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mxvladdy · 3 years

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More than just a flirt

John Hancock X OC

Hi hi! My smut hand be rusty but nothing like completely self indulgent OC smut to bring me back :)

So I’m still new to tagging and the like but my Fallout 4 OC is GN but I do insinuate female genitals. Soooo ye *finger guns*

If ya read it I hope a like it!

John was a flirt; that’s all he ever could be. He was charming. He was witty. He was an adventure covered in an oversized trench coat. What bed partners he had came for one thing. The experience. The ability to boast loudly about fuckin’ a ghoul. Like it was a damn badge of honor. His whole life had been a stream of one night stands, and cold beds. That's all he ever could be. That’s all he ever would be.

So then why did he wake up so warm?

Cracking an eye open John reached behind him searching blindly for what was heating his back. His burned fingers were a complete contrast to the soft flesh that greeted him. Slowly, he traces down it, following the flow of the dark muscular till he is holding on to an arm wrapped around his middle.

“Morin’.” His bed partner huffs in his ear. Chestnut curls tickle his cheek as they hug him closer. Whiskey and melon sweet breath bringing back memories of their lips against his. Last night clicks in place. Ophelia. John rose quickly as if burned. This was wrong, they are a friend. A good friend, a trustworthy hardworking leader. They deserved better than-than…

“John?” Ophelia rose uncaring of how the blankets slipped from their arms. Old fabric pooling around their bare waist. They rub at their eyes wearily. “You ok?”

He froze at the edge of the mattress. Long fingers reaching for his pants on a very recognizable floor. He was in Ophelia’s room; or rather this was their hotel room. Damn. He couldn't remember a thing from last night. What did he take? Fuck. He could kick himself. Of all the one-nighters, he wanted to at least remember this one. “Ye doll, sorry...just didn't wanna wake ya.” He smiles, covering his momentary panic.

Ophelia frowned, sleepy hazel eyes narrowing into a familiar piercing glaze. They size him up. Reading him better than anyone ever had before. John couldn’t help but squirm. They looked at him just like when they had first met. Strong jaw tense and their chin high, silently calling out his bullshit.

“I'm fine, honest. Didn't expect to see you is all.” Hancock tried again tugging on his pants.

“In my own room?” His friend snorts, rising to go open the curtains. “Where else would I be?”

John is silent. “I don’t know. Not here-with me.” He keeps his back turned. It was stupid to linger. The warm tingling of their soft body seeps down into the floorboards leaving him aching and cold. Staring at his irradiated hands he could almost cry. Almost- his tear ducts had been scarred shut years ago.

“John?” Ophelia comes within arms reach. He could sense their hand hovering close to his own boney shoulder. They drop it moments later. “You sure you’re ok? You coming down from a bad trip or somethin’?” John chuckles humorlessly. Was he that predictable? Stepping away from them he finishes dressing.

“Ye sunshine. Don’t worry about it. Ain’t my first time and sure as hell won’t be my last.” He tosses out over his shoulder. “I’ll give ya a minute ta get ready and meet you out front.”

If Ophelia had anything to say after that they kept between their pretty little lips.

“I think we should head for shelter.” Ophelia says, looking up from the fallen mutant. Their arms filled with loot. John follows their gaze. His black eyes reflect the eerie shade of green growing in the sky. Rad storm. Looked like a big one too. He lights a cigarette and sticks it between his grimy teeth before helping collect a few more useful items.

“Closest place is probably that supermarket couple o’ klicks back.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder. If they hoof it they could probably get there and pick off any ferals before the worst of the storm hit. Ophelia sighs, John knew how much they hated backtracking. The decision was made for them when their pip-boy starts clicking in warning.

“Well-” They frown, throwing a glance back at the ghoul. “You alright with taking two steps forward and ten steps back?” John laughs, tipping his tricorn up to flash them a quick wink.

“Shit doll- You just summed up my life in a sentence.” Offering a hand he helps the sharpshooter over some loose rubble. “You keep an eye out K? I know you’re low on ammo so I’ll take point.” Ophelia nods. Their sniper rifle slung uselessly across their back. Readying his shotgun John follows behind.

The storm hit just when he had expected. Dropping rain and hunks of debris on the two as they struggle to close the supermarket doors against the high winds. Thanks to their combined dumb luck the place was empty. The sentry bots long since destroyed and even a few tins of food were still scattered about the aisle. Ophelia left him to collect some and scout out any hidden lock boxes, leaving him to set up the sleeping bags and start a small fire. Cracking open a room-temperature beer he stares idly into the flicking flames. It grew steadily as he fed it bits of cardboard and kindling. The yellow glow touches his skin and starts to dry his drenched clothes. John contemplates his predicament while he waits for Ophelia to return. The memories of last night slowly start to come back to him in the silence. The tastes, and smells of washed sheets and sweating skin permeate his senses. Ophelia’s sweet mewls and gasps echo around in between his ears. Who gave them the right to make his name sound so sweet?

Shit-He knew he shouldn’t dwell on it. First rule of one-nighters is to live in the moment then walk away clean. But damn if he wasn’t the worst at following rules.

He relives it all the best he can, parts still blurring and blocked, like a scratch in a holotape. But he’ll take it. He’ll take the phantom feel of strong, sure fingers mapping his body. The ghost of a tongue slipping against his. Washing away the taste of mentats and cheap drinks. He can’t remember the last time he had felt so warm and wanted. Made the sudden distance he put between them hurt even more. Fuck him for getting greedy.

John flicks the butt of his cigarette into the roaring flames and searches for another. He grumbles in irritation as each pocket bears no fruit. “Here. I got some.” A familiar red and white box appears in his peripheral. Ophelia’s chipped yellow nail polish clashing with the old carton.

“Thanks, sunshine.” He rasps, taking the box. He can’t bear looking up for the crumbled container. The thought of making eye contact with them while his blood and brains were living in his trousers seemed unholy. Pulling out the least damaged cigarette of the lot he lights it with a practiced flick of his wrist. “Found anything good?”

They shrug, putting a few cans of beans and corn in the growing amount of embers around the fire pit to heat. “Some ammo and super glue. Also-” They grin, forcing him to look up. “Got you a present.” They pull a bottle out from behind their back to brandish it at him triumphantly. He stares. Not at the bottle, but at the way that little pull of muscle brightens up their whole face. That signature gapped tooth smile warming him better than the beer and firelight combined. He reaches numbly for the bottle. A Nuka-Cola Quantum, the chill of the bottle a welcomed surprise.

He and the rest of the crew had learned over the years not to reject a gift, no matter how valuable. MacCready nearly had a heart attack when he was gifted with a shiny new sniper rifle. That pretty little custom piece came with all the bells and whistles. Not to mention a few boxes of specialized ammo. John had zoned out when the other man started rambling rapid-fire over specs clutching the gun to him like a newborn. Each of the core companions got some good shit from time to time. He had some absolutely sinful blades and an old bottle of pre war bourbon tucked away in his office. Valentine had gotten some fantastic upgrades to his hardware and repairs to his offices. Hell- Curie got a whole bloody body.

Can’t beat these job perks.

“What’s the occasion?” He pops the cap off with the blunt end of his pocket knife, taking a pull from the bottle. The rush of sugar and god knows what else damping his headache.

Ophelia shrugs from across the pit. Pulling off their worn boots to warm their feet by the fire. “I remember you said they perk you up after a particularly bad crash.” They pause, face closing down for a moment, before looking up in horror. “I would have thought- I mean. I- you-I hope I didn’t do anything last night that upset you. I know you were a bit buzzed and I was way past tipsy. But, if I stepped out of line you would tell me right ?” John looks at them beyond confused.

"What?" He asks dumbly.

" Is," Ophelia waves vaguely at the distance between them. Normally when they camped together they were thick as thieves. Joking and nudging at each other's shoulders. Others used to joke about them getting a room. Now it felt like a great chasm had opened between them. "all of this about last night."

"Oh. Nah. Don't gotta worry none doll." John shrugs. Best to rip the bandage off now then later. "It's in the past, best leave it there. " He lies. It burns his throat worse than jet, but he has to. If only to protect his crumbling pride. One day he'll believe his own words. Hopefully.

"Well I am worried. How 'bout we start over. What’s wrong?" Ophelia jabs.

John feels heat rise under his thick skin. Just pokin’ a fresh cut tonight huh..."Kinda hard to start over after having someone's dick down your throat." He tosses it out carelessly. A shit attempt to derail the coming train wreck. Ophelia doesn't even flinch.

"Well, it's a damn good thing we both know how flexible I am then.” They rebuttal smoothly. “So, I'll ask again. What’s. Wrong?" The ghoul shrinks under their heated look. He was never keen on being hit with these eyes. Meant another kinda storm was brewing.

John throws his hands up in frustration. Had they never heard the phrase 'read the room'. "What, ya never had a one nighter before?" He regrets it the second the words leave his lips. He'd never seen someone flinch from words before. "Look, doll, I ain't one for making things awkward. I know the rules so let's just forget it and move on."

Ophelia deflates. Their signature look that could pin a super mutant in fight extinguished just like that. John watches them mouth over his words slowly. Clearly hating the taste of them as much as he did. "Is- was that what you wanted out of it?" Ophelia sighs. They dig a hand through sweat tangled locks. The tight coils of their hair protesting the drag of their fingers. His own fingers itch watching them, remembering the feel of their hair wrapped around his hand as he pulled them in for a kiss.

"What did you want out of it?" He asks, feeling dumber than a radroach.

Ophelia mimics him, throwing their hands up with a short laugh. "John, I thought it was clear. I don't go sleeping around with my friends and colleagues for shits and giggles. Who do I always ask to join me on travels?"

“Dogmeat?” John jokes, the knot in his stomach loosening with hope. It's unimaginable really- and yet. Were they serious? The past couple of times out they had always come to him. Even when they would be at a strategic disadvantage for whatever crazy scheme they had brewing. Only time he wasn’t Ophelia’s top pick was when some Minutemen tasks needed to be done. Even then He could always expect them at his front door the moment their feet landed on safe ground. A bottle of liquor in hand and an unbelievable story to tell.

“Not funny.” They chastised him scooting until they were seated next to him, knees brushing. "My idea for this morning was to maybe get breakfast and a semi decent cup of coffee. But I guess this is fine." They scrunch their nose in distaste at the cans warming in the fire pit.

“Shit doll,” John reaches out, wrapping a wiry arm around their waist. “Can I make it up to you? For being such an ass?” They hum in jest covering his hand with their own. The kiss that follows was unlike anything that he expected. It was slow and sweet. So different from the fast pecks he would get with others he slept with. He deepens it greedily, not ready to part just yet.

“You’re lucky I find you attractive.” Ophelia whispers into his mouth tossing his tricorn to the side and straddling his narrow hips. “We are going to have a talk about all this. Just-later-much, much later. I need a repeat performance of last night now that we are both sober.”

John groans letting them push him down. “Damn-you got it. You got whatever you want if you mean it.” Ophelia scoffs, ridding themselves of their baggy jacket. John can’t help but marvel at how beautiful they were backlit by the roaring flames. The orange glow of the light wrapping around their dark skin much like he craved to do. The flicking of it lapping at their smooth skin. Flashes of last night coming back to him of his tongue traveling down the same areas. He would have to remap them.

“As if I could ever lie to your smart ass.” They scoff grinding down on the growing bulge hidden in his rough pants. “But you have been lying to me and yourself it seems.”

He grunts in acknowledgment eyeing the way their ass moves. “You are absolutely right.Fuck- how can I make it up to you?”

Ophelia smirks cupping his cheeks. Their eyes meet. Rich hazel meeting cold black. The moment digs dip under his tough hide. The raw emotions in their stare makes his throat dry. “Put that mouth to good use- hmm? I know it’s good for more than some self-depreciation.”

Spurred by Ophelia’s words he flips their positions, placing the sniper down on his bedroll. John sinks lower, kissing and nipping at their hip bone. Mapping out all the sensitive parts of their body. His tongue tracing the silver little streaks on their belly. Ophelia’s stomach twitches at the feel of his warm breath on their stretch marks, cursing quietly as he finds their slick core. Their nails score his scalp, dragging a hiss of pleasure from his lips. He licks with gusto, taking full advantage of their isolated positions to make them scream.

“John-” They mew clawing at his shoulders to pull him back up to their kiss swollen lips. He goes leaving a trail of kisses in his wake before giving them a surprisingly chaste kiss on their lips.

“You sure ‘bout this doll?” He didn’t know what would happen after this, but it felt so different compared to his other recurring bed partners. He did want to see them again. He wanted this relationship to bleed into every aspect of his life. If he could relive that morning wrapped in their arms till his brain was splattered out on some dusty alleyway then he would. Without question.

Ophelia nods, reading in between the lines of his multilayered question. If there was one power figure in this wasteland they trusted, it was him. Wrapping a strong leg around his strong waist they shimmy off their tactical pants. Their eyes lock onto his pants as if the ratty briefs offended them. John chuckles and casually loosens the draw strings keeping his pants up. Ophelia takes it from there scooting the rough material down his legs. They pur, grasping his erection and stroking it. Their dexterous fingers play with his head drawing out a healthy bit of pre.

John sighs and rests his forehead on Ophelia’s brow breathing in their naturally clean scent. It reminded him of the rare times he could get freshly washed laundry mixed with the springtime. Shen the wild plants strong enough to brave this cruel world sprouted. He kisses them, nipping at their chin and collarbone while they drive him wild. “Doll, please.” He gasps, back arching into their touch. “You’re killin’ me ya know.” Ophelia chuckles returning a deep kiss.

“Good, consider it penance for thinking I couldn’t love you.”

John heaves, lost for breath as their words hit him. He pulls back floundering. “You mean that?” He sees the rapid fire thoughts racing through their wide eyes. Shock that they let slip that dirty little secret, fear of what he would do, then a stark resolution.

“Of course.” Ophelia nods through their embarrassment. Their sharp cheeks beginning to warm under his gaze. They say it like it’s an obvious statement. Like he should have just known. In a way he did. He just couldn’t believe it.

John takes the initiative now. Dragging Ophelia down to his scarred lips preening when he feels them sigh into it. Their tongue teasing his telling him point blank what they wanted. Grabbing onto their plush hips John grinds down on them, rubbing his stiff erection through the seam of their thighs and wet entrance. The moans that elicited from them made his radioactive blood boil with need. He had to have them again, last night was a dud. He would savoir this time.

Positioning themselves over John’s cock Ophelia shoots him a sultry wink before sinking down onto him slowly. “Oh fuck me.” He groans, dropping his head to his pillow. Their body was feverish around his, soft, pliant and so willing.

“That was my intention.” They grab onto his shoulders for support. Eyelids fluttering heavily. “If I’m not getting that across now, perhaps I should quit while I’m behind?” They joke as they ride him. Their hips move in slow tight circles. It’s enough to drive him wild.

John digs his fingers into the supple flesh of Ophelia’s hips. With any luck he’ll leave bruises. Excellent. Ophelia couldn’t stop John as he flipped their position. He pinned them roughly down on his sleeping bag. “Don’t worry Doll. You got your point across very well. Don’t need to go putting yourself out like that.”

“You’re one to ta-” John thrusts into them cutting off their snark. Taking devilish delight in flustering them. Setting a fast pace he drives in deep revealing in their cries of pleasure. God damn- this was almost enough to make him wanna go sober. How did he ever think one night would be enough?

“Fuck! I don’t deserve you.” His hisses cutting through the wet slaps of skin on skin. Ophelia does nothing but groan. Neither of them last long. Much to John’s chagrin. He finishes with a choked shout, hips and stomach twitching as he spills himself on their thigh. Ophelia doesn’t fare much better. They bite hard at the rough skin of his neck, nails scoring his back with a perfect mixture of pleasure and pain while they came undone beneath him.

“Do you mean it?” He asks, cupping the back of Ophelia’s skull. They wrap an arm around his neck nuzzling close, draping their body across his.

“Ye- but if you talk down about yourself again I’ll have to feed you to a deathclaw.” John chuckles feeling his eyelids getting heavy. He wouldn’t put it past them.

#Fallout 4 #john hancock #john hancock x sole survivor #it's smut #it's angsty #it's oc time #crusty boi is best boi

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electricshoebox · 3 years

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top three meme

Post your top three favorite of your own fics (even unpublished!). And then tag others to do the same! I was tagged by @mercurymiscellany, thanks so much! I liked the backward countdown so I think I’ll do that too.

3. No Patron Saint of Silent Restraint (Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dorian/Bull, rated T)

This is a little scene set right after Bull gets attacked by assassins on the ramparts, in light of his personal quest. I wanted to explore a scenario where he and Dorian were already hooking up when this happens, to play with how Dorian might react. I’ve always felt like this fic was the strongest I ever was with my Dorian voice, I was kinda proud of how the dialogue came together. And I liked getting the opportunity to bring up the story of him meeting Krem in front of him, too.

2. To Have and to Hold (Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dorian/Bull, rated M)

This was for the Adoribull Minibang 2016, set during Trespasser. It’s meant to be kind of a big meditation on Dorian’s ideas of and experiences with marriage, past and present, and how he comes to understand what love and commitment really look like to him as he’s poised to make a huge decision for the future. It alternated between a past memory and a present interaction, back and forth, and I was really happy with how that turned out. I think the writing came out pretty strong overall, and I liked having the space to play with some of his other friendships and relationships, like with Sera and Cassandra.

1. A Line in the Sand (Fallout 4, Deacon/MacCready, rated E)

My start-from-scratch, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, 200k slow burn ship manifesto. My let-me-convince-you-to-ship-it-starting-from-square-one fic. I promise I won’t go on and on, I know I’ve said a lot about this fic and series already. But it’s the first long form fic I’ve ever completed, really the first novel I’ve ever written, and I’m just trying to allow myself to be proud of that. It was a lot of fun to take a rare pair and really put the work in to make it happen, to wrestle with the things they’d disagree on and the ways they’d butt heads and slowly build a connection. I think it did a lot to challenge my writing, my plotting, and my characterization, and it just helped me re-discover the joy I find in writing. Plus it’s the reason I’ve met a lot of wonderful new friends here!

