#there are no lakes in my new area how will i survive

[bornonthelake]

in memoriam

rip zion + lakes you will be missed

[comingdownwithme]

Can we see more of Jeff and Toby also is Ben and Ej I’m the comic of not what are your headcanons for them??

Jeff and Toby have always been my favs since I was a kid, so you'll definitely be seeing more of them!

As for the comic, the whole thing is more of snippets and peeks into my interpretation of Creepypasta instead of a solid, sequential storyline, so not a whole lot is concrete, and I won't be posting a whole, fleshed out comic since it's very time consuming. I'm definitely sure Ben and EJ would show up though, especially during Jeff's directionless wanderings

Anyways, Woe! Headcanons be upon ye!

Eyeless Jack

Jack Nyras is a man just trying to survive after he had been left disabled and transformed from putting his trust in the wrong people. Even as the demon contorts and shapes it's host as if it were trying to fit itself it's host's own flesh, Jack remains conscious, all too aware of what is happening to him and the dizzying, maddening hunger that drives him forward

He's gone from a 5'6"-ish guy to a whole 6 foot something of a man after the incident. The demon disfigured and stretched his body to "make itself at home", though it isn't too obvious with his shitty posture and what he wears

He used to go to medschool and was about to graduate as a Valedictorian.

He carries a roll of surgical knives in his hoodie pocket! (My best friend gave me this idea :)))

Burn scars over his eyes! Hot tar does that to you ig, and it harmed him enough to last despite his new form's accelerated regeneration

He's still sane enough to have morals (or at least, he believes he's sane enough), so though he isn't exactly picky, he prefers kidneys since his victims would usually survive with only one, and he strikes at night when his "patients" are sleeping

He's good friends with Jeff (even if neither would admit it, ESPECIALLY not Jeff). They first started out as seeing each other as nothing more than "easy body disposal" and "free meal provider", but each time they bump into each other, they've began to get along past their perceived usefulness

BEN drowned

An angry, vindictive spirit that's been freed from the confines of where he had been sealed. Even still, he can't remember his own face, so despite his newfound freedom, he had taken the form of the model he had been using during his digital imprisonment to manifest. He now wanders the world, vengeful and curious, yearning for a peace he might never get.

His face is stuck between 2 expressions: the calm, neutral look of the elegy of emptiness (which is his usual), or a more expressive- albeit heavily distorted face- during moments of heightened emotion like anger, sadness, etc. Nothing changes from his expression, not even his mouth moves.

The latter is also a reference to how fans usually drew Ben, along with just... .EXE characters in general-

His clothes are always soggy :(

He can manipulate and change his physical form, but the binary scarred into on his calf stays no matter what he does, whether that be changing forms entirely or removing the limb from his "model", in which case the binary moves elsewhere.

Ben is telepathic. He can choose who can understand him at any given moment, whether it be a group, a pair, or a singular person. Everyone else outside of the conversation could hear only gargling, wheezing and coughing.

Avoids areas where water is usually found in large amounts. I.e, lakes, rivers, bathrooms, etc.

[stxrslut]

THE OUTER BANKS X HUNGER GAMES AU

new and improved hunger games au introduction post!

lets start with the basics!

what are the significant events in this au?

the first significant event in this au is the 75th hunger games (the quarter quell). It is significant as it is what brings all of the characters together for the first time and is where a lot of my fics are set. the next significant event is obviously the rebellion, and alike is where a lot of my fics are set!

what kind of fics do you write for this au?

the fics that I write for this au don’t really make up one huge story like a novel might. instead the fics I write are just little snippets of the events that happen, often reflecting little, often romantic moments between the characters going through the bigger plot lines.

and obviously as I write for different characters, some of the fics may not match up if you were to try and place them on a storyline.

do any of the characters from the original hunger games exist in this au?

yes! Annie, Cinna, Clove, Cato, Snow, Boggs, Coin, effie, haymitch

what are the useful things to know about this au?

this au follows the movies in the sense that district 4 tributes are all reaped, rather than careers like they would be following the books.

the rebellion is first inspired right before the 75th games, in the period where the tributes are desperately trying to stop the quarter quell from happening. (much less touching then the katniss / rue narrative, but unfortunately I couldn’t find a way to make that work)

once the tributes win their games, they are given the opportunity to live in the capitol, all of the characters take it up.

in the quarter quell, instead of two tributes being picked form the winners of each district, four are picked, two male tributes and two female tributes.

how similar is this au to canon hunger games?

this au is similar! whilst some of the canon characters do not exist, it still follows the same pattern of, 75th games happen, tributes are taken to d13 and rebellion takes place.

what characters do you write for in this au?

in a romantic sense, in this au I write for all of the same people I write for normally, but obviously the hunger games version of them!

HUNGER GAMES AU CHARACTERS

JJ Maybank. district 4.

jj won the 68th games at 16 years old. the arena was set out as a desert with scattered lakes around.

he is known for his combat and survival skills. he fought his way into winning. he used a machete knife retrieved from the cornucopia as his main weapon, his signature move being to essentially gut the other tributes. it was a violent tactic but it worked.

he became known for his charm and charisma after moving to the capitol. the ladies are all over him though he’s never taken too much interest, a one night stand here and there satisfying him enough until he finds someone perfect.

John B Routlege. district 4.

john b won the 69th games at 17 years old. the arena was set out like an abandoned mine shaft, very cold and very few areas had light.

he won his games using his extremely good survival tactics. he set basic traps around him and then mostly hid, using the few recourses he retrieved from the cornucopia to survive the three days that the games went on for.

when moved to the capitol, he reunited with his childhood best friend jj maybank. they became an iconic duo of sorts, always seen together, a pair of heartbreakers to the public. two of the most liked victors in the whole of the capitol.

Pope Heyward. district 3.

pope won the 66th games at 15 years old. his arena consisted of multiple sharp, jagged rocked mountains, white rapid rivers and waterfalls.

he used natural recourses to create electricity, setting it up near the water so that it would react and kill any of the tributes who would unsuspectingly go near.

he lives on the outskirts of the Capitol, much more rarely seen than the other tributes. he’s smug and snarky, though he has enough charm to make people like him.

Rafe Cameron. district 1.

Rafe volunteered for and won the 65th hunger games at 15. his arena was a tropical forest with waterfalls and caves all over.

he was trained well, he used pure combat skills, channeling all of his rage into winning the games. he was determined to prove his doubtful family wrong.

he’s known within the capitol to be quite the ladies man, always attending the big invite only parties and walking out with a different girl hanging from his arm. though there’s another, more angry side of him that’s also known to be seen from time to time. he’s one of the most known victors, loved by all and yet also strangely feared.

Kiara Carrera. district 2.

Kiara volunteered for and won the 71st games at 17 years old. the arena was made to be a big thriving forest, full of poisons and mutts.

she used her training from the district 2 academy to simply fight her way through the games, winning only shortly after the cornucopia.

she lives a life of luxury in the capitol, often showing off her inherently “bitchy” personality in public, she may be less liked but she sure knows how to win some games.

Sarah Cameron. district 1.

Sarah was pushed into volunteering for and won the 72nd games at 18 years old. her arena was filled with snowy ice glaciers.

she used her training from the academy to make herself a shelter and wait out the games, though she was occasionally seen shooting down other contestants with the wooden spears she’d fashioned from her spare firewood.

in the capitol she’s seen as mysterious, only ever making appearances when she absolutely needs to. the other tributes have met her and are on friendly terms with her, though she never goes out of her way to spend time with anyone but herself.

Cleo. district 13.

cleo was born and raised in district 13, and once the revolution begins, is one of the people to help the tributes of the 75th games.

cleo was one of the only children to survive the plague in 13, her parents died during it. she was taken in by boggs, who taught her everything she knows about survival.

she has a tough exterior and she doesn’t trust coin, she is in fact known to be one of the only people in the district that coin is just a little bit scared of. despite this, she is there for the people, and is not afraid to fight for what is right when she needs to. even if what she is fighting for is as simple as demanding a child like primrose everdeen to be able to keep her cat.

thg!reader. district 4.

you won the 73rd hunger games at 18. your arena was built as a ruined city, full of rubble and abandoned amenities.

you used your own innocent demeanour to trick the other tributes into trusting you. once you had them in a good position you’d throw a knife or stab them in the leg or arm with a knife coated in nightlock. you’d make it seem like an accident, keeping them to protect you for as long as you could. by the time they would think about betraying you, the poison running through their blood would kill them already.

you become well known in the capitol, loved by all because of your sweet personality. the other tributes also take a fascination to you, though none of them go further than a little flirty conversation from time to time. little do they know that the third quarter quell is approaching, and they’re all about to be thrown right into the games that they all thought they’d never experience again…

ADDITIONAL CHARACTERS

ward cameron : won the games young and quickly rose up the rankings, by the time rafe and sarah were made to compete he had secured a permanent job as presidential advisor for snow himself, subsequently placing incredible pressure on his two children’s shoulders to live up to him

big john routlege : climbed up the ladder as quickly as he could the moment that his son won the games. he valued nothing but fame and status. he became a game maker, earning his sons hatred as he now undergoes the horrors that he designs.

barry : after winning his games for district one young, he decided to stop caring. he lived a life on the edge of the capitol, selling contraband to peacekeepers and learning the ways of the dangerous people. only for his life to change ever so slightly, when he is made to mentor district ones rafe cameron.

[live-love-be-unique]

Weekend Away

Summary: A weekend away camping with your friend Soap leads to the start of a new relationship.

My submission for @glitterypirateduck #CoDVacationMode challenge. The prompts I used were:

12. Camping

32. Friends to lovers

34. First time seeing each other naked

Parings: Soap x f reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut

It had been a rare weekend of downtime after you had finished the last mission and after an offhand comment that you were going to do absolutely nothing except crash into your bed and move only just enough so that people didn’t mistake you for being dead, Soap had declared you to be his camping partner. When you agreed to join Soap on a camping trip you didn’t realize how thorough his preparation was. It started with his sending you a joint Spotify playlist “we’ll be needing good road trip music bonnie” along with a detailed list of your favorite road trip and camping snacks as well as a list of “things you need to pack to survive”.

The day the two of you set off, Gaz left you with some of his words of wisdom: “If you hear banjos, clench your buttcheeks!”

“Really Gaz? You’re referencing Deliverance now? If I get killed in some back woods somewhere I hope you fall out of another helicopter” You snap as Gaz smirks. That little shit.

You jumped as a deep Scottish accent sounded from behind you “Relax bonnie, if I wanted to kill you I wouldn’t tell anyone where we were going” Soap smirked as you got into his jeep.

“Not comforting MacTavish!” He laughed and pulled out of the parking spot “you haven’t told me where you’re dragging me yet”

“Relax, would you! You’re going to love it”

For the next three hours of driving you had been treated to Soap belting out his favorite songs, which mostly seemed like The Proclaimers on repeat and drumming on the steering wheel, both he and the radio at full volume.

“…When I wake up, well, I know I’m gonna be

I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you…”

You were almost ready to kick him out of the moving vehicle and head back to base when Soap pulled onto a dirt track. He stopped the car near the small forest and jumped out.

“We made it? Finally!”

“Not quite lass”

“What do you mean ‘not quite’? We’ve been driving for hours”

“Little bit of a hike to get there but I promise it’s worth it”

He’d of course been lying when he called it a ‘little bit of a hike’. You’d been walking for ages, enjoying the scenery of the area, you did have to admit it was a beautiful spot. You watched a flock of birds fly over the lake, not watching where you were walking and crashed straight into Soap’s back.

“Careful there bonnie” he chuckled as his arms braced you from falling flat on your face.

“Thanks” you muttered. Blushing, you extracted yourself from Soap’s arms and brushed yourself off.

“We’re here!” He announced with a flourish, throwing his arms out with a giant grin on his face. You look around and see what Soap is gesturing towards. You look in awe at the ruins of a castle, the crumbling stone walls overgrown with vines as nature slowly took over throughout the years “I found it when I was out here last and you were the first person I knew who I had to show this too”

“Me?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from the ruins.

“You love all those stories set in castles with ladies and knights and stuff so I just thought you might want to explore it and…” Soap rambled, suddenly nervous.

