#he had a fascination for a form of magic we don't have evidence of him ever using and yet people hate him for it to THIS day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lizthewriter · 4 months

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as the banks begin to break / sirius black

PAIRING adult!sirius black x forensic analyst!reader

SUMMARY you run the blood analysis for another mystery body - perfectly healthy, no suggestion of how the person died. it was frustrating going back to your boss with nothing. another mystery. and then, you're much too fed up with the feds taking away your stiffs. you take it upon yourself to investigate the mystery of this body further.

"magic can't be real, it's just not physically possible! there are rules and -"

sirius stared up at you from the ground. you stared down at him. though, instead of a human standing there, it was a dog.

"what the fuck."

TAGS adult!sirius black x forensic analyst!reader, mystery fic???, (3) question marks, idk i thought the concept for this was cool and wrote it because why not, intrigue, reader obviously DOES NOT believe in magic, harry potter and the deathly hallows

QUOTE "too tempting not to touch, / but even though it shocked you, / something's electric in your blood," - various storms and saints by florence + the machine

WORD COUNT 3.6K

WRITTEN 1.6.2024

you -

hey, boss wants you to run blood analysis on this john doe we got earlier today. ran his fingerprints through the system, but we came up with nothing. he doesn't expect for you to get a hit, but he wants you to try anyways. i faxed you the preliminary report. send boss your results asap. see you tommorow!

you listened back to the message on your machine before getting to analyzing the blood sample left on your desk. your dear friend and the medical examiner on your team, james, had examined another one of those odd stiffs this morning. dead, but for some reason, no one could figure out how. there had been dozens, if not more than a hundred, in the past two years like this one. more on record in the last century, but the precinct hasn't seen numbers like these since world war two.

this paticular victim was different than the others, however. all other bodies had been identifiable - meaning the police was able to figure out who had died and notify next of kin. this one wasn't - no form of i.d, no money (other than some odd gold and silver coins, most likely worthless), no fingerprints in their databases. you probably wouldn't get a hit on the dna, but you could try.

there was another reason this john doe was fascinating. despite the fact that it seemed like he fell off a building, the preliminary report showed that he recieved the injury post-mortem. james' examination of the body concluded that he must have fallen more than forty stories, but the buildings nearby were less than five stories.

dead bodies don't just fall out of the sky.

you ran the dna profile you had through the national dna database - and surprisingly, you had a pop-up on your screen.

paternal match - scott constance moody

"born august 17, 1912, relations, history, blah blah blah, arrested for public drunkness and indecency on multiple occasions . . . last known address."

the door to your lab slammed open - in anticipation, you immediately closed the file and turned off your computer.

"have any evidence for us this time?" at this point it had become routine. thompson from "mi5" would whisk away the bodies, claiming something ridiculous like "drug deal gone wrong" or "national security risk," looking and acting very much like someone working for a secret government agency trying to hush-hush a deeper plot afoot.

"nope," you responded with an attempt at a solemn expression. "unfortunately, the blood analysis was a dead end. he's just some guy, i suppose."

"we appreciate your discretion," he responded, shaking your hand firmly. you mean you appreciate me not complaining to the other guys at the precinct. certainly is suspicious that an odd-looking fed comes taking dead bodies as much as he does. even if you were to raise suspicions, who would believe you? you were a female nerd practically living in a back closet while the big, strong men handled the real world. he left with nothing else to say.

you turned your computer back on and opened the file again. you scribbled down the address and just as you were about to leave, you looked back down at the dna profile for doe and found something g peculiar. an odd gene marker you had only ever seen a few times before - including your own blood. you drew the profile closer to you, staring down at it. you had never been able to figure out what it was. six years of higher education had taught you nothing and the fancy, hot-shot professors you had take a look couldn't even understand what they were looking at.

what is up with this guy?

you knocked on the front door to an old house, out in the country. pastures of green painted in the skyline, cows and barns littering the landscape beyond it. beautiful, quiet, humble. a very fitting place for an eighty-four year old man.

you saw someone glance through curtains in a window. they disappeared soon after and didn't answer the door. you knocked again and pulled out your police badge. "scott moody? london police, i need to speak with you." you hoped your tone seemed formidable enough. you weren't a cop, you were a forensic scientist, but you needed to speak with him. you needed to understand these dead bodies and the only way to do that was to investigate this moody guy.

finally, the door swung open, and a rather gruff and grumpy man answered. "will you stop that racket? what the hell do you want, girlie?"

you drew in a breath. what should you tell him? you didn't want to lie - that felt cruel. but at the same time, you could suddenly understand why your colleagues seemed so drained after sharing the terrible news to family members. the pressure weighing your stomach was sickening.

