i figure in the interim between dead man talking and dead woman walking nick and glori get into a routine over how they do their Detective Stuff. nick's got a whole lifetime of prior experience to call on and a very cool head, so he tends to go off gut feelings, intuition, that kind of thing, while gloria's the type to very meticulously think things through, keep stacks of notes, individually organized binders, a real three steps ahead type. there's something funny to me about the literal robot being the warm, empathetic one and the random bank clerk with the unlucky circumstances being the ruthless enforcer of the two

I played arrival last night and the thing is I know I don’t have to defeat all 10 waves of enemies, like you’ll wake up two days later regardless. 

at the same time i very much absolutely have to defeat all waves because if I don’t scream WITNESS ME as commander shepard takes down ten waves of enemies including a fucking ymir mech all by herself WHAT IS THE POINT

Scream

remade penny 🥰

Fighting for good, one widow bite at the time: Black Widow's cultural impact

Critics scoff when I call the Black Widow movie a favorite, but hear me out. It deserved a better release window, maybe at an earlier time, when things would've been viewed differently. Sure, it doesn't rise up what it could've been, leaving so much lingering dreams in the hearts of us, fans. So much potential remains untapped, so many questions unanswered... but Natasha Romanoff? She rises above it all. If you doubt her power, think again, and as I said, hear me out.

Black Widow, the assasin with steely eyes that hide and protect a heart of gold, has transcended the screen to become a cultural icon. From her first appereance in the MCU in Iron Man 2 (2010) to Black Widow (2021), she truly went through a lot, took us with her, and thaught everyone some lessons on the way.

Shattering the mold of the damsel in distress: She's no sidekick, she's a strategist and a fierce fighter. She is a vital member of the Avengers, that's a fact we saw in the 2012 movie. After all, how many characters can you name that tricked the God of Mischief? Nat didn't only do it exceptionally, she is the first we saw doing this on screen.

Reclaiming Narrative: Unlike many superheroes defined by singular origins, Black Widow carried the trauma of a dark past, manipulated by the Red Room, a notorious spy program. Her movie explored this narrative, acknowledging the exploitation and abuse she endured. This resonated with survivors of violence and abuse, offering validation and representation. Her journey of breaking free from her past resonated on a broader level, highlighting themes of resilience, empowerment, and overcoming hardship. Furthermore, she hasn't always been a hero, an avenger. "Regimes fall everyday. I tend not to weep over that, I'm russian" and "I've got red in my ledger. I'd like to wipe it out" show how she's not just using the power she already has, but has the power to change as well. This isn't about brute force, it's about internal struggle and choosing to become a better version of herself despite her history.

Sisterhood and Solidarity: Black Widow's story wasn't solely focused on herself. In "Black Widow," she teams up with other women who share similar experience, even if at first this doesn't seem to work, indoctrinated as they are in the Red Room programme. This depiction of female solidarity resonated with audiences, particularly feminist movements advocating for women's support networks and collective action.

Representation Matters: Black Widow's portrayal as a skilled leader and strategist challenged existing portrayals of Russian characters in Hollywood. They are often depicted as villains or stereotypes, but her complex identity sparked conversations about diversity and representation within the superhero genre.

Defying stereotypes: As the sole original female Avenger, Black Widow carried a unique weight. She didn't need superpowers or a revealing suit — her determination and arsenal spoke for themselves. That's true power. I mean, in some situations she only had two cool firearms, but did better than Captain America with a vibranium shield! I also love how her costume evolved over time, prioritizing functionality over sexualization. Ditching the impractical neckline in her solo movie? A much-needed win! It shows that Black Widow commands respect through her actions, not her body.

Her impact and importance punches like her combat skills, if you ask me.

So, the next time you see the Black Widow, remember, she's more than just a character. She's a symbol of strength, resilience, and the unwavering human spirit. Thanks for being a constant source of inspiration, Nat ❣️

Do you have any recommendations for longer cod fics with plot?

Yeah, plenty!

A few from @391780 (and their ao3) (if you decide to explore their other fics PLEASE read the tags first, early writes some very dark work that may not suit you):

The Arrangement

The ad reads "Looking for a woman (25-45) to enter a discreet and unusual arrangement, with monetary compensation. Must fill out application and send photo.", and for some reason that you can't even fathom yourself, you apply. AKA John Price, who knows better than anyone what a liability having a spouse or partner is, decides that the only way he's going to find a beautiful soft woman to put up with his absurd schedule and dangerous job is to simply hire them.

the space in between

a shortcut through a construction site at night leads you to a run-in with john price, leader of the local crime family. (or, mafia Price romance with a desk jockey who didn't sign up to be a crime boss' obsession or sole confidant)

Into Your Veins

Ghost is a vampire during a zombie apocalypse, sent on a mission from Price to recruit you to join the little gated community of survivors that he's rounding up. You're a survivor who just wants to be left in peace to tend your garden and occasionally clear out your moat and booby traps of the undead. Neither of you gets what you'd planned on.

Then we have milk0 on ao3

Incompetent People

You share a group chat with your team and you sometimes wish you didn’t. (or, a very fun fic that started as a group chat piece and has evolved into a poly 141 romance. Otherwise known as my favorite fucking trope ever. The reader character has such a fun voice, I adore this fic.)

Next of course is @ceilidho (emphemeron on ao3) (same deal as with early—read their tags if you explore more of their fic, they also write darker work)

take me home, country road

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au

Following up with @alittleposhtoad (smoggyfogbottom on ao3)

"it's gonna get me by the end of the night"

A year after the attack on the Urzikstan embassy, Stacy Davidson struggles to move on. Whumptober Prompt: No. 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.” Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?” Note: I picked Gaz x OC because this ship doesn't exist on ao3, and I wasn't sure how to classify it for searching purposes. Stacy has a minor role in the game!

oh bury me not on the lone prairie

You are a doctor on the frontier, recently widowed and left to fend for yourself. You cope by keeping a strict routine, one that is threatened by the arrival of four strangers one hazy summer night. (141 western AU)

a handsome stranger on a cold autumn day

You work at a small-town library doing the same thing day in and day out, until a handsome captain approaches your desk.

rounding out this list is @lunarvicar who is on hiatus but still fully worth reading. (you can find them here on ao3)

exit row

ghost is that hot guy at the airport you wish you could talk to. good thing your seats are next to each other on the plane and you can fantasize alllll you want. (or, you hook up with Ghost in an airport and meet, months later, after you join the 141. he is not happy about it. or is he?)

to the flame

Moth has barely escaped her first captors, but tumbles headfirst into the care of the 141. She has to decide whether to trust them and their prickly leader, Captain Price - who also happens to be the sexiest motherfucker she's ever met.

a stranger at the table

tudor era AU. John Price is an old friend of your new husband's, come to help on the farm for a season. Your vows are tested in ways you could never have imagined.

All of these I've listed are multichapter fics, but every single author's one-shots are just as good. I highly recommend reading those too!

Now I'm just going to list a few writers who you really should just take the time to go through their masterlists, because you can't go wrong with anything they write.

@yeyinde

@peachesofteal

@moondirti

@charliemwrites (dark fiction, be aware)

@ohbo-ohno (also dark fiction)

honorary mention of @guyfieriii who has removed most of her cod fiction from tumblr due to a frankly disgusting amount of harassment, but I'm sure if you ask her very very nicely she'll send you where you need to go. (seriously. be nice. or you'll see me in your bedroom holding a knife at midnight)

P.S. if you're reading this, and i've expressed love for your work in the past, but you are not on this list, it is NOT intentional exclusion. It is my absolutely horrible memory. I love you and please link your own work if you'd like!

