#but once the institute is blow she takes him to the red rocket and leaves him there with Hancock and Dogmeat

[yourpaceangel]

Synth children got me fucked up

[antiquechampagne]

Absolute Zero - Chapter 1

As Angela walked up to the metal door, its presence punctuated by a garish glowing neon arrow, her heart felt like it would blow out of her chest. Goodneighbor. She clutched her thick three ring binder before her, hoping it would give her the strength she needed. Angela hadn’t traveled here alone from Amherst, but she entered the town on her own.

The door was heavy. Angela struggled with it until a ghoul carrying a tommy gun and wearing a threadbare suit topped with a rust colored fedora helped her open it the rest of the way.

“Welcome to Goodneighbor.” He sounded tired.

Before he could walk away, she quickly thanked him. “Could you also tell me where I could find… the Mayor?”

“If ya wanna talk t’ the boss,” he pointed a scarred finger across the courtyard. “Check out the Old State House.”

She thanked him again, but he had already turned away. Taking a few steps closer, she took in the tall brick building. It was stately, definitely pre-war built, but well taken care of given it’s age. It reminded Angela of some of the ruins she played in as a child, looking for long forgotten books or scraps of pre-war gadgets. Glancing around the square, she saw a friendly ghoul manning a general store. She was more surprised to see an assaultron behind the counter of the other shop, one full of dangerous looking arms. It was early evening, but not many other people were on the street.

Standing in front of the State House, Angela took a moment to straighten her bangs, combing her fingers through her chin length blond hair. She wiped some hot sweat from her forehead. Her nerves were shot, but she had to go through with it. It was the only way.

Once inside she was directed to the second floor. She wasn’t sure what to expect. All Angela knew about the mayor of Goodneighbor was that he was a ghoul with a taste for chems. She wasn’t expecting a man clad in a long red coat playing chess with a rather serious looking woman.

“Looks like we have a new guest, Fahr! And this little lady has balls!” He picked a hat off the table as he rose and plunked it squarely over his deeply ridged scalp.

She found herself staring at the hole that had once been a nose as she spoke. “I…I didn’t mean to intrude, Mr. Mayor…” Angela had never been this close to a ghoul before, much less talked to one for so long. Sure, there had been a few ghoul traders around, but she was never directly involved in any commerce activity.

The Mayor drew closer to her, a cocky smirk on his face. “Oh, now don’t be shy, sister! We’re all friends here, right?” He motioned to a pair of sofas in the middle of the large room. Angela had always been on the shorter side, but the Mayor’s bombastic personality made him seem even taller than his average stature. Sitting down across from him did little to lessen it. Angela felt like she was shrinking under his gaze.

“Now, what can this old ghoul do for you today.”

Angela thought he sounded almost predatory. The glowering giant woman with a mohawk standing behind the couch wasn’t helping. She closed her eyes and pictured her family in her head. Releasing her breath, she began.

“Mr. Mayor… my name is Angela. I came east looking for someone who might be in need of my particular set of skills and I heard Goodneighbor would be a perfect fit.”

He cocked a smooth hairless eyebrow. “Oh, really? And what would those skills be?” the Mayor purred, leaned forward on his knees.

Angela opened her binder, leafing through the notebooks, papers and pamphlets stored within. “I am a trained scientist, specializing in pharmacological chemistry. I can synthesize chems of all sorts, medicinal, recreational, even chemical warfare. I’ve spent the past 10 years collecting every formula and recipe I could get my hands on.” The ghoul was leaning farther over, trying to glimpse at the treats she teased in her pages. This was going well. “Get me in a lab with the ingredients I need, and I’ll make you whatever you want.”

The Mayor leaned back in his seat again and glanced up at Fahr, another smile teasing the edges of his deformed lips. “That is quite the compelling sales pitch you have there, especially with the issues we’ve been having lately... but how do I know you can actually deliver? Not many actual scientists around these days… unless you’ve defected from the Institute.”

Angela had no idea what this ‘Institute’ was, but from the way he spoke, it wasn’t a popular around these parts. “I grew up in the ruins of an old university out in the Amherst wasteland. My mom was the town doctor, but I was more interested in books than bodies.”

The ghoul rubbed his chin, seemingly unimpressed.

“Put me to the test, then.” If what she had heard was true, this gamble was worth the risk. “Pick out anything, give me the means to make it, and see what you think.”

“You’re kidding, right?” The woman piped up. “You come in here, and then demand caps from us… just to waste on some flaky science experiment? Throw this pipsqueak out on her ass, boss. We’ve got better things to do.”

“I barely got here with the shirt on my back! Cut me some slack!”

“Now hold on a second,” The Mayor raised his hand. “I think we can work something out.” He spread his hand over Angela’s binder, turning it towards him as he spoke. “I’ll pick a treat from the cookie jar, here… and if Squeaky here can deliver we can have some more negotiations. If not, then I get to keep the recipe.” He stared at her, freezing her to the spot. “Deal?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “Deal.”

Opening the binder to what appeared to be a random page, the Mayor read the title.

“Rocket? Never heard of it. Sounds fun!”

Twenty minutes later the pair led her to the dingy basement of the local hotel, a small crate clutched in her hand, the cola bottle clinking together between the box of Abraxo soap and Jet canisters.

“Hey, Fred,” called Mayor Hancock. “Mrs. Angela here is going to use your bench for a little while.”

A drowsy face popped out from a side room. “Yeah, well… you might want to check upstairs with that. Marowski might not like that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll have a little chat with him right now.” He turned to Angela. “In the meantime, why don’t you get set up.”

The lab was set up in the middle of the large basement. She wished she had more light but began to unload and organize on the counter when Fred appeared next to her. She tried to ignore him.

“Sooo… whatcha cookin’?” His wide watery eyes tracing over the bottles and boxes. He reached out but Angela quickly slapped his hand away from the Nuka-Cola. “Jeeze, sorry man. You don’t have to be like that. I’m just curious.”

Angela placed her binder on the bench top, her hand firmly holding the cover down. She didn’t want anything of hers wandering away while she wasn’t looking.

“Oooh, what’s that?” Fred asked, peering around her with a little hungry smile.

“Mine.” She glared at him. She was already on edge with the pressure of synthesizing chems in an unfamiliar lab, but now she had to be on her guard against possible sabotage. Great.

Just then, Hancock and Fahrenheit came down the stairs. “Okay, a few caps and that’s all squared away. You have an hour. Show us what ya got.”

“Hey, wait a minute there!” Fred stood up tall, puffing out his chest. “Are you guys looking to replace good ol’ Fred?” He shoulders hunched a little. “Say it ain’t so, Mayor?!”

