#holy shit the tension

[dem0nguy]

Christmas was in full swing at La Résistance headquarters; halls decked with garland, windows adorned with festive curtains, Christmas tree garnished with homemade ornaments.

And all eight of La Résistance’s members, finishing up the decor in the rec room.

Well, all eight of them were in the rec room, but not all eight were decorating.

It was really just Vegan-Su doing all the work, Apocalipsis helping to reach the high places whenever needed.

Brutux and Dr. White sat on the couch, in front of the fireplace/TV playing a video of a crackling fire, listening to Christmas music.

BP and Katani had taken mistletoe, stuck it to a stick with fishing line, and gone around holding it above peoples heads trying to get them to kiss.

Shooter would be lying if he said it wasn’t hilarious

Sheriff was goofing off, per usual. Wandering from person to person, cracking a joke, throwing an insult, getting punched in the face by Vegan-Su when the mistletoe made its way over to them, accidentally breaking an ornament, getting tangled in the Christmas lights—The list could go on.

But Shooter didn’t care about how long the list was, he just cared about the man behind it.

Sheriff, he loved him—

No he didn’t love him. He couldn’t love him. But god did he love him anyways.

Sheriff, and his bright orange hair like that of a fire; drifting out and up, sending scalding embers of his personality wherever he went. Sheriff, and his elegant teal-blue eyes that glow brighter than ice shining in the morning light. Put side by side you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the two, their beauty unparalleled in the great expanse of winter.

But Shooter could tell the difference.

Shooter knew the deepness of Sheriff’s eyes, like the sky, infinite and beautiful. Full of possibility. He knew the gentle touch of his lightly tanned skin; from the few times Sheriff had sought comfort in Shooter’s arms.

He knew Sheriff’s cockiness, how much of an idiot he could be sometimes. How he could fuck up so badly, yet make it out fine. How he could be so dumb, yet have everything work for him.

But Shooter loved it. He loved everything about Sheriff, from his dumbassary to his sweet giddy smiles.

He only wishes he actually could love him.

Shooter sighs, staring out the window he placed his menorah in. The menorah that Sheriff, had gotten for him. (Alongside enough candles to last all of Hanukah, which makes Shooter doubt that Sheriff had actually found this all on his own.)

“Hey Shoooooooter!” The man in question saunters toward him. Ready to continue his antics.

“You look reallllllll lonely over here you know,” Sheriff teases, “Why don’t you stop being uh…” He thinks for a moment, “damn it, Brutux what was the word again?!”

Shooter can hear Brutux sigh from the other side of the room, “A Debbie Downer?” “What he said!” Sheriff smirks.

Shooter rolls his eyes. He’s such an idiot… “I ain’t bein’ a ‘Debbie Downer’ Sheriff. I’m just thinking.”

“Mhm, bout what?”

Shooter shrugs, red tinting the tips of his ears. You “Nothing much.”

They stare out the window together, barren desert wasteland surrounds the headquarters. It looked the same year round, no matter where you went.

And most of the time, it was hot. Hotter than you’d think it could ever get. The Big Fart sped up climate change, and it hadn’t snowed since then, but it still got fairly chilly this time of year.

Proof of that was last night, up on the roof, when Sheriff pressed into Shooter’s side for warmth against the bitter darkness.

It still made his heart flutter to think about…

“Lovely weather we’re having huh?” Sheriff interrupts his thoughts.

“Beautiful weather,” Shooter chuckles, “Should be expecting snow any day now!”

Sheriff laughs with him, “Man! I can’t remember the last time I saw snow.”

“Neither can I.”

“You lived in the city, didn’t you?”

Shooter nods, “Yeah, our snow weren’t as clean as what you’d get out in the rural parts.”

“You’d be surprised.” Sheriff shrugs, “I remember one time I was playing with the pigs out in the snow, and I swear not five minutes later, all of that snow became mud.” He chuckles, “Ryan came out after a while to play too, and made a point to tell me not to eat the muddy snow. But I think it was a little too late for that…”

Sheriff exhales a reminiscent sigh that begs for the past to come back to him. “I miss that farm, the pigs, and Ryan…”

“Hey, don’t be a Debbie Downer!” Shooter teases, eliciting a smirk from Sheriff.

