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gospelofme · 3 years

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Clone Dads and the Weird/Creepy Things Their Kids Say.

Clone x female reader

It was late at night and Kix was driving back to his in-laws. You and kids were asleep, having tuckered themselves out at the lake. The road was quiet, his in-laws lived out in the middle of nowhere. Forest and farm fields on either side.

They passed an old, abandoned house and he glanced at the mirror and could see his youngest daughter, Louise (named after his mother-in-law), waving out the window.

“What are you waving at baby?”

“The clown that was in there.”

“......oh.” Kix made a mental note to never go down this road again.

————

Sipping his second cup of caf, Wolffe walked by the kitchen table, his 6 year old daughter Mira was hard at work on a drawing. He watched her coloring and looked at the drawing.

“Who’s that?” He asked.

“That’s me in my bed!” She replied, looking for another color.

“And who’s that?” He asked, pointing at a man she had drawn. Thinking maybe she’d say him.

“That’s the man that watches me while I sleep.” She said this in the most casual, unconcerned way ever.

“........who?” Wolffe frowned, trying to keep his voice unconcerned.

“He watches me from the closet. Sometimes he gets really close to my face, but I just tell him to go away and he disappears.”

“Uh huh.”

Wolffe scanned all the security footage of the house, focusing intently on the cameras in his girls rooms. He had Mira’s room, Jailyn’s room, and Fern’s room displayed on the screen. No one else came in, besides just him or his wife checking on them. And nothing was ever near the closet. None of the security alarms had been tripped either or he’d have known it immediately.

You walked through the door with groceries, spotting your husband with an Arsenal laid out on the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Wolffe said causally, cleaning his blaster rifle, night vision scope attachment on the table. He spent the night sitting on the foot of Mira’s bed, armored and helmeted, with a blaster rifle on his lap just in case.

————

Fives looked up from his datapad, glancing at his son as he played on the family room floor.

“Here, some for you and some for me.” His son said, divvying up blocks.

“Who are you playing with buddy?”

“My friend Tevyn.” Darr replied.

“Oh, cool.” Fives didn’t understand imaginary friends, but you had said they were normal.

Later that day, he was walking with Darr on the way home from getting ice cream.

“Bye Tevyn!” Darr said, waving to the air.

“Where is he going bud?” Fives asked.

“Home.” Darr replied, pointing to the cemetery.

Later that night, you and Fives sat in bed scrolling through your datapads.

“He probably was pointing next to the cemetery.” You said, trying to sound reasonable. You kept scrolling through the register of those buried in that particular cemetery.

“To what?!” Fives asked incredulously.

“Sssshhhh!” You shushed him.

“The other half of the cemetery?!” Fives whispered with the same incredulous tone.

————

Kix was enjoying a quiet evening with Wolffe, drinking beer and watching a bolo ball match. He looked over at his wife, you were gabbing away with Wolffe’s wife about some crazy police case.

Five of the kids were sitting around the kitchen table playing a game (Jenga). Kix’s newest daughter, Louise, was busy suckling at her mother’s breast.

“I’m glad the kids are getting along.” Kix said during a commercial break.

“Yeah, I was worried my girls would convince Kaia to gang up on Jesse.” Wolffe nodded.

“Oh there’s still time for that.” Kix shrugged.

“Why are celebrities so famous?” Kaia asked at the table. Fern suddenly slammed her hands on the table,

“BECAUSE THE ILLUMINATI!! THAT’S WHY!!” She declared. Kaia considered this and nodded.

“Yes, that makes sense.” She agreed.

Wolffe and Kix looked at each other, then at their wives who shrugged.

“We have no idea where she picked that up. I suspect it was Hardcase, but he has so far denied it.” Wolffe said, popping a snack in his mouth.

————

“So I heard your friend was in the hospital. Is he okay?” Jesse asked his son over dinner.

“Yeah, he had to have surgery.” The boy replied, poking at his carrots.

“Oh, why?” You asked, pausing from making a funny face to get your other son to eat his food.

“I think it’s because he swallowed chewing gum and it got stuck in his heart or something.” Your son replied.

“Um, honey I don’t think-“ you were about to reply when the baby suddenly spit his food out all over your face and lekku. Your husband and son bursted into laughter.

“What the?!” You muttered, looking at Jesse. The baby laughed while watching his father laugh.

“Sorry babe, I was trying to make faces at him to get him to open his mouth for you and...I guess he found it too funny.”

————

Rex walked by his sons room where they had been playing with dolls he had brought them from a deployment. They seemed to be discussing something but they were talking too quietly. He didn’t want to spy, so he shrugged and let them go about their playtime.

He walked passed again just in time to hear his 5 year old declare,

“The holonet is a liar!! Babies don’t come from there!! It’s when mommy and daddy are really happy! Not a bunch of worms eating a bouncy ball!!”

“What?” His 7 year old replied, sounding baffled.

Rex hurried back into the living room where you were relaxing with a glass of wine.

“Hey hon, um....I think Gregor saw more than we had thought...”

“Motherffu-“

“Mommy! Can you tell me where I came from!!” Gregor yelled as he marched into the room.

————

Cody didn’t have children yet. But he and his wife were discussing the possibility. They often babysat the kids of the other soldiers for practice. He would’ve thought they’d be apprehensive, but they all quickly took him up on the offer.

That made him a little uncomfortable, but he was up to the challenge. One evening he had offered to watch Wolffe’s girls while he and his wife went out on a date. It was rare that Wolffe asked him to watch his kids, but Cody had passed the rigorous questionnaire and interview. He felt like he had leveled up then.

“We’ll be back at 11pm, make sure they’re in bed by 8pm please.” You said as Wolffe ushered you out the door, giving your rear a playful slap.

“Thanks again Cody.” Wolffe said, smiling. But his eyes held that deep threat that said, I’ll skin you alive and wear you as a robe if anything happens to my babies. Cody believed it too.

His wife arrived a little while later to help after she got off work.

“Wow!! Your eyes are so pretty!!” Mira said, grabbing your face.

“Oh! Haha, thank you.” You replied, not used to having a small child staring so intently into your eyes.

“I want to wear them on my charm bracelet.” She whispered. You tried to make the smile on your face not look freaked out.

“Oh, heh heh...well, um...thanks?” You replied.

“You’re welcome!” Mira said happily, bounding away to go play with her sisters.

You and Cody shared a look.

“Maybe it’s because Wolffe has a cybernetic eye?” You offered. Cody didn’t reply.

Later, after the girls were fed, you watched Cody play a video game with them. The dancing program tracked their movements, requiring that they perform dance moves well enough to earn points. You giggled as they all tried to mess each other up. Cody was better with kids than he thought, you realized.

Eventually the girls were tucked into bed and asleep, you and your husband relaxed on the sofa and waited for Wolffe and his wife to come home.

“I want kids more now!” You said, giving Cody a kiss.

“Oh? Want to practice making them later?” Cody asked. You giggled.

“Only if you shake your butt like you did earlier!”

————

Rex walked into the house, removing his helmet with a sigh. He could hear the kids playing and giggling down the hall in the family room. He placed the helmet on a table by the entrance to the family room.

“Daddy’s home!!” You announced, standing up and falling dramatically into your husbands arms.

“Oh honey, it’s been so tiring all day. I’ve been promoted to Queen so I’ve had to Knight all the toys.” You said regally. Rex laughing.

“And behead some!!” Orvin said, you nodded.

“Oh, well can I kiss the Queen?”

“Ooooohhh, you may!” You replied, accepting a kiss from your armored Knight.

“Ewww, mom move so I can hug dad!” Orvin said, squeezing between you two. Rex picked up his oldest son easily, but still acted like it was a challenge.

“Oh!! Gregor, come tell Daddy what you have on your face!” You called, suppressing a giggle. Rex gave you a confused look as his youngest son came running up. He had his fingers held under his chin, dangling and wiggling them. Rex picked up Gregor as well, one kid on each hip.

“What’s that supposed to be?” He asked with an amused smile.

“A beard of testicles!!!!”

“A beard...of....of what?”

“Testicles daddy!!!” Gregor wiggled his fingers more noticeably. He heard you snort with laughter. It clicked.

“Tentacles kiddo! Tentacles!!” Rex clarified.

“Yeah!!! Testicles!!!” Gregor repeated.

“Well, we’ll work on that pronunciation.”

Tag list

@simping-for-fives @jgvfhl @carlycrays @nelba

@leias-left-hair-bun @baby-queen-zen @halzore

@porgnugget @escapedthesarlacc

#star wars #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clone troopers #clone trooper x reader #Captain Rex #commander wolffe #commander cody #clone trooper fives #arc trooper fives #clone trooper jesse #arc trooper jesse #funny fic #clone dads and the creepy/weird things their kids say

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years

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Yeah, so I read your HP headcanons/analysis and I found it really well put. I was wondering about your thoughts on Dumbledore and who he really was as a person. (It’s okay if you don’t really want to reply :> )

We’re just getting all up into The Carnivorous Muffin headcanon land, aren’t we?

Well, this one’s probably obvious to anyone who reads my work.

I fall on the manipulative Dumbledore side of things and then some. Dumbledore is not only a bastard man but is a raging misogynist and extremely classist (which is funny because I don’t see too many people calling him out for those last two when to me canon all but shouts it at you).

Basically, what it comes down to, is even taken in very good faith I simply cannot read Dumbledore’s actions as benign in pretty much every single goddamn decision he makes ever.

God, where do I even start here? I guess we can go chronologically.

Well, there was Dumbledore’s Wizard Nazi youth with an oddly Dorian Gray flare to it with Gellert. I think it’s fairly obvious why Dumbledore’s not exactly... good there so I’m going to skip past it. Suffice to say, it took his sister’s death (and maybe murdering his own invalid sister) for Dumbledore to stop planning world domination. Even then it wasn’t so much that world domination was wrong, but because his sister died and he was an asshole.

I’m going to go ahead and include CoG and Fantastic Beasts because I can (CoG, while a terrible movie, actually does entertain me in many ways). Anyways, before the films came out I always considered the younger Dumbledore far more stoic and brooding. He doesn’t get his eccentric persona until after the defeat of Grindelwald and was before then angsty mcangsts and an academic at heart.

Well, per CoG, apparently he was a budding spy master long before defeating Gellert/Voldemort popped up. We see him manipulating Newt, sending him to Paris as his own agent, WHEN NEWT DOESN’T WANT TO GO AND HAS ACKNOWLEDGED THAT DUMBLEDORE USED HIM INTHE LAST FILM. Dumbledore writes off having used Newt for his own agenda with a charming smile but none the less it paints a pretty grim picture that Albus has always been... Albus. There has always been a greater good out there somewhere and the man is always using someone as a pawn.

Cut to canon and his treatment of Tom Riddle. Frankly, Dumbledore’s treatment of the young Tom Riddle, and even Tom Riddle just before he came Voldemort, is insane. The thought experiment I like to run is “replace Tom in those scenes with Harry Potter”.

Harry was a poor orphan, whose guardians would more than match what Mrs. Cole said about Tom Riddle, who had spurts of accidental magic now and then and enjoyed when his bully cousin was discomfitted. Now, imagine Dumbledore giving Harry his letter, and then pretending to light all of Harry’s possessions on fire to “teach him a lesson”. What the fuck?

Now, am I saying Tom Riddle wasn’t creepy here and that killing a rabbit was terrible. No. But I am saying Dumbledore had a horrible reaction to it and is proud of it years later. (Also, the fact that he uses this memory to convince Harry of how evil Tom is, is hilarious to me. Dumbledore, you were the shit that lit people’s wardrobes on fire. If I was Tom, I’d be upset too).

Dumbledore is always like this with Tom Riddle. He thinks the worst of Tom even in points where Tom hasn’t done anything. I’m not talking about later when, yes, Tom did live up to Dumbledore’s fears but when Dumbledore treats him like garbage and actively sabotaged Tom’s career.

Anyways, cut to later when the Marauders are in school. One of the big things is that Dumbledore puts up a guerilla resistance gang OF SCHOOL CHILDREN. While most members are older, James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Peter are all only just out of Hogwarts. “Well,” you say, “It’s their choice and they did graduate. Surely Dumbledore wasn’t actually recruiting school children.” I point you towards canon, where Dumbledore convinces three actual school children that the fate of the nation rests on their shoulders and to go fight the good fight. So yes, Dumbledore canonically uses child soldiers and has no regret for doing so.

The other is letting James and Sirius off the hook for the Lupin incident. While Dumbledore talks the talk this showed that he was not willing to walk the walk. True, while getting them into major trouble would have involved outing Lupin (who was innocent in all of this) at the same time they were nearly responsible for the murder of another student. It’s very convenient that Dumbledore lets off the rich son of a lord, two individuals who later end up in the resistance movement (Potter likely funding part of it), and tells the impoverished half blood to sit down and shut up.

And in canon, yes, I believe that Dumbledore absolutely knew what Harry’s home condition was like. While the blood wards are an excuse they aren’t a particularly good one as for most of Harry’s childhood the Death Eaters were all accounted for. Harry was in no extreme danger from them. To not have had an inkling of Harry’s home life (when Harry even hints at it when wanting to stay over the summer, Harry runs away from home in third year, Fred and George see the bars on the window, and he even visits Harry’s home in sixth year) would be such laughable incompetence and stupidity it’s right out.

With that, I absolutely do believe what Snape showed us in the memory, the Dumbledore behind the scenes as it were. That Dumbledore knew fairly early that Harry Potter was a horcrux and began grooming Harry for suicide. Specifically, that’s what sixth year really is. All those memories of Tom Riddle, the pretext to get some memory from Slughorn, it’s an excuse for a smear campaign designed to convince Harry that Tom Riddle is inherently evil and must die at all costs, even Harry’s own life.

Dumbledore didn’t need that Slughorn memory. Sure, it was useful to know Tom intended to make seven but think about it. How did Dumbledore know there’d be anything remotely useful in there? He doesn’t know that Tom actually drops a number on Slughorn. Even then, he doesn’t know whether Tom actually goes and does it. All of it felt like, “Harry, I have a super secret important mission that only YOU can do. Can you handle it, Harry? Because without this the country is surely doomed” And in that I mean it was an effort to win back Harry’s favor after the previous year meltdown, keep him busy, and start in on the excuse to show Harry some pretty damn innocuous memories of Tom Riddle and go, “See, HE IS EVIL!”

Due to this, I frankly think that the train scene was a hallucination on Harry’s part. Wishful thinking for some gentle explanation of how Dumbledore had not cruelly used him for years and intended his death.

Well, that and it never made much sense that Dumbledore could predict Harry’s a) becoming the master of death b) miraculous second resurrection.

In the first case, Harry becomes master of death because of wand lore bullshit and happenstance where Harry happens to save Draco’s life. Dumbledore had no idea such a thing would happen. Dumbledore’s plan was for there to be no master of death, as the wand would default to having no owner when Snape defeated Dumbledore on Dumbledore’s orders. That Draco got the wand is a sort of Deus ex Machina. Sorry guys, Dumbledore intended Harry to die.

More, even then, while Dumbledore was very into the occult of these things we leave canon without any idea if these things are even responsible for his resurrection. They’re just relatively nifty objects with a legend behind them. There was nothing concrete to suggest that, should Harry happen to get all of them, he would be able to rise from the dead.

