#sole survivor is absolute maniac
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Combat Zone
#sole survivor is absolute maniac#they just storm to den full of raiders#without any second thought#and somehow manages to take them all down#fallout 4#fallout#fo4#combat zone#virtual photography#my screenshots#mine
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the crazy ass boys and that punisher scene *would* be kooky crazy and you absolutely should do it - the FLAVOR…
A/N: do i feel bad for reader? yeah, of course... but lowkey this shit kinda funny. TW: the kevin and josh parts of this feature attempted sexual assault of reader. if you get the urge to community label this block me and don't read it instead xoxo.
crazy ass boys gang + reader kills someone based on that one punisher scene
billy loomis:
He deserves it. The hands wrapped tightly around his throat, his mind going foggy from the lack of oxygen. Head pounding in pain from the several blows he’d taken to it. His vision swims as he stares up at the monster he himself had created: Ghostface.
One thing he’d never considered about making it so he and Stu were the sole survivors of the Woodsboro massacre was what tantalizing targets they’d become for any Ghostface copycats. He curses himself for it now. It was ridiculous to think that infamy like theirs wouldn’t inspire other bloodthirsty maniacs.
To be murdered in his own home, the way so many of his own victims met their fate, is particularly insulting.
‘What an ironic way to go,’ Billy thinks as he starts to black out.
And that should be it. There shouldn’t be anything after the blackness. But suddenly he’s taking large, greedy gulps of air again and rolls to the side heaving. He finds himself face to face with the Ghostface copycat who sports a new accessory: a kitchen knife in the side of their neck.
Senses coming back to him, he slowly begins to hear the miserable animal-like whimpering of another person in the room and rolls onto his back. Standing over him and his cheap knockoff is his partner, Y/N, blood splattered across their trembling hands.
“Did I kill them? Are they dead?” Before you’ve even finished the sentence Billy is shaking his head no.
“No, baby, no you didn’t kill them. It’s okay.” The words hurt to get out but he forces them anyway. He has to reassure you that you aren’t like him. That you aren’t a killer.
Believe it or not, he never wanted this for you. You aren’t like him or Stu. You aren’t built for this. But here you are, blood on your hands because it came down to Billy or a stranger and you’ll always choose Billy, no matter what the choice costs you.
Billy forces himself to move when he notices the way the rise and fall of the Ghostface’s chest slow to the jerking heaves of the dying.
He yanks the knife from their neck and they make a gurgling, wet noise of pain. It’s the sound people make while they drown in their own blood. Billy is more than used to it, and barely registers it. But as quiet as the room is, the noise is deafening for you, and you turn to retch.
“You didn’t kill anyone baby, I promise.” Billy slits their throat so quickly it’s done before you even turn back around. “I killed them, okay?”
josh washington:
Josh’s hearing these days is inhuman, which is only fair since Josh himself isn’t quite human these days.
Also inhuman is his bond with you. He’s in tune with you, to put it lightly. His abnormally cold body forever seeks out the heat of your own. He relishes in your calming scent. He listens eagerly for the sound of your breathing, your heartbeat, your voice.
That’s why, even with the music at this party turned up to deafening volumes, he registers the sound of your scream as if you were standing side by side.
The noise awakens something animalistic in him. His mouth, already half split into a permanent, razor-toothed snarl, pulls back even further. He looks monstrous. He pushes and shoves violently through the crowd of mindlessly gyrating bodies in a panic.
‘Where are you, Y/N?!’ He thinks, sick to his stomach.
Even through the heavy smells of sweat, alcohol, and weed, he’s able to follow your scent outside. Here he’s in his element. The air is clear and damp, and it’s easy to track you. You’re in the woods just beyond the house, still screaming, when he finds you.
Immediately he gathers you in his arms, snarling and growling into the open air at any potential threats.
“I killed him. I killed him, Josh.” You shriek, voice high and sharp with panic.
He nuzzles his cheek against yours comfortingly. It takes him a second to remember he’s human and can speak. That’s when he smells the blood. His pupils dilate at the sweet, metallic scent and he searches for the source, eyes seeing perfectly even in the darkness of the night.
His eyes land on a man laying haphazardly on the ground, head bent at an odd angle on a rock. Blood oozes sluggishly over the stone and Josh’s heart stops at the sight.
“I was just trying to get some air and this guy followed me out here and he wouldn’t leave me alone, so I ran, but he followed me. He followed me! And he tried to…” You sob on the words that won’t come and Josh knows instantly what happened. His mind paints the rest of the horrible picture. “... all I was doing was trying to get him off me. That’s all I was trying to do! I didn’t mean to kill him, Josh. Oh god, I didn’t mean to kill him.”
You’re not a killer. Josh isn’t one either… but if he has to choose which one of you will have to bear the weight of taking a life he knows he won’t let it be you.
He crosses over to the man, who looks up at Josh with unseeing eyes. There’s only one thing to do. Josh bends down low and braces himself for the way your attacker's blood will taste when he rips out their throat with his teeth.
stu macher:
text from babygirl/babyboy: [ stu there is someone in the house pls hurry im scared ]
He glanced down at the pocket of his jeans ready to roll his eyes when he heard your text notification.
You were probably texting him because you’d checked the kitchen and realized you needed some spice or vegetable ‘desperately’ to be able to make dinner tonight. He almost felt like ignoring it and telling you he hadn’t seen the text until he pulled into the driveway of your home.
But begrudgingly he paused, shifted the grocery bags around in his arms, and pulled out his phone.
His heart stopped.
Instantly, he knew you were serious. He might fuck with you like this but you’d never do the same to him. He dropped the groceries on the ground and ran to the car.
He doesn’t text you to ask if you’re okay. He’s terrified of the answer he could get. More terrified of getting no answer at all, so he just drives. He focuses on the thought of you at home, needing him, and breaks every speeding law there is to get to you.
He parks down the street so as to not tip off the intruder. He grabs the hunting knife he always keeps in his car even though Billy tells him not to and stalks like an animal toward the home you’ve built together. The rage he feels is indescribable. Someone is in his house terrorizing what’s his.
He creeps in through the wide open back door of the house. He pauses and listens for a sound over the pounding of the blood in his ear.
Nothing. For one soul crushing moment there’s nothing at all.
Then he hears the sound of you crying from upstairs and it makes his heart stop. He runs up the stairs as quietly as he can and throws himself into the bedroom ready to do anything to save you.
But you’ve already saved yourself, it seems.
You’ve curled yourself up in the corner closest to the door, watching as the man who attacked you bleeds out from the stab wounds you put in his stomach.
Stu stops moving and watches as the man tries to stop himself from bleeding out, his own cries blending with yours. You were smart enough to keep the knife and you hold it towards the man, shaking with adrenaline and fear.
“Baby-” Stu’s voice breaks the spell you’re in and you turn to him and begin to cry in earnest. You were holding yourself together, waiting on him to save you and he came too late.
“He’s dying Stu, I killed him. Oh god, I killed someone.” Blood from the knife you’re holding drips onto the hardwood floor of your bedroom.
“No, baby, you didn’t kill him.” Stu already failed you tonight. He’s not going to let you become a killer because someone broke into your house and you had to survive.
He crosses the room, kneels in front of the burglar, and stabs them twice in the neck. The warm blood hits his face and he doesn’t even relish in it. Just waits for the light in the burglar’s eyes to dim. When it does he turns back to you.
“I killed them, honey.”
jd/jason dean:
The sound of a gunshot rings through the basement loud and clear.
JD freezes, mind racing as he thinks of what to do next. It’s not every day that you’re caught planting bombs in the building where the Dean’s office happens to be. This was his last stop.
All the other bombs have already been carefully placed throughout campus. Even if he’s caught now, the detonator is only just out of reach. If he can reach it, the plan will still be a success. The only minor hiccup would be dying beneath a couple thousand piles of rubble. But that’s a small thing. It’d be worth it. For you, JD would do anything.
This university had taken everything from you. He’d watched it happen. Had sat by, rage simmering just beneath the surface as he tried to let you handle your own problems. You’d insisted he’d let you handle the situation. You’d let yourself get walked all over, is what happened. But JD doesn’t blame you for how everything turned out.
You’re too gentle. Too sweet. You don’t have that animal instinct to fight or go to war. It was one of the reasons you endeared yourself to JD so quickly. You were intensely vulnerable in a world so resolutely cruel that you were breathtaking just by existing. To watch you come to harm of any kind was painful. But it all ended today. Even if it killed him.
“Oh no, oh please no.” Your voice makes JD turn in bewilderment.
“What on Earth are you doing here-” JD’s eyes go wide at the scene before him.
There’s a security guard on the ground, unconscious, a pool of blood seeping from them. He can see the entry wound on their back. He wonders if the bullet is lodged in them or if it went straight through.
“I didn’t want to kill him. I was just- I was coming to stop you from doing this but I didn’t… I saw the guard coming up behind you with a gun, and… and his finger was on the trigger. He was gonna kill you. He was gonna-”
JD steps gracefully around the puddle of blood the guard is making and takes you into his arms. You fall into them with a wet sob.
He feels his heart go warm, the way it always does when he holds you. You came here to stop him from protecting you and wound up protecting him in turn. Whether you like it or not, the two of you are soulmates. You’ll always come first to one another. Damn the rest of the world entirely.
But JD knows you’re too tender for this. Knows that killing will break your spirit, not free you the way it freed him.
He gently pries the gun from your fingers (and almost laughs at the thought of you trying to confront him with his own gun), turns, and shoots the guard execution-style in the back of his head.
“You didn’t kill anyone, darling. You don’t have it in you.” He pulls you back into his arms. “But don’t worry about that, you’ll never have to when I’m around.”
kevin khatchadourian:
Kevin told you the guy was bad news. But generally, Kevin was an untrustworthy judge of character because he hated everyone, especially anyone who pulled any of your precious attention away from him. So, you decided to tutor the other man despite Kevin’s insistence you do no such thing.
You should have listened to Kevin.
Of course, your classmate didn’t actually need tutoring. He was just trying to get close to you. He said as much as he pinned you against your couch, rough hand sliding up up up your leg, to the juncture of your thighs. It quickly became clear that your classmate didn’t care whether or not you wanted to become close to him as well.
You’d shoved him away from you as hard as you could once he started trying to remove your clothes. It was a good shove. He’d landed right on the corner of the coffee table. There’d been a sickening crunch as the back of his head hit the wood. Then there was nothing. And now he was making a low, animal noise from what seemed like the very pit of his stomach. He must’ve been in agony.
You didn’t move a muscle. You were probably in shock. You just sat, holding your ripped shirt to your chest. All the while knowing that if you didn’t do something soon, this man that had tried to force himself on you would die.
Kevin walked in through the front door of your apartment. You heard him take off his shoes. Throw his keys onto the table in your entryway. Heard him begin to shuffle his way toward the scene of the soon-to-be crime.
“Y/N?” He’s suddenly kneeling in front of you, blocking the view of your attacker, who still keeps on with that miserable whining.
“Kevin?” Numbly, you reach for him, place your hands on his shoulders and grip them tightly. You try to pull him towards you but he holds himself away, staring at you.
“What happened?”
You glance a little to the side and can see the other man still sprawled across the ground. “I should have listened to you.”
Kevin’s thumb gently drags along your freshly busted lip, smearing blood along the length of your mouth, “What happened?”
His voice is so unusually tender that the haze of confusion and fear breaks and you sob. You try again to pull him towards you and this time he comes willingly, enveloping you in his arms. For someone so distant, who adopts and discards emotions and feelings as easily as a mask, Kevin’s embraces are always tight and all-consuming.
You stay like that for only a few minutes. When Kevin pulls back, he wipes away your tears with your own ripped shirt. You stare at one another. You never know what he’s thinking, now being no exception, but for once you let yourself get lost in the inky blackness of his eyes and feel comforted, not unnerved.
“Go take a bath.” The command comes out of nowhere.
“What? Kevin I-” A slightly louder moan than the rest cuts you off and the look on Kevin’s face fades from whatever was there when he was looking at you to his typical viciousness.
“I’m going to put him out of his misery. He’s already dying. There’s no use calling an ambulance, and I wouldn’t let you anyway. So you’re going to let me do what I need to do, and you’re going to go take a bath while I do it. Then you’ll go to bed, and when you wake up, it will all be over. Understand?”
He doesn’t give you the option to disobey. He helps you to your feet, guides you to the bathroom, and even starts the bath for you. Then he goes back into the living room to kill a man as if it means nothing to him.
You sit in the bath with your knees to your chest, and listen to the sounds of running water instead of focusing on the fact that the man has finally gone quiet.
#crazy ass boys gang#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#jd x reader#josh washington x reader#kevin khatchadourian x reader#heathers imagine#scream imagine#until dawn imagine#we need to talk about kevin imagine#ran out of steam to do nathan sparrow ben and david#maybe one day#if you see any typos respectfully no you didn't lmao#ENJOY y'all been waiting for this one
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Hey!! Anon cause I'm shy, but I'm a big fan of your writing! Ive left some guest kudos on your fics and am always waiting patiently for the next update! I was wondering if you had any recommendations for fics since you seem like the type to have good taste... I'd love to read more stuff that reminds me of your work!
Hey! Thank you! I definitely do have some recommendations I’d like to share. These are in no particular order.
Ryou-centric (and/or tendershipping)
Corruption by firetrap
After seeing the pharaoh off to the underworld, Ryou comes home to find that his own spirit hadn’t left like he thought.
