#rebuilding forgotten hollow

[sasaofastora]

Here’s another one for Halloween, because even vampires need a community centre!

The Dueling Grounds (30x20) - Community Space (all three sub-types are uploaded seperately)

Part of my Rebuilding the World project! You can find all my builds by searching CmdrWheatley on the gallery. Builds in this series are all cc free, and don’t forget to have the moveobjects on cheat active before placing.

[thesims4lesbian]

Fenri was... scary

"So before we go see Fenri I'm just gonna give you a little warning. She can be a little harsh, let's say. She is our leader and her loyalty to the pack can sometimes come across as annoyance..." Rieka tells Kat as they walk towards the kitchen.

"So you not only brought the human into our town but now our home. Why, Rieka?" Fenri says not looking up at the two of them.

"She was passed out in the hunting grounds at midnight, it was not safe." Rieka explains.

"And is it safe for us to bring a human here?" Fenri's voice is ice cold.

"I'm not dangerous I promise" Kat says but Fenri does not respond.

"I'm Kat, Kat Woodard." Kat says and reaches out her hand to shake Fenri's.

"Fenri Bardou." Fenri does not shake her hand. Fenri doesn't even look up at them. Just continues to cook.

((cc and animations/poses are not mine))

[crazy-lazy-elder-sims]

remember my project "turn forgotten hollow into a vampire night life district"

well after taking alil break i went in and finalized the exterior of the buildings and i love them let me share them with you guys aaah ( i will make official posts for each building with lore once i get the interiors done) tumblr butchers the preview quality so to view HQ images open the image

so first up the biggest and oldest exclusive invite only : Club Fang

next up is a very well known club among the goths and alternatives built in the 80's : COVVIN ( get it its both coven and coffin hehe )

next is : The LOVE XHURCH! one of of the newest additions a love club (iykyk )

then the mysterious castle on the hill! rumor has it its not a club but super exclusive parties happen there and you would have to know a guy that knows a guy that knows the owner in order to get in otherwise dont even dream about it

and lastly the brand new :Club Haven! the newest competition in town owned by the Vatore siblings its fairly new but very exclusive and hard to get into but if you are looking for something new and fresh this is the "safe haven" for you

im waiting on tool to update so i can fix up the street but im gonna start on their interiors soon!

[folkbreeze]

this shell took me forever and i can't figure a floorplan for it so... have two pics of slightly different angles but with different lights (and one has trees, i made a lot of progress in between screenies as you can see)

[sofythesim]

Better Together: A base game compatible The Sims 4 save file created by 160+ simmers

Let me present to you the greatest The Sims 4 save file of all times: The Better Together Save File.

160+ talented builders put their blood, sweat and tears into rebuilding every single lot in the game, including apartments and holiday worlds. Completely base game compatible and functional.

Check out #TS4BetterTogether on all social platforms and the EA gallery to see every build and creator. This collab was created and hosted by sofythesim, simmerkhai and plummysims.

**Now updated with Growing Together/San Sequoia builds**

What's included in the save file? • 207 completely new residential, apartment and rental builds. • 73 community lots with a bunch of fun stuff and activities for your sims. • Builds on hidden lots like Sylvan Glade and the top of Mount Komorebi. • And a few new households for you to play with.

You don’t need any expansion pack at all to use this save file! It’s 100% free to play. You can download The Sims 4 for no cost on their official website.

To install this save file, click here (SFS). Or continue to read. (Psst. Here's a guide on how to install a save file)

Every The Sims 4 world and creator

Willow Creek

Content: • 16 residential lots • 1 park • 1 museum • 1 nightclub • 1 gym • 1 library • 1 hidden lot

Creators: simsomally, simmarysims, Theseptembersim, Sims_plumbob92, sim_dora, honeymaysims, SimBuildsByK, pandora.sims4, stephanyed_, mellowbegames, simmerkhai, aibuilder, simsimoye, natgamingxo, MaggieLaughs, ilyamberlyn09, itsKujaKat, pickapeachh, playsimswithdee, maysbat_

Oasis Springs

Content: • 17 residential lots • 1 park • 1 pool • 1 gym • 1 bar • 1 hidden lot

Creators: inspired.simmer, lhonna_sims, simlore4, sulsulmelli, DaisyDreamingSims, yohanna_sims, pandora.sims4, KevTheBuildr, Faymoonbuilds, gamesimms, axiisims, makaylaallaboutmeking_, simplysimhome, builtbyrafi, sellidionnesims, simpandas, tattooedsimmer, sims4ideasyt

Newcrest

Content: • 12 residential lots • 1 park • 1 library

Creators: simsopat, XOmiSimmer_, kaarysims, xocreatesims, Coki.Creative, simpleetierra, builtbyrafi, laursimming, inspired.simmer, Mahareette, Sims_plumbob92, simpleetierra, sim_dora, mayan.22

Magnolia Promenade

Content: • 4 retail lots

Creators: grenesims, _simnematography_gj_, JenBuilding24, Simster_Femke, TheSimsCreatives

Windenburg

Content: • 16 residential lots • 3 Windenburg specific lots • 3 cafés • 1 rental lot • 1 library • 1 pool • 1 museum

Creators: simsbyme_, m0ssysim, Its_trose, shannonbuilds_, Sims_plumbob92, simspiration, micahs.moon, pugglesimmer, irrelephantsims, thesimsweekendbuilder, pandora.sims4, fantasiassims, Annarx, luplayssims, Samitbuilds, sims4ideasyt, dannaidasim, poppy.simmer, brokenplumbob, micahs.moon, Mademoiselle.Sim, myaschmya, modifyincas, simmerkhai, Faymoonbuilds

San Myshuno

Content: • 21 apartments • 2 residential lots • 2 lounges • 1 karaoke bar • 1 bar • 1 gym • 1 park