The Mayor threw an arm around the greying chem dealer’s shoulder. “Nah, man. That’s not it at all. You know, with those raiders pouring out from Nuka-World it’s been hard getting a steady supply. Think of her as a possible assistant. This,” he spread his other hand out wide. “is her interview.”

Fred considered the news.

“Besides,” the ghoul continued. “You’ll get to try her goodies out… and it looks like she’s got a couple of aces up her sleeve.” He let Fred go and started towards the stairs.

“Oh, and Fred?” he looked back. “Leave her alone… she’s got work to do.”

Author’s Notes: I have decided to not put chapter titles with this fic and see how I feel about it.

[angelavengeda]

you’re nine the first time it happens.   correction:  you’re nine the first time you notice;   it could have been happening all along.   probably was happening all along,  actually,  but you don’t have the gumption to mull that thought over for very long.  it’s all too confusing as it is. 

posters litter the walls of your dark red bedroom,   tokens from your bouts around the city with aline.   she’s pretty much the only girl you know,   though how well can you know someone who visits new york maybe once or twice a year?  regardless,   those trips through new york have taught you one thing:   this is what girls your age do.   they plaster their bedrooms with posters of mundie singers,   with their platinum blonde-tipped hair and suspiciously orange-hued tans.   they bow their heads together and giggle,   the sound practically foreign to your isolated ears.  there isn’t room for giggling in the hollowed halls of the institute;   only grunts of pain and groans of frustration as you train & train & train. 

but some part of you longs for that sense of normalcy,   for a female friend to giggle with about the pretty boys on ridiculously oversized posters.  so you hang them,   paste them all over your bedroom,  brows furrowed in concentration   ---   they must be hung perfectly,   of course,   because that’s the only way.   (nevermind the fact the chances of anyone seeing these is slim-to-none).  

expect,  someone does see them:   first, your mom, who doesn’t seem too impressed by the mundies donning her daughter’s bedroom.  ❛  honestly,  isabelle,  couldn’t you find anything else with which to decorate your bedroom?   ❜   ( the one female in your life and she can’t even pretend to think these boys are cute.  it’s positively rude, really ).  then,  your brother.   your big brother,  with all of his self-possession and furrowed looks,  who you can only assume will think the posters are stupid.   

( spoiler alert:  he doesn’t think they’re stupid ). 

the first time he comes into your room,  he looks... confused.   almost like he’s stepped into some sort of weird other-world in which his little sister is some mundie obsessed with crappy mundie music.   ( honestly, those are probably his exact thoughts ).  but then he comes back.  and then back again.   and the fourth time he comes back,  you aren’t even in your room.   you’re in the training room,  twisting your body this way and that,  already learning how to throw punches and land blows at the tender age of eight. 

you find him there,   when you return to your room.   sweat glistens on your warm skin as you stand,  blinking,  in your bedroom doorway.   he doesn’t notice you at first  ( you’re very good at sneaking ),  giving you a few,  drawn-out seconds to watch him watch.... the walls?   dark eyes dart around the room,   trying to figure out what he’s even looking at,  before it hits you:   your posters.   he’s looking at the boys in your posters. 

why would your big brother want to look at your posters?

you might’ve watched him longer,   brows furrowed as a certain feeling of unease begins to burrow itself in your stomach.   the look in his eyes is familiar,  and you don’t know what to think.   is he considering bleaching the tips of his hair?  ( by the angel,  that would look terrible,  alec,  so don’t even ---- )  is he interested in picking up music as a side hobby?  ( but that might take away from training,  and shadowhunters don’t  --- )  is he...

❛  isabelle!  i told you to ----   ❜   your mother appears,  suddenly and without warning  ( guess you know where you get your sneaking skills, huh? ).   you start,  and so does he.   his blue eyes dart towards your mother,  color already beginning to creep up his neck and along his cheeks.   he looks.... angry?  embarrassed?  scared?  it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before,   and that unease in the pit of your stomach gives away to panic.   pure,  unending panic,    a fierce protectiveness over your big brother suddenly rocketing through you. 

faintly,  you hear your mother question what he’s doing.   you hear her ask why he'd even be in your room right now,   and you see the way his color deepens.   without hesitation,  you spin on your heel,   expression schooling into careful innocence.   ❛  i told alec to wait here for me, mom.   i wanted to show him what i learned in training today.   ❜  

she doesn’t look entirely convinced,   the discoloring of alec’s face probably enough to make her question,   but you don’t budge.   you’d go to your grave with this lie,   you realize,   if it’ll keep alec from looking like that ever again.   over your shoulder,  you hear him agree.  weakly?  maybe,  but something about it convinces your mother to believe.  ( or maybe she just wants to believe,  because that’d be easier than this uneasy,  uncertain,  afraid-for-alec feeling you’re experiencing right now ).    after one more reminder for you to change,   she takes off down the hall,  her shoes clicking on the floor.  

you expect him to be grateful,   to sag with relief when you turn back to face him.   whatever this was,   you saved him from your mother’s prying eye.   you helped him out,  like any good little sister would. 

but he doesn’t thank you.   doesn’t even look at you.   instead,  without a word,  your big brother brushes past you and heads in the direction of his room,   leaving you even more confused & uncertain than ever. 

[radreactions]

Companions Meet Negan

Another one written for you courtesy of @saintlyguy! Seriously, this guy deserves a golden medal. I fucking love this one.

***SEXUAL ASSAULT TRIGGER WARNINGS***

Hi, I’m Negan/Nora. And this is Shaun. He. Is. Awesome.

Ada: The bot’s caravan had faced every threat the Commonwealth hive hosts: feral ghouls, super mutants, raiders and occasionally the Institute. She had thought that the greatest evil her caravan would ever encounter would be The Mechanist. Boy did she compute wrong. It was just like any other day when her caravan was attacked by the Saviors; who were much more organized than any other they had encountered, also wearing armor that doesn’t look like scrap welded together. It was down to her, Liza and Jackson when the Saviors circled her diminished caravan and began whistling as if taunting them or calling out for someone. Then came a quartet: to the right was raider looking thug with an eye patch; to the right was a redhead wearing a corset; in the middle was the leader, a vault dweller swinging a bat covered in barbed wire followed by a dog. “Who’s the moron who gave the order to smash all but one of MY new robots?” Jackson shouted “They aren’t your property!” The Vault Dweller turned in their direction and pointed towards Ada, “Well now they are. And is so she, Gage take the girl. She’s ours’ now, gonna make a good wife. That is if she condones it. Otherwise. She gets to have a chat with Shaun here” The one eyed Savior dragged a kicking Liza to a fate Ada wished she couldn’t predict. “So about the moron who left only one robot for me, step up.” A rather young woman stepped up. “(sigh) I thought you were smarter than this Isabel, you were the fucking technophilic MECHANIST.” They turn to the redhead “Cait, fuck her up.” Ada then deduced this vault dweller was going to be the end of her free life on the road. They walk up to her and hook her up to their pip-boy. “Sleep for now my little killing machine. But as for your friend here; he gets to meet Shaun.” Before Ada shuts down, the vault dweller slaps “Shaun” onto Jackson’s cheek so that the barbed wire is stuck to his face and rips his entire cheek off.