"i'd like to ask you some questions about your son, mr. moody. do you mind if i come in?"

"yes, i very much do mind! what's someone like youse interest in my alastor?"

"alastor . . . sir, i'm very sorry to tell you this, but . . . well -"

"out with it, girl!"

"your son died. approximately at twelve forty-five last night. the circumstances of his death are rather . . . under investigation. i just need to gather more information, to find out who killed him."

the man looked genuinely concerned (which suprised you slightly, considering how rude he was) and took a shocked step back. he glanced back inside his own house and then at you. "there's nothing you can do," he said weakly, then shutting the door in your face. you shouted for the man, pounding on his door, but got no response. in a huff, you stormed back to your car and slumped in the driver's seat. you ran a hand down your face - how could you ever think that you could be an investigator? you? you laughed at yourself - so full of yourself, you were neck deep in your own shit. never were you to pull a stunt like this again, not if you wanted to get fired.

as you started the car and swung your gaze around to back out of the driveway, you caught the man sitting out the side window, tying a note to a - was that an owl?

perhaps he was sending a message to someone - through an owl, like a homing pigeon. you had only one instinct.

follow the owl.

driving through the chaos known as the london streets while chasing a bird was a nightmare, but somehow you managed. here you stood, looking out upon a charming old row of houses. the bird had flew to one in the middle, the exterior bricks blackened compared to the crisp pastel orange of the other houses. someone opened the window, letting the owl in, and then closed the window.

you decided to sit there and wait. wait and wait and wait. for what, you didn't know. for the owl to come back out? for you to build up the guts to knock on the front door with very many questions? no, that was a bad idea. who knows who is in that house, what they're doing. so you waited for someone to come out and luckily, they did. a man with long, black hair strutted elegantly down the steps to the front door and down the road. you got out of your car and decided to follow him.

you don't know what had gotten into you recently. the million questions swirling through your head had apparently begged enough to be answered that you just had to oblige, no matter the consequences. the man was dressed rather odd, you noticed. a grape-colored velvet suit with tailcoats, a mustache like your grandfather had worn. he dressed like a man out of time.

when he stopped walking, you stopped. when he started again, you were right on his ass (well, feet away, but still). he took a laise through a farmer's market, glancing around himself a few times before leaving without buying a single thing. he walked down the road and turned into an alleyway. naive as you were, you followed him and found the alleyway empty. only trash littered the ground.

stepping forward, you peeked behind dumpsters and other barriers of the sort. deciding that he must have disappeared somehow, you turned around with a sigh . . . only to be shoved up against the wall by the very man you had been following.

you had two first impressions of the man. the first was that, now that you could observe him up close, you noticed that he was devilishly handsome. the second was that he had a stick pointed at your throat and seemed rather impressed with himself for it.

"you have about ten seconds to explain why you're following me, hm?" his hands were gripped around the fabric of your collar shirt, bunching up the neatly ironed cotton. so much for looking polished. "who are you? fudge's minon? death eater?"

"i'm a member of the police - if you'd only give me a moment to show you my badge -"

"not a chance," he responded, pressing the stixk further into your neck. really, is that supposed to intimidate me? you thought in annoyance. "who are you really?"

"i'm telling the truth."

"how did you find me?"

"i followed you from that house on grimmauld place."

"how do you know about that?"

"following the homing pigeon - well, owl - that scott moody sent."

not only did he seem cautious, but nervous now. "did dumbledore send you?" he asked dubiously.

"i honestly have no idea who that is." memorable name like that, you'd definitely remember him. no, he seemed to be quite odd to you.

"why were you following me?"

you sighed. "i'm invesitgating the death of alastor moody."

although a sadness washed over the man's face, there was something behind his expression that said he already knew. he placed the stick back into the inner pocket of his coat. "you said you were police?" you nodded.

"so you're a muggle," he mumbled. was muggle some new slang term for cop? you didn't know and even more, you didn't care. then, a realization spread over his face.

sirius -

it shouldn't be possible - if you were a muggle, how could you see grimmauld place? because of the many peotective enchantments and ancient runes safeguarding the black house, only those who were wizards should be able to see it. yet, you had watched him walk right out the front door.

