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nadja-antipaxos · 1 year

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chapter two: between my fingers, she leaves, then she lingers

previously - chapter one || masterlist || next - chapter three

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: brief mention of attempted murder, swearing, kissing, talk of masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), protected PIV sex, vaginal fingering, canon typical violence (punching, hitting with a cricket bat, stabbing, fighting an evil jackal, murder), self-loathing, drinking.

Note: Thank you to everyone who has left comments. I love feedback, so if you enjoy this, please let me know. This chapter covers episodes 1 and 2 of the show. All chapter titles are from Halsey's "honey".

Word Count: 6,200

Despite having the location of the scarab, neither Marc nor Ash gets to it before Harrow. Marc has a lead on a small village in the Alps to recover it, but he needs supplies first. He moves through the storage unit double checking the mental list in his head.

“It might be easier if you let her help.” Khonshu echoes in his skull.

“I don’t wanna see her if I don’t have to.” Marc’s eyes flicker over to the flip phone she gave him. He feels so guilty. Three weeks later and he hasn’t stopped thinking about her. He even reached out to an old research contact for more information on her but hasn’t opened the file. Of course, it’s in the bag he needs. His hand ghosts over the file. He sighs, giving in and grabbing it. Maybe he’ll read it on the plane.

“We don’t have time for your romantic squabbles. You sent the divorce papers and it’s over. This is the fate of the world.” Khonshu snaps.

“And I’m gonna handle it. Alone.” Marc rolls his shoulders back.

In the air, he keeps the file in his lap and finally opens it. Aishwarya Rajul is not her given name. It has her listed as Aishwarya Manne. Born to Neel Manne and Disha Rajul on August 3, 1987. Same age as Marc and a year older than Layla. Her father had a long rap sheet filled with domestic violence. He killed her mother, stabbed Ash, and then killed himself. Ash was unconscious when the police found her. She was only ten years old. After that, she bounced from foster home to foster home until she was adopted by a community leader and Evangelical pastor, Henry Preston and his wife. Despite her great grades, she constantly got into fights at school and even ran away when she was fourteen She made it to New York when they brought her back. After that, she filled her rap sheet with minor theft, breaking and entering, and underage drinking. She got to Recruited by the CIA after hacking into one of their databases at age seventeen. Aptitude for languages and multiple fighting styles. There are no details on her missions but she definitely didn’t ride a desk. Spain. Italy. Istanbul. Berlin. Moscow. Mumbai. London. Paris. Morocco. Johannesburg. Consistent missions for seven years. Her final mission was in Egypt. Ten years ago. She never returned and was considered killed in action. But she isn’t dead. She’s very much alive. Marc inhales sharply. He doesn’t know if the new information makes him feel better or worse.

Ash keeps her distance but she watches him run through the Alps and get the scarab. Then poor Steven gets involved. She almost intervenes when Harrow confronts him but he gets away in a cupcake van. She watches from her spot with her sniper rifle. She squints and shoots one of the chains holding back the logs on a truck. It comes crashing down allowing Steven to get out of harm’s way. Marc takes over the body and drives away. She leaves the village with both Marc and Harrow completely unaware of her involvement. Marc makes it back to London and Steven believes it’s all a dream.

“Thank you.” Khonshu looks at Ash as she sits on top of the roof of Steven’s flat with Sekhmet.

“You’re welcome.” She sighs. She wants to go back to her flat and sleep.

Sekhmet is as tall as Khonshu with the head of a lioness with green glowing eyes. They narrow into slits as she takes in the moon god.

“Why must we keep things so hidden? He can shove his dick inside her but he can’t—-”

“I had nothing to do with that.”

Sekhmet growls knowing that’s not entirely true.

“Marc has enough to deal with. No need to complicate things yet. I’ll see you both soon. Harrow won’t take the loss lightly.” Khonshu warns before disappearing into the night.

“I don’t trust him.” Ash sighs.

“I know and you have every right, my kitten.” Sekhmet places her large hand on Ash’s shoulder.

“You know what he told Harrow. That’s the only way he could’ve known.” Ash sighs. “This is basically all his fault. If he could be good to his Avatars, Harrow wouldn’t have found out about Ammit.”

“Khonshu has a complex relationship with his Avatars. Something I am glad to say, we do not understand. But Khonshu was the only one to help me in my time of need so that I could help you. Do you understand, dearest?”

She knows how close they are which is why she can communicate with Khonshu—a rare gift among Avatars. If Sekhmet wants Marc to see her, he could but for now, she follows Khonshu’s wishes. After ten years, Ash trusts her judgment. She owes the feline goddess her life.

“Yes…I understand.” Ash sighs. However, Khonshu and Sekhmet won’t face Marc’s wrath. She will. He already doesn’t trust her. It was so much easier the old way. Before Harrow knew about the scarab, she would simply watch and lend an invisible helping hand. Then Khonshu felt it was necessary for her to make herself known but in his timing. Control freak.

Marc walks out of the museum. His side aches every time he breathes. He just needs to get back to the flat. He sees a white sedan flick its lights on before driving slowly over to him. The window rolls down.

“Really punched your way out, huh?” It’s Ash.

“Are you always following me?” He really doesn’t want to see her right now.

“No, not always.” She stops the car next to him in the middle of the road. “C’mon, tough guy.”

“I’m fine.” He winces and clutches his side.

“It’s no fun walking with a bruised rib. Big Bird’s healing is gonna take a bit. Lemme help you get home.” She frowns.

Marc’s eyes widen. She knows about Khonshu?

“How—how do you know about—-”

“We. Work. For. The same. People.” She claps after every pause. The door to the sedan opens.

Marc bows his head and gets in the car. He sighs.

“Do you know where to go?” He asks, putting on the seat belt.

“I don’t have it like memorized if that’s what you mean.” She snorts.

“Turn left here.” Marc keeps his eyes on his hands.

“You okay?” She asks when they reach a stoplight.

“What?” He looks at her. Her makeup is simple tonight and she has on a brown leather jacket. She looks good, but that’s kind of her thing. She always looks good.

“Are you okay? I know Harrow was in there. I’m sure he didn’t make it easy. Trying to bait you like that. Using Steven.” Her brow pinches. She looks a little upset.

“You know about Steven?” He folds his arms across his chest. Steven would’ve mentioned her on those voicemails he has to delete if she had any real presence in his life.

“He’s very sweet. Don’t worry. He doesn’t know what I do. He thinks I’m an academic.” Her tone is gentle.

“Using those CIA skills?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Always.” She winks.

He wants to laugh. He wants to trust her. But people like her don’t just fall from the sky offering to help. There has to be a catch.

“So, are you okay?” She asks again. No one asks him that anymore. Not since Layla.

Marc’s throat feels tight, so he just nods. He reaches forward and brushes her hair away from her eyes. She inhales a shaky breath looking into those piercing eyes. He leans over but before he can do anything, someone honks. The light is green, so she hits the gas.

He keeps his gaze away from her. He smells her perfume making him think of their night together. Her sounds. Her touch. She repeats her question and he mumbles directions at her.

She helps him from the elevator to the door while he keeps his eyes on his feet. He knows it’s immature. But he’s not too sure of himself when she’s around. To her credit, she doesn’t make things awkward or make him talk. He gets ready for bed while she waits by the aquarium. Ash doesn’t want to press him. She watches the fish. Marc slips the ankle restraint in place and sighs. He hopes this doesn’t come back to bite him.

“I have the scarab.” He admits, not looking her in the eye.

“Wow.” Ash turns around and folds her arms across her chest. “Did you want a gold star?”

“I…” He sighs. She isn’t going to make it easy for him. “I think we should work together.”

Ash holds back her smile and just nods. “Still have the phone?”

“Yeah. I’ll call you.” He clears his throat.

“Cool.” She straightens up, ready to walk out. She reaches the door when she hears him gasp. She doubles back.

“Hey, are you—”

“Where the hell—” His eyes dart around the room and settle on her. “Dr. Devi?”

It’s Steven. Fuck. How is she gonna explain this? She actually freezes.

“Knock him out,” Sekhmet tells her.

The gods didn’t always have the most tactful suggestions. She’s not going to punch Steven. He doesn’t deserve it and she would never be able to bring herself to hurt him. She meant everything she said to him before they kissed. She likes him. It’s mind-boggling to her that he doesn’t have a partner. Donna is wrong. Anyone would be lucky to have him. He’s so sweet.

“Dr. Devi? Why are you in my flat?”

“How do you know this isn’t a dream?”

“Cause when I’m dreamin’ about you—you’re not wearing jeans or American.” He shakes his head.

Ash is flattered. “What am I usually wearing or not wearing?”

“Are you with him?” Steven looks frustrated and a little scared, so her smile fades.

“Who?” She lifts her brows.

“The man from the—the scales man.” Steven straightens up.

“Harrow. No.” Ash moves over slowly and undoes the ankle restraint gently so that they’re on somewhat of an even playing field.

“Why do you sound different?” He watches her with narrowed eyes.

“This is my real voice, Steven.” Ash puts her hands up and sits on the edge of the bed giving them distance.

“Mirror Man send you?”

“No.”

“But you know him.”

“Yes.”

Steven inhales sharply. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms. “You were lyin’ the whole time. No PhD. No glasses. Fake name.”

“Real first name.”

Yeah, sure. Why fake the accent?”

“Habit from my old job.”

“What job?”

“CIA.”

Steven lets out a hysterical laugh.

“Now you’re really puttin’ me on. You want me to believe the CIA hired a gorgeous woman like you as a spy? They just thought people would forget the most beautiful woman they’ve ever seen?”

“It didn’t come up as an occupational hazard.” Ash shrugs. No one remembered her long enough to make it an issue. She could make herself practically invisible if she wanted.

Steven huffs trying to hide the sting in his chest. He thought she really liked him. Donna was right. That should’ve been the first clue something was up. He shakes his head.

“Why should I believe a word you say? This whole time you—was I just a joke to you? You having a laugh? Acting like you liked me.”

Ash sees how hurt he is and she hates that he thinks that. “You’re not a joke to me, Steven. You’re sweet and handsome. Really smart.”

Steven shakes his head. “You’ve been caught. You can give it up.”

“I’m trying to help you.”

“Sure you are.”

“Remember in the Alps when those logs came crashing down killing those two guys?”

Steven furrows his brow. How does she know about that? He tilts his head. She raises her hand.

“That was—was you?”

“I’m here tonight because after that jackal attacked you I wanted to make sure you got home okay.” She stands up. “And you did, so I’m gonna go.”

She crosses over to the door. She grabs the knob when Steven touches the door.

“How did snogging in front of Donna help me?”

A flush grows across her cheekbones and she giggles. It’s a wonderful sound.

“I kissed you because I wanted to.” She smiles. “And because Donna’s a cunt.”

Steven shrugs. She’s not wrong. It’s a lot to process and his head hurts from it all. For six months, he thought she was one thing and that was all a lie, but she did save his life. She’s waiting and he knows he needs to say something. He just blurts out the first thing in his head.

“You really think I’m handsome?”

“Gorgeous.” She scans him up and down as she says it making his stomach twist.

“What do I call you?” Steven straightens up.

“Ash.”

“Short for Aishwarya?”

“My mom used to call me that. She was English.”

“Oh. Was?”

“She died when I was ten.”

The pain on her face tells him that’s not a story or she’s the world’s greatest living actress. He doesn’t think it’s the latter. He frowns.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Steven.”

Steven swallows hard. He didn’t realize it but he’s kind of pinned her to the door. He removes his hand and steps back. He doesn’t really know what to do here. He just knows he doesn’t want her to go. She slides out the first lock before moving to the others.

“Jesus. Have you been robbed before or something?”

“I-I thought I had a sleeping disorder. Not so sure now.”

Her hand reaches the doorknob.

“You don’t—er—have to run off if you don’t want to.” He manages to get out.

She looks back at him and arches an eyebrow. “Yeah? You wanna keep talking?”

“Uhh…” Steven lets out a high-pitched noise. “We can?”

Ash arches an eyebrow higher.

“Or…” Steven leans in and ghosts his lips over hers. The angle is awkward. “Sorry. Don’t do this much.”

He looks up at her and sees her smiling.

“God, you’re the sweetest thing.”

“I am?”

She just nods and steps forward away from the door.

“Ash, I would very much like to kiss you again.”

She nods. Steven’s hands tremble slightly as they rest on her waist. He kisses her softly like he’s afraid she’s going to break. Her tongue sweeps over his lower lip and he moans. She grips the back of his head deepening the kiss. She leads him forward until he stumbles back on the bed. She kneels on the edge and looks down at her hands.

“This has been a crazy day for you.”

“You don’t know the half of it, love.”

“Maybe we should stop.”

“You jokin’? For six months, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Now, you think I wanna stop?”

“Just checking.” Ash beams at him. “This only goes as far as you want it to, okay?”

“You’re lovely.” Steven smiles at her. He hadn’t expected her to be so kind.

Ash stands up to unzip her boots and shimmy out of her jeans. She shrugs off her brown leather jacket revealing a Rolling Stones t-shirt underneath. Steven licks his lips. She smiles realizing he’s watching her. She tugs the ends of the shirt over her head leaving her in a black bra. His eyes grow wide. It’s not polite to stare, but goddamn.

“What?” She tilts her head to the side.

“I just—look at you.” He grins.

“I think you need to catch up.” She smirks.

He pulls his shirt over his head hastily and kicks off his sweatpants. She gets back on the bed and stalks towards him. He’s caught in her sights but is the most willing prey. She settles on her side resting her head on one of his pillows.

“Hi.”

Steven smiles. He likes this closeness. He reaches over and strokes her arm. Her skin is like velvet. She’s so smooth. He leans in and kisses her letting his fingers trail along her jaw. She sighs, pressing her mouth back against his. He should feel exhausted but he’s wide awake. Even in his wildest dreams, she didn’t look or taste this good. He pulls back looking at her in awe.

“So.” Her hand runs down his neck. “You said you thought about me.”