Tagging (with no pressure): @adventuresofmeghatron, @poemsfromthealley, @mechanicalism, and @molliehaswords

#writing memes #top three meme #my writing #adoribull #deacready

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post-atomic-photography · 3 years

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Fallout 4 OC - Tess

A character sheet for my current Fallout OC and player character, Tess. Character is based of this one with some modification

IDENTITY]

Full name: Tess AKA: none (trying to bring up her Institute designation “deadname” will quickly see her trying to kill you) Gender: nonbinay woman Pronouns: She/they Biology: Gen 3 Synth Place of birth: The Institute Robotics Division Date of birth: Some time in the autumn of 2262 Current age: approximately 25 Ethnicity: mixed Pre-escape job: Advanced Systems lab assistant

Current living place: The Cats Crib, a converted warehouse close to the Atom Cats Garage

[ALIGNMENT]

Chosen factions: Atom Cats Role: Courier and spare parts procurement

Allied factions: Minutemen / Railroad Tess can’t help feels strong bonds with those trying to help others and make the world a better place, or those trying to free her synth siblings from the clutches of the Institute and the SRB

Enemy factions: BoS / Institute / Gunners / Raiders Control freaks and those who hurt others are by default no friends of Tess

[PERSONALITY]

Alignment: chaotic / good

Main qualities: Compassionate, curious, clever, optimistic

Main flaws: - Her compassion and naivety about some situations can often lead her getting taken advantage of - Her curiosity can also lead her into going places or getting into situations she really shouldn’t

Fears: -That the SRB will come for her and drag her back to the Institute. - In addition, having her memories erased or altered is a big fear too. It’s been a sore spot in her relationship with the Railroad and their memory wipes on fellow escapee even if they are voluntary.

[RELATIONSHIPS]

Status: taken/open relationship

Sexual orientation: lesbian

People closest to them: Aside from her partner Piper, Tess holds her fellow Atom Cats close, especially Rowdy who she considers her best friend and one time crush

People they hate: Aside from the obvious candidates like raiders, Gunners, Coursers, etc, Tess absolutely loathes Myrna the merchant. Tess would gladly crack her across the jaw if the merchant wouldn’t immediately have her gunned down. As a compromise, she’ll never by directly from Myrna and always wait to deal with her nightshift Mister Handy

Family: Her fellow Atom Cats and Piper’s sister Nat. She also considers Rowdy and Glory as sisters

[PHYSICAL]

Height: 6'0 or 182cm Build: trimmed Eyes color: vivid green Hair color: Naturally black but Tess keeps it dyed purple (said purple dye is a concoction mixed up by Rowdy from power armor paint) Hair style: Tied-back dreadlocks

Tattoos/scars/markings: - several scars left from a rabid mongrel attack just after escaping from the Institute. Has considered getting them removed but keeps them as she feels they help make her a more unique synth - a synth tracking barcode on her neck that she’s repeatedly considered getting covered up but never goes through with - a butterfly in nonbinary colors on her left shoulder

[BASE S.P.E.C.I.A.L. STATS]

Strength: 1 Perception: 7 Endurance: 3 Charisma: 4 Intelligence: 8 Agility: 4 Luck: 1

[ABILITIES]

Spoken language: Primarily English. Some Latin from her time in the Institute and some french from spending time with Curie

Strengths: sharp eyed, quick learner, and adept in all manner of technical and scientific means

Weakness: stunted social skills and knowledge of the world due to early life in the Institute, strong sense of morals can often lead her into conflict with those with more flexible interpretations of things, very low tolerance for alcohol or chems

[RANDOM]

Favorite piece of clothes: Nuka-cola glasses and her Atom Cats jacket Favored weapons: Deadeye, a silenced Manwell Rifle Lucky charm: Her restored ProSnap camera and a toy alien she’s taken to calling Toby

Favorite food: Tess has an intense sweet tooth so sweet rolls and Fancy Lad better watch out. She also fond of mirelurk omelette for when she has to make "real" food.

Favorite beverage: Nuka-Grape Favorite season: Autumn. After so many years in the never changing climate controlled Institute, she has come to adore the changes in colors and temperature the season brings Favorite radio station: The Cat’s Meow

#Fallout 4 #fallout OC #character sheet #OC: Tess

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bubblesyoh · 4 years

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Finesse

No matter how many times Michael has seen it, Alex Manes in a tux was a sight. The dark blazer hugs his shoulders and arms just the right way, Michael's eyes follow the flex and dip of every muscle thinking how amazing the suit would look on the floor later that night. There was just something so alluring when Alex suit up, somehow it complimented him, enhancing his sharp features to something almost God-like.

"Michael?"

"Uh," Michael said, eloquently. "Yeah. The shirt looks good."

"Sure," Alex replies, adjusting his tie, sounding like he was having fun. Sometimes Michael was glad for their line of work, being a spy was always more fun when you had Alex in a suit to ogle at.

"You clean up nicely," Michael told him, waiting for Alex to do his tie correctly before leaning him against the door, eyeing him up and down, dragging their lips together, hot and wet.

Alex moans, a barely-there sound in the back of his throat, and breaks the kiss, "Your turn to dress up."

Michael used to be terrible at blending in, especially in charity events. All the people chatting and mingling, canapes and crystal flutes clinking, used to make Michael itch, it was oppressing, he felt like he didn't belong. Then one day, Alex came along and Michael could finally breathe in easier and play his part. He nips on the miniature sandwich as he walks to Alex, who is in the middle of some conversation. Alex is gorgeous when standing tall and proud of himself, the way his eyes lit up when he smiles at Michael is ethereal. God damn it, those cheekbones.

Michael goes easily when Alex crooks his fingers, ordering him closer. He flinches slightly when Alex pushes him closer, as he whispers a Michael to his ear, the warm air escaping his lips and tickling the sensitive skin of Michael's neck. Half of it was Alex putting on a show, after all, they were here as a job, but the rest was definitely Alex teasing him, and if there was one thing Michael loved, was to play games.

Michael, casually, gropes Alex's butt, perfectly round by the amazing pants he was wearing, Michael is fighting such a voracious battle that he has to bite his lip when he whispers back; "Saving the best for last."

While they know it is not correct, and if any of the other members of the crew would find them making out like horny teenagers in a tiny bathroom the teasing would be nonstop, well, that is how they end up. It's cramped and the stall barely has enough room for them both in it, but it's not like either of them mind as they're pressed as close against one another as possible anyway.

"What am I going to do with you, Michael." Alex groans, but there's a distinctive trace of amusement dancing in his voice.

Michael doesn't answer, instead, he shushes Alex with a warning glare, reminding him they have to be careful and kisses him. He holds onto Alex to dear life, drinking of the muffled moans and all the other noises that Alex is trying to get out. By the time they let go of each other, Alex looks wrecked, hair disheveled, eyes dark and an undone tie hanging around his neck precariously. Michael thinks he looks delicious.

They had an entire day just for the two of them today, and they were trying to make the best of it. Sometimes Alex felt silly, to bring Michael on a coffee date, such a mundane thing to do. The discrepancy between their jobs and their private lives was a laughable thing. That was Alex's mistake, to think they had a private life. Because when Michael took too much time in the bathroom, Alex did not think much of it, and when more time passed and Michael did not appear, eventually it clicked, but by then Michael was long gone.

Usually, Alex is good at following the rules they have, even if they are self-employed, it is a risky business. But love is a fickle thing that is uncertain and Alex had walked into it with eyes wide open and still managed to let it bite it in the ass. He is angry, at them for taking Michael, and at himself for letting this happen. Isobel is not pleased with him, Kyle has no right to judge him, and Max is a hypocrite.

The enemy does not want money, no, they want information. Information that if ever comes to light, it will create a war of proportions never seen before. Everyone is breathing down his neck, demanding that he fix the situation, as if it would be easy to trade the information they have for Michael. He entertains doing it for a few minutes, to do it and let everyone else deal with the fallout, but what would become of them then? Spent the rest of their lives running, to never feel safe, and be constantly looking over their shoulders?

This is not the first time they had trouble with an enemy agency, but it is the first time that it escalated to such a shit show. They received a small video recording of Michael, and Alex is trying to track it down. The only reassurance Alex has is that Michael can fend for himself, on another hand Michael also likes to antagonize and taunt. The only lead they have is a five-second clip of Michael smirking at the camera with a split lip, blood trailing down his chin, and tainting his shirt red.

The next day, Kyle and Liz come and take over, allowing Alex a few hours of restless sleep where the sound of Michael's labored breathing echoes in his ears, accompanied by that damn smirk. He finally sleeps a few hours, holding onto the thought they will not kill Michael if they want information. He dreams of Michael's warm and pleasant laugh echoing in his ears.

Michael woke up to the cold concrete, digging into his face, his head was pounding, mouth dry. For a long moment, he fought to understand what was happening, but somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a sense of urgency. It was hard to think, his mind heavy and slow, it was a struggle to open his eyes and once he finally succeeded, he had to blink for long minutes for his eyes to get used to the bright light.

There were no windows, just a small cement cell with nothing on it, not even a mattress. There are no visible hinges on the door, there is no vent in the ceiling, only the neon-bright light. The door opens outwards, no amount of pushing on the door gave results, not even a smudge. Michael eventually gives up and sits against the wall, legs crossed. He felt strangely raw, overwhelmed by the slightest sensation.

"I see you are awake," a voice said echoes around the room. It was a dark voice, one which stirred a memory. If only he could push through the grogginess. Drugs. The realization did not bring the sudden alarm it should have caused, even though there was still an insistent sense of urgency at the back of his mind.

"What do you want?" Michael asks, his mind is a swirl of racing thoughts and only one of them comes through loud and clear.

Danger.

Before he can react, there are cold hands on his wrists squeezing, pulling him up roughly. His stomach churns, the nausea was so strong that Michael thinks he will vomit. Time passes, whether it's seconds or hours, there's no way to be certain, every muscle in his body ached, his heart is beating inhumanly fast, he's gasping for air.

One of his wrists is already broken when they strap him down to the table, even if Michael doesn't remember fighting back and things only go downhill from there. They ask him things he has no intention of answering, and he tells them so, cheerfully.

He laughs then, when he is finally coming to himself, no longer lost in the haze of uncertainty.

"Jesse Manes."

Michael is not here, but he lingers in Alex's apartment. There are so many little things that remind Alex of him, a pair of forgotten shoes by the door, a stupid shirt over the sofa, on the coffee table a couple of science magazines, those terrible personalized mugs with puns, I love you s'more is currently drying on the rack.

He and Michael had a long story, not always the easiest, but if there was someone Alex would trust with anything, Michael was that person and part of him is angry at his stupid partner that let himself being captured. The other part is angry at himself for letting their relationship became entangled with their line of work. It had been such a selfish decision, but at the same time, it had been for their happiness. How could not Alex thought this was a possibility, his father after all was a rancorous man.

Angrily wiping the tears from his burning eyes, Alex takes the gun and inspects it, dissembles and reassembles, familiarizing himself with the weight of it in his hand. Or maybe he was just anxious and needed something to do with his hands. That was most likely the reason even if he wants to deny it.

"You're not reporting?" Kyle asks, looking over Alex's shoulder at Alex's work, trying to decipher how he had found out where Michael was. Earlier today they had received another email, this time there was a photo of Michael attached to it. He was bloody and smiling once again for the camera, mocking his kidnappers. Alex wanted him right next to him.

Alex does not answer right away, instead, he loads the gun. "This is personal. You know what they do to people in those places."

"Alex, it is also a trap and you know it."

"This is personal, Kyle," He repeats once more. Everyone needs to understand that this is Jesse Manes and nothing else. It's an evil and disgusting plot to try and destroy Alex. "My father is busy doing whatever the fuck he does, and we are here losing time arguing."

"You can't go alone. It's dangerous." Kyle places a hand on his arm to stop him. "I want you to stop and think for a moment. There are safer ways to get Michael back, dive headfirst into this is not one of those."

Alex's glares and Kyle glares back, not relenting. But Alex does not want to understand, he lifts his chin in defiance, face impassive and cold. Alex just wants Michael back, Alex wants him back right this instant. Kyle lets go of his arm and stares right back at Alex, making his choice known.

"You talk too much," were the words out of the man's mouth as he shoved him back in the cell, Michael had to choke a laugh at them. That felt like it was a month ago.

Michael doesn't know how long he's been locked in the small windowless room. There's nothing to pass the time but his thoughts and the occasional meal and cup of water that comes through a slat at the door. His arm aches something fierce, a sharp pain that comes from his fingers all up to his elbow and travels to his shoulder whenever he tries to move the injured limb.

There's been no more demands, no more questions, only the occasional beating. There's no reason for more, Jesse Manes clarified that Michael was part of his crazy scheme to lure Alex. Michael can feel things changing. But what more can he do if not sit on the ground, hours upon hours, the cell constantly illuminated by the light bulb, thinking about how he misses Alex, wishing for him to come, but also for him to stay away and save himself.

He wonders if they miss him, his team, his family, just as much as he misses them. He considers what they think of him for getting caught in such an ordinary way. Michael was drugged in a coffee shop bathroom, what a joke. But most of all he thinks about Alex, his mind always goes back to him no matter what, and that is most likely the only thing keeping him sane, that and the wait for the right moment to attack.

"I had a plan!" Max suddenly shouted, "I had a plan, okay? I was going to get him back!"

Alex bounced his feet on the floor, showing that this explanation wasn't satisfactory. He looks at Kyle because Alex could do this alone, he could also tolerate Kyle's help, but now Max? No.

Max continued anyway, "We need something from them too, the information they have, we need it, Alex. Then I would get Michael out, all right?"

Alex looks at him, not faltering. "I don't give a damn about your plans to get him out once you had gotten something in return. We are getting him out of there now or I will knock that pretentious smile out of your fucking face with my fists."

"Due to the situation, we know that it will be dangerous and if we want to get close enough, we may have to do things that we may not agree with it." Kyle turns to Max and gives him a warning look, Max ignores it.

"Ok, we will head out first thing in the morning." Worry was clear on Max's features, but it was not enough for Alex.

"You do know that Michael is in a research facility, right? We are heading out right now. I will do this and Michael will be safe and sound right here next to me where he belongs." Alex snarls in incredulity. Just the thought of Michael spending another minute in that place was enough to make him nauseous.

They don't understand who Jesse Manes is. No one, besides Alex and Michael, had seen what Jesse Manes is capable of, and if Max had the smallest idea, Alex was sure we would not want to wait until the morning.

There it stood the building, so imposing it appears never-ending, from the street it looks like nothing. For Alex, though, it looks empty. There was not a living soul guarding the double doors, no security around the perimeter. The stillness of it all sent shivers running down his spine. It had been too easy to follow the trail of the video and the photo they had sent to Alex. It was almost like they wanted him to find Michael, but if this place was empty, then why had his father run away and left Michael behind?

From the outside, the place seemed to be ok, but when Alex reaches the door, he can hear a faint alarm in the distance. Boots crunching on the gravel floor, Alex braces himself and shoulders straight through the outside door, smashing his way into the building, because fuck finesse. The inside of it was a complete mess, it was as if they knew he was coming and evacuated the place, the distressed wailing of the alarm much more present now. Kyle reaches a hand to a closed-door next to him and it opens without preamble. No security, no lock, nothing.

Alex memorized the blueprints, so he knows that the compound was akin to a maze, rooms, and floors joined by corridors with a polished linoleum floor and white sterile walls, giving the place the impression of a strange cross between a hospital and an asylum. He's immediately on the move, heading in the direction he needs to be going to try to find Michael, letting the information collecting to Kyle.

He runs the length of a lab, there are several pieces of equipment inside, what was once stainless steel and fancy furniture is now broken and in pieces, the leftovers of a hasty retreat. He jumps over the smashed glass and past a couple of bodies of what he assumes must be the technicians. The closer he gets to where he thinks Michael is, the most signs of a fight he catches.

Alex races through a bare cement corridor and kicks through the door he comes across, the lock snapping easily. He immediately comes face to face with three armed guards, they're so shocked by his abrupt entrance that they don't even have time to straighten up before Alex kills the first one, a clean shot to the head. He tries not to ponder on the horrible satisfaction he feels as the body falls to the ground. The next two charges at him, enraged and screaming. Alex ducks from the oncoming fist, smashes one of the man's head against a metal table, aims his gun, and pulls out the trigger at the other.

When needed, Michael had the patience of a saint, he knew an opening would present itself, it was human nature to commit mistakes. Michael was trained to persevere and endure. The agent guarding him has become used to Michael's lack of fight, so when he opens the door one fine day, Michael is ready.

In three steps Michael is close enough to grab the man's wrist, using his arm to shove the others gun away. Still, the agent fires, the bullet nicks Michael's cheek, leaving his ears ringing, along with a trail of hot blood. The agent's eyes flare with rage, face in a snarl, eyes locked on his guns that fall to the ground with a thud. With a quick jerk, Michael lashed out, curling his fingers into a fist and hitting him to the side of his head twice, jabbing him in the nose with his palm, and he falls to the ground unconscious.

Another guard joins the fight then, he feints with his left fist and follows with a leg sweep. Michael expects the blow and jumps over his foot, hitting the agent with a knee in his side. The force behind the blow sends him stumbling back a few steps, but not before Michael had grabbed one of the knives strapped to the other's thigh and throws it straight into the man's eye. That is when a high-pitched wail starts from a nearby speaker, someone had pulled the alarms.

And that is how Alex finds him approximately one hour later, in the middle of some weird-ass laboratory, there was even a shower for chemical decontamination, with half a dozen bodies as company.

"Took you long enough," Michael says, pulling the knife out of a man's throat and blood spews from the wound.

"I knew you had it under control," Alex responds with false dismiss, his eyes scanning Michael with despair. And damn it all, because here is Alex, in one of his black suit without a single wrinkle, despite the chaos all around him. For a moment Michael stays put where he is, trying to understand the absurdity of it all. The man Michael loves just invaded an enemy agency and for Alex, it seems it is just another Sunday.

"Are you alright?" Alex asked, making his way to Michael.

"A few bruises, a minor fracture in my wrist, not much," he smiled grimly. "They don't take too kindly to backtalk."

