#more than one sole survivor kiss my ass

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

Shades of Red

art in the cover by @ave661 and @shkretart !

chapter one | chapter two | ao3 | masterlist ✦ Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x civilian f! reader ✦ Summary: The sole survivor of a terrorist attack that killed over a hundred. The soldier responsible for saving her. He wants to help you, but his own trauma make him withdraw when he wants to get closer and intoxicate when he wants to remedy. He kisses your scars and hopes you'll runaway. He wants you to run away. But you won't. ✦ TW: NSFW, explicit, f!reader, little to none f! physical appearence descriptions, canon typical violence, mentions of abuse and trauma/PTSD, bit of gore, mental illness mentions, slowburn;

A/N: Hello girlies! This is the very first time I get the courage to actually post something I wrote. I've been reading y'all fics behind my screen for so much time now I figured I could start postingggg; so please be gentle with the feedbacks, but be also sincere ♥ also, English is not my first language and although I'm fluent, there might be a mistake or two along the way. Don't feel shy in pointing it out if you see any! Moreover, this will be a long ass one I'm pretty sure, but I might get myself some more courage to post my smut oneshots in some near future. Hope you enjoy! x

Chapter 1 - The Incident | 3.3k

There was ash in the air everywhere. That scenario didn’t frighten him – in fact, Ghost was absolutely sure that at that point in his life, almost nothing could fright him. He had seen much worse things before, he thought silently as he walked towards the building completely destroyed. There was debris everywhere – the building had not collapsed completely, but some parts did not survive the flames and now there seemed to be not even a little bit of life in that place. There were still small portions of flames spread through a few heaps of debris, a terrible smell of wood and burnt concrete; but nothing of that could be worse than the smells of dead, flattered human flesh that once or again invaded his nostrils.

His eyes rolled around in search of any record of life. In vain, he knew: there was no chance that any civilian had survived that. A cruel, dark bombing, a violent and destructive terrorist act. The only goal was to destroy any form of life that could inhabit there, and possibly it had been obtained without any further circumstances. When Price sent the radio search order to all members of the 141, he made it very clear that those efforts were in vain. They would find nothing. We lost today, he said. We could not foresee this, nor can we remedy it. It was a burden they had to cope with on a daily basis - the often inability to do something, to act, was a burden that a soldier should carry. It was part of the job.

Ghost pressed the point button in his ear. “Is anyone listening?” He asked, his eyes checking the entire perimeter of the building behind the skull mask that covered his face. “Have you found something, LT?” Soap answered, his voice hushed by the efforts. “No. I’m making an entrance, there’s nothing out here.” the lieutenant stated, kicking off a few remaining pieces of concrete from the front of his feet and laying the rifle in his hands. Ghost stood in front of the main entrance to the building – that place that should have looked like a reception at some point in the near past - and the movement of his boots against the ground caused the roof above his head to shake a little, and some ash particles fell onto his helmet. He observed the movement, standing still for a few seconds, only for warranty; he did not want to end up becoming one more of those burial victims. 

When the concrete whisper finally stopped stirring his ears, he entered. The lamp of his helmet lit up, and he looked around. His eagle eyes did not lose an inch of that entire perimeter, his ears attentive as those of a bat. He was looking for a sign, whatever it was: a presence, a scream, voices, calls for help. Anything. Anyone.

All he could hear were the sounds of the structure of the building, apparently ready to give in. Ghost tried to enter one of the apartments; his boots sole hit the semi-destroyed grinded surface of the door, and he broke in. He looked around. An enormous smashed chandelier rested violently against the bloody body of a child. 

Many people said Simon was the type of man to have no feelings anymore. That time, scars and trauma had taken from him all and every kind of humanity. He had become a soldier—one of the good, one of the invincible, but nothing aside from that. Nothing but a soldier.

Perhaps that sentence became so repetitive that at some point, he, himself began to believe it. His face remained motionless. The sound of the blood drops hanging on the floor filled his ears, and he snorted for a moment, pressing the point into his ear. “First floor, apartment 102,” he said, coordinating other operators to head to start collecting the bodies. 

His eyes went up to the ceiling, facing the huge blunt in the structure that caused the luster to fall. Maybe the parents' bodies were still there somewhere to be found, he thought. But that wasn’t his job, and unfortunately he didn’t have all the time in the world. He then traced his steps out of the apartment, looking around. As he kept going upstairs, the lantern lit up one hand or another thrown out of a pile of debris. Broken legs, the kinds of horrors that haunt the dreams of ordinary people. 

As Price had said and as he imagined to be fact, there were no survivors. Even when he reached the last floor, without any hope that he would find any movement that were not spasms of lifeless bodies, he tried. He tried to find someone, to do his job with all the mastery he could. His voice echoed through the entire floor, looking for anyone who could answer, but as expected, there was no response.

All that was left was the subsoil, the garage. When he came down the lobby again and found a portion of the staff dragging out some bodies, placing them in black bags, one of the doctors caught his attention. “Lieutenant. Have you finished checking around? Nothing up there?” The man asked, pulling his glasses from the tip of his nose. Ghost is negative. “No, nothing,” he said bluntly.

The doctor seemed to bite his own jaw with some strength, in disappointment. He has baffled. “You don’t even have to check down there. If those above didn’t survive...” he said, giving on his shoulders. Ghost watched him in silence for a few seconds, before finally answering, “Focus on your work, doc. I’ll finish my own.” He said in a nod before starting to push with his crude hands the stones that covered the entrance to the stairs that led to the garage.

His steps echoed. Ghost walked through the parking lot, passed pillar by pillar, checked every car. There were bursting pipes releasing hot steam, a gas leak as well he could tell – and he didn’t want to be there to see what would happen if some kind of ignition occurred. He hastened his steps. He took a deep breath; he was about to press his point and give up, claiming that there were no survivors, but a stifling sound interrupted his action. He looked around, looking for the source of the heavy breath and the little grumbling of pain he heard. His eyebrows cracked almost instantly and he turned around himself, looking around. All his senses were activated at that moment – he began to walk through among the few cars there, following the sound he had heard and then, a hand hitting the air dropped debris to the side of what seemed to be a body. He approached cautiously, throwing the light from his helmet’s lantern in the direction of the sound, and to his surprise, although not perceptible, there was the only survivor of the bombing: you.

A small, female frame shrunk from a pile of debris. Your hair was covered in ashes, your face - the dirty cheeks with the blackness of the material, your arms painted in the scarlet of your blood flowing freely to the ground, glass blades attached painfully to your soft skin. There was a cut down from the top of your forehead until the beginning of your left eyebrow. The completely messy strands of your hair fell against your face, opaque, bright. The expression of fear on your eyes turned into pure terror the moment they met his own, those small cold orbs inside the mask. You instinctively tried to move away from him, push your body away from those debris, away from that huge and frightening man.

When you threw your body to the side, all you could feel was your back against the cold floor, your left leg refused to work. You felt nauseous, stupid, your head turned. Your mouth trembled in a failed attempt to say something, the silence already lasted for seconds enough for you to fear his frame standing ever so tall and quiet. “Please don’t hurt me.” You managed to say, your voice engulfed in a cry that refused to go out. It wasn’t as if it was going to work; if he was one of the terrorists who caused this incident and really wanted to hurt you, then you were at his mercy and there was little you could do about it.

Maybe, if you were in a better mental and physical condition, you’d be able to identify that the rifle in the hands of the man in front of yourself was of a military model. That all his gear pointed out that he was an operator, someone willing to help. Your mind could not process all the necessary information about him at the given moment, although.

“I will not hurt you, lass.” He explained, and for a moment you felt your chest swell in air and it was hard to contain the immense desire to cry. The heavy steps of the man were made against your small, wounded body. He lowered himself, letting the rifle rest next to him quietly. You gulped in dry, still nervous with your eyes raised to his, now a little closer to you. He wasn’t looking at you — he was looking down, seeming to assess how hurt you were. “I’ll tell you what’s happening now. Okay?” He asked, slowly and calmly, his cold eyes now facing your own, visualizing your soul behind the cover of this hurt shell of yours. You stumbled, and he continued. “I’ll take that away from you, and I need you to help me helping you. Alright? You will be well. I just need you to hold your leg and when I push it over, you roll. Understood?” The man asked, his firm and deep voice being the first source of human contact you had since the lightning caused you to wipe out unconscious hours before. You came in for confirmation.

Ghost nodded back and raised his fingers, counting to three. Contrary to what you might have imagined, he didn’t need to do much to lift the huge concrete block that blocked his left leg from moving — he even had some ease in doing so. He held the concrete above his body, his arms backed over you, he sat down. “Roll.” he commanded, and you obeyed as you could. You leaned her hands on the ground and gave a boost; one of your hands instinctively went to the wounded leg, in an attempt to warm up the pain now felt by finally having released it from the rubble. You couldn’t hold a moan of pain, but he was quickly stifled by the sound of concrete hitting the ground when Ghost let it fall back.

You mentally begged that you could endure that. Your eyes were filled with tears, and a certain despair arose through your throat, your mouth. The anguish of finally feeling the unpleasant smell of the environment, the nervousness of realizing that very possibly, few other people survived that disaster, it was overwhelming your already troubled mind. 

Ghost didn’t lose a second in time; he finished positioning the rifle around his body and you felt his arms wrapping you by the waist and the folds of your knees, and he lifted it up with immense ease – it was as if you were featherweight. The gloves in his hands were rough against the sensitivity of your skin, but his touch was as cautious as possible. You could say without a doubt that this soldier of at least twice your height was doing his best not to hurt you any more than you’re already wounded.

“What is your name?” He finally asked, his rifle resting on his back, and you resting over his arms. He wasn’t looking at you – his eyes were fixed ahead, in the direction he was carrying you to, the exit. You answered, and he nodded in acknowledgement. “You can call me Ghost. I am a soldier, yes? We will take care of you.” He said in a clear tactical attempt to calm your nervousness down.

You sat down with your head. “Amelie Miller... Did you find her? My friend, she... did you find her?” You asked, your body trembled as you came to realize his eyes were now boring into yours.

He seemed to look for words that would not hurt you as much as the ones he had to say, but he for one, was not good with words or comforting.

“I’m sorry, girl,” he whispered, in a sigh. “there are no more survivors. You were the only one.”

~ x ~

Your head hurt. Everything hurt; body, arms. There was a blanket around your shoulders and a bottle of water still sealed in your hands. The look in your eyes was empty, blurred; there were a lot of people there. Many doctors, many operators - soldiers like Ghost. One of them wore a mohican, the other had thick eyebrows. The captain was talking to them in an isolated corner, the doctors were talking to each other about your condition, about what should be done from now on. There were agents from the British intelligence surrounding the site, and there were about hundreds of black bags stretched on the floor, closed. You still felt pain, although the healings now prevented blood from flowing freely through your forehead as before. The glass pieces had been removed from your arms, your face was clean now and even so, you never felt so dirty in your entire life.

Every time you dare to blink, you could swear that you would faint. Your hands were getting weaker, loosening around the bottle. The sudden sound of the bottle falling to the ground caught the attention of one of the men there – the captain. As far as you could realize, he called himself something Price.

“Miss.” He said, coming closer to you. Suddenly, there were eyes on you from every angle possible; all of the other soldiers turned to the ambulance where you were sitting now. You slowly raised your face to look back at Price, and he continued. “I’m not going to ask if it’s okay, this question is rhetorical. You need to be hydrated.” He was bowing down in front of you, taking the bottle he dropped and opening it, offering it to you. Your eyes checked at the bottle for a few seconds and your trembling hand finally grabbed it, drinking until the last drop you could - all at once. You could feel your throat burning, your skin seemed to be in living flesh. The appearance of your wounds was not as unpleasant as the feeling of having them, but you knew that all that would leave you some ugly scars.

You could not care about it now – in fact, couldn’t care about anything at all. Your mind was empty and you never felt so apathetic in such a distressful situation. 

“What am I going to do now?” You asked, in a whisper, your eyes completely lost. “I—what am I going to do...?,” you repeated, and there was nothing but an absolute feeling of raw pain and loss in your voice right at that moment, for as much as you tried to hide it.

Price swelled his chest, and his lips compressed into a line. “You don’t have to worry about anything now. We’ll take care of everything,” he assured. “The government has a great defense program for disasters like this, you won’t be without a roof,” he finished, trying to calm you down. You closed your eyes and shaken your head, but you did not respond. There was nothing to say, nothing to do; what could be done besides trusting that everything would go well? Trust that they would have a plan for you, a shelter, doctors, a chance of living after you were supposed to die in such a horrific way?

You didn’t even know if you wanted all that. Didn’t even knew if you wanted to be the only survivor. Surely not: at that time, you would rather have died among the other more than a hundred people who were now in black bags scattered on the floor in front of you. You felt so much - you felt gratitude for their work, for saving you, but at the same time you couldn’t help but to feel like a fraud for surviving while other died. Others that, somewhat, deserved more than you to live. There was so much in your mind now, but little that you could really synthesize and make sense of.

You drowned your face between your hands, unable to cry, but wanting so deeply to hide from them, from those men, from doctors, from the press, from everything. Wanting to be away from everything, wanting to be dead for once.

A little further away, Ghost observed you. His broad arms crossed, his posture relentlessly perfect as always. His eyes looked at your gestures, scanned your body —all those wounds, poor girl, he thought. Although he was sure there was no more of a heart in his chest, he felt comprehensive towards your emotions. The horrors you had lived in such a short space of time, the unbearable consequences that that meant for your poor mind. The trauma. The pain.

He could not help but think that he saw a bit of himself in you. Not a bit of Ghost – a little bit of Simon. A little bit of the little Simon who felt an immeasurable strain in his chest, a void that could not be filled. 

When the doctors finally helped you to get up in the ambulance and sit on one of the available chairs, your face turned over your own shoulder and you found his eyes stuck to yours. It felt intimidating in some way; perhaps the way his confidence didn’t allow him to look away while you stared at him, or something in the way he seemed capable of reading right through you like a good book of his. He was a savior to you, and somehow it still seemed his persona was conflicting with the one of a savior. He was something else, perhaps still a benefactor, but somehow, a very dangerous man.

There was not a single feeling in his eyes, quite the opposite. There was pure coldness, and yours on the other hand carried some gratitude and ingratitude at the same time. You felt grateful that he had saved you, but at the same time, felt angry at him for not having let you die. You entered the ambulance, and your eyes continued to lock a gaze against his until the moment someone closed the car door from outside.

Ghost turned his eyes at last, and saw Price approaching.

“Fuck.” The captain whispered, laying his hands on his waist, looking at all the misfortune that the incident had caused to that place. “How many bodies?” He asked, looking at Simon with the corner of his eyes.

“A hundred and two so far.” Ghost answered quietly.

“And have you found the bodies of the sons of bitches who did this?” Price said with some disgust and hatred attached to his voice. Ghost assented positively, which made Price crack the dust almost instantly into a distressed expression.

“Motherfuckers.” He grunted, turning to the rest of the team. Soap, who had been remaining in silence for thorough all the search, dared to finally speak.

“We have a lot to report, hm?” He raised his eyebrows, and received a Price assent in response.

“To the headquarters." The captain ordered, making his way to the helicopter that awaited for them, and they left.

#simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #cod ghost

[mara-xx217]

Alright-y uh, if you're doing lil asks and stuff.

