#path-tec

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

(Full work now posted here.)

This current piece is taking longer than I'd expected to finish, but I think y'all will like it. Thank you, as always, for your continued patience. Needless to say, I am a big sucker for darker (but still sweet) portrayals of Prewar!Cooper that play into the parts of The Ghoul that already live inside him.

Here's a little 500-ish word sneak peek for those interested:

Duplicity

Pairing: Prewar!Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Possessive!Prewar!Cooper, jealousy, dubious consent, infidelity (physical and emotional), decomposing marriages, acrimonious divorce proceedings, alcohol use, choking, biting, degradation, mild exhibitionism, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, love confessions, soft ending.

Things were heating up quickly between you and Cooper. Maybe too quickly. Your lover's lips were attacking the exposed side of your throat, your back pressed firmly into the plush mattress as you wriggled beneath him. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, between the one-too-many cocktails you'd had during the party and the way he was touching you, moving you, positioning you the way he wanted as he moved in between your legs, standing over you at the edge of the bed. "Maybe we should wait." you breathed, your breaths deep and deliberate as you tried to sober yourself up enough to string together a clear thought. It would've been difficult enough simply trying to resist his kisses, but this was some random Vault-Tec executive's guest bedroom. There was a party going on. Your husband was likely still outside mingling, possibly looking for you. The odds of that weren't high, but they weren't zero. While the two of you had fooled around a bit up until now, you couldn't help but feel like you wanted things a little different for the first time you really had sex, for when you fully took that plunge and committed to this path. The man on top of you seemed to feel differently. "Don't think so." he purred lowly into the crook of your neck, running his teeth along your collarbone and making you shudder. You could smell the gin martini he'd been holding earlier on his breath. "You made me watch him touch and kiss on you all night, and now you're gonna make it up to me." Cooper's warm, softly calloused hand found your throat, holding you firmly as he gazed down at you,. He wasn't choking you, per se; at least, not in the way that you would've anticipated someone would choke you, squeezing around your airway until your breathing was cut off. No, instead, he pressed his fingers and thumb into the soft flesh on each side, digging into your twin pulse points and slowing the flow of blood to your brain. It didn't hurt or make you feel panicked. In fact, quite the opposite happened, your squirming finally ceasing almost entirely, your brain buzzing with warm, tingly docility. Between that and the already toasty feeling coursing through your veins, you haltingly allowed your defiant thighs to fall open halfway, slowly forgetting the reasons you'd been resisting, forgetting where you were. "That's a good girl. You know who you belong to, don'tcha?" he praised, his free hand stroking the sensitive inside of your thigh reverently. The feeling of two of his thick fingers sliding inside of you suddenly sent you whining in response, both at the stretch and the slight sting of it. That sent a smirk ghosting across the actor's face, leaning in to run his lips along the soft, flushed skin of your cheek. "Pretty little cheatin' slut. Now, be quiet and let me have what's mine."

[pandafruit]

Ok, I’ve been tossing this AU around in my head for AGES, and I have to get it out or I’m gonna explode.

So in TEC, it’s made pretty clear that there are numerous risks to reviving Butler that even the fairies can’t fully account for. No healing like his had ever been attempted before, and there was really no telling what was gonna happen.

What if, in the face of all this, Holly refuses to heal him?

She’s not a trained medical warlock. She’s on her own. And she’s being asked to desecrate the body of her friend, with unknown, possibly catastrophic results. She refuses, tries her best to console Artemis and goes home.

Now, a lot changes from here.

Artemis obviously isn’t giving up hope. He transfers Butler to longer term cryogenic storage and has human surgeons fix his wounds as best they can in the meantime.

Artemis and Holly’s friendship is shattered. Artemis could never forgive her for not even trying to heal Butler. Holly doesn’t hate him in turn, but she does (mostly) believe she did the right thing, and wishes he would see her point of view. The LEP might still occasionally contact Artemis for help (though not for long - I’ll get to it) but the two of them remain, at absolute best, frosty around each other from then on.

Spiro and Blunt are no longer getting the “off to prison” treatment lmao. Artemis contacts Carla Frazetti and convinces the Chicago mob to turn on Spiro and assassinate both him and Blunt. Afterward, Artemis ends up taking Spiro’s place as benefactor and strategist for the mob. In return, Carla provides him with a security detail when needed (which is how I’m getting around Artemis not dying without Butler every 5 minutes lmao). The relationship proves very beneficial to Carla, and absolutely horrible for Artemis’s moral compass.

Artemis becomes obsessed with learning how to use magic - if the fairies won’t heal Butler, he’ll do it himself. This strains his working relationship with the LEP to the breaking point, and he eventually becomes a fairy fugitive. (I’ll be honest, this one is just bc I think Warlock!Artemis is cool as hell. They should’ve let him keep the magic >:(((( ) (Also cue tragic-yet-awesome scene where Holly is trying to bring him in and they get into a magic fight. The drama. The cinema).

Speaking of his magic! Artemis is no longer actively monitoring Foaly’s work, and the calculation error for the demons goes unnoticed until far too late. Thousands die in Hybras’s return to Earth, and the fairies come dangerously close to being revealed altogether.

When Artemis’s Atlantis Complex hits, because of his decidedly more amoral life path and extra dabbling in magic, it’s a hundred times worse. He has full blown hallucinations, panic attacks, multiple alters, and can no longer access fairy help for any of it. He stumbles by with human OCD treatments, but it’s not nearly as effective. He still refuses to see a psychiatrist.

Eventually, years down the line, Artemis masters magic well enough to revive Butler. It’s both better and worse than it would’ve been had Holly healed him - he no longer has to deal with the Kevlar strands thanks to the human medical intervention, and Artemis was able to train for years specifically to heal him, but the extra time in stasis means it takes even more of Butler’s life force to revive him.

When Butler finally awakes, he no longer recognizes the cold, paranoid, angry young man he used to dutifully protect. Butler may have been the one who was revived, but it’s Artemis who came back wrong.

There’s a million different ways this AU could go, but this is the stuff I’ve been tossing around. Also I know for a fact I haven’t hit every plot hole - PLEASE please share what you guys think would happen with me!! As of rn, I have no name for this AU, so I would appreciate suggestions for that too lmao

[hellhound-wrangler]

I binged the Fallout show yesterday and the "oh, no dogs allowed in the vaults" thing being the last straw in Coop's relationship was just... I thought it was great. Not just because I like dogs, or because Fallout has a long tradition of the protag being a dog person, but because as a dog person, the thought that my spouse could have grown so alienated from me as to not realize what a huge fucking deal it would be for me to give up/put down my dog for her plans was just chilling. Like, just a great illustration of how wide Vault-Tec's secrets have levered that chasm.

She can't tell him why it's so vital to get into a specific vault, or even let him inow that it's more than general anxiety about the war that has her so stressed. She's so consumed with this idea of a least-hellish path forwards that she's already written off their dog and while she's sorry for their kid losing the dog, she can't even remember that her husband is exactly the kind of guy to a) dig in his heels about his dog and b) REALLY dig in his heels about his dog being written off with no one even bothering to discuss it with him.

[spaceclefairy]

Ain't No Sunshine

The Ghoul's back in town. Maybe not for long, but you'll take him for as long as you've got him.

Act I | Act II | Act III | Act IV | Act V | Ao3 Compilation

You're outside on the front porch of your office when you hear a gunshot in the distance. You drain the rest of your drink and watch the sun slip down past the horizon. You’d originally come outside to enjoy a stiff drink in your rickety old rocking chair and wound up nursing your drink well into the evening, far longer than you’d intended. Most of your nights are spent like this, though, rocking on your porch and watching the sunset after you close up shop. It’s as close to relaxation as you get out here in the wasteland.

You don't think much of the gunshot - they pop off like popcorn in this town, day in and day out. It's as commonplace as the morning screeching of those horrible little mutated roosters your neighbor keeps (they're the size of dogs and have teeth like butcher knives). It's probably wastelanders taking out a radroach. Or each other. Or some kind of hybrid of the two (things have been weird around here lately).

Off down the dirt path, just barely within your line of sight, a cloud of dust picks up on the breeze. You shield your eyes from the haze rolling through, and in the waning evening light, you can just barely make out two shapes in the distance. It’s odd for any of the townsfolk to be out past sundown, but they’re too far away to make out any real defining features. It’s likely a pair of bounty hunters, anyway; bounty hunters coming in late in the day for payout are usually the only ones brave enough to walk these streets in the dark.

As they draw closer, you start to make them out. One of the shapes is small and slight, waifish almost, wearing a jumpsuit that might once have been bright and blue but was now a faded, dirty navy. The other… well, you already know the other one.

Your Ghoul clearly remembers where you live.

When he struts up onto your front porch, spurs clinking against the wood, he gives you what would almost, on any other face but his, be a sheepish grin. It hasn't been long since Filly - about a month. Actually, you expected him to be gone longer, but it’s been long enough for you. You don’t want to know what he’s been doing to be dragging the woman around with him, though.

You do, however, want to know why the woman with him looks like she's been through hell and back, though. She’s barely even standing up straight at this point and seems borderline shell-shocked, and you don't blame her. Even you don't want to know what your Ghoul gets up to during the day, but it seems like she's found out.