Creators: annathisims, maysbat_, colorandspace_, ktnuki.sims, pyuppy.online, simspiration.iv, Samitbuilds, goebugyourself, NeuralNe22a, WoMinion18, sellidionnesims, llamasimsbuilder, pugglesimmer, itsKujaKat, claudiafox.simbuilds, megbuildsxx, simsbuild_inspiration, Cozy_Simmer, waaavysims, muhebuilds, starstruck.builds, Faymoonbuilds, sims4ideasyt, sosimspired, vix.sims, eryn_witha_y_, thejellybzcut, simsimoye, gaiena_sims

Forgotten Hollow

Content: • 5 residential lots

Creators: siranwitch_gaming, _king_lamb_, sims.erezkigal, simsworldbuilding, Luna_Sheepford

Brindleton Bay

Content: • 10 residential lots • 1 vet clinic • 1 park • 1 lounge • 1 bar • 1 generic lot

Creators: itsjulesthedane, bored.builder, simsssp, sulsulmelli, aibuilder, hylian_simmer, WoMinion18, simsomally, sim.smyrna, Gardenova_sims, plumlu_, starstruck.builds, plummysims, thejellybzcut, stassijsims4, marilyn_sims4

Del Sol Valley

Content: • 7 residential lots • 2 museums • 1 park • 1 lounge

Creators: vix.sims, waaavysims, kaarysims, Mademoiselle.sim, gardenova_sims, tattooedsimmer, arcangelofsims, sim.smyrna, Simster_Femke, kqhartx, plumbecki

StrangerVille

Content: • 9 residential lots • 1 bar • 1 library

Creators: natgamingxo, irrelephantsims, amanduhh.simstagram, simsworldbuilding, plumbecki, fantasiassims, CrackedKyber, m0ssysim, world_in_sims, RachelPedd, Symtherin

Sulani

Content: • 11 residential lots • 1 beach • 1 bar • 1 rental lot

Creators: housesforsims, mellowbegames, MaggieLaughs, kikoibuilds, sims4ideasyt, maysbat_, DaisyDreamingSims, Mini Simmer, its_trose, bb.sims4, nesimsie, Gabi_Simdesign, jack__sims4, catnyxcreations

Glimmerbrook

Content: • 4 residential lots • 1 bar • 1 hidden lot

Creators: sofythesim, gameswithphilly, eryn_witha_y_, kindaaanime, BeccaTownSims, gaiena_sims

Britechester

Content: • 6 university housings • 2 Foxbury/Ubrite commons • 2 residential lots • 1 library • 1 bar

Creators: aibuilder, witchingmermaid, michaelasimsyt, DaisyDreamingSims, Coki.Creative, mahareette, llamasimsbuilder, MissSimReno, bb.sims4, andyandysims, bored.builder, witchingmermaid, CrackedKyber

Evergreen Harbor

Content: • 7 residential lots • 4 apartments • 3 community spaces • 1 bar

Creators: ktnuki.sims, spice.n.sprinkles, itsjulesthedane, Cozy_Simmer, littlemotherlode, dannaidasim, plummysims, sims.erezkigal, poppy.simmer, witchingmermaid, sulsulsimsies, lazysimie, plumarisims, michaelasimsyt

Mt Komorebi

Content: • 7 residential lots • 4 rental lots • 2 hidden lots • 1 onsen bathhouse • 1 bar • 1 generic lot

Creators: pickapeachh, littlemotherlode, Simstanie, VirtualFairytales, lhonna_sims, KiwiSimsKate, sims_plumbob92, LunaJoy_Builds, Seaofsakura, playsimswithdee, Palakoslip, HutchPlays, owSimsters, simmer_indi, _simnematography_gj_, mini.simmer

Henford-on-Bagley

Content: • 8 residential lots • 1 rental lot • 1 park • 1 bar • 1 lounge

Creators: Lizzybuildssims, Annarx, plantsimgirl, sellidionnesims, _simnematography_gj_, thesimscrolls, goebugyourself, sarina_sims, tattooedsimmer, arcangelofsims, aceroladagamer, Jasly247_yt

Tartosa

Content: • 6 residential lots • 2 wedding venues • 1 rental lot

Creators: gaiena_sims, sofythesim, sims4ideasyt, MaggieLaughs, yohanna_sims, claudiafox.simbuilds, kaarysims, Sims_plumbob92

Moonwood Mill

Content: • 3 residential lots • 1 library • 1 bar

Creators: MelanieDrake_YT, simplysimhome, JenBuilding24, pugglesimmer, xogerardinesims

Copperdale

Content: • 6 residential lots • 2 libraries • 1 highschool • 1 auditorium • 1 thrift and bubble tea store • 1 park

Creators: XOmiSimmer_, megbuildsxx, ninaschmidtyt, simsaga_, plumbecki, create4sims, sarenades, pyuppy.online, honeymaysims, sofythesim, simsbylinea, sims4ideasyt

-Picture coming-

San Sequoia

Content: • 10 residential lots • 1 library • 1 recreation center

Creators: Sims_plumbob92, DaisyDreams1, plumbecki, Theseptembersim, sellidionne, pyuppie, Samitbuilds, sulsulmisiu, Gaiena, laursimming, sims4ideas, XOmiSimmer_

Granite Falls

Content: • 6 rental lots • 1 hidden lot

Creators: Simsathon_, tattooedsimmer, sellidionnesims, simsaga_, amanduhh.simstagram, simlore4, sarenades

Selvadorada

Content: • 4 rental lots • 1 park • 1 museum • 1 bar

Creators: TragicPlumbob, mayan.22, SimMojii, luplayssims, gloomydahlia, simpolcheeks, Claeriel

[sirenjose]

Thoughts about Mattias' Design Notes

"Ventriloquism" explains the "consonants" in Matthias' deducs 3 and 9.

The manor game designers being inspired by their "device design", but came to include Matthias himself after seeing him pursue "perfection" by playing the role expected of him...