Could you write some mini smut thing-y(or fluff! Either is good) with my beautiful boy, The Carnifex? Maybe like- he's a bit jelly about the survivor being nice around the other dudes

(Or if you don't want to write him, then any character of ur choice)

Oh I'd love to give the big guy some love!

Warnings: Possessive Behavior, Homicidal Rage, Canon Typical Violence, Dubcon

His temper was a bit like a volatile storm or that of a volcano. It was normally a slow build over the course of days, weeks, or even years to get him to the point of outright flipping his lid and going on the kind of rampage that Alejandro or Tarhos would go on. But when it came to you, though, the Carnifex could go from typical annoyance and the usual blood rush of a hunt to outright infuriated and blood mad in an instant. 

You say you were his, yet you were out galivanting with others. The Carnifex does believe you when you look up at him with those big eyes of yours, reassuring him that there was no other that could possibly ever compare to him.... but seeing you offer one your tiny hands to another brings his blood to a boil.

It all came to a breaking point when he put his hands on you. The reason didn't matter to the Carnifex, there was no damn reason or right that 'nobleman' had in being anywhere near you. It was more than enough to make blood pound in his ears and his vision to tighten and focus solely on him and that hand that was on your shoulder.

You didn't realized something had happened until you were shoved to the ground and soaking wet with warm blood. You kicked away Vittorio's severed arm with a scream, hyperventilating as blood continued to drench the ground, along with even more of his body parts.

It was just a passing touch... It was only a TOUCH! The words left your mouth on their own accord but it didn't stop the Carnifex's blinding rage. He sunk his axe into the ground and picked you up by the front of your shirt.

"MMPHH-?!"

The kiss was sloppy and full of teeth. Bitter blood mixed with your saliva, making you feel sick and lightheaded. You felt pitifully weak as your body was grabbed at. Your legs kicked in the air as your ass was squeezed, then you squeaked into the kiss as your entire crotch was roughly grabbed as your head was pulled back by your hair.

"P-Ple- EEEEEEK!! I-I'm- MMMPFFHH!!"

He didn't want to hear you speak. You were his. You would say that you were his but he needed to feel this and so did you.

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd the knight's guard #dbd the carnifex #dbd sander rault #dbd the carnifex x reader #ask response #dubcon #possessive behavior #blood

[watchyourdigits]

Eventually I'll do a write-up on the minor OCs in my fics. Perhaps build them their own little universes because they deserve it. Especially Alice and Eileen, my beautiful lesbian babies. Some backstory and faceclaims below for those who don't read my fics because I LOVE these two sm (general Night Letter ramblings as well below the cut, lots of rehashed stuff heh).

For those who don't read Night Letter, Frankie is my Sole Survivor OC. He's a gay (cowboy-adjacent) man born in TN. He was moved out to/raised in TX when he was ~4 by his father (who became an alcoholic) after his mom passed away while having his younger brother (who also didn't make it). He's got three older sisters who were very protective of him.

Frankie shipped up to Boston for the military after his dad caught him kissing boys & this lovely lady named Alice at a bar near her college/his station. They hit it off really well and found common ground in being closeted gays. They met up a few more times before deciding to get married to keep up appearances and maintain an "acceptable" social life. And also to appease both their families to remain in their respective inheritances, of course. Gotta do what you gotta do.

Eileen was Alice's live-in "friend". Or long-distance cousin, depending on the day. So far as anyone in Sanctuary Hills knew anyway lmao Surprise! They were partners and met in college. Frankie loved them both so so so dearly. They reminded him of his sisters back home, whom he missed constantly while settling down in Boston. Alice and Eileen doted on him furiously and were the only reason he stayed sane when Malcolm - Frankie's first true love that he met in the military - was killed in action. They kept him grounded.

Shaun was born from Alice and Frankie in the technical sense only. The ladies really wanted a kid together, and Frankie was willing & available to help with that (via sperm donation). He always felt more like an uncle than a father, and that's what they always called him: Uncle Frankie. I might be reconning my own fic here, in all honesty. I actually can't remember if I mentioned the term "uncle" specifically in Night Letter. Also I'm pretty sure I just said he was available to help in that department and never specified that he didn't fuck Alice!!!!!! ALSO he does strategically refer to himself as Shaun's father in the post-apocalypse because he thinks it legitimizes his cause to find him more than if he were just his uncle, saying it for the sake of emotional appeal to those he might need help from. You bet your ass he'll go back to being Uncle once Shaun is living with them :')

My FCs for Alice and Eileen are Elizabeth Taylor and Jane Powell (respectively) because I saw this one picture and couldn't help myself bc they are so goddamn cute

Do note: they are merely mentioned in the fic (posthumously obviously). I have ~problems~ because I have way too much in my head for them despite them not being relevant at all. Like how their first date was a total disaster because Alice stupidly suggested they get milkshakes. Alice does not like sweet things. Eileen does, but they're both lactose intolerant. Neither said anything because they were both just so nervous and trying to be romantic. The date itself was fine, but they couldn't meet up the next day because they were both SUFFERING. Both made elaborate excuses as to why they didn't show up, only to find the other hadn't showed either. They didn't talk about it, calling it a wash, and only found the truth out after two years of being together when wine drunk one night in Eileen's dorm room.

In other news, is it bad that I've considered making Eileen into a ghoul?? Alice was Frankie's legal wife so she was in the vault. But Eileen was out of the house when the bombs fell (not that she was registered for the vault anyway). I like to think she went ghoul instead of being struck from earth okay let me be 😭😭

Less important, but Malcolm (aka Mal, aka loverboy) and Frankie (aka Franklin Lee Barr aka don't fuckin' call me Franklin) are Sal Mineo and James Dean, respectively:

#i give pay them an homage in raise hell (in name only) because i think about them all the time #but they exist within the Frankie-verse #oh no regg is being annoying about OCs again what a SURPRISE #oc: alice #oc: eileen #fic: night letter #throwing this there because of the FCs #oc: malcolm #oc: frankie #a lot of this is in the fic already but i'm putting it all in one place so i can pull it up when i need to #// implied homophobia

[josiebelladonna]

so.

we braved it through the heat wave out here and we saw the Barbie movie on early release day because of the matinee (and on my dime because i inexplicably have money).

first things first. i admit it, i’m going to be biased because neither of us had any desire to see it; in fact, i was turned off from it almost immediately just from the marketing alone. don’t get me wrong, either, there have been girlish things in the past that i do like (and i’m the least girly girl i know), but as i said, it reminded me of that episode of portlandia where the feminist bookstore gets bought out and basically turns it into one big corporate joke slathered in pink paint. that’s exactly what this movie reminded me of, except it’s executed in real life.

i’m just saying this now because i've been carefully avoiding the movie tags the last week, with people acting like heaven and earth had to be moved in order for the barbie movie to be made while utterly slating oppenheimer (and acting like the mission impossible movie doesn’t exist, like wtf). in fact, this is why i actually kept my distance from social channels because i just knew it was going to be bad. bad vibes in the color of pantone 219.

but i left my bias at the door and i went into the theater with an open mind. you never know. i could be wrong and everyone who’s been giving it glowing reviews have been sincere this whole time…

first off, the elephant in the room. the soundtrack.

there are actually a couple of bangers on this, like the fifty fifty song and the dua lipa one; the song from ice spice was a lot better than i thought it would be, like that actually surprised me. i like her, man, she’s cool. but for the most part, this soundtrack just swings and misses. shit, the bob’s burgers soundtrack stuck out more to me and that was done solely by everyone on the cast.

i have no idea why you would have royal pain in the ass billie eilish on the soundtrack other than to play favorites and inflate her already-planet sized ego even more because heaven for-fucking-bid anyone has a negative opinion of her, and- you know, now that i write this out, it does make sense to have her on it. this movie in a way is like her: painfully overhyped to the point that thinking about who’s hyping it makes you feel sick after a while and what substance there is you wish for more of. and, no, i fucking hated that song: there’s a reason why i dropped my oppenheimer drawings at the same time as when she dropped that one, all the way down to the minute, because i just know it’s beginning of the end for her. 

yes, i don’t like her anymore but… i kind of feel bad for her, though. started out as this little teen girl with the unusual hair and the tomboyish wardrobe who sang these dark songs that i found solace in back in 2019, and look at her now. she’s being sexualized like the dickens (and apparently when she didn’t want that, either? there’s an interview from 2016 where she explicitly says that she wants us to focus on her music and not her. yeah, she was like 14/15 at the time but you could still carry that narrative as you become an adult and ease into it) and her ego has gotten so big the last couple of years that she’s utterly insufferable now. she’s a loser, you guys.  ”but she’s so sincere! so honest!” no, she’s not???? she has quite literally changed her narrative so many times the last seven years, i have no clue if she’s telling the truth or not. really, ask anyone who’s followed her since 2015. REAL survivors tell their story and they stick to it.

i’m tired of her name, i’m tired of seeing her, i’m tired of people left and right kissing her ass when there really is no good viable reason to… I’M JUST TIRED OF HER! and this movie killed it, this movie was the last straw for me. i wish she would just go away already. just… let it die. let the billie eilish mania die already.

and i guess wolf van halen and slash did some solo work on the soundtrack but they weren’t credited for some reason? i recognized them immediately, and i seriously wanted more of them.

it’s like when you have a pizza and the whole thing is covered in pineapple save for this one little sliver. the rest of it is practically inedible but you look at that one piece and think, “eh, it was alright just to spite itself.”

the set design gave me the same feeling as illumination’s movies - they make the despicable me and minions movies; their movies are notoriously cheap to make because they reuse the same assets over and over again. because of this constant reuse, their movies become boring and bland after a while. add to this, when you write the movie around a few different locations, and the color scheme barely changes to boot, you get the same effect. this is not a bash on the color pink, by the way, so save your fucking comments, but to see the color pink (often fused with neon colors, too) in every corner, every crevice, every ass crack, and every single inch of screen time that isn’t the real world… it got so tiresome after just a short time. in fact, that was a big complaint with me when the commercials for it started to roll in was “that color scheme is painful to look at.” it wears on your nerves really quick, too, especially if you’re obsessed with balance like i am. it’s like, my god, can we at least have some darker tones in here to level the playing field? this is complete sensory overload. you understand the intent completely, but it’s so… it’s too much. it becomes harsh and even suffocating after the first twenty or so minutes. we left after the first… i don’t know, 50 minutes? because i had a splitting headache (it went away almost immediately, too, oddly enough). the only good part of the set was the san jacinto mountains in the background, i could tell that was the real deal. but that was pretty much it (again, the pineapple on pizza analogy).

helen mirren as the narrator felt out of place, imo. narrators have to work in a very specific context and even then, like what we’ve seen with the minions movies, it can be abused and used as a crutch. i don’t know why you would need someone to point out this shit when you could see it for yourself. it’s called “motion pictures” for a reason, and there’s a way to work in exposition without it feeling like a cannonball to the face.

there was one review from about a week ago - i’ll never forget it either mainly because i had to look it up and i was met with the login box from twitter - but it said the story is the weak part and... yes. yes, it is. first off, i went to look up the synopsis and the first thing that ran through my mind was “wreck-it ralph”, and also the lego movie. barbie and ken leave barbieland for the human world in a similar way that ralph and vanellope trekked through different video game worlds, or how the gang in the lego movie travelled through different lego settings. except, instead of being this colorful fun delicious adventure where everyone grows and changes through actions and the two leads learn to love each other and value each other by the end, they come back for an existential crisis and- i’m sorry, it doesn’t work. it felt really… the only word that comes to mind is “clunky”. it felt very clunky and cumbersome, like it’s trying to be everything and say everything all at once. i mean, the story is the backbone, the heart and soul of a movie, and when it’s barely there, or sputters out in the second act and the whole thing actually lives and dies on the work of fucking speeches (that i already saw like word for word in tumblr posts about 9-10 years ago) rather than adventures, it feels pointless. i want to watch a story unfold. tell me a tall tale. show me something new.

and my nickname for it “the big pink brick” was earned. it felt like this giant brick kept hitting me over the head with its messages and it got uncomfortable and not in the way that great art makes you uncomfortable: no, i mean it was unpleasant. misandrist, too. yes, this movie is misandry in every sense of the word. there’s smashing the patriarchy and then there’s treating men as if they’re useless meat sacks. maybe i’m just someone who likes to be entertained and not preached to when she goes to the movies: it’s why i could never get into rom-coms (and my mom is the same way, too) because… what’s entertaining about this? about a story you’ve seen a million times already just drowned in pink paint and with tropes from 10-year-old (GREAT) animated movies thrown in to make it a little more interesting? plus, it’s why i find movies that attempt to be philosophical a rather mixed bag of sorts.

you can be dark and intellectual. you can be serious. you can be a feminist and stand up to the patriarchy and not be a complete asshole to men and make our gender look bad in the process. zootopia did this back in 2016, so why not carry the trend onwards? you can be all those things and still have it be genuinely fun and surreal and cartoonish. don bluth and all the cartoons from the 90s and the 2000s mastered that, why can’t other directors do it? it felt very lopsided towards barbie and ken. kind of the point, yes, but... i wanted to know more about these other people, though, like what’s going on with them. you can’t have two characters exist in a vacuum when it obviously isn’t. 

there are also parts where - i’m gonna get shit for this, too, so i’m bracing myself - it reminded me of the emoji movie.  “do you guys ever think about dying?” that sounds like a rejected line from the emoji movie and i can’t be the only one who thinks this, either. really, i hate to be “that person” but i kind of knew how it was going to play out just by watching the trailer. it’s a very loud movie, too, no one talks in a normal voice. it often felt like i was being yelled at. 

and i really didn’t find any of it funny: i think i chuckled all of twice, but never “laugh out loud” like i do when i watch the holy grail or any of mel brooks’ movies.

there’s genuinely nothing sadder than comedy that fails to make you laugh.

