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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 2 years ago

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Reign down on me - Part 4

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt

-🐺-

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, mutt?”

Your breaths were coming in hard pants, your body was worn to shreds. It took everything in you to look up at the angry face above, and when you finally mustered enough strength to tilt your head, you were met with deeply disapproving eyes. For once they didn’t rattle you, you’d already seen something so much worse.

“She’s dead,” you murmured, looking back down at the empty eyed body across from you.

“And you’re about to be too if you don’t get yourself together, stupid dog!”

You’d been yanked up and forced to keep running, shoved out in front of corners and into oncoming fire. It was a miracle you hadn’t joined your old teammate on the floor - not that you really saw it that way. You drew the enemy’s fire and allowed your current handler to get to exfil unharmed, you in your sorry hollow state had been shot in the chest, or the vest rather. Either way you were terribly struggling to breathe when you were eventually lugged along into the helicopter.

It was difficult to remember much in the days after that. Your memory was a blurry haze, tugged along and shoved into transport and various different rooms until you were abandoned in an infirmary to heal.

The main thing you remember is how the tiger girl you’d been fighting alongside had fallen, and no one else had batted an eye. She had been one of the best hybrids you’d worked with, someone the soldiers had clamoured to get onto your team, and none of them gave a shit when she’d died. The same girl that had so earnestly been teaching you and given you valuable advice for the field was no more than a few hazily remembered lessons and an empty vessel.

The thought burned in your mind when you’d laid on the hospital bed, keeping your eyes narrowed to tiny slits and your tail twitching as you recovered. You’d been too young to actually be assigned to a combat mission, but you’d been sent along with the unit that day because they thought they were doing a routine water run to a nearby village and they’d wanted you to observe.

Now you were marred with your first battle scar and laden with the knowledge that it didn’t matter how good you did - you’d be nothing more than a pile of bones left behind to rot.

“Move along, mutt!”

Maddox loomed over you and smacked you with his club, sending you sprawling as you refused to run his training drill. You’d since recovered and been cleared for work once more, but that was just what the doctors said. You had a different opinion entirely.

“I’m not doing this,” you said quietly, hefting yourself back up to a standing position.

“What?” Maddox’s voice came through in a chilling growl.

The sounds of the rest of the hybrid’s running the training exercise he’d set echoed all around you. You watched them scrambling around, flying through the course like clay pigeons, and blinked slowly. They were all just training to be better canon fodder. What was the point? You were all going to meet the same end, whether you died honourably fighting or were shot down into a pink mist from where you stood, no matter how good any of you were it wouldn’t matter. You’d all just die anyway.

“You heard me,” you growled, puppy voice still too young to actually have much of an impact.

Maddox wasn’t used to being defied. From day one you’d all tried to do what you could to appease him, had run around trying to make sure you weren’t drawing his ire. None of you liked his horrible booming voice when he scrambled at you, you were all afraid of his club and being at the receiving end of one of his thrashings. What was the point?

He looked incensed, he was the most angry you’d ever seen him. He smacked you a few more times, landing heavy blows onto your back, thighs and butt, but you weren’t anymore motivated to get going. Instead you lay uselessly on the ground and cried out, ears drawing back as you prepared for his worst.

“Get the fuck up! Do as you’re told, dog, no exceptions. Now move!”

You whined, but stayed where you were. Even while your back was on fire, even while he still beat dents into you, you didn’t feel anymore convinced to go along with any of it anymore. You just wanted to give up. To stop having to live through the pain, and just accept that it would be all there was.

In the back of your mind you registered that everyone had stopped running, could feel the ground stop rumbling with their desperate footsteps and had all stopped to watch the spectacle. Though you didn’t really think much about it.

It took a few more blows, but eventually Maddox seemed to recognise that you were quite happy for him to mash you into a fine pulp. His lesson wasn’t having any effect. So he left you on the ground and walked away a few paces, his shadow falling over your face and draping you with the weight of it.

You choked out a sob and watched as he addressed the room. His words weren’t immediately intelligible to you, you were too lost in your brain fog still. Everything was dull, and noises were like far away recordings playing on scratchy speakers. Your head was a swelling water balloon fit to burst.

“-see what happens when you decide you’re not going to do what your commanding officer tells you.”

Thwack.

You heard the sound, but you didn’t feel anything. You tilted your head, ears twitching confusedly as you tried to work out why the pain didn’t reach you. The sound of the wailing banshee scream following soon after clued you into why your bones weren’t rattling with anymore pain.

“Please, sir! Please!”

It was like a plastic sheet had been melted from your eyes. The white hot screech of the voice burned through you and you scrambled up with a shock, watching on with horror as one of your fellow hybrids was getting whacked like nothing else. A wheezing breath gushed in through your lungs and you screamed in unison with the poor boy, begging Maddox to please stop.

“Oh now you’re willing to plead for forgiveness? Now you’re ready to participate again? Watch and let this be a lesson - You don’t decide when you’re done! You do as you’re fucking told!”

“No! Please, no! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Sir. Please, please ple-”

-🐺-

“Hey, Pup, hey, shhh. Wake up, Pup.”

You felt raw, throat vibrating with the last of your unconscious screams, your mind raced as you struggled to register your surroundings. Soft lamplight bathed the room in a warm, hazy glow, and all around you were rumpled blankets, all thrown around the place in splatters of blue as if a tower of paint cans had exploded. Most startling of all though, was the behemoth of a man right in front of you; sitting on your bed and looking down at you with a worried expression.

You backed away to the wall when you finally noticed him, panting and growling like hell when you searched through your bleary mind and couldn’t recognise him. His eyes were like molten gems, his long face and pouting lips drawn into a picture of concern. There was something almost familiar about him, if you squinted and ignored the shock of blonde hair that gently curled on top of his head (something told you that you weren’t used to seeing that). The only thing that stopped you from jumping him immediately was the calming scent of citrus peels.

“Who the fuck are you?” you growled, curling your hands into fists. “What do you want with me?”

The man blinked slowly, his eyebrows raising from the gentle frown he’d been wearing and twitching up into surprise. He smiled uneasily then, the look seeming foreign on that big scarred up face, one of the scars at his lips puckered with the effort it took to move over the muscle.

“Shit, sorry. It’s me, it’s Ghost,” the man sighed, his accent washing over you like a warm wave. “Forgot my mask.”

You gasped, feeling all your muscles release their tension at once as you slid down the wall and into a weary slump. It was ok. He wasn’t some horrible soldier come to drag you away to a new mission, or an enemy looking to startle you before they bagged a kill. It was just Ghost, and Ghost was safe. And Ghost looked… well you were too tired to really get a solid grip on what you thought of how Ghost looked.

“What are you doing in here?” you asked, only speaking when you were confident you wouldn’t stutter.

“You were screamin’, Pup. You looked like you were fighting off possession or somethin’, that must’ve been some bad dream you were having,” Ghost said softly, gently running a hand over the top of your dewy head.

You gritted your teeth and used the butt of your palms to wipe the stray tears from your cheeks, still feeling your throat burn from all the shrieking. It had been a long time since you’d had one of those dreams, or rather memories, but you knew well enough you’d have been loud. You realised you’d probably woken him if he was coming to you bare faced.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, tail tucking between your legs in realisation.

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, bringing his hand down to stroke over your cheek. “I’ve woken up with plenty of those myself.”

“But you…you’ve shown your face to me when you didn’t mean to. I’m sorry,” you sighed, looking away guiltily.

Your toes curled and your body froze up, your instincts gone haywire as you tried to process what was happening. Was he going to punish you now? Would he beat you until you forgot what he looked like? You shuddered at the thought of your dreams piercing through into reality.

“No, don’t be sorry, darlin’. I’d have taken it off for you sooner or later anyway,” he shrugged.

You bit your lip, unconvinced that this was the case. Given that his team didn’t think much of the mask, it was clear that he wore it often. He probably didn’t like to be bare faced around other people. Maybe he wanted to keep his face a secret.

“Didn’t think it’d effect you this much,” he chuckled, chucking you under your chin. “I did warn you.”

“You warned me?”

“Mhmm. Told you I was bloody handsome.”

Nothing could help the snort that burst from your nose. That then descended into full blown laughter, your body lightening from the growing load that your mind posed. You wrapped your hands round your knees, in an attempt to contain the giggles, and only stopped when you saw the gentle smile that sprouted back onto Ghost’s lips.

“There you go. Better now, huh?”

You nodded slowly and smiled back at him. For some reason mirroring him felt like the easiest thing in the world. It was like a warm glow had burst from him to you, softening your sharp thoughts and turning your body to jelly. You’d be able to sleep again as if nothing had woken you, usually you would stay up until light broke through your curtains.

“You wanna talk about anything before I get back to my beauty rest?”

“No, I’m good,” you said hurriedly, not wanting to relive everything you’d dreamed again.

“Alright then…You get back to sleep, you’ve got another big day ahead. Try not to scare the piss out of me again for another few hours at least,” He sighed.

You nodded, scooting back over so that you could lie back at the head of your bed. However before you could angle yourself down, Ghost drew you into a side hug. At first you resisted it, curled your hands around his arm so that you could stop whatever harm might come your way, but when there was none. Your eyes grew heavier as he held you, his body heat seeped down into your bones and it tempted you ever deeper into the restful darkness.

You let your hands drop and nuzzled into him. There wasn’t anything to fear.

“S’my good, Pup,” Ghost mumbled, releasing you seconds later.

You sank into bed afterwards, falling into a deep sleep as if a switch had been flicked. There were no more disturbances after that.

-🐺-

“Not so hard, Steamin’ Jesus!”

Soap’s whizzed right past your ears like a bullet, you were too focused on getting to the target point. Paintballs splattered overhead, loud noises rang out from the speakers that’d been set up, and your heart was racing. Everything perfectly combined to drive you wild and send all coherent thought elsewhere. The only reason you stayed put behind your current cover was because you knew Ghost was watching - because of some foreign underlying need to make him proud.

“Johnny, you have to take control.”

“I’m fuckin’ tryin’! Your bloody sled dog has other ideas,” Soap huffed, growling down the line.

Ghost’s chuckle rattled around the comms like a swarm of bats. The ever present hand on the front of your neck dug into your collarbone a little, but still you persisted and pushed forward through the resistance. Soap had no idea what he was doing, had no idea how to control your advancement through the fake field.

“Sled dog tendencies aside, you’re not holding em’ right,” Ghost chastised. “Stop the exercise!”

The splat of the last paintball echoed dully around the room and all at once your more human senses returned. The sharp fuzz in your ears dissipated and the blurring at the edge of your peripheries came staggeringly back into focus. You almost sent Soap crashing when you stopped fighting his hold, though luckily for him he swivelled just in time to keep his feet on solid ground.

“Fuckin’ here we go,” Soap muttered, releasing your collar.

You frowned up at him in question, but you didn’t get an opportunity to wonder what he was so pissed about. Ghost jumped into the little arena he’d created and crossed the floor, patting your vest before he took a hold of you himself.

“You’re holdin’ Pup round the front like this,” Ghost said, sliding his hand around your collar to illustrate his point. “You’re just choking them and driving them forward to get away from ya’ or get to the checkpoint.”

“Because your precious little Angel keep’s growlin’ and turnin round when I hold the collar round the back like you do. I feel like I’m about to get my face rearranged again!”

Ghost sighed and put his hand on Soap’s arm, driving the other man to give a cursory glance down at you before fixing a hard look on the Lieutenant. There was no mistaking the sharp little shake of his head he gave, no matter how much he had tried to hide it. Ghost put his hand down, holding it up in mock surrender before it fell completely.

“It’s because you’re holding on too tight, Johnny,” Ghost explained, his voice growing softer. “You don’t have to. Pup won’t hurt you.”

“You sure about that?”

“Johnny,” Ghost growled. “Don’t say anything stupid, now.”

You looked up, alarmed at the tone Ghost was taking. You didn’t really blame Soap, or anyone else, for being afraid of you. A lot of people were - anyone who knew your reputation at least, and from that little comment you surmised that Soap was well aware of it. Though from the way Ghost was acting, it was as if Soap had told him he was going to shoot you. His eyes were stuck in a stormy glare and his full height was rigidly stretching up over the Sergeant.

“You know this is difficult for me,” Soap said, jaw as taught as a piano wire.

“I know…” Ghost sighed. “But it’ll only be harder if you keep going like this, learning to control a wolf the wrong way will only get you both hurt. You’ve gotta dig deep here, push past the bad memories. This one’ll never hurt you like that.”

“So you keep saying,” Soap grumbled. “Why don’t you try tellin’ them to fuckin’ behave when they’re being handled rather’n having a go at me.”

A creeping feeling of shame crept through your mind, suddenly you felt like a very small child in the middle of a fight between your parents. The tiny little voice you hadn’t heard in so long chimed just as true as it did then, They’re fighting about me again. Your ears folded back straight against your head and you leaned closer into Ghost, accidentally catching eyes with Soap as he registered your movement.

