#i will always be over porter's bullshit

[graevelabyss]

You know what genuinely kept me up until 1am last night about FH: Junior Year, the Bad Kids could have been facing such worse enemies if Porter actually thought about who would be best in Kipperlily’s place.

My mind goes directly to Ragh or Hargis, both very powerful kids who were in pretty bad situations. Ragh was wrapped up with the Harvest Men and in denial about his sexuality. Wait I forgot, Porter did try and mess with Ragh with his silly "Barbarian healing", would Porter have tried some shit if the Bad Kids hadn't taken Ragh on Summer break with them? I’m thankful every day the Bad Kids took him in. Hargis in turn also could have dodged a bullet by meeting the Bad Kids. Like a shy theatre nerd that struggles socially with his passion, who is a Goliath fighter no less is a recipe for (not necessarily hate-filled) but a rage-filled disaster. That beige aura really did good for him I think.

AND WHAT ABOUT YELL. Danielle would have been in so much trouble if she didn’t find the Maidens. A socially ostracised girl that can’t find a permanent adventuring party because of her beliefs and actions gets tricked into using her druidic powers to spread the rage-star powder all across Elmville. I am shaking Porter’s shoulders violently rn, BRO. A DRUID. YOU SKIPPED ON A DRUID FOR YOUR EVIL PLAN OML.

Zayn also could have been bad news if Porter got his shit together faster for a similar reason. He. Is. A. Necromancer. A necromancer. And probably one of the most vulnerable people from season 1, just one discussion with Daybreak and it’s a sealed deal but noooo. Please don’t get me wrong, I don’t want any of the students to be brainwashed or even be in the position to willingly take the rage, but man, Porter is just ridiculous.

Holy shit. And what about Zelda. A character so powerful I think that’s one of the reason Brennan played her in The Seven. Her rage is literally divine, Porter could have done something with that, made his own brand of divine rage and offered it to her and others. She was even taking personal lessons from him because her rage was too destructive for normal class.

When the hell did he come up with this plan.

I mean I know it would have been a while ago because of the whole thing with Kalina but I think my point still stands when I say, Porter, my guy, disrespectfully, you could have done so much better than Kipperlily Copperkettle.

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

when i met you (i couldn't measure it)

Ao3 | 2.2k Words | Treasure's POV

(A Firefigher AU one shot)

Over Solaire’s shoulder, a younger man stood, his cool, grey eyes fixed on you. When your eyes met his, his face split into a smile, all straight, perfect, white teeth. You flicked your gaze over his features. High cheekbones, perfect, light hair, a maroon suit that was fitted so tightly around his tiny waist you worried his jacket button would pop if he breathed too hard.

His smile gleamed in the soft house lights, just a bit too sharp.

__

Treasure hates opening nights. William loves the ballet. Porter bums a smoke.

TW: Smoking, shitty friends.

Lil ballet info for you guys: Treasure intentionally dances androgynous parts, ones that both male and female dancers have done in the past. They're noted as playing Clara's younger brother Fritz in their youth (a part I actually got to do once as a little kid) that is often danced by young girls OR young boys. In this production, they're part of the Mouse Army and they dance Coffee, which often has both male and female dancers. While they are noted as dancing en pointe, male dancers have been known to wear pointe shoes on occasion. So really, Treasure's gender is fully up to your interpretation still.

As another note, I used more modern names for the different dances ("Coffee" instead of the "Arabian Dance," "Tea" instead of the "Chinese Dance) since I fully believe that if you can't produce Nutcracker without being weird and racist then you just aren't productive. I saw a wonderful production in which the dancers were in costumes that mimicked the drink or treat they represented instead of loosely racist caricatures. That is the vibe for Treasure's production.

Opening night was always your least favorite performance. There was some vicious, clawing energy that you couldn’t direct, an unpredictability that you didn’t care for. When a show was well run, when you had danced it four or five times in front of an audience and knew the lines of the marley floor, what parts were raised and awkward, slick and worn, you could dance without thinking. That was always your favorite part of it, when your conscious thought could drift away and your body took over. 

Dancing was never about your brain. It was about your body. 

Nutcracker was a touch different. You danced it nearly every year, so the motions of it were never new, just distant enough to be unfamiliar. You had to settle back into the feeling of them, stretching across your skin and muscles. You danced the Mice Army, you danced Coffee or Tea or Peppermint. If it was your lucky year, you’d be tapped for the Grand Pas de Deux and dance your feet raw for six performances before the company went on break for the season. 

It was not your lucky year. A combination of guest dancers and principal promotions left you, the ugly duckling of Dahlia Ballet’s professional company, taking a backseat to the pretty young things that got paraded around in snowflakes. 

You hated opening nights, especially when said opening night heralded a visit from the Ballet’s biggest benefactor. Benefactor sounded very 19th century, but there really wasn’t another word for what William Solaire was to the place. He put more money into the Ballet in charitable donations than the rest of the donors combined, and he had standing season tickets. 

He only came once a year, though, on the opening night of Nutcracker, and took up the empty orchestra box that waited, empty for his return.  

Solaire was set to visit the stage before the performance, and your CEO and artistic director were busy entertaining his weird, rich guy bullshit. You could feel the nervous energy of everybody in the building as you ran through the motions of Coffee one more time before you were called for costumes. 

“He brought someone!” Bridget wacked you with her extended tondeuse, the box of her pointe shoe digging painfully into your hip. You turned sharply, falling out of your formation, and fixed her a pointed look. “Oh shut up, look! He’s hot!” You rolled your eyes and turned, distinctly aware of how little time you had to nail this before you had to move on. Coffee could be a challenging dance; languid and slow, mimicking the twisting steam over a fresh cup. Slow didn’t mean easy. It meant that every inch of your body had to be in your control. It meant that you didn’t get the forgiveness of speed when you fucked up. Fucking up wasn’t an option. 

You flexed and pointed your feet, rose up to releve en pointe, turned in an agonizing circle with your leg in a front attitude. Your shoe caught on an uneven section of the stage. You fell to your heel, raised your head to get your bearings to remember the spot. 

Somebody was watching you. You were a performer. Your body knew when there were eyes on you. You spun your head around until you saw him. 

William Solaire was talking excitedly to the artistic director, motioning to the set dressings with a light in his face. He looked trim and handsome in his tailored tux, and his eyes were fixed with rapt attention on his enthusiastic, if anxious, conversation partners. 

You looked to his right and found the source of your discomfort. Over Solaire’s shoulder, a younger man stood, his cool, grey eyes fixed on you. When your eyes met his, his face split into a smile, all straight, perfect, white teeth. You flicked your gaze over his features. High cheekbones, perfect, light hair, a maroon suit that was fitted so tightly around his tiny waist you worried his jacket button would pop if he breathed too hard. 

His smile gleamed in the soft house lights, just a bit too sharp. 

“Oh my God,” Bridget wacked you with her foot again, “he’s totally looking at me!” 

You turned back to stare at her, your face screwed up in distaste. 

“Jesus Christ.” You snapped. “Are you blind? Are you incapable of turning without kicking me? Should I just move a foot downstage so save myself the bruise?” 

“You don’t have to be an asshole.” Bridget pouted, crossing her arms. She tugged at the hem of her leotard, only serving to prop her bust up even more prominently. She waggled her fingers towards Solaire’s shadow with a grin before turning back to you. “You are such a buzzkill.” 

You huffed, frustrated, and ran a hand over your face before remembering that you already had your stage make-up on. You’d smeared your blush. 

“Fuck me.” You sighed. 

Opening night was always your least favorite performance. Bridget was a bitch, but she was an impeccable dancer. You fell out of a pirouette after four rotations that she took to five. She did lick you twice during Coffee, and she forgot during the battle scene that the toy soldiers and mice were only meant to play fight. You were certain the wack she gave to your ribs with her wooden sword would bruise. 

You hated opening night, but you loved Nutcracker. You always had, since you played Fritz at seven. You sat in the wings and watched the Grand Pas de Deux, counted the Sugar Plum Fairy’s rotations as Cavelier spun her like a top. 

Those fuckers. They were good. Better than you. So was Bridget. So was every other principal dancer in the company. You were falling behind. Plateauing. 

During bows, your eyes drifted to that perpetually empty box to stage right. William Solaire was on his feet, his face lit up in childlike joy, clapping incessantly as the principals took another bow. To his right, just over his shoulder, his mysterious shadow stood as well, clapping slowly, languidly. His eyes were locked on you until the curtain fell. 

Your castmates broke into laughter and applause, cheers and congratulations spread through the softly lit stage. You turned, popped en pointe to stretch out your right hip. Someone caught your elbow and spun you around.  

“You’ve got to get it together on that turn.”  Bridget bitched, her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re embarrassing me.” 

You blinked back at her, shock smacked across your face. The world of ballet could be a cruel, unforgiving one. People often spoke directly and without care for emotions, only results. It shouldn’t have surprised you when she decided to make her point in this particular fashion rather than talk to your director or find a nicer way to get it across. You could appreciate her being up front, at the very least. 

“New marley.” You said, tapping your toe against the stage. “New shoes. New show. I haven’t danced Coffee in like… three years. I’ll be fine tomorrow.” 

Bridget narrowed her eyes at you, her delicate features contorting unflatteringly around a frown. 

“I don’t make excuses.” She bit out. “And I don’t fuck up. So…” 

Another dancer caught her shoulder and she turned, falling naturally into the cheer and jubilation of the post-show. She only spared you one more look before disappearing into the crowd of retiring dancers. 

You made your way to the dressing room, only lingering long enough to snag your coat and lighter before retreating again. It was fucking cold outside and it was probably in your best interest to at least change out of your shoes before you went out for a smoke, but you thought that if you spent another second around everybody’s chatter and laughter and fucking noise you’d actually go insane. 

The costume for Coffee didn’t provide the most cover from the elements. It included a pair of sheer, flowy pains and a skimpy vest that barely covered your chest. You shivered as you planted your back against the back wall of the theater and tugged a cigarette from your pack. Fuck, you were running low. You’d have to stop on the way home. Of course. 

“Can I bum one?” A smooth, british voice called from your right. You jumped, alarmed, and turned.

It was Solaire’s shadow, the handsome, blonde man that had spent the entire night intensely staring you down. You were usually off put by guys that stared, but something about him didn’t set off the alarm bells in your head. 

“Its my last one.” You grumbled, pulled your pack back out. Your hands were fucking freezing, and you shook as you attempted to flick your lights. Thin, cool hands spread over yours, plucked the lighter and both cigarettes from between your fingers. 

“Cheers. You were wonderful, by the way.” The man smiled as he brought both cigarettes to his lips, lit them with the same flame, and took the first, bitter drag before passing one back to you. You pressed it between your lips, wet with his saliva, and breathed in deeply. It warmed you up inside almost immediately. 

“I was alright.” You sighed, smoke obscuring the stranger’s face. You introduced yourself, hand extended. He took it in his, but instead of shaking it, he brought your knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss to them. It would have been corny if it was anybody else, but something about him was so earnest that you blushed, hot and high in your cheeks, up your neck, the tips of your ears. 