Movable devices that have some way to talk (even if by pretending via ventriloquism) makes me think of Bonbon. Though he was made before the manor games...

There is also how the manor is seemingly responsible for making Louis and sending him back to Matthias...

Maybe a bit of a strange thought, but the Muse sculptures came to my mind too. They were also said to be "mechanisms" designed by Burke. From what we've seen so far, they don't move much or talk, but maybe they'll do more later in the main story...?

But besides that I wonder why else the manor games would need "movable devices"

As for the "perfection" bit, that makes me think of Hollow and his desire to "rebuild paradise", as "paradise" is essentially meant to be a "perfect" place.

With the role Hollow and Orpheus are trying make themselves out to be, they'd also be interested in "perfection". And with Hollow/Orpheus' desire for "vengeance", I'd imagine the idea of "getting stronger" was his first idea to achieve that perfection.

But for Matthias, "Louis" is the imagined "perfect" version of Matthias. Matthias just acts the way people expect him to. Orpheus also pretends in a way, considering what we know about him vs. how we see him act in the final game and in general.

I wonder if you could say Orpheus got the idea of the hallucinations from Matthias?

Matthias pretends to be Louis. Maybe this can be sort of like Frederick acting as Mary? Or Norton who we see holding a pickaxe pretending to be Fool's Gold and pretend to chase Alice?

Puppets are normally controlled via strings, though the Czernin's created "movable devices", so like the design notes say about the chess pieces in Matthias' essence, the Czernin's performance (+ ventriloquism) makes Louis seem alive and like it has a will of its own.

Orpheus in this case is like the puppetmaster, with the game participants being the puppets (especially with how in game they're shown with doll eyes). The participants are alive and thus capable of moving and talking and acting on their own, but Orpheus is the 1 manipulating and moving them into the places and roles he desires them to be in. He can also make them act differently from how they normally are (with the help of the drugs), or basically make them more extreme than they normally are.

But back to Orpheus himself being like Matthias in the way of acting out a different role than what he actually is. Orpheus in a way does act a different role based on people's perceptions. Specifically how he's viewed by the public due to him being a novelist.

In contrast, we know Orpheus' inner feelings are closer to what we see and hear from Hollow as well as how he acts as the manor owner/Nightmare.

In the final game he acts as if he's the son of the DeRoss couple. He acts as if the forest ranger wasn't his real father, as if Orpheus didn't have any part in the tragedy despite how we know from Bonbon's deductions he had been involved to a degree (at least by apparently stealing things from the manor for his real parents). He acts like he doesn't know Alice.

We don't know if he's truly forgotten or if he's only pretending, but this is still likely what he wants to believe in. Even in the present, after Time of Reunion, Orpheus believes in memories we know aren't the complete truth.

As we see in Matthias' Design Notes, the final line is appropriate. It's a "meticulously crafted illusion performance" that "became a lifelong, irrevocable delusion". Except now Alice wants to stop Orpheus, fix everything, and make everyone, including Orpheus, confront the truth.

[paperstorm]

thank you for the tags @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @nancygillianmvp @bonheur-cafe and @sznofthesticks! You're queued :)

-

TK strips methodically once the door is closed behind him and turns the water on. He stares at himself in the mirror and feels as if he’s looking at an ancient portrait of a distant relative instead – there’s some resemblance in the likeness that stares back at him with slightly parted lips and drooping features but there’s a haunted, hollow look behind his eyes and it doesn’t look like the reflection he used to recognize. He looks old and tired, dull like a flickering lightbulb on its last legs, worn out and flat like an overused tire with no treads left to speak of.

It isn’t the first time he’s seen such an empty look on his own face, it’s just the first time in a very long while. TK’s put so many things behind him, anchored them firmly in his past and slammed a door of steel and iron behind them so they can’t follow them into his new life. The only person here who knows the extent of his failures is his dad, and Owen rarely mentions it anymore. TK gave Carlos the middle school book report version but not more than that, and Carlos has never asked for further explanation. TK feels like a gate has been lifted and the ghosts that haunt his past are suddenly swirling around him, and maybe, he thinks as he balls his hands into fists and tries to shatter the mirror with his mind so he doesn’t have to face himself anymore, the gate was made of her.

Tk turns away from it. He steps into the shower, lathering soap into a dark blue bath puff until it’s bubbly and trying to scrub the spiders off his skin. They used to be such a familiar presence. Almost comforting, because they were predictable. It took TK so long and so much work to get rid of them.

Twice, he managed it. Twice he managed to pick himself up and bleed the poison from his system and rebuild. After he lost Carlos, TK’d spent a week terrified that they might come back and he might not be strong enough to resist them, or scrub himself clean a third time afterward. They never did and he was proud of that, even as he drowned in the soul-deep sorrow of lost love. But this is worse than that. Carlos was gone, but he wasn’t gone. The possibility of reconciliation was always floating in the distance, and TK could have reached for it sooner if his pride hadn’t set up so many roadblocks. This isn’t the same. He could reach for his mom but he would be reaching into a void that he won’t be given permission to enter. She didn’t come with him to California but she could have. She didn’t follow them permanently to Texas but she could have. TK can’t follow her wherever she’s gone to this time.

It strikes him as he roughly kneads shampoo into his hair that he’s already forgotten what her laughter sounds like. He can’t conjure the sound of it in his imagination, as much as he tries. He bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood and then spits it down the drain, watching as the water pooling around his feet is pink for a few seconds before it runs clear.

Tags under the cut

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos @tailoredshirt @goodways

@alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry @mooshkat @liminalmemories21

@chaotictarlos @lemonlyman-dotcom @whatsintheboxmh @inkweedandlizards @reasonandfaithinharmony

@never-blooms @sanjuwrites @orchidscript @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad

@jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @fallout-mars @honeybee-taskforce @vineofroses

@fitzherbertssmolder @safeashousespdf @eclectic-sassycoweyes @laelipoo

[astorythatwritesitself]

There Will Be Time

Fandom: Mass Effect

Rating: Gen

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Pairing: Thane Krios/Shepard

Additional tags: Prompt Fill, Memory Loss, Post-Reaper War.