”it’s supposed to be ham-fisted!” listen, if someone has to say this, that’s a bad sign. that’s a sign of literacy having fallen right off a cliff. it’s like when i saw nope last summer and people were bitching about how it’s “hard to follow” and the arc with the monkey felt unnecessary (when it absolutely was!)

it’s a sign of people wanting movies literally to be nothing more than just a bunch of colors fused with lines that sounded like they came out of 2013-2014 tumblr written at 1 in the morning filtered through volume settings meant for dodger stadium.

rather than be challenged or introduced to something new, you, the audience this movie was made for as well as tumblr in 2023, just want your asses kissed, so you ironically get this echo chamber thing going and true intellect goes right out the window.  “tumblr doesn’t have an echo chamber effect going, though” IT MOST CERTAINLY DOES! how many people on here feel like they’re just yelling into a void, like no one cares what they have to say? far too many, myself being one of them! you people don’t want anything to nudge you out of your comfort zone and instead cater to your every whim, and it’s so insulting.

everyone on the cast had this look in their eyes like they were just dying inside, and i have no clue if that was intentional, either. but there were times i could tell margot was really trying her best, but she looked like she was phoning it in (weird to think amy schumer was considered for the role, too). even dua lipa looked miserable. will ferrell of all people looked miserable, too, which was shocking to me.

really, the only person who seemed to be having a good time with it all was ryan gosling. i’m not even a fan of the guy, but just like with the last two tom cruise movies, i have to hand it to him. he was actually great. he was fun to watch. did i think it was “oscar-worthy” like what everyone on the internet says? not really—the internet is rather hit and miss in terms of taste, so of course i took it with a grain of salt. but i give him my kudos, though.

but after the big pink brick, you yearn for true intellectualism again, and not in the slathered in pink shoved-right-in-your-face-without-any-rhyme-or-reason-other-than-because-women type fashion, because that really isn’t. another interesting thing to note? oppenheimer is three hours, (no way we could do the double header, too hot out and my mom wants to treat me to that instead) but i bet you money you won’t even notice it. you’re just so engrossed in the story of the man and how the bomb came to be that you genuinely don’t even think about the time. barbie is… what, an hour and a half? hour-forty? i kept checking my watch every few minutes and we didn’t even make it to the end. how do you make 90-100 minutes feel like 90-100 hours, i’ll never know. i was thinking this when threads was launched, “how the fuck can you people here on tumblr just turn up your noses at this when you aren’t even going to give it a chance, which oh, by the way, is the very definition of prejudice?”: the barbie movie is the best example of what’s known as “brainrot”. bright obnoxious unflattering colors, feminism so warped that even despite being from women it feels like everyone’s just cheering on the winner and bashing all the kens of the world, and morals that incessantly hit you over the head and you get nothing out of it and you learn nothing and the hype is really just that: hype. tumblr in the 2020s deserves this movie, and it serves all of us right for letting it happen. 

i saw the reviews on rotten tomatoes last night, and the positive ones all feel ai-generated, no doubt about that. the negative ones meanwhile, felt more human and confirmed my suspicions about it. in fact, i saw a couple of female critics say that there’s an air of defensiveness to it and… yeah, there is.

it’s the exact same vibe i get from fanfic communities now: this whole thing of “if you got nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” said in the most belligerent tone ever and god damn it, NO ONE WANTS THAT. NO ONE likes that. you hear about women complaining about men being aggressive: take this from a woman, it works the other way, too.  i avoid so many things now not because i DoN’t HaVe AnYtHiNg NiCe To SaY, but because it’s unpleasant. someone who’s lgtbq was turned off by barbie like how she’s turned off by fic communities and most of the internet because it all comes off as mean-spirited. you see the intent but it’s completely lost in translation and it winds up not feeling like a movie. oppenheimer, for all its dead weight heavier than uranium, is by far a more pleasant experience and the manhattan project was primarily men (to all of you bitching about that).

i saw something earlier before we left saying, “men who refuse to see the barbie movie are trash.”

…you know.  as a woman.  i resent the fact that i had to see that sentiment.  because, ahem. after women fought for decades, how we were like “hands off our bodies” and “don’t touch us unless we say so”, there’s this narrative here that basically covertly tells men what to do. if you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know i hate hypocrisy. and forcing men to see this fucking movie lest they get labeled as misogynistic or homophobic-  you hypocrites. really, if you condone that… don’t you DARE call yourself a feminist 

EVER AGAIN.

barbie is not about female empowerment, and the discourse surrounding it is not about misogyny. the issue is every single one of you taking it way too seriously. if it was truly a fun movie, à la the lego movie or wreck-it ralph, i guarantee i probably would have loved it even with the hideous color scheme and lame soundtrack. but it’s not. it’s not fun at all. it’s basing a movie off a toy meant for little girls that was studied and recorded as anti-feminist (given the rampant body image issues we have, for starters) and backtracking on itself for decades in hopes to fix itself, and every single one of you screamed “FEMINIST!!!” because the echo chamber caught up to you.

feel free to complain in the comments, i got shit to do✌🏻

#barbie #barbie 2023 #barbenheimer #oppenbarbie #reviews #opinion #text

[courtofmuses]

@prettybrawler sent: sender kisses receiver to distract them.

               CAED   WAS   A   DISTRACTION   NO   MATTER   what   he   was   doing,   and   that   was   often   why   Veronica   loved   having   him   around.   He   was   a   comfort,   someone   she   knew   she   could   rely   on   despite   their   history.   More   often   than   not,   she   regretted   how   things   had   turned   out   between   them   but   they   had   been   young.   She'd   barely   been   able   to   handle   her   own   shit;   raising   her   sister   and   then   her   dad   dying   and   becoming   the   sole   provider   for   them.   The   survivor   benefits   her   sister   got   helped   only   a   little,   and   Ronnie   had   to   supplement   the   rest.   In   her   mind,   it   hadn't   been   fair   to   expect   Caed   to   become   a   parent   alongside   her,   so   she's   broken   it   off.   She'd   never   had   a   solid   relationship   outside   of   him   and   never   would.   Ultimately,   her   heart   still   belonged   to   him   even   if   she   was   certain   it   would   never   work   between   them.   She   still   wanted   him.   

Tori's   first   middle   school   dance   was   coming   up,   and   Veronica   had   taken   her   shopping   for   a   dress   she   could   wear,   which   meant   of   course   it   was   secondhand.   They'd   found   one   that   wasn't   too   out   of   style,   and   since   Ronnie   knew   how   to   sew,   she'd   promised   her   sister   she   would   fix   it   up   so   it   looked   amazing   on   her   the   night   of   the   dance.   Her   sister   had   refused   to   tell   her   whether   she   had   a   date   or   not,   and   Ronnie   didn't   press.   Let   her   have   her   secrets.   Caed   had   come   into   the   trailer   just   a   few   minutes   earlier   and   Ronnie   had   given   him   a   quick   greeting,   never   even   looking   up   from   her   task.   It   was   getting   late   and   Tori   was   already   asleep.   

It   wasn't   until   she   felt   lips   against   her   neck   that   Ronnie   was   brought   back   into   the   real   world.   She   smiled   faintly,   one   hand   raising   up   to   weave   through   messy   blonde   locks.   ❝   I   told   you   I'd   be   done   in   a   few   minutes.   I've   just   gotta   finish   the   hem.   ❞   Another   kiss   to   her   neck   and   she   shivered   faintly.   Ah,   so   he   was   going   to   be   persistent   in   his   attempt   to   distract   her.   

❝   You're   such   a   pain   in   my   ass,   ❞   she   teased,   turning   her   head   to   capture   his   lips   with   her   own,   kissing   him   deeply.

#━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ ANSWERED ⋮ THIS IS GOSPEL FOR THE VAGABONDS. #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ THREAD ⋮ PRETTYBRAWLER. #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ CHARACTER ⋮ VERONICA HENDRICKS. #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ INTERACTIONS FEAT. ⋮ CAED BYRONE. #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ VERSE CANON ⋮ RONNIE & CAED (PRETTYBRAWLER).

[codedcore]

I’m sorry I haven’t been as active recently, I’ve been a bit busy. Here’s some stuff I’ve managed to do lately

I’ve been trying to design a few outfits for these two, they actually are going to have a lot, but here’s some of their main ones.

#fallout #fallout 4 #sole survivor #more than one sole survivor kiss my ass #frost #shantae #oc #outfit #design #character sheet #reference sheet #my art

[thirsty4theextraordinary]

Come on love, let’s get this freak-show on the road

I’ve been replaying Fallout 4 for like the 100th time recently and again I have fallen in love with Hancock all over again. So this is a little one-shot I wrote up last night that goes through how Hancock is feeling about the SS. 

Hopefully you guys like it. 

Pairing: John Hancock X Female Sole Survivor 

Tags: Fluff, nothing else just some sweetness. 

“To think I ever doubted you.” 

That was how he had started this, how he had got to where they were now. Of course, she seemed unfazed like nothing had changed. It had been days since their conversation on the side of the road. They had made camp at a local settlement of hers, or rather the Minutemen’s. She chatted idly to the settlers as they sat beside the campfire, unaware of his eyes on her. She had achieved such an amazing amount since coming off of ice. 

When they had first met, she had come strolling into Goodneighbour with Nick Valentine at her side. She was beautiful, and fresher-looking than any woman he had seen before. Like a poster of one of those pre-war movie stars. Of course, he was attracted, you would have to be blind not to be but he kept it to himself. And that vault suit hugged her curves aa though it were painted on.  

Once they started travelling together that’s when things had changed. Into something that he had never experienced before. She was kind, intelligent, cunning and not afraid to hurt those who needed hurting. He had had pre-existing ideas of what the Vault-dweller would be like in a fight and it was nothing like this. She had the reflexes of a trained killer, and as much as he had thought he would be the one protecting her, it was sometimes the other way around. He couldn’t count the number of times she had stimpak’d him mid-battle, just to turn and shoot his assailant in the face, as though it was nothing at all. 

The more they travelled together the more he fell for her. It wasn’t like him, John had always been a lone wolf, content with the occasional one nightstand. He had no problems finding lovers, even turning Ghoul hadn’t dampened his chances. The sexy King of the Zombies had no issues with the ladies. So why was he so hung up on the woman in a bright blue vault suit? 

It was one night, when they had stopped to make camp and he looked over at her sleeping form, that he fully understood, that what he felt wasn’t just simply lust, like usual. At first, it disturbed him, he wasn’t used to feeling like this, this intense feeling was scary. The womaniser in him denied these feeling of course and he told himself that the last thing she need was the love of a Ghoul. While he had never had trouble finding lovers, he knew that not all soft-skins were so inclined to his kind. He wasn’t sure he could take the rejection from her. He huffed to himself, she had turned him into a teenager again, nervous about asking out his first girl.  John Hancock was a confident flirt, never had he questioned himself before, but then never had he felt like this. She really was something else.  And yet he had never expected her to say what she did. 

He hadn’t expected the conversation to lead that way, he hadn’t even led it that way himself. He just simply wanted to let her know what a great friend she was, how impressed he was with her moral compass, deep down he wanted to be a little more like her. He felt it was only right that he shared, after all, she had been upfront since day one about her past, and what she was trying to do out here in the Commonwealth. But up until this point, he hadn’t really told her much about himself, only how he had become mayor and why he had wanted to leave. He had just wanted to share, to open up a bit. He hadn’t expected her to turn it on him like that. He had been telling her about what had happened at Diamond City. 

“I felt like I was the only one who saw how screwed up things truly were, who couldn’t just pretend things were fine. Still feel that way… or I did. Until I met you” He mentally scolded himself for that last part would she notice, question him. But she just kept listening politely, she hadn’t taken it for any more than just a declaration of admiration. No feelings attached. So with a smile, he continued. 

“I know I run my mouth, but having someone who sees the world for what it is and is willing to do something about it. It’s meant a lot to me. I feel damn lucky to have you as a friend.” 

“And that’s what we are? Friends?” the words had fallen from her mouth like they meant nothing, like she hadn’t just propositioned him. He couldn’t help the flutter that he felt in his stomach or that grin that spread across his face, he felt suddenly exposed, was she playing with him. But like aways, John use crude flirting and overconfidence to hide his nervousness. 

“Well, now that you mention it, I have been having slightly more impure thoughts than usual. Maybe we’ll get to…. act on those. Heh,” He had said to her. It wasn’t that he regretted saying it, after all, it was the truth. Watching her ass bounce in the vault suit, as she ran and few yards ahead of him as they travelled had undoubtedly been the inspiration for a few impure dreams. But did he want her to think that was all he had to offer? A few nights of passion on the road, just friends until they got into the bedroom. He wasn’t really sure what it was she wanted, maybe that was all she expected, after all, he did have a reputation. He told himself that with any other girl, especially one that looked like her, he would be happy. But as the days went past and he saw her save people who needed saving and take out those that threaten them, he knew he would never just been content with a sex only kinda deal. But it’s not like that had happened either since their talk nothing had happened. But it had been a tough few days, maybe she was simply worn out, he couldn’t blame. Or maybe it was all just meaningless flirting.  

“I’m off to bed, thanks for the drink Ben” she suddenly announced standing from her seat beside him, the settler nodded his head to her. She turned to John and bent down.

“Goodnight, Hancock,” she said sweetly before she placed a tender kiss to his cheek. He couldn’t help but turn his head and capture her lips. Just because she made him feel something new, didn’t mean he had forgotten all his moves. She squeaked with surprise at first but kissed him back nonetheless. He pulled away, shooting her his infamous grin. 

“You can call me John you know,” he told her and she smiled at him blushing pink. 

“Goodnight, John” she replied trying his name out and he smiled like a fool. No one called him that much anymore, but it sounded so sweet coming from her.

“Goodnight, Sunshine” he replied. His whole life he had been running but at that moment he knew, he could never run away from her.  

She stood fully and without another word headed off towards the small wooden shack that Ben had offered them for the night.  With his mind whirling he took off after her. He closed the door behind him and she looked up from where she was sat on one of the mattresses on the floor. She was going threw her pack, checking out ammo supplies and the like. 

“Hey, when you got time, I got something I still need you to hear,” he said as he perched himself in the rickety chair in the corner and pull the slightly smashed packet of cigarettes from his pocket. 

“Is everything alright?” she asked suddenly looking a little concerned. God, why did she have to look at him with those big beautiful eyes of hers? He took a breath.

“Oh yeah. Better than that. This is just… tricky” he began. Pushing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He offered her one silently and she took both the pack and lighter from him without a word, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag. 

He found himself opening up to her again, telling her things only he really knew. Things he hadn’t really told anyone.  How he felt inside, not about her but about himself. He needed to know she understood, that she saw him for who he really was. All his self-loathing out in the open, the real John Hancock on full display.  How he was just running away, with no real destination in mind. She hadn’t just listened to him spill his guts she had consoled him. 

“You may have run, but you always ran for a reason,” she told him with a nod of her head. Hearing her say something like that from her, was like a warm shower, washing away his insecurities, his worries. 

“Been trying to convince myself of that for a long time, but hearing that coming from someone like you…. I don’t know if you understand what that means to me,” he said with a smile which she returned. Again he took a breath.

“So, lemme get to the point. Throwing in with you has been the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s like I found a part of myself I never realised was missing…. Which happened sometimes when you’re a Ghoul” there he was joking again, protecting himself. 

“If I hadn’t taken up with you, I’d probably be in a gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by Radroaches. You have been one hell of a friend” He had used that word strategically, he hadn’t forgotten the stolen kiss they had just had but he needed to test the waters. 

“Have you ever thought about us as maybe more than just friends?” she said her face serious. Was she testing him too? 

“Heh. It that obvious? But come on. You don’t want to wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for.” it was honest, there were no sexual undertones, no joking. He was checking, he knew he could charm the pants off most girls in the Commonwealth but this was more than that, he wanted to check he hadn’t made a mistake. 

“Who I fall for is my decision. And I’ve fallen for you” she admitted with a smile and he swallowed hard. 

“Wouldn’t expect that kind of lapse in judgement from you. But I guess that works out for me then, doesn’t it?” he joked, mentally he scolded himself he should have told her how he felt. What she meant to him. But she giggled at his joke and he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Heh. Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky.“ he said looking down at the lit cigarette in his hand, the long line of ash waiting to be flicked off. 

Her hand entered his peripheral vision and he looked towards her. She had thrown her cigarette away and she was holding her hand out towards him. He threw his cigarette out the hole in the shack wall and took her hand. She pulled him to sit in front of her. Her beautiful eyes staring into his soul.  

“Look John, I know you joke to protect yourself. But I’m going to be honest now” she said and he blinked his heart beating out of his chest, she was going to tell him that he meant nothing to her. 