“Porter Solaire.” He supplied, stepping back and resting against the cold brick wall. He had a long, black peacoat over his shoulders, leaving his arms free from its heavy sleeves. Even though he had very little cover from the cold, he didn’t shiver or shake, seemingly unbothered by the winter chill. “And I mean it. I don’t give compliments lightly. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.” 

“I was the weakest dancer up there tonight.” You huffed, tapping the filter of your cigarette against your lips in thought. “I’m not conventional. I don’t have the training that the other principal dancers do.” 

Porter snickered, looking down at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“Something funny?” You sneered. Embarrassment crept up your chest and into your throat, turning you mean. You hated that about yourself. 

“No.” Porter said softly. “No, it’s just… I don’t give a damn about ballet. It’s the old man’s favorite, I just got dragged along tonight. But every time you were on stage, I was enraptured. I have no idea if you’re a good dancer, but what I do know is that you’re… something.” 

The way he said something sounded dangerous. You wanted to watch his mouth form around the word a few more times. 

The back door creaked open. Bridget stuck her head out into the cold. 

“We’re going to get drinks.” She snapped. “Like… six of us? How big is your car? You can DD, right?” 

“I was about to leave.” You said, gesturing with your half-finished cigarette. 

“Oh, come on.” Bridget said. “It’s enough of a mood killer that you refuse to have a drink, the least you can do is come with. It’s opening night! Come and celebrate with us!” 

“It doesn’t sound much like they’ll be celebrating.” Porter’s voice rose up from behind you. You half turned to look at him. Smoke twirled around him lazily, languidly, twisting tondeuse and attitude turns around his sharp, pretty features. “More like… babysitting.” 

“Oh!” Bridget straightened when she saw him, puffing up her chest in her skimpy Coffee top. Porter’s eyes trailed over her body, but the light that sparked in his grey irises when he looked at you was absent. His eyes took on a sharp, cutting energy that made you shiver. “Hey, you’re with… with Mr. Solaire, right? Do you want to… come along?” She put on her most devastating smile, looking up at him through her lashes. Porter looked down at her, blinked slowly twice before turning his eyes back to you. 

“Do you have dinner plans?” He asked, his face and eyes lighting up. “There’s a lovely little Indonesian place around the corner.”

You looked over to Bridget, who was starting up at Porter like he’d spit at her. Her pretty face was twisted up in disbelief. 

“That sounds great.” You said decisively. “Let me go change and get this shit off of my face.” Porter gave you a sly, curling smile. 

“I’m not complaining about the costume.” His eyes slid to Bridget for a moment, as if to check that she was still watching. The corner of his smile quirked up as his attention fell back to you. One cold hand spread up your exposed ribs as the other snaked under your chin and tilted your face towards his. His thumb traced your jaw, those sharp eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he ducked down. 

His hands were cold, but his lips were warm. Soft and plush, you melted into the feeling of them. Warmth bloomed in your chest. You leaned into him, hand falling to hold onto the lapel of his stupid, fancy suit. Smoke passed between your mouths, acrid, bitter, so fucking warm. 

Bridget was gone by the time you came up for air. 

“Your friends suck.” Porter smiled into your mouth. He didn’t let you go. His cold hands began to warm on your skin. 

“Not my friends.” You snorted. “Coworkers at best. Take me to get Indonesian.” 

“As you wish.” Porter grinned.

[nerdygoth77]

Some of my favorite Porter Gage lines!

“Keep your irradiated ASS away from me” 

“Boss”  

“Piss me off and I’ll still kick your ass from here to the Atlantic.” 

“Sure was fun! Huh Boss?” 

“I ain’t got the brains for mazes” 

“How's it go? “This town ain't big enough for you and me?” Awh nevermind :(“ 

“Ain't no way people paid for this shit, I refuse to believe it.” 

“Who the hell's idea of fun was this shit?”

“Ever feel the tiniest bit hurt that the institute hasn’t tried to replace you with a synth? I mean c’mon! I’m important. I-I’m worth replacing......” 

“Think about it…. If beer is still good after two hundred years.. Is it really something worth drinking?” 

“Personally, wouldn’t ever trust anyone to knock me out with gas or whatever, even if they claimed they were going to help.” 

“Can you imagine… having so much extra shit you’d need someplace to store it all” 

“Not paying ATTENTION-” (I fuck up a lot and trigger traps LOL)

“Not a big fan of being underground, so the sooner we wrap this up the better.” 

“Once upon a time, I suppose folks had nothing better to do than sit around outside”

“Greeaaat, because I ain’t seen enough trees and grass.” 

“Like I hadn’t already seen enough glowing shit to last a lifetime.” 

“Believe it or not, this is more civilized than some places i've lived”

"One of these bugs ever takes me down you tell people I died from trippin’ over my gun, fallin’ off a cliff, anything! It would be less embarrassing.” 

“Places like this….Makes me realize life was mostly shit before the bombs fell” 

“God…. Being in here is soul sucking.” 

“I hope you know where you’re going, I forgot my map.” 

“Least we ain't gotta worry about being hit by a train…..Right?”

“No question that shit was made to last…Maybe the wrong shit but still.”

“Me? I like night time. Something about it just feels right.” 

“You’re a real stunner, ya know that?”

“Are you shittin’ me” 

“Ever seen a dust angel? Bettin’ I could make one.” 

“Shiiiiitt I hate getting weeettt” 

“I’ve got a strong stomach, but ewwugh.” 

“You’re my kind of crazy boss.” 

“Boy do I love watching you work.” 

“Anyone ever tell you….your ass looks great in that vault suit.” 

“Don’t know about you, but I can’t see in the dark.” 

“You’ll always be the overboss of my heart- Hehehehe I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t keep a straight face.”

“Blamo” 

“Sheeeeeettt” 

“Don't mind me, just throwing up a bit in my mouth here.” 

“Damn, I hate insects. Like I needed something else to wipe off my fucking shoes” 

“VerMIN”

Everything. Just everything he says is wonderful. His voice is so fucking sexy.

"I'm not that big of a dick"

"Bullshit. Without me I'd be scraping your guts off the floor"

"Before you start pissing all over the plan, why don't you take a minute to hear me out."

"You ready to listen?"

"You're one ruthless son of a bitch aren't ya?"

"Awwwhh C'mon :("

"Just give this a chance, you might even have a little fun."

"Tell yuh whut."

"Everything all peachy with our friendly neighborhood psychopaths?"

"Welcome home, boss."

"I knew you had it in you."

"Next, the fun stuff."

"You look like shit."

He refers to getting high as "Getting blitz." LOL

"Well that oughta make things more interesting"

"hehehe OOPS."

"The fun we can have in this thing!"

"That one have pictures in it?"

"I like a good haul as much as the next guy-"

"You sure you got everything? There's a few more rocks you haven't picked up."

"I never had the hands for that kind of shit. Glad you do."

"You got some nimble fingers there huh?"

"You okay?" (When he shows concern?? UGH)

"Well now, would you look at that."

"Oh for the love of-"

"You gonna build me something nice?"

"Lookin good, Boss."

"oooh, gutsy."

"Pretty tough mutt you got there." (Any dialogue about Dogmeat is great)

"Aww, look at how nice and clean this is, and I here am, dirtying the place up." (one of my favorites)

There's so so many more but I didn't want this to get crazy long

[gaydenjiirl]

Gonna be so fr, I project a lot onto the listeners so get ready for a lot of just guys

~ Redactedverse Headcannons (Listener edition) ~

Shaw Pack

Angel -

Real name is Angelo (yes I know it’s not much of a change), he/him icon, dresses pretty cozy most of the time but cleans up nicely

He works as a graphic designer Idkw I just feel like that’s right

Darlin -

Jordyn, he/him transmasc

Surprisingly a worry wort when it comes to Sam visiting Will (in past audios ofc)

Gives puppy dog eyes every chance he gets, the man is a menace I tell you

Dresses in a lot of sweaters and hoodies, bro dresses like he’s going to bed in 1910

Would try to cuddle Quinn after he would feed off of him but would get pushed off and would just end up sounding like a kicked dog after

Baabe -

Percy, he/they

He worries when Ash won’t call them “Baabe” and pesters him like a madman

Dresses in a lot of hoodies mostly that Ash steals (when they’re too small for him)

Sweetheart -

Flinn, He/it icon bcz projection

The gayest man you’ll ever meet

dresses in a grungy street style (ie. tight tops, baggy jackets and jeans, lots of chains)

Damn Crew

Freelancer -

Ben (don’t ask), he/it transmasc

Always wearing that D.A.M.N. hoodie bcz he doesn’t want it’s money to go to waste

Had Dear as a professor and could immediately tell that, that was the professor Lasko was talking about

Incredibly sharp book wise but pretty dense street wise

Dear -

Dean (Lasko misheard his name and he went with it) he/him trans masc (there’s a pattern here)

Dresses very dark academia even if he doesn’t mean to but it pairs nicely with Lasko’s light academia clothing

Floral tattoos

Other

Starlight -

Star (yes I know), He/it transmasc

Shit loads of freckles, Avior has infact tried to count them

Chronic head on lap rester, the man refuses to go a day without resting its head on Aviors lap at least for an hour

Confused why Avior would be in love with him but rolls with it anyway

Treasure -

Flint, they/he

Similar to Aaron where they have an empowered sibling but is unempowered himself

Pretends to be asleep when they’re actually just listening to Porter’s breathing since he finds it nice

Catches themself looking at Porter for a bit too long and looks away quickly as if they didn’t just have the most intense intimate moment ever

Lovely -

Jaxson, he/him transmasc

Has infact read all of the Percy Jackson and Lore Olympus books and you can catch him reading them over and over

Has a lot of lightning bullshit. This includes tattoos, clothes, even albums he doesn’t listen to but has because there’s a lightning bolt on it

Did infact say to Vincent after top surgery “well that’s a weight off of my chest” and cackled like a hyena

Makes jewelry for Vincent (yes he has a bunch of matching lightning rod charms why do you ask)

[hyesunnyshine]

Mutually Exclusive (Dawn and Dusk)

Pairing: Kristen and Bucky Applebees

Word Count: 2k words

Summary: Kristen has made some costly mistakes this year. But all of them pale in comparison to her biggest mistake of all: being a shitty older sister.

Content Warning: mild language

cooked this up because i love bucky. like that's literally little bro, get behind me pookie

There were three things that Kristen Applebees hated the most. People with no social awareness, flat sodas, and spending time with her parents. So it was no surprise that the Applebees residence was not graced with their eldest child’s presence very often.

It took a couple days after her friends had dealt with Porter and the votes for student body president were officially counted before Kristen had realized it had been nearly two months since she’d checked in on Bucky. She had stood up abruptly from the kitchen table, leaving her portion of Lydia Barkrock’s lasagna half-finished, to immediately give her younger brother a call. 

To add salt to her wound, he picked up on the second tone.

“Kristen! Congrats on being student body president. I prayed to Helio at church for a month straight asking if he could watch over you and help you win. I’m so glad it worked!” 

The twang in his voice was reminiscent of the way her old classmate Buddy would talk. But where the Dawn’s had a gritting accent that always put Kristen on edge, Bucky’s was sweet and playful like a rollercoaster. Her brother always had a way of making her smile and shake her head in amusement.

