh.

“Of course, silly me,” she trilled. “How could I forget Storybrooke’s eager young reporter? Lending the local newspaper such an air of class in that - lovely - outfit.”

There was a muttering amongst the townsfolk, and Lacey distinctly heard Ruby say ‘What a bitch!’, but she smiled sweetly as though she hadn’t understood the insult.

“Yeah, I have a question about your motivation for running for Mayor,” she said. “You said yourself you’ve never been involved in politics, so what inspired you to make this move now?”

Zelena smiled widely.

“Well, as I said, I thought about where I could do the most good,” she said. “Storybrooke is a wonderful town, with many excellent qualities, but talking to its residents has made me realise that there’s a feeling that it may be lacking direction. I sense a need for a return to the basics of community. Neighbourliness. Family values. The traditions of small-town America that we all grew up with.”

“But you grew up in England,” said Lacey. “Wasn’t your father a diplomat? How do you know this view of America is either accurate or desirable?”

Zelena’s nostrils flared as she continued to smile brightly.

“Well,” she said. “Who’s been doing her homework?”

“Yeah, it’s just that people hear politicians mention tradition and family values, and all too often it’s a smoke-screen to hide racism and homophobia,” went on Lacey. “How would you address those concerns?”

Zelena spread her hands.

“I’d say look at my record,” she said. “Since I moved here I’ve made it clear that I’m happy to work with people of all backgrounds. It’s important that no one feels left out, and my initial conversations have led me to believe that there are concerns, and that some residents feel that their interests are not - fully appreciated - by the Mayor.”

“What kind of interests?” asked Lacey quickly, before Zelena could turn away, and her mouth twisted again as she tried to keep smiling.

“As I said, some feel that traditional family values are being lost in the push for modernity,” she said. “I’d like to reassure them that I stand for everything that Storybrooke represents. Decency. Morality.”

“Does that mean you think the Mayor is immoral?” asked Lacey, and Zelena pulled a face.

“I think there have been some questionable decisions at city hall under her watch, yes,” she said. “Does anyone really think that a seedy bar called Queens of Darkness is fitting for this town?”

“It’s a jazz club,” said Regina. “And there’ll be dance lessons each week. A perfectly respectable establishment, run by three accomplished businesswomen.”

Zelena let out that insincere laugh again, and Lacey sat down, retrieving her laptop from Gold and opening it up as Zelena addressed the room.

“Well, it’s not only the company the Mayor keeps,” she said. “We’ve all heard the rumours. Missing money, accounts not holding quite as much as people thought…”

“That’s an outrageous lie,” said Regina coldly. “Where’s your evidence, Miss West?”

Zelena smirked, as though she had been waiting for that very question. She held up the green folder, showing it to the room.

“I have the evidence right here,” she announced. “A brave employee of city hall managed to smuggle this out to me. Evidence that the Mayor has been embezzling town funds!”

There was a shocked intake of breath around the room. Lacey typed furiously.

“How dare you!” snapped Regina. “That’s a lie and you know it!”

“I believe this is my allotted time to speak!” Zelena snapped back. “I think the people of Storybrooke deserve to know exactly who you really are, don’t you? They should understand the choice before them!”

The doors at the end of the hall opened, and there was the sound of heavy boots on the floor. Zelena looked surprised, and then somewhat nervous, and a low-level muttering started up in the audience. Lacey glanced over her shoulder, watching as Sheriff Graham Humbert walked towards the stage with his deputy Dorothy Gale by his side. Regina appeared to be drumming her fingers on the lectern, and Lacey couldn’t work out whether it was anxiety or impatience.

“Miss West,” said Graham. “We’d like you to come with us, please.”

“Why?” demanded Zelena. “I’m a little busy winning this election, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“It’s a matter of obstruction of justice,” said Graham. “If you could come to the station, please.”

Zelena opened and closed her mouth, a sudden flicker of fear in her eyes.

“What if I say no?”

“I’d prefer not to have to handcuff you,” said Graham.

“But we will if we have to,” added Dorothy, folding her arms.

“This is a conspiracy!” blurted Zelena, waving a finger at Regina. “Did the Mayor put you up to this? This is exactly the kind of corruption I’m talking about! The Sheriff being used as the Mayor’s enforcer!”

“Miss West…”

“Mayor Mills will do whatever it takes to silence me!” she went on. “She’s scared I’ve exposed her for what she is!”

“Miss West, I didn’t want to have to arrest you, but…”

“One hint of competition and she calls in her - her goon squad to crush it!”

“Oh, for God’s sake, I know you’re my sister!” said Regina loudly.

Silence fell, and Lacey hurriedly typed a few sentences, describing the shocked atmosphere of the town hall. Zelena was staring at Regina, eyes wide and nostrils flaring.

“I wasn’t going to mention it,” said Regina, curling her lip. “I wanted to give you a chance to be a decent person and deal with this in an honourable way. But since you’re determined to try to ruin my life for no good reason, then yes. I’m well aware we share the same mother, and frankly she’d be disappointed at this pathetic bid for attention.”

“How dare you—”

“I believe it’s my turn to speak,” interrupted Regina. “We’ve listened to enough of your rambling this evening. Since you’d been dropping hints about corruption in my office, I had Sheriff Humbert investigate. He told me earlier this evening that someone had been planting evidence to try to frame me. No doubt that’s what he wants to speak to you about.”

“This is—”

“The residents of Storybrooke know how seriously I take my duties as Mayor,” Regina went on, addressing the room as a whole now. “They know that I value their support and their trust. Of course I’d want any threat to that to be investigated. I’m just - I’m beyond disappointed that the threat comes from my half-sister.”

Her voice echoed around the silent room. Lacey was watching the townsfolk avidly, their eyes fixed on Regina as she spoke.

“I had no idea that my mother had had a daughter before me, no idea that I had another family member out there in the world,” she went on. “Her coming to Storybrooke should have been a time of joy and reunion. But instead of her reaching out to me, she tries to undermine me, to take away the most important job I have in this town.”

She looked down, shaking her head, and Gold leaned in close.

“I wonder how much of this is for the benefit of the voters and how much is genuine,” he murmured.

“Maybe fifty-fifty,” Lacey whispered back, and he nodded in agreement.

Regina raised her head, taking a deep breath, as though steeling herself for something unpleasant. Graham and Dorothy had edged towards the stage, Dorothy removing the cuffs from her belt.

“All I can do now,” said Regina, “is trust that justice will take its course.”

“You know nothing about justice!” shouted Zelena, as the Sheriff started reading her her rights. “You’ll pay for this! All of you!”

She was still yelling when Dorothy handcuffed her and marched her from the room. The sound of the doors closing was very loud in the silence that remained.

“Well,” said Regina, placing her hands on the lectern and looking around the room. “I think we can all agree that this was one of the more - eventful - political debates this town has seen.”

There was a ripple of nervous laughter, and she smiled.

“I truly hope that Miss West gets the help she so desperately needs,” she went on. “And when she has, I want her to know that she’s welcome to visit with Mallory and I. After all, we may not be able to choose our family, but that makes it all the more important to nurture the bonds we share with those around us.”

There were noises of agreement from the audience, and Gold leaned in close again.

“Ever the politician,” he murmured, and Lacey nodded.

“Storybrooke is like an extended family to me,” went on Regina, “and all families have their moments of conflict and frustration, but underneath that there is respect for one another, and a common set of values. I believe I have lived by those values for every year that I’ve served as your Mayor. I will always reach out to those in need and I will always act in the best interests of this town. Under my leadership, Storybrooke will continue to prosper. I guarantee it.”

There was applause, and a couple of cheers, and Regina nodded, looking extremely self-satisfied. She started taking questions, and Gold kissed Lacey’s cheek and whispered that he would see her in the diner when she was done. She watched him leave with his family, Emma balancing the baby on her hip and Neal pushing the stroller after them. Lacey turned back to listen to Regina field a question about the state of the town’s roads, bent her head to her laptop, and began typing up her article on the Mayoral debate.

She emailed the article over to Sidney before leaving for the diner, and walked back there with Ruby, who was chattering about the drama that had unfolded. Regina had been in her element when answering the remaining questions, and Lacey had felt a surge of satisfaction over her part in exposing a crime. Perhaps small town life offered the chance for rewarding work after all. She could see Gold and his family through the window, and his face lit up as she entered, making her stomach flip. Damn the man. I’m falling in love with him.

“Excellent job this evening,” he said, getting up to pull her chair out and kissing her cheek. “I got you a rum and coke, I hope that’s okay.”

“Perfect,” she said fervently, and took a slurp, relishing the taste on her tongue.

“How’d the Mayor look at the end of all that?” asked Emma, and Lacey pulled a face.

“The whole place gave her a round of applause, and she was looking about as satisfied as she could, I guess,” she said. “I still feel kind of sorry for her. Not every day you find out you have a half sister. Especially one that’s out to get you.”

“Well, it could have been a lot worse,” said Gold. “I very much doubt Miss West will present much of a challenge from a jail cell.”

Lacey nodded, taking another sip of her drink.

“Does this mean you and Regina are friends now?” she asked, and Gold smirked.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. “What’s that term the kids use these days?”

“Frenemies?”

“That’s the one.”

“Kind of like we were,” she observed, and he laughed.

“Regina would fillet me with a letter opener if I even contemplated looking at her the way I look at you.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” she said. “I just meant - well, we kind of had that thing where we poked at each other to get a reaction, right?”

Gold looked as though he was trying very hard not to laugh, and she swatted his arm.

“Stop thinking about dirty stuff! You know what I mean!”

“I do,” he acknowledged. “And I, for one, am very glad that we - er - got the reaction we wanted.”

“You’re still thinking about dirty stuff, aren’t you?” said Emma shrewdly, and Gold shrugged.

“Maybe a little.”

They ate ribs, sticky with Granny’s special sauce, licking it from their fingers and washing it down with beer and wine and rum. By the time they got out into the cool night air, Lacey felt wonderfully tipsy, and regretted putting on her high heels earlier in the evening. At least there was no one else around to see if she fell on her arse, she supposed. Neal and Emma were walking ahead, pushing the stroller and talking quietly, and Lacey let out a sigh, slipping her arm through Gold’s for support, and resting her head on his shoulder.

“I ate too much,” she said, and Gold chuckled.

“We all ate too much.”

“You didn’t throw half of it over your lap, though.”

“No, I thought I’d leave that to you.”

“Stupid gravity,” muttered Lacey, and he laughed, squeezing her arm with his.

“Tired?” he asked.

“Yeah. Long day.”

“Maybe you should have an early night.”

She glanced up at him, and he was grinning at her, his eyes twinkling.

“How’s that gonna work?” she asked flatly. “Your family’s staying over. No way I’m letting you give me screaming orgasms while they’re in the room next door.”

“In that case I could sneak over to yours,” he suggested. “You could scream to your heart’s content.”

Lacey giggled, barging him affectionately with her shoulder.

“I think I love you, Mr Gold,” she said, and Gold stopped dead, turning to face her with a stunned look on his face.

“Really?”

Lacey turned to face him, taking his hand.

“Really,” she said. “I mean I’m kind of drunk, but that’s not why I’m saying it. I think I’ve sort of been in love with you for a while now. Is that okay?”

He was staring at her, wide-eyed, and a softness seemed to spill over his features, making his eyes gleam as he smiled.

“Well,” he said. “I think I love you, too, Miss French. Is that okay?”

“More than okay.”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then raised his chin.

“D’you want to move in?” he asked.

“Can I bring Darcy?”

“Of course.”

“Then you got a deal.”

He was grinning, and she found herself grinning back, her heart swelling with love for him.

“Let’s wait until after Neal and Emma go before I move in, though,” she said. “I think you said something about screaming orgasms?”

Gold’s grin turned wicked, and he bent his head to kiss her.

“I’ll be over later.”

She let his lips pull at hers, leaning in to feel the warmth of his body as his arms went around her, and let out a sigh of contentment. Yes. Life in a small town could be amazing.

#fic: heatstroke #golden lace fic #rumbelle fic #golden lace #rumbelle #my fic

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pthalomars · 4 years ago

Text

Season 4 Episode 7 rewrite

Kai stared in disbelief at the scene in front of him. Skylor’s body writhed in pain as her father absorbed her powers into his staff. She faltered, barely catching herself before stumbling back towards the red ninja. They exchanged a glance, Skylor nodding weakly at Kai before both of them turned to face Chen’s next target.