The Ghoul nods off back into the distance. “Radroach. Nasty fucker. Killed a couple of those roosters.”

You raise an eyebrow, fighting a grin. “You get it?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “Blew a hole right through it.”

The woman lets out a shaky breath, her already-wide doe eyes expanding even further. “It exploded.”

The Ghoul takes a step closer to you, boots clunking on the wooden porch. “Got room?”

You nod. “Always.”

You usher them inside as night finally falls, snuffing out the front porch lights as you pass.

The Ghoul walks upstairs without a word, every step of his boots and spurs echoing down the wooden staircase. He already knows where he’s sleeping.

The woman stares after them, then looks at you and sticks out her hand to shake yours. “I'm Lucy.”

It finally hits you that she's wearing a Vault-Tec jumpsuit. The Ghoul’s dragging around an honest-to-God vault dweller. You would have figured it out by her mannerisms even if you hadn't recognized the jumpsuit. Wastelanders don't shake hands and introduce themselves. 

You're not unfamiliar with the practice, though. You take Lucy’s hand and tell her your name. “I've got a room down here and a place you can wash up.”

Lucy looks like she might cry. “A shower?”

You grin with sympathy. “No, not quite. But there's a sink with clean water.”

“Please, thank you,” Lucy says, and with those doe eyes blinking at you, you get the distinct feeling you'd probably give her your kidney if she asked for it. She looks like she's been through the ringer. “Any water at all.”

“Whatever you need - just don't tell anyone it's here. We keep clean water a secret around here.”

Lucy nods enthusiastically, and you lead her off into the back washroom with the promise of finding her a pallet to sleep on. You drag a little cot in your backroom along with a flat pillow and threadbare blanket. It's not much better than sleeping on the floor, but you're quite sure it's better than anywhere else the poor girl has slept in a while.

You show her to the backroom. “It's not great.”

“It's just fine, thank you.”

You glance at her windburned cheeks and chapped lips. Her skin hasn’t toughened up against the elements up top yet. You can empathize. “I grew up in a vault, too. Topside was quite the shellshock.”

“Really?” Lucy asks, sitting down on the cot. “Why did you leave?”

“Well, my mom fell in love with a wastelander she found topside - she was a courier - and took me with her. I was 14,” you start, leaning against the door frame. “Nice guy. Bounty hunter. He killed her and left me outside a bounty agency.”

Lucy's mouth hangs open, and she starts to form the words I'm so sorry, but you wave your hand dismissively. It’s been a long time. That’s just the way the world works.

“I don't know what he's-” you motion behind you back towards the staircase, “put you through, but since you’re alive, I'm guessing you're not a bounty,” you say gently. “You'll be okay. We vaulties are tougher than we look.”

Lucy nods and sighs. “Thank you.”

You start to close the backroom door behind you, but pause and stick your head back in the doorway. “By the way, you're gonna want to keep this door shut tonight.”

She blinks in confusion, then blinks with realization, and nods profusely. “Got it.”

You shut the door with a click, then head upstairs.

You find your Ghoul reclining back on your bed, back resting against the creaky headboard. He'd discarded the duster and vest on the back of your single chair, bandolier and belt in the seat, and kicked off his boots next to your bed. His gloves and gun lay ready on your nightstand, never far from his hand. He'd found another crusty old paperback - a different one, newer but still decrepit - and taken to reading it.

When you approach, he holds out a hand for you to take and pulls you down into his lap, back to his chest, and situates you between his outstretched legs. He wraps an arm around your stomach and rests his chin on your shoulder as he reads, breathing slow and even. 

You let him read for a while in silence, enjoying the simple touch. You don't really want to break the silence, but eventually you do.

“Where'd you find the vaultie?”

The Ghoul hums next to your ear. “Filly first, right after you left. Then the New California Republic.”

You open your mouth, then shut it, then open it again. You haven't heard anything about the NCR in years, not since it was nuked. You’d seen smoke billowing up recently but would have never considered it was coming from the NCR. You want to ask why he’s been out that way, but you really, really don't want to know what he's been getting up to lately if that’s where he’s been. (You don’t want to admit to yourself it worries you where he’s been.)

“I don't want to know, do I?”

He chuckles. “Probably not.”

“Noted.”

The hand crossing your stomach moves to the hem of your shirt and dips just under the fabric to trace your skin. He continues reading the book over your shoulder, and you relax back into him.

“Didn't know you were a vaultie,” the Ghoul says slowly, carefully.

Ah, well, clearly he was listening. You didn’t think he’d be able to hear you all the way downstairs.

“Oh, yeah, a long, long time ago,” you reply. “Been topside longer than I was ever in a vault.”

His hand slides lower, fingertips just barely tickling the soft skin up under the waistband of your pants. It tickles something fierce, but his touch is so, so nice, you can’t bring yourself to swat his hand.

“Did you ever find that bounty hunter?”

“Sure did,” you reply, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “You know, they say revenge doesn't make you feel any better.”

His hand dips lower, past your underwear, the motion of his fingers languid as he trails his fingertips softly through coarse hair. Not wasting time tonight, it seems. You’re pleased.

“Did it?”

He slides a finger down your slit, catching on your clit, and rubs light circles with his fingertip.

You smile. “Never felt better.”

The Ghoul's mouth rests against the shell of your ear; you can feel him smirking against your skin. “That's my girl.”

He slips a finger into you as he reads, then a second, tortuously slowly, but it makes you sigh. It's not quite the feeling of fullness you want, but his fingers are so pleasantly heavy inside you, and his thumb pressing down on your clit makes you squirm.

You stop yourself from grabbing his wrist and relax back against him. This seems to garner his approval because he presses his fingers a little deeper, giving you more pressure against your clit. His breath in your ear is deceptively calm, like he's not pulling you apart with just a hand. 

“Hold it,” the Ghoul says, passing you the book. “This is the good part.”

The occupied hand, now free, makes quick work of unbuttoning just enough of your shirt to slip into. You close your eyes while he plays with your nipple, trailing a fingertip over it so lightly it makes you want to crawl out of your skin. His blunt nails scrape over your skin, and you can't stop the whimper that spills out of your mouth. You can feel him smirking against your ear, so smug,  but he continues on as if he's doing nothing but reading that stupid book.

You squeeze your thighs together, trapping his hand while his fingers are knuckle-deep, but he pinches your nipple as soon as you do.

“Nope. Spread ‘em.”

You spread ‘em, as instructed. He drapes a leg over your knee so you can't trap his hand again. You've come to learn he likes it when you open up for him.

“Next page.”

You oblige, and your reward is his third finger pushing past your entrance to join the others. He switches to your unattended breast, rolling your neglected nipple between his fingers. 

“Coop,” you warn, and your voice sounds broken even to your own ears. You can barely breathe, and the book shakes in your hands. 

He hums, and you can hear the satisfaction dripping from his words. “Next page.”

“Cooper,” you say, and he says your name in response, and his voice in your ear makes you feel fucking strung out. 

“Relax and focus,” he says softly. He thrusts his fingers, and you can hear every movement he makes. “Now, next page, or I’ll stop.”

You take a deep breath and turn the page, fully intending to relax back against his chest (when had you tensed up?), but he picks that moment to press his thumb down on your clit and roll it around the pad of his thumb. You hiss, and he laughs, and oh payback will be sweet.

The hand that’s been playing so diligently with your nipple abandons the task, and you almost whine, but you don’t want to give him any more satisfaction at the present moment. He runs his hand up your sternum and rests it against your chest just above your collarbone. He doesn’t move to wrap his hand around your throat, but it’s close by, just resting against your chest, and the weight is comforting. 

“I know you’re trying to be quiet,” he says, “but I’m sure Vaultie’s heard worse.”

You huff. “Warned her to keep the door shut anyway.”

“Well, then, don’t keep those pretty sounds all to yourself,” he replies, punctuating his words by pressing right on that spot inside you that’s absolutely made you scream before. “Or I’ll make you read the next page out loud for me.”

“You’re so in for it,” you gasp, and oh, he likes that. You can feel his cock twitch against your back, even through his pants and your shirt. “Your hand’s gonna get tired eventually, and then it’s my turn.”

“Threats like that, maybe I’ll stop and see what you do about it,” the Ghoul says. He makes you tilt your head back against his shoulder with the hand now actively around your throat and presses a kiss to your temple that’s a whole lot more teeth and tongue than lips. “Now, why don’t you be good and come for me? Then I’ll let you have your turn.”

“Can I put the book down? Sure would make things go quicker.”

“No,” he snorts. “Next page, babydoll.”

“Fuck, you’re mean sometimes.”

The threats to stop don’t matter much in the end. You come on his fingers, orgasm popping along your spine like static shock. He pumps his fingers slower, more gently, and lets go of your throat to wrap his arm around your waist, keeping you tight to him. You pant, struggling to catch your breath, and let him work you down through your high. 

His nose would be in your hair if he had one, so his forehead rests against the side of your head. You can feel him grinning smugly against your ear when he says, “Not so mean now, am I?”

