#oc: azriel omar | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-silver-chronicles · 6 months ago

Text

Siblings Q&A | Silva & Elsa Omar ONESHOT

Tagged by @raresbaby and @inafieldofdaisies

Tagging @voidika @icecutioner @socially-awkward-skeleton @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @strafethesesinners @rhettsabbott @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @imogenkol @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @aceghosts @turbo-virgins @shellibisshe @deputy-morgan-malone @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @sleepyconfusedpotato @titiagls @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @thesingularityseries and @nightwingshero + anyone else who wants to join. Taglist here.

Hey guys, SimpleGenius here! Decided to turn this short Q&A into a legitimate Oneshot for The Silver Chronicles, involving two OCs of mine; Silva and her younger half-sister, Elsa, set in a time in Hope County where Silva had no knowledge of Eden's Gate and the Omar's experienced a time of normalcy. There should be nothing but fluff, yes-siree. Oneshot below the cut:

The buzz of the worn-out camcorder complimented the numbing visuals of the frozen static, but swiftly the unused device booted up.

The specter on the screen was both haunting and ethereal, a memory from a time so much simpler. A normality so sparse in time.

With her trusty camcorder in hand, Elsa admired herself in the mirror. Hair twisted in many small blonde braids, wearing a white sundress laced with magenta patterns that looked like flowers.

The camcorder fizzled, the screen going blank for a moment. She gave it a good whack, faded red paint dusting her black gloves, and the camcorder proceeded to work like normal.

Elsa carried the camcorder away from the mirror, passing through into a lounge. Her hermana, dressed in a yellow flannel and black jeans, her dark hair flowing past her shoulders, seated on their couch having a cup of coffee.

"You ready, Sylvie?" Elsa asked, shuffling cards out of frame. Sylvester placed her cup onto the coffee table, laced gloves fixing creases on a dress she's not wearing. Realizing this, she stops the action and awkwardly cups her knees.

"Si, uh, seguro," Sylvester muttered out, clearing her throat, "How does this work?"

"Essentially, from what Rae-Rae told me, this is a fun little game where siblings answer questions for that net-work mambo-jumbo," Elsa explained, and again shuffled the flash cards she prepared.

"And since we're both sane enough to not invite people to put their noses into where they don't belong, I thought maybe, instead of doing this for strangers, we do it for Persephone," Elsa elaborates further.

Sylvester blinks, grey eyes staring at her younger hermana like a doe caught in headlights. She tilts her head, her right cheek sunk in, chewing her inner cheek.

"Elsa, she's una," Sylvester points out.

"Yeah, I know that," Elsa sighs, understanding but exasperated, "But she won't be for long. When she's older, we can show her this. Let her get to know her mamá and tía some more."

Sylvester's lips didn't quite frown, but she wasn't unconvinced either. "Derecha," she nodded, still wrapping her head around the camcorder's functions.

Elsa was likely grinning behind the camcorder, "Exactly! Now, to make this a bit more fun, I shuffled the questions out of order. Now let's begin."

Elsa showed the flash cards, the shuffle complete, and flipped over the first one.

"Question 19: Who has the worst ideas?" Elsa asked aloud.

Sylvester snorted, uncharacteristic of the person she's supposed to be, a small teasing smile on her healing chapped lips, "Well we both know who that is."

Elsa let out an exaggerated gasp, feigned offense, "Why Sylvie, I am but a respectable, humble and pious shopkeeper. Do you insinuate that I am anything but?"

"Bold words coming from the local daredevil who likes to worry her hermana to near-death," Sylvester retorts, arms crossed.

"...I'm guessing Rae-Rae snitched about my escapes on her roof?"

Sylvester had no need to answer, though Elsa must have seen that she had nothing to worry over, as Sylvester's smile held only amusement.

"Next question," Elsa declared, moving on, "Number 7: Most stable romantic life?"

Both wondered briefly, and Elsa states, "I gotta give this one to you Sylvie. You managed one relationship with Irene far longer than any ones I've had in our time here."

Sylvester narrows her eyes at Elsa, raising a quizzical brow, "Is that so? You and Ezekiel were like two peas in a pod every time you both talked with each other."

"That was brief, and we weren't official. Just some one-upping through flirtation. And he had been a real jerk at first, remember? At least you and Irene had a better start," Elsa deflects, waving a hand onscreen as she desperately denied her hermana's accusations.

Sylvester merely nods her head in feigned agreement as Elsa brings out the next question.

"Question 12: Best memory together?"

Sylvester leaned back on the couch, looking up for a moment. With Sylvester pondering which memory she liked the most, Elsa already found one.

"I'd say buying this residence," Elsa admits, "A place we can forever call our home. Wouldn't you agree?"

Sylvester looked to Elsa, and gave a short nod, "Si, it is up there. But... I'd say my favorite would be when it first rained. Just... playing and dancing like kids do... like we should have been allowed to do."

Elsa must have sensed the solemness in her voice, and replied, "At least we got to do it."

Sylvester hummed, appreciative of that fact.

"Question 15: Would you rather not being able to shower for a month or have the same clothes for a month?"

Sylvester was immediate in her response, "Not shower for a month, obviously. We can just bathe in baths instead."

Elsa laughed, cheerful and loud, "Never thought you'd be the one to take advantage of a loophole Sylvie."

Sylvester smile wholeheartedly, grey eyes sincere as she admitted, "I learned the best from my crafty little hermana."

"Aww," Elsa lightheartedly cooed, and proceeded forward, "Question 5: Who sleeps the most?"

Sylvester raised her hand, "Mother of one very curious and fussy niñita, right here."

"No arguments there," Elsa replied, "Question 14: Dream trip together?"

In a moment of synchronized thought between hermanas, they both state, "Spain."

"Question 16: Who's the older one?"

Sylvester raised her hand once again. Elsa flipped to the next flash card, "Question 10: Who had a weird phase?"

Both pondered for a moment, trying to think of any moment in their lives of such a phase.

"I don't think we were ever given a chance to do so," Elsa states. Sylvester hummed in agreement, shaking her head in confirmation.

"Alright then! Question 6..."

Elsa paused, reading the flash card: 'Who's Mom and Dad's favorite? (If there is one?)'

Sylvester waits, worry building in her gut, and asks, "What's the question?"

Elsa hesitated, but responded, "Who's.... mo- ahem, father's favorite..."

Sylvester briefly gaped, but recovered, stating, "Well, we both know the answer to that question is neither of us."

Elsa hummed, throwing the card away as she proceeded with the next one, "Question 18: Role Model? Mine's you, of course. But who's yours Sylvie?"

"I'd have to say Paul," Sylvester mustered out, clearing her throat, "He saved me after all. Raised me. Gave me something that we were denied."

"I wish I got to meet him," Elsa admits, "From what you told me, he was funny and dramatic."

Sylvester smiled at Elsa's words, "You two would have adored each other."

Allowing Sylvester a moment to keep herself together, Elsa proceeded to the next card, "Question 3: Who eats the most?"

She raised her hand this time, the various rings displayed for the camcorder to catch, "That'd be me! Speaking of which..."

Sylvester cringed, swiftly adding, "I had a sandwich earlier."

But Elsa was not deterred, "While that's good, you skipped breakfast nor have you had any fruits or snacks prior to lunch."

"I'll have something later," Sylvester flimsily promised. Elsa, not satisfied, retorts, "I'll hold you to that."

"Question 8: Worst habit of each one?"

Sylvester sighed, "Well, you already know mine. Though your recklessness is concerning considering your condition Elsa."

"I'm not made of glass, Sylvie."

"Elsa, your bones are brittle and break easily."

"...Okay I'm a little like glass, but I'm not stupid. I can take care of myself. I know what I'm doing when I climb a tree, or go bungee jumping or help Rae-Rae around her farm," Elsa defends. Her hermana replies, "I... I know that Elsa, but even so, you've been seeking out riskier and riskier thrills lately, and I can't... help but worry."

"I appreciate it," Elsa assures, and adds, "But you worry way too often."

Sylvester doesn't argue, and Elsa takes advantage of the momentary silence, "Question 4: Who has been on the weirdest situations?"

Neither hermana could think of either one being in a "weird" situation. Sylvester opted to gesture to Elsa, "Well, given your escapades so far, I vote you."

Elsa huffed, "Seeking thrill is not the same as getting stuck in chance and strange situations."

"And how likely am I going to be in such situations?"

Elsa mumbles, indistinctly playful, and moves on, "Question 20: A GIANT insect is on the wall, who's taking care of it?"

Sylvester raises a brow, "Whoever finds it first."

"Pfft, a bug ain't that scary," Elsa comments, "Question 17: Describe each other in three words."

Elsa and Sylvester held gaze for a moment blurted out their answer.

"My badass worrywart-hermana." "Daring little hermana."

There was a silent beat before both responded to such descriptions.

"Surely that is four words, Elsa," Sylvester argued, but Elsa interrupted with her pointer finger as she replied, "Ah, but you forget my lovely older hermana, the power a hyphen holds."

Sylvester shook her head in disbelief, but did not debate further as Elsa brought forth the next question, "Question 1: Who looks the... ah mierda, another one?"

'Who looks the most like dad?' the question read.

"Is it another relating to... him?" Sylvester tested, her lips pursed in a thin line, her voice softer and quieter than normal. Her grey eyes dulled, hands clenched into her jeans.

Elsa sighs, a hand going out of the camcorder's view, probably to play with her blonde locks, and most likely undo a braid in the process.

"I... Do you mind if we skip this one?" Elsa asks, and Sylvester eagerly nods, much to Elsa's relief, "Question 11: Best cook of the family?"

Elsa answers before Sylvester could have a chance, "Yeah, I can't cook for shit, that's you right there, Sylvie."

Sylvester closes mouth, making no comment on Elsa's lack of culinary skill. Elsa flips the next flash card, "Question 9: Who's the most dramatic?! Why that would be me!"

Sylvester nodded with absolute certainty.

"Question 8: Worst habit of each one?"

Sylvester beat Elsa to the tea, "I got this. I'm a nagging worrywart who forgets her own needs sometimes, and you, mi querida hermana, are a crafty daredevil with a big ego that often gets you into trouble."

"Hah! Wow, you know me so well," Elsa said, flipping to the next flash card, but mentions, "However, you're wrong in your description; you're not a nagger."

Sylvester doesn't visibly react to this, but she seems to be stuck in a forlorn gaze. However, the next question snaps her out of this odd pause, and Sylvester listens attentively.

"Question 13... uh, worst memory together?"

Sylvester and Elsa pondered together, brainstorming.

"Our entire childhood was jodido and never the best," Elsa mentions. Sylvester frowns, and points out, "Si, but the run for the docks weren't any better."

Elsa couldn't not hum in agreement, and she moves on, "Last Question. Number 2: Who looks the most like mom...?"

Sylvester looks baffled as Elsa blows a raspberry, "Irrelevant. We've never met nor did we have the same mother."

Elsa throws away that flashcard out of the camcorder's view, much to Sylvester's visible annoyance.

"And... that's it. We finished the game. Yay!" Elsa lightly cheered, her camcorder focusing on Sylvester, "So... food for thought?"

Silva watched herself, younger and with so much more innocence, more hope, than she had now. The camcorder in her gloved hands was running hot, the flashing sunset-red indicating a coming end, but she could care less, holding onto the memory in her hands for as long as she could.

Sylvester chewed her inner cheek and said, "Besides two nosy ones, I'd say it was... nice?"

Elsa's mock offended gasp was as exaggerated as the younger hermana's mannerisms had always been, "Just 'nice'? This is a memorial moment for the both of us. It is evidence for Persephone to watch and rewatch for years to come."

Elsa placed the camcorder on the coffee table, and sat down next to Sylvester on the couch, a big grin spread out, pearly teeth shown. She grabs a hold of Sylvester's laced gloved hands, despite the latter's exasperation over the former's words.

"Wasn't it you who emphasized the importance of this? To immortalize ourselves through memories our family can visit decades after we're gone? Whether it be through ink, our voices or our image? You have to agree that this is quite a viable way to do that," Elsa assures Sylvester, who's doubt dissipated the longer she thought.

The camcorder began to buffer, the orange-red blinking faster, but Silva continued to watch, wanting to savoir this for as long as she could.

Sylvester's grey eyes looked to Elsa, softly asking, "Okay. But I have to ask; are you sure?"

Elsa laughed, her dimples caught by the camcorder's lens, as she says-

Nothing.

The camcorder's screen was blank, only reflecting Silva. The blinking light gone, the heat prevalent, and despite desperately pushing the power button repeatedly, Silva knew she wouldn't get those reassuring words she needed to hear. Not now. Nor ever again.

Silva's shoulders slumped, still sat down on the old wooden floor in the decrepit corpse of her home. The home she had taken care of for almost a decade. Even after her hermana's death, despite the ache for her visits. Even after Persephone's passing, though the yearning for her hija's laughter echoing in the halls hurt more and more with their absence.

And now... her residence, her home, was nothing more than a burned and decrepit husk full of dust and debris. All the memories that mattered, all the memories she held close to her, the journals, the photos, the shrines they rested under, were all tattered and ripped and frayed and singed and gone. Just gone.

And now... with exception to Silva's own visage of Elsa... the last thing of her hermana that she could have shown to her familia, could no longer function. The Collapse had reduced the resources required to charge such a small device to ash. Even if something survived, the camcorder was aged, and had some bugs.

Silva flipped the lid screen closed, clutching the little camcorder in her gloved hands, pushing it against her chest as she let out a shaky breath. The foliage that claimed her house rustled as a breeze swept past.

She shook where she sat, holding onto the pain, the knowledge that change has come and another chance away from her before she could appreciate it.

The wood creaked, and Silva didn't want to look at her amor's beautiful face, didn't want to shoulder her with more of her own pain and grief. But a dainty hand cupped her face, and Silva couldn't resist, relenting to her beloved's request.

Her tearful grey eyes connected with the warm green of Faith's. Her beloved, her esposa, her amor. Her Faith.

I am hers. And she is mine. As we both vowed.

And Silva wouldn't hide herself away from her. Couldn't. Even if she tried. How could she? They both knew the best and worst of each other. Intimately.

There was no judgement pitting them against one another anymore. Like now, there was only understanding. The grief for a present that they could no longer return to.

Silva did not resist the tears that fell across her cheeks. Nor did she push away Faith when she wrapped her arms around her. An embrace that held a strength that others underestimated about her. Both possessive and a comfort. All to tell Silva, I'm here.

Silva felt two more pairs of arms hold around her. The first was of her inventive Azriel, her grip unyielding as she buried herself into Silva's shoulder, just like she had done when she found her at age nine.

And the second came from her youngest. Her Mercy, clutching onto her with small hands, light-brown hair nuzzling into her body, perhaps not quite knowing why her madre was sad now that they were out of the bunker, but doing her best to lighten the load with her presence.

Silva placed down the old camcorder, and did her best to compensate in the embrace by wrapping her arms around her Faith and precious hijas. Her familia.

The grief was ever present, but this time, Silva would not be lost to it.

[A/n] I lied, the fluff was merely a front, there's only angst here. Well, mostly at least. Set before Old Dusk (the New Dawn WIP), with only a camcorder showing pre-Silva's Hope stuff. They probably only recently left Silva's bunker and well, Silva's obviously gonna be depressed about the state of everything. At least she has her family to keep her grounded? Also I haven't written in a while, so if it was repetitive or tone death, my bad, I've been trying to get my motivation back. Anywho, hope you enjoyed this lovely (and angsty) oneshot, and see y'all in the next one!

#series: the silver chronicles #far cry 5 #oc: silva omar #oc: elsa omar #tag game #q&a #oc tag game #far cry new dawn #faith seed #oc: azriel omar #oc: mercy omar-seed #otp: boa lurking in the bliss #ship: silva omar x faith seed #set pre and post “silva's hope”#but set before “old dusk”#fun fact: silva was raised in the tumultite community and they had a very significant custom of making sure to remember loved ones #even after their deaths and to always chronicle each member so they are never forgotten decades or centuries later. everyone was important.#and they did not deserve to be forgotten. and with silva now the (seemingly) last member of the tumultites and with most of her progress #in keeping alive the physical memory of everyone she loved now unfortunately reduced because of the collapse she finds it as a personal #failure and let down to the community she loved felt like she belonged in before coming to hope county (and even then she's assumed #not many of the residents in hope county had made it considering the damage both eden's gate and the congregation wrought + the nukes)#also just for clarification: azriel is the daughter silva adopts during “silva's hope” wip during the reaping #while mercy is both silva and faith's surprise baby daughter that they have in silva's bunker #(though time of conception could have happened before or during their stay in the bunker i've left that open)

33 notes · View notes

holycompendium · 5 months ago

Text

Ascendants OC Masterlist ⛊ Pt. 1

⚔︎ quick context : ascendants is my upcoming descendants fic series centered around merlin academy. you can catch the first chapter of the first installment right here!

ADAM ST. ROSE

Fate : Become cursed to live as a beast & marry Belle. Face Claim : Maxwell Jenkins

ANA CRESTA

Legacy : Daughter of a Neverlandian mermaid. Face Claim : Daniela Avanzini

ARTHUR "ART" PENDRAGON II

Legacy : Son of King Arthur of Camelot. Face Claim : Joshua Bassett

ASTERIA CHARIS

Legacy : Adopted daughter of Erato, muse of lyrical poetry. Face Claim : Bailey Bass

AZRIEL INDIRA

Legacy : Son of the Blue Fairy. Face Claim : Omar Rudberg

BELLE BAPTISTE

Fate : Marry the beast king Adam & establish the United States of Auradon. Face Claim : Zoe Colletti

CASPIAN DELMAR

Legacy : Son of Arista, nephew to Ariel & Eric. Face Claim : Reece King

LYNN ORELLA

Fate : Become the all-powerful enchantress who curses Prince Adam. Face Claim : Choi Yunjin

CLAUDE FROLLO

Fate : Become the villainous archdeacon of Notre-Dame. Face Claim : Case Walker

CRUELLA DE VIL

Fate : Descend into madness and become a tyrannical heiress. Face Claim : Riele Downs

ELI LA BOUFF

Fate : Inherit his family's business and become a wealthy sugar baron. Face Claim : Maxwell Acee Donovan

EUGENE "FITZ" FITZHERBERT

Fate : Abandon his royal heritage and become the thief Flynn Rider. Face Claim : Aryan Simhadri

FINCH

Legacy : Illegitimate son of Robin Hood. Face Claim : Brandon Severs

GASTON LEGUME

Fate : Become an arrogant and selfish game hunter. Face Claim : Belmont Cameli

GRIMHILDE

Fate : Become the Evil Queen & stepmother to Snow White. Face Claim : Ariana Greenblatt

JAFAR

Fate : Become the scheming royal vizier of Agrabah. Face Claim : Jahed

KIRSTI LINDT

Legacy : Daughter of Anna & Kristoff, niece to Elsa. Face Claim : Shay Rudolph

LEAH ROSE

Fate : Marry King Stefan and give birth to Aurora. Face Claim : Dior GoodJohn

LOUIS FACILIER

Fate : Sell his own soul in exchange for the power of a Hodou bokor. Face Claim : Niles Fitch

MIMINA "MIMI" MIM

Legacy : Granddaughter of Mad Madam Mim. Face Claim : Avantika Vandanapu

MAI TREMAINE

Fate : Become the head of the house of Tremaine & become Cinderella's stepmother. Face Claim : Kang Haerin

MULAN FA

Fate : Defeat the Hun army and save the Imperial Kingdom. Face Claim : Zhou Xinyu

ODILE "ODIE" ARNAUD-CHRISTOPHE

Fate : Become an eccentric & benevolent Houdou priestess. Face Claim : Whitney Peak

SAM "SMEE" SMIEGEL

Fate : Serve as Captain Smith's boatswain and first loyal mate. Face Claim : Owen Joyner

STEFAN MOREAU

Fate : Marry Queen Leah & father Aurora. Face Claim : Kahlil Beth

URSULA

Fate : Become a fearsome sea witch. Face Claim : Chandler Kinney

ZEVON

Legacy : Son of Yzma. Face Claim : Charlie Bushnell

#disney descendants #descendants the rise of red #descendants oc #ascendants #masterlist #oc masterlist #character list #⚔︎

28 notes · View notes

simplegenius042 · 7 months ago

Text

Music Monday, Ship Traits Meme & 5 Songs Game

Tagged by @josephseedismyfather @imogenkol @inafieldofdaisies @voidika and @cassietrn

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @strangefable @strafethesesinners @rhettsabbott @g0dspeeed @josephslittledeputy @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @icecutioner @softtidesworld @shallow-gravy @derelictheretic @aceghosts @turbo-virgins @shellibisshe @red-nightskies @starsandskies @ladyoriza @florbelles @skoll-sun-eater @cloudofbutterflies92 @afarcryfrommymain @titiagls @la-grosse-patate @minilev and @thewanderer-000

A song for The Silver Chronicles, ship meme for The UnTitledverse, Life, Despair & Monsters and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore, plus listing five of my favorite songs below the cut:

Out of all the songs in Disney's Wish, the only one which really touched me was "At All Costs". In the context of The Silver Chronicles, it can be viewed in two ways; either Kamski Neon is declaring is promise that no matter the cost, he will protect Silva as she is the closest thing to family he has left, and her returning this promise, OR, Silva is reminiscing on Paul's past promise to protect and love her as a parent should, and echoes these words to Azriel in the present. [Fun fact: I did not enjoy Wish. I enjoyed very, VERY few things in it, and personally wouldn't recommend watching it, but you can do you.]

youtube

"If happiness was a tangible thing It would be you If you'd have told me the feeling you'd bring I'd think it untrue And people search for a wonder like you All of their lives You still amaze me after all this time

You pull me in like some kind of wind Mesmerized by the hold I'm in Leave you here, I don't wanna I wanna

Promise as one does I, I will protect you at all costs Keep you safe here in my arms I, I will protect you at all costs At all costs."

"What's pain, when I look at you? No way I could explain you, even if I tried to I'll never dream like I used to do If someone tried to hurt you, I don't See how that could happen I'd fight for you in ways you can't imagine Felt this, no, I haven't, I hope It would be all right to stay right here beside you."

"And promise as one does I, I will protect you at all costs Keep you safe here in my arms I, I will protect you at all costs At all costs

If you're ever feeling like you're lost I'll come find you Man all fronts, there's no ocean I won't swim across To be right by you And not just once, here and now, I swear on my response I'll remind you

And promise as one does I, I will protect you at all costs Keep you safe here in my arms I, I will protect you at all costs At all costs."

