#remember when i said that i am a valuable asset to the fandom

[watcher-ofthe-sky]

I got some free time so I thought I'll try to draw something for Stingue Fall Equinox 2020. I have previously failed three times in drawing this ship but I think I've finally got it.

It's a panel redraw and since it's autumn event, I drew the background accordingly. (:

#stingue #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #sting x rogue #rogue x sting #fairy tail #my art #oh this tag is back: #remember when i said that i am a valuable asset to the fandom? #yeah this is what i meant #not tagging with official event tag because the art is way too gorgeous for that (: #sky speaks

[superhusbands4ever]

The Chain - Chapter 3/15

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Full Work | AO3 Link

Fandom: The Bad Batch (Star Wars)

Characters: Crosshair, Hunter, Howzer, Rex, Wrecker, Tech, Echo, Omega, Various Clones

Relationships: Crosshair & Howzer, Crosshair & Rex, Crosshair & The Bad Batch, Crosshair & Omega, Hunter & Rex, Hunter & Omega

Additional Tags: Redemption, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Found Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: One year after the events of The Bad Batch, Crosshair struggles to reconcile his choice with the harsh truth of the world around him. He finds enlightenment in the most unlikely of places and realizes he may have made the wrong decision. But is it too late to do something about it?

Two years after the events of The Bad Batch, Rex reluctantly agrees to allow Hunter and his squad to help him rescue a man who's been captured by the Empire, an Imperial double agent who's cover has been blown. What Hunter thought to be a simple extraction ends up having far greater consequences for their squad than he could have ever anticipated.

Chapter Warnings: violence/torture, electrocution, anti-clone prejudice, the Empire being the Empire

Most people are drowning in their delusional ignorance without knowing that their suffering was created by themselves.

Jakusho Kwong Roshi

The disk exploded in the air as the blaster bolt hit it, shattering into tiny pieces that clattered onto the floor to join the fragmented remains of the other disks before it.

Crosshair adjusted his grip on his rifle and signaled to the droid at the end of the range to volley another round of disks. The kickback on his rifle against his shoulder was comforting and familiar, the same as it had been since he was old enough to hold the firepuncher up in his arms for the first time.

Shooting the disks was ridiculously easy, no matter how quickly the training droid launched them, but Crosshair wasn’t looking for a challenge. He came to the range to keep his mind busy, a distraction, a mindless task that would give him time to think away from everyone around him.

It had been three months since the destruction of Tipoca City, and three months since Crosshair had made the choice to leave his brothers and return to the Empire.

Those three months had been… interesting, to say the least.

It took the Imperial scouts two days to find Crosshair on that platform. Of course those two days were the two days Kamino decided not to be the stormy landscape it was infamous for. By the time the scouts picked him up he was half delirious from heat exhaustion, dehydration, and his head was covered in burns from the blistering sun.

He woke up again a few days later as they pulled him out of a bacta tank. He’d barely had time to process what was happening before he was being dragged to an interrogation room by a couple of commandos to be questioned by Rampart.

That hadn’t been pleasant.

It was another month before he was sent on missions on his own, before that ordered only to follow Rampart around like he was his personal bodyguard. He knew it was so Rampart could keep an eye on his every move, so he could make sure Crosshair could still be trusted.

Fair, he supposed. Even he could admit his story was shaky at best.

He’d spun some story or another about the girl setting off the training droids in the training room in Tipoca City, his squad being overrun by the droids before the bombardment started. When explaining how he’d escaped alive, Crosshair figured the best lies were the ones that were buried at least partially in the truth.

He told Rampart that he’d been knocked out by his former squad members in the chaos. That they picked him up and dragged him out of the city as they tried to escape. He wasn’t sure why.  He didn't need to lie about that.

He told Rampart about the girl rescuing him, about his squad’s escape through the tunnels to Nala Se’s old lab. He told him about their plan to use the pods to escape to the surface, using that AZI unit as their guide.

And then. And then.

“You were working with them?”

“No,” Crosshair said, staring up at Rampart from the ground. “I was using them. Pretending to work with them until we reached the surface platform.”

“Yes,” Rampart said slowly, “the platform with no ship. How did they get onto Kamino, then?”

“They had help. Communications were down underwater so they needed to reach the surface to call their extraction. They’d just broken CC-5576 out of Daro base, I assume they were working with him.”

Rampart hummed, blank face giving nothing away.

“When we removed your inhibitor chip, Commander, you assured me that your loyalty to the Empire would not be in question. Was that a lie?”

Crosshair shifted in the trooper’s grip in an attempt to get the pressure off of his undoubtedly broken ribs.

“No, sir,” he gasped, biting back a grunt when the commando tightened his grip, forcing Crosshair to arch his back.

Something snapped. Definitely broken then.

“Good,” Rampart said softly. He gestured to the commando and Crosshair was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. He groaned as the muscles in his shoulders finally relaxed. “I would hate to have to replace such a… valuable asset as yourself.”

“They won’t be a problem anymore.”

“So you’ve said. It is unfortunate they won’t be an asset in the pocket of the Empire, but if they were going to be a thorn in our side then I suppose it’s for the best that they’re dead. And you are… sure they are dead, aren’t you?”

Crosshair turned to spit a mouthful of blood at the ground before turning to look at the vice-admiral. He couldn’t quite bring himself to look the man in the eye, instead looking at a spot just below on his cheekbone.

“Their pods were crushed when the lab flooded,” Crosshair said, swallowing hard. “I saw it. To the best of my knowledge, no one could have survived that.”

Rampart stared dispassionately down at Crosshair for a long moment.

“I certainly hope so, Commander. For your sake.”

There was a small part of Crosshair that wondered why he bothered lying, why he was still protecting those traitors. Maybe part of it was self preservation - if he told Rampart that he let the Bad Batch survive and escape, it would undoubtedly end badly for him. The Vice-Admiral had already made that abundantly clear.

He knew it was deeper than that, though, loath as he was to admit it.

He could have done it. He could have killed them. They’d refused to join him, refused to join the Empire, so it was the logical next step in his orders. It would have been so easy, too, distracted as they were by the kid drowning beneath the water. Hunter had brought his rifle and his pack with him into the tube. No one was paying attention to him. If he’d moved quickly enough, he could have grabbed the rifle, shot Hunter and the others, and left the kid to drown. All that would have been left to do was swim to the platform, steal the ship, and fly back to the Daro base to contact Rampart.

He’d been so close. He’d lifted the rifle and had it pointed between Hunter’s eyes before he’d even realized what he was doing.

But something had stayed his hand.

He’d stared down into Hunter’s tired eyes, finger on the trigger and ready to pull, but no matter how much he tried he couldn’t do it. Instead, he did something he’d never done before.

He froze.

Maybe it was a misplaced sense of loyalty. An old holdout feeling, a remnant from the days they were a team, a family. When Crosshair would have been the first to shoot anyone pointing a blaster in Hunter’s face the way he’d been. Maybe it was him returning the favor, remembering that Hunter had saved him, had still grabbed his body and taken him to safety despite everything the two of them had done to each other that day. Maybe it was him remembering the fervor with which Omega had ordered AZI to help rescue him from under the debris so he wouldn’t drown in the cold ocean water.

Maybe it was the memory of Hunter’s voice breaking with desperation when he asked Crosshair how long he’d been without the inhibitor chip. When he’d realized that all of Crosshair’s decisions that led them to that point were entirely his own.

This is who I am.

Or maybe it was the way those familiar brown eyes, eyes that had once looked at him with love and warmth, had looked at him not with surprise or anger, but with resignation . Hunter hadn’t looked at him and felt betrayed or shocked - instead he’d looked at Crosshair with empty acceptance, like he knew this was what Crosshair was planning to do all along and knew he couldn’t fight it. It was like Hunter had finally given up - given up on him .

I wanted to believe it was the inhibitor chip that made you like this, but I was wrong.

Maybe it was the way those same brown eyes had looked at him with that same tired acceptance in Nala Se’s lab, this time on a smaller feminine frame beneath pale, blonde hair.

Before he could even really process what he was doing he’d pulled the rifle away from Hunter and pointed it into the murky waters below. Hunter couldn’t see into the water, but Crosshair could - he could see through the grime and the darkness and the debris to the slowly sinking blur of the girl clinging to the droid. Looking through the scope he realized he was likely the only one of the group who had the ability to save her and survive while doing it. He’d fired the grapple without second thought.

It was after, when he looked back at the others and saw Tech, Echo, and Wrecker shamelessly pointing their own blasters at him, that he realized his plan was never going to work anyway. There was no way his old squad was going to follow him, to come back and join him in the Empire. Whatever bond had existed between them all those years together had broken and he wasn’t sure there was a way for them to get it back. His brothers didn’t trust him anymore and they likely never would.

Once the girl was safely pulled into the pod it was with that knowledge that he tossed his firepuncher back to Wrecker. He sat down in the pod and avoided eye contact with Hunter, not wanting to see the cold blankness in his eyes again. He’d desperately tried to ignore the gnawing in his chest, the emptiness he felt at the thought of his brothers leaving without him again like he knew they were going to.

He couldn’t even watch as Marauder flew away from him for a fourth time, fearful that they’d see the extra shine lingering on his eyes in Kamino’s rare sunlight.

He still tried to ignore the gnawing in his chest that he felt even now, three months later. His temple throbbed and he shook his head to try and clear it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a chime at the door, a warning to whoever was down range that someone was about to enter. The door slid open with a quiet whoosh and ES-02 walked in.

“Commander,” she said with a nod, standing at attention just inside the doorway.

“What do you want?” He said, shooting down the range again when the droid threw the next disk. The shot hit just as the disk was reaching the peak of it’s arch through the air.

“Admiral Rampart has requested you meet him in interrogation room 4-8C,” she said, and he lowered his rifle with a sigh. “He has asked that I escort you.”

“I don’t need a minder,” he said with a roll of his eyes. Still, he stepped back from the range and disengaged his rifle, pulling the nozzle attachment off and slipping it into his pack.

“Vice Admiral’s orders, sir,” she said with a shrug.

Crosshair nodded, slipping his pack onto his back before reaching down beside him to pick up his helmet. He slipped it on, sliding his firepuncher over his shoulder until he heard and felt the metallic clink of it as the magnetic hold in his pack activated.

“Let’s go, then,” he said, gesturing toward the open door behind her.

ES-02 nodded and turned, gesturing for Crosshair to step out in front of her.

They set off down the hallway, ES-02 following a half step behind him to the right. They made their way quickly through the facility until they got to the lift. Once inside, Crosshair swiped his access card to activate the lift and it started lowering itself to the fourth floor.

After a few moments of ES-02’s shuffling and sneaking glances, Crosshair rolled his eyes.

“What?”

She twitched slightly, looking over at Crosshair with what he could only assume were raised eyebrows under her helmet.

“Sir?”

“You have something to say,” he said slowly, as if talking to a small child. “What is it?”

She said nothing, staring at him for a long moment before shaking her head and turning back to the front.

“Nothing, sir.”

He had to fight to not roll his eyes again. These conscripted soldiers were a real pain, and for once in his life Crosshair actually found himself missing the regs. If for no other reason than for their ability to act like actual soldiers and not just gossipy children who thought they were good at lying.

The lift came to a stop and Crosshair stepped out as the door opened, not pausing to wait and see if ES-02 followed him.

He quickly came upon room 4-8C and turned back to the other trooper before he went inside.

“I think I can handle myself from here,” he said dryly. “You’re dismissed.”

She hesitated and her movements shuttered slightly before she jerked her arm up in a salute, nodding as she turned to walk away. He kept his eyes on her back until she turned the corner out of sight.

With a sigh, Crosshair inserted his code into the pad by the door and stepped cautiously into the interrogation room, still unsure what exactly he was walking into.

“Ah, Commander,” Rampart called out. “Thank you for joining us.”

Rampart was standing in the middle of the room next to a blue containment field. In the field’s ray was a man, a clone based on the blacks and the build, head hung low to his chest.

Crosshair slowly crossed the room, stopping at attention behind Rampart.

“The good captain and I were just about to have a long overdue discussion, Commander, and I thought you might like to assist,” Rampart said with a smirk. “You two have a history after all.”

The clone in the containment field finally lifted his head, and Crosshair’s eyes widened slightly behind his helmet as he took in the scarred face beneath scraggly facial hair.

Crosshair hadn’t seen Captain Howzer since he was arrested on Ryloth. Not long after he was arrested Crosshair had been sent back to Kamino to help oversee the decommissioning of Tipoca City. He never knew what became of Howzer, assumed the man had been decommed or reconditioned - if the Empire still bothered with that sort of thing - and he hadn’t spared the other clone a second thought. A few weeks later and the call informing him of Hunter’s capture came in, completely removing the reg from Crosshair’s sphere of concern.

Now here he was, and he certainly didn’t look like the headstrong Captain he remembered on Ryloth. His face was gaunt, his cheekbones stood out sharper than any clone’s should, and his hair was longer, lanky and flopping over his eyes. His face didn’t look any better, skin mottled with black, green, and yellow bruising. He hadn’t shaved in quite some time, and the black facial hair was growing in patches around the scar tissue on his cheek and chin.

The biggest change was in his eyes - whereas the last time Crosshair had seen him his eyes had burned bright with passionate self-righteousness as he rallied the other regs against the Empire, now his eyes were dull. They lacked the intensity, the heat they’d once held within. Before him now were the eyes of a broken man, tired and so beat down he could barely hide it, leaving him a shell of the man Crosshair briefly knew. Crosshair wasn’t sure what the Empire had done to the clone captain, but whatever it was, it wasn’t pretty.

Something about the image tweaked some long forgotten, deeply buried part of his mind. There was something about seeing another clone, strung up like a puppet and beaten down, that left a sour taste on the back of his tongue, but he pushed it down. This man was a traitor to the Empire. This is what he deserved.

“I just have a few questions to ask you, CT-7569,” Rampart was saying as he walked around the containment field, staring up without feeling at the clone held within. “As long as you answer my questions honestly and without issue, no one has to get hurt.”

Rampart stopped when he reached Crosshair.

“Commander, if you would be so kind as to make sure he answers my questions honestly, and without issue,” Rampart said.

He held something out in his hands and Crosshair looked down to see an electro-baton in his palm.

Reaching forward slowly, he wrapped his hand around the hilt of the baton. Before he could pull it from the Vice Admiral’s palm, the other man closed his hand around the opposite end.

“Consider this a reminder of what happens to those who conspire against the Empire,” Rampart said softly, staring directly into Crosshair’s visor. Crosshair narrowed his eyes at the other man from behind his helmet, cognizant of the fact that the words were said quietly enough there was no way Howzer had heard them.

He wasn’t meant to. They weren’t meant for him .

Crosshair pulled the baton out of the nat-born’s hands and walked to the other side of the containment field. He pressed the button on the end of the baton and the tip crackled with electricity as it powered up.