"you - you're looking into moody death?" he asked. he supposed it made sense. no one knew during the battle where they fighting high in the air - it was the heat of the moment after all. it only makes sense that muggle police got to his body first. still, he couldn't understand how you could have seen the house of black.

"his case is part of an ungoing investigation into the dozens of deaths of citizens across greater britain in the past two years." ah. so the muggles were catching on to voldemort's dirty work.

"let me guess. they were all perfectly healthy, showed no signs of deah whatsoever?" he asked. of course the muggles were going insane about it. people dying left and right without them even knowing what, or who, was causing it.

"yes, how did you -"

"just a hunch," he shrugged in response to your shocked expression.

"if you know something, you must tell me," you said rather firmly, though it seemed you were under the delusion that you had any sort of authority over him. your tone was not as strong as you may have liked.

"i'm afraid i cannot -"

"cannot what?" you barked back - now that had some bite. his interest was peaked now - what had your wand in a knot? "there are people dying. these dead bodies keep showing up with no sign as to how they died. moody aparently just fell from the sky! dead bodies don't just fall from the sky," you told him with an incredulous laugh. "now you are going to tell me everything you know about these bodies, or i swear on the bloody royal throne itself that i'll - i'll - get it out of you!"

you -

"you cannot just bring some muggle girl - if she really is a muggle - into our headquarters! are you barking mad? and don't you dare make another one of your mutt jokes or on merlin's grave i will -"

"that's quite enough, andromeda," responded a rather polite and calming male voice. there was a murmur and the same man let out a sigh. "at least let the man speak first."

"fine!"

"she saw grimmauld place, she knows about moody! she didn't bloody well seem like one of voldemort's spies, she didn't even know what 'death eater' meant. besides, what was i supposed to do? let her go blabbering to other muggles about this?"

"you could obliviate her."

"i would, if i had ever learned how. besides, it's not ethical, taking away someone's memories like that."

"this is war, black - desperate times call for desperate measures."

"now why don't you get back to shoving your greasy nose down some potions notes, snivellus, and let us grown-ups -"

"you arrogant -"

there was a sudden clammer of noise, the sound of several falling to the ground and pots and pans banging all over the place. a loud thwip! and sudden silence. "stop it! the both of you! has anyone actually bothered to question her?"

there was another round of silence before the door in front of you creaked open. the man who had pinned you up in the alley, black he had been called, looked rather dismal as he invited you into the room.

after your little speech, he requested you joined him in his house. well, you were not expecting the dustiest, blackest house you had ever seen. the entry hall was so thin, you could practically feel the walls caressing your arms. you waited in the entrance hall, outside the door to the kitchen, while he talked with his . . . friends? their conversation was all very confusing, talks of war and the like. were they also part of some secret agency? you weren't sure so you remained cautious.

"hello," you said to all those in the room, your voice trembling nervously. there were six others littered across the room. a rather dreadful looking man in the corner, with a hooked nose. he looked at you with distaste. black stood at the end of the table, his palms planted onto the table. another woman with hair almost as black as the walls, who sighed at your entrance. another man, scars barraging his face, with rather kind eyes. a man with umber skin, dressed in deep blue robes decorated with silver. and finally, a redhaired woman with a rag thrown over her shoulder, a knife in hand as she stood near a cutting board.

"hello," said the scarred-man, a warm smile making your shoulders sag a bit in . . . relief? comfort? "do you mind introducing yourself?"

you revealed your badge to all and recitind your name. "i'm a forensic analyst for the london police," you recited for the third time that day. "earlier this morning, the body of alastor moody was discovered. aside from the head injury he sustained from - well, we're not exactly sure - he seemed perfectly healthy. our medical examiner has concluded that he sustained the injury after his death. as of this morning, his body was taken by an operative of a secret government agency. there have been dozens of other bodies like this over the past couple of years. i've taken it upon myself to investigate this . . . occurence. this morning i tracked down moody's father, who sent a courier - owl - here."