Cait: The Combat Zone was full of some of the toughest motherfuckers in the Commonwealth, but none were tougher than her. That is until the Saviors came knocking on the door and shot up the place, leaving no one alive but her and Tommy. They were tied down in the ring, Saviors blocking any exit and preventing any retaliation from the two prisoners. At this point Cait reverted to survival instinct: doing anything to get out of this alive. Tommy can go eat a dick. After a series of annoying whistles a dog and vault dweller wielding a barbed wire bat enters and squats down to meet both of their eyes. “So. Anyone gonna start begging? Y’know one, and only one of you two poor shits will get out of this alive. Who lives depends which one of you licks my boots the hardest.” Screw it.

“Go fuck yourself.” Cait spat.

“Ooh. You got guts. Spencer would be jealous. Maybe I’ll spill them.” As the vaultie reached for a knife, a Savior walked up to his ear and whispered something that stopped him. This Savior had an eye patch and smelled like Nuka Cola. “My bottom bitch here says I should give you a chance to be a Savior. Earn points, or become one of the wives. All you gotta do is kill your friend.” At that moment Cait snapped Tommy’s neck to save her own.

“He ain’t my friend. And I ain’t gonna be anyone’s wife”

Codsworth: 200 years alone. No one has ever set foot in Sanctuary, leaving a lone Mr. Handy to complete futile chores while he rusts away. His loneliness ends when Preston Garvey and his friends settle in the old neighborhood. The butler had new purpose and friends. Codsworth helped Sturges make Sanctuary into well… a sanctuary. This place became a booming place full of life and Codsworth thought “The master would have been able to raise Shaun here.” He spoke too soon. “Honey I’m home!” An explosion at the bridge broke the peace and Codsworth watched in disbelief as he witnessed his old master, as pristine as before they left for the Vault strut in holding a barbed wire bat and leading a rowdy group. The butler was in shock; he couldn’t hear the calls for help from the settlers. All his attention was aimed at his master. “Codsworth? Motherfucking Codsworth! How the hell have you been?” Codsworth felt a mix of disgust and joy: a distaste for this new persona but relief in seeing his master return to him alive. “Master Negan/Nora! Welcome home!” They put a bloodied hand over his dome and the two walked through a burning Sanctuary, all friendly like.

Curie: Vault 81 had a new resident after discovering a secret portion of the vault, a Ms. Nanny scientist called Curie. Being reintroduced to society allowed Curie to continue in her scientific endeavors to improve life. Her new life consisted of working in the clinic as well as helping teach at the school. An innocent to post war America, Curie had no idea of the savagery needed to survive outside the vault. Until a vault dweller with a different number opened the door with an army behind them. Going through the Vault with a barbed wire bat, killing any resisting dwellers; this person gave Curie a rude awakening to the brave new world that belong to the Saviors. The Ms. Nanny had a close encounter with them when she tried to stop the violence, being disabled except for her optics so she could see what’s to come. The Saviors had grouped all the adults and the vault dweller with the bat had them play Duck, Duck Goose with all the children watching. The Overseer was first to choose: duck… duck… duck… duck… duck… goo- SMASH. There goes Bobby. Curie couldn’t scream nor cry, only watch as the outsider killed all the adults in this sick game. “Whew! That was fun wasn’t it kids? Well all good things must come to an end, but don’t worry. My friends and I will be back for half of everything next time. And after that, And after that. Oh don’t cry now, you got Ms. Nanny over here to watch over you.” Curie is reactivated, but can only hover in silence. Curie closes the vault door behind them as they leave. Curie then gathers all the children and any food to the safest place she’s ever known: the secret lab. The scientist aims to keep these children safe from the horrors of the surface until the day she shuts down.

Danse: The Paladin left for the Commonwealth in hopes of uncovering lost technology for the Brotherhood. He knew it wouldn’t be easy; that he would have to face the threats of super mutants, the Institute and raiders. But never did he think he’d see the day raiders would get the best of a squad of trained Brotherhood soldiers. These Saviors were much more organized than the average raider and had armaments that rival that of the Gunners. Their outpost at Cambridge police station was infiltrated and one of them pickpocketed the fusion core out of Danse’s power armor while a handful got the best of Rhys, Haylen and the rest of his troops. While his team were held at their knees, one of the Saviors (with an eye patch) had a stare down with Rhys. It only lasted a minute, until the Savior began to stomp on Rhys. “Cease that at once you filthy-” WHAM! Something blunt and sharp came down on Danse’s head, leaving it as stable as a torn burlap sack full of potatoes. A vault dweller with a barbed wire bat walked in front of him; through his flowing blood, Danse saw the worst smile anyone could see before dying. “This power armor is a lemon! Shouldn’t it only clank about? All I hear is a bitch…… I have an idea.” WHAM!

Deacon: Kellogg had been the name to stir fear among HQ on account of him being the Institute’s number one enforcer and servant. When news reached Desdemona that some vault dweller named Negan/Nora killed him, a sense of relief swept through all members and she wanted to find this vault dweller in hopes of recruiting them. Deacon was the first agent she asked, but to her surprise he freaked out and refused. “That whack is hell walking on Earth, they make Kellogg look like a patron at Weenie Hut Jr’s!” So instead she sent Drummer Boy. After hearing of the order and giving Des a piece of his mind, Deacon rushed to intercept the runner. Instead he found the kid hanging from the side of a Red Rocket Stop near Sanctuary Hills. Wait Sanctuary Hills? Oh shit. He needed to know more, so he infiltrated Sanctuary and found Negan/Nora addressing their kneeling Saviors. “At least they ain’t Trump.”

With a loud, scary yet enthusiastic voice: “Who are we?!”

Everyone in unison “Negan/Nora.”

“We’re the new world order. We're the big swinging dick of this world, have been for a long fucking time...but it seems people are forgetting that. So now our big swinging dick is going to swing harder...and faster, until we take off like a motherfucking helicopter and blow all these motherfuckers away.” Wow. Before slipping away, a Mr. Handy tore off Deacon’s disguise and threw him in front of Negan/Nora. “Bald! My Eyes! Just dicking with you. Well I may end up dicking you anyway. Some of my men ran a train on that kid from the Railroad before I had them string up his corpse.” For the first the in Deacon’s life, he couldn’t crack a quip. “What? Was the joke that bad?”