The Last Puzzle by tenderwulf
11 years after the Ceremonial Duel, Atem and Bakura inexplicably find themselves back in Domino. When they meet their previous hosts, they realize how much things have changed: Yuugi, the now world-renowned King of Games, is going through a marriage crisis, Ryou is struggling to balance studies, work, and his brittle mental health, and Malik... well, Malik is living his best life—and his own yami is nowhere to be seen.
They soon realize they all have to work together in order to solve the mystery of the yamis' return: some to make sure that they stay, and some to make sure that they don't.
Haunted by Ehtar
Ever since receiving a strange artifact from his father, Ryou Bakura’s life has changed. He gains the friends he’s always wanted, and the bullies are disappearing. At night, though, he dreams of the life of a thief in ancient Egypt. A young boy who was the sole survivor of his village’s slaughter, who must turn to thievery and worse in order to survive on his own.
Ryou knows that something is wrong when his friends begin to fall to the same malady as the bullies, that something is wrong with him. It’s not until he makes some new friends in Domino City, including a boy who has an artifact similar to his own, that he realizes he harbors the soul of that thief within himself – that he’s been possessed for years by the spirit of a killer.
He should rid himself of the evil spirit, save himself and those around him. The only trouble is, now he doesn’t know where one of their souls begins and the other ends. After so long, he’s not even sure he would reject the spirit if he could. After all, no one knows him so well as the spirit that haunts him.
Cornered by YadonushiRyou
Life is different for Private Investigator Ryou after a too close encounter with a maniacal killer. Ryou has to deal with physical and mental scars, navigating through life only to find that he can’t forget Bakura as easily as he would have liked. His partner Malik tries to help him along the way, but things between them are much different than they used to be, causing tension in their close relationship. Meanwhile, time is running out when it seems the killer on the loose has already chosen his next victim.
An Unwhole Half by SheIsHoldingACat
The problem with being one half of a whole is that the other half has to agree. The problem comes when the other half wants it all to itself.
Or:,
Ryou wishes he had the bond with his spirit that Yugi has. He wishes it was possible.
Philosophy of a Knife by crushedmary
Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Ryou learns this the hard way when he becomes the vessel for Zorc's power.
A canon rewrite where Bakura wins.
Other Yugioh
Gratitude by Resuri
Amir is an assassin. His job is easy. Someone give him a target, he kills them, and he gets paid for it. Not to mention he is really good at it. However, never could he had imagined his job would have him to be acknowledged by the most beautiful and horrific creature he ever saw.
But, hey, Ryou just wants to thank him for the meals!
Our Scars remind Us that the Past was Real by Sesshy380
Imagine waking up, and everyone is trying to convince you that the things you 'remember’ never happened, and that those 'memories’ exist only in YOUR head. The Thief King doesn’t have to imagine…because that’s exactly what happened.
-or-
The Thief King get’s a second chance at life.
Martyrs by SheIsHoldingACat
the history of the shadow games extends three-thousand years, to Ancient Egypt...
~
A rewrite of the events of Memory World, with emphasis on moral greyness, political intrigue, and the premise that Thief King Bakura was entirely justified
These are a few of the fics I really like. Thank you for your ask!
@resuri-art @worldendercharles @tenderwulf @crush3dmary @sesshy380 @millenniumringg
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random but I found out the other day that Scooter is a part of the Make a Wish Foundation (maybe on the board? because he attended a board meeting in Nashville, and helped a fan whose wish was to meet Tim McGraw. or he's a benefactor generally, not sure), and add to that his advocating for the hostages and the victims/survivors of the Nova festival (he's been promoting the exhibit in NYC, I think he may have helped facilitate getting it there from Israel), AND that he and a Palestinian friend worked together to set up a whole charity that is raising money for impacted families in Gaza AND impacted families in Israel, and it's just crazy to me how the internet so EASILY turned him into a maniacal villain because of a business deal Taylor didn't like. think about the amount of power she wields to do that, because she got every fanbase of artists he represented to hate him too, even without basis. and they celebrated when he stepped back, except now those artists are all kind of floundering, it's obvious he did guide some of the success. idk he's shown so much humanity in a way few people, especially in the music industry, have. and Taylor does a "sexy" chair dance to an immature song dragging this man to tens of thousands of people on her massive tour. people swear she's the wronged party and he's evil, but who decided that? she did. who fed that narrative? she did. and everyone believed that so she got the instant upper hand. yet he does more to actively help people who are really in need of it. interesting.
taylor dragged a jewish man and encouraged millions of people to do the same for one of the most common practices in the industry. artists rarely own their original masters and usually end up re-recording it. yet she acted like it’s never been done before and invented solely to get at her because she’s so powerful and special. and even still, she drags him because she doesn’t like him for a normal business practice while doing absolutely nothing to help anyone on either side of the conflict, and he’s out here doing more than 90% of celebs with their red hand pins. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the only jew taylor wants around is a useful jew.
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Okay but I love it so much when video games give an in-universe reason/evidence/realtstic reaction for the main character being OP
This is about fallout 4 and disco Elysium and undertale
I absolutely love it when the companions comment on you being a maniac that runs around murdering bad guys all day like you're on crack and being ridiculously overpowered. Especially if you're on easy mode. Just imagine You're in a post apocalyptic world and this guy that's been in a vault for 300 years shows up and starts solving everybody's problems and he takes bullets like they're nothing and stimpacks and rad away work immediately for him with no side effects ever and he's not even nauseous and also he doesn't need to eat he just eats radioactive garbage when he's out of stimpacks because it makes him feel better
And also Kim kitsuragi telling you that you run a lot for like no reason and that you solve crimes at lightning speed and you're also on crack
Love it. I eat that shit up.
On another note, my sole survivor has a hero complex and is referred to as "the tank of the Commonwealth" and also does his damnedest to make for that every single settlement has a bunch of beds and food and water and entertainment and decorations because socialism but he also has a trophy room where he keeps a bunch of trinkets and unique weapons and random old world garbage. And also perfectly preserved things from the old world.
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tell us of the blorbos 3 plz :) who are they, what are they from, what do they do, do they have pets, friends, favorite colors???
OKAY OMG OKAY SO
[INHALES]
Sorry this is going to be a loooooong post
The story starts with Dr. Elliot Sparrow, a neuroscientist and physician who joins a crew of astronauts on a mission to a wormhole located just outside of Mars' orbit. Robotic probes have reported troves of alien lifeforms inside, and their job is to discover and interact with them.
While on a routine yet solo EVA, Elliot becomes the sole survivor of his crew when a mysterious and terrifying ship crashes into his own, disabling the life support systems of the ship and leaving the rest of his crew to suffocate in the unpressurized space. His suit is the only thing protecting him - but it does him no good as the crumbling ship is boarded by hostile aliens, and he is quickly captured and taken prisoner.
A bit of a mishap occurs whilst being transferred to the prison, though - in an attempt to intimidate and "soften up" Elliot, one of the alien guards beats him into an almost-pulp - only for Elliot to lash back out at the last second, grabbing the guard's forehead with his hands and squeezing.
It's then when a mass of blood-red tendrils that resemble wicked lightning bolts (or. you know. veins) gush out of Elliot's hands and seep into the guard's head, causing him to scream and release Elliot. Dazed, the other guards do absolutely jackall for about five seconds as this guard screams "they're all around me - help me!" before knocking Elliot clean out and dropping him unceremoniously into a pit full of other alien prisoners.
Upon waking, he is quickly taken in by a lifeform who eagerly introduces himself as "B-34A8919." Elliot, a bit of a wiseass (and possibly concussed), tells him "that's not a name," and elects to call him "Beau" instead. Beau happily agrees, and shows him about the whole place. "This is where the good toilets are" "This is where the mess hall is" "This is Bob. Bob doesn't like anyone. Stay away from Bob" etc etc. Elliot is like "well that's cool and all but how about we escape from here" and Beau is like "NOOOOO OMG WE CAN'T DO TH okay fine what's your plan" and Elliot's like "okay. I cause a distraction with, I dunno, Bob and the whole prison starts rioting. We escape then" and Beau's like "okay cool that sounds cool wait has that hole in the wall always been there or is that just m-" and the prison immediately erupts in a clamor about the newly formed tunnel in the wall, and the Guards immediately swarm the place but whammo Beau and Elliot are already through the tunnel.
As it turns out, the whole prison is under attack by some kind of resistance force that is warring against the hostile forces that captured both Beau and Elliot. So they're kind of blowing holes in the whole godtdamn prison and making quite a ruckus. Meanwhile, our heroes find themselves scavenging amongst Collections looking for some clothes and some kind of ship to escape with. That is where Elliot comes across his stupid ranger coat and dystopian Chanel boots and Beau finds himself a Frodo Baggins Cosplay and a magic sword. Together they escape on a derelict space garbage can of a ship and blammo they're out of there.
They jump to hyperspace or whatever Star Wars bullshit terms are and dodge the fuck outta harm's way when they realize "wtf who put this bird in here" and Beau starts swinging his sword at it like a maniac and the bird is like "DUDE CHILL THE F OUT I'M A BIRD" and Elliot's like "but what if you're a spy" and she's like "well if I was a spy could I do this" and she turns into a lady and Elliot and Beau are like "okay that's cool but yeah I think a spy would do that actually" and she's like "fair point well seeya I guess" and jumps out the airlock into space and.... no, no, I dunno, I'm still workshopping that interaction. We'll pass that one on to the committee.
So they take in bird lady. Who's a crow lady on technicality. Her name is Bryony and her backstory is a bit weird, so I'm not going to get into it right now, but yeah. She's also a victim of the evil alien forces. But anyways... they proceed to have wacky space adventures and adopt a giant sparkledog named Lacey that Elliot uses as an Emotional Support Animal because oh my god I completely forgot a really big plot point about his powers. Holy shit. Let me explain that one.
So Elliot confesses to the others that he has suffered from long-term psychosis (yay projection) and things have recently gotten worse for him. But then he remarks that "those things that the guard that restrained me felt - I felt them too, while in an episode once" and he posits that by going through the wormhole, he has gained Special Powers(TM) based on his psychosis that allow him to make others experience what he's experiencing in a psychotic episode.
Beau is immediately like "WHOA THAT SOUNDS COOL DO ME DO ME" and Elliot's like "I'm not going to do you" and Beau is like "Wait what" and Elliot's like "Wait what" and Bryony's like "oh my fucking god" and yeah. Yeah
Anyways. Wacky space adventures. They take down the evil alien hostile forces that Beau happens to come from HOLY SHIT I FORGOT ANOTHER IMPORTANT PLOT POINT so. Beau's family is in charge of the evil alien forces that have been ruining everything across the universe. To quote my exasperated fiance (to whom I've been reading this all out loud to), "They're Christopher Columbus-ing the universe." Yeah.
Yeah
Anyways
I should. Probably write this down in a google doc or something. Keep my notes in order. Anyways
Enjoy... reading. That.
OH YEAH AND BEAU CHANGES COLORS DEPENDING ON HIS EMOTIONS. He's like a godtdamned mood ring.
And Scene
#...tada#that was. really horribly written#I STOPPED TAKING ADHD MEDS CAN YOU TELL#anyways#oh god it's 7 already. oh god#okay whatever. enjoy#beaulliot#space story
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Hardship (Yuta Okkotsu x Reader)
Yuta Okkotsu X Reader
Warning: Violence, Blood, and Broken bones
Word Count: 1,500+
Genre: Angst!
I will probably write how she acted in the sister event in the future, but for now, please enjoy this writing piece. I am still struggling with writer's block, but manage to write this out before it hits me again. Idk if it's good or not.
Inspired by @aliteama Angst anon asks back in January
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡
‘Am I going to die?’ Yuuji thought to himself as he couldn’t move within the female cursed spirit, Rika's grasp.
The fear of losing his life and dying was overwhelming him once again just like the cursed womb mission. He doesn’t want to die!
The black-haired male emotionless face, was walking closer to stab him in Sukuna’s vessel heart. He was abruptly stopped and jumped away from the spot in front of the Sukuna’s vessel. A katana landing in the exact spot he was standing.
“Kou!”
Yuuji’s eyes widened in surprise hearing his senpai and the one who he started developing feelings for before he felt himself being free and the sight of you slam your elbow into Yuta’s stomach to cause him to fly back from the acceleration and pressure of the attack.
Yuuji being carried by 8 feet, cursed spirit that is attached to you similar to Yuta with Rika, but it was your father who created a deal with it in exchange for his soul and cursed energy to stay beside you as a servant. He didn’t have to but he did it for your sake of surviving many assassination attempts.
“...Kou?” Yuuji looks up in surprise to see Kou in the flesh, you rarely use the spirit unless you are absolutely serious about fighting. He only has heard things about how Kou looks like and always gave out a deadly aura of bloodthirst.
Kou drops him without a word causing Yuuji to shout in surprise, landing on the ground and quickly went to his feet in a fighting stance. The overwhelming bloodthirst in the air make it hard to breathe. The two cursed spirits fighting each other, breaking each other's limbs to only have them grow back. It was quite terrifying to witness both screaming and fighting.
Yuuji smacked his face to snap him out of it to focus on what to do now. He pulls himself back seeing Yuta taking another attempt to kill him by cutting his head off with a new cursed katana he got his hands on.
He most likely used the same one that landed on the spot where he was standing, you would usually travel with two katanas strapped on your back. You know how to use two at the same time as well with a single katana in hand. You were a master of swordsmanship. You are the sole survivor of a clan who was the best when it comes to handling cursed objects to cursed weapons.