Excerpt:

It’s been six months, since the war’s end. One, since the prognosis. ‘A matter of weeks,’ the doctor had said. 'Two or three months, if you’re very lucky.’ Adrian had taken it fairly well, all things considered. Vanished for a few hours, along the beach trails near their home, but there had been no tears when she returned. Hardly even a tremor in her voice, when she’d said: 'we always knew we were on borrowed time.’ Thane is simply grateful for each day that passes without incident.

Yeah, the AO3 version turned into a whole other thing lol. Original answer/draft is still up for posterity though, just no longer in the ship tag lol.

(Brief excerpt of The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, by T.S. Elliot)

'She could be wrong, siha-’ Thane starts. Starts, but the words catch in his throat as Adrian presses closer, arms tightening around his waist. Her lips brush his shoulder - or so he chooses to believe. He can’t bring himself to look, to see if she is crying.

‘You can rebuild a lot of things, but a brain’s pretty high up there in ‘experimental’,’ she replies, only the faintest of tremors in her voice. ‘I'd… always wondered. If it wouldn’t burn out fast, or break down - and that’s on its own, being around that much Reaper crap? If they were trying to indoctrinate me or anything…’

That’s as far as the conversation goes. The next day - week, ultimately - will be for shoring up what she’d prepared during her arrest, handling any other affairs. What remained of the night was simply to be enjoyed, to commit to memory all they could, before the chance passed by.

----

It's little things, at first. 

A misplaced item. More notes around the house - reminders of appointments, when to feed the fish, where things were. Tasks left undone. Dropping things, because her hands won't cooperate. Things that are easy enough to overlook - even laugh about, if it's a good day, things that could happen to anyone and mean nothing. He helps her clean up, she releases a statement that she is tired and done, and would like to enjoy some time with her husband, anyone looking for information can ask any of the other survivors of the war. 

Which is true enough.

That she's unable to completely recall the orders of events, or what even happened, isn't information the wider media needs.

----

There is still time, Thane tells himself, when he awakens to find Shepard still asleep. Some mornings he does get up - catch up on messages, let the others know how things stand. Sometimes he meditates, often he walks.

Sometimes, he writes, when it's too much to bear.

More often than not, though... he lingers. There is time, and he knows better, now, than to risk letting it slip away. Knows to enjoy the warm weight of her arm around his shoulders now, the soft, even sounds of her breath, and how lovely it is (all else aside), that she is able to sleep peacefully at last, old nightmares either forgotten or distant enough to no longer matter.  Things that will, yes, be only memory - but how often had he regretted every moment denied, with Irikah and Kolyat? Moments lost before he even knew they were there? 

Not again. 

---------

Four months along, and there are more notes, fewer models, more muddying of when something did or should happen. Longer pauses in conversation, where she struggles to find her words.

He asks (only partially from the doctor's suggestion) if she could share a poem with him - he loves hearing her recite, no two ever quite alike. Remembers from their time aboard the Normandy, the hazy warmth in her voice as the words flowed, swift and clear, her love for them sweeping him along even when they didn't translate so well.

The words do come. Slow and faltering and in a hollow, clipped tone - 

“And would it have been worth it, after all,

Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,

After the cups-

“No-" She shakes her head, biting her lip and drumming her fingers on her thigh.  "Wait, no that... that goes the other way around, doesn't it.”

Her voice trembles - breaks, just the slightest bit, on those last words.

"It's a long one, siha," Thane says. "You've stumbled on this one before, it's-" 

It's nothing to worry about, he wants to say, but can't. Adrian rests her head on his shoulder, eyes closed as if they could stop the tears trailing down her face. She's stumbled before, yes... but would that provoke such a reaction?

So, instead - he draws her close. Closes his eyes, focusing first on keeping his own voice steady as he picks up where she left off, then as she joins in, as he guides her through the rest. Better that, than leaving it silent and incomplete; and the shorter ones come to her quick as they ever have. 

----

He’s steeled himself as best as he can, to spend no time mourning now. Not while she's here, when there’s still more good days than bad. More days than they’d dreamt of having when they’d first met, more days than seemed possible, during the war.

A day like this, where Shepard is already awake, taking over the kitchen table with her latest ship model, and Thane almost believes that their future stretches out far and away, beyond anyone's predictions. Her hands are steady, and he can almost forgive the faint, burnt odor lingering in the air, because it means she’s remembered to eat on her own. He sits beside her, and they talk for a while - about Vega’s upcoming visit, the inaccuracies of the Normandy model strewn before her, Kolyat’s last message; and all the while, her words come without trouble, with no grasping or fumbling to recall this detail or that.

----

“We don’t have anything else going on today, right? I was thinking, maybe we could go to the beach,” Shepard says after a while, as she starts cleaning up her workspace. “It’s beautiful out there, today.”

Thane hums a brief agreement from where he stands, just behind where she sits, clearing up the last of the dishes of his meal. “That would be lovely, siha,” he replies. Sets the plate aside and turns, resting a hand on Adrian’s shoulder. Is about to say something, when she looks up at him, a faint and fretful half-smile on her lips.

“I think my translat-”

Her expression falters - confusion and then a slow, horrified comprehension.

( ’I think my translator just glitched. What did you call me?’ )

She grips his hand as if it were the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. He leans down, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head, all the while reminding himself, there will be time to mourn later, there is time together now.

But gods, it's growing short.

[softlyapocalytpic]

I feel like I remember a post going around a while ago about the inherent tragedy of Fallout 4 and the anti-climax that is Finding Shaun and- I just can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t.