You extricate yourself from his grip, turning around in his arms and kneeling between his outstretched legs before he can get a good hold on you. With his face in your hands, you kiss him hard enough to knock your teeth together. He fists his hands in your hair and holds you close, nails scraping at the back of your neck. You let go of his face, unwilling to break contact with his mouth (you don’t think he would have let you if you’d tried anyway), and yank open his belt and zipper.

When you do pull back, it’s only because you’ve all but run out of air. You take his heavy cock in hand and kiss him again because fuck he’s good at that. “I fuckin’ missed you.”

“Seems like it-”

He’s cut off when you wrap your lips around his shaft and take him all the way down to the hilt. It’s a strangled half-moan he makes that cuts off his words, and it goes straight down your spine like lightning. You’ve never heard him make that noise before - he’s usually pretty quiet at first. You aim to make him do it again.

You wrap your tongue around the head of his cock, licking along the slit, before taking him all the way back down and hollowing out your cheeks. That does the trick; he moans again, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from giving in and just jumping on him. That noise is worth it, though, and you busy yourself with a game of how many times you can get him to do it.

“Fuck - easy,” your Ghoul breathes, pushing your hair back away from your face. It’s not out of an attempt to be sweet - he doesn’t want to miss a second of watching your lips around his cock. “You only get one shot, sweetheart-”

You pull off of him with an audible pop. “Well, let’s see how long you can last, then.”

He grins, and you match him. You take him back in your mouth, all the way down until your nose hits smooth skin. The tip of him sits heavy in the back of your throat, pitted and raw-looking like the rest of him, but surprisingly smooth. You scrape your teeth lightly up the length of him. His head smacks audibly against your headboard, and you giggle around him, the vibration of which only makes him groan and buck up into your mouth.

The Ghoul tightens his grip on your hair, pulling you back just enough to give him some wiggle room. You take that as your clue to unclench your jaw, and he fucks your mouth with the same calculated intensity that he does everything else. Your eyes water, and you can feel sweat dripping down your cheek in the heat, but he swipes away both with his thumb.

Dry humping the mattress isn’t giving you any relief, so you slide your hand down to your cunt. There’s not much room pressed down against the mattress, but you make do as best you can, fingers circling your own clit desperate for any amount of stimulation. It’s what you need though, and between the slide of the Ghoul’s cock in your mouth and your fingers at your clit, you get yourself right there.

The Ghoul notices. He stops moving and taps your chin, half-laughing and half-breathless. “Come here, darlin’, I’ll take care of that.”

You scramble into his lap, legs bracketing his thighs, and sink down onto his cock while he holds himself steady. He scoots you closer, hands on your hips, and holds you down so your pelvis is flush to his. You think he likes the closeness and the feeling of you so full of him, but you don’t mention it. 

When you finally start to move, you don’t bother to keep quiet. The Ghoul cuts you off with a kiss. “Think we’ve traumatized Vaultie enough yet?”

“She’s an adult,” you shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Besides, do you know what Vaulties do to each other down there?”

He grimaces, “Ugh… Don’t want to.”

“Lotta weird shit, Coop.”

He closes his eyes and huffs. “Just kiss me.”

You kiss him, clasping his face in your hands while you grind down on him. His hands blaze a path up and down your back like he can’t make up his mind where to put them. He finally settles on your ass, mostly so he can get some leverage to control your pace. 

You don’t last long, and neither does your Ghoul. You come with his fingers at your clit and his face pressed into the crook of your neck. He comes right after you with a soft groan muffled by your skin, the heat of him filling you up somehow comforting.

When you finally choose to climb off of him, he doesn’t let you get far. You wind up in much the same position as when you first climbed into bed, with your back to his chest and his arms wrapped around your middle. You relax back against him, sticky and sweaty from the heat of the room and your combined body heat, but unwilling to move anywhere cooler.

The Ghoul rests his chin on top of your shoulder. You think, for a moment, he wants to say something, but he instead busies himself pressing his lips to your shoulder. He may be able to turn a phrase, but you suppose that doesn’t include talking about things.

You don’t want to ask because you already know the answer, but finally, you do. “Are you leaving in the morning?”

“Pillow talk isn't really your thing, is it?”

You give him a look out of the corner of your eye.

He bumps his chin against your shoulder. “Yeah.”

You don’t want him to leave - you really, really don’t. “Okay.”

He says your name softly. “Come with us.”

You don’t know what’s going on, why the Ghoul is dragging Lucy around behind him, why there’s constantly smoke filling the sky and Vertibirds tearing through the clouds, or why this all feels so fatalist, but you know there’s not much you can do other than shoot a gun or get in the way. What you can do is provide a place to come home to for a man who’s wandered the desert longer than anything else currently walking around.

“You want me to come with you, but you could make this your home,” you say. You turn around in his lap so you’re facing him and find him watching you with something in those hazel eyes. “I’ll be right here when you get back. Not if you get back, Cooper. When.”

Your Ghoul nods. “When I get back, then.”

[ruexsdrty]

thinking about thief!reader who hates her identity so much that she always plays as somebody else. once she ended up stumbling across an open vault being ravaged by raiders. what did she do? steal a vault-tec suit and a pip-boy of some dead vaultie.

just like that, she has a whole power-armour in her family bunker where none of her family lives anymore. just outfits upon outfits of gangs and organisations and what-not. just to stand out, just to be anything other than the average bleak mediocre barely-surviving wastelander.

a different helmet, a different cap or armour for each different persona—a sweet vaultie turned bitter for revenge, an all-sacrificing BOS Knight helping the wasteland, a good-intentioned scavanger, a sharp-tongued druggie from Goodneighbour. The list could be endless and she wasn't planning on ending it short anytime soon. If she could dress up as a Synth, trust her she would.

Hell, she even made a disgusting Ghoul face mask. Hiding from raiders had never went so right when she took refuge inside some abandoned costume house. Most of the good stuff was gone, like the beautiful wig of red hair on a wall poster. but some of the weirder things were there, like the zombie mask she found on a wall shack in the corner. it wasn't smooth, it had ridges and a rough texture—something that could pass as a ghoul's skin. and you bet she wasted no time to shove it in her bag along with a bunch of other clothes.

maybe while she was having scaring some innocent wastelanders as a ghoul—not a feral one—she could cross paths with The Ghoul, him catching a whiff that something is up but doesn't pay much mind to it. or maybe they meet each other during some sort of fight with an irradiated beast, realising that her huffs don't sound much like a ghoul's, her voice is too soft and sweet for it. or maybe they meet each other when she's trying to patch herself up in a bathroom of some empty pharmacy that he had walked into to grab some vials because ghouls don't need bandages or radaways. the possibilities are endless 😭

[mswyrr]

i find stories with long-term romantic relationships fascinating - especially marriage. and what i see in barb and cooper is that... she despairs first and stops caring what happens to other people, because the only thing she thinks she can do succesfully is protect the ones she loves. (and, given how bad things had gotten, can we say for sure she's wrong? can we really say if she had tried to fight Vault-Tec she wouldn't have ended up a ~mysteriously dead~ whistleblower? do we imagine nobody in the company tried to get the truth out?? did the majority of people in the America of 2077 even want to hear the truth? side note they didn't give barb the iconic "war... war never changes" line for her to be 100% evil - we will learn more and see dimensions of what went down in the past imo) and then cooper becomes lost to despair and stops caring about others too. they mirror each other - or, he follows her down the same despairing path.

there's also the level on which what barb loved about cooper--his sweetness, his loving, romantic nature--was ultimately the thing that she came to believe was good reason to treat him like their child and make major decisions for both her husband and their little girl without consulting him. their separation while he was at war and then the way he understood things radically different from her when he came back (how wilfully blind and naive he must have seemed) probably played heavily into this.

but i see both insight into how a couple can lead each other astray - down the path of despair - and how a major way to do that is to start thinking negatively of the very traits that drew you to someone instead of continuing to engage with those and let that person cooperate with you to shape your shared path forward in life.

(barb started seeing the sweet heart that had drawn her to cooper as a liability rather than an assert, to use corporate speak lol)

i'm genuinely excited for what more we'll learn about how this romance went tragic and in seeing barb and janey in the present storyline. i'm a multishipper and there's a lot neat to explore and all of that is valid - but i think, speaking in terms of what the narrative is doing with the canon ships, those are neat in the sense that we've got a tragic romance in the past that symbolically represents the world being broken -- and then a present day romance that's about two young people trying to make something better than the cruel hand they've been dealt

[dailycass-cain]

I apologize for the delay, but here are my thoughts on Detective Comics #1086 where we enter the end stage of Ram V's Tec run.

Reading the issue has left me a little 😭as we get numerous payoffs to prior areas of Ram V's run here. Namely, the stuff with Two-Face and looks to be the next stage of his story path in this and I'm terrified for both personas.

They both know the real identity of Batman now, and I want to see someone play with this idea eventually instead of stuffing it back in the box (which will happen).

It's just that this does open new ideas for Two-Face as a character, given both them and Jim know the truth.

This issue does introduce a new player to the mix. Though it may feel last minute to some, it doesn't. An ulterior message on Ram V's run here has been legacy.