“CT-7569, I have to say, I am very disappointed,” Rampart said, continuing his stroll around the containment field. Howzer followed him with lazy eyes. “Your service record during the war was quite impressive. The way you were able to maintain hold of the capital even after that Jedi scum was killed was quite the feat.”

Howzer shifted slightly, eyes glowering down at the nat-born, but he said nothing. Crosshair tightened his grip in the baton.

“You could have done great things for the Empire,” Rampart was saying. “But you threw it all away. And for what? A little girl? One man and his wife?”

Howzer growled low in his throat, but didn’t move.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

The reg continued to glare.

“Commander,” Rampart called, not taking his eyes off of the captain. “If you would.”

Crosshair clenched the end of the baton and lifted it, pressing it into the small of Howzer’s back.

Crosshair had to admit, he admired the way the other clone didn’t scream or yell. Howzer arched his back, breathing frantically through his nose as the pain built, his arms and legs trembling where they were held in place by the energy shackles.

Crosshair pulled the baton back and Howzer collapsed as much as he could while in the field's ray, his back and shoulders slumping as his head dropped listlessly to his chest. His shaky breathing cut sharply through the quiet stillness of the room.

“Well?” Rampart said, eyebrows quirked.

Howzer whined low in his throat, lifting his head just enough to look out at Rampart through hooded eyes.

“Howzer,” he croaked, voice hoarse. “Captain. Grand Army of the Republic. Designation CT-7569.”

Rampart said nothing, just continued to stare blankly at the clone captain. Eventually he turned to look at Crosshair and nodded.

Crosshair lifted the baton again, pressing it harder into Howzer’s back. This time Howzer couldn’t quite hold back his scream before he cut himself off, and Crosshair pretended not to notice the way his own hand twitched as the sound cut through the buzz of electricity.

“What can you tell me about the resistance on Ryloth?” Rampart asked once Crosshair pulled the baton back again. Howzer hung panting heavily within the containment field’s ray.

“I know Cham and Eleni were planning something,” Rampart continued as he walked around Howzer’s hanging form. “Those fighters they had at their disposal, the ones who attacked our transport--”

“You kidnapped their daughter ,” Howzer hissed, “what did you expect them to do?”

“Don’t play coy with me, clone ,” Rampart snapped, “you and I both know they were planning something before that. Arresting their brat just moved up the timeline.”

“Go to hell!” Howzer snapped back.

Rampart stepped back. “Commander, if you would.”

Crosshair’s hand twitched around the baton handle.

“9904!”

Crosshair’s hand jerked up, pressing the baton harshly into Howzer’s back once again. This time the clone captain couldn’t hold back the screams as the muscles in his back contorted violently again. Crosshair closed his eyes as the pain in his head rose in pitch with the man’s cries.

Finally, Crosshair pulled the baton back and Howzer slumped inward on himself with a whine, his head lolling forward against his chest. His breathing was shallow but slow, the muscles in his arms and shoulders twitching seemingly involuntarily.

“You tried to recruit other clones in your little insurrection,” Rampart said, leaning forward close to Howzer’s face. “I know how close you were to them. Who else is involved? What were they planning? Where are Cham and Eleni Syndulla?”

Surprisingly, the clone laughed. It was a dark and brittle thing that sounded ugly and wrong coming from the once amiable man.

“Save your breath,” Howzer said, glaring down at Rampart with a smug smile. “I’m not telling you anything. You may as well just go ahead and kill me.”

“No,” Rampart smiled back, and even Crosshair felt a modicum of apprehension at the wolfish look. “I won’t be letting you off that easily.”

Rampart took a step back, pulling a comm out of his pocket and pressing a button to activate it. The door slid open behind him and two TK troopers walked in.

“Commander,” he said, turning to Crosshair who was still standing behind Howzer with the now de-powered baton in his hand. “If you could escort CT-7569 back to his cell. It looks like we’ll just have to try this again later.”

Crosshair nodded and attached the baton to a hook on his utility belt. Rampart quickly left the room and Crosshair walked back around to the front of the containment field as the two TK troopers worked on removing Howzer from the ray.

The ray abruptly turned off and Crosshair watched as Howzer collapsed to the ground in a pile of limbs. He didn’t even try to fight as one TK trooper pulled him upright again by the arms, roughly shoving his arms behind his back and slapping a pair of binders onto his wrists. He groaned quietly as the manhandling no doubt pulled on his abused and aching body, but otherwise made no protest.

Once they were finished the two troopers stood back and looked up at Crosshair for instruction. Crosshair paused, staring down at the other clone.

Finally, Howzer lifted his head and stared up at Crosshair with wide, tired eyes. Somehow he managed to meet Crosshair’s eyes through the visor and Crosshair froze.

For a second Crosshair wasn’t staring down into the eyes of a broken clone captain turned traitor. For a second he looked at Howzer and saw another pale, gaunt, and tortured reg. Only instead of tired defeat he saw bright, beholden eyes, staring up at him with gratitude from the floor of the Marauder as they thanked him for helping to rescue him from Skako Minor.

Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat he jerked his gaze away and gestured to the two troopers still standing at attention in front of him.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning toward the exit. Howzer grunted behind him as he was yanked to his feet and Crosshair closed his eyes against the pain in his temples that throbbed in time with his racing heart.

~

After he’d left Howzer chained up in his cell, he started the trek back to his quarters. The pain in his head had abated somewhat, but the day had left him exhausted and he was ready to lay down and attempt some sleep for the night.

The headaches had been getting worse lately, but the medics in the infirmary assured him time and time again that there was nothing wrong with him. Stress, maybe, they said. Psychosomatic. Most days were better than others but occasionally when the pain got too bad, when he couldn’t ignore the bright spots in his vision or the way his hands would tremble, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something they weren’t telling him.

The chip was gone, he knew that for a fact. Had seen the thing, fried and burnt looking, when they’d pulled it from his head after it was damaged on Bracca. Why some of the side effects seemed to linger, he didn’t know, and he didn’t have the energy to ask. He didn’t think he’d get an honest answer anyway.

It was just a little pain. He was used to pain, he could handle it.

The lift opened finally and he had to put conscious effort into not groaning out loud when he saw ES-02 standing inside.

They both stared at each other for a second before she stepped to the side so Crosshair could enter.

One he was inside and the lift began moving, 02 shuffled her feet before turning her head toward him.

“What did Rampart want?”

“Questioning that insurrectionist we arrested on Ryloth,” Crosshair said, leaning back against the transparasteel wall with his arms crossed. “See what he knows about the resistance on the planet.”

02 hummed. “Anything?”

“He still won’t talk,” Crosshair said. “But Rampart wants to break him.”

“Do you think he will?”

The lift began to slow to a stop.

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug as he pushed off the walk. “The Kaminoans trained us to withstand most interrogation and torture techniques. It might end up working against the Empire’s favor, ironically.”

“I don’t know why he’s bothering,” she said with a shake of her head. “It’s been nearly five months since that clone was arrested and he hasn’t said anything yet. If it were up to me I’d just get rid of him and be done with it.”

“I suppose he should be grateful it isn’t up to you, then,” Crosshair said dryly as they stepped off the lift towards his quarters.

“Honestly, he’s just a clone. Rampart should just put him down and move on.”

Crosshair abruptly stopped in the middle of the hallway and ES-02 nearly stumbled into him before she caught herself.

“‘ Just a clone?’ ”

ES-02 shrugged. “Well… yeah. I mean, there’s thousands of them. What’s one less?”

Crosshair hummed as he stared down the other woman, not sure if he should be insulted or impressed by her audacity. Not that it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard from nat-borns before, even with the Republic. Or, admittedly, nothing he hadn’t thought for himself once or twice in his darker, more embittered moments. But for her to say it to his face, as her superior officer, was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.

He took off down the hallway again, fighting the urge to groan out loud as she continued to follow him. He was nearly to his quarters now, where hopefully he could get some peace and quiet to deal with his headache. If she tried to follow him inside, he might just shoot her and be done with it.

“I’m surprised Rampart is letting you near him, actually,” she was saying as they neared his door. “Considering how royally you screwed up dealing with those clones last time.”

This time when Crosshair stopped suddenly she did run into him. He watched with the smallest ping of satisfaction as she stumbled and had to catch herself on the wall.

“ What did you just say?”

She stared at him for a long moment. Her armor clanked loudly in the hallway as she shifted, apparently internally debating how far she wanted to take this.

“You heard me,” she said finally. “I think the Vice Admiral may be putting a little too much faith in you, is all.”

Crosshair’s eyes narrowed behind his visor and he rested his hand on the holster of the DC-17 on his hip. ES-02’s eyes followed the movement, but she didn’t stand down. In a moment of sudden clarity, every slightly off comment, every insubordinate slip, every “misheard” order and twitchy glance over the last three months flashed to the forefront of his memory.

“If you have something to say to me, then say it,” He growled, stepping forward.

ES-02 shifted slightly, hands fidgeting on their rifle, before stepping forward into Crosshair’s space in a way that was likely meant to be intimidating.

“I don’t trust you,” she said quietly, her visor boring into his. “I don’t know how you got off of Kamino alive, but I know you didn’t do it alone. You may have Rampart fooled, but I was there. I know what I saw.”

Crosshair tilted his head. “And what is it you think you saw?”

“I saw our squads’ bodies on the ground. I saw you fighting side by side with those clones.”

“The girl activated the battle droids,” he reminded her. “The girl you were supposed to capture. Are you really so incompetent you let a child and her droid get the best of you?”

ES-02 had the grace to flinch back a little at that, but she held her ground.

“You really expect me to believe our squad was taken out by simulation droids? ”

“Yes,” he said simply. “Maybe if they all weren’t so inept they would still be alive.”

ES-02 bristled and pushed further into his space until their helmets were nearly touching. He held his ground, arms at rest behind his back and he stared back at her dispassionately.

“Or maybe the droids were just a convenient excuse,” she said. “Maybe that was your plan all along. Get your old squad back to Kamino, overrun and kill us so you could get your little friends back.”

She let out a humorless chuckle, head tilted to the side as she regarded him.

“Though I guess they didn’t want you, either.”

“Careful, trooper,” he hissed, finally pushing back into her space. “I could have you court martialed.”

She shook her head, taking a step back.

“You think you’re so important, don’t you?” Her voice dripped with condescension. “You mean nothing . You’re an obsolete meat droid created to die in a war that doesn’t exist anymore. You’ve outlived your purpose. It’s only a matter of time before Rampart realizes that, and when he does? I’ll make sure they dump your body at the bottom of the Kaminoan ocean where it belongs.”

All you’ll ever be to them is a number.

“Get out of my sight,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Yes, sir,” she said, giving him a sloppy ‘ kark you’ salute, disdain clear in her tone, “ Commander.”

He watched the woman retreat down the hall until she was out of sight before turning and punching in the code to his quarters.

As the door slid shut behind him, he reached up and pulled his helmet off, throwing it across the room with a strangled yell. His head suddenly felt like it was on fire and he reached up to press his fingers to his aching temple.

If it were up to me I’d just get rid of him and be done with it.

I certainly hope so, Commander… for your sake.

We still would've taken you.

You’re my brother, too.

With a groan he collapsed onto his bed, burying his face in his hands as voices played over each other in his mind, desperately trying to ignore the cold that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

#cady writes #the chain #the bad batch #tbb #tbb fanfiction #star wars the bad batch #sw tbb #tbb crosshair #crosshair #my fic

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Four

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Hey there my broskis! I figured I would start backing this up over here as well, cross-posting from my AO3. The chapters got somewhat restructured, so there may be some retreaded ground. Hopefully this will also give me a bit of incentive to actually finish this tale ;-;

Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Paladin Danse, pride of the Brotherhood of Steel, found himself incredibly nervous as he watched Backhand suit up for the first time. She gave him no real reason to be, of course, climbing into her power armor with veteran grace. She had forgone their jumpsuit in favor of her Vault suit so she was short a few of the securing clips, but it was her call. She did put on a hood though, stating that she wasn’t a fan of getting chunks of her hair ripped out by the helmet.

  Danse barely hid his grin at the way she shook herself all over once she was in the suit, metal clanking loudly as pieces fell into place. “What do you think, Knight Vega?” He asked cautiously.

  “I think I’m gonna’ have a lot of fun with this.” Backhand sounded like she was smiling.

  Proctor Ingram sighed. “Yeah yeah, just try not to fuck up your actuators. Damn kids and your Prydwen jumps.”

  Danse flipped his helmet and smoothly clicked it into place in his suit’s gorget, then blinked in confusion at the HUD. “Proctor, did you change the-”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry Danse. The yellow HUD makes me queasy.” Ingram apologized. Danse sighed, bringing up the internal options screen and readjusting the HUD color back to the warm amber he preferred. “Don’t be that way, Paladin, I have to look at a million of these helmets every day.”

  “What? How do you change the…oh, I got it.” Backhand paused, obviously fiddling with the HUD in her own suit. “ Purple .” She said firmly.

  Danse tried to mask his chuckle by clearing his throat, but the look Ingram shot him told him the attempt was unsuccessful. “Well, uh, I think it’s about time we begin our maneuvers.” He said hurriedly.

  “You two take as long as you need. Bring Brandis back safe. Backhand, remember what I told you.” Ingram said sternly, saluting the two of them.

  Backhand nodded solemnly, returning the salute. “Ad Victoriam, Proctor Ingram.” Danse saluted as well, curious about Ingram's mysterious statement.

  Maxson hadn’t cleared them for vertibird transport to a general location. Danse could see why to an extent, the elder probably needed all the aerial support he could get while they sent out scouts to find more clues about the Institute. The reason Maxson had given was...still logical, but a little different.

  “ With you on foot, there will be less warning for Brandis. ” Arthur had said in his briefing, arms behind his back as always. “ If he is alive, we don’t know what shape he’ll be in mentally. Use extreme caution. If you fear for your lives, do not hesitate to kill him .” He glared at Danse when he said that and Danse had swallowed hard.

  Do not hesitate. Do not hesitate like you did with Cutler, Paladin.

  Danse let Backhand set a pace she was comfortable with once they were on the ground and he followed her lead, the paladin silent as they marched. His thoughts churned and roiled, scratching to escape his head in a frenzy of uncertainty. He almost didn’t notice Backhand skipping , aside from how ridiculously loud her sabatons were on the remains of the road. “Knight Vega, what on earth .”

  “ Finally! I’ve been trying to ask you something for five minutes. Figured I would opt for a different approach.” She laughed, knuckling his shoulder with her gauntlet. “After we find Paladin Brandis, I have-”

  “ If we find Paladin Brandis.” Danse corrected her grimly.

  Backhand paused, tilting her head to the side. “Sir?”

  “I said, if we find Brandis. There’s no guarantee that he’s alive after all this time. It’s entirely possible that we’re simply on a remains retrieval detail.” Danse warned her.