(Going under a cut because this post got away from me LMAO)

It’s a tragedy. Your son is a cold horrific monster of a man who looks at people as experiments over being people. He’s egotistical to the point of thinking of himself as somehow larger than life- not quite godly, but something more adjacent to that- because of his control over life. *Because of how they groomed him to be. He was never allowed to be a “normal” kid. The Shaun we meet is doomed, hopeless, and it’s… heartbreaking. That’s your son and.

And he’s dead. He dies no matter what faction you choose. There’s no chance for true reconciliation.

(*There’s something to say about the parallels between Shaun and Maxson as characters that I’ve talked about to others in the past but still sticks with me. Not the post for it necessarily, but I wanted to mention it.)

For me personally, the ending of Fallout 4 wasn’t victorious, it was hollow. Now, part of that is definitely influenced by what I was going through at the time, but it has stuck with me how the only lights of hope I felt were… well it was Deacon. He made it less empty. Made it feel like it meant something good.

I didn’t like pushing the button though. I thought about all the shit that could’ve taken from Institute and used for the wasteland for something good. Thought about Shaun. Thought about how I couldn’t truly say goodbye to him. Felt like I was playing out the motions, and that fucking slideshow did nothing to help the hollowness.

It’s not victorious. But then we keep going anyway. There is still work to be done. And there’s companions to keep you company, to make the world a little brighter.

And Jesus Christ I love that fucking game. I love the sandbox and I love the way that when it hits? It fucking hits.

And guess what! Fallout 3? Fallout 76? Also fucking tragedies.

Sure, Broken Steel brings the LW back from the dead, but Lone died even if Lone isn’t “dead”. The slideshow still plays. You wake up and suddenly aren’t dead, but you should be. You should be. You, a nineteen year old kid were tasked with being a martyr. Sarah is pissed off when you ask her to do it. It should be you in the eyes of the narrative. You should be the one bearing the weight of martyrdom. Follow in your Father’s footsteps.

Fallout 76? I… your nuking the Appalachia repeatedly. Everything is gone by 2277. The bright future meant to rejuvenate the Wasteland ends up destroying it. Idfk what else there is to say on that front.

And these are just… the main Bethesda titles. 1, 2, and NV are arguably in the same boat but there’s a bit more in the sense that… well for those ones it’s much more about the “you’ve won, but at what cost?”. In the original Fallout, and let’s say you take the (I think more popular route) of talking to the Master rather than fighting him: you watch someone realize the weight of the atrocities they’ve committed, realize they had no purpose, and then kill himself and everyone there after you personally have gone through actually psychic hell to approach him. Then, you get kicked out of your only home you’ve ever known!

Fallout 2? You home is decimated, your people traumatized, and you must rebuild it from the ground up. You defeated the Enclave, but they took something from you that can’t be replaced or forgotten.

New Vegas… god there’s so much there and there’s another point I want to make to this post- make I can make it feed into this but- the Mojave gets ravaged by war. No matter who wins, atrocities will continue to have been done and to be committed. There’s deadly forces on the horizon who don’t give a SHIT about this petty war and the fucking dumb politics of these major powers. It will hit any faction hard and unmercifully. And there was still a war that consumed an entire land. So companion has a truly “happy” end. They’re all scarred and broken and have to make peace with the path they’ve chosen. People win, but they don’t win, y’know?

And I wish- as much as I love these tragedies- I wish there was more… hope. I wish that the world of Fallout allowed the brightness to shine through a little brighter. To allow the people who try to rebuild into something new to be more successful, to be allowed to take the narrative into their hands, bECAUSE HOLY FUCK DOES THIS DARK ASS WORLD HAVE SO MUCH MORE HOPE THEN ITS EVER GIVEN CREDIT FOR.

Begin Again is a rallying cry for me. The end of Lonesome Road, if you spare Ulysses, is a rebellion against the fucking cycle of violence and hatred. You want to BUILD something. Create rather than just regurgitate the old world into something more twisted than it’s corpse.

Surviving the purifier? Rebelling against the notion that you must die, that you must be a martyr, taking your life into your own hands? Watching a source of clean water be handed out for free and spread across the Wastes? Fucking! Breathing new life into Harold and so he breathes new life into the Earth?

Living even though you’ve lost all your family? Getting a new one in the people who follow you? Helping people rebuild the Commonwealth after it’s been terrorized and destroyed? Leaving this world stronger and safer then when you came into it?

Honestly- this post got away from me. @persephotea got me in my Fallout 4 thoughts (of which I have so many and they’re always trying to burst out of me) and I got to thinking about what I try to write about in my fics. Hope. Hope, hope, hope.

I choose a kinder Fallout world not because I’m trying to soften the edges, but because I want to believe that humanity has such an ability to be kind if it chooses to. That a world ravaged by destruction would CHOOSE kindness and growth. That despite all the darkness and selfishness, people would choose to Begin Again.

It’s all a fucking tragedy, but that’s only if the cycle continues. We can change it. We can end it. Just gotta choose to do it.

If you got this far, thank you for reading my tired thoughts and please please please share yours. I want to hear your thoughts so bad. Okay okay, I’ll post now.

[sailorshadzter]

finding happiness.

inspired by a prompt list

She stands in the center of the broken room, stained-glass window shards littering the floor at her feet. 

For many reasons, she’s never expected to return to this place, to ever stand in this room again- even if it no longer looked like the room she once knew. It is different, utterly destroyed, the blue sky open above her from where the roof caved in. Gone was the Iron Throne, melted to a puddle that she can see when she turns the other way, but she chooses to continue forward. That throne meant nothing to her now. 

Where the beautiful windows once stood, there is nothing but wide open space, the remnants of the town the only sight she can see from where she can stand. From below she can hear the voices crying, those calling out to find the loved ones they were still missing, the sound of it all breaking her heart. The wind whips past, reminding her of that time in the moon door, but somehow there’s no fear of falling. Not anymore. 