Dogmeat: It was this dog’s sworn duty to help those in need. Most of the time he’s helping that metal man in the long coat. But the day he was attacked by mole rats at Red Rocket, he thought that this was the end. That is until a vault dweller charged in and smashed all the mole rats with a bat. “You fuckers are low! Ganging up on a dog! I should get some friends and return the favor to your mothers!” The way their voice drove fear into the mole rats as well as Dogmeat, the way they swung their bat, the way they came to help them. A NEW BEST FRIEND? “Those bastards are dead now, you ok boy? You’re a good boy. I bet you get all the bitches. More than me I bet. And I’ve had my share of harems here and there before the bombs dropped.” They spoke like raiders but acted like the metal man. Dogmeat began traveling with this dweller, it felt right. As if this had happened before. The pup stood by loyally as his new best friend burned a barn full of “ungrateful fucks”, befriend the one eyed man and make many more friends who fight with the two. This vault dweller was indeed special, who would they be without faithful Dogmeat?

Gage: A vault dweller in Nuka World doesn’t usually spell out change for Porter. He assumed the park would chew them up and spit them out in a day. Boy did they prove him wrong when they beat Colter to death with a barbed wire bat instead of following his advice. The Pack and Disciples immediately fell in love with this newcomer swearing loyalty to someone as bloodthirsty as them. The Operators weren’t impressed, seeing only a brute even when Gage allied with them. “I’m Negan/Nora. And so are the rest of you. From now on, you’re all my Saviors. I am your Savior.” After organizing the two gangs, Gage’s first advice was to assimilate the Operators. Instead, Negan/Nora led an assault on the defect gang, leaving few survivors; giving them one last chance to be a Savior or live to serve them. All but one gave in, Mags. So the new Overboss slapped a slave collar on her and threw her to Gage. “First one’s on me, first mate.”

“No fucking way, you’re worse than Colter.” Just as Gage began to rip her shirt, the Overboss stopped him.

“Stop you retarded fuck! Didn’t you hear her? She said no! Just lock her up.” Gage was shocked but intrigued at this motion of mercy. This monster has a heart, or at least some moral compass.

“This is going to be one interesting run.”

Hancock: It took everything in the ghoul’s being to surrender to Negan/Nora after they smashed in Kent and Magnolia. Not to mention taking Fahrenheit. “She's got guts - not a little bitch like someone I know. I like her. She's mine now.” That’s all they said, and just like that she was gone. She tried to punch them, and Magnolia paid the price. And Kent, all he did was cry. “Welcome to a brand new beginning you sorry shits.” Sorry especially for Hancock. No longer was he a freedom fighter, he was a husk. He might as well just wander into the Glowing Sea to turn feral. He couldn’t possibly be the leader Goodneighbor needs. Hancock watched as the Saviors went into every building taking half of everything. The most painful sight was Fahrenheit being ordered around like some hired help. Just before they left, Negan/Nora demanded “We gave you service. YOUR WELCOME!”

With a depleted spirit, Hancock whimpered “Thank you.”

“I just slid my dick down your throat and you just thanked me for it.”

Longfellow: The old timer was wary of the major threats in Far Harbor: synths, the fauna and of course the Children of Atom. Never in a million years would Longfellow ever see raiders as more than a nuisance. Negan’s/Nora’s Saviors were much more than raiders. At first they appeared to be guns for hire, offering to deal with the Children of Atom. They demanded a hefty payment of half of everything the town produced, but they delivered High Confessor Tektus. Negan/Nora then proceeded to beat him to death with “Shaun”, that bat they always carry. This single act impressed Longfellow not only because it made Far Harbor safer, but he was able to see the leader of the cult that took Hannah suffer. “Smash that son of a bitch in! Where’s your Atom now you bastard?” He was the only one cheering, everyone else either turned away ran away. It was because of Longfellow’s deviance, that Negan/Nora offered him a place with them. Why not? These people seem to be likeminded and he gets a cut of the profits. Their next job was to take care of Acadia. Longfellow assumed they’d address this differently, seeing how these synths weren’t exactly the crazed psychos of the Atom. But they hogtied DiMA and dragged him to the center of the town and did the same: beat his head in with Shaun. Longfellow knew this was his cue to leave. Under the cover of mist, Longfellow snuck onto a boat headed for Point Lookout in hopes of escaping the wrath of Negan/Nora.

MacCready: The merc without a potty mouth had taken notice of the lack of Gunners and threats from Winlock and Barnes. This was a tragedy disguised as a blessing, which Mac finds out when Hancock is reduced to a sobbing mess after a vault dweller bashes in Kent and Magnolia. Not to mention enslaving Fahrenheit. The reason why the Gunners were dying out was because these “Saviors” killed them all and extorted any settlement; claiming they were providing protection. All this was happening because of that vault dweller, Negan/Nora. Mac knew he had to leave the place and set up shop elsewhere, maybe that Sanctuary place up north. As Mac packed up and started heading out, he was face to face with the devil themself. With the creepiest smile, Negan/Nora gently took Mac’s rifle and bag full of food, caps and supplies. “I love a guy who buys me dinner and doesn’t expect me to put out.” Afterwards Mac began speed walking away which turned into running away in whatever direction gets him away from there.

Nick: The gumshoe was trapped in Vault 114 for at least 2 weeks, having to deal with Skinny Malone’s triggermen jeering at him through the glass. During his time he noticed Skinny discussing with the men about “dwindling supplies” and “not being able to make anymore payments.” Nick knew that this gang was going into disarray, which means an opportunity to escape will arise. So he bided his time until he saw through the glass Malone meeting with a smug looking vault dweller with Dogmeat (?!) at their side. The two parlayed for a bit until the dweller became agitated and began beating Malone to death with a bat. At that moment Darla fell into the room locking the door behind her in a panic. Nick went to her aid, but heard advancing footsteps. He hid Darla in a large vent behind the Overseer desk and went to deal with the threat. “Holy crap! You are freaky as shit. Anyway, you see a lady around? Skinny’s girl?”

“Would you like to see where they dumped the broad?”

Sigh “I knew this would happen. Did Skinny eat the bitch? Whatever, come on out.” Nick winked in Darla’ direction before following the vault dweller. Hope they don’t notice the pistol in his coat.

Piper: First McDonough gives up without a fight to these Saviors, now they’ve taken all the guns! All except Piper’s. She’s never met their leader, supposedly called Negan/Nora but she knows they’re a vault dweller so Blue means danger. The day they did pay a visit, Piper had forgotten to keep Nat in check. “You should all go home. Before you learn just how dangerous we all are.” No!