“I love it!..Wait, we’re camping here?!” You interrupted him, almost squealing with excitement.

“That was the plan, I thought we could set up the tent over by that wall there” he spotted you taking your camera out of your bag “I can set up the tent if you want to take a look around” he chuckled as you started admiring the sights through the lense of your camera.

You’d been exploring and photographing everything you could set your eyes on when you turned back to thank Soap for bringing you here but the words died in your mouth when you spotted Soap setting up the tent you’d be sleeping in tonight.

Dressed in a t-shirt and cargos, you watched as his arms flexed and moved as he pulled a support rope taut. You knew he was attractive, and might have been sporting a little bit of a crush, but as he lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat off his face you’re pretty sure he could ask you to run away with him and you’d happily go.

“Why don’t you take a picture” he smirked childishly “it’ll last longer”

“Maybe I can take a picture of you like one of my French girls” you laugh back.

“Come on you numpty, we need firewood” he bumped your shoulder with his as he passed by.

The two of you worked quietly setting up the remainder of your little camping spot, the setting sun casting shadows through the stone window frame that would have once held a beautiful stained glass.

Soap lit the campfire while you started preparing your food, pleasantly surprised Soap had packed everything to make hamburgers, he laughed at your little happy smile “couldn’t drag you somewhere and not pack your favorite food”

You leaned back against your rucksack, relaxing into the quiet night air, you could get used to this you realize, beautiful scenery, no technology, sharing burgers and beers with Soap as you told each other funny stories about your friends and family and the rest of your team.

Soap stopped his current story and glanced up at the sky “come here” he gestured for you to sit next to him. You made your way over to his side as he dragged you down to lay next to him, both of your heads resting on a fallen log “look up”

You turned your eyes towards the night sky and gasped in awe, the entire sky was full of stars, you could see every single constellation.

“It’s beautiful” you whisper “I wish I could stay here forever”

“Told you you’d love it here” you glance over and meet Soap’s eye.

You stared into his eyes for what seemed like hours before you felt him shuffling closer until he was nose to nose with you. You’re not sure who made the first move, perhaps you both did, but Soap’s lips found yours as his hand moved from his beer to the back of your head, holding you closer to him.

You yelped in surprise against his lips as his other arm wound around your waist and pulled you onto his lap “I’ve got you bonnie” he smirked as he left open mouth kisses along your jaw and down your neck, his hand resting underneath you jaw, tilting your head to allow him more access to your neck. You throw your head back as a giggle erupts from your throat as Soap’s lips find a ticklish spot on your neck, you feel him smile against your skin as he continues his journey down your throat.

You reach down and take hold of Soap’s shirt and pull it over his head, his lips leaving your skin for the briefest moment as the shirt is pulled over his face. He leans forward and rests his forehead against yours as you catch your breath, blue eyes shining in the light of the campfire.

Soap curses as the boom of thunder breaks through the air, looking up at the sky as the first large raindrops land on your skin, he maneuvers you in his arms and carries you to the tent.

Setting you down in front of him, he wraps his fingers in your hair and pulls you against his lips, kissing you. His hands find the buttons of your shirt and makes quick work of them before he slides the fabric down over your arms and throws it over his shoulder.

The wind howled outside the shelter of your tent as you slowly undress each other, eyes and fingers tracing over each newly exposed area of skin, committing every single thing to memory “fuck lass, are you trying to kill me?” Soap smirked as his eyes practically devoured you. Standing in front of each other, dressed only in your underwear, both suddenly overwhelmed by the thought of being naked in front of each other for the first time.

Soap laid you down on the mattress he’d brought for the base of the tent “Do you want me to stop?” He asked as he positioned himself between your legs, resting on his forearms as he hovered over you.

“No” you whisper, fingers trailing through the coarse hair covering his chest. Soap shivered as your nails drag their way down his chest towards the waistband of his boxers “do you want me to, stop I mean?”

“If you stop I think might die” he claimed dramatically.

“Is that so?” You grin.

“I’d perish” Soap grins playfully back down at you “slowly and painfully in fact”

“Well, we can’t have that”

He leans back and kneels between your legs as lean forward, hands dragging his boxers down over his hips, Soap’s hands cover yours helping to remove the boxers down off his legs as your eyes wander over the length of his body, you unconsciously lick your lips as your eyes roam over his cock and he grins as your eyes meet his again “see something you like?” that cocky little shit.

Soap wraps his arms around you and lifts you up onto his lap as skilled hands make quick work of undoing your bra and throwing it to the other side of the tent. As he lays you back down you raise your hands to cover yourself, suddenly shy under the heat of his gaze.

“Come on now” he smiles softly “don’t tell me you’re going shy on me” You find yourself smiling back as you slowly lower your hands. His lips find yours “lift your hips for me love” he mutters against your lips.

“Christ” he mutters under his breath as his eyes roam over you “can’t tell you how many times if imagined you like this”

“You have?”

“Mhmm, seeing you now, definitely didn’t do justice to the real thing” you feel yourself blushing as you reach between your bodies to guide him towards your pussy.

“Soap…please” you grind yourself against the head of his cock.

“Please what love?” Soap grins, knowing he has you exactly where he wants you.

“Are you going to fuck me or what?” You sass.

He finally pushes into you with a single thrust “there she is” he smirks as you gasp. His forehead rests against yours as his crystalline blue eyes watch over every emotion that crosses your face. He hikes your thighs over his hips as his thrusts become more forceful, hands scrambling to feel every inch of exposed skin they can.

He lays kisses across your chest, blindly finding your nipple as his fingers graze your clit. Your thrust grow more frantic as you both begin to approach your climax. You cling to his shoulders, crying out his name Johnny as you as you come. Soap follows soon after, his own orgasm hitting him with a final thrust. He comes with a grunt as he collapses on top of you, you hold him tightly as you catch your breath. You hear yourself whimper as he pulls out of you, he wraps his arms around you tightly as he buries his face against your neck.

The next morning you find yourself curled into Soap’s chest as he lays on his back, one leg thrown over his and your head resting on his chest. Your stomach rumbling with hunger “What do you want to eat?” He asks, his morning voice made thicker by his accent.

You pretend to think, resting your chin in your arms over his chest “bacon and eggs”

“Oh aye, my girl wants bacon and eggs?” His arms tighten around you, holding you close. My girl, he calls you like it’s the most natural thing in the world “and what do I get in return?” His eyes glint as he smiles.

“Round two?”

Soap rolls the two of you over, laughing as he starts to lay kisses all over your face and neck “works for me”

[project-sekai-facts]

Mizuki's trained You Gotta Come, Or Else I’ll Be Sad! 4* card contains multiple references to previous Mizuki cards.

Firstly, if you look closely at three of the bubbles in the foreground, you will notice they have card art from three of Mizuki's previous event banners. The cards are their untrained Feelings That I've Realised 4* from Secret Distance, untrained What Gave Me Courage 4* from And Now, the Ribbon Is Tied, and untrained The Words Only I Can Convey 4* from Our Escape for Survival.

A bit harder to spot due to the water effect, but Mizuki's reflection in their You Gotta Come, Or Else I’ll Be Sad! card has a different facial expression to them. This might be a callback to their trained Unyielding Obsession 3* card, which did the same thing.

Going back to the first point, you might've noticed that there's no reference to Mizuki's card from their second unit event, My Footprints, Your Destination. However, there actually might a reference to the event, just in a different way to how the other events were referenced. Take note of the fact the card is set underwater. While obviously this is a reference to the new lake area in the Empty SEKAI, in this specific card, it might also be a reference to the song Lower, which was the song for the Footprints event. The in-game jacket and the teaser for the song both show a mobile phone sinking underwater.

Partial submission by @ace-and-the-rpg-horrors

[peachesofteal]

Who wants to read the first like 1.4k of the winter ghoap fic even though it has absolutely no ghoap in it?

Winter in the mountains can be cruel. 

This is something you’ve always known, even as a child. You were raised with it. Chose to return to it after school, decided to make a go of it, of a life here, as an adult. You knew what you were getting yourself into, long cold winters that felt both bleak and promising, unblemished blankets of snow possessing the ability to be stunning, while also lethal. Winters were dangerous, silent killers that left corpses in their wake and no amount of lupine or paintbrushes, glacier fed lakes or springtime moose calves could make up for the hell that winter wrought. Winter brings most living things to the knife’s edge of survival, forcing most to bow beneath the weight of its fury, backs breaking with the burden of just existing in a below freezing environment. 

Although, there are some who do more than survive the cold, violent stretch of winter. There are predators who thrive. 

“You closin’?” Your coworker, the new one, asks from where she’s settled across the dark wood bar, two amber Budweiser bottles empty in front her idle hands, eyes wandering to guys posted up by the loneliest pool table in fifty square miles. 

“I am.” She casts the one window in the entire place a surreptitious glance, fingers peeling away at a label. It’s snowing, has been for hours, flakes fat and wet, fluffy enough that the density of the snow on the ground is light, but dangerous, as it hides the real risk underneath; packed snow sitting with a slick sheen of ice on top. 

“You still trying to make it over Fall River pass tonight?” You nod. 

“Yeah. Supposed to see my brother and his new baby this weekend.” 

“Fall River? Is that even open right now?” Andy, a regular who lives a few streets over from you, chimes in, twisting an empty rocks glass in his fist. You pull the bottle of Jameson from the rail and tip it vertical, honey brown liquid sloshing like a wave until his glass is halfway full, and he gives you a flirty kind of smile, the same one he’s been giving you for a year now. Yeeesh.

“It is. I could go around, but it just takes too long. And it’s Friday. I’m not trying to be stuck on the highway with ski traffic and the tourists in their rental cars.” You complain, and they both commiserate your opinion. Weekend traffic is brutal, especially in the winter. Driving in hazardous conditions is considered to be a talent more than an innate ability here, and people often overestimate their aptitude for it, causing crashes and delays that get the highway shut down for hours, or even days, at times. You shrug. “I’ve had my snow tires on for weeks. Might as well get some use out of them.” Andy snorts. 

“Like you haven’t been gettin’ good use out of them? First real snow was before Halloween this year.” You nod. He’s not wrong. You did get dumped on two weeks before the end of October, twenty-three inches piling up within two days, before half the area was even ready for it. You throw him a polite smile, one that you hope reads like ‘okay thanks for the concern, we’re done now’ and he sighs. “Well, drive safe.” 

Fall River pass, it turns out, is not open. It’s closed by the time you split off from the interstate and start the windy, switch-backed trek in your jeep, flashing orange and yellow lights dotting the top of a barricade just barely visible through the speckled snow flying by in your headlights. 

Fuck. You could have sworn the DOT website said it was open. You take a deep breath, quelling the anxiety that roils your stomach. Okay. Not the end of the world. There’s another road. A less maintained road, but… you’ll be fine. You’ve driven in worse. 

The other road, a sharp, narrow, desolate path that cuts through a large swath of unmanaged forest just outside the national park, is easy at first. You’ve been driving the same jeep for years, a 2007 two door Wrangler, and you know how it handles like the back of your hand. With snow tires, it could pretty much cut through anything, even unplowed, fire watch roads like this one. 

Which is why, after the first few miles, your nerves fully settle, and you allow yourself to relax a little bit behind the wheel, easing the jeep across the dips and slicks in the road as you cautiously build speed, snow falling fast through night, growing thicker the higher you travel into wilderness territory, and the farther you left modern civilization behind. 

An hour creeps by, and then two. Long enough that you’ve now realized you’re the only one using this road, fresh snow blanketing the woods around you, topography and vegetation starting to change as you encroach on what you assume must be eleven thousand feet. You’ve seen this road on google maps once, or twice maybe, having noted it for future travel just in case of a situation like this. It travels perpendicular to Fall River, and eventually meets another, one that must be similar, on the other side of the range. The secondary road is one that takes you along the ridge, and then down, you’re pretty sure, although you can’t be one hundred percent certain, because you lost cell reception before you even turned off from Fall River.

Still, won’t hurt to check and see if you have this area downloaded. 