“Thanks Bucky, I really appreciate it. How were your exams? Everything go well?”

“Oh it went okay. I feel really good about the written exam for paladin classes. I used Professor Dawn as a source for my essay about Helio and Sol!”

“Oh,” Kristen’s speech trailed off in surprise. “Okay, I hope that’s not a conflict of interest…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Anyway, now that you have a lot of time, why don’t we hang out soon? You could come to Mordred? I’ll introduce you to everybody.”

“Um…” Bucky paused, hesitance in his voice. “I don’t know. Mom and Dad said that the haunted manor was full of the spirits of sinners.”

Kristen grimaced. Damn our parents and their Helioic bullshit. 

“But…” Her ears perked back up at the sound of her brother’s voice. “I did want to ask you a bit more about your god– er I mean your worship practices. Yeah. Maybe I could take your advice and, uh, apply it to Helio and our church.” Bucky’s words come out more robotic than Principle Grix. He never was the best liar.

“Of course! I’m always open to sharing some insight. And hey, I’ll show you my super cool bedroom. You know I sleep in a chapel?”

“Wait really? Woah, that's so cool!” A low voice barks from the other side of the line, and Bucky resumes speaking in a rushed tone.

“I- I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Oh okay–”

The line disconnects, and Kristen is left with an unspoken I love you lingering between her crystal and Bucky’s.

- - -

Kristen stands at the front door of her family’s house for ten minutes before she musters up enough courage to ring the doorbell. She expects to see Bucky being the one to open the door, but instead a displeased Mac and Donna Applebees greet her in the doorway.

“Oh,” the cleric instinctively shrinks into herself before a voice bat’s the anxiety away. Come on Kristen, you’re better than this. They don’t control you. She clears her throat.

“Hey, is Bucky ready to go?”

Her dad narrows her eyes. Yesterday, Kristen had sent them a message on her crystal to notify them of her arrival. No request or ask, just a simple I’m picking Bucky up tomorrow at noon. It was a harsh way to approach them, but she feared Bucky wouldn’t have been able to leave their parent’s watchful gaze any other way.

The Applebees say nothing, just continue to inspect her like she’s an inappropriate sculpture in a public park. Kristen shifts her eyes from her mother and father to inside the house, where Bucky comes barreling down the stairs in a yellow button-up and khakis, a baseball cap with a corn kernel patch in his hand.

“Hi Kristen! I’m ready to go.”

Her face immediately lights up. “Hey bud. Let’s get outta here.”

Bucky rushes out of the doorway excitedly, and before Kristen can do the same, Donna reaches for her forearm and taps her.

“Have him back by seven.”

Kristen looks at her mom’s eyes. The same critical and disappointed stare, but something is different this time. She can’t quite identify what it is, but it feels similar to hope. Of what? That she’ll re-embrace her family’s problematic worship? Or that Bucky will eventually learn how imperfect his older sister is and come to dislike her? Maybe she’s being a bit too cynical, or maybe it’s realistic. Kristen’s not sure.

But it gives her just enough determination she needs to nod and follow Bucky into the street.

- - - 

After a tense introduction to the company of Mordred Manor (unfortunately, Wretchrot has impeccable timing and nearly scared the life out of Bucky), the two make their way into Kristen’s room, a tray of sandwiches and potato chips from Lydia in their hands. She opens the door unceremoniously, setting the tray of food at her messy desk, before turning to her brother with arms spread out theatrically.

“Ta dah! This is my room.”

Bucky takes a moment to absorb his sister’s new life. The lesbian flag and star decals on the walls, the coat rack with her yellow track suit jacket and cowboy hat hanging from it, and her bookshelf filled to the brim with all kinds of books about deities, knick-knacks from her adventures with the Bad Kids, and a small glass case with the purple shards of her goddess Cassandra floating in it.

“Wow…” Bucky’s words dwindle as he sits at the edge of the bed, starry-eyed.

“I know, it’s a bit lame. And dirty.”

“Are you kidding me?” The boy breaks from his trance to look at his sister. “This is so cool! Your room is awesome.” 

For once, the full force of her brother’s awe for her hits Kristen without an ounce of her parent’s gloom to dampen it, and she can’t help but feel a bit teary-eyed.

“Thanks Bucky.”

After Bucky does a scan of her book collection and they finish eating their lunch, the Applebees siblings flop on the bed, a steady conversation passing between them.

“I didn’t really want to enroll as a paladin, ya know.” Kristen turns her head toward her brother at this. His arms are up in front of him playing with a stuffed corn plush from her desk. “But Mom and Dad insisted. Apparently one of the advisors for paladin classes told them it would suit me best.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Me neither. But they only told me once word got out that the teacher died. Must’ve been bad enough that they decided to tell me.”

Kristen’s stomach fills with dread. “Oh, what was the teacher’s name?”

“Mr. Cliffbreaker. He was kinda scary-looking at first, but he really cared about my oath and stuff, even gave me private lessons to help.”

At this, she shoots up into a seated position. The sudden movement scares Bucky into dropping the stuffed toy flat on his face.

“What did he teach you? Was it about anger?”

“Sorta, I told him that I was frustrated at my party for pushing me away because I kept talking about Helio, and he told me to turn that into a feeling I could channel through my paladin oath.” Bucky pauses, thinking for a moment. “I think he mentioned justice and vanquishing sin.”

Kristen is silent, and he takes that as a sign to go on.

“I don’t really remember, honestly. Stopped tutoring me after winter break because of some teacher stuff he said. So I never got too far with it.”

When Fig decided to audit paladin classes. 

Bucky sits up so he’s eye level with his older sister. “It kinda didn’t feel right with me? I don’t know, I didn’t miss it when we stopped the lessons. Maybe I’ll try–” He cuts himself off again, “I mean, now I can dedicate my time to an oath for Helio. Yeah.”

Whatever he was going to say next is cut off from the hug Kristen tackles him with.

“Uh, Kristen?”

She doesn’t respond, scared that her voice will crack and give away her crumbling demeanor. Tears are beginning to pool in the bottom of her eyes, but she commands her body to not let them fall.

I almost lost my brother. A tear falls onto her cheek and she quickly wipes it away. I almost let Porter manipulate my fucking brother for his twisted plan. And I would have been powerless to stop him. 

The thought repeats in her head like a fire alarm. He would have taken Bucky from me. He would have turned Bucky against me. He–

The voice pauses. No. Porter didn’t try to steal her brother. Kristen let him.

She remembers the first day of junior year, how Bucky’s face had lit up with excitement, but Kristen was too busy trying to get a reaction out of their parents. How Bucky always tried to approach her during lunch breaks and after school, but Kristen always had somewhere to be or something to do. How, when Kristen met up with her family for brunch to gather intel on Bobby Dawn, she spent the entire time talking to their parents, and Bucky was silent the entire time at the table.

Why, the voice echoed, why after all the shit you caused this year have you not learned your lesson. Why do you insist on blaming others before anything else.

They stay in an embrace for a long moment, Kristen wordlessly rubbing Bucky’s back, him eventually bringing his arms up to wrap around his sister’s shoulders. It takes a bit of time for the cleric to recompose herself, but eventually she does and leans back. Her brother, a quizzical look to his eyes, waits for her to say something.

“Yeah, it doesn’t suit you.” She ruffles his hair and Bucky lets out a giggle.

“Tell you what, why don’t we head to Basrar’s? My treat.”

“But the cleric stuff–”

“That can wait, it’s your summer break!” She gets up from the bed and grabs her staff, teddy bear, and track jacket to tie around her waist. “No need to think about school during vacation. Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve split a banana sundae between us”

The sparkle in Bucky’s eyes returns at the mention of ice cream and he leaps off the bed, cap falling off his head, and out the cathedral doors. Kristen snorts, picking his hat off the floor and running after him.

- - -

The sun is starting to set as the Applebees siblings walk down the suburban street and back toward the house. Bucky, feeling rejuvenated after the sugary treat, is talking excitedly about ideas for his sophomore year project.

“I mean, I know we won’t be able to do something as amazing as you and your friends, but maybe a small mission to spread the word of Helio would be good. Like, maybe up in the mountains of chaos–” He stops as his feet reach a familiar driveway.

 “Oh, we’re already here.”

Kristen doesn’t need to be particularly insightful to see the disappointment in her brother’s face, but he quickly masks it with a smile.

“I had a lot of fun. Can we do this again?”

“Of course, Bucky. You’re my brother.” Bucky’s face shoots in a bigger, more genuine smile, and he throws his arms around his sister for a quick hug.

“Okay! I’ll see you later then.”

“Wait!” She interrupts him before he can turn to go inside. She takes her teddy bear and hands it to Bucky. “I want you to have this.”

He looks at the toy with confusion before she continues.

“It will, uh, help you with spell casting. I used it to help me not feel overwhelmed by everything that goes on during intense fights. Kinda like an emotional support animal?” Kristen feels her cheeks flush. God, she was always terrible with words. “Maybe it’ll help you with paladin stuff. Or- or if you wanted to try something else out, it would be helpful.”

A wet sniff cuts off her next thought as she sees Bucky begin to cry. Immediately, she begins to panic and fuss over him.

“Oh fuck– I mean, oh gods. Hey, I’m sorry bud. I didn’t mean to upset you!”

“No, no.” Bucky wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “Thanks, Kristen. I love it so much.” He smiles, eyes red and slightly swollen from tears, and takes the teddy bear into his arms and squeezes it tight. “I’m gonna take really good care of him. Swear it.”

Kristen smiles as relief washes over her. She ruffles her brother’s hair one last time.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“See ya!” 

With a final wave, Bucky runs through the front door, and Kristen watches as a small shadow goes up the stairs and disappears as the lights come on in her little brother’s bedroom.

[dullgecko]

Some headcanons for my favorite critter (affectionately because I love your headcanons) and my favorite critter-boys (Gorgug, Riz,)

(for a lot of these I quoted stuff from the handbooks)

Gorgug:

Players Handbook: Relentless Endurance. When you are reduced to 0 hit points but not killed outright, you can drop to 1 hit point instead. You can't use this feature again until you finish a long rest.

I think Gorgug is very stubborn, not in a way that frustrates him (expect for in the Porter battle), but more so “I am going to find a way around this if its the last thing I do.” And he always does. (Finding a way to talk to Zelda, using a ropes velocity to get across Leviathan, in the nightmare forest, and the battle with Porter.

Gorgug alway’s been determined even if he mentally wants to give up. His body won’t let him.

Half orcs also have a trait that makes them naturally intimidating

Players handbook: Menacing. You gain proficiency in the Intimidation skill.

Gorgug knows he can be intimidating, especially to smaller folk. But its never intentional, he always tries to make himself smaller, keep his voice down, anything to let people know that he’s not trying to scare them.

Riz:

Adventures with Muk: Dankwood Speak with Small Beasts. Through sounds nad gestures you can communicate simple ideas with Small of smaller beasts. Dankwood goblins love animals and often keep squirrels, badgers, rabbits, moles, woodpeckers, and other creatures as beloved pets.

Sometimes Riz will instictivally turn his head in the direction of a cats meow because it sounds uncomfortably familiar to a goblets (goblin kit? gups?) cry. Other times he swears that he heard Zayn’s rat or one Boggy say something. He tries to ignore it most of the times.