“It wasn't Yuuji! It was Sukuna!” You try to reason with Yuta blocking his attacks from harming Yuuji.
“Run away! Yuuji!” You fall to the ground and try to sweep Yuta off his feet but he flips backward.
“I am not leaving you! He wants me! You shouldn’t sacrifice yourself for me.” Yuuji shouts back at you.
“Stay out of it! [Y/N]! Don’t make me physically hurt you! ” Yuta crashing into your katana instead of Yuuji skin.
You know Yuuji is stubborn and isn’t gonna step out of this fight. You gotta work with him to take down Yuta, despite dating each other, but you aren’t gonna let him kill Yuuji without a fight. You care about him just like everyone else who is friends with him. Yuta doesn’t have the same relationship with Yuuji as everyone who learns he isn’t evil but has a good heart. He just got tangled into this mess by eating a finger.
Yuta dodges Yuuji's punches knowing if he even lets Yuuji touch, he might just break a bone in his body. He looks over to see Rika struggling to escape to assist him in finishing the mission. Kou has the advantage due to being older and having more fighting experience than Rika, perhaps even bigger than Rika.
Yuta is trying to keep up on blocking all of the attacks you are giving him by even attempting to break your own katana blade. You were the one who taught him how to katana effectively because you have been a katana user since you were a child. He could say if Maki and you were to have katana fights. It would mostly be tied, but you are probably superior due to knowing all the dirty tricks on disarming katana users.
The only advantage is knowing the tricks you would pull during his training with you to beware when someone is trying to break your katana to disarm. If he didn’t take the time to memorize it, he would be losing this fight.
Yuta elbows Yuuji's face and uses the end of the katana to slam it into Yuuji’s stomach to cause Yuuji to cough and be surprised. Before copying from earlier what Yuuji did to his katana to break your katana, for you only let it go and jump at him without any fear. You tackled him to the ground, pin one arm down by your knee and hold his arm with the katana.
“Take the katana! Yuuji!” You clenched your teeth, fighting against Yuta's strength as he repeatedly slammed his feet on the ground to wiggle out of your grasp. Yuuji pries the katana out of Yuta hands.
“Sorry, but this is gonna hurt a lot!” With all of your strength twisted his arm back, Yuta manages to free his other hand to make you let go. You could see the tears gather in his eyes before hearing a pop from his shoulder. Successfully dislocating his arm, causing him to scream in intense pain.
“Yuta!” Rika screeched, throwing Kou into the building, before appearing behind you to only stab you with her claws on your back and picking you by it causing you to gasp in surprise and blood. Before getting thrown across the road, having Kou following after you know you are injured and needed to be healed.
Rika reacted quickly due to Yuta screaming that he was in pain. She didn’t think anything else was to hurt the person who did and get them away from him. However, she didn’t realize it was you, the only person who wasn’t even afraid to talk to her and was Yuta's girlfriend before they went overseas for more intense training.
You are smiling at Rika with a clay mask on your face while holding nail polish in your hand as you push the brush of the nail polish to paint her claws. You weren’t afraid of cursed spirits due to growing up with numerous scary-looking spirits being around the compound. You did the insane idea to befriend Rika while everyone cowered away in the sight of her.
She remembers, the first time meeting everyone, you were the insane one to call her cute and even asked Yuta for permission if hugging Rika was okay.
“What’s your name? You look so cute” You cooed despite everyone around you looking like you were a maniac approaching a cursed spirit with no guard up.
When you were painting her nails, you mention to her, she wasn't evil as everyone is saying, but she is a good cursed spirit.
“You aren't an evil curse spirit, but a good one who protects Yuta from any danger. You are like his guardian angel just like Kou is mine.” You gave her a soft stare with a big smile on your face.
Yuta hissed through the pain and stood up to pick up the katana that was on the ground. Rika was panicking that she had just gone to hold Yuuji. “Hold him, this won’t take too long.”
Yuuji panicked once again feeling trapped within Rika's grasp and watching Yuta stab him into the heart without any remorse, despite apologizing for it. “Sorry, Yuuji.”
Rika vanishes from sight, probably hiding away for a while as she acknowledges what she has done to the only human other than Yuta who treated her like a person. Yuta lets go of the sword to hold onto his other arm while running over and hissing at the pain on his shoulder. He knows you were trying to make him not be able to use his dominant hand to make him back down. He doesn’t hold any grudge because you are doing what you thought was right.
He had a mission to accomplish and had to keep any personal feelings to the side. But he needed to know if you were okay. His eyes landed on your tearful ones as Kou was giving him a dangerous glare daring him to come closer and get killed.
“You killed him… didn’t you.” Your lip was trembling as your eyes were tearing up and breathing heavily as Kou was closing your internal wounds.
“I am sorry.” Yuta apologized to only hear your hiccups through your cries and cursing him out from moon to back.
“He was innocent! Yuta! Fucking innocent! Since when did you become a murderer!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, before feeling your eyes heavy due to the fatigue of getting your wounds healed. You passed out while Yuta has tears down his cheeks not knowing what to say.
He did become a murderer….
Perhaps killing an innocent person in the process.
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡
Thank you for reading!
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MASTERLIST!
#yuta okkotsu x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuta x reader#yuta x you#yuta x y/n#yuuta x reader#yuuta x you#yuuta x y/n#okkotsu x reader#okkotsu yuta x reader#okkotsu yuta x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen
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The Protector
[Author’s note: the next chapter of “She Said the Word” may be slow in coming between Thanksgiving (even though it’s just the two of us, we’re still doing a big old Thanksvegan feast, despite my terribly mixed feelings about the holiday), and the fact that the next chapter will be heavy on combat, which is exhausting and time consuming to write! But I thought I’d share this rough little diddy from a project I may or may not finish and publish (not until after “She Said the Word” is done, for spoilers sake). Someone said something about Tol’ket’s perspective on things once and it got me thinking....so here’s a little bit of just that!]
When the war ended and the call went out to rebuild the ranks of the Mandalorian Protectors, it had been an absolute no brainer for Edean Tol'ket (but, please, for all that is holy in the galaxy, don't call him Edean, he would say). He'd been a soldier, fighting on the side of the royal House Kryze. His entire family, all but his shabuir father, loyalists, had been wiped out in the war, leaving him the sole survivor. And his ba’buir, the man that had lovingly raised him and his five siblings, had been a Protector himself, protecting the young Duchess' grandfather during his time ruling Mandalore. Tol'ket could see no better way to not only honor the memory of the man that had made him, but to also show his loyalty to Mandalore.
The role came naturally to him. His ba'buir had told he and his siblings many stories of valiantly fighting to protect the great Duke Kryze, and with all the stories had come the one lesson, the only lesson one needed to be a Protector- everything else comes second to your Mand'alor and the royal family.
So, Tol'ket had thrown himself at the job with that lesson at the forefront of his mind.
Over time, Tol'ket and the Duchess' jetii became close. Tol'ket recognized a noble warrior when he saw one- though Obi-Wan would deny wholeheartedly that he was a warrior (a lie from the pits of all seven hells if there ever was one)- and the man was good company both off and on the sparring mats. When he asked Tol'ket to head the Protectors two years after the end of the civil war, he had been humbled by the honor, and had taken the role as Captain of the Royal House Guard and Protectors with the kind of solemnity it deserved.
To be fair, the role of Protector had proven to be far easier for Tol'ket than it had been for his ba'buir. They were living in a time of unprecedented peace on Mandalore and throughout the Mandalorian system. Not having to chase a monarch around while they stomped down clan uprisings and petty skirmishes made the job damn near a walk in the park.
Even still, Tol'ket made sure the Protectors were as fierce and capable as they had been before the war. He would not be caught flat footed when the time came that the royal family was under serious threat. And the time would come. They were Mandalorian, after all.
And it wasn't as if no threats existed whatsoever. There were still remnants of Death Watch, occasionally stirring up trouble and being a nuisance, but nothing that local authorities couldn't usually manage.
Then there was Obi-Wan's panicked preparations for the vague threat of a darjetii, a Sith, after that trip to Naboo that had resulted in the adoption of a young half feral boy from Tatooine. Obi-Wan had sworn he wasn't panicking, and, maybe, to the outside observer, he wasn't. But Tol'ket knew this strange, magical man who was calm to a fault, and coming home and drilling his captain about all the things Mandalorians had developed to fight Jedi in the Mando-Jedi War was most definitely Obi-Wan's version of panic.
Still, he'd humored the man, and his Protectors developed new skills. They became lethal with their beskads, learned to be deadly accurate even with the touchy, complicated slugthrowers they began to carry, and learned ways to defend their minds against Force wielding maniacs. If nothing else, honing their new skills was a good way to pass the time in a fairly uneventful career path.
Things...changed the day the beskar clad woman from Death Watch made herself known by scrambling a transmission six ways to Life Day and blinking to life as a holo, in front of Tol'ket in his office.
The bottom of Tol'ket's stomach dropped out when he recognized the mark of Death Watch- a mark his own hutuun of a father had worn during the war. They had been growing more insistent of late, little bombings becoming bigger ones, and small disruptions were becoming more chaotic. Tol'ket knew they meant to cause a slow erosion of faith in the government. Death Watch wasn't capable of actually attacking, starting yet another war, but they could undermine the government.
"Fucking Death Watch?" he greeted, ever the ambassador of goodwill and cheer.
"That's polite," she deadpanned. "I need to talk to Kenobi."
Like hell you do, he thought to himself. "You're insane. I'm not letting you talk to him." This woman, hiding behind beskar and standing there as if she had infinitely more important things to do, clearly must have been certifiable.
The woman shifted and crossed her arms at her chest. The action spoke volumes. "Then I'll keep calling until you do. I have information for him." He was sure she glared at him menacingly through the visor of her helmet.
He glared menacingly back, a thousand words on the tip of his tongue on just what he thought of her and her kind. "Tell me, then. I'll pass it on," he said, instead of his venom filled thoughts.
She scoffed. "Fuck you. Kenobi, now."
In the end she had won. He let her talk to him.
They had continued to trade barbs and insults even after he had fetched Obi-Wan. She was obnoxious, petty, crass, and infuriating. But, to be fair (if Tol'ket were to give one single karking damn about fairness when it came to Death Watch), he wasn't much better behaved, only shutting up when Obi-Wan, the man of infinite cool and patience, had actually raised his voice to silence them both.
Tol'ket settled into a brooding silence as she pulled off her helmet and introduced herself as Bo-Katan, the long thought dead sister of the Duchess. Most had assumed she was killed shortly after the Jedi had taken the Duchess into their protection during the war. Clearly, she wasn't dead, after all.
And, according to the traitorous insane, primal male part of his brain, she was a knockout.
He stomped that notion down hard. She was a traitor, an enemy to the throne. One could be gorgeous and also a kriffing treasonous bitch. Dazzling green eyes, a dusting of freckles, and the casual way she flipped her fire red hair away from her face weren't enough to keep Tol'ket from wanting to blast her in the face if she ever stepped foot on Mandalore.
And then the damn woman had the audacity to go and warn them- Death Watch wanted to kill the children, and she was going to help ensure that they didn't.
Osik.
#fanfic#star wars#obitine#alternate universe#She Said the Word#Bo-Katan Kryze#Star Wars OC#Mandalorian OC#obi wan kenobi#satine kryze
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The Mettle Of A Man; Part Six
Fandom: Fallout (4)
Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor
Rating: Holy shit M.
AN: Enjoy!
Part One: ArcJet
Part Two: The Prydwen
Part Three: Orders
Part Four: Finding Brandis
Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland
“General!”
The unfamiliar voice roused Danse from his staring match with the coffee pot and he lunged to his feet, Righteous Authority at the ready.
“At ease, Paladin. It's one of my friends.” Backhand soothed him, waving at the young man striding through the tatos towards them. “Preston! What brings you to this corner of the wilderness?”
Preston was on the taller side, well-built and wearing a strange combination of period clothing that Danse quickly identified as a higher-ranking Minuteman’s uniform. A scar hugged the brown skin on his left cheek, its path similar to Maxson's (though not as deep). His eyes, while kind, were haunted even in the bright light of morning.
“We got the radio set back up in The Castle, and then we tuned into a repeating distress signal from a weird short-range frequency. Figured it was worth checking out.” The Minuteman touched the large brim of his odd hat while speaking to Backhand, almost like he was deferring to her. "You might have sent a message warning us that a Brotherhood research contingent was on their way. I'm not sayin' we would have left the queen untouched , but...well, you know how much folks around here like their seafood."
Preston Garvey ( head lieutenant of the Commonwealth Minutemen ) didn't appear to have a malicious bone in his body, his handshake for Danse firm when Backhand introduced him. Danse found himself pinned by those intense brown eyes, the paladin squirming inwardly while the dark-skinned man studied him.
“You Brotherhood boys are bad news for the Commonwealth, but we can't exactly afford to be picky,” Preston stated bluntly with a disarming smile. “So, welcome aboard!”
Danse felt his face go hot at the insinuation, opening his mouth to say... something , he wasn't sure what, but Preston was already refocusing on Knight Vega. Or should he say General Vega? This was the second time someone had referred to her as ‘General’.
Danse wasn't used to being so simply dismissed. He was, after all, a paladin . An overgrown specimen of a man in or out of his armor, with a carefully-crafted demeanor of stern authority. Preston didn't seem particularly rude though, mostly just exhausted. He had propped himself up with his laser musket as Backhand explained their mission of the day. Mainly, reacquire Danse's armor and mop up any remaining threats in Weston.