“When I said I fallen for you” she began, he knew what was coming”

“I really meant it” she breathed holding his hand a little tighter. He let out a breath he hadn’t know he was holding. She meant it?

“I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone before,” she said and he smiled so brightly it hurt his cheeks.

“I love you too, Sunshine,” he said and she smiled.

“But I want to check what that means to you. What I mean is, I don’t one-night stands or friends with benefits. I’m either in all the way or not at all.  So what do you say?” she said her voice far less confident than he was used to hearing from her. Had she been having all the same thoughts as him? God, he was a fool. 

“You don’t know how happy you make me, saying stuff like that. With you, I’ve found the person I was meant to be with. My missing piece. I don’t want to ever be without you. So you wanna make this thing official?” he asked and she smiled so brightly he could feel the warmth of it. 

Without a word, she leant forward and captured his lips in a kiss he wouldn’t ever forget. It was passion-filled but loving, with a swift movement he pushed her back so she was lying, her back on the mattress and he hovered above her. He looked down at her grinning like a teenager, who had just seen his first boob. She giggled before she leant up and captured his lips in another loving kiss. 

#john hancock x sole survivor #john hancock x reader #John hancock x female sole survivor #John hancok #john hancock fallout 4 #fallout 4 #fluff #fallout 4 fanfic #mayor hancock #john hancock

[forabeatofadrum]

Any way the wind blows

Summary: Kiana’s lived in Hateno her entire life, so she’s used to travellers passing through, but one of them catches her eyes. He fits the description of Aryll’s longlost brother. But Aryll’s the village’s elder, and this traveller is a teenager. Kiana tries to learn more.

Notes: A Zelda fic? You bet your sweet ass that it’s true. This is my attempt at the trope where Link reconnects with his possible sister in Breath of the Wild, but I really liked the idea of doing it from an outsider’s perspective. Hope you enjoy.

AO3

--

There’s a traveller staying at the Inn. This isn’t an uncommon thing. Many travellers stay the night at Lurelin Village before continuing. Some even stay a bit longer for a vacation. Lurelin Village is the perfect place to relax and unwind and the village is known for it.

But this traveller gains some attention.

Chessica, who runs the Inn, talks about it at the fish market and Sebasto overhears.

“He’s very handsome,” Chessica says to Mubs, “He wears a light blue tunic and a Hylian cape. He mentioned that he’s bought a house in Hateno! He carries a sword with a nice purple handle, so he must easily survive in the wild. Poor guy looks like he’s been roughed up.”

That’s all that Sebasto remembers from Chessica’s conversation. It doesn’t sound unrealistic, but the combination of a blue tunic, Hateno, and a sword with a purple handle make Sebasto frown. He’s heard of that.

He returns home to Kiana, who is talking to Kinov and Zuta. They both want to go and explore one day and Kiana desperately wants them to stay at Lurelin, especially now that it’s becoming more dangerous outside.

Lurelin is sheltered from most of Hyrule, which is why it went unscratched during the Calamity. It’s safe here.

“I’m home,” Sebasto says. The kids come over to hug him. His wife gives him a kiss on the cheek. When the two of them prepare dinner, Sebasto tells Kiana what he’s heard.

Kiana frowns when she hears the description.

“It matches, doesn’t it?” Sebasto asks.

Kiana nods. “She’s always talked about that sword. I might visit her after dinner.”

--

Kiana is too young to have experienced the Calamity. Hell, even her parents are too young to fully remember. But Kiana grew up hearing stories about it from her grandmother. Kiana’s entire family has lived in Lurelin for many generations, but her grandmother had friends all over Hyrule. Many of them died a hundred years ago.

Kiana vowed to keep the stories of the Calamity alive. That’s why she tells her children about it a lot. Everyone knows about how the majority of the Hylian population got murdered by Ganon after the soldiers, the king, Four Champions and the Chosen Hero perished. Everyone knows that they’re living in peace thanks to the princess, the sole survivor, who is keeping Ganon in the ruins of Hyrule Castle.

But people who have actually lived through the Calamity are dying out. Gorons, Gerudo and Rito have a shorter life-span than Hylians, so most survivors are already dead. Sheikah are only a bit older. Zoras will outlive them all, since a hundred years is seen as young.

But Hylians? There are a few left.

One of them is an old woman named Aryll, who’s pushing hundred ten in age. She’s originally from Hateno, but she moved here when she was ‘only’ ninety years old to live out her retirement. The entire village cares for her, especially now that she’s too old to leave the house for a long time. The sand isn’t accessible for her wheelchair, but Sebasto and some others are working on creating ramps and wooden paths for the time that she has left.

Aryll’s father and brother were soldiers in the Hylian army. Both never came back. Hateno was left alone, but after the Calamity, Aryll and her mother were wrecked with grief. Aryll’s mother died when she was only seventeen and Aryll left the village since the memories hurt.

After years of travel, she settled down here.

As a kid, Kiana was always all ears when Aryll talked about the Calamity. Since Aryll was a kid living in Hateno, she never saw any fighting, but she remembers the pain and grief and disbelief that followed.

Kiana and Aryll formed a deep friendship over the years. A couple of years into the friendship, Aryll told Kiana her biggest secret.

“The Chosen Hero was my brother. And I believe he’s alive. His name is Link.”

Sebasto doesn’t really believe it. He knows about the secret, but he thinks that Aryll’s mind is giving up on her. Kiana doesn’t know how to feel about it. She’s always been told that the Chosen Hero died protecting the princess. So even if Aryll’s brother was the Chosen Hero, then how can he be alive?

Kiana doesn’t know what the Chosen Hero actually looked like, but Aryll always described him by his trademark blue Champion tunic and his Master Sword with a purple handle and green detailing.

When Kiana visits Aryll to hand her some leftovers, she decides to not say anything. It’d be cruel to make Aryll so hopeful. But it’s at the back of her mind.

--

“I was ten when the Calamity struck. But the last time I saw my brother was when I was eight,” Aryll told Kiana. They were sitting outside of Aryll’s hut, drinking coconut juice. “My brother found the sword years before that, when he was twelve. I don’t remember what happened after that, since I was too young. But even as a six-year-old, I understood that thing were changing.”

“How so?” Kiana asked.

“Link left home a lot. My father travelled with him. I didn’t know that he was playing a part in destiny, but I understood that he had to train harder. The royal family provided housing for my father and brother in Castle Town. Personally, I’ve never been there, so I have no way of finding the remnants of that place. There isn’t much left of it these days.”

“That is… really sad,” Kiana said. She never left Lurelin Village. Travel wasn’t her passion. But she’d heard stories of friends who travelled throughout Hyrule. She knew about the many ruins.

So many lives were lost during the Calamity.

So many things destroyed.

“Link was different, I think,” Aryll continued her story, “Again, I was six when he pulled the sword. I don’t fully remember who Link was before his destiny was sealed. But Link was quiet. Sad. Burdened. At least, that’s what I heard my mother say to my father. He was different. Maybe it’s a good thing that I don’t remember what he used to be like. I can’t imagine the pain my mother went through, seeing the change. But even in this more quiet and different state, he was always kind to me and I loved him.”

--

The traveller leaves the day after, but he returns after a while. This time, Kiana sees him. He seems like a strong, young lad. Her eyes fall on his tunic, which is a bit concealed by his Hylian cape, and she sees the sheath of a sword on his back.

The tunic is light blue and it has a sword motif. The sheath is beautifully decorated.

The young man is helping out around the village, so Kiana sees her chance. She asks him if he can deliver a hearty blueshell snail and some goat butter for seafood paella.

He leaves without fulfilling the task, and Kiana decides to let it slide, but a week later he’s on her doorstep with the ingredients.

“Thank you!” Kiana says. It’s nice of him to remember.

He gives her a small nod.

“Please, have dinner with us. It’s the least that I can do.”

He looks a bit startled and he lets out a surprised grunt, but then he nods again. Kiana leads him inside. The cooking pot is outside, but the young Hylian once again looks like he needs some rest, so Kiana tells him to relax and wait inside. He balances his sword against the wall and he takes a small nap. The sheath has the royal Triforce on it.

--

“A light blue blade. Sometimes when the sunlight his the blade, it would shine. Maybe it really did shine. It had a Triforce on the blade and the handles were purple with green detailing. The sheath royal blue with gold and it was created by the blacksmith of the royal family. The Sword That Seals The Darkness had to be protected.”

“It sounds… magical.”

Aryll had a sad smile on her face.

“It was,” she said, “After the Calamity, during my travels, I learnt a lot about the prophecy. Again, I was young. I was a child. Children didn’t know about the upcoming disaster that was about to strike. I had no idea that Link was some sort of Chosen Hero with the task to aid the princess with the power of the Goddess. He was my brother and he liked eating and playing hide-and-seek. Looking back on it, he was a kid himself.”

And Kiana knew this. The Chosen Hero died at seventeen. Now that Kiana was an adult, she fully realised how young he was. When you’re a little kid, seventeen sounds so grown up.

“I’d never thought of the Chosen Hero as a kid. I never imagined him playing hide-and-seek with his sister.”

“People don’t do that. Destiny was the number one priority,” Aryll let out a sigh, “I saw less and less of him. And one day, when I was eight, he said goodbye. I never saw him again. I don’t know what happened, but the royal family must’ve gotten more serious about the threat of the Calamity, so my father and Link were living in Castle Town full time. My father sometimes visited. Link didn’t. He was too busy. My mother missed him dearly, but we were supposed to win. Link was supposed to win and come home, but he never did.”

Aryll wiped away a tear.

“Two years later, the Calamity happened. We lost. Everyone lost.”

“But you think that Link is alive?” Kiana asked. After all, it sounds like Link died. Everyone died, except for the princess.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but the hope that it gives me is all that I can hold on to,” Aryll stared at the sea, “I stopped believing in the Goddesses after the Calamity. If Gods are real, then why did this suffering happen? But I never stopped believing in Link.”

--

Sebasto comes home and Kinov and Zuta are also called home for dinner.

The young Hylian acknowledges everyone’s presence with a nod. He doesn’t talk much. Kiana’s talked to him during the cooking process and he seems to listen, but he never says anything back.

Zuta isn’t having any of it.

“What’s your name, sir?” he asks.

Kiana is about to explain to her son that some people don’t talk, but the Hylian surprises her.

“Link,” he answers before Kiana can say anything.

Kiana and Sebasto share a look. Aryll’s brother was named Link, but it’s also a popular name amongst Hylians.

“Did you and Garini find out what those ruins are for?”

Link nods, but he also says: “Yes, I am working on it.”

“Oooooh!”

Zuta has met him before? Kiana can’t dwell on it. She has some seafood paella to finish. Kinov has been standing next to her, staring into the cooking pot, and he’s waiting for his favourite dish to be ready. Link and Zuta talk some more about ruins. Should Kiana scold her son for easily talking to strangers?

Well, at least Link is nice.

Sebasto hands her the mighty porgy that he caught and after a couple more minutes, everyone’s sitting outside around the cooking pot with a bowl of seafood paella. Link doesn’t say much, but Zuta and Kinov talk enough.

Life in Lurelin is simple and filled with routine, but when you’re a kid, every day is an adventure. Link listens attentively to the stories.

At one point, Sebasto and Kiana look at each other and Kiana gives her husband a small nod.

“So, Link, where are you from?” Sebasto asks.

Once again, Link looks startled by the sudden attention.

“Hateno,” he mumbles.

“Oh, lovely!” Kiana says, “I’ve never been. What brings you to Lurelin?”

“I travel a lot. I heard about Lurelin. Decided to check it out.”

“Well, I’m glad you did!” Sebasto says. Kiana knows that Sebasto has asked Link to defeat some monsters for him.

“Why do you travel so much?” Zuta asks.

Link shrugs.

“Doesn’t your family miss you?” Zuta asks. Link looks at him. Zuta looks curious. “Mum keeps telling me that she’ll miss me lots when I grow up. That’s because I want to travel through all of Hyrule when I am a big boy!”

“Rito Village is really nice,” Link says. He doesn’t answer the question. Kinov notices.

Kiana often thinks that the curiosity of her children is a curse, since they impulsively ask questions, but now it’s in her favour.

“But your family!” Kinov says.

Link looks at his bowl of food. Kiana wants to know more, but she’s also feeling bad for him. Sebasto also dislikes the sad look on their guest’s face. Kiana is about to change the subject, but then-

“Don’t have any.”

Silence.

Even Zuta and Kinov understand that it’s sad.

Sebasto is the first to compose himself. “I’m sorry to hear that, Link.”

Zuta tugs Link’s sleeve, which makes Link look at him. Zuta’s eyes are sad.

“No one? How?”

“Zuta!” both Sebasto and Kiana say at the same time. That is very rude.

“I don’t know,” Link replies to Zuta.

Kinov tugs his other sleeve. “How do you not know?”

Link gives Kinov a sad smile. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“If you don’t tell us, then we don’t know if we’d believe you,” Zuta points out.

“Kids…” Sebasto says with a stern tone.

But Link shrugs. “Fair point.”

“How?” Zuta asks again.

A part of Kiana still wants to tell Link that he doesn’t have to tell them, but everything adds up with Aryll’s story. This Hylian is named Link, he wears a blue tunic with a sword motif, his sword’s sheath is decorated with a Triforce, his sword has a purple and green handle, and he’s from Hateno. But he’s also clearly a teenager. So Kiana is curious. After all, her kids got it from her.

“I was asleep for a hundred years,” Link says.

Well, that certainly is unexpected.

Kinov frowns and Zuta also looks unconvinced. Link gives them a sad smile.

“I told you. You don’t believe me.”

“You’re old, but not super old,” Kinov points out.

“I am a hundred and seventeen,” Link says.

Seventeen. The Chosen Hero was seventeen when he died.

Zuta laughs. “You’re lying!”

But Link doesn’t laugh along.

“What happened?” Sebasto asks with a serious tone. He believes it. Or maybe he tries to understand. It indeed sounds very unlikely.

“I was hurt,” Link says quietly, “Some of my friends put me to sleep to heal my wounds. When I woke up, I didn’t remember who I was. I am travelling, because I want to learn more about who I am.”

“Is it working?” Kinov asks. He’s on the edge of his seat and his seafood paella is long forgotten. Kiana never thought that it was possible for Kinov to not care about seafood paella.

Link shrugs. “A bit.”

“But you don’t remember your family,” Sebasto says out loud, filling in the gaps. That’s what’s left unsaid.

Link gives him a sad look and Kiana knows that her husband is right.

“I remember my, uh, job. I was a knight in the Hylian army. I served the king. And I remember some… friends.”

The way Link says it makes Kiana think that there’s more to those words, but she doesn’t want to push. If this is real, then he’s from before the Calamity. He mentioned the king! Hyrule hasn’t had a monarchy in a century after the Calamity ended it.

Aryll mentioned that her brother started out as a knight.

“But no family,” Kiana says, just to push him back to that direction. If this is all true, then Aryll’s story fits perfectly. Kiana is also on the edge of her seat. She can’t believe what’s happening.

“I… I know I had one,” Link says sadly. He’s staring at the fire underneath the cooking pot. His bowl of seafood paella is almost falling off his knees. “I think- I mean, I must have. I have a memory of my friend where she mentions that my father was a knight as well, so I am not an orphan. I had a father. Maybe another parent. A mother? Another father? I don’t know. I think we lived in Hateno. I bought a house there and I think it is mine. Or my parents’. I don’t know. Maybe I never will.”