Otherwise onto the misogyny and classism parts.

In terms of misogyny this is from every time Dumbledore talks about Lily Evans or Merope Gaunt. In the case of Lily, she’s this weird Madonna figure whose love for Harry was so powerful it saved his life. That she also happened to make these blood wards Dumbledore cannot reproduce and extended her protection to Harry wherever he went is irrelevant. It’s her love that counts. That feminine, maternal, love purer than all others.

Basically, Dumbledore seems to be of the belief that women are flowers. The best of women are these demure, selfless, brave women who sacrifice themselves for their children. Yikes, Dumbledore.

Merope’s the really bad one though. Merope’s tale is how she drugged and raped a defenseless muggle for months and then he escaped. Dumbledore spins it into this Victorian tale of woe where Tom Riddle Sr. THE KIDNAPPED RAPE VICTIM is the asshole here who abandoned Merope to the merciless cold world. How dare he.

It’s very clear that Dumbledore doesn’t see Merope, or women in general, as people. Instead these weird Victorian ideals who can be tragic victims of circumstance.

As for the classism.

While Dumbledore’s very against the pureblood culture we see in the Malfoys a lot of his treatment of Tom Riddle feels very... classist. The big one, which is a little tangential but I say it counts, is Dumbledore’s theory that children of rape are incapable of love. Granted, he’s saying this while convincing Harry to kill himself for the good of the cause and there is a real world parallel in that alcohol/drugs while pregnant is a very bad idea that can lead to extreme mental and physical health disorders. That said, we’re talking love potions at conception, and it always read more as “rape babies” vs. specific drugs. And that is... just yikes on so many levels.

Now, do I agree with manipulative Dumbledore we see in many fics? No, because Dumbledore’s not that stupid.

He doesn’t need to borrow money from Harry’s vault, he doesn’t need to pay off Hermione and Ron to be Harry’s friends, he doesn’t need to choose Harry’s friends for him, he doesn’t need to manipulate Harry’s memories directly. He doesn’t need to do any of this because he got what he wanted just fine in canon.

Dumbledore is one of the smartest characters in canon, far smarter than Harry, and he doesn’t have to stoop to such outrageous schemes to get what he wants. Poorly concealed smear campaigns convincing Harry to commit suicide are more than enough.

#ask #anon #headcanons #albus dumbledore #manipulative dumbledore #dumbledore is pretty damn evil guys #as in there is pretty much not a single action you can point to where i'll say it was reasonable and not in some way underhanded #except maybe his choice in wardrobe #the man has some elton john style

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lu-undy · 4 years

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Chapter 27 - SBT

Here it is!

"Your performance tonight was absolutely baffling, Lulu!"

The Frenchman raised his eyes from his glass of wine to the criminal facing him, the reason why that whole song had made sense; namely, Arthur Duchemin.

"Many thanks."

"You have talent for this and much more than the younger generation and their nonsensical noise they dare call music."

Lucien was still in the emotion of the song he had just sung, a bit like when you watch a movie and the taste of it lingers on even after it ends. He had sung his heart and soul out to an audience that couldn't possibly imagine what it had meant for him.

He had sung about the solitude that Duchemin had forced him into for years, and this feeling of his body being an empty shell. He was missing his half, or maybe his three-quarters. He had been missing the presence of someone who could make him feel. Feel what? Anything, absolutely anything besides rage, frustration and distress. He didn't know what it felt anymore to have someone's eyes on him with that special flame, that unique spark that made him look handsome when he only saw himself old and grey.

Duchemin had applauded him and asked for him to enjoy his dinner in his company.

"So, what will you have? I tried the beef stew last time and it was quite the surprise, a good one." The calm devil said.

Lucien couldn't eat. Not only was Duchemin going to pay for his food, which was an idea he could not stand, but the song had emptied him. He needed warmth. He needed something to replenish his emotional and social energy. He raised his eyes off the menu and thought to himself. Non. He would not eat a thing. Duchemin can keep his blood covered money; money he got from killing people, from stealing people away from Lucien. Non, it disgusted him.

"If you'll excuse me, tonight's show has emptied me of my energy. I shall take my leave." The spy politely said as he folded the menu shut and put it back on the table.

"Oh, but of course, I understand. Pray do take some well earned rest. And I hope to see more of these performances in the future."

"I will make sure you do, many thanks and have a good evening."

Lucien took his leave and headed straight back home on his black, slim motorcycle. When he reached his door on the fifth floor of the hotel, he saw another tupperware box waiting for him. He picked it up from the floor and unlocked his door. As soon as he pushed it open-

"Meow!"

The little ball of white fluff jumped on his ankle and climbed all along his body to reach his shoulder.

"Oh… Mon bébé…"

[Oh… My baby…]

Lucien took Perle in his gloved hands and hugged her dearly.

"Laisse-moi juste prendre une douche et je suis à toi, d'accord?"

[Let me just take a shower and I will be all yours, agreed?]

She purred and mewled, delighted that her master had come back home. Lucien did what he said and a few moments later, he was in his bed, laying on his back with little Perle on his chest.

"Meow?"

He was petting her, letting his fingers run through her fur.

"Oui, maintenant ça va."

[Yes, now I am alright.]

"Meow?"

She rolled herself in a little ball before laying down on Lucien's chest, raising and falling to the rhythm of his breath.

"C'est la chanson que j'ai chantée aujourd'hui."

[It's the song I sang today.]

He admitted as he sighed. Perle listened to him vent while purring under his naked fingers.

"Perle?"

"Meow?"

"Promets-moi de rester avec moi, s'il te plaît. Ne m'abandonne pas."

[Promise me to stay with me, please. Don't ever abandon me.]

He raised her to his lips and kissed her.

"Meow." She promised.

"Je ne suis pas un homme bon, je ne sais pas élever un enfant seul. Mais je n'en peux plus de rester seul. Depuis que tu es rentré dans ma vie, je… Je me sens tellement mieux. J'ai quelqu'un qui m'attend quand je rentre à la maison, quelqu'un qui certes, peut me mordre de temps à autres mais quelqu'un qui m'aime bien, je crois."

[I am not a good man, and I don't know how to raise a child on my own. But I cannot stand to stay alone anymore. Since you have come into my life, I… I feel much better. I have someone to come back to when I come back home. Yes, it is someone who bites me from time to time, but it is someone who likes me, I believe."

Perle brushed her head on his mouth repeatedly as she mewled her comfort and support to Lucien. As much as he promised that he wouldn't abandon her, she wouldn't abandon him. Non, he was her everything, her father, her mother and her protector. She loved him.

On his side, Lucien started to think that he perhaps should have got a pet earlier. Maybe that would have helped although in truth, he still felt empty inside. Perle's purrs and fluff didn't do everything. Sometimes and paradoxically enough, it even made him feel worse. The moments where he was raising her, where he was explaining the world around her to her big blue eyes, those were hard moments. It reminded him of his short time as a father, too short.

"Meow?"

"Oui, j'ai eu un bébé avant toi."

[Yes, I have had a baby before you.]

Lucien stared at the ceiling.

"Meow?"

"Non, pas un chaton. Un bébé - mon bébé, ma chair et mon sang. C'était un petit garçon."

[No, not a kitten. A baby - my baby, my own flesh and blood. It was a little boy.]

Perle purred louder and louder, her whole little body was trembling.

"Cela fait dix ans que je ne l'ai pas vu, que je ne peux pas le voir. Il avait une dizaine d'année quand je l'ai vu pour la dernière fois, lui et sa mère."

[It has been ten years that I haven't seen him, that I couldn't see him. He was ten years old when I saw him last, him and his mother.]

Perle listened as she nibbled on Lucien's index finger.

"Meow."

He smiled.

"Oui, maintenant je t'ai toi. Tu es tout ce qui me reste."

[Yes, now I have you. You are all I have left.]

Lucien sat up against the wall on his bed and hugged his furry companion.

"Meow…"

She seemed to say that he was exactly that for her too. If not for him, she would have died of fear, cold and malnutrition in the dirty streets of this Australian town. Lucien held the little cat to his lips. He whispered through her fur.

"Je te quitterai pas. Je ne t'abandonnerai pas. J'ai déjà perdu un enfant et c'est plus ce que je ne peux supporter. Non, mon bébé, quand j'en aurai fini avec Duchemin, on s'en ira, toi et moi, quelque part de calme, de tranquille, loin de tout. Ça te va?"

[I won't leave you. I won't abandon you. I have already lost a child and it is more than what I can bear. No, my baby, when I am done with Duchemin, we will leave, you and me, somewhere calm, far from everything. Would you agree to that?]

And of course Perle agreed in mewls and in purs. The poor baby couldn't dream of a better life, just her, and her human father.

On these thoughts, Lucien sank back to lie on his bed, Perle curled on his pillow, right next to his face. He whispered soft stories to put her to sleep and ended up falling in Morpheus's arms first, his senses dulled by her purrs.

"Dad? You're home? Oh!"

Lucien smiled. He had come home a bit early that day and wanted to surprise his son. As the boy opened the door, he saw his father on his armchair, reading a magazine.

"Oui, mon fils."

[Yes, son.]

The little blond boy with buck teeth ran to his father, letting his backpack drop to the floor and crashed on his father's legs. Lucien crouched down to be at eye-level with his little boy and hugged him dearly.

"Oh, what is this plaster, Jérémy? Don't tell me you got in a fight again…" Lucien put his index on his son's cheek. Jérémy lowered his head.

"But they were saying bad things about you and Ma'..." The young boy said, his head lowered still.

"I told you." Lucien put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Your classmates will not stop until you show them that you don't care about what they say. As long as they get a reaction off of you, they will continue."

"Your dad is right, Jay." Jérémy's mother entered the house and shut the door after her son and herself. "You should try his advice, sweetie."

"But it's hard!" The young boy protested.

"Nothing comes easy, mon petit." Lucien gave a kiss on his son's brow. "Now, come, would you like something to eat perhaps?"

[My little one]

Both men went to the kitchen hand in hand, under the lady's kind eyes.

"Dad, can you make me one of your omelettes for dinner tonight?"

Lucien carried his son and put him on the kitchen top.

"I think your mother has already prepared something for tonight, and I'm told it might be your favourite too."

"Really?" Little Jérémy's eyes shone brighter. They were blue, like both his parents, but not as light as his father.

"Hm-mh. But I will try to negotiate with her if you are really hungry, I can make a small one that we share, what do you say, hm?" Lucien extended his hand flat, palm up, and Jérémy slapped it.

"Yeah!"

"Right, you don't move from here, d'accord?"

[Alright?]

"Lucien?"

The Frenchman turned and his beautiful lady was there, by his side as he was sitting on the armchair.

"Oui?"

"D'you need anythin' darling? I'm out shopping."

"Non, nothing, mon amour."

[My love.]

"You sure?"

"Oh, maybe one thing."

The lady in the blue dress and matching headband looked at him.

"Come back fast for me." He added and she smiled.

"I'll do my best."

She grabbed her purse and went at the foot of the stairs.

"Jay, are you comin' with me, sweetie?"

"Comin', Ma'!"

The little boy came rushing down the stairs. Lucien watched as the young boy put on his jacket before grabbing his mother's hand.

"Aren't you both forgetting something?" Lucien asked from his armchair.

"Oh!" Jérémy let go of his mother's hand and went to kiss his father. His mother came right after and did the same but Lucien took her hand and pulled her in for a longer kiss.

"Ew! Dad!" Jérémy turned his back and winced while his parents' smiles grew wider. They broke the kiss and Lucien patted his son's head as he chuckled.

Mother and son exited the house and the Frenchman went to the window. He pushed the thin curtain aside with the tip of his fingers to see his lovely family on their way to the local supermarket.

But a black 4x4 came at the angle of the street at full speed, taking a turn that was so sudden that it sent it drifting on the asphalt, the rubber of the tyres squeaked.

"NON!"

Lucien saw it all before his eyes. The car drifting slowly as Jérémy and his mother were crossing the street. She scooped their son off the road but the vehicle collided with her and sent both of them flying, only to land metres away from the impact on the opposite side of the road.

The Frenchman ran to the street without his shoes, he sprinted to the end of the road and his fiancée on the pavement, a group of passer-bys had stopped and tried to help her while a police car rushed past, chasing the black 4x4.

"Marie! Mon amour! Jérémy! Call an ambulance!"

[Mary! My love! Jeremy!]

When he reached them, his knees were wobbling and the sight of them both unconscious made him collapse to the ground. He held her against his chest and pulled Jérémy to him. He sobbed and sobbed and when the ambulance finally came, he knew that there was no one to save. He didn't let go of either of them. He barked at the first aiders to leave them alone, he yelled and screamed in the street, like a rabid, helpless dog.

"Mon Dieu!"

"Meow!"

Lucien woke up and sat in a flash. He was sweating and panted to catch his breath. Perle had jumped in fright when he shouted himself out of his sleep.

"Meow?" She mewled and mewled, while he rubbed his eyes and tried to understand where he was, when, and why.

"Mon Dieu…"

[My God…]

He sat up, his back against the wall behind him and Perle climbed on his lap. As he rubbed his eyes, he realised his cheeks were wet. He had cried in his sleep. Again.

"Je pensais que ça s'était arrêté."

[I thought they had stopped.]

"Meow?" Perle asked.

"Les cauchemars."

[The nightmares.]

He answered and looked at the shut curtains in his bedroom. He could see the early morning light filter through the fibres of the fabric.

"Dors, mon bébé. Moi, je vais me lever."

[Sleep, my baby. I will get up.]

Lucien pulled himself out of his bed and went to the bathroom. It was only when he left the carpeted floor of his bedroom and walked on the tiles that he heard the tics of Perle's little claws on the floor. She did follow him.

She looked high up at him. He was a giant next to her, she barely reached his ankle. Lucien crouched down and scooped her off the floor.

"Merci, mon bébé."

[Thank you, my baby.]

He kissed her forehead and dropped her on his shoulder.

-- A few days later --

"Perle, le lait…"

[Perle, the milk…]

He said as he looked at her on the table next to his cup of coffee.

"Meow?"

"Tu t'en es encore mis partout, mon bébé."

[Your lips and cheeks are full of milk, my baby.]

He grabbed a paper tissue and she hissed as usual.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." He raised his eyebrows and his index finger. "Plus tu te plains, plus ça va durer longtemps."

[The more you complain, the longer it will last.]

"Meow…"

He wiped her face and let her fight with the paper tissue as he watched it all with a smile.

The doorbell rang.

Lucien went to get it.

"Oh, bonjour Bastien."

"Hey, L…" Bastien's eyes went down the mass of white fur climbing Lucien's side from his legs all the way up to his shoulder. "And hello Pearl."

As expected, the kitten hissed.

"I have some news for you, and a good number of letters…"

Lucien's eyes went down to the cardboard box that the young man was carrying.

"They come from the Queen Victoria. The manager had them sent here. Apparently, he didn't know where to put them!"

"Ah, merci." Lucien took the box from him. "Anything else?"

"Uh, just a word from Maurice, he asked me to tell you that you were on the right track."

Lucien half smiled.

"Of course, I am. Thank you Bastien."

"You're welcome. Take care, bye!"

Lucien shut the door and went to the sofa. He opened the cardboard box with his knife and took a peek in.

"Letters…?"