Danse realized he had no control in this operation as he was sans-armor and he almost laughed aloud at the role reversal in the field. Playing the damsel was definitely a novel sensation for the hulking paladin and he said as much, prompting Backhand into a fit of giggles.
“Pretty sure I was the damsel at first, this guy has a hell of a throwing arm!” She informed Preston, thumbing the reinforced strapping of her combat armor. “Tossed me like I was a skipping rock!”
“You threw the General?!” Preston sputtered.
“It was a reflex .” Danse stressed the word, flustered.
“Yeah but you threw a whole human being? ” The Minuteman asked incredulously. “I mean, damn, what do they feed you guys?”
“To be fair, the power armor enhances-”
“Oh yeah, and he can move his armor even when the core's blown.” Backhand tacked on like she was a proud parent. Preston looked at Danse a little sideways, as though he suspected Knight Vega was talking him up.
But the Minuteman simply shrugged after a moment, adjusting his hat. “So what's the plan, General? I'm going to assume it's his armor that was pinging the distress signal.”
Danse's breath hitched as it dawned on him that yes , that was exactly what was happening. The severe damage would have activated the emergency beacon, just like with Brandis’ team. And if some haphazard, ramshackle radio at Fort Independence could pick it up…
If it's been going off since last night ...
Their beacons carried their call tags. The Prydwen would have known it was his armor specifically. They had vertibirds to spare, despite Maxon's posturing when they had departed. Surely there had to be some logical reason as to why no one from the Brotherhood had come to investigate the signal. Danse couldn't think of anything at the moment, but surely …
…
The armor was exactly where it had been yesterday, a protective shell resting on a leg and three-quarters. Seeing the damage up close was sobering for Backhand, and judging from Danse's stony expression he was in the same boat.
“At least it was super mutants. If it had been raiders or, God forbid, gunners …” Preston trailed off, touching the brim of his hat. His hand shook a little.
“I know, trust me. We would have been in for a really terrible time.” Backhand muttered.
Danse, who had been essentially silent, abruptly began speaking. “Back in the Capital Wasteland, I once took an Enclave bullet to the leg. Hit a rust patch just right. Penetrated my armor and shredded my calf. I learned then that our equipment is not infallible by any stretch of the imagination.” Danse's fists were tight at his sides. “It's... distressing when a soldier jettisons his gear in combat, but I'll be fine.”
"You think you can get it working again?"
Danse scoffed at Preston's query, a grin quirking his lips as he tugged a fresh core out of one of his utility pouches. "Give me an hour. I'm no proctor, but I know a thing or two about my own armor."
The paladin muscled his armor onto its back, looking for all the world like he was slowly grappling with the empty suit. Backhand fought the urge to snort, shifting her attention back to Preston instead. "So how's Independence coming, hot shot?" She jibed, making him give her a tentative, self-conscious smile.
"Really well, I'd say. Crops are planted, we have 'round the clock radio coverage and old Minutemen are showing up to get their transponders re-tuned for our new frequency!" Preston replied excitedly. "We gotta' get yours fixed up too, General."
"You're still accepting the deserters?" Backhand wasn't exactly surprised , but it was a little strange to see how enthused Preston was about welcoming old Minutemen back into the fold.
"W-Well, new recruits are coming in too! We needed more trainers and-" Preston hurried to justify himself and Backhand jostled his shoulder.
" Relax , tight lace, I'm only teasing. It's any port in a storm. No matter what you've done, you know I'm proud of you." She said softly. Preston's cheeks darkened further with a ruddy flush, the young man coughing and tugging bashfully at the brim of his hat.
"That's...real kind of you to say, General." He muttered after a second.
"I try to only speak the truth with my friends." Backhand gestured vaguely towards the paladin who was straightening out the plating on the torso of his armor. "Sometimes they're a little... hardheaded , but I know it'll get through to them eventually." Her statement was pointed enough that Preston raised an eyebrow. "He's a decent man. Something is fucked up between him and their leader, Maxson. I'm not quite sure what ." She continued in an undertone.
"Careful about how deep you're digging the hole, General." Preston warned. "Brotherhood's got a fanaticism that's borderline religious."
"Garvey, I was in the original . If there's one thing I'm familiar with, it's military maniacs."
"Fair enough I suppose." Preston fanned himself with his hat, idly watching Danse beat his armor back into shape. "He's good looking, I'll give him that. Penchant for a type, General Vega?" He teased with a smile.
"I can neither confirm nor deny!" Backhand laughed, "you're nosier than a pre-war tabloid journalist, Garvey. Planning on taking up with Piper?"
"If it helps spread the word about the Minutemen, absolutely!"
The two of them lapsed into a companionable silence for several minutes. Danse abruptly glanced up, the lack of conversation seeming to penetrate his single-minded focus. "Am I being too loud?" He asked awkwardly. "I can try to be quieter."
"Nah, keep doing what you were doing." Garvey gave him a wave that was almost lazy. "I'm just taking in the scenery."
…
The plan that Knight Vega proposed was ludicrously simple.
She had found a metal bucket in one of the trailers beside the water treatment plant. She would put her Pip Boy into it, turn on the radio and set the volume to max. Hopefully the racket would lure any remaining mutants out of the facility, wherein the all too eager trio would fall upon them with gusto.
Preston was game for it as well, already cranking up the power in his laser musket as Backhand settled the bucket on its side by the front doors.
The usual vein of music issued from the Pip Boy, echoing a little in the bucket. Blaring brass overpowered any of the more delicate parts of the tune and Backhand laughed, playfully extending a hand to Preston. "Dance with me, LT? I'm sure we've got a few minutes."
To Danse's utter dismay, the Minuteman did just that. Surely, this was some breach of protocol? The young man referred to her as his superior officer! Regardless of how lax their standards were, this couldn't possibly be proper. This…
This was the most precious thing he had ever seen.
Danse would be eternally grateful for the rigorous self control that enabled him to school his face into a neutral expression. Preston wasn't a half-bad dancer but Backhand was terrible , just downright uncoordinated.
The two of them were laughing like they had forgotten the issue at hand and for one blissful second, Danse found himself strangely at peace. Just watching both individuals fumble through some semblance of a dance he would never know, grinning and poking fun, entirely unconcerned about the world around them.
Danse was used to being watched. Scrutinized. Held to a higher standard than anyone else around him due to rank or simple expectation. Knight Vega...he should say something. Tell her to shape up. This behavior was unacceptable . Maxson could have her stripped of her probationary knight rank for this. Maxson could…
Maxson .
The paladin gritted his teeth.
Elder Maxson could do a lot of things. The intensity of the depression that followed the thought startled even Danse. It was like a wet blanket wrapping itself around his entire body. Maxson could do a lot of things. He could have ended this before it even started. He could have mounted the assault when Brandis' team vanished. He could have-
The doors to the complex swung wide open, four super mutants sprinting out. Danse's heart leaped into his throat.
Backhand and Preston-!
His body moved without thought, the armored paladin placing himself between the threat and the two who were now scrambling to prepare themselves. Danse cracked his knuckles in his gauntlets, bullets whipping through the air by his head. Three of the mutants were only armed with boards and sledgehammers, but the largest one carried a rifle of some kind.
A musket shot boomed from behind the paladin, pulping the head of one of the mutants. Danse surmised coldly that it must have been Preston's kill. Danse wasn't unarmed, but the enemy also wasn't inclined to give him the time to sling his laser rifle back around, and so it was with his armored fists that he rushed the trigger-happy mutant.
…
"Gotcha'!" Backhand's shotgun sounded off, the loud report muffled by the way she had rammed the barrel into the mutant's chest. Beside her, Preston kept winding up his musket to power his next shot. That first shot had been just what the doctor ordered, quickly putting the odds more in their favor.
There was a loud, angry grunt and Backhand looked up to see a super mutant go sailing past her and slam through the side of one of the trailers. Preston gaped at the sight, ceasing to crank his musket momentarily.
A roar of " abomination! " echoed through the courtyard, the sheer volume of it enough to give Backhand pause. The paladin had gotten too close to the mutant with the gun for the creature to continue to use it effectively and Danse pressed his advantage. Backhand watched slightly dumbfounded while the large man went toe to toe with the massive mutant.
The mutant yammered at Danse, nonsensical rambling about cracking him open and the paladin repaid those threats with his metal-plated fists. "Should we…?" Preston queried. Apparently neither of them needed to worry as Danse proceeded to shoulder check the mutant, forcing it backwards through the doors into the building.
"It's probably therapeutic for him. He really, really hates muties." Backhand couldn't help but still feel slightly concerned and she sighed. "C'mon, let's make sure he's not getting devoured."
…
Danse manhandled the beast through two walls until he found one sturdy enough for him to pin the mutant against. It squirmed and struggled against the iron grip he had on its throat, choking out more insane nonsense. "This is for Cutler, you freak ." Danse's voice cracked as he drew his fist back.
"You okay in here, Paladin?" Backhand's voice distracted him momentarily and the paladin paused. " Danse? "
His fist crushed the mutant's skull, sending bone and brain flying. Danse released the now-dead mutant, shaking his gauntlet and hissing at the pain. Inadvertently punching a wall was assuredly not his finest moment. "Yes, Knight Vega?" He called.
She carefully picked her way over the two piles of rubble that had previously been walls, her shotgun ready. Behind her came Preston, sweeping corners in a practiced manner. "Just making sure nothing happened. You know we're supposed to be sticking together." Her tone was playfully chiding, even though her eyes betrayed a startling level of concern.
"Figured I should grab the opportunity by the throat." Danse answered after a moment of silent contemplation.
To his credit, Preston did attempt to keep his laughter under control. Vega grinned at her snickering lieutenant, patting his shoulder and then squinting at Danse. "You better watch it, Paladin. I'll have you written up for bullheaded heroics or something."
"A fate worse than death." Danse replied dryly. "Though I'm afraid your report would fall on deaf ears."
"Too true. You would probably be promoted to...double paladin, or whatever the next rank is for you."
"Knight sergeant."
"What?! But paladin sounds way cooler!" Backhand protested indignantly while Preston started laughing all over again. "The whole point of moving up in the chain of command is to get a better name! Even I know that." She teased.
Danse felt like he was back on the Prydwen attempting to educate a mess hall full of squires. "Well, I could be promoted to star paladin. But that's very unlikely." He explained. "They are exceptionally rare, akin to sentinels."
" Star paladin?" Backhand looked like she was about to burst with curiosity.
"Yes. They are paladins who have been specially recognized for their dedication or ferocity in battle."
"Uh General, not to cut this short, but-" Preston began hurriedly, rechecking the levels on his undoubtedly finicky musket.
"Right, yeah, job to do."
Danse finally swung his rifle around, doing a quick run-through of all the switches before he turned on the tact-light, beautifully illuminating the dust his demolition-style entry had stirred up.
He proceeded deeper into the facility, purposely taking point despite his unarmored head. Preston flanked him on the left while Backhand walked drag, their footsteps all but silent in the wake of the larger man's sabatons. "Remain vigilant." Danse cautioned.
"D'you think there's anything else in here?" Preston whispered, "I feel like they would have come for us."
"I've actually been in here before, last time the basement was flooded and there were mirelurks," Backhand muttered. "I was doing a favor for those 'bots at Graygarden."
"No rest for the wicked when it comes to you, eh General?" Preston quipped.
"Listen, I feel like making friends with the agriculturally-inclined robots is definitely a good strategy." She reasoned. "After all, they can work around the clock and everything!"
Danse hushed the two of them, leading with the barrel of his rifle. The tact-light flickered as he continued their sweep, ears open for any signs of hostiles.
...
Backhand tapped at the compass of her Pip Boy, scrolling the compass display a full three hundred and sixty degrees. Her scroll jerked to a halt when two red ticks appeared, ahead and to the right.
"Bogey at two o'clock." She whispered. Danse nodded grimly and Preston flipped the crank over to prime his musket.
Now Backhand could actually hear sounds, an odd snuffling and scraping noise. A hound, maybe?
Danse clearly heard it as well, the man advancing into the next room and sweeping the corners with his rail-mounted flashlight.
Something skittered by just outside the light, vanishing into a gap in the crumbling wall. Danse wordlessly stormed forward and with one brutal motion he rammed his gauntlet through the plaster and heaved out--
A child?
The paladin froze, one large metal hand wrapped around the leg of the waif he had just forcibly extracted. The little boy screamed and flailed in Danse's hold, tiny fists beating a tattoo on the gauntlet that suspended him upside down in midair. He was filthy , clad in a dingy pair of overalls. He had a cut over his right eye, possibly from Danse's speedy removal.
For the barest, heartbreaking second, Backhand thought that it was Shaun. But no, no, she was imagining things.
"Whoa, easy there." She breathed, trying to get her heart to stop hammering. Danse still hadn't moved. "Hey, hey hey, look at me." She caught one of the child's arms, easily dodging the bite he aimed at her hand. " Easy big fella', we aren't going to hurt you." Backhand soothed, "you're okay. Were you hiding from the muties?"
"Big d-d-dog tried t-to eat m-m-me." The little boy hiccupped, changing his tune instantly and clinging to her arm as Danse carefully, carefully set him down. "H-Hid in the wall. M-My mama, she told me not t-to wander off, b-b-but it got dark and I g-got lost." he sobbed, rubbing his eyes.