Soap’s eyes softened.

“It’s not that simple. I have a plan in the works though,” Ghost said carefully, shifting his gaze to you as he felt you press against him, and then back at Soap. “It’s gonna take a bit to undo years of shit training, yeah? I told you how it’d be before, those shitheads at Branhaven always train up hybrids to look as showy as possible for their superiors. That means they pull like crazy and bark and growl up a riot while they work because it looks effective and scary to the knobheads who don’t need to handle them. I need you all to learn how to handle Pup as they are now before I’ve worked with them, and then you’ll be prepared for anything…’sides, its always you n me together, Johnny, remember? Realistically you’re not gonna have to actually handle them on the field, you just need to be prepared to.”

The ‘Just in case’ that eluded his last sentence was silent.

The whole time you couldn’t help dwelling on the fact that Ghost was unusually…tender for a man in charge over the Sergeant. Normally when people bitched at the higher ups in your base they’d be shouted at and told to man up or fuck off. Ghost was actually explaining himself to Soap, trying to rationalise what he was doing as if he somehow owed it to him. He treated Soap like he treated you, ensuring he was able to calm down and trying to fill him in so he could take comfort in knowing what was happening.

The treatment seemed to work just as well on Soap as it did you. He huffed out a defeated breath and relaxed, looking from you to Ghost while the irate cloud above him dispersed and became lost in the gentle atmosphere.

“Fine. Can you show me what to do again?”

“Atta boy,” Ghost said, grin evident in his voice. “Hand here, and legs nice and stable. You need to keep moving forward at a nice even pace, you have to set the right speed. Soon as Pup tries to push on ahead, you grip the back of their neck like that.”

You growled as you felt Ghost put pressure on your scruff, instinctively feeling the work drive build up within you. He just shook his head and gave you an unamused stare for your efforts.

“The growling’s all just noise. Stupid noise,” Ghost said, intentionally setting his eyes on you, “but there’s no intention of threat behind it - not while we’re in charge.”

“What do you mean ‘not while we’re in charge’?” Soap asked, making a face.

“Pup won’t have any reason to hurt us. We’re not gonna go yanking tails and hitting like fuckin’ children when we don’t get our way.”

“Wh- y’mean that was a commanding officer that did that?” Soap asked, motioning to your crooked tail.

“Like I said - shit training. C’mon, take the collar.”

Soap didn’t quite look like he’d recovered from the shock of being told about your tail. He gingerly reached out and took your collar with a frown set heavily into his face. You wondered if it was because he really pitied you that much, or if it was because he thought you might take out your anger on him. You leaned more toward the latter reasoning. Despite his reservations though, he was able to do as Ghost asked this time.

“Good, that’s it, Johnny.”

Soap visibly puffed up from the praise. His grip on you tightened. He was more sure of himself now, he marched ahead and set you into an even pace, the rhythm catching onto your feet contagiously. Naturally there were still a few moments where you wanted to pull forward and rush through, but now that Soap was placing his trust in Ghost’s intuition, you were gently guided into keeping within his step.

“Good Pup, keep it up!”

Soap didn’t immediately latch onto what Ghost had told him about your growling, he still wrenched himself back a few times after correcting you. The horrible tractor-like sound would comically twist his features. However this time, he was actually able to get to the checkpoint with you. Then after a few more trials, you were both flying down the course, high on Ghost’s praises and untouched by any paintball that tried to come your way.

After the fourth time he called for a break, roughly crossing his hands into a T shape while he doubled over and panted and puffed for air. His signature sage scent wafted strongly from him now, invading your senses and forcing you back a step or two.

A discreet smile stole its way onto your face, a smug one if you were honest. There was a steady tension starting to warm in your legs, but you were no where near over extension. Apparently all the breakfast and rest you’d gotten had done you wonders, because you felt like you could keep going all day and all night, maybe longer than that. It made you wonder if maybe Price and Ghost didn’t have a point to all the nice things they were doing for you afterall.

“You did well, Soap,” Ghost chuckled, wandering back onto the course with a swagger to his step. “You too, Pup. Reckon you’ll be nice and warmed up for Price and Garrick now.”

“Christ, Pup’s gonna do this two more times?” Soap asked, looking over at you in wonder.

“Mhmm,” Ghost hummed.

“You not tired?” Soap asked, directing his question toward you..

You laughed at that, unsure as to why he’d be so shocked you were going to keep going. Normally you’d spend your whole days training when you weren’t on an active mission. Running and sparring were practically all you knew. If you were to tire out early, you’d be punished for it, blamed for not getting enough sleep or not eating your shitty MREs. Stopping wasn’t in the equation.

“I can go all day,” you shrugged.

“Christ, and they tell me I’m hyperactive.”

-🐺-

Overall impressed with your performance that day, Ghost had insisted on dragging you out to a shopping villiage, or as you now thought of it - a torture desensitisation arena. Even later on at night, there were so many people around: screaming children that were moaning about being tired and hungry, teenagers laughing like hyenas, couples arguing over what they should and shouldn’t spend their money on. It didn’t help that there were so many busy shop fronts as well, colours and flashing lights and products you wouldn’t even know what to do with. It was a circus of too many stimuli and you were stuck at it’s roaring centre, sticking to Ghost like a fly on tape.

As soon as he’d parked up you’d demanded to know why he’d brought you there, not able to help the rising panic at being taken somewhere new. He’d explained that it was time to buy you some much needed casual clothes. Personal items. At the mention of that dreaded subject, you’d tried to protest and remind him about getting your brand new stack of clothes from the quartermaster, but Ghost had just snorted and said that he wasn’t taking you everywhere in your uniform. He didn’t care for the looks it would get him - said the man wearing a black medical skull mask over his face.

Undeterred by your saying that he didn't need to waste money on you, Ghost all but yanked you into all clothes shops, leading you by the hand and forcing you to pick casual clothes that you liked from the small selection the hybrid sections offered. It was an exercise made to humiliate, you’d thought, you had no idea how to pick clothes for yourself that weren’t standard issue - had no idea what colours and materials and fits went together with what. He’d made you pick what felt good in the end, said that Soap had told him the important thing was picking something comfortable - it didn’t narrow your search by very much.

Propelled by the thought of getting to leave if you just compiled, you eventually settled on some blue vans trainers, a cosy pullover hoodie, two new pyjama sets, a couple of pairs of jeans and a few T-shirts that weren’t too adventurous - save for the one that had some illustrated plants on it. Even that little amount felt like far too much, overwhelming you with how much choice you’d have when your promised downtime would come. Though every time you asked if you’d picked enough, Ghost would just fix you with a stony look that told you to keep going.

Then as if that wasn’t enough, he took you over to a bookshop as well, claiming you needed something to entertain yourself with in your downtime. Even when you told him you’d managed alright up till that point. However, when you were left to explore so that Ghost could go pick something for himself, it wasn’t the books there that you were most taken by.

“What’ve you got there then?”

You froze, shoulders bunching as you heard Ghost’s voice softly break your awed silence and looked guiltily down at the little puppy teddy you were holding. You weren’t supposed to be looking at that- that’s what you figured when you saw his shadow cross your path. A picture of his sneering face crossed your mind’s eye, darkened by that unruly blonde fringe of his.

What were you supposed to say to him? After blankly looking at a few of the books, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over to the little displays of plushies, and had slowly gravitated toward it when you saw the little dog that was now in your hands.

The dog’s fur was so unbelievably soft and its little spotted face reminded you of one of your favourite cartoons from when you were small. It called out to you and lured you in with the reminder of some old theme song that played in your head, made you pick it up and stroke its squishy black and white tummy with a smile plastered all over your face.

“I got distracted, sorry,” you murmured, gently placing it amongst its spotted siblings.

Ghost came round to your side and picked up the same puppy you’d been holding. You tilted your head in surprise and watched as he did the same as you, stroking the soft tummy while inspecting it. It looked comically smaller in his hands though, like a newborn pup.

“You want him?”

Your ears perked in surprise when he spoke. Finally you chanced a look up at him and felt your cheeks warm when you made eye contact, thoroughly embarrassed that you’d been caught. Though he didn’t look judgemental like you’d thought he would, instead he just stared at you earnestly over his black medical mask and gave you a chance to speak.

“I…um...” you weren’t sure what to say.

Of course you wanted him. Every little instinct in you wanted to take the toy and hold it and cuddle it and never let go. However that wasn’t the kind of behaviour befitting of a military class hybrid like you, and it was the kind of thing you’d have been endlessly mocked, if not punished for before.

Soldiers don’t cuddle their teddy bears and blankets, they make their beds quickly and efficiently and don’t concern themselves with such stupid frivolities!

“It’s not a trick question, Pup. No wrong answer,” Ghost supplied, holding the puppy out to you encouragingly.

You breathed out a sigh, but your chest didn’t feel any less heavy. Even if it was such a silly decision to make, it still felt like such a big undertaking. If you said yes and took it, would Ghost think less of you? You already thought less of you for wanting it. You were already filled with judgement, the voices of all the superiors that had ever disciplined you mocking you in one big evil choir.

Stupid little baby wolf.

You whined, but even despite yourself, you took it and held it to your chest.

“Hey, you deserve to have things of your own, that’s what tonight��s all about,” Ghost said, gently setting his hand on your shoulder as he did so. “You deserve to exist outside of the military, to be more than a war dog. If this makes you happy, then we should get ‘im.”

You wanted to keel over then as you rolled your eyes, let your whole body collapse with the motion. This dog at least was a simple decision in terms of what you liked, much easier than when you’d been standing in front of all those dreaded clothes racks, but it didn’t make finalising it any easier. Not when your feelings were colliding like waves against a harbour wall, one side seemingly solid while the other corroded it.

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“I’m not supposed to want things like this,” you mumbled, holding the teddy out in front of yourself again like it was some kind of alien object.

“Why not?” he chuckled.

“Because it’s for children,” you said dryly.

“It’s not for children,” he scoffed. “There’s no rules on who gets to buy cuddly toys. Anyway, you clearly want the little fella, so we’re getting him.”

You frowned, looking confusedly down at the dog again.

“But It’s a distraction…All of this stuff is,” you uttered, feeling Maddox’s voice speak through you like a spell had been cast. “It’ll take my mind off important things and get everyone hurt.”

You thought back to the kid in the bunk next to you, the one that had cried on the first day because they couldn’t have their teddy bear to sleep with. Maddox had lectured you all then and there, almost shouting the fur off your ears, saying that hybrid soldiers couldn’t let anything get in the way of them functioning. Needing a teddy bear to sleep wouldn’t fly when you were overseas and catching bullets because you were sleep deprived, reading books to escape your miserable new lives would get you killed when your heads were still stuck in them, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

“You don’t think we all need distractions sometimes?” Ghost asked. “Distractions make life worth living, and you’re no less deserving of that than anyone on the team. Don’t you think?”

You didn’t have an answer for that. In fact, you were arguing a point that wasn’t even yours. So, in response, you shrugged and traced one of the puppy’s patches.

“I think you care about me like…a weird amount,” you mumbled.

“A weird amount?” Ghost scoffed, hiding a crinkly eyed smile behind his mask. “Why’s it weird to care about you, huh?”

You shrugged again.

“Ok, listen. You’ve been all twisted up by those idiots at your last base and I want you to know that I’m not gonna legitimise a single thing that they’ve taught you. This is what it’s going to be like now, this is what you get for coming in everyday and working your arse off. The fact that you’ve been given no compensation and been run so badly into the ground by those cretins is nothing short of appalling. Believe me when I tell you that I know it’s not as simple as flicking a switch and getting used to good treatment - it won’t happen just because I tell you it’s all over now and I understand that. Just…let me give you a little bit of comfort, yeah? Just to show you how things should be. Just enjoy a distraction or two and see that it won’t be life ending, and it’s not gonna get taken away from you. I promise you’ll be fine”

Your throat was too thick with emotion to answer. So instead of making a fool out of yourself you nodded your assent and looked down at your new prize with wonder. How long had it been since you’d owned something that didn’t have any function or use on the battlefield? How long since you’d held something so soft?

“Now…did you actually look at any books or did you just stand and bully yourself for wanting something nice?”

You jumped when Ghost’s grizzled voice sounded out and brought your mind back to task, shaking your head of all your musings. Choosing books - right. All at once, the multicoloured aisles came back to view and all the people in them, the room filled out around you and made you hold your puppy down low at your side and out of view.

“Yeah, I um- I think I found something cool.”

-🐺-

That night Ghost let you stay up in bed for a little bit to read. Leaving you nestled in your swarm of blankets sitting side by side with your new friend as the plush sat up against the pillows with you. Your eyes poured over the artwork of your new graphic novels in wonder, admiring the bold colours and thick lines, turning the glossy pages ever so slowly as if your heart would stop beating when you got to the end of the book.