They are face to face now, noses almost touching, when Alex spins Michael around and herds him towards the exit, as a bullet ricochets off the wall and plows into the cement him with a loud crack, sending tiny fragments of brick flying.

"Amateurs," he says, and Michael lets out a scoff, just as the next bullet embeds itself right above his head. "Better," Alex said with a small nod of approval. Michael sees Alex counting every bullet, waiting for the time the enemy will need to reload and shots two times. He was rewarded by a yell and fires twice more before signaling Michael to follow him.

They weave their way through the blood-soaked floor, Alex practically hauls Michael along the corridors and back into the main floor. If Michael was alone, it would take him a few to find the exit. When they burst through the doors Michael frowns at the sunlight, so different from the artificial light that had kept him company during his vacation, but he also feels like he can finally breathe again.

Max bursts out of the van that's parked across the road, a thunderous expression marring his face. "Would it kill you to listen to me for once in your life?"

"It might," Alex says, uncaring.

"Max," Michael greets.

Suddenly Max seems to remember where they were, mouth gaping open before he nods and gives Michael a quick hug. "Michael, are you okay? Is he okay?" Max asks all over the place.

"No," Michael answers.

"He's fine, some bruises but fine," Alex cuts Michael off with a look that says, what are you doing, he will hover like a mother hen and we want peace and quiet. "Kyle's done?"

"Yes, he's waiting in the car, the place is rigged to blow."

Michael finds himself zoning out from the rest conversation, half-listening as his mind wanders elsewhere, home. Home with Alex, both of them cuddling in front of the TV, buried under blankets, resting against fluffy pillows and a cup of hot chocolate. Michael was never one to be afraid of death, but the possibility of him never being with Alex again makes his heartbeat erratically in his chest.

Delicate fingers touch his cheek and Michael flinches away, pressing his eyes together, bracing for pain, but —

"Come home with me," Alex murmurs softly, voice so full of love and tenderness that Michael would do anything he asked of him.

Michael opens his mouth and closes it seconds afterward, repeats the action various times, and suddenly he is so exhausted that his legs stop supporting him. Alex immediately reaches to steady him, slipping an arm under his shoulder and hauling him to his side, and Michael takes advantage of the position, rests his head on Alex's shoulder, and closes his eyes, just for a few seconds.

Later on, Michael opens his eyes to the sound of a distant boom and what it seems the roar of flames. He doesn't care about it though, the only thing that matters now is the warmth of Alex's arms around him and the soft humming of words he is whispering against Michael's ears.

#Malex #alex manes #michael guerin #malex fanfic #malex fic #roswell new mexico #spy au #implied torture #they are dorks #that love each other #kidnapping #Alex is badass #Michael likes when Alex dresses in a suit

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thevaultturtle · 4 years

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Fallout Love Languages

Fallout 4 Human and Synth Companions + Maxson

Happy Valentine's Day! Based on Chapman's Five Love Languages, which can technically be romantic or platonic, but we'll be using them in a romantic sense here! Let me know if you want anyone added to the list!

If you like what I do, please support me on Ko-Fi (link in my description)!

Cait

The main thing with Cait is that any partner, or hell, even just an acquaintance, will have to prove themselves to her, whether they're romantically involved with her or not. If there is romance involved, though, it will be a lot harder to do this, because she doesn't exactly trust others in general, and she sure as hell isn't too keen to trust someone with her heart. It's going to take a lot of time and effort to earn her trust and a place in her heart, and her main love languages are quality time and acts of service. When someone is trying to prove themselves to Cait, they've got to stay with her as much as they can; they can't just up and leave her for any random reason, or else she might feel they've abandoned her. If they do need to leave her for a bit, they'll have to give her a good reason for doing so, and she'll still have some doubts in them until they actually come back to her like they said they would. The more time spent with her, the better, and while this won't exactly be 'quality time’ at first, it will lead to it, because she will start to open up to them, especially if they include some acts of services for her during this initial time period. The services don't have to be anything too elaborate, so long as they prove that she can trust her partner in some way or another.

Curie

Curie just loves love. Loving someone, being loved by somebody- all of it is just so mesmerizing for her. Having the capacity to love is new to her, and she wants to explore it to its full extent. She will gladly express and receive love however she can, and no matter which love language that happens through, she will be utterly enthralled by it. The simplest tough, like holding hands, hugging, or even just brushing her hand against her partner as she passes them will leave her giddy for hours, and each word of endearment, whether written or spoken, will be memorized and cherished for eternity. Each act of service will be fawned over and reciprocated in tenfold, each gift will be treated and preserved for as long as possible, and she will forever be grateful for each minute that her partner spends with her. Since love is so new to her, she doesn't fully understand it, but all that does is ignite her curiosity and obsession with it even further. Needless to say, her relationship with her partner will never be short on expressions of love, of all kinds.

Danse

Acts of service and touch are his two primary love languages. Danse certainly doesn't mind being shown love in other ways, but the time, thought, and effort that acts of service require are what he really needs to see to believe that someone’s feelings for him are real, and that’s also the sentiment that he uses when showing love for someone else. He'll appreciate anything that his partner does for him, no matter how big or small the act may be, and he gives back as good as he gets. The touch aspect won't really come into play until later, because he has to be really comfortable with someone before he's willing to open up to them about this side of himself. The type of touch that he uses to convey his feeling is by no means causal, nor is it inherently sexual; it's intimate and vulnerable, which are two things that people wouldn't normally associate with Danse, and he certainly wouldn't associate them with himself, either, which is why he's a bit embarrassed by this aspect of his character. Still, the thought of being able hold onto his partner for as long as he wants to, the apocalyptic world around them merely an afterthought while they were together, is something that Danse truly cherishes, even if it also flusters him to no end.

Deacon

Deacon is a bit more complicated to read when it comes to his love language, but quality time would probably be his primary love language, with touch and words of affirmation secondary to that. Words of affirmation only work one way with him, and that's when receiving love. He's not exactly in denial when it comes to the fact that he's a liar, so even if he doesn't mind having love expressed to him that way, he's too self-aware and respectful of his partner to try to express his love to them in that manner. Touch is also a bit iffy with him, because he has some very mixed feelings about it. He does not like to be touched on a regular basis; it's too intimate and it's too real for his taste, so his love for someone would have to be extremely strong for him to get to the point of letting them touch him in any sort of intimate or loving manner, but once he gets to that point, he'll go all in with it. His main way of expressing love, though, is through quality time. Deacon, on a regular, daily basis, is a runner. At the first sign of danger, or if he even gets a hint that something will make him uncomfortable, he's gone, Stealth Boy on, out of sight and mind. The fact that he ignores that urge to run for his partner really speaks volumes for how strongly he feels about them, especially once he realizes that he's starting to get romantic feelings for them, because nothing scares Deacon more in this world than love.

Hancock

Little did we all know, there's actually a sixth love language: chems. Just plain old chems, all day, every day, and that's the only kind of love that Hancock subscribes to. Obviously, this is just a joke, although the act of giving someone chems could count as gift giving (although that is a very nefarious gift), and while Hancock certainly wouldn't mind that one bit, he generally prefers to show and receive love through words of affirmation and quality time. Hancock just plainly likes to be around the people that he cares about, whether that’s romantically or platonically. It helps to set the atmosphere for him; if he's around people that he trusts and he's comfortable with, and he can cut loose with them to his heart’s content, then he knows that he's bound to have a good time, no matter what happens, and if he's around someone that he's in love with, well, that feeling and that atmosphere gets a whole lot better. When it comes to words of affirmation, Hancock only surrounds himself with people that he can trust and take their word for what it is, or he can at least read them well enough to know when they're bullshitting him. The same goes for his romantic partner, so when they say that they love him, he knows that they mean it, even if they don't say it directly.

MacCready

It would be a disservice to the surprising sweetness of RJ MacCready if gift giving wasn't mentioned here, and obviously his gifts hold great value in one way or another. Needless to say, if he's willing to give someone the carved wooden soldier that was made and given to him by someone who meant the world to him, the mother of his son no less, then there’s no don't that they mean a hell of a lot to him. Based on this, he obviously knows that even the smallest of objects can have the greatest of values, so he's perfectly fine with being shown love this way, as well. If the gift means a lot to his partner, then it'll mean even more to him. He also expresses and wants to be shown love through acts of service, which is actually a pretty common thing among people in the Wasteland. In this apocalyptic hellscape, just backing somebody up can go such a long way, and if you actively try to make someone's life easier (which is almost impossible with all of the horrors in the world) and you’re willing to risk your life for them, then that really speaks volumes to how much you care for them, and MacCready, like most Wastelanders, is perfectly aware of that fact.

Nick Valentine

Look, Nick is an old-fashioned kind of guy, so he doesn't exactly try to limit how he expresses his love, and in fact, he makes an active effort not to. His partner will experience all five of the love languages while they're with this classy detective through words of affirmation that are just as classy and endearing as he is, through acts of service that could touch even the coldest of souls because of how thoughtful and helpful they are, through gifts that may be small but are still bound to bring a smile to their face, and through all of the time that he spends with them, his focus completely on them, when not even his work can drag his attention away from them. The only one that he's a little iffy on is touch, which isn't because he has some sort of aversion to touch or anything like that, but it's more or less because of his body. He’s in a very peculiar situation: he’s a synth with the memories of man, with a fully robotic body, who knows he's a synth, and is self-aware enough to know that those memories aren't and were never really his. It's a setup that makes something as simple as touch a bit more complicated. For one, he doubts that it's comfortable for his partner whenever he touches them, but even beyond that, reaching out to touch someone, expecting to feel the warmth of their skin beneath your fingertips, knowing what it's supposed to feel like but not experiencing that because all you've got is a cold, numb robotic hand…Nick accepted what he was a long time ago, but one of the few things that makes him regret that is not being able to experience touch like the original Nick did.

Old Longfellow

With Old Longfellow, you won't be able to get by with cheap words or fancy gifts (although he wouldn't mind being given a good drink on occasion). He's okay with touch, but when it boils down to it, this old man likes to show and receive love through quality time and acts of service. Words are meaningless unless you back them up with actions, so anyone trying to win Old Longfellow’s heart better be ready to work day in, day out to prove to him that their feelings are genuine. This is a give and take situation, though, because Old Longfellow isn't going to just sit back and watch while someone busts their ass for him. If the feelings are mutual or there’s at least potential for them to be, then every act of service that they do will be reciprocated in kind. He's certainly more prone to larger acts of service, ones that have more stake attached to them, like looking out for his partner during combat, getting them out of harm’s way, and even going into a dangerous situation in their stead, but he'll also throw in a few small things here and there, like taking a longer watch so they can sleep a bit longer, going through the nastier bits of scavenging so they don’t have to, and so on. The quality time comes in because he's of the mind that if you can't stand to be around each other for an extended period of time, then what's the point?

Piper

Anyone trying to show Piper some love might find themselves in a bit of a predicament, because her primary love language is words of affirmation, and seeing as she's a bit of a wordsmith herself as well as a secret romantic at heart, it can be a bit hard to impress her with this. Now, don't take this the wrong way, because she will truly appreciate and cherish every caring word that her partner sends her way and she knows that they truly mean them, but she does dream of grand love confessions, of the most poetic and epic variety. If her partner isn't able to give her something like that, it's fine, but she'll still keep dreaming about it. Beyond that, though, she also likes to spend a lot of quality time with her partner, and she could honestly listen to them talk all day if she had the chance to, no matter what subject their words turned to. It doesn't just have to be the two of them, either. She'd love to spend time with both her partner and with Nat, as a family.

Porter Gage

Gage is a bit…unconventional when it comes to love, as one would probably expect. His main love language is acts of service, which sounds fine enough on the surface, but the acts that he dishes out and wants in return aren't exactly 'small’ or ' innocent', and they aren’t always gentle in nature, either. It's more about what they can do for him and what he can do for them in turn, mainly in the terms of building each other up to survive. Since the Wasteland is such a difficult place to survive in, that love can be a bit tough at times, and given Gage’s distrust towards most people, it could also end up costing somebody else their life. Gage would literally kill for his partner, and he expects the same in return. He also knows that money goes a long way when it comes to survival, so his acts of service also include helping to build each other to success, in the way of getting as many caps as possible, and as much power as possible. It’s relatively sweet overall, just in a bit of a twisted way. He is also quite fond of material possessions, particularly the expensive kind, so his secondary love language is gift giving. His gifts will be practical to some extent, but the expense is slightly more important to him.

Preston Garvey

Oh, sweet Preston is just so open to love in any way, shape, or form, but he does have a preference for touch and quality time. He knows that in the Wasteland, you have to hold on to the ones that you love, that every moment with them is precious because tomorrow is never a guarantee, so he wants to be with his partner as much as possible, spending time with them, talking about everything and nothing, holding them, feeling them against him so he knows that they're really there, feeling their warmth so he knows that they're still alive and safe in his arms. It’s a sentiment that only grew stronger after the massacre at Quincy, and he lives with the constant fear that something like that will happen again, that he won’t be strong enough to stop it and that his partner will suffer for that weakness. It’s a fear that makes him hold onto his partner even tighter, and his heart breaks each time that he has to let them go, but it also drives him to get stronger, to be better so that a massacre of that caliber never torments the Commonwealth again while it’s under his watch, and so his partner can live as safely as possible.

X6-88

Well, this is a bit of tough one. Is X6-88 capable of love? It’s certainly not a synth thing given some of the previous entries on this list, but it is a him thing. X6 doesn’t exactly present himself as being a caring individual, but he does show some human qualities, like being afraid of heights, and he does seem to at least greatly respect the Sole Survivor if they max out his affinity, so we’ll just give him the benefit of the doubt. As for how he would express that love, or the manner in which he would want it expressed to him…words of affirmation and acts of service? One thing is for certain about X6, and that is the fact that he’s very direct in just about everything that he does. It’s the most efficient way of doing things, so he’d probably want to be efficient in expressing love, as well, and words of affirmation is probably the most direct way that he could do that. A simple ‘I love you’ would probably suffice for him. As for the acts of service, putting forth the effort to keep somebody alive means a lot coming from him, especially if it wasn’t something that he was ordered to do.

Maxson

Based on his background, it doesn’t really seem like Maxson is too familiar with affection. For his own safety, his mother sent him off at a young age, and he was raised around soldiers who were more concerned with training him over anything else, and then when you consider how young he was when he became Elder and how much of his time was taken up by that…yeah, he hasn’t had a whole lot of love or affection in his life. Because of that, he’s just happy to finally have someone who shows him genuine warmth, and simple expressions of love are really all that he wants and needs. Another side effect of this is that he can be a bit awkward when it comes to expressing love, but he tries. And since simple is the way to go, simple words of affirmation will mean the world to him. He mainly just wants to hear how his partner feels about him, but compliments and whatnot would be fine, too, so long as they’re more personal and not tied to his position as Elder. The reason for this is because everyone under his command commends him on his leadership on a daily basis, and he’d just rather hear something more personal from his partner. Simple acts of physical affection and touch also work really well with him.

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lady-daydream · 4 years

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Fallout New Vegas Companions Reactions/Thoughts on Classical Music

As requested this ones for you @winged-light-collectors-posts , I'm sorry it took so long, I hope this is okay, the reacts aren't as long as I would have liked however I found that got stumped by a few of the characters. If I missed anyone please let me know. And also you seem like a lovely person and your love of classical music was really refreshing :)

Once again I apologise for spelling error, I am horrible at spell checking. If anyone has any imaginations or reactions from fallout 3-4 or new Vegas just comment or send a request. Hope you all enjoy and have an amazing day -Love you all <3

Btw if anyone cares I listened to Tchaikovsky 1812 overture with cannons, Clair De lune Ethereal remix, and chop in Ballade No.4 in F minor ethereal remix while writing

Arcade: It wasn't the first time he had heard Classical music, due to some of the enclave radios having classical music paired to their broadcasts. Surprisingly, despite the memory of the music being attached to his past he enjoys it. Even commenting to you once or twice when he would recall his mum listening to certain songs when she was alive. He also preferred the soothing factor to classical which he found made it easier to focus compared to some of the limited other choices available. So whenever you both are resting or are setting up camp the both of you may be found relax doing your respected activities such as repairing weapons and reading while Tchaikovsky or Rachmaninov plays in the background.

Boone: He didn't have a strong opinion on what music the courier listened to while traveling with him. While serving he learnt that music of all different genres helped soldiers relax, or reminded them of happier times or just of home. Though he did wander from time to time what the genre of music said about a person.However he normally didn't think too hard about it or just didn't want to go down that rabbit hole of a thought process. Through travelling with you over time he slowly learnt to warm up to some songs, with calmer songs such as those by Chopin being his favourites though he would never tell you. And on rare occasions when you both are travelling and he can see the night sky, the classical music helps him relax enough to close his eyes even for a moment without his own ghosts haunting him.

Cassidy: Similar to Boone, she was indifferent to classical music. Though every so often while travelling with you she may comment that it reminded her of a few mornings she had woken up in bars across the wasteland, with a hangover stronger than an radscorpions sting. She did find it annoying whenever the courier seemed to stop and become engrossed in the music, moaning how they were burning daylight. However when the both of you are drunk, the both of you may try and make lyrics to classical tunes, curses and dirty lyrics included until the both of you are rolling on the floor laughing on the ground like idiots or somehow turn certain sounds in the songs into drinking games.

Ed-e: The both of you enjoy classical music, the robot bopping along with the courier whistling along side. It always made you smile when you would hear happy beeping noises whenever a certain song would comes on the radio. After travelling for a while, Ed-e starts to play certain tunes himself, some of which he must have recorded while Whitley was in the room, as sometimes a person humming or a small mutter or comment can be heard. You knew how important Whitley was, almost like a father to Ed-e as after a while the mans comments blend into the music itself . However you wandered if Ed-e recorded the two of you listening to music similar to Whitley as sometimes while stopping to set up camp for the night Ed-e seems oddly quiet while the two off you listen to your pip-boy. However even if he was recording you didn't mind, you were more happy that Ed-e saw you as important enough to him to want to remember your times together.