Backhand reached into her satchel and pulled out Sergeant Cathan's 'lucky' bandanna. With gentle precision she wrapped it around the little boy's hand, knotting it at his wrist. "I need you to do me a favor, okay?" She asked seriously. "I need you to hold onto this bandanna for me. It's lucky, but only if you're holding it super tight. Can you make sure we stay lucky?"
The child frowned after a moment, sniffling and then gripping down on the bandanna. Backhand heaved a mental sigh of relief, thankful that the distraction tactic had worked. Sometimes she couldn't get her target to buy into the grift; it was always a gamble. Sergeant Cathan had taught her (long ago and far away now) the benefits of implication, suggestion and placebo effects on survivors. She had carried the 'lucky' bandanna since her honorable discharge, it being one of the few possessions she had refused to relinquish even while being sealed in cryogenic stasis. It made her feel a little warm inside to be able to use it's so-called powers for good once more.
" It doesn't have to be real. It doesn't have to be lucky, or important, or special in any way ." The sergeant had informed her when he explained the trick of distraction. " All it needs is belief, Backhand. That's it. If you can get them to believe in it, the hard part is already over ."
"Okay kiddo, how about we bring you back outside?" Preston cajoled gently with a smile. "You want something to eat?" The little boy nodded furiously, his eyes wide in the glow of Danse's rail-light. "Alright, take my hand. You're gonna' be just fine."
A loud howl echoed down the hallway and Danse jerked to attention, his rifle snapping upwards. "Go, get out!" He demanded Preston, "pick up the child and go! Knight Vega, on my six, now! " He barked.
Backhand thanked God that Preston was the type to help first and ask questions later, the young man easily scooping the little boy up in his arms and ducking out in the direction of the foyer. Danse shone his light back down the hallway, illuminating a hound so old its green skin had gone gunmetal gray. It sampled the air and bayed hoarsely, milky eyes staring ahead. It was ancient, obviously blind, possibly deaf-
Danse pulled his trigger once, and then a second time for good measure. Backhand noticed that his hands were shaking as he straightened up. He strode forward to the end of the hall, shoving the dog's body aside without so much as looking at it.
Backhand looked down at her compass, scrolling it this way and that. But it was empty, no signatures reading on it whatsoever. "Paladin, I think that's it." She said, holding her arm up so he could see her use the compass.
Danse nodded in an absent manner, still looking down the hall and running his light over the walls around him.
"We should get back outside. Make sure Preston and that kiddo are okay." Backhand suggested gently.
"I could have killed that child."
Ah . Backhand understood why his hands were trembling now. She let him carry on with his double-check, giving him the time he needed to decide whether he would say more.
"I...I could have…" Backhand heard him swallow, the noise loud in the silence. " Christ , Vega. I'm not setting a very good example for you, am I. We were almost killed by a behemoth due to my own inattention, I had to jettison my power armor, my helmet is unsalvageable , and I very nearly slaughtered a lost child."
"It's been a hell of a shakedown campaign." Backhand agreed, pushing the glasses up on her nose. "Imagine the trouble we could get into if we keep sticking together."
Danse's laughter was a grim bark of a noise, the paladin nodding his head ruefully. "Just imagine. If I keep up my trajectory, the Commonwealth will be in flames by tomorrow morning."
Backhand placed a wary hand on his gauntlet, fingers grazing the worn red-orange paint that denoted his rank. " Or it'll be a better place." She reasoned, patting his arm and turning on her heel. "Now, c'mon. We've got a little one to return to his parents." She urged, waving the paladin on.
Preston had made it safely outside, the man still cradling the child as Backhand emerged from the double doors onto the front steps of the establishment. He raised his brows in question.
"There was an old hound, probably too old to hunt anymore. Blind." Backhand explained, sliding her satchel around and digging through it until her fingers brushed the plastic-wrapped snack. "Ah, here we go. You must be hungry, right slugger?" She asked the little boy, extracting the snack cake from her bag and waving it to catch his attention. "How about you munch on this until we get back to Oberland, and then my friend Preston will see about finding your parents. That sound good to you?"
The boy nodded, still sniffling but eagerly accepting the pre-war confection.
"You still got that bandanna? I know you must have held onto it real tight, because that hound didn't even know we were there!" Backhand praised with a grin, thrilled when the child gave her a weak smile in return.
Danse emerged from the building, towering over the trio in his armor. "It seems that beast was the last holdout." He said finally, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "Have you checked the child for injuries?"
The cut over the little boy's eye had already stopped bleeding, and aside from a few minor scrapes and bruises he appeared to be fine. Obviously his largest issues were being lost and hungry. Preston continued to hold the child while Backhand cleaned the dried blood off his forehead, well aware of the eyes trained on her. "There. You'll be just fine." She assured the boy, barely resisting the urge to kiss the bandage and instead kissing her fingertips to press against the bandage. After all, she wasn't this kid's mom.
"A-Are you the Minutemen?" The little boy asked after a moment of hesitation. "My papa said you guys help people."
"We are! Good guess." Preston praised, adjusting his hold on the kid so he could tip his hat. " There at a minute's notice , or that's the idea anyway."
"Let's move out. The sooner we get to Oberland, the sooner you can broadcast your APB on him." Vega adjusted her satchel and began carefully picking her way back through the flooded area, boots sloshing in the water. "What's your name, wall boy?"
"Matt." The child replied through a mouthful of cake. "Mat'ew Amadeus O'Brian."
Backhand blinked, a little stunned at the elaborate name that the kid had rattled off. "Well, Matthew Amadeus O'Brian , my name is Elizabeth Backhand Vega, and the nice man being your legs right now is Preston Garvey." She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating the silent paladin who was bringing up the rear of their little party. "The big one is Paladin Danse."
"He's big," Matt repeated, watching the paladin narrowly before tacking on, "An' scary ."
"He's not really scary, but it's easy to think that." Backhand could almost feel Danse growing more and more tense. "He's sorry for surprising you earlier, I promise!"
Matt's eyes stayed suspiciously squinted at the paladin, the little boy continuing to inhale the snack cake. "Are you sure? " He asked in a stage whisper. "'Cuz he looks angry. Like how my papa looks when he says I'm bein' too os'servant ."
Preston snickered at that. "You must be real observant then, if your folks are scolding you for it."
Matt puffed out his chest a bit, stating proudly that, "My mama says I've got good eyes and nothin' between them. Then, she laughs."
Danse made a choking noise, the large man obviously attempting to stifle his mirth. "Your mother sounds immensely charitable." He remarked, a faint smile playing across his mouth.
The little boy looked befuddled for a moment, pursing his lips. "I 'unno what that means, but I love my mama. So that better not be somethin' nasty." Clearly, the child had recovered some of his original pep, no doubt aided by the copious amounts of sugar in that snack cake. "Otherwise I'll kick your butt."
"Whoa now, language." Preston chided gently.
"He started it!" Matthew protested, "callin' my mama some...carrot, carrotible ."
" Charitable . It means good, kind. Even when you don't have to be." Backhand laughed as she explained, watching the realization dawn on the kid.
"Oh. Okay then. That's fine." The child allowed, "as long as it's nothin' bad."
...
Danse wiped the sweat from his brow, hammering the last nail into place. There . With the metal scrap and lumber they had salvaged from the area surrounding the station, Danse actually managed to cobble together a half perimeter fence that was a bit more fortified than the old chain link lining the once-uniform garden. It wasn't anything incredible , but it wouldn't fall over at the next stiff breeze.
Upon their arrival, Knight Vega had sat Matt down by the old pump out front of the station and carefully scrubbed the rest of the child's face clean. The boy somehow managed to keep up a constant stream of chatter even as he was being scoured to within an inch of his life. Danse knew he ought to find it irritating, as his entire military career he had been taught that squires should be seen and not heard, but instead he found it oddly endearing.
Preston had eventually managed to raise the Castle (or rather, Fort Independence), the Minuteman relaying the information that they had acquired a precocious young man by the name of Matthew Amadeus O'Brian.
Preston and Backhand had kept busy in the aforementioned garden for most of the day, tearing up weeds and tilling the soil. The two had an easy rapport, going back and forth on a variety of topics. Matt occasionally chimed in around a mouthful of almost gone-by tato, the child more than eager to assist in the stripping and demolishing of the plants.
Danse had half-listened to their chatter while he engaged wholeheartedly in building the defenses up as best as he could, wanting desperately to make himself useful even as he soaked up the conversation. Agriculture had never been his strong suit. Coming from the Capital Wasteland, he was incredibly leery of any produce borne of the radiation-rich soil. He certainly didn't eat any of it without properly preparing it. This led to less adventurous but also less dangerous meals, the vegetables usually gray and tasteless from their time in the pot of his mess kit.
Danse took a step back to admire his handiwork. It had been too long since he was able to actually devote the time to a task that it required, instead of just smashing resources together and hoping they held. He knew it was technically a fence made out of the refuse of the area, nothing to be proud of, but he relished the opportunity to craft something useful.
He heard a low whistle from behind him and realized that Preston was looking up at the fortifications, a massive grin on his face. "Damn, we could have used you at the Castle!" The Minuteman commented, clapping a hand on Danse's shoulder. "You got the place squared away in half the time, color me impressed."
"Being able to find or create a defensible position is a necessary skill for field ops. You never know when you may need to bivouac in less than hospitable territory." Danse knew he must sound unbearably stiff, and he grimaced inwardly at his casual usage of the word bivouac . That had been something from Cutler's verbiage. "This wall should function optimally, but it can always be improved upon."
"I appreciate it. The Minutemen thank you for your assistance." Preston said warmly, his hand squeezing Danse's shoulder gently before he turned back towards the garden. "General, we should probably break for dinner! I know you two will be leavin' early tomorrow, wouldn't want you to be overtired." He called to Backhand, who tossed him a thumbs-up.
Danse opened his mouth, hesitated, and then carefully stated, "if we stay another day, I may be able to erect something for the lower side of the hill. It won't be as tall as this, but as it's the lower hillside, inhabitants will have a better chance of spotting the enemy and preparing."
Preston's eyebrows shot up. "You'd do that for us? I'd be incredibly grateful, I'll be honest. We're spread so thin, I'm probably only going to have one armed individual to assign to this outpost. Whatever help you can give-"
"Only one?" Danse looked at the copious tilled soil, his brow furrowed in thought. "You may have too many resources here for you to defend them with just one gun and a wall of scrap, Lieutenant Garvey."
"At the moment, the only resource is the water pump. I'm hopin' by the time the crops pop, we'll be a little fatter in our ranks. If not, well, I'm always up for extra field duty." Preston drew a finger along the brim of his large hat, sighing. "Nobody said it would be easy, y'know?"
Danse nodded. He knew overwell the disproportionate work load that a commander must shoulder in exchange for the safety and stability of their regiment.
After a hearty supper of some of the remaining tatos (safely over-stewed to within an inch of their lives), canned beans and fresh-last-week bread that Preston had brought with him, Danse took up his post along the defenses he had built. His armor creaked a little louder than normal, but he supposed that was to be expected after the beating it had taken.
Backhand had been quiet during their dinner. He assumed she was simply tired. He could hardly blame her; it had been a very eventful few days.
Danse bit his lip. He knew he ought to be rushing back to the Prydwen, but he felt an odd sense of responsibility for this new development. After all , he reasoned, what better way to win hearts and minds for the Brotherhood? Showing that they were benevolent, willing to work with existing factions regardless of their differences…
Well, at least Danse was at any rate. And with a little luck, his obviously-high rank would convince the battered survivors of post-apocalyptic New England that the whole of the Brotherhood was here to help.
Possibly in spite of Maxson's lofty aspirations for wiping out the Institute. What good was it to remove the proverbial boogeyman of the Commonwealth if the Brotherhood's resources were stripped from the campaign? The more prudent option would be to gain the trust of the locals, and then press them for support should the need arise.
That was all he was doing. Gaining the trust of the locals.
He glanced up at the light that wavered in the window of the towering station. He could imagine Knight Vega tucking the little boy in, maybe pressing a kiss to his forehead…
Danse's heart ached. She had lost her son, he recalled, though she hadn't said how . He couldn't even begin to imagine the agony of losing a child. Losing Cutler was devastating enough.
When Vega came out to relieve him at two hundred hours, Danse noted that she still looked worn. Her eyes were puffy, like she had been crying. "Tell me about what happened to your son, Knight." He requested quietly.
"That's...it's kind of a long story, Paladin." She tried to brush him off, fiddling with her combat armor straps. "You should sleep."
"That's an order, Knight."
Vega hiccupped, her sob rattling Danse's composure. "The Institute. They...they ripped him right out of my arms in the Vault." She whispered. "The stasis was put on hold, somehow , and they just...they took him. The next thing I knew, I was waking up alone." She stared at the ground. "I know it was the Institute. I know there's a way in. But I don't know...God, Danse, what if he's dead? " She asked helplessly.
Even though he hadn’t known, Danse still felt like a bastard for making her relive that horror. She had been so sure before, so certain that her child was alive. But now for whatever reason, she was entertaining the alternative and Danse was lost . What the hell could he even say?
"You didn't let me give up on Paladin Brandis." He pointed out. "So I'm not letting you give up on your son."
"Is that an order, sir?"
"A promise , Knight, not an order." Danse saluted her sharply, his gauntlet clattering on his breastplate. "As a Brotherhood of Steel paladin, I swear to you that I will do all I can to help uncover the truth of what happened to your son. And for as long as feasibly possible, we will operate under the assumption that he is alive and well. If we give in to despair, then they've already won."