Monsters of the Multiverse: Fey Ancestry. You have advantage on saving throws you make to avoid or end the charmed condition on yourself.

Riz has a hard time picking up on people's flirting (nor does he welcome it). Weak charm spells, however, don’t do anything to him, sometimes he doesn't even notice someone’s trying to cast something on him.

(I am a critter. A creature if you will. Sadly one that is burdened by the need to pay taxes and work it's fuckin' bullshit :3)

Gorgug is VERY stuborn. So stuborn that he worked out how to combine being an artificer and a barbarian, two classes that should be on complete oposite ends of the spectrum. It also means that he sometimes wont give up on something even though he really should but he's working on it.

He's very aware that he's intimidating, his parents are smallfolk after all, as are all of his neighborus. Making himself appear less threatening is second nature to him. When he gets annoyed or mad at someone though he stops trying and will intentionally allow himself to be intimidating. Standing up straight, squaring his shoulders and not lowering his voice. The first time he did this in front of his friends (not directed at them) Riz fully failed his save and dove into a nearby bush to hide.

------

Riz likes animals and sometimes really misses having Edgar around (though Zayne does let Riz hang out with the rat when he's over at Mordred sometimes). He's contemplated getting a pet before but he really couldn't afford it, plus his apartment is small and he's so busy all the time that he feels like he wouldn't be able to give a normal animal the attention it deserves.

Even after the whole Kaliina thing he still really likes cats and would get one if he ever decided to get a pet, he feels like they almost speak the same language. He sometimes feeds the strays outside his apartment or chirps at ones he sees in the streets when he's out and about. He has never once failed at finding peoples missing pets, but he doesnt charge very much for the service.

As for the flirting thing? He didn't really experience it before his glow-up in junior year. Riz got back from the Night Yorb quest, dove head-first into basically every club in the school and suddenly has to deal with it on TOP of all the stress from studying and making sure his party members dont fail their classes. It makes him feel weird. Flattering, sure, but no thank you random underclassmen.

More than once he's thought he's been involved in a normal and pleaseant conversation then BAM, someone is asking him on a date or leaning in way too close or on a couple of occasions being WAY too bold and actually touching him (he'd pinned back his ears, bared his teeth, and hissed so viciously at those people that they'd actually flinched and let him go not expecting it - he generally tries to tone down his goblin-y-ness around non-party members but fully drops the mask when angry or startled).

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

undeniable | porter gage x female! sole survivor

a/n: am i finally back on my bullshit, uploading on a random sunday night? this is different from what i usually write, but hey! im definitely writing something. im too tired to revise or edit this bc its 12 AM, so ill look it over in the morning. just thought i'd post something silly.

♡ based off a modern au where gage and the sole survivor are childhood bestfriends in another life.

For as long as Gage can remember, she’s been a burden. Being nearly five years older than her and her guardian -- or her best friend, as she likes to call him -- he’s always felt inclined to watch over her. He doesn’t know why, he knows he doesn't necessarily need to, but the thought of abandoning her feels wrong. So he tries to find reasons as to why -- was it because they both grew up in terrible conditions together and only had each other? Or was it because he knew the moment he let her dumbass go into the real world alone, she’d somehow get herself killed? 

He shakes his head. Finding a reason was nothing but a waste of time, his mind overworking itself more than it already was. He dumbs it down to simply getting used to the routine of caring for her since they were children. If he fucks up his schedule now, he’d have to go through the trouble of rearranging everything around once again and readjust to his new lifestyle. 

‘Yeah,’ he thinks to himself, unlocking his apartment door, twisting the knob, ‘It’ll be nothing but fucking trouble.’ 

Once he pushes the door open, his boots thumping against the tiled floor of his apartment, he sees her sitting on the couch, distracted by the show playing on the television. His eyes darted over to the coffee table in front of her, papers and open textbooks strewn across the poor thing, obviously untouched and just displayed prettily to mimic the idea that she was being productive. 

With a low grumble, he tosses his bag on the counter nearby and takes off his boots before grabbing the remote lying on the couch. She’s so invested in her little show that she barely even notices him walking in with a scowl and an annoyed sigh. Sole jumps when the television shuts off suddenly, a gasp leaving her lips before turning her head to the side. 

“Hey, I was watching!” she whines, already rising from the couch to pick another fight with him. He doesn’t show any reaction and instead, crosses his arms with an unimpressed expression while he holds the remote hostage. 

She tries her best to grab it from his hand but he rolls his eyes, gently pushing her back down onto the couch. 

“Quit watchin’ and start studyin’. Yer not gonna get shit done like this.” 

She huffs angrily, her eyes narrowing at him, “Gage, a little break wouldn’t hurt every once in a while.” 

“And what have you accomplished since I left for work this afternoon?” 

Sole swallows nervously, her mouth going dry at his questions as she opens and closes it, trying her best to stand her ground. He raises a brow, giving her a chance to respond and redeem herself, but he already knows. She was a fool for thinking she could get away with such a lie, knowing that Gage knew her better than anyone else.

“Thought so,” he stuffed the remote in the back of his pocket, “Now be a good girl and finish yer damn work. I’m not paying yer tuition for you to fuck around.” 

Sole groans but listens obediently, pulling the coffee table closer to her. She grabs her laptop and unlocks it, opening her notes before reaching over to snatch one of her textbooks. 

“I don’t understand why you’re on my ass about my studies so much, Gage,” she complains, highlighting something in her book a bit roughly, “You didn't even finish high school, so why does it even matter?” 

He doesn’t spare her much of an answer, walking over to the kitchen to find something to cook for them, “Exactly my point. You wanna be better than me.”  

“But you make so much money, you’re able to provide for both of us!” she throws her hands in the air, desperately trying to prove a point to her stubborn roommate, who seemed to be firm on his words.

“That’s only because I got connections. Now shut your mouth and study.” 

He doesn’t find much in the fridge nor the cabinets, silently setting a reminder in his mind to do a grocery run first thing tomorrow before work. Eventually, he decides to heat up some leftovers they had for lunch and cut up some fruit for her to snack on while she did her work. It’s shit, he knows, but it’ll do till tomorrow. 

He makes his way back to the living room, plopping on the couch next to her and setting the food on the coffee table, maintaining a good distance between their dinner and her work. The last thing he wanted was to spill anything on her laptop and notes -- it would only give her another reason not to be productive. 

He doesn’t say much, but his eyes flicker over to her for a moment, a small smile on his face at the sight of her seemingly focused on her work now, a sense of satisfaction overcoming him. Gage leans back on the couch, pulling his phone out to distract himself while he kept her company in the living room. He takes a few bites of his portion of the leftovers, glancing at Sole here and there to ensure she was still on track. 

It’s a peaceful few minutes, he can’t recall how long, as they both sit in silence, her music playing softly in the background to fill up the white noise. Suddenly, he hears a sigh, sounding a bit defeated, and his eyes set on her sulking figure. 

“Gage, I know that you want the best for me, but I’m nearly twenty-three and you still treat me like a kid.” he stares at her, not showing any reaction but notices how she refused to make eye contact with him, her eyes glued to the screen of her laptop. 

When she doesn’t get a response, she closes her eyes before turning her body towards him, her expression serious, but he can see right through her. She’s pleading, but not in an annoying bratty way like she usually does, so he decides to listen to her troubles. 

She scoots closer to him and he watches, his phone long forgotten in his hand, “I’m really grateful for you and all that, but you need to trust that I can do well in school and balance my time. You can’t take care of me forever.” 

Instead of getting a response like she’d hope for, she was met with the usual silence he often provided her when she tried to set her boundaries. With an irate expression, she turned back to her laptop, her face flushed in embarrassment, feeling like her words vanished into thin air. 

She should’ve known better than to talk to Gage — he was a man of few words and she didn’t know why she expected him to at least say something to show that he at least cared about her feelings one way or the other.

Before she could continue studying to hide her embarrassment and anger, she hears his voice and freezes. 

“I know.” his voice is gravelly, a bit of exhaustion mixed into it, and her head shoots to him, a bit stunned at his broken silence. Her eyes are wide, body paralyzed at the sudden response. There’s a slight flush on his face but she convinces herself it’s the lighting. 

Definitely. 

He knows she’s waiting for more than just that and he sighs, crossing his arms as he makes eye contact with her the best he can without losing his shit, “Just want you to have a good future. Want you to live a better life than what I’m giving you right now before I send you off.” 

Suddenly, she’s overcome with guilt and she immediately leans over to him, her hands finding his as she cuts him off, “No, that’s not what I meant!”

With another breath, she composes herself before speaking. 

“Gage, you’ve given me everything I’ve wanted and needed, the last thing I’ll ever do is criticize your care for me. I don’t plan on leaving your side, even when I get a better life.” 

His heart twinges and his feelings for her resurface, but he pushes it down. 

She pulls on the sleeves of his hoodie, playing with the fabric with her fingers, “I just want you to trust me more. I know I’ve been slacking a bit, but I’d never fail school, especially when I know you’re working hard to provide for both of us and paying for my tuition. I’d never do that to you.”

“Wouldn’t say I’m working hard,” he downplays it, not wanting her to fret about such a miniscule matter. 

She groans, “You work twelve hour shifts everyday. Sometimes fourteen!”

He shrugs nonchalantly and Sole pouts at his stubbornness, smacking his arm with annoyance. Gage bites back a smirk, amused by her behavior and catches her wrist midair, her eyes rolling. Instead of providing her with a response, he digs in his pocket and hands her the remote to the TV and her eyes light up, a smile forming on her pretty face. His heart aches at the sight. It was such a small action but it was more than enough to validate her feelings. 

“Thank you, you’re the best!” she jumped over, throwing her arms around his neck as she embraced him tightly. 

His face flushed heavily and tried to seem annoyed to cover it up but the stutter in his voice and the tenseness of his shoulders gave it away. Gage pushed her away with his hand as he groaned quietly, “I get it, don’t need to be so damn happy about it.” 

However, she pecked his cheek and he froze instantly, his body paralyzed and his voice raising in embarrassment, “Q-Quit it!”

She giggles and doesn’t take much offense to his words, knowing that he was nothing but a big softie for her. As she released him, she smiled at him happily once more before turning to the TV and putting her show back on. 

Gage rubbed the spot where she kissed, his face a deep red as he tried to regain his composure. Suddenly, he pushes down the real reason of why he refused to leave her side for the millionth time, reminding himself that there were several other possibilities other than that. 

‘What a damn burden,’ he thinks to himself, desperately trying to fight back his feelings for her, his eyes glued to her gleeful form next to him. 

Suddenly, her kiss lingered on his skin a little too long, the feeling of her arms around him marking his skin, and he’s left absolutely horrified, realizing that he could no longer convince himself otherwise. 

Maybe accepting it was better than constantly running and Gage thinks it over for a moment but ultimately shakes his head, wanting to do anything but that. 

‘Just a stupid thought. Some stupid fucking feelings,’ he settles for that answer but knows deep down that he’s already lost the battle, his heart hammering in his chest. 