Link looks so devastated when he says that. It makes Kiana tear up.

Zatu takes the bowl from Link’s knees. He then climbs on Link’s lap to give him a hug. Link hugs Zatu as if he needed it, but he also looks very confused and sad.

“And I think I’ve done this before. Hugging a child. I think I had a sibling once.”

This is it.

Link is hugging Zatu, so he doesn’t notice how Sebasto and Kiana shoot each other another meaningful glance.

“But I don’t remember. They were younger than me. I think. If they’re real. I try to imagine the faces of the people that I’ve lost, but there’s… nothing.”

At this point, Link is talking to himself.

“All that I remember are things that have to do with my destiny or my duty. But I must’ve had parents. Did I look like them? Did they miss me? Are they proud of me?”

He’s fully talking to himself now, but he’s still clinging to Zatu. Link has been silent for most of the time here and when he did talk, he spoke in short sentences, but now he’s going all out. He’s staring at the fire and there are tears forming in his eyes.

Sebasto puts his hand on Link’s arm in support.

“Are they dead? They must be. Hylians don’t often live past hundred, and they were old enough to have a child, or children, so there’s no way that they’re alive. Maybe if I have a sibling, they could be alive, but that would be a rarity. But will they still recognise me? Do we look alike? Did I love them?”

Kiana sniffs and Sebasto tells Link that everything will be alright.

Link looks at him as if he’s finally remembering that he’s not alone.

“Don’t be sad, mister Link,” Zuta says, “We can be your family.”

“That’s very nice.”

They finish their food in silence. Even the kids are quiet. Their dinner has gone cold, but no one mentions it. Afterwards, Sebasto cleans up and Kiana puts the kids to bed. They would like to offer a sleeping space for Link, but the huts are small, but Link is okay with going to the Inn.

When the kids are asleep, Kiana thinks it’s time to do something.

Kiana, Sebasto and Link are sitting outside. Sebasto and Link are talking about fishing techniques, but Kiana has a more pressing matter.

“Link, does the name Aryll ring a bell?” Kiana asks.

Link looks at her with wide eyes.

But that’s it. He doesn’t react. In fact, he seems frozen in time. Sebasto waves in front of his face.

“What do we do?” he asks his wife in alarm.

Link is still staring into nothingness. Kiana kneels in front of him to shake him, but nothing.

“Kiana,” Sebasto sounds worried.

“I don’t know. Is the medic awake?”

But just when Sebasto is about to run off, Link lets out a loud gasp and he almost falls backwards off the stool. Kiana steadies him.

“Link, kid, what happened?” Sebasto also crouches in front of him.

Link looks at the two Hylians in front of him before bursting into tears. Some of the neighbours notice, so Sebasto and Kiana guide him inside.

Link cries for ages. Kiana sits next to him to rub his back and Sebasto cuts open a coconut for a cup of fresh juice. They give him time.

“I had a sister,” he says. He’s confused. Kiana and Sebasto are too. How did he know? “When you said Aryll, I remembered something.”

--

“My favourite memory of Link is the time that the two of us went swimming in pond at Ebon mountain. I didn’t know it represented heartbreak. I didn’t even realise it was shaped like a broken heart. Maybe it was foreshadowing. The Calamity was going to break us apart. We loved each other. Family love is as strong as romantic love. I was young and I had only recently learnt to swim. Link was back in Hateno for the first time in weeks.”

Aryll had a happy smile on her face. The memory made her happy.

Kiana smiled too. Aryll rarely smiled during their talks about her brother, since it hurt too much, so this was a nice change.

“I don’t know how he found that place. Probably during his travels. I know that he and our father also travelled throughout the kingdom for his training. Or maybe he wandered off when he was home in Hateno, since it’s close by. Anyway, he found it. Swimming was a luxury, so it was nice that I got the chance to learn.”

Kiana thought that was odd. Everyone in Lurelin could swim and Zuta and Kinov were starting with lessons soon, but Kiana grew up near the ocean. It had never occurred to her that it wasn’t a priority for others.

“We swam and we had fun. It was a hot day and the water was cool. He’d packed a lunch and it was a day trip. Unfortunately, Link didn’t tell anyone. You should’ve seen the look on our father’s face when he finally found us after searching for hours. Link wasn’t fazed. Looking back on it, he probably didn’t tell anyone on purpose. He could just have fun with his sister, playing the water. He didn’t have to be some Chosen Hero that day.”

--

“We went swimming in the pond at- I think it is called Ebon mountain. It’s close to Hateno. I haven’t been there since I woke up. Too busy.”

Sebasto hands him a tissue.

“I didn’t tell anyone of our trip. I was home and it was the first time in weeks that I’d seen her. Aryll never knew about the mission, so we went swimming and it was fun. Just fun.”

Sebasto doesn’t know that story. Aryll only told Kiana and Kiana never managed to tell her husband. Not because she didn’t want to or anything. It just never came up. Because of that, Sebasto doesn’t understand that Link just confirmed everything.

Kiana doesn’t know how to break the news gently.

Maybe there isn’t a way to break the news gently.

So instead of finding a proper way to tell Link, Kiana just blurts it out.

“I know your sister. She lives here in the village.”

--

Kiana knocks on Aryll’s door. Link’s behind her. He looks like he hasn’t slept all night and that’s probably the case. Link went back to the Inn last night. He probably needed some time to process everything.

Yesterday, Kiana told him everything that she knows. Now, it’s time for Link to see his sister. He’s silent. He hasn’t said a word to Kiana, but his mind must be filled with thoughts.

“Who’s there?” Aryll yells from inside. Good. She’s awake.

“Aryll, it’s me, Kiana,” Kiana calls out, “I’m coming in. I have a guest for you.”

“Come in, lass.”

Kiana pushes the door open. Aryll is lying in her bed with a book in her hands. She smiles when she sees Kiana.

“Kiana, darling, you’re usually not this early. Mubs has already brought me breakfast and-”

She trails off when she sees who’s standing behind Kiana. She closes her eyes. Then she opens them again. She’s looking at Link as if she can’t believe what she’s seeing. Kiana moves aside so that Link can go to his sister.

“Ryllie?” Link asks nervously.

Something in Aryll snaps. She throws the book away and she uses both hands to reach for Link’s face. She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. Tears form in her eyes. Aryll cups Link’s face and Link puts his hand on hers.

Kiana backs away. She’s crying herself and it feels like she’s intruding on something deeply personal here.

Aryll notices the movement. Her eyes flick towards Kiana.

“You found him,” Aryll finally says and he lets out a teary laugh, “I told you that he’s alive!”

“You did,” Kiana nods and she wipes away her tears to no avail. Everyone’s crying openly.

She looks back to Link. “You’re really here.”

“I’m really here.”

Aryll looks up and down. She’s seeing Link’s young body. “How? I heard rumours from the Sheikah, but how?””

Link lets out a sob and almost jumps on the bed. Kiana wants to warn him that his sister is breakable, but when Link holds her, he’s so gentle. Both brother and sister are crying in each other’s arms. Kiana sees that as her moment to go.

She backs away and she closes Aryll’s front door behind her.

--

Both Link and Aryll don’t talk about what was said that day. Kiana can understand. That’s between the two of them.

Kiana and Sebasto aren’t surprised that Link comes back more often. He hasn’t told them why he’s travelling so much, and Aryll also doesn’t budge, but they can work it out themselves. They still don’t fully understand how all of this happened, but it probably has something to do with the princess, Calamity Ganon, and the rise of monsters throughout the kingdom.

Sebasto rallied everyone in Lurelin together to build the ramps and wooden pathways for Aryll’s wheelchair so that she has more mobility. These days, she spends most of the time at the beach now that it’s accessible.

Link shows up at least once a week and all the locals start to recognise him. Chessica always keeps a bed free for him. Only Kiana and Sebasto know the truth. To everyone else it looks like Aryll made a new friend and everyone’s glad about it.

Link always has dinner with the family. He and Zuta explore the beach. Sebasto learn about fish from different sides of the world. Kinov is happy to have met a fellow glutton. And Link always comes back with goat butter and a hearty blueshell snail for Kiana.

He also has a weird technological device that can capture the surroundings as a realistic painting. It’s mesmerising. Link shows everyone where he’s been during his travels and Aryll even remembers some places from her own travels.

One day, Aryll mentions that it’s almost Link’s birthday, which he had completely forgotten, and they have a little party in the village.

But one week, he doesn’t show up.

“He’s probably busy,” Kiana says to Aryll. They’re sitting at the beach.

“He hasn’t missed a single week since he came back,” Aryll points out. She sounds worried.

“Look, he’s the Chosen Hero of the Wild, he knows how to survive out there. He’ll be back.”

And he does. A week later, he arrives at Lurelin Village on his trusty horse. The moment Kiana sees him, she drops everything to run to him.

“You’re back!” Kiana says as Link dismounts his horse. She’s so busy fussing over Link and how healthy he looks that Kiana doesn’t notice a second horse approaching. Kiana pulls at Link’s arm, leading him towards Aryll’s hut.

Link lets out a surprised noise. He’s strong, so he stops Kiana easily.

“What is it?”

Link smiles and turns towards another Hylian. She has long blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes, and she’s wearing the same royal blue colours like Link. She dismounts her white horse and curtsies in front of Kiana.

“Miss Kiana, I’ve heard a lot about you,” the Hylian says, “My name is Zelda.”

Kiana knows that name. She looks at Link in shock and he gives her a knowing smile. Living in Lurelin means that you’re mostly cut off from most of Hyrule, but if she’s here, then that means that the Calamity is finally over.

“Welcome to Lurelin Village,” Kiana manages to say in her shocked state, “Shall I take care of your horses? Link, Aryll is in her hut.”

“Thanks,” Link says softly. Both Link and Zelda pet their horses before handing the reigns to Kiana.

Then, Link takes Zelda’s hand and together they walk towards Aryll’s hut. Kiana watches them go with a smile.

#the legend of zelda #breath of the wild #loz botw #loz fic #zelda fanfiction #idk what to tag man this is the first and probably only time that i am writing for this fandom #i did enjoy it #oneshot #2021 #holy fuck I wrote #also ugh my mind i chose this title for a reason #i named some of my simon snow fics after the master sword #so lemme reverse it now

[pumpkinov]

Where the Dust Settles

This chapter is a little weird, but there's lots of things I need to set up. Bear with me, I promise, we're heading somewhere with this!

You can read Chapter 1 here

Portia Collins, the sole survivor of Vault 111 has lost more than most. With the Institute defeated, she sets her sights to the next big jobs - unification of the Commonwealth wastelands and the large warship docked at the Boston Airport. More work for the General of the Minutemen, who is finding herself increasingly alone as her companions move on with their lives. John Hancock, the Ghoul Mayor of Goodneighbour is struggling to find his footing in the new political climate of the Commonwealth, and is finding a surprisingly vocal supporter in his local Minuteman General.

Chapter 2. I can hold a grudge like nobody’s business

There is an important meeting, Piper chain-smokes and Hancock climbs a heavy set of stairs.

He fucking showed.

“Well, fuck me.” Portia exhaled in surprise, as the red figure approaching her across the quiet square held his arms out wide. There was an interesting leap in her chest as he grinned. Fuck he was smug. But it was hard not to smile back, despite the almost constant urge to hit him.

Mayor Hancock was an anomaly.

“Good morning, General.” He whipped his tricorn hat off his head and held it to his chest as he dropped into an exaggerated bow.

“Good morning, Mayor.” Portia offered him a cigarette, which he accepted. They stood in silence for a moment, their breath fogging between them. It was still in the square, it had snowed overnight and the ground beneath their feet was covered in a soft powder that would no doubt turn to a dirty, watery sludge by midday. The air was crisp, and Portia’s nose and cheeks were already turning red. The sun lay in bars across the ground as it rose through the buildings.

Hancock exhaled smoke. “You’re surprised to see me, aren’t you?”

Portia raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t pick you for an early riser.”

He shrugged, flicking the ash off the tip of his cigarette. “I don’t sleep much.” He paused, then grinned wickedly, “Bed serves a different purpose these days.”

Portia opened her mouth to scold him, but was interrupted.

“General?” She turned to see Preston walking down the steps of the Rexford. He was in better shape than she expected, honestly. He had a dark hickey on the side of his neck, but his eyes weren’t bloodshot and he wasn’t swaying.

“Good night, Preston?” Portia asked, reaching to adjust his scarf. He grinned broadly, and batted her hand away.

Hancock snickered, and pitched his cigarette butt into the gutter. “Should we get this freakshow on the road?”

Preston hummed in agreement, slinging his laser musket across his shoulder.

Portia’s rifle was strapped to her back, her pistol strapped to one leg, and her combat knife strapped to the other. She eyed Hancock, who appeared weaponless. He waved an arm towards the entrance of Goodneighbour. “After you!”

The streets of Boston were quiet this early in the morning. The regular patrols of Minutemen and traders helped keep the path between Diamond City and Goodneighbour relatively safe, though all three kept their heads on a swivel as they made their way through the shell of the city.

Hancock moved slightly ahead of them, and Preston fell into step next to her.

“How did you convince him to come?” He asked, quietly. Preston had spent a good hour trying to convince the mayor to accompany them to the council meeting the day before.

Portia shrugged. “I appealed to his better nature.”

Preston hummed a little, “You wore him down.” Portia knocked her shoulder against him, causing him to sway a little. He grinned back at her, before adjusting his hat. “I’m glad he’s here. I know he’s a pain in the ass, but-”

“He’s a wildcard.” Portia muttered. “I’m not sure if he’s going to dazzle them all, or stab them all.”

Preston shrugged. “It’s the Commonwealth, General. That’s a risk we’re always taking.”

Hancock stopped, spinning on his boot heel. A shotgun had appeared in his hands, and his face was serious. “If you two are done gossiping, we have company.” A bullet whistled past Portia’s side, and she heard the garbled cry of the supermutant who had shot it. The angry green face attached to the cry peered out from the side of a building just up ahead. Portia whipped her rifle off her back, as Preston cranked his laser musket. She aimed and fired off a shot, clipping the mutant in the shoulder. He cried and stumbled, before letting another bullet fly, at Hancock this time. The mutant’s aim was off, and Preston dispatched him with ease.

Another mutant appeared in the doorway of the building, running headlong at Hancock. She heard his rough laugh, before he unloaded a shell into the green creature’s face. He disappeared from her view in an explosion of blood and gore, both Portia and Preston breaking into a run to reach him. He was standing over the headless body of the mutant, his face pulled into a snarl that made him almost unrecognizable. Portia reached for him, her fingers brushing his coat.

“Hancock, are you-” She faltered a little, his eyes were wide and wild. There was a flash of memory, Portia; fresh out of the deep freeze and entering Goodneighbour, Hancock sliding a knife between the ribs of a man who had threatened her. The face was the same. Hancock took a breath, and adjusted his hat. The fierce look started to melt out of his eyes as he looked at her, his breath rising hot in front of his face in the crisp air.

“I’m fine, sister. And you two?”

“We’re fine.” Portia realised she was still holding onto his sleeve, and released it. Preston clapped Hancock on the shoulder.

“Excellent spotting, sorry we were late on the draw.”

Hancock smirked a little, looking more like himself. “Lucky I have my cat-like reflexes, Garvey.” Preston grinned ruefully, “Look I’ll take that. I’ll spot the next ones.”