Rules: bold/color the themes that apply to your ship, and italicize the theme if it’s one-sided, within your story.

MARIO EMMET x CHARLIE EMILY (THE UNTITLEDVERSE)

height difference (6'3" vs 5'4") / mutual pining / first kiss / wedding / in-jokes / lgbtq+ (Charlie is Bi and both her and Mario are polyamorous leading to their future relationship with Elizabeth Afton) / family disapproves (Henry doesn't approve of his android-copy of his dead daughter romancing a shapeshifting alien that is carnivorous, but if Abigail was alive, she'd approve because she loves her boy and Charlie's a catch) / would die for each other / would kill for each other / fake relationship / arranged wedding / cuddlers / pda friendly (Mario is really touch-starved, while Charlie isn't) / and they were roommates / holding hands / secret relationship / opposing worldviews / getting a pet / have kids / want kids / grow old together (originally the plan before they eventually go from "android x shapeshifter-alien young romance" to "gods of the new world") / relationship failures / rests head on shoulder / share a bed / relationship doubts / they have a song / first date (for Mario) / sharing a blanket / mutual interests / study buddies (Charlie attempted this but Mario is not helpful whatsoever) / bathing together / crash into hello / accidental nudity / laundry / same hobbies / cooking for each other (Mario cooks the bigger and flavoured dishes while Charlie is more of a simpler easier food kind of person) / big fancy gala / forehead touches / hair stroking (Mario doesn't have hair) / sitting on each other’s laps / sexual tension / can’t be together / battle couple / Friends to Lovers / Enemies to Lovers (initially Mario thought Charlie was a rival apart of his species since her body that housed her soul was different from regular humans so he attempted to eat her) / Lovers to Enemies / KEEPING SECRETS (misunderstanding: Mario thought Charlie was apart of his species because of her physical forms difference from the rest of her friends leading him to believe she was trying to steal his territory/kill him in general while Charlie eventually thinks Mario knows something of her origins and eventually thinks he knew she was an android before she figured it out, which was far from Mario's deduction) / love after loss / exes / declaration of love / flirting / love triangle (Charlie had the choice between her gentle and supportive childhood friend whom she has great chemistry with but doesn't feel the same way for and stops her from doing impulsive dumb shit or the alien shapeshifter who initially tried to eat her mistaking her for someone else and is more likely to go along with her impulsive dumb shit) / destructive romance / envy (Mario was jealous of Charlie's integration in human society not realizing she was an android and not another of his species) / “I Don’t Want to Ruin Our Friendship” (especially considering Charlie was an android who thought she was human and Mario is a shapeshifting alien, neither had thought their feelings would be reciprocated) / shared values / slow burn / does not end well / happily ever after (at the very, very end of the series, they ascend to godhood because positions were open so... I guess?) / love letters

HAOYU ANABUKI x ICARUS GALATOS (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS)

height difference / mutual pining / first kiss / wedding / in-jokes / lgbtq+ (Haoyu is non-binary attracted to men and Icarus is ace and doesn't mind who the person is as long as their personality is worth hyperfixating on) / family disapproves (nah, Monika's happy for her half-sibling and Icarus' fam are just glad he's got a partner) / would die for each other (more accurately they'd risk their lives for each other but would avoid actual death at all costs) / would kill for each other (Haoyu doesn't like to kill but Icarus would let Hatter do the killing) / fake relationship / arranged wedding / cuddlers / pda friendly / and they were roommates / holding hands / secret relationship (mostly on Icarus side of things, but eventually he reveals Haoyu to his family) / opposing worldviews (Icarus believes personal satisfaction comes from doing good to others while Haoyu believes upholding self-interest is satisfying enough) / getting a pet / have kids / want kids / grow old together / relationship failures / rests head on shoulder/ share a bed / relationship doubts (Icarus side of things considering he (plus his alters) are Hatter's avatar/s) / they have a song / first date / sharing a blanket / mutual interests / study buddies / bathing together / crash into hello / accidental nudity / laundry / same hobbies / cooking for each other / big fancy gala / forehead touches / hair stroking / sitting on each other’s laps / sexual tension / can’t be together / battle couple / Friends Mutual Allies to Lovers / Enemies to Lovers / Lovers to Enemies / KEEPING SECRETS / love after loss / exes / declaration of love / flirting / love triangle / destructive romance / envy / “I Don’t Want to Ruin Our Friendship” / shared values / slow burn / does not end well (will neither confirm nor deny both of their fates in the ending of the series) / happily ever after / love letters (a gag that happens; Icarus attempts this and Haoyu opens up a portal to his universe and tells him face-to-face their feelings)

MARISSA "RESS" BISHOP x PIPER WRIGHT (A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE)

height difference (6'2" vs 5'7") / mutual pining / first kiss / wedding / in-jokes (from to each others expenses to flirtatious teasing) / lgbtq+ (Piper and Ress are both Bisexual women) / family disapproves (Piper's little sister Nat thinks Ress is cool. But on Ress' side of the family, her deadbeat evil father Arcane Urias thinks humans are a regression to evolution and should be treated as livestock more than anything and if Ore, Ress' half-brother, was alive at the time, he'd approve her choice, but Ress human family members, the Bishop Crime Family, might not like the idea of her being with a JOURNALIST of all things) / would die for each other / would kill for each other / fake relationship / arranged wedding / cuddlers / pda friendly / and they were roommates / holding hands / secret relationship / opposing worldviews / getting a pet (Dogmeat!... and whatever Ress keeps bringing home to freak out Piper and make Nat think she's cool) / have kids / want kids / grow old together (God Ress wishes she could do this with Piper) / relationship failures / rests head on shoulder / share a bed / relationship doubts (Piper has insecurities while Ress wrestles with the fact she'll outlive Piper) / they have a song / first date / sharing a blanket (Ress hogs the f***ing blanket) / mutual interests / study buddies / bathing together / crash into hello / accidental nudity / laundry / same hobbies / cooking for each other / big fancy gala / forehead touches / hair stroking / sitting on each other’s laps (Piper does this often since she knows it will fluster Ress) / sexual tension (oh god, it is so obvious to everyone) / can’t be together / battle couple / Friend(emie)s to Lovers / (Fri)Enemies to Lovers / Lovers to Enemies / KEEPING SECRETS / love after loss (at this point Ress has lost her closest friends and her own brother) / exes / declaration of love (Piper confesses this) / flirting (very aggressive teasing) / love triangle / destructive romance / envy (Piper was kinda jealous that Ress isn't self-conscious and very overconfident cocky attitude until she learned why Ress has this mask on) / “I Don’t Want to Ruin Our Friendship” / shared values / slow burn / does not end well / happily ever after? (at the end of the series? yes. post-canon offscreen though? Ress is likely to outlive Piper, something they're both aware of) / love letters

Now here's a list for my top 5 favorite songs:

Without You - Oh Wonder

Loser, Baby - Keith David, Blake Roman, Andrew Underberg & Sam Haft

Youth - Daughter

I Really Want To Stay At Your House - Hallie Coggins & Rosa Walton

Memory Reboot - Narvent & VØJ

22 notes · View notes

simplegenius042 · 8 months ago

Text

Music Monday

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @softtidesworld @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @onehornedbeast @imogenkol @g0dspeeed @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @aceghosts @shallow-gravy @shellibisshe @turbo-virgins @inafieldofdaisies @afarcryfrommymain @starsandskies @derelictheretic @purplehairsecretlair @ladyoriza @minilev @wrathfulrook @yokobai @cloudofbutterflies92 @florbelles @skoll-sun-eater @sleepyconfusedpotato @snake-in-the-garden @thewanderer-000 @titiagls @strangefable @strafethesesinners @rhettsabbott @red-nightskies @voidika and @la-grosse-patate + anyone else who's interested.

Three songs for The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters and an Original Work of minet. Also I'm putting my WIP Wednesdays on hold, as I'm working on my newest "Intro Post" and some Masterlists. Anyway, listen and read below the cut:

Silva and Azriel's mother-daughter relationship in Silva's Hope is one of the key turning points of the fic (the underlying themes of motherhood not withstanding); it causes Silva to reevaluate her standing with both Eden's Gate and the Resistance in Hope County and motivates her to take a much more proactive rogue approach, seeking to push both factions towards a peace without spilling anymore bloodshed as there had already been (before she was just trying taking out her grief, pain and her bottled up trauma onto the cult that was similar to the two that took everything from her, and hoping to get killed in the process, a roundabout way to end her own suffering without dishonoring/abandoning the sacrifices made to get her to safety). It also gives her the chance to acknowledge and accept the death of her daughter Persephone; something she's been guilt-ridden about throughout her grief, never allowing her to make peace with it. Silva's upbringing was shaky, her childhood spent with a man who's intentions towards her were anything but pure, and her adolescence spent with the father she wished she had before things went to hell. Silva sees herself in Azriel; a girl harmed by the zealotry of a cult and denied the affection she needed and craved for until later in her life. Silva hopes to be the mother Azriel can rely on, as well as a fiercer protector. This song is both a mix of Azriel and Silva's perspective (in a way), though it's also Silva echoing promises Paul had told her (when he was a better person) but directed to Azriel this time:

youtube

"There was a time, I used to look into my father's eyes In a happy home, I was a king, I had a golden throne But those days are gone, now the memory's on the wall I hear the songs from the places where I was born

Up on the hill, across the blue lake That's where I had my first heartbreak I still remember how it all changed My father said

Don't you worry, don't you worry, child See Heaven's got a plan for you Don't you worry, don't you worry now, yeah

There was a time, I met a guy of a different kind And we ruled the world, I thought I'd never lose him out of sight We were so young, I think of him now and then I still hear the songs, reminding me of a friend, oh

Up on the hill, across the blue lake That's where I had my first heartbreak I still remember how it all changed My father said

Don't you worry, don't you worry, child See Heaven's got a plan for you Don't you worry, don't you worry now, yeah Don't you worry, don't you worry, child See Heaven's got a plan for you Don't you worry, don't you worry now, yeah."

Next song is for an Original WIP of mine called Mario: Mother's Boy, a kind of origin story for one of my OCs from The UnTitledverse, Mario Emmet, a quippy shapeshifting alien that feeds on fear, and his time being raised by his mother, Abigail Emmet, who had spent nearly a century prior masquerading as a human outlaw with the Van Der Linde Gang (and feeding off the terror of her enemies). The fic starts from 1979 and ends in 1988, ending a few months Mario's other story, The Adventures of Debra Holmes and her Amazing Best Friend Mario Emmet, in The UnTitledverse. Throughout the fic, Abigail struggles with raising her very impulsively instinctively driven son, helping him masquerade as a human while teaching him human morals and culture (while retaining some of their better alien traditions that doesn't call for the disregard of other's health), going out on hunts to feed both herself and Mario (all the while terror becomes a harder emotion to elicit from her prey, though thankfully fear isn't difficult for Mario to pry out of his own prey), making decisions that put her son before herself, something that goes against her species very nature, as well as face her own impending mortality as her lifespan shortens. But for Abigail, as long as Mario is prepared to survive in this world without her, then that's enough for her, even if the time they had together was never enough.

youtube

"I'm trying to hold my breath Let it stay this way Can't let this moment end You set off a dream in me Getting louder now Can you hear it echoing? Take my hand Will you share this with me? 'Cause darling, without you

All the shine of a thousand spotlights All the stars we steal from the night sky Will never be enough, never be enough Towers of gold are still too little These hands could hold the world but it'll Never be enough, never be enough

For me Never, never Never, never Never, for me, for me Never enough Never enough Never enough For me, for me, for me

For me Never, never Never, never Never, for me, for me Never enough, never, never Never enough, never, never Never enough For me, for me, for me

For me."

Cyberpunk: Corporate Shutdown is a Cyberpunk 2077 fic apart of Life, Despair & Monsters, following Min-Ji "Vasilisa" Choi, codenamed to simply "V" (supposed to be the Roman numeral of "Five"/"Fifth" but in Night City, people are pricks, so that number became a letter), as she navigates through the cesspool that is Night City, the dominion of Arasaka on American soil. She is mentored by both Johnny Silverhand (in her head) and an old companion of his, Rico (who Arasaka had intentions to weaponize him but he managed to escape before they could touch any more organs... though he is fighting off the side effects of Cyberpsychosis due to almost being full-borg, something forced upon him by Arasaka), into the life of a Cyberpunk. They intend to burn down Arasaka and their main enforcer, Adam Smasher, along with it. However, Smasher isn't alone; he has a pet by the name of "Impulse", and it seems Militech want a piece of the action with their newest creation: "Inviticus", so helpfully designed by one Sir Enigma Malvolio.

youtube

"Young blood, run like a river Young blood, never get chained Young blood, heaven need a sinner You can't raise hell with a saint Young blood, came to start a riot Don't care what your old man say Young blood, heaven hate a sinner But we're gonna raise hell anyway

Raise hell, yeah Raise hell Somebody gotta, gotta raise a little hell Baby, drop them bones Baby, sell that soul Heaven, fare thee well Somebody gotta, gotta raise a little hell (Oh, my-my, oh, hell yeah) Somebody gotta, gotta raise a little hell (Oh, my-my, oh, hell yeah) Somebody gotta, gotta raise a little hell

Young blood, stand and deliver No need for a queen affair Young gun, gotta pull the trigger When the whole world running scared.

Raise hell!"

24 notes · View notes

the-silver-chronicles · 2 years ago

Text

1. Azriel and Schrödinger Turquoise (OC)

2. Obadiah Teal (OC) and Paul Yellowjack (OC). Also platonically Kamski Neon (OC) and Ezekiel (OC)

3. This dynamic kind of describes Father Omar (OC) and Oscar Lapis (OC) I guess…? Also Industrial!Silva (OC) and Faith Seed, platonically Kamski Neon and John Seed and another platonic Paul Yellowjack and majority of his fellow Apostles.

4. Platonically Gavin Turquoise (OC) and Silva Omar (OC). Romantically Ezekiel and Elsa Omar (OC)

Oh we’re talking about favourite ship dynamics again? Here are some of mine.

Listen… at the end of the day… if one is red and one is blue? You knoooow I’m gonna eat that shit up.

11K notes · View notes

the-silver-chronicles · 27 days ago

Text

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @imogenkol

Tagging @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @cloudofbutterflies92 @josephseedismyfather @direwombat @noodlecupcakes @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @raresvtm @derelictheretic @cassietrn @aceghosts @davrinsgriffons @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @softtidesworld @yokobai and @seedsplease + anyone else who want to join.

Three new WIPs for The Silver Chronicles. Guess what? They're another set of AUs. Because I have too many ideas to explore that just can't fit in the main story of Silva's Hope and Old Dusk (aka canon Deputy Silva's story). The first two also introduce two new OCs that can't appear in the main story, while the last one is my take on the Omegaverse. You can read below the cut:

First AU is what I've abridged as "Vengeful!Silva AU"; essentially, the gist of it is that Paul becomes doubtful of his own ability as a parental figure after the Enforcer's first assault on the Minas, and worried for Sylvester's safety, decides she needs to leave the Archipiélagos, out of Adam's reach (as opposed to the main story where the attack resulted in Paul only doubling down in his role as a father to Sylvester and training her to defend herself should the worst come to pass). Sylvester is less than pleased as Elsa is still under Adam's grasp, in addition to the fact the young teenager just got accustomed to the Tumultite community, but Paul promises to save Elsa and reunite with Sylvester once the revolt is over. A coven of witches sail to the Archipiélagos, Paul gives them Sylvester, and they sail to regroup with their fellow sisters in Montana (eventually leading Sylvester and the coven to Hope County). Sylvester is a fellow coven member for many of her adolescence, and though she deeply misses her former community and family, she becomes accustomed to the witches strange practices, especially when she attempts to fill the absence of a parental figure (that both Adam and Paul left) with the Head Coven Priestess, Lillith. However, as Sylvester grows up, Lillith becomes distant to her for undisclosed reasons before ultimately sending Sylvester away to Eden's Gate in a form of a treaty between the Project and Coven. Sylvester does not handle this well, but she accepts it as she doesn't really have a choice in the matter. Almost a woman now, Sylvester joins Eden's Gate. The reason Joseph takes her in is because the Voice lied about how "she was a gift to him, a second chance to be a father to a daughter" (in truth the Voice would rather have Silva dead, but it wasn't going to fumble the opportunity to have Sylvester under its surveillance and likely manipulation), and well, for Joseph whatever the Voice says must be passed. While Sylvester isn't a fan of Eden's Gate' strict rules and doesn't necessarily feel like she belongs, she gives it a chance, and quickly attaches herself to Joseph when he offered parental affection (thanks to Adam, Paul and now Lillith all giving her up, Sylvester developed abandonment issues here). She likely doesn't develop a strong bond nor interact with John and Jacob (nor Faith!Lana) as much (especially while they're busy establishing the Project). Note that timeline-wise, this is the early years of the Project; likely year one, so Bliss and Faith!Rachel aren't around yet and likely Joseph here would have Sylvester be an unofficial and not yet renamed, "Faith", even if there is a current Faith in the form of Lana. Until Lana is killed to vacate the role for Sylvester... which doesn't end up happening as Sylvester unfortunately witnessed the murder scene happen. Sylvester takes whatever she can and leaves; the Project, the county, the state, everything. Until she gets to a state and county far, far, FAR away from Joseph in a new city with a new life and a new name; that being, Silva.

Joseph is... heartbroken over Sylvester's disappearance, while Jacob and John are worried that wherever she is, she'll report them. The Voice, however, tells Joseph it'll handle this... by influencing the world to coordinate a domino effect that results in an abandoned military mill to activate one ICBM under the city Silva is residing in, resulting in the city to collapse and a lot of casualties and destruction. When news reaches Montana, the Voice confirms that Silva's been dealt with and plays it off as "a sign" the Collapse is coming and uses it to urge Joseph to urge his followers "to prep faster for the Reaping". Years later, Joseph and his family await for his fated arrest, and the "Hell that Follows the Whitehorse". What a shock it is that it turns out to be Silva, who survived the Voice's most heinous assassination attempt yet. Although scarred from the experience of surviving a disaster and crawling her way through the physical representation of hell, she's never been more motivated to go after Joseph, under the (reasonable) belief that it was Joseph who set up her demise, and she is really determined in ensuring Joseph suffers. Anyway, that's the gist of the story. The snippet below is a wounded Silva being cornered by Terry and some other of John's men who recognize who she is. They're about to transport Silva, when two unlikely saviors appear out of nowhere (one being the introduction of Margarett, former kickass Prophet Hunter, and now a very cranky physically-augmented one-armed old woman, while the other is Azriel, who Silva bumped into earlier). Enjoy: [CW: Minor description of graphic violence/gore and nameless Peggie death]

Terry sneered down at her, almost repulsed by her words, even if their newest drug slurred her words strangely.

Silva could not blame his reaction; all he knew was that she, a traitor, had returned to unjustly take Joseph away from them and bring about the Garden's destruction without cause.

For all he knew, she was saying nothing more than baseless accusations, especially with how their drug disallowed her from speaking deceptions. She could not fault him for that.

She could only critique him for his blindness to perpetuating another's misdeeds and other's suffering.

"Call in an envoy so we can take this Sinner back to John," Terry ordered one of his fellow Peggies, "I'm sure he'll be ecstatic about marking our misguided sister with her sins."

Silva observed as one Peggie called into his radio while another passed Terry what seemed to be some kind of dart.

He replaced his revolved with a different type of pistol, and inserted the dart into it. Cocking the hammer back, Terry aimed it at Silva's leg, towards the exposed wound.

And now they'll take me to John. Although it wasn't part of her plan, she had anticipated she'd require to meet the region's herald sooner or later. She wondered if these captures will let her come face-to-face with Joseph again, but she couldn't be certain.

The heralds had their own methods of conversions, it seemed unlikely Joseph would be overseeing everything she'd be in, even with their history.

Huffing, knowing there was only one way to find out, the woman slackened her shoulders as she relaxed, closing her eyes as she awaited for Terry to sedate her.

She heard an unexpectedly loud bang, which immediately alarmed Silva. Opening her eyes, she noted Terry clutching his red-stained hand that had blood profusely bleeding from the hole in his palm. His dart gun had clattered off somewhere else.

The Peggies turned their attention towards the direction where the shot came from. Silva followed their gazes toward the greenhouse they had chased her through, the canister of their peculiar drug still knocked over and releasing the green mist in front of the entrance.

Although obscured, there clearly was a large figure making their way through the mist.

The peggies took aim with their rifles, shouting out to the approaching figure, until four more bullets were fired, hitting their weapons or limbs, disarming them.

Holding a strangely designed pistol, or perhaps a revolver, the figure stepped through the mist unaffected, revealing herself to be an aged woman, if freakishly tall and broad. She had to be at least a head-and-a-half taller than Silva's own biological father. Her grey auburn hair was wrapped into a messy bun, with strands of locks loosened near the forefront of her face.

Her skin was grey and wrinkled, but it was odd, almost unnatural in a way. She narrowed her only eye at the Peggies, lifting her upper chapped lip to compliment her scowl.

Scars adorned her face, large slashes across where her other eye used to be, the skin already healed over the socket. Unlike Silva's dysfunctional eye; although she could barely see through it, the blindspot was obvious, and burn scars similar to Jacob's own adorned that area.

The older woman wore a large ragged cloak over her broad form; concealing what she wore underneath, and most obvious to Silva was how it hid her other arm, to her blissed out confusion. She noted the woman wore dirt covered boots, and that a large staff-like weapon was strapped behind her back.

Her unexpected savior cocked the hammer back as she proceeded to throw it in the air to Silva's direction.

"For your quarter-to-six," her savior gruffly stated, reaching for the staff behind her as a Peggie brought out a bat and ran towards her. She effortlessly dodged the swing, and gave a swift kick to the Peggie's side as she removed the staff from her back and adjusted her grip when another Peggie ran up to her.

Silva's brows furrowed from her strange words, until she heard the resounding footsteps of three other guards of Eden's Gate Greenhouse somewhere behind her.

If we're going by the analogy of a clock, she's twelve, which makes me six, and that means... Silva swiftly spun to her right, and fired the pistol. It hit it's mark in a shocked Peggie's chest, stumbling back with his heart blown out, momentarily stunning his companions from the shock.

She cocked the hammer back to fire again, but only an empty click greeted her when pulling the trigger.