“Y-Yeah. All the time.” He sighs feeling her hand move across his collarbones.

“Did you ever touch yourself when you were thinking about me?” That hand moves to his stomach while she buries her face in his neck.

Steven feels his face burning and is glad she’s not looking at him. “Guilty. All those pencil skirts.”

“Mmm. I did too.” She chuckles, her breath leaving goosebumps on his skin.

“Care to share with the class, darling?” Steven closes his eyes when he feels her mouth on his neck.

“You wanna know?” Her lips move to the underside of his jaw.

“P-Please.” He moans when she kisses the hollow of his throat.

“How gorgeous you’ll look when I suck your dick.” She puts her mouth to his ear and nibbles on the earlobe.

Steven’s eyes snap open darting from the smirk on her lips to the now throbbing tent in his boxer briefs.

“How I’ll—when you—“ He gapes at her.

She pouts looking down. “That looks uncomfortable.”

Steven lets out a delirious laugh. How is this his life?

“C’mon, Steven. You’re so pretty. I bet so many people have wanted to suck you off before.”

“Dove, I dunno if you noticed, but I’m not exactly a man about town.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Haven’t done this a lot…or ever.”

“Ohh, Steven.” She leans forward and kisses him. He’s so cute.

“What?” He feels a little embarrassed. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her.

“You’re so amazing. I’m trying really hard to hold back here.” She smiles. She doesn’t want to scare him off. He’s already had a rough day.

“What…what if I don’t want you to hold back?” Steven meets her eyes. He really hadn’t gotten around to sex. He wasn’t religious or saving himself. He just had never been in this position. The fact it was with someone who he really fancied and was absolutely gorgeous was like a sign from the universe. Yeah, she wasn’t an academic. She was a former spy who took out a bunch of assassins and saved his life. If anything, that only made him want her more.

“Yeah?” Her grin is wicked.

“Yeah.” Steven grins back. “I want you, Ash.”

“Me, too.” She kisses him again and it’s filthy. Her hands are everywhere while her tongue explores his mouth. He might pass out from how dizzy it makes him. She deserves an award she’s so good. “Lemme show you how much.”

“Can I take this off?” Her hands hover over the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“Absolutely.” Steven nods. “Have at it.”

She pulls his underwear down and over his legs. A slap echoes in the quiet apartment as his length rests against his stomach. He’s completely exposed now. He must look nervous because she strips.

“See? Same page.” She pops her fingers into her mouth and licks her palm before grabbing hold of him. He gasps. She starts off slow barely kissing his tip. Then a little kitten lick here or there before taking him in her mouth. Steven groans loudly and nearly sinks into the mattress.

“Oh, fuck, that feels good.” He closes his eyes.

Her head bobs up and down and his hand finds its way into her dark hair. He struggles to open his eyes to see her peering up at him gauging his reaction. She moans around his length and he sputters. Her hand pumps what she can’t fit and it’s way too soon when he feels that pull. He wishes he could last longer because it’s fantastic but he can’t.

“A-Ash, I’m gonna—I’m gonna—stop, love. Stop.” He tugs her hair and she lets go with a lewd pop. He swallows hard and tries his best to calm down. He doesn’t even look at her beautiful body or it’ll be a lost cause.

“I’d rather the first time be with you if that’s all right.” He runs a hand through his sweaty curls.

“Yeah. That’s all right.” She beams at him again.

“I have condoms in the desk.” Steven tells her. “Just for—if this ever happened.”

Ash gets to her feet and Steven groans. She snaps her head to him. In the lamp light of his desk, he can see her hourglass body properly. Large breasts. Perfect arse.

“That’s just bloody unfair.”

“What?”

“Love, we need to get you a better mirror or something because have you seen you?”

Ash laughs and bows her head. He treats her with such sweetness. She doesn’t know what to do with it. She finds the box of condoms in the drawer and walks back over.

“Lay down, Steven. Get comfortable.” Ash tells him.

Steven rests his head against the pillows. She has much more confidence and experience in this area, so he continues to let her lead. She tears open the packet and rolls the condom down his length.

“Er, Ash?” He looks concerned.

“Yeah?” She lets go of him.

“You didn’t get off though. Isn’t it better if you get off first?” His brow furrows.

“Steven Grant, you’re perfect.” She smiles. “I’ll be okay.”

Ash straddles him. She moans at the slight ache as her body pulls him inside. She looks over at Steven who can’t catch his breath. Steven has never felt anything like this before. No wonder everyone is obsessed with sex. It’s fucking fantastic. She’s tight and warm.

“Oh my days, you feel perfect.” He pants. “I don’t ever wanna leave.”

Ash giggles and begins to sway her hips. Steven groans. It surprises her how vocal he is.

“Ohh, uh—ohh, that’s—amazing.”

She leans back resting her hands on the bed for support taking him in deeper until he hits that spot that makes her tremble. She rocks herself back and forth giving Steven the most amazing view of her gorgeous body.

“Ash. How are you real, angel?” He whispers.

She grabs his hand and places it on one of her breasts. “Does this feel real?”

Steven squeezes her breast and she moans. His free hand cups the other one running his thumbs over the tender flesh. He touches her like she’s something delicate. That’s never happened before. He looks down a little mesmerized by how well her body takes him and how she knows exactly how to get off with barely any effort from him. But he doesn’t want to be a lazy lover. Not with someone like her.

“Oh, angel, you’re so beautiful. I wanna make you feel good. I just don’t…”

“Steven?”

“Show me how to make you feel good, love.”

Ash smiles at him. She takes one of his hands and places his thumb on her bundle of nerves.

“Alternate between circles like this and strokes like this. And when I come, don’t stop, okay?” She pants.

“Got it.” He smiles. His fingers move down. “Love, you’re absolutely dripping.”

“Sucking you off got me all hot.” She whines feeling him drag over that spot again.

“Ohh.” He bite his lip.

Steven follows her instructions and she gasps. He makes little patterns that are so delicious it sends sparks up her spine. What a smart, smart man.

“Uhh, Steven, that’s really good. That’s…” She gasps. “Oh.”

A grin spreads across his face. She lifts her hips only an inch before popping back down and he grunts her name. His heart gallops so fast he thinks it’s going to burst through his chest. She squeezes him and he whines an undignified noise.

“Uhhhnghh.”

“Are you close, Steven?”

“Al—Almost.”

Steven watches the sweat roll down from her hairline to her breasts. She’s perfect. He moans at how tight she’s gripping him. He remembers something in a novel he read and pinches that little nub. It sets her off like a rocket.

“Steven!” She flutters all around him and moans. He doesn’t even care if he gets complaints from the neighbors because she looks gorgeous. If they saw her, he doubts they’d complain. He keeps touching her like she asked and god, the noises she makes. It’s the last straw before he’s thrown completely off the edge. His head hits the pillows as he sees stars behind his eyelids. Everything goes white. He gulps down air feeling absolutely wrecked. She bends forward and kisses his sweaty neck.

“You okay, Steven?”

“Me? I’m aces. Brilliant.”

He hears her giggle again and opens his eyes. He cups her cheek with his hand.

“And you are so lovely.”

“You’re so sweet, Steven. Never change.”

Sleep takes hold of him before he can even think of something to say.

The hard smack on the floor wakes Steven up. He gets up and realizes he’s alone. Yesterday was the wildest day of his life. Cults. Scary men. Giant jackals. Whatever Marc is. Ash. God. Ash. She’s a dream. An absolute vision. It strikes him that she may not even realize that. He might not be a Casanova but he knew not to pass up a chance with her. The feeling of her mouth on his skin replays in his mind. How soft she was. He sighs. Is everyone’s life this complicated? Or just his?

Ash wakes up in the flat she’s renting. She can pay cash and no one asks questions. It’s in a seedy part of London, but she can handle herself.

“Sore?” Sekhmet purrs looking down at her from the edge of the bed.

“No comment.” Ash sighs. She can still feel Steven’s hands on her. It was different than Marc. Marc’s sole purpose was to make her come and his dedicated touch showed that. It was really hot. But Steven. He was delicate even precious at times. He treated her like…she was something special. She didn’t know what to do with that.

“I don’t think he would’ve kicked you out, kitten.” Sekhmet touches her hair.

“I-I’m not that person. Not with them. I fight. I fuck. I don’t stay around.” Ash sits up and tucks her hair behind her ears. “It’s how it is.”

Sekhmet hums in reply. Ash knows she wants to say something but she rushes off to the bathroom before she has the chance. She has more important things to worry about.

Layla tries to steady her breath as she moves up the roof. She barely got away. She has no idea what Marc is doing or what or who Steven is. But she has the scarab. She has what they’ve been fighting for. Now, she just has to get down.

“Layla…”

Layla snaps her head towards the voice. She nearly loses her footing because it’s…

“Ash?”

“Hi.” Ash gives her a tiny smile. “Need some help?”

“Uh, sure.” Layla laughs in disbelief.

Ash pulls her against her. Layla grabs her waist and they jump. The suit forms as they land. Layla stares. It’s been five years since they’ve seen each other. In the suit, Ash looks powerful and strong.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Layla whispers.

“Well, when some idiot wants to release an evil alligator goddess who doesn’t believe in free will, I kinda got to get involved,” Ash smirks.

Twin brown eyes lock as they look each other over. Layla is as beautiful as ever. Cute freckles and curls. Ash places her hands over Layla’s as they still rest on her waist.

“You okay?”

Layla’s brow furrows.

“Can I get a different question?”

“Are you happy to see me?”

Layla looks down and finally removes her hands. She feels the heat rise up her neck. “I’m not…unhappy to see you.”

Ash shrugs. She’ll take what she can get. She had several missions in Cairo where she needed Layla’s help. No reason to stop now. One in particular sticks out.

“Can you please tell me what’s going on? Does Sekhmet know anything?”

“Sekhmet wants to stop Ammit. Just like Khonshu. We can’t let Harrow get the scarab.”

“You know about Khonshu. So you know about Marc.” Layla stiffens.

“Yeah. Kinda been looking out for him.” Ash really doesn’t wanna get into an awkward conversation right now.

“So, you’re going to help him in there?” Layla gestures back to the flat building.

“No, I don’t fuck with Harrow’s people.” Ash folds her arms across her chest.

“Oh. So, they’re not cops.” Layla furrows her brow.

“Definitely not. Don’t really fuck with cops either.” Ash shrugs.

“So you’re gonna let them take him?” Layla raises her voice slightly.

“Yes and then we’ll rescue him once he’s with Harrow,” Ash explains.

“Why not now?” Layla huffs.

“Because I don’t want Harrow’s people to know about me. Harrow can’t know I’m here.” Ash puts her hands up.

“Why?” Layla’s hands are on her hips.

“Cause last time we saw each other he tried to kill me.” Ash sighs. “He wants me dead and I can’t give him another chance.”

Layla frowns then nods.

“That’s a pretty good reason.”

Everyone is inside when Layla and Ash make it to the little cult neighborhood on her moped. The whole ride over Layla tried to focus on anything but Ash’s hands on her hips. Ash inhales her perfume and reminds herself to stay on task. It was five years ago.

“Do you have a gun?” Layla asks as they approach.

“No. Guns are loud.” Ash picks up a discarded cricket bat. “And we need the element of surprise.”

Layla nods in agreement and watches as her suit forms over her body. Her face is hidden by her mask. There are guards outside the door. Four of them. Layla sprints and kicks one in the solar plexus and then delivers an uppercut to knock him out. Ash takes the bat and cracks the other across the jaw. Two down. Layla swallows hard ignoring the fluttering in her stomach. Ash points the bat at the man in front of her. He backs up and she runs after him. She grabs the back of his head and slams it into the wall. Three. She turns her head and sees Layla fighting with the last guard. A silver gleam catches in the moonlight. Ash shoves Layla out of the way. A knife pierces through her armor. She growls and rips it out, slashing the guy’s throat. Four.

“You okay?” Ash puts her hands on her knees.

“Are you?” Layla touches the wound. Ash hisses.

“Mhmm. It’ll go away.” She nods and straightens up.

Layla frowns and grabs the door. “Thanks for having my back.”

Ash winks and they slip inside. She jerks her head at the upper level. It’s less occupied. Layla nods. She has to hide. She can’t blend in like her.

They both watch as Steven eats soup with Harrow in the weirdest cult cafeteria. Harrow’s delivering the honey before the sting. Ash can hear Khonshu and rolls her eyes. She doesn’t even know why he’s talking. He’s just lurking on the upper level like she is but unlike her, he can’t actually do anything. She tenses as the goons surround Steven. She counts six and misses her sniper rifle.

As they keep talking, she watches more of his cult members activate ready to pounce. Harrow lifts his cane and Ash makes a fist. Her heart beats faster. She can’t jump down. Not with Harrow right there. He can’t know she’s there. But she can’t leave Steven.

Layla makes herself known and takes care of Steven. Ash takes her cue and begins taking out Ammit followers as quietly as she can. She watches as the floor sinks down into a glowing, purple hole. Two jackals claw their way out. They skitter up the stairs and bang on the door Layla and Steven must be behind. Ash leaps on them as they come crashing into the room. One goes for Steven and the other for Layla.

Ash growls and grabs the leg swinging it across the room. She moves in front of Layla and hears Steven screaming about a jackal. She knows Layla can’t see it and she’s in more danger. It lunges at Ash with gnashing teeth. She groans as she takes its nose and jaw in her hands. The wound in her side is seeping with blood now but she can’t think about that. She screams through the pain. She plants her feet and rips them in half. She watches its body disintegrate into sand. Panting, she looks at Layla. Before she can say a word, Steven falls out the window and the other jackal goes after him.

“Shit.” Her hand goes to her side. She needs a minute.

Layla tries her best to help Steven (in a completely different suit) fight something she can’t see. Marc takes over and gives chase to the jackal. Ash jumps down from the window and approaches Layla.

“Marc’s got the scarab and the jackal’s attention.” Layla tells her.

“Sounds like he’s handling it.” She takes a deep breath.

“How’s the wound?” Layla eyes the hand clutching Ash’s side.