“Good man.” Hancock gripped Preston’s wrist tightly, eyes shining.

The rest of the way to Diamond City was uneventful.

There were two familiar figures standing at the gates to the city. Piper was smoking furiously, pacing back and forward. Nick Valentine stood straight and still, watching for their arrival. Portia’s chest warmed at the sight of the pair. Preston raised a hand in greeting, and when they were in earshoot Piper pitched her cigarette and broke out into a jog, colliding with Portia and smacking a loud kiss on the side of her head. “Blue!” Portia laughed and wrapped her arms around Piper, lifting her feet a little off the ground. Piper reached for her battered red hat to stop it sliding off her head, “Put me down!” she shrieked. Portia released her as they moved forward, keeping a hand on Piper’s arm as she staggered a little.

They reached Nick, who shook Preston’s hand warmly before enfolding Portia in a hug. His metal hand pushed briefly between her shoulder blades before he released her. His yellow eyes landed on Hancock, who stood slightly aside from them.

“It’s good to see you, John.”

“Likewise, Nicky.” Hancock rasped, his eyes crinkling again at the corners. Piper pursed her lips, another cigarette already clamped between them. Portia squeezed her hand, before turning her attention to Preston.

“Are we ready for this, Garvey?”

Preston met her gaze. He looked nervous, but resolute. He nodded. “Yes General, I think we are.”

Portia smiled a little, trepidation twisting through her stomach. “Right, let’s get this over with.”

Hancock hesitated at the steps. He watched the welcome party climb the stairs ahead of him, talking excitedly. He took a deep breath - the place looked almost unchanged. His sense of smell wasn’t the strongest these days, but he could still make out the smell of Takashi’s noodles, the scent of paint and dirt. Diamond fuckin’ City. He never thought he’d come back here. He took a deep breath, and stepped onto the first step. The rest were easier to take.

McDonough’s old office had been stripped bare. There were chairs gathered in a semicircle, with Piper set up at the desk in the corner. There were settlers clumped in groups around the room, Hancock stood to the side, leaning against the wall, observing. Trying not to notice the bloodstain in the corner where the synth (his brother?) had died a few months previously. The floor was wet from the melting snow off everyone’s shoes. His eyes followed Portia as she moved around the room, greeting people. She was smiling, touching people, remembering names and faces. He didn’t really recognise any of the people in this room, except for Wiseman, who ran The Slog. Their eyes met, but there was no flicker of recognition in the old ghoul’s eyes. Wiseman remembered a different John, in a different lifetime. Eventually Portia arrived at the front of the room, and it fell quiet. She cleared her throat, and glanced up. Her eyes met Hancock’s for a moment. He felt a smile stretch the corner of his mouth up, and she bit down on her bottom lip, smiling in response. There was warmth in those eyes, despite how cold she could be. Lady will be the absolute death of me he thought idly, his eyes drifting down her frame as she started speaking.

“Welcome, everyone. This is the first time in a long time we’ve had a meeting like this. The people in this room represent the settlements of the Commonwealth, and for anyone in this room who may not know me, I am General Collins, leader of the Commonwealth Minutemen. This is my second in command, Preston Garvey, and I’ve bought you all here today to discuss the future of Diamond City, and the future of the Commonwealth as a whole.”

Portia had been right all along, Hancock mused to himself, this meeting had been important. And deeply, deathly boring. They discussed trade routes, infrastructure, and people brought up grievances both imagined and real. He tried to listen, he really did, but similar to his brief foray into education he found his mind drifting. He slid a box out of his pocket, and placed a mentat on his tongue. As he was trying to surreptitiously close the box again, he glanced up and caught Piper’s eye. She frowned at him disapprovingly, and he fought against the childish urge to poke his tongue out at her. He glanced out the window and saw that the sun was already heading back down again in the sky, how the fuck was it late afternoon already? His gaze fell down to the market below them, watching the small smudges that were the citizens of Diamond City go about their business. It looked the same from when he was younger. Except it wasn’t the same. Not anymore.

Portia was still standing in the front of the semicircle of chairs. She had tied her long brown hair back off her face while Hancock had been staring out the window, and he realised he’d never seen her with her hair up. The back and sides of her head were shaved. He wondered idly how those shaved parts would feel against the palms of his hands and grinned quietly to himself. He felt the mentat starting to work as it melted in his mouth, he was finding the words coming from the General a lot easier to follow. She was discussing the upcoming election for the new mayor of Diamond City.

“I think we’ve probably covered enough for one day,” she smiled, rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes briefly. “We’ll meet up again tomorrow, to discuss the Diamond City election a little more before this meeting is completely adjourned. Are there any questions before we call it a day?”

There were murmurs as a negative response to her question from the rest of the settlers, but Hancock found himself pushing his upper body off against the wall and stepping forward.

“I have a question, actually.”

Portia’s eyes met his from across the room. Her eyes were no longer warm, they were tired and guarded, but she still inclined her head.

“The floor recognises Mayor Hancock, of Goodneighbour.”

Heads turned to stare at him, and he found himself smiling, not in a particularly pleasant way. He fixed his stare on Geneva, sitting in one the chairs closest to Portia, his idiot brother’s old assistant.

“I’d like to know what plans are in place to remove the Anti Ghoul Decree of 2282?” He swirled the mentat around his mouth languidly, feeling it spike in the back of his skull. “Since both myself and Wiseman here are standing in the former mayor’s office, I would assume it has been retired at least in a non official capacity?”

Geneva looked at Portia, then Preston, then met his gaze. “Diamond City currently has only a small council, no changes to policy can be made at this time.”

Hancock raised a bony ridge where an eyebrow would be. “And is there discussion to remove it once there is a new mayor?”

“I - uh -” Geneva trailed off, looking back at Portia for assistance. Portia sighed, and stepped forward.

“That’s an excellent question Mayor, let’s table it and add it to the agenda to discuss tomorrow?” Her eyes met his again, this time pleading.

“I’d really like an answer now.” He smiled. She took another step forward.

“Mayor I don’t believe anyone has the capacity to answer this -”

“It’s a simple question,” he stepped backwards, opening his arms wide and looking around the room. “I just want to know if there’s any plans to allow the ghoul’s who used to live here to come home? The ones who survived, of course.”

The silence was heavy in the room. No one would look at him except Wiseman, whose face was emotionless.

“Good to know.” Hancock returned his gaze to Portia, and smiled. “Good to know. That’s all I had General, thank you.”

#fallout 4 #fanfic #John Hancock #Hancock #hancock/sole survivor #hancock/female sole #Where The Dust Settles

[commonwealthoccurences]

Cait HCs: Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Request: “This is probably dumb, but could I trouble you to do some headcanons of Cait and the Sole Survivor starting off bickering constantly then eventually they're friends, and then they somehow end up lovers after an argument?”

CW: Mentions/descriptions of violence, unhealthy communication methods

Sole liked to think they’re an understanding person, but God did Cait push their buttons

Between the constant complaining for no reason, the way she snapped at people for the littlest things, and the fact that they could never seem to agree, they were doomed from the start

But Sole needed the extra hands and they’d be damned if they gave in to Cait’s grating personality and let her skip out on their contract

So, out of pure stubbornness, they kept her as a companion

They spent more time arguing than in silence

It got to the point where Daisy insisted that only one of them was allowed in her shop at a time; they didn’t bring her enough for her to sit through their endless bickering

Then Cait started using the silent treatment

They’d never admit it, never say a word, but Sole much preferred their arguing over the silence that Cait weaponized against them

So ever the master of communication (/s), Sole decided to throw that back in her face

And then it was silent all the time, everywhere they went

Unless it was the sharp ringing of gunfire, the clanging of pots being pulled out of Sole’s pack for the evening meal once they’d set up camp, the splashing as they waded through bothersome streams to get to their destination, it was silent

If Cait hated Sole, she hated her own tactics being used against her x10 more

But she never said a word; it was a torturous game of chicken- who would break first

Of course, both of them were more stubborn than any other person in the Commonwealth

One fateful day, they were trekking towards Diamond City, weaving their way through the remains of Boston, weighed down by goods ready to be sold and the lack of sleep that had been eating at them

Cait decided to silently stomp ahead, trying to communicate that Sole was much too slow and it was their fault that they were so far behind schedule

It also could’ve had to do with the Yao Guai they encountered, and then the storm that kept them holed up in shelter for a full day, but in her mind Sole was to blame

Sole simply let her charge forward, not resisting the urge to roll their eyes

She was only out of sight for a few moments before Sole realized things had gotten too quiet

It wasn’t just the fact that they could no longer hear her footsteps, but the crows had gone silent, and in fact, had taken off entirely

Sole had to think fast

They dropped the heavy backpack that was encumbering them as carefully as they could, wincing when it emitted a slight rattling

Their footsteps were almost silent as they crept forward on the balls of their feet, pistol pulled from it’s holster and held with both hands in front of them

There was a blind corner up ahead; no doubt that’s where Cait had stopped

Luckily for Sole, there was a way around; a window leading to crumbled section of the wall that blocked their sight

With every footstep they nearly lost ten years off their life, thanking the universe that they hadn’t managed to crunch broken glass, or anything else that would make their position known

The seconds crawled by, but eventually, they made it through the shortcut and rounded the corner

There was a single Raider, holding Cait at knifepoint, clearly lying in wait for Sole

It was a stupid plan, considering he had a knife and Sole was very much armed with several guns, but nontheless, he had Cait with a knife to her throat. It wasn’t the ideal setup in any situation

Shooting him chest or head was no good; the bullet could travel through and end up hurting Cait. The leg wouldn’t help either. As nice as it would be to keep him from walking, he could still hurt Cait quite easily if he thought fast enough. Arm it was, then; they only hoped the element of surprise and pain would be enough to get him to drop his weapon

Sole squeezed the trigger, flinched at the resulting BANG, and nearly swore in relief when the knife fell to the crumbling concrete

Cait reacted quickly, thankfully, and turned faster than he could blink to punch him in the face and send him sprawling to the ground

It took just another moment for Sole to pull the trigger again, lodging a bullet in the raider’s skull, and then the situation was over, and the two were left to catch their breath

Cait didn’t say anything, just turned and wiped a hand across her face before patting Sole on the shoulder and nodding to them

After that, they were… well, Sole supposed they were friends, which isn’t something they ever thought they would say

Their conversations weren’t long, and maybe it was out of mutual embarrassment once they’d realized how immature they were acting, but they communicated, and that was an upgrade

Then, they started joking around

Much to everyone’s relief, the two eventually considered each other friends

And then, Sole’s brain had to do the unimaginable

They found themself caring a little too much about Cait

It was hard to resist the urge to go back to the silent treatment; it was much easier to deal with things by not acknowledging them whatsoever

It culminated one evening in them snapping at Cait

Now don’t get her wrong; she also viewed them as friends, but she wouldn’t take shit from anybody, and that includes Sole

Arguing about how to set up camp for the night devolved into arguing about everything under the sun, and it felt as if they were back to square one

Then, Cait had to go and open her mouth and sarcastically yelled, “Jesus Christ, yer so far up my ass right now with yer bullshit, it’s obvious ya just wanna kiss me.” with a sneer.

Well, Sole wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, and so they took the few steps it took to get in her space and kissed her

That was the first time Sole had ever seen Cait speechless

They both began fumbling over their words, Cait trying to find the means to respond to something like that, and Sole trying to find an excuse

Then, Cait stopped. “I was right.”

“If you don’t shut up I’ll kiss you again, since it seems that’s the only way for you to stop yelling.”

Yeah, it was a long night

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Headcanons #HCs #Cait #Sole Survivor #Enemies to friends #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers

[elrosil]

(Soundtrack for the story) TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE, CURSING, ILLIDARI CRUDENESS

Elrosil sat leaned up against the wall after a long day of Illidari training, she drank a bottle of water and looked up at the sky, tracing the Black Temple with her light green eyes and looks over to the side at the fellow elves training with her. A man suddenly leaned against the wall next to her, it made a loud thud. She looks over slowly, "The fuck? Oh hey....sup Sinmar?"

The male Sin'dorei, very handsome leaned in a kissed Elrosil on the cheat, "Hey you. So have you put any thought into it?"   "Into what? What demon to hunt for my ritual? Yeah think I know what I want."

"What demon?" he smirks and moves matted by sweat hair from her face.

She looks over slowly to him, "Shivarra."

He looks dumb founded and blinks a few times, "What? You want to go for the same demon as me? El....come on...."

She narrows her brows, "Come on what?" she swats away his hand and studies his eye, "You dont think I can hunt one do you?"

He shakes his head, "Come on Elrosil....your like.....a C class Illidari at best....you spend more time on your back then taking things serious....those arent easy demons to capture....why not go for something more your speed....like...an imp...."

Her mouth hangs open slightly, as she shoves him away from her personal space, "Excuse you....just because you think I dont take myself serious, doesnt mean I dont....you dont know the first thing about me....." she walks over and picks up her warglaive and runs off.

Two more Ilidari join Sinmar, one grabbing a bottle of water and the other looks at him and then points at Elrosil, "Where is she going? Did you piss her off again?"

He looks at his friends, "She is off to get herself killed, she thinks she can hunt a Shivarra for her ritual...."

The other two male Sin'Dorei snort a laugh.

"Yeah what I said...inside....she is off to get herself killed."

Elrosil slaps her warglaives onto her back and shakes her head quite annoyed, "I will show those fucking haters....dont think I am a capable of catching a big ass demon, that little dick prick said hunt an imp, will shove an imp down his throat where he spends the next week shitting a imp tooth enema....fucking Sin'dorei....."

She grumbled and muttered for hours about Sin'dorei not noticing she two was hunted. Shadowmoon always had a darkness to it, but suddenly it was darker than normal, a shadow cast upon her. Elrosil knew it something was behind her. She turns quickly the massive sapphire six armed demon stood behind her, swinging down all six sword clad arms to drive her blades into the feeble elf. Elrosil dipped forward, rolling onto her shoulder between the legs of the demon, grasping a handful of stones, tossing them at the the back of the legs of the demon as came out on the other side.

The Shivarra swings its two upper arms down at Elrosil, falling back and roll out of harms way, swords raked the dirt she just knelt at. Taking a stand she leaps over a nearby stone to get out of the way of the six armed sword smith. She turns to face the demon look face to face, the demon would kill her, she knew it. But she was going to show those other elves, show everyone she could accomplish the greatest of feats. She pushes off the blackened gravel and runs towards the demon, swinging her arms in different directions, maze and razor steel showed only one clear path. Elrosil spring boarding off the rock she just hopped over, she clamped her thighs onto the abdomen of the Shivarra, her leather pants shredded in the fan of blades she had to get through.

Not able to remove her glaives she did the only thing she knew, to take it to the streets, punching her fist in to the packed core of the demon. It felt like punching stone. She grit and grunted as she was relentless on the demon, not stopping, no matter how much her knuckles bleed. The Shivarra cackled, turning her sword, where the flat of it cut into back of Elrosil shirt, like a clothes hanger wields a top, the blade hugged between her shoulder blades. Elrosil hissed in pain as the demon peel the elf from her body.

Dropped to the ground, Elrosil looks up at the demon who could of easily snapped her back. The sneer of pearly fangs as the demons lullaby voice spoke, "You are brave or stupid, I will give you that. Now stand and fight and die with your honor."