When you ended the first chapter you smiled down at the little dog rather childishly and bit your lip. It was silly to name inanimate objects, it didn’t take someone standing over you and shouting at you to know that, though you couldn’t help it when the name seemed to cling to him with an unshakable grip. Simon. You’d name him Simon after the main character in the story. It seemed to suit the little black and white dog just as much as it did the hybrid boy, and now there was no changing it - unfortunately for you.

#simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader #reign down on me

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typewritingyip · 2 months ago

Text

The Arcturus Missions

Part Forty Two - Soldier Executioner

Part Forty One

———

Flight simulation was initially used in Europe, though not as it is today, during the years before and leading up to the First World War the precursors to flight simulation were coming about. With ground training for air assaults and sky shooting taking place.

The first proper flight simulator was used in Binghamton, New York starting in 1927. Creating an airplane-like shell that sat atop a device that would offer some similar cues to actual air flight. Becoming known as the Link Trainer.

Starting in World War Two, over five hundred thousand new pilots from the allied nations were trained using the Link Trainer, for both major fronts.

In 1954, United Airlines purchased four flight simulators to start the modern era of simulations. Everything from airplanes, to helicopters, race cars and now mech suits.

Generally, simulators are used as a training tool to familiarize the user with the cockpit they will be attending, the procedures they will be following and emergency situational response.

Like flight simulators, mech suit simulators are not much different. A connecting point between the experienced pilots and the rookies, the recently compatible, the constant need to learn and adapt to the new scenarios they would be facing.

Unlike flight simulators, the only way to use a simulator effectively is once the connection system, known as the implants, has been placed within the pilot. A proper connection is necessary for a comprehensive understanding of the system, emergency codes, and errors that every pilot will face in the field.

Not that they might face, but that they will face.

Simulators are key to all pilots' experiences, whether in flight or the fight.

It just so happens that learning to fly a plane is only slightly different from learning to operate a mech unit. All stepping from the same idea of teaching soldiers how to kill moving targets.

—

The further in he got, the worse he felt, this horrible feeling of homesickness which he’d been able to kick pretty early on was hitting him like a truck now. Deep in the depths of the enemy spaceship reminded him of the pilot simulators back home, being strapped in and having everything thrown at you.

Down to one arm and a prayer, Hound kept moving slowly, gun raised and ready. Finger never leaving the trigger.

All the walls were oozing and suddenly he was grateful to be breathing from oxygen tanks rather than the air around him. Who knew what sort of undiscovered toxins were aboard.

Slowly turning down a different path, his gun comes up and fires upon a Quintesson. The thing shrieks more out of rage than pain which was never a good sign, “Come on then!” Running forward, Hound slams into the enemy face first. Lodging his gun up close, he fires point blank into the alien.

His visor tunneled and swearing, he fired quickly, slamming his empty shoulder into the side of the thing as pain shot through his implants.

The voices in his ears weren’t real, at least not in the context that he was currently hearing them but they were louder than the current noise around him. Even the roar of the Quintesson.

“God damnit Hound, your scores just aren’t good enough!” Kup’s voice was always painfully loud and demanding, he was a great commander but it sucked when you were the one being yelled at, “I know that! I know,” He sighed shakily, staying in the sim, kicking the Quintesson on its beak.

In the rig, he was thankful Kup couldn’t rest a hand on his shoulder, eyes flicking around urgently. Even just starting out, being a hunter took a lot more focus than being a striker did. They could stumble around blindly in the dark without reprimand, the hunter class had to be precise and know their next move before it was possible to.

Even at this point, Kup had been an old school pilot, multi-class before that had been thought possible, the man was ancient in Hound’s eyes. It was late 2002, if he could recall it right, he’d been twenty then and Kup had felt older than dirt.

The banging on the sim door did not help as he tore open a Quintesson, data running through the corner of his vision at the sim picked up data, “You need to focus on the fight! Not the simulation, you need to trick your mind into thinking you’re actually out on that field!” Growling, Hound’s gun fired into the carcass on the floor of the ship before running forward.

His mentor saw more potential in him than he even saw in himself, one of his many mentors, just another ex-military pilot that tried pulling at his heart strings. Hound’s focus was deadlier than any other standing hunter class, the most kills within the same amount of time and holding the record for the moment.

Simulation hours were near triple of the next closest pilot, he stunk of desperation. This was beyond a calling, this was his life.

Swearing, Hound shoots as another Quintesson appears from around the corner, the ship is a maze. He wasn’t sure if that was the reality or the simulation of it all, “Focus Hound! You can’t let another pilot die under your watch, striker or not!” His gun attached itself to his wrist, just as his fist collided with the Quintesson, bare foot slamming down on a pair of tentacles.

“Shut up!” His gun slid back into place and he fired until the barrel was red hot. Splattered with green, he was heaving for breath, “That’s better Hound, much better.” Kup’s voice seemed to wander away, fading as his vision became clear again. No longer the artificial view from the simulator.

No, he was just standing in a hall on the Quintesson ship, alone except for the corpses he was leaving in his wake.

Trying to shake off the feeling of the hallucination, he took slow and deep breaths. Unstrapping his mask while closing his eyes, grabbing up his water, his gun sliding back to his wrist. His other arm effectively dead to the world and to his current use, it was numb too.

He drank deeply, eyes closed and trying to breath, his skin crawled. He hadn’t thought of the old man in ages, he’d love to be on an alien planet fighting Quintessons. More than anything. Smiling a bit, Hound opens his eyes and swears as a Quintesson helps him to the floor.

Help he did not want.

Digging his fingers into the tentacles trying to wrap themselves around him, Hound grit his teeth, “You know, I am sick and tired of you.” And he pulled the tentacles free from the alien’s body, quickly whipping them back at it. It shrieked from pain and Hound grinned wolfishly.

—

His back hit the ship hard, as his leg caught one of the tentacles whipping around towards him and Jazz, “Fuck you!” Pulling his leg down and twisting it, he pulls the tentacles trying to pin him to the ship free.

The Quintesson shrieks never got any less painful on the ears, even Jazz’s slightly manic laughter was easier on the ears. Talk about a pilot who lived and breathed for this stuff, even without bracers or a gun, he was a natural at taking these things apart. Piece by piece if he had to.

Bringing his arms up, the next hit split open the attacking Quintesson, splattering him green, “We have a real shitty job, you know that?” He glances over his shoulder, able to lumber up while wailing on the Quintesson, “You either love it or hate it, live or die, it’s still your choice Sides.” Jazz’s response was cool, followed by another wicked laugh.

He had a hard time plating the feet of his suit, the ship a weird mix of metal and flesh, something that made his skin crawl. Getting upright with a yell, he throws himself at another Quintesson. Bracers coming down hard against its shell-like exterior.

It cracked open with his hit, splatting more of his suit in green and he couldn’t help but grin. Maybe this isn’t the career he would have chosen for himself, but he was thrilled to be here.

After a moment, his comm began to ping again, answering, he grunts and swings around, “Yell-o.” He was breathing heavily, “Is there any update?” His heart almost stopped, swinging around, he gasped. The panic tried to grab at his throat again, “Elita, uh, no.” Turning back he yells and collides with the next Quintesson, shoving it hard as Jazz jumps over head, grappling one above him.

“I can’t get through to Optimus or anyone right now, other than you. So what’s going on?” He swings back out and nearly falls, shaking again, staring at the comm-line for a moment before disconnecting it, “I can’t focus on you right now, I’m sorry.” The weakness in his voice almost shattered him.

Tearing at his heart strings, he kept going, tearing apart the Quintessons he could get his hands on. Pushing down the panic and fear and sadness as much as he possibly could. It was right there, bubbling under the surface, collapsed buildings and calm voices trying to reassure him as if he were the one who needed it.

No, not again, he wouldn’t fail like that again.

Yelling, he grabs two Quints by their tentacles and starts to whip them around, “This planet is under our protection!” He slams them into the side of the ship as Jazz falls back into his back, holding off another Quint, he glanced over, “And we’re not going down without a fight, right Sides?” Nodding, he yelled again as he ripped the limbs from them.

With a kick, they flew right into Breakdown’s booming blasts.

”This is for our bar, damn you!” Him and Jazz moved in near sync, turning together and striking the approaching enemy.

They were everywhere. They were surrounded.

On the highest point in the area, the one place they shouldn’t be.

Why was that so familiar?

His bracers were normally blue and nearly glowing, a special alloy from home made of iron and the metal off of Quintesson ships. His plating was normally red, like the car his father had driven around for the better part of their childhoods. Both were covered in green gore, blocking out the familiar and comforting colors.

Jazz was in no better state, the white and blue were also soaked green but the tint to his visor, that paired with the laughter, this was serious. More than he had thought originally.

Fuck.

—

Even from a distance, he could tell things weren’t going well. Holy shit, things were honestly going very badly. The longer Jazz and Sideswipe were on the ship, the more Quintessons seemed to pull themselves from the wreckage.

Strapping his oxygen mask back on, Sunny tried his hardest not to gag again or worse, he’d have to deep-clean his suit when all of this was said and done. They were terrible about holding onto stains and things. He could remember having to learn how to clean a cockpit on one coated in blood.

It was how he learned he was squeamish.

With slow and deep breaths, he brings his helmet's additional hud display up, bringing focus back to the outside and not the inside. Iacon came back into clear view and it still looked horrible.

Keeping his back to Breakdown’s, he couldn’t help looking back over his shoulder, wincing when the cannon got too loud, “BD, is there any sign of Hound yet?” He was still somewhere inside the ship, “No, nothing but static still.” Sighing, Sunstreaker looks around, “Still no sign of our backup either.” His hands were still shaking.

Honestly, his whole suit was still shaking, the panic was sitting below the surface and bursting out every few seconds. He wasn’t very useful at the moment, god, he felt pathetic. Without Blue at his own back he was panicking like a rookie, glancing back towards the ship he could see the shake in Sideswipe’s suit too.

They were all panicking.

That was so much worse.

Swearing quietly, he took slow breaths again, “God damnit.” Shaking his head a bit, he looks back at Breakdown.

Breakdown’s stance was steady, feet planted and cannon booming every few seconds, the barrel was starting to glow red which means he’d have to fall back soon. They’d have to fall back soon, which would either mean they’d be leaving Jazz and Sideswipe alone or they’d all leave Hound alone if backup didn’t show up.

Bad news, very bad news.

“Sunstreaker, we need to fall back.” Breakdown’s voice was heavy with grief, shifting his stance slightly, “As soon as my cannon overheats, we’ll be overrun and no help to Jazz and Sideswipe. Do you think they would fall back?” Taking a breath, he shakes his head, “No, they’ll want to wait for Hound, won’t they?”

He turns and his eyes widen, grabbing Breakdown around the middle and pulling him back as Seeker fire sprays across the ground between them and the fallen ship, “Fuck!” They both stumble and fall with a loud crash.

Breakdown’s suit was so much heavier than his, the crush alerts popping back up for the second time that day. His head slammed into the side of his piloting chair, knocking around in the helmet. Now he really wasn’t going to be able to fight, his vision swimming again.

Groaning painfully, he tries to get his weight back under him, “Breakdown, you’re crushing me.” Their suits groaned and scraped. Metal screeching loudly against their ears as they tried to get up.

More blaster fire rained down on the ship and they scrambled for the alleyway, his back hit the wall while trying to refocus his cameras back towards the ship. Jazz and Sideswipe were still fighting, shouting at each other and likely on comms with the seekers above.

A hand came down on his shoulder, “We need to fall back, try to get a different vantage point.” Nodding a bit, he pings Sideswipe, it pings three times before his voice comes through, “I’m a bit busy to talk Sonny!” Sighing a bit, Sunny stared towards his brother, “Breakdown and I are having to fall back, his cannon is overheated.”

“Jazz and I aren’t going to leave Hound behind, you two need to get clear. There’s so many of them around for you both to be unarmed.” His mouth was dry, but he nodded, “We’re going to intercept the backup and get them here, just, hold them off.” Sideswipe looked towards him, saluting lightly.

Sighing, Sunny looked to Breakdown, “Come on, we’ve gotta hurry.” Helping the bigger mech back up, they started down the alley at as close to a run as a tanker could go.

His gut twisted again painfully, this day was getting worse the longer it dragged on, and they were losing light.

Seekers screamed overhead while they rushed between buildings.

—

There was something deeply morbid about this but what else was he supposed to do, leave it behind? Sunny couldn’t exactly fight Quintessons while carrying around his arm and Knockout would kill him if it got any further damage. It was bad enough he was the one carrying it.

No, now he was holding the arm of Sunstreaker’s suit, yellow paint scraped off, and dripping what he thought was oil. His digits were brushing over the back of the severed servo, lost in thought.

It was beyond morbid, the only amount of peace that he had with it was the fact that he knew Sunny wore the suit for these moments, to not blow off his own little limbs. His tanks rolled unpleasantly, continuing to brush his digits over the servo with his optics watering.

