#bioshock

[squidinu]

whatever. go my scarab

[madcat-world]

From 6vcr

http://coub.com/view/rjyoa

[emmanuel-the-manual]

Evolve today!

[river-of-wine]

Free my girl she did all of that but only after she was imprisoned

[dadtron-3000]

Apple of my eye 🍎

[firestark-addict]

My poor son…

(Colored HD version of my Jack doodle)

[opheliajupiter99]

//Two days late, but I just realized it's the one year anniversary of this fanfic! I wrote on March 26th 2024 :D

Once Upon a Rapture

(I don't usually do full-blown fics for AU's, especially not human-based ones, but goddamnit this was too good an idea)

The metal floor of a long-abandoned, rust riddled hall creaked heavily under the weight of the creature that lumbered through it. A hulking monstrosity of metal and flesh, tanks hefted upon its back, with tubing running all throughout its body, and a diving suit fused to its very skin; what little was left of it, anyways. A Big Daddy, as the locals knew it, specifically a Rosie model, a rivet gun in one of its arms, that hung down by its legs, the chains wrapped tightly around each wrist producing a hideous grinding sound as they scrapped against the metal floor.

This is what became of prisoners in Rapture. In the old days, these men were enslaved to help construct and maintain the city, able to go beyond its glass walls and travel through the ocean itself. But now, they were enslaved to a different purpose, a purpose this beast was lumbering towards this very moment. Its slow, almost laborious motion came to a stop before a tall, slender vent upon one of the walls. In most cities, vents were little more than a means of way going through and the occasional rat, but here, they were home to one of the most important members of this society - at least, in regard to ADAM production, the drug that made the whole city run-round.

The Big Daddy rose a hefty metal fist and knocked twice upon the vent, the sound echoing throughout the hall. After a moment of silence, soft clunking from the depths of the vent were quickly followed by a pair of small feet swinging out from the darkness, the sight making the once yellow glow from the beast's helmet turn to green.

Out from the vent crawled a small girl, clad in a filthy green dress with a red and white checkered smock over it, the pocket of which she quickly retrieved a pair of large, circular glasses, which she put over her eyes, making her already glowing yellow eyes seem to burn even bright under the lenses. As well as the glowing eyes, she had corpse grey skin, and she held in one hand a metal needle, very clearly designed for the very purpose of being wielded by a small child, which had attached to it a baby bottle, ready to be filled with crimson liquid. She was a Little Sister, as the locals would know it, essentially drug mules, genetically engineered to gather and carry the wonder drug the city craved so desperately.

The girl looked up at the hulking beast and beamed a wide smile, stretching a bit with a soft yawn, then giggling. "Good morning daddy! Let's go to the fountain today!" She declared with a nod, turning around to begin skipping forward down the hall, humming a cheerful tune as the Big Daddy began to lumber along behind her. To the normal eye, this city was horrific, not just in terms of disrepair, but in terms of the depravity and insanity that muddled nearly every nook and cranny of its rusted streets; but to a Sister, the city was not only normal, it was beautiful! Glistening, just as it did at its highest.

The pair emerged from the hall into a much wider space, looking like at one time it was a bustling courtyard, full of hope and civilians of all shapes and sizes, the eager giggles of children and loving looks of couples, but now, was stained with blood and cracked, just as everything else. The girl happily skipped along towards the fountain in the very center, skipping right past a charred corpse and scattered bullet shells, likely from an old fight the previous day.

She climbed into the fountain and began to 'splash' about; the fountain was long since empty, but to a Sister's sight, it was in perfect condition, so she splashed about in the nonexistent water regardless, giggling and swaying her arms from side to side, still holding the needle tightly in one hand. Thankfully, the courtyard was clear of locals this morning, likely because they'd heard the lumbering sounds of a Big Daddy nearby; or they were so hopped up on ADAM they were all still asleep.

The Big Daddy simply stood near the fountain, keeping a close eye on her; beyond their Sister's, Big Daddy's held no other thoughts. He remembered nothing of his farmhouse, of his father, not even of the man he'd traveled down to this city with. None of that mattered now, all that mattered was being a father to his daughter. Nothing. Else.

After a bit of playing, lumbering from the heights of a nearby staircase signaled the arrival of a second Big Daddy, that gradually came into view as the steps creaked under him heavily. It was a different model of Big Daddy, dubbed a Bouncer, short and round in stature, upon one of its arms a large, blood-stained drill, and clutched protectively in the other was another Little Sister.

This Sister was clad in a pink, frilly dress, with ruffles at the bottom and at her sleeves, with a poofy mass of brown hair upon her head that hung over her shoulders, and the same corpse grey skin and glowing yellow eyes as the others - though her grey was a bit darker in tone, and her yellow eyes were wide all by themselves, without the need for magnification, peering out at the word with the inquisitive nature of an owl.

The Sister smiled brightly at the other pair, the girl in the fountain stopping in her splashing to look towards her and return the smile. "Can we play too?" The Sister clad in pink questioned eagerly, to which the Sister in green quickly nodded. "Yeah! Come on!" The Sister in pink squeaked excitedly, her Daddy gently letting her down, retrieving some crayons and paper from a small bag she'd attached around her Daddy's waist before rushing down the stairs with many a giggle.

From there the pair of Sister's spent most of the early morning sat in the fountain, doodling with their crayons and talking back and forth, their father's standing nearby in silence, simply watching, not even acknowledging each other. But that didn't matter.

All that mattered was that the Sister's were happy.

[let-them-fight]

can we stop doing this trope

[the-ow]

ig destacadas ' ★

🪦 ⠀' ⠀삶 ?

(⠀⠀⠀⠀) : texto invisible

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. . .

03 . 0

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

[nihilnimi]

[crypticarchivist]

I agree

I think casting spells should create pretty hand patterns ...

[squidinu]

rapture au with Orion and his tortured husband Max

[katabay]

someone’s hands have always been inside of you

[sweeetestcurse]

Scenery in Bioshock 05/??

[gameplayscenery]

Bioshock (2007) ↳ 1/?