Huffing in annoyance, she took advantage of the Peggies stillness, and ran up to the closest one, despite the pain in her leg. One of the Peggie's, a woman, shook from her shock too late when her forehead met the large barrel, knocking her out cold.

Silva swung for her other companion, but the Peggie had enough senses to dodge the attack, and proceeded to kick her wounded leg.

A flash of pain erupted from her leg and she soon felt the butt of his rifle hit the back of her shoulder.

Crumbling down to the dirt floor, she turned over just for the Peggie's foot to pin her chest down, rifle aimed threateningly at her.

Not risking sudden movements, both Silva and the Peggie turned their attention towards the crowd once they heard an undignified scream.

Her ally had snapped the arm of one of Terry's guards in the wrong angle with an effective kick from her knee, before shoving him aside. Around her was one guard retching and groaning as he cradled his stomach, another whose face was against the wall with smears of red trailing down to her still, kneeling position, and her first attacker with the bat was steadily returning up.

Silva noted the pained groaning of the woman she dispatched earlier, much to her own chagrin at the fact.

Worse yet, the Peggie above her was aiming his rifle as his bigger target began effortlessly blocking the swinging hits of his companion's bat with her staff, waiting for an opening.

Silva tried to struggle underneath him but it didn't deter the Peggie.

Until-

"Hey!" a young voice shouted, breaking both Silva and the Peggie's concentration as they searched for it's owner, "Catch!"

A familiar weapon slid towards Silva; her retractable dagger, the one she lost earlier.

Swiftly swiping it, she stabbed it into the Peggie's Achilles tendon, earning a shout of pain above her before she sliced out of it, causing the Peggie to stumble off her. She didn't let him fall though, not yet, as she lunged forwards, embedding the blade into his stomach, and slashing outwards.

Leaving the Peggie to marvel at his own river of blood and entrails, Silva made her way over to his awaking companion. Just as the woman lifted her head, the last thing she witnessed was Silva's thrusting the blade down onto her forehead.

Silva retracted the blade, letting the corpse fall over. Glancing around, she spotted a familiar face; the child, or rather, the girl she had saved from Eden's Gate grasp, watching her in awe from the side of the admin building. Attaching the retracted dagger onto her belt where it belonged, she gave the girl a quizzical head tilt before a small smile tugged up, a giving the child a nod in gratitude.

The girl's blue eyes shined from the apparent praise and approval.

Silva turned to see how her ally was doing, and saw the older woman had kneed the bat-wielding Peggie in the shin, then the face; once, twice, a third relented his grip of his bat, before finishing him off with a knee to his neck, which left a crunch that made Silva's expression twitch and the Peggie's head in an odd angle.

The Peggie that had been hit in the stomach had gotten over his pain, and made his way to run a sneak attack from behind her ally with a knife.

Silva opened her mouth to warn her, but the Peggie gave himself away when he tried to stab into her heavily cloaked arm; or rather, the blade pierced through the rags and only hit her, which was likely covered in a tough garb underneath the shaggy cloak.

Her ally scrunched how face as she glanced back at whatever force failed to knock into her, only to harden her face with an unimpressed frown upon noting the Peggie.

"Nothing of importance there, I'm afraid," she informed the Peggie as she turned fully around to him.

With a good grip on her staff, she twirled it with one hand and hit him once more in the stomach, which he cradled. Then the knee, sending him to his knees. As he looked up, her ally thwacked him upwards with a spinning hit to the chin, before catching his throat with hooked end of the staff, sending him down to the ground as she pushed her staff further against his Adam's apple, compressing the cartilage.

Silva watched in fascination at the brutality of this woman; the strength she wield, the cunning she used, and the durability she had. Ensuring with all certainty that her enemies were dead. Though, Silva still didn't understand why she had saved her, nor any motives she had...

As the woman choked the life out of the gurgling Peggie, she apparently noticed something worth catching her attention.

"Bleeding Palm's getting away," the woman informed Silva. Cocking her head, she glanced around until she spotted Terry trying to start a van as quietly and quickly as possible, door wide open as he desperately tried to get the engine to sputter to life.

She hummed as the engine revved to life, and she made her way to her ally as she asked, "May I?"

Gesturing to the knife stuck in her protective grab, the woman shrugged as the Peggie below her slackened as he let out a weak noise and replied, "Not mine, so sure. He's not going to be using it."

Nodding she ripped the knife out of her ally just as Terry shut the van's driver door, and hit the peddle.

Silva walked to a spot that gave her clear sight of Terry's booking van, brought two fingers together to pinpoint a target, took aim and threw the blade at one of the van's back wheel's just as it turned, causing it to swerve into a small shed in-between the trees.

With Terry going nowhere, she turned her attention back to her approaching ally, done with the Peggie. Silva had half a mind to have her hand near the handle of her blade, just in case her ally had ulterior motives.

Looking up to the older woman, who she noted could be eight feet tall, maybe with a few inches too. Which made her less than three heads taller than Silva herself.

"Gracias. For the help," Silva stated first, and her ally made a short nod in return, until Silva asked, "Though I do have several queries for you."

Her savior snorted, and grunted, "Name's Margarett."

Straightforward, Silva noted, and responded, "I'm Silva."

"Oh, I know," Margarett informed the younger woman, "Saw your little rally at that little town nearby. Your whole speech of unity and freedom against that family of twats spilling blood in this county. Quite impressive, how you managed to lift the morale of the small folk there."

Silva raised a brow, retaining everything Margarett was saying, suspecting something more.

"You've certainly got talent of a leader," Margarett commented, "They believed every single word. Though if I may inquire; did you? Or is it just a convenient step closer to your actual goal?"

Silva stared into the taller woman's amber eyes, and gave a small smirk as a reply.

The second AU that diverges from the canon and plots of Far Cry 5 and Silva's Hope is what I like to call the Harbinger AU. The story here is that, instead of Ezekiel staying behind to fight off Enforcers while Silva, Elsa and Persephone manage to escape together (and then breaking out of jail to search for the trio of Omars around the world before reuniting with Silva 17 years after the Collapse of society in Old Dusk), Ezekiel escapes with the trio to America. Elsa doesn't die in her accident as Ezekiel is present to do the things she can't; like trying to figure out what's up with Eden's Gate while Silva and Persephone are none the wiser. Also Persephone is alive in this timeline because... well. You see, the divergence doesn't stop with Elsa's death, as during the year Elsa's accident does happen at the Horned Serpent Cave (in the main story at least), instead the incident is Silva going missing while making a grocery trip to Holland Valley, which she'd apparently never reached according to townsfolk Fall's End. Elsa and Ezekiel become the main caretakers of Persephone, and Silva is presumed dead. Paul never visit Hope because he doesn't discover that Silva is present there (therefore not leading him to go there to convince her to join his cult, get rebuked, kidnap her daughter to lure her on a global travel around corners of the globe, leading to Silva reuniting with Kamski, and then eventually leads to Paul, his Apostles and Persephone's deaths in the process). A couple of years later, on the night of Joseph's arrest, there is no deputy to fill the Hell role, despite the Voice promising there should be, leading to Whitehorse and Burke to cuff Joseph while Hudson waits outside and Pratt in the helicopter. Joseph is a little lost on how to consider this but improvises with what he has, interpreting it as either the Sheriff or the Marshal being the Muse. Surprisingly, they manage to lift off without the Peggies getting into the rotor... only for the tail to be blown off and leading to the crash; and Joseph meeting an old face in the form of Saint Matilda, a former Peggie he had exiled from the Project for doing inhumane experiments that even made Jacob cringe. She is one of this AUs primary antagonists (along with her monstrous creation known as the "Harbinger") in addition to the Prophet Hunters (five unique individuals physically augmented by Saint Matilda herself) sent by the Apostles to (a) retrieve the rogue Saint and her newest creation back into their waiting arms and (b) kill two birds with one stone by killing the local rival prophet in the area. Though that's not to say that Eden's Gate won't still be an obstacle in everyone's path, as they're the ones who have Matilda in custody. Elsa and Ezekiel prepare to help the Resistance fight any foe that as to protect Persephone. In the snippet below, you'll see her exile from Eden's Gate through dear beloved John's perspective, as he hears what will be her first of many crimes against nature. Enjoy below:

John joined Jacob and Faith upon the podium as Joseph began the sermon.

"My children, my family... I am pleased that you've gathered together for this morning," Joseph peered across the pews of the awestruck faces of their people, an admiration John also shared for his brother, "Though I wish this was under better circumstances."

That got their faithful's attention, as well as the attention of John and the rest of Joseph's siblings. John briefly wondered if Joseph had received another vision, and waited with bated breath with on the podium behind Joseph.

He found the reason to be more surprising than pressing.

"One of our own had strayed from the Project's mission," Joseph explains, looking solemnly, "She had abused her position and the trust we gave her. To desecrate the bodies of our own people, defile our Judges, and to taint the purity of our Angels."

John raised a brow, and his blue eyes briefly lingered on Faith; wondering if it was finally her time. He certainly wouldn't mind this one going, given how overstayed her welcome was.

Though she didn't look alarmed with worry, and Jacob didn't pay her any mind. To John's disappointment, Joseph unveiled a different name of the culprit.

"You may bring forth Sister Matilda," Joseph commanded in the room, and the doors opened to reveal Alexander and some of his Chosen dragging the white dressed woman to the front of the chapel.

They dropped her in front of Joseph, doing little to be gentle or considerate of their roughness.

The woman in question had been amongst the first members of the flock; not someone John interacted with on a daily notice, but a face he's seen pop up once or twice. He did note how she recently had been working under this iteration of Faith and a short while with Jacob... before his older brother requested, practically ordered, that she stay in Faith's region for reasons John wasn't privy to.

She was young, though not as young as their current Faith; John would say this Matilda was around her twenties. She had lengthy strawberry blonde hair, and greenish hazel in her eyes. Small nose, youthful cheeks, and a small frame to boot. She could have been a candidate to become a "Faith", though given current circumstances, perhaps it was a good thing she wasn't.

She gave small fleeting glances up to Joseph's face, her whole body shaking on her knees. Clearly afraid. Maybe ashamed, John pondered to himself, knowing how it felt to be under the Father's disappointed gaze.

He shook his head though; he made mistakes that he'd made up for. Whatever she has done, seems to be worse; perhaps even unforgivable.

He glanced to Jacob and Faith. His oldest brother seemed cautious while staring at Matilda, almost on edge. His eyes did not stray from Matilda, observing any and all movement. Faith, unsurprisingly, looked shocked at Matilda's presence, though she seemed more curious, like John himself.

Bringing his attention back to Joseph and their stray lamb, Joseph spoke, "Sister Matilda. Do you know why you've been brought here?"

Matilda visibly gulped, the woman petrified where she sat on the floor, giving a shaky and swift nod as her answer.

"F-for going against your-your authority... Father," she stuttered out through quivering lips, surprisingly audible for them all to hear.

"That is one cause for your presence here," Joseph acknowledged, calmly, and proceeded to reveal, "But it is also for your... acts of cruelty against God's creations, and those of whom gave up their doubt and fear to serve the Project. I have been informed you've also developed blueprints on changes to the Bliss' formula to make it more... hostile, towards any who seek solace in it."

Jacob sneered at the woman while Faith let slip an undignified expression before it hardened into a calm disappointment. Though John wanted to feel some satisfaction from Faith's slip of her mask, he was more focused on the fact their most efficient tool thus far had nearly been tampered with by the woman before them.

Staring down at the woman herself made it harder to belief she could have done those; the pitiful girl barely held herself together under Joseph's gaze.

"I... I just," Matilda softly sobbed out once more, trying to speak her words before they were lost to her forever, "I only... wanted to help."

John watched as Joseph tilted his head, quizzical of Matilda's words. Though John found himself uncertain by what Matilda said, he could not deny the pang to his own heart. He noted how Faith's expression softened at her words, and how Jacob stiffened with a frown. Not even the faithful could keep their scowls from faltering.

He couldn't help but feel pity for the woman, and found it terrifying by how easy it was for her to elicit such a reaction on them all. Although...

"And how, dear child, were your actions intended to help us?" Joseph asked, patient.

...her next words swiftly replaced that pity with disgust.

And lastly an Omergaverse AU centered around my Boa Lurking In The Bliss OTP (aka Silva x Faith). Enjoy this flash-forward snippet of Silva and Faith stuck in a bunker together at an inconvenient time:

She should have expected this. It was only inevitable that it would happen.

Being stuck in the same bunker as her was already displeasing enough for Silva. Being stuck in the same bunker while her disgruntled roommate's suffering cries and whimpers reverberate around their underground home?

Well, Silva couldn't deny how bad of an effect it was having on her own composure. She was usually stronger than this...

Once again breathing in slowly, she found herself not rejecting, like she should, the pleasant citrus scent of pineapples and lemons that escaped through the crack of the master bedroom door.

Though the guilt rumbled as she exhaled, knowing she shouldn't be anywhere near the other woman.

And yet, she thought as she placed an unoccupied gloved hand on the door, widening the opening more to glimpse inside, Here I am.

She remembered how neat the master bedroom had looked before it had been claimed by her impromptu bunk-mate. The sheets and blankets had held no wrinkles, the only number of pillows being two, and the floor was spotless, in addition to two nightstands; the right with a lamp, the left empty for anyone's use.

Now the two layer blankets were crumpled, along with extra blankets that her guest had stolen from Silva's bedroom and the linen cupboard, pillows from the lounge scattered around in a circle on the mattress, the lamp on the right nightstand was switched off, the blankets layered on top with a bunch of clothes strewn around the makeshift nest, and the floor from the looks of it.

A desperate attempt to find comfort in an alpha's smell, Silva figured. Or a beta's, intruded the thought, but Silva shook it away. Omegas don't seek out betas during heat, she reminded herself. Only alphas.

Regardless, though, either the light-brunette woman didn't find the scent she was searching for or whatever surviving scents of spice that lingered on those dresses were too faded from time to be a content substitute for the omega.

Overall, a very comfortable looking nest in her opinion, especially given their circumstances. Though the omega's scent was more enticing and stronger now that she entered the room.

Gripping on the handle, Silva stepped deeper inside the room. She needed to be quick about this, she didn't want to overstay.

She made her way to the left side of the nest, being careful to not step on any of the clothes; for her? Sentimentality? Silva didn't know, but it wasn't the point; she needed to reach the nightstand without disturbing the other woman. A quick glance over and she saw her omega "friend" was curled up in the blankets, still in that white dress, groaning in pain while mumbling prayers between hot breathes.

Why am I even trying to be considerate of her? she had to ask herself, Am I forgetting WHO this even is?

No, she hadn't. She knew exactly who the omega woman was. She had spent several months being forced to be acquainted to the woman, her brothers and their Project. She watched as she manipulated the Mariscal to murder Virgil. After all the harm and fallout she's caused, one would think Silva would have learned by now that Faith fucking Seed wasn't worth an ounce of her pity.

Then why am I doing this?

She placed down the kit full of essential first aid, cleaning supplies, a canteen of water, plus containers of foods she hoped Faith liked as much as Irene did. She couldn't find an answer to her question, and honestly didn't know where she could start.

With her task complete, and despite how nice it was in here, she turned to make a swift exit.

But she was stopped by a hand grip on her wrist, forcing Silva to stop.

"What are you doing here?" Faith grunted out, exhausted green eyes narrowed in confusion and suspicion of Silva's presence.

Mierda, she internally cursed. She closed her eyes to collect herself in the sweet aroma filled room, before taking a half glance back at Faith and answering, "I dropped off things you might need. Including some foods and water. To make your heat... bearable."

Faith had glanced to the kit on the nightstand before looking back at her, stunned by Silva's action.

Silva looked away from Faith, the fruitful scent emanating from the Seed sister stronger, and kept her grey eyes back to the open door. She needed to leave.

"I'll leave you to your privacy now-"

"No!" Faith rebuked, her other hand joining the iron grip on Silva's captured wrist, keeping the taller woman in place.

Silva peered back to Faith, a mistake once she was trapped by the desperate green eyes of the omega, "P-please don't go."

Silva felt a pang in her heart by Faith's soft murmur. She shook her ahead, attempting to refute the omega's request, "I can't stay Faith-"

The former deputy could feel how Faith's hands trembled on her arm, a sob croaking out as the young woman asked, "Don't go. Please... Your scent... it's calming. Please stay... don't leave me."

Silva could feel the very moment her self-restraint crumbled to pieces from Faith's words.

She was silent when she turned to face Faith. She was silent when she saw Faith's teary eyes and the desperateness written on her face. And she was silent when let out a soundless huff.

She gave a slow nod. "Okay," she affirmed.

She followed Faith's guidance as the latter pulled the former into her nest, and Silva was quick to accommodate to the nest and Faith's shorter size while the other woman nestled against Silva's body, taking in Silva's calming vanilla scent.

Silva cautiously embraced the other woman, feeling how the heat emanated from her body, and strong her pleasant scent was now that their bodies were so close.

Silva would have preferred if Faith snuggled into her from behind, but even the idea of that didn't sit well for her.

She sighed at her current predicament, bringing a comforting hand to gently run her gloved fingers through the herald's hair, while her other hand rubbed smoothing circles on Faith's back.

God, I'm comforting Faith Seed. She fucking dreaded the idea of Tracey ever hearing of this, or worse, the Sheriff. They'd surely blow a fuse.

She couldn't help but acknowledge a certain irony here. Not only had Joseph correctly predicted a "great fire that would cleanse the surface", but he'd been correct about her. Despite how hard she tried to prove him wrong.

Whether it was an alpha or an omega, with the Resistance or with the Seed's sister here and now, the only use she'd ever have is acting as their confidant, their mediator, their support. Nothing else.

"As is intended of a beta," Silva recalled his words, spoken many months prior. Before the Reaping and before the night of his arrest.

I really shouldn't have gone to that barbecue.

#series: the silver chronicles #far cry 5 #far cry 5 au #vengeful!silva au #oc: silva omar #vengeful!silva #oc: margarett #oc: azriel omar #fc5 terry #harbinger au #oc: saint matilda #joseph seed #john seed #jacob seed #the seed family #the project at eden’s gate #omegaverse #beta!silva #faith seed

16 notes · View notes

simplegenius042 · 1 month ago

Text

Music Monday & Understand My Family in 5 Minutes Template

Tagged (ages ago, according to my drafts) by @imogenkol for the Understand My Family in 5 minutes Template.

Music Monday for The UnTitledverse and Life, Despair & Monsters series and a Understand My Family in 5 Minutes Template for The Silver Chronicles. You can listen, read and find the blank template below the cut:

In my More Than Bargained For? WIP, the main premise isn't just about freeing the souls of the dead children with their happiest day, nor is it just about the reunion between Mario and Charlie, and neither is it just about Lena having fun with her animatronic buddies. Ultimately the main premise surrounds itself around bringing down Fazbear Entertainment, and ending the tragic madness of both William Afton and Henry Emily's feud and legacies. Like there's two-and-three-quarters of arcs to this WIP; first arc is gathering all the animatronics together in one place which, unbeknownst to Lena and her mentor Mike, is under Paragraph 4, though Lena's friendship with the children gives some of them the peace to move on from their animatronic pals. Fair warning, there's also parts in-between some chapters of this arc where she has really weird dreams. The mini arcs come during a timeskip after Lena's fired from Fazbear Entertainment after the fiasco that is being framed by Ennard for the murders of the technicians (Mike's unfortunately been scooped by Ennard); she comes to help Mike put to rest the remaining dangerous animatronics, although is there to save a few that she doesn't believe deserve to be destroyed or were mistakenly caught because they seem to fit the qualities of Paragraph 4 but truly don't. These mini arcs also involve going on a rescue mission down in Hell too (but there ain't enough time to unpack that right now). After those we get to the "Bringing down Fazbear Entertainment permanently" and "more efficient damage control over the remaining legacies of both Afton and Emily". This leads her to espionage the VR games, the Special delivery services, and lastly the Megaplex. In this particular arc, she... discovers familiar faces and remnants of old friends...

youtube

"Well, hello again! Here we go again! Start the show again! You thought it was over, but you know that it will never end It's awful lonely in the code that we've been living in But now you're home, we want to hold you 'til the bitter end So, we got a few bugs, we got a few glitches You know the best hugs always leave a few stitches Pull a few plugs, gotta flip a few switches Built to give love, we just need a few fixes Our arms are open nice and wide, why don't you try us on for size? We'd hate to spoil the surprise Go check the corner for your prize Our favorite game that we've devised is hunt you down each time you hide And now we're right before your eyes We promise not to crawl inside ("We promise not to crawl inside")

You've been away for, oh-so long No games to play when you were gone But now you're here where you belong And we are back together We're going right back to the start When you left, it broke our hearts But if it's you who's torn apart We'll put you back together We'll put you back together."

"Grave is melting away to entropy Beta Tester, please save the rest of me Tapes sequested away are meant to be played Or else they enslave what's left of me In the lines of the binary Recombined as my lifeline's syphoning From the mind I am mining for hiding in Don't be frightened, comply and invite me in."

"Uh, hello, hello? Now you've gotta fix the vents below Simulations are safe, y'know Although, maybe don't trust a telephone."

"Oh, my! What a muddle! It only was a cuddle Now you're long gone, crushed into a puddle Hey, Bon-Bon! Better get a shovel! Really want some love, but I'd snuff you with a snuggle."

"Yar-har-har! We're in VR! You can try to run, but you won't get far You'll begin to wonder why you ever pressed "Start" What you get for plundering a bunch of dead parts, he-he!"

"You may wonder how we stand this hell But I promise you'll adjust to the acrid smell Beta Tester? Or plate of tasters? An attack should include a few snacks as well, ha!"

"Mind if I hop on for a solo Don't you worry, I'm not coming for you during a show tune! Hurry up, you've got a party to go to! You know you're gonna be the star of the show soon!" ("You're gonna be the star of the show soon. Yeah!")

"So long you have been away Oh, won't you promise to stay? Make it our happiest day Now we are back together We're going right back to the start When you left, it broke our hearts But if it's you who's torn apart We'll put you back together We'll put you back together!"

"...My first appearance in Pizzeria Simulator and then again in Ultimate Custom Night And I was hoping for some sort of token appearance in the VR title Now, that didn't happen, sadly And I remember saying to my good friend Orville I said, 'Orville, this is going to be an issue if I want a continued presence within the franchise'. So we went out to get some..."