Follows-Chalk: Neither of you had really listened to classical before meeting, and Follows-Chalk hadn't heard it at all. However while searching for a certain radio station while travelling with him you stumbled across the classical music station. Follows-chalk instantly loves it. Whistling some of the tunes he had heard while you travel together. Sometimes commenting on the differences between the music he had heard from the travelling singer when he was younger as well as some of the songs his tribe would sing. He would sometimes even teach you some in return for playing some classical music. He always has questions about the artists and their meanings, which you would often reply that it was up to him and how the music made him feel. And so sometimes when the both of you are travelling you may share what the music makes you both feel and think of, helping you both understand each other better.

Joshua: Listening to it was a kick from the past, as memories of listening to it while he was living in New Canaan with his family long before Caesar come flooding back the first time he heard or listening to it. He tried to enjoy the music as much as possible,trying to hold on to the more positive memories of his family- of his father and mother listening to it while doing other activities, memories childhood friends and the misadventures of kids all while having classical music in the background as they all got up to mischief. These memories did leave a smile that hurt as it pulled at burnt calloused skin. However through listening he was also reminded of the absences.The new Cannans destruction, of his family's and friend death. How his love of the music had dissolved as he got closer to Caesar and further away from his childhood and home. You notice he gets slightly quieter when you play the music and If you ask him if he is okay he will comment on these memories, not going into too much detail unless questioned further, respecting your one associations of the music don't need to be shared with his. After travelling a while, slowly he would try and dissociate the music with his memories replacing them with more positive moments while travelling you or just letting the sound of the music flow through him. On very rare occasion he might even ask you if he may offer to dance, commenting that he learnt from a few dances and events the town had in his youth. Mostly however, he is just glad he was able to listen to the music with you, using the calming music to just focus on the two of you and the peace the music brought him.

The King: On first listening he didn't like it. He didn't mind you listening to it if he saw it made you happy; however, he would always recommend songs from ‘the king” on holotapes he had. Both of you at first choose to respect each other's opinions. After a while though both of you made a deal. For every song he listened to of your preferred genre of music, you would listen to one he wanted you to listen to. So it became a routine. Whenever he knew you had a long journey he would slip you holotapes with songs such as ‘suspicious minds’ and ‘stuck on you’ and in return when alone The king would listen to the radio station you recommended. After a while you both soften up to each others music and as the both of you got closer you both associate certain lyrics and songs to each other, with the songs ‘Can't Help Falling In Love’ and ‘Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No.2′ holding a special place in both of your hearts. When things get more serious, he might even sing small medley of songs from either genres that you stated you like more, and would even nickname you his ‘symphony’ or his “song bird” if you try to sing any of the songs he likes.

Raul: When you listened to classical music with him for the first time he laughed, sarcastically commenting on “isn't this music a little too old for you, boss?” or “Mi abuela would have loved you”. Plus if you enjoyed the music he didn't really mind. If the radio station had different regional classical music, Raul would happily translate any lyrics if need be if he recognised it, commenting of different memories of his family if the both of you were comfortable enough sharing.Unlike other companions he was able to educate you on some of the instruments used and just the basic knowledge he would have known before the bombs fell. Once or twice though if you are both relaxed (and if you have had a few to drink) you might ask him to dance to some of the more energetic classical songs. And though he will resort to comments about his knees can't handle dancing, and how “you are a few 100 years too late to be asking him to dance”. He still will dance anyway laughing at the joy you brought with you - as well as both of your dancing ability.

Veronica: ’”Didn't think classical music was your thing, but hey to each their own I guess- was told it helps focus, but idk.If I had someone playing a violin next to me I'm pretty sure I would have a difficult time focusing”. She had listened to music before meeting you, however much preferred learning pre-war information from long forgotten technology more than listening to it. As such whenever you are both listening she would randomly tell you small random facts about composers such as “.hey, did you know Edvard Grieg had a good-luck figurine. It was a little frog that he would pat before a concert- found that out on an old library achieve. wonder why he thought the frog was so lucky. - hey maybe I'm your lucky charm y/n”. However she wonders why classical music was associated with intelligence at the time since, anyone can listen to the music, so what made it so intellectual, or was it just that the skill it takes to play an instrument made it associated with knowledge.

Ulysses:He collects all pre-war music he can. He enjoys listening to just his surrounding and the silence that would sometimes bring. He also enjoys focusing on music and was surprised by how many classical music recordings he found while travelling. He enjoyed what each song means by its self but also how the music and the meaning behind it still remained even years after their creators and original audiences had died. He did sometimes wonder what message the listeners were supposed to take away however he knows that answer is one of many lost by time. At first he is rather hesitant about even bringing up the subject, due to you're association of destroying the traces of the old world, However through gaining his trust he slowly opens up about it and will let you sit and listen with him.He will sometimes ask you what you think the meaning is or what you think of the song and sometimes comment that he wonder if the creators would imagine someone like him listening to their music, a lone man sitting one the edge of a cliff, watching over the past while protecting the present from the threats of tunnelers and marked men or the significance their music would have on a person. When you join him, you normal listen in silence broken by occasional discussion. Allowing you both you be in your own thought. However even if it is just your presence next to him or you holding his hand or sometimes falling asleep resting against him, he is glad he isn't completely alone and that you understand, even if it is just a little bit, the importance the music is to him.

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myfandomrambles · 4 years

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Adora, Catra & Trauma (Pt3)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 4)

Full Show

An Analysis of the way Catra & Adora are affected by their respective traumatic experiences.

Relationship To Primary Abuser

Catra

Catra bases her identity around Shadow Weaver second only to Adora in power she has over her emotional states. Shadow Weaver abused Catra for essentially her entire life through psychological, emotional, and physical ways. We see her use her magic to immobilize Catra, terrorize her, and physical grab Catra throughout the show.

Starting from a young age she insulted and degraded Catra and said Catra's worth is based on rather Adora wants her. A key quote stated in Promise (1x11 )

Shadow Weaver:“You have never been anything more than a nuisance to me! I've kept you around this long because Adora was fond of you, but if you ever do anything to jeopardize her future, I will dispose of you myself.”

I believe this sets up the main dynamic better than anything.

Catra sees herself as worth nothing to Shadow Weaver, as only existing in relation to Adora and as always under threat. Catra deeply internalized this view of only mattering in how she measures up to Adora but continuously wanted to be more than a nuisance to Shadow Weaver. Catra is constantly pulled when it comes to shadow weaver between wanting love and being afraid, the essence of her disorganised attachment.

Up until Catra gained the right-hand man status to Hordak she was consistently in fear of Shadow Weaver. And afterwards, she didn't stop basing her worth on Shadow Weaver's perceptions.

Starting in season one Shadow Weaver and Catra show a mostly typical older child and abusive parent dynamic. Catra is willing to test boundaries but only so much. In The Sword pt 2 (1x02 ) she says

Catra: “Shadow Weaver is freaking out. It'd be funny if she weren't such a terrible person ”

showing she has accepted and can have humour about the situation. This continues for a while in The Beacon (1x10) we see dissonance all at once saying she doesn’t need Shadow Weaver, seeks her approval, and even tries to offer comfort to Shadow Weaver.

In Light Hope (1x12) we see the first milestone in this dynamic with Catra overtaking Shadow Weaver in the social hierarchy. However, this doesn’t change the fact that Catra still feels a need to be close to Shadow Weaver and to base her value off of her. She continuously goes to talk to Shadow Weaver to try and prove she’s become better but only ends up with Catra subjecting herself to more of Shadow Weaver’s abuse.

In Signals (2x03) she bases what she should be doing off of what Shadow Weaver would have done.

Catra “I bet Shadow Weaver didn’t have to deal with any of this"

After this she goes to Shadow Weaver for the answers. Her stated autonomy isn’t present and we see Catra still seeing Shadow Weaver as the proper adult.

One of the most impactful moments takes place in Light Spinner (2x06). In this episode, we see Catra deeply needs Shadow Weaver to love her and is protective over her mother. We can see Catra’s fear and unresolved attachment needs from her childhood fighting over how she should act. She has spent this season setting and then breaking her boundaries due to deeply wanting to be loved and respected. Catra is easily manipulated by Shadow Weaver’s semi-kind words and some of the only soft-touch she gets [before reuniting with Adora in season 5].

When Catra confronts Shadow Weaver Catra asks the questions every abused kid wants to ask:

"Why was I treated like that?" and "why was I never good enough?"

Shadow Weaver's response is one that is so common and destructive. "I suffered, so I think that’s what you ought to as well," and “You were never as good as your sibling” or in this case Adora.

Catra rejects some of this explanation and then returns another abused child question: "what could I have done? I was just a kid"

Shadow Weaver mostly brushes this question and Shadow Weaver maintains her power by knowing her child so well. Shadow Weaver hits where it hurts, pointing out that she's being made second best and replaced again. She plays on Catra feeling less than and being so scared of being abandoned to get what she wanted, a way out. This breaks Catra's resolve strongly; we see her spiral through hypervigilance, anxiety and depression.

We see how much this affected Catra when Adora’s explained Shadow Weaver went to the bright moon in Once Upon a Time in the Waste (3x03 ). Catra interprets this as Shadow Weaver abandoning her for Adora triggering a dissociative episode and leading into her suicide/homicide attempt.

The next time we see them together is in Failsafe (5x11) . Catra’s immediate reaction to her being there is to move into hyperarousal of fight mode and then into flight and freeze. She is afraid and angry still, but she has finally put up more of a barrier, however, her presence still causes Catra to fear the loss of Adora.

Catra is deeply triggered by the touch of Shadow Weaver and it leaves her in a state of heightened flight response. This experience also brings out her older protective instincts we saw in season 1 and late-season 2 due to the way she knows Adora can get hurt like she’s been hurt by Shadow Weaver. Catra overhears what she thinks is Adora giving into Shadow Weaver setting up the next set of actions in The Heart pt 1&2 (5x12-13) . Causing Catra to leave due to the manipulation she knows she’s experiencing.

When they next meet Catra is fully able to stand up to her stating it was no longer about her, a very strong statement. Even if she is still clearly hurt by the abandonment. Shadow Weaver is willing to help due to complex reasons, wanting to save the world as that’s the “side” she chose, and some degree of responsibility for her daughters even if it's twisted and more about performing and then anything resembling love. Catra is affected by this crying at the loss of her mother. We don’t get to know much about this fallout but it would be as complex as the history of adult children of abusive parents usually are.

Adora

Adora's relationship to Shadow Weaver, her mother and commander, is characterized by manipulation, fear and agitation. Shadow Weaver made her the golden child, the next hero and leader, responsible for others way too early and as an object to be used for power. All of these became the core ideas and schemas that Adora built her life on.

Adora lacked direct physical/magical abuse from Shadow Weaver but experienced a severe psychological and emotional abuse. An example is her being forced to watch and being blamed for the physical/magical abuse of Catra (Promise 1x11) . During their childhood, we see that the abuse worked to internalise the views of shadow weaver which gave Shadow Weaver an intense and continuous force in her life even when not present.

In The Sword pt1 (1x01) we see how Shadow Weaver wanted her to be the next force captain and believed her to be the best of the children she raised. We can tell Adora wanted to be the best having internalized these desires. Adora believed what she was taught wholesale on the ideological front as well and losing that belief when seeing the harm of war causes the first rupture in her connection to Shadow Weaver.

In the Shadows of Mystacor (1x07) has a few key moments. One is Adora admitting Shadow Weaver did “mom stuff” which shows Adora understands Shadow Weaver as her primary attachment figure, ie the mother. Another key moment of this episode is Adora rejecting Shadow Weaver’s control for the first time. She verbally states her autonomy, affirms that the pain is not her fault and that Shadow Weaver shouldn’t get to decide her life. Adora physically fights Shadow Weaver off and protects her new life, something that is one of the most powerful moments in their relationship. This is a rejection of not only her abuser but the life she was taught to want. She is choosing a new healthier life. This is solidified in after the confrontation she allows her friends to support her.

In No Princess Left Behind (1x09) Adora is physically assaulted and violated mentally by her mother figure. This is an attempt to try and bring her back under control. Something we know she has been trying to do this whole time, a very visceral moment of how much Shadow Weaver believed she owned Adora. This is a harsh and traumatic event for Adora.

We don’t see them interact together fully until The Price of Power (3x01). We see Adora be willing to help Shadow Weaver both due to her ingrained responsibility and she doesn’t want to see her mother figure die. Adora also needs to know what’s going on and Adora is scared to not have some control in the situation. This fear of being out of control brings Adora to interact with her abuser.

Adora is also more confident that she won’t be directly manipulated anymore. She has learned most of Shadow Weaver's tactics and isn’t vulnerable enough for them to work. The conversation they have here shows this personal growth Adora has experienced.

Shadow Weaver: “I knew you were different. You were...”

Adora: “- Special? No, what you always told me was that I didn't matter. I was special only as long as I obeyed you.”

However, the conversations between them also break the precarious hold on some sense of self Adora gained over the past through SHadow Weaver revealing she is a first one. This adds self confusion and distances her from others. This is important because her connection to others is the most powerful grounding tool Adra has learned to have.

Throughout this season Adora is continually agitated and stressed about Shadow Weaver being allowed in her safe space of Bright Moon. In Pulse (4x04) we see Adora be upset about Glimmer having asked for magic help from Shadow Weaver. She is understandably afraid of Shadow Weaver’s power and is scared of losing another friend to the damage Shadow Weaver caused. Shadow Weaver is a walking trigger to her childhood trauma leaving her implicit memories of shadow weaver as a figure of pain, magic as bad and both as a threat to friends on continuously.

In Princess Scorpia (4x06) Shadow Weaver continues to cause problems for Adora even when not there as her Black and White thinking on magic and will to keep shadow weaver from having control feed into the relational struggles Adora and Glimmer are having.

In Mer-Mysteries (4x07) we see Adora and Shadow Weaver interact and Adora is sure that Shadow Weaver is the spy and is in deep pain over the fact she believes she is hurting Glimmer. However, we see them take Shadow Weaver’s advice because even Adora can admit Shadow Weaver is great at manipulating others.

We see their next big moments in Failsafe (5x11) Shadow Weaver is willing to use Adora as a tool again, just like she had done her whole life. Shadow Weaver also works hard to break down any sense of autonomy Adora has and her newly healed connection to Catra, someone who would push back on Shadow Weaver in the most knowing way. These acts are harmful and while Adora tries to push back on Shadow Weaver multiple times the painful truth is that Shadow Weaver still has a power over her. While her attempts to use the comfort/assault patterns fail, Adora does need to try and save Etheria so the internal and external objectification continues.

In Heart pt 1 (5x12) we see Adora talking with the mirage of Mara. Mara is trying to get Adora to want to stay alive, to have self-worth, to take her own needs into account and to give herself grace. Adora herself is arguing back that she doesn’t have value on her own, she only matters in how she can be useful to others. Adora’s words echo Shadow Weaver of her having to be She-Ra and that she should be willing to die for it. Adora’s carrying this self-harming objectified view within her and it’s so defining of their dynamic.

This story ends in Shadow Weaver’s death, a complicated moment where Adora is clearly devastated by what happens and was almost helped by Shadow Weaver to be able to use the failsafe. The complications show through in her losing her mother, almost dying herself, and in an abuser doing one nice thing. This moment is complicated visually, narratively and relationally and is a good incapsulation of the lack of resolve abusive relationships with adult children can feel.

[A Word on “redemption” of Shadow Weaver

I don't believe shadow weaver is redeemed or a good person for her sacrifice. I think her reasons were complex but I don't believe she has ever had or a healthy love for her "daughters". I don't think we should consider this worthy of having forgiveness for her actions based on one singular action. Once action doesn't outweigh years of abuse and trauma.]

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badwolfwriter · 4 years

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Finding Malcolm Bright

Ok, so no one knows where the dumbest man alive is. Chances are high that the FBI is going to think Malcolm is working with John instead of having been kidnapped, so the team is going to have to go completely off the books to find Malcolm. Here’re some things that I think are likely to happen, or that I would at least like to see.

1) Gil is going to ask Martin for help: let’s start with the obvious. There’s no one better to help them find John than the guy who mentored him, and Martin does love Malcolm, even if that love is entirely narcissistic. Not to mention I’ve seen mentions of interviews that state Gil and Martin are going to be in the same room soon. The team is going to run out of leads and be forced to ask Martin for help. He’ll give it, of course. He’s going to make them grovel though. Gil is going to have to resist the urge to punch him. I’m sure there’s going to be arguing between them over who is Malcolm’s father (his biological father, or the one who actually fathered him). It’s not going to be good, but Gil is enough of a professional and dedicated enough to finding Malcolm that he’s going to push his fury and disgust aside enough to get the job done.

2) Jessica is going to go bat shit: Jess isn’t perfect, as a person or as a parent, but she does very clearly love her children, and you can bet she’s going to tear the city apart trying to find Malcolm. PI’s, check. Nagging the cops till they block her number, you betcha. Eventually only Gil is going to take her calls, and potentially then only cos Jessica knows where he lives and will show up at his door demanding answers. (Not that Gil is going home till they find Malcolm.) She’s going to react very strongly, and it’s going to be mixed, I think, with tears, anger, desperation, etc. Jessica is a tornado, and good luck to the person who tries to hurt her kids.

3) I can definitely see Jessica going to Martin too. I don’t know if it’s going to be her or Gil who suggests going to him for help, but once the idea is out there for the police to go to him, Jessica is going to take it into her own hands. It may even be the level of groveling Martin wants to cooperate. (I can see him refusing Gil, knowing that Jessica is going to come after him, simply cos he wants to see her beg.) She knows Martin can help, and Martin knows she’s smart enough to figure it out. He’s also definitely upset by her insistence that she’s done with him. What better revenge can he have than making her beg him for help to find their son, by admitting his use, not in spite of his crimes, but because of them. He’s going to try to manipulate his way back into her life, and I can see her agreeing to anything to secure his help in getting Malcolm back. The show has had her insisting she’s done with Martin as he smirks that she’ll be back far too much to not do that. Poor Jessica.