"and is that everything?" black asked with an arched brow, as though he thought you were hiding something. which, ot be fair, you kind of were, but it was a small, unimportant detail and rather ridiculous really. just an irrational price of science that most likely had no relevance to the murders or perhaps a suggestion towards a broken coder in your lab - "well is it?"

you hesitated to answer but felt rather intimidated by the people surrounding you. perhaps sharing everything would be ideal, even if they thought you were barking mad. "well, erm - there's this one thing. do you know what dna is, mr. black?"

black shook his head and the others looked rather confused.

"i do," the scarred man spoke. "remus. a pleasure."

you gave him a polite nod in response. "a blood sample is taken from every body that goes through the police, and we run it through our systems and upload it to a database. moody had a gene marker in his dna - an odd one. one that shouldn't be there."

remus tilted his head, indulging you. "i've had old professors look at his results, even after I reran them. they thought something was wrong with the data. that i should run it again. but i know it wasn't wrong . . . i have the same gene marker in my dna. i'm not mad. it means something. even if others can't see it."

remus looked puzzled for a moment, but as a hazy look crossed his eyes, you could see his demeanor change rather swiftly. he straightened up, and glanced towards sirius with his mouth agape.

"what is it remus?" sirius asked with concern.

"i think that she's found a muggle's way . . . to prove the existence of magic."

sirius -

no. it couldn't be possible. it simply wasn't. if remus was right, if what he said was true, not only did this mean there were rather heinous repercussions for the wozarding world, but . . . you would be in danger.

suddenly, snape stood up from his chair rather suddenly, his eyes latched onto you. his hands still wrapped around the arms of the chairs, gripping them so tightly his knuckles were white. "everyone except sirius and the girl . . . out. now!"

the others were reluctant to leave the room, but they all filed out eventually. dumbledore trusted snape, even ordered snape to kill him, so they all would have to trust snape . . . even if sirius didn't want to.

snale turned his poisonous gaze on you. "sit down."

you followed his instructions, though cautiously, and took the closest seat next to sirius. sirius hoped that implied there was some level of trust between you two, seeing as you'll need it since he couldn't let you leave grimmauld place. "while it seems you haven't been filled in, i find that i cano that rather quickly for you. magic is real and a select number of individuals can possess it - you must be among those people, seeing as only those who are magical can see this house. there has been a wizarding war for over the past three decades, lead by a man named voldemort. the goal of him and his death eaters are to kill or otherwise enslave all those who are non-magical, also known as muggles. do you understand?"

you seemed to be flabbergasted by the assault of information and it's implications, and though you were slow to believe, you simply nodded your head. sirius placed his hand on the back of your chair, protectively, almost territorially.

"snape -"

"do shut your mouth black," snape spat. "a seer, or a prophet as muggles might know them, made a prophecy not long ago. the chosen one becomes the chosen two when eighth month approaches. for someone undesireable as any, she will be hunted down like the dog. she has discovered something no muggle should know. the power to vanquish the dark lord rests in the hand of fate - and should that hand choose to vanquish her, all hope of defeating the dark lord is lost."

"snape, what in the devil's name -"

"do not interrupt me, you -"

"no!" sirius exclaimed, slamming the goblet he was holding down on the table. wine spilled out from the cup, dripping down the rusted golden edge. "that is quite enough. i'm sure our guest has gone through enough the past day. she is famished and tired. let her rest and perhaps then we can discuss whatever nonsense you're blabbering on about."

sirius turned towards you with a softer expression and gestured for you to follow him out. you glanced back at snape, he noticed, if just for a moment. but soon enough, the two of you were in the foyer sitting across from each other.

your head was buried between the palms of your hand - it was obvious that you were distressed. "are you all right?" sirius asked softly.

"all right?" you asked, glancing up at him, your tone incredulous. "all right? no, no, i am just fine. you know, I just found out magic is real and there's some wizard war going on that no one knows about. yeah, this isn't news to me at all! you know, i get to work flying around on my little witch broom like everyone else! no i'm not all right!"

"we actually do use brooms as a model of transportation, that's not a myth," sirius told you, rather factually. you didn't seem very amused by his short educational bit. "look, i know this is overwhelming -"

"why should I even believe you?" you asked, tone rising in volume, though more out of worry than anger. "i mean something inexplicable could explain moody's death, but magic? magic can't be real, it's just not physically possible! there are rules and -"

sirius stared up at you from the ground. you stared down at him. though, instead of a human standing there, it was a dog.

"what the fuck."