"Come on, kids! Don't be scared of me! Just a funny bunny! Remember Jeremy? Did you think I wouldn't leave a legacy? Take death? Escape my destiny? Corroding the code of your own autonomy Laugh at the traps you've employed to conquer me Nice headset you've spoiled to come for me All that blood might void the warranty!"

"Another long night And another hall roamed Another song chimes Sends another one home You know it's all lies It's a wonderful show There's nothing inside We're just lovable drones."

"Quite a chain of events you're tangled in In the vents, don't let the Mangle in Back in action, have you been practicing? Just one more toy you've trapped us in."

"So tired, we just wanna sleep But you're determined to keep Finding ways to bring us back from the grave We've been burned, we've been beaten Torn apart, we've been eaten In a loop, here's the scoop You won't ever be saved ("No, you won't ever be saved.")

"We lost our lives to an arcade But now it's us who's being played So step inside, don't be afraid And put us back together We're going right back to the start When you left, it broke our hearts But if it's you who's torn apart We'll put you back together!"

"We'll put you back together!" "We'll put you back together!" "We'll put you back together!" "We'll put you back together!"

More on More Than Bargained For?, Lena's vendetta against Fazbear Entertainment stems from their inherent inability to take responsibility for the disappearances (and deaths) of the missing children (and doing the bare minimum to stop it again), plus their own corruption and greed in covering up their own hand in the tragedies for the sake of milking their brand dry, and their lack of punishment for the injustices for the many employees who died under their watch. Fazbear Entertainment is the greater-scope antagonist of this WIP, with William Afton & the Mimic being the main threats towards Lena and her friends. Lena, after surviving many death traps and being framed for two co-workers' murders and having to say goodbye to her ghostly pals (either voluntarily or involuntarily), has had it with Fazbear Entertainment's ability to weasel back to life time and time again just to repeat the same mistakes and choices of cutting corners and being shit employers. In this arc, Lena goes into espionage with some help to take down the company from the inside-out. However, her troubles come when Glitchtrap catches wind of this, and once being aware that Lena wants to take down his only source of flesh puppets, he decides to take action by taking advantage of Fazbear Entertainment's new "Special Delivery Service" to send Lena (and her girlfriend Cassandra) a very lovely animatronic home invasion.

youtube

"There was a place many years ago Where the children would come for a meal and a show Oh, the horror, in the corner The quartet of terror returns

There's Freddy, and Foxy, and Bonnie, and Chica The band's back together and playing the deep cuts And when the curtain comes to close They'll find you

There is a bear who bears no introduction And a chick who's thick from reconstruction There is a bun who's gunning for the air shaft And a fox who gawks behind an eye-patch

Unserviced servo turning Refurbished fur perturbing It doesn't matter where you go They'll find you

Find the mascots Check your blind spots Put the mask on Turn the lights off

Wind the toy box Check the game clock Shun the dark thoughts It's a long shot

They'll find you They'll find you We will find you Terrorize you And ensnare you In a bear suit."

In Life, Despair & Monsters, there is an Unnamed Poppy Playtime WIP, where there is Playtime Co.'s warehouse from the game, but also an abandoned sister location known as "Rosemary's Trinkets & Collectibles" that was shut down years prior before Playtime Co.'s own closure. In this WIP, the protagonists find that both locations are connected to each other, and find the co-founder of this location and the founder of the sister location, Frederick Rosemary, may not be as dead as originally thought, and has been trying to bust into Playtime Co.'s warehouse to get himself their unique toys for his sick pleasures and devices. Plus to help out his good friend Sir Enigma Malvolio too, doing the dirty work of experiments that Malvolio himself can't be inclined to do himself.

youtube

"We are machine, but in-between We are conscious, full of life Don't think twice, we play it right Built for laughs and grins The show takes its toll on our soul Itching for some way to free Every plea, the lights flee All together, we're complete

Come together now We've got the night all to ourselves Let's show them what we allow Unified, we arrive We know just what to do To prove to them that we're alive

Hide from us, you can't trust The noises coming from the halls You peer in, we break in We can't say if you'll live or die Just come out, leave all doubt For we are real and awake End daytime, it's playtime We are the ultimate fright

We are the ultimate fright

Left underground, quiet sound Heard from every corner We seem to be nice, but she Draws the dark to cave in With her grin, watch her spin Every second counts, for we More than three, always see Altogether we're complete

Come together now We've got the night all to ourselves Let's show them what we allow Unified, we arrive We know just what to do To prove to them that we're alive

We are the ultimate fright!"

And lastly here's my "Understand My Family in 5 Minutes" for Silva and Faith, plus Azriel and Mercy, during Old Dusk (New Dawn arc):

And here's a blank template (with links) to both read above and use below:

Template by @/marissources (ImageFlip made their credits a bit too small).

Here's the download link to download it if you can do what I clearly can't.

#music monday #oc template #series: the untitledverse #wip: more than bargained for?#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #oc: lillian “lena” elliot #series: life despair & monsters #poppy playtime #series: the silver chronicles #far cry 5 #far cry new dawn #otp: boa lurking in the bliss #oc: silva omar #faith seed #oc: azriel omar #oc: mercy omar-seed

13 notes · View notes

the-silver-chronicles · 2 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 22 & 31: "Breeding Kink" & "Aftercare" - For OTP: "Boa Lurking In The Bliss" (Silva Omar x Faith Seed)

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @imogenkol and @josephseedismyfather

Tagging @adelaidedrubman @raresvtm @derelictheretic @inafieldofdaisies @noodlecupcakes @direwombat @voidika @cassietrn @aceghosts @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @g0dspeeed @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins and @florbelles + anyone else who want to join.

Prompt based on this kinktober post made by fellow mutual @starsandskies. While the main Kink of this post is "Breeding" and "Aftercare", you'll find it also includes ones such as "Praise", "Oral", "Biting" and a little bit of "Dirty Talk".

Hey everyone, here's my second and last contribution to Kinktober for this month. Here's a oneshot devoted to the main couple of the Far Cry section of The Silver Chronicles; Silva and Faith as you've probably guessed. From the mature tag and the title you can probably already tell that this oneshot (which will also be uploaded onto my AO3 as well) contains explicitly sexual content meant for 18+ users only. Minors Do Not Interact!

Here's a few warnings as to what this oneshot contains:

CW: Shameless smut, Minor angst, Cunnilingus, slight vaginal fingering, slight teasing, stroking a dick to erection (I don't think a handjob necessarily fits the context because Faith doesn't let Silva cum), P in V sex, unprotected sex, gentle sex, creampie, Silva's kind of unsubtle breeding kink and both women's obvious praise kinks. Includes a lack of contraceptives here (not the fault of either women, Kamski's flaw was that he thought Silva would be like him, miserable and single (neither words correlate nor share a connotation connection with each other here) and also doesn't take into consideration that majority of people don't think like him) and discussions of (getting) pregnancy. Plus the unspeakable horror of including the vaguest hint of a plot in a smut oneshot.

But also enthusiastic consent!

Okay now for the ONLY two Trigger Warnings: Minor reference to past religious and child abuse. These aren't the center focus of the oneshot and aren't explicit either, but these are something that are at the very least inferred (I hope that's the right word) to during Silva's POV thought process in the beginning, but not during the smut itself. I only make these warnings because it's better to be safe than sorry.

You may also notice Faith is a little different (possibly) personality-wise, and I imagine its because of being influenced by certain characters (like say... Sharky and the Drubmans (mostly Adelaide)) and this is set many months post-game and Collapse, and both she and Silva (plus Azriel) have taken shelter in Silva's prepper bunker, so I imagine at this point a certain level of character growth and change has occurred. I’ve also given a short personal explanation in the tags as well.

Author's Final Edit: I've been working on this nonstop for four weeks, at differing states in mind but refused to leave it unfinished, so apologies in advance if it's not that good or even a little rushed (as you can likely tell it's no longer October) than what I originally planned. Anyway gonna post this now and hope for the best.

I'll be sure to reblog this post with the link to the one that'll be posted on my AO3. Anyway, enjoy the fic under the cut:

Title: This Sweet Leisure

Series: The Silver Chronicles (Far Cry 5)

Character/s: Silva Omar (Deputy OC), Faith Seed, Azriel Omar (mentioned OC), Irene Neon (past referenced OC), Persephone Neon (past referenced OC), Elsa Omar (past referenced OC), Kamski Neon (past referenced OC), Tracey Lader (referenced) and Father Adam Omar (Barely referenced OC and thank the Gods, he's super dead).

Words: 7,734

Quiet moments had never been something Silva thought she could afford to enjoy.

She was familiar with various forms of quiet though. Many of which denied her comfort, including peace, or even leisure.

She had experienced a cold kind of quiet throughout her youth. It was tense and foreboding, a wordless warning hanging over their heads like the ill-omen of a guillotine. The only sounds allowed were the roaring winds of a wrathful blizzard outside and the slight clinking of plates and utensils shared between two quivering hermanas.

She had spent many nights as a child in a quiet that was always too quiet. That was the worst kind of quiet for Silva. Dread left her restless, sleep evaded her like the answers she constantly prayed for, haunted by anticipation as she listened for the recognizable signs of Father's approaching footsteps outside her bedroom door...

But the most familiar quiet she's known would be that of loss and mourning. The moments where silence would replace where there should be joyous laughter, or whispered promises, or the normalcy of conversation.

Where she expected a small form to run around the house once she exited her room, her little one's delighted giggles filling the room as her ginger bangs bounced from her enthused race... she found nothing and the heaviness would weigh down on her heart once more.

She would spend periods lamenting on each and every loss, whether it be family, friends, her amor or her beloved hija.

When trapped in this quiet, her mind would betray her... always following the same maze in the labyrinth of her thoughts, with each memory visited and revisited while she punished herself for the grave inescapable sin of not being strong enough, fast enough, doing enough.

Simply put, the quiet moments remind her of how no matter what, she'll never be enough to keep those she cared for. She found no escape through sleep either; her imagination was often the most cruel.

Punished by constant night terrors, which only grew more frequent from there.

Perhaps that is why she enjoyed the action, those fast-paced minutes that squandered on hours. The wars, the fighting, the very act of survival, the violence she despised, justifying her use of it as necessary and right.

The very same violence that took pieces of her until she was nearly hollow from the high. But at least she couldn't feel anything but the emptiness afterwards... distracted from the grief.

What a twist of fate that, at the end of the very collapse of society, all she could have would be quiet moments. For approximately seven years, she would have to live in the very bunker she had dismissed as a paranoid and needless precaution, even for the likes of Silva herself.

In spite of this, she had kept it well-maintained. At least to honor one of Elsa's lasting gifts to her.

And even though Elsa and Persephone were long gone from her life, Silva would be forever grateful of it since it had saved the last two of her most precious remaining loved ones; Faith and Azriel.

It was a rough few months at first, for herself especially, but they made it work. A routine had been set up, tasks given for each of them, and both Faith and Azriel seemed to have put aside their animosity, for the sake of Silva at least.

Silva, though prohibited from putting too much strain on her muscles, had recovered enough to do the laborious tasks that the other two were unable to do, as well as keep track of their inventory, rationing the power and water they were using, keeping track of the days by making calendars (at least enough so they have a fraction of an idea of when they should leave), keeping the only functional clock left out of Azriel's reach, general cooking and proceeding with Azriel's education (and ensuring her pequeño inventora utilizes the parts they don't need for her machinations).

Usually these tasks were completed with the assistance of both Faith and Azriel.

Faith utilized the knowledge she retained from the Eden's Gate to correctly double-check and correspond with the information Silva gave, as well as support a garden from within the bunker that gave them all fresh fruit and vegetables besides the preservatives, aided Silva in Azriel's education with subjects Silva had less expertise in and was the only person in the bunker with any specialization in medicine, besides Silva's apparently redundant strategy of "ignore the problem until it starts affecting you personally" or "only treat problem when close to the nearest convenient bandage, stitches or medic".

(Silva could admit Faith had a point about her reckless behavior).

Azriel's days were mostly spent assisting Silva, or Faith when the girl chose to stop detesting the other woman. She attended her "classes", whether it be academical or practical, so she'd be as prepared as she could be for whatever was outside the bunker doors.

Azriel's hobby in engineering proved to be handy, with Silva and Faith both stumped on the workings of such a subject despite their reliance on the bunker's generator and water filter.

They'd have their meals together, and would often spend time in the same living space once their tasks were done. When it came to nightly routines, Silva would bathe Azriel herself, and would share her own shower with Faith as to not waste water.

Those moments were strictly kept tame, given Azriel's close proximity from the bedroom and the necessity of the water. However, Silva didn't mind, as she and Faith got to be closer, with hands touching the places neither wanted others to see. Their scars were only for them to admire, neither holding shame nor judgement as they took care of each other.

After cleaning off, Silva would put Azriel to bed in one of the spare bedrooms she had claimed for herself as Faith shut off any non-essential power for the night, before both she and Silva retired to their shared designated master bedroom.

That was where the quiet became more prominent.

It wasn't so bad; sometimes one or both of them would be able to drift off. Other times, sleep would evade them, and they just enjoyed each others company, sharing stories and jokes, their voices barely above a whisper. Often they'd talk about the plans for the next day, perhaps wonder about the future... or even confess their own fears, quelling doubts. A peaceful quiet.

There were few nights when these fears took form as nightmares, interrupting their rests. Such nights were spent comforting the other in an understanding silence, few words exchanged while they found warmth in each other's arms. A comforting quiet.

But those night terrors were becoming far and few as the months passed, and Silva found herself cherishing the quiet as much as she did the time spent with her little family.

Though months passed, there was a slight change from the routine, one night where Silva rediscovered a quiet she hadn't experienced in a long while, and would revisit the following weeks.

Although sexual intimacy wasn't a first for either Silva or Faith, after the Collapse, they prioritized the ensured function of the bunker, recovering from their own physical and mental wounds and Azriel's well-being over their passion. It was the practical thing to do in that situation.

However, so much time had passed since the Collapse had occurred, and though the intimacy they did share was cherished and fulfilling, there was a familiar desire that burned patiently; the want to be connected, the need to be closer, to make the other sing with pleasure, and to share their love and affection through one of the few ways they could.

After Silva tucked Azriel in for the night, she had returned to the master bedroom. Shutting the door behind her, she turned to the sight of Faith awaiting her by the foot of their bed.

Silva shared a soft smile with her amor, making her way over to Faith to give a nightly embrace and kiss before bed.

Faith had stopped Silva with a hand on her chest, green eyes looking deeply into grey as the former herald tried to put her desires into words.

"I want you," she said softly, a noticeable shade of light pink across her face with eyes full of a need that stole Silva's breath away, "Tonight. I want you, and I want to make you feel good."

Silva felt a burst of exhilaration invade her body, her nerves lightened up with renewed enthusiasm. The feeling only increased when Faith delicately held one of Silva's hands and brought it to her soft lips.

The kisses she pressed down onto the faded scarred tissue sent tingling signals throughout Silva's body, a pleased sigh escaping her lips as her cheeks darkened into a blush. Faith gauged Silva's reaction, her gaze anticipating her answer and yet pleading all the same, lips brushing against her sensitive hand.

Silva responded with a loving smile, using her spare hand to cup Faith's face, fingers caressing the skin like light kisses as she brought her own face closer.

"Si," Silva had acceded, connecting their lips, feeling the thrum of Faith's enthused hum. When breaking off the kiss, the former deputy stated, "Under one condition."

Faith visibly wet her lips, tilting her head into Silva's palm as she asked, barely above a whisper, "And what would that be?"

Silva smirked, and Faith waited with bated breath on Silva's response (but if she hadn't been so focused on Silva's answer, she'd notice beloved's grey eyes shined with a flicker of silver), bringing her chapped lips to ghost along Faith's ear, and purred, "I'll make you feel bliss first."

Faith broke into a grin, and wrapped her arms around her lover's neck as both of their desires heightened, lips caught in a dance before Silva took the lead.

While their tongues communed and tasted one another, Silva's hands wandered, brushing over Faith's dress and squeezing at certain areas to bring out those small noises she never gets to hear in any other moment.

She settled both her wandering hands at Faith's hip and culo respectively, giving a squeeze on both that elicited a surprised yelp from her amor, though a giggle soon followed after.

Silva retracted from the kiss as her hands reached the hem of Faith's dress, "Let's get this dress off, mi querida."

Faith only nodded as her hands joined Silva's to slip the dress off from over her head rather smoothly, freeing her perky breasts for only Silva's eyes to see. She pressed her hands onto the skin, how good and warm it felt under her touch. Her thumb grazed over a scar just under Faith's rib cage.

Her attention was deterred however by her amor's impatient fingers unbuttoning her shirt.

Silva followed suit, unbuttoning the rest of her dress shirt and shrugging it off. She reached for the strap of her bra behind her, but Faith ceased her struggle when she pressed her hands onto Silva's clothed breasts.

"Arms up, darling," Faith directed, and Silva saw the glimpse of the herald whose reputation commanded fear and respect from her foes. It sent an exhilarating shiver down the former deputy's body, feeling a twitch in her lower body as she followed her amor's orders.

Faith pulled the undergarment over her lover's head, tossing it away. Silva didn't bother to chide about the messiness, figuring it to be a issue she'll deal with tomorrow. In the mean time, she was too preoccupied with giving Faith's greedy hands access to feeling her swell chest up. She let Faith grope at her breasts, hands wandering all over her exposed upper half. Even in the darkness, Faith accurately pinpointed every faded scar there was on this portion of the Omar woman's body.

From her healed cuts and slashes, to the closed scarring from past bullet wounds, to her shoulders; the left harbored old burns, while the right was less clearer, though the texture of the skin was notably a shade lighter, if only slightly.

Silva hummed from the touches she received, massaging Faith's breasts in return. Faith gaped in pleasure, and Silva jumped at the opportunity to reconnect their lips, tongue inserted back in, this time to dominate.

Faith moaned into Silva's mouth, and the reverberation spurred Silva on. Her hands moved to behind Faith, she pulled the other woman's body against hers, their chests colliding. Faith's hands gripped at Silva's back, pushing herself against her lover to chase after the pleasure of grinding their breasts together.

Silva slowly lead Faith backwards to the bed, letting the foot of the bed buckle Faith's legs into sitting down.

Without hesitation, Faith spread her bare legs to give Silva a peek at the lacy white lingerie underwear, embroidered with a familiar pattern, that she had adorned for this occasion. Silva got the impression that her amor had been planning this for some time.

Silva wouldn't disappoint.

Though that pattern did look familiar-

Flowers. Of course, Silva noted in mild amusement.

Faith closed her legs together and dragged her underwear down, shimmying the flower-patterned lingerie down to her ankles, kicking them off to the floor. She opened her legs once more, displaying her nude, bare self for Silva's eyes to feast upon. The sight made Silva's crotch felt uncomfortably restrictive, but she restrained herself from taking her pants off and making love to Faith there and then.

Silva wanted to draw this out; she wanted Faith to feel the greatest heights of this high until she was fully satiated, as well as for herself too.

Caressing her amor's face, Silva's eyes lingered down to Faith's wet folds awaiting her, the light brown bundle of curling hairs layered at the top, and asked, "May I?"

Faith gave an eager and affirming nod, and Silva descended down to her knees until she was face to face with the younger woman's lower lips. Putting her amor's legs over her shoulders, Silva circled two fingers around her labia to stimulate more wetness and gather it onto her fingers, while her other hand's thumb gently brushed against her clit.

She heard Faith's breath hitch above, which made Silva temporarily halt, her eyes meeting green to wordlessly check on her pareja. Faith met her lover's gaze and returned an assuring nod. Silva took a breath and continued to tease her amor's slick pussy and clit, feeling a tug of pride within herself when she heard a soft airy sigh come from above.

Satisfied with the slickness, she inserted one finger inside, earning her a gasp and small moan from Faith. She massaged her index inside the warm insides before inserting a second finger to join the first, curling and gently twisting both as she proceeded to press a bit firmly on Faith's clit with her thumb.

Spurred on by the sounds of Faith's heavier breathing and soft moans, Silva gave a trail of kisses along both of her thighs, perhaps lightly sucking at the flesh to leave a mark or two where no one but both of them would see.

She carefully twisted her two slick-covered closed fingers to face her and opened them up in a V-shape, spreading her amor's vagina.

Silva leaned closer, breathing in her scent. The pungent tangy musk tinted with a hint of earthy sweetness to it. A floral scent really; not like the acrid sweetness of the Bliss though. That had long since been washed away.

Without wasting another moment, she pressed her tongue flat against Faith's vulva, licking it in a glide upwards until she reaches her clit.

Faith tasted like honey, with a hint of sourness that reminded Silva of yogurt. It was something surprising to discover; how different the taste was. She'd expected a metallic taste and bitterness not unlike coffee when she first went down on Faith, as she had remembered Irene's being, and the few women she had brief relations with holding a similar taste, but had been pleasantly unprepared for the flavor.

She continued to lap up the slickness, proceeding to explore with wide licks that swished around the folds of her amor's vulva, enjoying the sweet little noises she drew out and the feeling of Faith's legs shaking over her shoulders.

Silva hadn't expected Faith to cross her legs to pull her mouth closer, but the Omar woman held no complaints. She focused on flexing her tongue deeper inside, licking every nook and cranny.

Silva felt Faith's hand furl into her dark hair to keep the former deputy where she was, grinding herself against her lover's tongue. Silva hummed her appreciation into her amor's pussy, the vibrating sensation provoking a whimper out of Faith.

Feeling her lover's tongue retracting, Faith almost expressed her dissatisfaction with the lack of contact until Silva's lips enveloped around her swelling clit, lightly sucking as her tongue gently circled around it.

Faith choked out a cry as she felt Silva's two fingers re-enter to massage at her sensitive flesh. Lips parted, her moans didn't escape quietly, though it didn't discourage Silva from her relentless efforts to bring about Faith's high.

Silva heard Faith murmur out words incoherently yet consistently (though that may be due to the thighs squeezed around her head canceling out most noises), though was unable to inquire about it as she felt Faith's legs tense around her.

She had enough time to glance her eyes up to see Faith slightly arch her back before she felt the inner walls of her vagina constrict and spasm.

Silva had half-a-mind to have her mouth open when fluid squirted at her face. She lapped up the sweet sticky fluids as Faith rode her high out.

Leaving soft rewarding kisses around her amor's sensitive flesh and thighs, Silva began crawling up to trail her kisses along Faith's waist and stomach. She peppered her breasts, collarbone and neck with special attention, sucking on the skin to leave little marks.