He emptied the box on his lap and put it next to him on the sofa, for Perle's greatest delight…

"What are all these?" He wondered as he flipped the envelopes to try and guess. He finally opened them, one after the other, while Perle found that cardboard box to be her second favourite place to be in, after Lucien's palms.

"Mon Dieu…"

As Lucien's eyes scanned the letters, he realised they were all from people who had come to the shows and enjoyed them. It was all from admirers. The more he read, the bigger his smile got on his face. Those letters were like Christmas for his ego!

Unsurprisingly all of them were written by women, and Lucien could smell their perfumes directly on the paper. He read them diagonally, their handwriting was smooth and round until one letter that did stand out.

The paper was cheap and it had been written with a biro, not a fountain pen. The handwriting wasn't smooth, words were crossed out on each line, showing the indecision, maybe the nervousness of the author. Lucien took the paper to his nose and smelt it. Coffee, cheap cigarettes. Oui, a man wrote that.

"Hello,

I am not used to writing to singers but I want to let you know that your last song did something to me. For a moment, I believed that I am not the only one suffering from my loneliness. I had the illusion that the misery I've lived through for the past ten years or so wasn't only my burden to carry. You made me believe that at least you too have lived something similar. Thank you for singing about solitude in a very raw and honest way, for putting words on things that I knew I felt, but did not know how to describe. And if it was only a show, if you haven't lived what you described, then you did an awfully good job at making me believe that you did. If it was all for show, then please understand that you're one hell of a lucky bastard."

Lucien's eyebrows jumped. Well, that is a way to end a letter…! His eyes when to the signature:

"M."

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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boarix · 3 years

Text

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XXI

Lost

Trigger Warnings: canon language/violence/gun, drug and alcohol use. Sexual/mature content. Burning/fire.

Please Enjoy!

……

“AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!” Strong’s roar of outrage carried far across the swamps south of West Roxbury Station. He pounded the earth, ripped up trees and threw them away like javelins. “RRRRAAAHHHHAAARRR! COWARD GHOUL, FACE STRONG!”

Terrified of him, Radiance had slipped into a narrow crag and instructed her few remaining ferals to abandon any attempts to attack and flee. There were two glowing ones left in the group and so their light had been what led the super mutant away. For several hours he doggedly pursued them: at first through the many twists and turns of the almost completely dark, rough-hewn tunnels and then on and through to the straight, derelict tiles of the metro tube.

Initially he made no attempt to calm himself. Reveling in his fury, he tore apart the landscape and yelled at the sky. He knew what the plan was: if separated or unsuccessful he was to rendezvous at the Peabody safehouse. He found that he didn’t much care. It wasn’t Alpha’s plan. It wasn’t even Cait’s.

He liked when his alpha went berserk. Her shear power and ruthlessness thrilled him and made him proud. But, he also very much liked the pups that were a part of their pack. Duncan, Shaun, Nat and even Billy Peabody tickled memories of something he couldn’t quite recall and the thought of Wraith hurting any of them, was unacceptable. Finding Wraith didn’t matter so long as Radiance lived and he very much wanted to be the one to kill her. Failure was also unacceptable, and having been around humans for long enough to gain a small sense of personal accountability, he was disappointed in himself.

Strong remembered MacCready telling him about the fight with the behemoth in the swamps around Murkwater, and decided that an epic battle of that nature would help improve his mood so he took up his hammer and slogged away south: looking for trouble.

……

Deacon fell up the basement stairs, bashing his shins and elbow in the process. His uncharacteristic clumsiness carried him through to the kitchen with a sharp countertop to the hip. He paused in the living room to take a couple of deep breaths before racing up the stairs to the room Hancock and MacCready were sleeping in.

He opened the door as quietly as possible before creeping to the bed. Hancock was furthest away and had his back to him. He was fully clothed apart from his hat and boots and was tucked into a fetal position. MacCready, on the other hand, was flat on his stomach, spread-eagle, shirtless, wearing pants and one sock. The young man’s face was tilted to the side, like a swimmer gaining air mid stroke. He had pushed his pillow onto the floor and was snoring and drooling directly onto the bed sheet.

Deacon picked up the pillow and raised it high above his head before swinging it down directly onto the sniper’s head, “WAKETHEFUCKUP!”

Both of them leaped to their feet with weapons at the ready. Hancock stood next to the bed and MacCready on top of it, “DEACON! Goddamnit! You gotta death wish?! You ASSHOLE!” Hancock hadn’t put his blade away when he came around to where Deacon was doubled over laughing. The ghoul dismissed the very satisfying image of stabbing him as soon as he noticed that the spy was also crying, “What? What the hell is going on?!”

MacCready was still standing on the bed, his fierce glare giving over to rapid blinking as he noticed the odd combination of emotion, “Is it Wraith? What’s…? Wraith?!”

“She said words at me!” Deacon nodded and pointed eagerly toward the basement, “To me. She said my…”

“Why is your hand bleeding?” MacCready saw the flash of crimson as Deacon gesticulated.

“Well, she uh, bit me too...”

“I keep telling everyone not to put their hands in the cage!” He scolded him as he pulled on a shirt and crammed his feet into his boots.

The three of them were loud enough to wake the whole household so there was a small amount of shoving when the group bottlenecked at the basement stairway. They thundered down the steps and crowded around Wraith’s cage. For her part she seemed to have once again lost all trace of sanity and was hissing and growling like a cornered alley cat.

“Deacon, if this is some sort of prank, it’s in very poor taste.”

“I swear, Danse. She said, ‘Deacon, don’t leave me’.”

“I told you I could be of help.” Infamy stepped from a shadow and lifted their hood to reveal a smug look on their luminescent face, “It’s just a matter of finding the cracks in the…”

Hancock didn’t let them finish. He seemed to fly across the room, and lifting the surprised glowing one up by his lapels, he pinned them to the foundation wall. When he spoke, his voice was a menacing growl and he punctuated his clipped words by slamming the other ghoul into the wall after each one, “You. Did. Not. Have. Permission.” He let them drop to the floor and he took a step back, flexing his hands.

“We never gave you the go-ahead.” Deacon felt he’d somehow been robbed, “Was that even her?” He was shaking as he advanced on them, “You put words in her mouth? DID YOU FUCK WITH HER MIND?!”

“That’s interesting, coming from you.” Danse’s comment was soft but it cut through the room like a knife.

“Later, son.” Hancock shot him a look that killed any rebuttal.

“You are all very excitable, aren’t you?” Atom’s Assassin pushed themselves up against the wall and into a sitting position, “Not very friendly. No, no. Hahaha!” They dipped their chin and held out their hands, palms up, “I meant no harm. I felt I needed to prove my worth. It’s a very nice cage you’ve made for her; very spacious. Much better than the one you brought her here in. Better than mine. Hahahahaha. Still a jail cell though, huh? How long do want to stand around her prison and watch her suffer? Wraith’s words are her own. It took a great deal just for that much. Quite the effort! You all should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you?! Why, monsieur, you are the cause of all this! Had you not attacked Madame’s citizens she would have never had cause to learn to call feral ghouls. She would have never summoned this Radiance and none of this would have happened!”

“She didn’t summon her.” When all their eyes flashed to him, Deacon waved a hand and shook his head, “Off topic, don’t worry about it. Doesn’t matter.”

“What matters to me is how you got out of your cage.” Piper glared down at them.

“Locks are nothing to me, my dear.”

“I think we should let them try.” Preston was watching Wraith. His face twisted between grief and anger.

“Non, General. Not at least until Dr. Amari has come to give her assessment. As her physician, I will not permit this.”

“Oh, but how will you stop me, sweet child?”

Curie lifted her chin slightly, her voice was as cold as the look in her eye, “I will have you shot if you dare.”

“Well, you are all very terrifying. Whatever happened to the Oath? Hippocrates is spinning in his tomb. Oh, nuts. This didn’t go very well, did it?” They started to rise but thought better of it in the face of seven pairs of glaring eyes, “As you wish. I won’t go poking around where I’m not invited. Do I have to go back to the cage?”

“It’s more than you deserve.” Danse was watching Wraith as she had decided to ignore the mob surrounding her and was remaking her blanket nest. He felt like crying, “Why should you be free when she isn’t?”

“Cage is up to you, but you’re livin’ in the shed until I say otherwise, you feel me?”

Infamy gave him a lecherous sneer, “I think I’d like to…”

As if it was choreographed, Deacon, Danse and MacCready, wearing identical expressions of grim resolution, unholstered their various sidearms and leveled them at Infamy.

“Fine! Fine. I know when I’m defeated. It is by Atom’s will, that I devour this slice of humble pie.” With hands raised above their head, they crept up the stairs and out to the shack.

Piper sat cross-legged on the floor next to the cage. She washed her face in her hands and groaned, “I’m so tired of them. I’m tired of hearing about them. I’m tired of their ghost-in-the-receiver voice...” She trailed off as one by one, four of the other six joined her on the floor. “I have so much work back-logged at home. And I don’t want to leave, but Shaun and Duncan are coming in soon, so I’m heading out in the morning.”

“Thanks for keeping a eye on my son, Pipes.”

She cast MacCready a sideways smile, “’Sokay. I like him better than you anyway.” Preston was to her left and she leaned over and set her head on his shoulder. She smiled again when he reciprocated, “When are you going back to the Castle?”

“Tomorrow. I’m making myself crazy watching her and we are having problems from the groups exiled out of Nuka World. The best I can do is to make sure everything she set up doesn’t come crashing down, just because she’s not here holding it up.”

“Literally.”

Preston smiled at Hancock, “Yeah, literally. Did I ever tell you all about the time when she threw a refrigerator at a Deathclaw?”

“What?!”

“Incredible!”

“No way!”

“Why a refrigerator?”

As Preston settled in to his tail, Deacon, who had remained standing, quietly headed back up to the main level. He intended to follow Infamy out to the shack and rough them up for eavesdropping on his heart-to-heart with Wraith, but his plans were altered for him as the unmistakably heavy footsteps of Danse followed him up the stairs.

“Something you need, pal?”

Danse gestured to the small living room, “I would like to have a word with you, if I may.”

Inwardly, Deacon growled in frustration, “You have a specific word in mind? I’ve always liked ‘spatula’.”

Danse looked confused for a second, “Very amusing…” He sat in an armchair and waited for Deacon to sit on a sofa across from him. He cleared his throat, “We haven’t spoken frankly to each other…”

“Don’t take it personal; I’m not frank with anyone.” He refrained from eye contact and picked idly at the raised floral pattern on the couch’s arm.

God, this thing’s ugly…

“I’m referring to matters of a personal nature that you may have been a party to…”

“Oh, I don’t really go to parties.”

The effort it took to maintain his composure clearly showed on Danse’s face, “By God, man! Please! I’m asking you for information about my being a synth!”

Deacon immediately stood and turned to leave, “Sorry can’t help you.”

Danse reached out and caught the other man’s sleeve. He looked up at him with light brown eyes that were so lost it nearly brought a tear to Deacon’s eye, “Please.”

He sighed dramatically and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Okay, but not here. Leave a note for Curie then follow me to Quincy. I’ll be waiting in the church.”

……

Deacon paced around in the nave, waiting. It seemed to be taking longer than it should and the spy was beginning to think he’d been stood up. Or, that something else might have happened with Wraith. He decided to head back and almost ran face first into Danse.

“I apologize for the wait,” the large man shook a Minutemen pack above his head as he maneuvered around him, “I talked to Curie directly and she advised I bring us a ‘snack’. She probably thinks we’re both too thin.”

Deacon had to bite back a harsh comment as he felt an intense stab of envy at the look of tender love on Danse’s face, “Yeah, I might have over corrected on my weight-loss plan.” In truth the weeks of worry and hard travel had ate into his muscle mass, leaving him more wiry then when he was in the Commonwealth last, “There fruit leather in there?”

Danse smiled as he passed him a strip, “Naturally.”

Rather than bite into it right away, Deacon held it almost lovingly in his hand. When his vision blurred with tears he quickly turned away from the other man and shoved the whole piece in his mouth, chewing noisily, “Mmmpf. Moorph. Hmmm. Thish batch is pretty good; lots of mutfruit. MacCready make it?”

Danse chuckled, “If there is a specific joke in there, I’m not aware.”

“Hmm. You’ve more a capacity for a sense of humor then I remember.”

Danse rightened a table and pulling up a nearby chair gestured for Deacon to take the one across from him, “As I said earlier; you and I have never had a real conversation.” He took a large bite out of jerky and leveled a rather intense gaze at him as he chewed, “I’ve been told that it can be difficult to authenticate a great deal of the information you share.”

“That’s maybe the prettiest way anyone’s ever called me a liar, Danse. Thank you.”

“I’ve also been told that you have a tendency toward more factual discourse when you aren’t wearing your sunglasses.”

Deacon briefly covered his eyes then pulled them away as if he was playing peek-a-boo, “The eyes tell lies as much as the truth, just so you’re aware.”

“So, it’s just another way for you to keep people guessing?”

“How very perceptive of you.”

The two men stared at each other unflinchingly for several seconds before Danse sighed and reached back into the pack for more food, “Do you want jerky?”

“Why not? You only live once.” He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, “I have to tell you this is not how I thought this was going to go. I also don’t mind telling you that I’m actually pretty tired so…”

“Right, right. Of course.” Danse set his hands together then held them out toward the spy as if he was asking him to set information in them, “Do you remember me as M7-97?”

“No. I wasn’t your handler.”

Danse’s eyes flashed back and forth, searching Deacon’s pale blue eyes for any sign that he was lying, “Are you quite certain? I’ve come to understand that my appearance was most likely altered.”

“It most likely was, but I never forget the synths that I’ve personally helped. And before you ask; no I don’t know who your handler was, or even if they’re still alive. The Railroad has had a high turnover. Probably because groups like the Brotherhood keep blowing us the fuck up.” He hadn’t meant to envenomate his reply to that severity, but found that he didn’t regret it.

“Ut sementem feceris, ita metes.”

“Post hoc ergo propter hoc.” Deacon was not going to back down, “We didn’t have to be your enemy. That was Maxson’s choice.”

Visibly upset, it took several deep breaths before Danse trusted himself to speak, “I wasn’t present during the attack on the Railroad. I had already been exiled. And even more so, I will admit, I did not approve of every order Maxson gave…”

“But you still followed them.” In Deacon’s mind he relived the moment when the light in Glory’s eyes went out, “My friends are still dead.”

“As are Rhys and Ingram and a multitude of others…”

“Others who turned their back on you when they found out you weren’t human.”

Danse slammed his hands on the table and stood, “YES! CORRECT! THOSE OTHERS!” He closed his eyes and swallowed, “I will never be able to take back the things I’ve said and done. I can only not forget and work toward making better choices.” He sat back in his chair and glared at Deacon.

The words struck a chord in him and Deacon suddenly felt ashamed, “That is something I can understand.”

“If I had my memories of being a synth, I’d have never joined the Brotherhood and we’d not be having this argument.”

“That was your choice.”

Danse twitched his head and narrowed his eyes, “What do you mean by that?”

“When the Railroad frees a synth we give them the option of a full memory erasure and face change, in fact we very strongly suggest it, but we never do it without their expressed consent.”

“You’re saying that I asked to have my identity stolen? My very life was ended and I asked you to do it?!”