  Backhand shook her head after a moment. “Paladin, you really think I don’t know that? Damn.” She grumbled. “You’d rather find him alive, right? That’s the hope?” Danse nodded reluctantly. Brandis was an incredibly skilled survivalist, a respected squadron leader and free thinker of the highest caliber. He would be a phenomenal asset to the Brotherhood if…

  If he was still alive.

  “I apologize for my pessimistic outlook.” Danse said after a moment. “I have not had…exceptional luck when it comes to search and rescue details.”

  “Hey, first time for everything.” He was almost positive that she was grinning at him under her helmet. “You’ve got me here. You can't say the homeland doesn't take care of their own; I’m practically the embodiment of a four-leaf clover.”

  “We can hope.” Danse murmured, half to himself. “You certainly came through previously.”

  “Maybe I’m your good luck charm.”

  The notion that he had outlived his men because of luck left a bitter taste in Danse’s mouth and he fell silent once more. She at least seemed to understand not to poke him and simply carried on down the road at an easily-managed pace.

  Danse couldn’t decide whether he personally wanted to find Brandis or not. On the one hand, of course he was a valuable asset. But on the other, Brandis had a penchant for… noticing things. Arthur had butted heads with the older man numerous times, usually over what Maxson labeled ‘ trivial issues ’.

  And Danse still hadn’t forgotten the nasty rumors he’d heard about the real reason for Recon Squadron Artemis being sent to scout the Commonwealth…

  “ Brandis overreaches, connects well with young recruits. The elder fears his influence. ”

  “ Brandis was sent to die and you know it! ”

  The atmosphere in the barracks had turned ugly fast when Arthur had dropped the tidbit that the Brotherhood lost contact with Squadron Artemis almost immediately upon their arrival in the Commonwealth.

  Aspirants got into shouting matches; several scuffles broke out. Danse ended up wading through the midst of a pitched fistfight, throwing one knight over his shoulder and pinning the other beneath his arm momentarily.

  “ This is behavior unbecoming of a soldier, knights! ” He had shouted over the ruckus. “ Stop the childish antics, use your brains and think! ” His voice carried in the cramped bunk room, and due to his massive height he was easily visible through the swirling hurricane of young men and women. “ Paladin Brandis would be ashamed of every one of you for losing sight of what is truly important in the Brotherhood! Your brothers and sisters are all you have in the world, you cannot set into them at the first sign of trouble! ”

  “ Elder Maxson wanted Paladin Brandis to die! ” One brave scribe cried. “ That’s why he sent him! ”

  “ He is the elder and you will show him the respect he deserves! ” Danse admonished the young man. “ I will not tolerate this insubordination! ”

  “ You’re only on his side because you’re fucking him! ” The knight over his shoulder yelled furiously, beating his fists against Danse’s shoulder blade.

  The entirety of the barracks went dead quiet and Danse was certain his face must have been an ungodly shade of purple from his insinuation. “ What did you just say, Knight? ”

  The young man slowed to a stop, and then suddenly burst into tears. Danse set him down on his feet and the knight stood in front of him, his shoulders hunched. “ I ap-pologize, Palad-d-din Danse sir. ” He had hiccupped, saluting him without looking up.

  “ Knight, you cannot lash out with harsh words or actions just because something isn’t going your way. ” Danse had known he was letting him off too easy, but the young knight was still weeping. “ You will go to Knight-Captain Cade in the morning. He is…far better at managing situations like these than I am. I fear I will do nothing but cause more damage. ”

  “ Paladin Danse, have they told you anything about Paladin Brandis? Anything at all? ” A tiny squire had piped up from the door, her hair already braided for sleep.

  Danse shook his head regretfully. “ All I know is what you’ve already been told. I have no other information at this time .”

  “ Will…will you tell us if you learn anything new? ” She had continued hesitantly, glancing up at the aspirant holding her hand for confirmation. Murmuring rippled through the crowd, all eyes on Danse as he stood there silent, stoic. The knight's words echoed in his mind over and over, on his side, on his side...

  “ You have my word as a Brotherhood paladin, Squire .”

  It had been a simple thing to promise then. Almost negligibly simple. Danse shook his head, trying to disperse the memories. This rumination would get him nowhere. Thank goodness he had Knight Vega with him, at least she could keep an eye out for threats while he wandered down his proverbial Memory Lane.

  Speaking of Knight Vega…

  Danse swung his head around, perplexed. She had just been here, it wasn’t exactly like she could sneak in all that plating. He spotted her finally as he came over the next rise in the road. She appeared to be speaking to a civilian, the ragged-looking man gesturing wildly off to the side.

  “…idea how many of them there are in the facility?” Backhand was asking.

  “Usually we only see three to five, b-but sometimes there’s loads more! Hounds too! Please, General, if you can spare the men, we really need your help.” The man begged.

  General? Danse thought with confusion. Why is he calling her General?

  “Currently, we’re focusing our efforts on rebuilding Fort Independence…er, I mean, the Castle. We have mobile cells but they are few and far between. I will send word that-” Backhand was cut off by the man shaking his head rapidly.

  “I knew it, I knew you would refuse! That’s how it always is! Say anything about super mutants and everyone pusses out!” The man shook his fist in Backhand’s impassive face. “I had hoped that you of all people would be able to help us, but I guess I was wrong.” He spat, “should have known better than to trust things would be alright with your group back on the playing field.”

  Danse had heard enough, practically stomping down the road towards the man yelling at his charge. “Civilian, I suggest you watch your tone.” He uttered the words curtly, his eyes narrowed behind his visor.

  The man huffed out a breath at him, obviously unimpressed. “So you have a bodyguard now, General?”

  “Hardly.” Backhand replied dryly.

  Danse got the feeling he had just been insulted, but he brushed it off. “Where is the nest of vermin?” He queried instead, making a considerable effort to try and keep his tone neutral. “You mentioned super mutants.”

  “They’re in Weston. The pre-war water treatment plant. Are… you’re going to help?” The man asked uncertainly.

  “There are other, more important matters that currently take priority, civilian. When we have the time, we will investigate. Now I would advise you to be on your way before I have to assist you in making the choice of departure.” Danse ordered, his laser rifle not quite at the ready, but high enough that to the untrained eye it would look like he was poised to strike.

  The man grumbled something under his breath and then announced, “I'd better see you later, General. Oberland would be a good spot to spiff up, y'know, but it's so close to Weston no one will touch it.”

  “Thank you, Rob. Hey, tell your wife I said hello. I hope your little one is doing well.” Backhand's face had gone strangely soft.

  For some reason, the man's shoulders relaxed. “She is, she's doing really good. Her mom is teachin' her everything that she knows. She's wicked smart for her age.” He bragged.

  “No doubt there. Take care of yourself, and tell people to steer clear until we can get to Weston.” Backhand gave the man a nod in reply to the tip of his hat. “Thanks for helping.” She said out of the corner of her mouth to Danse, who straightened up.

  “I don’t recall doing anything helpful, Knight Vega.” He was startled when she knocked her pauldron against his own in a playful gesture.

  “Rob loves to puff himself up and talk about how no one’s ever done anything for him ever. It’s harmless, but he’ll drag on for ages unless you nip it in the bud.” She grinned at him. “Thanks for going on the offensive and heading him off at the pass. Lots of people are like him out here. When the Minutemen disbanded, it meant that the simple people had to take the full load of raider assaults and super mutant attacks. Still plenty of distrust for me and my crew.”

  “Your ‘crew’?” Danse echoed, thoroughly confused. Why did he call her General? What is she talking about?

  Backhand just nodded, putting her helmet back on. “You want to take point? You were kind of spacing out back there, Paladin. Might help you get centered. Run down the list of objectives?” She suggested.

  “I must be worse than I thought if you noticed my thousand-yard stare.” Danse realized it was a sarcastic quip the second after the words left his mouth, and he felt horribly awkward.

  That is, until there was an undignified guffaw from the knight. She clunked her whole forearm against his own in a makeshift nudge, still snickering. “How incredibly rude of you, Paladin! I’ve got bad eyesight, but it’s still there. Kinda’. Didn’t need twenty-twenty to see that you were deep in thought.”

  “Knight Vega, I appreciate your attention to detail. And…” Danse hesitated, biting his lip. “And thank you for… humoring my wandering mind.”

  “I’m not humoring anything. You’ve been through a lot recently and you’ve had no breathing room at all. You’re allowed to have time to process.” When she put it like that ...

  Danse made a noise of acknowledgement. Backhand cleared her throat, stepping aside and letting him go ahead of her.

  …

  Do me a favor and try to limit his time on board this rustbucket, okay? I don't know what's going on and it's not my place to ask. But Danse is a good man and he shouldn't be getting jerked around, Elder or no.

  Ingram's words spurred Backhand to speak up. “Paladin Danse, sir?” When he turned to face her, she wished that he wasn’t wearing his helmet. “Sir, I meant what I said before.”

  “What?”

  “When I said I was available if you needed someone to talk to. I’m serious. It’ll all be off the record, just between us. The only person I report to is you.” Backhand said firmly.

  “And the elder.” Danse reminded her, his voice soft.

  “Nope.” Backhand grinned, trying to lighten his obviously bleak mood. “Just you. You might answer to the elder, but I don’t.”

  “That’s tantamount to treason, Knight.”

  “He’s not a sovereign , for--”

  “Elder Maxson’s orders are law in this chapter of the Brotherhood, Knight Vega.” Danse sounded like he was repeating the words from memory, clearly used to defending the young elder. “I suggest you cease your needlessly-flippant flouting of Brotherhood practices.”

  Backhand knew she was on thin ice. “Of course, sir. I apologize. Forgive me my misstep.” She saluted loosely. “My previous military experiences were a little more lax. When out on patrol we spoke to each other and our superiors as equals. It was common to poke fun at the higher-ups, as well.”

  “I wouldn’t begrudge you a joke or two, but not at the expense of the elder.” Danse replied tersely. “He works exceptionally hard to keep everything in line and running smoothly. I will not tolerate any disrespect towards him.”

  “Understood, Paladin.” Her suspicion only thickened at Danse’s rebuke. What is Maxson doing to him? Normally, soldiers gleefully took the opportunity to joke about their superiors. But Danse was acting like it was a cardinal sin to so much as tease about the young elder. No wonder Ingram had told her to take her time. Danse was obviously kept on an incredibly short leash. The longer he was away from Maxson, the better.

  They continued down the road in silence for nearly an hour before Danse finally sighed heavily. “Knight Vega, I must apologize again. You were not raised in the Brotherhood, it’s not as if you would know any better. My shortness of temper is unrelated to you.”

  “It’s okay. You’re worried about Brandis, right?” Backhand asked. “A little scared, a little hopeful?”

  “For being a relic of a bygone age, you are remarkably perceptive.” Backhand sputtered a little at being called a relic but Danse carried on gravely, “I am concerned about the state Brandis may be in when we reach him. If he is mentally compromised…dealing with a man who was Brotherhood but has lost his senses is not a task I take lightly.” He turned to her. “The younger recruits love Brandis. He was a father figure to a multitude of them.”

  “You promised them you would bring him back.” She realized. Danse didn’t reply immediately, instead focusing his attention to the road in front of them.

  “I could not feasibly promise anything.” He muttered, quiet enough that she was unsure if she was supposed to hear him. “It was not within my power to promise.”

  “But you did anyway. On that slim hope that Brandis was alive and in one piece.” Backhand’s heart ached as she thought of the paladin trying to decide what to tell a group of young recruits, a group of kids .

  “…Yes, Knight. I did.” Danse admitted after a long pause. “My motivations are irrelevant. I lied to children, because I…I cannot see the little ones as soldiers. They begged for news of Brandis and I had nothing to offer them except my word as a paladin.”

  “That’s okay.” Backhand said simply. “We’re going to find him.”

  “I suppose we are.” Danse sounded a little surprised. His shoulders straightened up. “One way or another.”

  The asphalt had dissolved into nothing a mile back, leaving the two of them to continue trekking through the wilderness on the remains of the flattened earth that was once a road. Backhand was used to the booby-trapped state of everything at this point, so she didn’t even bat an eyelash when she heard the warning beep of a landmine.

  Danse on the other hand stopped dead, helmet swinging rapidly back and forth as he tried to locate the mine before it went off. “Wait, Knight Vega-!” He began as she knelt, trailing off when he realized that she had deactivated the landmine. “Oh.”

  “Impromptu bomb squad.” Backhand replied by way of explanation, tucking the salvaged mine into her satchel. “I got pretty good at working in gauntlets.”

  His worry was touching all the same, the paladin letting out an awkward chuckle. “Hell, maybe you are lucky.” He shifted his weight nervously, pauldrons clattering in the relative stillness. “I should have known better than to think Brandis would make it easy. There’s a reason that old codger lived through everything.”

  “You can either think I'm lucky, or you can just attribute it to the Sarge's bandanna like I usually do.” Backhand grinned, flexing her fingers experimentally. “Keep your eyes open for more and point them out if you see ‘em. These gauntlets are way better than the ones in my old suit. The mines won’t know what hit them.” 

  “Affirmative, Knight Vega.”

  With both of them on guard, their progress was slowed somewhat. But they found three more mines thanks to their diligence, and Backhand carefully deactivated every one before the timer ran out. She was so focused on scanning the ground that she almost walked into Danse’s back when the paladin stopped in the middle of the path. “Danse?” Inwardly, she cursed herself for not addressing him properly.

  Danse didn’t even seem to notice though, his attention fixed on a bunker built into the side of the shallow valley they were in. “Recon bunker Theta…of course .” He hissed like he was talking to himself. “How could I have forgotten?”

  “Is this the place?” Backhand asked, peering over his shoulder warily. The armored man nodded, already striding towards the door of the bunker.

  “It must be.”

  …

  There was a terminal affixed to the outer concrete of the building and the paladin wasted little time painstakingly manipulating his huge gauntlets to press the correct keys on the keyboard. There was a loud clunk! when the lock on the door disengaged, but the door itself remained shut tight. Danse swore under his breath, firmly rapping his knuckles on the metal door. “Paladin Brandis!” He called. “Can you hear me, sir?”

  “Paladin Danse? Are you sure you should-” Backhand started to ask, sounding nervous.

  “ Quiet , Vega.” Danse ordered brusquely. To her credit, she immediately fell silent. He could still hear her shifting back and forth behind him though, and he wondered what on earth could have her so antsy. Surely it couldn’t be that she was worried about what Brandis might do? “ Paladin Brandis! If you’re in there-”

  “Uh, D-Danse, I don’t think you should be so loud.”

  “Vega, he will not hear me otherwise.” Danse, losing his limited patience, hammered his fist on the door. “ Brandis! ”

  He heard a flurry of motion behind the door. “Who’s out there? How did you get that keycode? Never mind, never mind, just go away! I’m not letting you in here!”