“You’re right! It’s the season to be jolly after all!” He laughs, before frowning again. “I just wish he was still here…”

Shooter puts a gentle hand on Sheriff’s shoulder. He flinches at the sudden touch, before leaning into it. “You got us Sheriff,” Shooter tries to comfort him, “You got us.”

Sheriff nods, “Thanks Sho—“ mistletoe smacks him in the face.

“Whoops! Sorry!” Katani laughs, moving the mistletoe stick.

Sheriff and Shooter share a confused glance, before looking up.

SHIT—OH MY FUCKIN—SHHHHHHHIITT

Shooters face is what most accurately displays his reaction; bright red. And he knew it too.

“Come on guys, it ain’t gay to kiss your homies!” BP encourages, giggling with Katani.

Sheriff awkwardly laughs, “I mean, he’s right you know?” Shooter doesn’t dare look at him.

Looking at him would make Shooter want to kiss him.

“Come on Shooter, I’m not that bad of a kisser! Swear on it!” Him and his cocky personality, back at it again…

Shooter looks him in the eye, and fucking shit. That was a bad idea. He wanted to disappear into the teal universe that was Sheriff’s eyes, disappear forever in something so beautiful, that it made him a blushing, red, sweaty, shaky, mess.

Every time he dared to meet his gaze.

“Shooter?” Sheriff’s voice draws him out of his mind, prompting him to absentmindedly take a step forward. “Hey I mean, if you don’t wanna do this it’s cool you kn—“

He kissed him.

He actually kissed him.

Only for a split second before pulling back and awkwardly laughing, “You ain’t that bad of a kisser Sheriff, no worries!” He takes a step back, “Ima uh… head off now.”

He hastily walks out of the room, leaving Sheriff in shock, BP and Katani cackling to themselves, and not a single other soul bothered.

Except himself of course.

Because holy shit, he kissed him.

End

I did it yet again, I wrote us some SheriffxShooter content. I was originally gonna make it more fluffy, but I wanted romantic tension so that’s what we get :3

Happy Holidays!

[sewerdraws]

What's a little playful tussle between two bros ?

[putterphubase]

You said I can ask you if there's anything I don't understand, right? Then please teach me. How to kiss.

THE TIME OF FEVER (2024).

[blu-ish]

I don't know why I didn't realize this until now but...

WHY ARE THEY THE ONLY TWO WITH BALLOONS???

[sea-buns]

oh my god, earlier in the season they literally said they have no idea what Flight goes by now oh my GOD

[crispywizardtale]

[sealpup9]

Ok Inertia came in swinging with a beat that slaps so hard I forgot to duck and was knocked on my ass by the force that is the last two verses.

[satans-knitwear]

Guess who survived their first exercise class (ever... )

It was me. I did it. I didn't chicken out or run away or cry (much) or throw up (during, at least)

Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me

[madamemiz]

THE NEW CRYPTID SIGHTINGS CHAPTER HAD ME PACING MY ROOM LIKE A CAGED ANIMAL

[thelilylav]

I’m not saying a lot but I AM saying that John and Sam should’ve been allowed to kiss at least once

[veggiecorner]

One thing that I'm afraid about for the next Zelda game is that nintendo is clearly going down the botw route for future titles. I loved botw and totk, but to me these two games HIGHLY prioritized gameplay rather than story. Ocarina of time created a formula for its future zelda titles that in my eyes prioritized story over gameplay (now the quality of the stories could be debated aksjdbakbd)

Overall i just hope the zelda team finds a REALLY good balance between the two

[gaypplshallarise]

Things we left behind

This fluffy with slight tension(?) one shot of shadowpeach first meeting was brought to you by yours truly!

A/N: I've never read JTTW, or know the timeline exactly, so, if you're easily triggered by the inaccuracy to JTTW, stop scrolling! As for you, lovely reader who decided to stick around. I hope you enjoy!

Summary:

So, Sun wukong did the first thing he could think of to the unconscious monkey. Like any intellectual stoned-monkey.

smack!