4) I really hope we get to see some good quality Ainsley angst. Not that I want her to suffer, but I think there are a few options for how she handles this. 1, she sits back and lets the police work. I don’t see this as likely, because, well, you’ve all seen her. 2, she uses this as a way to further her career. I don’t see how she can, at least at the moment, and I think she cares too much about Malcolm for that. 3 is the most likely- she tries to use her influence in the media to flush John out of hiding and get any information she can find. (Yes, it’ll probably help her career, and that may or may not be in the back of her mind, but I do believe her motivation will be to find her brother.) I would love to see her and Jessica working together on this. You know Gil won’t be happy, unless it pays off (and even then), because it puts them in danger. John won’t like them moving against him. So they’re going to go on air with a picture of John, and Gil is going to yell at them, and they will both be very unapologetic. (This is one I hope will happen, but I also wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t focus on Ainsley here enough to show what she’s doing. I think Jessica will get more screen time, but the main focus will still be on the team.)

5) I think it’s obvious to state that we’re going to have some angsty scenes with the team. They’re going to be worried. Dani has already made it clear she’s rooting for Malcolm, but this may be a turning point towards her admitting feelings for him, if the show chooses to go in that direction. Edrisa is going to be generally panicked and trying to help. I don’t see her as being good at sneaking around, but she’s sure as hell gonna try cos she knows it’s what Malcolm needs. JT is going to be forced to admit he actually likes Malcolm. Bonus points if they find him close to death and all the angst comes out then. But this is the turning point to the team “tolerating him” to admitting that they all actually like him.

6) I think this is definitely going to be the turning point for Gil and Jessica getting together. I know I’m not alone in shipping them at this point. The show is very obviously pushing them together, and I’m there for it. What better way than to have them freaking out over the boy they both raised and love, working together despite Gil’s attempts to get Jessica to stay home, and trying to comfort each other. Not to mention when they do find Malcolm and he’s inevitably in the hospital for a few days, neither of them is going to leave his side.

7) We all know the FBI is going to start by suspecting Malcolm. I’m hoping by the end they can come to peace with Malcolm, specifically Swanson. Even if they don’t part on particularly friendly terms, I want them to acknowledge that Malcolm isn’t his father, to see him for the victim he is, and to put their support behind him. It’s a TV drama though, so that probably won’t happen. They’ll probably eventually accept that he’s a victim this time, having been kidnapped, but still be suspicious of Malcolm himself. I can see them coming back in a later season if they decide to go in the direction of Malcolm being framed for murder. But I’m hoping Malcolm makes at least a couple new friends in the FBI as people finally come to see that he’s A, not crazy, and B, not a psychopath.

8) Malcolm: we gotta throw some Malcolm angst in here. Boy’s got it rough right now. Even if the team gets to him within a day, which isn’t likely, he’s going to be very traumatized, cos you know the rest of his memories regarding the girl in the box are going to come back, plus the trauma of being kidnapped. He might get tortured, I’m not sure yet what exactly John wants with him. But he’s also going to be forced off his meds cold turkey, and that won’t be good. He’s going to be in rough shape emotionally, mentally, and probably physically. Cos we all know he’s going to fight tooth and nail to escape and stop John, and once hallucinations set in, there’s a chance he might hurt himself without even realizing it. This is going to have long term detrimental impacts on him, which can go a lot of different ways. There could be psychiatric hospitalization in his future, either forced or voluntary. Him having a psychotic break has been foreshadowed enough that we all know it’s going to happen eventually, and him trying to deal with the fallout of this might be the last straw. His going to be reactive, and his PTSD, anxiety, and depression are going to flare big time. There’s a strong chance that he’s going to lose it on a case and be fired as a consultant. He’s going to be dealing with a lot of shit from a lot of people, and unfortunately, a lot of them are only going to see the son and potential accomplice of the Surgeon and Junkyard Killer and not victim he is. You also know that once they find who the girl in the box is, Malcolm is going to want to be a part of the notification process. That’s not likely to go well. So yeah, things aren’t looking good there. However, I think this does have the potential to bring him, Jessica, and Ainsley closer as they’re going to freak out over him. He’s going to get closer with his team, and knowing he has their support is going to be huge for him. Any degree of closure he gets is going to be good too, though the cost it’ll have on his mental health may override that. But yeah. I’m seeing a lot of possibilities for his future, and basically, no matter what direction they take him in, it’s gonna hurt.

9) Back to Ainsley again: while I think this has the potential to bring her and Malcolm closer, it might backfire eventually. Malcolm is going to get massive amounts of attention once they rescue him, and that is something Ainsley is deeply jealous of. She’s going to rebel, and hurt her family, either intentionally or not. This could be the start of her own spiral. I don’t have a clear enough picture of where the writers are taking her character yet to say.

#prodigal son #prodigalson #malcolm bright #malcolm whitly #jessica whitly #ainsley whitly #gil arroyo #jt tarmel #dani powell #edrisa tanaka #colette swanson #martin whitly #angst

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zukkatrash · 4 years

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im pretty sure nobody wants this content but:

aged up, no bending atla x fallout 4 crossover!!!

(spoilers for some atla and fo4 stuff obviously, and in sukis part i rant abt the ending where ur against the brotherhood, so major spoilers for that too)

lets start with katara

katara is a minuteman, no lets be real shes the goddamn general, preston took one look at her and immediately knew she'd protect the people of the commonwealth with all she had

elder maxon is actually scared of her, which is why he refuses to let her on the prydwen so none of his underlings see him fold under her stare

shes probably the first minuteman that hancock like actually truly respects bc he knows shes 100% abt the ppl and goodneighbors motto is literally "of the people for the people"

katara is a probably a bit conflicted about him at first bc u know hes a bit ruthless for her taste, but she can see his heart's in the right place

she definitely helped marcy long with her grief and turned her anger into smth productive, aka marcy is now probably a high ranking minuteman

sokka

def a railroad agent (i read alchemy, sue me)

him and tinker tom are the best buddies and yes sokka got convinced to drink his weird serum thing, stop bringing it up!!

god just the crazy inventions those two would cook up, they'd probs scare the shit out of the institute

on topic of the institute, theres probably like at least one abduction attempt from them a month but hes not only smart but a badass too

hes also one of the only people dr. amari is actually nice to and will routinely rescue him from irmas relentless flirting

he definitely fanboys with kent collony over the shroud

i feel like deacon would drive him mad, because on one hand he gets the secrecy and that he doesn't want anyone to get too close but also deacs, my man u cant shut everyone out with ur lies

okay now im thinking abt them bonding over their dead gfs and am sad

when he meets nick he has to hold back soooo hard to not ask invasive questions, bc nick is basically a walking insight into the institute, but hes alao a person who sokka respects and really doesn't wanna be an ass to

toph

also with the railroad(but shes a heavy ofc), probably mostly bc shed get more action there

sokka and tinker tom def made her some really cool gadget à la seismic sense so shes still a BEAST

she can also hear a raider ambush/lurking wildlife before anyone else and if shes not with anyone who needs to avoid that kinda stuff she pulls out her trusty missile launcher and makes quick work of her enemies

probably participates in cage matches at the combat zone and raiders shit their pants when they see her

toph is either dating glory or cait or both, cant decide, just badass wlw

or maybe fahrenheit 🤔, i mean the only refrence of tophs type we have is that she mightve had a crush on sokka who is not only strong but smart and u cant tell me fahr isnt smart, she might only have like 5 lines but at least one of them is abt chess which is a common shorthand for intelligence and she is undoubtedly a badass so yes toph and fahr! never thought id think of those two as a ship but here we are haha

zuko

is the silver shroud, you can't change my mind he's a righteous theatre kid ofc he's the shroud

suki

also a minute man, probably kataras second in command

shes the one training the minutemen at the castle

danse tried so desperately to recruit her but suki is too smart to fall for the bos' bullshit

probably plays into his whole spiel tho to get an inside look at the bos and takes them down from the inside

and not by blowing the ship up wtf there are kids on the prydwen what the fuck why cant u get them out beforehand??? why is that the only option to get the bos out of the commonwealth???? they steal poor farmers crops ffs i want them gone! WITHOUT killing innocent children that are being indoctrinated what the fuck

aang

im actually having a really hard time to imagine aang in fo4 bc u know its a biiit violent for a pacifist monk but i really dont wanna just make him a farmer or some boring shit, its just that stuff usually needs killing in some way in fo4

okay nvm i can def picture him on the island mediating that whole conflict between arcadia, the children of the atom and far harbor

oh god aang finding out how dima kept the 'peace' would be a brutal fucking scene, i dont wanna spoil too much if possible but aang would def feel really betrayed by dima

i can see aang arriving at the island and really trying to make everyone understand that dima only wants arcadia to be safe and left alone and i have no idea how he would actually deal with dima once the truth comes out but fuuck, bending or not aang def entered the avatar state there

but just to be clear he still protects arcadia, just bc its built by smn who thinks the ends justify the means doesnt mean that synths dont deserve to live in fucking peace for once

also aang would absolutely adore erikson and his puppies ^^

but back to the commonwealth

aang would for sureee advocate against the mind wipes the railroad makes and try to find other ways to help synths

he probs cannot deal with desdemonia saying that erasing the synths memory and identity is the only way to keep them safe, aang knows what loss means and he wont stand for it

and i can see him do a lot of the actual building in the settlements and helping all those small communities to flourish

now for the crack, as in i dont think this is in character but i thought of it so now yall have to read abt it:

the fire nation is in nuka world, also there is no overboss per se bc except for like 3 lines we know nothing of colter

ozai leads the operators, but also kinda everyone, so basically the overboss

post breakdown, pre redemption azula leads the disciples

zhao leads the pack bc like mason hes an animal and i hate him ^^

gage is dead bc unfortunately ozai isnt dumb, altho ozai was dumb enough to underestimate zuko when he literally told him his plan to join the gaang, but then again gage didnt like colter bc he didnt get shit done and unfortunately ozai does get shit done so gage is probably delighted :(

if anyone actually read this and wants to add on pleaseee do!!!

#atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #fallout 4 #fo4 #katara #sokka #toph #zuko #suki #aang #atla x fo4 #crossover #dumb thoughts #i wrote almost all of this either high or at 3 am so please feel free to disagree with me haha #also if anyone does end up reblogging this ill probs dm u like right away bc u like two of my fave franchises enough to understand this pos

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agl03 · 4 years

Note

Can you do a breakdown of everyone few episodes of season 7 like big things you think will happen

Hi Anon,

Not much has changed since I did the big breakdown when we were able to find the ‘leaked’ titles. However, please bear in mind the only two we are 100% confident on are 1 and 13. I’ll repost it here and add anything that might have popped into

1. The New Deal

Aired at D23. Cliffnotes Mack, Robo Coulson, Daisy, and Deke have to save Freddy Malick from being kill by the Chronicoms.

2. Know your Onions

Well this is one of those weird titles that makes little sense. There is a song by The Shins But its also a saying for being very knowledgeable about something. So this is where we’re really going to see Robo Coulson really showing how invaluable to this. Also might speak to the learning curve the team is facing with all the new stuff. Also a good chance we at least get a glimpse of FItz here before he disappears for a bit.

Written By Craig Tiltey AKA the OUT OF THE BOX dude. He’s given us great episodes like 4722 Hours, Uprising, personal fave Hot Potato Soup, Rewind, and SPACE VEGAS!

3. Alien Commies from the Future

Well the Chronicoms take over some Russians or they think they are Russian, people were pretty paranoid back then. And I’ll put the time period they visit here anywhere between the 50′s and 80′s due to the “commies” reference. Good chance we’ll see lots of Military here based on who is already in IMDB. This may also be when we see Enver show up…or two…depends on where they go after saving Freddy. Also trying not to think of Killer Clowns from Outer Space here.

I throw in this could be where we could see Stoner.

Written by the Zuckermans have given us episodes Lockup, Boom, A LIfe Spent, Option Two, Code Yellow, and This Sign. They do have a decent amount of Philinda under their belts so this could be where we see May on a mission with Robo Coulson for the first time.

4. Out of the Past

Well something from someone one the teams past is likely going to come back to haunt them here. And it also might tie into the 1947 movie bearing the same name about a small town gas station that has his life turned upside down when figures from his past return. So they’ll be going for someone who ‘got out” and now is being pulled back in.

This would be the first opening I see for Afterlife and those involved in it to come into play.

Written by Mark Leitner, relatively new to the writing team he did Inside Voices and Toldja.

5. A Trout in the Milk

Guys I swear my google history for this show. Another title based on a saying. The meaning is that although you did not see the dairy farmer do it, he most probably dipped the milk pail in the stream to water down the product. It’s not direct evidence but a very strong circumstantial case.It is attributed as follows: “Some circumstantial evidence is very strong, as when you find a trout in the milk. ‘ (Henry David Thoreau)

So the team will have strong evidence on something but can’t be 100% on it. This could speak to who they feel the Chronicoms are after, if there is a traitor in their midst (its an annual tradition after all), or this could be where something could be wrong with Fitz and Jemma is starting to worry more/pick up on it.

Written by Iden Baghadadchi also relatively new she’s done Rise and Shine aka Hale’s Back story and squee inducing we are invincible and Collision Course Part II.

6. Adapt or Die

Raise your hand if this SCREAMS when we are gonna see Ward/Hydra again! Because he said that a few times when he was discussing why he followed Hydra. I just have no idea WHAT Ward we are dealing with…preturn Ward, Hydra Head Ward, Squidward (yay I got to use it again).

If not Ward someone has to adjust to the new situation and fast in order to survive. This could speak to someone being captured, gone under cover, or something out of left Field. Knowing who the writer is…could me buckle up for some Fitzsimmons feels people.

If it is heavy Fitzsimmons, this could be the where we learn more about “we had time” and possibly the Secret Child Theory gets some legs. Adapt or Die could also speak to Fitzsimmons having to drastically change their lives in order to survive and move forward saving the others and the world.

Written by DJ Doyle…and a favorite with Fitzsimmons fans as he has given us some of the most iconic Fitzsimmons moments. Past credits include The Things We Bury, Melinda, Purpose in the Machine, Many Heads on Tale, The Team, Deals with Our Devils, INESCAPABLE!!!!!Also worth pointing out the sixth episode of each season has a history of being big FItzsimmons Episodes.

7. The Totally Excellent Adventures of Mack and the D

OMG are we getting a Bill and Ted esque Mack and Deke Team up. EEEEEEEEE!!!!! I do believe this is where we are going to get “The closest thing to a Musical Episode the show will ever do” and Deke in the Red Leather pants Chloe talked about.

Bring on the 80′s/90′s nostalgia folks. I don’t even care what is happening this one is gonna be awesome. Also considering the writer we need to be on the lookout for a FItznapping….this is the dude who has written most of them.

Written by Brent Fletcher who has done some major major episodes. The Dirty Half Dozen, Closure, Broken Promises, Farewell Cruel World (IE thank goodness we are FINALLY out of the Framework), FUN & GAMES, Space Vegas, and New Life.

8. After Before

I wanna lean flashback here and this could be another option where we get some answers from Jemma as to what happened during “we had time” and the fallout from that. It could also speak to a comparison or a change in someone, a play on a “Before and After” King of Reveal. Once again the writers lean towards something happening on the FItzsimmons front as they are the other resident Married couple with Jed/Mo on the writing team.

Also worth noting this is the first episode that Enver is in IMDB in so they’ll need to go back in time to meet up with him and I think they’ll find him at a point well after Agent Carter had ended. Meaning there could be some critical early days of Shield backstory here as well.

Written by James and Sharla Oliver they’ve done Paradise Lost, The Patriot, The Honeymoon.

9. As I have Always Been

Episode LIL Directed…YAY!

Clark said this was one of his favorites of the season.

Lil directing means Jemma will be light in both it and 8.

This screams something to do with Enoch to me (like i hear him saying it when i read it), its pretty much what he said to Fitz before he gassed him. In the trailer we see Enoch seemingly getting left behind as the the Zephyr Jumps away, stranding him in time. It also means if we lose sight of him for a bit we might need to be concerned about him getting co opted by the evil Chronicoms and used against the team. It should also be said that Enoch was on the planet for centuries, it could be only a matter of time before they come across his past self.

I feel this could also speak to Robo Coulson doing some soul searching about who he is now and coming to terms with the whole LMD thing.

Written by Drew Greenberg, another one of the long time heavy hitters. Dirty Half Dozen, Who you Really Are, Absolution, Wake Up, All the Comforts of Home, and Leap.

10. Stolen

Well this screams someone getting kidnapped and/or having their memories messed with. It could also speak to an item stolen or stolen time. This is the point where we really could see Fitz coming back into the mix more. This is also the point in the Season where everything typically starts to go to poop and the team suffers a major loss.

Targets for kidnapping for me are Robo Coulson as he’s what Shield has been using to keep ahead of the Chronicoms. Fitz because well it’s Fitz and he’s in hiding for a reason. Enoch to be used against the team.

Also worth noting this is the last episode that Enver is listed in IMDB for.

Written by Mark Leitner who is completely new to the writing team. However vet George Kitson (yes the one they named Kitson after) did the screenplay.

11. Brand New Day

So I think that just like in Season 6, Episode 10′s Stolen is going to be a real kick in the teeth to the team. In Leap they lost Davis, Piper shot her had, Sarge’s true self really got released, Izel escaped with the “monoliths”, and Mack and Elena were kidnapped. Out of the Ashes was the team picking themselves back up and starting to fight back.

Brand New Day also represents new beginnings and a fresh start. So after suffering a major loss in 10, they are gong to pick themselves up, regroup, and fight back. But this all but confirms someone is getting kidnapped in 10 for me….looking at Robo Coulson and Fitz still.

Written by Christopher Fryer he’s another new writer but based on IMDB has been on the production team for a bit.

12. The End is at Hand

Yeah that is not ominous at all. And just like The Sign this season hold onto your hats because its going to be a major run up to the end. I’m fully expecting a two hour series finale event.

The Chronicoms and if a new baddie is in the mix will have their plan in full motion (I fell like the we need to save this point in history kind of thing will be abandoned in favor of something bigger and scarier), the team will be scattered, some could be prisoners, and my stress level will be through the roof.

Expect it to end on an insane note just as The Sign did (with May being killed).