“I’ll live.” Ash nods.

They walk back over to her moped in time to see Harrow kill a homeless man for the scarab. Fuck. She looks at Layla.

“Get somewhere safe.”

“Where are you going?”

“Cairo.”

Layla nods and drives off to get ready for a trip of her own.

Ash follows the sounds of Khonshu’s booming voice and sees Marc kicking a mirror. She’s no longer wearing her suit. Just jeans and a leather jacket.

“Yeesh. 7 years of bad luck, handsome.” She winces.

“You my travel buddy?” Marc doesn’t look at her.

“Don’t get all excited.” Ash rolls her eyes.

They board the flight as a couple which means Marc acknowledges her when they have eyes on them. When the flight attendant asks for their drink orders, Marc holds her hand while she talks about their extensive honeymoon trip. It gets them free champagne. Ash forces a smile and he brings her knuckles to his mouth. She turns her head and he looks past her. Otherwise, he focuses on everything but her. It stings a little since she thought they made progress last night before Steven woke up. Does he know about Steven? Would he care?

“You might wanna get some rest. Long flight.” She closes her eyes and rests her head against the window.

“Mmm.” Marc grunts and lets go of her hand.

The exhaustion from the fight and her healing stab wound causes her to fall asleep immediately. Marc sees his reflection on his watch. Well, not his. Steven’s.

“Be nicer to her.” Steven sighs.

“What’s it to you?” Marc snaps. He runs his hand over his mouth so no one sees him talking.

“She’s trying to help.” Steven frowns.

“Oh, you’re sweet on her, huh?” Marc shakes his head.

“She saved us. In the Alps.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s not trouble.”

“I don’t think she is. I think she’s—”

“Oh, my god, Steven.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you fucked her.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Look, she’s beautiful and great in bed—”

“You slept with her too?”

“She had information I needed.”

“But you’re married.”

“Separated. Divorced.”

“Not bloody yet. At least I wasn’t using her.”

“But you let her use you. Got you wrapped around her finger.”

“Shut up. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The flight attendant comes back.

“Can I get you something, sir?”

“Do you have a blanket…for my wife?” He swallows.

“Absolutely.” She disappears and comes back with the blanket.

“Thanks.” He takes it and drapes it over Ash.

They find a small hotel in Cairo. It’s the afternoon. The jet lag is messing with both of them and Marc didn’t sleep on the flight like Ash did.

“Get some sleep. You kinda look like shit.” Ash smiles.

“Thanks.” Marc scoffs.

“I’ll reach out to some people. White man leading a dig is gonna attract attention. See you later.” Ash leaves.

“Khonshu?” Marc knows he’s there.

“Yes?” The moon god appears.

“Pick her. She’s a better choice than Layla for my replacement.” A former CIA agent would know what to do. She would be able to handle it.

“She’s not an option.” Khonshu practically glides away.

Marc hangs his head.

“Marc, let me out,” Steven begs.

Marc ignores him. He can’t deal with Steven right now. He can’t be with Layla. Being near Ash makes him feel guilty as shit. And he lost the fucking scarab. He goes down to the hotel bar and buys three bottles of whiskey. In his room, he drains half the bottle to drown out Steven. Then throws the furniture around and kicks the mirror before covering with a bedsheet. Steven needs to shut the fuck up. He tosses the lamp, the chair, and anything he can get his hands on. He just wants to disappear. Then he rips off his clothes and passes out in the bed.

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #layla el faouly #marc spector x oc #steven grant x oc #layla el faouly x oc #the eye of the moon #fan fic #oc: ash rajul #marvel

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the-firebird69 · 7 months

Text

She was the wife of Michael too and is not gone of course no she died. She was not in the movie but she died from old age no that's what our son thinks. She was working moving ordinance and it exploded. And there are people who wonder how it happened and people who are checking the scene it was in an underground facility no it was in the 8th ring and will and Bill say they detected something and we think we know who it is but they have to check they said and they have equipment too they do think it's the ship and it's happened before

Thor Freya

Olympus

Okay guys this is what it is I've been talking about it so he went ahead and hit her now the guy has to pay he's been doing this to people for a long time and he thinks there's nothing to pay about it and we have to make him pay

Mike tew

I agree it was sending troops now they're going to take that son of a b**** down

Mac Daddy

I've been holding my breath I want a piece of them and now's the Time to take it I can't believe this happened we are all so sorry Michael too

Justin

You can't help but feel bad because we knew her and she was helping our friend and my son-in-law a lot and matter of fact I don't know what he's going to do without her doing it

Ken

We've all had a tough time here and I think I have to start working again and stop being a jerk to him and I do understand what people are saying people need to do these things to help and it was not nice of what he did and Tommy f will have to pay and we're going around saying what we'll do if something happens you shouldn't do it to me it's not nice she didn't do anything to you

Lily

She was true is I don't think it just charged for my ship I know where I was when it happened I want people to calm down

Tommy f

Who become as soon as your stupid ship is out of here you don't have any right to sit there like that and we're going to go after you it doesn't shield them from anything all these stupid assholes are underneath it doing all sorts of dumb things I'm surprised you survive this is to threaten you I threatening him and all s*** out of here you're such a jerk

Sherry

What time are you doing this to people and it's not even your fight you got involved now it's your fight Tommy f

Mike tew

I don't believe it you struck again it's time to go away you're ruining our realm you're such an a****** and you're drawing more fire on yourself right now in a time when the empire could have been stepping in you're such a fool I'm so tired of seeing you stupid people screw up things that would have stopped the empire now it's going to be a nuisance and a nightmare and I should explain he says you're going to go ahead hitting each other again in a big huge hit each other fast and the empire is going to be sitting pretty and you probably won't have your damn stone chips you're a stupid s*** tummy f

Preston

I suppose I see the point they go after me harder and the ship's harder it's a group involved I don't need and it's really happy fighting each other

Tommy f

Have found this on my table 50 times today one more time and my wife gets it now I don't want you around you're a piece of s*** and you're threatening all of us with it and that's why you did it and you're trying to kidnap women all over the place that I saw it you got to pay for this you piece of crap

Tommy Allen

This woman was helping me and Michael too had started to turn into a monster again and she kept doing it and was faithful doing it for some reason I don't really know why but she was good at it and a lot of people have been falling down so now I'm left without an auntie I have beat this s*** out of you Tommy f

Zues

I can use that and beat him up

Hera

We're going to come in there and beat the s*** out of you Tommy f we don't like you

Corks

Is too

Trumps

Good let's. I'm here to say I'm going to help handle what's going on I'll have to have women do it he says I get that usually they stay out of trouble and they want to now they appreciate the word too and the confidence

Mike tew

Olympus

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commonwealthoccurences · 1 year

Text

Back To Eden - ch5

Summary: Sole is a journalist and independent investigator who worked with the famous Detective Nick Valentine before the bombs dropped. They stumble out of Vault 111 with hazy memories of a case gone awry, a sense of desperate yearning, and the bitter experience of already having had to fight for their life to survive against the odds. What's a little nuclear wasteland to a (newly) seasoned investigator?

See masterlist for warnings.

Fic-long tags: Hurt comfort, angst, pining, flashback scenes, noir detective show meets post-apocalyptic chaos, Preston Garvey is a sweetheart, Sole is doing their best and living out of pure spite, slow burn (Nick/Sole), etc etc.

Sole had a hard time talking for a few days after that. There was a certain numbness that overtook them rather quickly. They found themself avoiding glances at the outside world whenever the door opened and they often laid with their back to the rest of the room; they simply faced the dirty wall and started listlessly or slept.

Which, they supposed, was okay. Their body needed rest, especially after they dragged their way to the back of the house to get Preston that key. He hadn’t opened it yet, according to Sturges, who often gave little settlement updates to their back whenever he came in to check on them. Apparently, he wanted Sole to be there; he still felt they had some ownership over the food and it wouldn’t feel right otherwise. Sturges had expressed once, under his breath, that Preston was too good of a man to have come from the wasteland.

The word had slipped out and Sole knew he hadn’t meant for them to hear the comment at all, but they’d fixated on it. The wasteland. That’s what Boston was now, and the rest of the world, too. Just a wasteland. They weren’t sure if they considered themself lucky in the fact that most of their memory from stumbling home had vanished. All they remembered was those brambles, everything else was a blur of shapes, nausea, and cold.

Sole thought about Nick Valentine a lot in those days they spent mentally isolating themself. They also thought about their parents a lot, about the fact that they hadn’t had much contact after college, but the loss still stung. They thought about the younger woman who managed the local Slocum Joe’s– she often gave Sole a free coffee when they worked on their articles in her shop. Their heart ached, far more than their muscles had. They’d lost everything. They’d never see that life again.

“No you– hold it like this. Move your thumb– not there. You’ve never held a gun before, have you?” Detective Valentine asked, hands on his hips.

Sole laughed and looked at the pistol in their hands. “Once, when I was six. My dad thought it would be a great idea to teach us, so he took us to the range. I fired it once and cried until we left and the entire car ride home.”

“Uh-huh. Explains why you’re an independent investigator and not a cop.” The last part was muttered under his breath, but didn’t go unheard.

“Watch it, Detective, that’s a can of worms you and I don’t want to open.”

“Of course. Now– what are you doing with your foot? I don’t think I’ve ever even seen someone stand like that before.”

Sole sighed and readjusted their stance until they got a half-pleased nod of assent from the Detective. They were watching him actively struggle with the urge to just jump in and adjust the way they were doing everything himself, but it was sort of an unspoken standoff. Sole wasn’t about to ask him to, and they didn’t think he would voice the request. “Okay. Place your finger on the trigger, but don’t squeeze yet.”

They complied, but felt a gross chill crackle its way down their spine. As he’d previously instructed, Sole took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an attempt to settle their nerves. “Good.” The Detective said quietly. “Now look where you’re aiming and when you’re ready, squeeze the trigger.”

For a few seconds, Sole simply stared forward at the target, eyes locked with the bullseye. Then, they squeezed, and the resulting BAM made them jump out of their skin. Quickly, they placed the gun down and raised their hands. “I hate it.”

Detective Valentine was obviously suppressing a laugh, and if Sole wasn’t so uncomfortable from shooting, they would’ve felt a bit smug at being able to make him laugh. Instead, they gave him their best attempt at a withering look. “I’m trying!”

“I know, I know, it was a… good attempt.” Sole could tell he was doing his best to be genuine, but noticed he swiftly turned away under the guise of pressing the button to push their target to the front.

Sole mimicked his earlier posture, putting their hands on their hips. “Am I blind, where’s the hole?”

The Detective leaned over to them. “I’m impressed, Sole.”

“What? Why?”

“You completely missed.”

Sole groaned. “You’ll get the hang of it. Come on, I’ll help this time.” The Detective offered.

Sole assumed their best approximation of the stance they had before, but Detective Valentine shook his head. “Here,” he said quietly, moving into their space behind them, “You need to keep your arms like this and your knees like this. Make sure you’re prepared for the recoil this time. Okay, breathe.”

Considering how close he was, it was a bit difficult to follow up on that last instruction. Taking a deep breath was nearly a mistake; the smell of cigarettes overwhelmed them, and while they didn’t mind the scent– they had become very familiar with it over the last three weeks– it was more than distracting. “Alright. Fire.”

Sole complied easily, squeezing the trigger with less hesitation than they’d had before, though they still screwed up their face in discomfort. It definitely helped to have the Detective there to handle the recoil. When they released the breath they took, Detective Valentien patted them on the arm and moved away. “See, you hit the target this time. You’ll get the hang of it.”

While Sole wasn’t pleased to spend the next two hours practicing their aim, they knew it was important. The Detective was right, when he said it was their job to have his back. It was his job, too, to have their back, but they weren’t worried about that. It was unfair for the Detective to have such an uneven dynamic and if something happened to him because they couldn’t do their job, they would never forgive themself.

Sole remembered that day clearly– doing target practice and hand-to-hand with Valentine. It was one of the first solid days that they’d spent together outside of paperwork and the bullshit that the BPD was throwing at them. Suddenly, they felt ridiculous, especially as they remembered their last memory they had with the Detective. He’d taught them so much just to keep them both alive in the face of the danger they had willingly put themselves in. He was the reason they were still around and it almost felt that to give up was to spit in his face. So when Sturges came in to check on them that day, they asked, “Would you mind if I sat outside for a bit?”

“Oh! Yeah, ‘course. We got one of those chairs with wheels from next door just in case you asked. It won’t be the most comfortable, but it’ll have to do.” Sturges was clearly pleasantly surprised as he busied himself with medical supplies Sole had no clue about.

They’d had many salves and bandages pressed over blistered skin and injections– Stimpacks, he’d called them– and creams that tried to fix their damaged blood vessels, different parts of them warmed and cooled, the feeling restored in different limbs and then taken away and restored again. They’d honestly lost track of everything that’d been done to them as they slept away the days in an attempt to rest. Sturges had said that was their one job, that sleeping was their way to heal their body, but it hadn’t been something they tried for. The exhaustion often crept up on them when they least expected it and they were out like a light within minutes.

Sole hadn’t complained a bit about all of the medical antics, though. Slowly but surely their persistent pains eased off into muscle aches, the blisters healed, their eyesight went back to normal, and the antagonistic itching that followed their damaged blood vessels dissipated– for now. What they were left with was a ridiculous amount of muscle weakness that Sturges informed them would be resolved with use, some balance issues, and the occasional migraine. Sure, it sucked, but in the grand scheme of things, they were damn lucky.

They waited quietly, patiently, for Sturges to walk next door and drag the chair over. They could’ve sworn they had their own office chair, well, in their office before the bombs went off, but then again a lot could change in two hundred years. And change it had.

When Sturges made it back, which he did rather quickly, he had Preston in tow along with the discussed chair. Sole cocked their head to the side, confused as to why they needed Preston. “Oh, don’t look at me. He saw me and asked for an update and y’know. Wanted to supervise.” Sturges chuckled and set the chair down next to them before moving to help them sit up.