It makes more sense as to why she shows up now given we've seen the Orghams. Barbatos. Batman. Etc.

That's where it hit me on the careful selection of Bat Family members in his run. Each person has a stake in the legacy of the Bat.

This wasn't about "preference" this was about the legacy of Batman. And we have all three here at last.

Jean-Paul was the picked heir of Bruce when "Knighfall" saga occurred. While I do wish we had more new antics of him in the cape/cowl. You only need to read "Knightfall" saga to grasp that.

The same goes for Nightwing as we've gotten "Prodigal" along with several years of stories during the Grant Morrison era (along with Pete Tomasi and Scott Snyder too).

Cass has some stories of her commitment (James Tynion IV's Tec run for example). But none are nowhere near as legendary or easier to access than that.

That's where the realization dawned on why she's gotten more a showing here than them. Cause new readers do need to be reminded of this.

She's got that same drive. She just had the drive before meeting Bruce as the run has pointed out.

The whole moment of Bruce laying it all out what they've all got to do to prevent this scheme by the Orghams. And the group shot of them?

Chills.

Because reading this run as a whole. Ram V has been building to this group shot and man artist Stefano Raffaele just nails it.

So yeah, we're at the end game of this run and I cannot be more hyped to see where this all goes.

Yeah, Cass is safe (along with Dick and Bruce). But I want to know where the journey truly does end. Man, what a journey this run has been.

[judgeanon]

So about that DETECTIVE COMICS #1084...

As a big Shiva fan, I really, really liked that. Maybe my favorite issue with her since Hill's Outsiders run. I made a thread in another site about it but I liked that issue so much that I'm gonna take a sec to repost it here too, so hit that jump if you wanna read an in-depth analysis of 'Tec #1084... or at least, its backup feature!

I'm kinda kidding, I actually enjoyed the main story too. I liked seeing Bruce and Talia reunited in a very touching moment of romance that gives way to grim tension as the unfortunate complications of the strange and violent world they live being to slowly rip them apart once more... and then Shiva happens. For one panel and in a flashback but it was really fun to see Talia call her a friend for a bunch of reasons.

The most serious one is that I genuinely think that, given enough room to work with, Talia and Shiva could be a very compelling pair. Shiva is known to be interested in people who are in a state of flux, who find themselves in crossroads trying to figure out where their true path really lies. And Talia, for better or worse, has been there for, like... years now. I've always thought that Talia, endlessly torn between her love for Bruce, her love for her father, and her love for the world, might even find something tempting about Shiva's absolute detachment, about her comparative freedom from all connections. Which would be fun to explore.

The other reason comes from the issue's backup story by Alex Paknadel and Robbi Rodriguez, which I didn't expect at all but ended up being a huge treat for me, since it aligned so much with a lot of what I consider the most interesting elements and perspectives in Shiva and Cass' relationship.

Right from the start, we have Shiva being able to read Cass and figure out what's wrong with her just from a couple of fighting moves, which I absolutely adore. What looks like a fight is really just them having a conversation, at least for Shiva, who is very quickly able to get at the deeper emotions troubling Cass and holding her back.

(Also, that one panel of Snake Style ThodThodThod's really made me smile. I love the idea of Shiva using stranger, more exotic martial arts than anyone else, especially in Gotham)

On my first read I wasn't really onboard with Shiva's words about not killing Cass, like there was something about them that didn't quite click, but after mulling them over for a while I feel like they can be read as Shiva intentionally picking at Cass' perfectionist nature and competitive spirit. It's less "I spared you and now you owe me" and more "You trying to be Batman makes you suck, here's why, now be better." But I might be reaching a bit there.

Still, it does work, which I really enjoy. I like Shiva being able to prod Cass into reaching deep within her, figuring out what's wrong and improving herself. And we get a lot of that in the next couple of pages, where Cass grapples with the Azmer while also grappling with her own nature. Cass' training with David is an extremely defining element of her character. It's her instincts, her mother tongue, her main method of expression, but it's also something that causes her a ton of inner turmoil, due to the intentions of that training.

Cass is presented in this story as someone inwardly ashamed by her nature, worried of the assassin skills that are weaved into her very nature and what that may say about her. Of course, this is something that Cass has been through before and has developed quite a bit, maybe even outgrown but with Batman dead and gone, it probably makes sense for her to lapse a bit back into self-loathing without that symbol to guide her and with her failure at trying to emulate it. Which I think is a very human thing to happen. Your worst traits are never really gone, and tend to slip back into you when you're at a low point.

Which is why I really like the last few panels of this story.

Although first, Shiva calling Talia an "associate" makes me giggle a bit. C'mon Shivs, don't be so tsun-tsun... anyway.

On the most basic level, we have Shiva offering Cass some solid advice that ties the whole story in a neat bow. But it takes on an even stronger quality when you remember this is Lady Shiva talking here. Shiva, who we know wants Cass to be more than just a Bat. Shiva, who understands the strength that comes from finding your own path and following it. Shiva, who maybe more than anyone knows exactly how strong Cass can be once she embraces all aspects of her own nature and finds harmony in herself.

From almost any other character, that last phrase would just be a nice little canned moral. From Shiva's lips, it carries the weight of decades of character work for both Cass and Shiva. It's a solid ending that's elevated by the history between its characters. It hits SO many of the notes I want to see, the things that I think make Shiva's relationship with Cass genuinely compelling. Shiva being able to "read" Cass through a fight, her wanting Cass to be herself more than anything else, and all of it unhindered by any kind of easy moral judgment from Cass or the story itself.

Shiva is not presented as a monstrous villainess who Cass must reject, but as her own character with her own story that happpens to cross with Cass' for a moment. And from Shiva, there's no berating Cass for being a hero or choosing not to kill. There is berating, sure, but it works because it speaks to something a lot more personal for both characters than generic notions of good or evil. It speaks about Cass' need to find and be herself and stick with it no matter what.

(Which this arc also touched upon a couple months ago in 'Tec #1082, which very elegantly made it clear that Cass had the heart of a hero before she even knew what a Batman was -- an incredibly powerful statement made in just two captions)

So this is a story that hits pretty much all the right notes for me. I wish it would hit them a bit longer, or in a few different ways that didn't involve Batman, but it's just a perfect example of most of the elements that I think make this relationship worth exploring. Even the fact that this makes it the sixth major appearance of Lady Shiva in a row that is ultimately dedicated to her relationship with Cass doesn't bother me because this is precisely how I want this relationship to be written. If they were all this good, I wouldn't even mind.

And on top of all that, this issue is also a good example of something I'm always thinking about: tempting as it is, you don't need to make every Shiva appearance be huge and bombastic and lead to some massive story arc. It can be something small but meaningful, a quick appearance with some very choice words, Shiva walking into an ongoing story to, in her own way, help others get through an inflection point.

If I had to say something I disliked about it, I do think it's a little blunt in its themes and execution. Paknadel has Shiva quite literally spell out the problem for Cass, which I guess is fine given how short the story is, but it does lose a bit of elegance because of it. Still, it was a great little treat and while I know Ram's 'Tec run is coming to its end, I do hope he'll find a place for one last bit of Shiva in it.

And I also hope he gets to write her for more than just one wordless balloon because Ram V's Lady Shiva is a dream book in my book.

[ghoulbrain]

Where’s the phantom of the opera AU/vague au (aby of the movie/book versions, but probs more realistically the robert englund version) My noseless men lovers really are slow on this one

UGH i could not agree more!! especially the version you're proposing where his disfigurement was born of a deal with the devil (liiiike a vault tec contract) and he goes from well-meaning performer to jaded, cynical recluse.

at least until he crosses paths with a promising ingenue with connections to his sordid past and an earnest drive to do good and understand the truths of an unfair world.

making grabby hands and begging fandom for art of coop in a mask and suit pleasssseeee i'll write u a ficlet to go with it 😭😭😭 this could easily be x reader or vaultghoul. lucy would make for the MOST charming christine!! and give even sarah brightman a run for her money in a contest of giant doe eyes lmao

[leehoney0]

Always!

Female reader . Fluff . Suggestive

Nail tech reader who drags eren around nail supply stores,telling him in detail about what products are for what! and what she plans on using them for.

Nail tech reader jumping on eren to show him your cart full of supplies,kisses with a cute smile on your face hoping he will give in and buy it for you.he always does but it’s make you feel better asking!

Nail tech reader loving when eren massages your back and hands after finishing a sets with your client,he’d help you clean up and set up anything for your next client,he always know where things go back!

Nail tech reader hearing your clients gossip about the cute boy they saw outside bringing you Starbucks,hearts full of jealousy that such a handsome man was giving you undivided attention.

Nail tech reader being so happy that eren bought something for your work,showing you the charms he bought and acrylic that was sooo expensive you made sure his night was magical.

Nail tech reader asking eren to let you practice on him,he never turned you down unless he had work that day,showing off your work on his insta,tagging your account on his story,personal and nail account so people knew he was yours!

Nail tech reader always having her nails done,eren always choosing your next set,he loves how better the scratches felt on his back with your nails being done.