“And now, for the final element.” Chen said triumphantly. The master made his way over to Lloyd and Nya.

Nya was already robbed of her element, but had proven to be untrustworthy when under supervision of the guards. Her vengestone chains weighed her down, unable to move or protect herself. But it wasn’t her safety she was worried about.

Kneeling next to her was Lloyd. He was constrained by the same shackles, his knees digging uncomfortably into the cracked stone floor. He was the only one with his element still intact.

“Only one can remain.” Chen assured before holding his staff out. The prism began to glow and shake violently as Lloyd’s element escaped from his body. Wisps of green smoke flew off of him and were consumed by the crystal. Having tried to hold in his cries, Lloyd let out a shriek of pain as the last of his powers were ripped from his body. Nya yelled, trying to get closer to him, to protect him; but it was too late.

“Behold! Every elemental power, all in my control!” Chen roared, his goons shouting in response. His words of victory and diabolical plots echoed loudly in the cavern, only being amplified by the excitement of the soon-to-be Anacondrai warriors.

Lloyd had slumped over from exhaustion, his body frail and limp. Nya had tried her best to scoot closer to him, her chains digging into her flesh as she tried to rest her forehead on her brother’s back. She sobbed quietly, whispering to him in hopes that he could hear her.

Kai stood next to Skylor, horrified and barely able to maintain his cover. They still had a plan, they could do this. They could take down her father. He just had to keep it together for just a bit longer.

But looking at his little sister and his friend- his brother- it was nearly impossible to not leap for Chen’s throat.

Skylor looked at him, noting the growing anger and despair in his eyes. She gave a small squeeze to his arm before nodding. Their plan was now in action.

“Father, let me stand beside you.” Skylor proclaimed, moving to be next to Chen.

“Yes. Yes, join me. After today, not only will Master Chen be Ninjago’s number one noodle house, but Ninjago’s number one ruler!” The room swells with excitement as Clouse moves forward. Placing his hand on Chen’s staff, words of a dead tongue pour from his lips. Dark plumes of vapor escape his fingertips and swirl around the color changing prism. The transformation was beginning, it was now or never.

“Hey Chen! You forgot one element.” Kai pipes in. Chen, Clouse, and Skylor turn around to face him. “The element of surprise!”

Before the two men can react, the master of amber jumps up, hooking the staff on her foot before flipping backward and launching it at Kai. Quick to react, he catches the staff and pivots to Lloyd and Nya.

Chen, looking utterly dumbfounded, glared at his daughter and shrieked. “You betray me?!”

Skylor huffs, a strand of hair blowing out of her face, “It runs in the family.” She lunged forward, knocking her father off of his feet with a quick swipe before jutting into him and throwing him to the ground. He skids across the floor and rolls over, letting out a groan of pain.

“Get them!!” Chen cries, his body heaving on the stone.

As Kai made his way to his siblings, Chen’s warriors began to close in from all sides. Skylor was fighting back, but several of them grabbed hold of her and were about to knock her to the ground.

Kai shouted in anger, pointing the staff at the goons and channeling Jay’s lightning to electrocute them. They fell to the ground in a heap, with Skylor practically untouched. He then turned to face the kneeling pair. Bringing forth the same electricity, he zapped the chains around their wrists and ankles. They cracked open and clattered to the ground.

“Kai, what is going on?” Nya demands.

“That was all an act?” Lloyd asks weakly.

“Don’t worry, I had it all under control. Well, almost..” Kai replied, suddenly eyeing the fangs of the snake statue that towered above them. Clouse had snuck over to a lever on the lower jaw, forcing it down. Thick columns of acrid sludge poured from the fangs, which caused Nya and Lloyd to brace for impact. When they realized that their skin hadn't melted off of bodies, they opened their eyes. A forcefield of pure energy circled their forms.

The acid stopped flowing and Kai stood to face Clouse. Before the man could make another move, the brunette summoned Zane’s ice to freeze him on the spot. The sorcerer’s body iced over before falling to the side and cluttering on the stone floor.

In response, a surge of fighters began to swarm them once again. Skylor had still been fighting, but there were just so many of them. Catching a second wind, Lloyd, Nya, and Kai jumped into the fray.

The sounds of battle echoed overwhelmingly in the cavernous walls. As the fight continued, Lloyd noticed Kai was becoming more and more aggressive. His elemental attacks were no longer to defend, but to maim. Blood had started to shed.

“Kai, hurry! You must destroy the staff!” Lloyd cried.

“Chen’s right, this thing is awesome!” Kai admitted, the corners of his lips pulling into a devilish grin. His eyes began to take on a red glow, only growing stronger.

He whipped around and pointed the staff at the remaining warriors. Burst of fire, lightning, and energy ripped through the air and all of those who were still standing fell to the ground. Nya and Skylor looked to see what was happening, their eyes growing wide when they realized what had happened.

“Kai, it holds too much power. Destroy it!” Nya shouted. Kai looked between her and the staff, his eyes flickering between red and dark brown. “The power is corrupting him. If we don’t get that staff out of his hands-”

“No one is taking my staff!” Kai roared. He turned to face Lloyd, “You had all that power, now it's my turn!” As Kai’s voice raised in volume, Nya instinctively moved in between her brothers. Skylor moved to be behind Lloyd, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. For just a moment, Kai falters.

“Ah! What am I saying? Nothing I don’t already feel!” Red’s grip on himself was slipping rapidly. His anger and desires overtook him as the elemental powers from the staff surged through his veins.

Laying on the ground, Chen props himself up on his elbows and takes in the sight. “Yes, Kai, embrace the power!” He cheers.

Kai shakes his head, attempting to snap out of it. “I can’t, I can't control it. I don’t want to control it. I should have been the green ninja!!” He rears back, getting ready to land a blow on his poor brother.

“No Kai, don’t!” Lloyd yells, cowering behind Nya. Kai goes to strike Lloyd with the staff, but his arc is cut short by a pair of strong hands.

“Wh- what are you doing?” says Kai, his glowing eyes wide with shock.

“The staff has to be destroyed. If you won’t finish the job, then I will!” said Nya, attempting to rip the staff from her brother’s grip.

“Let go, the staff is mine!”

“The staff never belonged to you, hand it over!”

“No!”

Skylor moved quickly to get herself and Lloyd out of the way as the siblings attempted to overcome each other. They tugged and tore mercilessly at the staff, yet neither could manage to get the upper hand.

The contact Nya had with the staff had started to affect her. Once dark brown eyes slowly come to a red glow and her anger rose like a vicious tide.

“Damnit Kai, you nEVER LISTEN TO ME! GIVE ME THE STAFF!” Nya demands, suddenly pulling the cane close to her body before aggressively shoving it back against her brother. The staff collided with his ribs and knocked the wind right out of his body. The brunette fell hard against the ground, letting out a choked gasp and curling in on himself. Nya stood upright, the staff still clutched in her hands.

The power had her swimming in her mind, barely able to keep herself together as she looked at the scene around her. Chen’s warriors were incapacitated all around them. Her brother lay helpless on the ground, gasping for air. Her friends cowered in fear. Her rage had blown up into an inferno, threatening to burn the world around her.

“Nya, destroy it now!!” Lloyd’s voice pierced through the red haze. Shaking her head violently, she gripped the staff until her knuckles were white. What was she doing?

“NYA!”

She let out a guttural scream as she raised the staff up, stomping her foot on the ground and arcing it down full force. The prism in the staff shattered, but the noise felt so piercing in her ears. The power of the staff was inside of her, and its destruction left her body wracked with pain.

Her legs gave out and her throat was raw from screaming. It was all too much. Her vision went dark and her body fell limp against the floor.

From the broken crystal, streams of multicolored light swirled in the room. Green, orange, red, and blue ribbons clung to their respective masters, restoring their rightful powers. The remaining light faded into the walls, and a loud rumbling sounded from behind the serpentine statue. The others were coming. They were almost here.

#ninjago #nya smith #kai smith #lloyd garmadon #skylor chen #master chen #ninjago clouse #ns4 #ninjago tournament of elements #this is part of my au where nya was actually in the tournament B)#because she should have been #hope u guys like it!!#long post

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justanotherblonde23 · 4 years ago

Text

When Marcus Met the Doctor

Author’s Note: Hey there Internet friends! So my buddy @autumnleaves1991-blog had asked me for a follow up on my original Marcus Moreno story. She was wondering how Marcus met the future Dr. Moreno. It was in an ask, but I can’t find it to save my life. I’m posting this on my iPad because my laptop isn’t playing nicely today, so I apologize if the format seems a little odd. I’m still learning! I gave the reader a last name and a nickname so I didn’t have to use y/n but I didn’t give any descriptions about physical appearance, so I hope you’ll be able to see yourself here. Please let me know what you think, I hope you enjoy - Kat

Warnings: swearing, single parenthood

Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog @madness-roses @bisexual-space-slut @dindjarindiaries @frannyzooey @zeldasayer @cinewhore @revolution-starter @mrschiltoncat @softpedropascal @paniclana @jollyrancher87 @hdlynnslibrary @maybege @corrupt-fvcker @cyaredindjarin @scribbledghost @woakiees

Marcus was at his wit’s end. He’d been a single dad for all of three weeks after his wife decided that she wasn’t invested in being a mother or having a spouse that occasionally saved the world. What was he supposed to do with a kid that just turned 7, a two-month-old baby who started showing signs of powers, and a full-time job as one of the Heroics? He’d been up all night with the baby, Jules, because every time she woke up, she’d inadvertently started throwing things around the room...with her mind.

He had been around children with powers before, sure, but he had never encountered a child this young having powers begin to develop. Hell, his oldest, Missy, hadn’t even had her powers show up yet. He knew that each child was different, but this was way out of his league. He knew how to handle children; he loved children, especially his children. A powerful infant was not in his job description. He needed outside assistance, and he needed it yesterday.

It was a blustery Saturday, so he bundled himself and the kids up, making his way to Heroics HQ. There had to be someone there that could help. Walking into HQ was like walking into a completely different world. Uniquely powered individuals in multicolored hero outfits, scientists in lab coats, executives in suits, and a myriad of others all spent their time hustling and bustling through the gigantic building. In the middle of all this was Marcus, a dad in jeans, a grey V-neck, converse, and a leather jacket holding a bundled up super powered baby in the crook of his arm, with his hand gripping the small hand of his inquisitive little girl. He sighed, making his way to the building’s science and medical wing, trying to find the proper hallway and office number.

Finally, he found it, office 22A, the person who hopefully had the answers he needed for baby Jules. He knocked; he felt awkward just rushing in even though technically had an appointment. He hadn’t expected the door to be opened by the most beautiful woman that he’d ever laid eyes on. She smiled kindly, gesturing for him to enter. He couldn’t help but take in her appearance as he guided himself and Missy into the office. She was dressed professionally, wearing a pencil skirt, blouse, and heels topped with a lab coat, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her eyes shone with both care and enthusiasm; a soft smile graced her lips. He watched as she grabbed Missy’s hand, setting her up with toys in a corner filled with all sorts of things children loved. She was so gentle with the little girl, giving all of her attention to the child. Once Missy was situated and happily playing quietly, the woman turned her attention back to Marcus and Jules. She said something to him, but Marcus just stood there, blinking, a mixture of exhaustion and admiration rendering him speechless.

“Mr. Moreno?” a gentle voice inquired, her hand on his bicep snapping him out of his reverie.

Marcus blinked, shaking his head, willing himself to be in the present. “I’m so sorry, I’m completely worn out. Between work, the baby, and Missy, I’m just barely pulling through on my own. You can call me Marcus, by the way, Mr. Moreno just seems so formal.”

The kind smile was back as she led him to a couch at the back of the office, where they both sat down and got comfortable.

“So, Marcus, I hear that you are here to see me about your little one here. My name is Dr. Johnson, but mostly everyone around here calls me Iris. Please tell me what’s going on with the baby, and I can see what I can do for you.” She sounded so confident in her ability to assist him, not even knowing what the problem was yet.

“Iris? Is that your name?” Marcus accidentally wondered aloud.

The responding light laugh that Dr. Johnson gave him sounded like a perfect melody. “No, that’s not my name, just a nickname. One of my secondary abilities is a bit of telekinesis. When I activate that or my other abilities, my eyes turn well the color of irises, and the name just stuck.”