“Does he hover like a worried mother duck around everyone or am I just that special?” Sole’s teasing was lighthearted and they made sure to flash Preston a grin to show it.

“Oh, that’s his job. You get used to it.”

“I think it’s nice. I may not know much about the world anymore but good people are good people, and from what I heard we’re now in short supply.”

“Well, you’re right about that.”

Preston supervised from the corner as Sturges helped Sole ease from their bed into the chair, pausing every few movements to let them catch their breath and soothe their aches. On the biggest movement, when Sturges had to practically lift them to actually get them into the chair, they saw Preston take a half-step forward, ready to jump in if needed. Once they were sat back and breathing hard from the exertion, he relaxed. “Just, uh, give me a minute. Feels like I aged every one of those two hundred years.” Sole gasped.

“Take your time.” Sturges said quietly.

Sole gave themself a minute to catch their breath and get comfortable, or as comfortable as they could manage. Eventually, they put their feet on the base of the chair. “Alright, let’s go, now or never.”

When Sole had emerged from the vault, they had no sense of dread or apprehension. They had no idea what was waiting for them on the other side– hell, they were barely conscious and functioning. Now it felt like they were finally facing the cards they had been dealt. Reluctantly and bitterly, sure, but they were facing it as Preston grasped the doorknob and began swinging the door open as Sturges pushed them closer. The post-apocalyptic apprentice doctor and his… General? And Sole. The survivor of a nuclear apocalypse and a roughly 226 year old one at that.

“Oh, c’mon old man, is that the best you’ve got?”

Sole was getting cocky and they knew it, but they didn’t care. At Detective Valentine’s insistence they were in the gym on a mat, finally going toe-to-toe in a little lighthearted practice fighting. Well, it had been lighthearted at first. Sole had always been a competitive person and the Detective was not taking kindly to being shown up for the first time ever by them, but they were exhilarated. Finally, they were good at something. Finally, they were actually better than him at something. Every duck and jab reaffirmed that they had a reason to be there, even though they felt like they were floundering in the field.

“Old man? Really? Am I even that much older than you?” The Detective rolled his eyes, but never fell out of his defensive stance.

Sole looked for an opening and saw none. They faked a punch and immediately went for the resulting weakness his defensive movement provided, but the Detective was quick on his feet despite being tired from their antics. They laughed, breathless. There was something about this that was unraveling all of the tension from the past handful of weeks. They were on even ground. Sole was holding their own.

The round of sparring lasted for several more creeping minutes until Sole finally got their chance and managed to sweep his feet out from under him. The Detective hit the mat with a soft oof and Sole didn’t hesitate to drop down next to him, exhausted but satisfied with the day’s events. Heavy breathing filled the silence of the room; it was nearly two in the morning and it had long been vacated, but apparently the Detective knew the owner. Sole hadn’t been surprised. “You did good today.” He said, between panting breaths.

“Thanks.”

Despite the comforting wear in their muscles and the sleepiness in their bones, the discomfort set back in the longer they were left unoccupied with catching their breath their only task. Sole squirmed a bit, unable to settle with the layer of sweat that had coated their skin. “Detective–”

“Nick. Or Valentine. Whichever.”

“Oh.”

A moment of silence.

“Uh, Nick…”

“Yeah?”

“I– this won’t sound rational, and I know that’s kind of what we’re supposed to do. Well, what you’re supposed to do– I’m new here, so I guess I get a pass. Anyway, I– I don’t know how to explain it but I just have a really bad feeling about Grayson.”

Dete– Nick shifted, too, from the sounds that Sole heard, but they didn’t look over at him. They waited, tense, to be ridiculed. They knew it was illogical. They didn’t have a reason, other than just not getting a good feeling from the guy and the weird thing he said to them in the elevator, but still. Something was up with him. Sole couldn’t say for sure that that was their guy, but there was definitely something wrong there.

“On the record I will tell you as your partner that we will follow the book and look for the evidence, but unfortunately we cannot keep a man detained due to a gut feeling, and that if nothing comes up we’ll simply release and keep an eye on him.”

“... and off the record?”

Valentine sighed. “Off the record, I would agree with you. Somethin’ isn’t right.”

Sole flinched away from the sudden influx of light as the door opened. Even though there were plenty of flaws in their house now, Sturges had made an attempt to seal it up to the point that they had forgotten it was summer. Something about that was so uncomfortable. Falling asleep when it was autumn, nearly winter, and waking up when it’s summer. Sole suppressed a gasp.

The neighborhood, as expected, was absolutely destroyed. No, that wasn’t true. They saw other settlers, the people from Preston and Sturge’s little clan that they hadn’t met yet, doing their absolute best to put it back together. Someone was hammering away at the house across the street, turning the rust and blue shell into a patchwork quilt of a shelter. Someone else was hard at work planting or harvesting some sort of gourd they had never seen before.

It was hard to see the progress, the survival and determination, past what Sole could only absorb as the wreckage of everything they knew. They knew the people that had lived across from them. They knew what the wife cooked for breakfast every morning (omelets for the adults, pancakes for the kids) and what her husband’s engine sounded like when he left for work (loud, at 5 am no less)and what time their twin boys left for baseball practice (3:30 PM). And now they were gone and no one knew.

And Sole was left with a fierce battle going on between the two halves of their brain and heart. They couldn’t see the point in going on when everything had crumbled while they were away. The neighbors across the street and the man next door and every person they had ever met was gone and all they had left to grasp at were memories and grief. And the heartbreaking thing was, they didn’t even know these people all that well. It was just the little things that made them know them, the things they never thought important. But their old life had slipped out of their grasp and suddenly the sound of that engine was so unbelievably important and 3:30 in the afternoon would never be the same.

But the last thing Sole was was a quitter. They’d fought to get to where they were before the War and they fought to survive everything that had gone down after… and they almost had. They were working on surviving that. And then the bombs started dropping and they couldn’t reach Nick over the phone in time and they were underground and they never got the chance to say goodbye. To him or to anyone.

And then they were here. On their front porch on the other side of the end of the world. And Preston placed his hand on their shoulder and asked in that soft tone he liked to use with them, “Would you like to go back inside?” And they realized they were crying again.

“No. No I– I think I’d like to just sit a while, if that’s okay.”

So Preston leaned back against one of the supports of their awning, his ridiculous looking gun propped up over one shoulder and his hat tilted forward to keep the sun out of his eyes. Sturges sat at the stoop, by their feet. Some of the other people from their group greeted the pair as they walked past, and a few even occasionally said hello to Sole. They weren’t quite sure if they said hello back, but the intention was there.

The sun crept forward into the sky as the minutes ticked into hours. Preston left eventually; he had things to do and a settlement to run– well, try to set up. But Sturges simply shifted in place every now and then to stay comfortable, and didn’t say a word. That is, until Sole finally piped up. “Sturges?”

“Yeah?”

“Does, uh– there used to be a small river, where the bridge leads to Sanctuary, there was a river underneath. I just– is it still there? Does the river still run?”

“Yeah, Sole. The river still runs, it’s still there.”

“The river still runs. And I’m still here.”

Sturges reached up and patted them on the knee. His expression was one they’d grown familiar with, a sort of warm sadness. The river still ran. There were people there, right in front of them, and they were fighting for their lives. They were running out of food and Sole had the key tucked into their pocket. “Sturges?”

“Yeah, Sole?”

“Can you take me to the bunker? Please.”

He turned and looked at them. Not a quick glance, but a bit of a non-judgemental stare, like he was studying them. And the warm sadness turned into a soft grin and he nodded, “Yeah, alright. Let’s go crack that thing open, shall we?”

A/N: There may not be an update for a hot minute as I finish up finals week and work on other important things I have going on. It shouldn't be too long though and I'll try to get another chapter out before the end of the week!

#back to eden #fallout 4 fanfiction #nick valentine #preston garvey #sturges #gender neutral sole survivor #hurt comfort #slow burn

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mylazyreactions · 2 years

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FO4 Companions react to playing FNAF

Cait: "Fuck this!" Every swear she knows under the sun is being said. Can barely make it past night 1. Puts the game down and refuses to continue. Will do fine just watching Sole play it instead. Thinks the lore is looney.

Codsworth: He hates it. Robotic animals going berserk, only to discover their possessed by dead children? He's gonna stick with Pac-Man thank you very much.

Curie: Cue Girlish Screams She much rather just watch someone else play, but does find the rhythm to each night a good watch. Tries to understand how the possession works and whether or not the animatronics count as A.I. Cries over the lore while trying to figure out how Michael survived.

Danse: Gets used to the jumpscares fairly easily. "Why are you making me play this pre-war game?" Just shut up and play man. Finds William deplorable and is genuinely grossed out by his ScrapTrap form. Man was never meant to mix with machine in such a way!

Deacon: “Oh man I remember that place. Always thought foxy was overrated.” Just roll your eyes at him. He finds the game a lot of fun otherwise. Oh no. That look in his face. No deacon you cant make your own Spring Lock suit. Quit asking.

Dogmeat: Just a dog. But he barks along when people scream, so he’s helping.

Hancock: Don’t let him play stoned. He just gets mad since his reflexes are slowed. Otherwise he has a great time. The lore pisses him off, but gets a kick out of seeing Will burn.

Maccready: *nervous sweating png* Of course he’s a brave guy he can totally han- NOPENOPENOPE he’s not drunk enough to deal with creepy ass robot bears in the dark. Like curie, he’s gonna be stuck just watching Sole play. Absolutely loathes William and totally doesn’t tear up at the bite of ‘83.

Nick: “I remember when that game came out. Good job getting it to work again, but I'll let you youngsters have your fun.” He doesn’t have any desire to play, but he might stop by to check out how everyone is doing. Might make a comment or two about how he’s a little run down like some of the machines.

Piper: Shes scared. Shes having fun. She died. Over and over. Eventually she gets a good rhythm, and asks Sole to bring the game to Diamond City so the kids can play. “Cmon Blue, are you absolutely sure this isn't based off a real story? Seems like something your corpo’s back then would do.” She never beat Sister Location.

Preston: Finds himself having quite a lot of fun. Greatly enjoys lore seeking and flat-out refuses help from Sole. At the end he finds the games quite depressing, but is glad he could enjoy the journey. “General, I hope you're not getting any ideas, but a little pizza place for people to relax isn't a horrible idea.”

Strong: Oh god please no. Great now he wants to fight Fred-Bear. Congrats.

X6: “I don’t think this is a good use of my time, but as you wish.” It gave him a small bit of adrenaline, but after the shock wore off, it was go time. Beats the games before anyone else and sets a speedy record. Was very curious about the whole possession thing and wonders if they would replicate it.

Ada: Please do not dress her as Bonnie for Halloween. Strong almost sent them flying over a house. Also please uninstall that creepy music from her files. What do you mean you didn’t install any music?

Longfellow: He’s too old and drunk for this creepy shit. The first jumpscare and he’s gone. He did find the 50-20 Custom Night to be hysterical purely for intensity reasons.

#fallout 4 #reactions #fnaf #cait #codsworth #curie #danse #deacon #dogmeat #hancock #maccready #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #strong #x6-88 #ada #longfellow

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palidan-sheep · 2 years

Text

Companions react to bringing a child along after Caption Kells tells you to take a child with you for a mission.

Cait- “better to whip them into shape now then later, makes life helluva lot easier.”

She’s pretty much in agreement with the Captain, based on how her life treated her.

‘teach them young-teach them right’

Cuire- “oh my, so little and fragile! We must make sure to not let any harm come to the child!”

While she adores the squire, she absolutely hates the idea of bringing a child into the heat of a fight.

She will remove the squire from any danger and constant check up on them.

(Per BB) Danse- “I’ll refrain from speaking my mind but rest assure Captain, the squire will return unscathed.”

Blatantly said he doesn’t like the idea of kids aboard the Prydwen. Though he takes some comfort in knowing that Kells trust you enough to take a squire.

Papa bear mode activated.

Deacon- “right, cause this is what we need. A child. Oh bless the brotherhood…”

Yet another reason to dislike the brotherhood! Literal bringing children along for the very bumpy and dangerous ride.

He cracks jokes with them and changes outfits to mess with them.

Gage- “Shit Boss, I ain’t ever gave a dam bout kids, don’t expect me to treat them like they a walk-in glass statue.”

He does not like nor hate kids so he’s neutral on this matter.

Acts like the squire is just another random person, he don’t care bout them.

Hancock- “ah, that’s a kid, we are bringing a kid into that building right? The one crawling with mutants? Wtf is the brotherhood on?!”

Just cause there’s a kid near by doesn’t mean he’ll refrain from taking his drugs, he’ll do it just outta sight tho.

He prefers if he can see the kid at all times, just makes things a little less tense knowing where the child is.

MacCready- “Reminds me of when I was young, to think that was so long ago.”

He feels his paternal instincts kick in but he can still cracks jokes with them and make things fun.

Tecahes them the word “Mungo” for shits and giggles.

Papa bear mode.

Nick- “my résumé grows long by the day *sigh* alright let’s get this babysitting show on the road!”

He doesn’t enjoy the idea of bringing a kid along for the ride and he’ll voice his concern ever chance he gets. Expect a lot of backhanded and passive aggressive comments.

He’s mainly concerned with the squire rather then the mission on hand.

Piper- “Blue! Why!?”

She already has Nat to worry about so she pretty good with them but still, why dump the responsibility of another child on her? Special when y’all about to walk into a feral infested building!

She’s between older sister and mama bear mode.

Preston- “you sure about this general? I’m sure they’ll be fine but still.”

Yeah he has his concern about them but give it a few mintues and he’ll be spouting off minutemen propaganda.

“Teach them young, teach them right” but like, trying to get them to think in ways other then the BoS.

X6- “I hate children.”

He’s a killjoy, he crushes the squires enthusiasm bu reminding them that they are easily killable and that no one cares if they are a child or not.

You don’t bring X6 along anymore when you have a squire.