This was the first time in ages, since the last war he was pretty sure, that he recognized the stench of fear. It hit him like a metal beam falling on his head, which had happened more than he’d like to admit with the day he was having, but it had been almost a thousand stellar cycles since he smelt this. This was Iacon under attack and they were hiding under the ground.

It was horrible.

Humans were bags of organic squish and yet they were the ones up on the surface, fighting their shared enemy like it was no big deal. As if a building hadn’t fallen on their heads and they just got back up to fight again while the rest of them came to cover their wounds.

The arm continued to drip oil onto the unfinished floor.

Hanging his helm and venting slowly, he tried to stop the rapid spinning of his spark, the roiling of his tanks, the anxiety was going to dismantle him.

Prowl’s voice was the only thing keeping him calm, low and nearly unregistered in his audials, optics flickering as he was running the number along with the logistics. Their backup should be arriving soon, but there were delays. There were always delays in Iacon now.

“Prowl, is there an update?” His voice was quiet, not wanting to disturb the others. Whether Mirage who looked like he was dealing with some processor damage, or Optimus who was holding lightly to Megatron’s unconscious helm, or Knockout who was still working on the Lord Protector.

He vented slowly and shook his helm, and Blue clutched tighter at the servo, “No, Soundwave is having an issue getting nearby commands in place. Same with Blaster. There are a few other scouting ships on planet.” Nodding slowly, Bluestreak looks up at the ceiling above them.

Every few seconds they could hear the distant booms of Breakdown’s cannon.

It was so familiar to them now, quartex or two of battle together had put that back into his processor.

Venting, he offlines his optics for a long time, just clutching Sunstreaker’s servos, those servos and Prowl’s voice were grounding to him.

When the booming stopped, it was hard to register but his optics shot immediately to the ceiling, “Something is wrong.” His voice was quiet and Prowl nodded slowly, “Breakdown and Sunstreaker are falling back according to the Seekers, Jazz and Sideswipe are fighting on top of the crash, Hound is not visible on the battlefield.” They briefly shared a look.

That was not good, Hound would do anything for his crew and had done so in the past, the fact he was missing from the field either meant he was down or he was doing something incredibly stupid.

”Scrap.”

—

He felt like hell but was still grinning, nearly evilly. The silence was a lot and it was tearing at his mind, but he kept moving, gun back up and scanning for the enemy.

The disconnect from the outside was bad, he had no idea what was going on outside, but he kept coming across patrols in the halls and handled them with the practiced ease of a tenured pilot. One on an alien planet, but still.

Turning down yet another hallway, Hound takes a breath, two Quints at the end of the hall and what appeared to be a door. First one he’d see in the whole ship, he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing but for the moment they didn’t see him.

Every instinct he’d gotten from being in the military said to shoot them as much and often as he could, being a striker class said the same, but neither were as strong as his old unlocked coding. It was showing him each subtle movement he could make to get closer before attacking and his gun slid back to place against his arm.

Drawing the barrel of his gun from his leg, he shifts the grip and starts stalking down the hall, moving far too quietly for a suit as big as his. It wasn’t until he was about half way down did they notice him, snapping the barrel to the other side of his wrist, his gun came back forward and he fired four shots, two into each Quintesson in rapid succession.

The reverberation was killer even in his suit but it didn’t matter, what did was the lack of green splatter. In all the months he’d been using this gun, it had never not pierced the skin of a Quintesson. Now was not the moment to dwell on that though, rushing forward, his gun pressed to the beak of one and fired as many times as he could pull the trigger while kicking the other across its face.

It was the second that snagged his leg while the first shirked from the burns and gun fire, only oozing the familiar green gore. Sliding the gun back to his magnets, he digs into the hole he’d created and pulls hard.

With a Quintesson shrieking in his ear, he lets go and grabs up the one holding his leg, pulling it towards him with a shout of his own, hurling it into the wall. Turning back to the one who was now bleeding again, he adjusts his stance, “I don’t have all day, we do this now or never.” With a shriek it lunged for him.

His fist connected with its eye first, which honestly made his skin crawl. It was one of the few places pilots had the hardest time with, the typical gore they could handle but this was always a last resort.

Fluorescent gore splattered out, across his plating and the walls as Hound grabbed the edge of the now bare eye socket before bringing his foot up to cave in the rest of its face. It takes three more firm kicks than it typically did to do so, Hound grunting with the effort.

”What the hell are you things?” The first one crumbled to the floor and he spun back around to the second, now being the one slammed into the wall instead of the Quintesson. It shrieked painfully loudly, especially when he stopped on one of it’s tentacles, throwing his empty shoulder into its face.

They were denser than the typical Quintesson, heavier, as Hound throws the weight of his suit into it and nearly falls on his face.

Swearing, he draws his gun and fires up under its jaw, “Damnit, you're strong. Megatron would have loved to kill you.” He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, he sure as hell didn’t want to be fighting these things on his own. Green splattered over his arm which he lodged the gun further up the hole he was making.

It was a rather disgusting job they had.

Only when his gunfire was going straight through did he stop and pull back, panting from the effort. The fight had started only a meter or two from the doors, they were almost back where he started when he’d turned down the hall.

”What the hell.” This was turning bad news to worse, starting back down the hall as a few pieces of plating fell away from his leg, pausing, he bent to pick them back up. Holding them, he goes to the doors and smiles a bit, knocking, “Knock knock, anyone home?” Chucking a bit, he deactivates the door lock with a switch kick to the panel.

The main cabin was small, very small compared to everything else he had been through. Monitors all around showed the area around the ship and a few views of Iacon from above. He stopped to stare for a while, and worse turned into doomsday.

There was a Quintesson in there, of course, which he quickled used the dislodged leg plating in his lands to cut the tentacles, flying towards him, off. Running forward, pushing his suit hard, his gun slides back into place and he fires. Splattering the console green.

Taking slow and deep breaths, Hound heaves, bending and pressing his hands to his knees, “Oh god.” He breathes slowly, pushing himself back upright and going to the console. Trying to wipe off the gore from the dead alien, he had no idea what to do except pull the main disk and shoot the console.

It was a better solution than nothing.

After a minute, he finds the main part of the console and dislodges it. His comms screamed back to laugh and he yelled, “Ow! Fuck,” turning it down, he presses his hand to the side of his head even as voices crackle back to life, “Hound! Are you in the control room?” Sideswipe’s voice was painful after the silence.

Rubbing his helmet, he swore again, “Yes, I am, has backup showed up yet?” Dragging the console piece away, he pulls free some wires and the closest thing that would resemble a computer.

”No, not yet, we’re still fighting out here and they just keep coming out.” Sighing, Hound shook his head and looked to the monitors again which were filled with static, “Wonderful.” Opening his cockpit, he sets the hard drive inside carefully, followed by the pieces of his leg plating that would fit.

He got slammed back into the console as the cockpit closed, turning, he kicked out against whatever was attacking him.

It didn’t look like any type of Quintesson he’d ever seen, then again, they didn’t typically carry weapons or stand on two feet, “Fuck.” And it grinned.

———

A/N

Oh my god, this chapter took me a week to write. My life has been nuts and this took so long.

(It honestly probably took the normal time, but I never had a spare minute this week)

So. I’ll explain some of what’s going on in my life, then what happens with Hound in this chapter. :)

Last Thursday/Friday, I found out I got into my local Law School, so I am finally on the path to becoming a lawyer. Saturday, I went to see Thunderbolts* which has been eating my brain ever since and I have had to fight tooth and nail to not write Marvel fanfic. Sunday, was not a great day I had to deal with a bunch of paperwork stuff. Monday, my sister was home all day so I was spending most of the day with her. Tuesday, had to catch up on what I hadn’t done around the house on Monday. Wednesday, just didn’t write and was in a funk. Yesterday, I had a job interview and my sister was home again. Then today I finished the chapter.

So… yeah.

Now, Hound and the pilots have spent their careers fighting Quintesson Scouts. The big flying light weight aliens who survey. They are fighting a mix of Scouts and Soldier's in this moment, like the ones Hound fought outside the command room. And the last one is an executioner, who they have never seen before. So next chapter might be a bit of fun.

TAGS

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscrapheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare @ham4ponyo @osqindaxend @sunnyvibesanddoodles @ratatatata248 @ijustneedausernaneplease4444444 @sprook-children @fooolisher

And once again thank you to @Keferon for this amazing AU

#Transformers #maccadam #tf mecha universe #tf mecha au #mecha pilot jazz au #mech pilot jazz au #the arcturus missions #Hound #Breakdown #Sunstreaker #Sideswipe #Jazz #Prowl #Bluestreak

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junosmindpalace · 10 months ago

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Hi, loved your last dcst headcanons, so here's another idea.

We all know that they the team travelled by ship the most. Well, how about a modern AU, characters (Ryusui, Senku, Tsukasa, Ukyo, any others you like) taking their s/o /friend on a trip?

Like, method of transport, why would they decide to do it, what will they do at the destination. If that's not too specific, of course.

hi there! thank you for your request! i love imagining the dcst characters pre petrification in modern era !!

SENKU:

When Senku suggests trips, they can be mostly last minute and pretty unexpected.

He’s mostly hush hush about all the details as he plans it, which is evident when Taiju found out last minute about his plans to go to Africa.

It’s almost the same for you, but with a little bit more of a heads up so he knows how to prepare.

Nevertheless you’re still caught off guard when he randomly suggests or asks if you’d want to come on a trip somewhere with him, usually motivated by an experiment or scientific curiosity.

As for the destination, I think it depends. We know he’s not below just keeping his locations to some place locally. Dude is traveling all over the world on impulse.

So you’re really trying your best to predict whether or not you’ll be flying over to the next continent or taking a train ride when Senku suggests a trip.

Method of transportation also depends on the destination. Again, if it’s somewhere faaaar far, plane is the way to go. If it’s within the country, however, you’ll mostly likely be taking some trains.

The destination itself, no matter what it is, is also something that will always leave you surprised. Whether it’s some remote place or a museum or whatever it is that is the source of Senku’s curiosity, most of the time Senku is going with a clear idea of what information he wants to get. So he’s primarily focused on that.

But he encourages you to find amusement for yourself, too, and would absolutely love it if you helped him with his research.

RYUSUI:

Hou boy, where even to begin with Ryusui and travel.

Method of transportation is obviously the first thing I have to talk about; you’ll be traveling first class, absolutely luxuriously, no matter where it is you’re going. Could be a ten minute trip into some place locally and you’ll still be getting the best accommodations money can buy.

Whether it be on a plane, train, or bus, or one of the Nanamis’ personal jets and helicopters and what not, you’ll be smooth sailing (literally and figuratively) the entire way. Ryusui might also be pretty eager to take you on his ship once it finishes, so be prepared for some eager talking and insistence to come along with him, and even more eager captaining.

The destination itself, similarly to Senku, can be pretty spontaneous, or at least it seems that way to a lot of people. He’s quite used to suddenly springing up trips he wants to take; he probably has the means to up and leave whenever he wants.

But no matter what it is, he always encourages you to tag along with him with a boisterous laugh or a solemn expression, depending on the goal of his visit. No matter what, he loves commanding his ship and showing you all the fascinating things he’s learned about them in the time he dedicated himself to its art.

Again, similarly to Senku, the trips are often motivated by a sudden desire to do, see, or obtain something that he isn’t able to with his own two eyes or hands within the country. And as Ryusui wants to act on his desires as soon as possible, most of the time he gives staff a day to prepare pilots and vehicles. It’s also time he gives you to consider his offer of tagging along.

Seems a bit unfair, but Ryusui always brings you back in one piece! And you may also find some fun in his eagerness to include you in his activities.

TSUKASA:

Probably the most normal when it comes to traveling. As in there aren’t any insane locations or high end accommodations.

The most frequent kind of travel Tsukasa generally does (or suggests for you to tag along on) is to the hospital where Mirai resides, or to MMA fights and related interviews. He probably trusts you enough to see those vulnerable parts of him, and it may also contribute to some sort of comfort he feels when he gets lost in his head and heart full of hard feelings and thoughts. Having someone he cares about just standing by the corner and giving him a small smile helps ground him and offer a small smile back.

That doesn’t mean trips are limited to these occasions, however. Most other trips would be dates; nothing too high end, but still fun and heartfelt events that pop up locally. And of course, if there’s a specific place you’d like to visit, Tsukasa is more than happy to come along no matter what it is.

Unless you receive accommodations for interviews and scheduled fights, most of the time the two of you will either be taking the train, driving, or walking, depending on where it is you’re going. Tsukasa loves walking through parks and beaches with you the most.

UKYO:

Don’t know how much time he’d have for traveling, generally speaking in terms of his work, so they might be sparse/few and far in between.

But just like Tsukasa, trips would probably be more casual and planned out a little more compared to Senku and Ryusui’s seemingly impulsive and loosely structured trips to wherever for whatever.