The king waited for a reaction.

No response.

Okay. Maybe that wasn't the best way to approach the situation.

The sun shone, it lit up the whole forest, lights peaked through the leaves, birds chirping in the distance. A perfect weather to go on a walk. Sun wukong stretched his limbs, he'd spent too much time napping on a tree it seemed.

He hopped down, dusted some twigs off and skipped through the forest, feeling refreshed. Normally he'd prefer to just walk, but today's wind was friendly. So he summoned this trusty cloud and let it guide him, basking in the wind and morning light as he ascended up. The calm breeze felt nice against his golden fur.

The sun has always been a welcoming company, warm light grace his fur, as though intending to scoop him up in a warm, cozy blanket.

Not to mention, the view was breathtaking.

Below him, lay his island. Blessed by the jade emperors, gifted by divine beings themselves. Thick healthy shades of green covered the mountain area. No doubt he'd taken good care of this place. Even looking down from the cloud, the flower fruit mountain radiated life.

Next to the lush green essence, came the shore, sunlight casting down, virtuous sand sparkling, in response to the sun's nifty mood. Glitters of light reflected on the sea, horizon tattered with fishing boats and transportation ships.

Sun wukong could never get tired of seeing such view, no matter how many times he's seen it.

Just then, far corner of his eye, he spotted something on the shoreline.

Upon closer look, it seemed like a... black figure?

Oh. Someone's moving closer to the shore!

Holy shit. Someone was evading his kingdom? It's been so long since someone has ever stepped on this place. After all, who would dare to challenge the great sage equal to heaven?

No matter, he'd just get them out of here real quick. There wasn't a thing a bit of violence can't fix.

Shaking his pride away, he made his way to the target.

--

Now though, with shorter distances, he could make out the figure more. It was a macaque monkey, a knocked out one at that. Much to his disappointment.

He landed and approached the humanoid-monkey figure. Male, tan, with athletic build. gash and bruises scattered throughout the body, some were so prominent it was visible through the wet slacken dark fur. Sparks of salt were widespread amidst his obsidian black fur. Those scars were wide open.

Eh, nothing too severe.

But now, he'd have to figure out what to do.

So, Sun wukong did the first thing he could think of. Like any intellectual monkey.

smack!

The slap was loud and sharp, but not enough to do any real damage.

Wukong waited for a reaction.

No response.

Okay. Maybe that wasn't the best way to approach the situation.

Sun wukong has only seen someone else in a coma a few, never actually had any experience in properly handling the unconscious body.

Thus, the king tried to recall the moments when he snuck in a human village. Limited with only ever witnessed humans taking care of other sickly sleeping humans— There wasn't much he could revoke from the memories.

He checked the simian's heart rate. Inconsistent. Very Low. In fact, it was barely there at all. He was starting to question his actions now if saving the simian was worth anything.

Time was ticking.

On one hand, he could let the simian rot here and die.

"Nah, that would be too cruel." The king pondered.

On the other hand, he could gain more followers, saving him would mean the monkey would be indebted to him. He could use some help tending his garden— and this obscure simian seemed to be the perfect monkey for that. Sure, he has his loyal subject, but they were just regular monkeys— not the brainy ones.

It's settled then, he'll help this monkey.

--

The weight in his arms were heavy, which was nothing, of course. He'd have to be extra careful with the gash though.

The obsidian furred simian was already dried up by the time they arrived at his palace. Now seemed to be a good time to put it to use. He laid the dark furred simian on his bed. Not really sure where to go with this, he'd just have to think of something along the way.

Sun wukong retrieved his recollections of something related to taking care of sick humans, given he never knew how to, he supposed it would be the same for monkeys.

When someone's hurt they have to rest. But the guy is resting, for heaven's sake!

--

Finally he opted to take a wooden bowl nearby, very convenient, other hand plucked his fur out and blew on it.

The fur glowed a golden gleam before stretched and twisted, as if morphing itself into liquid. The matter became clear by the end of the process. It fell down the bowl with an oddly satisfying plop. Water done, he continued to do the same process to another group of fur, this time creating a piece of white cloth.