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dumdumsun · 3 years

Text

And Dusk

A/N: Enjoy ❤️

Warnings: brief violence

Word Count: 1560

—————————————

Chapter 14: The Countdown

The walk from Elliott’s to Reginald’s took up enough of (Y/N)’s time. When she approached the door, she hastily wiped her tears before pushing the front door open. The house was wrapped up in its usual silence. It never really made noise unless she was home, after all. Rushing up to her room, she locked the door and set her puppy on the ground before changing her clothes. She avoided looking at Mr Pennycrumb as she moved about her room, throwing on articles of clothing and pulling on shoes. Opening her wardrobe, she dug into the pocket of one of her coats and pulled out a folded piece of paper. The note was pressed to her lips as she shut her eyes, a moment for the world to freeze only for her, before slipping it into her pocket. With a deep breath, she spun around to meet the expectant stare of her beloved pet.

“Nothing’s ever easy, huh, Penny?” She sniffled, kneeling down beside the bed to watch him lean down and lick her fingers. “This was supposed to be my easiest relationship, baby, and now I gotta leave you… I know we’ve only known each other for less than two months, but I’ll remember every single moment we spent together, bud. I wanted so badly to watch you grow up, to finally grow into that big personality of yours. But I’ll need you to be good for Mom… because we both know how Dad feels about you being around.”

The puppy barked and licked her face, clearing her tears as he did so. She giggled and kissed the top of his head.

“I’ll never forget you, Mr Pennycrumb. You absolute angel. I love you so much.” Standing to her feet, she slowly approached her bedroom door, giving the entire room one last look. She wasn’t attached to it. Not in the slightest. But there was one little savior who, sitting on her bed and tilting his head, she would forever be connected to. “I’m leaving you in the best hands possible. Goodbye, baby.” She breathed and shut her door. Covering her mouth, she sped down the staircase and towards the front door.

“(Y/N)?! Where have you been?!”

Shit.

Wiping her tears away yet again, she turned to her mother and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I-I...” She croaked. Grace’s frown softened before she crouched down in front of her.

“Honey? Is everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine… I just, uh… I have a really bad headache and it’s a little overwhelming.”

“Oh… I can get you some-”

(Y/N) quickly shook her head. “It’s fine. I was going to head into town, get some fresh air.”

“Well, that’s fine, hun, but you cannot run off like that. You nearly gave us a heart attack! You can’t do that to me. Y-You just can’t!”

“I’m sorry, Mom-”

“Especially right now… I-I wanted to talk to you.”

I don’t have time, I don’t have time.

“Have you,” Grace sighed and looked away, a very clear internal battle going on within her. “Sweetheart, do you notice anything about your father? Anything strange?”

Furrowing her brows, (Y/N) stepped closer. “What… do you mean…?”

“I mean with his work. Do you know anythin’ about what he’s doin’? With the meetings, the secrecy. I-I know it isn’t fair to ask this of you, but I… I-I need to know.”

(Y/N) glanced to the side as she weighed her options. She could always lie to Grace, tell her that she had no idea what Reginald was up to, his plan to kill the president. But she knew her mother deserved so much better than yet another lie from another person she trusted dearly. So, she lifted her head and nodded, hoping it was enough. It seemed as if that were the case, because Grace took a deep breath and enveloped the girl in a hug. (Y/N) sniffled and held her mother tight.

“If I find anything dangerous goin’ on, I’m leaving, (Y/N). I’m leavin’ and I’m takin’ you with me.”

The young girl widened her eyes at these words. “You what?”

“You’re my daughter, (Y/N), adoption be damned. I promised you I would take care of you no matter what. And if removin’ you from Reggie’s life will do that, then I will do what I have to.”

“And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I love you so much, Mom…”

“I love you, too, hun.”

(Y/N) never wanted to get attached, she never wanted to build happiness like this for herself, because she knew it’d eventually get ripped from her. One way or another. Still, it was a fun ride while it lasted. Pulling away from the hug, she sniffled again and rubbed her nose. Grace’s smile was full of so much care, adoration and unconditional love that (Y/N) had to step away to let herself breathe. “Well… I’m going now. Um… Mom? Could you do something for me while I’m gone?”

“Anythin’.”

“Please, take care of Mr Pennycrumb. I don't know what I’d do if something happened to him.”

Quietly chuckling, Grace nodded and clasped her hands together as the girl opened the front door. “I promise, only if you promise to be careful. I need you here with me, darlin’.”

“I promise, Mom.”

Stepping out of her home- of Reginald’s house, (Y/N) glanced down at her watch.

Thirty minutes. Shit!

Spinning on her heel, she sprinted her way in the direction of the alleyway. Her chest heaved, her breath was labored, and her arms pumped as her legs worked restlessly to take her to her destination. Locals scowled and gasped when she pushed past them, the girl calling out multiple apologies over her shoulder after the fact. She nearly ran past a corner she had to round, skidding to a stop and turning back around. When she did, she was met with a pair of dark brown eyes. “Preston!”

“You’re coming with me.” He huffed and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her in the opposite direction, back where she started. “I’ve been looking all around Dallas for you. I talked with your dear father and he said you didn’t mean what you said.”

“I don’t have time for this! Let go of me!” (Y/N) thrashed in the hold he now had around her waist. Preston growled and pinned down the arm she had just freed from his grasp.

“You never have time for me, (Y/N)! That’s the problem with you women! You always want the world to revolve around you! Well, you’re just gonna have t’make some time for me! Right now!”

“Goddammit! Let go of me, you little shit!” She shrieked. She freed her arm once again and reared her elbow back towards his face, but he quickly moved his head away to dodge it. The next second, she heard a grunt, and Preston’s hold on her was gone. Spinning around, she saw the boy on the ground, unconscious, blood dribbling from his nose. “What the hell?”

Her eyes moved up and widened at the sight of Lila dusting herself off. Her expression was almost unreadable to (Y/N), but she detected exhaustion. The two stared at each other for a beat before they both nodded. Lila turned her gaze forward and ran off in (Y/N)’s opposite direction. The young girl let out a breath, took one last look at Preston, and continued her sprint to the alleyway.

Arriving there, she almost crashed into the brick wall. “I’m here, I’m here!” She breathlessly called out to Five and Luther. “I’m here- Ew, what the fuck?!” She yelped, her foot almost landing in a splatter of vomit. Beside it was a groaning Klaus, the man muttering something about a strange dream.

“Thank god,” Five clenched his jaw and checked his watch. “Anymore last minute arrivals?!”

“Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?!” (Y/N) hissed and made her way over to the seething Five, who only spared her a glance before looking around the alleyway again.

“We’ve got a minute left.” Luther muttered and smashed his fist against the top of the closed dumpster.

Klaus groaned and placed his hands over his face. “What’s going on, guys? Are we going somewhere?”

“It was a simple task,” Five ranted as he paced the alleyway. “It was a simple task! All we had to do was be here. Didn’t have to fight a giant sea monster, no. Any army of mutants? Nein!”

(Y/N) checked her watch, sighing as their last remaining minute ticked away. Heading to the opening of the alley, she moved her head from left to right, hoping to see the last of her siblings rushing to their way home. But alas, no one arrived and she could hear the three behind her yelling at each other. The sound of clicking got her attention and she turned around to see everyone watching the briefcase.

“Goddammit.” Five muttered before bending down and picking up the briefcase by the handle, flinging it into the air. With a zap and a whoosh, their ticket to 2019 disappeared in a bright blue portal. The four watched as the portal disappeared, much like the first time they were left in this timeline. “We were that close.”

“That close…” (Y/N) sighed.

—————————————

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 3 years

Note

Not sure if this has been done but if not I believe it’s time for a beach ask-isode (sorry thatwasreallybad)

Anyways! What does everyone (Maxson and gang leaders included) do while at the beach? What kind of suits do they wear?

(Ah yes, only a wedding post would top this masterpiece. Also this is going to be more on the Pre-War! Or Modern! Au spectrum since yknow..radioactivity)

Cait:

•Abosuletly HATES the beach.

•Bitches about literally everything. Sand? Fucking despises it. Getting wet? No thanks. THE SMELL?? Sis, no.

•Gets burnt AF as well. Miss Ma'am ends up looking like a boiled crab after maybe a couple minutes out in the sun.

•The only thing she enjoys is checking people out.

•either way, she goes and wears something comfortable. A bandeau and some shorts are her go to.

Curie:

•Rather likes the beach.

•She loves collecting seashells and seeing if she can capture hermit crabs (which she promptly returns to their home after taking a picture)

•She would wear one of those one pieces complete with a cute skirt and an oversized sun hat.

•SUNSCREEN ENFORCER

Danse:

•Has one helluva time running. As a matter of fact, he loves nothing more than to run on the beach at sunrise....however this is more of a social event we're talking about-

•Passive aggressively admonishes his "friends" to wear sunscreen.

•Will actually partake in alcohol is it's presented. Make sure he doesn't overdue it- Hancock is patiently waiting for him to get lit and do something stupid so he can have blackmail material. DRUNK DANSE WILL PROVIDE PLENTY OF IT.

•wears tragically boring red and orange swim trunks and that's it. Doesn't understand why Cait keeps whistling at him when he takes his shirt off.

Deacon:

•He's the type to go sun tanning and end up forgetting his sunglasses are still on. Oh well, just an excuse to keep wearing them.

•Definitely instigates water fights.

•Wears the most outlandish, neon green speedo. Scars the masses.

Gage:

•Loves the beach but will bitch about it being too hot nonstop.

•Mainly just floats out into the open water on a lounge float and sips lemonade. No one is stupid enough to try to play a prank on him anyways- they already know he isn't above drowning someone over being thrown into the water unexpectedly.

•wears a horrendous green muscle shirt and yellow swim trunks.

Hancock:

•Life of the party, as always.

•Blasts music, indulges in whatever drugs he can and has an overall wonderful day filled with debauchery.

•Provided the beach is okay with it, he'd prefer to go nude. However if that isn't an option, he'll rock an American flag speedo.

Macready:

•I know it's soft, but he prefers to bring Duncan along. So no terrible parties for Mac, unfortunately.

•He makes sandcastles and plays "soldiers" with his little boy before going with Curie to collect seashells for Duncan to add to his collection.

•For once ditches the hat and rocks a Grognak themed ensemble. Duncan hates it and often pretends he doesn't know him.

Mags:

•As a woman who enjoys the finer things, she spends a little extra money to "party up" her beach time in an expensive cabana.

•Prefers to sit out and relax, getting some sun as she smokes as many cigarettes as humanely possible and knocks back bottles of wine.

•Wears a pair of those really nice, oversized sunglasses and a simple black bikini...and probably those ridiculous platforms.

Mason:

•Despite his wealth, he "roughs" it and spends his beach time like a normal person...well..as normal as Mason can get.

•He spends the majority of his time in the water like a damn idiot, swimming until he gets sick from accidentally ingesting too much salt water.

•Very, VERY tempted to flip Gage's float over.

•Wears flamboyant flamingo themed swim trunks.

Maxson:

•Another one of the pathetically rich, buuut he doesn't overdo it. Sure, he may also rent out a nice cabana but he spends the most of his time underneath an umbrella reading whatever novel he's invested in at the moment.

•Will sit there and read for as long as possible, maybe only breaking to play a game of volleyball with Danse and Preston. Even then, his top priority is to get back to either reading or jotting down the next key points for a future meeting.

•Wears some stupid designer like burberry. It's hideous but he doesn't care.

•uhhhh, don't entice him with alcohol either, it's not a good idea.

Nick:

•Loves going to the beach right as the sun is setting. He gets a small window of time to read before being able to fully appreciate how beautiful the scenery is as the moon rises.

•Keeps an eye on Hancock so the dude doesn't do anything too stupid, but pretends to "party" so Hancock doesn't catch wind that he's being supervised.

•He's the perpetual "parent" of the group and he accepts it.

•Wears a matching shirt and trunk set, usually in black.

Nisha:

•Surfs and proceeds to beat the shit out of Mason with her board when she's finished.

•Will actually go smoke and drink with Mags and have a decent time until they inevitably hit a snag and decide to not talk to each other for weeks again.

•Tries to instigate fights with Gage fueled by her hatred for him.

•Wears an expensive wetsuit.

Piper:

•Enjoys taking nice pictures of her friends and herself at the beach.

•Also joins in the volleyball game whenever she is done with said pictures.

•Gets bored easily and decides to go back to working on her next article...until she gets bored of that and decides to go swim.

•Wears a nice red and white polka dot two piece and some red sunshades.

Preston:

•Is the unofficial life Gaurd. Like no shit, he is on a damn mission. He'll fight a shark if he has to.

•Plays fetch with Dogmeat whenever he finally calms down.

•May even go scuba diving, just depends. He loves seeing the fish and different things in the water.

•Wears a cute pair of sunflower swim shorts.

X6-88:

•Doesn't show up. He hates the beach.

•Okay fine, if you force him into it...

•He'll more or less just sit where the waves crash onto shore.

•If shaun is there though, it's a whole new story. Oh yeah. If his best buddy Shaun is there, you bet your ass he will happily do whatever the kid wants him to. Piggy back ride? Right away. Go prank Maxson? In a heartbeat.

•Wears a grey and black striped pair of shorts.

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dadsbongos · 3 years

Text

late night for a sinner

Movie/Game/Show: The Devil All The Time Dynamic: Arvin Russell/Reader Warnings: religious overtones cuz it’s this movie, described and enacted violence (against teagardin), preston teagardin (and all his sexual assault-y/manipulative bs) Notes: uhm people got married at like 20 in the 50s and i assume arvin is about 20 so no i will not apologize for making you his wife, my country-accent writing is bad(?) idk Summary: Arvin’s a protective man, especially when it comes to those he loves. ~~~

“Somethin’ ‘bout that preacher don’t feel right,” (Y/n) murmured to her husband as they stood outside the doors of the church, “Gives me a shiver right up my spine.”