Negan/Nora drew closer to Nat, and so did their swatter. “Pardon me young lady and excuse the shit out of my Goddamn French, but did you just threaten me?” Of all the things her sister can do, this is the most stupidest thing she’s ever done. Why would she do it? Because her goddamn sister taught her to stand up to scum like Negan/Nora. “How about I take that printing press of yours? Or should I just take you home?” Something in Piper snapped, no one threatens her family. BANG Crap. In that moment a red-headed Savior disarmed Piper and tackled her to the ground. “Shit! WHAT THE SHIT! DID YOU JUST TRY TO KILL ME? YOU SHOT SHAUN!”

“He got in the way.”

Holding their bat over her head, Negan/Nora went back to their happy go lucky voice. “Cait! Kill someone.”

Preston: After establishing Sanctuary as a new home with the help of a friendly Mr. Handy, Preston actually believed things were turning for the better. All that ended when Negan/Nora’s Saviors shot their way into Sanctuary. To make things worse, Codsworth seems to be obligated to obey Negan/Nora. After wiping out most of the settlers leaving a handful alive for a line-up. Negan/Nora began going through all of the people Preston have come to call his friends. Reaching Mama Murphy they taunted “You look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now.”

Out of his protective instinct “Just stop!”

The vault dweller then bent down to meet his eyes “All right, listen. Don't any of you do that again. I will shut that shit down, no exceptions. First one's free. It's an emotional moment, I get it.”

Preston felt the same rage he felt at Quincy. “I’m gonna kill you.”

Negan/Nora retorted sarcastically “What? I didn’t quite catch that, you’re gonna have to speak up.”

“Not today, not tomorrow, but I’m gonna kill you.”

Scoff “Are you kidding me? Did you see what just happened, what I just did? Your best chance is to stand up, grab my knife, and drive it through my head. See how you do. Keep actin' tough. Go ahead. Grab the damn knife.”

Strong: The brute waited in the prison on top of Trinity Tower while Rex quoted MacBeth to pass the time. It wasn’t until their third day in the cage, when a vault dweller, their dog, a one-eyed man and redhead bashed their way to the top. After killing Fist, the vault dweller stood at the top, inhaled and took in the view. “Hot diggity dog. This the type of shit that just tickles my balls.” Strong was drawn to this blue person, impressed by how they killed all his brothers. After being freed, Rex immediately went to thank him only to be told to piss off. Directing their attention back to the mutant, Negan/Nora “Wanna kill for me? I won’t kill you. You owe me.”

“Only if we look for the Milk of Human Kindness.”

Negan/Nora disregarded his request, only interested in having the muscle. Strong traveled in hopes of finding the Milk while he followed his new leader. Everything was simple, until Negan/Nora announced they were going to attack a settlement. “Why humans attack other humans? Brothers would never attack other brothers.”

“Well not everyone can be big, green, ugly motherfuckers.” Strong was shocked, his one chance to fulfill his destiny is someone who goes against everything he stands for. The killing is great, but is it worth it when he’s stomping on innocent lives.

“Strong is leaving!”

Sigh. “I had high hopes for your green ass. Before you leave, give a proper farewell to Shaun.”

X6-88: After hearing Father’s parent had killed Kellogg, the Courser was sent to gather intel on this candidate for the next director. “I couldn’t disagree more in Father’s choice of successors.” Negan/Nora was a leader, but their personality and intentions were far from the Institute’s goal of improving humanity. Despite his constant objections, X6 was still ordered to continue observing Negan/Nora. One day the dweller strolled alone in the southern part of Boston, only to encounter a voice from a fridge. They shot the door open only to find a ghoulified kid.

X6 listened in: “You look disgusting! Have you seen it? Have you looked in a mirror? I wouldn’t blame you if you hadn’t. It’s fucking gross.” The child began crying. “Oh damn. Holy shit, kid. I’m sorry.” The vault dweller is apologizing? Not only that, they’re escorting the child home? Past intel has identified Negan/Nora having an unstable personality. But who knew they were capable of compassion?

“Perhaps I’ve misjudged them.” X6 followed them and was about to get involved when Negan/Nora was confronted by slavers demanding to take the child. All were dead in under a minute with Negan/Nora swinging their bat at each. “Last chance! Try to take this kid and I’ll force Shaun up your asses. You know what? Too fucking late!”

More intel is needed.

[omenbrought]

you’re  nine  the  first  time  it  happens.   correction:   you’re  nine  the  first  time  you  notice;   it  could  have  been  happening  all  along.   probably  was happening  all  along,   actually,   but  you  don’t  have  the  gumption  to  mull  that  thought  over  for  very  long.  it’s  all  too  confusing  as  it  is.

posters  litter  the  walls  of  your  dark  red  bedroom,   tokens  from  your  bouts  around  the  city  with  aline.   she’s  pretty  much  the  only  girl  you  know,   though  how  well  can  you  know  someone  who  visits  new  york  maybe  once  or  twice  a  year?  regardless,    those  trips  through  new  york  have  taught  you  one  thing:   this  is  what  girls  your  age  do.   they  plaster  their  bedrooms  with  posters  of  mundie  singers,   with  their  platinum  blonde-tipped  hair  and  suspiciously  orange-hued  tans.   they  bow  their  heads  together  and  giggle,   the  sound  practically  foreign  to  your  isolated  ears.  there  isn’t  room  for  gigglingin  the  hollowed  halls  of  the  institute;   only  grunts  of  pain  and  groans  of  frustration  as  you  train  &  train  &  train.

but  some  part  of  you  longs  for  that  sense  of  normalcy,   for  a  female  friend  to  giggle  with  about  the  pretty  boys  on  ridiculously  oversized  posters.  so  you  hang  them,   paste  them  all  over  your  bedroom,  brows  furrowed  in  concentration   —   they  must  be  hung  perfectly,   of  course,   because  that’s  the  only  way.   (  nevermind  the fact  the  chances  of  anyone  seeing  these  is  slim-to-none ).  

except,   someone  does  see  them:   first,  your  mom,  who  doesn’t  seem  too  impressed  by  the  mundies  donning  her  daughter’s  bedroom  walls.  ❛  honestly,  isabelle,  couldn’t  you  find  anything  else  with  which  to  decorate  your  bedroom?   ❜   ( the  one  female  in  your   life  and  she  can’t  even  pretend  to  think  these  boys  are  cute.  it’s  positively  rude,  really ).  then,  your  brother.   your  big  brother,  with  all  of  his  self-possession  and  furrowed  looks,  who  you  can  only  assume  will  think  the  posters  are  stupid.  