He began to shush the wet fabric around the other simian's body, upon closer inspection, the monkey had an odd looking six ears. Feathered red markings across the eyes, those were not scars though, it seemed to be the same part of the dark furred simian's face— Similar to the hearted peach-coloured marking on his own face.

The dark furred monkey stirred, snapping the king out of his thoughts. His gold eyes flickered to meet wukong's.

The king's thoughts were cut short as he found himself flipped, and pinned down. Sharp talons on his throat. The movement was so abrupt that it took him by surprise. His stomach were suppressed by the other party's knee. Which, admittedly, hurt. Both wrists bind by the tight grip above his head. Creating an awkward angle.

Moreover, Wukong was impressed that the dark furred simian was this strong. But also concerned about the fact that the other monkey's first instinct was to take him by his throat.

There was no doubt that wukong was stronger, but he also couldn't deny that the other party was impressively strong, despite having just woken up in a weakened state. Something in him ticked, but also excited.

Barely contained euphoria danced around the king's tail, forasmuch of the prospect of such a strong opponent.

He looked up, the other simian's golden eyes bored in fury towards him.

"Where am I" The dark furred simian hissed.

The grip on his wrists tightened, pair of golden eyes inched closer, zeroed on him intensely, warm breaths ghosted over his face.

Wukong suppressed a shudder as he replied, "O? I helped you. And this is how I'm treated?"

They stared at each other, unmoving. Sun wukong was the first to snap out of their deliberate state, "well?" He questioned.

No response, the other simian stared at him, unblinking. It was a little unnerving how still he was.

Gradually, the pressure on him slackened.

Figure above him pushed himself up, ready to make an escape. As soon as he did though, he tumbled down the wooden floor. The great sage bit back a laugh, whilst helping the dark furred monkey up.

Untrustful thoughts adorned the other's face, "No problem by the way" came the great sage remark. The other merely scoffed as he tried to pry the helping hand away. Wow. How unresentful.

He resisted the urge to slap the monkey in the face again.

"I was tryna help you man." Wukong complained.

"I'm fine."

Fine? He's talking nonsense at this point. This obscure monkey couldn't even walk without falling! and he's saying he's fine?

"you couldn't even walk without falling! and you say you're fine? Oh don't bother" Thoughts turned into words. He let his emotions mirrored the other simian's displeased face.

The dark furred monkey finally relented as he let his displeasure known. Wukong helped the dark furred simian get in bed again.

"Not even a 'thank you'?"

The other simian paid no heed. Instead, The king was met with a questioning look, golden eyes settled at a piece of wet cloth on the bed, probably being dropped at some point when he was pinned down. Wukong flushed at the mere memory of being tacked down so suddenly.

"What are you doing with it?" The obsidian furred raised a single brow, thus snapping the out of his inner-self rumination.

"Helping you duh. Y'know the cold compress thingy"

"Are you stupid or what?"

Sun wukong frowned, irritated, his tail dropped.

"That is for someone with a fever or swollen wounds. I have neither of those"

The king's face burned in humiliation, tail lashed uncontrollably.

"O-Oh yeah. I already knew that. Just wanted to do that. Haha— better safe than sorry" He was sweating profusely at this point. Damn to his short lived memory.

"anyways— I'll go get s'more herbs n' stuff"  He plummeted, voice weaving. The dark furred simian didn't have time to ponder much as Wukong raced through the door.

Even without looking back, the sense of eyes bored through his skull were so intense Sun wukong almost wished someone would just trap him under a mountain for 500 years.

He went to a far corner of the palace, recollecting everything that happened in a span of twenty minutes.

First thing first, he found a close-to-death monkey. Then he helped the simian out. Third, the dark furred pinned him by surprise, not to mention naked—

Oh heavens. That was so awkward.

__

By the time he came back, dark fur noticeably sank back into the cover. Granted, he looked more pleasant, unlike the previous bastard he was. He couldn't help but stare, drinking the sight in.

Sun wukong tried not to think about the fact that the other was naked too much. Instead, focusing on the closed eyelids, the calm rise and fall of his chest, as if the simian wasn't in pain right now.

