#grace sterling

[augment-techs]

running parallel lines (450 words) by CampionSayn Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Power Rangers (Boom! Comics), Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, Power Rangers Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Grace Sterling/Terona Washington Characters: Terona Washington, Grace Sterling Additional Tags: TokuShipping Week 2026, First Date, Comfort Food, Kissing Summary: TokuShipping Week 2026: Day 2 - First Date

[ajgrey9647]

Draco Deus

Summary: A 'What-If' arc where Dark Spector is defeated...just not the way everything thought. And things aren't about to get better.

The ground where Dark Spector once stood laid scorched and smoking, the aroma of sulfur and wispy bits of ash wafting on the upswell of wind that heralded the Ranger’s final ascension. His silky uniform, now a deeper viridian green, glittered as if covered in scales with every shift of lumbering muscle, the silver sheen of Gridlight veins pulsating like active lightning. A fang-lined visor that shifted in shades of red like a stoked furnace obscured his features, yet the slight tilt of his glossy helmet was more ominous than thoughtful.

Overwhelmed and exhausted from the onslaught of battle, no one could make sense of what happened, only that the territorial, psychotic son of a bitch had just made good on his promise (warning), obliterating Dark Spector in a brilliant blaze of light and guttural screams of disbelief. And because the universe insists on balance, it naturally filled the vacuum left behind a new super-powered ruler of evil.

Once again, Lord Drakkon was on par with a god, a designation he always claimed as his destiny. Not only did he wield the Dragon and White Tiger coins, but the might of the Morphin Grid, the clawed tendrils of his will consuming and devouring the remaining Good.

The surviving Rangers’ morphers crackled, splintering into crumbling slivers before the links to their power severed as the Dragon God approached them. Every clip of his boots distorting the energy field around him, his own aura palpable like a gathering stormfront. Time itself seemed to shutter and skip.

Hands clad in midnight leather gloves swept in a grand arc before the elaborate gold shield that erupted with deadly horns from his shoulders. When the tyrant spoke, his voice was low, calmly assured…

“A new deity rightfully reigns, my darlings.”

The eerie veins of light grew brighter, slithering about his limbs with growing power.

“It’s time to remake my world, but I’ll do it here…in the Prime Universe.”

Promethea was leveled, its tech and secrets under new ownership. The Command Center was gone, taking Zordon and Alpha with it. And constructed at the heart of Angel Grove, just as in the Coinless world, his immense tower with its golden dragon emblem piercing the sky, shifted into existence with a snap of his fingers.

He selected those who would become ‘family’ by hand, culling them one by one from the crowds they couldn’t hide themselves in. No defense held him at bay when the Dragon God could merely point, and they would materialize before his throne.

Drakkon recreated his closest circle, those who were once almost-friends and lovers, the ones who knew him intimately. Then, there were the ones he laid claim to, for one reason or another, but mostly because a deep sense of ‘mine’ pervaded his thoughts at the mention of their name.

The others…banished, cast out to a distant star system on one of the few hospitable planets, and only remaining alive because he kindly decided to bequeath mercy of a sort.

He sat at the head of the leviathan oak table in the banquet hall, idly swirling a scarlet wine in a crystal chalice, a formality really, as he required neither food nor drink to sustain him. It was for the atmosphere of the occasion that he held it, the light from the chandelier reflecting from his visor. A string quartet played though no band could be seen.

Gathered along each side were his chosen ones.

They were all dressed in elegant formal attire, dressed appropriately for the evening meal. Intricately decorated venetian masks, uniquely designed and adorned with the wearer in mind, covered their upper faces. Some had colorful feathers or paint, jewels, gold filigree, lace, or velvet. Silk and leather gloves laid upon their laps under linen napkins.

At Drakkon’s right sat Ranger Slayer Kimberly Hart, costumed as a crying angel in dark pink and black, her full skirt brushing his knee below the table. On his opposite side, the older Jason Scott was seated, his posture perfect in an ebony-colored military jacket over a blood red dress shirt, the mask perched across his nose resembling a feral beast.

Of course, the other, older former Rangers had a place at the table. Trini, in a mockingly sunny yellow gown, sat across from Zack, who wore a suit in black-on-black. Further down were Farkas Bulkmeier and Eugene Skullovitch, who like the Black Ranger had been freshly resurrected from a deformed lava state. For these two, whom he begrudgingly grown a measure of appreciation, Drakkon selected dark purple and a burnet orange.

But the Dragon God did not limit himself to only those experienced with his regime. The younger Prime Jason Scott sat beside his traumatized doppelganger, his fancy costume scarlet edged in gold and wearing a mask created to resemble death. Why not add the innocent twin of his treasured battle strategist/pet?