[stripedgrace]

chapter 6 sneak peek: Fig's plan

so I'm late to update. hoping to post soon, aiming for the end of august but yeah. this will is be late again. a few of the scenes are giving me a really hard time, scenes that need to happen to keep the chapter on track. so woohooo.

anyway, because of the delay, I figured I post a small sneak peek of what is to come, just to give all something to naw at while chipped away at the remaining parts.

enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of all the adjectives Fig could use to describe herself, trusting was not one of them.

Oh sure, once someone earned that trust, she’d do just about anything for them. But for most people? Unlike her friends, Fig was always suspicious first and loyal later.

Which made it very frustrating when she had a feeling she couldn't prove.

Sure, sure, Fig could admit that sometimes her aim was faulty. Kathilda and Ragh were proof enough. But most of the time, she was right on the money. Goldenrod, Penelope, and even Porter. Her instincts didn’t lie.

And while most of these strangers were perfectly fine, Fig knew a bad apple when she saw one. And that fucking gnome was nothing but rotten. Scanlan could pretend all he wanted, could convince everyone else otherwise, it didn't matter. Fig knew without a doubt that he’s bitter and cruel. An angry man who would kill Riz the moment he could get away with it. Her friends could think she was crazy, try to tell her “Oh it’s about the gun! They didn’t mean to attack us Fig! Don’t worry about it,” bullshit. Bullshit.

Fig knows better. She sees his intentions as clear as day. But she also knows how clever he is. How convincing he could be. If the only thing she had was her word, he would surely win. He already gained the upper hand, preemptively twisting the narrative to serve as his shield, leaving Fig scrambling to catch up.

The writing was already on the wall, nothing she did could change that. So, the only thing left to do is wait.

Because if they were really as alike as Fig thought they were, it was only a matter of time before Scanlan slipped up. And when he did, she’d be ready.

But for now, there were other matters at hand. Problems bigger than a racist gnome with a silver tongue.

Like how they were universes away from home, unsure of the possibility of ever returning. Like how they vanished in the middle of nowhere, trapped in a collapsing cave system, unable to reach out. Like how right before the circle activated, Fig swore she heard Ayda screaming her name. Ayda who might be trapped down there right now, looking for her, thinking Fig to be dead, becoming more and more stuck as she refuses to leave behind-

Fig digs her nails into her arm. Nope. She isn’t gonna think about that right now. Not when they’re in the midst of hunting basilisks, mentally arguing over strategy. She needed to focus.

Ayda would be fine. She had to be.

Stretching out her arms, Fig fakes a yawn, taking a careful look at adults behind them. As she thought, their expressions hadn’t changed, each intently watching. Vax, his look-alike, and the white man were all muttering quietly to each other, likely making alternate plans. Keyleth walked quietly alongside the Tall-guy and the two gnomes lagged at the very back. Occasionally, a comment would get just loud enough for her to make out.

“-ier not talkin-“

“-dy have a plan?”

“-bad feeling-“

She smirked and looked away. They really didn’t have a clue, did they?

Good. If they wanted to pull this off, they needed every advantage they could get.

Stealing her nerves, Fig flings herself back into the link, catching the tail end of Fabian’s thought.

‘-d then, they’ll charge Adaine’s illusion, and while their distracted, we will jump down, kill them an-.’

‘For last time, I didn’t prepare Major Image today, that’s not gonna work.’

‘And that’s still not gonna solve the problem of having to look at the basilisks.’ Gorgug adds. 

Riz sighs. ‘No matter which way we slice it, I think we're gonna need to look at them. If we want to get this done fast, we need to see where we're hitting.’

‘Yeah but turning into stone will do us no favors.’ Adaine argues.

‘Well Kristen has her staff. That'll do it.’ says Fabian.

Kristen groans. ‘That trick could only work twice, otherwise it's just me actually casting Greater Restoration, and I only have two 5th level slots.’

‘Unless we get help.’ states Gorgug.

Fig could hear Adaine roll her eyes. ‘We're not getting their help,’ she replies, ‘We can't. If we insinuate that we need help, all of this planning would be worthless. They would rub it in our faces and this ploy to show them that we’re capable would fall apart in an instant.’ 

Theres a pause before Riz sums it up best. ‘Okay then. We get four mistakes. Anymore and we're screwed.’

‘If I throw down Faerie Fire, it'll be easier to hit them.’ Fabian comments.

‘And some of my spells don't require direct sight.’ Adaine adds, ‘I could throw a Lightning Bolt and not have to worry about becoming stone.’

‘And you could incorrectly aim and hit one of us.’ retorts Kristen.

‘I mean maybe.’

‘I don't know.’ says Riz, ‘It's a solid start but it's not a guarantee. The best-case scenario would be to look at them and not have to worry about the effect at all.’

‘Could we blind them maybe?’ Gorgug asks. ‘You could do that right?’

‘I could,’ says Kristen, ‘But that's not gonna do much. It's not a problem if they see us, it's if we see them.’

Finally, Fig speaks, an idea growing in her mind, ‘I think Riz is right. If we don't look at them, we won't have to worry about the paralysis. But we're not going for the most optimal strategy right? We're trying to show off.

‘Yes?’ replies Riz.

Adaine lights up, ‘Oh do you have a plan. You sound like you have a plan. Please tell me you have a plan.’

‘Maybe?’ Fig lets her smile show as she pulls a small coin-like item from her bag. Flashing it at her friends, she asks, ‘Who here feels like putting on a performance?’

[j2zara]

porter w 3 jaceclones in his house, two of which would be happy to fuck him: but i want the REAL jace :(

ah well aint porter wanting the REAL jace really the problem at the heart of everything all the time? As was posited in 7 Jaces thesis?

Anyway there is a part of me that does think the phonesex definitely happened like Porter definitely drunk dialed Jace one night and Jace degraded him until he came but like. Jace in his mind is like "that doesn't count b/c its phonesex". So all this insistence on maintaining his boundaries and actually trying to do the right thing (while also fucking over the jaceclones in the process obviously) is complete bullshit. As far as the timeline goes, in my heart if its Definitely A Thing That Happened it only happened once but through infinite jace theory all things are possible so if we push this then what

Tbh i do think J2 and J3 being The Way They Are is part of why Porter... Like... he calls jace with the intent of maybe jace will come crawling back but the degradation doesn't hurt and is like actually is this maybe what i wanted because like? J2 and j3 will do anything for him. And like, that's what he wants he supposes, what he always wanted with jace but that's not conflict, thats not conquest, where is the fun without a little fight?

I do think it would be funny if J2 and j3 found out about this. Like J2 would maybe be a little upset but also be like oh ok. I mean. Whatever you think is best (while silently thinking about the last time jace and porter were together it was this huge fight, he hasn't been jaceporter pantheon pilled yet and is holding out hope that porter can be his), meanwhile J3 is like. Actually can i get in on that. Im so sad like landlines aren't really a thing anymore bc i just know j3 would LOVE to be listening in on the landline if that were the case. The cogs are definitely turning

That being said I do think my favorite point to slip this into the timeline is right after J2 kissed Porter for the first time (and j2's first handjob yipeeeee). I just think it would be fun.... Because Porter is still thinking about how kissing Bluejay felt the same as kissing Jace but this is also right after his fight with J2 in which j2 is trying to be so so supportive but porter is just frustrated bc J2 won't give him a straight answer on what he actually wants or thinks its always just whatever you want! He misses jace. This isn't jace. This is so much of what jace used to be Before porter. But it felt the same, right?

So he calls Jace and Jace might even be able to kind of guess what is up because he could FEEL it, he could feel porter's anger and frustration that Jace is not the one there with him. and jace is sort of mocking him for it, like are you really fucking the clone? Son of a bitch, you're fucking the clone aren't you? wow you really can't move on can you, how pathetic is that. And after all that i'm it and you know it. And now you can't have me and that makes you sick. (and jace's life right now is miserable and fucked but at least he has that sort of power right? being able to deny porter something that he wants?)

And like. Porter expected or maybe hopes jace would crumble but he KNOWS he's been fucking up this entire time. He knows this is different, jace isn't coming back. So maybe Jace means it when he says well i do miss when you fuck me. I hate you but at least i miss that mught. At least your cock never made me mad. (And he has fucked everything in jace's life, so why would that not be the truth? Maybe he's the instrument here). All this talk about ascension and godhood meanwhile, the only time you liked yourself was when you were pleasing me. Something Something Jace Cool Girl Thesis right? "I'm the cunt you married. The only time you liked yourself was when you were trying to be someone this cunt might like"

And porter is thinking maybe that's true. He misses when he was fucking jace and jace would say his name like it was something of reverence. Like it meant anything at all. Maybe that WAS the only time he was ever any good to jace. The only time he ever really felt like he was acting in the service of something holy. Everything else has been ruin and now doesn't even have the cunt he destroyed just so Porter could have him. Maybe he's just a guy with a bick dick havin a mid life crisis. If he tried that with. J2. Would it sound the same coming from Bluejay's mouth? It would have to, right? Maybe he should give it a shot just to see. The fact that he's willing to give it a shot makes him even more disgusting—which is only more fodder for jace's hatred and degradation. Cool Girl Thesis part 2! "You think you'd be happy with some midwestern girl? No way baby. I'm it"

Maybe it shouldn't matter to him, a god can have what he wants right? The entire flock if it suits him. But Porter still wants the cunt he married

[fallout4-reacts]

k-peasants asked: An actual prompt this time! I know you're busy and have plenty of things to write yet, take your time. Soo I was thinking that maybe companions (and Maxson) horribly failing at confessing to Sole. Like for example they could clear out some Raiders, companion is impressed, tries to confess BAM Sole gets fucking decked by random raider they didn't kill. I feel like you could get pretty creative with that one. Like deathclaws, something exploding, just settlers running in, other companions interrupting etc.

Here, here, part uh 4… after the false start of the part 3…

Part 4

Gage / MacCready / Piper

(Part 1 : Danse, Deacon, Nick Valentine)

(Part 2 : Hancock, Preston, Strong)

(Part 3 : X6-88 alone because of a bug)

(Part 5 : Cait, Curie, Codsworth, Dogmeat, Elder Maxson)

Gage : This Sole is an Overboss! What a magnificent and fantastic Overboss! Everything Porter had ever wanted to do came true! Nuka-World is now a flourishing domain, having conquered so many colonies that the Commonwealth can be considered under the yoke of the raiders, its inhabitants paying an extraordinary tribute that fills the chests at an incredible rate. His people are blessed and happy, and he owes it all to Sole.

Gage never imagined having such strong and lively feelings for another person as he did for himself, but he fell hard for Sole.

And Sole seems to notice it in a far more personal way than one would anticipate from an Overboss towards a lieutenant.

And when a raider wants something, he takes it.

So, once his feelings for his superior are made clear, Gage doesn't waste time. He plans their entire evening and ensures that Sole has enough drink. When he realizes they are alone in the Fizztop, he grabs his bravery with both hands.

"Hey, Boss!"

Sole looks up from his glass and smiles at Porter.

"Yeah?"

And this smile almost steals the poor man's courage. He takes the time to set himself on one of the stools in front of the other.

"I… I've been thinking about this thing you told me, about our friendship and all that bullshit."

"Yeah?"

"Well, what I'm saying is—

"Is that Mason's voice I hear?"

"We always hear Mason's screaming at this hour."