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #harry potter #— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]

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simplytheevebest · 2 years

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Farah the Fern AU: It's Official ❤️ Masterlist Included

*off key kazoo*

Here we go! By popular demand I present to you the first chapter of the Farah the Fern AU.

Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has commented and reblogged and liked my posts about this silly little idea, I'm glad it's bringing such joy in this trying time.

Shamelessly tagging everyone who's interacted with those posts: @somenamewithepineapple @thomasine00 @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @travelingtardis @thebloodpit @setsuna1415 @ferratic @veritaserum07 @captdorkybadass @eves-da-best @alexusonfire @muscatmusic18 @evebestt @faytalepsy @evermoreparadise @astrid-v @abearofverylittlebrain @radley21 @nerd-law @icecream-junkie @quicktypesomethingclever @fuelingobsessions

If I missed you and you wish to be tagged, let me know. If I tagged you and you don't want to be, also let me know. I will be posting chapters on Ao3 but I will also post them here and update this original post with links to the new ones. Almost all "chapters" will be unconnected unless I specify otherwise.

Enjoy!

Part One (you are here). Part Two. @icecream-junkie's excellent contribution. Part Three. Angsty Part Four. Part Five. @ghostsunderstoodmysoul's excellent Farah x Reader contribution. @belligerent-butterfly's Farah the Fern inspired Farah x Reader. @icecream-junkie's second excellent contribution. @arte-mis-t's Farah the Fern inspired Farah x Reader (chapter 2). @icecream-junkie's NSFW Silrah contribution. @astrid-v's amazing fanart.

Chapter One: A New Trick

The cactus, Saul can only assume, is not proving as effective or satisfactory for Farah to express her displeasure anymore. It’d been a short-lived parlor trick anyhow, since he’s learned to look her way before reaching blindly. She’d taken great enjoyment in that first time, when he’d felt for the delicate fronds of the fern, only to find his fingers instead pierced by the spines of a prickly pear, because he’d made a quip about her current state being much easier to manage than her hair.

All jokes aside, it’s an incredible feat of her restored magic that she’s able to change to whatever plant species she pleases, though she defaults to the fern that saved her life, or the “pleopeltis polypodioides,” as Ben had said, “a fascinating epiphytic fern native to climates of-”

And that’s when Saul had stopped listening. Farah’s a fern: that’s all he needs to know. Except now, she’s not just a fern. She’s whatever she wants to be, for whatever reason she chooses. He learns she’s spending too much time with Flora -dedicated to the task of restoring the headmistress to her corporeal form, bless her- because her plant swaps hold meaning now, a language Saul never bothered learning but now has to, so he knows why Farah had chosen to be a petunia for Luna’s latest visit. (Which according to the archaic volume he’d borrowed from the library, could be construed either as peace or resentment, depending on who the recipient is. Saul has no misgivings about which meaning Farah intended for the Solarian royal).

But Saul doesn’t have the time to cross-reference the subtext of every plant Farah chooses to be, which Farah knows all to well, having no choice but to sit on the edge of her own desk and watch him sort through reams and reams of the paperwork meant to be for her perusal. He’s ashamed to admit he’d had no idea she’d taken on such a taxing load of work on her own, though he’s also not surprised, and irritated mostly with himself for believing her when she’d insisted there was “nothing” for him to do as headmaster outside of training the specialists. Farah is evidently equally as unwilling to let him take on even a fraction of the workload, let alone all of it, in her absence, and she expresses her displeasure the best way she knows how, because Saul doesn’t need to look up any sort of secondary meaning to know she intends the cactus to act as visual proof of her disgruntlement.

But that’s all it is: visual. The plants she chooses to masquerade as are limited to the size of the original pot, so he isn’t contending with a forty pound cactus threatening to skewer his writing-hand for daring to do his job. The prickly pear is barely larger than his hand, an adorable manifestation of her ire like a yappy little dog imagining itself a rottweiler. Which he would never, ever say to her face, because on any other day of the week, she is the rottweiler, which he supposes might make him the yappy little dog. On second thought, maybe he’ll tuck that one away for a time when she’s upset with him. It’ll make her smile, even if he’s still destined for the dog house (ha).

But as a plant stuck in a pot, there’s only so much she can do. She can’t extend the spines of the cactus far enough to poke at him, so he’s in no danger of incurring her wrath any worse. She’ll hold onto guilt, but she won’t hold a grudge.