Written by Jeff Bell. As doom and gloom and generally no fun he can be in interviews he has given us some amazing/huge episodes and his last one shouldn’t be any exception. It may be worth nothing he has a knack for putting Fitz/Fitzsimmons in danger. Previous credits include 084, Ragtag, What They Become, SOS 1, Maveth, Good Samaritan, World’s End, Real Deal, and Collision Course Part 1.

13. WHAT WE’RE FIGHTING FOR

Pause for screaming with @eclecticmuses because this THIS is what we wanted from that first tease!

It’s the PERFECT title for a final episode and all cards are going to be on the table here. I feel like not only will the team be fighting to save the world as usual but every single one of them is going to have a more personal stake in the game.

They are literally going to be fighting for THEIR futures as well. Perhaps even their Past, Presents, and Futures depending on horrible plan they are trying to stop.

There is only one I am willing to theorize on right now because I don’t know what character arcs are coming and how things could change over the season for a lot of the characters. FItzsimmons. They are going to be fighting for their future, their family, their happily ever after. Come on Secret Kid Theory!

This is going to be action packed, major fight scenes, emotional as all get out as 7 seasons come to a close. Their will be wins, their will be losses. Mack is going to give an epic speech before he falls (sorry still don’t think he makes it) and Daisy will rally the team after he does.

Piper is back!

Written by Jed who has had his hand in every episode and penned some of the biggest ones.

#aos spoilers #aos speculation #ask agl03 #all the titles #maybe

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pidgetyy · 4 years

Photo

My application for The Underpass, a roleplay hosted by @fireflythenightlight (and which I found through my dear friend @validwofjobs). Legacy is a mostly-human, slightly-pheonix girl who loves planning ahead, making new friends, and her two identical pet giant geckos, Lychee the pet leachie and Guinep the familiar leachie-salamander. The rest about her can be found in these incoming walls of text under the cut!

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Backstory-

Legacy grew up with an older and younger sister, the treasured “only son” of her parents, especially her father. Her name, before she realized she wasn’t a boy and chose a new name for herself, was Terrence. Her family lived in an apartment above a pet reptile store, run by her father. She got her familiar, Guinep, as well as her beloved pet, Lychee, when she was 8. She bonded with Guinep especially as her familiar, but the identical Lychee received plenty of love too, and in the first few years she had trouble telling apart the identical and closely bonded New Caledonian Giant Geckos by anything other than their temperament- Guinep was very calm, but Lychee tended to be a lot more snappish. Lychee followed Guinep’s lead in warming up to Legacy quickly, but remains a little aggressive towards strangers.

Legacy was almost 15 when she finally admitted to herself that she didn’t think she was really a boy, after two years of suppressing and refusing to believe her own feelings. She began to grow her hair out, and stared longingly at the girl’s section of stores, but didn’t dare to expose her identity to her parents, whose reactions she couldn’t predict in the slightest. After about a year and a half of planning and psyching herself up, she finally had the guts to come out to her parents. The fallout didn’t come to the extremes she’d read many a horror story of online, of physical abuse or conversion therapy, but her parents still refused to acknowledge her preferred pronouns or name, and began to threaten homeschooling her, to keep “their only son” away from “the influence of those queer friends of yours.” She refused to be homeschooled, and her parents responded that, if she insisted on this, then they wouldn’t be paying college tuition for a daughter they didn’t have. Upset to say the least, she haphazardly packed the belongings she thought of first and could fit in her backpack, and left. It was the largest decision she had made in her life, and it was completely unplanned.

Her grandma on her mother’s side lived in a small house halfway across the city, and Legacy hoped her parents hadn’t shared the news with her about her identity, because she couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. It came as a surprise not that her grandmother knew, but she actually accepted Legacy, scoffing and asking her to “give me your real name, girl” when she introduced herself grudgingly as Terrence. For the next few months, she lived there happily, upset about some of the belongings she had forgotten to bring but definitely not willing to go back to her parents, who didn’t bother to come find her (after her grandmother had sternly told them over the phone not to come unless they were going to treat their daughter right). Her grandmother bought her real girl’s clothes, and even helped her dye her hair a bright shade of bubblegum pink she’d had her eyes on for months. She finished highschool a semester early, something she had already been planning to do since before coming out. Her grandmother, unfortunately, was starting to decline in her old age. She was in stage 4 of Alzheimer’s disease, beginning to get to stage 5, when she was finally deemed no longer able to care for herself and was placed in an elderly person’s home to be cared for. By that summer, Legacy was back on the streets, preferring them against going back to her parents.

She took a job as the sole member of the “Maintenance Crew” of a cafe/coffee shop in a slightly busier part of the city in order to pay for her own living necessities and her leachie’s. From age 17 to the start of rp, Legacy worked there, cleaning up spills, keeping tabs of what sanitary supplies needed restocking, and keeping the rest of the shop sanitary. She made use of the keys she had to the shop, coming in before dawn, and definitely before opening hours, to clean the shop and then to clean herself, and fix her hair to look presentable. On particularly cold nights, she would spend the night there, more to keep her beloved pets warm than for any other reason. Though her high body temperature was usually enough to keep herself and the leachies warm, she didn’t want to risk any of them getting sick on especially stormy or windy winter nights. Most nights, she would instead find a friend happy to lend a couch for the night, or a fellow homeless person she trusted enough to watch her back while she slept next to, for safety reasons.

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Personality-

Legacy is a generally cautious and consistent person. She sticks to her daily routine and her plans rather than acting spontaneously without thought. Unexpected changes and surprises are strongly disliked, because she hates being unprepared for something and sometimes has trouble dealing with surprise changes to her own plans because of that. Besides not being a big fan of practical jokes, she tries not to act outwardly uptight or prissy in social situations, even if her careful organization, tidiness and plans may make her seem like it. Most people wouldn’t pinpoint her as a homeless kid if they saw her, because she dedicates a considerable amount of time and money to making herself look very clean and neat. Half of the backpack she wears is filled with two other outfits, which she mixes-and-matches often. When she feels like a fashion change is in order, she’ll donate some clothes and buy new replacements for them at a local clothing exchange store.

Her careful and well-put-together nature stems from a deep fear of making mistakes. Legacy hates the thought that she might make some mistake, do something wrong that could ruin her life as it is now, or change it beyond recognition (even if the change was for the better). So instead, she chooses inactivity. Though she could probably find a permanent place to live if she got a second job and saved carefully, she doesn’t, and instead spends most of her paycheck on unnecessary things like new clothes when she no longer needs it to buy food and water for her and her pets. She waited and planned for over a year to come out to her parents, and it still didn’t end well, so now she just tries to avoid taking any risks like that again (besides hiding her gender- she’s definitely done doing that. She presents as female and uses her real, chosen name. Most people don’t even realize she wasn’t born a girl). Legacy prefers to be a follower in social situations, rather than a leader. That way, she’s less likely to take the brunt of the consequences if a wrong decision is made. Safer. She prefers being safe, and right now her routine and life is safe and predictable, so she doesn’t see a need to change it or plan to end up anywhere else in her life.

Her caution about life decisions and other areas doesn’t quite extend to the social side of her life, however. Legacy’s a people person and a definite extrovert. She likes to surround herself with new friends at any chance she gets, and has a great memory for faces and personal details. Since middle school, she hasn’t forgotten a friend’s birthday or favorite color. Stranger’s opinions generally don’t have the power to change your whole life around, so with that low-risk assessment of friendship Legacy goes at making friends with a sort of wild abandon. Her charisma isn’t exactly impressive, but that doesn’t matter when she can just walk away and try again with someone else if the first person doesn’t seem to like her all that much. Even though she could listen to details about a person she barely knows for hours, and loves to learn new details about anyone, she’s dismissive of people’s opinions, especially if they’re about her. Few people have ever managed to become such an ingrained part of Legacy’s life as to earn the title of “Friend I actually care about and will make an effort not to lose.” Legacy shows up at many a party, flitting between groups for a while usually before finding someone she likes enough to hang out with for the rest of the night or couch-crash with, but refuses to get any farther than slightly tipsy even if the drinks are free. Being drunk is far too risky a thing for her to ever have attempted, even as tempting as it sometimes was. Party-going and friend-making are a few items on the short list of things she rarely, if ever, plans for.

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Extra Facts™-

-She is, by a small percentage, a Phoenix hybrid (1/8th, or 12.5 percent to be precise) by her great-grandmother on her mother’s mother’s side. She doesn’t have the identifying wings because of her lack of more phoenix-hybrid ancestors, but does have the noticeably higher body temperature and small flame-producing ability. She doesn’t have a ton of control over the flames, and they’re likely to appear, purposefully or not, when she’s feeling strong emotions.

-her favorite color is, by far, pink. Second is light green.

-Partially because of favorite-color influence, partially because of its sweet flavor, her favorite food is watermelon.

-She isn’t a vegetarian, but she generally doesn’t like meat very much.

-She wishes she had the spare money to afford an instrument. Legacy used to play the flute in her middle school band, and loved it, but she left it behind in her parent’s house.

-Lawful neutral

-She’s a Libra (her birthday is September 28th)

#the underpass #underpass rp #underpass application #original rp #original story

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boarix · 4 years

Text

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XVIII

Lighthouse

Trigger warnings: canon violence/language/gun, alcohol and drug use. Mature/sexual content - not explicit

Bloody Mess warning!

Please Enjoy!

Marie stood in the doorway, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. After about five minutes or so, she began tapping her foot in a staccato of irritation, “Did you want something or not? I’m very busy.”

Atom’s Assassin didn’t bother to turn around, “You are massing in Crater House, yes? We had agreed to wait.”

“My followers are impatient.” Despite not having been invited, she briskly walked around the chair the ghoul was lounging in to fold her arms and glare down at them, “This is taking too long. You are taking too long.”

Infamy’s leader was toying with their favorite weapon: a combat knife with a serrated, wicked-looking blade. Flipping it around the back of their hand and thumb with remarkable speed, they locked eyes with her, “You have no followers. Those with you follow Atom. Atom rewards patience.”

“Yes, well, while you sit here and patiently wait for this church’s roof to cave in, my followers and I will take back Kingsport Lighthouse!”

“You will be annihilated.”

Anger caused her to react without thinking; swatting the knife out of the ghoul’s hand and sending it spinning to a dark corner. In the space of a heartbeat the ghoul was out of their chair and lashing out with a backhand that sent the young woman crashing to the floor.

“You will bring those Children back to this church. You will all wait.”

As the glowing one moved to retrieve the knife, their radiance illuminated the room which revealed a large number of ferals, standing perfectly still, in arcing rows around the chair. Marie hadn’t even noticed their presence and felt the whole thing to be incredibly unnerving.

“But, what are we waiting for?!”

Turning, the ghoul went to the doorway just as an Infamy runner stepped through. There was a brief, whispered conversation before Atom’s Assassin turned back to her.

Cackling madly, they brandished their knife and spun in a circle, “They are here! Ahahaa!”

“Who? What’s happening?!”

The mad ghoul roughly pulled Marie to her feet and shook her, “It won’t be long now; the Pretender’s doom has arrived in the Commonwealth!”

“Did you make those pants?”

Shaun looked up from the workbench, “Yeah why, are they weird?”

“No, I like the color. Green is a good color on you. They look like they fit nice…”

He favored her with an indulgent smile, “Grandma, do you want me to make you a pair of green slacks?”

“Oh ho, not pants but slacks?” Her smile broadened when he rolled his eyes, “Yes, please make me a pair of slacks.”

“Are you coming back home after ghoul training?”

Wraith didn’t answer at first. She wanted to but since she had no idea how long learning to influence feral ghouls would take, let alone if she was even capable, she didn’t want to make promises she couldn’t keep.

She had intended the past week to be a vacation of sorts, but found herself elbow deep in reports and meetings instead. In addition to the seemingly random attacks, Infamy had taken to raising radiation levels in some of the southern settlements.

She also spent as much time as possible with Danse; helping Curie with his rehab and his occasional skips in memory. Now, with it being her last day, she was spending it with Shaun and found that she really didn’t want to leave at all.

“Oh, honey… I don’t know… There are too many variables to give you a definitive answer.”

“You’re using lawyer-general speak again,” He stuck his lip out and nodded, “I could go with you…”

“No. Absolutely not.”

His caramel complexion couldn’t hide his flush, “Why not. Is it because I couldn’t defeat Infamy? Do you think that I’ll be a burden?” He had balled up his fists, “I know I screwed that up but…”

“I don’t find you to be burdensome. You didn’t screw anything up! I need you to stay and help Mac…”

“That’s brahmin shit! That’s what YOU TELL LITTLE KIDS WHEN THEY WANT TO HELP YOU BUT YOU THINK THEY’LL BE IN THE WAY!” When Wraith didn’t cut him off and start yelling back he lost some of his momentum, “I’m sorry I let Danse and RJ get hurt!”

“You three were a team. Not one of you failed to fulfill… ugh… Okay, no more lawyer speak.” She got up from her stool, “I can’t lose you. And it’s not just you! I’m keeping Mac, Danse… I’m being completely selfish, I know… If I can keep all you strong fighters together, you will be able to keep each other safe, when I’m… gone.”

“Are you going to let the Valentines leave?” Her honesty had taken the wind out of his anger, “I’m surprised you let Grandpa John go.”

She furrowed her brow, “For the last time; I’m not a tyrant! I’m not going to hold innocent people against their will! I want them to stay and I already made my case, plus Curie wants to study Ellie’s pregnancy… wait… Grandpa John?”

Shaun’s blush deepened, “Cause you two… you know… he asked you to marry him. What the heck am I supposed to call him?!”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. Are you going to start calling Mac ‘grandpa’ too?”

“No, that’s weird.”

She nodded after a couple seconds of rapid blinking, “Okay, I guess that tracks.”

MacCready opened the door and stuck his head through, “Hey guys, Danse, Curie, the Valentines and dinner are here so stop yelling at each other and come in the house.”

“Technically speaking, RJ, the workshop is still in the house.”

“Who’s ‘Dinner’, they sound nice.”

MacCready sighed and slumped his shoulders, “Hilarious. You two done?”

“Did Dinner walk here on their own?”

Shaun started giggling, “How many legs do they have?”

Dinner was very nice and the conversation pleasant. Although space was limited the group squeezed together amicably and Valentine, a wonderful story teller, was regaling them with child-friendly versions of the behemoth and alien artifact cases.

“… climb the whole way up with me tied to her back! Of course, I told her she’d do just as well building castles in the air…”

“Mr. Colonel Garvey Minuteman has a castle! He said that grandma Wraith fought a monster there this one time and it was really big!” Duncan threw his arms out wide, knocking his cup off the table. His father neatly caught it however, and not even a drop was spilt. His excitement turned to dismay at the near loss of juice and he hung his head, “Sorry, daddy.”

MacCready tousled his hair, “Don’t be sad, Dunk. Spilt drink never hurt anybody; just work on your aim.”

“I still say I could’ve pulled us up and out with no problem.”

Valentine smiled and shook his head at her, “You are aware of a distinction between could and should.”

Wraith stuck her lip out in much the same way Shaun had, “You never know unless you try.”

“I tried cheese today!” Duncan’s confidence had returned.

Danse grimaced, “You’re a braver man than I. The smell reminds me of the training mats in the Citadel…”

As Valentine finished his tale, with he the unfortunate ending of Imogene, Curie leaned slightly forward and her eyes tracked his mouth with a hungry intensity.

“And this alien artifact, where has it gone?”

“Well… I’m not sure, actually. I was in and out at the time.”

“It’s put away.” There was a warning edge to Wraith’s voice. “I’d have destroyed it if I could.”

“Oh, but why? Surly this item would be of great use, not only to the scientific community, but to the studies of medical…”

“No!” Wraith gentled her tone, “No, Baby Bird. It is evil and cannot be used for anything but.”

“It’s like the One Ring!” Shaun deliberately directed his comment at MacCready.

“Oh, jeez. Not you too! I’m surrounded by nerds.”

“What’s this now?”

“Oh, Danse, it’s from this great book grandpa John let me borrow. You hav’ta read it!”

MacCready smirked, “Yeah, just when you’re finally starting to feel better…”

Shaun took the snide remark rather personally and so his retort had real venom, “You’re face looks better, now that you shaved that beard!”

Danse’s eyes snapped up to lock with the sniper’s, “You grew a beard? A full beard?”

“Yeah, so what?” His shrug was meant to be nonchalant.

Danse expression was unreadable, “Nothing, just surprised.”

“You’re surprised that I grew a beard? I’ve had a goatee…”

“Surprised that you’re physically capable of growing more than those rat whiskers you normally sport.”

Normally such banter would quickly degrade into actual bickering, but after giving Danse the One Finger Salute, (making sure Duncan didn’t see) MacCready laughed and flashed a bright smile.

After dinner, the group settled in to play cards: the children, Danse and MacCready playing Go Fish while the other four grown-ups indulged in Euchre. After a couple of hands, Wraith began making a conscious effort to memorize the evening. She planned on using bright-spot memories like these to battle against future bouts of her berserker rage.

Acknowledging her addiction to Buffout was only a small step in combating her tendency to slide toward madness. She had publicly denied, on more than one occasion, that she was a tyrannical monster but didn’t want to fall into the trap of declaring yourself a savor to the people whose house you’re burning.

“I’m sorry I scolded you, Curie.” Wraith had followed Danse and Curie out the door and across the yard. Watching Danse use a cane made her feel all the more guilty over the decision to keep the artifact’s location secret. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like you’re a kid…”

“Ah, Madame, please don’t worry about it. Forgive me for saying so, but I feel you have been treating me as your daughter since almost the first time we met.” She arched her arms out to mimic her Miss. Nanny silhouette, “Even when I was just a metal egg.”

Wraith chuckled, “Well I guess it’s reassuring to know that I have at least some maternal instinct.” She took her by the shoulders, “I know why you would want to study it. I don’t blame you but… it has a way of… pulling at you. Shaun’s analogy wasn’t that far off.”

“I… understand. I was only, so excited! Here was a thing from another world! A… a science beyond the capabilities of the one I am only barely familiar with. One with an almost unlimited capacity for healing…” She looked at the clinic door that Danse had just struggled to open, “He gets lost in his memories and he’s still, so very thin…”

“Time, Baby Bird. With you caring for him, maybe not as much as you think.”