She kissed along her jaw, face and settled on her lips. Face to face, Silva admired the flushed yet blissful expression that resided on her amor.

Breathing returning to a regular intake, Faith opened her green eyes to gaze into Silva's adoring ones.

"You look so beautiful right now amor," Silva complimented, lightly tucking a loose hair behind Faith's ear.

The Seed woman licked her lips, the smile on her face joined by a light blush from the praise. And though Silva meant what she said, she still had the need to confirm.

"Was that good for you, mi querida?" Silva asked softly, searching for any hint of potential discomfort from the young woman below her. Faith blinked at Silva, maybe touched by the concern, maybe in bafflement at the question. Though she proceeded to bring her head up to rest against Silva's own.

"It was wonderful. You ate me out so well my sweetheart," Faith assured with a pleased sigh. She proceeded to bring her lips to the shell of Silva's ear and whisper, "Now why don't you take those pants off? I can't be the only one naked here."

Silva gave an affirmative nod and obliged to Faith's request. Scooting to the side of bed, she pulled down her loose night pants, kicking them off at her ankles. She went to remove her boxers next, but Faith slipped up behind with wandering and electrifying hands that danced across her front.

Faith peppered light kisses along her neck, and softer ones to her old burn scars, which Silva appreciated. One stray hand palmed over the bulge throbbing against her boxers, massaging the member, earning a shameless moan from Silva.

"You're so good to me, Silva. Always accommodating. Putting my needs before yours," Faith revered warmly, massaging the stretching bulge that began to tent up at her boxers, eliciting a low groan from Silva, while Faith stated, "You're so full of love. And I'm happy to be someone you share it with. Which is why I want to make tonight special for you. To give my own love back to you, in the most intimate act together."

Silva bit at her bottom lip as she felt herself get harder at Faith's words, the kind and adoring words flustering the woman. She felt Faith reach into her boxers to pull out her erect cock. Freed from its confines, Silva didn't try to suppress the moan that rose in her throat when her amor curled one hand at the base and began to pump.

Precum leaked from the tip, and Faith brushed a thumb over it, spreading the slickness around the head. She reached down to gently massage at her scrotum to further tease her lover, receiving a choked yelp that morphed pleased groan. Satisfied with her work, Faith tugged at the boxers, with Silva pulling it down the rest of the way.

"Now for what I promised," Faith purred sultry, intertwining her hand with Silva, leading the compliant woman to crawl further onto the queen bed with her.

With both now bare and their hearts beating with a thrill, Faith took initiative, placing a halting hand onto Silva's chest to halt her approach and lightly push her down backwards.

"Can you sit for me?" Faith requested, flashing sweet honest pearls at her, and Silva nodded affirmatively as she followed suit, sitting down with her legs splayed out, her cock proudly pointed up as Silva's eyes traced ever bit of Faith's body.

She swallowed on nothing, wishing she could count the stars to mark a number down of how much she had been so unbelievably lucky to have not only meeting Faith, but get to be with her. And to keep her and Azriel safe, a small relieved voice spoke up, though it didn't last, You never were able to do that with anyone else.

Silva almost frowned at the thought, and briefly closed her eyes. What happened wasn't my fault. I did all I could in those moments, she reminded herself, defending against the guilt, just as Faith coached her.

She opened her eyes when she felt Faith's hands grasp onto her shoulders, her legs at both sides of her hips. Her wet entrance hovering above Silva's leaking head, though Faith paused as she cupped Silva's face into her hands, the next words she spoke sending a spike of pleasure through her veins, "I want you inside me."

Heart fluttering at the proclamation, Silva wanted nothing more than to obey, to be inside her amada and feel how she clenched around her, to murmur little praises into her skin as she just enjoyed having her amor in her arms. However, through the haze of love and lust, she had a realization, "I don't have condoms. I don't think there are any down here."

"Nor birth control," Faith informed her, green eyes gazing down, and Silva wanted to kick herself for not noticing when she did stock checks, "I checked the infirmary; it just wasn't included amongst the stock."

Silva could take a guess why. The infirmary had been an additional room inserted by Kamski himself without her permission. Though she was grateful now for his foresight, she felt an annoyance towards Kamski's paranoia overstocking the infirmary with supplies for illness, injury, surgery and even birth delivery, but was flippant about her chances of finding a new partner that he was he convinced her contraceptives wouldn't be necessary. By Jannah, why did I listen to him?

She brought a hand over one of Faith's own which still had her face cupped, thumb brushing at the knuckles. While Silva certainly wasn't against the idea of unprotected sex, especially if Faith gave her consent, under normal circumstances there would be a world with safety nets to fall back on if they decided to risk it.

However, they were stuck in a bunker, while luckily stocked for more than three people with food, medicine and other resources, it was without the contraceptives to avoid the high-risk results of the act.

She would love nothing more than to make love to Faith, to be inside her, to join her on the brink of their own bliss and just release. However, she knew of Faith's reservations, not to the act itself, but the potential consequences of said act.

Instead, she suggested, "If you really want to do this, I can try the pulling out, which does comes with risk. But we don't have to, we can do something else..."

Silva quieted down when Faith pressed a finger to her lips, shushing wordlessly. Faith smacked her lips together as she gazed at Silva with sincere affection.

"I appreciate that you're thinking of me, but there's no need to fret, my lotus flower," Faith said with a fond smile, running a hand through Silva's long dark hair, her green eyes full of a devotion Silva's doesn't believe she's seen on her before, not even with Joseph, not this intense and self-assured.

"But I made my mind up about this weeks ago," Faith informed her lover, an adoring smile blessing her face, "I want to feel you. And more importantly, I want you to feel good. I know you personally dislike the condoms. Not only that, but I know you'd rather not pull out. And yet you do those... all for me. And I'm flattered. Which is why tonight, I wanted to do this for you. No contraceptives... even if they ideally should have been optional... and no pulling out either. And whatever comes after this... I'm okay with it."

Silva blinked, not expecting this from Faith. Although she wanted nothing more to accept her words at face value, she still had to make sure, "What about what you told me? I thought you didn't want to risk-"

"I know what I had said. It was something I took time to think about too," Faith acknowledged, but her tone changed to something more impassioned, "But... my time spent with you and Azriel has made me reconsider. I know you. I trust you. Of all the people I was lucky to fall for, I'm glad it's with you. Because you won't abandon me. You'll be with me, through it all."

Faith's hands glided down to behind Silva's head and neck, bringing her beloved's face closer to her chest, adjusting Silva so her ear was to the skin.

"You hear that?" Faith asked above, her heartbeat thumping in a swift measured pace, and Silva only nodded, still a little lost until her amor explained, "That's my excitement at the thought of us giving in for tonight. Of us quivering and trembling in ecstasy, on the toe-curling edge until I milk you dry. That's what I want, but most importantly, I know that's what you want to do."

Silva felt herself burning up; from her head being in Faith's bosom? The lewd description she'd never expect Faith to use (Had she rubbed off on her somehow? The Drubmans and Sharky? Or had she always had this side of her? came the discord of thoughts) until this occasion? Or the admission that she not only knew of Silva's concealed desires, but wishes for her to act on them too?? Perhaps it was a combination, but Silva wasn't entirely sure.

Silva lifted her face to look into Faith's unabashed green eyes, finding no hint of doubt in those beautiful orbs.

"I want this. You want this. And we won't be unprepared," Faith assured, nuzzling her head into the nook of Silva's neck, hands residing at her back, "We have an abundance of supplies with everything needed for a full-term pregnancy, and the infirmary is ridiculously prepared with instructions and instruments ready for when the day comes. I know this is selfish... but I want to make something beautiful with you. To carry the culmination of our love within me. No more holding yourself back... take a leap, love. Put yourself first for once."

Silva chewed at her bottom lip as she felt her cock grow stiffer at the idea of succumbing to her base desires, and to join Faith through a union of their raw bodies, rutting into the warmth of Faith's inner walls until she released herself into her amada's womb, until she was sure Faith was pregnant.

Faith got her attention with a small kiss on the lips, green eyes staring straight into Silva's souls as she said her next words with utmost seriousness.

"I know how I sound, saying all these things to you, but here and now, I want you to understand that ultimately... it's your call, my lotus flower. If you don't want to risk it, I'll respect your decision. You're not obligated to do this, not even for me. I can do something else to have you reach your own high if you'd prefer," Faith offered, one hand reaching down to Silva's hard cock, stroking at the shaft, earning a pleased trill, "If you want to proceed, you already know I'm all for it. If you don't, I'll be happy with whatever decision you make. It's up to you."

Silva was grateful that Faith was willing to wait for her consent. She took the opportunity to think about it. She found Faith's points to be valid; they had an infirmary with information and instruments at the ready, the bunker was well-supplied, Silva has the experience to take care of Faith and their not-yet conceived child, she knows Azriel would be thrilled for a sibling and she had Faith's approval. Hell, she wanted to do it.

I want to do it, Silva realized, an anxious energy buzzing within her, I want to have a child with her.

Silva met Faith's gaze once more. Her bright grey eyes scanned Faith's green, and her hands moved up to rest on her amor's waist as she said, "I want to do it."

Faith's eyes blew open, delight filling her face, "Really? You mean it?"

Silva gave Faith a smirk that sent a shiver of exhilaration up the other woman's spine, "Si. Now mi amor, how do you like the sound of me cumming into you tonight?"

Faith's only response was a resounding, "Yes."

With a gentle tap from Silva, Faith proceeded to lower herself until her entrance met Silva's tip, grinding their sex together, the sensation causing Silva to gasp agape while Faith husked out a wanton groan.

Silva couldn't deny her own heart's elation at the feeling of Faith's slickness making contact with her own precum, mixing and leaking down her shaft.

Faith sunk until she enveloped the head of Silva's cock. The former deputy groaned at the sensation of Faith adjusting to her, her walls stretching and clenching around her. Faith masked her own moan as a pleased hum, hand bringing Silva's head to her collarbone.

Silva planted more kisses and small bites to decorate her skin as she delicately maneuvered Faith past her cock's head and down the shaft. Her amada rocked tenderly, rasping out breathy, needy moans as Silva's cock stretched her pussy.

Both women's breath hitched when Faith reached the base of Silva's cock, the latter once again adjusting to the former. For Faith, it felt warmer, and she felt fuller with Silva inside compared to when she wore the condom. Silva could feel her amor's slickness and heat, how she pulsed within her, how wonderful it felt to have Faith's walls clenched around Silva. It felt right.

Both held each other close, until Silva's knees rose up until they were behind Faith's back. She grabbed hold of her amor's legs, gaze bor into her green orbs, a determined look not unlike what Faith saw during the Reaping gracing Silva's features.

"Are you ready?" Silva asked one last time, giving Faith the chance to back out. Faith gave a thrilled, "Yes", her green eyes begging for more. Silva proceeded to ask, "You remember what word to use if things get too much for you?"

Faith nodded once more, recounting, "Tulip."

Silva gave a confirming nod, "That's right. Buena chica. Now stretch out your legs and lay back for me, mi amor."

Faith did as instructed, stretching her legs out and, with Silva's guidance, she locked them around Silva's waist. Faith proceeded to lean back onto the support of Silva's thighs.

Silva hooked one hand under Faith's culo, giving it a teasing squeeze as she leaned forward to bring her other arm around Faith's back. The former herald hooked one hand at the nape of Silva's neck while her other gave herself some support from behind, grasping onto Silva's leg to anchor herself.

She gave Silva an affirming nod to go ahead, and Silva tested the waters with a small thrust with a rock of her hips. Faith gasped out a lewd noise, and with another thrust, she let out a pleased hum at the contact, and as Silva thrust again and again at a steady pace, Faith began to pant out long, wanton moans while Silva breathed out grunts and husked out her own impassioned moans.

Silva continued to thrust into Faith as her amada continued meeting her thrusts with enthusiastic rocks, the wet sound of skin slapping against each other all that filled the room.

"You feel so good," Silva murmured in a drawl, and as she rocked her hips up into Faith's slick velvet walls, she let out a surprising growl, "Mierda, you're coño's perfect for me, Faith. I need to fill you up... I need to get you pregnant."

Faith let out an enthused titter, her gut recoiling with warmth like the hammer of a gun, and she teased, "Yeah? Is that what you're going to do, my lotus flower? Rut into my bare, unprotected pussy raw until you cum? Spill all your seed into my empty womb until I'm all nice and full? That's fucking hot. You're so sexy whenever you speak your mind. Gets me really wet."

Faith gasped as she felt Silva's thrusts quicken in pace, causing her body to rock from the jerky movement. Though Faith was not displeased by the change as her content moans and her sweet gaping features indicated.

Images flashed within Silva's mind while her sharp eyes lingered on Faith; the flat of her stomach swollen with life for Silva to cherish both with the hold of one hand. Her bouncing breasts full of milk, perhaps more swell and more sensitive than before. Silva was also fascinated by what Faith's stretch marks would look like, during and after the pregnancy, the beautiful markings long-lasting evidence of their joyous union. She remembered only briefly being able to admire Irene's post-birth marks a few days after Persephone was born.

Silva could feel herself reaching her end, she knew in the way her breathing grew strained, and her cock became stiffer and hotter. It was a familiar sensation, but here it was special, as nothing was stopping her from filling Faith up fully now.

"Faith, look at me, querida," Silva drew Faith's green eyes to retain direct contact with her grey, "That's good, mi amor. I'm glad to see your beautiful face. This is a moment in our bond I want to last. I'm close. I'm so close now. I'm going to cum inside you. And I'm going to get you pregnant. I want to hear you tell me you want it. I need to hear it."

So close to coming undone, Faith refrained from breaking their shared contact as she husked out, "I want this. I want to feel you cum inside me. I want to be full with your seed. I want to be pregnant with your child. I want all of you, Silva."

Silva felt herself tighten and her resolve to hold on break. With little strength, she wrapped her arms around Faith as her amada tightened her legs around Silva's waist, both pulled their sweaty bodies close to each other. Both clung to one another as the only lifeline, as Silva gave one last rock of her hips and their sexes spasm.

Faith's walls constricted and clamped around her cock in a creamy coat and milk up all that she unloaded inside. Faith wailed out a moan while Silva shouted in ecstasy. She gave a sparse few weaker thrusts, and felt Faith's walls throb followed by her amor cumming once more.

Both refrained from separating, catching their breaths within each other's arms, fingers playing with hair, breasts pressed against each other from each heave of their chests, basking in each other's mind-buzzing afterglow.

The embrace lasted until Silva lightly pressed a kiss on Faith's soft lips before she removed herself out of Faith, her member deflating and spent for the night. She laid Faith down on the blanket of the bed, who was recovering from the intense pleasure she experienced twice. With limbs still interlocked, she laid beside Faith's prone form.

"Thank you," Silva told Faith, the latter humming in question, dreariness weighing on her half-lidded eyes, so Silva elaborated, "For this. For letting me hold you, and kiss you, and taste you, and... make love. You made me feel so good. Tonight was just perfect."

Faith giggled, green eyes gazing into Silva's grey with adoration, "Of course, honey. You did amazingly too. I noticed you had a lot more enthused determination. Not that you hadn't before but... there was a more primal feel. I liked it."

Silva felt her face heat up from Faith's appraisal, feeling her cock twitch. It hadn't gone unnoticed by her amor; Faith bit at her bottom lip as she commented, "And with our new goal, we'll be doing this again for the next few nights, I'd hope."

Silva felt an excitement burn at the thought of doing this again, though it reminded her of some things she should do to help.

"I'll need to go get a new blanket from the linen cupboard since..." Silva trailed off as she looked at the damp spot, "...yeah. But in the meantime, we should have your pelvis raised a little higher to increase the chances of conception."

Silva couldn't recall where she gained that information from; whether it had been something Kamski had somehow brought up in conversation for whatever reason or something she had learned while reading for any information from the old medical textbooks they could scavenge to help Irene during her pregnancy with her firstborn.

Regardless, Silva grasped a pillow and placed it underneath Faith's lower back, to raise her hips slightly above. Satisfied, Silva asked, "While I'm out, is there anything you need? Snacks? Water? A cloth to clean up?"

Faith shook her head, but made a small grunt as she tried to clear her coarse throat, "Water, please."

Silva gave a smile, caressing her amada's face before getting off the bed, "I'll be back in a jiff, mi amor."

Silva peeked out of the room, searching for any signs of the familiar orange-streak across the dark hair of her hija, hoping she was still asleep in her bed and not awoken by the noise, even if their rooms were fairly dense.

Spotting no signs of her fellow night owl, Silva exited the room, and made her way to the linen cupboard for the new blanket, and then dashed to the kitchen to get Faith's water.

With the glass filled and blanket over her shoulder, she made haste back to the master bedroom.

Closing the door behind her, she made her way back to Faith back on the bed. She placed the blanket down by the foot of the bed while taking the chance to admire her nude form. Though she noticed how Faith's hand was placed below her stomach, lost in thought.

Silva got onto the bed with a creak, breaking her amor's attention train of though and bringing her attention back to her.

Offering a smile, Silva didn't immediately inquire, instead tapping the glass of water, which earned her a soft gaze of appreciation.

She helped Faith lean up from the bed, and passed the glass of water to her. Once her amor's throat was satisfied, Silva had Faith temporarily hop off the bed so she could remove the ruined blanket (which she placed by the door for tomorrow) and laid down the newer, softer blanket.

Once the bed was ready, both Silva and Faith crawled back onto the bed, huddling close. Neither put back on their nightwear.

Silva brushed her fingers through Faith's light brown hair with enthusiasm and adoration in her heart. Faith snuggled into the crook of her neck, one finger tracing aimlessly at Silva's back.

"Are you alright, amor?" Silva asked softly, concern rearing its head once more, though she had a fraction of an idea of what Faith would be thinking about.

Faith glanced her green eyes up at her, briefly holding contact before she nodded.

"Just thinking?" Silva pried gently, observing how her face made those little quirks, subtle twitches, halting furrows and the way her lips open partially before closing again.

Faith responded with a small and affirming hum. The vibration's contact against her skin, although short, eased her hammering heart.

"Want to talk about it?" She finally asked, swallowing any remaining nerves as she discerned Faith's expression towards the question. Does she have any regrets? came the question she was worried for the answer of.

Faith hadn't replied immediately, stewing in the silence as she gathered her words, and said, "I'm just... coming to terms with this. Wondering... maybe a little worried. I've made quite the spontaneous decision, no different than what I've done before."

From the top of her head, Silva could only recall three that she could be referring to; leaving home with Tracey, joining Eden's Gate and helping Silva and Azriel in their goals.

"Are you having... regrets?" Silva asked hesitantly, but knew it was important.

She was a little surprised when Faith snorted incredulously at it.

"No... not that at all. It's a choice I'm not backing down from," she answered fully looking up to her, bringing one hand to cup the side of Silva's face with tender affection, slowly nuzzling their foreheads together, "I'm just a little nervous is all. This is a new and rather big step I would never have considered in my life before meeting you and Azriel. But it is something I want to experience, as long as you're with me."

Relief flooded Silva's mind, washing away any lingering presence of the ugly guilt that tried to form.

"Besides, I liked tonight as much as you did. And I loved how you were too," Faith said as she "walked" two fingers all the way up Silva's chest to her lips, seductively brushing both over her lover's bottom lip as she leaned forward with a whisper, "And I'd hope to see more of that side of you last a few rounds in the night to come."

Silva joined her lips with her amor's, an unbridled smile curving up once again. I've been doing that a lot more recently, she noted, in spite of the sorrow she still feels for the loss of the world above.

Though that's not something she'd focus on as of now. She had better priorities she needed to attend to.

Disconnecting their lips, Silva replied, "I'll let you hold me to those words. In the meantime... want to just snuggle until sleep takes us?"

"Yeah," Faith snickered, eyes drooping lower as she cuddled closer into Silva, "I won't refuse such an offer like that."

Silva wrapped her arms further around Faith, as she just cherished this moment of holding onto her amada diente de león.

Faith dozed off first, and though Silva was not far behind her, within the dark of their room, she whispered into Faith's hair, "We're going to be okay. I promise, mi amor."

With nothing else to say until tomorrow, she let out a content sigh as she dragged the soft blanket over their exposed bodies, and sunk into Faith's slumbering embrace. Finally finding a quiet to look forward to.

[A/n] Finally it's over. I can move on to the tag stuff I've missed.

[Skit #1: Faith: "How might Azriel take the news of a possible new sibling?" Silva: "I wouldn't worry about it. She'd probably be more thrilled at finally being taller than someone for once."]

[Skit #2: Kamski: "Alright I've installed a functioning infirmary into your doomsday bunker in the scenario we'd have to bunk together during a disaster." Silva: "...Not thrilled but ok." Kamski: "It's prepared for injuries, illnesses, surgeries and any pregnancies in the unlikely case we have others bunk with us." Silva: "That sounds good and all, but what about contraceptives?" Kamski: "Don't be ridiculous Silva... no one's stupid enough to fuck in a bunker during a disaster and neither of us are getting lucky enought to change our single status any time soon." Silva: "Hurtful but sounds legit." Years later... Silva: "Once I die, Kamski when I get my hands on you, you motherfu-"]

#series: the silver chronicles #fic: this sweet leisure #far cry 5 #far cry new dawn #kinktober 2024 #oc: silva omar #faith seed #otp: boa lurking in the bliss #oc: azriel omar #reiterating from my last smut post I'm not the biggest smut writer #not my best writing either as this was a four week project i've been working on and at varying points of capacity to mentally process shit #so a lot of this may be rubbish or even ooc (even for my tastes)#post-fc5 but pre-fcnd #post-collapse but within the bunker years #not much to say other than silva's got an ungodly level of self-control over her breeding kink if she was willing to have one kid with fait #(not excluding azriel here but she's adopted by silva while mercy was conceived between silva and faith as you potentially witnessed)#also yes I am aware of faith’s canon… opinion (is putting it lightly it was detestment) on babies #I even vaguely inferred to it and her probable views on her own thoughts on the idea of getting pregnant here #so I’ve attempted to go around that and say “love makes you do things you normally wouldn’t for your partner”#and “missing a fic’s worth lot of background context for this oneshot” because that’s the only solution I could think of #I really was just banging my head on my desk before I said “fuck it”#and straight up went “she loves and trusts silva that much at this point that she was willing to reflect on her prev views #and take a leap of faith towards something big new and kind of scary but with someone she knew wouldn’t let her down nor do it alone”#the major themes of this series is “love” and “change” so I guess that checks out

10 notes · View notes

simplegenius042 · 5 months ago

Text

OC Inspiration Game

Tagged by @imogenkol

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @noodlecupcakes @voidika @skoll-sun-eater @josephseedismyfather @aceghosts @inafieldofdaisies @icecutioner @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @shellibisshe @direwombat @strangefable @rhettsabbott @josephslittledeputy @cloudofbutterflies92 @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @raresvtm @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @titiagls @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @thesingularityseries @nightwingshero and @lulu2992 + anyone else who'd like to join.