“I’m not going to debate the concept of Nature Verses Nurture with you, but yes, you would have had to agree. We’ve had a bunch over the years who opted out of both but unfortunately, most were recaptured by the SRB or killed by hatemongering wastelanders.”

Like the UP Deathclaws.

Danse sat back in his chair, his expressions morphing from disbelief to anger and sadness. When he spoke his voice was low, “Why didn’t you at least give me memories of a family?”

“I could speculate but…”

“I would appreciate any insight you can provide.”

“Okay,” Deacon stood and began pacing, “so first, let’s get one or two things out in the open.” As he spoke he tallied items off on his fingers, “You’re not ageing. Your physicality is above average and… you’re… um… shooting blanks.”

Danse groaned and set his face in his hands, “I don’t even want to know how you ascertained that.”

Deacon had the decency to make himself look abashed, “Yeah, let’s move on. In my humble opinion as an expert in these matters; you were most likely a courser. It wasn’t necessary for you to fit in with the population at large so those items previously listed weren’t included in your design. And when you were given new memories, they wouldn’t involve people whom you would have tried to go look for because that would make you more conspicuous. If that makes sense.”

“So, I never even had a chance to have a family.”

“What do you mean by that?” Deacon let an edge creep into his voice, “What about the family you have now?” When Danse gave him a bewildered look, he grew legitimately angry, “Curie, Wraith, Shaun, Duncan!” He shook a finger toward the safe house, “Preston and Piper. Not to mention your ever-angry little brother MacCready.” He brought his hands up to either side of his head, “Hancock! Oh my god! The scariest being in the entire fucking Commonwealth calls you ‘son’, and you ‘don’t have a family’?! Fucking shit, man!”

“You’re scared of Hancock?”

“Never said that.” Deacon came back to his chair and sagged into it. “’Self-determination is not a malfunction’.”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s a quote from someone who could probably help you much better than I can. They were also a courser and were also upset when they found out their life wasn’t what they thought it was.”

“May I speak with them? Or, have they been… reset?”

Taking a bite of jerky, Deacon sat and thought out loud as he chewed, “Maybe only on the vaguest of terms. I could ask them to read a letter from you… have to be anonymous… would take some time… What information do you want?”

“I want to know what M7-97 was like… who they were. Anything you can offer me would be helpful.”

“Honestly, Danse I think it will only be helpful if this lets you move on from your past.” His voice grew soft and low, “We can’t always be living there.” He stood up and stretched, “Now, I need to shut down for a couple of hours…”

“I think I might need a beer… don’t you mean ‘sleep’?”

“Oh, I don’t actually do that.” He flashed Danse a shit-eating grin, “I’m a far superior model.”

……

There was some difficulty with moving the memory lounger to the basement and more still with its power supply, and so even after Dr. Amari’s arrival, it took several more days before they were able to try and scan Wraith’s mind. Curie’s tranquilizer was administered and she was carefully strapped in.

“Are the restraints really necessary?” Nick Valentine had arrived a few days before the doctor, and had been greatly distressed at seeing Wraith’s living arrangements. He frowned as Curie tightened the straps.

“They won’t hold her for more than a second anyway, Nicky.” Hancock was frowning as well and despite his words, he seemed unsure, “It’s to give us a chance to bail outta here if she decides to wake up early.”

“Would she really hurt us?” Valentine had been trying to convince himself that when she had rushed the cage bars when he tried to say “hello”, it was out of a response to fear and not wanton violence.

“She tried to kill me, Valentine.” MacCready’s voice was flat but his dark-circled eyes were sad.

“She must’ve pulled her punches a little. After all, you’re still very much alive and kicking. Though, from the looks of you, not as high.” He looked around critically, “Have any of you been eating properly?”

Hancock patted him on the back, “Yer a dad alright.”

“I don’t know about her holding back, but after I saved MacCready’s very life,” Deacon paused to smile at the sniper’s eye roll, “she responded to me. She even stopped trying to pull my head off.”

“It’s likely that due to the power armor, Wraith would have had no idea who MacCready was.” Danse smirked at Deacon, “Had she failed to give you a chance to speak, you’d likely be a headless corpse right now.”

“Hmm. Not sure that’d be a good look for me.”

“Gentlemen, we should be ready to begin.” Amari turned from Curie and smiled at the five men, “You can stay during the exam if you wish, but I ask that you refrain from any loud conversations.”

“She means arguing.”

“We know what she means, Deacon.”

“And there won’t be any arguing, cause yer gonna keep yer trap shut.”

……

Wraith was watching Glory. Beautiful, powerful Glory. The memory came into focus as her mind filled in details. They were fighting side by side in the Metro. Now they were sitting and talking at HQ. Now they were sharing a beer.

She was in an expanse of white nothingness. Prism like, the memory hung in midair as if it was suspended from an invisible celling by invisible rope. Wraith became aware that there were two others watching it with her.

Philippa was staring intently on one side. In her full Marine dress uniform, she was the very picture of military discipline and order. Her hair was tightly pulled back and up, held fast by a squad of hair pins under her cap.

The other confused Wraith and she narrowed her eyes, “You can’t be here.”

“That’s right; you’re dead.” Philippa was matter of fact, her eyes emotionless.

“If I’m dead then I can go and be anywhere I like, wouldn’t you say?” The dead woman didn’t look away from the memory, “You are in love with this woman.”

“Was. She’s dead. Like you.” Philippa corrected her.

“Probably not like me…”

“I’m not sure if I was in love. I was definitely interested, though.”

“The timing was inappropriate, Wraith.” There was a hint of disapproval in Philippa’s voice.

“Maybe. I wanted to try. I just…”

“Ran out of time.” Philippa finished the thought.

The memory changed. Now it was Deacon; fighting raiders in the rain. He was wearing a white t-shit and his muscles were clearly visible as they move underneath the wet, transparent cloth.

The dead woman hummed appreciatively, “Very nice. I don’t know this one either. You’re in love with him too.” She raised an eyebrow at Wraith, “Quite the harem you would have had.”

“How obtuse. Regardless, he’s not interested.”

“Don’t be stupid, Philippa.” Wraith rolled her eyes at her, “That’s not the problem.”

“Explain.”

“He doesn’t think he deserves to be loved. By anyone. So he… sabotages himself.”

“I’m bored. What else is on?” The dead woman twirled her index finger in the air like she was dialing a phone. When the memory changed to Hancock and Wraith in the midst of strip-tease foreplay, she hummed again, “Now this is something worth watching.”

“Inappropriate.”

“This… this is private…”

The dead woman leered, “My, he is hung nicely for being so tall and slender. And you,” She turned her lecherous gaze to Wraith, “how responsive you are! You can see how you savor his every caress. More!”

“No… get…”

The image changed again with a flick of the dead woman’s finger. Now it was MacCready and Hancock: in a flurry of motion as they passionately kissed while removing each other’s clothes.

“Fantastic. I can appreciate why your eyes would linger.” Her laugh was cruel, “Ha! So much to take in.”

“Not funny. Also, your intrusion is inappropriate.”

Wraith reached out, swatted the memory and as it spun each revolution showed a different memory in a confusing blur, “This isn’t a peep show. Those moments are special. What the fuck are you doing here?! You don’t belong. You’re not me!”

The dead woman pouted, “Aww, just when it was getting good. I want to see more of Hancock’s…”As she reached out to the memory Wraith smacked her hand. In turn the dead woman dealt Wraith a vicious backhand that sent her spinning away through the void. “Know your place!”

In an instant the memory and the two other women reoriented next to Wraith. She rubbed her jaw and slowly stood, “I’m going to kick your ass!”

The dead woman vanished.

“What the fuck?”

“You can’t keep me from him, you know. Hancock, that is.” The dead woman appeared at the very edge of Wraith’s vision then began circling her; like a shark that smells blood in the water. “I’ll have him.”

“I remember… you hurt him. Why?! Leave him alone. Why are you doing this? What do you want?!”

The dead woman’s face twisted into a mask of rage, “You dare ask me ‘why’?”

“It is reasonable.”

The dead woman ignored her. She stopped directly in front of Wraith and held up two fingers, “Twice you’ve destroyed me! You took all that I had; my only chances for happiness.” She folded her arms, a smug look on her face, “So now I’ll take all that you hold dear. Your empire will crumble and your people will die. Then when you are completely lost, you’ll come to my embrace willingly!”

“You’re just like Marie.” Now Philippa circled the dead woman, her modest heels somehow making a tapping sound that was immensely satisfying to Wraith’s ears, “You were never happy. Not in any recent years. You committed murder and engaged in other criminal acts; kidnapping for example. And much like Marie, you blame your loss and shortcomings on Wraith. It’s a classic case of projection.”

The dead woman’s eyes grew shrewd, “One major difference between us is that Marie is dead.”

Wraith paled and took a step back, “What? How…”

“Oh, I believe you know.” The dead woman reached out and spun the memory one more time, “Watch closely now, darling.”

The image of Wraith ripping Marie in half, from the vantage point of her own eyes, played over and over on the prism.

Wraith’s voice was weak, “No…”

“Yes! Look how strong you are. I have never wanted you more than at that moment!” The dead woman raised her arms above her head, exalted, “You are a monster, Wraith!” In a flash of blinding green light, the dead woman became Radiance, “But I am a much, much stronger one!” Grabbing ahold of Philippa, she enveloped her.

Wraith felt the pain as a part of her was being slowly consumed by fire. Her inhuman screams echoed throughout the void.

…..

“I SAID TURN IT OFF!” Hancock clenched and unclenched his fists; seconds away from smashing the memory lounger.

“Mr. Mayor, I am doing my very best to do just that.” Amari had begun shut-down procedures as soon as Wraith started screaming, “There!”

Wraith’s wail abruptly cut off and the ensuing silence was almost as defining. Then, everyone moved and spoke at once.

“Her pulse is stabilizing…”

“What happened?!”

“Oh, Madame! Oh, oh…”

“It sounded like… What was happening to her?”

MacCready and Hancock were each working on a wrist strap and as soon as she was free, Valentine scooped her up and took her back to her cage and laid her on the mattress, “Just what in the Sam Hill was that supposed to accomplish?!”

“I don’t understand these readings…” Amari was frowning at her terminal, “There is a film or some sort of interference. And an overlap of… there are images of two brains here.”

“What does that mean?” Danse was holding on to Curie as if she were a life raft.

“It means that I cannot get a proper reading of the condition of Wraith’s brain.”

“We just wasted so much time.” Deacon sagged into a chair and spoke into his hands.

Curie sniffled, “I am so very sorry. If I had…”

“It’s alright, Baby Bird. There’s no way you could’ve known.” Hancock joined Valentine in Wraith’s cage and he patted Curie’s back as he passed. Reaching down, he laid a hand on the detective’s shoulder, “I know you want to stay with her, Nicky, but it’s not safe.” He walked over to Deacon and stood tapping his foot until the spy looked up at him, “Yer getting yer way now.” Placing his hands on his thighs he bent down so his face was directly level with his, “I can’t hear her screamin’ like that though, you feel me?” If the ghoul still had a nose, it would have been touching Deacon’s, “I am trusting you.”

Deacon swallowed hard, “I… uh guess… I won’t live to you regretting it.”

……

They didn’t let Infamy try right away. The decision to wait after Wraith regained consciousness and had demonstrated at least the same level of functionality as pre brain scan was unanimous. Unfortunately for Valentine it also meant it was past the time he had allotted himself to be away from his immediate family.

As difficult as it was to leave Wraith, MacCready left with him, “I shouldn’t be away from Duncan this long.”

They decided to wait further until MacCready returned and there was a changing of the guard as Cait arrived with a Minutemen convoy. She spent some time trying to talk to Wraith, but after the initial aggression, she ignored her.

“I tried me best, but… How much should I tell Bear? I’m… not for knowin’.”

Outside of Hancock none of Wraith’s ghoul friends were allowed, for their own safety, to visit with her. And consequentially, Hancock wasn’t allowing himself to return to Goodneighbor for fear of bringing further harm to his people. He stayed in contact with Fahrenheit through Radio Freedom, and even had her hold his granddaughter near the microphone so he could hear her burble.

After a few days, MacCready passed Cait astride Gracie on the road, each offering a sad wave to the other. As he was walking through the door, he intended to shout a “hello”. Raising his head he took a deep intake of breath and collapsed, unconscious on the stoop. Deacon, dozing under a book on the couch in the living room, heard the thud and vaulted the furniture to get to him.

“Crap! Curie! HANCOCK!”

He had already started to come around by the time Hancock had picked him up and he batted at his arm as the ghoul was taking him up the stairs, “You can put me down. I’m fine.”

“No, I don’t think so. You are going to get some sleep and let Curie give you some fluids and eat some damn food and…”

Hancock left him to Curie’s care and came down to the kitchen. He muttered to himself as he started to heat up leftovers, “…what if ya fell on the road? Christ! …tryin’ to be all places at once… just alike… the two of ‘em are givin’ me fits! How am I supposed to… shit… fuck… goddamn it!”

“Uh, Hancock? Your shirt. Your shirt’s on fire, man!” Deacon grabbed a dishtowel, extinguished him then proceeded to roll up the mayor’s sleeves, “Not sure if MacCready likes to eat burnt ghoul…” He was surprised that Hancock let him help and it made him nervous for some reason. Especially since the ghoul didn’t say any sort of snappy comeback and just quietly watched with his large, dark eyes; a half smile on his scarred lips. He looked away quickly, angry that he almost blushed, “What?”

“Heh. Nothin’, brother. Thanks.” Deacon returned to the sofa and Hancock worked quietly for a minute before casually calling to him over his shoulder, “You know that floral-nightmare couch you’ve been tryin’ to sleep on jackknifes, right?”

“No?! I did not know that! Was anybody gonna tell me that?!”

…..

“I need total concentration. Complete silence. It would be ideal if you left us alone so I might focus…”

“Absolutely not. We cannot permit this treacherous villain to have any unsupervised contact with Wraith.” Danse stood with his hands on his hips and his chest out.

“Alright, Capt’n Eyebrows, take it easy,” Deacon was having a difficult time clearing the image of Danse in a cape from his mind, “we won’t. Just…”

“STRONG IS HOUND MASTER! BLUE HUMANS DON’T SHOOT!”

“Hey, Strong’s back!” MacCready went outside to bring the super mutant in, “Hey, buddy. Wow! You alright?”

Strong sported a fine collection of new scars and one of his eyes was swollen shut, “MACK REE DEE! STONG FOUND A GOOD FIGHT!��

Prompted by a look from Danse, who had followed him up the stairs, MacCready questioned the super mutant about his pursuit of Radiance, but Strong only shrugged and made an assortment of noncommittal grunts.

“We kinda assumed it went that way. She didn’t rough you up like that, did she?”

“No. Glowing one ran. SCARED OF STRONG!”

“Rightfully so. Excellent effort. Glad to have you back in one piece.” Danse was stiff and formal and the words were forced.

An awkward silence descended as the two stared at each other and was only broken when Strong sniffed somewhat disdainfully and muttered something about wanting to see his alpha.

“She’s downstairs, but,” MacCready touched his friend’s big green elbow, “she’s in a cage. It’s so… uh…”

“HA HA!” He smiled, “It’s okay, Mack Ree Dee; Alpha is strongest. Would hurt little humans. Strong would be…”

“Sad?”