You pull your phone from the center console, thumbing at the screen, allowing your eyes to linger too long without looking back up through the windshield. No one else is out here. It’s not like you need to worry about oncoming traffic. The little SOS insignia blinks at the top corner, and you tap on the map icon, hoping it will bring up your geo location so you can glance at the satellite map of the area. 

You’re so fixated watching the little circle of death try to load, that by the time you look up and see the tree laying across the road, it’s far too late. You do the first thing you were always taught not to do in winter conditions, and slam on the brake, slamming the pedal to floor, heart rate sky rocketing as you panic and lose total control of the jeep. You spin, shoulders and chest jamming against the seatbelt, headlights flashing off into the woods, illuminating an endlessly dark web of trees, bark and branch scratching across the paint as you careen off the road, tipping too precariously onto two wheels and then rolling. 

Time, your life, stands completely still for a moment. You see every individual fiber of the pine needles, every uniquely designed snowflake, every single droplet of blood that floats away from your face and through midair as you crash through the forest, your grasp on consciousness slipping farther and farther away as you’re jostled around, the jeep finally coming to a stop on its side, your head cracked against the driver’s window, stars and lights spawning out across your vision, headlights finally blinking out completely, leaving you in the dark. Your head spins like you’re still rolling, and the only sound in the dead silent snow is your harsh breathing, frantic terror bubbling up through your throat as pain surges through your body. 

It's freezing, but you feel surprisingly warm. 

You’re going to die out here. No one knows you took this road, you don’t have service, by the time they find you, it’ll be too late. You’ll be a bled out, frozen corpse, long gone and- 

You lose your train of thought quickly. Everything starts to fracture, fissures forming in your consciousness, part of you already losing the battle to the inevitable, black pulling over your eyes like a knit hat, lungs heaving just a little harder with each breath. 

Sleep. You could just close your eyes. Close your eyes, and sleep. 

Light sweeps across the ground, flashing across your face. You think, if you were truly with it, in your right mind, you’d think it was too bright. You’d say it was blinding. 

But you can’t formulate anything of the sort, mind too busy slipping away, falling into an inky black pool, just barely on the verge when you feel a gloved hand on your skin, the lilt of an accent on the wind. 

Sleep. 

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Video Games Part 10

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)  

Alien: So the story is you are trapped on an island with blood sucking monsters you must destroy to survive? Human: Yup. Alien: That sounds like a wonderful game! Alien: How could that possibly be bad? Human: *Sigh* Human: Yeah, one really must wonder. ---------------------

Human: Why aren’t you playing your new game? Alien: I got on and started to play, but then everyone just kept shouting at me because I didn’t know how to play. Human: Well that sounds sus. -----------------------

Alien: Why does that human have a chainsaw for an arm? Human: He had to cut off his hand when it got possessed by a demon. Alien: Wouldn’t a demonic possession taken over the entire body and not just the hand? Human: Such is the power of Bruce Campbell. ----------------------

Alien: I have done it! Alien: I have created the most devious, most complicated, most diabolical fortress known to your kind! Alien: None shall collect my- Human: *Runs around the base, uses jetpack to jump three blocks, steals power core, then exits level* Alien: …………… Human: If it makes you feel any better the front of the fort looked co- Alien SHSH! Alien: I don’t need your sympathy. ---------------------

Alien: Why are these grey extraterrestrials kidnapping humans with gravity beams? Human: For experimentation. Alien: Phfft, amateurs. Human: What, you think you could do better? Alien: All we had to do was say there were hot singles in the area and then send a meeting location. Human:……….. Human: Oh my god…. ---------------------

Alien: If no one is ever dead in this series how is this “Mortal” combat? Human: It’s best not to think that deeply into it. ---------------------

Alien: What is the hype for this game? Alien: Is it now just a copy of that other game “No human’s sky?” Human: It looks prettier. Alien: But it is the same gameplay. Human: But prettier. Alien: How can humans be so easily distracted? Human: You are overestimating our intelligence. Human: They literally sell us a new phone each year and just change the year it was made in. -----------------------

Alien: I am so excited for this next game. Alien: I had no idea there were two of your spider people. Human: Oh do I have some news for you…… -----------------------

Alien: Haven’t there been three games prior? Human: There have. Alien: And each time you’ve beaten back hell? Human: Kinda, yeah. Alien: Then why is there a fourth game? Human: You never really beat hell; just push it back to the starting line. Alien: Sounds like Jericho. -------------------------

Alien: Why are there games for farming, power washing, cleaning, and corpse removal? Human: They’re just fun. Alien: And yet your room is in dire need of all of those things. -------------------------

Alien: Is this a golf game? Human: Yes. Alien: At what level do you get to cheat on your companion? Human: What? Alien: I heard that this was a large part of golf culture on your world. -------------------------

Alien: The door is locked and I do not have a key. Human: You have a gun don’t you? Alien: Yes, why? Human: Really? Alien: *pauses to think* Alien: *Points gun at lock and blows it off hinges* Alien: Ooooooooooooooooooooooh. ------------------------

Alien: Why are your streets so dangerous? Alien: Street fighting, streets of raging, street racer? Alien: Surely your streets are not that dangerous. Human: Clearly you’ve never driven through Salt Lake City in rush hour. ------------------------

Alien: What happens if you become alone in this dark? Human: Trust me, you don’t want to know.

[sinon36]

Echoes of Salvation: Negotiations (Part II). Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x afab reader

Part I

Warnings: none, really, just some casual fluff and domestic stuff, maybe some grammar error and misspellings.

Enjoy!

The story starts after the dash.

-

Synopsis:

It’s been five years since the outbreak happened. Five years ago, in London, a terrorist group released a virus in the city center. 24 hours later, people start developing flu-like symptoms. 48 hours later the infected turn into mindless ghouls biting healthy people and spreading the infection. Everything happened so fast. The army came in and tried to contain the outbreak but soon chaos engulfed the whole country. You learn that similar attacks happened all over the world: New York, Beijing, Moscow, Athens, and Tokyo. City by city, the whole world is ending.

You survived thanks to your mid-twenties life crisis that made you move into a cottage house by the lake in Lake District. The land you own is surrounded by thick lush forest that offers perfect cover for the tiny brick house that is your safe haven. With a water source close, off-the-grid energy, and a garden full of plants, fruit trees chickens, and whatnot, you live a comfortable life tucked away, far from the dangers of the cities. You are so far out of reach that in the past years you only saw a handful of infected, survivors that traveled far to escape and distant neighbours that got infected in the towns nearby. You can’t remember the last time you saw another person. But you are used to your loneliness. The end of the world brought only a mild inconvenience, now that you can no longer order things online and watch movies on Netflix or HBO. But with a library full of books, a homestead to keep you active and your Border Collie companion, Bellamy, life is good. Life is peaceful.

One day, while you are out fishing, a masked man, armed to the teeth and carrying a young girl in his arms threatens to kill you if you don’t provide him with medicine for his sick daughter.           

-

Once you get back inside you notice the little girl fast asleep on the couch a peaceful look on her face. Bellamy keeps closely to your side not letting you move without following. The masked brute stands a few paces away at the other end of the sofa, his eyes carefully scanning over his sleeping daughter. Once satisfied that she is comfortable he turns to you and gestures towards the kitchen and for you to follow him. You wait a few seconds and keep a healthy distance once you start following him. Once inside he points at the door and you shut it. You look around searching for a safe place for you to sit now that you’re trapped in here with him. You decide to sit on one of the chairs the one with your back to the wall. Bellamy lays at your feet eyes glued to him.

He leans against the wall opposite from you, arms crossed over his chest. He watches you, studies your face for a while. You try to appear nonchalant at his cold fixating glare, but your hair stands up, goose bumps forming on your skin. He clears his throat ‘I have a few more questions for you’ he says voice just as gruffy as before. ‘Like wise’ you quip from your seated position.

'Have you had run-ins with the infected?'

‘I haven't seen any for the past few months. and even before that they are rare and far in between. And to my knowledge there isn't any other person alive around this area.’ You answer as truthfully as you can.

'You're pretty isolated out here. No neighbours within a decent radius?'

‘Only the Johnsons, Neil and Margaret, they used to live about a half a mile down the lake bank. They were a retired couple.’ You reply a little sad.

'Used to?' he asks intrigued.

'Yeah. They died soon after the infection started spreading' you shudder, the image of Neil coming back to you in full force.

'How did they die?' his head lens to the side as if to take a better look at you.

‘I found Margaret dead in their garage throat ripped out. I'm guessing that Neil got infected when he went to the market in the nearby town. When he got home, he must have turned and killed his wife.’ You fumble with your hands picking at your nails and avoiding his sharp gaze.

'What about the husband? What happened to him?'

You dreaded this question. You take a deep breath to steady your quick heart and face downward in shame. 'I Killed him...' you say after some consideration. 'He attacked me and Bellamy and.... I had to...' you mumble your words not wanting to remember anymore of that terrible day.

He watches you intently, there's no sign of surprise on his face. 'You did what you had to do. There's no need to look shameful.' He seems understanding, but something about his look causes a chill to run down your spine. 'How did you do it?' He adds softly.

'The hatchet. I was out cutting wood for the stove.' you keep mumbling, a distant look on your face as you focus your eyes on spot on the table cloth.

'I see.' He says without any kind of judgment in his tone. You find it hard to look at him at this moment. 'You didn't hesitate.' He adds.

'I did. I acted out in fear more than anything.' you say lowly rubbing the back of your neck trying to rid yourself from the cold sweat taking over you.

He continues to observe you calmly, as if trying to understand you on a more fundamental level.

His expression changes slightly, becoming softer, less intimidating. 'Was it hard? Taking a life?'

'Yes.' You say looking straight into his eyes tone genuine. 'But I'll do it again if I have to.' you admit to him hinting that you are not as weak as he thinks you to be. You did manage to survive all this time alone and it wasn't all luck. You worked hard to build and improve the defence around your house and make it sustainable for a long period.

He notices your determination, and for a brief moment, he seems to respect it. 'I believe that you would, I’m counting on it' he says, voice still low. 'How did you survive on your own for so long?' he changes the subject having made his opinion of you on that matter.

'I learned how to farm. When I first move here six and a half years ago, I bought books on how grow vegetables and some medicinal herbs. Margaret was kind enough to show me how to grow chickens, I have a few in a coup behind the house' you motion with your head in that direction. 'In the back, there is a small plot of land with an orchard. Apples and cherries. I also invested in solar panels. I still have electricity and running water. Though on cloudy days the batteries half charge. I have to keep an eye on consumption.

He nods slowly, taking in the information you have shared with him. He seems to be taking mental notes of your capabilities as a homesteader. He speaks again, ’What did do before shit hit the fan?'

‘I am a licensed architect so it was easy to design everything around here, the doing was the harder part' you say proud of what you managed to achieve.

'An architect', he repeats in a low, amused voice, 'and you chose to live in the middle of nowhere?'

He pauses. 'What made you come this far out?'

'I wanted peace and a quiet place surrounded by nature. Cities were to crowded for my liking. I never felt at home there. But here' you look around you, 'here is perfect.'

You hear him let out a breath, seemingly agreeing with your statement and your choice of location.

He studies you for a few seconds, then says, 'You don’t have anyone else? Family? Parents?'

'No.' the answer is short and a far away look takes over you. that is a story from another time. 'Where did you come from?' you turn the attention on him rather than giving anymore information about yourself.

He hesitates for a moment as if deciding whether or not he should share anything about himself.

'I'm ex-military.' comes the final answer, spoken in his usual blunt manner.

'That much I figured' you nod towards his uniform. 'Is she your daughter?'

He nods without saying anything further. There's a strange tension coming from his body language. He seems to be on high alert. He clears his throat as if he needs a change of subject. 'You said you are an architect?' you raise an eyebrow at that 'Yes, why?'

'Are you any good?' He presses, not beating around the bush and being direct with his question.

'Um... as good as they come, I guess!?' you tell him not trying to appear humble.

'So, what is your specialty? Residential? Commercial? Industrial?' he asks very specific.

'Residencial, but I do have some knowledge of the rest. Why do you ask? You try to understand were the sudden interest in your carrier choices come from.