From the light seeped from square shaped window, those obsidian furred seemed to suck in the light, imprisoned them without an escape.

The more he looked, the more he thought about how alike the obsidian fur was to shadows drinking in the lights like that.

The more he looked, the more he thought how those obsidian fur appeared messy, yet looked so soft.

The more he looked, the more intrigued he was.

Without thinking, he reached out to feel the fur against his palm.

"I advise you not to."

He retracted his hand. Oh shit— what was he thinking? reaching out like that? "I wasn't gonna do anything." He denied, although voice weaving.

"bullshit"

"You don't even look— how would you know that"

"...."

"See? I—"

"I heard you"

______

Ever since he's conscious, his senses heightened by ten folds. From the combination of monkeys and birds and variations of wildlife, Macaque couldn't extinguish the sound anymore, hustle of bushes and trees, flows of water in the distant and yet they seemed so close in his very mind.

The strongest sound of them all, a rhythm of heartbeat. Constant and strong to the six eared macaque's exposed sensitive flesh. Deepened his headache even more. He momentarily bit back a groan, instead, trying to turn it into his advantage, he willed himself to focus on the troubling sound alone.

Adjusting a while, the strong pulse drowned other sounds into white noises. Better.

Now without noises that intended to flood him, he then realized that he was laying in bed. Soft, silky linen beneath him. It has been a while since he'd had something this fancy. Macaque's eye lids felt too heavy, he couldn't will himself to open them.

A shuffling sound inched closer— With all his might, he ignored the throbbing pain all over his body and tackled the owner of the other heartbeat.

Golden figure became clear. Beneath him, shown another pair of golden eyes, surrounded by peach coloured markings. Their pulses quickened, his vision blurred. Chill wind met his scars. The feeling of pungent spread all over him. Macaque hated how exposed his body felt.

Rush of pain nearly made him wince. But once again, he forced them back.

Golden furred simian was warm. It exceeded throughout him, creating a buzz of unknown feeling in him. His gut coiled. His already fast pulse elevated. Sounds of their heartbeat alone were unbearably vociferous.

They stayed like that for a moment, the other's heartbeat never relented.

Macaque deepened crease on his brows, golden furred simian beneath him reeked of adrenaline.

"Where am I?" macaque inquired, although it came out more like he was threatening. His very own voice sounded hoarse to each set of ears.

Irritation flarred through him as the other simian stared at him with unreadable expression. Albeit inefficient, macaque formed numerous escape plans. You could never be too trustful of a stranger's intention.

--

The event ended with him trying to escape unsuccessfully.

Of course it would. How could macaque be so naive to even let himself believe it for a moment.

Where else would he be then? He could barely walk, Macaque blamed the myasthenia gravis, and had a massive headache. Wind has been acting up again, he shivered, tail shook and squeezed him tight.

Macaque found himself missing the warmth of a certain golden simian.

Sore limbs urging at him to give in to the warmth of silky texture under him. So he did. He gave up on escaping. His master would've found him in such pathetic state. Oddly enough, macaque couldn't bring himself to care.

So, the shade sank back, as if trying to feel the welcoming warmth the golden simian gave off not long ago. To have this kind of luxury. Moreover, he couldn't comprehend why someone that wealthy would help him.

With an aching body, his mind drifted into oblivion.

--

Pulsation flared anxiously, a pure mimic of chaos brought his senses back.

He heard the other lift a hand, for whatever reason he could not grapse, but there was no malice behind the action. But then why?

The shuffle sound's moving closer, almost like—

"I advise you not to."

An empty threat. He knew he couldn't lay a hand on the other even if he wanted. Hum of powerful magic was an indication of that.

A shufting sound drew backward. The other's heartbeat sped up again.

"I wasn't gonna do anything!"

How shameless. The golden furred was clearly trying to touch him. "bullshit" Macaque retorted.

"You don't even look— how would you know that!"

Of course he'd known. How the owner of the chaotic rhythm's breath struck his throat, momentarily forgot how to breathe.

Pumping of an anxious rhythm, threatening to over take all his hearing capacity.

The other simian rambled on about something he couldn't make out. Macaque, instead he chose to reply to the previous question.