The super mutant said nothing, only raised a hairless brow, turned, stomped down the stairs and over to Wraith’s cage. He stood there silently while she growled and threw herself at him. His brutish face softened somewhat and he lowered his voice to a whisper, “Alpha is the strongest.”

Infamy snapped their fingers, “You all trust this big green nasty, right?” The glowing one addressed Strong directly, “Radiance should try and retrieve Wraith. You’d like to rip her asunder, right? Ha! How long can you sit still and quiet, waiting for prey?”

Strong looked over their head to Hancock and MacCready, “What does this ghoul say? Strong stay here?”

“That’s up to you, brother.”

“I agree that Radiance is afraid of him.” Danse actually liked the idea, “She fled as soon as he charged her, despite having numerical superiority.”

“Then shouldn’t he be stationed outside where she can see him?” Deacon was considering using a Stealth Boy to sneak back into the basement regardless of the consensus and was worried that the super mutant might smell him and tattle.

“STRONG HUNGRY! WANT TO EAT MEAT!”

“I’ll hook you up, brother.” Hancock indicated that Strong should proceed him up the stairs before turning back to Infamy, “We’re gonna take shifts keeping an eye on you. I don’t give a flying fuck about what your ideal setup is. You’ll figure it out or I’ll take you apart.”

…..

“Now, this is interesting! Never quite had an experience like this before. Ha!”

“Great. Another unwelcome guest.”

“What’s the matter, Wraith? Not enough room for one more mind? Seems spacious to me. Hahaha!” Finally past the barrier, Infamy spun. They wore a set of clean, hooded, midnight blue vestments with a simple atomic diagram of hydrogen embroidered in gold thread across their back. Raising their arms and twirling in the white void, their robes billowed out behind them.

“You’re not the company I’m looking for.”

They dropped their arms and sagged their shoulders, “It’s so hard being so far from home in a place where no one likes you.”

“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?”

“That is becoming increasingly obscure, actually.” They frowned at her, “Admittedly, I should have done more research into Marie’s claims and less into where your weakness were to be found.”

“I helped the Children more than I hurt them.”

“Ah yes, but you did hurt us.” They grimaced at her, “You look like shit.”

“Hey! Fuck you too, you glowstick-looking motherfucker!”

“I would figure you’d look more like your version of normal. You’re still wearing that deathclaw armor. Hmm. You look worse in here then you do… Well, that is neither here nor there. What was all that yelling about?”

Wraith sat, cross legged on the non-existent floor, “Radiance was… flexing.”

The glowing one sat as well, “She comes and goes as she pleases then?”

Wraith half shook her head, “No, I don’t think she’s actually here. It’s more like she’s left a piece of herself here to watch me, but I’m a little fuzzy on the details.”

Infamy popped up and danced around her, “Drop the barrier then. Come out and play!”

Wraith tilted her head back and laughed; a humorless and unpleasant sound, “It’s not mine!” She suddenly stood and spun around much like Infamy had, “I’m a prisoner. Radiance both loves and hates me. She wants to keep me safe while simultaneously torturing me.” Wraith stood still and raised her fists, “I keep fighting her though. I’m starting to remember real stuff. When she went for Hancock I felt it. I felt him! And I remembered later.” Her eyes went wide and she took Infamy by the shoulders, “Hancock! How is he?!”

Although they felt a rush of fear, Infamy willed themselves not to pull away from her, “All of your rowdy, ungrateful, terrifying friends are fine. Sad to say.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” She let go and returned to the floor, drawing pictures with her finger in sand only she could see, “She wanted me to trigger detonations on the fusion cores, but I just ejected them. It took all the ground I had gained and I pretty much lost it after that.” She smiled sadly, “Except for Deacon. I remember Deacon. He told me he loves me.”

“Well, you can thank me for that! I’ve been chipping away at your crust for a while now. Now that I know it’s not yours, I can be a little harsher. Hmm, I think. Hahaha! Are there any rules for this game we’re playing? I’ll work from the outside and you’ll…”

“Why are you helping me all of the sudden?”

They adopted an indignant expression and put their hands on their hips, “I’ll have you know we do a great deal of charity work! Infamy is very altruistic.”

Wraith snorted, “Right. Just because you don’t charge for your services doesn’t magically change what you do into charitable works by any stretch of the concept.”

“Ha! Well, maybe it’s because you are a Child of Atom? The Mother’s Chosen One even.”

“Bullshit. Who was it that beat you up and made you help? Mac? Not Danse or Hancock; pretty sure they would have killed you outright.”

They stuck out their tongue, folded their arms and turned away, “I’m not admitting to anything.”

“Deacon. If he’s back then he’s the one. He’s an incredible fighter.”

“Yes, yes. As I said; all of your friends are terrifying.”

“But why help me and not Radiance?”

They dropped back to a sitting position and propped their chin up with their elbow, “I don’t think this creature is of Atom. I think she’s on her own, awful agenda. She’s probably going to interfere with my people. Might even send you to destroy us. Perhaps that’s what the Fog Mother meant by you being the Harbinger. As it is, many of our ghoul members have been suffering headaches and even Mother Isolde, a human, felt the pain of Radiance’s insidious intrusion.” They pouted like a child, “Plus, she stole all my ferals, so I wouldn’t wanna help her anyways.”

“Okay, fine. Let’s say that your intentions are honorable…”

“Because they are.”

Wraith rolled her eyes, “Then what should I be doing? Sunny didn’t have much time to teach me... before…”

A brief flash of regret passed over the glowing one’s face, “He surly is with Atom,” They sprang to their feet and twirled again, “but I’m in here with you! You’re so lucky. Hahahahahahaaaa!”

Wraith made a disgusted face, “Great. Now, how do I get out of here?”

“Just what you had been doing I suppose. How clear can you see the barrier?”

“Not well. I’m pushing out all around with no real direction…”

Infamy was impressed.

“I shall be your guide. Follow my light and I will lead you to the vulnerable…”

“Follow your light?” Wraith interrupted, stood and narrowed her eyes, “How do I know you won’t just entrap me the same as her?”

They looked around and held out their hands palms up, “What choice do you have? You are clearly powerful, Harbinger. Fight Radiance. Fight me! Fight, fight, fight!” They raised their fists and shook them in the air in time with their chant, “I’ll aid you on the outside, while you…”

There was a sudden flash of green fire and Radiance was there. She glowered at Infamy, “Hsst. Begone, pest!” With a flip of her wrist she cast them out, smirked at Wraith then vanished.

Left alone, Wraith smiled, “Fight from the inside.”

…..

MacCready happened to be on guard when Atom’s Assassin had their next major breakthrough. He was working on a gun restoration that Cait had brought for him and he felt her looking at him. Glancing up their eyes met and he could see that hers were clear. He jumped up and all but threw the worktable aside to get to her, “Wraith! Wraith! Wraith!” Breaking his own rule, he stuck his arms through the bars and pulled her to him. He cupped her face, kissed her then clunked their foreheads together, “I love you.”

“I… love… you too… Mac.”

He turned away to call to Hancock before kissing her again, “Are you back? Please. Please be back!”

The rest of her friends poured down the stairs with Hancock in the lead. He hugged and kissed her as well before making way for rest of them. He happened to glance at the glowing one and noticed that Infamy had their teeth bared in obvious effort, “Not sure how much time we got...”

Wraith suddenly pulled away from Deacon and turned back to MacCready. There was fear in her eyes and the effort it took to speak was clear, “I… love you, Mac.” When he tried to reciprocate she shook her head, “No… you don’t… understand. I would have… killed you anyway. It doesn’t… matter.” Her eyes filled with tears and she backed away to the far corner of the cage, “She’ll use me… to kill… you all. I love you all… I’ll kill you all… and she’ll… make me see every moment of it.”

“Why is she doin’ this?! Who or what is she?”

“And what does she want with Hancock?”

Wraith’s eyes lost their focus and she was soon back to a snarling beast, but she held on for just long enough to tell them Radiance’s true name, “She’s… Emogene.”

......

Thank you so much for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see my masterlink post under the Wraith in the Ruins tag (if my tags are working, haha) or my pinned post. As always, my ask is open. If you have any questions/concerns/comments please feel free to drop me a line. I will try to answer promptly and would love to hear from you. =^..^=

#wraith in the ruins #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout companions #fallout fanfic #fanfiction

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treatian · 3 years

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The Chronicles of the Dark One: Breaking the Curse

Chapter 4: And Your Enemies Closer

It turned out that whether Dove had wings or legs, he was still a remarkable asset. After his accomplice had left the shop, he had dutifully taken his bag of money into the back. He pulled out a thick black ledger off of one of the shelves and began to count the money. He worked on the books, just as he'd told Dove he would do, just as he always did. But this time, throughout the day, text message after text message came in. It began to paint a picture in his mind that made him smile with pride as he realized he was going to like this Emma Swan.

"Rumors are true," Dove wrote. "She was arrested earlier today for stealing Henry's file from Doctor Hopper's office. Mary Margaret Blanchard bailed her out. She cut down the tree branch after that. She's no longer welcome at Granny's, something about a 'no felon rule.'"

He'd barely had time to smirk at that convenient rule he was certain Regina had only just now decided to enforce when his phone buzzed with a picture notification. It was a picture of the apple tree outside the Mayor's office. Usually prim and elegant, it was obvious that one limb had clearly been hacked away by an ax or a chainsaw, perhaps. The branch lay on the ground along with a dozen or so apples scattered around it. The image nearly took his breath away. But this time, it wasn't because of Emma Swan, at least not entirely. It was because he'd seen that scene before, once a long time ago.

In the Enchanted Forest, in his original vision, he'd gotten a flash of Regina and the Swan, Emma, in clothes that were not of their land, facing off with one another. They'd stared one another down with hatred and determination in their eyes, two enemies, a villain, and a hero: the Cursemaker and the Cursebreaker. Behind them, in that vision, they'd been standing in front of a tree…an apple tree with a limb cut off.

As a chill swept through him, he crawled back through his messages and reread the part about Mary Margaret bailing Emma out of jail. Mary Margaret, Snow White. Mother and daughter had been reunited and maybe even formed some sort of bond somehow. He had no idea how or why, but he knew Mary Margaret. Here, the timid school teacher was shy and less than confident. She was a far cry from the queen and bandit she'd once been, no doubt by Regina's design. For Mary Margaret to want to do something like post bail for the woman who had stolen the files for the Mayor's son…that wasn't something she'd usually do. But it was interesting, so very, very interesting.

He knew what he had to do. He'd spend all day thinking about it. From the moment he'd gotten the picture from Dove, all the while he'd worked on the books and counted the money, even as he packed himself up to go home that evening and made a few adjustments to his shop. He'd come to the conclusion that he didn't need the Seer's help to break this Curse, that he didn't even need the voices of the other Dark Ones in his head. He could plan for the breaking of the Curse, he could navigate bringing magic to Storybrooke, but it was all going to start with one person: Emma Swan.

As if on cue, as he walked to his car that evening, he happened to spy Henry and Emma coming out of Archie's office, smiling together. The bug, Archie, personally saw them out, and they checked their watches. It was too early for Henry to be out of therapy, and as forgiving as Marco's friend the cricket was, he knew that Archie wouldn't have that look about someone who had really stolen the file. That meant that Emma and Henry spending time together was an action that was being sanctioned and encouraged by a man who always valued truth and honesty. And the fact that watches were checked…Archie wanted them back before Regina arrived and could find out.

That action alone was confirmation that he was about to make the right decision. In order for the Curse to be broken, sides would be taken, alliances would be formed, enemies made. He'd needed to choose his sides carefully in the Enchanted Forest, playing different sides to make sure the Curse was cast. Here, trying to break the Curse, it would be a lot easier. The vision he'd had in the Enchanted Forest made sense. Now, there was Regina's side, and there was Emma's side. Victory, this time around, would be found on Emma's side, and nowhere else.

As he watched the pair happily walk down the street, his eyes were drawn to the clocktower. Aside from the abandoned library, the sight of that still working clock lifted his spirits and his hopes. Whether she was currently capable of using magic or not, her arrival in Storybrooke had already worked some magic here. That magic was only going to grow. He wanted to be a part of it.

It was time for an allegiance change. That fact weighed heavier on him than he thought it would, but it was understandable. He'd trained Regina. He'd taught her everything she knew, relied on her, spent hundreds of years investing in her so that she'd cast the Curse and get him to where he was today. But now they were here; the Curse was cast. Now, his life had to be about breaking that Curse, or else he'd never be able to leave and find Bae. So yes, that meant it was time to change his allegiance. It was time to champion the Savior. It was time to start rooting for Emma Swan.

Once, he'd sought to ensure a terrible war between Snow White and the Evil Queen, and now he wanted to ensure one between the Mayor and the mother of her child. But this wasn't like crafting a war for Regina. This was creating a fight for Emma. He knew little about her, only having been in the room with her one time since she'd arrived, but the fact that she'd stayed and defaced the apple tree after Regina had her arrested and kicked out of her room at Granny's told him enough. She was fiery. She was strong and determined, and that was without whatever magical qualities she possessed. He'd known types like her before. The more support she had, the more she fought against Regina, the stronger she would get. So what was he to do?

Create support by creating unrest. Regina didn't have many friends here, he wasn't even convinced the Sheriff liked her, and he shared her bed, though he had no idea why he was sure. He had to foster hatred and fear of Emma in Regina. By doing that, Regina would push Emma. Emma would push back. The town would sense the war; they'd rally behind her, the Savior would grow stronger, the Curse would break. He could go find Baelfire.

And for that, he knew exactly what he had to do. He had to create instability for Regina. He didn't want Regina to know he had his memories, not yet…knowledge was power. But suspicion, on the other hand, was born of fear. And fear bred weakness. Weakness created instability.

With Regina assuming Henry was still at therapy, he knew right where to find her. He didn't make it into the Mayor's office at Town Hall; he didn't have to go that far. He smiled as he found her in the garden, tending to the tree that Miss Swan had defaced. The branch was gone, the apples picked up, the tree looking nearly perfect again. But the fact that Regina was the one tending to it…Emma had gotten under her skin. Beautiful.

"What a mess," he commented, alerting her to his presence.

"Not for long. What could I do for you, Mr. Gold?"

"I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I'd pop by. Lovely to see you in such high spirits," he stated before she could pick up on the fact that he never just "popped by," especially not to check on her, not unless he had something he needed or she needed of him.

As he circled her tree, Regina laughed. "Well, it's been a good day. I just rid the town of an unwanted nuisance."

He smiled. That was unlikely. In a way, he felt bad for Regina. If her wolf-spy was half as good as his bird-spy, then she might know that wasn't the case right now.

"Emma Swan. Really?" he paused, looking over the tree. Love her or hate her, that tree from their land did make the most delicious of apples. Probably second only to the apple that she'd fed her poor step-daughter once upon a time. He had an idea.

"Yes. I imagine she's half-way to Boston by now."

"Oh," he smiled, plucking one from the tree. "I wouldn't bet on that." Suddenly Regina turned, and the smile he'd heard in her voice gave way to darkness. "I just seen her strolling down the main street with your boy. Thick as thieves, they looked."

"What?"

"Perhaps you should have come to me," he suggested with a smile. Given their relationship, it was a suggestion in character for Mr. Gold, but if she happened to take the bait, he wouldn't regret it. It would give him an excuse to be closer to the situation. "If Miss Swan is a problem you can't fix, I'm only too happy to help. For a price, of course."