  Danse’s throat tightened at the elderly officer’s voice. “Paladin Brandis, sir! It’s me, Pal--"

  In his distress over finding Brandis, Danse had forgotten to be wary of his surroundings. Heavy footsteps shook the ground and Backhand’s cry of surprise was the only warning he had, the paladin halfway through turning around when he was thrown against the door of the bunker by a thunderous blow from a behemoth’s improvised club. His shoulder protested violently at the rough treatment but Danse shrugged off the pain. He was so used to getting pummeled by the inside of his armor, he practically anticipated the bruises. He raised his head and got a good eyeful of the ugly brute inches from his face.

  Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. There was a dull roaring in his ears, static pounding at his temples like a hammer while he stared at the creature and it stared right through him. Bloody spittle foamed around its mouth, eyes wide and pupils nothing but pinpricks. Nostrils flared to take in his scent.

  This thing was once human . Danse felt sick to his stomach.

  “ Paladin! ” Backhand yelled, firing a glancing shot off the beast’s shoulder that made it rear back. She was giving him time again, Danse realized dimly, his body refusing to cooperate as he remembered Dawes’ horrific death at the hands of a super mutant, remembered Cutler, Cutler like a punch to the face. And this mutant was a behemoth .

  His laser rifle, unnamed as of yet, shook in one slack, trembling hand.

  Backhand flanked the massive creature to end up back at his side, her pauldron clanking into his own. “Paladin!” She barked and Danse instantly straightened up, his grip snapping tight on his gun.

  “Ma’am!”

  “Attack the enemy, soldier!” She sounded almost like Krieg, all righteous authority and fury inches from detonation.

  An order, an order. Danse felt his body refocus on the here and now, banishing the horrific images of Dawes’ demise for later contemplation. “Yes ma’am!” He replied automatically, pulling the trigger and spraying laser shots into the behemoth’s massive chest. Backhand slung Righteous Authority back out of the way to dangle from its strap, her shotgun in her hands now. Danse was so used to the comparatively quiet report of laser weaponry that he actually flinched when she fired the shotgun. The drum-fed gun bolted to life at her touch, heavy slugs making the behemoth pause.

  “ Eat hot lead, freak! ” Backhand shouted over the weapon, her words punctuating her shots. Danse got the feeling that pairing her with a Fat Man would make her nigh unstoppable.

  Behind him, he heard something swing open. The door to the bunker! Brandis! “Knight Vega, maintain this position!” He demanded, not bothering to look back.

  “A paladin…?” Brandis’ voice had an unfamiliar tremor in it.

  “ Now , Vega!” Danse snapped.

  “Sir, yes sir!” Backhand replied quickly, sliding into place where he had been a second ago. Her power armor frame filled the doorway as well as his had, and Danse brandished his rifle. The behemoth brayed deafeningly loud, seeming perturbed that its prey refused to cooperate.

  “Not today, you giant freak!” Danse announced firmly.

  …

  Backhand had barely caught a glimpse of a worn face with an unkempt beard peering around the side of the doorway before she moved herself in front of the opening. She braced her shotgun against her plating and continued to hammer away at the behemoth, shell after shell ripping the creature’s thick hide.

  Danse kept up his own attack, a seemingly endless stream of mutant-related verbal abuse pouring from him in time with his laser shots. Backhand almost wished she could hear him clearer, certain that he was swearing a blue streak that could put Sergeant Cathan to shame.

  That club swept low, knocked Danse’s legs out from beneath him. The paladin landed on his back with a grunt of pain and the behemoth (in a surprising show of intelligence) picked up one of the nearby boulders and dropped it onto Danse’s chest. Danse gritted out an infuriated curse and started struggling to lift the boulder, actuators in his armor shrieking under the strain when the behemoth started pushing down on the rock. Clearly it was either trying to crack Danse’s armor or crush the paladin inside it.

  “Shut the door.” Backhand said calmly. There was the sound of fidgeting behind her. “It’s going to be alright. Just shut the door.”

  At the loud clunk! of the door closing, the behemoth looked up from Danse. Backhand barely had a moment to inhale before she was snatched up by a massive hand, the creature roaring triumphantly.

  “Knight Vega!” Danse shouted, the paladin still trying to shift the massive rock enough to get free.

  Backhand squirmed desperately in the beast’s grip, arms pinned to her sides and her shotgun pointed towards the ground. Well kid, you gave it a good try . She pumped her trigger out of desperation, not sure if she even had any shells left, and blew a hole through the behemoth’s foot. The gargantuan mutant howled in pain, flinging her through the air when it toppled over. She hit the ground hard enough to lose consciousness briefly, her head slamming against the inside of the helmet.

  When she blinked her eyes open again, all she could see was a power armor sabaton inches from her face. There was a muffled report to her right and super mutant skull fragments and brain tissue abruptly sprayed across her helmet visor. “ Tango down .” Danse snarled.

  “Jesus.” Backhand muttered, her gauntlet clanking loudly against her helmet. “What a hit.”

  “Are you injured, Knight?” Danse sounded like his teeth were clenched.

  “Blacked out for a second is all. You alright?”

  “That’s irrelevant. We need to see to Paladin Brandis.” Danse said sharply.

  “It’s been so long since I’ve heard my name.” Said a quivering voice. “I imagine I’m hallucinating at this point. Going mad from seclusion.”

  “It’s Danse, sir, Paladin Danse. Don’t you recognize me?” Danse asked, and Backhand was sure she wasn’t supposed to hear the uncertainty in his tone.

  Danse pulled her to her feet and she took in the sight of the elderly man in badly-worn combat armor across from them. He was studying Danse hard, his eyes widening when Danse unfastened his helmet and took it off. “ Danse? You…is it really you?” Brandis asked, his voice still shaking. “Oh my God, is it true?”

  “It’s me, sir.” Danse replied stiffly. “Knight Vega and I were tasked with reacquiring you. Elder Maxson-”

  “Maxson? It’s his fault that I’m even…my squadron…” Brandis’ words grew disjointed, choked with emotion.

  “ The elder believes that you are still a valuable asset to the war effort, Paladin Brandis.” If Danse had been stiff before, he was outright stony now.

  Brandis, entertainingly, waved off Danse’s chastising attitude. “Yes yes, praise be to the elder. I suppose it’s you two that I ought to be thanking, though. After all, you’re the ones who risked life and limb to come find me.”

  “It was Knight Vega’s first assignment as a member of the Brotherhood. She was honored beyond measure.”

  “I don’t suppose she can talk , can she?” Brandis asked dryly. Backhand decided that she liked Brandis. “Why all this trouble for me, though? And so suddenly? I’ve been sending distress signals for years , Danse.”

  “It was only through sheer luck and our acquisition of Knight Vega’s skillset that we even managed to signal the Brotherhood for support.” Danse replied curtly. “Over half of Recon Squad Gladius is dead, their lives claimed in the line of duty. Much like your own squadron.”

  “Oh, Danse.” Brandis said helplessly. “It’s such a heavy burden to carry. Their lives…and Astlin , I know you were so fond of her.”

  “She was a good soldier. Best marksman I ever knew.” Danse gritted out.

  “I’ll bet she was an even better friend.” Backhand said tentatively.

  “She died with honor.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” What the hell was going on? Danse sounded livid , the set of his shoulders visibly tense even through the power armor. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

  “Danse, what does the Brotherhood even expect to get out of me? I’m too old, I’ve…I’ve been away for too long.” Brandis floundered.

  “Elder Max-”

  “ Fuck Arthur, Danse!” Brandis exploded. “I’m asking you . What do you believe that the Brotherhood can get out of me?”

  “Intimate knowledge of the Commonwealth.” Danse snapped. “You’re a survivor, Brandis, and your skills could be indispensable to our troops.”

  “There’s nothing I could teach that the locals couldn’t Danse, you and Maxson know that.”

  “Yes, and you’re not a filthy local. You’re Brotherhood.”

  “Am I?” Brandis mused, glancing towards Backhand. “And I’ll assume that Knight Vega is one of the so-called ‘ filthy locals ’?”

  Danse paused, his hand still up in the air in the beginning of an irritated gesture. Backhand barely kept her snort in check. “Knight Vega is a…special case.” He said finally.

  “Typical Brotherhood. You’re filthy, you’re garbage, you’re nothing . And then, you’re a special case if you’re useful. Sound familiar, Danse?” Brandis grumbled. “Sleep with one eye open, Vega. Maxson is a little boy in a much larger man’s battle coat.”

  “Paladin!” Danse barked. “There is no need for this insubordinate behavior in front of my ward!”

  Brandis drew himself up to his full height (which, next to Danse in full armor, wasn’t exactly intimidating ) and jabbed his index finger into the larger paladin’s breastplate. “Don’t you dare speak to me about insubordination, Danse.” He hissed, his green eyes snapping with fury. “My squadron is dead because of Arthur and you still want to play Lancelot?”

  “The Brotherhood will honor their memory.” Danse intoned dully.

  “I’ll honor your memory if you keep this up, you damn fool.” Brandis growled. “No, no , I won’t go back to that madman. Better that I stay in isolation.”

  “I’m relatively certain that you staying here isn’t an option.” Backhand interjected. “Look, if the elder is as tricky as you say, he’s not going to let you live out your days in peace. You’re Brotherhood, or you were once, and you know too much. It was the same with the army.” Danse looked horrified and Backhand hurried to finish, sure that her opening wouldn’t last. “You should be as close to him as possible, if anything. Make it more difficult for him to do something shady by keeping an eye on him.”

  “Knight Vega! ” Danse sputtered indignantly.

  But Brandis was nodding his head, looking intently at her. “Take that helmet off, Vega. I make it a point to know my allies.”

  “Yes sir.” Backhand undid the helm and pulled it over her head, tucking it under her arm as an afterthought. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

  “You’re bleeding, Knight Vega.” Brandis pointed out after she saluted him and Danse fairly pounced on her, a huge finger looped through the pauldron on her shoulder jerking her around to face him. His gauntlet grazed her temple and she winced, grimacing when the metal returned brick-red.

  “Just a scrape. I’ll be fine.” She insisted.

  “I’m certain you will, Knight. How long have you been in Danse’s care?” Brandis asked genteelly.

  “Ah, about t…two, three days?” Backhand answered cautiously.

  “But Danse said that-”

  “Knight Vega did not immediately accept the offer. I imagine that our ranks did not strike her as particularly impressive.” Danse cut Brandis off, his tone incredibly bitter.

  “It wasn’t that. I had other obligations to deal with.” Backhand corrected him, trying to be gentle. “You guys were in a worse situation than most, but my responsibilities took me elsewhere.”

  “True, I did not…I apologize, Knight Vega. That was unnecessarily harsh of me.” Danse admitted after a second.

  “Be still my heart. You got him to apologize! Never thought I’d see the day.” Brandis said with a hint of faked bewilderment. Backhand decided to keep the fact that Danse had apologized to her three times in the same day to herself. “Alright Danse, I’ll return to that rustbucket . But only because Knight Vega makes an excellent point.”

  “Shall I signal us a vertibird?” Danse asked, his hands clenched tightly at his sides.

  “ Ha! And let Maxson get the drop on me? No, no, it’ll be better for me to show up on foot, alone. Provided you two have been discreet, this place will still serve its purpose as a fallback point. I’ll meander for a few days and then make my way…hmm.” Brandis’ eyes rested on Backhand.

  “Can I loan you my suit for your journey if you won’t accept an escort?” Backhand offered, following his train of thought. “My combat armor is functional and on standby. May I loan him my power armor, Paladin Danse sir?” She knew she was spreading it on thick, but Danse was obviously a stickler for protocol. “He is a senior ranking officer, and I…I mean if I’m with you, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” It couldn’t hurt to flatter him a bit.

  Danse’s face pinked up endearingly and he cleared his throat. “I don’t see why not. If you hope to arrive safely Brandis, this is the least we can do. I would prefer, of course, to accompany you sir. But it’s your decision.”

  “How gracious of you to permit an old man his preferences.” Brandis replied dryly. Backhand couldn’t stifle her hiccup of laughter and Danse ‘ harrumph ’ed, obviously embarrassed by her behavior.

  “Knight Vega and I will busy ourselves with other tasks in the Commonwealth until you make your return to the Brotherhood, Paladin.” Danse said sternly. “You realize that my knight cannot return without her armor and empty-handed.”

  “Understood, Danse.”

  Backhand fought the excited leap in her chest at the way Danse referred to her as ‘his’ knight, choosing instead to extract herself from her power armor and start strapping on her heavy combat gear. It’s only because he’s sponsoring you. Don’t be ridiculous , she scolded herself while she donned her breastplate and greaves.

  “My thanks, Knight Vega. When you return, I’ll see that your armor is waiting in the bay for you.” Paladin Brandis promised, a heavy hand landing on her shoulder. “As well as a frazzled Maxson, if I play my cards right.” The old man grinned, his eyes still sad. “You two can help yourselves to anything in the bunker. I’ve collected some odds and ends over the years, so if you see something you need it’s yours.”

  “Much obliged, sir.” Backhand said gratefully, struggling to recall what Preston had asked her to pick up in her travels. Well, we can always use more aluminum ...

Part Five

#fallout 4 #fallout four #paladin danse #paladin danse x sole survivor #paladin danse/sole survivor #paladin danse x f!sole #fallout #bethesda #video games #BOS #brotherhood of steel #enjoy!

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (26)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  In which the ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on how much you would enjoy it.

Current Word Count -  74,382

Chapter Twenty Six - The Cat's Out Of The Bag

The Avengers were gathered in a meeting room in the tower, waiting on Ross. The mood was sombre. Their friend had just been dragged away to be put only god knows where and they hadn’t had the chance to explain to her why there was a video of her killing and nearly dying that existed to be leaked online in the first place.

���Who leaked that footage?” Sam asked the question they were all wondering.

“Docherty. He has to have been watching her, or having people do it for him more accurately.” Steve guessed.

“Why leak it today? Why now?” Rhodey enquired.

“She’s his Vernichtung, his little world ender. Having her being hailed as a hero must have pissed him off.” Tony said wearily.

“This is good. We’ve been looking for a way to get to him for a long time and we had nothing. Now he’s shown a weakness, something we can exploit. The angrier we make him, the more likely he is to make a mistake.” Natasha reasoned.

“First we have to get my little girl out of Ross’s clutches. I don’t trust him any more than I do Docherty.” Tony snapped.

“He’s right. Ross has been trying to get his hands on The Hulk for a long time, god knows what he’ll do with Vernichtung.” Bruce agreed.

“The X-Men said they would gave her sanctuary but that only works as long as nobody knows she’s with them. They won’t help break her out. The Avengers can’t be seen doing it either. I’ll have to take the fall for this, I’ll take her and we can go into hiding. Cap can you contact T’Challa? See if he can help?” Tony asked, pacing as he made plans.

“I’ll think we should take a page out of Romanov’s book and fight Docherty with his own tactics.” Bucky spoke up for the first time.

“That’s not a bad idea. It’ll push Ross into a corner and put Docherty off his game at the same time.” Steve mused.

“Plus it will put Docherty’s face on the map. It’ll be much harder fro him to hide.” Natasha added.

“For those of us not following?” Sam probed.

“The Vernichtung Files. We release them.” Bucky said.