Decided to do 10 OCs; five for my protagonists, and another five for my antagonists. You can find them under the cut:

rules: share your oc and two characters from other media that influenced them the most

JOAQUIN COBALT (THE UNTITLEDVERSE)

Will Byers (Stranger Things) | Viktor Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy)

ZACHARIAH THE ORCHESTRATOR (THE UNTITLEDVERSE)

Khan Makyr (DOOM: Eternal) | Odin (God Of War: Ragnarok)

SILVA OMAR (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [FAR CRY 5 & FAR CRY NEW DAWN])

Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn Nine-Nine) | Beatrix "the Bride" Kiddo (Kill Bill) | Julie Canaro (Superfast!)

PAUL YELLOWJACK (VARIOUS)

Pagan Min (Far Cry 4) | The Elktaur (Centaurworld)

HAOYU ANABUKI (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS)

Raine Whispers (The Owl House) | Aang (Avatar The Last Airbender (2005))

SIR ENIGMA MALVOLIO (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS & THE UNTITLEDVERSE [RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2])

Hugo Strange (Gotham) | Kenjaku (Jujutsu Kaisen)

MARISSA "RESS" BISHOP (A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE [FALLOUT])

Valeria Garza (Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 (2022)) | Satoru Gojo (Jujutsu Kaisen)

ARCANE URIAS (A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE [FALLOUT])

Toji Fushiguro (Jujutsu Kaisen) | Proximus Caesar (Kingdom Of The Planet Of The Apes)

AZRIEL OMAR (VARIOUS)

Jinx (Arcane: League Of Legends) | Ellie Williams (The Last Of Us (2023)) | Izabella (Transformers: The Last Knight)

AGGRAVOR THE ACCURSED (VARIOUS)

Mahito (Jujutsu Kaisen) | Koba (Planet Of The Apes Trilogy)

5 notes · View notes

simplegenius042 · 3 months ago

Text

WIP Wednesday, My OC's As A Color Quiz & Meet My Character

Tagged by @spookyrares

Tagging @derelictheretic @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @imogenkol @noodlecupcakes @direwombat @voidika @cassietrn @adelaidedrubman @aceghosts @josephseedismyfather @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @minilev @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @g0dspeeed @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @softtidesworld @florbelles and @yokobai

WIPs for Life, Despair & Monsters and The Silver Chronicles, this Quiz for the Wings And Horns main cast, and lastly Meet My OC template for two OCs from A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. As you can probably guess, this post does have NSFW content in it. You can read the WIPs, quiz results and find the template below the cut:

First WIP is for my The Invitation WIP (AU?) called An Invite To Wine And Dine. This is either a flashback or a prologue, where Evie Jackson officially meets one peculiar Sir Enigma Malvolio. Or what I'd like to call; five minutes of semi-normalcy before the Horrors(TM) struck. Only warning here is my unfunny running gag, take a gander of what it is:

With her shift over, Evie gave a swift goodbye to Grace and made her way out of the building. She's certain Grace knew something was up, but thankfully gave her some space.

Evie appreciated it.

Out the door and in the afternoon sun, the waitress tried to keep composure over the rising grief that choked at her throat. Her breathing stuttered as she wiped at her eyes in a futile attempt to stop the tears from dropping down.

Crying outside her workplace wasn't what she wanted to do today, but her sorrow seemed to disagree. Sniffling, she turned to make haste back to her apartment, only to be stopped by a voice she'd recently gotten acquainted with.

"Jolly Ho, Ms Jackson!" Mr. Malvolio greeted from behind her. Evie turned around as soon as she had been addressed by the man.

He was leaning his shoulder against a pillar, his rounded handle cane acting as extra support. Or maybe it was for show, she couldn't be sure.

Facing him, she could see he was wearing the same dark blue tuxedo suit he had been wearing the night prior. Now in the sunlight and not in the dim-lighted event, she could could see that his hair was indeed dark, as well as his eyes. And now that they face-to-face, she was surprised by the confirmation that, yes; Mr. Malvolio was, in fact, a head or so shorter than Evie herself.

He grinned with a friendly and overly excited demeanor, though slightly better than a lecherous gaze, it was still oddly off-putting to Evie. She took note that he was older than her; late 30s at the least, maybe forties though.

Even so, she acknowledged his presence with a surprised, "Mr. Malvolio?"

"Please, Ms Jackson, call me Sir- oh," Malvolio paused, grin gone and lips thinned as his eyes narrowed, inspecting her face, "Uh, um, not to alarm you dear, but, hmm, your face seems a little... wet?"

Despite his clumsy observation, Evie swiftly wiped at her face, and not wanting to share her troubles with a stranger, quickly said, "Oh, uh, that's nothing."

Mr. Malvolio pursed his lips, scrutinizing her features, "Are you certain Ms Jackson?"

"Yeah," Evie lied, smacking her lips together, "I just had some tap water spray at me. Didn't have time to dry it off when my shift ended."

To her surprise, Mr. Malvolio didn't question her shitty story, and instead seemed to believe her, "Is that why you're in such a rush? I must warn you dear, with that much haste, you might trip over your legs, and the pavement's quite concrete," Mr. Malvolio gave a small chortle as he added, "Scrapes and bruises wouldn't do so well on your fine skin."

Evie, in spite of being confused on whether that was a sort of jab or some weird form of compliment from the man, gave a half-hearted laugh back, ignoring his words in favor of the burning question, "Uh, Mr. Malvolio, sorry to pry but hadn't you said you'd be making your way back home?"

"Eh, we missed the plane," Mr. Malvolio answered, chuckling humorlessly, "Honestly, American airports are the worst. So Denise and I will be extending our stay for a little while longer in good old New York."

Mr. Malvolio gestured far back behind him, and Evie spotted his bodyguard, adorning a black and red suit contrasting her employer's, watching them from under the shade of a cafe umbrella, the dark-tinted sunglasses still covering her eyes.

That makes some sense, Evie thought, but wondered, But why are you here?

As if reading her mind, Mr. Malvolio added, "And I wanted to personally thank you for such a delightful evening. As well as saving Denise from her nut allergy. She may not look like it... nor will she ever admit it... but deep down she is grateful, as am I."

Evie took another glance at Denise, and even from their far distance, she could tell the only expression she could read on Denise's face was one of apathy.

Regardless though, she smiled in thanks of Mr. Malvolio's gratitude, which seemed so sincere. Maybe he was merely giving platitudes to pat himself on the back, or uphold a reputation. But she cherished what she could.

"That's rather kind of you Mr. Malvolio," Evie stuttered out, feeling like a damn that was cracking, ready to burst. Grace was right, she realised, Maybe my self-esteem's needed a boost from kindness for some time now.

"Please Ms Jackson, it's Sir En-," he pauses, face scrunched and unreadable, as he quizzically asks, "Uh, Ms Jackson, are you certain a tap is the cause of those tears?"

Evie wiped again once more at her face, though she stopped when Mr. Malvolio offered a handkerchief.

She accepted it, bringing the clean cloth to dry her face of the tears. Mr. Malvolio observed her with curiosity, and she absentmindedly wondered if he had never seen a person cry before.

With a small thanks she handed the handkerchief back, which he surprisingly accepted back into his breast pocket. He gave what she assumed to be a comforting smile. She opened her mouth to say something- perhaps an apology, maybe a hasty goodbye- but could not bring the words out when he asked with surprising gentleness, "What terrible loss has afflicted you to bring forth such sadness, my dear?"

Evie hesitated, a moment long enough for her to consider whether telling this man; practically a stranger, about the woes that drown her. One glance to his mature face marked her answer though.

With a shaky breath, Evie revealed to who would be the second person this month of her troubles.

"My mother recently passed away," she told Mr. Malvolio, whose very expression shifted from gentle to unreadable once more.

Here's more of my FC5 Bloodborne AU WIP, where werewolves are involved in Hope County and not in the usual fun way, no these things legitimately massacre people and are beyond complex thought comprehension. Paul and Silva established the Hunters who go on annual nightly hunts to downsize the werewolf population with Eden's Gate help... which has lasted for almost ten years now so you can guess how well that's doing. Also, Faith is a Vicar because Paul's previous one, Obadiah Teal, turned into a big scary werewolf (that breathed fire) [Originally this vicar was named Laurence as reference to Bloodborne but ultimately found a character of my own from Paul's lore to play the part. Obadiah was Paul's lover back on the Archipelagos in The Silver Chronicles but here he's a lost lenore (and future boss fight) in this AU. Apologies for any confusion]. Witness Vicar Faith as she prepares herself for an evening Paul vaguely bothered to warn her about while doing some introspection, and how she yearns for Silva's words of assurances... and, uh, ahem, touch. CW: Minor reference to past suicidal idealization (because Faith), minor mentions of past drug-use (because Faith), maybe two descriptions implying lack of self-care, sexual themes, and, eh, explicit horniness? But it's like a sad longing for intimacy??? I tried my best at keeping it consistent. Anyway, read below:

Green mirrored green, a pair of eyes gazing into the same reflected pair of eyes. Lifeless. Dull. Like her Angels had once been before the Bliss became what it is today.

Faith scrutinized the petite figure before her; in nothing but her undergarments, light brown hair flowing freely over her shoulder, the jewelry and veil she would adorn on herself laid unattended on the vanity, holding close the white shawls and garb that made up her image, which seemed so ragged now. Of age and constant use? Perhaps. Perhaps not.

Though, thankfully, her clothes condition were not as dire as the hand-me-down dress Joseph once gifted her, for what little time she owned it.

She wondered what had happened to it. She must have given it back to her brothers at some point, when it became clear she'd have no use to it. Had Joseph kept it, stored it away for safe keeping until the day he believed she'd return from this role? Was it collecting dust in some closet, discarded and forgotten, out of sight and out of mind? Like them? Or how she was now?

Had it been given to someone else? erupted a vile thought, Someone newer, younger and prettier?

When had been the last time her brothers had even visited her.

"When had been the last time he visited you, nuora?" Paul had softly, wearily asked her out of the blue once, as they stood side by side watching her brothers leave from the monastery's window after their last meeting.

Meetings of which were becoming thinner and thinner between duration. Enough time to greet, discuss progress of plans, then leave for weeks and months on end. Never enough to simply sit down and catch up on lost time.

Faith had given Paul a response full of puzzlement, one only meant to acknowledge the surface level of his question. One meant to evade a true answer. She couldn't remember what exactly it was though. Something along the lines of "what do you mean?" or "but we just did, silly?" or whatever mask she had to hide behind.

But she had found it to be all for naught, for it was naive of her to believe that Paul, of all the people she's met, would fall for such cheap tricks. And yet, he cared enough to rephrase his question, "When was the last time he visited just for you?"

Faith hadn't given an answer then. She couldn't find one now.

She huffed, and began to dress, slipping on the garb and shawls that made up Vicar outfit. Clothing of which felt so familiar to her body, as it had been amongst the most common clothes she's worn for nearly seven years now. The sleeves hugged her arms just as the garb fit her frame.

She decided to tighten the Vicar's loose attire last, focused on the jewelry and veil next. She pinned the jewels and gems along the hem of her shawls, the brooches strewn above her chest, and finally the pendant necklace, the most important piece of a Vicar, around her neck. Something that she would usually do instead of Faith.

From close behind her, long and strong arms would snake around to the front of her, to bring the cold touch of the pendant against the warmth of her exposed collarbone's skin.

It was not only the pendent that her Hunter would assist her in, but the laces behind the Vicar's back. Though, Faith mused, my adoring Silva would often struggle to keep on task in favor of more... pleasurable distractions.

Faith's lips curved up into a small smile, the Vicar gazing into the mirror of her not-yet-tightened and loose clothing. She felt an ache within her, and closed her eyes. Not to neglect her duties, but to... indulge, especially before tonight comes.

"You're a Vicar now, after all," Silva had once told her in their very room, sultry voice dripping with barely restrained desire, months after her inauguration and setting up this routine with this... new teasing and exciting tension between them. The ghost of her breath trailed along Faith's exposed neck, like little kisses, causing goosebumps to ripple along the skin. Silva's lips were close enough that it wouldn't take much distance for her to press down on her flesh.

She remembered how bated her breath was, the blood running across her cheeks. Silva must have noticed the red, as she seemed more enamored from the mirror's reflection. Hands on Faith's shoulders, Silva's lips whispered into the shell of her ear, "Here, as our Vicar, you can do as you please. And the Old Hunters will obey. Obadiah forgot that. So have the recruits. But a first hunter, like myself, has not, and will not. We are not meant to restrain our own nature. As long we do not shirk our duties in favor of overindulgence..."

Faith shivered in pleasure as Silva's lips grazed her skin, kissing along her jaw and cheek. Faith sighed, pleased by the contact. She turned her head to face Silva. Her hair was dark and skin were darker than hers, and so were her clothes. Vibrant green orbs gazed into the shining silver of the Chief Hunter's protege. Silva was Enlightened, just like her father.

"...Then we will be able to share our passions without incident," Silva stated, staring into Faith's eyes, slowly closing in

In those eyes were a beckoning; a need for something human to anchor her to this Earthly plane. A Hunter who wanted a Vicar. She, the necessary violence that bordered on the line between primal darkness and humanity whose insight of the world's darkest shades far exceeded Joseph's own... and her, the Monastery's only guiding light that gave promises of hope for seeing the next dawn, knowing yet clueless all the same, in contrast to Silva's sight.

They couldn't be so different from each other. So much contrast that the idea of any sort of union should baffle Faith.

And yet...

Faith gave one glance to Silva's tempting lips, and accepted the invite, crashing her own against the Hunter's. The latter recovered quickly, and pushed all her passion, all her want, all her needs into this one connection. Faith had hummed delightfully, and gasped when Silva's teeth bit down on her bottom lip teasingly.

Shamefully, or maybe shamelessly, she had moaned, which only encouraged Silva's endeavor. Faith, struck with the need to touch, caressed Silva's face, pressing her palm to hold Silva's face.

Faith was almost surprised by how quickly- how greedily Silva leaned into the contact. She smiled into the Hunter's lips though, amused and pleased; the strongest, most dangerous and powerful woman alive, was nothing but mush in the palm of Faith's hand.

Jacob would call this weakness. John would call this lust.

Faith believed this to be worth worshiping.

She broke away from the kiss, hand still on Silva's face. The eye contact they shared spoke in clear volumes of what they both wanted. She could imagine that this wasn't what Joseph had in mind when he sent her over here. Likelihood was, he wouldn't want her to discard the principles he passed down to her even if it meant a rival's destruction.

Faith knew she could stop this. That she could cut this connection from the bud before she defiled Joseph's Word any further.

She knew this, and still curled her hand behind Silva's head, rolling her shoulders so her loosened garb could shrug down to expose more skin. Faith tilted her head so Silva's lips could reach her naked neck, inviting her hunter to ravage at the skin, with promises of more.

With her hand around Silva's head, she guided the other woman to where she needed her attention to be.

Faith traced a hand over her neck, collarbone and covered shoulder. She envisioned the sensual kisses, wet lips pecking at her skin and the loving bites that brought her euphoria.

She trailed that hand down her chest, using her spare to grip her hip, re-enacting from memory how Silva's hands caressed her body, feeling up every curve, every spot, everywhere she could touch.

She hummed, shallow breaths escaped her lips, ecstasy coiled as one hand palmed at her breast, while the other reached lower and lower.

Silva's fingers brushed at her Vicar's clothed sex, and with little self-control to hold her back, the Hunter began to massage Faith's clit. Her lips and teeth continued to cover Faith's skin with a Hunter's affection. Soft murmurs of praise under a native tongue faintly spoken each time Silva tasted the Vicar's flesh, leaving faint bruises, but withholding the strength to break it.

Faith had extended her arms to steady herself against the mirror as Silva had her chase after a high that she was sure no drug could compare to. Her skin felt ablaze with euphoria, a sensation Silva had once admitted rivaled a Hunter's bloodlust during nightly hunts.

Those words had elicited a smug pride that she's sure she'd be shamed for if she expressed it within the Project's Compound.

Grinding against Silva, she could feel the other woman's own excitement digging behind her, and though her actions motivated the Hunter to please her Vicar, it was apparent she was focused on bringing out Faith's pleasure first.

Her legs shook as Silva further stimulated the sensations of her body, Faith's rapid breaths replaced by loud moans of building ecstasy, as Silva's hands massaged her breast and rubbed at her clit and cover her flesh in hickeys.

Faith could feel herself getting closer, strands of hair stuck to her forehead, the pleasure Silva's helped her build up accumulating, with a bated breath, a final release-

"Vicar Faith?" a rough voice belonging to a hunter called out from behind the door with a knock, snapping the woman in question out of her feverish state. The Hunter's voice, who Faith realized belonged to Nadi, continued, "You've been getting ready for a while now. Are you alright?"

Faith, though suffering from irritation, disappointment and a lack of satisfying conclusion to her personal indulgences, managed to reply while only sounding a little breathless, "Yes, I'm fine Hunter Nadi. Just struggles with back laces."

Nadi didn't sound unconvinced from Faith's response as the Hunter stated, "Very well ma'am. I'd just like to inform you that the attendants are being gathered up for this evening's service. And, uh, the Chief Hunter wanted me to add that one of... Eden's Gate' vehicles had arrived?"

Faith felt her blood run cold, and after a momentary silence, Nadi asked, "Vicar Faith, out of curiosity... where will you be going?"

Faith swallowed, letting out a calming exhale as she assuredly said, "Nowhere but here Hunter Nadi. I may have to make an errand to the Convent though, but I'll be escorted by your fellow hunters. Inform the Project members that I will not be leaving the Monastery for tonight."

Hunter Nadi accepted the answer with a small "of course ma'am" and Faith heard the woman's footsteps became fainter and fainter.

Faith huffed out in relief, looking herself in the mirror. She was a little red, and a bit hot and bothered. While the interruption was certainly personally undesirable, she was glad Nadi informed her of their now leaving guests.

Pulling the loose laces behind her to tighten the Vicar's garb, she reached for the final piece; the veil, adorned with a crown of flowers and three red gems. She always wondered what significance this Vicar garb held. It wasn't too dissimilar from a bride's dress, but far more intricate and detailed (and time consuming to put on) than the dress Joseph gifted her.

Paul said that it was designed to make her look ethereal to their converts, trustworthy and responsible, someone to seek guidance and find hope in.

Meanwhile Silva's only interest in the Vicar's garb was to get Faith out of it.

Not that I minded it, she thought coyly.

Many nights she spent in the other women's chambers, or they stayed in her own, pursuing a fiery passion after an uneventful service, or mending the Hunter's wounds after a long hunt. Then there were the quiet moments, where the only intimacy either shared was an embrace.

Neither could keep their hands off one another; touch was as important as their words, letting one know the other was still present.

Which was far from what Joseph had wanted her to do. Her role was to hold influence over the Monastery, to lower their guard and slowly introduce the Word. Keep the sinners from temptation until the beasts were eradicated and the Reaping came, and she'd reunite with her brothers at the Compound, and the false shepherds were both dead.

Though once her escorts return to Joseph without her, Faith was certain he'd figure out that she was one who fell for temptation. Especially if he finds out she confessed to Paul about the plan, and aided him in setting up Joseph's arrest.

Not for Paul though. Nor for the hunters and the converts.

Joseph had given her so much; a new name, a purpose, a family, a second chance at living. Once she was a girl who could only find escape through the needle, tip-toeing between the line of life and death. And he transformed her into someone else; someone worth more. Breathing a into her a new life that she didn't think was possible within her. Nurturing her with his word, with guidance.

She let go of Tracey for him, even though she wished her best friend had stayed. She had left Rachel behind for him. She gave him the Bliss and Angels. She gave him her entire being, to mold and shape in his image.

Sure, the family he took her into wasn't perfect; despite their similarities, John resented her for the attention and praise Joseph sung of her, and she wasn't naive to think Jacob cared for her. He's sat through two sisters; really, how important would a third be?

But that hadn't mattered to her at the time; to Faith, Joseph's was all that mattered.

And that was true, for a time. Just like it had been true for Tracey. And she would always be grateful for him, just as she had been for her former friend.

But she couldn't let Silva die. Not after three painful years trying to wake her up.

Here is the OCs become color quiz results for the main four characters of Wings And Horns; Archangel Metatron, Cadet Azriel, Xiang Ba'al and Jezebel Ba'al. Read below:

ARCHANGEL METATRON

By the finale, this is most definitely true for Metatron.

CADET AZRIEL

This quiz must know Azriel's future because damn!

XIANG BA'AL

Not really Xiang's style. He's a good dad but he's also an extremist in many ways.

JEZEBEL BA'AL

Jezebel's been through some tough shit, I don't think pinning all the blame on her is really fair.

[Meet My Character for A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. Specifically Courier Ryder and Alph Dolen]

And lastly Meet My Character sheets for my Courier Ryder and Alph Dolen from my A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore series.

COURIER RYDER (FALLOUT: NEW VEGAS)

Her “Pronouns” are supposed to be:

She/Her

Her "Defining Features" state: Reddish-brown hair, brown eyes, has scars from past fights on her face, one noticeably at the edge of her left brow, wears riot gear with a courier's drip but not the helmet.

ALPH DOLEN THE LONE WANDERER (FALLOUT 3)

His "Defining Features" state:

Ginger, hazel eyes, predominantly wears wasteland survivor gear with Tunnel Snakes Jacket, after being ghoulified his skin starts greying and becomes sunken, starts losing hair.