"But these are not screams of pain?"

Gage and Sole leap to the terrace and gaze downward. Preston Garvey, the foolish Minutemen colonel, smiled morbidly at them from the center of the lake, where he had erected a terrible altar.

"I told you you'd pay me, Sole!" the man yells angrily while igniting more fire under Mason.

Sole then realizes that the entire area has been taken over by Minutemen. Damn! He believed he had confined them to their silly castle, but it appears that they have returned in force.

"You know what, Porter?"

"Yes boss?"

"We'll finish this conversation later."

MacCready : Sole pays close attention to MacCready. The mercenary casts an interested gaze their way.

"I have something in my face?"

"Nope. I'm just curious why you didn't leave."

The mercenary with the rat's face smiles with all his rotten teeth.

He replayed the conversation in his thoughts over and again.

Sole carried Mac through the twists and turns of a hidden and forgotten vault, where they fought radscorpions, mirelurks (including a Queen mirelurk), and ghouls, the worst of which who was not feral. They have since established their camp in the main cave, waiting for the sunrise to return to the surface.

To be honest, Mac isn't in any rush to get back up. He never feels better than when he has a good granite sky on his head, but he knows they can't stay confined in the bowels of this hill forever.

The Commonwealth will be expecting them.

And there is a child waiting for him near the Capital Wasteland, assigned to the care of trusted people. Butch and the Tunnel Snakes will offer their life to save his son if necessary, and they will at first not take any unnecessary risks that could imperil him. This is what allows Mac to postpone his triumphal return to Duncan, who is undoubtedly on the mend.

Healing thanks to the help of Sole.

Sole glances at him now, puzzled as to why he is still there.

And the answer, he knows it by heart, having processed it in his thoughts over and over since he found it. Why is he still present? For the one only reason that could exist.

"Listen to me carefully, Sole. What I want to say is delicate, and I don't want to... It's difficult for me to talk to you about this, but I understand you should question my decision."

"A little, yes. If I had the opportunity to be with my son, I would not procrastinate as much."

Mac takes his time swallowing. Yes, it was far more delicate than he had imagined. He didn't count Sole's struggle to find their own kid... and the heartbreaking defeat they experienced along the way.

"Exactly. I don't believe I have the right to forsake you. Not right now. Not after everything you've done for me. No, especially in a situation when you need someone by your side."

"What greatness of soul for a mercenary."

MacCready straightens and swallows sideways.

"How could you!? You know that — argh! — I gave back your caps!"

"And I told you you could keep it."

"Do you really think my motivation is still just money?"

"No." The tone of his friend confuses Mac. He raises his eyebrow, and Sole makes a hand gesture. "So, you tell me, what's so important?"

"Yes. What I was trying to say to you was that-

"Not all ghouls are dead."

"Sorry?"

"Not all ghouls are dead!"

Sole leaps to his feet before Mac notice the abrupt change in the speech. Then he realizes at the same time that Sole fires his first shot. He retrieves his trustworthy Mighty and begins to shoot himself.

It is a true horde that falls on them, and they are in a big cave on absolutely flat land, the fools, the lethal sea forthcoming on them despite the accuracy of their guns. Three ghouls appear to replace each one that dies.

Sole and Mac, surrounded and besieged, realize their horrible mistake.

Their one and only, but fatal, mistake.

Piper : The reporter speaks to them as they approach a settlement.

"Hello! I have a few questions about the living conditions in the colony; would you be willing to answer them?"

Sole takes a step back. They have to repair a water purifier at Sturges' request, and they don't want to interfere with Piper's work on her new article, "Life in the Commonwealth with the Return of the Minutemen." This is, at the very least, the first draft. Piper wishes to develop a more enticing title and believes she can do so by researching the backdrop of her article.

Sole approved all along.

This is the best plan of action concerning Piper. Approve immediately before she launches into an argument about the advantages and disadvantages of her point of view. Her conversation is already something; if she believes she needs to persuade her interlocutor, it could run all day.

Quite strangely, the purifier's filter has become clogged from the inside. Because the duct is too tiny, Sole is unable to reach it. To see what is causing the blockage, they must disassemble a large piece of the devices. As the day is already well begun, they proceed immediately.

Piper returns after around ten minutes to see how they are.

"Hmf. Everyone declines my interview requests. I expected everyone to be overjoyed to be in the next issue, but they're all too busy."

"Take it back tonight at the bar when they're done with their chores," Sole suggests, gripping his wrench, which refuses to loosen the shaft.

"Wait a minute, that's a fantastic idea. They will definitely be even more ready to comply if my incredibly popular acquaintance additionally offers a few caps to pay for the round."

Sole chuckles, despite the fact that they are losing patience after the obstinate piece.

"You know I'd do anything for you, sweetheart."

"What a charmer," says the reporter, blushing.

But Sole's motivation is more selfish than making Piper blush. Every time they told her something in this taste, she reddened, stammered, and eventually shut up. They must concentrate if they don't want to twist the rotor situate under the duct or damage the nets, which would necessitate some redoing, and all of the required gear is in Sanctuary. During this break, they renew their focus to their given task.

Piper, on the other hand, is in a completely different mindset. She coughs briefly to regain their interest. They grunt to indicate that they are paying attention and modify their position to change the pressure point.

"You know, Sole, I've been wanting to talk to you about something a little tricky for a while."

"Not really your way of going in circles," Sole grumbles, thrusting their tool.

"No, I confess, but it's something that, let's say, is difficult to discuss."

"I didn't think there was anything too tough for you to discuss," they groan before throwing all of their weight on the tool to give it one last push.

"It's actually a very personal matter. So, if it's not too problematic..."

"But keep going!" Sole attempts to remain calm as they begin to feel the piece shift.

"I just wanted to let you know that all this time we've been rummaging together, I know it was not easy, I was not easy, and many don't really like me."

They eventually get their hands into the conduit to find the obstruction.

"But I'm quite pleased with you. More than just content. You never seem to get tired of my little crazy... I must admit... I do feel that—

"A MINE!" yells Sole, vigorously shoving Piper away as the entire purifier erupts out of its cement block, taking Sole's arm and a significant chunk of what should have been connected to Sole's arm with him. 

Piper, out of breath and on her back, worries of the fire and blood that fly in all directions and then fall all around her. She has no idea if she is injured; she is absolutely frightened.

[whoblewboobear]

I do think that between all of the zarajaceporter pairings, Porter and Zara have some of the most intense sex.

The rest is under a read more bc this truly is just smut

~

Porter has never had a safe word before he never thought he’d need to use one himself and he thinks that if that’s good enough for him that’s good enough for his partners.

To Zara that’s all bullshit (she’s so right) and as long as she and Porter are involved she plans to break him of the habit. She's not a fixer, she doesn't care and shes doing it mainly for her and to some extent Jace's benefit. its been years since shes enacted her safe word, but its always known and in place. She LOVES bloodplay and with that, safety needs to be involved.

When Porter asks for her to drain him until hes near death she explains this to him but he tries to wave it away. He’ll look at her, so fucking desperate and needy and gooooods damnit he really can flash those stupid puppy dog eyes at her and get her on board with anything. He does agree to use a safe word though, so progress.

Porter doesn't like putting a lot of thought into his plans. His full idea was just: Slurp me like a juice box. And that was just kinda it lmao. But when the day actually comes he’s glad that Zara made him prep snacks and drinks to have on standby and had Jace talk him through what it would feel like. Jace and Zara have been there done that, and she was way more comfortable doing it with them bc she actually listens 😌 (she loves her obedient butch to pieces)

Jace is so excited for them to take this step. He knows Zara is careful about feeding for pleasure rather than hunger. They’ve discussed her bloodlust and how she used to have trouble with it and still gets the urge every now and then if she’s not careful. She knows her limits but she’s fucked up severely in the past and suffered the consequences. And as much as she hates to say it, she doesn’t want to accidentally kill one of her partners, she likes Porter. She did from the minute she met him even if the allure faded, now genuine care and affection for him is in its place. She likes Porter. Jace teases her about it all the time and tries to get her to say it to their boyfriend more often. She refuses, but she will drain him.

When she does, she’s perched on top of him staring down at him beneath her. His eyes full of trust and anticipation and when she sinks her fangs into him, the whine he makes encourages her. Porter strokes her hair until his limbs feel detached from his body, he’s in ecstasy, head somewhere floating in the clouds. When Zara releases him, his blood coats her from mouth to chin; dripping down onto her breasts. She looks incredible like this. If he had enough blood in his body he’d be so fucking hard right now. He didn’t take that into account.

Zara pecks his lips, then presses a gentle kiss to the puncture wounds in his neck and casts healing light. Porter can feel the life returning to him. Zara climbs off of him and goes to wipe her mouth and grabs the snacks and things for him so he can build his strength back up. She feels good, like there’s a buzz thrumming through her body. It wasn’t her first time tasting his blood, but never this much of it. She tucks the thought away before she starts to obsess over and takes a seat next to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“‘M alright. I liked it,” he grins at her and takes her hand, placing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Was it good for you?” She flushes, looking away for a moment to compose herself as she nods. “Yeah, really good,” she breathes, feeling a bit lightheaded from his question. Porter munches on his apple slices for a bit before he breaks the silence. “How’d I taste?”

Zara’s body feels hot, it was such a simple question and it was making her so wet she could barely think straight.

“Good, really- uhm. Robust- but with something else underneath. There is a kick, like caffeine.” She doesn’t even noticed how tightly she’s clenching her thighs together, but Porter does. He hums at her response. She was getting off on this, just talking about the notes of his blood like it’s some aged vintage she and Jace saved for special occasions. “Keep talking,” he grunts, abandoning his snack in favor of placing his massive hand on her thigh.

Zara bites her lip, unclenches her legs and gives him the invitation if he’d like to take it.

“Well. It’s not that different from any other blood- it’s just- Porter-!” She gasps, as his hand slides her panties to the side before he inserts two fingers, stretching her open. He leans over and kisses her jaw, sucking the skin there. Only pausing to rasp, “Keep talking, Love.”

She shivers, rocking her hips and following his lead for once. “Your blood- it fuck.. uh- it was warmer than I’m used to. Delicious like hot chocolate, there’s an aftertaste of heat- mm, yes- Right there! Fuck- like when you eat spicy food, it lingers!” She keens, head falling back as a tight heat settles in her belly. Porter continues to work, thumb ghosting over her clit enough to draw a desperate moan from her.

“Good girl,” he smirks, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I like the insight.” He pulls his fingers from her and she growls.

“Don’t be a prick. Finish,” she eyes him, pouting. The stupid smirk doesn’t leave his face as he licks his fingers clean, not daring to break eye contact with her. “You’re a big girl, you can handle it.” Is all he leaves her with as he gathers his things and leaves her room.

For a moment she wishes she killed him.

[sinnaminttoast]

Monarchal Summit…SPOILERS FOR PART THREE

I’m back on my bullshit to give you my reactions/thoughts on this video.

First of all I want to establish…HOW MUCH I LOVE PORTER SOLAIRE! Literally argue with someone else cause I refuse to change my mind on him 😍 he’s such a sassy man and I just…omg 🤭

If there’s one thing Porter Solaire will do…he will give his one liners

I haven’t gotten this giddy over a character since Gavin’s second love confession video. (Tbh also Hush…BUT I DONT NEED YA’LL JUDGING MY TASTES ON THIS POST! 😭 tbh I should talk about like my top five or seven characters…?)