“That’s the worst idea I’ve heard all day.” Rhodey stated.

“You want to expose Kit Kat to the world like that? No.” Tony said firmly.

“Tony the whole world knows what she can do and who she is. So let’s show them how much she’s endured and how many times she said no to using that power to hurt anyone.” Natasha said diplomatically.

“She’s a hero, we all know it. It’s time the world did as well.” Steve added.

Everyone but Tony and Rhodey looked convinced. Tony looked frazzled and torn but before he could press further, Secretary Ross came sweeping into the room.

“Where the hell is my kid Ross? You have no right to take her away like that, she gets to have a lawyer. As her father, her next of kin I demand to know where she is.” Tony insisted.

“You aren’t in a position to be making demands, any of you. You harboured an unregistered powered person and took them on active missions. If a fraction of what is on that footage turns out to be true, you’ve been sitting on the human equivalent of a nuclear bomb.” Ross said, his voice dripping with unbearable smugness.  

“Then slap me on the wrists, put me in the naughty corner, prosecute me if you like. I don’t give a damn. I want to know where my daughter is.” Tony yelled.

“Oh there will be ramifications, for everyone. The UN will not let this slide.”

“You mean there will be ramifications for Stark and myself.” Bucky spoke up,

“I beg your pardon Mr Barnes?”

“There’s nothing on that video to suggest any other member of The Avengers knew about her. Matter of fact, Tony didn’t arrive until after. Maybe he didn’t know either.” Bucky said smoothly.

Ross’s jaw worked furiously as he tried to catch up to what Bucky was implying.

“The only person you can say with absolute certainty knew about Miss Starks abilities was me.” He continued.

“That’s not going to look good for anybody. Prosecuting a man you only recently pardoned. I’d hate to be you in that scenario.” Natasha said, catching on.

“Oh no, you can not spin this to your advantage. You really think you’re going to get away with this? The evidence speaks for itself.” Ross sneered.

“Speaking of evidence...” Dr Banner spoke and everybody turned to look at him. He smiled softly with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Were you aware that Benjamin Newlands was creating a deadly virus to unleash on a well populated country? Doesn’t he have an uncle on the UN council?” Bruce continued.

“He does, his father in law sits on the council as well.” Natasha added.

“In case you were wondering, yes we do have evidence. Irrefutable in fact. There’s a witness who worked on the virus, a paper trail showing Mr Newlands plans for after the virus was unleashed and a sample of the virus itself.” Bruce concluded.

“And you want to know the kicker Ross, the final damning fact? It was ‘deathwave’ who infiltrated Newlands home, destroyed the facility and obtained the virus so a cure could be synthesized.” Natasha said, hitting the final nail into the coffin.

“So you currently have the hero who discovered a traitor in the UN in your custody.” Steve summarised.

Secretary Ross had gone pale. They had him over a barrel and he knew it.

“It’s a good thing you decided to utilise a valuable asset to weed out the traitor and saved millions of lives in the process. Of course you had to hold off on having Miss Stark signing the accords, this whole sting operation only worked so long as nobody knew who she was. This was well played Sir.” Rhodey said diplomatically.

They all held their breath while they waited to see if the Secretary Of State would take the bait. He could take the messy path and throw her into a cell despite the backlash he would receive or he could go along with the plan they had just laid out. Turn her into the hero who saved the Accords from being tainted by War Crimes and Genocide.

“Before you say anything else Secretary Ross, there’s something you should see.” Natasha said.

Everyone looked at Tony and after a long moment he nodded.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Breaking News! More details on the story of ‘Deathwave’, Tony Stark’s illegitimate daughter have come to light.” The news anchor announced.

“Well the cat is well and truly out of the bag now.” Rhodey remarked.

“We made the right move, now that crowd outside who already think she’s a hero is going to grow exponentially. Show people footage of a scared little girl standing up to a bully and then have The Secretary Of State announce she was secretly working for them to single handedly take down a madman who wanted to kill millions and by this time tomorrow the whole world is going to love The Newest Avenger.” Clint said.

“We made her The Media Darling and Dr Jack Docherty public enemy number one in one fell swoop. I’d call that a win.”

“Yeah, now all we have to do is find a way to explain to her why she doesn’t remember killing 200 people or being shot in the heart.” Sam snapped bitterly.

Bucky had had enough of listening to them all congratulate themselves and bicker. It was going to be a lot to process for her and forgiveness for all they had done wouldn’t come easily. Everytime he got somewhere with her something got in the way and he was sick of it.

Would this be the final straw? Would she give up on him, on them? Would she go back to hating him?

“WHO WAS IT?” Tony yelled, storming into the room.

“Wasn’t me.” Clint said immediately.

“Who was what Tony?” Steve asked calmly.

“Ross just called his men to have her released and brought back here. Only he can’t do that because someone broke her out of custody.”

His revelation was met with silence.

“Nobody wants to fess up?” Tony pressed, slightly urgently.

Nobody spoke up and a chill ran up Bucky’s spine. If none of them had broke her out, then who had?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You slowly roused from a deep sleep. The last thing you remembered was a lot of screaming, a klaxon blaring and a flash of red. You shot up into a sitting position, taking in your surrounding rapidly.

You were on a tatty sofa, springs digging into you. The room was musty and well lived in to put it politely. The door was kicked open loudly and your kidnapper/saviour came literally skipping into the room.

“GOOD MORNING SUNSHINE!”

The defensive stance you sprung into was instinctual but the red spandex clad figure ignored it and held out something to you.

“Chimichanga?”

“Who the hell are you?” You snarled at him.

“I’m Deadpool sweetcheeks, and you should really already know that but the author really wanted me to say it out loud so there was no confusion for the readers so I’ll let it slide.” He announced tearing open the foil wrapped Chimichanga and taking an obscenely huge bite.

“Alright Deadpool, did you rescue me or kidnap me?” You enquired.

“Technically both Princess Peach. Ooooh, that’s what I’ll call you from now on since I’m not allowed to say your name.”

“Alright… what?” You were utterly lost.

“Quick note. The last person to rescue you adopted you so by those rules, you have to call me daddy. Or Daddypool.”

“I am not calling you Daddy.” You insisted with a confused grimace.

“Daddypool it is.” He said, clapping his hands together in excitement.

He leapt onto the couch you’d woken up on and struck a heroic pose.

“Now let’s end this chapter so everyone can mentally prepare themselves for the upcoming grand adventures of the dynamic duo…. Princess Peach and Daddypool!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Short but important chapter... I really really hope you like this. It's a creative gamble on my part. Please like it!!! *sweats nervously*

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first@chook007@thejourneyneverendsx@thelostallycat@inquisitor-selvala@the-corruptor @iovher@kendrawr-kitkat@phoenix-whiskey-tears @the–real-wombat@buckitybarnes@fairislesheets@angieptt@meganjonezzzz

@dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty@memanda17@krystallynx@theonelittleone

@piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes@tarastudiesalot@captainamericasbeard

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #avengers x reader #hattersmarvelverse

[variabels]

Fictober 2019 #1 Ganondorf creates a Kpop group

A/N: Yo, what is up? I’m back with the crack. I’m in such a good mood because my three fav players (Leff, Armada and my man, Samsora) made it into summit.

Anyway, this is part of the fic I started last fictober I suck at romance. You can read it if you want, chapter 4 is my favorite one. But to summarize, you just need to know that Link wants to break up with Zelda because he’s bored of their relationship and that Ganondorf works at the Apple store in costumer service where he’s really just doing odd jobs and getting paid a lot to the point he’s the asset of the store.

Prompt number:  1 “It will be fun, trust me.”

Fandom (AU if applicable): Super Smash Bros

Rating: Idk, T.

Warnings/Tags: kpop

Words: Idk, I just write everything in a long file with a bunch of crap, so I couldn’t count.

Ships: Link x Zelda. A bit of Marth x Roy, mainly Ike making jokes about them. At this point, I think Ganondorf x his job at the Apple store qualifies as a ship.

“Won’t lie, you’re the last person I expected to see here,” Ganondorf admitted as he stared at the short blond in front of him, “You must be in quite the pickle if you’re asking me for help.”

“I have no other choice,” Link sighed, “I’ve tried everything and I always fail.”

“Not surprised. What do you need help with anyways?”

“Help me break up with Zelda.”

“You truly are desperate.”

---

Ganondorf had gathered Link and his friends to the training room. No one was quite sure why they had to be there but Link had told them it would be fun.

Ganondorf entered the room holding a huge radio and a bag full of CDs and accessories. He set everything up and soon, the training room looked more like a stage.

“I am training you guys for karaoke,” Ganondorf announced, “You five will be singing some Kpop songs about breakups with Link as the center. Any objections?”

“I can’t read!” Pit reminded Ganondorf.

“And I can’t dance, like at all,” Roy admitted, “Dancing doesn’t run on mom’s side of the family.”

“I don’t like karaoke,” Ike said, “I’ve never even sung before.”

“Can I be G-Dragon?” Marth asked.

Ganondorf facepalmed so hard he almost had to go to the doctor. He was not ready to work with the group of idiotic friends. When they were all separated, the five friends were actually quite competent, but having them all in one room reduced their collective IQ to 0.

But there was no time for the Gerudo king to worry about his own feelings. He had to get the job done, nothing was more important than his reputation as the most valuable employee of the Apple store.

After a week of training, the boys were ready. But they still had to choose a song and that was probably the hardest part of the whole plan. They needed a song that was quite clear on the message Link wanted to convey.

Ganondorf had prepared a list of songs but clearly, none of the boys besides Link really cared about the list. They all wanted to sing their favorite songs instead and those songs happened to be the complete opposite of the concept Ganondorf and Link wanted.

“No, Marth, we can’t sing Bang Bang Bang,” Roy argued, “Fantastic Baby is clearly the superior BigBang song.”

“That’s not true and you know it!” Marth snapped, “Bang Bang Bang is way better, plus it fits with our breakup concept. If the only word Zelda understands is bang, she’ll think that Link’s shooting her.”

“But according to your line distributions, we’re the only ones saying bang bang bang. She won’t think Link’s the one shooting her.”

“She’ll think that you two should go bang bang bang in your room,” Ike smirked, “We should sing As if it’s your last.”

“I want to sing Gangnam Style!” Pit smiled.

Ganondorf sighed and looked at Link for answers. The Hylian said he’d go ask Zelda what music she liked so that he could choose the exact opposite.

---

Zelda was walking around the Smash Mansion’s garden when Link ran up to her. Link never ran up to her, so she knew he had something important to say.

“Zelda, what’s your favorite Kpop group?”

Zelda was shocked. Link never asked her questions. Was he finally trying to be a decent boyfriend?

“Um, I only really like EXO and Red Velvet.”

“BigBang and Blackpink it is.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Do you want to go to the karaoke tonight?”

“Karaoke?”

“It will be fun, trust me.”

Zelda naturally accepted. She didn’t know why Link chose the karaoke but he always chose weird places for their dates. She was excited Link was the one asking her on a date for once. But she couldn’t help but think something was wrong.

---

It was the night of the karaoke. Ganondorf had gathered the boys for one last training session. While the three Fire Emblem lords had a boring fight about what the microphones’ colors should be, Link asked Pit for a request.

“Pit, I need you to act as cute as possible so that you can seduce Zelda,” Link told the angel, “That way, she’ll move over really quickly after our breakup and she won’t be sad about it.”

“But I don’t want to date Zelda,” Pit complained.

“Yeah, I don’t blame you.”

“All of you shut up and listen to my advice!” Ganondorf yelled, “Link, you need to make sure all the random stranger girls fall for you so that Zelda gets even more pissed off. It would be even better if you fell for one so that you’d finally have the motivation to break up with her. Or fall for one of your friends, I don’t care. Just fucking break up with her already, I have a reputation to uphold.”

---

Zelda had chosen her coolest dress in the hopes of impressing Link. Had she really been serious about impressing him, she would have changed her hair.

As she entered the karaoke, she noticed Link and his four friends. Zelda wanted to groan very loudly. Link was obsessed with his friends, it was like he was more in love with them, than he was with her. If he liked one of them, why didn’t he just break up with her?

Zelda wanted to yell at him but she quickly remembered Link had never specified it was a date and sighed with relief. Still, she hoped that if Link really did leave her, it wasn’t for one of his friends. She politely greeted Link and his friends and they all prepared to take the stage.

“I want to dedicate these songs to Zelda,” Link spoke into the microphone.

Zelda was really happy her boyfriend was singing something for her, he had even gotten his friends to help. Except that he’d chosen to sing a song she didn’t like. She assumed he was saving the best for last since he was going to sing multiple songs.

But she didn’t like any of the songs they were singing. She didn’t care that their dancing and singing were almost inexistent, she just wanted to hear songs she liked. Meanwhile, the crowd appeared to be really into the performance.

Zelda got herself a glass of water and sighed as she watched the performance. There was no coordination at all. Marth and Roy were getting significantly more lines than the others because they chose to song Japanese versions of the songs, Link was getting all the English parts and Ike was doing random adlibs. Poor Pit didn’t even have his microphone on.

Zelda felt so bad for the angel. He was clearly putting everything into the performance but since he couldn’t read, he wasn’t allowed to shine. Yet despite this, he stood out to her because of how cute he was.

“What am I thinking?” Zelda said out loud, “I’ve already been through this.”

Zelda was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the pattern in the song choice. Ganondorf realized Zelda wasn’t paying attention, so he told Link to start plan B.

“Zelda, this song describes what I feel towards you,” Link said.

“Please fuck me, Link!” some random girl in the crowd shouted.

“I’m so sick of this fake love! Fake love!”

Link was screaming at the top of his lungs but Zelda somehow managed to assume that he was being sarcastic and giggled thinking it was a joke. Zelda, why?

It was break time and Ganondorf gathered all the boys in the men's room. Link and Zelda were going to break up or his name wouldn’t be Ganondorf, the Apple Store’s best employee anymore.

“Guys, sing the most disorganized mess you can think of. I’ll play all your songs at the same time.”

Everyone seemed pretty happy with his suggestion. They changed into the outfits they actually wanted to wear and rushed back to the stage.

“Zelda listen carefully,” Link said as the start of Zelda’s favorite song ever started to play.

Now Zelda’s attention was on the stage. She couldn’t wait for Link to start singing. But before she knew it, the song stopped and five songs played at the exact same time. No one was even singing the same song, they were all in their little bubbles and somehow still managing to hype up the crowd.

Zelda was pissed off. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She hated being pranked. But she hated when her favorite artists were insulted. She went up the stage to confront her boyfriend.

“What was that?” the angry girlfriend yelled, “How could you insult my favorite song like that?”

“After all of this, you couldn’t even figure out what I’ve been trying to tell you?” a clearly annoyed Link asked.

“Oh, I’ve figured it all out. You hate my favorite music. Link, we’re over!”

“Wait… Are you serious? Are we finally breaking up?”

“Yes, you never truly loved me. You just wanted to bang all your friends.”