Arvin nodded along to her words, watching as his grandmother and sister shook hands with Preston Teagardin - fancy name for a guy like him. A guy who gave women chills. He reached into his dress pants pocket and plucked out a cigarette before placing it between his lips, “Watch yourself around him, darlin’.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for Lenora, too,” (Y/n) crossed over the creaky boards of the church's stoop as people began exiting, her hands coming out for the man’s tie, “Did you loosen this durin' the sermon?”

“Too tight,” he let the woman adjust his tie, “You know how I feel ‘bout comin’ to these things.”

“I know, I know - hey, I don’t like comin’ either, but it means a lot to Ms. Emma and Lenora,” pulling back from the tie, (Y/n) placed her hands on Arvin’s shoulders, “‘Sides, someone’s gotta watch for that blasted preacher, and I think we’re the only ones who will.”

Removing the cigarette from between his lips, Arvin leaned over to kiss his wife’s forehead, pulling away to ask, “You take my light outta my pocket when you pressed my pants this morning?”

“Maybe I did,” she shrugged, grinning, “Maybe even I think you shouldn’t be smokin’ outside a church.”

“Maybe,” Arvin nodded, “Maybe.”

Emma and Lenora finally came out of the church and started towards the family’s truck, the two women got into the back with Arvin and (Y/n) getting into the front to finally head home. Lenora leaned forward as her brother started the truck, “You shoulda been in there for the goodbyes.”

“Oh?” turning her head and leaving her cheek pressed to the headrest, (Y/n) quirked a brow at the teenager, “What happened?”

“Reverend Teagardin said he’s interested in meeting you,” Lenora beamed at her sister-in-law.

“Just her?” Arvin pulled out of the church parking lot, “Seatbelt, Lenora.”

“I got it, I got it,” the girl waved off before returning to her previous conversation, “But yeah, just (Y/n). He was talkin’ about putting together a church choir. Thinks (Y/n) would have a pretty voice.”

“She’s got a pretty voice but she ain’t singin’ for no church choir,” Arvin’s brows furrowed, white-knuckling the steering wheel at the mere idea of that damned preacher trying to get close to his wife, “Not in that man’s church choir.”

“Let the girl speak for herself,” Emma cut in, “Thought I raised you better than that.”

Pursing his lips, Arvin turned to (Y/n) for a split second before returning his stare to the road, “Sorry, love.”

“It’s okay, baby,” she looked back to her sister-in-law, “You singin’ in the choir, Lenora?”

“I’d love to try.”

Clenching her jaw, (Y/n) thought over her choices. Leave Lenora to sing in that choir - leave her sweet, naive little sister-in-law in that preacher’s hands for far longer than was typical or wanted… Or, suck it up and sing for the bastard.

“I’ll sing with ya, sweetheart.”

Arvin sighed quietly, glad none of the women in the car heard him over the rumbling of the truck’s old engine. To distract himself, and by proxy the women in the car, he suddenly changed the topic, “This damn old truck. Gonna hafta fix it up or take it in.”

“You’re gonna take it in?” (Y/n) tilted her head.

“Thing’s old; I’ll do as much as I can, darlin', but sometimes there’s only so much I can do. You know that.”

“I’ll need to go with you,” the truck jumbled with the rocky bumps of their home’s pull-in, “Pick up a few things for dinner.”

Lenora felt her heart warm and lips quirk into a smile at her brother and sister-in-law. They weren’t so into the church as her and Grandma, in fact - Lenora’s certain they only played along to please her and Grandma, but watching them was nice. Nothing to play along to, just a simple, pure expression of adoration between the couple. Arvin was never a man known for something as soft and tender as love but (Y/n), since the two were in grade school, was easily able to pull it out of him.

From high school sweethearts into married lovers. It was overjoying to know someone else was looking after Arvin.

“I’ll check up on Mr. Earskell and be right out.”

“No, no, (Y/n),” Emma shook her head, taking the woman’s hand as she was assisted out of the truck, “I’ll handle things. You and Arvin go on and stay out here.”

She didn’t bother fighting against the older woman, she was the matriarch of the family - she was just the rule maker. It was only fair.

“You don’t hafta keep callin’ em Miss and Mister,” Arvin came out and around to the hood of the truck, “They’re part a’ your family now.”

“Feels improper,” (Y/n) rebuffed, standing beside her husband, “I’m just thankful they’re lettin’ me stay here.”

“And why wouldn’t they?” he knew why she felt that way - her own family was insufferable and he could barely stand being around them for a dinner - he couldn’t imagine having to live with them.

“Let’s not open that can of worms today, huh, love?” (Y/n) placed her hands on her hips as she watched her husband look over the truck’s interior and drag over his tools and oil.

“Don’t joke ‘bout that, love,” despite his words, Arvin was smiling slightly, “Poor fishermen work hard to get those worm cans.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” she sarcastically relented, peeking over the man’s shoulder, “Wish I knew anything to help you.”

“I could teach you a thing or two.”

“Maybe not now, baby.”

Which, of course, was code for ‘I’d rather not. Ever.’ but politely.

There was silence between the married couple as Arvin worked until he sighed and planted his hands on each side of the open hood, head hanging low as he murmured, “You’re really goin’ to that choir?”

“We both know I gotta be there for Lenora.”

“I appreciate that, but I’ll still be worried to hell ‘bout you,” he turned to face his wife, restraining himself cupping her cheeks and smearing grime over her, “Both a' you,” then he finally admitted as to why he was so apprehensive, “I’ve been watchin’ him.”

“You what…?!” she whisper-screamed, coming in closer to her husband, “Arvin Eugene Russell, you been what?”

“Watchin’ him,” Arvin almost regrets the admission at the sight of his wife’s shock, “He’s a no-good-sonofabitch, (Y/n). Messin’ around with a young girl behind his wife’s back. She’s good to him, (Y/n), she cooks him dinner and she does her best to keep him happy. He’s no good to her. He’s no good, at all.”

(Y/n)’s brows furrow, “Cheatin’ on his wife?”

“A girl from Lenora’s class. He’s worse than a cheater,” he turned back to the hood of the truck and quickly said, “We’re takin’ it in.”

“Why haven’t you said anything yet?”

“Nobody will ever believe me, (Y/n), you know that. Everybody here loves that damn radio bullshitter.”

Nodding quietly, (Y/n) fisted a hand in her skirt before turning towards the home’s door, “I’ll tell Lenora we’re goin’.”

The topic is ultimately dropped as they leave into town. As they take the truck in for the shop and as they pick out items for dinner that night and even on the walk home. Reverend Preston Teagardin didn’t come up again, neither did his affairs or his disgustingly, sickeningly low age preference for said affairs.

They weren’t the only people in town on watch of their new preacher in town, they were just another young couple walking home.

Even as dinner passed and time for rest came - as they pressed into bed and huddled together in the cold night. Teagardin was temporarily forgotten, pushed to the backs of their minds as they slipped into slumber.

And when Arvin darts up from bed after another nightmare over finding his father’s body that fateful night, (Y/n)’s thoughts are solely on her husband. Bringing him back into the present, where he’s not in the woods finding his father knelt down in front of their makeshift church but instead in bed with his loving wife. With his sister down the hall. His grandmother at the end of the corridor and his great-uncle's own room across from theirs. He’s in a home that isn’t going anywhere - he’s with people who won’t leave him, not any time soon anyway.

It’s not until the next day, after Lenora’s first day back at school for the week had finished and her daily visit to Hellen Hatton-Laferty was over, that Teagardin even peeked back into the couple’s brains.

“If that sonofabitch touches you or Lenora, tell me,” Arvin whispered to his wife, hands holding hers tightly before she went into the church for choir practice, “I’ll make sure ain't got no hands to touch you, or Lenora, or any other unlucky woman.”

“I’ll come right to you, honey,” (Y/n) was quick to confirm for her husband, “Promise.”

“Good,” he cups his wife’s cheeks and pulls her into a tender forehead kiss before going to his sister and giving her a tight hug, “Be the loudest one there, got it?”

Lenora chuckled quietly, patting her brother’s shoulder, “You know I can’t do that.”

“You can.”

Shaking her head, (Y/n) goes up the stairs and pulls one of the double doors open, “You just shouldn’t, ain’t that right, Arvin?”

A teasing shrug and he’s walking off towards the car while Lenora follows her sister-in-law up and into the church.

Teagardin is sitting in one of the pews with his back turned towards the two women.

There’s nobody else in the church despite having been told this was the meeting time. It’s silent. Preston still hasn’t turned to the two.

Lenora is fidgeting beside (Y/n) the longer the man stays quiet. The younger girl nervously bunching the skirt of her dress in her fists. Her brows drawn tight in confusion and lips pressed into a thin line.

(Y/n) steps forward, ignoring the nerves urging her to run and encouraging her knees to buckle underneath the weight of her body, “We’re here, preacher.”

His head lifted, a smile coming over his lips, an unnatural smile - one she’d imagined on the devil when he tricked another soul into his claws. Preston comes to a full stand and approaches the women, “I didn’t expect both of you to come.”

“I wanted to support Lenora.”

“How wonderful.”

“Preacher’s dirty.”

“What?”

(Y/n) sighed, sitting up in bed and looking down at her husband and whispering into the night air, “Teagardin. He’s just as dirty as you said.”

Immediately, Arvin was also sat up, no longer tired and now entirely focused on his wife, “What happened?”

“Tried touchin’ Lenora ‘til I stopped him. Grabbed me. I got us out of there and now Lenora’s tryin' to figure out how to tell Ms. Emma.”

Arvin stood out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants over his boxers, slipping on a shirt and his hat before heading to the bedroom door and slipping out of the room. (Y/n) followed after, eyes wide and brain springing into panic as she watched him tug on his shoes. Hurriedly, the woman put her shoes on as well while Arvin snuck out of the home, her continuing to follow after him.

Once they were in the car, (Y/n) turned to Arvin as he pulled out of the driveway, “What the hell are you doin’? It’s late, you can settle this tomorrow, can't ya?”

“No. It don’t matter if he’s with his wife or at the church, I’m puttin’ that bastard in his place. I hope that woman leaves his ass,” he shook his head, “Rotten fuckin’ bastard.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

The man was silent as he drove towards where he knew the Teagardin residence was. Every few minutes he would take off his cap and run a hand through his matted hair - if he could force himself to do so, he could almost pretend this was a nice drive with his wife. A simple late-night cruise through town with the love of his life, but then he would remember exactly why they were on a late-night cruise. A peek at (Y/n) would remind him, she must be frightened to all hell - it must’ve been awful to be in that church. Be near that rotten man.

And Arvin’s rage was freshly re-lit.

“Is this the right time?” she remembered each time her husband had repeated the phrase from his father, it was usually enough to sway him from acting out at that moment.

“Best time there is. He’s asleep - won’t be expectin’ us.”

(Y/n) settled into her passenger side seat, turning her head to stare out the window, “How’re you gonna get him out?”

Arvin was silent once again, fingers tight against the steering wheel as they pulled up to the bend at the end of the preacher’s street. He got out of the car and stormed towards the Teagardin home with (Y/n) trailing after.

It wasn’t long until Preston came stumbling out of his home with Arvin banging on the front door. Cynthia was out soon after her husband, clinging to the door frame.

“Late night for a sinner, kids,” Preston rubbed at his eyes, “Can this wait ‘til the mornin’?”

“You try touchin’ Lenora?” Arvin was blunt, he didn’t like sugar coating and he didn’t like the people who did it. Turning, he gestured to (Y/n), “Tried touchin’ my (Y/n)?”

Immediately, Preston’s eyes widened, “Now, now, I- I didn’t do nothin’ to those two.”

“Callin’ my wife a liar?”

Cynthia looked between her husband and the younger couple on her lawn, “What’s this about, Preston?”

“You just go inside now, Cynthia!” the preacher called back to his wife, “These two are full of delusions!”

“Arvin, let’s just head home now - you can take care of this tomorrow…”

Shaking his head, Arvin only approached the older man further, “My wife ain’t no liar. And those hands ain’t free of sin.”

“Go inside, Cynthia!” Preston shouted at his wife once again before turning back to the other man, “You won’t say nothing. I will have your lives ruined. Who will the town trust? Me, or two scruffy children who married straight outta high school?” he gives a forced chuckle, shaking his head and pointing at (Y/n) with a shaky hand, “Your wife… she- she… your wife is delusional. She’s crazy.”

Arvin Russell had been fighting nearly his entire life - he learned from his father and he continued on far after his father passed. Preston Teagardin had never been an athletic boy nor had he been confrontational by any means, preferring to hide in the shadows and smile his way out of trouble.

It wasn’t a mystery as to how Arvin managed to land Preston on the hard ground, chest pressing into the dirt and hands tightly wound behind his back in Arvin’s hold.

He didn’t know what he was looking for in the man. He didn’t know what he wanted from the preacher. He couldn’t kill the bastard - he still had a sister and wife to look after when his grandmother and uncle could no longer. Was it admission? Was it a promise to not even look at the women of Knockemstiff? It wasn’t an apology, he knew that - because there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d be giving out forgiveness.

“You take back what you said,” Arvin grunted out, pushing his body harshly into Preston’s back and hoping it’d hurt as much as when boys did it to him on the playground, “You take back what you said about my wife, you hear me?”

“She’s crazy!”

Arvin took a hand into the preacher's hair and smushed his face deep into the dirt, “If I- “ when Teagardin’s whining got too loud, Arvin let his head up before roughly smashing it back into the ground, “Fuckin’ listen when I talk. You listenin’?” he waited for a nod of confirmation before continuing, “If I even hear your name in the same sentence as my wife’s or my sister’s, I’ll bash your fuckin’ brains in, hear me?”

“Arvin!” (Y/n) finally screamed out to her husband, hands landing on one of his arms and pulling, “Arvin, you let him go!”

“He deserves this, (Y/n)!”

“I know, but dammit Arvin, you’re gonna get the sheriff on you, let’s go home!”

Giving one last thunk of Preston’s skull into the ground, Arvin stood and kicked the man’s ribs before nodding at Cynthia with a brief ‘goodnight ma’am’ and returning to the car.

“That was a dumb thing you just did, Arvin Russell,” (Y/n) scolded, rather lightly, as her husband drove.