I also never thought I’d hear him say “clout” but here we are.

Tbh, I’m not completely surprised Porter killed Alexander. He had the time to do it. Now my question is…He never told Asher that he was the one to push Sweetheart out of the room but maybe it was him? He also just never explained where tf he got that demon blood.

SO WHAT IF VEGA— *gunshots*

But omg…ya’ll this game is a MESS! All of the houses just do not give a fuck…AND ME TOO! FUCK BOTH OF THOSE BITCHES!

I don’t know if William fully thought this through though. Maybe he did but this kinda leaves a bad look on Vincent and Lovely. He already had no experience in hosting the summit. He was told to host the summit and THEN was told he had to deal with Porter. He was stressed OUT

And even at the summit, he gets treated like the naive kid who knows nothing.

I Can see why Vincent is upset. I’ll give him a slight pass since the only murder he’s ever committed was Adam and that was purely because he had broken vampiric laws? Customs? I forget the word. Anyways, he’s always been the type to just want normalcy. As much of it as he can have ever since he lost his humanity.

So to find out that the people you are around have blood on their hands and that there’s been a game going on unbeknownst to you…oof. My man has also been stressed the fuck out the days following up to the summit AND on the day of the summit…can’t say I blame him.

BUT WHEN PORTER SAID WILLIAM SEES VINCENT AS HIS CHILD???

Why would you say that? PEOPLE ARE CRAZY PORTER! 😭

William has quite the way of….doing things? But just because he ate this one little thing DOESNT MEAN I forgot what Dean wright said in the first video of the summit.

I’m not trusting we’re safe from Quinn and his friends UNTIL I HEAR HE’S DEAD!

AND ANOTHER THING—

Porter I’m so sorry sweetie for what you’ve been through 🙁

But not him just leaving and saying “I love my voice and all but I am tired after committing a bit of murder. Good night 🫶☺️”

He was also just getting tired of repeating shit 😭 like he was about to whack Vincent if he had to repeat “Closeknit and House of Bennett work together. Both bad. Me kill Alexander. Society = safe.”

Anyways…that’s all I have I think?? Oh and Lovely! I’m sure they’re pissed off about Vincent being hurt and how he was treated over all. Like…they just had their business all aired out and now their partner is just…hurt.

Is William a bad guy? Nah, I don’t totally disagree with him killing those two fucks. However, I wonder if he thinks this won’t bite him in the ass?

Idk..hopefully this does start leading to Closeknit’s downfall CAUSE I NEED THEM GONE

[softpine]

hi brandi!! i might be wrong but i have a half memory of you writing up a text post or an ask reply that detailed everything we know about finns case/the timeline leading up to his death so far - would you be able to relink it or pin it somewhere please!! i'm trying to cross reference the dates of the journal entries to prev things finns said etc hehe

ahh i feel like i remember this too, but i can't find it for the life of me!! i'm wondering if maybe i was just talking about the wiki? because i wrote up a giant article for finn's page in the wiki (which is still unfinished i'm sorryyyyy) but i don't know if i ever posted it publicly?

either way, here's a timeline of finn's whole life so i won't spoil anything by telling you what is or isn't important :P

1963 - donald atwood, richard's father, dies. he was an abusive man, particularly to his wife, bessie.

april 19, 1970 - finn is born to richard and lucy atwood.

1973 - due to financial struggles, finn lives with his grandma bessie for a year. she would've been happy to take care of him longer, but richard finds a better job at the factory and takes him back.

1974 - the atwoods start renting the house we've seen finn grew up in. it was split into four units. the atwood family were on the bottom left floor, the porter family (chris, his wife, and their son steven) were living in the bottom right half. the two units above them were frequently cycling through tenants.

1975 - with richard and chris being neighbors and working together at the factory, they become close friends. they were both heavy drinkers before they met, but it escalates into addiction. this is also when the abuse begins. it starts as neglect rather than purposeful violence (such as finn being locked out of the house during a blizzard).

1978 - grandma bessie dies. she left finn an expensive cross necklace which he wears hidden under his shirt so it won't be stolen. due to a combination of richard's grief over losing his mother + no longer having her around to keep him in check and watch out for finn, he loses his temper more often and this is when the physical abuse begins.

1980 - finn starts formulating a plan to run away. he wants to live with his aunt & cousin (on lucy's side) in new york, and he thinks if he can just get away, his parents won't care enough to take him back. he finds a boy scout's uniform and starts going door to door selling chocolate, running errands, doing odd jobs, and stealing money when he can get away with it.

july 9, 1981 - chris hits steven for the first time. no one knows it at the time, but this is a turning point not just for steven, but also for finn. this is around the time when they make promises to each other that they're never going to drink, never going to have kids, and as soon as they leave home, they're never coming back.

october 31, 1981 - finn describes this halloween as "the last good day".

early november, 1981 - chris porter gets a better job and moves his family to the suburbs, where steven starts making friends with the other kids. he's cruel to finn at school because he wants to distance himself from the reputation they shared.

december 23, 1981 - officer tim andrews arrests richard for a few small charges like public intoxication. he's very familiar with the atwood family and has been looking for any opportunity to arrest him for a while now. finn thinks he's creepy and hates how andrews is always getting involved in his business and trying to act friendly with him. finn bails his dad out of jail with his secret money (but what he doesn't say in his journal is that he stole that money from his upstairs neighbors while they were moving out).

january 6, 1982 - finn gets into a physical altercation with steven and another classmate. in reality, the two boys jumped him while he wasn't paying attention, and he calls it "fucking bullshit" that he got suspended for fighting back. even the teacher who broke up the fight wonders if this was a "coordinated effort" between the boys, but finn still gets punished.

this is around the time when paint it black takes place.

january 29, 1982 - after a month of listening to officer andrews offer to help him, finn decides to accept and ask him for a ride to his aunts house. notably, he calls him "tim" in his journal entries, which could be to disguise his identity or because he's gotten more comfortable with him. he writes that he'll do whatever it takes, "even if tim wants money or something else" (finn genuinely thought he was a predator, in case you didn't pick up on that), but we know the only thing tim asked for in return was for finn to never tell anyone that he was the one who drove him away. he agrees. (we also know that in an alternate universe, officer tim andrews did drive finn to new york, which is how NYC griffin survived.)

february 3, 1982 - finn writes in his journal: "I'm sorry Dad, I'm sorry to God for what I did" next to a blood stain. this is the date asa was looking for, so clearly something traumatic happened here which we'll see soon. it's also the last time finn writes in his journal.

march 8 through 11, 1982 - a red or black truck is seen circling the area of l'eau state park. this is only reported much later, so eyewitness accounts are conflicting. the truck may have been painted black after the crime.

march 12, 1982 - richard and finn had planned to go on an overnight hunting trip l'eau state park, but lucy had the day off work, so she decided to come with them. she started inviting their friends and it suddenly became "the worst kind of party". if things had gone according to plan, finn would have waited until his dad was asleep, then taken his bag (with all his saved money inside) and ran to meet officer tim andrews, where he waited in his (red? black? neither? truck). but everyone was still awake and partying at this point. the last thing finn remembers is leaving his bag & money behind, and making a run for the woods.

late at night on march 12, 1982 - chris porter, who attended the party at the camp site, arrives home drunk, soaking wet, and covered in mud. he gets agitated with steven, who later says that his dad was never the same after this night.

noon on march 13, 1982 - lucy atwood wakes up to find that finn is missing. she finds his bag still in the tent, so she assumes he's gone wandering. hours later, when he still hasn't come back, she and richard find the nearest payphone. first, richard calls chris porter, hoping finn had gone to see steven, but no one answers the phone. lucy calls her sister, etta, because she knows if finn ran away, that's the first place he'd go. etta doesn't know anything about finn's escape plan and urges lucy to report him as missing immediately. however, lucy and richard decide to search for finn themselves for many hours first. they're afraid they'll lose custody of finn if anyone knew their child ran away while they were drinking and doing drugs. they hide any indication of the party. in the evening, when they haven't found any sign of finn, they finally call the police.

march 14 - 18, 1982 - search teams are sent looking for finn. he never shows up at his aunt's house. officer andrews, of course, does not tell anyone about his and finn's plans – we have no idea what he does or doesn't know about that night. he could've driven away after finn was a no-show, he could've been the one who killed him, he could've seen someone else killing him, etc. no one knows. after only a few days, searches are called off due to weather (a mix of rain and snow). richard and lucy continue to do public appeals for their son, though they're quickly becoming the most hated people in the state.

march 27, 1982 - finn's body is found by a fisherman at l'eau state park. finn's parents are informed of this while live on tv. due to the cold weather, finn's body is not badly decomposed, but he was beaten so extensively that he was unrecognizable. this was not an accident. his body almost appeared to be posed, with his legs straight but his arms spread open like a cross. this is why he was given the nickname "angel of the bay" while they awaited confirmation of his identity. additionally, the cross necklace he wore was upside down on his chest. this, in the climate of satanic panic, lead many to believe he was the victim of a satanic cult killing. a lot of evidence was either never collected or was poorly preserved or outright lost/destroyed, especially once the case started to go cold.

(we know that 90s griffin survived the attack because he jumped off a cliff and played dead – this is the advice that time-traveling asa gave him, and it worked. he was unable to move, so he remained there for days before being rescued. he doesn't know / doesn't want to remember who attacked him.)

april 1982 - the police finally start conducting interviews with anyone finn knew. the problem is, it's been weeks since finn was killed and everyone's memory has gotten fuzzy. for instance, they want to find out if any of finn's classmates were absent from school and/or visibly injured the day after his death, but no one can remember. investigators have no idea about the party, and none of richard or lucy's friends are saying anything at all. steven lies and says his dad was home all night. basically no one is telling the truth, and even if they think they are, there's a huge chance they're misremembering things. the case goes cold. lucy and richard move away.

around this time, finn "wakes up" as a ghost. it's too painful for him to stay around his parents, so instead, he follows his cousin liz around in new york. it frustrates him that he can't talk to her, so he starts acting out, throwing things, etc. liz begins hearing his voice, then seeing glimpses of him, then seeing full blown apparitions. but it wasn't just finn; she started seeing other ghosts too. it scared her so badly that she told her mom about it, who encouraged her to seek help. finn felt bad and decided to leave her alone at this point. he got lost in "the nowhere" and took a nap for like... 30 years.

2006 - tim andrews is now the sheriff. he announces that finn's case will be reopened with the hopes of using new technology to find the perpetrator. it seems promising at first, as finn's name is all over the news, but it doesn't take long for the case to stall again. so much evidence is unusable by this point.

2020 - chris porter is brought in for questioning once more. he says nothing new, but it clearly shakes him. he reaches out to his son, steven, one last time, to apologize for everything he put him through. then he drives to the nearest railroad tracks, sets his truck on fire on the road, then lays down in front of an oncoming train.

2021 - steven dies of liver failure due to alcoholism. finn was able to be there for his last moments. steven tells him he named his son (who passed away years ago) after him.