Elrosil pushes herself up slowly, blood painting her leather garbs backside. She spits to the side and reaches behind her to remove the glaives. The demon swung with incredible speed, disarming the glaives, the clatter of the metal, heard behind her, Elrosil watched them fly through the air and back at the demon, "How am I to fight you with no weapons? What about honor?"

"You did not seem to need those weapons a moment ago...fight me with that same passion, not with your weapons...."

Elrosil knew she couldn't win this way. She was at a disadvantage. She snarls and had no other choice at the time, she clenches a tight fist and nods, "Very well."

The Shivarra confident she could kill the sole elf she swings down all six blades at the spot that Elrosil stood. Elrosil skips forward, stepping onto the knee of the demon, her left heel driving down into the rib cage, in full swing with a kick flip, claps the top of her right foot into the chin of the Shivarra, landing on the ground with bent knees, grabbing a stone, large enough to be used as a murder weapon, but small enough that her agility was not compromised.

With the slanted hat demon she turns to swing those blades at Elrosil. The stone is lifted up in the air, catching the first sword, pushing into it, Elrosil kicks out her leg into the knee as hard as she could muster, drawing back as the demon staggered forward, swinging the stone to collide with the Shivarra's face as she lowered to Elrosil level. She spins quickly as the demon brought a hooked hand around, in full swing with her stone kissing the side of her face, the stone hammered with a blade, sparks of earthen dust spray into the Illidari in trainings face.

She coughs, using that movement, and escape peel back, taking her rock with her. The sword impales the ground, allowing Elrosil to strike once more. Spinning twice around to get speed as she slams that stone right back into the face of the Shivarra. The demon sputters a glob of fel blood to the ground where they fought and snarls looking back at Elrosil. The demon stood up, striking the ground in front of Elrosil, which she jumped back to avoid, the fours arm lift overhead cleaving downwards to strike her. She lifts her stone to meet all four blades. The sheer force alone cut through the stone, dulling the first set of blades to strike past Elrosil, but the last two clipped into her shoulders.

She howled in pain, looking up as she demon had trapped her in metal. The Shivarra wasted no time and has the other four arms hold Elrosil in place and stand up lifting her in the air to look the elf face to face. She would commend her before killing her. She never fought like this.

"A shame really....you fought different, everyone who fights the Legion, are skilled, trained, disciplined, but you are rare....you fought like a survivor, thrown in this situation, a situation you were never pre...."

Trying to go on with her speech, Elrosil despite her pain head butt the demon, only to get the roaring cackle out of her, "As I said a survivor.....and sadly this is your end...."

"Or yours!" Elrosil snarls as she reaches into her tattered crimson soaked tunic, she never had just glaives, she pulled from the back of her pants two daggers, in such close range, she drove both daggers in the same fashion that the Shivarra attacked and jabbed the daggers into the eye socks of the demon. The demon howled in pain jolting around in a panic, releasing from the swords in Elrosil body, to only have her dig and swirl those daggers deeper into the eyes, removing from the socket and swinging around her arm to strike the demons face a second, third and fourth time, until it fell to the ground, fell back and cradled Elrosil from the fall.

She had won, she would should them now.

What was weeks later, the Illidari in training lined up with Kayn Sunfury before them, as he looks at the lineup, "It would be appear Elrosil is missing, seems her hunt was not successful."

Sinmar shakes his head, "She should of stuck to hunting an imp, she was never skilled enough to take on something so big...."

Kayn's gaze snaps to Sinmar, "She was just as good as all of you, do not judge my trained fighters because you only saw one part of her, if she went to fight a Shivarra, they are formidable demons to fight, anyone one of you could fall to them....."

He silents as the bouncy head of a Shivarra rolled between them, like a bowling ball, the eye sockets were reshaped, the face slightly split and shadow of Illidians horns cast forward, thinking it to be him, the Illidari in training and Kayn quickly bow to there knees to show respect. The sly and snide voice of Elrosil as she said, "You dont have to all bow at once...."

Sinmar looks up in shock, and sees it is Elrosil, her horns glorious, in the form of Illidans, he knelt in shock. The others looking up at the same time, to witness this, Kayn Sunfury proud. Elrosil walks up the steps and stops at Sinmar looking down at him as she snarls, "You will never tell me ever again what I can and cant do....I fucking killed a Shivarra what have you done with you life...." Sinmar started to speak only to have Elrosil spit directly into his mouth, "Thanks needed a garbage can to spit into." She walks past him to take the front of the line for training, "So what we working on today?"

@daily-writing-challenge​

#daily writing challenge #dwcday4 #dwc2021 #day 4

[japiform]

Chat Logs: Give Context

po57c0nt3n7 > how long have you known

japiform eh, i didn't really care to pay attention til you two started talkin though i'll admit, i'm new enough to this shit that i didn't really question it when i immediately assumed you was from here so. i dunno. the whole time?

po57c0nt3n7 > ok

japiform why?

po57c0nt3n7 > why do you think

japiform no clue was i supposed ta tell you immediately? i ain't really got down the ettiquettes of this exact situation guess my lusus forgot to teach me

po57c0nt3n7 > oh so now youre asking about etiquette > its ok im not mad at you

japiform .... You have never been told that before. oh?

po57c0nt3n7 > its my fault it happened like this anyway

japiform oh is this what we're doin?

po57c0nt3n7 > what > no im just telling the truth

japiform yeah cool whatever look i ain't one to stop a good pity party, but actually yeah i am they're annoying to watch and you're way funnier with that fake ass confidence it's a joke, dumbass at your expense cosmic variety you didn't realize. she didn't realize. darkleer didn't realize, and he pegged me fuckin instantly. a gods damned who's on first of reunions

po57c0nt3n7 > he pegged you lol

japiform hahaha he wishes

po57c0nt3n7 > also that wasnt me > well it was me but not really

japiform yeah yeah somethin about masks and faked confidence and maybe algorithms or somethin this is the real you, a mopey guilty asshole

po57c0nt3n7 > no i literally made an ai that i was using for data harvesting you goddamn moron > and you broke it

japiform hahahahahahaha that's fuckin funny no wonder it didn't recognize her i ain't never broke an ai before what part did it?

po57c0nt3n7 > its like asking a metal detector to find a red wall > the part where you threw it at the red wall dipshit

japiform hahahahahaha what data was you harvestin?

po57c0nt3n7 > in line with the metaphor > whether or not the metal thats responsible for the color red was present

japiform huh abstract

po57c0nt3n7 > yeah well i didnt exactly have the resources or the capacity for anything more complicated than that unfortunately > which is why im not mad at you

japiform huh what resources do you need that you don't have?

po57c0nt3n7 > power > security > not being a coward chickenshit

japiform a battery not havin enough power. kinda funny don't think i can help with that shit

po57c0nt3n7 > why would you want to help

japiform beats what i'm doin now

po57c0nt3n7 > you mean jack shit

japiform hahaha exactly

po57c0nt3n7 > i know > she keeps tabs on you

japiform how surprising damn, i didn't know that becomin a high ranking government official would mean i'd be *watched* now i'm scared of what'll happen if i *don't* help the empress's favorite pet

po57c0nt3n7 > you say dumb shit a lot > does it ever get boring

japiform hahaha yeah if you don't want help, i can just keep twiddlin my thumbs no fuckin skin off my big red nose

po57c0nt3n7 > i dont know

japiform eh. i'm old. i can wait. or maybe i'll die tomorrow either way

po57c0nt3n7 > you wont die tomorrow

japiform then i can wait :o)

po57c0nt3n7 > ok do that

japiform hahaha

-----

japiform 1hp huh

po57c0nt3n7 > thematically appropriate eheh

japiform ha you bout to kick it?

po57c0nt3n7 > if i dont outlive your wrinkled ass i would never let myself live it down

japiform hahahahaha and how do you intend to prolong your dying battery?

po57c0nt3n7 > as long as physically possible > orr at least until i can make it up to survivor

japiform that's sweet but you answered the wrong question, dumbfuck

po57c0nt3n7 > yeah

japiform lemme rephrase through what means do you intend to prolong your miserable life

po57c0nt3n7 > why do you care

japiform i already told you ain't you got access to your memory? update ya ram or some shit i got nothin better to do this shit makes for good tv

po57c0nt3n7 > i try to access my memories as little as possible > ive some stuff happening in the background

japiform so you've got it handled

po57c0nt3n7 > yes > have any of your helmsman ever told you about the peer-to-peer helm network

japiform hahaha none of my helms tell me shit without me knowin enough to ask first

po57c0nt3n7 > smart

japiform yeah so tell me about it

po57c0nt3n7 > in laymans terms its like a mini internet basically

japiform peer to peer is what fuckers use to pirate shit, right?

po57c0nt3n7 > its not supposed to exist obviously but i doubt you really give a shit

japiform nope it's funny

po57c0nt3n7 > its something the first helmsman cooked up when they realized the trolls who set up the helmsblocks put it all on the same server for lazy asshole reasons > they could connect to eachother over the broadband network

japiform i follow

po57c0nt3n7 > over the last eons its become a hub for noobs and veterans to communicate > keep everyone in the loop > for the last two weeks ive been uploading packets

japiform startin to get the feeling i've been bein handled but go on

po57c0nt3n7 > well duh youre a figurehead at best

japiform hahaha thanks

po57c0nt3n7 > np babe > anyway these packets are 1-1 data dumps of my memories > i figured if i do kick it > other helmsman can stll learn from me i guess > i just have to hold on a little longer while it all compiles

japiform that's a special sorta sad and so fuckin dull

po57c0nt3n7 > are you ever not going to neg me or should i sign the fucking visitor book

japiform hahaha

po57c0nt3n7 > im just going to draw a huge bulge on every page

japiform i'll sign it for you, i know you're all tied up :o)

po57c0nt3n7 > you are soooo funny

japiform ;o)

-----

po57c0nt3n7 > so a funny thing just happened

japiform oh?

po57c0nt3n7 > so whilst we were talking earlier you were a certain distance away > and now you are significantly closer > i wonder what thats about

japiform huh, weird i ain't got any idea where you're at motherfucker

po57c0nt3n7 > uh huh

japiform i just got some faithful worth roundin up in another sector fish bitch don't wholly order me around, and i ain't so solely a figurehead. i'm still runnin a mother fuckin CHURCH but if you wanted ta tell me your coords, i could come give you that kiss on my way ;o)

po57c0nt3n7 > not on your goddamn life > last thing i need right now is for you to take a "miraculous" tumble and crash through one of my walls kool-aid man style > do your clown shit idgaf

japiform by your mother fuckin leave

#ooc eyes only

[rain-line]

Rating bandori outsoles!

Starting with THIS piece of shit:

saaya marching band boot [1.5/10]

absolutely disgusting.smooth as fuck like that stupid fucking “just finished sanding my tires so my car can run smoother” post🙄😒🤢 absolutely gross. it’s a boot, and yet, there are no grooves, whatsoever. 😷🤢

disgusting

[aya shoes!] [7.8/10]

amazing!😵 absolutely stunning! so many grooves and CUTE SHAPES TO BOOT (ba dum tss🥁)

looks like i could stick and rub my finger around insides the grooves nicely (i’m eyeing that top-most  horozontal groove and those pasupare logo grooves!🤤)

this is probably the cutest bandori sole i’ve ever seen!!🥺🤧💕

tae [3.5/10]

ok this one pains me to rate so low, bc tae is bae. unfortunately however.. these soles are shit.

the grooves are so shallow- barely any depth. most likely very soft & fuzzy to the touch, i dislike that. i don’t like shoe fuzz 😞tae... u can do better than this, sis 😔

himari hoe boot [2.5/10]

not a fan of leopard print, tbh, and i feel like it smells toxicly strong (like the leathery interior of a new car 😷 ugh)

i appreciate the depth of the heel, and the fact that there are grooves & patterns on the underside at all, but also... i just dont vibe with it😬

sports festival hagumi [3.7/10]

honestly- i’m a lil disappointed with this one😞ur a sports queen, babey, how could u let it come to this 😭ur an ATHLETE and these are shoes u were meant to wear during a SPORTING EVENT! babey nooooo 😭 😭 😭 😭it’s just such a let down... so shallow... no depth u could barely get sand stuck in those grooves... smh😞hagu babey. i expected more from u.😞

newspaper aya [6/10]

the soles r not visible, however, these are her pasupare practice gym shoes,  THEREFORE, i KNOW there must be decent grooves on the underside.😌

sayo [6/10]

technically, her shoes are not visible in this photo, however, u must have great traction to be able to hold this pose and twerk like that at the same time- so i find this to be quite acceptable 😌

initial ran sole [3/10]

while i appreciate the depth of the grooves, they wouldn’t make much of an impressive silhouette from a side view.

also the design of the sole creates a “clenched” image in my mind- like that of an asshole. i don’t like it. 🤢

kanon shoe teeth [3/10]

bitch im cryin’, too 😭WHY does the pattern look like a mouth full of teeth 😭😭noooooooooo I HATE ITTT 😭😭😭 it’s a whole ass giant dentureeee NOOOOOOOOOOOOO 😭 😭 😭 😭

6th afterglow fear shoes [6/10]

school slippers

while there certainly isn’t much depth, i feel like the raised patterns would feel nice to rub my finger along. i like the colour 😌plus, it just looks so squishy and chewy🤤it makes me happy

HINAAAAAAAA!!!! 😵 😵 😵 [9.7/10]!!!!

what an ABSOLUTE. UNIT. OF A SOLE!!!!

i had always been in AWE of this card. utterly mesmerized ever since i first saw it way back when it came out and never really understood why at the time.

but i understand now. i understand all.

everything about these soles are AMAZING.

THE FUCKING DEPTH!!

the simpkle, yet totally SOLID pattern

THE ILLUMINATION OF THE BLUE LIGHT FROM THE WATER, ADDING ATMOSPHERE 😵😵😵

we get a spectacular side view of the boot which shows a nice jagged silhouette

it’s so stunning, i feel brought to tears 😭😭😭 🥺🥺

oh, hina, i just wanna say- thank you so much for providing the best outsole in all of bandori shoes  history🙏🏻 😭 😵 🥺 i don’t even have to finish the list to know that this is supreme- this is the greatest good of all...

would absolutely love to run my finger along the ridges, and smell them new- fresh out of the box🥰☺️

chisato’s survivor boots [8/10]

while the soles are not visible, this shoe would most denifitely be similar to hina’s- just a tan colour swatch. her pose shoes off the silhouette pretty well. it would- without a doubt- hurt like hell if she stepped on my finger wearing those.

i love it 🥰

saaya, again? [4.9/10]

oh? an attempt to redeem urself, saaya? 🤔

there are many things i like in this card, such as that voluptuously filled chocolate coronet, and ur sick jeans😎unfortunately, i am here to rate ur shoes.

😔these aren’t the worst, but they aren’t too special, either. the grooves seem nice and deep in a manner that is acceptable for the type of shoe. i like the waffle pattern- i’d like to pat and rub it🥳

i guess it’s kind of romantic in a ‘girl next door’ way, but i’m more of a boots girl. o well 🙈💖

moca hoe sandals [1.5/10]

sis, i...