“Eh, close enough.”

“Oh, wow...” Marth blushed, “I never knew Link felt that way about us.”

“Now that that’s settled,” Ike started, “We just need Roy to take Marth to his room and bang bang bang his brains out so-.”

“W-what!?”

“Great idea, let’s go sing Bang Bang Bang in our room,” Roy interrupted.

---

The boys returned to Marth, Roy and Ike’s room to celebrate Link’s breakup. While Marth and Roy sang BigBang songs, the others talked about the day’s events.

“I can’t believe I’m finally single again!” Link sighed in relief, “And she was the one to break up with me, so she won’t feel depressed for a month.”

“Why did you even date her if you didn’t love her?” Pit asked.

“Her eyebrows were better than my Zelda’s eyebrows. I just had to say yes when she asked me out.”

“I can’t believe you dated her for a petty reason and she broke up with you for a petty reason,” Ike facepalmed.

---

Meanwhile, Ganondorf was sitting on his desk laughing his ass off as he counted all the money he had gotten. He was the best Apple store employee the store could ever dream of. He would have accepted a promotion, but he wouldn’t get paid as much.

The King of Darkness laughed the entire night much to his roommates’ dismay.

---

A/N: I actually really like kpop and I respect all the groups mentioned. I just thought it would be fucking funny to have Link and Zelda break up over kpop.

#fictober19 #link x zelda #ssb #ssbu #super smash bros #super smash bros ultimate #link #zelda #the legend of zelda #zelink #loz #tloz #legend of zelda #zelda x link #marth #roy #marth x roy #marroy #maroy #roy x marth #ike #fire emblem heroes #fire emblem #fe #feh #fe heroes #pit #kid icarus #ganon #ganondorf

[babblingblondegenius]

Describe yourself with 9 pictures you have on your phone. You can’t download or search for new picture; tagged by two amazing fandom friends @hope-for-olicity​ and @allimariexf​ - thank you!

1. I figured this was a good place to start lol.  I am an April baby.  As for the rest of the descriptions, some are more accurate than others. ;)

2. This is where I was born and raised.  I developed a love for all bodies of water and a healthy respect for gators.  It will always be part of who I am.

3. I moved away from home when I was 20. One of the reasons Arrow resonated with me was because of OTA and the concept of found families.  I’ve been lucky enough to have a few in my lifetime, including all of you! :)

4. I’m not a morning person...unless I’m at the beach.  And then some unknown internal force wakes me up before dawn every morning so I can witness the majesty of the sun rising over the horizon.  And I’m never more at peace.

5. This picture combines two of my favorite things--the beach and the Wizard of Oz. The quote is ‘you don’t need to be helped any longer; you always had the power.’  There is never anything wrong with receiving help and it can come in many forms.  But there are times even when we are surrounded by people who care about us, we still feel alone.  And those times when we are overwhelmed, we can easily discount ourselves as our own catalyst for change.  It seems so much harder to be proactive rather than reactive. Things feel hopeless and we feel helpless until we remember that the power to create change is inside us.  Some days, making that change is easier said than done.  Sometimes change doesn’t happen in the time frame or the way we expect.   We are stronger than we realize and every experience is an opportunity for growth, even if we don’t understand it at the time.  This picture reminds me to believe in myself.

6. I like live theatre events more than I like movie theater productions.  I was very excited I finally got to see Wicked last year.  We had awesome seats and the show was phenomenal.  

7. I love to travel and explore new places.  One of my favorite trips was to Colorado. The pic doesn’t do it justice but the earth and sky seem to be one.  

8. I believe in giving back if you are able.  The logo above the fireplace is for St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.  Cancer research is something near and dear to my heart.  As I’ve grown more disillusioned with some of the larger charitable organizations over the years, my focus has turned to community endeavors where funds actually benefit those in need.  In lieu of money, time and passion are valuable assets.  What makes this fandom extraordinary are your kind hearts and charitable natures and I’m so proud of what we have accomplished by coming together in support of so many wonderful causes. <3

9. The reason I’m here--Olicity!  This is a picture I took of my Oliver and Felicity funko pops illuminated by candlelight to recreate the 3x20 goodbye scene.  I can’t remember why I took this picture but I’ll never forget the impact that they have had on my life.  Because of them, I created my first (and only) blog, started writing and engaging my creative side again, have laughed and cried and felt every emotion in-between, enjoyed magnificent fan creations of all kinds, and had the privilege to be part of the most amazing fandom to ever exist.  xo

Tagging: anyone who wants to do it!  Please tag me so I can see your pics and responses.  And if you aren’t comfortable, no worries either. :) I still struggle with sharing personal pics/info so I hope I found a happy middle ground with this.

#about me #fandom fun #fandom friends #awesome people are awesome #can't wait to learn more about you

[laurasinele]

To bring him back (a Fictober19 Stucky drabble)

Prompt 21: “Changes is annoyingly difficult”

Fandom: MCU

Tags: light angst, canonical memory loss, implied past relationship, stucky

Warnings: none apply

Ao3

It comes a time in one’s life when, after being confronted with the impossible enough times, nothing is impossible anymore. 

Steve Rogers had faced enough impossibles to believe almost anything. That’s why he didn’t second-guess much his gut when it jolted at the close sight of the ultimate assassin’s eyes. He could have sworn that was Bucky’s brow, Bucky’s nose bridge, Bucky’s determined gaze. He just needed to confirm with some authority that whatever unbelievable lost link in this narrative was a reality. Time travel, cloning, more super-soldier serum… He didn’t even questioned why his childhood friend, his best and only true friend, was trying to kill him. There sure must have been a reasonable explanation for it. Like extraterrestrial forces. Or fairies. 

The following months of fights and disagreement, of conspiracies and treason, were just a blur. Nothing compared to the fact that Bucky was alive. Nothing as hurtful as the fact that his childhood friend, his best and only true friend, didn’t remember him. Nothing as plunging as the realisation that this was the proverbial end of the line. Again. 

In the end, at a great cost, the Avengers assembled anew, and they took Bucky in. Better with them than against them, was the reasoning behind his recruitment. He underwent a gruelling neuro-psychological procedure to get rid of each and every trigger mechanism. The matter of getting his pre-Winter Soldier memories back was never risen. When Steve asked, everybody from SHIELD’s medical staff to Banner and even Loki and Dr. Strange told him it could happen or not, but there wasn’t a way to bring them back on purpose. As knowledgeable as they all were in their own fields, the human mind, they said, was still one of the greatest mysteries of the universe. 

The Avenger known as Winter Soldier was a quiet superhuman with an enhanced metal arm. His face and voice and date of birth were those of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, declared missing in action during a Howling Commandos mission against HYDRA. There’s where any similarity ended. Where Bucky had been good-humored, the Winter Soldier was brooding. Where Bucky had been extroverted and easy-going, the Winter Soldier kept to himself and was always one fraction of a step away of inabiliting the closest menace. Where there used to be that famous charming smile of Bucky, the Winter Soldier’s lips where always pressed thin, downcast, and his gaze was the closest thing to the void Steve could imagine. 

After all, the end of the line had arrived when Bucky fell of that moving train and Steve failed to catch him. There was no impossible turned true for them. His childhood friend, his best and only true friend, was gone. 

The world underwent several catastrophes, most of which never made the public eye, a handful of them solved without even leaving the Avengers headquarters. Old frictions smoothed, new friendships were born. Steve only looked longingly at the Winter Soldier every now and then, trying to find any sign of old Bucky’s personality resurfacing. It was an afterthought now. Those who had been worried for him and called it obsession in the first weeks didn’t even noticed.

The first time the Winter Soldier smiled, Steve dropped his mug of coffee. He said it was lack of sleep and everyone believed him. 

It wasn’t a big smile. His face relaxed for a moment and the corners of his lips perked up slightly. Steve had made a joke that he thought no-one would get when they’d asked him about being in “active service”. They meant literally, as in the military, but he made a sexual innuendo, because in his time “active service” could mean being sexually active. He said it rejoicing in the fact that no-one would get it and he would left them wondering once more about his sex life. But Bucky, no, the Winter Soldier, had smiled imperceptibly as he kept his head down, studying the history of the decades he had missed. 

Wanda catched the mug before it shattered against the floor, Steve made his lame excuse about not sleeping enough, retrieved his coffee and headed to his bedroom to try and calm down. It had been just a smile. A smile because of a joke that could have been funny in the forties. A joke he did several times with the Howling Commandos. “I’ve never been officially in active service in my whole life”. It could mean anything and it was funny because, literally, it was true but, figuratively, it left them wondering. But the Winter Soldier surely didn’t remember that. He probably smiled because that bit of slang was in his vocabulary, nothing more. Bucky was gone. He was the Winter Soldier now. 

Steve wasn’t sure if he needed a nap or a 50 miles sprint, now. He took his sweatpants off and put on a pair of rated jeans and a zipped hoodie over his plain white tee. He put on his baseball cap and fake glasses and headed out, to his exhibit. That, he reminded himself, was the only place where he could see Bucky, the real one. He looked more alive in the black and white footage than the Winter Soldier had ever managed to look in the real world. Now Steve needed to punch something, since there was no one left of those who did that to Bucky. The ones that killed Bucky. The ones creating an impossible in this stupid world where everything could be but this. It was a too loud world, too bright, too fast. Steve needed some respite. Maybe sleep would have been a better idea.

--

He couldn’t help but try, because of course he couldn’t. He had never been known for dropping things. He had been known for following his gut and ending up being right. So he kept peppering his speeches and chats with subtle hints to the thirties and forties in Brooklyn. Very specific things that only someone who’d been there would get, but not as singular as to catch the other Avenger’s attention. 

The Winter Soldier got them all. And Steve emboldened with each smirk, huff and glance. They were all very subtle and never led to a meaningful conversation. The Winter Soldier’s acknowledgement of Steve’s strategy finished in the non verbal hints of getting the reference. Tony Stark’s acknowledgement of Steve’s strategy was more direct. 

“A word, Cap”, said Tony after a briefing. When everybody left the room to their assignments, Steve cocked his head and waited for Tony to say something. “You know I am not against him anymore, do you?”

Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Tony…”

“Because I don’t. I swear, I learnt. We all learnt. He was a problem, until we realised he was a victim, and now he is a very valuable asset”

“What’s your point?”

Tony sighed through his nose while pursing his lips and weighing Steve with a stare. 

“I wouldn’t want him to become a liability”.

Steve felt the all anger of their Civil War creep in and zero into Tony’s solar plexus. He managed to refrain but he wasn’t amiable when he spoke. 

“Again, what’s your point?”

“I know what you are doing. I don’t think anybody else has, I just happen to pay a lot of attention to you. Well, probably Nat knows too, because she’s rolled her eyes at me a couple of times when you drop…”

“Okay, enough”. Steve knew better that denying it, but that didn’t mean he was willing to discuss it. “Your advice is noted. I won’t let it become a liability, but I won’t let it go either, because if there is a single chance to bring him back I will try. I won’t put it before the Avengers or the world’s safety, but will keep trying until he’s back or until one of us dies, whatever happens first”.

When Tony spoke he did it softly, measuring his words, the ghost of their past enmity very much present.

“Captain. Bucky is gone. You mourned him. If he ever comes back, that’s great, but chances are he won’t. And we cannot afford to have the greatest strategic mind of the planet distracted with psychological games and grief. It wouldn’t be betrayal if you let it go”

“It would”, he said defiantly, before speaking more calmly: “Advice noted, Stark. I will bear it in mind, I promise. You don’t have to worry”.

--

It had been a long time since Steve had gotten in the exhibition outside opening hours. Still, the guard tipped his cap as he opened the door for him.

“Long time no see, Captain”

“Been busy”, he smiled. “How are things, Alan?”

“Great as usual. You’ve got company by the way”, added Alan when Steve was about to round the corner. He stopped on his tracks to ask who, a cautious, calculating expression on his face, but then he saw the Winter Soldier standing in front of one of the panels. He turned his head and saluted, wearing that blank expression of his.

Steve approached him and stood by his side for a while. When the video on the screen had finished a loop, Steve talked in a low voice:

“Never took you for a nostalgic”.

The Winter Soldier hummed and turned to Steve:

“Me or your good ol’ pal Bucky?”

Steve looked at him not really sure if that was a genuine question, and accusation a retort or what in hell. The Winter Soldier walked to the next panel and Steve followed him.

“I come here every now and then. I try to make sure we won’t meet, because I don’t want to disturb you. I know this has some importance for you”.

“It has. I appreciate the thought”. And then, after hesitating for a while, he added: “Why do you come?”

The Winter Soldier shrugged.

“To see if it all comes back. It never does though”.

Steve’s face fell and the Winter Soldier noticed. He continued, this time looking at Steve.

“I come here after certain dreams or flashes. I don’t remember much aside from my.. HYDRA missions. And some unconnected things. More sensations than images or memories. Sometimes I dream a game of throw in an alley. Sometimes it’s me lying on a couch, looking at a chapped ceiling. A fan is buzzing and someone is drawing. I can hear the pencil against the paper and I can feel boredom and frustration, because I want them to stop and go play. I remember some things from the war too. As I said, only flashes. I come here and look at the pictures and try to find some link between them”.

Steve breathing was heavy and his jaw was set without him even realizing. He made himself look away from the Winter Soldier and into Bucky’s mugshot in the panel. Their expressions were so different it could have been an entirely different face. 

“Why haven’t you come to me? I could help you figure out those memories. We were joined at the hip, I probably remember those moments too. If I had known you were starting to remember I’d probably…”

“Change…” interrupted the Winter Soldier in his low monotone voice, “is annoyingly difficult. Specially when your mind has been set to a single track and you were excellent at it. It feels slow. It feels like disappointment. I don’t really remember you. I know we were good friends because I’ve been told, and I’ve read here”, he said nodding towards the panel in front of them, “but I don’t know why. I don’t know what happened. And I see what you do to try and bring this guy back, and the faces you make when I just don’t react. I didn’t want to give you false hopes in case he never really comes back. I know you must miss him a lot”.

“Oh, yeah? How would you know that?”, asked Steve with a sad laugh. The Winter Soldier turned his back to the panel, sighed and put his hands in his pockets. 

“There’s this feeling whenever I look at you. Like I want to punch you and kiss you at the same time. And during missions, there’s this need to protect you at all costs, as if you weren’t a virtually immortal super soldier. I don’t know where it comes from, but I know it’s Bucky’s”.

Steve looked at him, mouth hanging slightly. The Winter Soldier sighed again, turned his face to Steve and tried a small, apologetic smile. 

“That’s how I know, pal. He misses you too”.

Steve watched the Winter Soldier walk down the hall towards the exit. He turned back to the panel and Bucky’s mugshot. And he saw the very same smile the Winter Soldier had just given him. Steve smiled in return. It wasn’t a sad or unrealistically hopeful smile. It was the smile that had always made his way to his lips whenever Bucky was around. The one with which he said “hello” to him, and “goodbye”. The one with which he said “thank you”, “I’m sorry” or “I’m glad you’re here”. The one that loudly stated “I love you” for nobody to hear but his childhood friend, his best and only true friend. And he might be getting the echoes of it. 