(   spoiler  alert:  he  doesn’t  think  they’re  stupid  at  all  ).

the  first  time  he  comes  into  your  room,  he  looks… confused.   almost  like  he’s  stepped  into  some  sort  of  weird  other-world  in  which  his  little  sister  is  some  mundie  obsessed with  crappy  mundie  music.   (  honestly,  those  are  probably  his  exact  thoughts ).   but  then  he  comes  back.    and  then  back  again.   and  the  fourth  time  he  comes  back,  you  aren’t  even  in your  room.   you’re  in  the  training  room,  twisting  your  body  this  way  and  that,  already  learning  how  to  throw  punches  and  land  blows  at  the  tender  age  of  eight.

you  find  him  there,   when  you  return  to  your  room.   sweat  glistens  on  your  warm  skin  as  you  stand,  blinking,   in  your  bedroom  doorway.   he  doesn’t  notice  you  at  first   ( you’re  very  good at  sneaking ),  giving  you  a  few,  drawn-out  seconds  to  watch  him  watch….  the  walls?   dark  eyes  dart  around  the  room,   trying  to  figure  out  what   he’s  even looking  at,   before  it  hits  you:   your  posters.   he’s  looking  at  the  boys  in  your  posters.

why  would  your  big  brother  want  to  look  at your  posters?

you  might’ve  watched  him  longer,   brows  furrowed  as  a  certain  feeling  of  unease begins  to  burrow  itself  in  your  stomach.   the  look  in  his  eyes  is  familiar,  and  you  don’t  know  what  to  think.   is  he  considering  bleaching  the  tips  of  his  hair?  ( by  the  angel,  that  would  look  terrible,  alec,  so  don’t  even —- )   is  he  interested  in  picking  up  music  as  a  side  hobby?  ( but  that  might  take  away  from  training,  and  shadowhunters  don’t  — )   is  he…

❛  isabelle!   i  told  you  to —-   ❜   your  mother  appears,   suddenly  and  without  warning   ( guess  you  know  where  you  get  your  sneaking  skills,  huh? ).   you  start,   and  so  does  he.   his blue  eyes  dart  towards  your  mother,   color  already  beginning  to  creep  up  his  neck  and  along  his  cheeks.   he  looks…. angry?   embarrassed?   scared?  it’s  a  look  you’ve  never  seen  on  him   before,   and  that  unease  in  the  pit  of  your  stomach  gives  way  to  panic.   pure,   unending  panic,    a  fierce  protectiveness  over  your  big  brother  suddenly  rocketing  straight  to  your  core.

faintly,   you  hear  your  mother  question  what  he’s  doing.   you  hear  her  ask  why  he’d  even  be  in  your  room  right  now,   and  you  see  the  way  his  color  deepens.   without  hesitation,  you  spin  on  your  heel,   expression  schooling  into  careful  innocence.   ❛  i  told  alec  to  wait  here  for  me,  mom.   i  wanted  to  show  him  what  i  learned  in  training  today.   ❜  

she  doesn’t  look  entirely  convinced,   the  discoloring  of  alec’s  face  probably  enough  to  make  her  question,   but  you  don’t budge.   you’d  go  to  your  grave  with  this  lie,   you  realize,   if  it’ll  keep  alec  from  looking  like  that  ever  again.   over  your  shoulder,  you  hear  him  agree.  weakly?  maybe,  but  something  about  it  convinces  your  mother  to  believe.  ( or  maybe  she  just  wants  to  believe,  because  that’d  be  easier  than  this  uneasy,   uncertain,  afraid-for-alec  feeling  you’re experiencing  right  now ).    after  one  more  reminder  for  you  to  change,   she  takes  off  down  the  hall,  her  shoes  clicking  on  the  floor.  

you  expect  him  to  be  grateful,   to  sag  with  relief  when  you  turn  back  to  fac e him.   whatever  this  was,   you  saved  him  from  your  mother’s  prying  eye.   you  helped  him  out,  like  any  good  little  sister  would.

but  he  doesn’t  thank  you.   doesn’t  even  look  at  you.   instead,  without  a  word,  your  big  brother  brushes  past  you  and  heads  in  the  direction  of  his  room,   leaving  you  even  more  confused  &  uncertain  than  ever.

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: Tell Me Where To Find Shelter -- The Reboot

Okay, so -- this past Saturday, I brought back the Pentatonix/Lindsey Stirling cover of Imagine Dragon’s “Radioactive,” and commented that part of the reason the song was on my mind was because I’ve been really getting into Fallout 4, which I’m playing with Victor as my Sole Survivor. This mean that, of course, I have a Valice AU for the game -- “Tell Me Where To Find Shelter.” I originally came up with a rather simplistic version of the AU aaaalll the way back in 2016, based on what little I knew about the game (and the series in general) from getting into the Fallout Shelter mobile game and seeing a friend’s posts about her Sole Survivor. That original version could be summed up as basically “the prologue sequence, only Victor and Victoria are secretly in a poly relationship with Emily, who dies too when their kid is stolen, and Victor discovers Alice alive in the Vault as the only other one who made it -- they go out into the Wasteland together to discover what happened to Victor’s kid.” Pretty simple, right?

Yeah, you can throw all that out. Now, I have actually played the game, spoiled myself on the main quest and a lot of the side quests because I don’t give a damn, and have done a bit of research on the history of the Fallout verse as a whole. (Short version: It sucks. It sucks a lot.) So I have a lot of new ideas, meaning it’s time to reboot this verse! I wouldn’t expect a full-fledged story to come out of this (you’ve seen me panicking over the size of “Londerland Bloodlines,” right? Which is based off an action RPG that is reasonably linear and has a timeline of a month? Fallout 4 is open world and while the main quest is linear, the fact that I’ve been able to ignore it for MONTHS in-game because I can’t say no to Preston Garvey is -- eeep), but I may at least do a few snippets and whatnot.

So! Let me share what I’ve got regarding Victor’s history as the Sole Survivor of Vault 111 -- I’m gonna try to keep it to more general thoughts as I’m not totally up on the history of the Fallout world, and things may have to be adjusted if I later discover that something in the canon strongly contradicts it:

-->I have got his birth date: June 9th, 2050. This makes him 27 at the start of Fallout 4, which I felt was reasonable based on the Fallout Wiki stating both Sole Survivors were likely born between the early 2040s and the mid 2050s.

-->I still want him to be born in England, and have his family move to America a little later in his life -- though when is complicated by the whole Euro-Middle Eastern War and the New Plague putting America under quarantine for a while. The latest I can imagine is them making it over in his early teens or so, having left the broken-down wreck of the U.K. to rebuild fortunes in America.

-->They do indeed rebuild fortunes in America -- Boston, Massachusetts, to be precise. William sets up an extremely lucrative fish-canning business and makes sure to support the military extensively. (The Four Leaf fishpacking plant is almost certainly one of his in this timeline.)