'Just curious.' He says casually, but something in his eyes suggests that he's interested in finding out more. 'And that cottage you're living in.' he points at your house. 'You designed it?'

'Yes' you say eying him suspiciously. His questions were awfully precise. But once again he changes the direction of your conversation wanting to know more about your house. He asks you about the house, the structure and the layout, how you keep warm, where do you get wood for the fireplace.

'You're pretty self-sufficient.’ He concludes.  ‘How often do you have to go out for supplies?' his question catches you by surprise. Ever since you saw the news about the outbreak you haven’t ventured anywhere close to civilization, afraid that you’d encounter infected and be ripped apart.  

'I haven't really left the property in the past year. The further I go is the lake for fishing. Most of what I own comes from the time when things were delivered to your door or post office. I used to buy items in bulk.' you shrug, it made more sense to you that way. ‘There was no reason for me to leave. Plus, there is a lot of work to do around here, animals to feed. Which reminds me of something…’ you say fixing him with a hard stare mirroring his own. He waits for you to continue.

'You'll have to pull your weight around here. Food and accommodation are not for free.' You set clear boundaries. You may be kind enough to let them stay, considering the threats he’d flung your way earlier, but you won’t be taking advantage of.

He sighs almost offended by what you said, ' I don't plan on freeloading.' He assures you. 'Good' you intend to hold him to his words. He grunts in acknowledgement before going on to speak, 'I hunt regularly, and I know my way around a gun. I'm capable of offering protection.' He says in a serious tone, almost like a pledge. His military training is showing.

'There is not much fighting to do around here, but I'll keep in mind.' you say with a chuckle. It'll be fun seeing him do household chores. You wonder if he'll keep the mask on while feeding the chickens or picking apples.

'I do have one last question.' He says, suddenly sounding more unsure of how to phrase it. You nod at him to go one whipping the smirk on your face and

'If our partnership is to work…’ he pauses seriousness taking over him like a heavy veil, ‘you will have to abide to my one rule.' You sit up a little straighter, your attention fully on him.

'My girl comes first. In a survival situation, every decision I make will rely on her safety. No negotiation.'

You nod your head in agreement. 'Got it. I'll try my best not to get in your way.' You promise tone filled with sincerity.

'Good.' That seems to conclude the interrogation. He seems to relax a bit, and his demeanour is less hostile than before. He rises to his feet and turns to walk to where his daughter lies on the sofa. You watch as he drops his gun and knife on the table and sits on the armchair guarding the sleeping girl.

You let them settle in while you busy yourself with chores. you go out to feed the livestock you keep, collect any fresh eggs, and tend to your garden. The sky begins to darken, wind picks up. you can faintly hear thunder cracks in the distance. It's going to rain tonight, you muse to yourself. You quickly finish your work outside making your way inside. Once in your living room you notice the absence of masked stranger. He is nowhere in the house. You put down the basket you filled with fresh vegetables on the kitchen table and approach the sofa. The little girl stirs awake and looks curiously at you.

'How are you feeling, darling?' you ask in a warm tone smiling gently at her. The little girl rubs her eyes, trying to get rid of the sleep in them. She then looks up at you once again with her adorable big eyes. ‘A bit tired’ she says before yawning.

'It's understandable, you went through a lot out there. What happened to you?' you ask pointing at her bandaged arm The little girl looks at you for a moment as if thinking what to tell you. 'I got hurt by a bad guy's dog...It bit me.' She tries to sound brave but you hear the quiver in her voice.

'Oh... that's awful. Would you let me take a look at it?' you say softly siting down on the couch next to her. ‘Yeah…’ she nods. She holds out her arm for you to take a look at.

On her arm, you can see the puncture marks. They don't look like a human bite mark and that makes you sigh in relief. They were telling the truth. But what worries you is the yellowish liquid oozing out of it. That and the fever indicate that the wound got infected. 'How long ago did that dog bite you?'

‘About three days ago...’ She says quietly. ‘...It hurts now more than before.’ her soft, innocent eyes are filled with concern, fear and worry. ‘...I feel hot...’ she added. 'Let's clean it and rebandage it, okay?'

'Okay' she says with a small, relieved smile. You fetch a med-kit and some disinfectant and begin to clean the wound. It's a bit irritated from the infection. She seems to be in good spirits despite the pain.

You try to comfort her by keeping her mind occupied with conversation while treating her wound.

'How old are you?' you ask her as you wipe her arm with some alcohol blowing a little over it to ease the burn. 'Nine!' she answers earnestly with a toothy smile as she looks up at you, still enduring the sting of the disinfectant. 'What's your name?' you ask remembering that you haven’t been properly introduced so far. 'Olivia' she says with a soft, cute smile. 'What's your name?'

You tell her. 'I haven't met anyone else with that name before' she says pensively. 'Well, we don't really meet many people anyway. Just infected.' she says with a sad sigh. 'Yeah, me either.'

You finish treating her wound and re-bandage it. A shiver runs through her little body causing her to tremble. ‘Are you cold?’ you ask, reaching your palm to her forehead. She is indeed a little feverish. ‘...A bit.’ She mumbles with a small shiver.

You stand up making your way toward a small closet where you keep some blankets. You pick a fluffy one and hand it to Olivia. 'Here you go, sweety'. She smiles brightly as she accepts the extra layer and buries herself in it. 'I'll go grab some firewood to get a fire started.' You announce heading for the door. Just as you reach for the door handle, the door opens and there stands the tall dark figure of the man, his hands full of firewood. 'Oh...' you say in surprise as you step aside making way for him to enter. Outside rain is pouring. He puts the wood in the fireplace and starts working on the fire. You close the door and watch in silence as he works. In no time a well-built fire heats the small house casting a warm glow from the fireplace. The shadows flicker on his face, the white mask adding a level of horror to the otherwise cozy scene.

‘Thanks,’ The little girl says softly to him, to which he only grunts in acknowledgement.

You quietly make your way to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. Bellamy lays on the kitchen floor quietly supervising the two strangers in your house through the open door. The dinner you had in mind this morning included fish but you were rudely interrupted, so you'll have to settle on chicken with a side of veggies. You work quietly and efficiently, casting a glance once every few minutes in the living room. You see Olivia tiredly saying something to the masked man and him leaning back, the chair reclined, arms crossed in front of his chest, watching you prepare dinner. Soon, everything is ready, and three plates of steaming food lay neatly on the kitchen table. You walk into the living room to invite your involuntary guests to dinner.

The tall man is sitting on the comfortable armchair, the little girl lays on the sofa next to him, propped up by the pillows. As you enter, they quiet down and stare at you. He slowly stands up, holding out a hand to the girl, but she swats at it and raises by herself with a huff. He says nothing and he follows you two the kitchen. For how big he is he his movements are fluid, calm and quiet. You can barely hear his footfalls.

The little girl sits next to her father and digs into her plate burning herself in the process. 'Take it easy, kid.' he gently admonishes her. It's a weird scene seeing him at the other end of your small table, still in full gear watching the two of you eat in silence. Earlier he was threatening to kill you, now he sits in your kitchen hands rested on his knees watching like a hawk and frozen like a statue. You cast a few glances at him wondering if he'll take the mask of to eat but he remains unmoving. Perhaps later when I’m not around you think to yourself.

You try subtly glancing at the masked man, now that you sit in awkward silence. The little girl eats hungrily, she seems to love the food. Her blue eyes are focused on her plate, but you notice that she also seems to sneak in a few glances at her father while she chews. They look at each other as if communicating solely with their eyes. Perhaps they could, after spending so much time together in situations that require keeping quiet and nonverbal communication. You’ve notice so far that he prefers gestures instead of words. Once she’s finished eating the girl turns to look at you 'Is there any dessert?' her question is followed by a small burp and a quiet laugh. Her father pumps his knee audibly into hers under the table and throws her a pointed look. ‘What?’ she feigns innocence. You chuckle at their antics watching them bicker.

'I have some cherry jam if you're interested.' you offer with a smile.

'A bit, please.' she replies. Olivia’s eyes are sparkling while her father looks as unimpressed as ever, while you prepare a few slices of homemade bread and spread jam on it. She sits closer to him whispering something in his ear. He bands down and you watch as he whispers back.

She seems to be a very attached child, and you wonder if that is a consequence of all the trauma she has gone through. His manners on the other hand seem a bit less harsh, slightly more relaxed, although his dark gaze still lingers on you as if his prepared for you to rush him or something.

After you finish eating you collect yours and Olivia's plates and dump them in the sink to wash them later. You then turn towards Olivia 'How about we get you out of those dirty clothes and give you a warm shower? you ask motioning upstairs were your bedroom and personal bathroom are. She looks at her father with a look of silent plea.

'Go on.' he says quietly with a nod. She gets up, excited to get a warm shower, the prospect of getting cleaned and changing clothes is too much for her to resist. Olivia runs up the stairs followed quickly by you, leaving the man alone to eat.

A few moments after you are out of sight, Simon takes off his balaclava and puts it on the chair where his daughter sat. he grabs the cutlery and just as he’s a bout to start cutting into the chicken he stops, feeling eyes on him. He casts his eyes at the door where your dog watches him curiously head tilted to the side and years pointed up. ‘What?’ he grunts in annoyance, and the dog gets up and leaves the room. With a sigh Simon starts eating, he can’t remember his last proper meal that didn’t involve expired cans of beans.

-   

Once in the bathroom, you turn on the shower and set the necessary water temperature before stepping out to wait for her. You go inside your bedroom searching for some clothes that will fit her better than what she has. Her soiled clothes go straight to the bin. They’ll need a proper wash for sure. You wait by the door for her to finish. You can hear her saying something to you through the cracked door.

'I don't remember the last time we had warm water' she says from behind the shower curtain. 'Were you on the road for a long time?' you inquire curious to know more about them, and now taking your chances with Olivia who is chattier than her father.

'Yeah...We've been on the move and camping for a while now in abandoned houses.' she replies as she turns off the shower and steps out. She is wrapped in the towel, her wet hair sticking to her forehead and with a shy, bashful look on her face to which you can't help but smile at.

'Come' you motion for her to go inside your bedroom 'let's get you dry.' She happily obliges and you both step into the bedroom.

You help her dry her hair and then you give her some privacy for her to change into the new clothes. By the time you are done, she is completely dry and wrapped in a cozy sweater and shorts. She looks really pretty now that she’s clean, her pixie cut framing her round face perfectly.

She smiles at you and then starts looking around the room. Your bed is made, covered in cream linen bedsheets, your bedside table is nicely decorated with some flowers from your garden, and your desk is neatly organized.

A few books and magazines laying at the corner of the desk that catch her attention. She walks closer looking at the covers curiously. You notice her looking at a particular magazine cover, it shows a woman holding some gardening tools and a child playing nearby.

'Do you like gardening?' you ask her.

She shrugs. 'I don't know', she answers sincerely. Right, if they were moving from place to place, they didn't have time for that. Probably didn’t have time for many other things. The realization dawns on you. Growing on the run in a world full of monsters must’ve been rough on her, not really being able to be a child, always on high alert.

'Maybe you can help me tomorrow in the garden if you feel better.' you offer kindly. 'That would be nice.' she replies earnestly, her warm smile lighting up her adorable face, making her look like a normal kid.

'Okay, for now, let's get you settled in the bedroom downstairs.'

'Alright… but can I ask you something?'' she looks up at you scuffling her feet, the wool socks you gave her sliding and pooling at her ankles. 'Sure thing.' You turn towards her and wait for her to voice her question. There's a brief pause in which she mulls over, seemingly struggling to form the right words.

Finally, she speaks, 'Why did you accept us in your house? She takes you by surprise. You pause, looking around, giving yourself time to think before you answer. 'It was the right thing to do. You needed help.' You say conviction in your tone.

She nods a little bit, still unsure. 'But you don't know us...you could have just closed the door on our faces. It happened before. People keep their things for themselves out there.' She arguments.

Your heart falls a little, your hopes in humanity crumbling. You knew people could be selfish at times, but now they really turned borderline savage and hysteric. 'People can be like that when they feel threatened.' you admit.