Ukyo probably intentionally plans bigger trips like day outs or overnight trips around the available time he has off from work. He looks forward to getting to spend some time with you doing something fun and interesting.

He would probably want to plan the destinations alongside you, too. The itinerary is carefully compiled together, but not too rigid as to cause stress. They’re usually anywhere and everywhere; cafes and restaurants never before visited, parks and scenic routes, and perhaps some stores in between. He’s more than happy to tag along to anywhere you want to go.

Mode of transportation also depends on where you’re going, but like Tsukasa, the most frequent modes of transport are driving, by train, or by walking. Though he hates getting stuck in traffic jams, so public transport and walking are usually his go-to’s.

No matter where it is, though, Ukyo is just happy to spend some time with you, especially if your separate responsibilities have been keeping you apart.

#i swear some proper oneshots are on their way regularly writing is just a pain #dr stone x reader #dr stone headcanons #dr stone oneshot #dr stone fluff #dcst x reader #dcst fluff #dcst headcanons #dcst oneshot #senku ishigami x reader #ryusui nanami x reader #tsukasa shishio x reader #saionji ukyo x reader #senku ishigami fluff #ryusui nanami fluff #tsukasa shishio fluff #saionji ukyo fluff

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dreamilyleftballon · 3 months ago

Text

Turning Doom au

this au was inspired by @cyucya fan kid au and the movie Turing Red

I’ve started writing the fic for this but I don’t know when I’ll will be finished with it, but I’ve got ideas that I’ve been dying to show

Skylar inherited Shadow’s Black Arms DNA (Spark did not she did inherit Sonic speed tho) It laid dormant till he was 13.

This au is set in April and May of 2001 seeing as the turning red movie is set in 2002 I thought this would be a cool little reference to sonic adventure 2 game

Shadow and Sonic are better parents here. They still have there issues but you can see how much they love their children and how their relationship with them is a lot better

Shadow is pretty much a helicopter parent (manly to Skylar-Chil). He is overprotective of Sklyar due to him having no powers and having Black Arms DNA

With how Shadow was raised in the Ark he treats his kids like they’re in the military. He not like hard core military with them only when it comes to getting ready or following a schedule does he act like that

Shadow and Skylar are a lot closer. From when he was little Skylar has always looked up to Shadow. When he was younger he would follow Shadow everywhere and copy his every move ( like in that episode of Bluey ��copy cat”) Shadow never said it out loud but made him really happy

Skylar is an A+ student

Skylar goes to Green Hills Middle school

Shadow still works for gun but he manly works in the office or training new recruits. Sonic didn’t want him getting seriously hue or worse while they had kids. He is only on the field if absolutely necessary

Sonic is a stay at home dad. He doesn’t fight Eggman anymore since he retired

Eggman is “considered” family (loosely) he wanted to give Sage the family he never got to have. Sonic and Shadow said okay as long as he quite being evil. He became a mix of himself and Mr Tinker

Spark and Skylar have a good sibling relationship. They watch cartoons, play together and look out for each other. Skylar dose find Spark to be annoying from time to time

Skylar’s family call him SC for short and his friends call him SK for short (he thinks SK sounds cooler than SC)

Skylar does taekwondo (TKD for short). He’s a red belt, best in his class, has won multiple sparring and poomsae competition. He prefers doing the and free style competitions, he enjoys perfecting the moves for the poomsae comps. But his favourite is the Freestyle Poomsae, he enjoys doing his poomsae routine to music and thinks it the coolest thing ever (which it is). He’s not a fan of sparring though. He enjoys going to his sparring class and everyone is super supportive and friendly but he hates the sparring comps. He only does that because of Shadow and he prefers Skylar do sparring over poomsae

It was Shadow’s idea to put Skylar in TKD so that he could protect himself. He worries for Skylar’s safety a lot with him having no “powers” and all.

That’s all I got for now, I’ll do a post on Skylar- Chilli friends either this week or next. If you guys have any questions let me know I’ll love to hear what you guys think 😊

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic au #fankid #shadow the hedgehog #Turning Doom au #skylar chilli

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agronzky · 1 year ago

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⠀⠀⠀𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 & 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐏. ♡

under the cut you'll find a list of 56 diverse outings and trips to use in starters or replies withing plots. this can be used to bring new cenarious to plots, starters and rps, helping to differ threads and put characters in new experiences.

Walking in nature

A bicycle ride

Visit to an art museum

Historical city tour

Boat trip on the river/lake

Mountain trail hike

Visit to a botanical garden

Picnic in the park

Bird watching

Gastronomic tour of the city

Hot air balloon ride

Cave exploration

Visit to a zoo or aquarium

Shopping itinerary in local stores

Winery tour

Panoramic train ride

Visit to historical sites

Trip to a neighboring city

Kayak/canoe trip

Tour of movie locations

Drive-in cinea

Walk on a beach

Visit local fairs and markets

Photo expedition

Horseback riding

Visit to an astronomical observatory

Urban art trail tour

Excursion to a theme park

Traditional cooking class

Helicopter ride

Camping trip

Visit to a cultural festival

Tour of haunted places

Surf lesson or other water sport

Motorcycle ride

Exploring historical ruins

Regional dance class

Treasure hunt tour

Tour of panoramic viewpoints

Rollerblading or skateboarding

Day at an amusement park

Visit to a nature reserve

Quad bike ride

Participation in a local marathon

Wildlife watching

Zip line ride

Tour of architectural monuments

Participation in a spiritual retreat

Sailing boat trip

Motorcycle ride

Visit to a contemporary art exhibition

#rph #rp resources #rp writing help #character help #rp help #plot help #plot development #rpc #writing advice #writingtips #writing tips

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the-family-business-83 · 5 months ago

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Unexpected Calling – Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3 | Masterlist

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: A world class contract killer finds an envelope at his dead drop. Inside are $23.42 in short change and a letter handwritten by a 9-year old girl.

Type: Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader's daughter (platonic obviously), Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, action, slight angst, might get smutty but idk yet

Warnings: None for this chapter, it's really all fluff. Maybe a slight disclaimer about a lil kid interacting with a total stranger and some mom panic, but nothing bad happens!

Word count: 2.4k

Send me an ask to let me know if you wanna be added to/removed from the taglist!!

A/N: Trying to let myself just enjoy wirting and not overthink it all too much, so I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a little bit of filler but I thought it was cute and it was fun to write. And yes, I know, it took forever to get posted. I had a lot going on, and I still may not be posting super frequently but to those of you who love this series so far, rest assured: I will still post, even if it's slow.

Any and all mistakes are my own as this chapter is unbeta'd, I did all my own editing/proofreading for this.

Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics <3

Transportation had really come a long way from what he'd been so used to when he was younger. There were planes that's the air of the skies with their quiet rumblings, helicopters that you could hear coming long before they appeared, and cars. Cars were so different these days, he'd gotten used to them but it just wasn't the same. Some part of him still couldn't wrap his mind around the concept of phones being able to connect to the car. And that was just one of many new upgrades.

But Bucky didn't take his trip by air, customs were a bitch to get through on a normal day let alone when he needed to bring weapons with him. He didn't take a train either, because–well. He'd had an uneasy feeling with them ever since 1944 when he fell down the mountainside. So, instead he went by cross-country bus, and kept to himself in his seat once he got on and found one near the back where it was mostly empty. Being perfectly on time, if not a little early, there were a fewhandfuls people that he watched enter in the time that he waited for the bus to start moving. His watchful eye kept them in sight here and there but for the most part, he simply pulled his dark red baseball cap down a little lower and looked out the window to help hide his face. He could only hope that when one passenger entered with not one, not two; but three small children, that they wouldn't be very loud.

Oh how very wrong he had been. Not even 20 minutes into the trip and two of the rugrats were already whining and fighting with each other. Bucky could only stare at them in distaste as he blinked at the sight, wondering how in the world such tiny things could make so much noise. Granted, he'd never really had to deal with children, not like this anyway. And they couldn't have been any older than 3 or 5, each of them. The oldest of the three seemed to be perfectly fine and well-occupied, thank heavens but that didn't make it any more desirable

Sucking a deep breath in, Bucky suppressed the urge to ask the clearly struggling mother to turn off the screeching, and pulled out a book from his day-pack, beginning to flip through it to find his spot. Maybe if he just pretended they weren't there, they would disappear from his mind.

Not likely, but the effort was still made as he focused on the pages of the small paperback copy of The Hobbit he'd brought with him. Glancing up when it once again wasn't working well, he was caught by surprise when suddenly the older child was standing right there by his seat row, and admittedly he tensed in reaction as a sort of mini-flinch. She hadn't said a word, he hadn't even heard her walking over. But there she was, standing with her stuffed bunny in her arms, simply staring at him while he did the same. Both were quiet for a long moment before Bucky glanced up the way towards where her mother sat with her brothers, clearing his throat. "Can I…help you?" He asked a bit awkwardly as he brought his furrowed-brow gaze back to the little girl. Once more, she didn't really say anything, instead just looking him over quietly. Then, she climbed herself up into the seat next to his since it was open, and Bucky was starting to wish he'd put one of his bags there. "Hey, look, kid- your mom- ….what are you doing?"

She shrugged as he stumbled his words out, and glanced down at her bunny fiddling with it a little as she got settled in the seat. "Too loud." Her answer came simply, and while it didn't answer his question completely, he definitely understood the feeling.

Sighing slightly, he glanced towards her troubled mother once more, and then back to bunny-girl. "...Alright, what's your name kid?"

"Mandy." She replied quietly, glancing up at him a moment later with big green eyes. "What's yours mister?"

"Bucky. My name's Bucky." The man paused for a moment then, almost as if debating whether he should send her back to her family yet or not, but she was calm and quiet, and wasn't harming anything. And it wasn't like he was going to let anything happen to a little kid, so he dismissed the idea for now and instead went back to his book.

It was a minute or so later that he felt the little girl–Mandy, he reminded himself silently–leaning over the arm rest between them slightly to see what he was reading. Brows knitting once again, Bucky glanced from the pages to the young girl, whose curly pigtails somewhat bounced in the way of his view of the words. His mouth parted a fraction, ready to let something slip off his tongue to tell her to sit back and let him read. But nothing came. He didn't know how to tell the girl to get out of his space without, well… being a dick. This was a *child* it would have been different had it been an adult. So instead he simply blinked at her in silence as he debated how to handle it.

Mandy seemed to sense he was looking at her though, because then she met his gaze and inched back into place in her seat, curling around her stuffed, yellow bunny, the apology clear in her demeanor. "I just wanted to see your story." She muttered out, albeit the words likely came out a tad muffled because her bunny's head was pressed against her mouth slightly.

Kids. There was something about them that just- got to him. Admittedly, maybe some part of him had a soft spot. One that he'd probably always had, an instinct he'd never been able to shake. And maybe there was something about that moment that reminded him of the slightly younger girl that he'd been on his way to help, that made him realize he was already traveling across the states to investigate the disappearance of some kid's mother. A small gesture really couldn't hurt him. He may not have said anything, but he did nod, and as he brought his crisp blue hues back to the book in his hands, he started reading the words out to her, quietly but still loud enough to be heard against her brothers' tantrums.

Whatever she'd been expecting, Mandy seemed delightfully surprised when he began reading to her, and her eyes lit up as she looked from him to the book, leaning over once again but this time while staying back more in her seat meaning her head rested against his arm lightly, so that he could still see but she couldn't help wanting to peek. There was something about how trusting she was, about how trusting kids often seemed to be, that just genuinely baffled him. Maybe it was because he'd been so jaded for so long that it was just a mind boggling concept to see such innocence. Or maybe it simply was a brilliant anomaly that children lacked the cynicism of their parents and the adults around them, that they saw things grown-ups didn't and thought of things that were unique to them.

Bucky didn't know when the crying and whining had stopped, but eventually the sun went down around them and it was dark in the bus, nothing but the glow-in-the-dark caution stickers and the light of the full moon to let him read the words on the pages. And just as he'd glanced over towards the little girl next to him, seeing that she was well on her way to passing out completely, he heard her mother patter over looking both exhausted and annoyed. "Mandy- for God's sake, you cannot-" only then did the woman seem to register that her daughter was half asleep, not really hearing her mother much and so all that Mandy gave in response was a tired hum as she nuzzled against Bucky's arm a little more.

Well, shit. He may not be experienced with children but he knew enough to know that if he moved she might wake up. And frankly he didn't even know if she'd let him move. Glancing up towards the mother, he offered an apologetic smile. "Didn't mean to scare you…she just kind of walked on over and climbed up. Seemed like you had your hands full so I hope it's okay I kept her busy for you?" He whispered to her, stopping her before she could rage at him–if that was what she'd been about to do, that is. She looked tired, and scared, understandably so. And most of all she looked ashamed that she hadn't even noticed her daughter leave.