The ghost of a grin twitches at the corners of Saul’s mouth as he catches the change out of the corner of his eye, the frilly fronds of the fern shrinking into the smooth skin of the cactus, barbs prominent and angry. He mark his signature on an inventory sheet with more of a flourish than is obviously necessary, setting it aside with deliberate nonchalance. The cactus grows as large as Farah dares, barbs incapable of reaching him but not afraid of trying.

“Sorry,” Saul remarks cheerfully, “Don’t speak plant. I couldn’t tell you what you want, but I’ve got to get back to this paperwork.”

This time, the cactus shrinks, pityingly small and unassuming. Saul stacks the inventory sheets off to the side, tucked safely in a manila folder to be squirreled away between the rest of the filing cabinets’ neat rows in Farah’s outer office.

“Don’t pout,” he chides, “It’s your own fault really, you shouldn’t have been doing this all on your own anyway. We’re co-heads of school, I’m not your deputy. You can give me the work and I’ll do it.”

He gets no response, not even visual, so Saul considers the matter settled. He carries on with the paperwork without further interruption for at least another half an hour before he becomes consciously aware of the irritation in his nose, a tickling not placated by rubbing or sniffling that grows worse the longer he sits there. He’ll admit, he’s behind in his taking-over of Farah’s weekly clean of her office, but surely it can’t be that dusty? Not even the volumes on her tallest shelves had been caked with dust as he’d expected, their height a natural deterrent to a proper dusting. No, Farah is nothing if not thorough, in all areas of her life. He glances at her pot, out of habit more than anything, and visible starts, jolting back away from the desk and the insidious infernal plant Farah’s chosen to become.

“Oh that’s very mature,” he gripes, tone a mix of congestion and the roughness of a scratchy throat, allergies ravaging his senses as she knows they always do. Ragweed.

“Very mature,” he repeats, doing as she intended and abandoning the paperwork for when she’s done throwing a tantrum.

“I’ll be back when you can act like an adult,” he threatens. “And I’ll put Riven in charge of you, don’t think I won’t.”

He won’t. He’s bluffing, and they both know it.

Insufferable woman.

#farah the fern #eve best #fate the winx saga #ftws #fate winx saga #fate: the winx saga #farah dowling #saul silva #rob james collier #silrah #farah x saul #farah dowling x saul silva #fate fanfic #long post

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littlemisssquiggles · 4 years

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Hello! Long time no see! I read your Cinder the Red Queen theory, and it's really cool! Cinder is one of my favorite characters (even if I don't watch RWBY anymore) and it would be really awesome to see Cinder play a really big role, besides "revenge on Ruby". Although, I am personally more of a Cinder Redemption Arc fan. So, hypothetically, if Cinder were to get one such redemption arc, how do you think it would play out?

Hiya Yellow! Yeah it has been a while. Sorry I took so long to get back to you. Slowly working through my backlog of posts inside my inbox. Anyways, how have you been fam? And in the literal immortal words of one Oscar Pine, wait…WHAT! When did you stop watching RWBY? ! D8

What happened? If you don’t mind me asking, how come you’re not watching anymore? Is it because you just fell out of love with the series as a whole after being disappointed with its current direction or did all the discourse surrounding the show (and by extension RT as well) drive you to stop?

Sad to hear you’re no longer in the FNDM man. But on a different note, allow me to say thank you! Knowing that you’re a Cinder fan, I’m happy to hear that you liked my Red Queen headcanon for her. Much appreciated.

And yes, I do remember you being an advocate for Cinder’s redemption as well. In response to writing a Cinder redemption arc, I’m gonna be frank.

Given the way the canon has portrayed Cinder’s character, both in previous seasons and currently, redemption is still the last thing I can envision for your favourite Fall Maiden m’dude. I’ve never seen Cinder getting redeemed as a possibility since to me, the show hasn’t shown enough evidence of her being empathetic to anyone else other than herself to make me believe there’s a chance for her to change for the greater good.

The only way I can picture Cinder going is either she is given the Adam Taurus treatment---unceremoniously killed off despite the series keeping her relevant to the story for so long or…Cinder survives long enough to rise up and see herself becoming the all-powerful entity she desires to be---ultimately walking out of Salem’s shadow to overthrow her and replace her as the Red Queen and succeeding within a short time what Salem has failed to do for centuries---thrusting Remnant into utter anarchy in the form of a second Great War sparked by one of the kingdoms (possibly Mistral) declaring war against the remaining three kingdoms hoping to conquer them all after learning that the great Atlas Kingdom has fallen along with the former Mantle.