“Sansa?” 

She turns at the familiar voice, a wane smile curving on her lips at the sight of the man standing there. He shaved his face clean once more, his dark curls clean and secured at the back of his head in a knot; this was the man she recalls from every dark night, the man who erased all of her fears, the man who saved her in more ways than just one. “I wondered where you had gone off to,” he continues, closing the gap between them, though he longs to draw her just a little further from the broken edge of the room. They’ve spent the last few days here in King’s Landing, the hours long and hollow, the aftermath of this war far worse than all of the rest. Like her, he hears the cries from down below and it sickens him to his very core. 

“I wanted to see things for myself,” she admits, softly, casting her blue eyes around the room, the ghosts within all reaching for her at once. She shivers and when she feels the touch to her hand, it is not a ghost at all, but it is Jon. “Tyrion says the rebuilding will begin at once,” she goes on after she’s let out a long breath. Jon nods, but does not release her hand; that makes her happy. “That’s what they deserve,” softer still, turning ever so slightly so she might look again out past the broken panes of stained-glass, to where down below they hear the wailing of a child. Jon’s first ruling had been to ensure the rebuilding of King’s Landing at once, all the while providing shelter for the commonfolk through the buildings that remained standing, as well as tents provided by the many Houses of Westeros. It would take time, but soon enough the people of King’s Landing would have homes to return to. 

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, grief darkening his eyes. He’s not forgotten what it’s taken to get here. His one wish was that things could have been different, that the people of King’s Landing did not have to suffer the consequences of a war that meant nothing to them. In the end, Daenerys and Cersei both had to be stopped, it was true, and he feels no remorse for the blood he spilt in this very room… But the innocents of the realm, they did not deserve to suffer because of a power struggle. He can only hope that from his reign he can please them and ensure they know he will not be the King they are used to having. He can only hope to give them hope once more, just as he’s given it to her. 

He smiles then, taking in the sight of her, the warm feel of her hand in his bringing him comfort. She’s lovely in her black gown, her furs left behind, but still yet every in a Northern Queen, every inch a Stark. It was a long time coming, but King’s Landing would finally have their beautiful Stark Queen, but she would walk on the arm of a Northern born Targaryen King, rather than the once golden prince of Lannister blood. “What is it?” She asks, coming closer, noticing his stare. 

Jon can’t help but to draw her in, his other arm sneaking around her waist. No longer would they ever have to hide the affection they felt for each other, instead, he could love her openly, he could love her loudly, he could love her proudly, as he’s always wanted to do. “I was just admiring your beauty,” he admits with a grin and she’s blushing crimson beneath his gaze, a soft laugh tumbling free from her rosy lips. Pulling his hand from hers, he cannot help but to touch the curve of her cheek, her skin like silk beneath his palm, his thumb tenderly stroking her smiling lips. The road to this place, to this moment was a long, arduous one, the path carved by grief and love, war and hope. But in the end, they’d found their way. 

When he leans in to kiss her, she’s already waiting, knowing that from this moment on, they would only find happiness.

[sasaofastora]

Happy Halloween folks!

Fledermaus Hill (40x30) - Park

Part of my Rebuilding the World project! You can find all my builds by searching CmdrWheatley on the gallery. Builds in this series are all cc free, and don’t forget to have the moveobjects on cheat active before placing.

[thesims4lesbian]

Lupa was in fact very nice. And so was Warya who I also met.

The longer I stayed in the werewolfs home, the less I wanted to leave. The less I wanted to leave Rieka, especially...

((cc and animations/poses are not mine))

[crazy-lazy-elder-sims]

-THE VATORE SIBLINGS-

my makeover of the Vatore's follows closely with my forgotten hollow rebuild and its new story, which you can read the full story bellow under the cut

for the design it self i made Lilith a fighter that goes out and fights the Strauds, Caleb is the night club owner that runs the place and keeps people safe.

they don't really hide their vampire features and they both only drink blood from willing humans. Lilith drinks directly from humans while her brother keeps a vial of donated blood around his neck to drink from.

as always i didn't touch their faces or features.

anyway i will be posting close ups and outfits soon

the story of forgotten hollow :

my story for forgotten hollow is that it was founded by a count called vladislaus straud who built a town that's mostly ruled by cathedrals run by his "sons" then descendants later on, history states that after the founding of the town a terrible plague swept over the place killing everyone and the town became a ghost town called forgotten hollow.

after 500 years new descendants of the old Count appeared and took over, they turned the town around by renovating the historical cathedrals into the most successful Exclusive Nightlife Hub now owned by the Strauds historical family.

that's the story if you are not a vampire however,

To a vampire " the plague" was The count killing everyone because they suspected him and his spawns of vampirism they were about to burn his castle after they had already gotten to his spawns and he retaliated by turning the town into a ghost town.

he spent half a millennium building back his power, and now he and his new spawns have set up this nightlife town as a facade to be a trap for humans to become either food or spawn to keep growing the Counts power.

until the Count's spawns made a mistake, two humans escaped, the Vatore siblings barely made it out alive, and thought they were safe back home, until the Count himself appeared one night to end them but he was angry and reckless, he left when he thought they were dead but they turned to vampires instead. Lilith and Caleb now aware of his evil schemes swore to save as many people as they can so they wont fall into this trap they fell into.

they then set up a rival nightclub that was actually a safe house, Lilith would go out and fight the Straud spawns and bring dazed drunk humans that were under the Straud spell back to the safe house run by Caleb that kept them protected and safe until they snapped out of it.