???

flat AF???? this is an ironing board?????

what sound do these even MAKE when walking? some kind of harsh, scuffling sound, no doubt  🤢

these are awful, plus, u would bang/scrape ur toes so bad when walking with these on concrete steps! OUCH 😖

kaoru [4/10]

everything about this card- this outfit- was 💯, girl, u were doin so WELL... but u neglected the sole...  😔

i understand that a ‘clean’ look ties together the princely image,but, for the future, i think adding at least some kind of pattern or at least just ONE groove would greatly improve the overall look 😔please...

i am one disappointed koneko-chan

=============================================================

RANKINGS: COMPLETE!! IN SUMMARY:

WORST SOLE[S]🗑️📉 ARE AWARDED TO SAAYA BOOTS AND MOCA SANDALS!! 😷🤢

BEST SOLE😍🥾💕IS AWARDED TO SURVIVOR HINA BOOTS!!!! 🥳👏🐯🍾💝💖

wow! just amazing, ladies!!🤗well done!!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

and now, for a breakdown of the ranking criteria!:

what makes an undersole so great? 🤔well 🙈💕

PATTERN- having an attractive design

DEPTH- typically, the deeper the groove,t he better. it should make ur finger feel like it’s exploring a nice, cozy, miniature cavern!

PROFILE- a good side-view of a sole is very jagged, or at least makes it very obviously known that there are many a great grooves underneath this boot! an alluring silhouette beckons u to come see more😳*kisses hand*😚🥰beautiful

TRACTION- practicality is always a plus 😌

PAIN- it should hurt like hell if my finger were stepped on (note- pain factor is for FINGER, ONLY😡nothing dirty here😤)

============================================================

DISCLAIMER!!!

I DO NOT CURRENTLY, AND NEVER HAVE, LIKED FEET. 😷 😷 I LIKE OUTSOLES- THE UNDERSIDES OF SHOES, BUT MORE SPECIFICALLY, OF BOOTS

FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK 😭 😭 😭 😭

#BANDORI #saaya yamabuki #aya maruyama #tae hanazono #HINA HIKAWA #MOCA AOBA #himari uehara #sayo hikawa #RAN MITAKE #chisato shirasagi #kanon matsubara #kaoru seta #MARUYAMA AYA #hagumi kitazawa #SHOES #BOOTS #T T #MY

[maggyme13]

Why Licking (4/?)

Why Licking-Masterlist

Masterlist

Part 3

No orc that day had dared to even look at you for too long. Their comrade being eaten alive by a (now black and) white Warg must have been threat enough.

Not that you complained.

Azog had not once left your side (or better back) and neither did his Warg; as weird as it sounded, you felt save: his chest spends warmth and his embrace comfort.

Every once in a while, he would lean down to kiss and nibble at his mark, sending strange tickled through your throat.

It was a few hours into the day when a huge (and ugly) orc strode through the crowd. Three smaller, but similar built orcs tailing behind him, two of them seemingly dragging something between them. With every step they came closer the orcs parted and you were able to see more of him.

Are those metal-plates between his rips?!

“Bolg! You are back early. What do you have brought with you from your travels?”, your captor greeted the newcomer.

“I brought something from the hunt. We came across a caravan of Dwarves. We brought you a present. This Dwarf is the sole survivor. The trades are already in the storage room and I see you have found yourself a new toy.”, the newcomer chuckled, pointing his claw like fingers at the much smaller figure that was struggling in his orcs hands.

“Ye bastards! I will cut off every single head of yers. Ye bastard. Yer beardless scum!  In Mahal´s name you will die!”, the little man roared, his head read like a cherry of anger.

Is that a dwarf? I never thought I would ever see ne. What will they do with him I wonder?

Vibrations and roaring laughter pulled you out of your thoughts, the pale orc was laughing at the poor dwarf.

“You are in my territory now. Dwarf. At my mercy and I don’t intent to show any. Get the muzzle and collar, it seems I need to train my newest pet.”, the pale orc declared with a sinister smile.

Laughter and screeches erupted from the surrounding inhabitants of the cave, and you suddenly felt fear creep up your spine when a new orc came up to where you were seated, metal chains in his claws.

Are they for me? Please no chains? Didn´t I behave ?

“Put these on the Dwarf.” , he motioned from the orc to the dwarf and back.

Happily grinning, the orc stepped towards his captive, whose struggles increased.

Not for me then. But I am sorry for the you Master dwarf.

The dwarf put on a good fight and it took three orcs to put him into the restrains; he still continued his fights and shouting, though you couldn’t understand anything he said due to the mussel.

Azog kept laughing, only stopping to bite down on your neck. Startled, your focus was still on the little man, a small yelp left your throat and your muscles jerked together. Your high noise must have caught the dwarf´s attention, because his struggles ceased at once, his eyes focusing on you, huge with surprise. He hadn’t realized you were even sitting there and so he wondered what your purpose was with the orc.

Seconds past, where both captives of the orc-leader stared at each other; confusion and wonder mirroring in their eyes.

“(y/n),”, Azog growled into your ear, biting into your earlobe and pinching your thigh. He did not sound amused and you quickly lowered your head in surrender.

“My apologies, Azog.”, you mumbled, hoping to appease him.

“You are mine. No one else´s. He is nothing than a pet- a slave. There to amuse me and to serve us. He is nothing more than dirt beneath our feet.”, the leader exclaimed, grinning at the dwarf, “Sit with us, Bolg, and enjoy the food and your present.”

Once again you didn’t know what he was saying, but you guessed it was an invitation for the other male to join the two of you on the furs, for he sat down next to you and the pale one, his eyes locked on you.

“Where did you get your toy? She smells delicious. I wouldn’t mind tasting her.”, he asked his leader with a hungry glint in his eyes, though it disappeared at once when he caught the angry look his leader cast at him.

“She is no one but mine. Do not forget that son. I did not take her to play with her. She is no slave and does not answer to anyone but me.”, Azog growled, his Warg joining in, and making you wonder what they had been talking about exactly.

“You marked her.”, Bolg stated with a frown, one of his fingers moving your hair out of the way to get a better look at your bite.

“Be careful. One Orc already died today for touching her without permission.”, Azog warned his son, he would not kill him- he was too valuable as a captain of his orcs- but he would break a few bones, that was for sure.

“The dwarves, where did they came from?”, he returned their conversation to daily business.

“They were traveling north, around the mountains to that settlement in the Iron Hills. They bore the sign of Durin. Oakenshield wasn’t with them. Neither any of his blood.”

That statement was only answered by a nod.

“They had weapons and metals with them.”, the younger one continued.

“Smiths? He will be of use after all.”

  Food had been brought a while later, and again did Azog feed you using the tip of his prosthetic. You thanked him, not wanting to anger him (and because you really had become hungry), earning yourself a nibble and satisfied rumble from that orc.

The dwarf, who was seated at the edge of the little pedestal with his back turned towards you, was given neither food nor water.

And it must have been late in the day when your captor finally decided to return to his chambers with you. You were glad, for you had become very tired and hoped to be allowed to sleep soon. No Orc dared to look at you, when their leader guided you back to his quarters- the bound dwarf being dragged behind by the chains connected to his collar.

His Warg had wandered off at some time, taking its snack with it.

Is he going to take him inside? I don’t want him to be able to watch. This is humiliating enough already.

Your fear was proven, when Azog secured the chains against a wall INSIDE his quarters. Much to your dismay. Sparing one last glance at the bound male, you walked to the furs and yawned. While Azog hat placed his prosthetic at it usual spot (far away from the dwarf) and was now following you.

“(y/n),”, the male orc whispered into your ear, his hand resting on your side and his fingers already tugging at the shirt you were still wearing, “I wanted you on your knees the whole day, and now I can have you. Without showing what is mine to take.”

His hand glided down, only to go back up lifting the shirt and leaving you bare in front of him, once he had pulled it over your head.

Fires had heated the room all day and yet you began to shiver: You were  not comfortable with the Orc seeing you naked and now there was the dwarf as well. Trying to find comfort, you circled your upper body with your arms, hoping to shield as much as possible from the dwarf´s eyes.

“Do not hide from me. Or are you hiding from our new pet?”, the male growled, his hand prying at your arms, causing you to remove them.

“Please. Not with him-“, you mumbled, your eyes moving from the dwarf to your captor and back, “Please.”

“So, you are hiding from out pet. There is no need. Those Dwarves  claim to have honour. I always wanted to know how far that goes. Come.”, Azog chuckled, pulling you along to where the chained dwarf was sitting. His head jerked up when he noticed the two of you approaching, his body was tensing in anticipation of a beating or another sick fun that must have been coming for him. Anger was burning in his eyes, though he quickly looked away when he saw the naked body of yours next to the pale giant.

“Dwarf.”, the Orc addressed the other male, who ignored it, “Dwarf! See, (y/n), honour.”

With a quick move, he placed you in front of his strong chest, putting you on full display- with no way to hide.

“Don´t you like what I allow you to see? You are hurting me, for I can´t leave my eyes of her. Shall I allow you to feel her? Her skin is really soft and tastes better than honey. (y/n), why don’t you sit down?”, his hand, that rested on your shoulder, pressed down, making you follow his orders you couldn’t understand. Your chest was now on the same height as the eyes of the bound dwarf; whom closed them at once.

“I could take you now, right here and he wouldn’t look. And even though It would be fun to make him uncomfortable in doing so. I prefer to have you all for myself.”, throwing you over his shoulder, the giant orc carried you to the pile of furs that served as a bed.

Anticipating being thrown, you were surprised when he (almost gently) laid you down and turned you onto your stomach.

“I will taste you.”, he grumbled. His eyes were locked onto your ass, so hungry you could feel it and the intensity sending shivers up your spine.

You felt him lean forward. Both his arm and stump resting on either side of your head. His lips were already latched onto your skin, his sharp canines tickling you wherever he moved lower on your back. His arms following his mouth´s every movement. Reaching your ass, he pulled your hips into a kneeling position.

What is he doing? Wha-?

His hand moved from your hips, to test on your lower stomach; hit teeth biting into your ass.

“I bet you taste delicious.”, he rumbled and before you could think about what he might have said, something wet and raspy brushed between your legs.

“WHa-?”, you shrieked, making the male chuckle between your legs.

Is that his tongue? Is he licking me down there?

“Delicious!”

His tongue continued its assault, even entering you after a while, licking your insides and nibbling your folds. Once your first surprise and shock had subdued, you were able to relax and enjoy the things he did to you.

Yes, you were still uncomfortable with the whole situation, you didn’t want the orc to do what he did. But you had no choice, so why fight against it and anger the male, if you could just do everything you needed to do to survive.

Warmth pooled inside your lower belly, tingles spread from there through your veins and your breathing hitched alongside your pulse. It was the same feelings at the night prior and you smiled in anticipation for you knew the feeling would only grow until fluid happiness would enter your veins. Muscles you didn´t know existed clamped around your captors tongue.

By the Valar, this feels so good!

Wanting to deepen the feeling, your body pressed back towards the male, a moan leaving your throat and your legs twitched with your release.

Satisfied with your reaction, he sat up, his hand squeezing your backside before guiding his member through your wet folds, coating himself with your juices. Still sensitive from his attention earlier, you hissed in painful pleasure, only to groan when you felt him fill you to the brim with his hard member.

“So tight. You fit me so well. Take all of me.”, the orc growled, pounding in and out of you, his whole hand tangling in your hair and he pulled you up by it and against his chest.

His member now reaching places it hadn’t reached before.

Sounds of flesh hitting flesh mixed with moans and growls of pleasure filled the room. Stars danced in front of your eyes and your body shook with your second release. You had just found your high, when the male slammed one last time into you. Releasing his hot semen inside your womb.

Exhausted, the male slumped down, laying on his side, though not leaving your body.

“Rest now. Tomorrow is a new day.”, he rumbled, but you had already fallen asleep.

Part 5

#azog #azog x reader #orc #Hobbit fanfic #orc x reader

[elsenova]

fallout 4 house tour *throwing confetti in the air* for my sosu adam : ]

btw im using like a LOT of decor mods (ocdecorator is extremely chefs kiss if youre as picky as i am) and a cleaned version of the home plate !

under cut bc its so long < 3

some notes going in first and foremost i did want to retain the feel of this being in the fallout universe while not having everything look dirty and messy 100% of the time . i also wanted it to be nicer than you’d generally see since adam is the sole survivor and probably lives a little bit more comfortably than some other diamond city residents , but still lived-in and a little disorganized bc that’s just what he’s like . another thing about adam is that he is very much the “everyone can crash at my place” friend so there’s a lot of spaces dedicated to other people or other people’s belongings scattered around . there’s also a danse pinup poster hidden somewhere in this house bc i thought it’d be funny and if you can figure out where it is i will give you five dollars (i will not actually do this)

this little loft area that leads to the roof was too small to be a real bedroom , so it’s an area dedicated to adam’s friend wren , an amnesiac ex-courser with a tendency to show up places unannounced . adam is used to everyone doing this to him , so it’s nbd . i did also add a wall here so the whole thing feels less like its about to fall apart

adam and danse’s room (shhh he’s sleeping). this is pre-blind betrayal so they are both in the brotherhood at the moment BUT my personal hc is that danse would join the minutemen after the game’s main plot so once i’m there ingame that flag will be replaced . fuck the brotherhood all my homies hate the brotherhood

their living room ... bookshelves were not all done by hand bc that’d be a headache , they’re filled via the do it yourshelf mod . the boxes in the back corner are storage for nick and jess(the other sosu , who is a synth and my boyfriend’s character) . bi flag is self explanatory adam is bisexual . also a closer shot of that coffee table bc i had to redo it THREE TIMES

cute little dinig room table / desk area . you’ll notice adam has a lot of plants . this was intentional . i have very little to say about this except that adam does in fact smoke in the house sometimes < 3

a medical area ... adam was a combat medic (bc i was not about to make him a Boot Boy) so this space at least is clean and neat . a fun fact about this is that i used one of those power extension wires to make it look like it’s connected to the terminal , which i had to carefully clip into it . the chair was stolen from the institute . he likes it .

yes the mugs are laid over the calendar here . i dont feel like fixing it right now LMAO . dining area bar type thing ... and yes every cap on the checkerboard is placed by hand . i dont fuck around . there’s a dog bowl for dogmeat and as adam and danse are in the brotherhood i imagine they’re probably most comfortable with cafeteria-style dishes , so they have those . adam only busts out the fancy dinner plates for family dinners .

just a little cooking area / pantry ... there are 5 boxes of snack cakes in frame bc a majority of adam’s friends and family are synths . i also really like those string lights if you couldn't tell .

power armor fixing / general modding area .i would have put danse’s armor in the stand but he fucking murdered me for stealing it . this is a no power armor on house you could at least put it in its designated area , DANSE .

some weight sets bc this is a house full of insane jocks and a little “guest room” type area .

i went through like 3 renditions of this house including one where i started a new game (adam ... 2 !). i spent so much time on it and while there are still some things i could improve i consider the bulk of it to be finished . i have a few other player / npc homes i wanna do but this is my only complete one atm ! thanks for reading my long ass post < 3

#fallout 4 #fallout #captain's log

[codedcore]

Here’s some sketches from creating my last post. Lots of fun drawing Kellar’s hair.

#fallout 4 #kellar curtis #frost #sole survivor #more than one sole survivor kiss my ass #robot arm! #my art #fanart #i actually cant tell if those two would get along or not #sketches