“I don’t regret a damn thing about it, (Y/n) Russell.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” she reached over and snatched his cap before fixing it over her own head, “I’m proud my husband cares so much.”

“Least I could do for the woman of my dreams.”

#arvin russel x you #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel x reader #arvin russell x you #before you start about how women were treated poorly and arvin speaking over yn would be normal in the 50s i want you to know #i literally don't care cuz i wrote it :) and i leik feminism so yeah :)

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that-blue-vault-dweller · 3 years

Note

how do you think the crew would feel if sole was a dentist? god knows the commonwealth needs it. *cough cough macready cough cough*

Cait - Thinks that's great for her and other people. When F!Sole offers to look over Cait's teeth, she does not particularly want to let her examine her. But when F!Sole promises not to hurt her, Cait lets her have a look. Unfortunately, several of them are chipped pretty badly from her time out fighting, and F!Sole asks Cait if she wants her to fix them. However, Cait declines, believing that since they have looked this way for so long, she might as well keep them the way they are.

Piper - Is very pleased to hear that, and she asks F!Sole to give Nat an examination. She actually even gets examined herself since Nat refuses to do it unless she sees that it is safe. Unfortunately, Piper has several small cavities from her sweets habit, and F!Sole has to take care of them. Piper does not exactly react wonderfully but tries to swallow the pain. Nat is not dumb at all, though, and Nat absolutely refuses to have her teeth looked at afterward since she saw how painful it was.

Curie - Is extremely happy as soon as she hears about it, and she immediately requests an examination. F!Sole is very happy to tell her that she is completely clean outside of just a bit of plaque. Curie is very relieved to know that her hard work in attempting to keep up her teeth has been paying off.

MacCready - Does not want any part of the examination, but she finally convinces him after a long while of pestering him. His teeth are horridly crooked, some are chipped, they're blooming with cavities, and F!Sole is honestly at a loss as to what is even keeping them in his head at this point. She insists on doing work to him so that he does not end up without any teeth at all, and that takes about a month or two of convincing.

Deacon - Is pretty happy to have a dentist on hand, and he asks her for an examination. After all, even though he's always changing and fixing his face, he has never really found someone to help him with his teeth until she came along. He only has some plaque and they are a bit crooked. He decides that he doesn't want to change the position of his teeth since it would be too long of a process, but she helps him quite a bit with the plaque situation. At the end, he decides that he'll go to her and let her look at them again soon.

Codsworth - Already knew she was a dentist, but is very proud of her nonetheless. He has no teeth to speak of, but he is very happy that she can repair and clean the teeth of the ordinarily unsanitary wastelanders that they come across. He excitedly tells anyone nearby who will listen about her feats in dentistry. He also helps her with any examinations she does, handing her tools if she needs them.

Hancock - Thinks that it might be beneficial to some people, but he feels that his teeth are a little beyond fixing. However, she offers to look nonetheless, and he allows her to. To both of their surprise, his teeth are not quite as bad as he thought. They're pretty radiated, and there are many cavities, but she does the best that she can. When she is done, they look a lot better, and he makes sure to come back and get them checked regularly.

Danse - Is very interested when she first brings it up, and if she offers him an examination, he takes her up on it. He believes that it could be beneficial to ensure the good upkeep of his teeth. He has a few chipped teeth and his teeth are coated pretty heavily with plaque. However, she gives him a pretty good cleaning job, and he is pretty shocked at how much different his teeth feel. He ultimately decides that he likes it, and he decides to let her look at them periodically.

Preston - Thinks that it could help a lot of people, and he tentatively asks for a checkup if she does not mind. She happily agrees, and she examines him. Fortunately, he only has some plaque buildup and the rest of his teeth are mostly intact and doing well. She gives him a quick cleanup, and he is as good as new.

Valentine - Is very pleased to know that there is a dentist in this broken down Commonwealth. He knows that they could definitely use some teeth-fixers. While he does not exactly have traditional human teeth, he lets her take a look at his if she wants. They're pretty much just plastic that is made to resemble teeth, and outside of a little wear and tear on the molars from him grinding his teeth a little, his dental health is rather good.

X6-88 - Is pleased that there is someone in the Commonwealth with proper understanding of what teeth are meant to look like. However, when she offers an examination, he does not particularly want her picking at his mouth and prodding around inside of it, but he finally decides to allow her to after she insists. His teeth are actually very clean from his time at the Institute, and she does not really have to do anything to them at all.

Dogmeat - Does not understand the whole thing, but he is not particularly thrilled when she lifts his lips to examine his teeth. He is patient with her, but he does not really like it at all. However, she always gives him a bone at the end, and he decides that the prodding at his mouth is well-worth the reward at the end.

Strong - Does not understand what a dentist is. When she explains, he is not impressed at all. He thinks that it is dumb to look at people's teeth. Why bother with them? They're just for chewing up food. And when she offers to look inside of his mouth, he is very displeased and somewhat angry. He tells her quickly that she does not need to look inside of his mouth and that is absolutely ridiculous.

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nukacoola · 3 years

Note

Companions react to Danse stepping out of power armor for the first time!

Cait:

She would look Danse up and down very obviously and grin which would make him extremely uncomfortable.

“Ya’outgha get out of that thing more often Dansey. Who knew there were cookies in that tin can of yours.”

She obviously isn’t actually interested in Danse. Way too boring. But she’s not one to toss out eye candy just cause it isn’t her favorite flavor. She wouldn’t actively follow him but for fun and also to get on his nerves she would definitely cat-call him everytime he was in hearing range. Deacon and Hancock might join in for a few comments if they don’t have anything better to do.

She would not stop unless sole made a convincing plea or reason for why she should and maybe not even then.

Danse would not respond or look at Cait but he would be very red and never get out of his suit in front of her again.

Codsworth:

“Why Paladin Danse I dare say you’ve been keeping up your workout routine! Cheers to your excellent health whether in or out of your power armor!” Codsworth is reassured that his owner is traveling with someone so equipped for the struggles of the wasteland.

“Uh, thank you, Codsworth.” Danse would feel a bit awkward but he would appreciate the compliment.

“Might I polish that for you while you're otherwise engaged? It seems to be in a just dreadful state and I would like nothing more than for you to be looking your best in your wasteland escapades!” Though he is reassured by Danse’s physical state and abilities, he is mortified by the state his armor is in. All the scratches, dings, and dirt? It’s just horrible. Codsworth has always wanted an opportunity to fix that suit up and is pretty happy that the day has finally arrived.

“I- If you’d like to you can.”

“Oh good! I do so love a difficult task!” With that Codsworth would zoom away to procure the necessary supplies to return Danse’s armor to it’s original state. Danse didn’t really know whether or not he should be offended at the robot’s comments but he decided to just continue about his business and not think about it too much.

Curie:

“Oh Monsieur Danse, you are quite zee lovely specimen! I would be eager to do a physical examination if you would allow me to.” Ever since leaving the vault, Curie has been astounded at how many different sorts of humans there are. Danse is particularly interesting to her because of the amazing athletic feats he does so regularly. She is also interested in studying the effects of constant power armor usage on the human body. When she sees him step out of his suit for the first time and sees his overly muscular physique, it just tacks on another reason she wants to study him.

Before Blind Betrayal:

“The only specimen that needs examining is you, synth. Don’t talk to me unless you’re submitting yourself to the Brotherhood.” The only reason Curie isn’t already on the Prydwen is because Sole thinks it’s their friend. It bothers Danse immensely that Sole hasn’t destroyed or used this inhuman thing already.

(Don’t get mad at me he literally says this in game.)

Curie is very hurt, she expected this reaction but it still hurt. She was still getting used to feelings such as the pained ones she felt in moments like these.

After Blind Betrayal:

“No. Thank you.” Danse’s words were strained. Being around Curie was pretty awful for him. He had treated her so terribly before and he still had strong feelings of disgust towards her despite what he knows now. Everytime he sees her and has those feelings of hate and disgust, he remembers that he and Curie are the same. He’s still struggling to overcome the years of propaganda that were drilled into him.

Curie is disappointed. Did Danse not see they are the same? If he didn’t believe in her humanity then he would have to not believe in his own. It is very confusing for Curie. She hopes that he will eventually go back on his denial of her offer. He would be a very interesting specimen.

Deacon:

He would be surprised that Danse would be able to wear that clunky thing so much in the first place. He wouldn’t be surprised at how muscular he is under the suit though. It takes a lot of strength to operate those suits. He’d read that before they were fully developed, a lot of trial runs had resulted in really terrible accidents. The kind of accidents that crush all of your bones at once or remove your top half from your bottom.

Deacon would definitely make a few jokes. “Hey the sardine’s outta the can!” “Isn’t getting out of that bulldozer against Brotherhood policy or something?” “And I thought it was glued on! Learn something new everyday.”

Danse would scowl at his comments but say nothing. He did not like Deacon one bit. That man’s hiding something and if it turns out what he’s hiding will harm Sole or the Brotherhood’s mission, there was gonna be hell to pay. Danse could’ve sworn he’d seen him on the Prydwen a few times but whenever he looked back again to check, he was gone. Danse didn’t much like the idea of leaving his power armor alone with Deacon around but Sole assured him he’s harmless. We’ll see...

Whenever Danse returned to his suit Deacon would stand suspiciously close to it and act like he was trying to play cool after almost being caught doing something nefarious. He would never get tired of watching Danse carefully inspect every part of the armor before apprehensively getting in. Man that guy’s fun to mess with.

Dogmeat:

He was so surprised! He thought this human was just made of metal! But now Dogmeat can play and jump and lick! Yes!!

Danse has no idea how to deal with a dog he wasn’t allowed to kick so he would just try to awkwardly push the pup off until Sole took care of it.

Hancock:

Oh HELL YES! Hancock has wanted to punch this fucker since he first laid eyes on him. “HEY SOLDIER BOY, TIME TO SEE WHAT YOU CAN DO OUT OF YOUR DAMN COWARD COFFIN!” He would make a beeline towards the paladin and the paladin would speed walk towards the ghoul as well. Sole barely let him insult the damn freak but this was a direct attack of which he was most definitely gonna defend himself from.

Sole would freak out a bit and try to get in between the two. They would both try to get Sole out of the way so they could pummel each other. A brief alliance in order to facilitate their battle. This was too sweet of an opportunity to miss.

“Sorry Sunshine, this is happening.”

“Sole, it has directly started an altercation with me and I intend to see it through.”

If they both had a great relationship with Sole after a bit of panicked begging to both parties, the men would begrudgingly back off. They would, however, insult each other viciously despite Sole’s protests.

“You have no fucking idea how lucky you are meathead. I swear to god if they weren’t here…”

“You call me a meathead but you’re the one who’s rotting, ghoul.”

They would continue to jab each other until Sole dragged Danse off to do what he got out of his suit to do in the first place.

If one or both of them didn’t have a close relationship with Sole, well, it wouldn’t be pretty. They would forcibly move Sole out of the way and fight for a while. Though Danse is much bigger than Hancock, Hancock is quicker and better at hand to hand. Danse, being unused to fighting outside of his armor, was ultimately unable to beat the ghoul. Hancock landed one final blow to his face, knocking Danse flat. When he stayed down Hancock laughed loudly and spit at him.

“Done in by the best, lucky you.” It would be a huge blow to Danse’s ego and he’d resent Hancock even more now. Hancock would gloat constantly when Danse was around. “Heyyy, there’s my favorite punching bag!” “Come on over Dansey I won’t bite!” He wouldn’t out of shame, but if Danse ever did try to retort, Hancock would just taunt him. Saying something like “Oh yeah? Ya know my favorite way to settle conflicts is by beating the other asshole into the dirt. Hop outta that suit and we can go for round two.”

MacCready:

Mac’s always thought of Danse as an annoying asshole. He still thinks of him this way but when he stepped out of that armor for the first time. Ho lee sh-crap. MacCready might have to look into joining the Brotherhood if the rest of those guys looked the same as Danse. He had expected him to be strong cause of the whole carrying 500 pounds of steel everywhere but his body was something Mac was not expecting and something he could look at for a while.

If Danse came near the merc he would probably clam up and blush a bit. If Danse caught him staring, he would annoyedly ask, “Is there a problem, civilian?”

“I- uh no.” any other day he would’ve fired back some snide remark but he couldn’t quite seem to think of one right now.

Nick:

Nick really couldn’t give less of a damn. He hated Danse, Danse hated him, and the two did their best to ignore each other.

Piper: Piper didn’t really care either. Sure he was muscular but she was very turned off by the everything else about him. All she really payed attention to was the possibility of an exclusive interview or an inside look at the Brotherhood’s workings. Danse would never agree to either of those though. Preston: Preston didn’t care. He already knew you had to be strong to wear power armor especially if you wore them as much as Brotherhood Paladins did. He didn’t like the Brotherhood and by extension, he didn’t trust Danse. Preston was mannerly of course, for Sole, but he knows Danse thinks very little of the Minutemen so he didn’t try too hard to be kind. Strong: Strong thinks this is good time to smash strong human. He has killed many brothers but he wears metal suit. He is weak without metal suit. Human friend tells Strong that if Strong smash, Strong will not find milk of human kindness. Strong angry, Strong want to smash, but Strong not smash.

Danse would never get out of his suit near Strong unless he absolutely had to. Sole insisted that the abomination wasn’t going to be a problem but he didn’t believe it for a second. It took all of his willpower to not open fire on the thing whenever he saw it. Sole has poor taste in companions...

X6:

X6 wouldn’t care. He would consider taking this opportunity to get rid of the high ranking Brotherhood soldier, but it would make Sole upset and would do relatively little to the Brotherhood as a whole.

Ask and ye shall recieve! I decide the winner on Hancock’s one by their special stats. How the hell does Hancock have such good stats and he’s still terrible in a fight??

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jq37 · 3 years

Text

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 8

Fight for Your Right to Party

Welcome back to this fight, already in progress where TK just DIED. So, you know, we have to deal with that. This is largely a battle episode as was last ep but more plot relevant stuff happens so I’m gonna hit all of the important story beats.