DELILAH TIME DELILAH TIME

here she is. officially. my beloved fallout 4 oc delilah !!!! first piece done by @zetobii and the second by @leavingautumn13

i dont draw so all art of delilah comes from my dear friends who draw her for me/with their ocs and tell me i can post it OR from commissions. what i can do, however, is write <3 and make playlists and pinterest boards for visuals <3 so prepare urself <3

speaking of which, you can find her playlist here and her pinterest board here!! theyre chronological, so listening/scrolling in order should more or less tell her story too

ok so: her appearance, personality, stats, story, and some fun facts are here under the cut (its a lot fyi ok i just love her so much) pls enjoy

delilah lore (delilore?) be upon ye:

appearance:

24 years old, 5’10”

very fair skinned with bright green eyes and jet black hair

her hair is wavy and flows down to the middle of her back. she has one small braid behind her right ear

covered in freckles, from her nose to her knees. she has a tiny scar above her mouth from a past split lip and a slit in her opposite eyebrow from a past black eye

midriff is heavily discolored from past bruises - the pigmentation never fully went away - and marred with keloid scars from deep cuts from things she refuses to talk about. if her dress has a high enough slit, bruises can peek out near the very tops of her legs

large black kingsnake tattoo wrapping up a her left arm with its head near her shoulder and its tail near/on her hand

she can almost always be found in her wine-colored silk dress that reaches only about mid-thigh, nails manicured and lips painted to match. it has spaghetti straps and is loosely bodycon.

she wears stacks of gold rings (as many as possible, really) and dangly gold snake earrings

the only things she keeps on her person are the dagger and the gun strapped to her thighs under her dress. her gun was a gift from KL-E-0. it is a custom gold-plated, silenced 10mm. lilah named it "Mine"

stats:

if fo4 had a karma slider, lilah would land pretty firmly on evil. on a dnd alignment chart, think chaotic neutral or neutral evil

SPECIAL: 2, 8, 2, 10, 7, 4, 3

she's not strong nor has much endurance, but when you're as smart, perceptive, and charismatic as she is, you can charm people into carrying your stuff for you anyway.

her perks are party girl (alcohol/chem resistance), black widow (damage/persuasion against men), night person (higher int at night), and intimidation (pacify, instruct, and force opponents to attack). and deacon's cloak and dagger, of course.

personality:

cold, calculated, distant

cares about very, very few people (and even fewer things) but is fiercely loyal to those people. she's a railroad agent, but only because deacon cares about the cause and she begrudgingly cares about deacon

she and deacon clash. he refused to even vouch for her admission to the railroad. she gets along much better with glory, but she still gets assigned to run jobs with deacon because they keep each other in check and are deadly efficient as a pair (theyre also in love but they keep it a secret from everyone including each other)

she cares about very very few people but it fiercely loyal to those people. she is a railroad agent, but only because deacon cares about the cause and she "begrudgingly" cares about deacon (she cares literally so much do not let her fool u)

her moral compass is not magnetic. right and wrong is whatever she wants it to be. she takes no issue killing people if they wrong her. sexual harassment or subterfuge/targeted deception send marks to the top of her hit list.

her story:

her birth name is allie eden

she is not a sole survivor; she was born into the capital wasteland chapter of the brotherhood of steel. despite sentinel lyons' best efforts, delilah responded far better to scribe training than to combat training

she and arthur maxson were the only two kids in the citadel, and they became fast friends, even after the lyons pride crumbled and maxson was appointed elder.

he appointed her his sentinel, second in command, which she embraced until she saw how terribly the wasteland was faring under his leadership.

she promptly absconded and, because she had been so sheltered until that day, quickly lost herself to chems and alcohol.

months passed in, thanks to all the blackouts, what felt like hours. one night, allie woke up in a warm bed that she did not fall asleep in. a man named dante deangelo had pulled her body from a D.C. gutter and made sure she was safe.

in no time, they fell in love and decided to escape to the commonwealth. they found a small, basement apartment in goodneighbor and allie began tending bar at the third rail.

dante, slowly but surely, became more abusive. he left bruises and deep cuts on her body anywhere her third rail uniform would cover. she stayed, though, because she'd been raised by the brotherhood to believe that love was harsh and painful. to obey without question. to submit to authority.

eventually, she tired of that life and snapped, killing dante before he could leave any more marks on her. something... shifted. maybe it was allie eden who entered their apartment that morning, but it was delilah who left it that night.

KL-E-0, who was quite fond of allie and is far fonder of delilah, fitted her with pistol, Mine.

instead of hiding behind the bar like she had when she was with dante, she began to use it to her advantage. every dusty drifter with full pockets full of caps left her bar empty handed. but it wasnt enough.

she began targeting triggermen, who she knew were peddling chems for... someone in goodneighbor. the moment a man started flirting with her (which she hated), it was like a red dot sight appeared on their foreheads. she'd seduce them, take them back to her apartment, get her caps and chems and information, and the men would never be seen again.

morowski, goodneighbor kingpin, eventually approached her at work about his shrinking pool of chem peddlers. they struck a deal: he would slip her into his operation as his newest arm candy, and she would peddle his chems at her bar.

it worked flawlessly until morowski actually fell in love with her. go figure. unless, of course, that was lilah's plan all along...

while she's still participating in this farce with morowski, she meets drummer boy, who she ends up truly enjoying the company of even despite her general distaste for men. eventually, he convinces her to join the railroad with him

because morowski is in love with delilah, she has no issue squeezing information out of him when deacon asks her to: morowski is an institute informant. lilah quickly, uh, deals with that problem, and the next days, morowski is found dead in his office at the rexford. cause of death: self inflicted gunshot wound. what a tragedy.

because delilah was his "other half," his unofficial widow, she inherited morowski's whole chem operation

now, she happily spends her days directing the triggermen and tending her bar - for fun and for information, at this point, because she certainly doesnt need the caps. when she needs to run for the railroad or her beloved friends need her professional black widow skills, whitechapel charlie is "happy" to cover for her. as happy as he can manage, anyway.

fun facts:

she is terrified of storms, heights, and violent outbursts from people she trusts

her name comes from the bible story of sampson and delilah, where delilah is paid by the government to seduce sampson (a man of god) and tempt him to sin by telling her what gives him his inhuman strength. after three attempts, she is successful. sampson tells her that god gives him his strength through his hair. she then cuts his hair, which ultimately leads to his death. i mean what a bad bitch

she is still deeply unhappy even after she wraps goodneighbor around her finger because she still doesnt know who she is

she's skeptical of maxson's move to the commonwealth. she is very much on the run from him (and the bortherhood as a whole), and ham happily vets drifters for her to ensure theyre not undercover brotherhood before letting them into the bar.

she and maccready arent exactly "friends" but they harbor mutual respect for each other since they spend so much time together. mac had to call her off like a guard dog when winlock and barnes paid him a visit, so shes confident he would do the same if the brotherhood ever came knocking.

tagged by @twosides--samecoin to be part of WIP wthursday, which was really sweet of them <3 <3 thanks buddy

this is an excerpt of a sole survivor/maccready fanfic I'm working on. It's about MacCready joining his boss on one last job to Sanctuary. And it's supposed to earn him enough caps to go back home to Duncan. But the kicker is that Sanctuary is being haunted by the sole survivor's late husband. And he is vengeful. It's a fun/spooky story about two grieving widows trying to outrun an entity that just will not let them go.