Backhand looked up at him, her expression distraught. Danse didn't expect her to wrap her arms around his armor, the woman barely able to reach past his sides due to the bulky frame. She tucked her face against the handles on his breastplate and Danse was terrified of making the wrong move. So he stayed still, one massive gauntlet eventually moving forward to cautiously rest on her back.
"We will find him." He assured her softly. "I promise."
Part Seven
#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#paladin danse imagine#fallout fandom#fo4 companions imagine#preston garvey#we stan a helpful paladin
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👫 [ for hanzo and bucket mans if you dm! ]
Send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship || @umtplex || accepting
👫 I’d personally like to think that for both, being vulnerable with their emotions is never weakness; it is vulnerability, and it is strength of a formidable, ferocious warrior. They serve as an anchor for their humility and humanity, a catalyst to become softer and wiser, while still being more than capable to render their foes to become sanguine carnage. To feel unbearable pain, so much pain that their bodies need to release it, and to be able to keep on going after... That is strength not a weakness. They both share the commonality of being the last survivor of their respective massacres; Hanzo Hasashi was the sole survivor - technically he also died and resurrected thereafter, but regardless - of the original Shirai Ryu massacre by Quan Chi (in the form of Bi-Han) and Lin Kuei, and Valtr was once one of the foreign constables that chased a beast all the way to Yharnam. The constables then became victims of the beast, and the only survivor was Valtr. Their losses are what fuels their determination and passion, and makes them feral, and extremely dangerous when their beliefs and philosophies are challenged.
👫 They also share the same cruel and gruesome idea of vengeance and retribution; Hanzo as Scorpion, scorched the innocents and devoured them for the sake of cannibalizing. It was never done with the notion of ritualization, nor for the sake of justifiable ritual sacrifice for the religious’ sake. For cannibalization is the ultimate act of dominance, contravening one of the humanity’s deepest and most ancient taboos: that to consume human flesh is the ultimate betrayal of our humanity. When the beast massacred all the constables, Valtr, who in turn devoured the beast whole in vengeance for his former comrades, thus gaining the name Valtr, Beast Eater. As we have discussed on Discord, I can very well imagine both of them exchanging the stories of their past over Bo Rai Cho’s finest sake.
👫 I remember choking on my water when I read Master’s Iron Helm description from the game; “"An iron helm resembling an upside down bucket. A single hole allows one to peek out with a single eye, which is probably all that its original owner had. The iron helm is passed down among masters of the League. Valtr had in fact lost the ability to see Vermin long ago." And Hanzo will attempt his absolute best so that Valtr could lose this particularly useless head gear and opt for something much more functional and effective, like glass eye and a variation of the mask style Hanzo wears for himself that would fit Valtr’s aesthetics. Hanzo simply doesn’t want to risk both of their lives
👫 In Netherrealm, Hanzo is more prone to have his mastered hellfire go out of whack as his abilities tend to run asunder. There will be times when Valtr will see glimpses of Scorpion in Hanzo; for his past is forever etched and ingrained like intaglio and his heart is still mutilated, either by love or no love, in his burning isolation of before. They both are highly prone to experiencing maniacal madness when it comes to their subconscious; they as survivors must cope with the loss, at least temporarily, of their sense of safety. The natural reaction to this loss may have been grief, and they may have already went through strenuous grieving process in their past, but their visible struggles may continue to create different facets of them that becomes uncontrollable, and unhinged through their behaviors.
#✗ obsessive cathartic (headcanon)#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion)#✗ seeking reconciliation with his own humanity (iii)#(relationships; valtr)#(I mean we already talked about most of these through Discord but they are very important to me)#(and their uncanny parallelisms!)#umtplex
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apocalypse tropes:
The Apocalypse Brings Out the Best in People: The impending end of a society/people/world/etc leads one or more people to become kinder.
Apocalypse How: This trope is for categorizing the scope and severity of the "apocalypse" in question. Continental: an entire continent or even an entire landmass ("Oceania", "North America", "Eurasia", etc).possibly repeated until it becomes “planetary”
Apocalyptic Logistics: The total loss of imported goods and resources (oil, clean water, etc.) is only a minor inconvenience for everyone.
Beast of the Apocalypse: A monster that kick-starts The End of the World as We Know It. (metaphorically)
The Beforetimes: Survivors of the apocalypse refer to the way the world used to be as something along the lines of "The Beforetimes."
Civilization Destroyer: It doesn't necessarily destroy a world, but it does end a civilization.
Conducting the Carnage: The best thing to do when everything is falling apart is to wave your hands conductor-style and treat it like music.
Dancin' in the Ruins: An entire civilization has been destroyed...Hooray!
Depopulation Bomb: It didn't necessarily destroy the planet, but it did wipe out most of its people, probably leaving only a few survivors.
Desolation Shot: A slow, somber shot of a place once populated and kept, now barren and dilapidated.
Disaster Democracy: A band of post-disaster survivors band together and elect some leaders.
Disaster Scavengers: Post-disaster, the only way for characters to good food, water, and other supplies is to scavenge the surrounding areas.
Doomsday Device: A device/object capable of destroying the world.
Earth That Was: Earth has been destroyed or is otherwise uninhabitable, contributing to the plot/setting.
Earth All Along: The desolated planet the story takes place on turns out to be Earth itself, not a fictional planet.
Emergency Broadcast: An official government warning of an impending threat, broadcast to the population.
The End of the World as We Know It: If the heroes don't manage to save the day, this is what will happen.
Giant Wall of Watery Doom: A tsunami capable of quite a bit of destruction.
Horsemen of the Apocalypse: Anthropomorphic Personifications of the The End of the World as We Know It from The Bible.
The Immune: Humanity as a whole is threatened by a disease that has already killed quite a few—but one or more characters have an immunity to it.
Must Not Die a Virgin: When the world is coming to an end, at least one character's goal is to get laid once and for all.
Mutually Assured Destruction: Nuclear warfare between two or more nuke-owning nations has the potential to cause the total destruction of all participants to the conflict — and this may also result in taking down the rest of the world with them.
Natural End of Time: A Class X-4 apocalypse, caused naturally and by time rather than by a sudden cataclysm.
Nuclear Nasty: Radiation results in the creation of monsters, and sometimes villains.
Omnicidal Maniac: A villain who doesn't just want to destroy the hero—they want to destroy everything. (nature)
The Plague: A disease, either lethal or extremely dangerous, poses a threat to society or even the world at large.
Post-Apocalyptic Dog: In the event of an apocalypse, dogs will appear as either ravenous animals or Man's loyal best friend.
Post Apocalyptic Gasmask: Survivors of an apocalypse don gas masks to protect themselves from the poison or radiation that caused said apocalypse.
Post-Apunkalyptic Armor: Survivors don improvised and very punk-style armor.
Ragnarök Proofing: Even after many, many years of desolation, ruins of a former civilization are still holding up pretty well.
Reclaimed by Nature: In the absence of people, nature reclaims lost ground.
Reduced to Ratburgers: Food has become so scarce that characters turn to eating meager animals—rats, bugs, mice, etc.
Ruins of the Modern Age: The ruins of a fallen civilization come from our present-day world.
Scavenged Punk: Technology or other appliances are built from scavenged junk.
Scavenger World: After the end, a society emerges, and everyone in it is a scavenger.
Screw the Rules, It's the Apocalypse!: People take advantage of the fear and chaos the apocalypse brings to do whatever they want.
Set the World on Fire: Small area or big, the world is scoured by flames.
Signs of the End Times: The apocalypse has several boding signs before it comes.
Teenage Wasteland: A world where children somehow gain power over adults. college students with few other contacts but same idea
Urban Ruins: Cities or other urban areas fallen to ruins.
Watch the World Die: Instead of trying to survive, a character chooses to just sit back and watch the world end, probably too despaired to do anything else.
considering:
Apocalypse Wow: The apocalypse is absolutely nightmarish, but man if it isn't cool!
Apocalyptic Montage: Montage of several landmarks leading up to, during, or after the world-ending catastrophe.
The Apunkalypse: Once society falls, everyone becomes a vandalizing punk.
Break Out the Museum Piece: Older machinery in storage may be more easily run or maintained in a post-apocalyptic society.
But What About the Astronauts?: The planet is destroyed, and the astronauts must ask, "Now what?"
Celebrity Survivor: The world is falling around as they speak, but characters still ask someone, "Hey, aren't you from TV?"
The Elites Jump Ship: The leaders, the rich, and the powerful left everyone else to rot during some calamity.
Emergency Presidential Address: An emergency has become so dire that the leader of the nation makes a televised address to the citizens.
The End Is Nigh (AKA Doomsayer): The random guy, preacher, or street hobo declaring over and over that "The End is neeeeaaaar!" Problem is, they're right.
Eternal Recurrence: The Apocalypse repeats at intervals.
Fallout Shelter Fail: The shelter designed to save people from the apocalypse isn't up to the task.
The Famine: Widespread, maybe even planetary, lack of food.
Homeworld Evacuation: Some people—may be even everyone!—manage to get off the planet before it's destroyed.
Inferred Holocaust: Technically, the aftermath of an event should have gotten a good lot of people killed, or ruined an area forever...But it's glossed over in the story.
Last Fertile Region: There's only one place left that still maintains wildlife.
The Last Man Heard a Knock...: Someone believes that they are the last living being or human on the planet, but not only are there others, but they also manage to run into each other.
Lost Common Knowledge: Society has suffered through some kind of disaster, and many years later, basic knowledge of how the world works is lost.
No FEMA Response: Humanitarian aid fails to appear on the scene of a disaster.
Pointless Doomsday Device: Its sole function is to cause mass destruction, so...why was it made, to begin with?
New Eden: The land is utterly decimated after a disaster, but after a few good years, it's revived and inhabitants can return to it.
Restart the World: The world is just too far gone, so the only way to save it is to destroy it and start over.
Slept Through the Apocalypse: Someway, somehow, someone manages to just miss the apocalypse.
Solar Flare Disaster: A planet takes a hard hit from a solar flare. Disaster ensues.
Spreading Disaster Map Graphic: A map showing the source of the disaster slowly spreading across the land.
Sterility Plague: A disease has rendered those infected unable to bear children.
Synthetic Plague: A plague was created by humans, intentionally or not.
Unspecified Apocalypse: The cause or nature of the apocalypse is left unknown.
Wasteland Elder: The older leader of a small survivor group, probably with the knowledge of how the world was before it ended.
The World Is Always Doomed: It doesn't matter how many times the world is saved, because tomorrow, it'll just be threatened again.
maybe:
After the End: The main setting of the story is post-apocalyptic.
And Man Grew Proud: Whatever caused the "apocalyptic" state of the world becomes a simple myth over time.
Animal Is the New Man: Humanity falls, and animals rise up to take their place.
Apocalypse Anarchy: Once everyone knows that the world is about to end, society falls into chaos.
Apocalypse Cult: A cult who strives to cause the apocalypse.
Apocalypse Day Planner ???
Apocalyptic Log: During or leading up to "the End", a character records their thoughts.
Archaeological Arms Race: Everyone is racing to get the technology from a lost civilization.
Cosmic Flaw: There's something fundamentally wrong/out of place in the fabric of reality that will spell certain doom for the world.
Future Primitive: Time passes by, but mankind has somehow managed to become dumber, or less capable of maintaining itself.
Post-Apocalyptic Traffic Jam: A road jammed full of abandoned vehicles (and perhaps the remains of their unfortunate drivers) left in the aftermath of the apocalypse.
Post-Peak Oil: A work takes place after all of the world's oil has been depleted.
Storyboarding the Apocalypse: Showing, in full detail, just what will happen and how if the day isn't saved.
no:
Apocalypse Maiden: An innocent character is destined to bring about The End of the World as We Know It just by existing.
Apocalypse Not: After the supposed "end" of everything, society has somehow managed to sustain itself, either barely or impressively.
Apocalyptic Gag Order: One or more world governments are aware that the apocalypse is coming, and they're trying to stop it—but no one else is allowed to know.
Cockroaches Will Rule the Earth: Cockroaches—or an evolved form of them—take over the world after humanity falls.
Cosy Catastrophe: The world ends, and that's fine. No biggie.
Destroyer Deity: A God, Goddess, or other entity associated, or solely responsible for, mass destruction.
Doomsday Clock: When the literal clock strikes twelve, it's all over.
Dream Apocalypse: Everything and everyone is just someone's dream. So, if that someone were to wake up...
Earth-Shattering Kaboom: An explosion so big the entire planet is destroyed.
Endless Daytime: The sun does not set, ever.
Endless Winter: The world is trapped in a neverending Ice Age.
Hell on Earth: Hell itself manages to invade the world.
Hostile Terraforming: Alien life invades and starts shaping the planet to suit their needs at the cost of the natives'.
Humanity's Wake: Humans are extinct.
Just Before the End: The work takes place just a short bit of time before The End.
Low-Angle Empty World Shot: A scene requires that only the actors are in the shot, even in a real-world busy city. Thus, the actors are shot at low angles to crop out passerby.
Mayan Doomsday: December 21, 2012—the date the Mayans supposedly predicted as the end of the world—is used as such in a story.
Millennium Bug: The arrival of January 1, 2000, was believed to cause computers all over the world to malfunction, leading to disaster—it's used or mentioned in a work.
Mistaken for Apocalypse: Someone believes that the apocalypse is coming or has already happened, but...no. They just misinterpreted some coincidences.