One kingdom to rule them all and this was all done through Cinder puppeteering her pawns in the Mistral Council through her newly awakened abilities after finally succumbing to the Geist Grimm and becoming something more than human--- a Grimm with a soul and a conscience. A Grimm-human hybrid or Grimmoire as I’d like to say.

Instead of being redeemed, I more favour the idea Cinder becoming a bigger threat to Remnant than Salem who I peg would be defeated, purified of her darkness (courtesy of Ruby’s silver eyes) and stripped of any magic that she had, courtesy of Cinder betraying her.

Cinder’s whole “…Without you, I am nothing” statement from the trailer is just giving me huge red flags for her to eventually realize that she can probably do better than Salem without her holding her back. The student does eventually become the master, right? So why not expect Cinder to replace Salem as the main big antagonist of RWBY with her reign being the true threat of Remnant in a time of war?

I really, really like the idea of the main conflict of RWBY not being the war with Salem but the rise of Cinder Fall and the second Great War of Remnant. I think such a plotline would be cool especially looking back on the fact that Oz had told General Ironwood that he prayed that his students---the children whose futures and development were entrusted to him---would never have to face the pains and strife of war like his predecessor: King Phadrig of Vale, once did long ago.

It would actually be very compelling to watch our heroes attempting to survive a dire time when the world was divided with two of its founding kingdoms in shambles while one tried to conquer them all (Mistral) and another daring to defend them all (Vacuo). The first Great War lasted ten years. Imagine if…it were the same for the second with time fast-forwarding to another period ten years later when all of our young heroes were now grown adults. No longer naïve children enamoured by the huntsmen lifestyle but seasoned warriors doing what they could to help the people in a dark world where war raged, humanity pleaded for their salivation and the Grimm feasted.

That could’ve been nice. But…I’m getting ahead of myself here. I’m not sure if anything like that will actually happen in the show. Still it’s good to share the idea around.

Going back to Cinder, like I said---right now I can’t see a redemption arc for Cinder.

As I said, the core reason why I’ve never been for Cinder being a redeemable character is due to the fact that up until this point, the series has done very little to establish her having any positive qualities. Cinder has sadly been selfish through and through making it very clear multiple occasions that she’s only out for herself. For me to have pictured Cinder to be a redeemable character, the series would’ve need to introduce a sort of “buffer character”---for lack of a better term. Basically when I say a buffer character, I mean in terms of a character who could’ve acted as a sort of foil to Cinder---seeing through her power-hungry nature and faults and thus revealing to the audience a much more relatable, sympathetic and emotionally vulnerable side to her through her relationship with said buffer.

The best example of this type of dynamic for me in an animated media is the relationship between Prince Zuko and his Uncle Iroh from Avatar the Last Airbender. In that series, Iroh was Zuko’s buffer character---the one person who saw through Zuko’s acts of aggression and appealed to the side of him that was just a insecure young man lacking any real support in his life and wanting nothing more than to do his best to appease an abusive father just so that he can feel a sense of belonging in the world.

It was through his bond with his uncle that I, as a viewer, was able to believe in Zuko’s redemption arc since it was only with Iroh did we see a more open side to Zuko---the side that reminded us that outside of his status as Prince of the Fire Nation leading the charge to capture the Avatar---outside of that, Zuko was only a boy in need of guidance. Guidance that Iroh attempted to provide him on multiple occasions.

Going back to Cinder, this is what I would have needed to make her redeemable. Give her a character who is the only one to see her more vulnerable side. Using what we know about the series, I’d say Emerald Sustrai could’ve easily been Cinder’s buffer. In the show, RWBY already established Cinder as a sort of motherly/sister figure based on Emerald’s perception of her.

Through Emerald, the show could’ve used her close ties with Cinder to show a side to her that we often don’t see. A side that actually cares for Emerald or at least better fools Emerald (and by extension us as the audience) into thinking that she cares. Ironically enough, the show could’ve had Cinder mirror Salem in this regard.

The reason why I’m more of an advocate for Salem’s redemption over Cinder is because UNLIKE Cinder, the show has given me moments of Salem being genuinely kind and caring to others. We saw this with the way she loved Ozma and would’ve done anything to get him back before her self-interest and hatred toward the Brother Gods consumed her.