-

"Vault 111 was a hateful place, turned sour in the centuries after the war. 

In her first weeks out of the vault, Annie dug into that ice November ground to bury her dead. She buried her neighbors. She buried the scientists, the guards, even the overseer. But most of all, it was intended as a place for her late husband to rest. 

That poor one, it seemed, could not."

-

Also here's a WIP sketch/study for Annie and MacCready!

im gonna tag @sirmanmister @theartofblossoming @boarix @druidgroves @murderboner420 @userdogmeat @rad-roche @maccreadysbaby and @adventuresofmeghatron 2 join in the fun! <3

REECE STARLING ( RACHEL SENNOTT ) is a TWENTY-SIX year-old GUITAR TEACHER in STATEN ISLAND. They were brought under Richard’s care when they were only ELEVEN years old. They are known as THE MISCHIEVOUS because they are MIRTHFUL but also IRREVERENT.

tw: substance abuse/addiction, parental neglect/custody loss, death, domestic abuse

BASIC INFORMATION

Full Name: Theresa Rebecca Starling

Nickname(s): Reece 

Date of Birth: December 7, 1978

Age: twenty-five

Occupation: guitar teacher & restaurant hostess 

Current Residence: Staten Island

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Hair: brown, curly

Eyes: gray

Height: 5’2

Notable Features: Reece is rocking up to Richard’s funeral with a strip band-aid over her nose and a bruised eye :/

PERSONALITY & BEHAVIOR:

Strengths: amiable, outgoing, witty

Weaknesses: flippant, addictive, impulsive

Quirks: talks with her hands like a true italian, constantly fidgets with her jewelry

Vices: aside from her smoking habit—weed and cigarettes—Reece needs Monster Energy in an IV to make it through the day

INTEREST & HOBBIES:

Interests: astrology, music production, tabloid gossip, the 2005 music industry as a whole, the brad x angelina x jennifer love triangle, survivor, grey’s anatomy, gwen stefani 

Hobbies: stand-up at the local open mics, songwriting, music mixing, bird-watching, parkour

Special Skills/Talents: music theory & a handful of instruments (mostly guitar)

BECOMING A WARD

Reece’s grandmother, Estie, was an old friend of Richard’s wife, Adelia, who she met in school; once they were all married—Adelia to Richard, of course, and Estie to her own husband, Charlie—I imagine they were “couple friends,” with double dates and so on.  Estie got pregnant with Reece’s mom, Tess, a little less than a year before Adelia got pregnant with Winifred; the women probably talked about how they’d raise their daughters together. When Adelia passed in childbirth, though, Estie was heartbroken; Estie and her husband remained in contact with Richard, trying to be there for him and Winnifred if they needed anything. Winnifred and Tess spent their early years as friends.  Shortly before Winnifred disappeared, Estie’s husband died of a heart attack; Estie and Richard came to lean on each other in this time—a widower trying to raise her daughter alone, and a man who had lost everything. They found comfort in each other. It wasn’t some torrid affair—they were just the only two people left living who could understand one another. They both felt guilty, as though they’d betrayed Adelia and Charlie, and the two grew apart.  Tess, who never fully recovered from the sudden loss of her father and close friend in childhood, dropped out of high school later on, and developed a drinking problem which progressed to a drug addiction as she got older. At 24, Tess got pregnant with Reece; when Reece’s father, a fling at best, didn’t want anything to do with it, Tess moved to Chicago for a fresh start. Tess tried to raise Reece and get her life under control, but without proper help, Tess was never able to stay sober for long. When Reece was five, CPS got involved after Tess overdosed, and Reece was taken into the foster care system for a few months.  Tess was able to get sober and get Reece back; the two moved back to Staten Island, where Estie was, and when Tess fell off the wagon again a year later, Reece moved in with Estie, who raised her for the next five years. This took place in the late eighties, when I imagine Estie and Richard would have caught up after all of that time had passed—perhaps Richard would have even met Reece once or twice at some gathering or another that he invited Estie to attend, although Reece and Richard didn’t know each other especially well until Estie, aged 63, died in a car accident in 1990, when Reece was only eleven. Aware that Reece had been in the sole care of his old friend, Richard stepped in to prevent Reece from having to enter the foster care system again.

LIFE AS A WARD

Reece arrived at the Woodrow House as a grieving eleven-year-old who had no idea how to deal with her pain aside from joking about it. The times she spent in her mom's care as a kid were often turbulent, and she'd kind of adapted to the unpredictability of her mom's moods by learning to be an entertainer—nobody can yell at you if they're too busy laughing, right? So, reece developed a real knack for levity and lifting spirits that she carried with her when her grandmother got custody while reece was 5, and again when her grandmother passed and she moved into Richard's care at age 11. Reece has never been good at dealing with the deep stuff, so it's always been hard to get her to be serious about anything. Growing up, I guess you could say she was kind of a troublemaker, but it all came from a kind of impulsive hedonism on Reece's part. it was less true rebellion for the sake of rebelling, and more a desire to do whatever would be the funnest/funniest, no matter the consequences. She has some trouble knowing when a joke has gone too far sometimes, because in her mind, the Joke—whatever that joke may be in the moment—is praxis. Reece more or less invented committing to the bit! She probably spent plenty of time trying to get the other wards to go along with her dumb bits or reckless schemes, too, and she's never been able to stand anyone who takes themselves too seriously. So, that's Reece: an eternal class clown, because laughter takes some of the sting out of the truth. Even the wards that are closest to Reece probably haven't had a lot of truly deep, serious conversations with Reece—at least ones that she participated in voluntarily. Reece spent a long time in and out of alcoholism treatment programs because she couldn't really take her own addiction seriously and see it for what it was; she started drinking young, probably around 13, and she immediately understood what her mother saw in it as an all-day activity. It didn't take long for Richard to recognize Reece's drinking as problematic—after all, thirteen is young to even be experimenting with alcohol, especially given Reece's family history—but it took years of short-lasting sober stints and casual backslides for Reece to understand that she wasn't just being young and dumb, and everyone was right to be worried: it's an illness, and it's not something that went away when she turned twenty-one, which is what she'd been hoping. an instance of alcohol poisoning on her 21st birthday, though, led to Reece getting placed in a more serious addiction rehabilitation program, and she had to drop out of school, but she did get sober at 21, at least for the time being.

AESTHETIC

vintage rings, snarled curls, smudged makeup, menthol marlboros, crushed energy drink cans in the bottom of a beat up purple vw bug, scrawled-on sheet music

Reece's wardrobe pretty much gives y2k laundry day. even though her outfits are usually pretty low-effort, she sort of always comes off as though she's wearing a costume. She oscilates drastically between slutty hi-femme clothes and absolute androgyny, and sometimes she blends the two at once. She wears rings, and her hair is almost always tied back.

EDUCATION

Reece absolutely wanted to be a private school girl, but not for any academic reason. She probably just thought it would be like the movies. Reece wasn’t especially focused when it came to her education, but she did well enough to get accepted to college, which she saw, on-and-off, as a place to party, mostly. She ended up dropping out in her junior year because her alcoholism had gotten out of control, and she needed to go to rehab; she never ended up getting her music degree. 

EXTRACURRICULARS 

Always inclined towards music, Reece cycled through a number of instruments growing up—piano was her first and longest instrument, encouraged by Richard, but Reece’s favorite was guitar (something she picked up at around 14), which she still plays today. She took singing lessons for a while when she first started taking piano, and she also learned some percussion. She probably learned a little saxophone and clarinet, too, so that she’d have experience with band instruments. When it was clear that music was a real passion of Reece’s, Richard set her up with someone who could teach her music theory, and her tutor helped her learn to write music of her own, which became Reece’s major focus during her high school years. For the first couple of years she was at the estate, I also think she probably took some acting lessons and did some local theater acting, since it was probably pretty obvious that Reece really liked being the center of attention and needed some outlet for that.