2023 - asa and elaine speak to the atwoods about finn's case.

and that's all for now! i say as if this wasn't an ENTIRE podcast script fjskdjs if you read this far, here's a cookie 🍪

[hauntedwizardmoment]

Let’s hope that in Jace + the jacesverse the threesomes aren’t nearly as emotionally draining at the normal ones j2 is suggested to. Even if this isn’t the secret good version of the torment nexus maybe it can be a secret slightly better version of the torment nexus. Also obsessed w the image of Porter hand feeding j2 breakfast in bed. Even if he has to be around the toxicity he deserves to get a little spoiled

oh yeah i think the threesomes in bandverse are much less emotionally draining and more just straight-up emotional. j2's so enmeshed with jace and porter and theyre so gentle with him, treating him so sweetly and talking about how theyre going to take care of him forever, he won't ever have to worry about anything ever again. bluejay's gonna cry multiple times out of joy. his brain is still cooked and he's absolutely getting isolated from everyone but it's slightly better bc at least he's not trapped in the basement.

and YEAH both porter and jace are spoiling him. porter's very "knight in shining armor"-coded in this one he's always doing some romance novel love interest bullshit with j2. breakfast in bed. a dozen red roses. kissing in the rain. meanwhile jace is essentially doing 24/7 BDSM with j2 by obsessing over his appearance a la brutally honest friend who means well and telling him to do things just to see if he'll obey. he'll make j2 go through an elaborate skincare routine and put a facemask on him and tell him "hold still for five minutes. don't move." and sets a timer for that long and watches j2 go perfectly still. and then calls him a good boy afterwards. it's JUST on the verge of plausible deniability if j4 ever asks about it being a weird sex thing (she does not, she wants to get bluejay out of there but not enough to interact with jace and porter more than she has to)

[blissfulxsins]

CONTROL-Wally Clark

"it hurts when I remember and I never want to feel that again.."

Synopsis: in which wally and reader bond over their controlling parents

Part one! Not much wally in this first chapter but I hope you see the potential

🌟✨🌟✨🌟✨

Y/,n was born into a prestigious family. She was in all the gifted courses at school and to put it simply failure was never an option. Being in almost every possible extra curricular came with a ton of stress.

She remembered the first time she'd received an A- on an exam, she remembered the anger and disappointed looks upon her parents faces. How they demanded you ask the teacher for extra credit even though there was still a few months left in the school year and there were still plenty of defining assignments.

She came from a family with 5 siblings, each more exceptional and brilliant than the last, until y/n. Her father always pushed his children to be the best, and he was successful, 3 doctors and a lawyer came from the y/l/n household and you were his latest ment-ee.

There wasn't a ton of time left over for normal teenage things, like parties of football games for example. But being the captain of the soccer team it was expected to let loose every once in awhile before a big game. And you were careful, or so you'd thought until Wilson Porter QB, trashed your party with a massive keg and the rest of the football team. The party was shut down within the hour and your father was forced to collect you from the police station.

"what has gotten into you?" Your father scolded as you climbed into the car.

"dad it was just a party! I wasn't even drinking I,-" you stuttered.

,"you'd risk your entire future on a silly party" her father laughed bitterly

"I'm 17 dad. Any other kid-"

"You are not any other kid y/n! You are a y/l/n

"And I thought you had the capability of being exceptional! So imagine my disappointment when you turned out to be nothing more than ordinary!" Her father had spat as your face dropped and a tear escaped your eyes.

✨✨✨✨✨

You snapped out of the memory as you reingaged with the group before you, Mr martins words doing little to comfort you as you thought most of the things he said we're complete bullshit.

"for someone who's Job is to get people out of here, the room is still looking pretty full." The new girl Maddie snapped causing you to chuckle quietly before leaving after her.

You found yourself in your favorite place on campus,the art room as you shut yourself away as you usually did and worked intently on the painting you'd been working on for the past few weeks

"it's really coming together." A masculine voice called, wally shutting the door quietly behind him as he joined her on the bench.

"it's far from finished." You hummed as your eyes remained on the canvas before you.

"so uh, homecoming is next week." He said casually

"my twenty-fifth if Im correct." She said as she dipped her brush into the blue and swirled it around

"we're going together right,? I mean we have been but-"

"of course wally." You smiled softly before settling into a comfortable silence as the Clark boy watched your masterpiece grow.

[remidyal]

Poison/Bane/Malignancy Snippets - Bad Kids PoVs

These are snippet outtakes from the series I love the most that my readers don't seem to, Poison from the PoV of the bad kids. These are following the good ending for Malignancy, and also take @20dimensionsoftangerine 's story of Blight into account.

First, a snippet from about two weeks after Bane, when Adaine is declared dead by her parents and Fallinel:

There was silence at the Bad Kids' usual lunch table, the five of them all staring down at the story Riz had pulled up on his crystal after he had received a news alert.

Fallinel Ambassador's Daughter Declared Dead

There was a picture at the top, a group shot of the Abernant family, Angwyn and Arianwen Abernant in the the background, Aelwyn Abernant right between them. Adaine was on the left side. She was halfway cropped out of the image, but was scowling down at the ground from what they could see.

None of them spoke for the moments necessary to read the very brief obituary, nor for some time after, the pall that had already been over them growing thicker in the air. It was Kristen that finally broke the silence.

"I mean, this is bullshit, right?" She asked, but her voice was trembling. "I know her family are wizards, but I think she was the only diviner?"

"Of course it's bullshit!" Fig said. "Adaine always says her family sucks, this is just more proof of it. They're happy to get rid of her, just look at them! But I'm telling you - we need to look more closely into Porter."

Their investigation into Adaine's disappearance had been stonewalled at every turn over the last two weeks. She had definitely been in her Enchantment class that Monday, and she'd never turned up at the Arcana Knowledge class that had been ten minutes later - they had plenty of evidence on both sides of that. The in between was the problem; they'd interrogated dozens of students who might have been in the halls between classes, and gotten nothing out of it.

The camera footage that was supposed to be recorded of the halls was all missing a full hour at that time, too; Biz Glitterdew had looked embarrassed about it, but claimed it must have been taken by staff. Given that Daybreak was dead, that was more than a little worrying if another person was involved; Fig was insitent that it was their Barbarian instructor.

Gorgug shook his head. "Porter was in class with us on time on the other side of campus. I don't think he could have had time to do anything to Adaine, Fig." They had had this discussion more than once, too.

Fabian, at last, stood up and spoke loudly, other students looking at them in annoyance. "I don't think we're going to get anything else by just looking for Adaine, anymore. I think we need to… Well, I hate to say it, but I think we need to look into the Ball's case of missing girls. If we find them, I think we will find Adaine among them." He waved a hand at the crystal, and added. "We have to believe that. That has to be a lie."

This next one is right after they're arrested following a very similar arcade fight:

Fig collapsed to sitting on the floor of the jail cell they'd been placed in, screaming at the void or maybe just the federal agents who were lurking right out of sight. "You've got the wrong fuckin' people! Go arrest Penelope Everpetal and do something actually useful!"

The feds remained steadfastly uninterested in the information that they had gotten from Biz Glitterdew, before Riz had covered a wall of the arcade with his brain. At least he wouldn't get away with his crimes unpunished.

It was Kristen again who said what they were all afraid of. "…All of the girls except Adaine were there, though. Even if we lost them, at least we know Biz thinks they're back in their real bodies somewhere. Do you think he was right about…?"

Biz had claimed, at gunpoint, that Penelope was supposed to get Adaine into a palimpsest, but that something had gone wrong and the 'data' as he had called it had been lost. Permanently. Adaine's soul, scattered to the ether or some shit just because of a mistake in a spell. Or maybe just trapped in the air in a supply closet at Aguefort.

That had been not long before Riz had pulled the trigger on his head instead of just the fingers; they didn't really have a reason to doubt Biz's story.

"It simply must not be so." Fabian said, shaking his head again. "Here's what we're going to do: We're going to get my father to get us out of this gods damned prison, we're going to throttle some answers out of Penelope Everpetal, and if her answers are the same as what Biz told us, we'll all take turns shooting off some of HER fingers before we kill her."

And finally, one from Adaine's PoV of the Prom and its immediate aftermath:

The sounds of battle raged around Adaine, trapped still in crystal, unable to tell if her friends were winning or not but so so worried and so so glad that they had made it out of prison. She was barely attached to herself within the prison, at this point; this body wasn't real, this place wasn't real, only the glimpses she could get of the events outside mattered.

Lightning. Aelwyn, a soft look on her face Adaine had never seen directed at her before, the first person who wasn't Penelope to hold the crystal since Adaine had been trapped there. She'd heard her sister more than once, but not seen her. Penelope had always kept her carefully out of sight.

The moment didn't last. Goldenhoard - now a giant red dragon - descended up Aelwyn, who turned to face him and sent Adaine flying through the air, a terrifying experience. She didn't know what would happen to her if she were to shatter, but it would be nothing good she was certain.

Riz snatched her from the air, and stared into the crystal, even his face giant relative to the palimpsest Adaine was trapped in, but the shock was clear, and even more so in his voice, almost sounding as though he could not believe it. "Adaine..?" He asked, and a tear escaped from his eye, rolling down his cheek.

She had no way to reply, of course, not verbally. She tried to wave, though she wasn't completely certain how visible she was from the outside, and… Riz tilted the crystal slightly, and Adaine got another view of her sister putting up a fight against the dragon, who had abandoned any efforts against other attackers to focus on her. Aelwyn was shockingly good in a fight for someone who had spent her life disdaining practical forms of casting, at least in front of their parents.

She was not good enough to face a dragon who was personally enraged at her. The last thing Adaine saw that she could remember was her sister staring sightlessly up, blood pooling around her, claw and bite marks all over her. Panic settled in, and she felt herself detaching from this excuse for a body, and did not struggle not to, her eyes going blank.

She didn't really remember anything else until the AV room.

And then there was something she hadn't truly felt in months - physical pain, as she landed onto a floor. A breeze of actual air against her skin. A group of people crowded around her, some larger than others but far too many after months of the purest isolation imaginable.

Oh. They were mostly all saying her name. And crying. Her friends, alive and well through the fight. Fabian and Gorgug each grabbed a hand, pulling her to her feet, and Arthur Aguefort was standing nearby even though he was months dead, and she couldn't be certain if this was really happening or if the crystal had malfunctioned in some way that corrupted her mind.

Check, by asking about the last thing she remembered. She thought hard for a moment, trying to communicate that way, before embarrassedly remembering that unlike Penelope noone here would be running a Detect Thoughts on her.

"Your sister was Revivified by young Miss Applebees here, Miss Abernant. The police are holding her in front of the school." Arthur Aguefort, who apparently WAS running a Detect Thoughts on her, said, the mention of Aelwyn who had jumped in pulling Adaine back to her own body, reminding her how to speak.

Which she needed to now, no matter that desperate, agonizing joy that her friends were looking at her with.

"Right, um, I need to talk with her before they take her away, give me five minutes?" She begged her friends, before turning away and walking.

"You've got two!" Fabian yelled behind her, clearly reluctant to even give her that much. She had best make this time count; it might be a long time before her friends let her have any to herself again, after however long.