Also Let’s Talk A Little Bit About Fallout And Medieval Europe

It’s a society with a population decimated by the collapse of infrastructure resulting from the collapse of a great (if decadent) civilization.

In the case of Medieval Europe famine and plague swept through as a result of a mini ice age (partially the result of Volcanic activity, which is sort of like an atomic bomb but you know… no one’s fault) and the collapse of the organization of the Roman empire fucking the hell out of international trade.

Fallout it was nukes and corporate greed, but really they’re very similar societies.

People are thinly spread out, harvests are unpredictable and the environment inclement, social order has broken down resulting in vast increases in banditry and tiny groups of armed people going around robbing and plundering and burning, a lot of scientific and engineering knowledge has been lost, hygiene standards suck, there’s a group of people missing bits of themselves who people shun (lepers in medieval europe, ghouls in Fallout), the ruins of the previous civilization are everywhere but its order unreclaimable.

Also reading Foucault and playing Fallout at the same time makes you think about interesting stuff.

Memento goddamn mori.

Okay but also let’s talk about how ya’ll are writing and drawing Fallout ghouls

You’re writing them as desiccated or just burned looking, that’s fucking wrong and actually misses the fucking point about ghouls.

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Ghouls are close to immortal, however they also strongly resemble memento mori skulls, their noseless, often lipless faces refer to the artistic and religious tradition of death’s heads.  They’re a reminder of death given eternal life.

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Their skin is rotting and yes I do mean rotting, continually flaking off because their system has diverted energy from maintaining the integumentary system and most of the body’s connective tissue to maintaining the respiratory and pulmonary systems, their cells divide more slowly to help them resist and thrive in radioactive environments, their skin is in a state of perpetual decay.  They rot, they lose parts, they are eternally decaying (like a human during its life) but they show the decay of death (like a corpse).  

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They’re not dried out mummies, they’re not preserved, they exist in the continual flux of rotting but never rotting away.  They are eternally in the process of decay but also regenerate continually.  A perpetual decay without ever fully dying, without ever fully becoming something else.  They are never completely reborn, they are perpetual decay.

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So if you want ghoul Hancock done fucking right, don’t make him solid, don’t make his flesh incorruptible, don’t make him a desiccated husk.  He is memento mori, even his drug use suggests that a huge part of his character is that he exists in a liminal state between life and death and the fact that he is stuck in that state for what amounts for a human to eternity is part of what makes him cool, part of his devil may care attitude is because he’s already sort of dead.  It also mirrors the laughing dancing medieval images of death (which actually makes sense because medieval europe was a lot like the fallout universe, the world was undergoing a mini ice age, population had been dramatically reduced by famine, disease and the fall of the roman empire, it was sort of post apocalyptic, the world was dirty and dangerous and people were dying like flies) Other ghouls don’t keep that, ferals especially represent a form of spiritual death, but Hancock despite all his dirty jokes is oddly spiritual, in a way a sort of martyr, a messiah for the people of Goodneighbor, he sort of died and was sort of reborn as their mayor.  

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He has lofty ideals and wants to change the world.  He is the triumph of the spirit over death and erasing the death bit destroys what’s great about him.  Removing the ickiness of death fucks the whole point up, the point is his body is rotting, the point is it is icky but he overcomes that and keeps having lofty ideals, he does drugs, nasty post apocalyptic drugs, but although his body decays in perpetuity (though never dissipates) his soul lives on.  He is a reminder of the transient unimportance of flesh.

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Like Hancock as a ghoul is about death, physical death (his decay and his mistreatment of his body) and social death (his association with outsiders and the socially unacceptable and again the drug use) but not spiritual death (because he is good and kind).  Hancock is kindness living on through death.  Don’t play down the death bit because you think it’s icky or can’t fap to it if you want to do his ghouldom justice.

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The design choice of the missing nose is a really obvious reference to the skull, I mean look at these medieval bits of art.

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Do you not see some similarities to ghouls?  

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Memento fuckin’ mori, you fucks.