Blank Template for those who want to use it:

17 notes · View notes

simplegenius042 · 9 months ago

Text

LATE Understand My Ship in 5 minutes, Understand my (Friend)ship in Five Minutes & Kindly Join the Wedding

Tagged by @adelaidedrubman @socially-awkward-skeleton @g0dspeeed @cassietrn @cloudofbutterflies92 @la-grosse-patate @nightbloodbix @onehornedbeast and @inafieldofdaisies

Tagging @strafethesesinners @direwombat @strangefable @softtidesworld @afarcryfrommymain @henbased @carlosoliveiraa @corvosattano @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @skoll-sun-eater @minilev @derelictheretic @aceghosts @shellibisshe @shallow-gravy @wrathfulrook @florbelles @purplehairsecretlair @turbo-virgins @yokobai and @red-nightskies

Got a Ship from A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore, a friendship from The UnTitledverse and a wedding from Far Cry The Silver Chronicles. After this, I should be all caught up in what I've missed, and then I can make my new Pinned Intro Post. Anyway, you can find the stuff and templates below the cut:

Templates can be found below:

#series: a radioactive calamity of love bombs & gore #fallout #oc: ortega “ore” brantley #fallout new vegas #courier six #the courier #oc: ryder #fc: halle berry #ship: ortega “ore” brantley x ryder #the untitledverse #the perfect storm saga #oc: calvin darling #fc: laurence fishburne #oc: mario emmet #far cry the silver chronicles #far cry 5 #far cry new dawn #wip: old dusk #junior deputy #oc: silva omar #fc: mina el hammani #faith seed #fc: kenz lawren #otp: boa lurking in the bliss #ship: silva omar x faith seed #if you're curious who wrote the red “second” on this it would belong azriel #as this would be silva and faith's second wedding because they had their first in the bunker and azriel was both their only attendant #and their temporary officiate of their marriage #second wedding only happened because people were bummed they missed out on it and this time jerome got to officiate the marriage

23 notes · View notes

simplegenius042 · 2 months ago

Text

LATE Music Monday, WIP Wednesday and OC Familiars Quiz

Tagged by @imogenkol @josephseedismyfather @direwombat @noodlecupcakes and @socially-awkward-skeleton

Tagging @adelaidedrubman @raresvtm @derelictheretic @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @cassietrn @aceghosts @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @softtidesworld @yokobai and @seedsplease + anyone else who want to join.

With Kinktober over I can catch up to all the Music Mondays, WIP Wednesdays and Quizzes I missed. Music for The UnTitledverse and Life, Despair & Monsters. WIPs will be for The Silver Chronicles, two focusing on the Bloodborne AU while one shows the Coroner!Silva AU. This Quiz will be for characters from my Wings And Horns WIP and A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore series. Hope you enjoy below the cut:

At the SCP Foundation, there is often hours or days worth of breaching at the sites, whether it be because of a restless anomaly breaking out once more or an experiment gone wrong. This is no different in SCP: Confining Spaces from The UnTitledverse. Sure, some things escape. And sure, personnel die. But eventually a task force is set in to re-contain the anomalies and save the surviving personnel, or any trace of the site is wiped off the face of this Earth depending on how bad things will be. But ultimately, everything is "Fine and Dandy" in the SCP Foundation:

youtube

"I was there to witness The victim of a sickness He wants the world to notice That he's not worth the focus He could make an entrance But could not make a friend Now he's got lots of different scratches From trying here and then

And I say liberate your sons and daughters The bush is high, but in the hole there's water You can keep it well and hidden No one's perfect, but it's a living

Hey ho, here he goes Either a little to high, or a little to low Got low self-esteem and vertigo But he thinks he's fine and dandy Hey ho, here he goes Either a little to far, or a little to close He's pretending, that everybody knows He thinks he's fine and dandy

Ring a ring of roses Whoever gets the closest He comes and he goes As the war of the roses Mother wouldn't kiss him 'Cause of his condition Now he's stuck in a prison For his strange disposition

Liberate your sons and daughters The bush is high, but in the hole there's water Do as you will, it's much less work to ignore But if it don't feel good What are you doing it for?

Liberate your sons and daughters The bush is high, but in the hole there's water Do as you will, it's much less work to ignore But if it don't feel good What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for?

The main crew of protagonists in Life, Despair & Monsters is made up of menagerie of original and canon characters, most of whom have been negatively affected (that's an understatement) by Sir Enigma Malvolio but I don't think I've discussed who exactly they're made up of? So here's (thus far) the cast out for Malvolio's head; Haoyu Anabuki, along with the DDLC crew Monika, Sayori, Yuri and Natsuki (all except Haoyu were targeted by Malvolio in my Doki Doki Literature Club WIP); Hatsukami Hinode, Icarus Galatos and Xavier Tulip, in addition to Hatter and their fellow heroic partners from France, Marinette/Ladybug, Adrien/Chat Noir, Kagami/Ryuko and Luka/Viperion (Marinette was personally targeted by Malvolio while the others were affected by association in my Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir WIP); Sonya and Jennifer (both victims of Malvolio in my Sonnie's Edge fic); Guenevere & O.R.I.O.N, as well as Morgana, King Arthur and Lancelot (Guenevere & O.R.I.O.N were victims of Malvolio while the latter three were affected by association in my Guenevere WIP); Lora (not personally affected nor targeted, just in it for the adventure, from my Arcane: League of Legends WIP); Rico (affected by association, from my Cyberpunk 2077 WIP); and lastly Sydney, Dina and Sydney (targeted by Malvolio in my I Am Not Okay With This WIP). Now this may be updated with future Love Death + Robots characters or others from other fandoms depending if I can figure out a way for them all to naturally come together. Malvolio actually stopped caring about all of them when he got the data he wanted from them and left, however, when they kill his prized specimen, Edith "Evie" Bloodleech, that's when they get his attention. Here's a song I believe describes both the protags and Malvolio's thought processes toward each other:

youtube

"The bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war Ah, the mighty trumpet brings the freaks out to the floor The bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war Ah, the mighty trumpet brings the freaks out to the floor."

"Tell me, tell me, where the freaks at? Tell me, tell me, where the freaks at? Freaks at, freaks at, freaks at, freaks at-" "Tell me where the freaks at?!"

("Hey!")

"We get that bass thumpin', people jumpin' all over the world We got them speakers pumpin' Timmy Trumpet for the woman with curves Got that freak flow, freak show Welcome to the cicus Let the leaders lead, preachers preach Welcome to the circus!

Close the curtains on 'em if they're actin' like they never heard us See, we do this for a purpose just to keep that fire burnin' And we don't need no water, let that mother-mother burn Timmy, play your trumpet, let the people go berserk!"

("Hey!")

"Tell me, tell me, where the freaks at? Tell me, tell me, where the freaks at? Freaks at, freaks at, freaks at, freaks at-" "Tell me where the freaks at?!"

First snippet of the FC5/Bloodborne AU features the surprise introduction of Tracey Lader as the Hunter of Hunters! For those who don't know, the purpose of the Hunter of Hunters in Bloodborne (in the game it was Eileen the Crow) was to give mercy killings to Hunters who went insane from their blood lust or kill hunters who probably defected/threaten the safety of everyone. They wear crow garb and plague doctor like clothes (and mask to likely avoid the risk of being infected by the werewolf/Scourge Beast Plague (including the Ashen Blood Plague) with two sickle-like daggers called the "Blade of Mercy". Anyway, this is like two-and-a-half or less hours before Joseph's arrest, and Tracey is (kind of) chilling out with her fellow hunters (who may or may not become her victims depending if they can control their blood lust), and while they're mucking about, she suspects somethings up. Enjoy below:

'The Hunter of Hunters is a watchmen who admonishes those who were once our fellow brothers and sisters but have succumbed to the drunk haze of their own blood lust,' she recalled Paul inform her as he initiated her into the role, 'By taking this Oath, Tracey Lader, you not only adorn yourself the weight of the Garb of Crows and the Blades of Mercy, but you alone burden yourself with the sworn duty of putting your comrades, be they man or beast, friend or foe, out of their maddening misery, should they lose themselves.'

Tracey remembered how Paul sliced across the palm of her left hand, to allow the deep flow of blood to emerge from the necessary cut and had her place her bloody hand on the engraving that all Hunters had sworn bloodlessly to. Like she had once done. However, at that time, with her bleeding palm smearing the Rune of Hunters, it had felt different.

'Do you, Tracey Lader, as the next Hunter of Hunters, pledge yourself to remain strong in the face of your blood addled adversaries... to prevail with resilience and resist against the seduction of your own blood lust... and above all else, show a gracious disposition when taking the life of those you will call your comrades?'

Tracey kept thinking back to the very moment she had pledged herself to this life with a hardened yet sincere "Yes". How heavy the decision felt, to hold herself to the standards her Oath demanded. How Paul alone had crowned her the Hunter of Hunters, with no one to witness her inauguration, but the shadows of those she must follow. She brushed a thumb at the intricately-patterned badge of the crow. The only one to have ever been made.

Bestowed upon another escape from the pain and rage of facing the one person who she could not face, lest her tough persona fall. The ghost who roamed the monastery in those white shawls and was dressed as if she was a bride, a constant reminder of her failure she'd fail to endure if she chose to stay.

Tracey breathed in the floral incense in her mask's beak to calm her nerves, before exhaling. It had been years since she had last visited either the Convent or the Monastery, and many more since she's even spoken with... her.

She spent most of her time in the refurbished Prosperity where the Hunter's Chapel resided, a small chapel-like structure no different from Jerome's in Fall's End or the Lamb of God Church, although it was a story taller than the other two, with the bell tower affectionately referred to as the "Crow's Nest" as her predecessors inhabited the space.

Tracey had been less than impressed by the inheritance, but it was... something for her.

Even if it was in the Henbane, she thought with disgust. The region had undergone... some changes throughout the years, and not just from the Hunter's and Peggies use of it.

Weird shit was just happening here, and she wasn't just referring to the Bliss. No, strange sightings were being reported; some range from dancing women whose laughs echoed in the night sky, plus claims of dark shadow-like figures lurking from the mist or hiding in the corners of their eyes, and the smoke bellowing from makeshift chimneys coming from the abandoned Misery.

Those, however, Tracey personally believed were either Bliss hallucinations or just the cult being fucking shifty, and was also explained as such.

However the other reports were... less explainable. There had been some sort of reports of cloaked and hooded masked figures walking to or from the Peggies Pilgrimage, ringing bells and carrying stretches of wrapped up bodies either collected or disposed of. Not to mention the reports of unfamiliar beasts lurking in the foliage, bio-luminescent fluids sprayed on the few buildings that were here, the disappearances that neither matched what they've come to expect from both beasts and Peggies alike.

Hell, Miss Mable complained about the fucking moon, all because Peaches "didn't act like her usual self", even though she made the claim after a hunt had been completed, so Tracey dismissed that as just Peaches hating the hunt.

She sighed and leaned back against the wood, observing how the sun descended lower, reflecting off the lens of her mask. It would only be another two hours or so before the Sheriff's Department would come arrest Joseph... or so Paul had informed her.

It was... shocking when he said those words over the radio. After years of establishing a good connection with Joseph and his cult in spite of their shady operations, years of listening to her and many other's concerns but dismissing them in an assuring voice, and years of standing up for the Seeds in the face of backlash and gifting them two out of the three bunkers that were dens to the beasts... he finally does something about that wretched man.

At least, it's what Tracey assumes to be his doing. Likely couldn't ignore the warning signs with the recent spur between the county's residents and the Peggies decade-long growth of suspicion and resentment. Maybe trying to save face.

Regardless, if it leads to the downfall of Joseph and his cult, and the Sheriff's Department to get off their asses, Tracey can't not be satisfied by the outcome, right?

Though there was a lingering feeling, just at the back of her mind. A doubtful, bad feeling. And a few questions.

What does Paul get out of this?

It's not like Paul to just let his main ally who supplies him with numbers and resources against the scourge beasts to just be arrested. Hell, even with the beasts numbers almost depleted, they were still an issue. She hated to admit it, but Joseph and his family had been a fundamental reason to why they were succeeding thus far.

She pondered if Paul is doing this to gain all of Eden's Gate' resources and property. Some of which would present an advantage against the remaining beasts, especially if Joseph really had been proven as an obstacle to their goals.

Not only that, but it also would mean Paul would no longer have all of them bound to the restrictions of the Seeds' deal.

While impressive if Paul had truly planned that out, it brought up the problem of how Paul could stake claim on those resources if Paul and the Hunter's weren't collectively affected by the Peggies actions, personal bias and experience notwithstanding. Thinking more on it, Tracey noted how hush-hush Paul had sounded about Joseph's coming arrest.

She's made her objective assumptions on the reasons why Joseph would be getting cuffed, but she never got a clear confirmation from Paul himself before he cut off communication.

The sun blared while the sky grew more orange, and Tracey looked away from it. A reminder of her next question.

Why has Paul allowed this to happen now?

The timing itself didn't sit right with her... not the fact he's allowed this to happen nine years late, but instead with the growing darkness from every second that goes by, the sun gaining closer to the horizon.

She'd thought if Joseph was going to be arrested, Paul would have it occur during the day, or at the very least, at a time dawn would arrive.

Not late evening when the sun was setting. Not at dusk. Not at a time where by the time the Sheriff's Department arrived to Joseph's Compound, they'd all be violating curfew. Not at a moment where the Hunters would need to prep for a potential hunt.

Which lead to her final question...

Why was she and the rest of the Hunters all on stand by?

By now, the Hunters would have gathered their preferred weapons, mapped out the roads and areas where the beasts would most likely linger, set up the traps for the Sanctuary Hunters fortifying and guarding populated areas like Fall's End, the Monastery, the Convent, as well as Eden's Gate property and bunkers.

Plus here, she grimly noted, seeing no signs of the heavily garbed protectors. Nor of Alexander and his squire, Hannah.

Usually, Tracey would be the first to leave... after all, the Hunter of Hunters must take to the shadows during a hunt, and keep tabs on her comrades at all instances, and be swift and effective at the signs of their consumption to darker impulses.

But not this time. Paul had specifically ordered to stand by and await further orders. Not just for her, but some of her fellow hunters as well.

She glanced over to what was once the mayor's office; now a glorified lounge set up by Boshaw and Drubman Jr, with cushioned office chairs dragged out and set about a small bonfire with desks that had bottles of beer and pizza boxes.

The two were fooling about; Sharky blabbering on about some nonsense while fucking around with the parts of his flamethrower, and although Jess didn't seem too annoyed with Sharky's topic of conversation, as she pretended to inspect her arrow, Tracey noticed how she tensed whenever the device branched its aim almost towards her.

Hurk was throwing knives at the empty beer bottles he set up for target practice... to a surprising amount of success, to his delight.

The only one she couldn't find amongst the menagerie was Grace.

"Aren't you hot in that thing?"

Tracey turned to look beside her. Speak of the devil and he may appear, she thought to herself, though replace "devil" with "ally" and "he" with "she" and Tracey found Grace Armstrong in her dark green leather attire. It was reminiscent of her military uniform, but much suited for a hunting beasts rather than dispelling enemies.

"It's the middle of winter," Tracey pointed out gruffly, though Grace didn't seem too phased by her tone, instead she just snorted at her reply.

"Don't you want to at least get some fresh air before you use up all your incense?" Grace inquired, tone neutral. Though Tracey wasn't bothered by it, she understood the other woman's just looking out for her.

However, that didn't mean she wanted to be unprepared in case Paul's orders had some solidity behind it.

"Technically, I'm on the clock," she refuted with an excuse, eyeing the sun's descent closely, "We're all on the clock, and I want to be ready once the Chief Hunter clarifies further commands. And orders are orders."

Grace gave an understanding nod and appeared to take the hint to not push further, but she did say, "I understand. Though hadn't the Chief also ordered for us to stick close together?"

Tracey, with a tilting head, did in fact recall that, "Yeah...?"

"Then you wouldn't mind joining the rest of us by the fire then?" Grace responded with a raised brow. Tracey stared at her with wide eyes, though Grace couldn't likely tell from the beaked mask. Failing to come up with an immediate reply, Grace takes notice and simply states, "You don't have to. I know Boshaw and Drubman are... extreme company."

Tracey snorted at her words, Extreme is an understatement for any member of the Powder Kegs. How Paul approved of the coven was beyond her.

Last snippet of the FC5/Bloodborne AU (before we switch over to the Coroner AU) takes place many, many, many hours and I imagine chapters (probably somewhere in the midway point) after Tracey's last few hours of rest before she is fighting for her damn life. Here is a flashback of Tracey's reaction to Faith becoming their new Vicar after a year or so of being a regular Hunter and never seeing her face after the split, as well as Paul promoting her to Hunter of Hunters. Enjoy below: [TW: Descriptions of decomposing desecrated corpses, maybe borders on gore(?), weird plants and Character Death]

Tracey looked across the treeline through the dark purple shade of the clocktower's window, curled up against the window sill's wall, her hand gripping at the knee of her pants.

Rage, sorrow and confusion were mixing at the forefront of her mind. Wondering... why? Why, why, why, why? Why her? Of all people, why her?!

Tracey didn't think she'd find an answer, until she heard him climbing his way up the ladder to the head of the clocktower, ascending with a creak from each step he put his weight on.

Not far long, she glanced to see the black fingerless leather gloves grip at the last step of the ladder, and the familiar sight of blonde dyed hair was first to ascend as Paul pulled himself up.

He was out of breathe by the time her crawled onto the wooden floor, though she didn't blame him; after all, the clocktower had a lot of ladders required to climb up until one is to reach the top. She only did it because it's the most isolated room in the Monastery.

Which is why Paul must have found her so quickly. She kept her eyes to the window as he looked her way, but through the reflection she could see his hazel eyes perk up just as his lips curved into his signature jovial and excited smile.

"Ah, I knew you'd be here," Paul commented, not noticing the cold glare she sent his way through the glass pane, "Kamski reckoned you ran off, but I begged to differ. Now he owes me ten snails."

He let out a little laugh as he stood up, though when he noticed how she kept her gaze to the view, it faltered to a flat end.

Still keeping on his smile, he adjusted the brace around his left leg (at this point, the monastery had given up on trying to stop him from exerting that leg in spite of very valid medical concerns that he ignores, though on the plus side, Kamski still gives him shit) before he took a step closer as he chose not to beat around the bush, "I had noticed you weren't present for Vicar Faith's inauguration ceremony, which got me worried. Uh, you missed out quite the spectacle."

Tracey cocked her head as she tried to put her emotions into words towards Paul. Though this action seemed to have prompted Paul to tell her what she had intentionally missed out on, "Oh, yes. Once Faith was established the title of Vicar, Silva had taken the initiative in swearing the Old Hunter's to oath her. Took her hand, bowed down as she made her vows, and ended it with a kiss to the new Vicar's knuckles. A tad dramatic, even for her? Sure, but a passionate display of fealty I never expected from her."

Paul trailed off, mumbling some words Tracey didn't care to hear as her fist dug into her leg.

"Why her?" she finally asked the man, though her quiet tone made the words sound rougher when they left her lips.

Paul hummed in question, and approached closer. He placed a hand onto her shoulder, but she whacked it aside, to both of their surprise. She recovered quickly though, looking straight into his surprised hazel eyes as she inquired, louder, "Why Rachel?"

Paul blinked at her, clueless and ignorant, trying to make sense of her question, "Rachel? Your best friend?"

"Former best friend," she hissed out in correction, and grew hotter from the frustration of him not figuring it out, "The one who stayed with that cult to become daddy's little flower girl. THAT Rachel."

Paul sputtered at her words, shocked and confused as he tried to wrap his head around it.

"But Faith can't be Rachel? She's the Seed brothers sister... unless you're insinuating that Joseph adopted Rachel and had her become...," Paul trailed off as he paused and really thought about it, thinking back on things he's heard at some point and corroborating it with this recent information before reaching a realization, "...Huh."

Tracey waited for him to come to the rational conclusion of an apology or even go and rectify the mistake of bringing an untrustworthy ally into his inner circle, but instead he puts a gloved hand to his chin, lost in thought, "That's... actually very useful information. Grazie for letting me know."

Tracey stared at Paul, exasperation only fueling the growing embers of anger as she stood up, "That's it? THAT'S FUCKING IT?! That's all you have to say? Why is it good to know? Why did you put her in a position of power close enough to your own? Why have the Hunters allied with Eden's Gate, despite what I told you about them? WHY, Paul?!"

Chest heaving and breathless, Tracey tried to hold on to her ire, to direct it at someone she thought knew better. Because that'd be easier than confronting HER, wouldn't it?

In spite of her outburst, Paul regarded her with nothing but a concerned gentleness. His gaze was reminiscent of when he first met her; the same balance of pity and empathy he showed when he spoke to a teen with no home and no place in the world, given to her once more while she was barely entering her twenties now.

It was the same, it had to be; there was no condescension, no manner of coddling, just... understanding and patience.

She wondered if this is something he learned as a father while raising Silva. A brief thought came after that too, 'Does he see himself as a father to me?'

She dismissed it though. Paul was like this with every one of his Hunters. She supposed he attain some of his more fatherly qualities into his leadership, but she could understand that the authority of both roles could intersect.

She didn't need a father. Never had. But she respected Paul. He ran a tight ship based on comradery and loyalty, and wasn't afraid to get dirty with them if the situation called for it, something she can't say the same about Joseph and his brothers during her time in the Project, even with his whole bullshit spiel of "I am your father and you are my children".

She supposed, thinking back on it, she had assumed Rachel to be the same as her.

Maybe she should have brought Rachel here instead of listening to that old coot.

Paul slowly moved closer to her, a slight limp to his braced left leg. He was tall, at least a head taller than her, but he wasn't intimidating, not to her at least. Silva was intimidating, but only because it was like she knew things that Tracey didn't, and the latter was fine with that.

Even then, fear wasn't something used to lead here. Fear was a reminder that they were still human.

'Fear is one step away from courage, if you're willing to confront it,' she remembered Elsa once say. The woman was a box of mysteries, and not one Tracey had the patience to unwrap.

"I know you're worried," Paul acknowledged, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder, "I understand your concerns. If I had my way, I'd want nothing to do with the Seeds. But we need help against the beasts, and as luck would have it, the Project has the people and the resources we can utilize, in exchange for giving them the beasts' dens after we eradicate them."

Tracey shook her head as she tried walk past him, but he place another hand on her shoulder. Although it was gentle and held little strength, she decided not to push past him, and let him say his piece.

"I'm not being foolish here, Tracey," he assures her, giving a small pat, "I know their not trustworthy. I know bringing Faith in as our Vicar is a risk. I wouldn't do this unless I was confident I could counter anything they could try."

Tracey felt her outrage begin to dissipate, although it didn't leave completely. She was confused on why he'd still do this in spite of the risks, "Then... why?"