Mystical Plague: A plague is created by mystical powers, not a scientific mishap.
The Night That Never Ends: The villain's main goal is to get rid of sunlight forever.
No Bikes in the Apocalypse: The world has fallen, and the only way to get around is on foot, by horse, or by scavenged cars. Bicycle? Don't know her.
Planet Eater: A character, monster, or entity who eats planets.
Put Them All Out of My Misery: A villain is in such a state of misery that, for some reason, he concludes that killing everyone else will help.
Reality-Breaking Paradox: Someone does something impossible, and reality basically blue-screens.
Regional Redecoration: The Earth itself is reshaped as a result of something huge.
Star Killing: Someone or something destroys a star, even one that has surrounding planets.
The Stars Are Going Out: Stars disappearing from the night sky is a sign of bad, bad things.
Sugar Apocalypse: A place of sunshine and rainbows falls apart.
Villain World: The Bad Guy Wins, and he takes over the world.
Zombie Apocalypse: The world ends via being overrun by the undead.
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Best of DC: Week of November 13th, 2019
Best of this Week: Captain Cold and the Rogues #82 (The Flash #82) - Joshua Williamson, Rafa Sandoval, Jordi Tarragona, Arif Prianto and Steve Wands
We all thought the City of Bane was bad.
By all means it is, because Bane is a maniac, but at least Gotham’s infrastructure is still mostly intact. Central City, however, is a wasteland of snow, crime and Doom thanks to Captain Cold (now going by King Cold, totally not a Dragon Ball reference) and to a lesser extent “Apex” Lex Luthor. Captain Cold has taken over the city, divided it up amongst his fellow Rogues and they’ve finally won! So now the sole question is: What happened and where is The Flash?
The book begins with a gun fight between former Central City Police, now owned by King Cold, in a firefight with insurgents, seeming to consist of regular good people and other cops that Cold couldn’t buy. Rafa Sandoval does a good job in making Central City look absolutely wrecked. Cars and debris function as ramshackle barricades, fire and explosions ring all over the city as we see a wide shot of it from above and we even see Iron Heights Penitentiary, now renamed Ice Heights. It’s become a stronghold guarded by tanks with mortars, giant protruding ice spikes and Cold Soldiers with the Symbol of Doom overlooking it all. It’s a badass shot.
It’s a disturbing dystopia made even worse as the sky as been blackened, disrupting the weather which concerns Weather Wizard. He, Heatwave and Mirror Master sit in a meeting with King Cold to discuss a recent string of break ins in Central City that have been giving off strange power signatures. When one of his aides questions if it’s the work of the Flash, Cold answers that The Flash is “dead.” It seems that between the events of the last issue and this one, the relationship between the Rogues has gotten strained with all of them blowing Cold off, saying that this petty crime is a non-issue.
It’s strange because the Rogues are supposed to be a family and Snart only took Luthor’s Offer if he could share the fruits of it with his buddies. Together they managed to take over Central City in The Flash’s absence and it’s alluded to that Snart’s sister, Golden Glider, has also gone missing. There’s a high chance that whatever happened to her might have contributed to the divide and combined with Snart’s more murderous tendencies coming out after his time with the Suicide Squad, it’s likely also hardened the hearts of the rest of the Rogues as well.
When another energy spike is detected, King Cold decides to go himself, saying that no one steals from him. He shows up to see citizens fighting, they seem to be some petty criminals claiming part of the city for themselves and get absolutely terrified when Cold shows up. Cold tells them how he used to live by a no killing code unless absolutely necessary, but things have changed, of course. As he goes to freeze them to death, he is stopped by Commander Cold, Flash’s partner from the far future. This is a conflict I’ve been absolutely waiting to see for a while! Much like Citizen Cold from the Flashpoint timeline, Commander Cold is a good, vigilant hero and is almost as capable and skilled as Leonard Snart in the use of Snart’s own Cold Tech. Key word: Almost.
Sandoval continues to amaze with an actual good fight between the two Ice-Men. As Commander Cold tells Kid Flash and Avery to escape, Snart creates giant, ice (hulk) fists and tries to pound all of them. Commander Cold repels him with his cold gun before it gets knocked away and then he creates a little bomb made from just a snowflake and it sends King Cold crashing into his tank. Snart, for the first time in a seemingly long time, smiles as the blood drips from his mouth. He laughs and says the fight is exactly what he needed!
Though, as Commander Cold recounts Snart’s own history to him, the former Captain reminds him that the tech he’s using is still his and that he’s the true master of it and freezes Commander Cold in a solid block of ice, winning the fight as Kid Flash and Avery get away with what might be one of Mirror Master’s mirror tech pieces. It’s actually really difficult to watch King Cold descend into what he’s become. I thought his time on the Suicice Squad would be similar to Harley’s or Deadshot’s, but every team he was saddled with left him as the only survivor and his heart became his name. This rings ever more true as we reach the absolutely horrific ending to this issue.
Snart remarks that people are trying to return the world back to the way that it was before the sky went black with Doom. He laments that his friends don’t see things the way that he does, especially after he bargained to give them their new gifts. He even asks himself if he should be out there trying to fix things, but then he’d lose Central City and be a loser again. It’s sad that The Rogues winning is ultimately what’s causing his melancholy. The only thing that’s been an upside was the fight with Commander Cold that he had earlier; it made him feel like himself again.
He chuckles and remarks to an unseen character that “he only kept him alive to show him that he won” and that if he tried what Commander Cold did, the same fate would befall him as he throws the decapitated and still frozen head of the hero into the cell to the shock and horror of the still living Flash. I used to think that Cold was redeemable, but after this, I don’t know if that’s at all possible anymore.
Joshua Williamson has seemingly been taking Leonard Snart on a roller coaster of a ride in his characterizations since he first appeared in DC Rebirth. He’s been almost an anti-hero, then a smart but bumbling villain, to a killer and finally just a man without remorse for his actions. He’s betrayed what the Rogues used to stand for and he’s dragged almost all of them down with him.
He’s truly become a monster and Williamson has done an excellent job in writing his descent into Doom and evil. He almost used to be admirable for having a code and just wanting to be better than the Flash, but he let his greed and hatred get the better of him like his father before him, becoming what he never wanted to be.
Rafa Sandoval, Jordi Tarragona and Arif Prianto never cease to be an amazing team. Sandoval’s style is arguably why he’s my favorite Flash artist right now because it all flows so smoothly. His lines are thick and distinct and he gives clothes so much sway and movement. Even rips and tears in costumes look amazing. Everything feels so high energy, epic and dynamic in his hands.
Of course, without Arif Prianto’s colors and Jordi Tarragona’s inks, it wouldn’t be quite as amazing. Prianto has a way of giving everything a smoothness and shine that feels appropriate for this story, especially given the nature of Flash’s stories. Though his work on the colors of backgrounds, especially the snow, is amazing to look at. Tarragona, as well, does excellently in appropriate shadows that cut right into the darkness of the situation.
I absolutely loved this issue of The Flash, mostly because the TV show really got me into the Captain Cold character. His criminal motivations have been interesting and I’m even tempted to read more of the New 52 stuff as The Rogues were very prominent during that run. I’d always put him off as being a lame Mr. Freeze because of Super Friends, but recent years have been extremely kind to Captain Cold.
I love this dark path that he’s going down and I can’t wait to see how the Flash will reconcile with this and how he’ll finally take Leonard Snart down. High recommend!
#dc comics#comics#the flash#captain cold#leonard snart#commander cold#barry allen#the rogues#year of the villain#joshua williamson#rafa sandoval#arif prianto
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Wonder Woman: on female characters in comics PART 2
part 1, 2, 3
Please bear in mind that English is not my first language!
Part 2: Useless pretty, sexy bad and second-hand skirts
Summary: A classification of female characters in comics.
Before we get going, an important note: this is not character bashing. I may sound extremely critical and snide at times, but it doesn’t mean that I hate these comics or these characters or even these authors! Batman, for instance, is my absolute favorite fictional character. I also have the biggest soft spot for Harley Quinn and Lois Lane. However, it doesn’t mean that it gives them a free pass. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Text under the cut.
In the previous chapter, we’ve touched on ‘fridging’ and why it’s not cool (ha-ha see what I did here). Due to particular conditions, women were pretty much absent from the picture and therefore, could not influence how women were portrayed for a while. Male visualization of women turned out to be quite… limited. Reading comics, I have noted that female characters in the comic books can generally be divided into four categories. There are, of course, some exceptions, but the percentage is far too small. As I thought about these categories, I’ve realized that three out of four are constructed though the sexism of the superhero narratives, while the last one is in a constant struggle against it. There are damsels in distress, femme fatale, gendered spin-offs and the female superheroes. Some characters fluctuate from one category to another, or fit into more than one. Let’s talk a bit more about the first three, so it’ll become clearer, why the female superheroes are so important for representation of women.
The first category is the damsel in distress: the mother or the aunt, the girlfriend, most often powerless.
It includes such characters as Lois Lane, Vicky Vale and Iris West. Interestingly, all three of them are journalists, which arguably justifies their rash behaviour, which often lands them in trouble. They are nice, generally understanding, but quite often annoying, as they manage to land themselves in trouble yet again. It’s like they don’t understand that they should just sit down, because they either land in villain’s hands or they pressure the hero to quit heroing. With time, they have become snarky and easy-going, and obviously able to take care of themselves (until they aren’t) but the truth is, they are indistinguishable. They are cut out from the same piece of cardboard, as precious time for character development cannot be wasted on them, and they serve as conscience, motivation and ‘someone to come home to’. They are the classic ‘women in the refrigerators’ (Simone, 1999) and their interests and plot arcs rarely transcend the love interest, or in case of Iris and Aunt May, the relative of a superhero.
Probably the most notable example will be the Injustice franchise, where Superman becomes a tyrannical dictator, stricken with grief after the death of Lois, who has also been pregnant with his child at the time (Injustice: Gods Among US [I] #1, 2013)*. The comic series depicts the extent of Superman’s psychological trauma, as he is deceived by the villain into killing Lois with his own hands, thus, focusing not on the tragedy itself, but solely on Superman’s reaction to it. By the end of the series, the reader still has no idea, what kind of person was Lois. She is not important, what is important is that now the superheroes have an excuse to fight each other. Nobody in the comics really mentions her. The only time someone does, it is to reprimand Superman for his actions, all while Superman plans kidnapping Lois from another dimension because she’s just replaceable. Of course, this isn’t a story about Lois, but if a main heroine of Superman family cannot get a decent dealing, what’s there to hope for, for a lesser female character? We do not see her family or friends. She doesn’t really have a life outside her husband and it is precisely her connection to Superman that gets her in trouble. I might be picky, but having a joint surname (Lane-Kent, West-Allen, Watson-Parker) isn’t enough of a feminist statement for me.
The second category is the femme fatale or a seductive villainess, such as Talia al Ghul, Poison Ivy and Catwoman.
Most often, she is attracted to the superhero and tries to sway him of his righteous pass with her female charm, while he treats her as a lesser threat than male villains, because he believes she can be ‘good’ again. If she rejects the ‘good side’, she gets further from humanity and, thus, loses her chance for sympathy, absolution and happiness. Seductive villainesses often find themselves in a situation where they have to resort to their sexuality to distract their opponents or to persuade men to work with them. They are reduced to sexual objects for the male characters and by extension for the spectator, meaning the reader of the comics (Mulvey, 1975: 62).
They perform the role of the seductresses, trying to lure the hero from the path of righteousness and virtue. While being positioned as the erotic object, they are at the same time completely dehumanized. Talia turns from a villainess in love, who cannot decide on her loyalties, into a full-fledged assassin, and she is portrayed as a cold-blooded maniac, who drugs and rapes Batman, brainwashes him, clones their son and kills him (Robin: Son of Batman, 2015). In Harley’s absence, Poison Ivy does not value a human life at all, manipulates people and is more plant-like than human (Austin, 2015: 294).
The relationship between female empowerment and male disempowerment can be described as dichotomous. There is a prevailing narrative that a woman with power is a threat (Austin, 2015: 286). She defies male dominance and dares to enforce her own rules and focus on her own desires. The man tries to regain control over the dangerous woman. (Mulvey, 1975: 67) Notice how generally these women have a good cause at heart: Talia’s aim is to preserve the planet from disastrous actions of human kind; similar to Poison Ivy, who is concerned with flora; Catwoman protects felines and girls and women of lower classes and is essentially a version of Robin Hood. Harley Quinn has a mental illness, and copes with it by adopting animals and looking after them. Killer Frost is a heat-vampire and when she finds a cure (Firestorm) she pretty much stops attacking people, because she was doing it only to survive. Another interesting observation: it is their connection to men that pushed them to extremism. Talia is manipulated by her dad (who assures her of his love for her to save him on numerous occasions, but in the end kills her and uses her body to store his consciousness (BTAS)). Pamela Isley is nearly murdered by her male colleague. Selina is sexually abused by men. Killer Frost is locked up in a working reactor. I would assume everyone knows what’s the deal with Harley. Most often it contrasts with the actions of the hero: he tries to help her, make her normal again, fix her. This perpetuates a stereotype of how women are wrong about their prejudice against men, because ‘not all men are like this’. What is also inevitably and unknowingly created is that these women do not need fixing, it would change them at core. They aren’t even evil, as much as they would only help a cause if they believed in it. Even if they try to change for a man, they relapse: but through relationships with women, they are healed and they are able to embrace their power and be good, be evil, be something in the middle – and being true to themselves at the same time.