Regina chuckled. "I'm not in the business of making deals with you anymore."

He smiled as she turned from him. She really had made this all too easy. He wanted her on edge. He wanted her back to the Regina she'd been when she'd stormed into his shop after getting Henry because she'd figured out who or rather what his mother was. What ever happened to that fire, that knowledge and discomfort, he wasn't sure…but he wanted it back now. He wanted just a tease of it. And interestingly enough, Henry was the last deal she'd ever made.

"To which deal are you referring?" he questioned with perfect timing.

She turned back, her eyes wide, body trembling. He had a feeling that if he could hear her heart, it would have been pounding. Now she had fear. It wasn't much, just a hint. It was only a hint of what had been that might make her begin to question her power and this curse. "You know what deal."

"Oh, right. Yeah. The boy I procured for you." Her shoulders lowered in relaxation, and she turned back to her tree. She was relieved, and that meant it was the perfect time to stress her again. "Henry…did I ever tell you what a lovely name that was? How ever did you pick it?"

And there it was again. Tension. Just enough inflection in his voice to suggest he knew something, but not enough to confirm it. That was what he wanted. He wanted her to stay up late tonight, reliving those memories of panic from when she'd first gotten Henry, remembering what it felt like to think the girl was the Savior coming to break her curse. He wanted her to wonder if it was breaking and ask herself if the man she was talking to was Mr. Gold or her old tutor Rumpelstiltskin.

"Did you want her to come to town?" she questioned, rounding on him, her voice raised in exactly what he wanted to hear. Panic. "You wanted all this to happen, didn't you? Your finding Henry wasn't an accident, was it?"

He kept himself in check, showing not a trace of the curiosity and surprise on his face as he looked her over. They'd had this conversation before. Not exactly word for word, but close enough. She hadn't gotten answers from him then because he really hadn't known, he was cursed, and it was fate intervening on his behalf. But she…she should know. Why didn't she know?

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Where did you get him? Do you know something?"

"I have no idea what you're implying."

"I think you do," she bit back. "Who is this woman, his mother, this…Emma Swan?"

He smiled, suddenly feeling breathless and unable to hide the joy he found in her statement. If she was asking again, then she didn't know. Dammit. He was right. She did have magic. She'd used it on herself all those years ago, to erase the information from her mind. That was how she'd been able to raise Henry all these years without fear of his birth mother. That was why she'd stopped panicking after she'd come into his shop! His previous suspicions were confirmed. He had to be careful then. If she had magic and he didn't, he needed to tread very carefully. He might have already given away too much.

"I would say you think you know exactly who she is," he answered mysteriously. It was a statement that could easily go two ways. It could be translated that he assumed Regina had figured Emma Swan out already, judged her early on, and knew what she was dealing with. Of course, it could also be translated that if she was fearful that it was Snow White's daughter, she might want to act on that instinct. And he was happy to leave it at that.

"I really must be going," he turned to leave, but with his limp, he'd barely gotten a step in before Regina appeared in front of him again, cutting him off.

"Tell me what you know about her!"

Panic. That was good. Panic was good, but knowledge was bad. Panic kept her in a state of confusion, which would only serve him in the future. It meant that she wouldn't attack Emma directly because there was no proof that she was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. He wanted her to suspect but not to know. But maybe, a bit more suspicion…what was that deal they'd made back home?

"I'm not going to answer you, dear," he responded, giving her a hint that he might have known something more than he was saying. "So I suggest you excuse me. Please."

And there it was. He felt something shift in the air between them, something sizzle. Magic. The curse upholding itself and sparing magic to make sure the deal they made was upheld. And from the looks of it, Regina sensed it too. The drop of the jaw, the flush of her cheeks. It was just enough that it scared her. It made her question whether or not he remembered and whether or not it was because of Emma. He took a bite of his apple and moved around the Mayor. She didn't follow, didn't ask any more questions.

And he smiled to himself as he tossed the apple over his shoulder and left her with a head full of suspicions and fear.

#Rumbelle #Rumple #Rumpelstiltskin #Dark One #Mr. Gold #Regina Mills #Evil Queen #Emma Swan #Savior #ouat #ouat fanfiction #fanfic

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mobius-prime · 4 years

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126. Knuckles the Echidna #25

Childhood's End

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Manny Galan Colors: Mark Bernardo

It's finally time for a reunion a long time in the making - the reunion, of course, between Knuckles and Locke! Due to this being the 25th issue, it's not part of a larger arc, it's standalone. Knuckles is helping Julie-Su clean up the mess left behind by the fight against the Legion in the base where they were both held captive a couple issues ago, when upon picking up Benedict's robotic skull, he spots a reflection on its side that stuns him. He drops the skull as Julie-Su calls after him, racing after the figure he saw reflected and ending up on the streets of the city.

There's a lot of things Knuckles could do here. I'm sure many people expected him to be angry, yell at his father for leaving him and keeping secrets, act on any feelings of betrayal he may have. But in the end, this is a teenager who, according to the intro page, hasn't seen his father in six whole years, ever since he jumped into the wall of fire in front of him, and so he begins to cry and embraces Locke, saying how happy he is to see him. They just stand there hugging for a moment, and then Knuckles begins to boil over with questions, wanting to know everything. Locke leads him away so they can talk more privately, and they head out jut as Julie-Su emerges onto the street as well, looking for him.

Ooh boy, I sense a conflict coming up. Locke and Knuckles get into a shuttle and Locke pilots them to Haven, which Knuckles asks for more information on, seeing as he didn't spend very long there before and thus didn't get many answers about it. And so Locke begins a flashback-laden history lesson, pretty much par for the course for anything Kenders gets his hands on. Haven was originally built by the fire ants to be a base for the current Guardian, Steppenwolf (remember him? Son of Edmund), to carry out his duties. Eventually Steppenwolf had a son, Moonwatcher, and trained him to be a Guardian as well. However, soon enough, Steppenwolf realized that there might be more danger to the Floating Island than just that from within.

Man, why are the Overlanders always so evil in these earlier issues? It's like the entire species is constantly plotting to take over everything and kill Mobians just because they can. Then again, the ones up there are led by a Kintobor, so I guess the Kintobors have always just been a crappy family. Steppenwolf senses their insincerity, and proceeds to mind-torture them with extreme pain until they agree to never set foot on the island again. Geez, man, I get they were traitorous, but did you really have to go that far? Turns out it was the fire ants with their telepathic powers that were able to warn him of the Overlanders' intentions. Steppenwolf had a chat with his fire ant mentor Christopheles, and together they agreed that there would always be more people trying to invade the island, so they should take extra security measures to ensure it would be properly protected.

As Locke tells this story, they land in Haven, and Knuckles begins to ask about it again, prompting Locke to reveal that it wasn't always kept a secret from the current Guardian. He continues his story - originally, Steppenwolf decided that there should be more than one Guardian always at the ready to protect the island, so he brought Moonwatcher to Haven, and they began to trade off duties. One would explore the surface of whatever landmass they were flying over, while the other would remain on the island and look after everyone on it.

I like how Harlan looks like a totally normal Knuckles clone while Rembrandt looks like this crazy hippie who decided to only dress himself in articles of clothing he found at grandpa's garage sale. The family line continued up to Rembrandt's son, Aaron, which is probably the most normal name for any echidna we've seen so far. Aaron was on the surface of the planet one day when he encountered a squad of Overlanders roaming around with, to his shock, some Dark Legionnaires, who, upon seeing him and recognizing him as a Guardian, tried to capture him. Aaron tried to run away but ran straight into Menniker himself (who was still alive because of the slower passing of time in the Twilight Zone, if you'll recall Kragok mentioning before), next to a giant missile. Apparently the Dark Legion was conspiring with the Overlanders to just straight up explode the Floating Island, and, panicking, one of the Overlanders fired the missile prematurely, to Menniker's fury. Aaron jumped up and managed to land on it, and was doing a fine job of disarming it midair until Menniker landed on it as well to stop him.

Both Aaron and Menniker were vaporized in the explosion, and Rembrandt and the rest of the Guardians were distraught at the loss. However, the family line didn't end there, as Aaron's younger brother Jordan offered himself up to become the next Guardian in his late brother's place.

Thus began the tradition of a father training his son in isolation on the island, then disappearing to Haven when the time was right to allow their offspring to take over their duties alone, this time never leaving the island's surface. Knuckles is somewhat relieved to hear that his father never abandoned him all those years ago, though he perhaps may have been slightly less relieved if he'd known that he was spying on him all that time, including all his private conversations with friends and Julie-Su, but I digress. When Locke mentions something about Knuckles' training being more important than any other Guardian before, Knuckles presses him on the issue, insisting he's ready to hear the answer when Locke hesitates. Locke explains how one night after being married to Lara-Le for a while, he had a nightmare of a strange series of events, which included a giant robot looking kind of like Robotnik destroying a city while his future son faced it down. He awoke in a cold sweat, but had this dream again and again, which prompted him to go to Athair of all people for advice, who told him it was a dream of the future that he must prepare for.

Yes, that's right. Locke altered his own genetic material so that he could shoot mutant super-sperm into his wife to create a superpowered baby, without telling her any of what he was doing, of course. But then he wasn't even satisfied with that! As soon as his wife laid Knuckles' egg, he took it and stuck it in the Chaos Chamber where he blasted it with radiation from the emerald in front of the rest of the Brotherhood. This is the true backstory of Knuckles' birth, and his apparent destiny. I've heard it summarized before as "had a bad dream, better microwave the baby," which, yeah, that's basically exactly what happened. Locke could have, with his foreknowledge of things to come, simply worked on training his son adequately for the future he saw, ensuring as well that he had the full backing of the rest of the Brotherhood for his entire life. But no, instead he did… well, this. (Ironically, the vision as seen in his nightmare depicted above never even slightly came to pass over the course of the comic, due to things like changing storylines and new head writers. Perhaps Locke's actions averted that future, or perhaps he really did just have a bad dream and microwave the baby as a result - there's no way to know for sure.)

And did it work? Did Locke's son, in fact, come out of the egg as a superpowered savior of echidnakind?

Oh, did you think those were just part of his gloves installed there to help him punch better? Nah, out of all the echidnas, only Knuckles has actual echidna knuckles. Somehow, this one tiny detail was enough to convince Locke that his genetic alterations worked and that Knuckles would be the ultra-powerful savior of the echidna people, even though it could also have been, I dunno, a genetic defect caused by all the mutant sperm and radiation that went into making this child. Of course, Knuckles is intimidated by all this - I don't think anyone has ever had a positive reaction to hearing they're a genetically-engineered destined hero - but Locke retorts that he had similar misgivings when he was still a Guardian trainee, and that his decision to microwave his baby was also really hard for him, calling it a decision between "sacrificing the world or siring a son to save it." I'm still not buying it, Locke, but Knuckles seems placated for now, and Locke suggests that, for the time being, they just spend some long-overdue time together as father and son. Knuckles happily agrees, exchanging "I love you"s with his father for the first time in who knows how many years.

So my opinion on all this? Well, I've already given some of it above, but honestly, I think that Locke far overreacted to his whole nightmare situation. He's been awful to Lara-Le both through their entire marriage and after as a result, constantly lying to her, keeping secrets, and interfering with her attempts to be a part of her son's life. He put his son through a lot of emotionally traumatizing experiences, allowing him to believe his own father had incinerated himself just to try to teach him self-reliance, and then spying on his every private moment from afar. The thing is, every bad guy sees themselves as the hero. And while I don't necessarily categorize Locke as an out-and-out villain, I do believe that, in almost every decision he ever made, he was in the wrong. You can even see it in the way the other members of the Brotherhood treat him, where even though most of them went through the same training regimen with being left behind by their fathers and all, nearly everyone in Haven, especially his own father, thinks Locke is too distant from his son and should reveal himself to him. Locke waited this long - Knuckles is almost sixteen, as we'll see in more detail next KtE arc - and almost every one of his plans went awry somewhere along the line, causing a lot of strife, bad feelings, and chaos for Knuckles throughout the course of the comic. Locke had the best of intentions, and the worst of executions.

Here's the thing. Kenders has said before that he based Locke on his own father, with whom he'd had a difficult relationship when he was younger. I see nothing wrong with basing a character on someone that one knows in real life, but one must also take into account the ramifications of such a thing, seeing as you wouldn't want to portray someone you care about as a bad guy. As it is, I feel that Locke would make a much better villain than… well, than whatever he currently is. If some plot points, character attitudes, etc. were changed, Locke could end up as this mastermind behind a plot that Knuckles would have to uncover, only to heartbreakingly discover his own father behind everything he'd been through. If Knuckles then rejected his father's path to instead carve his own, Locke would become angry, and there would be a lot of strife, a lot of fighting that could come of such a thing. But he wouldn't be a pure villain, either - he'd have a redemption arc, where he'd begin to understand just how badly he'd messed everything up. Then there would be more conflict concerning whether his self-awareness came too late to repair any kind of relationship with his son, let alone achieve forgiveness, or indeed forgive himself. Kenders is trying so hard to portray his own father-insert in a sympathetic light that there's this weird disconnect between how his selfish actions are portrayed by the writing in the comic, and how they come across to anyone looking critically at the plot. I understand his intention in writing everything this way, I really do, but ultimately, he was unwilling to put good storytelling first, and now we've ended up with this muddled mess.

That said, I know I've talked about this before, but I'm far less… I don't know, hateful of Kenders' work than many people in the Archie Sonic fandom. I think he's put together a truly fascinating world here, with many varied characters and a lot of potential for conflict to arise out of any situation naturally - true character-driven conflict, where the mores and values of different people clash dramatically causing strife, which I've always seen as the most interesting kind of conflict. The problem with his work, in the end, usually comes down to execution, and to, well, his own limitations as a writer of dialogue in particular. Seriously, not to insult him too harshly, but his dialogue is so often stilted and awkward that I really think he'd be better off as creative director of any project he worked on, coming up with characters and plots and worldbuilding and the like, while leaving the actual writing to someone else. In addition, quite frankly, he needs an editor that's willing to tell him "no" sometimes, but I've also heard that he's quite hard to work with, always wanting his own ideas to go exactly the way he wants them. And while as a writer myself I understand to a point being protective about one's own ideas, if you're working on a comic like this, dude, you have to be willing to work with others.

But anyway, I've rambled on far too long about this. One textbox aside next to the panels of Locke's nightmare promise us an epic upcoming "Knuckles Twenty Years Later" story in a future Sonic Super Special. As anyone who's read the comics already knows, that whole shebang is kind of infamous for being… well, boring, uninspired, and ultimately unimportant to the plot of the rest of the comic. It's one of the few parts of Kenders' work that I'm wholly uninterested in, not really even a little bit, but I'm still going to cover it once we come to it (which isn't for quite a long while, actually), as there's a lot of criticism to be had there, and what's a comic review without a healthy dose of criticism, eh?

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #kte 25 #writer: ken penders #pencils: manny galan #colors: mark bernardo

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toseehowthestoryends · 6 years

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A Different Fate - Chapter 37

Summary: Rumplestiltskin is the Dark One, but Fiona knows that his fate was meant to be different. When she learns what has become of her son, she grows determined to restore the destiny she cut away—whether he wants her to or not. When Belle makes a deal to become the Dark One’s maid, she never expects to find his mother encouraging her growing relationship with Rumplestiltskin.