'But you aren't?' she follows up your statement with a question. You hesitate a bit, her eyes are focused solely on you, their innocence and naïveté are so endearing it somehow breaks your heart.

'I try not to be.' Your answer seems to have raised even more questions. She is curious to know more. 'Why? Why do you try not to be like the others?' she tilts her head as if trying to solve you like one does a riddle. 'I don't know. It just doesn't feel right to me. I think people should be kind or at the very least not violent with one another.' Your philosophical reply is met with more confusion. '..So why did you let us in?' she asks earnestly. She doesn't understand why someone like you would extend a warm generosity to perfect strangers who have nothing to offer when the same kindness is so scarce.

'Well, your father did threaten me with a gun.' you give her a more appropriate answer, something she understands better: violence. She sighs. Her adorable little face drops as she realizes that her father's actions might have put you in danger. 'Oh.' She remembers your earlier encounter, her father's less-than-friendly approach to strangers seems nothing new to her. ‘Right…. He's protective, he has to be.' she promptly excuses his actions, her expression a little troubled but at the same time, she seems to understand. 'But he's not a bad person' she quickly adds.

'I didn't say he was.' you remind her. She nods her head a little, still thinking about it all.

She is very smart, it is evident that she is much more aware of her surroundings than the average kid her age, you wonder what she would grow up to be, and what kind of adult she would turn out to be in such a harsh world. You imagine she will be a spitting image of her father, cold and ruthless.

You gently lead her down the stairs and to the guest bedroom ending your conversation. Once you reach downstairs you notice that her father is missing yet again. 'He's probably outside smoking. He never does it when I'm around though. He says it's bad for the lungs. But I don't understand why he keeps doing it' she confesses. She sounds more like an adult than a child. She has probably matured fast due to the circumstances, but that doesn't change the fact that she is still so young.

She still needs guidance, she still needs help figuring things out. Even as she speaks of his flaws, she is quick to excuse him and defend him, she loves him and looks up to him so much. It's almost like she sees him as two different people, one good and one not-so-good. You wonder if that is just her way of trying to cope with his actions.

'It's a bad habit people tend to have when they are stressed' you tell her. You remember your college years going to bars with colleagues and smoking a few cigarettes from your friends. But you never bought a packet.

'Do you get stressed?' she asks you, seemingly trying to see if you are the same as her father.

You take a few seconds to think it over, but her innocent, naïve gaze is hard to lie to.

'I do.' you confess, '…Sometimes. But I do other things to relieve the stress.'

She looks at you curiously, you can tell that she is looking to you for advice on how to deal with stress or she’s just looking for options for her father. 'What kind of things?' she asks, her voice filled with childlike wonder and curiosity.

'Well, gardening is a good way. Bellamy likes to help.' at the mention of her name, your companion leaves her guarding post by the fireplace and approaches the two of you. Olivia hides a little behind you at the sight of the dog. 'Don't worry, she won't bite you, I promise. She's really friendly with people. Look...' You crouch next to her and stretch your palm towards her nose. Bellamy starts wagging her tail eager to be petted.

Olivia watches you cautiously, but then sees how Bellamy loves to be petted and she can't help herself from being curious. She cautiously puts her soft little hand forward, hesitantly touching Bellamy on the cheek. The dog allows it, and soon Olivia warms up to her and starts petting her.

She smiles at you as she does that, then she speaks. '...Does she like me?' she whispers loudly as if the dog might understand her. 'I think she does' you playfully match her tone.

Olivia smiles even more, petting Bellamy even more enthusiastically. 'What kind is she?' she asks, showing a bit more enthusiasm in her voice. 'She's a Border Collie. She is a dog meant to herd sheep and keep guard from other animals.' '…She must be very smart.' Olivia says as she continues petting her, her voice is full of curiosity and admiration as she says that. 'She is' you say with a tone of love for your sole companion. ‘Dad told me that the dog that bite me was German Hepard. A guard dog.’ She informs you the way children do to prove they are just as knowledgeable as adults. ‘Shepherd. German Shepherd.’ You correct her with a small laugh. ‘That’s what I said.’ She counters with an incredulous look on her face at you for not taking her seriously.  

Olivia slowly yawns her eyes hooded with exhaustion. 'Let's get you in bed' You guide her towards the bed pulling the covers and allowing her to get in. Once she settles comfortably you put the back of your hand on her forehead checking for any signs of increased temperature. to your relief, her fever went down a little. It means that the pills still have an effect even after all these years. 'Good night' you whisper to her as her eyes flutter closed. She nods, tired from the day's events, and slowly closes her eyes as the sleep starts to take over her. '..Good night..' she whispers to you with a sleepy voice before she falls asleep.

You quietly sneak out of the room, closing her door softly behind you. You can still hear her soft snoring coming from inside the room, and a little smile forms on your face. You know she feels safe with you, and that warms your heart a little. You then head towards the kitchen, Bellamy in tow, only to discover that there are freshly washed dishes on the drying rack. You hum to yourself in appreciation. He may be a hulking terrifying military man but he has manners. You chuckle at the thought, despite the cold and aloof vibe he gives off, he still manages to surprise you with small gestures like these. It's clear that no matter how rough he seems, he does have a softer side to him.

Bellamy follows you next, and the two of you make your way outside. The rain has stopped, but there is still no sign of the man. He seems to like to disappear like a ghost. you scan the area around your garden, which is now damp with the fresh rain. Further outside, from the fence to the outside world, the darkness envelops everything. The light from your house is not strong enough to penetrate outside your garden. You take a deep breath the air humid and refreshing. The clouds hide the stars, you wish the sky was clear so you could map out the constellations with your finger, a favourite pastime of yours during the summer nights when the air is too stuffy for you to fall asleep.

After a while, the gate opens, and the masked man walks in, rifle slung on his shoulder, strap gripped tightly in his hand. The white skull on his face is the only thing that reflects enough light for you to make it out. A shiver runs down your back at his frightening attire. No wonder other people turned them down. He looks more like a serial killer from a horror movie than a human being. As he comes towards you, you can't help but wonder out loud 'Why the mask?' you watch him as he approaches you.

He doesn't respond to your question. Instead, he looks you up and down, studying you for a moment before he speaks with a firm voice. '..To hide my face.' He states in an obvious manner.

You stare at him dumbfounded the look on your face most likely betraying your confusion at his answer. He walks past you a small chuckle audible enough for you to catch it. He goes inside without another word. He's such a hardass... you think to yourself but you follow after him locking the door behind you. He looks around, most likely looking for his daughter. 'Olivia is asleep in the guestroom.' you point your thumb over your shoulder at the door. He stares at you silently which makes you really uncomfortable. 'You can make yourself comfortable here. My bedroom is upstairs...' you inform him awkwardly.

He stands there, not uttering a word, not even moving an inch, just looking at you, his eyes searching your skin and face, analysing your body and appearance with a prodding, cold, and distant gaze.

After what seems like an eternity, he finally utters a few words in response to you. '..That'll do..' he dismisses you with his usual monotonous and stern voice.

You nod and go up the stairs. once inside the room, you lock the door and sit on your bed. You stay like that for a while trying to comprehend today's events. You're unsure how things will play out between you and the masked man downstairs. You only hope that it won't interfere with the peaceful life you've built for yourself here. After what feels like hours have passed, you rise and start digging in your closet for pyjamas and a towel. You'll take a shower, hoping it will wash away the unease that seems to overtake you.

As you strip away your clothes and step into the shower, the warmth of the water fills your body as it washes away the cold. You let the hot water run over you for a while, allowing yourself to relax and forget the tension still lingering around you. After a few minutes, you step out and dry off by sliding your towel along your wet skin. Feeling refreshed and cleaner, you pull on a comfy set of pyjamas before returning to bed.

Once under the sheets, you close your eyes and try to fall asleep. Unlike Bellamy who snores peacefully on the rug next to your bed, you don't have such luck. You stare at the wooden ceiling above you. The house is dead quiet and you try to focus your hearing in hopes you'll catch something from outside your room. A few minutes pass when you can distinctly hear the faucet of the downstairs bathroom sink. You keep listening trying to imagine what he's doing. He's probably washing up, you think. The house creeks as the wind outside starts to blow. Soon after the rain starts once again, the sound of raindrops hitting your window finally lulls you to sleep.

[persephoneprice]

maybe this is silly but — do you have any thoughts on lucy grays specifically appalachian identity? I often think abt how the films erased the cultural / geographical specificities of district 12 even though it’s literally so so important to the books (it’s mentioned on page 2 of the hunger games) and idk I think it’s very interesting/ kinda funny and iconic that in response to that erasure suzanne collins literally made a character whose cultural identity cannot be erased without significantly altering her narrative function. On a meta textual level it’s also an interesting echo to the Capitol erasing lucy gray and then her being restored by the author - kinda? Idk I’m a huge appalachian folk nerd (it’s why I read tbosas lol) so I. Think abt it a lot

omg no this is not silly at all and i am so excited that someone wants to talk about Appalachian culture in the hunger games!! usually i feel like i’m just yelling my appalachian nonsense into the void. ps i love that you’re an appalachian folk nerd- are you also appalachian??

also let me apologize in advance- i started a new anxiety medicine and have felt awful and have had a lot of brain fog so it’s very possible that none of this makes sense or is even what you’re asking.

i ended up rambling a lot so i will put my actual answer under the cut:

the erasure of all the really appalachian things- especially the accents- in the trilogy will always devastate me. which i why i will go to my death defending rachel zegler against anyone who criticizes her accent in tbosas.

i love lucy gray and the covey because you absolutely can see so much appalachian and bluegrass influence in them and their lives- but the book makes it clear that they aren’t really district 12, therefore, not really appalachian.

i think in a lot of ways lucy gray really embodies an appalachian girl. she’s fun and strong and willing to do whatever it takes to survive. she’s not afraid of the woods or the creatures in it- she makes friends with the snakes. she loves music (my girl needs a banjo i will die on that hill) and brings that to her people. their performances are one of the few times that people in 12 really get to be carefree and have fun and it brings everyone together. music is such an important thing in appalachian culture and is something that always brings people together.

she as a double name and it’s important to address her using both- which is also a fairly common thing in appalachian culture, it’s rude to only refer to them by one of the names. (which is why if someone only calls her lucy i do not take their opinion on her character seriously at all.)

you can also see it in the way the covey are a family without all being really related and the way the older members take care of the younger ones. in the way they spend time at the lake fishing and swimming and collecting food from around the area to eat. in the clothes they wear. in their music (nothing you can take from me boot stomping version my beloved).

but i think the distraction that they aren’t really from district 12 and not really appalachian is important. you can see that in the way lucy gray describes the covey as outsiders in district 12. i think this is another way that you really see the influence of appalachian culture in district 12. it doesn’t matter how many similar traits that they have or how long they have lived there- they’re still outsiders to the people who have lived there their whole lives. they still aren’t fully trusted by the wider community because they’re different and not from around here.

i’ll stop rambling now because i think my brain fog is causing this to not make any sense but anyway thank you so much for sending this!!! i love talking about this!!! i would love to hear your thoughts as well

[captain-tch]

Friday the 13th (Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader)

After surviving the events of Terminus, the group stumble upon an abandoned camp site when searching for shelter. Their dream turns into a nightmare when they realise the reason why Camp Crystal Lake was truly abandoned. TW for the series: excessive gore, excessive violence, character deaths

part 1: welcome to camp crystal lake

A dull grey cloud stalked the group closely. Morale was low, despite having survived the recent traumatic events of Terminus. But even though they survived, they were homeless, bruised and broken, mere wanderers left to fend for themselves in an unforgiving world. They were vulnerable and exposed. The forest only provided so much protection, and after having the prison so brutally ripped from their grasp they desperately searched for somewhere new to sow their seeds.

It was a pure accident that they stumbled across the sign. Everyone had settled into a more open area of the woods, eager to rest tired aching feet. To pass the time, and to provide some entertainment, Daryl had been teaching you how to use his crossbow. He stood behind you, watching closely as you spied your target - an exposed area of wood in the bark, the veins coincidentally in the shape of a target. You held your breath, trying to line the sights as best you could with the centre. Realistically, you only wanted to land within the exposed bark, but you were a perfectionist and wanted it to fly straight into the bullseye.