If You Whine About People Playing Human Hancock

but can’t handle the thought that “no nose, no ears, and the connective tissue issues that come along with being a ghoul (which there are, ghouls have joint problems, that is documented canon) probably means a missing or nonfunctional dick” or can’t deal with the fact that no he’s not solid, bits of him are literally falling off, because ghoulness has a lot of symptoms in common with leprosy you’re a fucking hypocrite, if the only way you can like him as a ghoul is to not think about the actual implications of ghoulness then you’re just obfuscating your need to alter the character.

They are rotting and necrotic, not desiccated mummies.  That’s just what they are.

So either stop sanitizing and prettying up the effects of ghoulness or quit whining about other people having harmless fucking fun.

Freakshow Chapter 2

Title: Freakshow

Chapter: 2/?

Previously: Ch 1

Fandom: Fallout 4, god help me

Pairings: Hancock/vault dweller (male)

Rating: PORN

Warnings: Slash, angst, body image shit, fictional drug use, dicks everywhere, and sometimes not in the best condition

Summary: Hancock’s insecurities surface as he compares himself with his lover.  The institute offers a solution, but are the consequences worth it?


The waiting was a torment, part of him desperately wanted to tell Sebastian what had happened, but he couldn’t make himself say it.  He was too ashamed of his own vanity, of how easily he’d been compromised and he already knew what the other man would say, all that “I love you just the way you are” crap, which Hancock believed completely and found completely unsatisfactory.   He knew he was charming, a great lay, but he wanted Sebastian to look at him with the same stunned awe he felt.  He wanted to make his mouth go dry, or at least not have his looks be an obstacle wit and personality had overcome.  He wasn’t sure if he was relieved when he found the syringe and instructions in his coat pocket one morning, he almost considered throwing them away in disgust, but somehow he couldn’t.  He locked the bathroom door (another extravagance in an out of the way settlement like this, but Sebastian liked his creature comforts), tied up as per the instructions and shoved the syringe into a vein.  He wondered how long this stuff’d take, gradual or instantaneous?  What would he look like?  Would Sebastian even like it?  Why couldn’t he give him the benefit of the doubt re: his appearance?  How the fuck was he going to explain this?

He didn’t have to wonder for long, he felt… a sort of lurching shift and sunk to the floor, panting as the room spun.   When he came to, his head hurt and Sebastian was pounding on the door.  

“Alright, alright keep your shirt on,” he grumbled, scrambling to his feet.  

“You scared the hell out of me!  What were you taking, and why weren’t you sharing?” his lover demanded.

“Something new… wouldn’t work for you,” he said, making it over to the mirror to examine himself.  His vision was blurry for a moment, and then he came into focus.  Long lashed stormy grey eyes blinked back at him from a face covered in smooth, golden tanned skin, human, gorgeous.  Black hair fell a little past his shoulders, shaggy and rakish.  He gave a low whistle.  “Well goddamn,” he said, admiring the handsome motherfucker in the mirror, smoothing hair out of his face, and giving himself a cheeky grin, showing flawless white teeth…  this was some impressive shit.  For the moment guilt and worry ebbed away in a rush of pride.  He was fucking hot.

“What?  You sound weird, Hancock what the fuck going on?” Sebastian called from outside the bathroom as Hancock rummaged to find his lover’s eyeliner, emphasizing the shape of his eyes, fussing with his hair, preening.  He wanted Sebastian’s first sight of the new improved… or technically he supposed original version of him to be perfect. He still wore his beloved red frock coat, which suited his new appearance just fine, all piratical decadent beauty.  

“This new shit… it has some interesting effects,” he said, going to the door “I look… kinda different.”

“Well now I know you haven’t been replaced with a synth, the institute wouldn’t fuck that up,” said his lover, and he smiled.  He did love that wry wit.

“Not like that, doll,” he said opening the door.  Sebastian had been about to say more, but stopped, mouth half open, staring.  “Baby is that… are you, good christ,” he said, falling back into a nearby chair.