"I heard you. You move too loud, it's like a fuckin earthquake in here."

He hoped that it wouldn't give away too much of his hearing ability.

The other made a grunted noise.

The smile threatened to overcome his face. Closing his eyes, the shade allowed himself to show the satisfaction.

"Ahem so anyway— How are you feeling?"

"Shitty" He groaned.

"Then rest!"

"Then leave me alone!"

"What— this is my room! Leave here by yourself"

He scrunched up his nose.

"Then I'm leaving" Realising his mistake, he tumbled down the bed. Fallen to his knee. Heat of humiliation crept up his face. Limbs felt jelly upon trying to move them, He couldn't even muster the strength to properly get up.

Pathetic.

It was like a deja Vu, golden furred simian helping him up again. But this time, he chose to not hissed or pushed the other away.

A 'thank you' wasn't necessary, but showing a little gratitude wouldn't hurt anyone, and this wasn't the time to held up his pride. If he was going eat a poisonous food, might as well did lick every inch of the plate. In addition, getting on the other simian's good side would only benefit him.

"...Thank you, errr—"

"Sun Wukong, King of the Flower fruit Mountain. Also known as great sage equal to heaven. Call me by whatever you want"

"....."

The other golden furred simian— Sun wukong grinned smugly, giving him an expectant look.

"Right.. Thank you, Sun wukong."

The king's face brighten, his whole posture seemed a lot more alight, tail swaying rapidly, resembling an excited puppy— or to be more precise, a monkey. Macaque almost snickered at the accuracy.

Wukong's shenanigans weren't done though. Golden fur ball continued on with his nonsense.

"What's your name?"

"I'm six-eared Macaque."

"That's a very accurate name."

The stupid grin adorned Sun wukong's face was impossibly wider. It was annoying.

So, so, annoying. Does this monkey think he's cute doing that?!

"What else can i help you?"

'What's the point with this?'

"What do you mean by that?" His face fell, the king sent a disappointed look.

Has he really wondered it aloud? Curse him.

"You. Helping me. Why?"

The king did not falter under his stare, he went silent for a moment, as if trying to conjure up the best answer.

"I just wanted someone to tend my Garden."

The shade quirked a single brow. Sun Wukong's posture shifted slightly, seemingly more reserved.

"Bahh, That's not really the true reason— but honestly that was the first thing i thought when i met you."

Since when, he did not know, Sun wukong has already seated himself on a chair. The shade wasn't entirely sure what his impression gave off. Macaque guessed that his silence was taken as a permission to continue. "But seriously, I think it's just.. I'm so lonely, y'know what I mean?"

He searched the simian's face. It gave off nothing but sheer honesty. The six-eared macaque then focused on the pulsation. Stable. No trace of lies.

"..I feel like that too"

Before he knew it, he'd already admitted that. Suddenly feeling like a prisoner confessing his crimes.

There was something about Sun wukong. Something that made him feel warm, and weird, and lighter— fuzzy feelings, blinding him, as though to forcing him to spill all his past, his secrets and insecurities.

He swallowed them down like a bile.

He would not tolerate any more reckless behavior.

A warm hand met his. Macaque never noticed that his fists were clenched. The king fixated his gaze on the shade. His body was radiating warmth, much like the name "Sun wukong"

The great sage rubbed their hands reassuringly. Macaque, unwillingly, relaxed himself against the contact.

The shade mentally cursed for letting himself get so heavily influenced under the king's gentle hold.

"But enough of those depressing shit. How can I help you?"

"How about leaving me alone?"

"After I poured my heart out like that? Nuh-uh!"

The mood changing was so abrupt. But he was glad to finally deal with something lighter.

They bantered for a while, as though they've known each other for ages. The ability to exchange snarky remarks and occasional jab was something he admired about Sun wukong.

After a while, he was exhausted with all the energy used, despite having only spoken and laughed. The great sage seemed to notice. Soon, without the other's initiating, their conversation died down.

"You sure don't need other thing?"

"God. You're impossible! Fine, Just give me something to eat. Whatever."

Sun wukong happily skipped away, humming an unfamiliar tune.

"How about some peaches?"