"O-oh…thank you, I- I mean, I'm sorry if she caused you any trouble, I just- yeah…those boys…sorry they were so loud, they're in that phase…" she apologized sheepishly in hushed tones of her own, rubbing her palms against the fronts of her jeans as her gaze flicked between her daughter and the quiet stranger of a man. "I passed out and then I…I woke up and she was gone, I'm so sorry sir."

"Not a problem, honestly. She's pretty decent company, let me read in peace with her." Reading that nervousness on the woman’s features, he paused for a moment before shrugging his free shoulder up. "Don't sweat it, I shoulda sent her back…I was going to, believe me but uh. Well, at least now you get a break, right?" He tried to ease her nerves, but then glanced down towards Mandy. "I can carry her back to your seat if you'd like."

He was just so damned kind, she thought. A complete stranger and yet her daughter was clearly safe and well, asleep even and yes, now everything was quiet and she had some time to relax. It didn't stop her mom-dar from going off, but at the very least she'd be a fool to not appreciate his kindness. "No, no it's… it's okay, I don't want to wake her, she's a bit of a light sleeper…just uh, if she wakes up let me know. I'm Erin, by the way…in case that helps." This time it was her turn to offer a kind smile.

"Bucky. Nice to meet you…I'll keep it in mind, hopefully she lets you have a break though." He chuffed an amused breath out his nose.

Doing the same, she shook her head. "Yeah, if only. Thanks, again…I'll let you uh. Read in peace." She teased lightly, taking a hand back through her hair as she went back to her seat before the driver could reprimand her for standing up so long.

Smiling in amusement at that, he watched Erin go back to her sons, and in turn went back to his book after a moment. It was the small things, that made life easier. The small things were what really made things worth it. Sure, saving the world and saving people was big, and it was good. And it was worth it. But sometimes it was moments where he managed to do something more mundane, and helped someone else, that made all the other shit worth it. Because it meant he was still capable of being human.

———

By the time the sun was back up, Bucky rose with it, his eyes slowly opening to the light streaming through the window and he groaned quietly at the crick in his neck from how he'd slept. Running his flesh hand over his face groggily, as he glanced around he noticed that the warmth that had been leaned up against his arm the night day before was no longer there. He would have been concerned, thinking he'd now somehow lost some stranger's child, but he saw the pigtail-bearing girl peeking up over her seat at him a moment later, watching her smile appear once more as she gave him a little wave. Crisis averted. Not like there was anywhere she could really go on a bus, but still.

Despite still being a bit plagued by morning sleepiness, he smiled back and gave the girl a small wave of his own before watching her sink back into her seat properly. Probably at the urging of her mother. His sleepiness didn't last long, though, because soon those boys were back to making noise, but at least it wasn't as much of a headache as yesterday because it was merely them playing and babbling about random things. That was tolerable. And so he relaxed a bit more, rolling out his neck some before he picked up his book again and went on reading.

Somewhere along the way, the lone mother with her trio of children had reached their stop and were gathering their things to leave. It was Mandy who escaped her mother's sight once again to go see the kind man at the back of the bus who had read to her, bunny still in her arms but this time with a warm smile in place. "Hi Mr. Bucky! Mommy said I shouldn't bother you again… but I just wanted to say I liked your story and you're very nice." She didn't give him time to process all of that before she climbed up in the same seat as before, and kissed his cheek for a moment before hearing her mother call her name.

"You're welcome, Mandy. I think your mom needs you though, better get going." He encouraged even as he seemed surprised by her display of affectionate gratitude. The little girl wiggled back down from the seat then, but not without turning to wave at him, walking backwards to do so. "Bye Mr. Bucky!" She rushed the words out before running along to catch up to her mother. Watching her run along, he smiled at her little goodbye, and waved back at her as she went on her way. He wished that woman luck with her undoubtedly trouble-filled journey, honestly. Because he had his own coming up and somehow he felt like she was going to have it harder.

The rest of his ride went on rather uneventful, and when he arrived at his stop it was almost nighttime. But he was all the more closer to getting this job done, so saddling himself up with all his bags, he made his way into town and started heading for the address he'd gotten on the envelope.

Tags: @baw1066 @fluffydanger @vicmc624 @sjsmith56 @capswife @dispatchvampire @sofi1sstuff @sarbear94 @impeterporker @hhiggs @safiraish @kayden666 @saltedcoffeescotch @mcubuckyandsteve @thebuckybarnesvault @himikotoga

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synergysilhouette · 5 months ago

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10 BG3 character headcanons I have (Some thirst)

Note: I don't know ALL the lore of the characters, so my headcanons could be going against actual canon. This stuff isn't anything major, but just my thoughts on paper, so to speak.

Halsin wears no clothes (when appropriate)--At one point, Halsin mentions how society complicated the simple rules of nature, including the introduction of clothes. I like the idea that when no kids are at camp, he just goes nude, and no one complains. If someone ever thought to, the others would silence them.

2. Shadowheart raises/rescues children of Shar--I personally feel like all the companions can go the parenting route (Gale states he doesn't think he's dad material, but he gives off 50% fun dad, 50% helicopter dad vibes to me; he's probably just one of those people who won't feel ready until the situation actually arises), though Astarion and Shadowheart need more time to focus on themselves following their trauma, and with both of them having longer lifespans, they have time. Following the adoptive parent storyline you see with Lae'zel, Wyll, and Halsin, I could see Shadowheart founding an orphanage and rescuing children taken by Shar like she was, as Shar refuses to let go of the goal to corrupt Selune's children.

3. Wyll is 100% vanilla, but very horny--I feel like it's very easy to make the heroic guy with just values secretly kinky, though I love the idea that Wyll is pretty much face-value when it comes to sex. I even like to think he's a virgin, seeing how he wouldn't have sex with you until you accept his marriage proposal (unless you pass the persuasion check). Along with this, I do enjoy the idea that once Tav and Wyll become intimate, it's found Wyll has a heavy sex drive, but good self-control, and is always romantic about it. (I also just have him in his underwear at camp, so I also headcanon that that's just how he's comfortable and is 100% non-sexual.)

4. Astarion still has family and is an accomplished musician--I always found it sad how Astarion can't remember his family or much about his life pre-Cazador, but I like the idea that his family is still alive, seeing how long high-elves live, or even just having descendants in Baldur's Gate. The musiucian thing is just something I went with because I gave him proficiency with an instrument, and I like the idea that he came from a well-to-do family that trained him in music, and Cazador made sure he kept up with it when seducing victims. I haven't considered it fully, but my current idea for his family (pre-vampirism) is a doting father banished from a noble house, a strict and scholarly social-climbing mother, two older brothers and an older sister, as well as a younger sister and a baby brother. Not sure who I'd headcanon as still being alive; probably most of his siblings, if not all of his family (I've heard differing sources on high elf lifespans).

5. Karlach and Wyll are a default couple if you don't romance either of them--I just love them so much together (though I need more hornless Wyll fanart; there's a way to rescue Karlach without giving him horns, you know). It also feels cute because according to Zenitho's quiz, Karlach would enjoy settling down with a family in a decade, which really compliments Wyll's character--plus it exists as a possible ending with him romantically, just much sooner than a decade. Shadowheart/Astarion has also been on my mind lately...

6. Minthara has evaluated all the men at camp for suitable consorts--Seeing how she wants to found a new house and comes to respect the team, I laugh at the idea of her evaluating Halsin, Gale, Astarion, Wyll, Minsc, and male Tav as her consorts, or at least the sire of her descendants. She goes through process of elimination: Wyll, Halsin, and Minsc are loyal, but would chafe under drow cruelty and her control; Astarion's an undead and cannot produce children; and Gale would likely feel like a second-class citizen and rebel against her. Altogether, she decides none of them would make worthy consorts except male Tav (depending on the route, and ESPECIALLY if he's another drow), though Halsin and Wyll would make the best fathers for hypothetical children (and she could probably get away with sleeping with Minsc and him not realizing she's pregnant and her not telling him). She does consider the idea of reaching out to Astarion as a consort for aesthetic purposes if he leads the other spawn into the Underdark, though. (BTW, I found this fanart on Reddit)

7. Mizora mistreats Wyll because she's attracted to him--Evil corrupts, and it wouldn't shock me if Mizora was attracted to Wyll because she wants to break him. That said, due to their personalities and the nature of their relationship, Wyll has rebuffed her, and Mizora tries to make him miserable as a result. And if Tav romances Wyll, she starts to scheme to kill them just like his father. I also have the same vibe from Orin and Zevlor, but that's another thing entirely.

8. Yenna isn't an orphan--I never liked her to begin with, and I have no idea how she'd fit into any of the companions' epilogues except Wyll or Halsin's, so I feel like it'd be better for everyone if her mom turned out to be alive, or if her dad randomly popped up, and she is returned to them.

9. Gale has A LOT of (sexual) tension with Tav if they're a sorcerer--I'm not super well-versed in DnD lore, but I remember reading that wizards and sorcerers have a rivalry, and it'd be interesting if this played a role in Gale's journey to godhood, since sorcerer Tav would be born with their powers while wizard Gale spent years studying and falling from grace as Mystra's chosen. Plus this could also fuel the reason why he's the cook for the team, wanting to show how multitalented he is. Eventually, if the romances commences, it's a passionate physical affair before we get to the Toril-shattering soul intimacy.

10. Tav comes from a big community--No evidence to support this (and even not all my Tavs have big families; check out the post for my OCs), but I always think of this when they say "No one back home will ever believe this." Be it friends, biological family, or adoptive family, I imagine they have a large social group.

Do we share any headcanons? Any particular that you find interesting from my list? Lemme know! And check out Part 2.

#baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #wyll ravengard #astarion #astarion ancunin #shadowheart #karlach #tav #minthara #mizora #yenna

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princess-of-the-corner · 1 month ago

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Funniest thing in Sailor Moon is Usagi claiming to be an average girl when she lives in Azabu-Juban, one of the most expensive parts of Tokyo, with her father outright owning the house while his apparent income isn't high enough to explain it and, in the old anime, hints they're actually a ninja family and Usagi started training off-screen after season 1.

Even funnier, is checking her against the others:

Aino Minako: working father, housewife mother, lived abroad long enough to speak English TOO WELL for the Japanese school system (the classes are based on rote memorization of the grammar. She just speaks it like a Londoner) and not fit in the Japanese school system in general, and as she was there had such weird experiences she's not only a master martial artist but her reaction to a talking cat walking on her showering was to treat him like a common pervert, then when he walked in she checked him for speakers, found none, and just accepted this cat could talk.

Mizuno Ami: super genius who's constantly #1 on the NATIONAL SCORES, divorced parents due likely cheating on her dad's part with her mom, a surgeon, taking so much money they live in a condo for the filthy rich that has MARBLE PAVEMENTS IN THE BUILDING ENTRANCE, and they have enough diamonds that when one was broken she didn't care.

Hino Rei: father is a politician terrified of her, her mother is dead, and her maternal family is rich (though not to Ami levels) and so influential her dad's political career mostly hinged on who his late wife was. Also, has magic independent from being a Sailor Soldier, and her pet ravens are actually aliens.

Kino Makoto: a survivor of JAL 123, saw her parents dying (never stated outright, but the context clues indicate she was on that plane and one of the four survivors.

Tsukino Usagi Small Lady Serenity, "Chibiusa" for short: literal time-traveling royalty. She looks like a child, but is hundreds of years old. Living proof Usagi and Mamoru can't be trusted to name a child. Her pet cat isn't technically an alien only because she was born on Earth from two aliens that immigrated millennia ago and survived multiple apocalypses.

Sailor Pluto: she's been alive for literal millennia, her dad is known in Greek myth as the God of Time and is often mistaken for the scythe-wielding God of Harvest and leader of the Titans.

Tenoh Haruka: Formula 1 pilot, professional motorbike racer, drives a car illegally (doesn't matter if you are a Formula 1 pilot, it's illegal to drive a car on the roads without a license and she's too young for one). We know nothing of her family, but her apartment with helicopter pad and helicopter hint to Yakuza connections.

Kaioh Michiru: world-famous violinist that owns a Stradivarius, hobbyist painter that could be rich from that, Olympic-level swimmer. We know nothing of her family, but her apartment with in-door pool and helicopter pad hint to Yakuza connections.

Meioh Setsuna: reincarnation of Sailor Pluto after she died IN THE FUTURE (how she got to reincarnate in the past is a mystery, given SHE is the Sailor Soldier that controls time). We know nothing of her family, but her apartment with helicopter pad hint to Yakuza connections.

Tomoe Hotaru: she's literally a zombie cyborg, and stays this way until she's possessed by an alien invader and later by the spirit of her past life. Her filthy rich dad is a mad scientist zombie that another alien invader is wearing like a suit, became like that when he sold his life to the invader's boss to save Hotaru's, and was ALREADY a mad scientist before the whole alien business (in fact that's what killed Hotaru and his assistant Kuromine Kaori, who ALSO became a zombie possessed by another alien invader). After he dies she reverts to a baby through the effort of sealing away the invader boss, and the three above adopt her and get in a lesbian polycule in the 1990s.