[celestialorcas]

The Outer Archives

Spoilers ahead for all of The Outer Wilds, all of Echos of The Eye DLC, and all of The Magnus Archives

So played outer wilds a couple years back, and its remained as my favorite game of all time, so I got to thinking recently, which locations in outer wilds can be mapped onto different fears from The Magnus Archives which i also loved! (Not as much as outer wilds but not really a fair comparison-) So today I got to work and made this:

First obvious thing before I go into my reasoning's for each is Timber Hearth is clearly missing, thats just cause I could not think of a link to any of the fears, it really is just a chill place- Anyway my reasoning's (some are obvious but bear with me) The Sun: Represents the end, I thought about maybe The Extinction, but thats more the end of humanity with everything else carrying on, the sun I think perfectly represents the end cause it's supernovae-ing alongside the rest of the universe, everything is ending and the sun serves as a manifestation of that. The Ember Twin: All those little cramped caves systems slowly filling up with sand that you can get buried and crushed in The Ash Twin: It's the centre of the whole loop, its the ash twin project after all, everything that happens in the game can be attributed to the ash twin project, something out of your control till the end that youre stuck in The Attlerock: Esker..... Its a tiny moon thats easy to miss, with the character who in game is forgotten about a lot by the rest of the Hearthians, a quiet space for them to be alone and forgotten Brittle Hollow and Hollow's Lantern: The whole thing is slowly falling apart and being destroyed, catalysed by the big fire rocks from Hollow's Lantern being chucked at it, Represents collapse and destruction Giant's Deep: Big water planet, open space, tornados that can throw you from a vast ocean planet, into the infinite reaches of space. The depths that Gabbro swears they say a sea monster in, very vast. Dark Bramble: I can see how people could think of The Dark for this, the anglerfish being blind and hidden out of sight, but I think corruption fits better for the "planet" itself, it wasnt always Dark Bramble after all, it was once an ice planet that dark bramble corrupted and grew on until it took over its host, shattering it. The Interloper: The cause of the slaughter of this games Nomai clan, senseless destruction and killing just by chance (The Trickster from Doctor Who/SJA would have a field day with this) The Quantum Moon: Constantly changing from what you expect it to be and what it should look like. It's surface is different depending on what planet it orbits, and everything on it moves around, the world is not right, its the spiral The Stranger (EOTE): Not because they are named the same, thats just an amazing coincidence. The whole thing is unknown, no one you know has been there, all has an air of unease and creepiness to it, the burnt out reels destroying/changing information, the whole time I was there, despite the peaceful river (until...y'know-) and calm vibes, under the surface theres something just not quite right Eye of the Universe: Again, not because of the name, another great coincidence, or i guess not really a coincidence. The eye sees everything and constantly outputs a signal calling people to it, it rebuilds a new world based on the experiences of the hatchling, what the hatchling has seen. Just like the eye in the magnus archives, it takes all the experiences of the main character (Hatchling/Jon) and makes something new built upon them (New universe/The apocalypse). Love to hear peoples thoughts and where they would place things differently (especially if yall have an idea as for Timber Hearth-)

[whumpflash]

Penumbra: Unless

for Angstpril, Day 22: Shadow of Former Self

cw: war/death mentions, beating, referenced broken bones

prev ///// masterlist ///// next

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There was much to be done within the central city, even after Cerus was taken care of. Rebuild, relieve, reform. It was months before Tansy started looking toward home, and the journey there would be longer still, but eventually, as the summer came to a close, they turned to the road. It was time to do their own rebuilding.

The first sight of the coast filled them with a mixture of joy and sadness. How young they'd been, the last time they'd seen the ocean. A glance over their shoulder as they ran, blurred by tears.

Gone were the days when they'd spend all afternoon on their father's fishing boat, when they'd come home to their mother cooking, when they'd chase their siblings through the tide, splashing and looking for seashells.

Their grief for everything that could never be again wasn't as sharp as it had once been, now replaced with something hollow. An emptiness in their chest that could never be filled.

Tansy still had family in the little coastal village; people to come home to, which was more than some of their fellow soldiers could say. Their great-uncle's house was smaller than they'd remembered, but wasn't that how it always was with childhood memories?

Now that the war was over, it was time to try and settle down and remember how life carried on. Realize how many slow, small moments there really were in a day, so much more noticeable when you weren't just trying to stay alive, so much more beautiful.

Great-Uncle Aldon had managed to keep a fishing boat safely out of the reach of the war, and despite being well into his seventies, tended to the nets day in and out. Tansy mostly kept to the house; mending torn nets, cooking, and keeping things tidy. They weren't ready to climb aboard the vessel without their father just yet.

One evening, a fortnight or two from the day they'd returned, they picked up a parcel of clams from the market; a meal they were looking forward to, as the central city had been too far inland to receive any fresh seafood. It was dusk when they started the long walk back to the house, and a freezing, late-fall rain had begun. Tansy's cloak was heavy, but not waterproof, and they did their best to keep under the awnings of the merchants.

As they passed the shipyard, they paused to watch half-constructed vessels bob in the stormy water. Beautiful as it was dangerous. Were they not eager to get home and cook dinner, they would've found a better spot to watch the rolling of the dark waves.

They started off, but a figure near the ships caught their eye; stick-thin, in soaked clothing that didn't look at all appropriate for the weather, struggling under the weight of several wooden planks.

Odd. Most of the shipwrights knew the climate well, and wouldn't be caught in a storm without adequate layers. They watched as the figure stumbled, scattering their heavy load across the pier. Tansy started forward to help them, but another dock worker got there first.

A shock ran through them as the worker began to beat the person on the ground, shouting words that were drowned out by the storm. For a moment, Tansy was frozen in place. They'd never seen cruelty such as this, not in their village. Had the war really changed the people so drastically?

"Stop!" they shouted, their clam dinner forgotten as they charged out into the rain. The worker froze, looking more surprised than angry as Tansy moved to stand in front of the fallen figure.

"Leave them alone."

The worker shook their head, turning to leave. "Too cold out for this shite. Get a move on! Weather's no excuse." The last command seemed directed at the person on the ground, but the worker didn't wait for acknowledgement, disappearing into the dockside shack.