Nail tech reader apologizing for smelling like chemicals but eren never cared about that he just wanted to hug and kiss you all day long and a chemical would not stop that!

Nail tech reader kissing eren as he shows you the decoration he found for your nail room!,he would help you set it up,smiling proud about how it fit in your space so well.

Nail tech reader who hears Eren talk to his buddies about how proud and far you’ve come and how he would never leave your side.days being hard on you but eren always brought your mood back up.

Nail tech reader being surprised eren was thinking so hard on your next set,you being unaware about the ring he had hidden in your shared room,he loved your work and choosing one for your engagement was very important to him!

For my nail tecs out there ,as one myself I had to write something for us even if you aren’t or are heading towards that path hope you enjoy.also wish I had a boyfriend who supports my passions :( also I feel my nails are never done being a nail tec:/

[levi-venn]

The First Toothpick

Chapter Four: A Little Juicy Gossip

Gen Fic - Mentor/Protege

Summary: Cad Bane teaches Crosshair how to be a sniper. The kid picks up some other habits as a result.

Chapter Summary: Crosshair meets Todo 360 who does not know how to keep a secret.

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 |

Available also on AO3

“Great callouts, Hunter! You’re a natural leader. Wrecker, we’re gonna need stronger droids to handle your strength. Tech, you sliced those panels in record time! Now let's see," The lieutenant looked at his datapad, scrolling through the rest of the data. 

Crosshair waited for his turn.

The lieutenant kept scrolling, frown deepening.

A brotherly hand squeezed Crosshair's shoulder. He pushed it away. He didn’t need comfort. He needed feedback.

“Alright, pack it up, soldiers,” the lieutenant said, tucking his datapad away. “The final test of the quarter is tomorrow.” 

“Hey, wait,” Hunter said. “What about-”

Crosshair's elbow found Hunter's ribs, chasing the question away.

“Is there a problem, soldier?” The lieutenant asked, raising an imperious brow.

Hunter clutched his side. “No, sir.”

The lieutenant left.

Crosshair would have left too if not for his brothers surrounding him, blocking his escape. 

“You did great , Crosshair,” Hunter insisted. 

“You hit every single mark flawlessly,” Tech observed.

“Yeah! You’re wizard!” Wrecker shouted.

Molten anger heated Crosshair's cheeks. “It doesn’t matter what you think,” he hissed. “The lieutenant’s opinion is all that matters. They are going to retire me.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Hunter said.

“It’s not up to you, Hunter,” Crosshair said. 

“Bugger this,” Hunter sighed and grabbed Crosshair’s wrist, tugging him towards a nearby ventilation grate. "Recon time. C’mon.”

Crosshair thought about kicking him, but...the recon may prove useful.

“Aww, recon?! I wanna come, too!” Wrecker whined.

“This mission requires more stealth than you are trained to handle, Wrecker” Tech indicated. “Also your size would break the air vent.”

“Hehe, yeah, I’m a real tank,” Wrecker grinned, proudly.

Hunter hoisted Crosshair up into the air ventilation tunnel before leaping up behind him.  The tunnel ran in a dozen different directions like a many-armed rapthar, each path identical to the next. Hunter always knew instinctively where to go. It didn’t take long before they found the vent overlooking the lieutenant’s office.

There was another clone in the office with him. 

No...not a clone...

“Is that Fett?” Hunter whispered. “Last time Fett was here, they took Radar away.”

“I know,” Crosshair snarled quietly.

“Oh yeah,” the Lieutenant snickered below, taking his seat at his desk. “He's the best in the facility.” 

“Cut the sarcasm, Pynk,” Fett leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “We need a sniper in this squad.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good sniper, but we train good snipers every day. This squad needs someone extraordinary and he isn’t. It’ll save a lot of time and energy to just retire him and pick up a normal sniper for the team.”

A normal sniper…

Crosshair had heard enough. He shoved Hunter down the tunnel and followed him, angrily wiping his blurry, wet eyes as they went.

“Are they gonna retire Crosshair?” Wrecker whispered loudly to Tech as Crosshair climbed out of the vent.

“They will have to retire me first,” Tech said, adjusting his goggles, not bothering to lower his voice. “I won’t let them take him.”

“Yeah,” Wrecker slammed his fists together, “me neither.”

He ignored them both. He made a point to ignore them both. They were all idiots, thinking they could change anything by just wishing it wouldn't happen.

And Crosshair was an idiot for daring to think he could be extraordinary.

The next day, Crosshair earned the nickname “Misfire.”

Not long after that the bounty hunter, Cad Bane, took him away.

***

Crosshair couldn’t sleep.

The room was too quiet without Wrecker’s chest-rattling snores, too dark without the faint glow of Tech coding on his datapad, and even though Hunter was practically a ghost at night even when awake, Crosshair missed him, too.

Facing the fact sleep wasn’t going to find him, Crosshair slung his rifle over his shoulder, tip-toed down the hall past Bane's room, slid down the bannister, avoiding the creaky stairs altogether, and slipped soundlessly out the front door. The weather-beaten porch was barely held together by whatever rusted nails poked out of the cracked wood. He kept his steps light, but each footfall he could feel the threat of a creak beneath his boots. He leapt over the stairs entirely and landed in the dark soil with little more than a quiet squelch.

The moon was a meager sliver in the sky that didn't do much to illuminate the wheat field, but the way it moved in the wind reminded Crosshair of the black waves of a rarely calm nighttime Kaminoan sea. 

“Goin’ somewhere?”

Crosshair hadn't heard anyone approach. How was this possible? And yet, as he turned, he found that Bane had been sitting in a rocking chair in the darkest corner of the porch, only his red eyes, half-moons obscured by the brim of his hat, could be seen.

Crosshair refused to be rattled. He planted his feet firmly in the soil and and puffed up his narrow chest. “I’m going to scout the perimeter.”

“Got sensors for that, kid” Bane replied. “Ain’t a soul out there except for us n’ the Fabools.”

“Then I’ll go check on the Fabools.”

“You don’t gotta worry about them until tomorrow mornin’. Todo will show ya what to do.”

Crosshair had no response. Wrecker's clumsy question floated in his head.

Are they gonna retire Crosshair?”

He needed to do this. He needed to do...something.

Bane’s head tilted slightly.  “What?”

Crosshair didn’t respond.

I don’t want to be retired. I want to live… at least long enough to fight a real battle with Tech.

Bane let out a strained growled, his spurs jingling as his boots landed heavily on the porch. In the darkness his scarlet eyes cast harsh shadows against his scarred face. 

“You n’ me are gonna get along a lot better if ya stop bein’ so fuckin’ timid. You’re a soldier, right? You’re an elite sniper? You’re a tough guy? Then stop bein’ afraid of everything. I’m bein’ paid to train ya, but I may ask Jango for extra cuz I gotta go lookin' for yer spine first before I can teach ya anything.” Rows of sharp teeth gleamed in the dark. “Start talkin’.”

I want to live.

I want to live.

I want to live.

I-

“I…don’t want to be retired.”

The teeth vanished. The eyes dimmed. Bane leaned forward and into the meager moonlight, confusion etched into his scarred face. “What do ya mean ‘retired’?”

“If soldiers don’t meet their lieutenant’s expectations, they’re retired and their data gets erased. Radar and Pintsize were retired last year. No trace of them anywhere. Like they never existed.” Crosshair scrubbed his sweaty palms against his pant legs. He couldn’t stop talking if he wanted to, like trying to fight momentum down a steep hill. “Radar was redundant. Hunter’s tracking skills were sharper than his. Pintsize could barely hold a blaster with his tremors. The lieutenant said I’m not ‘extraordinary’ like the rest of my squad. I dropped my sniper rifle last test. They started calling me-”

The name seized in his mind. Tech’s magnified eyes glaring at him as if he was somehow holding onto the name. 

“That’s not who you are.”

“Jango knows about this? These retirements?”

Crosshair blinked. “What?”

“The retirements. Are they his decision or not?”

“It’s the lieutenant’s decision.” 

Bane rested his elbows on his knees, his unyielding glare boring into Crosshair. “Who’s this lieutenant? What’s his story?”

“A first generation clone. Lieutenant Pynk,” Crosshair thought about how to describe him. “He’s an asshole.”

Bane snorted. “Yeah, I gathered that much. So when you told me you’re the best in the facility that was his sarcasm I was hearing?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, fuck Pynk. We’ll show him what extraordinary looks like.” he extended his hand. “Gimme your rifle.”

Crosshair tightened the grip on his rifle strap. “Why?”

“Oh yer full of questions now, huh?” Bane sneered. “Official inspection, soldier. Give it here.”

With a small hiss of protest, Crosshair handed the rifle over.

Bane gave the rifle a little spin as if testing the weight. He looked through the scope. He ran his fingers over the stock and gave it a good shake.

“No wonder you can’t razzle and dazzle anyone,” Bane snickered. “This here’s a piece of bantha poodoo .”

“There’s nothing wrong with my rifle.” Crosshair said. “I clean it everyday. I calibrated it this morning. It’s fine.”

“Yeah?” Bane tossed the rifle back to Crosshair. “Prove it.”