Yelle drinks the fly potion she got earlier and grabs TK’s body to fly her to Ost. Jana (Katja’s absentee mother who just landed the finishing blow on TK) grabs a palimpsest and swings at Yelle but Yelle shrugs it off and keeps going.

Zelda (at Penny’s behest) stuffs Lysander (her shoe-shining makeout partner) into a suit of armor while Katja squares off with her mother.

“Jana, nice to meet you I guess,” Katja says, full of teenage sarcasm.

“I’m at work,” Jana replies, absolutely setting Kat off.

She rolls her attacks, one of them being a Nat 20, uses her new axe to shatter the palimpsest in her hand and doing a whopping 99 points of damage. That doesn’t kill her BUT her last attack is a shove attack, dropping her from the balcony and forcing her to take 10d6 falling damage. That makes it 130 total points of damage meaning Katja killed her mom IN ONE ROUND.

Handshake Meme: Adaine Abernant, Katja Cleaver, Fucking obliterating your shitty parent.

While fighting is happening, Antiope suspects the Jester of being Charity so she says Charity’s name. The Jester reacts a bit and Antiope finally nails their last mirror image.

Sam (who was briefly a giant swan which I neglected to mention because in the grand scheme of things? Frankly, a footnote) gets an Eldritch Blast off on the Jester then uses Thunderstep to help get Ost out of one of the goo monsters.

Also, speaking of Charity from two paragraphs back, she pops up behind Antiope and STABS HER, fully dropping her. OR, she WOULD have dropped her if she didn’t have the Alert feat, negating her sneak attack damage and leaving her up with EIGHT HP. You simply love to see it.

(Also, oh no, who could have guessed that the big government organization in a story written by Brennan Lee Mulligan would actually turn out to be shady and not good aligned? Shock. Horror.)

Ost Revivifies TK and, as she does, she hears an unfamiliar male voice say, “There are no things in this world that are so broken they cannot be mended.” Hmmm. Maybe not an entirely absentee god after all.

This isn’t plot relevant but I simply have to quote Aabria who has the funniest line in the whole episode when TK wakes up. “Out here looking like a Dora fucking Milaje. Yibambe! Do something!”

Do something she does, trapping the Jester in a wall of force with an assist from Sam who counters the jester’s Counterspell.

One of Yelle’s pixies then polymorphs Ant into something with more HP than her meager 8 HP, an event that was frankly inevitable in hindsight. Ant turns into a dragon. Yelle also casts Blight on Charity for 44 points of damage because she’s a beast in the less literal sense.

Ant, making the best use of her new form even as she has mixed feelings about it, suplexes Charity off the balcony for 34 points of damage but lets her go to try for a tail attack which she doesn’t land. Charity gets up and says, “I always hoped to kill a Jones. And maybe my day will come soon.” Then, she’s beamed out. As she beams out, Antiope realizes that Charity stole the Legendarium off of her before she was turned into a dragon and she failed the check to notice.

Penny gets TK to drop the barrier around the Jester and she stabs him in the back with her rapier, for 27 points of damage. The Jester super fails to keep concentration on the spell animating the monsters and they all dissolve.

The Jester still has some fight left and tries to get a Disintegrate spell off on TK but TK counters it and then hits him with a Disintegrate of her own. As it hits and his clothes dissolves, a tattoo of horses pulling a chariot is briefly seen. It’s Preston.

(“Who could have known the cop was a cop,” says Aabria.)

Fight over, TK hails the Maidens and gets the party started again. The pixies go to strap bombs on this billionaire ship because, of course.

They’ve lost the Legendarium but, luckily, Yelle thought to make them copies and those are still functional. On a 23, Ant realizes something is happening in the Necrinomikron which is an area of Spyre associated with death. They decide to get the party ship to sail that way so they can get their party on but still stay on mission. Then, having learned that her potential employers are evil, Ant texts her, “I’m in” to the group.

“Are you really in?” Sam asks, achingly hopeful.

“Yeah,” Ant says, and Sam gives her a big hug.

Sam jokes (or half-jokes), “Now all we need is Penny,” and Ant stops her in her tracks. She CAN’T do this again. Even as a joke. “I love you,” she says, but she absolutely cannot. Ant hugs her again but Sam doesn’t return the hug.

Yelle gives everyone the hearts she made for them a bit back and Ost is inspired to call her dad. She tells her dad she loves him and they have a genuinely touching moment (“What’s wrong with you?”/”Nothing anymore.”) that she abruptly ends when he mentions that he and her mom are thinking about selling the house. Let’s not get crazy Mr. Wallace. Your daughter can only handle so much Real Talk at a time.

Penny emails her family to fill them in on what she’s doing then pulls Lysander into a closet to tastefully fade to black. Likewise, Antiope is feeling not so cold to dragons as she once was and finds the nearest dragonborn to get over her crush on Preston (rolling a very dirty 20 on per Persuasion check).

(She gets to roll w/ advantage btw because dragons are her favored enemy and the implication that picking up boys and hunting dragons are equivalent activities had me dying.)

Kat calls her dad to tell him that she killed her mom and then, hilariously, Jana appears literally behind him because he’s in hell and she’s a shitty person so of course her soul ended up there. Her dad reveals that part of the reason he stopped being with Jana is that TK informed him that the Ministry of Adventure sometimes matchmade their agents with adventurers to kind of keep an eye on them and Jana was that for him. The internship Antiope was offered was a pipeline to that kind of work. When Jana left them it was because her cover was blown and she was “taken off his detail.” Brutal.

But hey! Good news. Her dad has been thinking a lot about his absentee parent thing and has talked it over with his party. He wants Kat to join up with them! Ost breaks the crystal upon hearing that. Then gives Kat her crystal to continue the call. Brennan makes Kat roll to remember her dad’s number and Sam just uses her mirror to get the info for her.

Kat says she can’t just leave her party. They’re like her sisters. Or her horses. Her dad seems a little taken aback but says they’ll discuss it later.

Meanwhile, Sam has gone onto the balcony to brood as she is wont to do and is joined by TK who seems to know what she’s thinking about and asks if she's noticed things are a bit strange, even by Spyre standards. Sam does. They talk a bit about death and change and Sam says she feels a kinship with Talura but doesn’t want to end up like her. TK says there’s no magic more potent than simply doing something new and Sam, who is a bit exhausted by TK’s riddle speak, says that she reminds her of Arthur Aguefort (which TK doesn’t take a s an insult).

And with the girls alternatively partying, making romantic connections, or brooding, we end the episode.

Superlatives

Katja: Most Like to Finish What She Starts

One round Katja???? One round of damage??? You killed your mom in one round of damage????? GIRL.

Random Thoughts

The episode gets its title because Kat has like a million mic drop lines she wants to use on her mom and, instead of picking just one, she just tries to say them all. My favorite being before she shoves her, “See you next fall. Actually, see you next Tuesday.”

Antiope has had a whole-ass arc re: dragons huh? Shot a dragon, became a dragon, and hooked up with a dragon(born) all in the same day. Lmao, exposure therapy.

I think Kat re: Jana “Can you reincarnate her into a good mom?”

Ant at Ost re: Sean, a guard who she thinks is maybe kinda cute doing minimal damage during the fight “That’s like zero fucking damage! Don’t get with Sean!”

Sigh, and Preston joins Grissini in the D20 pool of boys who *could* have been hot love interests if they weren’t government stooges.

So the trigger for the curse that turned the people into monsters was in Preston’s shirt, right? Why would it be there? I’m guessing it was supposed to be in the sweatshirt Ant refused so Brennan just had it be on the item of clothing she accepted. But logistically, how? I doubt everyone just has little devices on all their articles of clothing on the off chance you need to plant something on a girl who arrived at an interview in a sport’s bra. Maybe Charity sleight of handed it onto the shirt as a rogue?

“Cinnamon stop making it clap.”

Y’all, this is up a bit late and the last two recaps will be as well but I’m still getting them up because I’ve found that people often check out the backlog of these post-season, sometimes way after the fact so they’re still helpful. Thanks to everyone who checks these out, regardless of when!

In this ep, Kat rolled one nat 20 and one nat 1. Various non-Zelda NPCs rolled two nat 1s.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #the seven #the seven spoilers

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bottlecapbaby · 4 years

Note

I saw you opened your requests again ! Cool ! Could we know what was the thing that reader did that made the companions (from Fallout 4) realize that they were in love with them ?

It had to be you

Cait: One day, the two of you were getting a little rowdy. A couple of drinks in, she challenged you to some old fashioned fisticuffs, and you oblige her, which she doesn’t expect. It’s taps, more like fencing than an actual bleeding brawl. You manage to knock her over, and she’s laughing. She looks up at you, backlit like an angel, while you hold out a hand to pull her up. And that’s when she knew.

Curie: Curie wasn’t someone who necessarily took risks. She didn’t seek thrills, she thought doing such things were stupid, though undeniably human. On rare occasions, she would let her feelings get the better of her, despite the irony of meeting senseless violence with more violence. Once, the two of you almost didn’t make it out of a firefight she escalated. You absolutely chewed her out, fussed over her, checked her for scrapes and injuries, said you didn’t know what you would’ve done if something had happened. She had never truly been in the patient’s chair before. You were the first person who made her feel truly cared for.

Danse: Throughout the day, you’d been knocked down hard, grazed, battered. Every time, you picked yourself up, unprotected by power armor. He could tell you must have felt heavier than lead. Through the fight and exploration, you’d hadn’t found many caps, or even much good salvage. You did it all for some poor farmer’s family trinket. And when you returned it, you showed no signs of exhaustion. Made no complaints, demanded no compensation. You just looked proud to have done something for someone else.

Deacon: Deacon has an untold amount of stories to tell, he’s prepared for any situation, including some future kid asking him how it was he knew he loved you. There were a lot of heroic and selfless things he’d like to say, that it was after he saw you free all of the synths, that it was when you chose to risk your life for the freedom of machines, something like that. Really, it was one late night at the Rexford. You said, “You know, it’s ok to not be ok. I’ll still be here.” He hasn’t been the same since.

Hancock: There were probably an infinite number of moments that made Hancock feel love for you, but the first time he knew he was in love was when you defended him from some Diamond City bigot. No hesitation, no mercy, no fiber of your being would stand for it. You had more respect for him than he had ever had for himself. And it just made him really understand how real this was for you. Being a hero wasn’t playing pretend for you, it was every hour of every day.

Gage: He’d probably been toying with the idea for a while, and refusing to even get close to admitting it to himself, probably started something of a relationship without a clear label. When you turned on the lights for Nuka-World, covered in the blood of your betrayers, he knew there would never be anyone in the world who could even come close. It had to be you. Now, and forever, he wouldn’t settle for anyone else. You were the arbiter of his hopes and dreams, and you made it look so easy. He never thought he’d trust anyone again. But now he figures he was never even a whole person before he met you, he just didn’t know it.

MacCready: His moment of realization, as much as he would like for it to have been badass and wild, was probably in a quiet moment of softness. When you played with a little kid on some settlement, told them how cool their toy car was, handed them a couple wrapped candies. And when you turned, you were surprised. You really had no idea that anyone was watching. He’d met plenty of fakes in his life, plenty of monsters, people who did things only for themselves. Hell, he was one of them. But you were real.

Nick Valentine: Probably when the two of you were working on a case together. The boring part, too, where the two of you stayed up late and looked over scattered files, trying to pull motives and connections out of the air. Your brows were furrowed, a pen in your teeth, a stack of papers in each hand while your eyes darted around. All this— lost sleep, lost time, lost resources you gladly gave away for the sake of someone who needed help. You didn’t have any pride in being some detective genius. You worried about these problems as if you were your very own, no matter who they really belonged to. You made him double down on the paperwork.

Old Longfellow: He saw you absolutely fucking ripping through a mirelurk after killing it. You’d run low on food, and now you were elbow deep in the guts of just about every creature you could get your hands on, ripping out every usable bit there was. You weren’t even a little afraid of getting dirty. And at the end, you’d always look up at him with a smile, and offer him some, like it was the funniest thing in the world. With people like you in the world, maybe it could be wonderful.

Piper: You were mad. Furious. Absolutely tearing into some schmuck you’d met on your travels, someone who’d lied about the sourcing of his products, endangered a lot of innocent lives for the sake of a profit. Before she met you, she felt so alone, and it scared her. She was so afraid that there was no one left in the world who really cared enough about the truth, about giving people what they needed to take care of themselves. Why care about the truth when ignorance and lies are so much easier? But not you. You’d sooner roll over and die than you would live a lie. She’d found a kindred spirit.

Preston: You were covered in the grease from a generator on the fritz. You’d been scabbing for parts, working with Sturges for the better part of two days to get it back in order. It clearly wasn’t your idea of a good time, but there you were, even into the night with a lantern at your feet. A lot of the minutemen, when they were more prevalent, were glory-seekers. He didn’t deny it. It felt good to be someone’s hero. But even after the heroism was done, the raiders and monsters beaten back into the shadows, you stayed. All the little things, all of the mundane, you took personal responsibility for it. Being covered in dirt and sweat in the dark was not glamorous, and it wasn’t fun. But for the sake of the settlement, he’d seen you do it time and time again.

X6-88: He saw you do many things in absolute tedium. Scrolling and clicking away at your pip-boy, hunched over at a workbench removing tiny screws from rusty fans, weeding garden patches. You had many friends, led many settlements, and while you knew to ask for help, you did not delegate these tasks. At the institute, it was commonplace to see people ordered around, made to do unsavory and boring tasks purely for the benefit of the higher ups. You expected no such thing. You even got somewhat annoyed when he would try to do them for you, so adamant were you that he devote his time to something he wanted to do. You took pride in what you did, and never took an opportunity to foist work on anyone else. It made him so angry. So fucking angry at the entire structure of the Institute. Until one day, he saw you swear as another typewriter component rolled off of your workbench and bounced away. All of these momentary discomforts, you did not fear even a little.

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