He nodded, absorbing the information while rocking Jules in his arms. She was dozing at the moment since this would ideally be her naptime. He studied her face, looking for what, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t even know where to begin, how to ask for something he wasn’t sure there was a solution for. It hit him then how young she was. How was someone so young supposed to help him?

“I sense some hesitation in you. If you have questions or concerns, I’m happy to address them. I want to be able to help you, but to do that, you also need to trust me.”

Marcus shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. He didn’t want to be rude or demanding, but this was his baby they were talking about here. It was his job to keep Jules safe, it was just him now, and he couldn’t stand the idea of her in any type of danger simply because he couldn’t figure out what to do about her powers.

Iris put her hand on his, causing him to look back at her again.

“Yes, I’m quite young, I just turned 28 last month, but that doesn’t make me any less qualified to help you and your baby girl. My greatest ability is my mind. I have nine doctorates, working on more as we speak, which doesn’t include my medical degrees. I am a doctor of pediatric medicine, as well as a surgeon for both children and adults. I’ve worked on most of the heroically enhanced beings that work here, you included, although you were unconscious at the time. I invent most of the tech that you and your fellow Heroics use every day. Those katana blades of yours, those are my work. As a father, I know that you’re going to be hesitant to allow anyone to help your daughter, especially someone who is young, like me. I assure you, Marcus, that my young age is made up for by my vast set of experiences. I would argue that I’m the best suited for this job out of anyone. Please, let me help you so that you can take care of your children to the best of your ability. Give me a chance here; I promise you won’t regret it.”

He had been expecting her anger at his hesitance, not her understanding. He was sure that he was about to be yelled at for doubting her. Instead, she calmly explained exactly who she was and why she was his best bet. Fuck, she was brilliant and willing to help. He needed to give her a chance and let her see this through, no matter how nervous he was.

“Iris, I apologize; I shouldn’t doubt you or your abilities. I’m pretty new at this single dad thing, and I’m just trying to take care of them the best I can. I’ve been doing mostly consultant work from home, but that’s only a temporary solution. I just-,” his voice broke, tears filling his eyes.

A tear dripped down his face, but the doctor caught it with her thumb, smoothing it away. She had tears in her own eyes, threatening to overflow. She enveloped him in as firm of a hug as she could with baby Jules still in his arms, letting him lay his head on her shoulder and permitting him to feel. All his sorrow, worries, and fears flowed out of him through his tears. Fingers carded through his hair, a hand rubbed soothing circles on his back, her words of comfort whispered in his ear. Marcus, you’re not alone. There are people who want to help. It’s okay, let it all out. He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but by the time he finished crying, he felt safe and cared for, something that he hadn’t felt in a while, not since far before his ex had left.

They spent the next half hour discussing what abilities Jules had exhibited so far, what Marcus’ concerns were, and what he needed to be a functional parent. He explained how the baby started showing signs of power less than a week after she was born, how she seemed to be able to move things with her mind, but that he wasn’t quite sure because, well, Jules was a baby and he was sure that she didn’t even realize she was doing it. He was worried because as time went on, the objects kept getting larger. Last night, somehow, she had moved the crib in front of the bedroom door when she woke up in the middle of the night for her bottle. He had ended up having to take the door off its hinges to even get into the room. Hearing his baby crying and not being able to get to her had scared him shitless. He’d ended up staying in the baby’s room all night to make sure nothing else happened.

As they talked, Jules had woken up and was beginning to fuss. Iris ended up taking the baby, giving her a bottle, and watching her abilities while still listening to Marcus. She was so good with little Jules, holding her, gently stroking her hair, whispering comforting words when she would get fussy. He saw books begin to float off the shelf in his peripheral vision, he got up to try and put them back, but Iris’ hand shot out, stopping him. She smiled up at him, raising a hand and pushing them back in place with her mind.

“I think I have something that will help.”

She stood up, still holding the baby, and went to her desk, grabbing a tiny silver cuff. She pressed a few buttons on the keyboard, bringing up various holograms all around the room. Marcus almost jumped out of his skin when she began to talk to an AI, sorting through her research until she found what she was looking for.

“This is my own design, it’s basically a bracelet that will contain Jules’ powers and abilities while she wears it. It’s waterproof, tamper resistant, and will only open with either your fingerprint or my own. As she grows, we’ll change the cuff size and lessen the suppression. When this little lady is old enough, the cuff will come off altogether and she will have full access to her abilities. The suppression will not cause her any harm or pain, I’ve made sure to try it on myself long term to be certain. This allows you to keep her safe without working yourself into exhaustion. We can meet a few times a month to assess her progress. This should help you all get into the groove of things, Marcus.”

He took the cuff, studying it, rolling it over in his hands. It felt like regular metal, nothing special. He titled it to see the inside. There were tiny sensors evenly spaced throughout and something that was blinking green. This was far beyond his paygrade as far as technology went. The fact that the woman in front of him invented this and was willing to use this to help ensure his baby’s safety was not lost on him. He was grateful that she had a solution, hopefully it would help.

“It won’t hurt her, right? I just want to make sure. Has this been studied long term? Are there any side effects?” he enquired, trying not to get too excited.

Iris shook her head as she lightly rocked Jules in her arms. “I’ve used this on myself, as well as some other children that have had their abilities show up a bit too early. I haven’t seen any drawbacks or side effects of the cuff so far, but I want to have you bring Jules in at least once every few weeks so that we can keep her closely monitored. You’ll also have my number, please feel free to contact me day or night if you have any concerns or if anything goes wrong. I’m here to help and it’s my main priority to make sure that this sweet girl can learn and grow safely, without the threat of her powers going awry. This problem is one that we can solve, Marcus.”

He nodded, her words were reassuring to be sure. Since he became a single father, he hadn’t really trusted anyone with the safety and wellbeing of his little girls besides himself. It was difficult to reach out and allow someone to help solve a problem when the one person he had trusted the most had shattered him. Iris was giving him a solution, she was asking for his trust in her and her science. He could do that for his kids, he had to.

Marcus handed her back the cuff, allowing her to delicately put it on Jules’ wrist. It didn’t even phase the baby one bit. She kept on as if nothing had changed at all. He let out the breath that he didn’t even know he had been holding. She seemed absolutely fine, content to be rocked in the good doctor’s arms. She handed her back to Marcus, allowing him to cradle his little one close.

The two adults scheduled baby Jules’ followup appointment for the next week so that they could see her progress and give Iris a chance to check the data and run some tests. They spoke for a few more minutes until Missy came up to get their attention.

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

Iris got down on Missy’s level so that she could look her in the eye. “You did so well today, Missy. Thank you so much for playing quietly while your daddy and I talked about your baby sister. I’m very proud of you.”

Missy broke out in a huge grin, throwing her arms around the doctor’s shoulders.

“Will we get to see you again? Can I come and play here more soon?”

Iris returned the hug, smiling fondly at the little girl. “Your sister has another appointment here next week and you are more than welcome to come and play in my office again. It was very nice to meet you. I think your daddy will be taking you down to the cafeteria here for some lunch, how does that sound?”

Missy nodded enthusiastically, grabbing her father’s free hand and tugging him along.

“Thank you so much, Iris, I really appreciate all the time you’ve given us today.”

“The pleasure is mine, Marcus, really. I’m here to help.”

There wasn’t much more to be said as Marcus was dragged by Missy out the door and down the hallway, chatting about what type of lunch they were going to eat. The doctor stood in the doorway, watching the little family leave, happy that she could be of assistance. She liked Marcus, he seemed to love his children a great deal and was a good man.

As they got in the elevator, Missy’s sweet voice said, “Daddy, I like that doctor lady, she’s so nice. I hope we get to see her more. She’s so pretty!”

Marcus had to agree with his daughter, he liked Iris, too. He felt a tug in his gut telling him that he should get to know her more, that she was someone truly special. He decided then and there that he would try to make that happen.

#marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno #we can be heroes #pedro pascal

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the-last-kenobi · 4 years ago

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For the bad things happen bingo, I Will Punish You For Your Friend's Failure, with Obi Wan and Rex during the Zygeria arc with Rex being punished by the slavers.

Oooooh, happy evil brain twinkles.

TW for blood, child death, and mildly graphic torture. No specifics because spoilers but do be cautious.

•••

There is an enemy, and it is within, the Jedi taught.

You will encounter foes of all forms in your years as a Jedi. There will be cruel tyrants and selfish politicians, ruthless criminals and violent terrorists. Possessive lovers, radical reformists, slavers and desperate people willing to do whatever it takes to achieve what matters to them. And then the next thing, and the next.

But these are not the enemy.

The Jedi have only two natural enemies.

The Sith have been extinguished from the galaxy, lost to ruin. What the Jedi did not destroy, the Sith themselves did, locked in the raw emotion of the Dark Side, turning on one another.

And the Jedi are left with the true enemy.

You are the enemy, the Masters warned. Your weaknesses are your real enemy.

All obstacles can be overcome as long as you master yourself.

Fear will lead you astray. Push through it.

Anger will corrupt you. Abandon it.

Envy will poison you. Purge it.

Grief will break you. Overcome it.

And if you fall, you will fall as yourself, at peace. A true Jedi perishes for the right reasons, where not even self-possession could stop the sheer numbers of the opposition.

The enemy is within.

•

Obi-Wan Kenobi took a deep, steadying breath. The enemy is within, he reminded himself. My fear is the enemy. These people cannot destroy me.

The broken wrist, clumsily bandaged and still forced to work, whispers that otherwise. The bruises along his spine groan in misery. There was a cut on his upper lip that had bled and dried in his beard and lips. Someone had driven the handle of a whip into the muscles of his left leg, and it could not bear his weight.

He opened his eyes just in time to receive a stunning blow across the face.

Despite the fancies of holodramas, a strike to the face is nothing to brush aside.

The Jedi reeled, his head exploding, his face stinging. White light erupted behind his eyes and his nose burned as if he’d dived too deep into water.

“Who is your Master?” a voice demanded.

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly, gasping for air. His entire head throbbed; he was on his knees but his back had arched back so far his head was a foot from the floor. Wincing, he dragged himself back up and stared passively into the snarling Zyggerian’s eyes. “I am.”

A roar of discontent. “Wrong!”

The hand came back, but this time it closed around his throat.

•

Qui-Gon caught him by the shoulders, one hand moving upwards to press against the side of his Padawan’s neck.

“You are stronger than your fear,” he said. “Because your fear is only part of you. Your strengths outnumber your fear, Obi-Wan.”

Behind the boy’s young eyes, though - flashes of remembered horror, children dead in the streets of Melida/Daan and the screaming sound a blaster bolt made as it grazed close, so close, to his ear - and hit another boy instead —

Obi-Wan gasped as if drowning, his mind convinced that he was not getting enough oxygen.

Fear was going to kill him.

Fear was the enemy.

“Oh, Padawan,” sighed his Master. And then the hands left his neck and his shoulder, leaving Obi-Wan bereft, plunged into ice cold waters of terror and trauma, his failures haunting him like the ghost of Cerasi.

•

Obi-Wan choked, bucking involuntarily as the meaty hand clenched around his throat, crushing his air pipe.

He couldn’t breathe.

Still. What did it matter, if this monstrous slaver killed him in a fit of rage? Obi-Wan was more than this man and his pride, his greed, his disregard for life.

Obi-Wan was a Jedi.

His body’s automatic response to being abused and killed was nothing.

He was more than his fear.

“Damn Jedi!”

The hand released him, and the red-haired General slumped to the floor, unable to stop his forehead from colliding painfully with the uneven slag flooring. More blood. He tasted it in his mouth, he felt it dripping down his forehead.

“Very well,” the same voice continued. “The punishment must suit the prisoner, in some cases. How lucky of you. So special.”

They cannot hurt me, Obi-Wan reminded himself. My body is not my soul. I am more than my fear.

And then two more slavers entered the room at a summons, dragging a struggling figure between them.

Rex.

Obi-Wan’s fear spiked so sharply he felt his chest stab with physical pain.

No, he told himself. No. Fight it. Fight it—

The Zyggerian behind him sensed his rising emotion and grabbed him roughly, one hand on the thick collar around the Jedi’s throat, and the other dug painfully into his hair.

•

Obi-Wan shuddered.

A bomb - Twela, Bruin, Conno, Toorun, and others went flying, flailing helplessly in the air.

Toorun rolled on his side and got back up.

Conno collided with a vehicle and lay still.

Bruin landed on his feet and stood up, grinning in shocked relief, and then dropped with a bullet in his head. Blood spattered stone.