Obviously, I am going to talk more about Harley Quinn. In the case of Harley Quinn, Joker physically and psychologically abuses her, manipulates her, makes her lose her job and her degree, drives her mad and so on. When she exercises her agency and comes close to killing Batman, successfully trapping him – something Joker himself had not succeed in – he angrily sets the boundaries between himself and Batman, their relationship, and Harley, who must only follow orders (Mad Love #8-72, 2009). Man games are one thing, and woman must never intrude! Harley learns it the hard way – it costs her almost every bone in her body. Joker ‘owns’ Harley and when she leaves him, he is livid and immediately sets to return her into his possession (Gotham City Sirens #10-26, 2011), exemplifying how Joker is unable to accept Harley’s existence beyond him (Austin, 2015: 285). On the other hand, Batman tries to establish his authority over her by bringing her to justice and rehabilitating her. He perceives her as a victim and someone, who despite being as dangerous and cunning as Joker (Mad Love #8, 2009), still needs saving. Harley is caught between two men, and while Batman is genuine in his desire to get her away from Joker (plus he doesn’t have romantic feelings towards her), it’s a no-win situation for Harley, because she can’t break away from her dependence issues. Enter Poison Ivy. By making Harley immune to all toxins, she both makes Harley stronger and cancels her main advantage over her. Poison Ivy doesn’t see Harley as a sidekick or a child who doesn’t know any better – she makes it possible for Harley to keep up with her. It also transforms Poison Ivy’s character. From then on, writers have abandoned the trope of Poison Ivy’s occasional boring crush on Batman.
The third category is the ‘spin-off franchise baggage’ (Scott, 2013). It is quite easy to spot this type of characters, as their names are literally the derivative of their male (the original) counterpart: Batgirl, Supergirl and She-Hulk.
She does not have a sound or at least unique backstory, she is essentially the female version of the character, but secondary to him: weaker, less interesting, less popular and less developed (Fretheim, 2017: 32-33). Supergirl is another survivor of Krypton; She-Hulk was created literally by blood transfusion from Bruce Banner to his cousin, Jennifer Walters (they wanted to give her his rib, but it sounded vaguely familiar for some reason).
Sometimes such a character can break out of the limited space, provided by the legacy of the common root of the aliases (Bat-family, Super-family), for example, Barbara changes her line of activity after injury and Batgirl becomes Oracle, a character in her own right, giving voice to a readership with disabilities. It is also an example of how ‘fridging’ can be turned into a positive character development. In the Killing Joke, Barbara is harmed only because of her association with Jim Gordon, and the thematic purpose of her injuries is to provide emotional stakes for Batman. Nevertheless, she doesn’t stop being a hero and doesn’t become a liability. She is unique and interesting to read about. However, while it is possible, it is also reversible, as in 2011 Barbara puts on the Batgirl suit once again (Cocca, 2016: 78). Rarely, she can become more popular than the original hero, like Hawkgirl.
In terms of visual representation, it is quite easy to retrace sexual discrimination in the way that the male and female counterparts are portrayed. Although men with super powers do not need muscles to lift cars, they look jacked, a bit too much really. Hulk is positively ugly. Women, on the other hand, cannot let themselves be caught looking a tad less than ready for a Playboy photo-shoot.
Where male superheroes are embodying the ideal of masculinity, they are fit, muscled, and attractive – they are essentially the asexual subjects, while even their own gender-bent versions are put into suggestive poses and are given revealing outfits and heels (Batman: The Drowned #1, 2017).
Last but not least, the category of the female superhero. She is created as a distinct character, with her individual backstory and a set of powers. She is Wonder Woman, Starfire, Black Canary.
The female superhero has her own backstory and her own set of powers. This doesn’t mean that they’re saved from the male gaze, unfortunately. The image above is one of the most modest costumes of Starfire I have found. This is particularly Starfire’s curse:
The female superheroes stand seemingly separate from the male superheroes, but men are still the part of the equation. Damsels, seductresses and knockoffs are directly linked to the male superheroes in forms of extensions of the mythos. The female superheroes exist in a state of eternal struggle against the male superheroes, male villains and male readers. According to O’Reilly, the female superheroes are restricted not only by the authorities, but even by their own sex (O’Reilly, 2012).
To understand the mechanism of gender politics within the comics, let’s examine Wonder Woman against the male superheroes, namely Superman and Batman. While deconstructing their dualistic natures, we encounter a paradox of Otherness (Fretheim, 2017: 10-11). Every superhero has a secret identity. This duality attracts the reader, by making him or her identify through resemblance with the superhero’s disguise as the everyman or everywoman. The comic book promotes the idea of inclusivity, participation. It indulges the fantasy, providing the impression of the activist participation. (Pitkethly, 2012: 216) Superhero defeats the villain and saves America, and the reader feels like he or she has contributed to the victory of ‘truth, justice and the American Way’. It is no coincidence that the popularity of superhero comics correlates to the periods of the high and low threat (Peterson, Gerstein, 2005: 887). In times of the high threat, such as the Second World War, there is a significant increase in interest for ‘powerful’ and ‘tough’ fictional protagonists (889).
Superman is also a meek reporter Clark Kent. Bruce Wayne is also a caped crusader Batman. As a superhero, Wonder Woman, too, exists as a heroic person and an alter ego of an ordinary woman, Diana Prince. Her otherness is expressed through being an Amazon, a super-powered being and a half-goddess. However, as a woman, she is also forced into position of the Other to Superman and Batman (De Beauvoir, 1949). If you’re unfamiliar with De Beauvoir, she referred to the socially constructed concepts of women and femininity in her Second Sex, written a year after women got the right to vote in France. The standards of the so-called femininity were established by patriarchal society and every woman was obliged to live up to these standards. De Beauvoir described the cultural symbols and social pressures put on girls from the very young age. Girls were taught to be passive and submissive, she did not have a choice as she was defined by the male dominated world to be a mother, a grandmother, a housewife. Men were the one, the neutral, the common, while women were the Other. While a man was the creator and the subject, a woman was an object in his power and always secondary to him. She also talked about the social taboos such as menstruation, criticizing pseudo-science that invented the idea of the biological inferiority of women. Menstruation was not the topic to talk about in public, since the very ancient times girls and women were locked in their houses during the periods. The female body is regarded as the Strange, Different, the Other. There is a cult of appearance; the women learn how to manipulate people with their looks. There are certain norms of how a real woman should look. The praises of female virginity and restrictions of the expose of the female sexuality were listed among the other ways in which the male society discriminated the female accumulation. Wonder Woman is, therefore, pitted as the Other to the male superheroes, while being alienated from other women.
So we can see that no category of the female characters in comics are any better than another or have it any easier than another. Nonetheless, the figure of the female superhero is important, because it is a definite step away and open resistance to being background or second-hand. Girls couldn’t relate much to Lois, because, honestly, they were not supposed to – she was not their fantasy, she was male fantasy. There were some female superheroes prior to Wonder Woman, but yet again, they were created by men for men, and girls didn’t want anything to do with them. Industry naturally assumed that the reason is girls being generally uninterested in comics. As Dr. Marston noted, ‘not even girls want to be girls’ (Lepore, 2016: 187). He set to change that, and hence Wonder Woman was born.
*it needs another note: Injustice series is actually one of my favourite comic runs ever, and it has great female characters and great character development and is simply amazing. But it’s based of a game, and they had to work with the game premise, and they did a fantastic job doing it. Still, as I love it dearly, I’m allowed to critique it and so I will.
**despite the name, Superman’s Girlfriend Lois Lane is a wild and fun comic.
Bibliography
Simone, G. (1999). Women in Refrigerators, available at: http://www.lby3.com/wir/
Austin, S. (2015). Batman's female foes: The gender war in Gotham City. Journal of Popular Culture, 48(2), 285-295.
Mulvey, L. 1999. ‘Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.’ In Film Theory and Criticism: Introductory Readings, edited by Leo Braudy and Marshall Cohen, 833–44. New York: Oxford University Press.
Scott, S. (2013). Fangirls in refrigerators: The politics of (in)visibility in comic book culture. Transformative Works and Cultures, vol. 13
Fretheim, I. M. (2017) Fantastic Feminism: Female Characters in Superhero Comic Books. Trykk: Reprosentralen, Universitetet i Oslo
Cocca, C. (2014). Negotiating the Third Wave of Feminism in "Wonder Woman". PS: Political Science and Politics, 47(1), 98-103.
Cocca, C. (2016). Superwomen: gender, power, and representation.
O’Reilly, J. D. (2005). The Wonder Woman Precedent: Female (Super)Heroism On
Trial. Journal of American Culture 28.3: 273–83.
De Beauvoir, S. (1949). The Second Sex. New York: Vintage Books
Pitkethly, C. (2011). The pursuit of identity in the face of paradox: Indeterminacy, structure and repetition in Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman. Journal of Graphic Novels and Comics, 1-7.
Peterson, B., & Gerstein, E. (2005). Fighting and Flying: Archival Analysis of Threat, Authoritarianism, and the North American Comic Book. Political Psychology, 26(6), 887-904.
Lepore, Jill. (2015). The Secret History of Wonder Woman. New York: Knopf.
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The Sole Survivor and companions come across an intact house with a sealed garage. The is surprisingly very little exterior damage to both structures. When they finally open the garage, they find a vehicle in nearly pristine condition. What luck! The vehicle starts up! What are the companions reactions to Sole teaching them how to drive?
Cait: She was super into driving until she almost hit a damn tree. After that she was scarred and never wanted to drive again.
Curie: She was an absolute nervous wreck. She couldn’t go 5 feet without hitting the break. Sole started to feel sick and told her that they’d work on it another time.
Codsworth: I don’t think he physically could drive a care even if he wanted to.
Danse: Very uneasy, “shouldn’t this be left to someone with better training?” Sole just kept laughing, they were training him! He always drove at really slow speeds, if there were a speed limit, he’d be driving waaaay far under it. Sole thought it was hilarious.
Deacon: “This goes completely against my character.” Driving in a car in a place where cars haven’t been around for over 200 years wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. Despite what he said, he liked the sensation of driving; he preferred to be in the passenger seat taking a nap though.
Dogmeat: Please do not let a dog drive.
Gage: The second Gage was behind the wheel he knew he was meant for this. Once he knew the basics he became a damn speed demon. Sole saw their life flash before their eyes on more than one occasion. Needless to say, they wouldn’t let him drive anymore.
Hancock: Hancock had the time of his life behind the wheel, he was a real natural to driving. He was 100% the type of person to yell-sing to the radio.
MacCready: Driving had awoken something in MacCready that he had never seen before. He laughed maniacally as he drove over radroaches. After he had his fun, he got out of the car with a headache, “I never want to see that side of me ever again.”
Nick: When they first got the car working, Nick liked to crack jokes like he was hitting on the car; they’re both machines after all. Nothing very interesting to be said about his driving skills though.
Piper: She caught on very quickly, and didn’t drive like a maniac (thank god). Piper preferred to keep the windows down while she drove, she liked the wind.
Preston: Before Preston had his turn driving, he thought it looked cool, but quickly learned it takes more focus than he thought it would. The break was so touchy! He preferred to walk.
Strong: He couldn’t fit in the car, he was so upset he nearly smashed it.
X6-88: He was absolutely memorized by the vehicle. He’s seen the most advanced technology that the commonwealth had to offer, but he’s never seen anything like this. He wanted to know how it worked more than anything else.
#fallout#fallout 4#Cait#Curie#Codsworth#Paladin Danse#Deacon#Dogmeat#Porter Gage#John Hancock#Robert Joseph MacCready#nick valentine#Piper Wright#preston garvey#Strong#x6-88#fallout companions react
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Where is Trish Jarvis during Tommy's time in the various institutions he's been in?
I have absolutely no idea and I’ve been wondering about this for almost twenty years. I think it’s one of the most valid questions in the whole scope of Friday the 13th. Where’s Trish?
In A New Beginning, I kind of get that she might still be out there somewhere as he’s not functioning very well and in need of more intensive treatment, but both movies really seem to imply that she’s dead. Actually I don’t know what they’re implying. “Aren’t you the kid who’s mother and friends were killed by that maniac?” The need to single out mom makes it sound like Trish made it out OK, but “friends” is confusing because Tommy didn’t know those kids.
I can’t imagine either movie assumes she died because they both use the audio clip of her screaming “Tommy.” I love both New Beginning and Jason Lives, but they both recontextualize Tommy as a sole survivor--the whole extended franchise does this to some extent too. Tommy’s really thought of as a lone survivor, when he actually isn’t.
Even the comic Freddy vs. Jason vs. Ash: Nightmare Warriors brings back every Friday the 13th survivor except Trish Jarvis.
In all fairness, though, the two movies we see with older Tommy are really snapshots of his life. In A New Beginning, Tommy’s still undergoing treatment, so it makes sense for her not to really be a presence. And in Jason Lives, he’s either still in treatment or just out of it. It sounds like he and Hawes had just gotten out, because Hawes says “If the institution ever found out about this, they’d haul our butts back in straight jackets.”
If they escaped, the institution would already know about it. So to me that just sounds like they were finally back out in the world and Hawes was bringing up the fact that what they were doing would be more than enough to get them sent right back.
There’s not a lot of room in either movie for Tommy to have a reunion with Trish, but it would at least be nice to hear him talk about her a little. Even a line or two of “My sister always says...” or something would kind of make a world of difference.
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