-->The Victor/Victoria/Emily poly thing still happens, kicked off by Victor’s parents pressuring him into dating Victoria (whom he likes), Victor making friends with Emily (whom he also likes) -- and Victor accidentally asking Emily to prom via trying to rehearse his lines to ask Victoria to prom. Feeling bad as Emily is coming off a really bad breakup with an ass named Barkis (who stole a lot of money from her in a long con), he clears it with both girls to take Emily, and later they help defend Victoria when Barkis returns during the party and try to rob her. This leads to a close friendship, which eventually becomes something more.

-->Victor ends up being pulled into the Sino-American war straight out of high school -- William attempts to buy his way out, but for once his money doesn’t work, and Victor ends up fighting in Anchorage, Alaska.

-->This version of Victor, while still into butterflies and moths, is also a tinkerer, and quickly becomes known among his fellow soldiers in Fox Company (108th Infantry Regiment, 2nd Battalion) as “that guy who can fix anything with duct tape and Wonderglue.” (I do enjoy my armor and gun mods -- everything must be deep pocketed!)

-->I’m not sure what Victor does to earn his “decorated war hero” status yet (probably saved the lives of a lot of men with some quick repairs and shooting), but it’s enough to finally get him discharged around 2076. Victoria and Emily had gotten together while he was stuck fighting, but are only too happy to let him into their relationship. Victor officially marries Victoria to keep his parents happy, and they move into Sanctuary Hills with Emily pretending to be their “eventual live-in babysitter” to avoid scrutiny from the parents.

-->And then, during a park escapade, Victoria ends up pregnant. Baby Shaun is welcomed to the world July 31st, 2077. Everyone is thrilled, and Victor picks up a Mr. Handy soon afterward to help with baby care.

-->And then, of course, the bombs drop on October 23rd, 2077. Victor, Victoria, Emily, and Shaun just barely make it into Vault 111, and end up in cryonic suspension -- Victoria is later shot when her and Victor’s pods are reactivated during the kidnapping, and Emily dies quietly when the life support is cut to all but Victor’s pod. Victor is absolutely devastated by their deaths, and takes Victoria’s wedding ring and Emily’s favorite butterfly hair clip as mementos to remember them by before leaving Vault 111.

-->As for the actual game stuff:

Victor’s starting SPECIAL stats were Strength 4, Perception 3, Endurance 7, Charisma 2, Intelligence 8, Agility 3, Luck 3. I’ve been mainly improving Strength for carry weight, though I recently started working seriously on bumping up Charisma because I have realized making it a dump stat was probably not the greatest idea.

I can’t list all his current perks off the top of my head, but Armorer and Gun Nut are up there -- he’s very much a shooty-bang-bang kind of guy, and I believe I mentioned loving deep pockets?

Victor hasn’t met all the factions yet, but -- he’s definitely a Minuteman. I am so easily distracted by those quests, it’s not even funny. ...Well, it’s a little funny. XD He was only too happy to help Preston Garvey’s group set up in Sanctuary Hills, and he and Preston are best friends now -- aka, Preston’s the first companion who idolizes me and whose perk I got. He’s a LITTLE awkward about the whole “General” thing (”Preston, you’re the one always telling ME what to do”) but he’ll grow into it.

As for the other factions -- he’s met Paladin Danse and helped him out at Arcjet, but refused the offer to join the Brotherhood. . .he might go back and do some missions with them, but I don’t think he’s going to like Elder Maxson’s views on synths and ghouls (Super Mutants -- okay, Super Mutants are assholes). He hasn’t met the Railroad yet, but I think he’ll like them and join up to help, even if he thinks some of their methods need tweaking. The Institute -- I think he’ll be of the mind that their discoveries are good, but they’re using them for such evil purposes, and -- ugh.

That being said, I’d like to go for the Minutemen ending that does not require warring with the Brotherhood of Steel, simply because there are kids on that airship and I’d feel bad shooting it down. If there was a way to just get rid of Maxson and maybe yank the Brotherhood closer to its Fallout 3 views. . .and if not blowing up the Institute was an option, Victor would be for it. Getting rid of the top brass who have completely written off the Commonwealth is one thing -- but the building, with all its advances? That could be useful.

Oh, and yes, he is adopting Synth Shaun -- but he is letting the kid know who and what he is, to help him forge his own path in life. (Synth Shaun also correctly guesses his new Dad feels awkward calling him by his predecessor’s name, and they decide on “Chester” instead.)

As for companions he’s currently met -- mentioned already that Preston’s his best friend, and he’s a solid supporter of the Minutemen. He adores Dogmeat and has made him a doghouse to live in at the Red Rocket near Sanctuary. He likes Piper Wright and her desire to spread the news quite a lot (and finds her attractive too). Danse he admires for his commitment to his men and his cause, but doesn’t really know him beyond that due to not joining the BoS. He IS very thankful for the gun, though -- Righteous Authority is useful! Codsworth and he had some rough moments at the beginning (I gave Mama Murphy some Jet for a vision, and poor guy got in the way of some friendly fire on an early trip), but seeing Victor get his modding on has improved their relationship quite a bit (Codsworth sees it as Victor getting back to his old helpful self). He’s encountered Ada and has grown quite fond of the little robot, wanting to help her avenge her slaughtered caravan family (WHY CAN I NOT HUG THE ROBOT). And he’s rescued Strong from Trinity Tower. . .and ended up getting sick of the Super Mutant’s constant negative comments toward humanity and inability to figure out stealth. He was helpful in taking back The Castle, but currently Victor’s got him living with a couple of settlers as a “guard” of sorts, in the hopes it’ll keep him busy and out of Victor’s hair.

And now you may notice there’s a strange lack in this longer-than-I-anticipated write-up. . .namely, where the hell is Alice? Well, that question has three answers:

-->For the purposes of my playthrough, I’m designating Piper as Alice -- she’s going to be Victor’s romance option in this game. (Me turning my attention to boosting Charisma may have been inspired by being unable to flirt with her during an affinity conversation no matter how many times I reloaded.)

-->An idea I had recently to put Alice in the verse was have her as a native-born Wastelander/escapee from a Vault (latter would probably be best to keep her history -- oh cripes, maybe she was from a Vault where BUMBY was OVERSEER, imagine THAT horror) who discovers the history of the “Order of Mysteries” (a group of women, lead by the old voice actress of the Mistress of Mysteries, who turned herself into a legit superhero post-Great War -- unfortunately betrayal led to the group dying out) and decides to take up the mantle, much like the Sole Survivor can become the Silver Shroud. She’d show up not long after Victor starts Shrouding around, asking to meet -- they’d have a little spar, end up fighting another enemy together, and she’d join up as a companion, leading to eventual romance.