Twela landed on a pile of rubble.

When Obi-Wan found her, she had been lying there for an hour while the battle wore on, a rebar shoved through her stomach.

It took her two days to die—

Cerasi, falling into his arms. Gasping. Blood everywhere. Her father screaming. Blood on Obi-Wan’s hands—

Nield, his friend, telling him he didn’t belong - kicking him out of the camp to die alone - blaming Obi-Wan, rightfully, for the death of Cerasi and the peace she had helped create—

But as quickly as they had been taken away, the warm and solid hands of Qui-Gon Jinn were there again, this time on his back. Pulling him. Tightening around him.

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly, gasping and shaking, pressed into a warm embrace while his Master rocked him gently, whispering encouragement into his hair.

It was good to be held.

•

Obi-Wan twisted, struggling in near-panic to get away from the arms restraining him.

“Stop it!” he yelled. “Stop!”

They did not stop.

The Zyggerians had been on Rex for over two hours, holding him down, methodically slicing the soles of his feet, throwing their fists into his abdomen and face and throat, slamming his head against the unforgiving ground.

The Captain was a mess; bruised and bloodied, involuntary tears making his damaged face glisten.

Rex had finally started to scream five minutes ago, and still they would not stop—

“Stop! You’ll kill him!” Obi-Wan shouted, his bound hands clenched so tightly that his palms were torn and bleeding. “Stop!”

“And now the bird sings,” the slave master crowed, laughing down at him. “So high and mighty, Jedi?”

“Leave him alone!” Obi-Wan demanded.

The slaver’s face darkened.

Two things happened at almost the same moment.

A knife was drawn from seemingly thin air and without hesitation or fanfare was plunged into Rex’s thigh; the Captain screamed again, writhing.

A button was pressed, and the collar around Obi-Wan’s neck blazed with electricity that made him convulse, blinded, agonized.

“You don’t give the orders here,” the master snarled. “Haven’t you learned? You’re not in control here!”

•

“You are in control, Padawan,” Qui-Gon murmured, rubbing his hand up and down the boy’s back, following the still too-prominent line of his spine. Up and down, up and down.

“I’m not,” Obi-Wan sobbed. “I’m a failure.”

“You haven’t failed until you’ve let yourself down and decided not to get up again,” his Master replied firmly. “You are master of yourself, Obi-Wan, and therefore master of the situation. You can rise above. Even if you need help to do it. You are not a slave to fear.”

•

“Slaves are not masters,” the Zyggerian bellowed, and Rex screamed again.

Obi-Wan shuddered and twitched on the floor; he felt filthy, ragged, used. Now useless.

“You don’t make the rules!” A kick to the abdomen that deprived him of air. Once again suffocating. Drowning.

All he could see was the bloodstained floor. All he could hear was the voice, and Rex screaming through gritted teeth.

“Every time you cross me, I’ll punish your freakish friend. And anyone else that crosses your path. I! Am! In! Control! Here!” Each of the final words was delivered with a sharp jerk on the chain that had been attached to the collar.

Obi-Wan choked and wheezed.

Pain.

Terror.

Helpless.

I can’t —

“Who is your Master?”

“You are,” Obi-Wan told Fear, eyes glazed, blood spattered across his vision. Maybe permanently. Like a brand. Like Cerasi’s lifeblood on his shaking hands.

“Who is your Master?” the slaver asked again.

Obi-Wan stared vacantly upwards.

Fear looked back at him. Outside him. Inside him. Triumphant.

“You are,” whispered the Jedi, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

He slumped to the floor.

Rex’s screams faded as the punishment abruptly ceased; the Clone lay on the stone floor, limp and in terrible pain, staring with abject fear in his eyes at the fallen Jedi.

His utter relief that the pain was over, that they had taken their hideous hands off of him, was warring with his worry.

And his growing terror.

If even General Kenobi could be controlled...

“A good start,” the slave master said thoughtfully, trodding deliberately on Obi-Wan’s damaged foot. “And I was told Jedi did not feel fear.”

•••

#star wars #star wars fic #i’m sorry?????#obi wan kenobi #captain rex #the clone wars #someone hug them #please #torture #blood #abuse #bad things happen bingo

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electronicdelusionstarlight · 4 years ago

Text

Boethia’s Bidding

Many people remember Mephala’s cut quest from Skyrim, about Baalgruf’s kids being corrupted by the Daedric Prince’s whispers and slaying their own father. It leads to a general worsening for the hold since Baalgruf’s brother is a far worse Jarl than him, even if he does instantly join the Imperials as soon as he gains power, and ends with you betraying one of the few Jarls who trusted in you from the very start in a far worse way than you would be able to do in Vanilla by siding with the Stormcloaks.

Everyone knows about that cut quest.

But how many people even ever heard about Boethia’s Bidding till this post came along?

Boethia’s Bidding is a cut continuation quest for the vanilla Boethia’s quest, Boethia’s Calling. After slaying her former champion and gaining the Ebony Mail, the prince will appear to you and ask you one final show of power and loyalty to them.

You will need to go to Solitude, and slay Jarl Elisif as she’s wrecked by Paranoia and fear at the plots happening all around her.

It’s a very stealth/speech oriented quest. Boethia’s machinations have left Elisif a nervous wreck, locked up in her room and armed in fear of potential assassin, unwilling to see anyone, the security in the palace tripled.

You will either sneak inside (in which case if they find you in a “forbidden” zone the guards will turn hostile) or you can talk your way inside to the steward, and convince to let you talk to her as her friend/thane, or even become her personal bodyguard, all the while being escorted by at least ONE guard.

It seems like an interesting, stealth/assassin oriented quest honestly, but I’m not here to talk about this.

So, you get inside Elisif Room, posing as her bodyguard, and she tells you this.

Image Description: Elisif Direct Quote from the cut quest: "I'm glad they finally believed me. About the assassin I mean. It's been so hard since my Torygg passed. No one takes me seriously. So how's this work exactly? Do you just kind of stand there on the look out? That's what Bolgeir does. Well, he sort of looms more than stands. Bolgeir's loyal, but even he doesn't do what I ask. Case in point, this whole assassin thing. Well at least I have you now. Look at me ramble... Well, I guess I'll go about my business sulking in here. You can stand over there in the corner watching for assassins."

No one fucking takes Elisif seriously. Ever. The steward will berate her suspicions when you ask him about assassins, and everyone will simply go “grief must have make her go mad, poor girl.”

Everyone underestimates her and shit, and you MIGHT think this quest is trying to remedy on that, especially since her worries are funded, instead it seems the only way you can end this quest is by killing Elisif.

After you do it, Boethia will appear and congratulate you for your doing, and... seemingly give you nothing but their respect. Erikur (The thieves guild plant) will become the new Jarl of Solitude, hence him having Jarl dialogues and the Jarl title in game (I always assumed he was supposed to be the Stormcloak Jarl, but this makes it even worse somehow).

The quest is unfinished so we don’t know what would Elisif’s death bring to the also unfinished Civil War questline.

We have to keep in mind a couple things tho, such as Boethia’s shrine being very close to Winshelm, and Stormcloak Alligned guards and soldiers commenting on how their cause seem to have been favoured by “Daedric Nobility” itself... when they are not calling Elisif a bitch rotting in oblivion that is.

Since we know for a fact from Elder Scrolls Legends lore that Boethia was directly supporting the Thalmor War Effort, it’s not difficult to say who actually asked the prince for Elisif’s death, or why would they decide to support the Stormcloaks in such a way. Erikur, the new Jarl who has close commercial ties with both the Dominion, the Empire, the Thieves Guild AND the Stormcloaks, is ALSO heavily implied to have had an hand in the assassination, without however tying it to the Dark Brotherhood for some reason.

We can also be glad they didn’t decide to add this quest to the game either. Elisif is already an INCREDIBLY wasted character in Vanilla, to waste and ruin her even more by simply fridging her out of nowhere and with no reward, only to then have her be cursed by her enemies as the man who plotted her murder seats on her throne all smug about it.

There is also another thing we need to keep in mind however, and that’s for the possibility that this, again, unfinished quest is missing other possible options. Boethia tells you a very specific line when you finish this quest after all:

Image Decription: “Remember always this: You need answer to no authority, neither mortal, nor divine... As you will it, so it shall be.”

The divine part is particularly important. Boethia is demanding for you to do their bidding (title drop), yet at the same time they claim everything should be done by your own free will. Maybe there IS a way to finish the quest without killing Elisif, to spite the Deadric prince by your own free will and not kill her.

Erikur is involved, so say there actually IS an assassin in the Blue Palace among the many, seemingly useless thanes and housecarls in Elisif court, among all her servants or guards? Maybe you have to beat them to the time to kill Elisif, or in turn you can also save her from them. You save Elisif, expose Erikur who is put in Jail/executed, his sister becomes the new Thieves Guild Plant for their missions, and Elisif now either trusts you alot and is willing to follow your advice and shit, or better yet has finally understood that she needs to be her own woman and shit, meaning that if this happens before season unending in season unending she will be far more assertive and will be far more proactive alongside Tullius, but in case of Stormcloak victories she will also die (In which case Erikur gets in power) as she attempts to assassinate Ulfric and probably dies in the process. (which you can stop or not, in which case the rebellion is in shambles even if Skyrim is indipendent now, and everything sucks even more than it would under Ulfric since the next in line for the throne is Galmar).

Either way after you find the second assassin and actually save Elisif (Maybe have hearts and apples involved for some nice Snow White symbolism? Important for later), either gaining her trust or making her a shrewder ruler as a result, maybe even both, Boethia will appear to you when you are finally alone.

They will congratulate you to have “outplotted” the lord of plots, much like Hircine congratulates you for hunting the hunters during his own quest, and for having followed your own free will, especially after having literally murdered a guy who had started doing the exact same thing (following his free will rather than Boethia’s orders), which would make you either incredibly stupid or incredibly far sighted, since now Elisif is on the path to become a ruler following the spirit of Boethia’s teaching, if indirectly, and you will be her trusted advisor, the only one who believed her when she realized there was a traitor in their midst, giving you (and Boethia as her champion) much power in turn.

Of course, this is me giving Todd way too much credit. The quest was probably as set up as it was in the scripts to the letter because Bethesda can’t stand the thought of a Girlboss winning, it was just never implemented, and all this new way to end it was never intended to exist, but you know, it’d be really nice if we did something with Elisif outside of the way she’s already treated in canon.

It’d be cliche in a way, and it’d be not as well written as I wished it was, but it would still be SOMETHING MORE than the way she’s treated in canon.

You know... Elisif the Fair... becoming Elisif the Girlboss. Under Boethia’s blessing. And with the Dragonborn kneeling at her side as her vizier and enforcer.

A Wicked Hunter befitting of the Fairest Queen of them all.

Wouldn’t that be rad?

#skyrim #elisif the fair #elder scrolls #tes lore #skyrim lore #skyrim mod #there's a mod that puts the cut quest back as it is unfortunately #boethiah #boethiah's calling #boethiah's bidding

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lucivar · 3 years ago

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Most excellent lucivar, as an incredibly imaginative and funny author and the creator of the #prayforHiram tag, would you share your top 5 most outrageous head canons about Hiram Lodge? Please and thank you! (I know a guy who knows a guy who can deliver all the doritos without asking any questions, if you're interested)

OMG THIS ASK IS BRILLIANT! Thank you so much for gracing my inbox with this! SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO RESPOND!

So my feelings for Hiram in Riverdale went from “Aw yes racketeering for the capital value play!” to “what. the. actual. fuck.” from s1 to s5, but in that glorious transformation, like a butterfly from a chrysalis, Hiram has become one of my favourite characters. #prayforHiram

So, I thought a lot about this and I just couldn’t stop laughing at the crack my brain was coming up with, so here, as you so kindly prompted, are my top 5(ish) most outrageous headcanons.

Villainy is just showbiz, kids. Hiram is a fucking star and Riverdale is his stage.

Read the nonsense under the cut.

After being denied his acting opportunity, Jaime Luna took his Hiram Lodge inspiration from The Godfather: Little Jaime Luna got the idea after watching Don Vito Corleone’s speech in the Godfather and imagined having the same power, respect and flair. He really, really wanted to be a STAR, but mommy and daddy Luna did not allow it because Jaime really needed to focus on taking over the family business. He considers every interaction a moment for his glory, an opportunity to show off his brilliance, his chiselled jaw or his wrestling prowess.