He chose Kiya, decked in blue, and Scorpina, boasting a gold, bejeweled corset, because he enjoyed a feisty spirit.  And at the end of the long table, in bright red velvet, Grace Sterling, was looking at him from behind the guise of an owl.

Drakkon sighed contentedly under his helmet, considering the people assembled around him. He turned slightly to address the elder Jason, who, like the others, wore a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Rage simmered there as his hands went through the motions of dining on the rich, flavorful pheasant and gravy.

‘I fucking hate you, asshole! I knew we shouldn’t have trusted a conniving monster like you!’

The tyrant could hear the thought whispered behind those of Jason’s mask, which continued to hiss its special poison into his mind.

‘You all knew what I really was, pet. A leopard doesn’t change its spots, does it?’

The other man’s eyes minutely widened in horror as he struggled to lift his gaze from the food on his plate.

‘Wha…’

Drakkon rolled his wrist and the mask fell silent.

‘I know everything… There’s nothing any of you can hide from me now. Your minds are no longer safe.’

He nodded once and the enchantment lessened enough for Jason to control his head. Swiftly, the creepy grin was replaced with a rabid snarl of fury.

“You goddamn motherfucker…” he started venomously.

Drakkon tapped a finger on his chalice, and the former Red Ranger’s voice became rough and strained, cutting his insult abruptly short and feeble.

“Careful now. You know I have a nasty temper,” he chided. “And terrible impulse control.”

Another simple tap.

Jason cleared his throat, the taste of greasy fowl coating his tongue and making him nauseous.

“I didn’t think you could actually do it!” he spat. “I just hoped it was more of your narcissistic grandstanding bullshit!”

He tried to fight the lifting of his arm to sip at the wine in his glass but failed. Unless he wanted to wear it, Jason had no choice except to drink the aromatic liquid.

Sputtering, he shook his head as the glass lowered back to the table.

“You’re getting your rocks off on all this control, aren’t you, you loony fuck!”

Drakkon only chuckled softly.

“Isn’t this nice though, Jason? Good food and wine…the company of friends…expensive clothes,” he purred. “Luxurious accommodations that are far better than Deadlock, I’m sure.”

He settled his chalice on the cream-colored tablecloth.

“You were wondering why I didn’t put you in another cage. I heard it when we dressed for dinner,” he murmured, reaching out to tap the front of Jason’s canine-esque mask. “I don’t have to be in the immediate vicinity to get inside. I’m already there.”

Drakkon reclined back in his chair, studying the other man’s tense features. Beside him, the former Omega smiled as he dined, his eyes equally furious and fighting the Dragon God’s control.

“Would you prefer to be locked up again? You and your ‘sweet self’? Recreating Deadlock wouldn’t be any more difficult than another snap of my fingers.”

Jason’s face tensed.

“Leave him out of this…”

‘How did you do this?’

Grace Sterling’s sharp thought intruded forcefully, the scientist picking up on the tyrant’s ominous new ability.

‘Dark Spector was the supreme entity of evil. Yet you managed to destroy him. Tell us how!’

Drakkon’s helmet swiveled in her direction at the end of the table, where she was unwillingly making light sounds of laughter at something witty Eugene had uttered under his own mental duress.

Slowly, he hefted himself from the table, purposefully moving along behind his ‘family’. Gloved fingers brushed across the back of the older Jason’s shoulders, carding the thick hair of the Prime version at his side. The sound of his boot heels echoed off the marble floor.

“I’ll humor you, Ms. Sterling. You see, it wasn’t a matter of being more powerful than Dark Spector. Well, not at the crux of it.”

His fingertips traced the line of Scorpina’s spine, Kiya’s forearm…He playfully wound a curl from Trini’s updo around the end of his glove. When he reached Grace, he paused behind her, both hands settling on her shoulders as he gazed back down the table.

“Dark Spector was motivated to win by the desire of more power, to attain that which he’d never had before. His was an offensive fight.”

A tap on Grace’s bare collarbone and the others were able to pause eating and turn their heads to look at their new god.

“As far as I’m concerned, I was defending, in a manner of speaking. Preserving my territory and what was ALREADY mine. I had more to lose, more incentive to come out on top. And, let’s face it, this was my destiny long before Dark Spector. It was written in the Grid.”

No one spoke though they now had the ability.

“I have a vast knowledge of the Grid and how it functions. Everything that’s happened was foretold. I have taken my rightful place as have all of you…”

Ranger Slayer snorted hotly.

“Not by choice, asshole! I thought maybe, just maybe, you’d learned something! That you would be different because you knew what friendship and love were! I wouldn’t have saved you if I’d known you’d turn out to be worse than HIM!”