We saw this in the Lost Fable and to some degree, even though she is another pawn to her, I’d like to think that the way Salem treats Cinder is akin to a mother. My issue with Salem isn’t that she is incapable of caring about others, it’s that no matter what, she will never put them before herself. It will always be her first and others second. At least that’s what I interpreted and it for this reason while her curse will remain.

However at least the show has shown examples of Salem showing compassion towards other. This is something I have yet to see from Cinder Fall. To me, Cinder is lacking that side of her.

Salem is selfish but as strange as this for me to say, I don’t think she’s entirely heartless. It’s kind of complicated when it comes to Salem but this just adds onto why I find her character fascinating. This is what makes the difference for me between her and Cinder and separates the two.

Salem is selfish but is capable of empathy and a surprising amount of mercy in unexpected moments (like in the way she treats Cinder for example. Salem could’ve easily offed Cinder for her failures like how she ended Lionheart but instead she left her be. And judging from the V8 trailer, even as Cinder came grovelling back to her, Salem still seemed to mostly react to Cinder’s return with an air of a strict parent who isn’t angry at their child but more disappointed. And oddly enough she did the same thing with Tyrian back in V4)

Cinder, on the other hand, shares in Salem’s self-centred nature but lacks any kind of compassion. Cinder is heartless.

Sorry Yellow, picturing a redemption arc for Cinder Fall is tough for me, even hypothetically speaking. I mean, if the show had done something with Cinder akin to Zuko---having her gain the power and status she’s always wanted only to have it result in her losing the only good relationship she had in Emerald thus leading to her falling from grace again after realizing her mistakes---then I could see it.

Or…perhaps the show could’ve pulled an Azula type of redemption for Cinder. Have her gain the power she desired at the cost of her own humanity and she loses herself in the process, becoming a monster and realizing her mistakes too late. And in the end, despite everything she’s been through and in spite of all that she put her through, the only person to appear before Cinder in her time of death after falling from her mistakes is Emerald.

I like the irony of Emerald cradling a dying Cinder Fall, choosing even then not to hate her and remain with her until her last dying breathe as her way of finally paying her back for saving her from her former life of poverty; giving her a new sense purpose in life outside of being a street rat.

That could’ve worked, at least me. But again, this is only if the show had further developed Emerald and Cinder’s bond. I genuinely wished the show had explored more of Cinder’s ties to Emerald. This is why I wanted Emerald to be Cinder’s accomplice for Atlas instead of Neopolitan. We could’ve watched Emerald’s character grow further through her separating herself from Salem’s legion and devoting herself entirely to Cinder. We could’ve watched Cinder even entice Emerald with the prospect of her ruling beside Cinder in the new world she would’ve aided her to build for Salem.

At the end of the day, as Emerald implied back in V5, she doesn’t care that much for Salem. The only person of interest to Emerald Sustrai is Cinder so this makes me curious to see what their reunion would be like for V8. I highly doubt Salem just ups and left Emerald, Mercury and Hazel back in the Dark Domain. Unless they were sent off to Vacuo to retrieve the Sword of Destruction, they’re bound to be there with Salem inside of Grimm Monstro so I’m looking forward to seeing the look on Emerald’s face when she realizes to her dismay that in her absence, she had been replaced with Neo.

It would be interesting watching how Emerald deals with this development in addition to seeing where her story goes from here now that her beloved Cinder Fall is back with her but not really with HER, y’know what I’m saying? Perhaps this could lead to Emerald going out of her way to get back onto Cinder’s good side mirroring Cinder attempting to return to Salem’s.

“…Without you, I am NOTHING!” “…I don’t care about Salem but I owe Cinder for EVERYTHING!”

It’ll be a game of watching apprentices regain the faith of their masters as Emerald is Cinder’s apprentice while Cinder is Salem’s. This should be a fun development to observe for next season

…Sorry if I haven’t exactly answered your question Yellow. Truth be told, I don’t have much ideas for how Cinder could be redeemed. However I do stand by my points about Emerald being used to show a different side to Cinder. It’s a shame this wasn’t done much in the canon. But who knows? Maybe something might be done to change that for V8.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2020)

#squiggles anwers: rwby #cinder fall #emerald sustrai #rwby salem #rwby theories #rwby volume 8 theories #yellow-eyed-green-crocodile #squiggles answers

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