He has a script - I mean - grand plan: Don’t ruin it, or he’ll come for you and get his goons to beat you up. (LOOKING AT YOU, COFFIN BOY)

He demands PERFECTION and FLAIR of his associates. He will not be denied: He asks his associates for the same ~dramatique flair~ that he possesses, which is why he and Penelope have a weird truce and why he only accepted Reggie Mantle once he grew into his glam rocker haircut and could cock a pistol in perfect synchronicity with his other goons. One of my regrets is that we never saw the OG Stonies and Hiram team up because that would have been insufferably perfect (and I would have added a new tag for Bret: #gayforHiram)

He will be centre stage no matter what: As a denied theatre kid, he feels like he missed the opportunity to be in the spotlight. As a consequence he hates when Archie takes Veronica away from him, because all he wants to do is have her NOTICE HIM and vice versa (see: Hermione Lodge’s comment “your obsession with archie andrews will ruin this family”).

The only RiverParent that strikes fear into his heart is Gladys: Fred is a homewrecking slut (Hiram’s opinion, not my own), Tom Keller has no stomach for villainy, Clifford was boring AF and barely a rival, Hal had a weak chin (which could not hold a candle to Hiram’s own), Mary gives him nothing to work with (Hiram gets bored), Sierra is excellent because she is corrupt and loves it, Miles reminds him of his father, Alice can be easily distracted with some random chaos and FP is hopeless. Gladys, however, is terrifying and people PAY ATTENTION TO HER. Hiram does not like this. People pay attention to Penelope, but attention whore to attention whore (affectionate) he *understands* her. She has a flair for the dramatic; she is the epitome of cloak and dagger, as long as the cloak is fur-trimmed and she’s naked underneath. Hiram gets this, and he hates her for putting Veronica in danger, but they have a shaky truce (yes, this truce includes burning down the maple groves because yolo).

On the other hand, Gladys is cold fucking psycho bitch who gives no fucks and would step all over Hiram’s ego without even realising it. Now that’s power. #girlboss

Hiram has two (barely) acceptable partners for Veronica: No one will ever be good enough for Veronica Lodge. I know it, he knows it and he has no qualms telling her suitors that they suck a bag of dicks. He has never liked Archie, but over time the boy with the absTM has grown on him like a tumor (#prayforHiram) because Archie has a flair for villainous drama (see: the Red Circle) and is susceptible to suggestion (see: the Red Circle). He is also musically inclined. Not that he’s good, but Hiram probably thinks that if he just took Archiekins under his wing that he could someday become a triple threat. Many of Hiram’s favourite memories involve beating and beating up Archie. He is the least worst choice and for that reason he will tolerate him. I totally stan andsmile’s theory about Hiram being a barchie hater and setting fire to the porch to break them up so that he can get invited to the varchie wedding. He just wants to do the Don Corleone speech. LET HIM, YOU MONSTERS.

The other person he will tolerate is Cheryl Blossom aka Cherry Bombshell aka Nightmare Child. Now that woman knows how to fuck shit up. Plus it would upset Penelope a bit, so that’s exciting.

If you’re wondering about Reggie, it’s: eh? Like, Hiram prefers him with the flair hair, but he’s too scruffy for Veronica now. Maybe he would change his tune if Reggie put out fires or mined palladium with his shirt off. No promises tho.

Other headcannons

When Hiram quarantined Riverdale, the real longcon was to cut off the Dorito supply routes: #LetThemEatTostitos. Ungrateful, meddling twerps.

“Mija, I built that prison, I can come and go as I please”: strong Narcos fan. He watches it in his home-made prison mancave, practicing “Plata o plomo” to perfect the intonation. <3

The real reason he blew up the prison is that the paperwork was becoming too tedious. The real travesty these days is how many lawyers are needed for good old-fashioned villany. Due to the depreciation schedule of the prison, he still had a few years until his assets were fully amortised (it also got super fucked up in the time jump seven years from 2020 to 2021 - many of his taxation lawyers quit because of THAT mind fuck). So Hiram blew up his prison to claim malicious damages. He probably blamed it on a tweaked-out Jughead.

The real reason he wants a palladium mine is to fill Archie porn bingo squares: Miner, Fireman, Boxer, Footballer, Teacher/Coach, Soldier, Prisoner, Musician, Gang member, Farmer, Superhero, Minor (hahah don’t shoot me, I’m just commenting on Riverdale’s serves) #It’slegalnow

Hope you enjoyed these and thanks so much for waiting so long for me to FINALLY COMPLETE IT. <3

#hiram lodge #the campiest villain #river!crack #raymondebidochonlifechoices #lucivar answers questions with way too much detail #prayforhiram #gayforhiram #stayforhiram

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miraculouswolf99 · 4 years ago

Text

Miraculous Lemonade (Song Fic)

I love the movie Lemonade Mouth and thought that the favoritism shown to the athletes over everyone else on the movie was similar to the favoritism shown to those with high-ranking parents in Miraculous Ladybug. So, an idea instantly formed in my mind. Includes my original characters Lyon and Vallia Garden.

youtube

*****

Adrien sat in the park outside of the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, eating with is two friends from Greece, Lyon and Vallia Garden. The two were doing an exchange program that helped students from other countries experience other cultures. They spoke fluent French, so they came to Paris. Adrien met them years ago when his family went to a charity fashion show that was held at the animal and nature sanctuary that Lyon and Vallia’s family owned.

The three may be a “little” annoyed with what had just happened at school. Lila “Liar” Rossi had framed Marinette for cheating, assault, and theft. Adrien made, what he called, a “deal with the devil” to get Marinette back in school. But it seemed that after her first few days back, Marinette’s parents decided it was better for her to go to an arts school instead of Dupont.

What infuriated the trio the most was that the school made no effort to investigate any of Lila’s accusations. There was no checking the security footage, no dusting for fingerprints, not even any hearing of Marinette’s side of the story. They simply took Lila at her word and some easily framed evidence to expel the best student at Dupont. It made them all furious.

“You know the favoritism shown at your school is appalling, right,” Vallia raised an eyebrow as she looked at her friend.

Adrien sighed. “I know, I know. But what could I do about it? I’m the son of a fashion designer, not a politician like Chloe.”

“That brat’s a part of the problem, anyway,” Lyon scoffed. “The entire school was punished and she is the only one that gets out of it? I’ve seen less corrupt politicians in Gotham, and that says something.”

“I know people criticize me for being Chloe’s friend, but would you two give up a friend that you’ve had since you were a kid,” Adrien asked them.

“Honestly, no,” Vallia said. “We get how you feel, Adrien, but one day Chloe will do something unforgivable and you will have to choose between her and your other friends.”

“I think I chose a while ago but just didn’t want to admit it,” Adrien says. “Chloe had her chance to be a better person when she was Queen Bee. But even after getting to be a hero, she still got her father, Sabrina, and Aurore akumatized.”

“Is there anyone she hasn’t akumatized,” Lyon crossed his arms.

“Out of all our class, only Marinette and I have not been akumatized,” Adrien says. “And for everyone that has, only Max, Nino, and Lila were not akumatized by her.”

“Well, Lila being akumatized was probably her own fault anyway,” Lyon shrugged. “She lies with every breath she takes and one of them probably bit her in the butt at one time or another.”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you guys yet, have I,” Adrien thought he had told them already.

“Told us what,” Vallia asked.

“You two were not here when she had her real first day,” Adrien tells them. “Lila lied on Alya’s blog about being Ladybug’s best friend. She had met me after school and tried to lie about not only being the descendant of a hero but also being the holder of the fox miraculous.”

“Seriously,” Lyon raised an eyebrow. “She was actually that stupid? Why not just put up a giant light-up sign that says ‘Hawkmoth, come and attack me,’ with her address written in neon.”

“If she hasn’t been targeted, Hawkmoth probably knows that she’s a liar,” Vallia said.

Adrien nodded. “During our conversation, Ladybug herself showed up. She probably saw Lila’s interview because she immediately called Lila out for her lies. Ladybug obviously hates liars as much as Marinette. Lila ran away and the next thing I know, she is breaking into my house while akumatized as Volpina and once again claiming to be a hero.”

“So that’s how you know she’s a liar,” Vallia understood now. “But why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Because at the time she was only lying to get attention and friends,” Adrien said. “Have you seen my class, we’re all special in a lot of ways. Alya runs the most popular blog in Paris. Nino gets a lot of attention as a DJ. Juleka, Rose, and Ivan are members of a band that has been getting a lot of attention lately. Rose is friends with Prince Ali. Chloe is the mayor’s daughter. I am a model and the face of my dad’s brand. Even Marinette knows Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and has impressed my father and Chloe’s Style Queen of a mother with her designs. Compared to all of us, Lila’s lies are not that unbelievable.”

Vallia and Lyon actually see where he was coming from. Being surrounded by people her own age and yet they have accomplished so much, it made sense why Lila would want to lie about herself like that.

“But then she took things too far, right,” Lyon asked his friend.

Adrien nodded. “Once she came back from her, so called, trip to Achu, she started using her lies to manipulate the class, which you guys have seen. She lied about having tinnitus so she could sit next to me, lied about having a sprained wrist to get Kim to carry her lunch tray, she even lied about having an allergy to tomatoes to make Rose take them out of her salad for her.”

“Isn’t that why she was akumatized into Chameleon,” Vallia remembered Adrien telling them. “You told her to stop lying.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said. “When she suddenly left for her ‘trip,’ I saw no reason to humiliate her by telling people about Ladybug calling her out. Plus, it’s not like they had any reason to believe me since none of them ever believed Marinette when she told them that Lila is a liar.”

“And it does not help that no one in school ever tries to actually fact-check her stories,” Lyon rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like it’s hard, either,” Vallia agreed with her brother. “Jagged Stone published his autobiography three months ago. There is no mention of a cat, a plane crash, or anyone named Lila in the entire book. It even specifically says that he had Fang, his crocodile, since he was twenty. That is fifteen years that he has had him.”

“I know, I know, my school is full of the most gullible people in Paris,” Adrien sighed. “And now that Marinette is gone, it seems like Chloe and Lila have teamed up and are ruling the school with iron fists. I can barely get a minute without one of them hanging off my arm.”

“And it’s not like any of the teachers or Damocles are doing anything,” Lyon says. “I’ve seen you, ask, request, and even demand for them to let go of you and they never do. You’ve even done it in front if some teachers and none of them ever did anything.”

“It’s the daughter of the mayor and the daughter of a diplomat,” Vallia sighed. “They will, most likely, never do anything. Even if it involves the son of a rich fashion designer.”

“It’s not like we can do anything about it,” Adrien sounded defeated. “Damocles is too afraid of losing money from the mayor and it’s not like Chloe and Lila are ever going to change.”

He was rubbing his very sore and bruised upper right arm, which Lila had been holding onto very tightly for most of the school day. And he knew that he would also probably have to deal with more of her harassment at the next photoshoot that he has with her.

“But... can even Damocles deny change when the entire school is rallied against him and those like him,” Lyon smirked.

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking, Lyon, and I am in total agreement,” Vallia brightly smiled.

“Uh... mind cluing me in, guys,” Adrien was completely lost.

“Well, you know that Lyon and I are friends with Clara Nightingale,” Vallia started.

Adrien nodded. When the pop star had come to Paris to shoot her “Miraculous” music video, she had basically tackled the twins when she saw them. Apparently, she had met them years ago when she did a charity concert at their family sanctuary and even now treated the two like they were younger siblings to her.

“Clara had told us the reason why she started performing in the first place,” Lyon continued for his sister. “When she was our age, she attended a high school that focused entirely on athletics and nothing else. To the point where all other extracurriculars were pushed into the basement with no budget for any of them. So she used her music to spread the massage of what was happening. She wound up getting a sponsor for the music program that built an entire auditorium for her school even when the principal tried to deny it.”

“So, she basically started a music revolution,” Adrien summed up.

“Exactly,” Vallia says. “We can do the same here. Use music to show that not everyone tolerates the favoritism. It should prove more of a problem since all three of us are rich but also see it as a problem.”

“We should probably also add those that are not like us,” Adrien says. “Kitty Section could help, plus Luka and Juleka are not under Lila’s spell.”

“But Rose and Ivan are,” Lyon reminded. “Without them, we would not have a drummer or a singer. Vallia and I can sing, but neither of us play the drums. I’m classically trained on the violin and Vallia doesn’t play any instrument.”