THEIR LIFE NOW

As stated before, Reece enrolled at NYU to get a degree in music—I'm thinking something related to digital music production, although Reece doesn't have the equipment to do much of that anymore—and she was sober on-and-off over the first few years, not really taking seriously the fact that she needed to stop drinking, but keeping it under wraps enough that things didn't come to a head until her 21st birthday. After being hospitalized with alcohol poisoning, Reece dropped out, got sober, got settled, and moved back to her hometown of Staten Island, where she job hopped for a while before becoming a guitar teacher. Nine months ago, Reece relapsed; she'd had a conversation with her mom, something she hadn't done since her mother lost custody, and it reopened a lot of old wounds Reece didn't know how to deal with; she felt really alone in Staten Island, and she didn't want to reach out to anybody, so she started drinking again, something she kept a secret for as long as she could. Of course, Richard eventually caught on, and he helped Reece to get sober again; the other wards will probably be vaugely aware that Reece is set to collect her 7-month chip in a couple of weeks. Another thing Reece kept a secret, albeit successfully, this time: she started dating a guy she met at an open mic night she preformed at (aspiring comic in new york lets goooo) five months ago, even though recently recovered addicts are generally supposed to hold off on dating anyone until they've been sober for at least a year, for the sake of stability in sobriety. The relationship was turbulent to start—he negged her comedy routine–but it was combative in a way that Reece found kind of... comfortable, maybe? It was passionate, kind of hot and heavy, and Reece moved in with him right away; however, the relationship very recently came to a head—what had always been a fiery relationship eventually progressed into Jack manipulating & mistreating Reece, including a few instances of physical abuse. So, Reece will be rocking up to the Woodrow House for the funeral with a black eye and a bandaged nose, less than a week off of a break-up, and in need of somewhere to live (she'd been planning on couch-surfing during the process of trying to get her old apartment back </3).

John Hancock x Fem!Sole Survivor- holy matron

{{ TW: Drug use, biblical references ig?, intense feelings}}

In Hancock’s opinion, taking up with the vault-dweller had saved him. Feeling like a fraud was no good, but walking around Goodneighbor made it worse. It only fed his increasing self-loathing, and then in turn, his chem habits. He spent most of his time either in his office absolutely fucked out of his face, or stamping out get-rich-quick schemes he would have given an arm and a leg to be a part of with people and ghouls he would have been glad to call his partners, and it was weighing on him. If he wasn’t concerned about the threats to his people, it was his own personal demons that taunted him. So many times he’d thought about taking just one too many Day-tripper, just to see how close he could get to the edge without going over (although he was more than sure that if he did tumble off of the edge, he wouldn’t have given a shit anyway).