Read it on AO3 | FFN | tumblr tags

Chapter 37—“We Must Believe”

“I got a letter from my father.” Belle found Rumplestiltskin reading, something he seemed to be doing more these days now that he didn’t have voices in his mind to distract him. He’d been poring through some ancient books on realm crossing with a scowl on his face, which told Belle that he could use the distraction.

“Has he decided that he regrets letting you leave with the beast?” Rumplestiltskin’s tone was light, but Belle thought she could detect a hint of self-loathing.

“No, he actually seems to have accepted my decision.” Belle was pleased with that, although not quite as satisfied with the rest of the letter. “He did also ask how you’re treating me, and if I need anything,” she admitted.

“Do you need anything, sweetheart? You know that I’ll put the world at your feet if you want me to. All you have to do is say the word.”

“Really, I just want you.” She leaned against his shoulder with a smile. “Though, if you’re offering, I could use a few new dresses.”

“Of course!” Rumplestiltskin slammed his book shut with gusto. “Would you like me to call seamstresses? Or would you prefer to travel? Or we could travel to the seamstresses, of course.”

“Seamstresses? Travel?” Belle blinked, taking the options in. “I thought you’d just magic me up a dress or two!”

“Magic?” Rumplestiltskin’s lips curled into a magnificent sneer. “Of course not. Anything magic can make, magic can unmake. Even the finest gown made of magic can be dispelled by a semi-competent sorcerer, and we can’t have that, can we?”

Belle felt her eyes go wide. “No. No, we definitely don’t need that.” Not that she minded the idea of encouraging Rumplestiltskin to pull her clothes off—she’d only just recently convinced him to do so at all—but the idea of some unscrupulous enemy doing it made her shudder.

Rumplestiltskin must have seen her reaction, because he reached out to take her hand. “I’ve never been much of a seamstress, or I would offer to make you something. Instead, however, I can offer you the finest seamstresses in any realm.” He shot a glare at the book he’d been reading. “Or almost any realm, anyway.”

“Can we go somewhere where they won’t recognize you like this?” Belle reached up to touch his cheek. “I like this face.”

He blushed adorably. “I’m sure I can think of somewhere.”

Zelena’s vault was ridiculously unguarded. A few spells lay in Fiona’s way, ones easily waved aside, and finding Mulan’s heart among the many was easy. The boxes were even labeled, so Fiona did a quick dance around the room, spying out this name and that, making sure that no one useful might be bereft of that rather vital appendage. But she didn’t recognize any names, and she made a mental note to let Tink now that the friend she was worried about wasn’t missing her heart. Zelena could have left it elsewhere, of course, but she seemed a bit too obsessively organized for that. That hardly matters, though, does it? I have what I came for, and Zelena’s little spy won’t help her any longer. Smiling, Fiona stepped out of the vault—

Only to run right into an obnoxious little manchild she had devotedly hoped to forget.

“You again?” Her lips curled into a snarl, and Fiona instinctively snatched Mulan’s heart closer. Heavens only knew what Mal—Pan!—would do with it. He’d probably steal it for fun.

“Fiona, my darling. It’s been so long.” He offered her a mocking bow, which only made her scowl harder.

“Not long enough. Besides, I thought you liked that nasty little world you made for yourself.” She snorted. “Why slum in the Enchanted Forest again, darling? It doesn’t suit you.”

“Oh, it certainly doesn’t.” He was so smug; was he ever not? “And you can rest assured that I won’t stay here for long. I’m not sure the place could last between the two of us.”

Fiona rolled her eyes. “I have better things to do than pick a fight with you.”

“Particularly since you know you’d lose.”

“Must you sound like the child you turned yourself into? It’s terribly wearying.” Fiona groaned. “Now, if you must, gloat about whatever clever trick you’re up to, and then get out of my way. I have places to be.”

“And a stolen heart, I see. It’s nice to know that we’re both so naughty.” Pan grinned, but Fiona didn’t take the opportunity to correct him. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to know that she was here to help someone. He’d probably laugh.

“Do just get on with it.”

“Don’t you worry, love, I’m not here for you. Even if that would be an interesting battle.” He actually leered at her, and although Fiona had once—many times!—taken this man lovingly into her bed, the look on his face left her feeling vaguely nauseous. “I’m just here to find two missing lost boys and bring them home.”

“You’ve come yourself? Either they must feel honored, or they’re too clever for you to find them.” She couldn’t resist a little snicker. “I’m going to bet I know the answer to that, though, don’t I?”

Pan’s leer whipped into a snarl. “Don’t be too happy for them, Fiona. When I get ahold of them, I will make them suffer.”

“Oooh, what a happy home you offer! You know, when I stole children, I at least had the decency to be upfront about making them miserable. You offer them fun and games until you decide to hurt them.”

“High minded words coming from the Black Fairy.”

Fiona rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing high about them. I am what I am, and I admit it. But at least—unlike you—I have not abandoned my son. He doesn’t remember you very fondly, by the way. In fact, I think he prefers not to remember you at all.”

Was that a flinch? She hoped so. But Pan came back on balance all too quickly for Fiona’s tastes, and the smirk was back in full force. “Oh, I know he remembers me. He knew me as a boy, unlike you. And that abandonment leaves a mark.”

“You’re actually proud of that?” she asked incredulously.

“Of course I am. You should be as well. Between the two of us, we created quite the monster.” Pan threw back his head and howled a laugh. “What a perfect little dark family we make, huh? It’s glorious!”

“There is nothing glorious about you, Malcolm.” Fiona snapped those words before she could stop herself. “And there never was.”

“I seem to remember you singing a different tune, once upon a time.”

“Reversion to childhood does wreak havoc upon memories, though, doesn’t it?” She smiled sweetly, and stepped around him, wrapping herself in a cloak of darkness for protection. “Go look for your lost little boys if you must. But leave our son alone, or you won’t enjoy the reception you receive.”

“I doubt you’d enjoy it, either!” Pan’s laugh wouldn’t have sounded hollow to someone who hadn’t once known him as well as she did, but Fiona could tell.

Her smile, on the other hand, was quite genuine. She knew that their son was no longer any sort of monster, and if Pan did drop by, the Rumplestiltskin he encountered would be far from the one he expected. Fiona hoped he would not, because she did know that the wounds Pan had spoken of were both real and deep, but her son had also come a long way. He had people who loved him now, people who would help him, and he never needed to worry about the father who had abandoned him again.

Blue made her wait, of course. As if trekking up to the fairylands—and burning the last favor she’d ever have with the Rose Fairy—wasn’t bad enough, Blue left Tiger Lily cooling her heels for hours while Blue did whatever it was she did. She supposed that she shouldn’t be surprised, not after all this time, but a small part of Tiger Lily had still thought of Blue as her friend. Even after everything that had happened, she had hoped their onetime closeness still meant something.

Two hours later, she was certain it did not.

“Tiger Lily!” Blue floated forward—full sized, so as not to offend her guest—and gave her a perfunctory hug. “It is so good to see you after so long. You’ve found your way free of Neverland!”

“I have.” Describing how that had been done was not on her list of things to do, nor was listening to some lecture about how she never should have gone.

Blue’s smile was thin. “I take it that Pan is still contained there?”

“Last I knew.” That really was all Blue cared about, wasn’t it? A few lost boys meant nothing to her, particularly since most had been foolish enough to go with Pan or the Shadow willingly. Tiger Lily gritted her teeth for a moment before forcing herself to smile. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

“No, of course not. I understand you’ve set yourself up as a healer in Port Mystic.”

“I have, yeah.” Tiger Lily felt her eyes narrow. Was Blue judging her? She was helping people as best she could, following the creed she had been raised to. “Is that a problem?”

“Oh, of course not. I am glad to see you doing well.” Blue’s smile was that patented shallow one, though, one Tiger Lily had never seen directed at her. She didn’t enjoy it one bit. You’re not a fairy anymore, she told herself firmly. Get used to it.

“Anyway, I came here to tell you about something, and then I’ll get out of your wings and back to my mundane life.” She squared her shoulders. “There’s a witch near Port Mystic who has a reputation for stealing young and beautiful people so that she can curse them with eternal life. And then suck out that eternal life for herself.”

Blue’s eyes finally narrowed. “I have heard of such terrible things. It’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, it is. And we need your help. There’s no one in Port Mystic who can stop her. Her name is Madam—”

“This really does sound like a problem for the humans, my dear.” Blue cut her off gently, but Tiger Lily still felt her eyes go wide.

“I just said there’s no one around who can stop her.”

“Oh, I’m sure someone would be willing. Or maybe the patron fairy of a nearby family might find it in her heart to help.”

“If her family is affected.” Tiger Lily ground the words out so hard her teeth hurt. “Madam Faustina seems to only go for youths no one will miss.”

“It is a pity, but—”

“Kind of like Pan. Is that why you’ve never tried to stop him?” She couldn’t help from snarling the words; part of Tiger Lily burned to punch Blue, but violence had never gotten her far before, so she didn’t. Even if the idea was attractive.

“Tsk, tsk.” Blue clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “You disappoint me, Tiger Lily. I do know who freed the Black Fairy, you know. Trying to guilt me into action after what you have done is not the right thing to do.”

“I don’t care about right and wrong,” she snarled. “I care about saving children from this witch!”

“You released the Black Fairy back upon the world, my dear Tiger Lily. That endangers far more children, don’t you think?”

“And has she been taking children again, hm?” Tiger Lily shot back.

Blue folded her hands. “It is only a matter of time.”

“Hm.” Tiger Lily rolled her eyes. “You really are a hypocrite, aren’t you? You don’t care about anyone other than your precious ‘chosen’ ones. As far as you’re concerned, the rest of humanity can be left to rot.”

“The fairies cannot save everyone, Tiger Lily. You were taught that in the very beginning.” Blue shook her head sadly, now, but after all this time, Tiger Lily was not fooled.

“Yeah, I was. And now I’m starting to be really glad I left.”

Mentioning the way they had both abandoned Fiona’s son to Malcolm was on the tip of Tiger Lily’s tongue, but on second thought, she stopped herself. If Fiona was right, she had freed her son from the terrible fate he had ended up with, and Blue should have been happy about that. Tiger Lily felt just spiteful enough not to share the good news, and left the fairylands as quickly as she could find a way out.

“Can I help you with this time traveling spell of yours?” Nottingham leaned in close, and Zelena couldn’t help preening a little. “It sounds impressive. Know, I know I can’t do magic or any of that, but if there’s any help you need—even in a little way—I would like to do that for you.”

“You really are quite sweet, aren’t you?” She smiled, and for once, the expression didn’t feel either nasty or forced. Nottingham was no prince, and he wasn’t a man with any magical power, but he was already proving to be quite devoted to her. And he looked at her like she was a beautiful woman, without even hesitating over the green skin that she hated so.

Nottingham was drawn to power more than good looks, Zelena knew, but she was all right with that. After all, she had power, and she liked the fact that he was amoral all around. He would be loyal to her, just like Tink had said. And she wouldn’t need to take his heart.

“Well, if we are soulmates—and I see no evidence to say we aren’t—I figure we should help one another.” His smile was genuine, if a little hungry.

She laid a hand on his chest, palm flat to touch the hairs peeking out from beneath the collar of his shirt. “And what help do you want from me?”

“Revenge. There are those I would make suffer.”

“Oooh, I like the sound of that.”

“Here. You’ve been missing this.” Fiona held the heart out as nonchalantly as she could, trying to pretend that the encounter with her ex-husband hadn’t rattled her. Mulan didn’t help matters by staring at her like she had two heads.

“I’m not—”

“Oh, bother, I’m not going through this with you. The compulsions are gone.” Fiona rolled her eyes. “And here is your bloody heart.”

She thrust it in with perhaps a bit more force than was required, making Mulan gasp. But the smile that lit Mulan’s face up afterwards was far more disconcerting than the pained gasp had been.

“Thank you!” Mulan looked down at her chest with wide and happy eyes, and then back up at Fiona. “You—you found my heart!”

“Well, it wasn’t lost. A little green goblin just happened to have it locked up in her vault. I just took it back.” Fiona shrugged.

“For me? I didn’t even think you liked me?”

“Don’t take it personally. I don’t like many people.” Fiona shuffled back a step, afraid Mulan might hug her or something. “But I particularly hate Zelena, so anything that annoys her is a worthy endeavor. And I also do like Belle, who wanted you to be, um, complete.”

“Thank you again.” Mulan didn’t hug her, thankfully; maybe Mulan wasn’t the hugging type. Fiona was so glad for that. “What, um, do I owe you?”

“Well, not letting Zelena steal your heart so she can spy on my son again would be a fantastic start. Other than that, nothing.”

“She wanted to know why Rumplestiltskin likes Belle. Or if he was just using her.” Mulan looked a little defeated, and very uncomfortable. Fiona knew why, of course. No one liked being used, particularly against their friends.

Fiona took a breath; they’d expected that, but it was still unsettling to hear. “How much did she see?”

“I don’t think that much. I avoided them unless she made me go watch them, and I could usually tell if she was spying through the buzzing in my ears.”

“Clever.” Fiona nodded approvingly. “And, um, helpful.”

“Please don’t thank me. Belle is my friend.”

Fiona nodded. “Well, then, I’m glad we can see eye to eye on this.” And she wished this could be less awkward, but she couldn’t figure out how, so she gave Mulan another nod and walked out of the room.

For her part, Mulan didn’t look like she knew what to say, either, so she didn’t follow.

Rumplestiltskin could get used to this.

Their first stop had been Agrabah, which was admittedly not the place to find dresses of the type that a traditional lady of the Enchanted Forest would wear, but Belle had still enjoyed the sights and the wares. She had ended up with as skimpy little sari that made Rumplestiltskin’s jaw drop, though. He’d vowed that if anyone else saw her in that (excepting perhaps his mother), he would have to kill the offender, but Belle had only laughed. He’d bought her jewels, too, which she insisted she didn’t need, but he thought looked glorious on her.

“I’m no princess!” Belle had objected.

“You deserve to be treated like one, and more.” He’d kissed the side and talked her into it before sweeping Belle off to another realm almost identical to their own. He’d had to get Jefferson to play chauffeur, of course, but a healthy helping of gold and a promise that Jefferson could take Grace shopping made the Hatter eager enough to come along. Jefferson had the good grace not to ask about Rumplestiltskin’s suddenly human looks, too; he probably thought that Rumplestiltskin was just humoring Belle.

That didn’t keep him from needling them both about their romance, but it made Belle smile, so Rumplestiltskin didn’t threaten him. Much.

“Be nice!” Belle swatted his arm lightly as they popped out of the hat in the alternate version of the Enchanted Forest.

Jefferson laughed. “This is nice, for him! He only threatened to turn me into a puppy—that’s a significant leap upwards from the toad he usually chooses.”

“I think you’d make a cute puppy, Papa.” Grace grinned.

Rumplestiltskin gave the girl a sweeping bow, sharing her smile. “Shall we find out?”

“Rumple!” But Belle was almost laughing too hard to object, and he liked the way she glowed so happily. He would travel with her every day for the rest of his life if it would make her happy—if only they could find Bae, first. Bae would like this world, Rumplestiltskin decided. He generally avoided the Alternate Forest because it was so much like home, but with Belle at his side, things were different.