Daryl leaned close, whispering in your ear. His breath tickled your skin, you had to repress the shudder. "Want to make it interesting?"

You turned your face towards him, your faces an inch apart. You inclined your head, a small smirk dancing on your lips. "What do you have in mind, Dixon?"

"If ya miss, yer picking up my next watch shift with Eugene." You snorted. You knew Daryl didn't necessarily dislike the man, but he wasn't comfortable with the man's intensity, or his ability to piss everyone off with just a few unfiltered words. There was no doubt that he was certainly a character.

With an eyebrow quirked, you smiled. "And what about if I hit it?"

Daryl muttered something so filthy in your ear that you couldn't hide your shock, nearly choking on the spit in your throat. Though you couldn't help but admit his words stirred something within you.

"Well that definitely is more than enough motivation." You winked at him, turning back into position. Daryl muttered a few corrections about your stance, his hands ghosting yours shoulders to help relax them. You inhaled, aiming for the circle of wood. On your exhale, you pressed the trigger. With crossed fingers you watch it fly through the trees, and for one split second you thought it would land it's target.

Until it whizzed straight past the tree and into the never ending space beyond.

You cursed, irritation coursing through you. Daryl huffed a laugh. "Maybe next time."

You flipped him off. You had to admit, you were more disappointed you couldn't smugly claim your prize than anything else.

"Oh don't worry Y/N," Rick appeared in your view, clapping you on the shoulder. "He ain't got nothin' on your right hook."

You smiled proudly, turning smugly in Daryl's direction. He shrugged it off, a small curve to his lips.

He gestured for you to follow him, beginning to traipse off into the woods. "C'mon, you're helping me look for it. I ain't losin' a good arrow because you can't shoot for shit."

Rolling your eyes, you quickly told the others where you were going, jogging to catch up with Daryl. You'd passed the target, and now both of you were searching the area for a sign of the lost arrow. He looked in the dirt and greenery, whilst you kept an eye out above your heads for the slightest glint of metal.

"Like searching for a needle in a haystack." You muttered to yourself, frowning. All of the trees were starting to blend together, and it had easily been ten minutes now. It didn't feel possible the arrow could have gone this far. "Daryl, should we turn back?"

You turned around, finding that the redneck was nowhere to be seen. A shot of fear ran through you. "Daryl?"

It felt as if the name echoed back to you. You retreated to where you had seen him last, spinning around. He couldn't have vanished into thin air. Your thoughts were running a million miles an hour - maybe a walker had taken him by surprise, maybe someone was in these woods and kidnapped him. Dozens of scenarios circled your brain, none of them ending in a fairy tale.

Looking up, you saw a sturdy tree branch within reach. Maybe if you climbed, you'd be able to see further and get an idea as to where he went. You began climbing, the anxious thoughts driving you faster and faster up the tree, taking your mind from the bite of the bark. You reached as high as you risked to climb, sitting on the branch, huffing a breath.

You saw no sign of the redneck.

You scrambled down the tree so quickly you were surprised you didn't fall. As soon as you landed on the ground, you started running, sprinting back in the direction of your group. As you heard the crackle of the fire and slight chatter, you raced even faster, breaking through the trees.

You skidded to a stop, heaving a breath. Rick jumped to his feet, rushing towards you. He placed his hand on your shoulder, bending down to look up into your face. "What happened?"

"Daryl -" You sucked a breath in, trying to keep your composure. "He was there one minute, and then." You shrugged your shoulders, fighting the burning in your eyes. "I tried looking for him but I can't track and all I can think is he's out there alone and it'll be dark soon and I have his poncho -"

"Y/N, calm down." Rick tried to calm you, the words still pouring out your mouth.

"He just disappeared! There's nowhere for him to go, he wouldn't leave -"

"Y/N. We will find him, okay." Rick glanced behind him. "Abraham, you're good at tracking, right? Take Y/N and a few others, see if we can find him, search the woods. He can't have gone far."

"With all due respect with the light -"

Abraham was cut off, Rick interjecting quickly. "We will find him. Today."

You tried not to think about how the first 48 hours were the most vital. Abraham followed his orders, grabbing his weapons. As he was going around to gather more people for the search, a twig snapped behind you. Everyone tensed, looking in the direction of the sound.

Daryl wandered into camp, arrow loosely in his hand. Relief surged through you. You rushed forwards, grabbing him in a tight embrace. He stumbled back a few steps, his free hand going to your back.

"I thought something bad had happened!"

"Nah, I thought I saw somethin' so I went to check it out. Thought it was a squirrel or somethin', was hoping to catch some dinner." He broke out in a tiny smile, cocking his head. "Ya never gonna guess what I found though."

~

"Camp Crystal Lake..." Glenn mused, staring up at the eroded words decorating the arch. He turned to the rest of you, all gathered near the arch. "We got any counsellors here?"

"I was a camp counsellor for a summer." Maggie shuddered. "Not as glamorous as the movies made it out to be."

Rick looked at Carl, flicking the lip of the cowboy hat. "Maybe you can have your all American camp experience."

Carl rolled his eyes, trying to hide the smile fighting its way onto his lips. It felt like a shared feeling - everyone was biting back their joy, waiting for something to go wrong, for the camp to already be occupied by either walkers or the living. But the air felt lighter, it felt easier to breathe, and that cloud that clung to you all seemed to stray away.

It didn't need to be said aloud, everyone was thinking the same thing. This place could very much be a new home.

"Well, lets see what we're working with." Rick placed his hands on his hips, authority oozing from him. He used the information borard behind him, detailing the layout of the camp. There were eight cabins, communal dining area, communal bathing area and dock.

All eyes moved to Rick as he handed out orders, the group to split up in pairs to search the camp. The only people who hung back were Carol, Judith and Eugene, just in case. There were enough pairs that everyone took a cabin each.

Rick gestured for Daryl to follow him. "Keep an eye on him, don't want him wandering off again."

"I got him." Rick assured you, giving you a small nod. You replicated the gesture, waving them off.

"I ain't a damn dog." Daryl muttered, earning himself the honour of being on the receiving end of a vulgar gesture for the second time that day.

Tara's laugh greeted your ears. She waited behind you, her knife already in hand. "You ready to go?

"Lead the way."

Tara fell into place at your side, the pair of you wandering to the cabin furthest back in the camp site. Unconsciously, your gaze fell to the lake situated by the side of the camp. Rows of kayak's were stacked, the dust visible even from this distance. Despite the dust, there seemed no other indications that this place had been touched by the bloodshed. It was picturesque.

"Did you ever go to camp?" You asked Tara, seeing the way her eyes lit up at the sight of the kayak's.

"Yeah, I did. Me and my sister would race in the kayak's, splashing each other with the paddles. She even pushed me out of it once, just to win." Tara shifted on her feet, gulping in a big breath. You didn't want to pry, knowing the answer already about her sister. "What about you?"

"Hell no, my foster parents didn't see the point. Said it was a massive waste of money, especially for someone who wasn't their biological kid." You shrugged, ignoring Tara's pitying look. "We should go check out our cabin, I'm sure the others are nearly done by now."

Without another word spoken, you trudged to Cabin Six. Your body tensed, pulling out the knife at your waist. It was a modest building, crafted of a dark wood, with a porch that had spindles from the railing missing. There was a singular window in the cabin, pointing towards the lake. You tried to peek inside, cupping your hands and pushing your face towards the glass. All you could make out was vague shapes, the thick layer of dust distorting your vision.

Shaking your head at Tara, she nodded grimly, positioning herself by the door. She rapped her hand loudly three times against the wood, pulling back. Her body, along with yours, was tense, waiting for a sound to echo from within the room. After a minute of silence, Tara threw the door open, knife ready and pummelled into the room. You were hot on her heels, body mirroring her positioning.

The pair of you scoured the room, vaguely taking in the generic details of the cabin - the bed's that looked untouched, the bedside cabinets so filthy any movement near them sent a plume of dust in it's wake, and a single light bulb swinging from the ceiling. A thorough sweep confirmed your suspicions: the room was clear of threats, and anything worth looting. You did spy a journal haphazardly sticking out from under a mattress. Curious, you plucked it from it's hiding place, casually flipping through the pages.

"What you got there?" Tara peeped over your shoulder, drinking in the contents. A lot of the writing was about mundane things - relationships, petty drama, pointless wants and desires. It was nice to have a glimpse into the lives of people before.

It was all fairly normal, until you saw the drawing.

A towering man, a machete in his hand. Even though his face was obscured by a hockey mask, his eyes had a glean about them. It felt silly, it was just some drawing on some paper, yet you felt the hairs on your arms rise. This wasn't the happy musings of a teenager.

"Well, that's not creepy at all." Tara mused. "Come on, we should see what the others found."

Sighing, you placed the journal on a bedside table, trudging back to the camp arch. The rest of the group were milling around, having completed their searches. Loose shoulders could be seen everywhere - no threats were found. Tara detailed the lack of findings to Rick, who seemed satisfied with the answer.

"Rosita and I checked out the mess hall and nurse's station, there was a lot of good shit." Abraham noted. "This place is a fucking gold mine."

Carl piped up. "And there's working showers here."

You couldn't believe your luck.

"Okay, so tonight we all stay in the mess hall. Everyone grab some bedding from the other cabins, haul it over. Once we're inside, we're not leaving - we're still exposed here, I want to blockade the doors. Just in case."

You all agreed. There was no such thing as being too careful, not after the horrors you had all endured. Even then, this was the lucky break you all needed. You needed this place to settle down for a few days, to process the trauma you'd been running from since the prison.

You all dispersed, following Rick's orders. Despite the lingering dread, there was an airiness to everyone.

It was a shame none of you noticed the figure looming in the woods, machete in hand.

next part

the walking dead masterlist

[lesbianambulon]

Hey girlie pop I'm back with another super cool Magnus ask. How do you think this man would react to snow or the winter?

Note: bro I am from like the carribean I have limited experience with snow but I'll try my best.

• Winter. He’s somewhere in the middle. Doesn’t hate it, doesn’t particularly love it. 

• He admits snow can be quite pleasing to look at, but dislikes the hazards it imposes.

• He doesn’t mind the cold, such a big frame like his, he tends to conserve heat well, but doesn’t take any chances with being in subzero temperatures for too long. He knows what happened to Optimus and Arcee.

• Appreciates the Aurora Borealis. The first time he saw it, he was mesmerized. It reminded him of some of the colorful nebulas he’d seen in deep space during his interstellar travels. 

• Hates deep snow or snow drifts. He was on a mission once with the other bots when he walked right into one and fell helm-first into it, misgauging the depth. It was embarrassing and Wheeljack wouldn’t stop laughing. He was irritated the rest of the mission.

• Has personal beef with ice. Like actually hates it. Since he's huge, he slips easily and breaks through the ice layers on frozen lakes. He skids on iced out roads. If he could, he'd have ice arrested and banned. Black ice? Illegal. Diabolical. Evil.

• Gets snow chains for his tires. Bro isn't messing around anymore.

• He has a tendency to only repair and touch up his frame when absolutely necessary. He’s not the greatest at self-maintenance, as he rather have those resources given to another bot more in need than him. He’s particularly bad at oiling up his joints often. The bitter cold makes his joints stiffen and hurt with the friction. Ratchet has to scold him to take better care of himself (hypocrite lmao). 

• Understands why humans consider winter a time of reflection, as the barrenness of it all makes one look inwards. This notion makes him sort of uncomfortable. He tends to get lost in thought while among a snowy landscape. He rather not dwell on his thoughts.

• Dislikes greatly how things can easily fall into chaos from the cold. Hypothermia, blackouts, roof damage, vehicle accidents, fires, exploding pipes. Thinks humans could be better at preparation.

• Started keeping space heaters in the base. Modified his ship to now have antifreeze. Hates flying in snowstorms. Visiblity is awful, the wind rattles his ship, ice coats the windows. By Primus, he rather fucking die.

• Gets a bit annoyed when the roads are covered with snow and he has to wait for human crews to remove it. If he's alone, he just transforms and walks around it, but if there's humans nearby, he's stuck behind a snowplow. May consider blasting the snow to melt it.