Bane stood up, reminding Crosshair just how tall the Duros was compared to him. He was taller than Pynk and somehow that was comforting to know. In one swift movement, Bane hopped over the porch railing and with a crisp snap of his leather duster, he vanished around the side of the house.

Crosshair followed. At first it looked like Bane had simply disappeared, but upon a closer look, the side of the house was covered with a wide wooden trellis far too reinforced to withstand just the weight of creeper vines.  He looked up and saw a brief glimpse of the brim of Bane's hat on the roof. Crosshair slung the rifle over his shoulder and climbed. 

Some of the roof tiles were flatter and smoother than they appeared, leading to an ornamental bell tower half the size of Crosshair and far too small for Bane to fit. Still, Crosshair peeked into the bell tower and found...a short chute leading into a spy holodrama.

It was one part sniper tower, one part high-tech surveillance bowl filled with panels and devices similar to the simulation models Tech ran through to practice slicing communications and monitoring air traffic.

Bane sneered up at him. "C'mon in, kiddo."

“What is this?” Crosshair asked, hoisting himself into the chute and using the short ladder to climb down.

“Crow’s nest, watchtower, sniper tower, reinforced bunker, whatever we need it for. There are a couple of cots under the false floor if we get swarmed and have to lay low for a while.”

“Who would attack us?”

“The local authorities, mercs lookin' to even the score, raiders aimin' to steal the Fabools which can sell for a pretty credit on the black market.” Bane pressed a switch under his seat and the blank wall flipped over to reveal a pair  of LL-30 blaster pistols and a 773 Firepuncher rifle, the kind Crosshair had only seen in firearms databanks Tech sliced in for him.

Bane grabbed the rifle, charged it up, and checked the scope. “Don’t have to worry about any of that tonight though. Tonight, we’re doin’ some target practice...”

He dialed something into the control panel. A long opening slid 280 degrees around the tower at Crosshair’s eye-level, no taller than his fist, yet a screen flickered around the opening to reveal a holographic image of the surrounding area. 

“I can see everything,” he said.

“That’s the idea,” Bane replied. “Watch the field.” 

He flicked another switch and a blue light shimmered over the wheat field as the security shield went down. 

The grass started to quiver almost immediately. 

“What’s out there?” Crosshair asked, sliding the barrel of his rifle through the opening and peering through the scope. 

“Stalker lizards,” Bane said. “Lookin’ for a free meal inside that Fabool enclosure. Tell me what ya see.”

Crosshair toggled the heat sensor display on and off, watching the heat signatures from the lizards and the dark shadows of the landscape. “Lizards about a meter long coming from the southwest.” He scanned the enclosure next, remembering his training. Always check doors, corners, exits, and blindspots.

“We have blindspots.”

“Where’re the blindspots?” Bane asked, clearly a test. 

“South and East walls of the enclosure.”

“Already covered. Look again.”

The heat signatures didn’t change. The landscape didn’t change much either. Crosshair lowered his scope and leaned over the edge of the bell tower as if it would help. “How-”

Bane grabbed his jumpsuit and pulled him back. “Stay in here.” He pushed some monoculars into Crosshair’s hands. “Your little toy scope doesn’t have a range finder, use these.”

“It’s not a toy.”

“It surely is. You wanna be an extraordinary sniper? You gotta grow up n’ use a real sniper rifle. Now quit givin’ me that death glare n’ look at coords 233.32, 33.4.”

Fuming, Crosshair looked through the monoculars. “Coords 233.32, 33.4.” He repeated. 

Crosshair dialed in the coordinates and let the cursor on the display guide his movements.

There were several panels in various parts of the field. Each panel was painted with a shiny yellow number and embedded with silver reflective discs. “Are those mirrors?”

“Tell me which one to shoot.”

“What?”

“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but yer askin’ too many questions. Just do it.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes and shifted his scope from mirror to mirror until the caught the reflection of a stalker lizard climbing up the fabric wall of the enclosure.

“Panel two, center.”

A blaster shot rang out, it ricochet off the mirror and the low-power stun blast knocked the lizard off the enclosure, driving it back to the treeline.

“Again.”

Crosshair aligned his vision. Another panel. “Panel three, top left.”

The blaster bolt fired, ricocheted, and hit its target.

“Keep callin’ ‘em,” Cad said. "Faster."

“Six, low right. Four, center. Two, top center. Two, top left, no wait-”

“Two, middle left,” Cad corrected and took the shot. 

“How do you see them without the monoculars?” 

Bane snatched Crosshair’s monoculars and shoved the Firepuncher into his hands. “Built-in rangefinder in the scope. Give it a try.”

Bane’s rifle was heavier than his, but it also felt sturdier and a lot more powerful. He did a quick procedural check of the power cell, the scope angle, and acclimated himself to the weight before sliding the barrel through the opening.  The scope was alive with readings. Rangefinder, coordinates scale, the crosshairs shifted as it looked for moving targets and returned to center when there was nothing. 

“This is cheating,” Crosshair grumbled.

Bane snorted. “No such thing in this business. Besides, you can spend all the fancy credits in the galaxy and it don't make you the best. Yer greatest mod is yer eyes n' yer instincts. Now shut up n’ start firin’. Lizards are startin’ to swarm.”

The heat signatures doubled and Crosshair took shot after shot, chasing the lizards away.

“Good.” Bane said.

Good, but not extraordinary, Crosshair thought.

Two lizards scaled the corner of the enclosure. Crosshair hit the leader and it landed on its follower, scaring both away.

He waited for Bane to praise him. It was an impressive shot.

Bane remained silent.

Another lizard leapt from a panel onto the enclosure wall. He shot one mirror and it ricocheted off another mirror and hit the lizard between the eyes, sending it sprawling backwards before scurrying off. 

That was impressive too. He waited for the Lieutenant...no...he waited for Bane to comment.

Bane said nothing.

“He’s a good sniper…This squad needs someone extraordinary.”

He took another shot. The blaster bolt bounced off the mirror and hit the tail of the lizard. It kept climbing. 

He took another shot. The lizard dropped.

“Sloppy,” Bane said.

Crosshair’s bolt hit the edge of the enclosure, wool sizzled. The Fabools inside bleeted and honked irritably.

“Shit shot.”

“Are they gonna retire Crosshair?” Wrecker asked, eyes wet with tears.

Another miss.

“Worse,” Cad said.

And another.

“Shittier.”

He shot a mirror, it ricocheted into the night.

“Now yer takin’ yer failure out on the mirrors, huh?” Cad snickered. “Try again.”

The rifle felt heavier. Like the hands of a dozen laughing cadets and one unimpressed lieutenant was pushing it down. 

“Look out, here comes Misfire.”

The heat signatures began to multiply through the scope.

“What’re you doing?” Bane asked. “I said try again.”

Shit shot…worse…failure…

The trigger refused to move. 

“Misfire…Misfire…Misfire…”

“Dank farrick,” Bane swore and grabbed the rifle, firing five shots in quick succession. Blaster bolts soared and ricocheted off the mirrors, scaring away the rest of the lizards. He punched the control panel and the blue shimmering shield spread across the wheat field again. “What was that about? You forget how to shoot?”

Crosshair's hand twitched. He didn't move. He stared at the rifle.

“What the hell, kid?”

Crosshair couldn’t feel his fingers.

Hands shaking, he managed to hoist himself out of the bell tower.  By the time he got to the bottom of the trellis he realized he had left his own rifle behind.

Tears blurring his eyes, he raced back to the front of the house, crashing through the door and stomping up the stairs. 

He hid under the covers.

In a bed that wasn’t his.

Without the rifle that he didn’t deserve anyway.

***

The next morning, the house seemed empty. Bane wasn’t downstairs, but breakfast was waiting for Crosshair. A plate of bacon and eggs on a warming plate.

He ate quickly and guzzled the apple juice, politely pushing away the black caf and wondering if it was only there because he knew Fett was never far from a cup of caf.

He wandered outside to the sun sprinkling the wheat field with golden light. It made him squint. Climbing up the trellis, he poked his head in the bell tower. Neither rifle nor Bane was there.

His heart dropped. He felt sick. If Bane confiscated his rifle, then Crosshair was probably heading back home today. He hoped he’d be able to say bye to his brothers before they retired him. Then again, he didn’t get to say bye to Pintsize and Radar.

Climbing back down the trellis, he walked to the Fabool enclosure punching in the code he watched Bane use the day before. The gate swung open and before he could fall into a cuddle pile of Fabools, a stout droid flew directly at him, nearly slamming him against the gate.

“Who are you?!” The droid asked, round, unblinking yellow eyes flashing with suspicion, his thrusters hissing angrily as he floated in front of Crosshair’s face.

Crosshair pushed himself off the gate. “Bane told me to take care of the Fabools with Todo this morning.”

“I am Todo 360,” the droid declared, spindly arms flailing. “Did Mr. Bane order you to spy on me?” 

“No. If I was going to spy on you,” Crosshair said, dryly. “You’d never know it.”