Constantly grappling with his inner self; he felt like two men consistently battling for the right to live, the stronger of the two dictating his actions at the time. The coward who he desperately wanted to bury, urging him to just hide under his covers and take as much jet as he could not to feel anything, the degenerate who’d allowed a fellow drifter to meet their end at the hands of Vic and his boys- and the ghoul he’d forcibly become. The ghoul who treated his citizens with care, the ghoul who would stand up for what was right no matter the cost, famous for his freedom loving attitude and warm hospitality. He figured he’d get a little soul searching out of their travels together initially, but he ended up discovering a whole different way to be. Sole Survivor’s bottomless confidence and kindness had revived the way he thought about the Commonwealth and the people in it, and quite frankly, it had scared him. He’d never expected such a change to blossom within him, and it ignited an intense fire. The type of fire that had shown him he was thinking too small in terms of personal goals. This woman had somehow managed to co-ordinate a bunch of tattered strangers into becoming a trusted outfit (a feat, considering the name “Minutemen” often left a shitty taste in people’s mouths), all the while searching for her son and taking the fucking Institute on. If she could do that all at the same time, he could at least try and get his shit together.  When they woke in the mornings, he was more excited to start the day with her, not terrified, high, and preparing for that day to be his last in the wastelands. Maybe some things would never change- like his habitual chem use, but he didn’t force Buffout and Mentats down his throat as soon as his eyes cracked open just to deal with the thought of being alive, most days. Sometimes it was bad, and he felt like he couldn’t move from the pile he’d put himself into, but she would always be there to lend him a hand, out of the dark hole and into the light again. He was sure the Commonwealth had brought forth an angel, a dazzling burst of sunshine on his radiation-clouded day. She listened to everything and anything he had to say, and the more he talked, revealing the sorer parts of himself, the more he realised the fondness he had for her was developing into something more tangible, something real. She had too many shining qualities for him not to be attracted to her- and like a moth to a flame, he was sucked in.  Guilt ate at him most days after he realised how he felt about her. He felt like he was betraying the trust his friend had placed in him to travel with her as a companion- his widowed friend, no less. She didn’t really talk about her spouse, Nate, only if something small came up- like if a song came on that he used to like, or when they’d eat sugar bombs and she would smile a sort of painful smile, recounting how she’d throw them at Nate for him to catch in his mouth. There was a part of Hancock that detested Nate- not for loving Sole, but for being such a standard of man that John could never hope to compare himself too. It was unfair of him to do that, he knew that Nate wasn’t the one stopping him from being a better man, but when it came to Sole, Hancock wished he could be nothing short of perfect for her. For starters, he wasn’t smooth-skinned the way she was, and whilst he had confidence, it wasn’t that much confidence. She was ethereal at times, eyes straight from a pre-war film actress that burned into the back of his eyelids. He was well ... He was John Hancock, the guy who’d purposely taken a radiation drug knowing it was about to fuck him up and turn his skin into a pile of brahmin shit, just so he didn’t have to look at his own face anymore. Cause a girl’s gonna find self-mutilation sooo attractive. Sole wasn’t the type to judge on appearance- he was sure of that, but he couldn’t be sure that he was what she wanted, and losing the close bond he had with her over something like this scared him to silence regarding his feelings. He promised himself he wouldn’t read too much into how she acted and responded to him, he knew well enough that she was grieving and probably interpretated his actions as simple kindness, but he couldn’t help the way his chest seized when she interacted with him of her own accord- a guiding hand on his forearm when he was about to turn in the wrong direction, a quick but joyous hug when they received good news- his brain ate those memories up and played on repeat for him to experience, over and over again in the back of his mind. He was starting to feel like a teenager around her, and it was fuckin’ embarrassing. He was the king of ghouls, not some scared teen attracted to the girl next door. She was far from that type of lady anyways, hard to picture the woman as innocent when he’d seen her take a Raider’s face off with a hunting rifle at point-blank range. “Hancock?” the angel whispered at them from across the campfire. He immediately gave his full attention, not that she’d demanded it.  “Mm?” he made a noise in reply, and her smile washed over him like a sunrise, beautiful and life-giving. He’d bask in her glow for an eternity if she would only let him.  “Do you think the Greentop Nursery folks will be okay? I’m worried the turrets won’t be enough.” She confessed, patting the ground next to her to search for her cigarette carton and flip-lighter. He almost felt amused at her line of questioning, he was sure that those people were safer than the dickheads in Diamond City with how many defences she’d created and repaired when they visited. “Between the turrets and the traps ya’ set up? More than okay. We’re not too far from ‘em though, could always check in tomorrow.” He offered, and she seemed to turn his suggestion over in her mind as she lit the cigarette, and enhaled. “Alright, We’ll check tomorrow- I just wanna make sure the Greenskins stay gone this time, that’s all.” She said, idly glancing at their surroundings, as if the very mention of a Super-Mutant would cause one to come crashing out of the bushes at them, Mini-Nuke in hand. He stared at her for a moment too long, and she gestured at her face. “Something there?” She rubbed at her cheeks, paranoid for dust marks or otherwise. He laughed, shaking his head.” No, but if there was i’d probably just let it sit, see how long it took ya’ to notice.” She rolled her eyes at him, throwing a rock at him, which just bounced off the tree he was sat near, and settled by a puddle on the floor. “Nice, real nice. What if ya’ took me eye out? What then? I’d be a one-eyed ghoul and it’d be your fault.” He sniffed, playfully. She actually considered the prospect, and grinned as she puffed at her cigarette. “I’d lead you around, tell everyone you lost your eye trying to chat up a Deathclaw.” She mused, exhaling some smoke, and he snorted. “Ya’d still lead me around though, feel like I win there.” He pointed out, and she grunted in reply. He grinned, he loved that noise. It was an old-man habit she had, unable to admit she was wrong, but not proud enough to dismiss him completely. He fished around in his pocket for his Berry Mentats, and pilfered two for himself, throwing them back like they were shots of whiskey. She spotted the box, and sweetly batted her eyelashes at him, silently asking for some. He rose a (long-gone) brow, and held the box up in the light the fire provided, so they could both see the faded design. “Ya’ want some of these? I dunno..” He pretended to be all beat up about her asking, masquerading as a ghoul who truly cared about his chem supply. “I just feel like keepin’ ‘em all too myself.” He continued, eyes trailing to hers to see what she would do with his defiance. She processed the moment, and a playful expression touched her features.  She suddenly shrieked at the top of her lungs, pointing over his shoulder with a terrified face, and to her credit, it startled him enough for him to turn and look. She scrambled forward, hand shooting out to take the Mentats from him, but he was faster- leaning back and holding them up and out of reach, arching away from her. “I’ve been around too long for that to work on me, nice try though.” He taunted, waving the packet around. She huffed, but quickly went in for another attack. Hancock felt himself involuntarily gasp when Sole launched herself at him with such force that it sent both of them toppling to the ground, her arms coming to pin his forearms to the floor, causing his tricorn hat to fly off, abandoned next to them on the floor. He was vaguely aware of the way her legs straddled his stomach, but he couldn’t even form thoughts to react, especially when a smile so wolfish and greedy eclipsed her that it had his brain factory reset. He was too close to her, the fire illuminated her in a warm and inviting glow, she was so close he could count her eyelashes if he wanted too, and oh how he wanted. He wanted to know everything about her, wanted to know what made her smile when she felt down, wanted to know what made her mad; how he could make her happy again. “I’ve been alive for over two-hundred years, John. Nothing works on me, either.” She taunted him, proud at their role reversal. All he could do was watch, wide-eyed as she shifted her weight, easily grabbing the box of Mentats from him (like he’d ever put up a fight). She tipped one out into her hand, and dropped it into the back of her throat, swallowing her ‘stolen’ chems with a slight grimace at the taste. Hancock was sure this was as close as he’d ever get to heaven, watching her felt like observing a miracle up close. He watched in a trance as her attention finally turned back to him, completely enraptured by her movements. He watched as she analysed him, and she opened her mouth to talk to him, but whatever it was that she wanted to say slipped away as her pupils expanded, eating away at her irises until they were tiny slivers, pupils gorging themselves on any light that strayed too close. She shuddered, allowing the chem to sink into her. This felt holy, her grace flooding him. He felt naked, stripped bare of his corporal form, for her to view all of his sins underneath her. It was too much, too fast. His brain reeled at her perfume; tones of amber and sandalwood, and his body reacted before his brain had chance to sign off on the idea. In true John Hancock fashion, he told her the one thing he absolutely shouldn’t have.  “I might be in love with you.” he stumbled out, and he froze when his thought process caught up with the rest of his body, gasping and furious about being left out of the decision, waving a shiv at him. She stared at him in silence, processing his words, and he sucked in a breath when she didn’t back away from him, but instead increased the amount of weight she was using to lean on him. He was pinned underneath her now, not that he could consider moving- the gaze she fixed him with was intense, he felt like he could set ablaze any minute if she willed it.  “You’re either in love with me, or you aren’t. You don’t maybe love someone.” Her words burned his ears, and he trembled as his brain, riddled with Mentats, tried to summon a response. “I do love you.” He managed, heart beating in his ears. She leaned closer to him, absorbing his amended confession with a furrow of her brow. “Tell me again.” She demanded quietly, and John experienced her in a way she’d never allowed before. Her face was flushed, revealing her excitement- her eyes held a far-away desperation, a need to feel wanted, to feel loved. Hancock didn’t give a shit if anyone overhead him, he held her gaze as he told her again.  “I love you.” She didn’t ask, but he continued to repeat the words to her like they were a prayer, and each time he said them, she got a little closer, a little more relaxed by his devotion to her. He would become a martyr for her cause, no matter the personal cost. She finally closed the gap, and they shared a kiss. It was a little rough, the Mentats in both of their systems meant they couldn’t afford the same grace they’d have sober. She pulled away, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and her lips remained there for a moment to whisper to him.  “Love me, John. Love me for as long as you can.”  

Fandom: Fallout 4 Relationship: Deacon/female Sole Survivor Rated: G Words: ~400 Prompt: embrace (kinktober alternate list)

She wanted the comfort, some moment where she didn't have to be a General or a Fixer or a survivor. She just wanted to be a grieving widow and a worried mother. Just for a moment.

[neocities] [AO3]

Terrible Fic Idea #55: Harry Potter, but make it Roaring Twenties

In what is possibly my most terrible idea yet, I've been contemplating all those HP fics which insist that if only Tom Riddle had been raised correctly, he'd never have become Voldemort - or would have at least gone about his goal in a more sane fashion. I tend to agree with this idea, as the idea that anyone is born evil seems incredibly naive.

Yet if I was a time traveler desperate to save my society, I don't know if I could take that same position - yes, I sincerely believe that no one is born evil, but am I willing to risk the future on the chance I'm wrong? Or: what if a female!Harry Potter traveled back to the 1920s to prevent Tom Riddle's birth?

Just imagine it:

Female!Master of Death!Harry Potter has witnessed the end of British Wizarding society. Voldemort is not solely at fault for it - magic has been declining for generations, as Dark and Light become unbalanced, but he definitely speeds the process along. Hyacinth (as we shall call her moving forward) decides to travel back in time to 1925 with the intent to prevent Voldemort's birth, which should hopefully provide Wizarding Britain time to restore the balance.

Hyacinth takes on the identity of 16-year-old Hyacinth Peverell, the only survivor of a fire at the Peverell Estate - and thus heiress to a grand fortune, but for the moment in the care of her paternal grandmother's brother, a retired professor living in Greater Hangleton.

The Riddles, being rampant social climbers, encourage Tom Riddle Sr to get close to her - which she somewhat bemusedly allows on the basis that keeping this Riddle close will prevent Merope from getting the chance to drug him with love potion.

(Not, of course, that Merope is around anymore. A quick spell or two saw Marvolo and Morfin kill each other off in a "drunken" altercation and the underage Merope taken away by the Ministry. But Hyacinth is covering all her bases.)