• Definitely is writing new chapter in the Autobot Code about weather hazards on Earth at this point. What's going on on this planet.

• Wonders HOW humans, that need heat, have survived in the most frigid of places on Earth. Is kind of impressed at their ability to adapt to harsh cold environments.

• Bro glistens when the snow hits him and melts on his frame. He looks so pretty and doesn’t even realize it smh.

Short fic underneath the cut because I was ✨ inspired ✨

He was out on a routine patrol early one morning. The streets of Jasper were mostly deserted, and it was more apparent than usual that the few remaining folks out and about wanted to get inside as quickly as possible. He didn’t understand why. The sky above was ashen gray. The clouds churned alongside the frigid air that blasted the landscape that came with the approaching cold front. He forged ahead, noting it as peculiar but not threatening. 

As he came to a stop at a red light near a residential area, he noticed two humans walking briskly. One was a woman and the other was a child. The woman held the girls’ hand firmly as they walked with haste towards an unknown destination. The girl shivered slightly, purple scarf raised to cover her mouth and nose. The mother’s face bore an expression of subtle concern, eyebrows furrowed. They crossed the street in front of him. The mother spoke to the girl as they traversed the crosswalk. “Come on, the storm will start any second now.” she said and muttered something else in a language he did not recognize. Something about their demeanor struck the commander as unusual, and he didn’t notice his light had turned green for a few seconds. He proceeded onwards, senses now heightened, unaware of what was happening but sensing a shift in the environment around him. He’s been through enough in his experience to recognize when something is even slightly off. 

He decided to pull over into a parking lot of a commercial building complex, which was empty minus a few cargo trucks here and there. He blended right in. Nearby was a short walking path lined with various trees. The already sparsely populated town seemed emptier than usual. To him, it seemed that whatever was brewing on the horizon was driving people to seek shelter indoors. A sudden icy gust of wind made his frame rattle for a second. The temperature was dropping faster than he anticipated. The sky continued to darken, blocking out the sun’s rays and covering the town in a washed-out darkness. It was quiet, minus the occasional sounds of the wind rustling the trees. He had grown accustomed to being in dynamic environments where a myriad of sounds emanated constantly, so this rare silence was almost…unnerving. 

He began to feel something hit his armor plating. It felt…wet, and cold. He noticed white particles falling around him slowly. He had experienced liquid rain on this planet, but this was new. These particles fell slower than rain did, and they almost drifted downwards instead of the violent pelting that accompanied rain. These particles also seemed to pile up and cover whatever surface they landed on. He adjusted his side mirrors to get a better look at the substance. It was beginning to cover his vehicle mode’s exterior. He concluded it had to be water-based, or something similar. He remained there for a few more minutes, observing, before pulling out of the parking lot. He set course back to the Autobot base. For once, he activated his radio, searching the airwaves for possible information. After flicking through a few channels, he came upon one that piqued his interest. A man’s voice spoke over the speakers.

“...The National Weather Service has declared a winter storm warning in effect for the following counties: Clark, Lincoln, Nye, White Pine from 8 AM to 12 PM Pacific Standard Time. 9 to 10 inches of snow are predicted…folks if you’re listening…avoid driving on roads if possible. If you have to travel, drive slow and be wary of iced roads. Temperatures will drop below zero. Remain indoors and prepare for possible power outages. Stay tuned to WZ2519 for further updates. Stay safe.”

The commander tuned back out once the message ended and it returned to the show that was previously airing. A sense of unease briefly sparked in him for a second, then extinguished. Since this was a situation he had no knowledge about, he couldn’t help but run through the scenarios in his mind of all  the things that could go wrong.

He pulled into an empty field near some large rocks, and transformed to his robot mode. He gazed upon the landscape before him. The fervid scarlet and orange of the desert rock contrasted with the stark white of the fresh snow, now beginning to accumulate on the ground. Cacti and sagebrush were sprinkled with the powder. He couldn’t help but somewhat admire the barrage of colors in his view, something about it had an almost ethereal quality. He discovered something unique with each passing day he spent upon this unfamiliar world. He appreciated the novel stimuli of something new that wasn’t trying to actively kill him. He held out a servo, feeling the snow fall graciously into his palm. He noticed the way it would dissipate upon making contact with his frame. He stood there wordlessly for a few minutes, taking in the sounds of the howling wind and the snow hitting the ground. 

The snow was coming down harder around him now, visibility now diminishing. He transformed back into his vehicle mode and drove in the direction of the base. He recalled the human’s words over the radio, and decelerated his speed to avoid causing a collision. For a second, he felt himself skid side to side on the ice as he hit the brakes. He corrected himself, noting this new hazard.

He didn’t have time to ponder any longer about the strange weather phenomenon he had experienced, as Optimus had contacted him via his comm to inquire about his availability for a new mission. The snow would have to wait.

[ophiespeaks]

On worldbuilding for drs:

I don’t want to claim to be an expert. However, I have taken a semester of specifically worldbuilding-oriented english writing, on top of being a literal english major. Needless to say, I think I know a *few* things on worldbuilding when it comes to fictional works. But drs are different beasts entirely.

When you’re writing, it’s easy to say “oh this is 20 miles from this” and leave it at that. But when you’re mapping/planning out new locations in a dr, for example, a post-dystopia where society is restarting at around the middle age- it’s important to be very aware of actual societal patterns and the WHY people would settle there. Understanding the fundamentals of human behavior is important for understanding worldbuilding as a whole.

Your world can look however. A remodeled United States, such as I have in my The 100 DR, won’t have the exact same lines for nations/communities. However, some nation/state lines exist for a reason. Most commonly, bodies of water. Large rivers or lakes in geography affect how people settle those areas. In the United States (which I’m using, because I have the most knowledge of the country and purely for that reason), the great lake area is incredibly fertile and has mild enough weather to be hospitable for all kinds of plants and livestock to survive year round. You can even weave this into land disputes- early english settlers to the ohio river valley fought a war with the indigenous tribes of the area for basically one reason- Beaver pelt. It was extremely valuable and actually they hunted beaver in the area to near extinction during and after the war. One people wanting certain land for purely agricultural and hunting reasons is a thing that has happened historically, and can be used as conflict points in a dr.

Language is also an interesting point. Sure, you can make up a language. That works fine. But also, knowing linguistics and incorporating aspects of cr language into your dr can make it more “realistic” and easier to learn and understand. Most languages stem from ancient languages- things like Latin and ancient Sumerian have stemmed into modern day English, Spanish, German, and even various Indian and broadly Asian languages. Using a post-dystopian US-centered example, you can take English and modify it to realistically have changed with times and cultures. Sticking with my 100 dr, there’s an existing language called Trigedasleng.

It’s derivative english. “Kom” in Trigeda is derived from “Come” in English, which ends up actually translating to something like “From” or “Of (the)” in English. “Kru” is directly derived from “Crew” on english, which means “people” in actual translation. “Heda” directly translates to “Leader” or “Commander,” but is derived from the English word “Head.” The head is in charge of the body, the Heda is in charge of the people. Trigedasleng is actually a “full” language developed by the writers of the TV show and even has an online translator. However, for my DR, I’m working on a lot more actual changes in the two languages, Trigedasleng and English. Only certain words have changed in canon, and I’m making a significant number of words actually change from their English counterparts.

Language also constitutes culture and societal differences. Does your dr society speak only one language, are multiple languages used? If they are post-dystopia, is the language entirely new, or derived? Again, in my dr, English is still used and spoken- but only specifically by Grounder warriors. Merchants, farmers, metalworkers, etc. only speak Trigedasleng. English is a language that has survived, but not thrived, during the rebuilding of society. Language can also be used to express class and status. Is knowing English a tell of formal education? Is speaking a “slang” version of a language used as a way to express lower classes or poverty? Take a look at American AAVE, used predominantly in poorer black communities. It’s English- with slight adjustments.

Take into account topography as well. If there is a mountain on one side, there may be a desert on the others. Take the Rockies for example, most of the land on the opposite side is desert because the mountains shield the brunt of the weather. If a society lives by the ocean or a big lake, the chances are that society has developed boats and use fishing techniques. If they live in snow areas, chances are they hunt rather than depending too heavily on agriculture yield. Valleys deep enough may have different weather than even just a few miles up in flatlands. Bogs, swamps, and other still water sources pose dangers to humans because of the species who live there, such as mosquitoes carrying malaria or aquatic reptiles such as alligators and crocodiles, or poisonous snakes. Therefore, it’s unlikely for a society to suddenly desire to live in the middle of the swamp, especially if they only have rudimentary technology.

Illnesses are also important to consider. For worldbuilding, it’s as much about the people and cultures as it is the physical map. Does one group have an immunity to one illnesses where another doesn’t, such as the real life application with the English bringing smallpox to the Americas? Would one group avoid another because they think they’re “sick,” whether literally or religiously? Religions are also a huge aspect of culture. We see it present even today in conflicts, and it also changes where people want to settle. Is there a “holy land” that the devout make pilgrimages to? Is there a blessed area that people believe if they can live there, they will prosper? Including the actual gods or deities in your dr is an entire other choice- but even if those religions are false or contradict other religions, people will still believe. It’s human nature to seek divine explanations when practical ones fall short.

If anyone has further questions, my asks *should* be open! I could rant about worldbuilding for hours.

Also, for reference, here are two (very rudimentary lmao) maps for my The 100 dr *some locations are changed from canon*:

[apomaro-mellow]

A good friend of mine @spectrum-spectre had a plot bunny and I had to write a lil sumthin

If it was anyone else, Steve would've questioned why they were going all the way to New Jersey for an amusement park. But he figured Eddie had his reasons. Maybe he wanted some distance. Or maybe there was some sort of nerd lore with the park or something in the area. Either way....

"It was really nice of you to plan out this whole getaway", Steve said. "And responsible....Who are you and what have you done with my man-child bitch of a boyfriend?"

"Careful, I might revert back to my bitchiness and leave you in this hotel room."

"I'm just saying, I don't see this side of you often. This side that makes plans and takes care of things."

Eddie looked to his Stevie, who was lounging on the mattress of a less-than-luxurious hotel bed. "You'd know if you ever let me be your dungeon master." He kneeled onto the bed, hovering above Steve. "You like when I take care of you?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah."

Eddie leaned in for a little mornin' love when someone knocked on their door.

"Dudes, let's go. You had time to christen your honeymoon suite last night", Argyle said from the other side of the door.

"He's right." Steve had mercy and gave him a quick peck before pushing him off.

Summer of 87 and Eddie had taken it upon himself to plan a short vacation for him, Steve, Jonathan, and Argyle. A no chicks or kids holiday. A few dissenting voices complained, but here they were. No responsibilities other than themselves.

They arrived to the park and Eddie was practically buzzing as they got in the moving line to get in to Action Park. Now that was the boyfriend Steve knew.

"Ohhh, it's this park. Interesting choice dude", Argyle said.

"Why?", Jonathan asked.

"You didn't hear? Like a bunch of people have died here, man."

Steve's eyes slid over to Eddie. He was about to ask if he knew about this but already knew the answer. Knew his boyfriend was already intimately familiar with the morbid details.

"Stevie, before you say anything, this is to celebrate our survival-"

Steve cut him off with just a raised brow. "By coming to a park where people have died? Explain that logic."

"We're just doing the waterpark today, right?", Jonathan clarified. "How bad could it be?"

They got inside and Steve watched in horror as Eddie jumped off a 20 foot cliff with multiple other people and a single, slightly frazzled lifeguard on duty.

"Five jumps is enough", Steve pulled Eddie out of the water, determined to get him somewhere with a bit more supervision.

The four of them went to the wave pool, which Steve had a fine time with. Until he saw Eddie's head go under one too many times and he was reminded of Lover's Lake and dragged him out of that too.

"Steve, you don't need to smother me. I'm not one of your lil chickadees."

"No, you're just gonna be my chicken kabob when you get skewered on a ride."

"You guys are making me hungry", Argyle said.

"One more thing, then lunch?", Eddie suggested.