The droid’s three-fingered hand touched his non-existent chin thoughtfully. “Oh. Hmm. That’s…a valid point. Fine, you may stay, but I am in charge here and you will tell Mr. Bane that I am doing a perfectly good job and I don’t need any help.”

“Fine by me.”

“We’ll start with feeding practices!” Todo announced, shooing away the Fabools who seemed to hate the sound of his thrusters. They rolled towards Crosshair and away from the noisy droid. It was hard to worry about retirement when there were a dozen soft, bouncing balloons begging for his attention, and Crosshair decided to enjoy the moment, taking time to pet each one while Todo did all the work. 

“Well, you’re already proving yourself to be an adequate assistant," Todo said, cleaning the water trough. "It takes me three times longer to fill their troughs when they try to bully me into their cuddle piles.” Todo floated towards the hose and dragged it across the enclosure, straining between words. “Your...reaction...to them...is...far…different…from…Mr. Bane’s…first…interaction.”

“What do you mean?” Crosshair asked.

“Oh, Mr. Bane was terrified of the Fabools when Fett brought him here. Practically climbed up on the fence to get away from them. He was scared of a lot of things back then though.”

Crosshair’s jaw dropped into his lap. “Bane? Cad Bane?”

“Well he wasn’t Mr. Bane back then. Just Cad. He hadn’t chosen a surname. Some Duros culture thing. I never understood it.”

“How long have you known Bane?”

“Many, many years.”

Crosshair cupped a Fabool chick in his hands and pressed it against his cheek. It snuffled at him, inquisitively. “Why was he afraid of the Fabools?”

“He full of paranoia when we met him,” Todo said, lightly. “Just distrustful of everything, in general.”

"But..." Crosshair stared dumbfounded at Todo. “How did he get so…”

“...so very 'Bane' ?” Todo asked.

“Yes.”

Todo held up an authoritative finger. “By eating his vegetables, little boy,” Todo hummed and floated towards the food sacks.

Crosshair rolled his eyes. “What else do you know about Bane?”

“Oh, I know lots about him. I’ve known him for a very long time. I’m his most trusted confidant. I am sworn to secrecy though so I couldn't possibly share anything with you.”

Considering how much Crosshair learned about Bane in the thirty seconds he knew Todo he decided to just nod. “Okay.”

“But…” Todo floated forward, hands rubbing together conspiratorially. “...I do have a few juicy tidbits I could share if you’re interested.”

Crosshair made a mental note to never tell Todo 360 anything about himself. “Sure.”

“Oh goodie! It’s so rare I find someone to gossip with that aren’t Fabools. Bossk and Aurra tell Mr. Bane everything .”

Crosshair scooted forward, setting the chick down on the ground only to have two fabools bounce into his lap and a third bounce against his back. Somehow all of the Fabools reminded him of Wrecker, only cuter and less annoying. “What else do you know?”

“Hmm…oh! Here's something. He didn’t know how to use a blaster when he met Mr. Fett. Mr. Fett taught him everything he knew about being a mercenary.”

“I figured that much.”

“But did you know that Mr. Fett and Mr. Bane engaged in a bar fight before Mr. Fett left for his secret project?”

“Why?”

“Is it not obvious? Mr. Bane idolized Mr. Fett, followed him around like a fabool chick bounces after a feed bag. When Mr. Fett left mercenary work, he left Mr. Bane behind. Mr. Bane took it very personally, but I think it was the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Why?” Crosshair pressed.

“Because that is when Mr. Bane found that cool confidence in himself. Mr. Fett was always there to lift him up, reward his victories, and tutor his failings. Mr. Bane had to figure out how to exist without Mr. Fett and it was then I noticed that confidence grow like a hmm…like a cactus blossom! He went from Mr. Fett’s shadow to being quite the opposing figure himself.”

Crosshair sat quietly, absorbing this fact. It was hard to imagine the Bane today cowering from Fabools or needing help from anyone.

Or starving for someone else's approval.

When he thought of Bane, he thought of the easy stance, arms relaxed and thumbs hanging over his belt buckle, a toothpick casually moving between his teeth, round eyes behind hooded lids that could see through a person with more accuracy than a scope. That nonchalant drawl, the cheeky turn of phrase, unrattled, and prickly.  

All the things Crosshair wanted to be. 

“Has Bane ever had an apprentice before?”

“Not to my knowledge. Mr. Fett’s request is unusual, but Bane would do anything for-”

“Kid, get up.”

Crosshair startled, whipping his head back to find Bane leaning against the wall, arms folded, toothpick rolling lazily in his teeth. How long had he been in the enclosure? A Fabool snuffled at his boot, lost interest than bounce against Crosshair's head.

“Come with me.” Bane left the enclosure without another word.

Crosshair didn’t move at first. Not because he was covered in Fabools, but because he knew this was the end.

Retirement…

He’d finally find out what happened to Pintsize and Radar.

“Nice to meet you, Todo,” he said, standing up and gently rolling the fabools away who happily bounded towards the droid.

“Oh! Well nice to meet you too, um… ‘Kid’.”

“Sit down,” Bane said, pointing to the rocking chair on the porch before going into the house.

Crosshair sank onto the flower-patterned cushioned seat, trying and failing to rest his boots on the railing. It was too far away. He sighed and drew his legs up, hugging his knees. He watched the skies for a ship to come and pick him up. 

Bane came out a few minutes later and sat in the other rocking chair, boots landing with a jingle of his spurs on the railing. Crosshair’s rifle was in his hands. It took all of Crosshair’s self-control not to lunge for it, hug it, and promise he would never abandon it again.

He hugged his knees tighter.

“Doesn’t take a genius to know why you ran out last night,” Bane began, tilting his hat up to look Crosshair in the eyes. “You crave praise like a dying man thirstin’ of jocola . I don’t reckon you get a lot of positive reinforcement at the facility n’ ya know what? Tough shit. The sooner ya realize the galaxy ain’t gonna give ya validation is the day ya actually become the extraordinary sniper I know ya can be.

“This is the last and only time I’m gonna say this," Bane continued. "Yer real fuckin’ good, and yer gonna be the best. I ain't ever wrong about shit like this. Now...you hold onto that praise because after this conversation, I ain’t gonna be nice to ya anymore. Yer gonna get pushed n' pushed hard, yer gonna get shaken, and I’m gonna do everythin’ I can to get ya past this bullshit worry about what everyone else thinks. Maybe you’ll hate me, hell ya might even shoot me in the back, but it’ll be worth it because it’s gonna send ya past that kraytshit extraordinary standard Pynk’s got for ya.”

Bane offered the rifle back to Crosshair. “I promise, by the time ya get back home, yer gonna be tougher than a reek’s horn n’ twice as deadly.”

The moment Crosshair’s fingers touched his rifle, he knew it was augmented. It felt like a Firepunch. Better scope, heavier stock, a weapon for a real sniper. He peered through the scope. 

“Whoa,” Crosshair murmured, scanning the field with his scope, toggling between more scanners than he knew existed. “Wizard.”

“Listen kid, in this galaxy there’ll be plenty of people tryin’ to put you down, break your spirit, break your bones. Only person you gotta trust is yourself. Yer all ya need, you understand me?”

Crosshair realized it was a lesson Bane had to learn when Jango left for Kamino. It would be a lesson Crosshair would carry with him the rest of his life.

Even if Bane was hired to train him, to be this mentor, it meant something to Crosshair. "Understood."

“Go clean up. Food’s in an hour. Beef stew minus the carrots. After that you start yer real trainin’. Deal?”

Crosshair hopped up, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. “Deal.”

“One more thing, kid.”

“Yeah?”

“What did you and Todo talk about this morning?”

Crosshair didn’t bother lying. “You.”

Bane growled quietly. “That gossiping little shit. What did he say?”

Though Crosshair didn’t intend to lie, he also didn’t feel like ratting Todo out. So he was honest about the thing that mattered most. 

“He said you’re better off without Fett around.” 

The words seemed to splash cold water on Bane’s face. The mercenary  looked away, out to the golden field, too bright in the noonday sun. 

“Is it true?” Crosshair asked. 

Bane’s glare didn’t skewer Crosshair as sharply as he expected. In fact, it looked like he may even answer.

“Target practice starts at dusk. Bring your A-game, kid. Not holding back on you. Now get outta here.”

And with that Bane sank into his rocking chair tilted his hat forward over his eyes.

The conversation was over.

Crosshair was happy he asked.

[chocmoon-latte]

OK SO prediction/theory about the Fallout show:

It seems like Lucy's going to have that whole "father runs off into the wasteland thing" like the lone wanderer in Fallout 3 did. So she's probably going to go out and search for him or whatever. Maybe he's after whatever artifact that could "radically change the power dynamic in this world."

Then you have the Ghoul, or Cooper Howard, as he's known back before the war.

He's riding on a horse with his daughter on the day the bombs drop, most likely to a vault considering the Vault Tec branded outfits they're wearing.

He was most likely associated with Vault Tec in the same way the Vault Tec rep in Fallout 4 was, considering the article describes him as an antagonist at the end of the world. Which would suggest why he just goes by "the Ghoul" now and not by his real name.

It's hard to see in the image, but in the trailer you can see them riding the horse up the mountain road.