#fictober19 #stucky #steve rogers/bucky barnes #steve rogers #Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #captain america #Winter Soldier

[anon-nolastname]

1-10 for the question thingy

Woah, that’s a um, a lot😂 sorry, I’m just not used to people wanting to know a lot but thank you! I have the tendency to overthink a lot of things and so expect long answers, I guess.

1 ) “Which Dia Boy would you bring home to meet your parents?”

 - I don’t know whether “bring home to your parents” is a metaphor for who would you date or actually bring home to your parents as your lover but I’ll answer either way. If we’re referring to simply date, I would say Reiji as he falls under the stereotype of characters that I find myself liking, those who are extremely different from me in reality and would never get along with me. If we’re referring to actually notifying my parents about them and going to meet my said lover, it would be Ruki. He falls under the same category as Reiji however he has a less overpowering aura, if that makes sense? He gives off a less “power-hungry” or rather has a less respect demanding aura? ( I can’t word that properly, I’m so sorry.)

2) “What would you do to survive the Sakamaki family’s mansion?”

 - I’m not a very valuable asset nor do I have one, skill or talent. I’m viewing these questions from a realistic perspective and if I were faced in a situation such as Yui’s, I would do anything at that point. I could only offer what I think I do best and what other people think I do too, paint for them, sing for them, serve as their personal servant, give anything valuable I have for the expense of my life. Seems like I’m giving up, but I guess I can’t really do anything else. Of course, this is if I had no prior knowledge to their history otherwise, I would hold on to my dignity a bit more and attempt to help them find their way.

3) “Which Dia Boy would you want to meet in real life?”

 - Are we thinking long term or just to meet them? I would love to meet Kou Mukami because it would be nice to see a cheery and spontaneous person with such an entertaining lifestyle. If it means the boy I would like to continuously meet in real life, perhaps Laito as I find him to have an equally entertaining lifestyle and I like him in an older-brotherly type of way. He reminds me of my own brother, actually, but with spot-on intuition.

4) “Unpopular opinion about the series?”

 - Series as in the anime or the game? In general, I think it might not be so unpopular here in tumblr but, I really admire Yui’s character. She may not be the most physically capable but the fact that she still remains faithful to what she believes in, still somehow acts as kind as she does, gives people the benefit of the doubt, and let’s the boys show their lowest state to her and not to take advantage of that? A saint. I don’t think she’s particularly bright either, in a sense of not knowing when they’ve overstepped their boundaries, but she mostly knows when to keep her mouth shut.

5) “Something you want to see in the series in the future?”

 - Since I’m not as obsessed as most Diabolik Lovers fans, I’m not really up to date with all the games and all the individual routes but I would like to know more about KarlHeinz himself. I know that we eventually find out his motive for the Adam and Eve project but there has to be more to it than that. What prompts him to think the way he does? How was the relationship (more in depth) between him and his brother before they were torn apart by their interest in the same woman? How does his mind function, his mental state, his moral compass, and a whole lot of stuff I want to know however it may not be so essential to the plot line so I doubt they’ll actually include such things. 

6) “Favorite DL game so far?”

 - Again, I’m not one to be heavily invested into the fandom as one of the girls in my class is but I haven’t read through the translations of the routes of all the games yet. But so far, Lunatic Parade is my favorite as the interactions between both parties are hilarious! I become invested in things only when it sparks an intense interest within me, and I don’t particularly like it when that happens because I obsess over things and people just as intensely. Maybe I was obsessed 5 years ago and was completely in love with the game when I first found it but I overcame it as a lot of depressing things happened in the time period I enjoyed it hahaha.

8) “Nicknames for the Diaboys?”

 - Dear God, since I wasn’t good with names about 5 years ago when I first entered the fandom and a couple of years after that when the More, Blood anime came out, I gave them nicknames to remember them more so these were the names I thought of before lmao

Shu - Sleeping Beauty      Ruki - Rookie (I’m not joking)  Carla - First Blood

Reiji - Mom                       Kou - Fuuto                               Shin - wolf boy

Laito - Happosai              Yuma - Lighthouse

Kanato - Candy boy         Azusa - Kevin McCallister

Ayato - I actually just stuck to “ore-sama” but I would nickname him Narcissus

Subaru - No lie, I was young and didn’t know any better but I named him Rose and didn’t immediately think of the car

9) “Favorite thing about the fandom?”

 - I guess I can’t say much butttt I am a huge fan of the original characters that the fandom has come up with! That’s probably one of the reasons why I’ve decided to illustrate the oc’s of both well-known and not so popular oc blogs because I find more and more creative people with great writing skills and original ideas. I am not exaggerating when I say that I’ve read the basics about all of the oc’s I’ve illustrated. I have a particular favorite one but let’s just say that I want to know so much more about their character’s story and their journey.

10) “Least favorite thing about the fandom?”

 - The fact that there are many people who like to think one character is completely theirs, entirely theirs, and that no other person has the right to like the same character. I get it, you like this person and the prospect of your love interest being stolen from you enrages you but may I remind you, they’re fictional. They are characters that will never reciprocate your feelings as themselves because they don’t exist, the possibility of them reciprocating your feelings are more unlikely than to have a celebrity fall in love with you. 

Thank you for asking anon!

[whitleyschn33]

People in the fandom always act like it is the weirdest thing that whitley dislikes winter and weiss and im like... with a father like that it's perfectly understandable? I mean all jacques really cares about is the company and it makes sense that the youngest kid would be resentful of his older siblings bc he is the least likely to inherit the company, meaning that whitley had to try harder to his impress his father and get his father to care about him. Thats just my theory tho.

First off, I am so sorry I have not responded to this sooner. I didn’t have an immediate response to this when I first got it, and did not want to write my answer through mobile, so I pushed it aside and kinda sorta forgot about it, but I was going through my Tumblr and remembered that I had never responded to this, and I had really want to, so I am so sorry I took so long to respond. 

Yes, I can definitely see Whitley not being too fond of his sisters at a younger age for that reason, especially if you consider their father being the only adult to have any sort of interest AT ALL in their lives (Mother Schnee doesn’t seem to give a crap, and hasn’t for a while). As the youngest and last in line, it would make sense that Jacques wouldn’t care as much about Whitley, spending more time dealing with Winter and Weiss’s antics.  Despite the fact that being front and center in Daddy’s vision is not a good thing, it probably would have appealed to Whitley more than being neglected. Sometimes it’s better to be seen for something bad than to be ignored. So I could definitely see Whitley doing his best to be Daddy’s perfect little boy to earn his father’s favor and approval. I mean, I think everyone can agree that at one point or another that we’ve all wanted to make our parents proud of us. In Whitley’s case, I do believe that he was abused like Winter and Weiss, so I can see him believing that being super good and working towards being a valuable asset to the company (maybe not the heir, but someone hard-working that could be relied on) would get him the positive attention he craved; it would make his father stop hurting him and give him approval. As heiresses, Winter and Weiss were already far closer to that than Whitley was, so it must have made him mad to see them just “throw away” what Whitley would have died to have, and then have the nerve to turn on him for wanting to have his father’s approval.

I don’t know. I don’t think that that’s preciously what happened, but I think it is very plausible, and it would be an interesting way to mold Whitley’s character. This theory may very definitely play a part, but I don’t think it’s the whole story.

But feel free to refute me and explain your own headcanons/theories. I’m always happy to talk about Whitley, and these kind of things keep the blog alive (there’s just so little content, and I’m not very good at making my own without it feeling like retreading what I’ve already said before).

Thank you!

#Whitley schnee #weiss schnee #winter schnee #Jacques schnee #Mama Schnee #ask reply #rwby4

[roguepythia]

Fandom Meta: Art, Fandom, and throwing rocks at Artistic Expression

Art is the medium by which we- as human beings- are able to relate to each other. Art allows us to understand things that are more than ourselves, and imagine life through the agency of others. (-Vikas Shah)

One of my very first memories was being on-stage for a performance of Beauty Lou and the Country Beast. I think I was 6. My mom thought I’d have fun with the children's touring company as it came through our small town. I don’t remember much, just me singing away on a fake barrel with my little blue bonnet tied tight around my head. But that one moment changed the course of my life forever. I never left the stage. And now theater is in my blood. It’s not just what I do, it’s who I am.

To me TV shows are like a theatrical performance, only on a flat, rectangular screen. While it serves as a form of artistic expression as well as a mirror to society, to me the artistic expression comes first. I understand not everyone sees it that way. But art doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It needs a creator first and an audience second.

There is a saying in theater. One hundred people walk into a theater to see a show and they walk out with 100 different interpretations and all are valid.  So to me, all interpretations can be valid all at once. Each individual audience member, with their own perceptions, will experience the material differently. So when I see fans attacking other fans over their interpretations, I’m flabbergasted. I don’t get it. It’s so antithetical to what I do everyday that it makes no sense to me. 

I’m not saying that discussions about representation in media shouldn’t happen. Or discussions about what responsibilities artistic expression should have or not have. But from what I’ve seen, those aren’t the discussions that are happening in fandom on Tumblr. Now it seems to be a game of absolutes. There is no wiggle room. No compromise. No valid interpretations but the ones we agree with. It’s become glaringly obvious that Tumblr is ill-equipped to be the venue to have these types of thought-provoking discussions and probe at sometimes unanswerable questions.

Humans have been fighting over artistic expression since we were still in caves throwing rocks at one another for our cave drawings or the tall tales of victory on the battlefield. I shouldn’t be surprised to see the rocks continue to fly here. But one post after another where fan attacks fan, or all of the fandom, for something as simple as which character you like or not, is absurd. 

I once wrote out a very long post in response to a user that had called other fans vile and disgusting over something to do with shipping. I made many counter points, but was ultimately asking if they could tone down the rhetoric. I had hoped for, and dreaded, a response all at the same time. But I thought it needed to be said and I’d hoped that I was polite enough to maybe bridge a gap. I went back a few weeks later to see if they responded and saw that they had deactivated their account. Though some might have, I didn’t feel victorious. This wasn’t a vanquished foe I’d drilled out of the fandom by my acerbic wit and sass. I was disappointed and sad. Another member of fandom had decided they needed to leave. Perhaps they signed back up with a different name. Perhaps my comment had absolutely nothing to do with them leaving. I sincerely doubt it did. At least I hope not! That wasn’t my intention. But left, they did.

On the one hand, I adore the cacophony of fandom activity! The thrill when your favorite character goes up against a foe and wins. Or lamenting the heartbreak over a lost love. I love each and every excited exclamation point! The old interviews that a research obsessed fan digs up for all of us to enjoy. Or the art and fiction! Just all of the art and fic, all of the time. I will never get enough of it!

But then that cacophony turns inward in the worst way and we start ripping each other apart and there isn’t anything I can do about it but sit and wax poetic about my fandom times past. Which, granted, weren’t always as peaceful as I now remember them. Nostalgia makes the memory grow soft around the edges. I threw down with the best of them back in the day. But I didn’t get any enjoyment out of that so I don’t plan to do it again.

But what is happening now is a whole different kind of throw down. 

I rarely post anymore cause of the atmosphere here and then when I do it’s to poke the venue of Tumblr in the eye for its faults. Mostly because I’m frustrated that fandom has become so entangled with SJ that it’s almost impossible to see between them anymore. There is a place for both in society. Fandom as a form of artistic expression, separate from the source material’s own, and social justice all have their place. But they don’t need to all be in the same place at the exact same time.

I look forward to the day they each can find a home more suited to peaceful co-existence. Which, Tumblr is not. 

Whole swaths of fandom genres have collapsed under SJ's constant assault. I requested dark!fic and kink!fic recs in my last post and though I received a handful of lovely comments in PM, nary a rec was to be found. It seems as if that form of artistic expression has been all but driven out of the fandom sphere and it’s not only troubling but disappointing as well. Those voices have been silenced. That art form lost. I take heart in that fandom, like life, is cyclical. I fully believe there will be a day when fandom’s artistic expression will be free from SJ’s stranglehold and thrive again. 

I’m not looking for any kind of fight with this. I’m tired of all the fighting. Maybe by linking to the below article about art and its relation to society, it will be an interesting read for some and thought provoking for others. Maybe it will help someone struggling to find a way to express themselves in our current fandom environment. And just maybe someone will find it so interesting they decide to look into a theater class and become just as enamored with art, as I myself have been since I sang my little heart out as Young Beauty Lou.

(It’s funny, as I was reading though the below article, they mentioned cave dwellers as well as the first form of artistic expression. I guess us theater geeks tend to think alike!)

Art is one of the most valuable assets of human society, yet the truth is that while we may attach art to a time and a place; it’s true provenance and relevance remain intangible. We can look at the raw materials (the paint, the instrument…), the composition (the brush strokes, the music) or even the act of consumption (viewing, listing…) – but the thing that we observe only becomes art within us. The phenomenon of art emerges within the intangible mix of experience and cultural inputs that create our mind. (-Vikas Shah) bolding mine

https://thoughteconomics.com/theatre-performance-and-society/ - Article and Interviews by Vikas Shah

#fandom meta #fandom granda #fandom #art for art sake #artistic expression #theater is in my blood #no doubt about that

[watcher-ofthe-sky]

Found this in the debris of my gallery which I once made just for kicks, and you know what? I won't give you bleach for your eyes.

#gratsu #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #fairy tail #gray x natsu #fairy tail edits #my edits #I dare you to kick me out of the fandom. I'll stay here and I'll keep providing curse content #you all are stuck with me #fuck yes I have the perfect tag for this moment #remember when I said that I am a valuable asset to this fandom? #yeah this is what I meant #my edit

[superpotatesme00]

(Pidgance Fanfic) by AIR

Notes:

Hey everyone I know that this ship in the fandom has few sparse to no content so As i said in my prologue i want to contribute! I hope that you all enjoy what I am writing and if you do please let me know so that I may continue to write!

Read: [Previous] || [Next] || [AO3 Link]

SO HERE IT IS ^^

Becoming Aware

Chapter 1/2:

When Breakfast Leaves a Lump in Your Throat.

Just as quickly as Lance had fallen defeated on the ground, he had scrambled back up. He stood hunched over, obviously resisting the urge to hold his injured self, and pressed his knees together. Pidge stared wide eyed and before she could manage a sound Lance spoke hesitantly.

“…y-you ok?”

The words sounded painful, like it had taken all the strength humanly possible to ask them.

“Uh-y-yes.” Her voiced cracked and Lance could hear just the slightest slip of pitch.

His face was so red that Pidge could practically feel the heat radiating from him. His brain formulated no thoughts other than the essential need to leave as quickly as possible. He closed his mouth and repeatedly looked back and forth from his socks, to her, to the bathroom walls before reaching his resolve.

“I’m…gonna go…now.” was all he could say before retreating, granting Pidge only enough time to nod.