Eddie led the group over to something that made Steve's heart stop right in its tracks. Even Jonathan had sobered up enough to give it a quizzical look.

"Is that a water slide....with a loop?"

"Nope! Nope, no way. No way you're breaking your back on that thing", Steve started to push Eddie away.

"I'm not gonna break my back", Eddie rolled his eyes.

Argyle nodded sagely. "Ride like that is more likely to take your head off. Or get you stuck."

"I rest my case", Steve said.

Eddie pouted but allowed himself to be pulled along. He'd just have to do something more convincing than puppy dog eyes. Meanwhile, Steve tried to keep Eddie occupied with the other, seemingly less dangerous attractions, trying not to get a heart attack any time something seemed off.

At least it was normal kind of off and not Upside Down type. Eventually, Steve knew what he had to do to get Eddie's mind off that death trap of a ride known as Cannonball Loop.

It took very little persuasion to lead Eddie away from Jonathan and Argyle. It took even less convincing to get him into an Employees Only area. And it took nothing to get him on board once he removed his wet t-shirt.

When they finished, Eddie was properly dazed and distracted. They met back up with the others, one now much tanner than when they'd left, all parked out for the day.

Eddie gave a wistful sigh as they walked out of the park. "I guess I should be happy I have someone who cares soooo much about my wellbeing."

"You're damn right", Steve grinned.

Argyle put an arm around Steve and Jonathan's shoulders on the way to the rental car. "This was a perfectly packaged day, my friends. Sun, water, corndogs, a bit of danger. Somebody got laid."

"Wait, what?", Jonathan choked out.

"That's where they went while you were nappin'", Argyle jerked his head towards Eddie and Steve.

"How can you nap in an amusement park?", Eddie cackled as he unlocked the car.

Jonathan shrugged. "I'm just lucky Argyle put the lotion on me before I conked out."

Eddie started the car before a realization came to him and his head whipped to Steve. "You told Argyle what we were doing?"

"Always let people know your whereabouts", Steve said.

"We gotta bring the kiddos some time", Argyle said.

"Not in this lifetime, Cali", Steve pointed a very stern finger at him. It was hard enough corralling Eddie. He couldn't imagine having to deal with the kids too. Never mind the thrill junkie Max, or the always experimental Dustin. All of them were just different enough to pull in different directions and drive him insane.

"Maybe Disneyland, then", Eddie suggested. "We've got plenty of government hush money left. And there's this one ride-"

"I'm gonna take a page out of Nancy's book and actually do some research before I let you plan the next trip", Steve decided.

[everydayimspeculating]

So I've been thinking about Pokémon. I do that a lot. My inner Zoobooks kid demands it. But recently I was rewatching some of the old anime for Reasons and realized the games exist in universe as some sorta goofy edutainment simulator. Made me start thinking about 'what if the games oversimplify pokémon biology like Odell's Lake and the like oversimplify real world biology' and uh. With all due gratitude to @bogleech (who does reviews for pokemon designs that I adore) and the nature YouTubers I consume daily.

I would like to yell at you about Bulbasaur a little, Tumblr.

So imma get real nerdy real fast here. I love me some speculative extrapolation.

First off let's look at one of the official game designs real quick.

Okay, so, a sauroid design--I know that seems obvious from the name but hold on here, I have a point.

So here we have a large quadrapedal exotherm with obvious green coloration. Not just dull green, bright green. Given the species line is famous for learning Solar Beam, an attack that necessitates gathering sunlight and transforming it into an attack, we can probably be safe in assuming a lot of that green is chlorophyll, making this a rare non-marine vertebrate capable of using chlorophyll to produce energy for itself. And, occasionally, to gather enough energy to tell predators to step off.

The bulb and the... well, the 'saur, appear to be a package deal, but the bulb is not only distinct from the main body, it may be the primary source of its Grass typing, with the Poison typing belonging to the sauroid hefting that bulb around. That kinda distinction leads me to believe the bulb doesn't naturally grow on the Bulbasaur, and may be the result of a parent or sufficiently trained human implanting the seed for the bulb in its back. Meaning the body can have a set of two genetic parents while the bulb can have genetics coming from any flowering plants of that species in whatever area they're born to.

I wonder if the sauroids without bulbs are capable of surviving on their own or if this was an adaptation out of necessity. Like how megafauna in our actual world died off when the ecosystem could no longer support their energy needs. Are the bulbs needed to get to their size, leaving unaided young smaller to survive without the energy boost? If they were smaller and had weaker skin without the Grass-type boosting, I can see them being analogous to venomous toads. If they're needed for survival, it implies strong social ties, possibly entire colonies or troops of their evolutionary line, in order to provide new 'Saurs with their bulb seeds.

Also, if the two parts of the Bulbasaur are distinct, that implies the bulb is supplementing a diet that was already supporting the animal body. Given the name of the final evolution is Venusaur, I'm going to assume insects, probably birds and rodents once it grows larger and slower.

I'm almost entirely sure this thing lives in and around rainforests and jungles. Lots of moisture and sunlight for the chlorophyll and lots of biodiversity (to feast upon). It also fits with the assumed venomous amphibian origin.

I'm going to assume one of the oversimplifications is the evolution system, and that means the Bulbasaur, as pictured above, is a recognized and therefore official species for use in pokémon sport. There's probably all manner of variants not officially recognized, like ones that don't have their bulb, or who had their bulb seed malform somewhere along the line, or shift position in a way that hinders mobility. It also indicates a Bulbasaur that's battle ready can also lay or sire eggs, though without a ready support system, they're reliant on human aid to properly raise their young with bulbs. Based on body plan and energy requirements, I'm guessing covered nest with between one and three eggs, warm, kept damp, so the heat equally incubated the eggs. When they hatch, the young are kept hydrated and tucked away while a seed is implanted in their soft backs. Eventually, they are exposed more and more to the sunlight and the energy from that and catches brought to the nest helps them grow quickly until the adorable little starter beasts we so love.

There's more. There so much more. But I'll cover that next post or I'll ramble over the word limit.

[trivialbob]

The main reason for our Wisconsin camping trip this past weekend was to see our friend and former Tumblr Jessica, her husband, and their new bar. 

But we had one other destination in mind.

Sheila and I like dive bars. We’d heard of a blue ribbon, class A, #1, Gold Medal dive bar in northern Wisconsin, not far from the shores of Lake Superior, that is a must-see. 

We drove an hour and a half north from Birchwood to the tiny town of Moquah. Along the way we passed countless rural roadside bars (RRB). We stopped at one for a bloody and chaser. My nice smile earned me a Spotted Cow instead of a Busch Lite for that five ounce beer that makes a bloody 48% happier.

At times I wonder if these small towns, where the bar to resident ratio is high, do they close some bars just so those employees have a chance to visit the rest of the bars in town? 

Anyway...

I present - The Plywood Palace.

We arrived at 12:10 PM. The door, held shut with a small Master padlock that wouldn't survive five seconds in Minneapolis or Chicago, should have been propped open at that point, but the owner was late. 

It’s not likely he reads Yelp or cares what it is, so no one wasted time bitching. We were far from 5G service anyway. 4G too. Even flip phones would not help so you’d better have a quarter for a pay phone if you want to call corporate and complain.

Several trucks and side-by-side ATVs were already there next to my truck. I bet there wasn’t a Prius within 100 miles of this place. Telslas likely are prohibited by local township rules.

We were all happy campers, waiting in that parking area. Everyone had a cooler. Some shared beer. We shared beef sticks from a meat shop we stopped at on the way there. One woman had bowls of dip and some chips. It was a block party in the sticks, next to a shack.

About an hour later the owner showed up. A man of few words, he mostly grunted “three bucks” or “six bucks,” depending on how many cans of Busch Lite a bar patron ordered. The money went into a mechanical cash register. Hey! You hippie over there, asking about Apple Pay, GTFO of here. Ka-ching.

We’d been advised to order canned beverages. There’s no running water at the Plywood Palace. Everyone followed that advice. No one dared order a bloody or an Old Fashioned. Or anything requiring ice. Or even a glass of water.

Sheila and I loved talking with everybody, hoisting Busch Lights to our parched lips as sunlight streamed through holes in the roof and walls before finally striking on the concrete and dirt floor.

Bras and signed dollar bills decorate what could be known to some as a ceiling.

The “ladies” room is a two-stall. Word has it that the women prefer one side over the other. You may see why. 

Sheila had a large package of baby wipes, because she plans ahead. Others were elated when she announced that anyone could help themselves to those clean, moist sheets.

Left stall:

Right stall:

This is the men’s room. It accommodates acres of full bladders. I found the little flowers to be a thoughtful touch.

Pollsters likely spend little time here.

Near the end of our visit I scrawled Sheila’s and my names on the wall with a Sharpie. I tried to buy a beer for the people who’d gladly opened their coolers to us before the bar opened, but they would have nothing of it. Friends share beer with friends, and we were all friends.

[landslided]

Idea: Lawrusso butch4butch cowboy lesbians

the noise i just let out should be studied by scientists. yes ❤️ absolutely

im historically not an expert on cowboys (my friend is tho) so all my ideas and inspiration come from westerns but im thinking:

danielle larusso is new in the area. her mother brought a decrepit ranch with all of their economies and they’re now trying to give it a second life. in doing so they meet mr miyagi, an old man living not far away from the ranch but quite isolated from the others in town. he takes care of cattle and he’s very polite and very kind to danielle and lucille (who have had to deal with their share of sexist assholes since danielle’s dad died). lucille makes business with him to buy some of his cattle and they decide to actually start working together. she invites him to dinner one evening and he never really leaves. he helps her and danielle fix the ranch and also starts teaching danielle how to take care of cattle and especially horses. danielle doesn’t really have her own horse yet but she wants one very badly and so miyagi offers her a beautiful palomino mare for her birthday.

one morning, danielle goes in the barn to take care of her horse and sees another horse already there. a black american quarterhorse and behind it is hidden a bruised and bleeding johnny lawrence. johnny is an outlaw. she used to be a rich girl back in town. her mother had married the mayor of the town when she was a young girl and johnny was promised to marry one of his rich (and old) friends but she fled and instead she joined a group of outlaw who commit petty crimes to survive. she and the other cobras had just done a heist when they were separated while running away and she was shot in the back. she didn’t know where to go. she saw the barn in the horizon and decided to hide there until the police lost her tracks but with the blood loss she fell asleep and didn’t manage to leave the barn before morning.

danielle brings her back home and nurses her back to health (but at the same time she wonders if she should throw her out because johnny is 1) a criminal 2) a fugitive 3) a huge bitch). a little after johnny gets back on her feet, the cobras come and meet her and tell her that they all need to split up for a while because the sheriff is after them, johnny gets really worried because she has nowhere to go apart from going back to her house but if she goes back to laura and sid she knows she’ll be married by force. danielle, who cannot keep her nose out of other people’s business, tells johnny she can stay if she starts working on the ranch. which is how johnny ends up training horses with danielle and mr miyagi.

im also imagining slow burn love story between danielle and johnny: fishing trips that end with taking a swim naked in the lake, talks in front of the fire where danielle learns to like johnny and johnny hides how much she wants to kiss danielle, dinners with lucille and mr miyagi who can see what’s going on there, the two of them racing on their horses. just, lots of domestic shit that end abruptly because kreese, another outlaw who helped johnny escape sid, comes to collect what he believes to be johnny’s debt. he wants johnny to work for him, danielle thinks his intentions are a lot darker than that but johnny tells her that he truly helped so that she just needs to pay her debt back and he’ll leave her alone. except kreese doesn’t leave her alone and mr miyagi has to step in. (you know you gotta have a duel in a western).

johnny gets hurt in the crossfire and it makes danielle realize that she’s in love with that blonde meathead. johnny scares them all by staying unconscious a lot longer than last time. the cobras come to visit and they all wait at johnny’s bedside. when she wakes up, bobby tells her that danielle has not moved ever since she’s been hurt and that she should get her head out of her ass and tell the other woman how she feels. danielle comes to see her, johnny thanks her for taking care of her again and they both manage to say i love you at the same time. happy ending, all is well, they train horses on the ranch until they’re old and grey (but still in love).