“It was a group effort that saved mon amour. Even Monsieur MacCready, with his Beard of Solidarity…”

“His… what?”

She laughed, “Danse had told me a story of how, when a member of your unit is badly damaged, so that they cannot shave their chins, the rest of the group stops this as well. This is done regardless of the team member’s gender, of course. Those who cannot grow a beard will sometimes shave their head… the focus on hair in this instance is rather fascinating, don’t you agree?”

Wraith felt a surge of pride in MacCready, “He takes such care with his goatee. They bicker so much I had no idea that they were that close.”

“Perhaps it is like siblings, oui?”

“How did Mac find out about the hair thing?”

“He came to me and asked what he could do. For some reason telling him the story that mon ours told me made me feel a little better. And when I saw that he was honoring him this way, why, I felt… I’m not sure how to put it…” Curie’s face lit up, “Robert is a protector, and this act was very much him shielding and bolstering my resolve. Which, is what I believe, it is meant to do.”

She could feel the heat of climax pooling below her navel even as MacCready began to shake beneath her. Bearing down as he thrust upward, the breath was driven from them both each time their hips came together.

Their lovemaking would appear a desperate, clinging act; exciting and needful as their first. Yet, it was practiced and refined with each moving in concert toward and against the other. They fought to hush their moans and gasps of pleasure, as to not disturb the sleeping household.

The realization that they might finish together heightened the anticipation of release and Wraith couldn’t stop her cry of passion at the mere thought.

Pushing himself to an almost seated position, MacCready attempted to silence both their cries by kissing her fiercely. Head swimming, he came almost as soon as he felt her muscles contract, somehow maintaining enough control to last until she finished.

Collapsing back to the bed, he kept his arms around her, holding her to him to feel that wonderful sensation of oneness that was almost better than the orgasm.

Almost.

“Shit, Wraith… That was amazing!”

“Ah ah ah, potty mouth. You’re lucky Hancock isn’t here to punish you. Not that you’d mind.”

“Not that I’d mind.”

Wraith nuzzled his chest, “I wish the three of us could be together more. Not that I mind havin’ a bedfellow at every port…”

“Every port?!” He raised his pitch in mock indignity, “Are you sleeping with jabber-jaw?”

She pushed him playfully as she rolled away, “That’s not nice!”

“Ha ha! Doesn’t change to fact that you knew who I meant!”

“I’m gonna tell Piper on you!”

After a bit of cleanup, a check on the children and MacCready settled in her arms, Wraith let her perpetual exhaustion take hold and settled into a light doze. She entered a dream almost immediately.

The cave was dark and full of the echoes of dripping water. At first random and natural, it swiftly changed to a rhythmic percussion.

Voices. No longer was it mere water. A multitude of vaguely familiar voices, chanting her name.

“Wraith! Wraith! Wraith! WRAITH!”

Then, like smaller streams coming together to form a great river, the cries became a defining torrent.

“WRAITH! WRAITH!”

It was cold! And the voices swirled around and through her. She desperately tried to ask them what they needed but when she opened her mouth, their chant poured forth.

“WRAITH! WRAITH! WRAITH!”

Then, with a flash of light, the voices ceased. The darkness returned, this time heavy and oppressively hot. There was a sizzling noise, like a burning fuse. The outline of a figure materialized from the inky black.

“Pippa…” Deacon lifted his face; glasses gone, his eyes shone, as if from within, “Pippa please…”

“Yes! Tell me! Anything. I’ll give you anything! Please, tell me what…”

“Please…” The light from his eyes spread until his whole body glowed.

“DEACON!”

“Please, don’t; you’re killing us.”

The following morning dawned grey and the clouds in the east were leaden with the promise of rain. Wraith didn’t want announce her departure to anyone who may be watching and so planned to use the settlements back, secret door. She had extended a tunnel she found in the basement of one of the original houses, so that it led further into the hills north of Sanctuary. Doubling as Bear’s tannery, it was rarely used by the community due to the odor and its true purpose known by only a select few. After saying her final goodbyes in the kitchen, Wraith, dressed as a male settler, left by the office door and walked briskly to the last northern house on the left.

“I still say this is crazy,” Bear’s deep, rasping baritone rolled like thunder from a dark corner, “like something from Astoundingly Awesome Stories.”

“It’s ‘Tales’, Bear. I thought you were just going to drop off my kit, whatcha need?”

“I never gave ya yer present. Catch!”

Wraith easily caught the object the large ghoul tossed to her. Turning it over in her hands, she gasped in appreciation of the artistry: using the pale hide of the albino deathclaw she had slain on her way to D.C, he had created a helmet in the likeness of her defeated foe. There were a pair of horns, beautifully intricate scales and a visor sporting a pair of faux eyes outlined in blackened steel.

“Oh, Bear! This is the coolest thing I think I’ve ever seen! It’s so light!”

“Light in weight but super heavy-duty, thanks in part to the ballistic weave. There’s some in the suit too.”

“You made a whole suit?!”

“Yeah, I wanna see you in it before you leave. I couldn’t do a final fitting cause it was a surprise, so haveta make sure it fits ya.”

It fit perfectly, of course. It came in four pieces: a vest, jacket, pants and over-the-knee boots. And it wore exactly like her modified wet suit; allowing her a range of motion as if she wore nothing at all.

“I suppose it’s fine.” Bear’s overly critical eye scanned her from toe to crown, “Ya lost weight again.”

“Tch. It’s your imagination. This is so awesome!”

“One more thing,” Not wanting to risk injury, he passed her a wrapped bundle. “I found this in the armory. It was a little bit beat up so I replaced the fittings for ya.”

When Wraith returned the stolen egg to a distraught deathclaw parent, she had found a gauntlet festooned with the sharp, blade-like claws of a deathclaw near the nest. Picking it up, she considered it a consolation prize, but had never once used it. Now, she slipped it over her hand and struck a dramatic fighting pose.

“How do I look?”

“Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. Start calling you General Deathclaw.”

“Ugh, don’t I have enough nicknames?” She embraced him carefully.

“There’s throwing knife pockets throughout, even in the boots, a belt with clips and compartments for extra storage and the jacket should fit over your shoulder holster… are you wearing it out?”

“I sure am! This is perfect; I’ve used Phil the Settler too many times anyway. And if anyone should happen to see me, they’ll probably think I’m a raider boss.”

“Well, I’m happy if yer happy, Wolf.”

The midmorning rain beaded on the armor and rolled into the channels that Bear had strategically crafted; wicking the water away from her eyes and face. She had greatly lamented the loss of her original custom Marine helmet to the ruin of Gunner Plaza, but found that the range of peripheral vision in this new one to be far superior then even its replacement. With the horror of the previous night’s dream forgotten and delighted by the sense of freedom, she flew through the bush unimpeded by the weather and almost completely invisible to any of the Wasteland’s people or fauna.

Just as the warehouse and fence of Wicked Shipping came into view, she felt an odd prickling sensation and instinctively dodged to her left.

A trio of feral ghouls rose from the underbrush.

“Well, Zen time’s cancelled.” She crouched slightly and waited for them to rush her.

“Not to worry, General,” The echoing and otherworldly voice belonged to a glowing one. Dressed in the humble robes of the Children of Atom, he beckoned to her from the shop roof, “come along inside, sister. They surely will not harm their friend.”

Harkness yawned and waved at her by way of greeting. He was sitting in an office chair with his feet up on the desk of one of the former Flynn brothers. “Those are some fancy duds there, General Dragon-Lady.”

She removed the helm and wrinkled her nose at him, “Nice. You two just get here?”

“Nope.” Groaning, he stood, stretched and removed a pot of steaming water from a hotplate, “We headed out from Goodneighbor as soon as I got back. Sun called ferals to him the entire way; it was pretty surreal.” He waved a mug at her, “Tea?”

“Actually, yes, thanks.” She accepted the mug and idly played with the steeper. “You said he called to them?”

“Not very many and not out loud. He says that when you’re done, he will lead them to the Glowing Sea.”

“Like a Pied Piper, huh?”

“I actually think I know that reference.”

“As do I. And I approve.”

Sun of Atom swept into the room with a floating grace that left Wraith green with envy. Almost immediately the prickling sensation returned and she outwardly flinched away from the ghoul.

“Apologies, Mother’s Chosen One; I’ll turn down my intensity.” He smiled warmly at her, “It is extremely gratifying to learn that you are so receptive. Perhaps this training will go swiftly and we each can return to our chosen paths.”

She forced a smile of her own, “I’ll bank on your optimism, but please refrain from using that title,” The forced grin had started to make her cheek twitch, “if you must be formal, please call me General Wraith. Although, I’d prefer you refer to me as…”

“Wraith the Undying?” Harkness had a stole-the-last-cookie grin, “Or maybe, Death in the Shadow?”

Determined not to let him nettle her, she continued as if he hadn’t spoke, “as Wraith. Just ‘Wraith’ is perfect. How may I call you?”

“You may use ‘brother’ or ‘Sun’ as you are comfortable, sister Wraith.” He accepted a mug from Harkness, “Will you be leaving us, brother? I know you are resistant to rads, but it may yet be too dangerous for you to stay.”

“Oh no. I’m not going anywhere. I haven’t finished fixing the fencing and besides I’m going to stay and make sure things don’t get out of hand.”

The ghoul laughed, “I am well practiced, and I can assure you that no harm will come to your friend.”

He leveled a stern gaze at Wraith, “I’m not worried about you harming anyone, Sunny.”

She wanted to argue, but considering their past encounter, felt she couldn’t blame him. Her guilt must have made a clear mark on her face because Harkness’s softened almost immediately and he brought a hand up and rubbed the back of his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m really tired and it’s made me a grouch. Are you two going to start right away? I kind of wanted to watch.”

“I’m afraid there won’t be much to see until the fence is done. I’m holding them here for now but as soon as I let go they’ll either attack or wander off.”

“What about the glowing one in the warehouse?”

“She’s pushed me away every time I’ve asked her. She is very strong and I may be unable to hold her.”

“Was she here already?”

Harkness frowned and shook his head at her, “She came yesterday; just sort of appeared in the yard outside. We left the warehouse doors open and she went in by herself.”

“I believe she heard me and was curious. And now I am feeling that she’s waiting for something.”

Harkness washed his face with his hands, “That sounds really ominous.” Letting his hands fall to his sides, he shook his head to crack his neck, “I guess I’ll go finish up the fence.”

“It’s still raining…”

“The wet fence, then.”

Wraith frowned at his back, “How many ferals are out there?”

Sun crouched over a pack in the corner and began rummaging through it, “I managed to call twelve on the way here…”

“And Our Lady of Perpetual Radiance makes thirteen.” Harkness’s shoulders sagged as he stepped out into the drizzle.

“Lucky thirteen.”

Having found what he was looking for, the ghoul waved Wraith over to him, “We can use this to sit on…” He spread a woven, padded mat on the floor, not unlike a picnic blanket, “no sense in being uncomfortable, any more than we have to.” In one fluid movement, he descended to a seated, cross-legged position and motion for her to sit across from him.

Wraith set her jacket over the back of the chair and removed her boots before joining him. “It’s been a while since I’ve meditated. Over two hundred years, in fact.”

Probably something that would have helped me. I could teach Shaun and we could make mats!

“I think that you will find this to be a very similar practice.” He looked into her eyes, his omnipresent smile warm and disarming, “Why don’t we start with your overall impression of feral ghouls. What was your first reaction?”

She frowned, “Unfortunately the first ferals I came across were some of my neighbors from before… Ms. Rosa and… and her son. They rushed me and… well… I honestly didn’t know it was them until after. Her dress… I recognized her dress.”

“I’m sure, at the time, you had no alternative.”

“I didn’t understand what they were at first. And now; as much as folks think they’re mindless… sometimes I can see a glimmer… when they pick up a teddy or even a pencil, and put it in their pocket,” She lifted her hand and closing it, made a fist around an imagined object, “I can see the flash of memory, of a time when they were people, and not monsters.”

Sun’s smile faltered but he held up his hands when, assuming she had offended him, Wraith attempted to apologize.

“It is alright, sister. I myself am no longer human and because of my glow, am considered to be a monster, even amongst non-feral ghouls. But, having witnessed horrific calamities that those still yet named human have done; I count myself instead as, not a monster, but closer to Atom. And there is a domain that I happily occupy, no matter what others deem me as.”

“If you and Infamy are closer to Atom and doing his bidding, then I say you are well within the realm of monsterhood.”

His smile went out like a candle, “I cannot abide Infamy’s tactics. Their use of ferals as fodder is unforgivable! I would rather see them mercifully slain than used as soulless killing machines.” He steepled his fingers, “When Brother Harkness came to me for help and described who you were, I took it as a sign. I came without hesitation because I knew that it was His will.”

“I can admire your conviction to your beliefs, but they aren’t mine. I’m having a real hard time with this whole plan. I question the idea of assuming the identity of a religious figure. No matter what good I might do, it’s still a lie.”

“I’m not here to convert you. But, I know that you are part of Atom’s plan.” His smile had returned, “Ask me anything. I embrace questioning my faith. After all, what credibility would it maintain if it couldn’t stand up to scrutiny?”

She narrowed her eyes, “Give me one truth.” She leaned away and folded her arms, “Let’s start there.”

“I too have traveled to the Sacred Spring, drank from its waters, seen visions provided by the Mother. Among some that were terrifying I was struck by a singular image,” He abruptly stood up and went to his pack. “I made a sketch as soon as I was able to hold a pencil.” He handed her a piece of paper as he sat down, “The Mother spoke to me; she named them ‘Harbinger’.”

The crude drawing was of an upright, humanoid deathclaw.

“The Mother showed me you.”

“Hmm. That… does look a little like my armor.” She wrestled with the fact that she had just received her gift that morning and no one apart from Bear had seen her in it.

“I left the Capital Ruins because Harkness is a good, trustworthy friend. I had a suspicion of your significance but wasn’t sure until I saw you today. You and the Harbinger are one and the same. I came here to help him, but it has been revealed that I am meant to help you!”

“Okay, Sun. I will agree that you came here with good intentions. And whether or not that,” She tapped the drawing gently, “is me, shall remain to be seen.”

“It is a place to start.” He returned his sketch to his pack and returned himself to the mat. “When you are ready, I’m going to reach out to you, and I want you to describe how it feels.”

Telling herself not to flinch, Wraith closed her eyes and nodded, “A little like a static charge; doesn’t hurt but it feels a little… zappy.”

“Do you feel any impressions? See any images?”

“Nope.”

“Very well. This time I want you to try and push back. I want you to imagine a wall or shield, blocking the zappy feeling. It may help you to think of it as an attack. Find where it is hitting you, and try to stop it.”

For several minutes the two sat across from each other, quietly waging war.

“We should stop for now.”

“Oh, thank god. I have to pee so bad…”

Sun tilted back his head and laughed, “Is that what it is? Your attention was very strong up until about fifteen minutes ago, ha!”

“You mean I’m actually doing something?”

“Certainly. Your light is very bright, even at rest. It is no wonder you’ve been able to ask them for help without any training.”

“My light?” She shifted her weight, uncomfortable but stubborn in her excitement for knowledge.

He laughed again, “Go to the latrine!”

On her way back, she spotted Harkness. At that moment he happened to pull his arms up over his head, stretching and yawning, affording her an opportunity to size him up and watch him move in the light of day.

He really is a big one. At least as big as Danse… he moves a little lighter though…

“You know, General Death in the Shadow, most people would get pretty excited, having someone as important as you, eye them up and down like that.”

“And what? You’re not most people?”

Jeez! He irks my very soul!

“I don’t see wanton eyes filled with lustful assessment. It’s not flattering; it’s scary.” He came to stand directly in front of her. Almost toe to toe, “I see you deciding how best to kill me.” He folded his large arms and glared down at her, “How did you put it? Ah, yes; ‘rip me in half’.”

“Ouch.” Reminding herself that he came a very long way to help and that she did in fact threaten to kill him, Wraith tried hard to be peaceable, “I truly apologize for both my actions and demeanor when we first met.”

He tilted his head to the side and squinted, “That’s it?”

“I’m sure that I would find ripping you in half to be… at least half again as difficult as I may have suggested.”

Letting his arms fall to his sides, his blue eyes widened before he erupted in bombastic laughter. Shaking his head, he patted her none-to-gently on the bicep, “Harley’s right; you are the scariest person ever!”

He had no idea how much those words hurt her.

“Yeah, that’s me; the Commonwealth Monster.”

“Tell Sunny I’m just about done with the fence. I’ll come in and make food when I’m finished.”

Noting the grim line of Wraith’s mouth, Sun turned up his glow and literally gave her his brightest smile, “Harkness is a moody sort of person. He fusses at me a great deal as well.”

“It’s not all on him. I just wish… nope… We need to focus on the ‘here and now’.” She forced a smile of her own, “Tell me about lights.”

“The lights of the soul,” He settled back to the mat, “you may see them in your mind. You’ll call out to them, guide them and push them.”

“So, when you’re pushing at me, my light is where you… aim?”

“If that analogy helps you, then yes.”

“So if I can see your light, can I talk to you? Make you do stuff?” A horrible thought had crept through her mind, “Even if you don’t want to?”

“Ah, yes. This brings us to something very important. Wraith, you must always be the brightest light.” He set his hands together and briefly touched their tips to his scarred lips, “Most sentient beings carry a light inside them and most of those are strong enough to withstand any attempts at manipulation. It is possible to be overwhelmed however, so think of yourself as a lighthouse. Your radiance is a strong beacon of hope and you gather the smaller lights to you. You offer them peace, direction, safety and tranquility.” Separating his hands he waved them in a gesture of dismissal, “You do not ever go to them. Don’t follow the lights!”

“I’m sorry, but why? I know that they aren’t just…”

“Infamy and I are not the only Children who have herded feral ghouls.” Sun’s eyes filled with pain and sorrow, “Some of the other parishioners started to call us The Necromancers.” His smile was sad, “I’ll admit, I thought it was very cool and along with our friends, I began to act like… well, rather high and mighty. Some of us, rather than simply move ferals to more convenient and safe locations, started aiming our small collections at wastelanders who might have offered us some slight.” Now his eyes filled with guilt, “It went too far, of course. People died; people who didn’t deserve that level of admonishment.”