-->But the first idea I had to get Alice into the story was. . .well. . .

Let me put it this way -- for quite a while, I was playing both Vampire: the Masquerade -- Bloodlines and Fallout 4 at the same time.

. . .yeah, I think this is going to need another post.

[storyownedaa]

you’re  nine  the  first  time  it  happens.   correction:   you’re  nine  the  first  time  you  notice;   it  could  have  been  happening  all  along.   probably  was happening  all  along,   actually,   but  you  don’t  have  the  gumption  to  mull  that  thought  over  for  very  long.  it’s  all  too  confusing  as  it  is.

posters  litter  the  walls  of  your  dark  red  bedroom,   tokens  from  your  bouts  around  the  city  with  aline.   she’s  pretty  much  the  only  girl  you  know,   though  how  well  can  you  know  someone  who  visits  new  york  maybe  once  or  twice  a  year?  regardless,    those  trips  through  new  york  have  taught  you  one  thing:   this  is  what  girls  your  age  do.   they  plaster  their  bedrooms  with  posters  of  mundie  singers,   with  their  platinum  blonde-tipped  hair  and  suspiciously  orange-hued  tans.   they  bow  their  heads  together  and  giggle,   the  sound  practically  foreign  to  your  isolated  ears.  there  isn’t  room  for  giggling in  the  hollowed  halls  of  the  institute;   only  grunts  of  pain  and  groans  of  frustration  as  you  train  &  train  &  train.

but  some  part  of  you  longs  for  that  sense  of  normalcy,   for  a  female  friend  to  giggle  with  about  the  pretty  boys  on  ridiculously  oversized  posters.  so  you  hang  them,   paste  them  all  over  your  bedroom,  brows  furrowed  in  concentration   —   they  must  be  hung  perfectly,   of  course,   because  that’s  the  only  way.   (  nevermind  the fact  the  chances  of  anyone  seeing  these  is  slim-to-none ).  

except,   someone  does  see  them:   first,  your  mom,  who  doesn’t  seem  too  impressed  by  the  mundies  donning  her  daughter’s  bedroom  walls.  ❛  honestly,  isabelle,  couldn’t  you  find  anything  else  with  which  to  decorate  your  bedroom?   ❜   ( the  one  female  in  your   life  and  she  can’t  even  pretend  to  think  these  boys  are  cute.  it’s  positively  rude,  really).  then,  your  brother.   your  big  brother,  with  all  of  his  self-possession  and  furrowed  looks,  who  you  can  only  assume  will  think  the  posters  are  stupid.  

(   spoiler  alert:  he  doesn’t  think  they’re  stupid  at  all  ).

the  first  time  he  comes  into  your  room,  he  looks… confused.   almost  like  he’s  stepped  into  some  sort  of  weird  other-world  in  which  his  little  sister  is  some  mundie  obsessed with  crappy  mundie  music.   (  honestly,  those  are  probably  his  exact  thoughts ).   but  then  he  comes  back.    and  then  back  again.   and  the  fourth  time  he  comes  back,  you  aren’t  even  in your  room.   you’re  in  the  training  room,  twisting  your  body  this  way  and  that,  already  learning  how  to  throw  punches  and  land  blows  at  the  tender  age  of  eight.

you  find  him  there,   when  you  return  to  your  room.   sweat  glistens  on  your  warm  skin  as  you  stand,  blinking,   in  your  bedroom  doorway.   he  doesn’t  notice  you  at  first   (you’re  very  good at  sneaking ),  giving  you  a  few,  drawn-out  seconds  to  watch  him  watch….  the  walls?   dark  eyes  dart  around  the  room,   trying  to  figure  out  what   he’s  even looking  at,   before  it  hits  you:   your  posters.   he’s  looking  at  the  boys  in  your  posters.

why  would  your  big  brother  want  to  look  at your  posters?

you  might’ve  watched  him  longer,   brows  furrowed  as  a  certain  feeling  of  unease begins  to  burrow  itself  in  your  stomach.   the  look  in  his  eyes  is  familiar,  and  you  don’t  know  what  to  think.   is  he  considering  bleaching  the  tips  of  his  hair?  ( by  the  angel,  that  would  look  terrible,  alec,  so  don’t  even —- )   is  he  interested  in  picking  up  music  as  a  side  hobby?  ( but  that  might  take  away  from  training,  and  shadowhunters  don’t  — )   is  he…

❛  isabelle!   i  told  you  to —-   ❜   your  mother  appears,   suddenly  and  without  warning   (guess  you  know  where  you  get  your  sneaking  skills,  huh? ).   you  start,   and  so  does  he.   his blue  eyes  dart  towards  your  mother,   color  already  beginning  to  creep  up  his  neck  and  along  his  cheeks.   he  looks…. angry?   embarrassed?   scared?  it’s  a  look  you’ve  never  seen  on  him   before,   and  that  unease  in  the  pit  of  your  stomach  gives  way  to  panic.   pure,   unending  panic,    a  fierce  protectiveness  over  your  big  brother  suddenly  rocketing  straight  to  your  core.

faintly,   you  hear  your  mother  question  what  he’s  doing.   you  hear  her  ask  why  he’d  even  be  in  your  room  right  now,   and  you  see  the  way  his  color  deepens.   without  hesitation,  you  spin  on  your  heel,   expression  schooling  into  careful  innocence.   ❛  i  told  alec  to  wait  here  for  me,  mom.   i  wanted  to  show  him  what  i  learned  in  training  today.   ❜  

she  doesn’t  look  entirely  convinced,   the  discoloring  of  alec’s  face  probably  enough  to  make  her  question,   but  you  don’t budge.   you’d  go  to  your  grave  with  this  lie,   you  realize,   if  it’ll  keep  alec  from  looking  like  that  ever  again.   over  your  shoulder,  you  hear  him  agree.  weakly?  maybe,  but  something  about  it  convinces  your  mother  to  believe.  ( or  maybe  she  just  wants  to  believe,  because  that’d  be  easier  than  this  uneasy,   uncertain,  afraid-for-alec  feeling  you’re experiencing  right  now ).    after  one  more  reminder  for  you  to  change,   she  takes  off  down  the  hall,  her  shoes  clicking  on  the  floor.  

you  expect  him  to  be  grateful,   to  sag  with  relief  when  you  turn  back  to  fac e him.   whatever  this  was,   you  saved  him  from  your  mother’s  prying  eye.   you  helped  him  out,  like  any  good  little  sister  would.

but  he  doesn’t  thank  you.   doesn’t  even  look  at  you.   instead,  without  a  word,  your  big  brother  brushes  past  you  and  heads  in  the  direction  of  his  room,   leaving  you  even  more  confused  &  uncertain  than  ever.