“Kim plays the drums,” Vallia said. “And when Lila got Marinette expelled, he snapped out of her spell.”

“Guess we have our plan,” Adrien says.

“We’ll talk with Nathaniel and Marc,” Lyon said. “They can spread it to the rest of the school and we will soon have as much support as we will need before we perform and get the Board of Education involved.”

“But what about your father, Adrien,” Vallia was worried about her friend’s ‘stick-in-the-mud’ of a parent. “He would never agree with you being a part of any type of revolution.”

“Well, my father will just have to deal with it,” Adrien shrugged. “Plus, I can always spin it to make it look good for the brand when my fans see it as me trying to help those that are neglected because they are not rich.”

The twins smirked as they walked off to get their friends in on their plan.

*****

Luka and Juleka were more than happy to use music to change Dupont for the better. Luka went to an arts school, but Juleka wanted a normal school and she was currently regretting her choice. Kim was also very glad to finally be able to show that he was more than just a jock and that he was about more than just dares and jokes. Seeing the bruises that Lila and Chloe had been leaving on Adrien’s arms just motivated them even more.

They decided to give their performance at a school dance that was coming soon. The entire school would be there. And when they talked to Marc, his class’s president Aurore contacted the Board of Education and they were going to send a few members to check out the problem.

“You guys ready,” Luka asked them as he picked up his guitar.

“Ready as we will ever be,” Juleka answers.

“I’m just glad to finally be able to stick it to the man,” Kim grins brightly.

“The song you guys chose is certainly a good one,” Adrien looks at Lyon and Vallia.

“What can we say, we love American Disney movies,” Vallia smirked. “Makes us glad that we’re fluent in english.”

The dance got dark, allowing them to get onto the stage that was set up for them. They had convinced Damocles to let them perform, saying they had an important message to give out with their music. Since three of the performers were rich, he let them. It did not go unnoticed how he had rejected Kitty Section when they had wanted to perform at the last dance even when they had told him the same thing.

Adrien stood behind the keyboard as Kim sat at the drums while Juleka picked up her bass and Luka stood with his guitar. Lyon was taking the lead singing position while Vallia was back-up vocals and running their “special” effects. They all had their own mics for them they took turns singing their verses. They were going to get their message out whether people at Dupont wanted it to or not.

Adrien was just glad he managed to avoid both Lila and Chloe since there was no way either of them would have let go of him and let him perform. But after this, he hoped to never have to deal with either of them ever again.

The music started, the spotlights shining down on them. Lyon took the lead and began.

Lyon- “Hear it getting louder, a call for revolution Yeah, we came for what was ours, it's time for restitution We'll protect our own, take back the stone No, human nature cannot hold us down.” Luka- “Stranded at the bottom, but we're more than a whisper No, we'll never be forgotten, our blood's thicker than silver, yeah When worlds collide, it's do or die So tell me, is it wrong to stand your ground?” Lyon+ Luka- “Hear us howl, all or nothing Fangs are out, we ain't running Hear us howl, it's all or nothing.” All six- “Oh oh oh oh This is a declaration Oh oh oh oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone.”

Lyon gave a wink to his sister and she started the real part of the show. With members of the board in the audience, this was going to force some changes to be made.

She pressed a button, images and videos started showing on the giant screen behind them. If they could see the board members, they would have seen some very furious faces.

All of the images were of destroyed property, bruises or scratches on people, and even of old things like the destroyed make-up bag that Chloe took a marker to. Then was the clear message when pictures of Lila and Chloe were shown with GUILTY under their pictures then with pictures of the school staff with DOES NOTHING under them.

Lila, Chloe, and Damocles were all white as ghosts.

Vallia- “The world has gone crazy and no one seems to listen Gotta step in, no more maybes, and stop the demolition Is it hope or fear? Look in the mirror Everything we built is coming down.” Juleka- “No more hesitation, it's time we start to realize With all this separation, silence is still taking sides So use your voice, make a choice And tell me, are you standing with the crowd?” All six- “Oh oh oh oh This is a declaration Oh oh oh oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone.” Then videos were played on the screen. The first were from the day that Marinette was expelled. It was footage from the school security cameras that they got when Markov, the ever helpful AI, hacked into them when the group asked for his help. He was more than happy to help slap some sense into Max.

It clearly showed Lila taking the test answers and putting them in Marinette’s bag. It also showed her fake falling down the stairs and placing her necklace into Marinette’s locker. The video moved on to showing all the times that her or Chloe would grab onto Adrien and would never let go no matter how many times he told them to. The video also showed it happening in front of teachers and they never did anything.

More videos showed Chloe bullying, destroying other art projects that were not her own, and even all the things she did that got most of the class akumatized when it happened on school grounds. They also got videos from Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and every other celebrity that Lila lied about. All of them saying they had never met Lila in their lives. All six- “Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy We say no more bad blood, no more bad blood Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy No way, they can't stop us, no, they can't stop us Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy We say no more bad blood, no more bad blood Ayy, ayy, ayy ayy No way, they can't stop us, no, they can't stop us.”

More videos and photos identified every bully in the school. Each and every single one of them being rich, or have influential parents that Damocles was afraid of, or both. The other students all gathered near the stage, showing their support to the band and hardly anyone supporting the staff or the bullies. Alya was still speechless over Lila’s lies being revealed and what she had said to Marinette in “defense” of Lila. Sabrina was also pale as she remembered everything that Chloe ever made her do, like stealing Marinette’s diary and locking Juleka in the bathroom. Adrien- “History changes, but we lost the pages we wrote When you lose direction, can't see the reflection you know We came from the bottom then became the problem Now everything's out of control So hey, are you with me? Let's go!”

The students cheered and danced as the band all sang. They all knew that they were now going to finally be free of the bullies and liars that have been plaguing their lives for years. All six- “Oh oh oh oh This is a declaration Oh oh oh oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone.”

The band finished with a bang, staring down the staff with cold eyes that said that they regretted nothing. Everyone they stared as were about as pale as a person could be.

After the dance, the Board of Education members brought everything that they had learned and seen to the rest of the board. Actions were immediately taken over the weekend. There was an intense investigation into the school and every member of the staff. Not that surprising, but Mendeleiev was the only staff member that never did anything wrong but was constantly blocked from doing anything by the other staff members.

Damocles was revealed to have been using money granted to the school for things like locker upgrades and new textbooks for his Owl gear instead. Plus he was also found out to be taking many bribes from parents of the bullies to not only keep them from being punished but to also increase their grades if they were low. He was fired immediately.

Bustier also faces a lot of consequences. When the investigation was made known, dozens of her old students came forward. It was revealed that her methods have caused all of them pain. She had spent years coddling the bullies and punishing the victims. Many ended up in therapy while the bullies usually ended up in jail for mostly violent crimes. She had her teaching license revoked and was blacklisted from ever teaching again.

The rest of the staff were all suspended until they finished courses about how to deal with bullies, how to properly run a classroom, as well as all of them having to pay finds.

All of the bullies were either expelled or suspended, depending on how horrible they were. A lot of them were having to repeat the grade because of how much their parents had spent to keep their grades up while they did hardly any work.

Alya, while being sued for the lies she posted on her blog, did not do anything else beyond cyber bullying of Marinette. But that did get her another lawsuit from her former best friend’s parents as well as being suspended from school for a week. Her parents forced her to delete the Ladyblog.

Chloe and Lila were, of course, the worst of them all.

Chloe ended up expelled and it was found out that she was also banded from every private school in the city because of how well her bullying habits were known. Her father was also facing multiple accusations of abuse of power because of how he handled problems that his daughter caused. Chloe could also hardly ever leave the hotel without being sneered or yelled at by literally everyone in Paris.

Lila was not only expelled, but also had giant finds placed on her after she was arrested for her months of truancy. Every celebrity she had ever lied about was also suing her for slander, defamation, and libel. It was also revealed that her mother had taken away her diplomatic immunity once she had learned about all the lies that her daughter told her and everyone around her. Her reputation as a liar has spread all throughout France and she will never be able to use her schemes ever again. Her mother makes sure to inform all her future teachers and principals about her lying and bullying habits.

All while this is happening, the new band clinks their glasses together as they cheers for a job well done. And if Adrien also happens to be kissed by a certain Greek lead singer, that is just a bonus for him.

#lila salt #Lila exposed #alya salt #chloe salt #original character #music #lemonade mouth #z.o.m.b.i.e.s.#disney #damocles salt #bustier salt

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the-lightning-strikes-again · 4 years ago

Note

I know the purple lion/palladin would be amazing, but Lotor as black palladin? That would be very sexy of him. Imagine Black choosing him after Zarkon stolen him/died. The bayard changed for him during blood duel. Your headcanons?

Hi, anon! Thanks for the note! Yeah, it seems like Black Lion at least acknowledged Lotor in some way, for him to use that bayard. Even if that were a fluke/one-time thing, then Lotor, as a prince known for fighting alongside his soldiers in battle, commanding generals of varying personalities, being an expert pilot, and being charismatic enough to win enemies to his side, seems to have a lot of leadership qualities that Black Lion would look for.

I could see Black Lion choosing Lotor after defeating his father, but I also wonder if maybe another musical lions event would happen at an earlier time that was critical for Keith as well?

I started thinking about headcanons for a possible Black Paladin Lotor VLD remix…and ahh, got a little carried away into basically writing a story outline for it, haha:

In this AU, Keith’s reluctance to lead and his increasing interest in Blade of Marmora, along with Shiro’s clone being contaminated by Haggar’s magic, would perhaps establish why Black Lion seeks out Lotor and searches his heart as a candidate to begin with.

It could happen in a revised ending to s4, where maybe Lotor’s move to stop Keith from sacrificing himself to save others is a little more harrowing. Like say in the attempt, Keith still gets injured and Lotor’s ship is destroyed, and Zarkon’s forces are pounding down on them. So Lotor boards Black Lion in a desperate attempt to save them both from his father. Black Lion acknowledges Lotor has an interest in Saving the Whole™ in a way that Keith hadn’t grown to understand yet, so it opens its controls to him. The battle continues with Lotor shakingly at Black Lion’s controls, in the lead of Team Voltron.

Bonus if during this entire switch, the consoles to all of the Lions begin to glow brighter, because on the astral plane, the Lions are in communication with Black Lion, deliberating on the decision to accept Lotor as the new Black Paladin. They accept after Black Lion shows them that it will connect with Lotor and make him understand things too. The consoles in the Lions then return to normal, and Lotor’s spirit is locked in on the astral plane, which he feels.

Double bonus points if in this scenario, Keith is fully aware of what’s happening (maybe he just has a broken arm and leg or something), and he’s in a frazzle, trying to tell Lotor how to use the controls to get them out of there. And Lotor snaps back, also in a frazzle, “Don’t tell me how to fly.”

Triple bonus point if the other paladins are kinda freaking out that Lotor just took control of Black Lion, and that Black Lion accepted it.

“If you want to survive to argue with me, paladins of Voltron,” Lotor calls roughly through the controls, “then fight with me now against my father.”

Hunk is squeaking in shock and executive dysfunction. Pidge is flailing like, “Uh, guys??? Can he just do that??” Lance is sputtering because “Excuse me, why is HE the Black Paladin now?” Allura is very, very silent. Her father had connected her life-force to Voltron—so perhaps she felt the Lions’ debate on the astral plane. She very quietly moves to say, “Keith is injured, and we can’t lose Voltron to Zarkon. This is our only option for now.” And she demands to Lotor, “Black Lion has accepted you, which means it—” her face ticks—“trusts you in some way to get us out of here. And we’re taking on fire. We need a unified response.”

Coran is flailing in the background on the Castle ship. Shiro is eyes narrowed, leaning forward in curiosity about this son of Zarkon.

Haggar is watching through Shiro, in shock.

Lotor reverts to his training, offering simple commands to push back his father’s forces and have the Voltron Lions rendezvous back at the Castle ship for further discussion.

Lotor had no idea how deep the well of power was within Voltron. Like, he knew this thing was a beast of a war machine, but he had no idea it was quite like this.

Lotor tiredly boards the Castle of Lions, helping a limping Keith out of Black Lion. The sight makes Hunk and Pidge hesitant to throw Lotor into the Tube of Shame. Lance and Shiro move to help Keith, who’s trying to awkwardly brush off that he just tried to commit suicide and that he has a broken arm and several sprains. Shenanigans abound.