Paul looked away as he pondered an answer; or perhaps, whether or not he should disclose the information to her. Looking back to her though, he cracked and gave in, "Because game recognizes game. They're planners. Schemers. I am aware of the threat they pose, and I want to be able to keep a close eye on them, or at least have leverage."

Tracey narrowed her eyes at Paul; while she was glad he wasn't being ignorant to the threat and acknowledged the danger Eden's Gate can pose, she was alarmed by his last sentence, "Is Ra- Faith leverage?"

Paul cringed. Another contrast from what she's seen between Joseph and Paul; one kept a serene and almost otherworldly act up, as if he was close but still a messiah to be idiolized from afar... like the moon, in a weird sense. Beautiful and appealing from afar, but ugly and desolate up close.

Meanwhile, time after time, she's consistently seen just how... honest Paul was in his expressions. Joy and sadness, amusement and annoyance, patience and anger, pride and disappointment. And sometimes embarrassment. He was so... human, that it almost made her forget how she knew he and his daughter hide things from many people.

But that mostly related to whatever was in their past, some inner workings of the Hunters, and however the fuck 'Enlightenment' works. And frankly, two of those were none of her business, and all three didn't affect the public as far as she was concerned.

Paul spoke once more, though more hesitant she noticed, and less explanatory, "...I don't intend her to be. I really can't say much else than that, Tracey."

Tracey however wanted to confirmation, "But if it came down to it... would you?"

Paul frowned, looking almost apologetic, "I can't get things to go the direction I hope it will go... then sì. I don't like it, and I can guess how you feel, but it'll be the only advantage we have to keep Joseph on a leash. Or at dealt with."

Paul saw how conflict riddled Tracey's face, and he added, "I'm not going to hurt her. That had never been the intention when bringing her in, and you know, that's not what we do here. I need you to trust me, cara puma. Trust that... I can help her see something better than him."

Tracey looked to Paul, how his hazel eyes implored for her to believe in him. Such sincerity that she'd never see through Joseph's serenity. She gave a sigh, "I... guess I can trust you."

Paul looked relieved. Tracey though thought of those white shawls around the dress of the Vicar's garb, crowned by flowers and three blood gems forged by their rune masters Isiah and Gemini. A hauntingly beautiful visage that would roam these halls, and a reminder of how she wasn't enough for her in the end.

And she couldn't face her. Not now. So, she had to tell him, "But... Paul I can't be in the same building as her. I don't want to leave the Hunter's Coven... I really don't but if there's no other option...."

She left the rest unsaid, though seeing how Paul noticed her distress, she realized she didn't have to say it. He understood.

She expected him to accept her words as a resignation, but was surprised by his next words, "There is one..."

Tracey's attention was captured, and Paul continued, "I had wanted to talk to you about this for some time now. You see... in light of Hunter Elsa's death, there had been no successors, whether chosen by her will or volunteering themselves, to take up her mantle of the Hunter of Hunters."

"Silva and I had a discussion about it... trying to figure out who could be a worthy successor to her sorella," Paul explained, and Tracey felt her heat beat pace up as Paul regained eye contact with her, "And we agreed that maybe... if you're willing... it could be you."

Tracey, to put it simply, was at a loss of words. Paul, however, was not, so he continued, "Again, you can refuse. It's less an offer and more of a burden to ask of you. But it might help you get what you want... you can keep to yourself, you're not required to be with groups, only fight when you need to, and you don't have to set foot on the Monastery again. You'll be stationed at Prosperity in the Henbane, where most of the other Hunters reside. You won't ever have to cross paths with Faith, as we're mostly keeping her here and likely visits elsewhere, but not Prosperity."

"It's not ideal, but it's yours if you- woah!" Paul had to balance himself from the weight of the young woman hugging into him. Tracey couldn't fathom how a clusterfuck of a misunderstanding in the form of an accidental kidnapping lead to her finding like-minded people who were ready to fight for the county's freedom against the scourge. Nor the fact they show respect to her as a person.

"Thank you," she softly whispered, the gratitude carrying more weight than just this offer.

Paul slowly returned the embrace, lightly and clearly trying to avoid being too clingy, but he was at least relaxed.

He gave a small calming pat to her back, the rays of sunlight breaking through the window, shining a purple hue through the clocktower's tinted glass , "Anything for my Hunters."

--------

In the darkness that expanded in the maze of the catacombs, the decaying plant growth crunched under the weight of Tracey's boots, despite her cautious steps.

Through her mask's lens, she could see vines and moss cling dead to the walls, the ceiling and the ground. Mold spread along the walls and ceilings, sewage dripping from old rusted pipes and dust circulated in the air. But that wasn't all; there were two other unidentifiable flora growths in this labyrinth.

The first was a fat, pulsing bio-luminescent fungus growing from the cracks of the floor, spewing out what was clearly spores and leaking... something out of its cavity hole. Tracey was thankful to her beaked mask, breathing in the floral incense instead... whatever is in the air.

The second was less flora and more of a mini structure; a packed group of hexagonal prismatic columns stuck to corners of the expanse including the pillars, similar to that of a wasp nest or a beehive. Difference was, Tracey didn't believe these to be made of bee wax or dead leaves. It looked more like yellowed cartilage.

Tracey spotted buzzing yellowjackets writhing inside the hives. She swallowed on nothing, fear keeping her heart pounding, alive and on edge.

She could never picture the monastery having a basement level... especially one so deep. Pots of cremated ash laid at the bottom of the walls, the walls aligned with skulls, the age of which she couldn't tell.

She didn't want to waste time inspecting the architecture of a level she only felt unease in. She called out once more, "Lindsey! Are you here?!"

She saw on the other side of this room another set of doorways wide open, a possible indication that Dr. Lindsey went through there. She shook her head in frustration; this would be the fourth set of doors she'd go through in the Monastery, the first being the base level and the next ones descending further into the basement.

She decided to run through it until she saw the veterinarian or bumped into him.

She sped in a burst, dashing past the doorways, expecting to run down a curve of steps. Instead she stumbled and fell over two steps, managing to at least roll to avoid landing on her face.

She grunted, displeased. Tracey began to stand, pushing one hand down for support, but froze when she hear repulsing squish.

She down to where her gloved hand was, and saw it was pressed inside the decomposing corpse of a man; a Peggie, she noted, seeing the slashed marking of their cross. She retracted her hand away from it, keeping her hand close to the hilt of one blade.

She slowly stood up as she inspected the new room; similar to the architecture of the catacombs, the only difference she found were the four dead trees, the broken gravestones circling close the walls and corners of the room (with exception to the entrance and whatever opening was on the other side of the spore mist) and lastly the abundance of decomposing corpses, human and beast alike, male and female, big and small, strewn across the floor, the ground covered in their collective dried blood.

They all shared the same fatal wounds; one slash across the chests, stomachs and backs, or perhaps missing chunks of their bodies, or skulls busted open, and all having some form of their limbs and heads all separated from the body in a fest of gore. She wasn't even sure if the appendages she can see belong to any of the bodies or if some had been taken to... elsewhere.

Thoughts of the Misery invaded Tracey's mind, but she shook it away. Although what she witnessed there was... horrific, what she can see now was above it, if not equal to-

-elch!

Tracey froze at the distant sound. Heart hammering, she tilted her head, listening closely for small sound. She tensed when she heard it reverberate around the room again.

Squelch!

Breathing heavily, she gripped tightly around both her blades' handles, ready to draw them at the slightest hint of trouble as she maneuvered her steps around the corpses. Gaining closer, she heard it louder.

SQUELCH!

From a small distance, she could see a figure's silhouette through the mist. They lifted their arms, clearly holding a long, sharp-ended or perhaps spiked weapon that requires two hands, before bringing it down again, result in the disturbing squelch, this time with the addition of a crunch.

She unsheathed her blades just a bit, as she gained closer behind her distracted enemy. That's at least what she assumed they were. From the looks of it, human. Sharply dressed in what seemed to be yellow and black hunter's garb. A blood-drunk serial-killing Hunter? Now I've seen everything tonight, she thought to herself.

She found herself eating her words too early as she halted in her approach when she noticed three distinct details.

First, this hunter's figure and small raspy ragged breath indicated that he was male.

Second, he held a curved, hooked staff, the head taking on the familiar appearance of a curled wasp with with spikes along the back for a painful blunt attack.

And third, his left leg was adorned with a brace around it.

Tracey's eyes widened as she recognized who this Hunter was.

The nausea set in when he stopped cutting down the limb of the corpse. A recently bloodied dark-haired corpse that had a red slash across the teal shirt, crimson splotches staining the black vest and dusty grey pants.

The shattered rectangular glasses and dropped busted open med kit, the contents spilled from the fall, were only a confirmation of both the victim's identity and who the culprit was for the other corpses.

He released a deep exhale, while her breaths only increased. He calmly removed one hand from his weapon and leaving his other on it, all the while her hands trembled on the hilt of her blades.

She could only watch as his turned, not all the way, not revealing all of his features, for she didn't need to discern who he was even if he did, but to acknowledge her presence.

"Ah... Lader," Paul drawled out her surname with such serenity that it just sounded wrong. Tracey shuddered as he said, "I knew you'd come here."

[A/n] Psych! It was a flashback and the present moment! Also sorry Charles, but you're canonically friends with Tracey and happiness more-or-less doesn't exist in this AU.

Now let's cut to an AU that's more... not lighthearted but certainly not Bloodborne. A scene of my Coroner!Silva AU that's not actually part of the main Coroner AU fic No Snake, Only A Boa In The Garden since in that fic the Reaping doesn't occur. Pretty much it's less "story with themes and messages and character development stuff" and more "crack treated seriously". I find this version of the AU funny because there is NO badass deputy the Resistance can rely on. Instead they've got Coroner!Silva whose functioning below 4 hours of sleep, drinks when stressed or sad, and she's in no state to fight (at least with guns... she can give a good stab with her dagger but that's as violent as she gets). Like the Resistance here are handling with whatever scraps they can gather (while Eden's Gate has all the good shit) and Silva's utilized just as Lindsey is; aka the closest people they've got to medical professionals (except one usually deals with animals and the other usually deals with dead people). However, thing is, this Silva still knows shit and often gives advice and training, and though she's not fighting on the field, she is doing reconnaissance, marking property for the Resistance and plays messenger between the regions' Resistance. She still upholds Deputy!Silva's tradition of refusing to join the Seed's cult and finding all the ways to inconvenience/piss them off (except for Faith, because Coroner!Silva had the bright idea to attempt seduction and is somehow surprised she ended up in a situationship with the Seed sister). That's the gist of it. Enjoy the few seconds of Nancy's appearance:

Nancy spoke into the headset's microphone once more, desperate to receive any contact back after Earl's panicked voice rang in, "Come in... is everything OK? Over."

Silence responded back, no sound of the Sheriff nor the deputies. Not even the Marshal. Could have something gone wrong? came the worried thought, Had the arrest gone awry? Or had God decided upon their fates?

Feeling a pang of sadness if that was the case, she tried again once more, "Please, are you there? Are you there? Are you there, Sheriff?"

Receiving no response from Earl, she tried the next names that came to mind.

"Deputy Hudson, if you're there please pick up," She repeated, glancing around the room to see if anyone else was there. Specifically the department's coroner, Silva.

She assumed her to still be in her morgue, which brought Nancy a sense of relief.

It wouldn't do that poor woman any good to listen to this, she thought to herself, focusing back to her screen, Dear Lord, if it's within your plan, please spare them. They're important to more people than myself.

"Deputy Pratt? Are you there? Are you there?" she asked frantically, "Earl, com in. Over."

"Please, is anyone there?" Nancy spoke, voice quivering as the silence grew louder, "Please, pick up. I need to know what's going on-"

"Dispatch," came a voice, all too familiar to her, all too gentle, that it put her at ease.

"Oh my god," she breathed out in revered relief, knowing the Father was alright.

"Everything is just fine here," he spoke, his words carrying an assuring weight, a wordless message that told Nancy, They're alive. They're safe. They're with us now. At least that's what Nancy chose to believe as the Father instructed, "No need to call anyone."

Nancy gave a small smile, understanding the meaning of his words. The Reaping has begun. Ensure it remains uninterrupted.

"Yes, Father," she replied through the microphone, knowing her new purpose now, "Praise be to you."

She switched off the call, removing the headset to prepare for her next task.

Though she paused when she heard the clinking sound of metal being dragged off the counter and fast pace of shoes running against the floor.

The last thing Nancy saw as she turned around was the glimpse of a white coat and the end of the coffee maker before pain and then darkness.

---

Silva had not believed herself capable of committing any sort of violence in the present day. She though the days of pain and returning pain onto others was far behind her in this new life of hers.

Although, staring at Nancy's unconscious form that flopped from her seat and onto the floor with a purple-ish bruise already forming on her forehead, had the coroner rethink that belief.

Discarding the now inoperable coffee maker, Silva flicked the communications back on. Grabbing the headset and bringing the microphone muff to one ear, she called out, "Sheriff? Hudson? Pratt? Can you hear me? Over."

She received only static. So she tried once more.

"It's Silva! It's a trap. I repeat, it's a trap. Nancy's one of them," she tried to warn through the call, "Please. Someone respond."

Soon enough, the screen flickered with an error, the call cancelled or some form if interference, she'd assume. Silva slammed the headset down, distressed.

She cursed under her native tongue, dragging a gloved hand through her long dark hair. She looked down to the groaning form of Nancy, a sensation of confused ire at being deceived by someone she thought to at least be a close co-worker.

However, she couldn't focus on Nancy now; the other's were being lead to a trap, or perhaps had been, she couldn't tell. All she overheard was Nancy's affirmative yes to who she could only assume to be the Project's cult leader, and giving her praise to him.

Looking at the coffee maker, she cringed at the thought that perhaps she went a tad far in her reaction, but she digressed; Nancy was a traitor and the few people she could call the closest things to friends were now in danger or worse.

She had to do something. But what?

And finally, the quiz results for two OCs each from Wings And Horns and A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore:

CADET AZRIEL (WINGS AND HORNS [ORIGINAL WORKS])

JEZEBEL BA'AL (WINGS AND HORNS [ORIGINAL WORK])

NATE GUST SARID (A SYMBOL FOR A BETTER WORLD [FALLOUT 4])

These are all surprisingly more-or-less correct for these three characters.

10 notes · View notes

the-silver-chronicles · 1 year ago

Text

WIP Wednesday + My OC as... & What Faerie Court Does Your OC Belong To? & What Does Your Soul Look Like?

Tagged by @g0dspeeed @voidika @socially-awkward-skeleton @deputy-morgan-malone @direwombat @adelaidedrubman and @onehornedbeast

Tagging @shallow-gravy @inafieldofdaisies @strangefable @strafethesesinners @josephslittledeputy @minilev @chazz-anova @cassietrn @snake-in-the-garden @corvosattano @ec-10 @deputyash @derelictheretic @henbased @jacobmybeloved @ladyoriza @nightbloodbix @vampireninjabunnies-blog @neverthesameneveranother @wrathfulrook @carlosoliveiraa @thewanderer-000 @softtidesworld @josephseedismyfather @skoll-sun-eater @vasiktomis and @afarcryfrommymain + anyone else who wants to join.

One WIP, two quizzes and a sharing visual stuff of Silva with the My OC as.... Here's the "What Faerie Court does your OC belong to?" Quiz and the "What does Does Your Soul Look Like?" Quiz.

Here's the WIP of that unnamed "Arranged Marriage" AU, with Silva agonizing over her life so far (after a shower no less) as she waits for Faith to come back with a dreadful wedding dress. Snippet below:

[Silva's] head in gloved hands, she fought the urge to grab a fistful of dark hair and rip it out. To scream and curse... at what? God? Her father? Joseph and the prophets before him who were too cowardly and self-absorbed in their own dead delusions to even try not to fuck someone's life over for once?

Or would she curse herself? For agreeing to this arrangement, despite how much she hates it? For hurting others with her very presence, being forced to wander in their vision even after taking the lives of loved ones, whose blood has since been washed off, but not the scars and lesions that are scattered over her damaged hands, a reminder of the lives she took? Curse herself for not putting her own needs, her desires, her hopes and dreams before others, just as Kamski insisted she do?

Silva didn't know. She didn't know what to do anymore. It was far beyond what she initially knew. Far from what she was taught in the Minas. Eden's Gate wasn't like Father's battalions of Enforcers, cruel and deplorable in their mission, nor were they like the Apostles, teaching malevolence and hidden in shadows.

Eden's Gate had a mission, one with the best of intentions, but were spreading terror in their methods, even if they seemed a bit remorseful, which doesn't change the fact they have ruined lives indefinitely, nor excuse the recruitment of psychopaths like the Cook.

It was uncanny just how much qualities about the Project that she could despise and how much she could differentiate it from the likes of her father's Enforcers. It didn't make it any better that Joseph and John seemed genuine in their desire to have her as apart of the family, even when her gut argues that it's nothing more than a ploy, a deception, with her stomach coiling in agreement, the very reminder that she'd be married to Jacob in the coming weeks making her nauseous again.

Despite the personal cost of her freedom, she had to do it, especially if it meant peace for the Resistance and the freedom of Hudson and Pratt... and Burke as well she guessed. She could also breath a little easier with the knowledge that she had forced Joseph to acknowledge that this marriage was, at best, a tactical ploy for peace, more-or-less, and convinced him to give not only his word that Jacob would not try anything of harmful or sexual nature towards her, but also had him forbid his older brother as "the Father" from even thinking to do such acts, or else she would not agree to anything more.

Silva knew from experience that a profeta's word was as reliable as a rickety old bridge worn down from age, but if he backed out on any of the agreements, not only would he face backlash from herself and the Resistance, but most likely a few of his own people as well.

It still didn't change the fact she was a prisoner here both presently and with the reminders of how guilty her own conscience really is.

She gave the Resistance a standing chance for freedom, however that is going, even if it meant she was restricted in her own.

Jannah, Elsa would be so disappointed in me. Worse then disappointed probably. She'd return from the ashes if she could, and then go on to berate Silva of not only her martyr tendencies, but also give her an earful for all the times Silva had told Elsa to keep track of her own well-being while being mindful of others.

How hypocritical of me.

Does that make me closer to Father than it does Paul now?

Silva wasn't sure how to answer that, but she couldn't blink the welling tears away, no matter how much ferocity she put in.

Here I am... on a bed in Faith's Gate... a prison in all but name, surrounded by people I have hurt in more ways than one... crying to myself... as I can do nothing for my friends and neighbours who I can't even communicate with, no less hear from... all the while I'm waiting on Faith to get me whatever wretched wedding dress the Seeds had stolen to have me wear... while in nothing but my undergarments and the thinnest bathrobe.

It may not be as rock bottom as walking in a blizzard barefoot in a shitty dress at 10-years-old while Enforcers searched for her across the bridge to the Minas, or sailing on a boat with little supplies, taking care of an infant barely two weeks old, and tending to an injured hermana after escaping a successful massacre on the one community she thought truly understood her. Nor was it like the day she returned to the county, into her resident home, without her hija in hand to carry to bed, and as if to kick her further, find out the legacy Elsa wanted to leave behind in the form of her floristry had been stolen away during Silva's absence. But it was still suffocating, and she couldn't help but mourn for the normalcy she almost regained.

Here's the results for the "What Faerie Court Does Your OC Belong To?" Quiz.

Elsa Omar (Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, The Harbinger's Salvation AU)

Yeah this describes Elsa. She generally doesn't take in account the feelings of others in canon nor in this AU. Elsa is very selfish, and only cares for the people closest in her family circle (mainly Silva, Persephone, & Ezekiel + Azriel and Mercy if she got to meet them), everyone else is a pawn to use and abuse for whatever means necessary, especially in The Harbinger's Salvation AU, where her older sister is under the control of the Apostles of Zachariah. Elsa is narcissistic and vain, as well as a compulsive liar to majority of people to boot. She has no problem enacting on every vice (smoking, drinking, screwing, etc) without shame, even if it is detrimental to her overall health and social apathy. Credit where credit is due, she's achieved sleeping with nearly everyone in the county, something even Adelaide hadn't achieved. But its the fact she's careless of everyone's feelings and also gives zero fucks about looking through peoples things to see what she can use for blackmail. She's absolutely NOT a good person, it just happens to be that her goals are either beneficial to others (her work with the Resistance in the AU even if she's not in it for their fight but more so her sisters' safety, having gathered enough evidence of Eden's Gate' crimes to send Joseph to prison for life to protect Silva and Persephone, etc) or even she has morals or ideals she wouldn't cross/adopt (absolutely knows for certain that Adam's Guard is not safe nor should be left to exist, wouldn't join the Apostles because of their habits to bring terror and death to others, and wouldn't join Eden's Gate because they restrict peoples' freedoms in what they want to do for their lives besides devote it to God which would be a very unhappy place for Silva and Azriel, etc) even if those are because it goes against her self-interests. Elsa is willing to take massive risks, which though can be dangerous, she's always confident of the rewards it brings. And just because her bones are brittle doesn't mean she's not willing to go down rough and dirty to win.

Now for the "What does your soul look like?" Quiz.

Azriel (Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, Wings And Horns original work)

I mean this pretty much describes Azriel. Neglected by her parents and then was almost killed by them as they tried to sacrifice her to prove themselves worthy of staying in Eden's Gate, was always shunned for her interests in technology and invention from within the project did not help her mentally. Nor did the isolation. Afraid everyone is out to get her, this 9-year-old puts up a ferocious front in order to at least look the part of scary. Which offputs people from her or undermine her with sympathy she doesn't understand nor want. She feels as if no one wants her, nor do they want to understand her, choosing how she should live her life. Well, at least until she meets Silva in a chance encounter that changes the fate of the county and Silva's role in the Reaping and the Collapse. The first time the Voice felt fear that day. And it wouldn't be the last time either.

Now for the "My OC as..." stuff. I tried to find a faceclaim that I thought was true to Silva. (RANT: I had to go to f***ing Quora for this. And I hate Quora with a burning passion. I still receive their emails to this day. No I don't want to know how to make a Spinach cake, I'm not interested in the quantum physics of a blackhole and no I don't want to be involved in the debate on whether its criminal to leave the toilet seat up, IT IS, debate over!). Anyway Silva's current faceclaim for the time being (or indefinite if I feel that "do you know what, this person is right for Silva") is actress Mina El Hammani. In order to use and create this template I used this trustworthy meme generator, who never disappoints me (unlike Quora).

Maybe I should make one of Paul one day. That would be interesting dissecting him like this.

27 notes · View notes