Tansy turned to kneel beside the person, who was still curled tightly on the ground, hands balled into fists, covering their face protectively. With a start, they realized what they'd assumed to be gloves were actually the person's bare hands, black as coal and crooked, like the bones had been broken and healed improperly—

"Cerus?" they said, barely able to hear their own voice above the rainfall. The man on the ground seemed to catch the name anyway, flinching away like it was a weapon Tansy wielded.

Oh gods, it was him. The Shadow King, the tyrant, trembling before them on the ground. The catalyst of the war, the thief who'd stolen Tansy's family— they wanted to run, forget they'd ever seen him here, but they couldn't bring themselves to turn away.

Because it was clear to them now that the Council had indeed sentenced Cerus to death. A slow, drawn-out death, to be carried out in silence, with no ceremony, no recognition. Tansy doubted the fallen ruler would live through the winter… unless he had help.

And who would help him? they thought, even as they knelt. Who would help him, if I turned my back?

"Cerus," they said again, taking a great effort to shape their tone into something resembling gentleness. A single gray eye peered warily at them from beneath dark hair. Someone had cut it, they realized, and not with a careful hand. 

Tansy sighed. "Do you have a place away from the rain?"

The response was a rattling breath, an almost inaudible, "I have nothing."

Those words, hollow and hopeless, pierced Tansy like an arrow. In that instant, it didn't matter who he was, who he'd been. In that instant, Cerus was just another human who was suffering, and Tansy was so tired of watching people suffer.

"Then come with me," Tansy said, holding out their hand. 

Without a word, perhaps because he thought he had no choice but to obey, perhaps out of desperate hope that someone cared whether he lived or died, Cerus took it.

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@whumpwillow @rabbitdrabbles @kixngiggles

[aufaits]

prologue — a feeling you thought you'd forgotten.

[ A SONG FROM YOUR CHILDHOOD STARTS PLAYING, A MELODY THAT REMINDS YOU OF A TIME WHEN YOU WERE A HAPPY CHILD — ONCE. ]

Think of it like this: homes in suburban Atlanta have a sort of universality to them. A prototype of the American sprawl, later able to transform, under the hands of film crews into Texas, or Washington D.C., or, in the case of some particularly pervasive Netflix shows, into nostalgia for the 80s that never were, the emotion given tangible form.

You, Vivien, flit through that nostalgia, eyes held fast shut. Oh, don't worry. You've done trips like this before, felt the dips in your stomach as you hovered over ice-churned waters, reminded yourself that the only way out is through, clear as a sword's strike. But other trips did not have this— memory as a house as a memory, the ghosts of late spring wrapping themselves around you with all the grace of lazy cats.

Self dislocates from body, mind drifts through that house, the quiet hours of afternoon when it is–was-is your domain and yours alone. Your finger runs along the dial of the radio, pop hits fading in lieu of college radio, soft synths blossoming around you. There is the you that was, curled up amidst golden beams, watching the dust drift through them, waiting for the house to fill once again.

And there is the you that is now, watching from the outside and inside, eyes unblinking, mouth dry. The song pervades, knife pick against skull, the crooning of the singers a faint buzz against the understanding that this home is no more.

The foundation stands still, of course. The walls haven't moved. But this place can only exist in memory now. Vivien, you of the waters, you of the stone removed, find yourself shocked to alertness at the thought, hands scrabbling against arm rests, eyes flung wide, the soft patter of drums falling away. There is only the you that is now, only the blade of crisp light pressing against windows, cutting through the gentle blanket of memory.

Nostalgia plays a funny game — feed her and find yourself hollow too.

[ A FIDGETABLE, ANALOG ITEM, CAN BE KNIFEY THOUGH YOU BETTER HAVE A GOOD REASON FOR IT TO BE ]

Your hand reaches for your neck, grasping for the necklace that you still imagine sits there, on occasion. It was a gift from college graduation, a good luck knot twined in gold, the small box wrapped in red and pressed into your hand by your father.

The necklace is gone now, tucked away in that same box, nestled in your bag of things. For a time, you tried to wear it, tried to keep it close, bunch each time that you reached up to grab it, the customary need to fiddle blossoming, a sense of bile rose up in your stomach instead. This was in the— the After, as you call it to yourself, the word and fact taking on all traits of a blade.

Instead, you fiddle at your ring, a solid claudaugh ring turned upside down. Up and down it slides on your finger, never quite rubbing raw against the skin, but occasionally creeping close. It happens like a dream, like something rote. It happens without thinking.

There's a weight around your neck that isn't present, and a ring wound fast that feels like nothing. In the stillness of yourself, the future feels like both things. In it is terror, the sense of measuring yourself up and coming short, but there is satisfaction as well, certainty crisp on the tongue. There is being and nothingness, wound together on a moëbius string, your own thoughts tracing that infinite path. When you fall to sleep, you barely realize that it has come to you.

[ A PLACE OF GREAT PERSONAL SIGNIFICANCE, BE THAT POSITIVE OR NEGATIVE ]

For a moment, there's a memory of water— your grad school apartment, crystalizing around you, sticky with summer, freezing with winter. It tastes like your life forming around you, a crysallis dissolving you to nothing and rebuilding you from the start.

It smells like maliase and hope, like the crackle of sparks and the freeze-dried tinge of microwavable meals. It feels like a certain quality of light, the compressed beams clipping clean through you.

You cannot help but think of this place and that as the same, the whole of you caught in the lap of waves on shore, the tides of your life changing direction once again.

You ebb and you flow, you rise and you fall, and again and again you find the correct current. Perhaps you are not the lady of the waters, not Vivane as your mother named you, but the waters still claim you as home.

In the end, they wear through everything, cut clean to the bone of truth. What else can you do but follow them?

Feet find ground, hands wrap around your bag. The memory clears, your smile curves.

This moment could not be anything but itself, something new placed gently in your hands. You hope that you do not break it.

> © holly warburton, return trip.