The door slid shut. Pidge stood motionless pressing her back to the door. Her eyes were down cast and the lights of her room formed a shadow covering her face. Her mind was blocked. No rational thoughts came to her except the feeling of utter shock. Her lips were tightly pressed into a grim line and her eyes dared not look up from her feet. She started replaying the same scene over and over again in her head. Then, almost robotically she made her way to her bed where she lifted the covers and (not bothering to remove her sweatshirt) plopped herself in bed. Nothing had happened. Nothing at all.

….

No. That wasn’t true… Something did happen, and that something shoved a realization in her face.

Lance was a dude.

Obviously he was a dude. He was a boy. Something she wasn’t. But, how come that had never really mattered to her before? She, Lance and Hunk had been a team for over a year already back at the Garrison; and although Lance had never noticed she was a girl, Pidge had never really cared that Lance was a boy. Not that gender ever really mattered to her…she had just never really looked at Lance as…well-she had never been conscious of him. And she had surely NEVER seen him as a person of potential attraction.

The ceiling was white and the more she stared the more its color started to shift into a sun kissed tan that reminded her of a certain idiotic flirt she knew all too well. Her cheeks still carried a small blush to them as she pictured him in the swim trunks she had seen several times in the past. It was like a puzzle. She knew what his limbs, torso and face (that she could admittedly call handsome) looked like, but now she could fill in the last missing piec-. The growl of her demanding stomach sucked her out of her perverted day dream and sent a flare of agitation through her.

“Argh! NOW is not the time to be thinking of food!…Screw this, let’s sleep!”

She violently pulled the covers over her face and the lack of movement caused the room to go black.

The sizzling of a pan and the humming of a familiar voice beckoned a morning Lance to breakfast. He came in cloaked in his fancy blue robe and extended his arms into a yawn.

“Morning buddy! Watcha cooking up for us today!”

He slapped a hand on the back of the ship’s personal chief. Hunk had a glimmer in his eye as he tossed the pan about and added his own personal flavor. He flared his nostrils wide to take of whiff of the pan he had raised to his face.

“Food goo au la hunk~” His face formed a huge grin of self-satisfaction.

Lance couldn’t help but widen his smile. Seeing Hunk so jolly in the morning could liven up the mood of anyone, even the not-so-morning people. And although “food goo” never really ever sounded appetizing, the personal zest that Hunk added, almost made the unbearable goop taste gourmet.

Everyone was already seated around the table. While walking up to his usual spot across from Shiro, Lance could hear the red and black paladins discuss with great enthusiasm about their morning practice and just how well each had performed.

“Keith your swings are becoming more precise, pretty soon you’ll have mastered that Galra sword.”

“Ya think so? But man, Shiro, I wish my reflexes were as quick as yours! You could’ve fought those drones blind folded!” Keith had a relaxed smile on his face as he genuinely praised the black paladin.

“Heh I’m not sure about that.” Shiro's eyes squinted in amusement as he chuckled, obviously grateful for the admiration his teammate had for him. Lance took this chance to greet Shiro, or as he internally referred to him, “Space Dad”.

“Good Morning Capitán~!” The words rolled off his tongue like a rhyme as he approached.

Meanwhile, Coran had excitedly burst in through the corridor holding a cassette looking device that supposedly held the “most valuable assets of this castle”. Coran, without pause, quickly began to explain that the old (Altean) cassette was a music player that contained all of his and his grandfather’s favorite Altean songs. Coran’s eyes sparkled and his pupils grew so wide that no one could say anything but just listen intently to the enthusiastic red head.

“I used to dance along to all these symphonies…Ah the memories are bringing a tear to my eye!” Coran dramatically sniffled and looked up to wipe under his eye.

All the while, Coran droned on an on about his childhood, Keith and Shiro exchanged glances and let out silent a sigh of resignation. But, Allura’s brow twitched in annoyance at every word Coran spout.

“We are NOT listening to THAT!”

“But Princess, you used to love these songs!”

“No, Coran, YOU and MY FATHER would just force me to listen to those horrid melodies for hours on end!” Coran withdrew a bit with her comment. She wasn’t exactly wrong… His lips pouted and his face fell in defeat.

“I wouldn’t mind listening Coran.” Shiro forced a smile as he felt Allura’s glare shoot towards him. The spotlight was quickly focused back onto Lance, who was standing behind Allura, as Keith bluntly remarked:

“Dude. Where were you? We were ALL supposed to train together this morning.”

Lance felt his forehead begin to cold sweat as he realized he missed their morning practice. He had completely forgotten and slept through their arranged meeting time. He quickly attempted to recompose himself and change the subject to save his sorry ass from Shiro's disappointment.

“Uh-Well-I! Oh!” The blue paladin’s attention shifted to the seated Allura next to him. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips.

“Good morning My Lady~” His face formed a smolder and he winked at the completely unimpressed princess.

Keith rolled his eyes at the idiotic casanova and Lance gave him a sideways glare. Shiro could sense the potential fight building up between the two and decided to step in. The actions of a TRUE “Space Dad.”

“Hunk went to train for a bit before breakfast but both you and Pidge-“ Shiro’s words were stopped short as a small bed headed paladin wobbled her way into the room. No expression could be seen past the glare of her huge spectacles, and no effort was made on her behalf to greet anyone. The timing was impeccable and the silent eyes of the crew followed the small body as it walked.

A tiny breeze blew the side of Lance’s robe as she passed. Just for a second everything seemed to slow down dramatically. His goofy grin faded as he took in every detail of her: her fluffy hair, her small nose that held the larger than life glasses, her delicate stature, and her long wispy eyelashes that hovered over her (admittedly pretty) eyes. But that didn’t matter. He never had a problem recognizing people’s nice features. Kinda like Hunk or Shiro’s awesome hair. Since day one of meeting Pidge, “his” big golden eyes had caught Lance’s attention. He could feel a small lump form in his throat as he remembered the events of last night.

Unfortunately, the matrix scene ended just as quickly as it had started once Pidge reached her chair. Now seated, Lance’s sense of time fell back to normal. Normal was the complete opposite of the current situation though. It was so painfully quiet and awkward. Pidge was usually one of the first at the table and would be greeting everyone’s morning with a small wave. Allura felt uneasy with the sudden change.

“Hello, Pidge…?” Allura hesitated to speak initially and her words showed a hint of concern.

Pidge was in a trance like state. Her glasses shown no signs of movement behind them and her slightly parted lips stayed still. She hadn’t heard the princess’ words. Allura lifted a quizzical brow and exchanged looks of confusion with Shiro and everyone, minus the blue paladin who remained frozen. So she decided to try once more:

“G-good morning Pidge…”

“Huh? Ah! Whut!” At the sound of the familiar name Pidge snapped back into reality.

She turned head too quickly, causing whiplash, when attempting to face the voice that called her.

“H-hey…everyone…”

“You ok shorty???” Keith couldn’t help but notice Pidge’s peculiar behavior.

Pidge’s eyes widened a bit in surprise and focused on Keith and Shiro, but quickly fell to nod in response.

“You weren’t at practice this morning…Did something happen Katie?” Pidge couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of her name. If he was referring to her as such then Shiro must’ve been pretty concerned. Pidge tried to recollect herself as best she could. If it weren't for everyone’s attention being on her she would’ve smacked cheeks to regain composure.

“Oh um..-“

“Breakfast is served~!!!” Pidge’s stuttering was gladly interrupted by the commotion of the yellow paladin, who had completely missed out on the awkwardness of just now.

Everyone felt a weight lift off their shoulders as Hunk graciously interjected and alleviated the tension in the air. His eyes were gluttonous and and his smile ridiculously wide as he set down each and everyone’s bowls of “food goo au la Hunk”, encouraging them all to dig in. Shiro, although still curious to hear Pidge’s answer, began to eat. As did the rest. No exchange of words was needed for everyone to mutually agree that leaving it alone was probably best. Even Lance had decided that acting normal was his best bet of surviving the growing lump that had formed in his throat. Unfortunately, Lance’s seat was right next to Pidge and he rued the thought of sitting down.

“What’s up dude? Take a seat!” Hunk’s smile was the farthest from confronting to the panicking paladin. He forced a crooked smile at the cook and jerked his way to the seat next to Pidge. All the while, forcing himself to look straight ahead and avoid any eye contact. His movements were rigid and as he pulled out the chair to sit, it screeched against the ground painstakingly slow. He wasn’t doing a very good job at acting “normal”, so obviously, Keith, Allura, Shiro and even Coran were unable to keep from staring at the lanky teenager. Meanwhile, Hunk had happily eaten his first bowl of goo!

Just act cool. Yeah, that’s it! Be chill. Be chill…

His thoughts bounced off the walls in his head as his quietly touched his butt to the chair. He quickly scanned the room to make sure that no one noticed his continuous swallowing, clammy hands or the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead. Luckily, Hunk was a bit dense and hadn’t noticed anything just yet. This gave enough time for Lance to ponder the happenings of last night and most importantly the motionless Pidge that sat to the left of him.

Or not.

“Oh yeah Lance! Were you able to make it to your room last night?”

“Huh?” Lance failed to understand what Hunk was talking about.

“Yeah dude! Don’t you remember?? It was movie night and you REALLY wanted to watch Dawn of the Apes, but got all broody cuz’ Pidge here said she didn’t want to go. Apparently, she was working on some new specs to upgrade on Green and needed all night to work on ‘em! You were pretty bummed out, but, we only ended up making it halfway through the movie before you were out cold. I tried to wake you up ’n all but you kept shooing me away...You looked peaceful so I figured you were fine just there with the blanket and all.”

Lance’s memory cleared and he remember how he had found himself in the bathroom last night. Hunk continued, cheeks stuffed with food.

“But…when I came to wake you up this morning you were gone.”

The image of a flustered Pidge watching him pee popped in his head.

“Oh-Um-I did drink all those sodas last night so they wound up making me use the bathroom-“ Lance was cut off my the sudden clatter of a bowl and the scraping of a spoon.

Everyone watched in awe as Pidge inhaled her food so quickly that you wouldn’t have been able to finish saying “quizznak.” Once done she rubbed off the crumbs with her sleeve, shot up, said thank you, and left with her bowl. She moved so quickly that everyone had a hard time keeping up, but managed to see her leave through the corridor. Coran turned to face the remaining paladins and Allura:

“I guess she was hungry?”

Keith couldn't help but protest, “Wait. So you guys have movie nights and DON’T invite me!”

Usually, Lance would've retorted Keith with a witty comeback, but the only thing he could think of now was how stupid he was for having walked around the castle half asleep. If it weren't for his sleep walking habits he would’ve never wandered around or even left door open, like he did back home. It was just such a hassle to close them ya know? But, that was besides the point. Last night he thought he WAS at home and he really did think his mom had been there nagging him to clean his room.

Pidge saw me. She saw EVERYTHING! And by everything I mean the whole motherfuckin’ shebang!

He was mentally punching him self, but quickly drifted to another aspect that had engraved itself into his memory.

Her legs. I always knew Pidge was a small dude. I even thought “he” was scrawny. But I’ve never seen her in anything less than long shorts and baggy shirts. I never knew her legs were so small, and SO thin. They’re different than guy’s legs…more round? No. More soft. Yeah that’s it!

When Pidge had slipped and fell he was worried she might’ve hurt herself. But, her tiny shorts had caught his attention. She was left sprawled on the ground, her legs bent and her shorts almost rode high enough to show her butt. Her eyes were so open with surprise that no glasses kept Lance from noticing just how big and golden they were.

And that big sweatshirt…Does she always wear it? She looked so cu-!

His fantasy was cut short by Shiro’s eyes burrowing into his head.

“Lance, did something happen between you two last night?”

“(*Chokes, coughing up food*) N-nn-NO! Pshh! Why would you think THAT?! HA HA…”  

Lance attempted to play it cool, regardless of the questioning eyes around him. But, the incestuous lump in his throat kept him from swallowing his breakfast.

****

Let me know if you like this and stay tuned for Chapter 2/3! :D

Read: [Previous] || [Next] || [AO3 Link]

#plance #fllirtyrobot #pidgance #pidge x lance fanfic #voltron fanfic #AIR #voltron

[watcher-ofthe-sky]

So... @oceanwaves-blog and I were left unguarded again and this happened:

I saw a prompt list and we were making up headcanons for Jellal and Erik;

Which led to this:

Please ignore the horrible horrible quality of the art. XD

//I am going to swiftly ignore all the exams lurking in the background and consume my time here instead. //

#jerik #jellal x erik #jellal fernandes #erik fairy tail #ultear milkovich #crime sorciere #remember when i said that i am a valuable asset to the fandom? #yeah this is what I meant #hey we think we are funny #at least in our heads #fairy tail

[watcher-ofthe-sky]

Taking headcanons to the next level.

Jellal with a braid.

No, I do not take constructive criticism, thanks.

#remember when i said that i am a valuable asset to the fandom? #Yeah this is what I meant #Jellal Fernandes #braid jellal #fairy tail art #my art #fairy tail

[watcher-ofthe-sky]

Okay so except Meredy and Ultear, no one from Crime Sorciere actually knows what Zeref looks like, right? I was playing around with ideas and then this happened: 

Jellal: This guild is for punishment (no double meaning)

Jellal: We will wipe out all the darkness and evil.

Jellal: Then we will wipe out Zeref

Erik: *raises hand*

Jellal: Yes, Erik? 

Erik: So what does this baddie look like?

Jellal: Time for questions is over.

 ***

I mean, think about it:

*Crime sorciere casually going through the woods*

Zeref: *Passes by the group*

Zeref: *mumbling to himself* All the madness of the world

Jellal: *walking and mumbling*  All the sadness of the world

Zeref and Jellal *together*: Makes me wanna dieeeee. 

*looks at each other*   Have we met?

#remember when I said that I am a valuable asset to the fandom? #Jellal Fernandes #Zeref Dragneel #crime sorciere #fairy tail #crack headcanons #my headcanons #I'm sorry you cannot kick me out the fandom @ocean will fight you

[watcher-ofthe-sky]

Look, Zeref has been alive for so long and all the people keep on talking about his revival, like: yeah, no. Oops, sorry, can’t hear you. You’re dead.

Imagine Zeref knowing about all these “revival” ideas and schemes. 

So @oceanwaves-blog​ (yup, I dragged her into this too) suggested: 

August : Emperor, they're doing it again

Zeref : What do you mean?

August : This time they want to built a tower to revive you.

Zeref: ...What the hell is wrong with these people?

Me:

Zeref: You know what, spread a rumour that to revive Zeref, one needs to dance naked around a pentagram as the last part of the ritual.

August: Free style?

Zeref: Salsa.

#remember when I said that I am a valuable asset to the fandom? #Zeref Dragneel #august dragneel #fairy tail #crack headcanons #crack posts #my headcanons #You cannot throw me out of the fandom sorry can't hear you #This is funny okay #at least inside our heads