Allura walks up to Lotor, eyeing him hard. He eyes her back. (Is this the first time he’s really seen Allura???). Bonus if he blushes holding her gaze. Just a lil.

Allura moves to demand of Lotor, “How did you manage to convince Black Lion to give you control? What did you see? What did it tell you?”

Lotor admits he intended to board Black Lion to plea for his life in exchange for information about his father, who clearly despises him. Black Lion responding to him in such a way was a complete surprise to him as well.

Keith is meanwhile getting bandaged up and is leaning against Black Lion’s paw. He’s kinda relieved he doesn’t feel the leadership bond. But he’s also relieved that Black Lion still sends him positive waves. Black Lion simply knows his heart is elsewhere and that he is a good Blade, in the way of his mother. And good leaders know resources work best where they’re happiest/most productive. Black Lion knows they will see lots of Keith yet.

Lotor sighs and offers himself up for incarceration and interrogation for how to undo the bond with Black Lion. He didn’t want to be like his father, anyway.

The fact that he rejects the legacy of his father makes Allura hesitate. She knows Black Lion wouldn’t choose someone it couldn’t trust or teach, and that its own ears had grown deaf to Zarkon. Instead of incarcerating him, Allura does demand that Lotor live up to Black Lion’s expectations, and that he accept the Castle scanning him for potential bugs or possible security breaches. Also, that he undergo the same tests she put the paladins through originally.

Black Lion often shows Lotor visions of the past—of a version of his father who once did great and protective things for the galaxy. Things that Lotor has dreamed of being able to do, and that he can do through Voltron. Lotor tries to understand what all went so wrong with his father and how he might have some things in common with this pre-corrupted version of Zarkon. He panics when he realizes that Haggar is actually a corrupted form of his true mother, and he tries to deny it.

Haggar, meanwhile, has not yet recalled her life as Honerva. She knows Voltron is still the key to opening the rift…or else that she can do something with the comet Lotor had started building ships out of…

Season 4 ends/Season 5 begins with Keith temporarily in the healing pod, and Lotor picking up the armor of the Black Paladin. There might be some form of Lion musical chairs again, unless Keith convinces Lance that being someone’s right hand also means working to ensure that the leader has his head on straight. Which, honestly, Lance might be a little over the top, but he is good at questioning stuff and was shown in s3 to admirably pick up slack where Keith flailed.

Bonus points if Lance activates that Altean broadsword again during Lotor’s training and fights him, with Lotor praising his tenacity while also schooling him on technique and strategy. This reiterates Black Lion’s judgement in naming him Black Paladin and results in Lance tentatively accepting Lotor as Black Paladin. Lotor perhaps realizes that some of the animosity has nothing to do with lions and mostly to do with Lance’s interest in Allura. He wins some favor with Lance by offering to teach him the art of the sword.

Lotor ends up sleeping in Black Lion often because he doesn’t quite trust the paladins either. Not yet. He blushies if he ends up accidentally running into a pajama-clad Allura in the middle of the night. Realizes awkwardly that the paladins call his father The Turtle, and that he himself is also afraid to take off his armored shell. Which means he is a little more like his father than he thought. But he doesn’t feel safe enough to take his armor off yet with the paladins around….until he realizes that they are not wearing armor around him at all.

Keith is easily healed in the Altean healing pod and takes up his position in the Blades full-time. The Blades and Team Voltron get closer than ever, working together most days to take down strategic Galran outposts.

Kolivan interrogates Lotor at least once.

Hunk is probably the most diplomatic with Lotor during the initial integration phase. He asks questions about Lotor and what it was like growing up as Zarkon’s son. Lotor trusts Hunk’s opinion on most things, especially when it comes to the sensibilities of other Voltron Coalition allies. But he does rely on Hunk to help him know what’s good food, too.

The colony plot doesn’t exist in this AU, but I could see a version where maybe past!Lotor tried to help out Alteans like Bandor escaping his father’s genocides—and that the attempt to help them escape didn’t go so well. So Lotor clings hard to the concept of Black Lion giving him the chance to protect people again. Maybe in this remix, Pidge helps Lotor to hack into top-secret Galran systems that Zarkon had blocked him from. It creates the opportunity for Team Voltron to break out various Altean prisoners from Zarkon/Haggar’s clutches, who were either being harvested or forced to work for the empire in secret locations. Bonus points if Bandor was one of those prisoners who gets freed and lives to reunite with his long-lost sister. The s5 arc would therefore in part be the Voltron coalition working to actually establish a true Altean colony based off the number of prisoners they free. Allura is breaking down in happy tears that she and Coran and Lotor aren’t the only ones left.

Lotor starts piecing together that Haggar was searching all of these Alteans for information about a place called Oriande. He comes to realize that it’s a real place and encourages Team Voltron that they have to get there before Haggar does.

Lotor gets his cat back somehow. Kova probably tries to chase Allura’s mice around, resulting in shenanigans and at least one overturned table and a food goo fight. Bonus points if it ends with the mice cuddling up to Kova for warm sleepy time.

Keith’s space wolf he picks up during a Blades mission, Kosmo, ends up chasing Kova at least once.

Kova has very odd diet demands that occasionally make Team Voltron go on a side adventure to look for something. Lotor had gotten used to his generals doing this for so long but enjoys trips to the Space Mall to find toys for his kitty.

Coran and Krolia tend to mother-hen a bit more over Team Voltron during this time. Lotor finds better parental figures / role models in them. Lotor might open up to them about Haggar being Honerva.

Dayak comes to visit at least once, upset that Lotor has turned his head from the position of emperor of the Galra. She might be how Lotor gets his cat back. Dayak thinks Team Voltron is beneath Lotor but sticks around because her ultimate loyalties are to Lotor.

Lance gets Lotor into video games.

Lotor sometimes assists Keith with understanding certain odd things the Blades do as Galrans, which helps Keith rise in ranks there and continue to provide cavalry support to the Voltron Coalition.

Allura and Lotor both play in Monsters and Mana. Lotor is a bard, dumps all of his points into charisma just to see what chaos does to strategy. Keith joins in when he can, plays a princess because why not.

Lotor likes Shiro but feels there is something deeply wrong with him. He keeps information about Oriande away from Shiro, but the trip to Oriande reveals at least its location to Shiro and Haggar.

Haggar successfully reaches Oriande and passes the trials, inheriting deep knowledge. But the ancestors are silent with her and unwelcoming. Unperturbed, she then rebuilds Lotor’s fallen/abandoned ships with the comet ore, realizing how to build an anti-Voltron (the Sincline mecha). Her goal is a bigger and better mecha for Zarkon to pilot once and for all against Voltron. Because they don’t need Voltron anymore.

Being Black Paladin doesn’t mean Lotor immediately wins his way in Oriande. But he still has the Mark of the Chosen and determines that he will one day go back to finish the trials so that he can experience being connected with the ancestors.

Lotor had rather pleasantly forgotten about his old ships until he sees his designs in the risen Sincline during a battle with Zarkon. He is incredibly incensed that his father slandered his ships’ original paintjob. The paintjob honestly bothers him more for a time than the concept that Zarkon has rift technology, but he soon gets his priorities straight.

Team Voltron suffers a significant loss to Zarkon/Haggar tag-teaming Sincline. Lotor’s parents have also begun to reopen the rift, which is destroying planets and the very fabric of reality.

The Blades are called in to help.

Because Sincline is in part Lotor’s creation, the mecha has a weakness. Lotor is able to connect with it long enough to deflect some of Zarkon’s commands for it. It’s possible that a Haggar-contaminated Shiro activates at this time to try taking Black Lion back over, or to specifically unseat/injure Lotor.

Cue a major face-off again between Haggar and Allura, with Keith moving in to try and stop Shiro while Lotor desperately tries to maintain hold of Black Lion and Sincline. The entire Team Voltron spiritually works together to decouple Shiro from Haggar and to hold off Sincline long enough for other allies to arrive as backup.

Lotor’s old generals switch sides and end up helping Keith and the Blades.

Zarkon and Haggar flee, realizing that Sincline has a weakness they did not expect. A weakness they have to kill, because they’ve sensed that Lotor can and will kill them to stop them.

Haggar is unsettled because she saw in Lotor’s memories that she was actually his mother—and that he is genuinely disgusted by Haggar. This awakens a part of her entirely that not even the rift creatures/dark entities can fight.

In a symmetry to revised s3, Keith takes controls of Black Lion—which still accepts him because he’s worthy of it—to help an injured Lotor pilot to safety.

Team Voltron reconvenes in the middle of a fairly damaged galaxy, building a plan to take down Sincline before it can try opening any more rifts.

Zarkon demands that Haggar poison Sincline entirely against Lotor.

Haggar, who realizes she’s actually Honerva, starts to have significant breakdowns in trying to fulfill Zarkon’s wishes, who is her husband trying to kill her son. The more she remembers of Honerva, the stronger and more solid she becomes about who she is and how dark entities have deceived/manipulated her worst aspects. She begins to understand why the Altean ancestors had been silent with her.

Honerva realizes that Zarkon is too strongly controlled by rift creatures/dark entities, but that she’s also ruined her own chances of creating a backdoor in Sincline. Zarkon turns against her upon discovering she is no longer like him. He reaffirms that he will kill his own son to achieve supremacy, and that he will kill Haggar too if she defies him.

Honerva desperately tries to run away.

Meanwhile, Lotor acknowledges that Shiro is perhaps in a perfect position to slip past Sincline’s defenses—having had Haggar’s magic on him and her technology—and take over the ship from the inside out.

Cue an epic battle where Zarkon loses, and where Team Voltron and Lotor win because they believe in the power of teamwork and strength in unity. This results in a battered Voltron still standing, with a battered Sincline being piloted by Shiro, who has successfully connected with Sincline. In this AU, Shiro is stronger than ever in fighting off the darkness, in a reversal to his arc as Haggar’s puppet.

Sincline has been growing increasingly sentient and recognizes Shiro as the Galra’s Champion. Sincline accepts Shiro’s command to stand down.

Even with Zarkon killed, the rifts he opened are beginning to expand to destroy worlds, and Allura is trying to hold it off with the spiritual help of her fellow paladins.

A secondary, mysterious source kicks in to help her heal the rifts.

It’s Honerva, somewhere, trying to undo what she helped create.

Lotor remains Black Paladin post-battle and helps to redesign Sincline as part of a Defender Fleet. He helps the universe pick up the pieces as everyone limps along together toward a new era of peace and undoing the evils of the empire.

The Galra, recognizing Lotor as Zarkon’s son and as the inheritor of Black Lion, ask if he would be their new leader.

Lotor is tempted because he has always wanted the validation of such a title. But he already has a home with his found family—with the Fleet, where for once he feels like he’s where he is meant to be.

Lotor functions as Emperor Pro Tem to help ensure order through the next Kral Zera, backing Kolivan as the best possible leader. Which also opens up the Blade of Marmora as needing a new leader….which Keith has been training for…

Some Galra are disappointed that the reign of Zarkon’s lineage will be broken. But Lotor is in fact peaceful about it. He knows he’s going to be quite busy exploring and helping to defend the universe from whatever else may come, alongside the people who came to accept him as family.

He still ends up with an ambassadorial/very high official title within Galran government, gaining a greater respect for Kolivan and the ways the Blades work to unite the Galra under what their culture was before it got hijacked by Zarkon.

Keith’s actions in the final battle result in everyone else agreeing that he has achieved a level of leadership that is perfect for the Blades. Team Voltron attend the ceremony where he is named a Commander.

Lotor’s old generals receive honors and become official members of the Blades as well.

Lotor connects deeply with Allura and the Altean colony, and spends time on Earth learning about the human culture of his fellow paladins. He gets to explore, just like he always wanted to do. Team Voltron works in the aftermath of battle to assist in stamping out the Fires of Purification rebellion, rebuilding fallen worlds and their cultures, and protecting against dangerous space anomalies.

Black Lion is a happy Lion, keeping in contact with not just Keith, but also Sincline and by proxy the healed Shiro as well, as part of its own expanded Fleet. Black Lion recognizes it was built originally to protect just a galaxy—and it needs a greater Fleet for a much larger universe, working in harmony with more leaders. Black Lion can evolve and grow too, to recognize that Voltron really is stronger when it works together with others.

Lotor consistently spends quality bonding time alone with Black Lion—not because he doesn’t trust his expanded family. But because Black Lion was actually his first true friend who believed in him.