Sailor Pluto of the future: shouldn't even exist, as she's NOT Setsuna in the future.

So yeah, compared to THEM Usagi, who has a working father, a housewife mother, and a brother, and "just" lives in a place where her dad's apparent income shouldn't be able to support them owning the house (plus the whole "maybe ninja" thing in the old anime) is the most normal.

This is almost worse than the ML cast lmao

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thatsrightice · 2 years ago

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HOW TO BECOME A FIGHTER PILOT

So as you may or may not know, I am writing a fanfic. Unfortunately for me, I can never do things half way, and because aviation is my passion I must do hours of research on a particular subject that I probably won't even use or reference in said fanfic. Here is a guide for how our favorite characters (probably) became fighter pilots. If there are inaccuracies let me know, I want to know :)

United States Naval Academy

The USNA is an undergraduate college that is a combination of academics and military development programs. Students who want to go into Flight School could qualify with one of a variety of different majors, but there are particular majors that obviously may provide a bit of an advantage to aspiring pilots. The USNA currently offers a variety of different majors and minors, though there are fewer than you might expect from a typical university, and overall the degrees are more tailored towards the Navy. They encourage participation in athletics in the form of a Varsity or club/intramural sport(1).

NOTE: Maverick likely attended a regular college and was a part of the Naval ROTC program at that school. He would have gotten his degree in a field relevant to aviation, likely Mechanical Engineering given his mechanical aptitude seen in Top Gun Maverick, and then attended the 13-week program called Officer Candidate School. To be honest, Maverick’s path within the Navy is a mess and impossible to follow but in the most straightforward scenario, he would go to flight school following Officer Candidate School.

Flight School

Flight School is an approximately 2-year-long program that is required for Naval Aviators to earn their wings. Primarily located at the “Cradle of Naval Aviation” aka Pensacola, FL, flight school consists of many different phases that will divide students into different specializations.

1. Naval Introductory Flight Evaluation (NIFE)

Divided into four phases, NIFE is a program that evaluates students’ aeronautical aptitude as well as screens them to ensure they’re capable of becoming aviators. Students may earn a “pink sheet” for any score below 80% or a failure of a task, requiring them to stand before a panel of instructors to explain why they failed and how they plan to improve. Too many pink sheets result in removal from the program(2).

1a. Water Survival Training Following medical clearance, students are taught and tested on their ability to swim while wearing flight gear as well as formerly instructed on various survival techniques and CPR(2).

1b. Academics A 3-week phase where students take classes and exams in five subjects. It is condensed to test a student’s ability to retain information, learn new information in a high-stress environment, and challenge their self-discipline in regard to time management and other areas(2).

1c. Introductory Flight Screening (IFS) Students are entered into a 2-week-long modified civilian flight training program where one week is dedicated to ground school courses before they must conduct a series of flights in a Cessna using Navy flight procedures during the second week. Students had to memorize and prioritize information to complete the flights, specifically in regard to conducting pre-flight briefings and emergency procedures. Overall, they’ll conduct seven flights in which they are required to complete a set of standardized maneuvers(2).

1d. Aviation Physiology A week-long training course that consists of emergency-specific training evolutions such as the hypoxia chamber, emergency first aid, and the “helo dunker.” The “helo dunker” (from what I understand) is a particular training device that consists of strapping a pilot into a cockpit-like or helicopter contraption within a pool and submerging the entire structure under the water, simulating an environment in which their aircraft has landed in the water and they need to escape from the seat(3). An image of this can be seen below(2).

The Top Gun cast had to undergo a similar training course in order to be allowed to fly in military airplanes for filming. A video of some of their training can be viewed below.

youtube

2b. Aviation Pre-Flight Indoctrination

A 6-week long program that marks the beginning of the aviation pipeline. Located in Pensacola, FL, students attend classes covering the basics of aerodynamics, weather in relation to aviation, air navigation, flight rules and regulations, and aircraft engines and systems (3).

Prior to API, those interested in becoming Radar Intercept Officers (RIO) will have expressed their interest and requested a designation as a Naval Flight Officer (NFO).

2c. Primary Flight Training

A 6-month-long program that teaches the students the basics of flying. There are two locations for Primary, one at Training Air Wing 5 at Naval Air Station Whiting Field in Pensacola, FL, or Training Air Wing 4 at Naval Air Station Corpus Christi in Corpus Christi, TX. Both Naval Air Stations (NAS) are taught the same curriculum and fly the same aircraft, the T-6 Texan II. The students learn about the instruments, flight basics, radio instrument navigation, formation flying, and aerobatics, and also conduct several solo flights. At the end of Primary, students choose which pipeline they would like. This is conducted depending on the needs of the Navy and how many spots are available(3).

Obviously, Iceman, Slider, Goose, Cougar, and everyone else got Jets, though they may not have gone through flight school at the same time.

2d. Intermediate Flight Training

Intermediate Flight Training is a 27-week program. Split into five platforms; Jet, E2/C2, Helicopter, Maritime, and E-6 TACAMO. The jet platform flight training focuses more on navigation, air traffic control, individual skills, and cooperative skills of flying jets. The intermediate flight training program for jets is located at Meridian, MS (Training Air Wing One) at either VT-7 or VT-9, and Kingsville, TX (Training Air Wing Two) at either VT-21 or VT-22, both of which teach the same curriculum. Students in the jet platform will complete 58 graded flights in the T-45C Goshawk jet trainer aircraft(3).

2e. Advanced Flight Training

Similar to Intermediate Flight Training, the program is split into five platforms but lasts 23 weeks. The students will probably have stayed with the same training squadron throughout the intermediate and advanced flight training. This stage includes learning skills specific to the chosen platform. The Advanced Flight Training program for jets is what’s called the Strike Syllabus. The Strike Syllabus includes an additional 67 graded flights in the T-45 covering air combat maneuvers, low-level navigation, tactical formation flying, and aircraft carrier qualifications. Students will then graduate from Advanced Flight Training with the Wings of Gold(3).

3. Squadron Selection

The final selection process assigns naval aviators to a particular squadron based on the needs of the service. Naval Aviators are assigned to a fleet replacement squadron or other similar training assignments for further training on their specific aircraft type. Here, RIOs and pilots must become qualified by gaining the required flight hours and meeting the proficiency standards necessary.

NOTE: It’s kind of hard to figure out when exactly the RIO training occurs. I know it takes place over the course of all the primary through advanced training occurs as well but I’m not sure if they have to attend seperate courses for it.

TOPGUN

From there, pilots and RIOs may have been moved to their first official squadron for deployment. They would have been in their first squadron for approximately one and a half years, deploying with them. Their squadron would come back from a deployment and during the stand-down time before their next deployment, their commanding officer would select them to go to TOPGUN.

Sources

(1) https://www.usna.edu/homepage.php

(2) https://www.navy.mil/Press-Office/News-Stories/Article/2944668/nife-lays-foundation-for-naval-aviation-training/

(3) https://www.cnatra.navy.mil/tw4/flight-school.asp

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katzenmas · 1 year ago

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okay but think about Nikto. Nikto who was not always no one. He was his mother's son, his sister's younger brother, the smiling kid from apartment 56 in the orange complex, the runt of the litter in his class.

Nikto who once had a name. A little boy who had a funny nickname that was yelled by his friends as they skipped class and ran from the guards in school. A boy who had dreams and nightmares and stupid petty fights with his classmates. Nikto who in his teenage years buzzed his hair and started wearing darker clothes. A boy who was offered his first cigarette at 14 and coughed up half a lung after one hit. A fight with the kids from a neighboring school left his nose crooked and blood filling his mouth, but his hands were slung over his friends' shoulders and they laughed. Nikto who watched wars break out. Had to hear it on the radio, see it on the news. Two old men talking about yet another conflict while playing chess in a park. History class in school talking about 'The Great Patriotic War', the horrors suddenly becoming too real. The need to do something pressing into his mind as he read the newspaper about an attack on a theatre by Chechen terrorists. Nikto who's mother's face paled when he said he enlisted. His older sister who tried to tell him to go to univeristy, study and then leave to go to a different country, live a better life, a life he deserved. His grandma who let silent tears spill as she remembered how her own husband did not return to her. A 17 year old boy who made up his mind, he wanted to serve his country, answer the call of duty. Nikto who went to training camp, passed it, but barely. A young fresh-faced boy who layed in his barrack bed and wondered if he made the right choice. He though he could never get used to the wight of his gun. Nikto who as the years passed adapted to the harsh military life. He revelled in it. The man came a long way, no one would be calling him the runt of the lotter now. His body filled out, muscles and skin hardening, his face that held baby fat even into his late teen years all but completely dissapeared, being swapped for a five o'clock shadow and a square jaw. Nikto who got into the helicopter with a smile, joking around with his squadmates as they set out to their next mission. The man who took down 13 hostiles by himself but was overwheled, the man who was not deemed worthy enough to go back for, the man who left at the hands of the enemy. Nikto who finally became no one. Nikto who's mind was spliced in so many directions that he could not make out the heads or the tails of life. Nikto who was no longer a boy or a man. He was death, he was nothing. Nikto who forgot his own name, forgot what life was like before the torture. Nikto who looked into the mirror, at the deformed thing that used to be his face. His minf trying to, but never quite coming up with a picture of what he looked like before. Nikto who came back changed. The voice in his mind also splitting, making him think that he was no one but also everyone at the same time. A big void of bodies and sounds trapped in one broken body. Nikto who had a chance to go back home. The door to the apartment where he supposedly spent his whole life was unfamiliar to him. The peeling paint and the rickety lock looked like things he knew, but the more he tried to remember the harder it was. Nikto who watched the woman who was supposed to be his mother fall to her knees when he said that her son is dead. The dog tags and envelope methodically handed over to her. He watched as another woman slowly made her way over to the weeping lady, embraced her and wailed. Wailed for a man who was dead but also alive. Screamed a long forgotten name and prayed to god, a god that Nikto himself remembers praying to during those months of being caputered. But they don't get an answer from him, just like he never did. He mutters an apology and turns away from the door. Leaves the orange complex with the women who grieved him behind. Just as he left himself behind. he was no one. He was Nikto.

#cod #call of duty #nikto #nikto call of duty #nikto headcanons #cod headcanons #call of duty headcanons

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typewritingyip · 4 months ago

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The Arcturus Missions

Part Thirty Two - Hunting the Enemy

Part Thirty One

——-

New Kaon was a stronghold for the Decepticons during the Cybertronian Civil War, it was a necessity for resource gathering when they were pushed mostly off Cybertron.

The capital city sits just outside of one of the oldest off world mining operations that cybertronians had held since before the last age. It was nearly abandoned by the start of the war and those that remained had been staunch Decepticon sympathizers and made the apprehension of the planet easier.

Although at first the mines had seemed empty, the need for technology to scan for energon had grown during the war and showed how rich the planet still was. It didn’t take long for refugees from Cybertron to start arriving, to start building.

Innocence exists in every war and there were millions who wanted to avoid the conflict, both those who could afford it who evacuated to colony worlds and those who couldn’t who caught freights to and from New Kaon.

It was a sanctuary to the lower caste, to the disposables, and they weren’t the most trusting of mecha.

When their planet was under attack, they tried hard not to rely on anyone or anything for outside help, but some situations require more help.

—

The world around him was exploding, not unfamiliar but not familiar either, not in this sense. Not when he felt this large.

Explosions across the landscape reminded him of his days in the military, whether in actual battle or training, how the mortars would try to rupture your eardrums. When the focus was that of a trained killer rather than a civilian with a gun.

Normally when in the suit, Hound felt like he was operating a tank without a spotter, or flying a helicopter without any help, slightly off kilter. Though he was good at it, having grown used to it over the years, there were still times where it felt like he was missing one of his senses.

Whatever else he had unlocked with his nightvisor had restored it and enhanced it more than memory held. It felt different from his old Hunter class programs, those were more second nature than this ragged instinct.

This was more than that, the pace of a Striker and the focus of a Hunter, it made everything he had been physically feeling for weeks wash away for the moment.

Headache gone, nausea shoved to the side, bleeding and discharge forgotten. Hound felt larger than he’d ever felt, filling the suit and not just piloting it. It was dangerous, he knew that, but this was too important to think about the danger he might be putting himself in.

Who knows, it could be a good thing, being this connected with the war raging around them all, it had never been this bad on Earth, so it could very easily have been a failsafe designed by the scientists. After all, Vortex was in fact still Vortex, somehow or someway, at least according to Felix.

Hound’s gun came up and fired loudly, in rapid succession, the barrel was glowing red hot though shifting to a brighter green with the glow of night vision. There were Quintessons everywhere and the sun was starting to come back up already. Swearing, he moves with much more ease than he’d had in the last six, almost seven, months that he’d been here.

His fist collided with the side of a Quintesson, quick and almost easy, feet landing back in the sand while he grabbed hold of the thing to toss it away. Tentacles trying to grasp at his plating while it shrieked.