His ears perked up, and Macaque merely nodded.

[puppyeared]

[dykedvonte]

The Khans - My Introspective

I don't like the Military and I don't support a lot of the actions the NCR does to the Mojave in New Vegas but in terms of the Khans I feel like the fandom infantilizes or diminishes the fact that they are or at least one of the most violent raider groups in the Mojave.

What happened at Bitter Springs was a tragedy, innocent lives were lost and the fact that the NCR swept it under the rug and continued to hunt down Khans that are truly trying to back down and resettle is horrendous, but there is a history to the NCR's aggression towards them.

The Khans first appear in Fallout 1, the main faction of raiders in the game besides the mentioned Vipers (who don't actually appear if I remember correctly). They came from Vault 15 along with the members that would form rival groups; The Vipers, The Jackals, and Shady Sands. They are a very large and foreboding raiding party, known for burning towns and encampments they attack and taking survivors as their slaves or slaves to sell. They are a big reason why the Jackals and Vipers are actually so small in New Vegas, they wiped them out.

Their main targets where Shady Sands and Junker town, the former of the two would be what became The New California Republic. This explains a big part of their animosity towards the Khans, only furthered by the fact the Khans kidnapped Tandi as a young girl, the girl that would go to offically found the NCR out of Shady Sands. When the dweller saved her and killed much of the Khans, this allowed the NCR to develop into what it currently is as they no longer needed to focus on fighting off constant raids.

When the Khans became the New Khans in Fallout 2, they barely resembled the Khans as they were led by Darion, Garl Death-Hand's son (former leader of the Khans). They were smaller and refortified vault 15, still planning to take down the NCR (at this time nowhere near as imperialist as they are in FNV) as mostly a revenge/power ploy. They manipulate The Squat, a group of y'know squatters, that lived in the upper levels, promising and lying about repairing the vault and offering them ransacked caravan resources if they kept the NCR away. Being their only life line The Squat had no choice. Still the chosen one got rid of them and they left New California for the untapped Mojave.

The Great Khans, the most current iteration, continued in the path as the original Khans, regrouping and gaining information from the Followers who hoped they'd use their new medical knowledge to heal themselves. They gained more members and a substantial part of Vegas territory before they were run out by the three families. They were pushed to Bitter Springs where they first and foremost continued to pick off and attack NCR settlements, most of which consisted of caravans, towns, and camps as they saw them as easy like in their old days. It was the killing of four influential Republic members (non-military) that brought on Bitter Springs.

Bitter Springs was the result of years of hatred and animosity and likely the goal to send a final message to the Khans. It does not excuse the fact that innocent men, women, and children were slaughtered with few survivors. It does not excuse the fact that the NCR has yet to make amends for this and continues to try and persecute the Khans even in moments of surrender.

This post is not to defend what happened but to give a quick rundown of the Khan's history and their history with the NCR. It's to remind people that the NCR is not just their military power but an actual group/settlement of people that were also attacked indiscriminately by the Khans. It's to point out that the Khans were not a band of indigenous people (no matter the comparisons) driven from their homes but raiders who fed into the brutal cultures of the west coast wasteland and were in turn treated to the same things.

My frustration comes from the fact that FNV has so many comparisons to indigenous struggles but the groups it chooses are not comparable at all. Their oppression hinges on not being familiar with their past, which explains why they have the reputation they do in canon. The "tribes" are often not even groups of minorities or have goals/desires out of acquisitions of power and I feel like it is important to both acknowledge that this is bad indigenous rep because it is not supposed to be. It is supposed to be a comparison of the in-game groups and how they all do the same things and justify it in their own fucked up ways, some better at it than others.

FNV of all the Fallout games (in light of it being heavily Western based) distastefully uses indigenous imagery and theming for groups that are sad mimicries of American indigenous cultures at best and outright offensive at worst.

[thoughts-of-the-unheard]

im so sorry but the tension in the scene where lockwoods cleaning and bandaging lucys arm, shits got me feeling like its hard to breathe

[sobeksewerrat]

Read the transcript of the ending of Ship. Willow and The Player should just make out to resolve all their problems @worldsbiggestnerd101