I'm willing to bet Cooper ends up losing his daughter that day. Whether to radiation or they end up letting his daughter into the vault, but not him. But something probably happens to his daughter.

So, what am I getting at here?

Lucy and the Ghoul both share parallels. Two sides of the same coin, in a sense. And the article confirms it. Both of them have opposite personalities, and I'm thinking there's a deeper reason for this.

Both of them have lost someone, be it through death or otherwise. Lucy is a girl who's lost her dad, and the Ghoul is a dad who's lost his girl. If they're going to cross paths, I wouldn't be surprised if they developed a father/daughter relationship of the sorts.

[warsofasoiaf]

So regarding the Fallout tv series, do you think the NCR is well and truly gone, or can it still survive? Because I always thought there was a story in askinf if the NCR can and will learn from the mistakes from the past, or just repeat the cycle.

In Fallout canon (the games, not the show), by 2 and New Vegas, the NCR is far larger than just Shady Sands and the surrounding environs - they've grown to include Vault City, the LA Boneyard, etc. With the resource crises that New Vegas has been talking about with the NCR, nuking a major capital city could easily cause the NCR to fracture into smaller settlements.

Of course, Shady Sands was nuked, and the show retconned Shady Sands to be in LA so that they could be destroyed in the Boneyard as well, which does not exactly strike me as sound stewardship of the Fallout canon. So the NCR can easily collapse just because the writers say it needs to, rather than expanding the resource crisis. Because research is hard.

The question of whether the NCR can learn from the mistakes of the past is a valid one. Caesar talks about plutocratic corruption of the NCR and despite the fact that he's a slaving expansionist, he's not altogether wrong to say that corruption in the NCR is leading it down the same path that the United States did when its leadership became the Enclave. He's not right either, of course, because Caesar's conception of "civic virtue" is a nation devoted entirely to him that falls apart after his death. More appropriately, the resource crisis that the NCR has is pushing them along the similar path to the Resource Wars of the United States. They're conscripting their younger generation and throwing them into the fire just like the United States did, in order to expand into the Mojave.

This message is muddled. Mr. House says "If you want to see the results of democracy, look out the window," but in practice, the Great War was actually fired by an autocratic world power (China) and the United States had long become an oligarchic deep state under control of the Enclave. Another issue of retcon comes with House being a member of the nefarious Business Council at the end of the TV show, which means that the House of Fallout: New Vegas makes the statement knowing full well it's a transparent lie, because writing coherent settings is hard.

Finally, the downfall of the NCR doesn't happen because of their refusal to learn the lessons of the past, it happens because Hank is big sad Rose left him for Shady Sands. Perfectly fine for the message of the Vault-Tec executive who saw other people as little more that guinea pigs for social experiments to destroy an entire civilization in a fit of pique, but that undermines the message of the NCR pursuing the same relentless jingoism that the United States to have them be destroyed. Because providing a satisfying payoff is hard.

Thanks for the question, Ikac.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[giaseed]

I’m a die hard playlist maker for all the media I consume and I’ve had so much fun finding hints of Lucy and Cooper (for them independently and entwined) in the music I usually listen to and omg I love Mia Joy and listening to freak lately it’s so Cooper. Hear me out…

I'm not a freak on a leash

'Cause you burned me to set me free

It's not about will but I'm finding my own, finding my own path

You growled louder than me

You were set in your ways

I don't have to go to your parties

I'm not a freak on a leash

'Cause you burned me to set me free

It's not by ill will, but I'm finally setting my own path

And I've never seen a future like this

And I've never seen a future like this

It feels a lot like Cooper communicating to Barb about the anger he harbors for her devotion to Vault Tec’s corrupt cause. To be a “freak on a leash” you’re constantly within a never ending cycle of unresolved pain. He has spent 200 something years trying desperately to break this cycle. Not to mention that he may look like a “freak” due to his ghoulification, but his outward monster-like appearance is nothing in comparison to the monster hiding underneath Barb’s do-gooder personality that Coop valued so much. And in that she “growled louder” she’s set in her ways, and she burned him to set him free to become a wastelander seeking out answers and purpose (“finding my own path”) within a future landscape a past Cooper Howard could never imagine. I also found “I don’t have to go to your parties” too perfect. Not only did Coop literally hate being paraded at these parties for Vault Tec, but the “parties” are also Barb’s lies that he became wrapped up in. I love overanalyzing lyrics in the context of my obsessions.

[zahri-melitor]

The thing about working on a Tim-Robin focus reread is I’m now staring blearily at common fanon assumptions again and going “now where did you come from”, and today’s target is the weird as hell “Tim doesn’t think he’s part of the family, he’s just an EMPLOYEE you guys” nonsense, because Tim? Tim doesn’t think he’s part of the family? C’mon. There ISN’T an extended Batfamily as we understand it today without Tim.

Tim the Team-Up Robin is like 50% of how we ended up where we are now. (The other 50% is No Man’s Land of course, which solidified the larger supporting cast’s shape that allowed for future additions and had Bruce actually accept that he was stuck with *handwaves* everyone from here on out).

I mean. I just put together a list of Tim’s early-mid 90s team ups, and it’s like: Clyde Rawlins (sorry dude) and Shiva (Robin I); Helena Bertinelli (Robin III, Robin #6/Showcase ’94 #5-6 – Benedictions, Robin #17); Steph Brown (‘Tec #647-649, Robin #3-5, Robin #15); Azrael!John-Paul Valley (Prelude to Knightfall/Knightfall); Azbats!John-Paul Valley (Knightfall/Knightquest) (fun fact, Azbats is literally a canon nickname for him); Nightwing!Dick Grayson (Showcase ’93 #11-12, then regularly from Contagion onwards); Robin!Dick Grayson (Robin #10); Batman!Dick Grayson (Prodigal); Connor Hawke (Robin #25, Brotherhood of the Fist); Selina Kyle (who is really not thrilled about it) (Contagion). He works with Harold Allnut in the cave. He works with Barbara Gordon as soon as she starts giving Oracle assistance to the Bats (and is the first of the Bats to properly thank her for her work! Robin #30 is the first really good Tim-Babs moment). He goes out with Alfred Pennyworth as support in person (Robin II, Contagion). He works with Renee Montoya and Harvey Bullock when their investigations overlap. He seeks help from Ulysses Armstrong’s siblings to get Ulysses back in custody (Robin #19-20). He gets TOLD OFF by Bruce for his habit of just latching on to the nearest hero/anti-hero/villain who has a similar goal and going “cool, let’s work together”. Bruce gets SO grumpy over Tim just hanging out with Helena every time they cross paths and Tim and Alfred actively work to hide the fact he teamed up with Selina from Bruce (and you know that post about Bruce going “I have found a more acceptable partner for you” and showing Nightwing? That’s EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED when Bruce found out)

Tim’s anchoring or helping anchor MOST of the extended cast who we’d recognise as vigilantes under the Batfamily banner during the 90s, until Nightwing and BoP both get ongoing titles and take over handling part of the load. But there again, you have the central trio of Babs-Dick-Tim holding onto relationships with other characters that Bruce can’t or won’t manage, and they’re doing it as a little bonded triple unit all the way up to hmm somewhere around Identity Crisis and Infinite Crisis. (Except for Azrael. Poor JPV really is a red-headed step-child and nobody wants to play with him).

And then I recall that your average fanon Batfamily fan can identify only about half this list and is probably extremely confused by why Selina really doesn’t want to be teaming up with Tim back in the 90s and doesn’t realise that Tim had a close working relationship with HELENA before he had one with Dick. (I’d forgotten that Tim and Helena were at “team up every time we cross paths” stage before Prodigal happened and Dick decided that he had a new little brother now, thank you very much, until I mapped all this out)

[loll3]

✷ 0 ~ the Fool || Major Arcana ©Lolle (2024) 🤍🌚✨

• I'm happy to announce, that I finally started working on a Tarot themed illustration series ✌🏻 this actually is a project that I've in mind from ages! I always been fascinated by Tarots, and they always influenced and inspired my art…so, it's pretty obvious that making a my own deck always been one of my most desired goals! ✨✨

👉🏻 this illustration is the result of a course that I'm currently attending see details below, and I'm only at the beginning of a really long path…I honestly don't know if (or when) I'll be able to complete the whole series (this is a long and demanding project…) but I decided to proceed one step at a time, focusing on one figure by one (I'm already working on the second Arcane)…the goal for now is to complete the major Arcana series of 22 illustrations, and I really hope I'll be able to do that! 🤞🏻 so…send me good vibes!!

*the whole series should also have a common thread that will bound all the 22 figures…the theme I chose is "Medieval Kingdom" *

- - - - - - - -

the Fool ©Lolle (2024) || media : pilot g-tec 0.4, pilot hi-tecpoint 0.5, sakura micron (different sizes) on Canson Imagine 200gr mix media paper || ©please, don’t use/modify without permission • don’t repost without credits ♡

- - - - - - - -

✧ Tarot Course details : "Illustration for Tarot: Crafting Your Signature Style" a course by Elisa Seitzinger || hosted by Domestika 🌿