Meanwhile, Tom Riddle does his best to seduce Hyacinth Peverell, which results in the pair being wed in early 1926 and a pregnancy announced not long after.

On December 31, 1926 Hyacinth gives birth to their son - Thomas Tristian Riddle. Though it takes Hyacinth a few months to realize it, her son bears the soul of Voldemort from her original timeline, with his memories largely locked away until he's old enough to process them, circa 7-11 years old.

This is originally where I thought of ending a short one-shot... but then I thought, why not lean into the unhealthy, creepy element that would surely arise between a Voldemort obsessed with a witch who was once his prophesied downfall and who is now his loving mother? I'm not just talking codependent here but full-on Electra Complex, with a heavy layer of Child Supplants Parent directed toward Tom Sr for abandoning Merope in the original timeline.

Hyacinth becomes pregnant with a daughter in 1931? She's suddenly widowed when Tom Sr dies in a car crash with his mother. Tom Sr's father makes a drunken pass at Hyacinth while morning his wife and son? He's found to have committed suicide a few days later, leaving Tom Jr heir to his estates. Hyacinth gives birth to a daughter, Daphne? Well, Tom Jr restrains himself to keeping most of his mother's attention on him, but the threat is always there.

For added terrible fic factor, Hyacinth should be aware of what her son is doing and subtly encouraging it, having been almost as obsessed with Voldemort in the original timeline as he was with her and not realizing how much she'd miss her beloved enemy after he was gone. Perhaps she should have even ensured she'd get pregnant with Tom Jr at the precise time he would have been conceived originally, having decided that she couldn't bear not to have him in the world despite that being her whole raison d'etre for coming to the past. Hell, perhaps her whole marriage to Tom Sr should be a way of trying to fill the void Voldemort left in her life to begin with.

That's all I really have - just the idea that what could have been a very creepy one shot could easily evolve into an incredibly creepy full-length fic depending how hard one wants to develop and explore the layers of obsession and unhealthy mother-child relationship. Depending on how twisted you make Tom Jr as a child with a whole soul and Hyacinth after how many centuries of being the undying Master of Death in a dying magical world... well, there's a lot of room to play.

Bonuses include: 1) Tom Sr's father being the result of an affair between his mother and Marvolo Gaunt's father. He's unaware of the relationship, but it's enough for that thread of magical heritage to pass down Tom Jr in his new body regardless; 2) While we're at it, let's make Tom Sr's mother the third-generation descendant of a cast-out Black squib; 3) Hyacinth pretending to be your average 1920s upper-class housewife by day while secretly moving through magical circles by night, subtly pushing a pro-Grey, pro-greater secrecy agenda at the great and powerful of the magical world; 4) The suggestion that Voldemort's madness came as much from his muggle father's family as his inbred mother's: Tom Sr's father should express psychopathic tendencies, Tom Sr himself should be something of a sociopath, and Tom Sr's mother should be as much a Black as it's possible to be without magic; and 5) As much I can't believe I wrote this as the author can humanly manage.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt, just link back if you ever do anything with this genuinely terrible fic idea.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

Hey there, hello! Welcome to tumblr! Please tell me about your OC, I'd love to know about them! As much as you feel like writing down!💖

Thank you for the ask :D!

So I have... a few OCs for Fallout (This isn't even all the Fallout characters I have, just some of the ones I write about the most). The one I probably focus on the most though is the first one, on the left. His name is William S. Moore (although we'll just be calling him Moore, since that's what he prefers to go by). I might make more posts for the other three (plus the ones who don't have full references yet) in the future! But for now... I wanna talk about my little guy...

(pictured: a young Nora and Liam Moore)

William Shepard Moore, Sole Survivor of Vault 111, Sad Widowed Father of Several

(Pre-war)

Born the 9th of September of 2033, Moore's family originates from Ireland-- however, they quickly relocated to America to seek better opportunities for their only son, and so the family moves from Europe to Massachusetts. Moore always showed prowess more for history & literature than science, always being fascinated by world history, and more importantly, law. Being raised in a world with a constant fear of Communism, he sought to understand politics and the government that seemingly caused nothing but fear and panic in his family & friends. Despite how gifted he was, he was quite the trouble-maker, and his father believed that enlisting in the army would whip him into shape, just as it had done for him. Graduating at 18 in 2051, Moore decided to take his father's advice, and enlisted in the army.

His behavior was relatively clean while enlisted, and it wasn't until a war-time injury occurred two years later, with shards of grenade shrapnel made its way right near his right eye, that Moore found himself in dire trouble. While he lived and escaped the injury relatively unscathed vision-wise in the end, he was given a nasty facial scar, and the treatments and surgeries were plentiful and painful. Luckily for him, though, the nurse who took care of him most often was another soldier named Nora. When he was inevitably [honorably] discharged to rehabilitate from the injury, he promptly enrolled in college, deciding to study American Law. When he found out that Nora had enrolled in the same college as him, he jumped at the opportunity to try and befriend her, and throughout their long college years, they fell in love, and eventually got married after both got their masters in their respective fields.

Moore had a comfortable life as a lawyer; he was happy with Nora, with plenty of money to spare. Although the two of them believed they would likely never have the family they wanted due to Nora's chronic illnesses, it was discovered that Nora was pregnant with their first and only son-- a miracle baby, to say the least. Such a miracle inspired Moore to finally pursue something he had dreamed of for years, which was running for Mayor of Boston. He believed he could make the world better for his son, and he had already worked so hard on what he would do if he were to run, so he decided to run for office in 2076, just a year before the bombs fell. Although he had many supporters behind his back, his detractors were many; it had become exceptionally clear through media leaks that Moore had not been given the most mentally stable of minds, and many believed his PTSD made him entirely unfit for office; some using it as ammo to fire at his more left-leaning values. Moore was already exceptionally shy, but this treatment made him regress into his shell-- he forced upon himself a "perfect political persona," of sorts, completely repressing anything undesirable, and causing him to become more toxic in his own views of his masculinity. He would never get to see if this strategy worked, as the bombs fell before election day.

(pictured: post-war Moore)

(post-war)

Moore's story has many themes; it is him finding who he is while trying to survive the wasteland, and just as importantly, trying to find the family that he had lost so many centuries ago. The Wasteland of the Commonwealth is a ravenous, unloving beast, but while it may be cruel, there are some hidden good-sides to its chaos.

The first few months out of the vault were a kind of hell that Moore cannot even remember. He actually has no recollection of the time he spent in Diamond City or Goodneighbor, much to the dismay of Hancock. No one (including Moore) knows how he survived so long by himself, given the intense dissociative episodes from the new trauma of losing his entire family, and the Commonwealth itself being a never-ending reminder of the battlefield. The only reason he found his footing was because he had managed to accidentally stumble into Goodneighbor; the kindness of the residents to take him in and nurse him back to health while he was in his absent, half-dead state is one he can't remember, but still appreciates. Hancock was the one who paid out of pocket for the stranger to receive treatment ("no one is dyin' in my town. Not if I can help it.").

He befriends Preston Garvey afterwards, and the small group begin rebuilding what they can as they try to help Moore find his son. Moore takes quite well to the role of a leader of the Minutemen; he didn't think he would, but it makes him feel a bit better knowing he has people to back him up. It takes him many, many months to begin tracking down leads for where the Institute and his son might be, and he makes a few unlikely friends along the way... mainly the Mayor that took care of him way back when.