“How about I take a raincheck on that and show you to the finest dressmaker in any realm?” Jefferson put his hat back on with a flourish. “She’s a little bit crazy, but I promise, it’s well worth the trip.”

“A little crazy?” Belle looked dubious, and Rumplestiltskin had to agree. He generally trusted Jefferson, but he knew that his sense of adventure was a little more daring than it was intelligent. He was trying so hard to be good; the last thing he needed was to test his newfound ability to be nice to strangers with some ‘crazy’ seamstress.

Jefferson just shrugged. “Ah, Minnie’s a good sort. She likes to dress like a mouse for some reason—hence the crazy—but she makes dresses like queens can only dream of.”

Jefferson was right, of course; both Belle and Grace left with dozens of dresses after their two day trip to the Alternate Forest. Even Rumplestiltskin found himself with a few new suits, as did Jefferson, and Minnie the Tailor—who hated being called a seamstress—ended the day quite richer. She had a touch of her own magic, which was the only way the dresses could be done so quickly, but nothing that could be deconstructed by a well-placed spell or three. Belle did bring home a dress for Fiona, too, since Rumplestiltskin knew his mother’s size by heart, which she said she hoped would get Fiona out of those dreadful black things she usually liked wearing.

Rumplestiltskin wasn’t so sure that Belle could talk his mother out of being the Black Fairy so simply, but he did suggest gold for the dress.

His new book was fascinating. Bae hadn’t known that there had been so many Saviors; he’d known that people had once thought Beowulf to be one (they’d been wrong, even if he couldn’t remember most of those details or why his father had killed Beowulf), but he hadn’t heard of many others. Why hadn’t there been one there to stop the ogres? He hoped that reading further into the book could provide answers. Right now, it was just telling stories about various Saviors and one nameless boy who had had his fate as a Savior cut away before he could even help anyone.

“Do you know anything about this?” he asked Tiger Lily one night after she’d gotten back from her useless conversation with Blue. “It says that there was a Savior who had their fate cut away.”

Tiger Lily’s face went strangely still. “Yes, actually.” She bit her lip. “I was…I was to be his fairy godmother.”

“Is that why Blue took your wings?” Beans asked around a mouthful of beans. He really did love eating the things, provided they weren’t of the magical variety. Bae hadn’t asked if Beans had any more magical beans, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know, but he did know that the normal variety made his friend fart non-stop.

Unfortunately, beans were cheap, and they weren’t rich.

“Yes, actually.” Tiger Lily swallowed. “I couldn’t stop it from happening.”

“What happens to a Savior who has their fate cut away?” Bae really didn’t know much about how being a Savior worked; the book said that the job came with great light magic, but what did that have to do with fate? He didn’t really like believing in fate, anyway, because if so, that would have meant that his father was meant to be evil, and he was meant to be let go.

“Nothing good.” Her sigh made Tiger Lily look very sad and very old. “A Savior is meant to help others in times of the greatest need…and if that fate is cut away, they are unable to help at all. Often times, no one does.”

Bae frowned. It sounded to him like Tiger Lily was avoiding answering questions again. “But what happened to the would-be Savior?”

“Um.” A long moment passed before Tiger Lily spoke, her voice very quiet. “He became the Dark One.”

“What?” Surprise jerked the word out of Bae, and he knew—knew—right away what that had to mean. A funny feeling coiled up in his stomach, one that was sick with what-might-have-been and a loss he hadn’t known he’d suffered. “Can you imagine me with that power, Bae? I could save all the children?” The memory of his father’s voice rang so loudly in his ears that Rumplestiltskin might well have been in the room. The next question blurted out of him: “Is that why there was no Savior during the Ogre Wars?”

“Yes, actually. The would-be Savior you’re asking about was supposed to stop the First Ogre War, and then it would have been the last.” A shrug. “If things had gone according to plan.”

“But they didn’.” Beans even sounded interested, now, despite his usual disdain for human magic. “There been three Ogre Wars, now.”

Tiger Lily looked away. “Unfortunately.”

“But what happens to the Savior?” Bae already knew about the Ogre Wars; they were terrible, but not new and interesting. But his father…what had that done to his papa? “If their fate is cut away, are they supposed to die?”

“No.” Tiger Lily’s face took on a strained sort of grimace. “No, they don’t die. A Savior without their fate—and without the power they were fated to wield—is left empty and rudderless. They can become anything…good or bad.”

“The way you say that makes it sound like the Savior becoming the Dark One was just meant to be.” Bae didn’t like that, not at all. It made him feel so trapped.

“The one that it happened to, the Dark One…well, let’s just say that he suffered for it before causing suffering in turn.” She heaved another huge sigh. “I should have been there to help, but without magic, I could do nothing. So, I went to Neverland. It seemed as good a place as any for exile.”

“You mean a miserable place.” That was Beans, but Bae agreed wholeheartedly.

“Perhaps I was just punishing myself.”

“I imagine you don’t want to see me, but I’ll leave all the sooner if you would bother coming out of whatever hole you’re hiding in.” Fiona bit back a groan, sitting on a rock in front of the Apprentice’s house. She’d contemplated just blasting the door in, but that wasn’t really a good way to ask someone for help.

She hated playing nice. It was so boring.

“I am not sure why you have returned, Fiona. I cannot help you.” The Apprentice finally emerged, his face long and haggard.

“Do you always look so down in the dumps? I promise I won’t turn you into a ferret this time.” Fiona tried a winning smile, but the Apprentice only grimaced. “Truly.”

He just scowled at her. “I am merely saddened by the state of the world and the coming of the Dark Curse.”

“Well, if it’s the Dark Curse you’re worried about, you’re in luck today. You can help prevent it. Right here, right now.”

“How?” The Apprentice’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“My son only wants that curse cast to find his son, as you well know. And you and I both know that you can create a portal to the Land Without Magic.” Fiona sat up straight, looking him in the eyes. “Create one so that we can find Baelfire, and I give you my word that the Dark Curse will never see the light of day again.”

“I have already told you that my magic cannot create a portal through which the Dark One can pass—”

Fiona cocked her head innocently. “Oh, but what if he isn’t the Dark One any longer?”

“That would be impossible.”

“So you said, but you don’t know my son.” She couldn’t restrain her grin; Fiona was still so proud of Rumplestiltskin that she could burst. “He has fulfilled Merlin’s prophecy. Rumplestiltskin has turned the darkness to light.”

“He could not have possibly done so. Not after so many centuries.” The Apprentice crossed his arms crankily. “You are wasting my time. Why? If you have some nefarious plan in mind, I assure you that it will not work.”

“I honestly don’t. I’m here to help my son find his son, nothing more. Although you are so terribly annoying that the urge to turn you into a ferret again is almost overwhelming.” She groaned. “Why will you not believe me?”

“Because I have seen that curse and the rot it causes. It eats at the host’s soul until there is nothing left, and none of your son’s predecessors have lasted as long as he has. The fact that there is enough love left in you that you hope for him is impressive, but—”

“True Love’s kiss,” she interrupted him, unable to take more of that dreadful monologue. “True Love’s kiss did the trick, and the Dark One is gone forever.”

“…What?”

Fiona smirked. “I do believe there’s nothing wrong with your hearing.”

“This I must see for myself.”

A/N: I suck again! Sorry for the long delay before this chapter. Life has just totally gotten away from me lately.

Stay tuned for Chapter 38—“Bring Back the Light”, in which Rumplestiltskin finally figures out his magic, the Apprentice visits the Dark Castle with predictable results, Bae and Beans run into Flynnigan Rider, Gaston and Hook go looking for help to “save” Belle, and Madam Faustina realizes something.

#a different fate #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #redeemed rumplestiltskin #no more dark one #accidential redemption

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shiyo · 3 years

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Disney Princess Challenge #03 - Settling In

SHIYO IN THE AREA! On today's episode, things have gotten fairly better for Snow White and his dwarfs. Nevertheless, drama is not too far away from his family...

As a side task for myself, I also decided to complete everyone's Aspiration before posting. But I won't get too technical here — today's focus is the story. The DRAMA!

— x —

Let's open this post with a birthday! Bryant grew up and his name was changed to Sneezy Dwarf. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to pick the Clumsy trait, so I assigned Squeamish instead.

Days later, the twins Clara and Dwayne grew up! Even though I maximized all of Clara's skills first, I wanted to age up both at the same day. That's what twins are supposed to do!

Clara became Sleepy Dwarf, getting the Lazy trait; her brother became Happy Dwarf, getting the Glutton trait.

And finally, Krystle grew up, becoming an Erratic child! Her name was changed to Dopey.

Good, they all grew up! But the havoc has already been made on the manor.

Unable to cope with all the chaos left on his house, Snow White sold EVERYTHING and moved to a brand new house designed specifically for them — made by myself for my own sims (*coughs*).

Three individual rooms for each girl, and two shared rooms for the boys. Snow White’s room is upstairs. To avoid messing things up, I locked each room so only its specific owners could enter and use the beds/bathrooms. Fantastic!

Since it hasn't been decided yet which boy will use the crystal shoes in the next stage of this challenge, so for now, all four of them share the tasks of cleaning up stuff!

Ah, yes. Now life has quite a peaceful pace for Snow White. Despite that, he has became somewhat depressed. The only ones capable of making him smile are the dwarfs.

This was actually because of the People Person lifestyle, but let's imagine all the traumatic experiences he has gone through so far also had a role on letting him down.

Hm... Snow White hasn't been in touch with his long-distance wife for so long, too... It was time for a reunion!

Snow White called Princess Charming and asked her on a date in the ruins of a castle.

I have to confess, I actually felt bad for Snow White here. He was very invested on his date, and super happy to see his loved one again... But Elena was somewhat distant. Way more interested on her phone than paying attention to Snow White's words (I'm serious, she got distracted SEVERAL TIMES while Snow White was talking to her).

Nevertheless, Snow White didn't even notice Elena's weird behavior. Being close to her was everything that mattered for him that night. They even had another date right after hanging out at the ruins! (And that was how I completed his Soulmate aspiration. 😎)

A brand new day rises up! The seven dwarfs decided to hang out together in a cafe after school.

Splitting up from the group, Doc and Grumpy spotted their mother receiving a gift from a suspiciously friendly individual.

The man's two equally suspicious sons, Drizell and Anastasius, noticed they were spying on the scene and approached them to talk. Despite the dwarfs not being in a good mood, the suspicious kids gave them good news: Elena and the suspicious man were just friends. So no need to overthink what they have seen!

Meanwhile, Bashful and Sneezy were suddenly approached by a very friendly man who's roughly around their father's age. Yeah, those two shouldn't be talking to a random stranger like that, but it was hard to resist such a charismatic and good-looking folk! Some people could even say he's the fairest of them all...

Sleepy took a lazy nap in the chair, and Dopey started talking to herself outta nowhere. Feeling abandoned, Happy returned home.

Just as he arrived, he found Snow White sad! After comforting his father, they strengthened their familial bonds talking about life.

Like, about how life was starting to become hard again! Living with the retirement money wasn't enough to keep paying the bills in a regular basis. Because of this, Snow White even started selling the rights of all the books he had previously written for fun...

In other hand, life wasn’t only tears... The dwarfs were so focused on improving their grades, they started a friendly competition to see who would become the top A student first.

(I scattered all of their projects on the house's corridors and, after completing the seven projects of the following screenshot, they chose — with full autonomy enabled — to either work on more projects or ignore them forever.)

In this good-grade race, Bashful won first place, Dopey got the second place, and Sneezy stayed on third! Congrats to those dwarfs, they definitely deserved it.

WAIT WAIT! Where's the drama I promised?! Hm... Let’s just skip to the next week, shall we?

While hanging out with her new friend — whose name was Marcus Tremaine — Elena had a very awkward surprise. He tried to flirt several times! There’s no way she would give in to his attempts, though. Elena was monogamous and loyal to her hubby.

Embarrassed and enraged, Tremaine vowed to find her husband and completely destroy that marriage. Even if that meant getting rid of him... Forever.

Meanwhile, the Evil King found out through Grumpy where Snow White's home was. He waited until the dwarfs went to school and tried to pay a visit.

Surprised to see him outside, Snow White didn't unlock the door. Filled with pain, he stared at the other man, wondering how stranded did they paths become...

I kinda want to write down a dialogue so that's what I'm doing

“You...”

“Hello, Snow White.”

“Get lost! After betraying my trust and kicking me out, how dare you even try to get near me?! You're a selfish gold-digger bastard and I wish to never see you again. You broke my heart and soul, and stepped on it without mercy... So evil...”

“If I became evil, it was because of you. We were best friends... Why couldn't you be happy for me?”

“My dad died and the first thing you did was flirt with my mom! A-and I thought w-we...”

“Open your eyes, Snow White. You were the one who betrayed me. I needed your support the most -- my best friends' support -- and yet you kept throwing tantrums against me. You kept saying to my own wife that I was only interested on her money!”

“And that was just the truth! Can you deny?!”

“Regardless of it, your mother was happy and I was, too. Did you think it didn't hurt to see you sad because of me? Spreading that depressing aura, poisoning everyone around you... Even my brother fell for it... It enraged me. You, who used to always make me smile, got in the way of my happiness. I seriously tried to endure your tantrums -- I liked you too much -- but you simply became insufferable, so I kicked you out. And still... I came here to apologize. To say I'm sorry for not trying harder... Because I missed you a lot. I missed my best friend.”

“Hey, Adven... I... kinda missed you too...”

“Does this mean we are in the same page now?”

*checks the challenge rules* oh... OH........ EVIL KING ISN’T A STRANGER NOR AN ELDERLY MAN.

Snow White rushed outside to hug his former best friend in an act of forgiveness. The two decided to part their ways in peace, no more animosity between them.

Shortly after Adven left, another visitor knocked on Snow White’s door. A man who claimed to be sent by Princess Charming to deliver a special dish to Snow White... Pufferfish Nigiri!

WAIT... PUFFERFISH NIGIRI?!

For those who don’t know, Pufferfish Nigiri is a deadly meal from the City Living EP. Snow White is on danger!

Thankfully, Snow White never answers the doors for strangers or elderly men. A literal case of “not today, satan”!

For the next episode... Will Mr. Tremaine give up on trying to destroy Princess Charming's marriage?!

— x —

VOTE ON THIS LINK

DECIDE WHICH OF THOSE DWARFS WILL BECOME CINDEREL

RESULTS WILL BE REVEALED ON THE NEXT POST!

— x —

Disclaimers:

A cheat was used to build the new house: bb.moveobjects

No other cheats were used for Snow White's household.

MCCC was used to:

• Keep that stunning vampire eye color on the Tremaine family without them being necessarily vampires.

• Set up Marcus' job and Elena's job for the story.

• Make Marcus enraged.

• Control sims from other households, in order to help me take better screenshots of all the situations that were happening. (I had a lot of trouble with random NPCs on the cafe who constantly tried to interact with the dwarfs or get in front of them to order a drink. GO AWAY U CREEPY SIMS!!!)

— x —

Trivia:

• Despite everything that happened on the previous episode, all seven dwarfs get a positive moodlet from “remembering a good toddlerhood” every now and then.

• For now, all boys have light blue clothes because any of them might become the Cinderella man. REMEMBER TO VOTE ON THE POLL!

#ts4 disney princess challenge

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