A chilly laugh as Drakkon reached up to unclasp his helmet.

“He made the same mistake he accused others of…underestimating my determination to keep what I’m owed. So cocky and arrogant, he didn’t even see it coming!”

From behind the Dragon God visage, a youthful, unlined face appeared.

“I waited…all this time. And now I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Tommy Oliver, the new Lord Drakkon, the vaunted Ranger deity grinned, showing all his teeth.

“Don’t worry though, darlings. I’ll take much better care of you than he did…”

@augment-techs @lordkingsmith @skyland2703 @threespiritstrio @regaliasonata

[power-rangers-faves]

Red Ranger Tourney

Round 1-13

Mighty Morphin Red Ranger (Grace Sterling)

Mighty Morphin Red Ranger (Trini Kwan, 2016 comic)

Mighty Morphin Red Ranger (Jason Lee Scott)

Who is the best Red Ranger?

Grace Sterling

Trini Kwan

Jason Lee Scott

Voting ended onJul 28, 2025

[azurezfiction]

Okay Power Rangers idea

So due to time shenanigans Grace and her team end up in the future, during MMPRS3. Since technically Tommy’s team are using the coins to use for their Ninja Powers, Grace and her team can’t really use their powers to morph.

So they head to Ninjor (or Dulcea because both are valid picks~) to get their Ninja/Ninjetti powers.

That’s the idea.

[elementroar]

FINALLY SOMEONE IN-UNIVERSE SAID IT!

Like seriously, Rita Repulsa (in the main verse) ends up marrying a guy who’s at least as a old (if not older) than her own father.

Grace also got to witness Rita and Zedd’s fight in the previous issue where Rita just openly admitted she always wanted to ‘please’ Zedd and wanted his approval. Like omg, anyone could smell the daddy issues surrounding THEIR dynamic just from that alone!

Oh god, don’t make me think of Rita calling Zedd ‘daddy’, damn it Flores!

[skyland2703]

made-up fanfic title ask: bite, bite, bite, bite, bite, bite, bite, NOM + Matt, Billy, Grace, Terona, Skull (I wanna see what crawls out of this~)

.... :D

Title: bite, bite, bite, bite, bite, bite, bite, NOM

Relationships: Eugene Skullovitch & Matthew Cook & Billy Cranston, Grace Sterling/Terona Washington

Additional Tags: Crack, fluff and crack, use of drugs, pot brownies, this was all Billy's undoing, and yes that's a spoiler, Matthew Cook is gonna kill someone, ice cream, oral sex, accidental alien aquisition, matchmaking, detention, UTTER CHAOS

Summary: Grace and Terona pace across the room, staring at the three teenagers sitting in front of them. The entire room around them, the headquarter of the Promethea, is a complete mess, with every single piece of clothing imaginable, from bras to corsets to scarves to saris scattered, along with every possible food item, from cheese to lasagna to hakkah noodles, to pad thai, to sambhar vada also splayed across the walls and all over, among other things. The three teens have very strange looks on their faces.

Matt looks absolutely dazed, as if he's still under the five and a half pot brownies he'd had the pervious night, which is all he can recall, slumped slightly on the chair, mouth hanging open, slight drool, eyes unfocused but flinching every now and then.

Billy looks... anxious, for the lack of a better word. Feet twitching, fingers twiddling, eyes darting from Grace to Terona to Matt to Skull, like a genius topper who's been called to the Principal's office for interrogation for a crime his friends committed.

Skull looks happy. He looks very tired, but not quite as knocked out as Matt. He looks like he's never sat on a chair before, angled awkwardly, feet up, absolutely in defiance of the authority in front of him, but boy oh boy does he look pleased. It's a nice look on him.

Grace is the first one who speaks.

"So, which one of you is gonna tell us what happened here, last night?"

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it

[morninkim]

Rise of the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers - The Phantom Ranger

Her daughter's identity as the Green Ranger exposed to her. Promethea Base shut down and cordoned off following it's near destruction by Rita and the Dark Dragonzord. Grace Oliver puts her skills to the test, repurposing salvaged alien tech to create her own morpher and become the Phantom Ranger!

Though not as advanced as the Power Rangers' suits and much more crude, the Phantom Ranger armor still measures up and proves a match to the new and improved Z-Putties that have begun to appear following Rita's defeat. However, Grace's new powers create more tension between her and her daughter as she once again hides her activities from Tommy.

That, coupled with her need to keep her daughter safe, has the potential to cost her dearly if she isn't careful.

[super-saiyan-rose]

Mighty Morphin #15 cover by Eleonora Carlini.