Hancock grinned and Sebastian instantly knew it really was him.  He stared.  He’d never minded.  He’d fallen for a ghoul and wanting him to be anything but what he was had never crossed his mind, but he couldn’t deny that the sight of his lover like this, with that mane of dark hair, framing that face that was at once familiar and strange, the same high cheekbones, and strong jaw, but with smooth, supple skin, long lashes and a roman nose giving that beloved countenance an unfamiliar aspect sent a rush of heat through him.  There was also the realization that if whatever his lover had been doing had restored his face that other missing pieces would also likely be in their proper places.  Hancock had never complained about his appearance (although Sebastian knew he was sensitive about it) he did make occasional bitter comments about his disintegrating mess of a cock.  Even with their relationship having continued for nearly a year he’d never actually seen the ghoul completely undressed.  He prefered to be touched through clothes, wouldn’t allow more than the barest brush of the lips when they kissed.  Sebastian had often wondered if it would have been easier if he’d been a ghoul too.

The ghoul stalked gracefully over to the chair, and tilted Sebastian’s chin up, blue eyes meeting grey.

“Hey,” purred the distinctly less than ghoulish ghoul, holding out a hand and bringing Sebastian to his feet.  The blue eyed man had a million questions, but when he felt that warm soft mouth against his own, thoughts took a back seat to desire, and he brushed fingers through shaggy dark hair, pulling the other man close, arms around his neck as Hancock fisted a hand in Sebastian’s glossy mane and returned the kiss with a passion the vault dweller had never felt from him.  He’d always put up walls before, but now the only wall involved was the wall Hancock was shoving him against, hands wandering over the planes of his body with the intensity of long deprivation.  

“You have no idea the fucking things I’ve wanted to do to you,” growled Hancock against that pale throat, as Sebastian melted, head tilted back, nails dragging up that leanly muscled back.  

“You never let me find out,” breathed the vault dweller, grinding his hips against Hancock’s.  He could feel him hard, and… fucking big pressing into him.

“Was never in the mood,” replied Hancock with a sly smile, “sides I was missing some of the necessary parts.”

Sebastian gave him a wicked smirk in response and grabbed him by the wrist, blue eyes flashing with something wild.

“Well then why don’t you tell me now,” purred the vault dweller.

 If he hadn’t been utterly lost in the moment he might have been worried about Hancock seeing his enthusiasm as a betrayal, but with Hancock acting like that… frankly his brain wasn’t working quite right.

The ghoul smirked, accepting the challenge and twisted out of his grip and pinned him to the wall, reaching down to undo the fly on Sebastian’s tight leather trousers.  

“How about I just show you, babe?” replied the grey eyed man. quirking a shapely eyebrow.  This was how Sebastian had always imagined him in bed, not the appearance, but the confidence, the fire… not that his new look didn’t help, he was undeniably hotter than hell.

A smooth hand pulled him out of his trousers with the consummate skill Sebastian had always appreciated… he’d always been good with his hands, even as a ghoul their long fingered slender grace had been obvious, and he stroked him.

“Like what you see?” teased Hancock, and Sebastian gave him a withering “duh, obviously” sort of look, before his ability to think clearly ebbed away again as hot knowing lips brushed over the most sensitive places on his throat.  The vault dweller slid gracefully to his knees, when Hancock gave him a hopeful nudge, yanking down the ghoul’s trousers with desperate passion, noting with pleasure there was nothing else between him and his lover’s cock, which was big and hard and… pierced, another wave of need washed over him, and he slid plush painted lips down the ex-mayor’s cock with consummate skill.  A tanned hand fisted in jet black hair. gathering soft locks into a tail so he could thrust into that hot wet mouth.

“You’re fucking good at that,” gasped Hancock, as Sebastian raked nails down his inner thighs, which made the vault dweller flick that electric blue gaze upwards, the smirk obvious in his eyes for a moment, before Hancock gave his hair a rough yank, and his expression turned again to blank animal need, it wasn’t long before Hancock had to pull him back, the heat coursing through him, pooling at the apex of his thighs was too much, he was going to come if he kept going and he wasn’t ready for that just yet.  He still needed to have Sebastian every which way, to do all the things he’d been holding back on, to let Sebastian do all the things he’d been too self loathing to agree to.  He was aching to make up for lost time.