Moore is bad at forgetting, and hates remembering. He only travels constantly because he feels the need to be away from things that remind him of a life he no longer has. Nothing hurts more than the loss of his wife. Nora was more than the world to him; she took care of him, and he dedicated his life to her in return. Sanctuary reminded him of her, the songs on the radio about love, the giant Hubflowers that bloomed her favorite color... He hated remembering her, because he hated that he could never have her, again. His strong, fiery, extroverted wife, with a passion for ridiculous clothes, a girl who always spoke her mind.

...It sounds a little familiar, huh?

He didn't really realize this with Hancock, at first. He just thought he enjoyed the company, enjoyed not being alone... but when he did realize, it was initially so painful that he sent John home, much to the despair of seemingly both of them. So many things about their relationship was deeply painful. He had so far buried the idea of being queer, the idea of being vulnerable around someone, the idea of being himself... that he had forgotten what it was like to be happy with his life.

It takes him a while to really unpack this. To realize how much he'd accidentally fucked over his friendship with a man who had gone out of his gosh-darned way to take care of him... Just like Nora did. It's a lot to deal with the realization that you don't like the person you made, but it's a start. He realizes how much he actually cares about the people around him, the society he's helping foster... and that if he doesn't tell them now, he may never be able to, tomorrow.

While he falls in love both literally with someone and with the community he swears to protect, he finds the Institute, and his son. The son who terrorizes everything he now loves. It's hard for Moore to bear; the baby his Nora was so, so excited to love, is now telling him to his face that he cared little about the lives of his own parents. And despite how much it pains him, he can't let go. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), the world had already decided for Shaun to go, and so Moore spent his time learning about the facility around him as he watched his only flesh and blood pass.

Taking up the role of the Director, Moore is uninterested in "destroying" the Institute; there is too much good being done here to slaughter so many innocent people. He essentially tells the boards, "we cannot keep torturing the people on the surface, and if you don't discontinue these unnecessary projects my son started, I will be more forceful," and with some... helpful suggestion from the Railroad and his now much-larger Minutemen army, he successfully turns the Institute into a place of proper medical study and aid for the surface. In return, he stages a false explosion on the surface; the people of the Commonwealth now truly believe the Institute is gone, and with the boogeyman dealt with, the Institute could operate in relative peace, with the silent safety-net of the Minutemen army (given they honored their side of the deal: no more synths, more research in cultivation and medical science).

(pictured: post-story Moore)

Nowadays, Moore serves as a kind of Governor for the top-half of the Commonwealth, controlling most of the Greater Boston Area and above. He is romanced with Hancock (obviously), and spends most his time dealing with legal Government work, as well as trying to keep peace between his land and the land that the Gunners and Rust Devils claim. Although he's not perfect, he's learned what he's here for, and has found more peace and love within himself that he did not have before the war. He's also cybernetically-enhanced; thanks to an "accident" regarding laser rifles, his left eye was amputated and replaced with a prosthetic (formerly synth) eye, and he also has similar life-extension technology that Kellogg used to use. He tries to live a quieter life with his synth son Shaun and his partner John with the rest of his friends, but God knows that Plot Shenanigans love striking.

That's all the major information on Moore!! If you actually read this entire post, thank you! I appreciate it. And thank you for the ask again! I was honestly procrastinating on posting him for a while despite how much I absolutely adore him ;_; .

Master List of Fallout Protagonists & Next Step for JJK Abridged/Fallout Reaction fic

With the protagonists characters profiles released, you should have a general idea on what these OCs of mine are like. Below are links on where to directly find them.

Fallout - Elrand Brandt, the Vault Dweller (aka, homesick engineer too tired for this shit)

Fallout 2 - Finidy Mona, the Chosen One (aka, the Elder's daughter with the weight of the world on her shoulders, somehow gets caught up with the mob and what remains of the American Government)

Fallout 3 - Alph Dolen, the Lone Wanderer (aka, daddy's boy and Finding Nemo if Marlin (James) went off to get some milk (Project Purity) and Nemo (Alph) took Dory (Amata) to go find him).

Fallout New Vegas - Ryder, the Courier Six (aka, the Magnificent Bastard playing all sides of the war to achieve an elevation in her power).

Fallout 4 - Nate Gust Sarid, the Sole Survivor (aka, sad widowed dad looking for his son, becomes general of down-on-their-luck underdogs to try and make peace with the other factions (except for the Institute and Nuka World's Raiders) because joining them weren't that appealing).

Fallout 76 - Vega, the Resident (aka, the most delusional motherfucker ever, and is the reason America wasn't rebuilt faster).

With that out of the way, the next step in the JJKA/Fallout React Fic is to publish polls where YOU can decide which Fallout character gets to be a variant of the JJK Abridged cast, and have the canon characters react to them.

The length of time for a poll will vary depending on how frequent of a character they are (e.g. main cast or notably important characters get up to a week, minor characters get less than that). Another thing, due to posting polls for the entire cast will be tedious (and since Schmuck Squad's JJK Abridged is still ongoing), I will only post character polls before a chapter is made/can be published, and only include the characters that appear in the episode, as that allows me some breather.

Polls will also include pictures of the JJKA character and the potential Fallout candidates who YOU get to decide plays as the variant, with reasonings why I believe they'd suit the character best. There will be a "other Fallout character" option, if you pick that, reblog and put into the tags on who you would want to play as that character.

If you're a little lost on what I'm trying to say, go check out my original post in regard to this "Fallout characters React to JJKA variants of themselves" right here.

Anyway, hope you enjoy, and polls will be published out soon.

Profile ~ Ya'chi Aarushi

☼ Roots ☼

話 "I'll make sure you're on the winning side." 話 - Full Name: Ya'chi Aarushi - Namesday: Fifth Astral Moon, 17th Sun - Blood Type: AB - Patron Sign: Azeyma, the Warden. - Gender: Female - Nationality: Hingan - Age: You Know Better. - Height: 5 Fulms 11 Ilms - Weight: You Know Better. - Build: Fit, Hourglass - Voice: ~ (Ref) - Debut Chapter: Soon - Ancestry: Dharma - Race: "Seeker of the Sun" - Clan: Aarushi, Shozen, Zheng - Crew Role: Third Mate

✯ Core✯

- Alignment: Story-Dependent - Sexuality: Pan - Marital Status: Widow - (10) - Personality Traits: Flirtatious, Experienced, Wise, Versatile, Lethal, Tease, Confident, Gleeful, Reliable, Effective. - (0-6) - Most Potent Qualities: Experienced, Unabashed, Gleeful, Flirtatious, Outgoing, Reliable. - Quirks: Acts cat-like, enjoys teasing, disheveled lifestyle, shopping addiction. Purrs and nya's at the end of sentences, licks her wounds. - Weaknesses: Bargain sales, Shiny extravagant things are likely to be cat-burglarized, Misplaces clothes, Messy when it comes to her own domicile, Will most likely hit on your parents. - Appearance: Alarming, disarming, shocking, this cougar freezes you a one of a kind bountiful beauty, comes crashing down into life's orbit, whether it'll be your end, one can't say it wasn't a pleasure ever fulfilling, their last sight was her. An assassin of life that strikes to preserve all and what she can get. - Scars: (Faded) Wrist scar, (Faded) Various battle-scars - Tattoos: N/A - Piercings: Ears, Belly, The Sacred Realms - Primary Residence: Worldly Finder, Roamer. - Wealth: Rich, but prefers to attain things freely. - Achievements: Unlike her associate, Hoku Solaire. Or other contractors in the Black Miracle, she has kept her semblance of emotions and mastered them, for weaponizing. She's an impressive body-count of 16954. (Kills & Ongoing) A prime-part of Doma Resistance against Garlemald. Hoku has been her lifetime crush, overtime resulted into becoming a valuable companion that's extended to his Dynasty. The contrast of Hoku's reserved, emotionless teachings. Beaming with light. Sharing equally in their effectiveness at manslaughter. Yin & Yang. Sole-Survivor of two clans. - Influence: Silent - 5 Foods: Goat, Nuts, Vegetables, Fruit, ("Hearts") - 5 Drinks: Juice, Milk, Sake, Tea, Latte - Profession: Shinobi, Assassin, Mentor, Sensei, Yoga Instructor, Spy, Espionage, Thief, Interrogation, Torturer, Hired-Killer, Investigator, Yokai Huntress, Esthetician. - Hobbies: Yoga, Acrobatics, Massages, Exotic Dancing, Disguising, Sunbathing, Guru, Flashy Fashionable, Volleyball, Spas, Meditation. - Experiences: Mentoring, Assassination, Infiltration, Spying, Guru. - Favorite Color: Vibrant - Language: Hyper Polyglot - Prior Mentors: Old Clan Sensei's, Black Miracles