A shot blew it apart, like it was made of putty instead of flesh and blood. Glancing back, he loosely saluted towards wherever Mirage was hiding before turning back to the fight, “You feeling alright Hound? You look different.” He almost bowed his head, he would have if he wasn’t colliding with another Quintesson.

”I feel alive Mirage, better than I have in a while.” His fist collided with the Quint, going mid arm deep into the alien and splattering himself and the sand in green gore.

Mirage was watching him through the scope, frowning at the weird and alien mecha he’d come to care so deeply for. There was always something slightly foreign about them, other than their design, how they moved and the glow of their visor. It didn’t often portray emotion like others did.

Though the visor hadn’t changed, the way Hound was moving certainly did, subtly enough he was sure only he would notice for a while.

It was smooth natural movement, as if this whole time he had to think about moving instead of just doing it, and damn him to the pit if he’d been holding back this whole time. Still out-shining half the united cybertronian army.

Hound was moving fast, every time his fist wasn’t colliding with the enemy, a blast out of his gun was. Smack, smack, hum, boom, click, smack and repeat, endlessly it felt like.

Dawn was breaking, the sun was rising at the horizon, the need for night vision was dying and for a brief moment of panic. Hound hoped, deep down, that when he turned it off he wouldn’t go back to being the pilot in the chair.

—

Sideswipe hated guard duty, or this glorified guard duty. He didn’t understand why they were there in the first place, let alone just pretending like the war wasn’t happening at all.

North Iacon was colder than he thought it would be, the heat of his suit the only thing keeping him from shivering as the heater was further away. Once he was relieved from this short shift he’d go lay on top of it if he had to, though for the moment Moonracer and Punch were sitting there.

Sighing deeply, he shakes his head and goes back to pacing with Chromia, “Remind me again, why were we sent to the North Pole?” Sighing, Chromis shook her head, “It’s where Elita wants us, every major entrance to every major city has a team like ours there. She just wanted us here.” He hummed deeply, still scowling.

Chromia chuckled lightly, “You’ll get used to it, Sideswipe.” He almost growled, “This is a punishment, I’m not a child who needs to be sent to the damn corner.” And Chromia tried not to wince, her hand coming to rest lightly on his back, “It’s got nothing to do with you, we always end up in North Iacon.” He frowned and shook his head.

”It feels like a punishment, cause I’m not a perfect soldier. Hell, I’m not a soldier and never was expected to be!” He throws an arm out angrily, wanting to rake a hand through his hair.

She fell quiet for a moment, shaking her head some, “Things must be different between here and Earth Sideswipe, we all are going to expect other things from you. From you all.” But she sighs, “But, most of us didn’t want to be soldiers originally. Just have stuck with it now cause we can’t imagine anything else.” And her smile was soft.

He caught the bait, stared at it for a long moment, before giving in, “And you?” She nodded a bit, “I’m not originally from Cybertron, one of the colonies.” She gave a gentle shrug, “Doesn’t matter at the moment, they're safe, but back then I didn’t have much of a trajectory in my life. Everything changed when the war started, before the space bridges closed for millennia.” He tried not to gawk at the term.

”I came here with some good friends, most of whom are long gone, but the fight was too important. So I stayed even when there were evacuations back home and I still stay because I care for this planet, its people, and the person I love is here. Or, well, usually.” Sideswipe came to a hard stop, “Woah, love?” She chuckled a bit, “Your brother’s commander is my marriage.” She pats his back.

He was still frowning at the translation error, sighing, “I didn’t know that was a thing here. I mean, you hear but I didn really,”“Pay attention?” She smiles a bit and nods, walking them over to the heater, “No, but can you blame me? Getting stuck on this planet under random military commanders wasn’t exactly my mission.”

No, the mission was to die and send back data, not spend the rest of your life fighting an ugly enemy.

Chromia gave a light shrug and sat down once Moonracer left her seat, Sideswipe took Punch’s seat. Leaned in close to the heater with a sigh, “It wasn’t mine either, but I wouldn’t trade this life for any other.” He looked at her and bowed his head for a long moment before nodding.

”Yeah, yeah, I guess I wouldn’t either.” And even though his head was bowed, he could feel her smile through the suit.

Shifting back a bit, he looked back to her, “So, what is it like working for or with the commander then?” Chromia smiled and shifted, “Well, if it helps how you view it, she already likes you.” And he grinned.

—

The night vision clicked off and Hound was holding his breath, the sun blinding both in the green field of his vision and the recovery of his normal sight. Or as normal as it could be when he still didn’t feel like he was staring at screens. Sighing slowly, he couldn’t help but glance around.

Trying to make sure no one saw his moment of panic.

There wasn’t anyone nearby to notice, not really, though the glint of a rifle scope caught his eye for a moment. Hound supposed that if anyone were to see his panic, he’d rather it be Mirage than anyone else.

“You know I can see your scope, right?” He tried to keep his voice cool, calm even, and Mirage chuckled on the other end of the line, “It’s the one thing that gives me away to Cybertronian’s, so yeah.” Hound smiled a bit.

Sighing slowly, he turned and scanned the battlefield, most people were still dealing with their own crops of attack but there were Quints who had separated from their own main lines of attack now, and it struck Hound as his feet lightly dragged through the sand what he was doing.

It was the feeling of being able to hunt again, to stalk and collect data from the enemy, to understand them potentially, while still able to utterly destroy them, “Hound, what’s with the look?” And he had to bite his tongue to hold back shushing Mirage.

Taking a slow deep breath, he adjusts his cameras and checks the readings in the corner of his vision, “I am trying to decide where to go next, either towards the crash site or towards the line, what’s your opinion on it?” It wasn’t entirely true, but it was the closest he’d let himself explain.

Sighing over the line, he could tell Mirage was trying to figure out how to word something in a good way, “Hound, we’ve been out here since the attack started. I thought humans needed more sleep?” His tone shifted up at the end of the question and Hound smiled softly.

There was a feeling of being thankful that your friends were choosing to get to know you and how it all worked, “To focused to sleep, which way can you cover me better?” It was a bit of a compromise and Mirage groaned, “Towards the crash site, but,” He didn’t even finish speaking before Hound disappeared over the edge of a dune.

His mech slid down it with a practiced ease, “You're out of my eyeline.” Mirage was trying not to panic, only breathing again when Hound reappeared, “It’s called traveling, it’s something that needs to be done sometimes.” Hound grinned at his joke, moving in slowly on a group of Quints who were waiting around at the edge of their crashed ship.

A few seconds passed while he watched, waiting for the right moment to strike, gun humming at his side as it charged back up, “What are you doing?” Mirage kept his voice low though, and Hound took a slow breath, “Waiting.” His gun came up and he aimed for a second, letting out his breath before firing.

There were five of them and the one sprayed green blood across the sand and across it’s companions. Once Hound’s gun started to hum back up again, he came over the last bit of sand, almost colliding with rocks as he threw himself at them all. All at once.

If there was a moment that showed why the Cybertronian’s needed the humans, it was now, and it was pretty solid evidence.

Across New Kaon, the fighting was intense, but the moment Hound moved in on a group of Quint by himself, it was being watched by at least a dozen other mecha. The ones who could stop and take a moment to breathe, to watch in both horror and awe. Of the few that knew the humans, wondered how their planet was losing this war if they had people like this at their disposal.

Hound’s hands and arms were wrapped in tentacles, but he was pulling, feet planted firmly on the fragile stone. His gun was still in one hand and every time it stopped humming he’d fire till it couldn’t anymore. This wasn’t a fair fight, this was a slaughter, one he knew that he had to win.

They were shrieking and screaming incomprehensibly, trying to pull Hound apart like he was them but his grip was more significant than theirs. Yanking harshly and grunting with the effort of it.

”Earth was stupid to send them on a suicide mission.” Mirage murmured, watching through his scope before firing on the Quintesson’s himself. Only one falling away from the brawl Hound had managed to get himself tangled in.

Grunting with the effort, Hound yanks and pulls another tentacle away from the nearest Quintesson before diving forward, free hand going into the wound as far as it would give, yanking and tearing, splattering the sand with green as the thing whimpered and died.

He kept going, if he didn’t they would kill him, if he didn’t keep fighting then New Kaon would be overrun.

Hound disemboweled the next one, a blast across the things side and a thrust hand splatter gore across the ground. Three down, two to go and they were slightly smaller then the first two, even the one Mirage had handled for him.

Their tentacles whipped out and he grabbed them quickly, pulling his feet and pulling with all the force his mech had. They were shrieking, more than screaming, but it was still grating at his ears, turning down the audio he maintained his focus on the fight.

On how the fights around them were dying off with the rising sun, of how the line was starting to clear the field and a few shots hit towards his feet before colliding with the side of one of the Quintessons. It screamed and he let his own gun come up to finish it, then did the same to the other.

When all five were no longer moving, he bent and gasped for breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

That moment didn't last forever however, “Hound, you’re going to need to fall back. Seekers are going to come in to clear up the rest of the field.” Groaning, he nodded and stood back up straight, waving in Mirage’s general direction, “I’m on my way.” Turning, he started back up one of the many sand dunes he’d thrown himself down.

There was no way that the fight would end today, not for New Kaon, but this one ship had run out of soldiers.

He wanted to pull at his suit, to adjust it but now was not the time. Moving slowly across the sand, he makes a relative beline for Mirage, smiling a bit as he went. The blue mech was waiting for him, rifle in a relaxed grip. Hound waved slightly stupidly before moving up to Mirage, “Thanks for waiting for me, I could fall over.”

Mirage chuckled lightly, “That’s why I waited, come on the other humans will be waiting I’m sure.” Hound hummed and pinged them as they went. Though Mirage fell strangely silent, so Hound glanced at him and tilted his head slightly.

“Hound, what the hell are you?” Mirage falls into step next to him and he takes a slow and deep breath, looking at the sky turning light with day, “A trained killer, like all pilots.” He gives a one shouldered shrug, “What I did today was very old coding of mine, I’d appreciate it if it was kept between us.” Mirage slowly nodded, patting Hound on the back.

He sighed slowly, “Mirage, thank you.” He looks at him and smiles, lightening his visor just enough, “For having my back.” Mirage smiled and nodded, “Of course,” He paused, frowning slightly ans shaking his head, clearly on comms.

Hound gave him a moment, staying quiet before Mirage looked back at him, “Optimus needs me back at camp.” Hound nodded, “I’ll see you later then.” Mirage smiled a bit before jogging off, and Hound sighed deeply, closing his eyes.

The exhaustion was trying to grab hold of him and drag him towards sleep. Shaking himself a bit, he opens his eyes and joins the tail end of a group heading for camp, all people he vaguely recognized.

His step slowed though and he was taking in what had happened, replaying some of the fights in his mind, smiling with his head tilted just slightly, deep in thought.

It wasn’t like Hound to get caught off guard, it was completely unlike him, but he was exhausted and most people were dragging their feet back towards camp, he was dragging his feet now.

All it took was a brief moment where he let his eyes close and had his audio turned down, it was just the brief moment before the floor was tugged out from under him.

His cameras were filled with sand and he was quick to attempt to get a hold of the ground, sand slipping through his fingers. There was slightly distant shouting and he started swearing, trying to turn over to see what held him.

Heart racing and adrenaline skyrocketing again, waking him up enough to toss over the weight of his suit to be pulled along on his back at least. Swearing at the oversized Quint that held him, “Oh, not today.” He reached for where his gun had been, to find the space empty. He swore again.

Quickly, he started to dig his fingers into the tentacle around his waist first, grunting with an effort to puncture the skin. Once he had it though, he started tearing what he could apart.

The Quintesson shrieked and pulled him up into the air, upside down, and inside the suit his magnets were what saved him from hitting the ceiling. He barely stared for a moment before he kept pulling as it screamed and when it dropped him, he was right back on it.

His fist collided with its face, then one of his feet with its side, open hand jabbing for its eye and digging in wherever he could. It continued to shriek and tried to get hold of him again, but Hound threw his weight at it, diving on it and any sharp edge on his suit was being thrown into the thing. Caking them both in green.

Fights like this dragged on, even after they were done, Hound wanted to make sure that it was dead. He kept going long after it stopped twitching, anger coursing through him along with the adrenaline and it was only when he felt like he couldn’t breath did he stop and step back.

Stumbled back and sat down in the sand.

There was no one around and Hound tore off the oxygen mask, gasping weakly before laying back, collapsing.

———

A/N

There was supposed to be more in this chapter, I wanted to put the finishing touches on it today but I have been dealing with a light sensitive headache for the last six hours. So, I wrapped up what I could.

Next post might be Arcturus 3 part 2 though, since that’s almost finished and I don’t know how much time I’ll have between now and then to finish part 33.

Wow, I am loving writing this story, so sorry for the delay in my schedule. Thank you for the kind words everyone.