Black Lion enjoys getting washed and scrubbed. Lotor is very insistent that Black Lion be clean and sparkle like new at all times, because he recognizes he is a tenant of Black Lion and that Kova has a tendency to shed, and—“Kova, get down from the console! How many times—?”

The end!

Oh my god, this post got so long. I’m so sorry, anon. I really ran away with this prompt, oof. Thanks again for the note!

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berrydoodleoo · 3 years ago

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FFXIVWrite 2021: foster

“Well, my dear.” Master Matoya stepped past Y’shtola to look at the new crater in her underground lab. She’d stopped it from filling with water via a handy spell, but repairing the ruined brick and pipes was going to be a more physical sort of challenge. “Regardless of what stories Mr. Kribbet has been telling about my memory, I certainly won’t be forgetting about you anytime soon.” Matoya paused thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ve ever had any student who was such an unmitigated disaster.”

Green eyes hidden by her sodden white bangs, Y’shtola growled under her breath and stomped a foot indignantly. Her wet shoe made a little squish.

Matoya rounded on her, quick as a snake. “And what was that, Y’shtola?”

Her last student, some twenty-odd years past, would have been scrambling at her tone. Y’shtola simply glared out from under her bangs. “Nothing, Master Matoya.”

“What was that? Hm? Can’t hear you when you mumble.” Matoya poked her with her walking stick.

Y’shtola batted it away indignantly. “I didn’t say anything!”

Technically true. Well, her lab might be ruined, but the girl’s spirit was certainly intact. And she had other labs.

“I think I will put you to studying white magic, for a time,” Matoya finally concluded. “At least you’re less likely to blow the roof off the place that way. When you’re grown and safe in your own lab, you can practice more destructive magics at your leisure.”

She turned, and found the girl gaping at her, eyes gone shiny. “What’s this, then?” Matoya demanded, startled.

“Then…” Y’shtola took a deep breath. “Then I can stay? I can -- I can still be your student?”

Matoya regarded her silently. The girl was barely an adolescent, still young and insecure, lost in her herd (or should that be pack?) of older, talented sisters. Perhaps her insecurity, hidden though it was, wasn’t such a surprise. A bit of careful tutelage might help with that, Matoya mused -- tutelage, yes, nothing else, certainly not parenting. Even if her young, overlooked student could benefit from it.

“Provided you do one thing for me.” Matoya stepped forward smoothly. “You almost drowned here, you know. That whirlpool would have sucked you under and held you till you’d stopped kicking if not for my timely arrival.”

Y’shtola withdrew into herself, but only momentarily: “Just tell me what I need to do! I’ll do it!” She stood tall, only her lashing tail betraying her uncertainty. “Is it the spell? Do I need to master the spell? I almost had it--”

“Quiet,” Matoya interrupted. Y’shtola fell silent. “No, it’s not the spell. It’s not my job to teach you forbidden spells, girl, just to fish you out when you go falling in. And if you’re going to keep learning forbidden spells -- and I can see by the light in your eyes that you are -- you need to learn something much, much more valuable than magic.”

Matoya held out her hand. With the other, held behind her back, she summoned the Crystal Eye and drew upon its bottomless strength. Her extended hand shone briefly with silver light, a small shield spell that was powerful enough to make Y’shtola recoil. When the light faded, the girl looked at her questioningly, and then took her aged hand in her small brown one.

“You are going to learn to hold on,” Matoya informed her grimly. “Not just with your hands, but your whole self. All your magic, and all your soul. Beyond all good sense and reason. If you can hold tightly enough to break my shield, I’ll keep you as my student.”

Of course, it was a trick. No amount of effort a child could bring to bear would shatter a shield from the Crystal Eye. But as the girl gripped Matoya’s hand with both of hers, ears flattening and tail puffing as she summoned all of her physical strength and the impressive might of her magic, Matoya figured the trying would teach her a valuable lesson nonetheless.

(When the shield shattered, it left small scratches on the aether in Matoya’s hand, like little bolts of lightning carved into her bones. A careful spell or two, a little mental effort, and they would probably buff right out.

But she kept them anyway. As a reminder.)

Thancred had grown accustomed to rough-and-tumble on the streets of Limsa Lominsa. He’d fought his way to the top of his gang and led an attack on the meanest group of slavers the pirate city had even seen before his sixteenth birthday. He was used to tough going.

This … this was something else.

Louisoix snapped his fingers, and with a musical chime, the winds buffeting Thancred fell away. Thancred himself narrowly avoided landing fast-first in the mud, ending up on one knee instead. Panting, he sank back on his haunches.

“Not bad,” his … friend? Mentor? Teacher? Foster father? said. “You got much closer that time. However, I,” he jingled the bells in his left hand, “appear to be the victor once more.”

Thancred couldn’t help but grin ruefully, staring up at the string of golden bells. “Yes, Master Leveilleur,” he agreed. With a grunt, he pushed himself laboriously to his feet, until he could offer a proper bow to his sparring partner. “Maybe next time.”

The old man’s mouth quirked in a crooked smile. “Hope springeth eternal,” he agreed, sounding rather like Urianger. Both Louisoix and Thancred looked to the edge of the field, where Louisoix’s other student awaited his own duel; even from this distance, Thancred could see him fidgeting nervously.

“Hm, well, what lesson shall I impart today?” Louisoix wondered. Thancred stood at attention, waiting patiently. “I believe you’ve heard them all this point. You certainly don’t need the one about persistence in the face of failure.”

Thancred winced. Louisoix didn’t mean it as a barb, he was certain, but it landed like one nonetheless.

“No, not that one. Nor the one about the tree that bends, or the thrush that survives, or honor like an oasis in the desert.”

Louisoix dipped his chin in a nod. Thancred’s face heated, embarrassed and pleased, and he looked away. Everyone else in Sharlayan might see him a shiftless thief, and those who knew his story saw only an arrogant rogue who’d gotten his gang killed, but Louisoix knew what it had all been for. One day the Upright Thieves would stand tall again.

“No, none of that.” Louisoix pocketed his bells, and came forward to rest his hand on Thancred’s bowed head. “Perhaps I will simply say … never stop. Never hesitate. Never look back.” He thought back to the end of their duel, and imparted a bit of strategic advice: “And always be a moving target.”

E-Sumi-Yan lowered the old book as he reached the end of the passage. His students -- orphans and foundlings whom he’d helped raise since they were smaller than him, all of whom (even Nanayepi!) would now stand taller than if they weren’t kneeling respectfully -- waited in silence.

“For a time,” the head of the Conjurer Guild said, “this chapter of I-Ohok-Pota’s tale was censored from common texts, as it was believed to cast the Padjal in a dishonorable light. With it’s unearthing came much questioning of Stillglade Fane and the nature of the Light that powers our White Magic. Quite recently, there were even fears that the white mages could be corrupted and turned to monsters. It was within my lifetime, certainly.” He paused. “Perhaps not so recently, then.”

A gentle murmur of laughter trickled through the crowd. E-Sumi-Yan turned suddenly, picking someone from the crowd. “K'selh? Your thoughts?”

K'selh jumped at being so suddenly addressed. “I-- I--”

E-Sumi-Yan beckoned encouragingly. “Please be honest, K'selh. This is a safe space.”

“I … it’s only, stories like that.” K'selh paused. “They really make me question if I’m cut out to be a conjurer! I could never make a choice like that! I … I don’t mean to seem ungrateful to the Guild or the Elementals….”

E-Sumi-Yan nodded. “I understand. Of course, none of you are beholden to the Guild. We offer you this training to help you find your place in the world, not to trap you within the walls of the Fane, or the Shroud. If the conjurer’s path does not speak to you, it would be unwise to embark upon it.” He paused.

“I cannot lie,” he said, haltingly, his seemingly-boyish voice slower and darker than usual. “Such choices come often to our ilk. But we must remember that our lives are given in service to the Light and the common good. Sometimes we must let one perish in order to save the rest.” His eyes closed, and he looked very much like a child. “We do what we must, because there is no one else to do it for us.”

The pause stretched. Attempting to shake the darkness away, E-Sumi-Yan looked up, and it was by sheer coincidence that his and Talia’s gazes locked.

Talia blinked, startled, but didn’t flinch away. Unlike some of her other instructors, E-Sumi-Yan didn’t try to force her to speak in class -- he had an uncanny knack for only calling upon those who felt a need to speak and simply needed encouragement. He seemed almost as startled as she, his silvery eyes briefly unfocused, lips parting on some unheard word.

And then he blinked and looked away. The moment, like so many others before it, passed without a word.

“The next passage begins when the last left off,” E-Sumi-Yan said. He lifted the book, and continued reading.

Minfilia says goodbye to the twins and Y’shtola at Mord Souq, before she, Urianger, Thancred, and the Warriors of Darkness go their own way. Alisaie gives her a would-be casual hug, trying to hide her worry; Alphinaud stops frowning thoughtfully at her long enough to force a timid smile and wish her luck.

Y’shtola stands a bit aside, in a little pocket of shadow, blind eyes peering thoughtfully into the endless light. She beckons Minfilia closer, apart from the others.

“And have you made your choice?” Y’shtola asks, without preamble.

Minfilia glances aside, picking at a seam of her gloves. “I -- I … almost.”

Y’shtola’s eyes narrow, her expression fierce as the wind whips her hair too and fro. Minfilia says nothing more. On one hand, the urge to babble is strong -- to let all the uncertainty and agony come pouring out, to desperately hope that someone, anyone, will talk her out of her fate. On the other hand, she can already feel her chin wobbling, and knows if she says anything more she’ll start to cry.

“I see.” Y’shtola straightens. “Minfilia,” she starts, and then hesitates, brow furrowing. “No, that’s not ... I wish we knew your birth name, but I suppose it’s too late for that. And Minfilia is a good name. One you have certainly been worthy of.” She nods, decisive. “Minfilia.”

Minfilia takes a careful breath, only a little sniffle-y, and comes to attention.

“Whatever choice you make, make it with all your heart. Whatever doubts assail you, hold onto your decision with all your strength. I believe there is no end to the things you can do, if only you persist in the doing them.” Blind eyes bore into hers, seeming to peer into her small, unworthy soul. “Do you understand?”

Minfilia blinks back her tears, and tries for a smile. “Yes, Master Matoya.”

Y’shtola flinches and averts her face, suddenly sorrowful. But there’s no time to apologize; Minfilia’s destiny awaits.

“But what about you?” Minfilia cries.

Thancred unhooks his gunblade. “Keep moving,” he orders her. “Keep your eyes on your target, and let nothing stop you. No matter what you hear behind you.” He hesitates, head bowing, and for a moment Minfilia thinks she might see her noble knight weep.

He turns away, voice gone choked. “And don’t look back.”

The air is quiet and hushed, where Minfilia -- the real Minfilia, not a pretender like her -- stopped the Flood and saved them all. “Whatever happens,” Minfilia whispers to Tally and Vahn, “you mustn't interfere.”

Vahn is plainly heartbroken, expression ravaged, but he nods. It’s Tally whose brow crumples in fierce anger, who kneels and pulls her into a hug. Hard enough to hurt. Minfilia’s composure, which has carried her through so much, falters and breaks at last. For just a moment, Minfilia hides her face in Tally’s white robes -- soft white, not cold and bright like the Light that surrounds them, comfortable and worn -- and searches for the determination and cunning Y’shtola and Thancred told her she had.

My friends, comes the Oracle’s voice, the Word of the Mother, like music. Minfilia gasps, struck by the familiar melody, and turns to find Minfilia -- the real Minfilia -- descending from the air to alight on the ground. She is barefoot and smiling, and it hurts to look at her, for all that she is less bright than everything else around her. Her terrible, shining eyes linger on Tally and Vahn for a long, long moment, her lips curving in a sad smile.

“I knew I could count on you,” the Oracle says to them. And then, at last, she directs her attention to her heir. She holds out her hands.

And Minfilia -- Minfilia steps forward, timid at first, and then with greater assurance -- she rushes forward to meet her, laughing in her amazement -- they are so similar! as if Minfilia was her mother in truth, and not just in her imaginings -- and for the first time Minfilia thinks she might be able to be brave, to go out into the world and be unafraid. And she knows she has made her choice at last.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2021 #y'shtola rhul #thancred waters #wol:talia #wol:j'vahn #minfilia #ryne #i have a lot of feelings about master matoya and y'shtola #and louisoix and thancred #and ryne and her family #my fic

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