❤ Relations❤

☝ Allies - (Major Supporters / Family / Friends) Wild Crew Hoku Solaire Zheng Clan ☟ Antagonists - (Rivals - Enemies) Black Miracle Rival Contractors Crewmate's Dream & Loyalty Mission: Find a suitable partner and get married. That's it. Relationship w/ Captain: (OOC Commentary) Ya'chi has a long-standing relationship with Solaire's family, starting with Hoku, Captain's Father. After some-events, she finds herself needing to stick around for a troubling War that ensues with the family. She becomes a vital Sensei, instructing Klethera to develop her young latent skills, then extending to other various members of the Crew. Her experience proves valuable and Motherly company, being one of the only few who truly can lethally contend with what's to come. Overtime blossoms as she becomes a Killer Queen of the Goldbrand, one of the multiple-faces alongside Jack, Ace, King of the Crew's Royal Flush (The Elite Four). Versatile in every role and can be placed into any position, tasked or given. Captain is a strong benefactor for her and vice-versa, sharing strongly kindred souls. Whatever happens Captain will ensuring be her Best Man. Mount: Camel "The Great Spittah!" Pets:

❀ Prowess❀

Job: Enlightened One

Ya'chi's Move-set

Goddess Step: Mastered Shukuchi can use it multiple times or carry others. Chakra Mastery/Control: Ya'chi is the Lady of the Gates. Able to open and utilize all seven vortex-energies and their consciousness for various properties, or unlocking for others; destructive or restorative, depending what energy is emitted. Positive or Negative. In two-states: (Inner: Done to Her), (Outer: Done to Another)

"Purple" (Crown): Inner: Her strength amplifies, teeth turning monstrous. Her Huton is now a violent-vortex consistently active. Complexion mutates revealing her truth and full spiritual awakening. Outer: (Negative+): She is slashing resistant, destructively enrages from wounds, will regenerate old wounds. (Positive+): Restores a memory or removes if desired. "Pink" (Third Eye): Inner: Detects the influx of aether, in the dark, paranormal, spirits, etc. Determining how much stamina an opponent has left. Exploit and assault her opponent depending on the flow of where aether is most-concentrated and can zoom-in. Rich-energy glows around her transformed bloody scarlet-red eyes. Outer: (Negative+) Becomes invisible to her opponent; removed from their plain sight. (Positive+) Strengthens another's sight; see what she does. "Blue" (Throat): Inner: Rearranges her vocal-cords, pitches, allowing her to imitate dialects, change octave deliverance, flawlessly impersonating someone. Outer (Negative+): Unleash sound attacks, piercing-battle shriek, that will uproariously attempt to knock people away or incapacitate. (Positive+): Rallies allies to break out of restraints. "Green" (Heart): Inner: Controls the tempo and lowers her heart-rate to impossible-degrees, detection, ability to sense her movements, become vanished. It'll take an extra overload of one's perceptions to keep up with her. Outer (Negative+): Vascular density in Ya'chi's forearms tense, her nails sharpen, her hands were meant to rip out other's hearts from their chest nearly effortlessly, she can shred through metal, catch and slash against steel-blades with her own arms. (Positive+) Hand on chest of a target, she opens an individual's Chakra up, by emitting and guiding her own. The innate ability to recover wounds is magnified on all realms. "Yellow" (Solar Plexus): Inner: She dismantles every doubt, fear, her strength, quad, biceps, muscles enlarge, allowing her to break out of chains, physically, mentally and spiritually. Her confidence becomes lively-active, no equal, no belief in defeat! She must win courses through her system. The mindset of the victorious! Outer (Negative+): Stricken in the navel, makes her opponent stunned, short of breath, sinking dread activates, they remember why they're fighting... They forget why they even started. If their resolve is unsteady, they will continue below into obscurity; questioning all of their existence, until paralyzed. Never to fight again, unless they can recover their breath. (Positive+) This technique will trigger adrenaline to anyone. They will become brave and bold in the faces of any peril or death temporarily. "Orange" (Sacral): Inner: Unleashes water aspect , her movements become fluid and precise. Cut flames, walk in fire itself, or quell them from feeling the properties of such. Using various combat-arts to unleash tidal-waves. Creativity widens, so does her insatiable urges. Outer (Negative+): Poked at the lower belly-button she can make one's internal emotions become increasingly amplified that will make them spiral (So if they're angry-spirited, it'll make them go ballistic; likely to attack everything insight, etc.) (Positive+) She departs emotion from herself raw, into another, removing a piece of her own core. Depriving herself of a feeling, to grant another. "Red" (Root): Inner: Balance control, when active her tail will become fluffier and thick, allowing her to springboard off or smack opponents, carry additional weapons. She can bend, evade in bridges with burning feline grace. Outer (Negative+): Is when she strikes an opponent in their spine, and takes them off balance, depending what point of the spine she hits expertly, she can control how her opponent will walk, fight, or fall in balance. (Positive+) Heals spinal damage or nerves. Proficiency: Anything is a weapon to her. Signature: You Died, Oopsie! ~ Finishers ~ Limit Break: Wheel 7 Form ~ Unlocks 7 Chakra's at once; flowing at the same time. Her prowess accelerates a hundred-fold, for one-minute... She becomes all of her.

⚝ Equipment ⚝ Main Arms: Two Hingashi Swords on her back with different purposes, the scabbards are designed to store-energy; or be keys. Releasing the hilt, unleashes two things entirely, they are not blades. Container: Koban / Gil wallet

Disney's The Haunted Mansion | The Mermaid Ghost Changing Portrait (Disney Cruise Line Version)

Disney just revealed a new changing portrait of the Mermaid Ghost lying on a rock in the island. It's the portrait of the Captain's Bride. The Captain's Bride is a character that will be featured in the Haunted Mansion Parlor aboard the Disney Treasure (Disney Cruise Line). The Ocean Liner Captain first met his bride when answering a distress call from a nearby vessel and finding her floating among the wreckage as the sole survivor. Taken in by her beauty, he fell in love and the two became inseparable before their ill-fated wedding. Much like Constance Hatchaway, she is a hatchet wielding black widow, though is actually a siren/mermaid in disguise. The parlor's Aquarium with Ghost Fish, which has a padlock matching the key around her neck, was used to dispose of the body, with the Captain's hat being all that remained. This painting, of course, is inspired by the Werecat Lady changing portrait from the Disney Theme Park Attraction.