“So, the Necromancers became infamous… then Infamy?”

“Yes. At this point I was still a member, but I was having problems reconciling the deaths… and I wasn’t the only one.” He leaned toward her, “There was a power struggle within the group; those who wanted to return to The Necromancers and those who chose Infamy. Each faction had a leader and when the two faced off, Atom’s Assassin came out on top. Multiple ferals were used in their attack, and once their opponent was lost in a sea of overwhelming lights, Infamy took hold of what little of their mind was left and bent them to their will.”

Brow furrowed, Wraith stuck out her lip, “Wait… and you… you all think I’ll somehow be able to…”

Leaning back, Sun waved his hands dismissively, “Oh, no. This isn’t a coup d’état; it should be sufficient for you to simply demonstrate your ability to herd fearls. We are seeking to establish credibility to the claim that you are Chosen and therefore not a pretender as Marie has claimed.”

Suddenly overwhelmed, Wraith surged to her feet and bolted for the door. At that moment Harkness was heading inside to prepare a meal and so the two nearly collided. Near tears, she muttered an apology as she ducked under his arm and twisted away.

She didn’t get very far. Just past the remains of the semi-trucks were the three feral ghouls she had seen that morning. She stopped and crouched, instinctively preparing for battle. They all but ignored her, continuing to pick unknown detritus from the grass and putting it their mouths. As she watched them she patted herself down, stopping when she realized what she was searching for.

“Need a cigarette?” Harkness, seeming to appear from midair, leaned against a truck cab and offered her a pack.

“No, thanks. I’m after something a little stronger.”

“Oh, yeah. Buffout, right?”

“Christ! Does everybody know?!”

Pushing himself away from the vehicle, he folded his arms and gave her a pitying smile, “Hancock didn’t tell me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Let me guess…”

“No, it wasn’t Harley either.” He watched as the ferals shuffled away toward the warehouse, “I figured it out on my own. When we met you acted so out of character from what I was expecting that I knew something had to be off. That and the ability to lift me off the ground with one hand…”

“It’s been getting steadily worse; every time I got scared, or even nervous, I’d pop a Buffout ‘just in case’.” It was easier to watch the ferals then meet his eye, “I’d take one and I’d calm down because then I was strong enough to handle what was coming. The times that I’ve lost control… I didn’t take it because I wanted to… no matter who they are or what they’ve done the people I’ve killed are, well, people. When I go berserk there is a good chance I won’t remember the little details of the murders I’m committing. Curie has warned me that it was all psychosomatic; I thought I was controlling myself with the chem when it was actually all in my head.”

“Let’s fight.”

“I don’t wanna fight with both myself and you.”

“No, I mean spar.” He widened his stance, bent his knees slightly and raised his fists, “Harley says you used martial arts to help Cait overcome her lingering cravings. Maybe it’ll help you too.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

Plus, I might get to sock you one - guilt free.

They spent the next few moments testing each other with quick jabs and minor kicks. Nothing connected as they each skillfully deflected the others probing attacks. Wraith found herself thoroughly enjoying the exchange and let herself relax and focus on the movements of her opponent.

He’s really quick! He may have Danse’s frame but he moves like Deacon. I wish the two of us could’ve done some exercises like this. Although, if it was anything like sparing with Hancock then other things would have… No, he never thought of me that way… What a thing to think about now!

Sensing her distraction and hoping to capitalize, Harley stepped in close and aimed a knee at her midsection. Dropping her hips to guard, she wrapped her arms around his torso and hefted him into the air while swinging him slightly forward. On the backswing she used his body’s momentum to pop him up and over her back and slam him to the ground.

“OOOFFFHA!” Utterly defeated he made the time-out signal with his hands and attempted to gain air into his lungs.

“Ooo! Gotcha good that time.” She hoped her smile wasn’t too obvious, “You let me know when you’re ready for round two.”

Wheezing, the large man took her offered hand and let her pull him to his feet, “No thanks! I don’t want to wrestle anymore today.”

She held on to his hand, “Thanks for this, really. I was freaking out and… you made me feel better.”

Laughing ruefully he placed his other hand atop hers and gave it a pat, “I’m glad you tossing me around made one of us feel better.”

Sun had come to look for Wraith and was confused by the juxtaposition of fighting and laughter, “Are the two of you… well?”

“She’s better and I’m going inside to cook because my ego and I need to prove that there is something I’m capable of being successful at.”

“The… fence looks… complete…”

“Thank you, Sunny. I can always count on you to be mildly complementary.” He lifted a cautionary finger, “Don’t let go of the ferals just yet, I want to make another circuit before you do.”

As the three of them headed back to the office, Wraith felt the now familiar sensation of a mental intrusion. Sun, who was slightly ahead of her, felt it as well and he stopped and turned toward the warehouse. The three feral ghouls had stopped feeding and were standing perfectly still; staring intently at the building that contained the feral glowing one.

“She’s calling us… she… ah, she’s lost interest.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to keep her in there? If she’s that powerful…”

“Not to worry, sister Wraith. I am quite proficient in my craft. Even if I cannot move her as I like; I’m confident I can keep her in a state of peacefulness.”

Wraith’s tone was grim, “And if that fails, I am confident in my proficiency of my craft.”

After they ate, (Sun more out of polite interest than necessity) Harkness asked the other two to clean while he made a final check of the fence, “I’m going to circumambulate one last time before you take off their mental leashes. It would be less than polite to let them wander off into someone’s tato plot.”

Wraith and Sun spent the remainder of the day cross-legged on the mat, quietly sparing until the sun made the western hills its grave.

Exhausted from the training, Wraith fell asleep almost as soon as she lay down for the night.

She was back in the cave.

“I have to find the source!”

The dripping water proved directionless; echoing through her ears and reverberating from the rough, pitted walls. She spun in a circle: searching, searching, searching… Drawn to the faint light cast by glowing fungus she moved as though floating. A faint flicker at the corner of her vision caused her to flinch and spin away.

“Pippa, you need to stop.”

Deacon phased in and out of focus, as if he was using a glitching Stealth-Boy, and no matter how she twisted and turned, she couldn’t see him but from the corner of her eye.

“Please stop or we’ll die.”

His voice came from directly behind her. She spun around; putting her back to the mushrooms to see him fully. His tear-streaked face was a pallid green from their illumination.

“Stop what?!” She tried to go to him but could no longer move, “Stop how?!”

As before his eyes began to glow, brighter and brighter it spread until his whole body shone. It created a strobe-like effect when combined with his flickering in and out of sight. Then, ever so slowly, he raised a hand. Clutched in his fist was a single glowing fungus and he offered it to her as if it were a rose.

“This one is yours.”

Wraith’s next three days followed a pattern: breakfast, meditative combat, lunch, meditative combat, sparing with Harkness, dinner, meditative combat then bedroll. Thankful that the cave dream didn’t manifest again, she got some much-needed sleep each night.

On the fourth day she had a breakthrough.

“HA!” Her forceful shout corresponded to a particularly successful mental push. The result of which knocked Atom’s Sun over and made Harkness jump out of his chair.

“What?! What’s happening?!”

Scooping the ghoul from the floor, Wraith spun them round, “Eeeeeeeee! That was awesome!”

“Please!” The glowing one somehow managed to look even more green, “I’m about to be sick!”

“I take this to mean that progress has been made.”

“Yes, very much so.” Grateful to have his feet touching the floor, he wobbled slightly but was smiling, “Congratulations, sister Wraith. Now we will work on refin…”

As if in response to their celebration, there came an incredible psionic pulse from the warehouse’s glowing resident. It was so powerful in fact, that Harkness turned along with the other two to stare toward the building next door.

“Whoa!” Wraith’s voice was hushed in awe, “Radiance just threw down the gauntlet.” She pointed toward the ceiling, “Let’s go check up on her.”

On one of her previous ghoul-problem checks, Wraith had created a makeshift bridge between the roofs of the two main buildings. Once the trio crossed over they quietly moved around the catwalk until they could see the feral glowing one.

And what a sight she was: bathed in light of her own making, Our Lady of Perpetual Radiance stood perfectly upright with her arms slightly raised and palms facing her hips. Sensing them, she turned and took several elegant steps in their direction. Her poise and grace called to mind an expert ballerina. Further, rather than the normal growths, welts and malformed lumps caused by ghoulification, she was adorned in glowing funguses of varying pastel hues. There was a large concentration trailing up her spine to encircle her scalp which made it look as if she had been crowned by luminescent jewels.

“She’s a queen.” Breathless, Wraith couldn’t take her eyes off her.

Tilting her chin slightly downward, Radiance gave the other woman an intensely scrutinizing look while sending out another powerful mental challenge.

“She’s here… for me…”

“Wraith!” Harkness stepped between them, “Hey! Snap out of it.”

“Sister Wraith, we should return…”

Nodding wordlessly she followed behind them in a haze.

The next 3 days passed with much the same routine. The difference being that after her sparing with Harkness, Sun would take her to the warehouse roof where they would alternate trying to connect with Radiance and the other feral ghouls.

This made Harkness very nervous and he made several comments to that effect. When asked “why” he couldn’t properly articulate his forbearance, “It’s dangerous. The other ferals… that is what you came here to learn but her… I don’t know. We didn’t bring her, she brought herself.”

On the ninth day, Wraith awoke with a start and leaped to her feet. She could hear voices, raised in anger, coming from outside. One of them was Marie’s. Quickly donning her new armor, she slipped out a window while activating a Stealth-Boy.

Once outside, the early dawn light shown over a grim scene: the bodies of several ghouls, both feral and clad in Infamy’s darkened Children’s robes, lay across the grass in between two of the semi-truck trailers. A few living members ringed a kneeling, and obviously injured Harkness while Marie held Sun of Atom at gunpoint. A glowing one, whom Wraith presumed to be Atom’s Assassin, sat on the top of one of the trailers, letting their feet swing in and out of the opening.

Marie’s voice was shrill, “How could you?! How dare you kill your own people?!”

“Tch. Don’t waste words on that foolish, old Necromancer.” Infamy’s leader had their dagger out and was playing with it in a way that was clearly meant to be menacing. Pitching forward, they did a perfect flip and landed lightly on their feet. Purposely bypassing Marie and her hostage, they held their blade under Harness’s chin, forcing his eyes up slightly to meet their own, “Where is the Pretender, hmm? Where is Death in the Shadow?”

“She’s no pretender, Infamy. I promise you; Wraith’s the real deal.”

Infamy was intrigued.

“Don’t listen to this… blasphemous lout! He himself aided Morningstar in infiltrating the Apostles of the Holy Light by acting as a member! He is no less an enemy than she is!”

Marie had taken to waving her pipe pistol around as if it was a visual aid. Distracted by her wrath, she was easily disarmed by Sun who, in turn, put her in a headlock with the muzzle at her temple.

“Oh! Unhand me you… bastard!”

Infamy was amused.

“Hear us out. Please, my… please.”

Arching a hairless brow, Atom’s Assassin sheathed their weapon and folded their arms, “I’m all ears. Oh, hahaha; that’s funny cause I haven’t any! Ha ha heeee!” They gave Sun a dismissive wave, “By all means, kill that obnoxious psychotic. Ha! We only need one in our party and I am more than sufficient! Hahaha!”

Instead, Sun released her and backed away with his hands in the air, “She’s barely more than a child.” He directed his emphatic smile at her, “You have your whole life in front of you. You can be anyone and do anything. You can stop this right now; by telling the truth!”

She spit in his face.

Wraith flinched. She was unwilling to act because she couldn’t figure an attack pattern that would guarantee the survival of her friends. At war with herself, her patient side was winning, but the berserker would not be silent.

In a gesture of good faith, Sun returned the pistol to Marie. Raising his hands he turned back to Infamy’s leader. “Wraith is by no means a false profit. In fact she makes no claims of prophecy herself. High Confessor Tektus proclaimed her Chosen because she, being granted the Mother of the Fog’s holy Icon, aided in the preservation of our sect in Far Harbor.” He placed his palms together as in prayer and brought his hands to the ruin of his nose. “I too have made the pilgrimage to the Sacred Spring. Atom has not yet granted me the clarity to fully understand the visions I received, but ultimately, I believe Wraith to be our friend and ally.”

“Lies!” Marie returned to waving her weapon, “She is the destroyer of Crater House! She has slain countless of our brothers and sisters! She is no friend; she is a heartless killer!”

Infamy fixed her with a withering glare, “Be quiet for now or I will silence you forever.” They set a finger to their lips and shushed her. Then bringing the digit away from their face they shook it back and forth in the air, “Ah ah ahhh, Sunny boy. I myself have heard the settlers speak of their leader as a ‘master over ghouls’ and they call her ‘priestess of Atom’ awayyyy up north. If she didn’t start this herself, as you claim, then she certainly didn’t stop it, as I know.” They put their hands on their hips and leaned toward their fellow glowing one, “Infamy doesn’t care much for those to garner fame at Atom’s expense!”

“She is no self-proclaimed priestess, and is prepared to denounce this publicly over Radio Freedom.” Sun smile was sly, “As for her ghoul mastery; we are prepared to give you a demonstration of her abilities… as a Necromancer.”

Marie, in an attempt to hybridize scoffing and laughter, ended up chocking and coughing instead.

Infamy was confused.

“How? Unless my mother was right and I’ve finally gone blind, she is no glowing one; feral or otherwise.” They folded their arms and turned to where Wraith was hiding, “Please, by all means, show me your power.”

Wraith deactivated her Stealth-Boy and walked out to them with her hands in the air, “I’d say you’re far from blind.”

Marie hissed.

“I don’t know how you put up with her.” She gave Harkness a searching look, “How bad are you?”

“I’m fixing to live.”

Atom’s Assassin closed the distance between them remarkably quickly, “Take off your helmet, if you would, General. I’d very much like to see your eyes as we speak.”

Wraith refused to flinch away from the heat as the ghoul placed their face less than an inch from her own. She couldn’t prevent the involuntary gasp of air however, and was once again amazed that a being capable of generating that much heat and light would do so with a complete lack of body odor.

“You’re defiant of Marie’s claim that you are a heretic of the Church of Atom? That these rumors of your prestige are in fact, the propaganda of others and not of your making or design? Do you have the ability to call and control feral ghouls? Did you lay waste to the settlement of Crater House and slay the Holy Guardian at Kingsport Lighthouse?”

The rapid-fire questions put Wraith back on her heels, “Yes.” She lifted her chin defiantly, “I didn’t know that Kingsport was a claimed site. Outside of the… guardian, there wasn’t anyone there when I scouted it for a settlement. I destroyed the war camp at Crater House due to repeated attacks of the established Minutemen settlement, and only after my attempts at diplomacy…”

“I care not for your reasons.” They leaned away and waved Sun over to them, “What exactly did you see on your pilgrimage?”

“A figure with a remarkable resemblance to General Wraith, named as ‘Harbinger’. I know not of what she proceeds.”

“All Atom’s knowledge is granted to the patiently devout.”

The now familiar sensation of a glowing one’s summoning buzzed in Wraith’s mind. Shortly, a quartet of feral ghouls shambled their way over to stand in a row in front of the group.

“Now, I shall release them…”

“Wait! She is but a novice…”

Infamy’s eyes blazed at the interruption, “Atom will protect her, if that is his will. That being said; you have five minutes or I’ll kill you all.” They clapped their hands, “Isn’t this fun?! Wheeeee!”

Marie snorted.

“You can do this, Wraith.” In pain, Harkness’s voice was strained and horse.

Almost immediately the ferals rushed her. This fostered suspicion that they had been ordered to attack rather than simply “let go”. She stayed ahead of them; happy to move them away from her friends.

During her training she had found that tapping into her berserker side had actually helped her when connecting to the ghouls.

Two sides of the same coin, it seems.

Donning her helmet and relaxing her mental self-restraint, she sent out a tentative greeting to her pursuers. As soon as she saw their lights she knew that these were reavers. Atom’s Assassin had deliberately chosen some of the most powerful of his arsenal to test her. Little did Infamy’s leader know that she had been practicing with a feral of Radiance’s caliber.

Come to think of it; why hasn’t she been throwing challenges at Infamy? Maybe I just piss her off…

As she wooed the ferals she felt what could only be an attack from Infamy. Distracted, she stumbled and was hit hard on the side of the head by one of the feral ghouls. Thankful for her armor, she spun away from the reaver unhurt.

Infamy’s attack made her angry, but she channeled it into an attack of her own and broke through to two of her assailants. These immediately rounded on their allies and pinned them to the ground.

Infamy was shocked.

“Well… well...” They snapped their fingers and the guards surrounding Harkness immediately broke away and retreated through the hole the group had cut in the fence. “It seems as though Atom has seen fit to grant you special abilities. We will be returning to the Capital Wasteland now. Once there, I shall meditate long and hard on this Holy Lesson…”

“You CANNOT BE FUCKING SERIOUS!” Spittle flew from Marie’s mouth as she shrieked, “YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULD DESTROY HER! SHE IS A MONSTER! I WILL NOT LET HER GET AWAY WITH THIS…”

She shot Atom’s Sun, point blank, in the temple.

Infamy, Harkness and Wraith all ran to them but Wraith, already lost in her berserker’s rage, reached them first.

She ripped Marie in half.

At that exact moment the garage door of the warehouse burst open in a white-green blast of radiation. Surrounded in a nimbus of prismatic light, Our Lady of Perpetual Radiance seemed to float across the grass as she came to Wraith’s side. The two of them together was an image out of the darkest of nightmares: Wraith in her blood and intestine draped deathclaw armor and the apparent queen of all radioactive monsters.

The others could only stand back and watch as Radiance reached forward and grabbed Wraith’s head in her scorched and twisted fingers. She pulled her forward until their foreheads met, then spun away toward the south east. Not even slowing down when she met the fence; she simply melted her way through and continued on at a swift pace. All the remaining feral ghouls followed her through.

And Wraith followed with them.

Thank you so much for reading! Like what you’ve read? Looking for more? Please see my master link post in my tags under Wraith in the Ruins. As always, my ask is open for questions/comment/concerns. More to come! =^..^=

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