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as-is-above-so-below · 2 years ago

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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Part 4: Visitors

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: implied child loss Note: Thank you for all of your support! I'm starting to run low on ideas for the Rileys. If y'all would like more, I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments or my DMs! I will say, my BIG Ghost headcanon is that he has a tongue piercing, so do with that what you will *side eye* Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

John cracked the door to the hospital room and poked his head in. “I heard you kids are ready for visitors?”

“You’re in your forties, Price. You’re hardly older.”

“And yet, here I am, honorary granddad.”

Simon was too focused on the small bundle in his arm, gently tracing a tiny button nose before laying his open palm on her belly. He had shed his balaclava hours ago but still sported a skull-printed facemask. He recently left his hair longer than usual on the top but kept it tight on the sides. It was thick and almost shaggy, blonde locks starting to wave and curl at the ends.

The group entered the room, a massive barrage of foil and latex balloons squeezing through the door frame behind them. The sergeants wore beaming smiles as they rushed to Freyja, laid back in bed, and each thrust huge, full bouquets of flowers. “Oh dear Jesus,” she laughed tiredly, taking them both and resting them on the table at her bedside. She would ask the nurses to take care of them later. Surely they would have some vases she could borrow until they went home.

Most of her labor was spent on her feet, unable to bring herself to get in bed for hours. She took to either hunching over it, Simon’s calloused hands gripping hers and dragging up and down her spine, or practically hanging from his shoulders, her forehead pressed against his chest. In a state of pure exhaustion, Price convinced her to give her feet rest, even if only for a little bit.

Not wanting to overwhelm her as the boys fussed over her, John calmly approached with a soft smile and placed a hand on her head. “You broken?” he asked, petting her hair as the boys tied off the balloons to the rails of the bed.

“I’m good,” she smiled back, leaning into the touch. She motioned for a hand, and Price and Soap helped her adjust to sitting up straighter. Johnny bent down and pressed a loud, wet kiss to her cheek, which she batted away with a scrunched nose. “Si, bring her here. Price first.”

“Aww, not fair! ‘M the best lookin’ uncle! I should go first!”

“Johnny,” Simon warned, giving the Scot a warning look. “Keep it down before I revoke your godfather privileges.” It was an empty threat, but he piped down anyway.

Soap was a human battering ram leaving the base, plowing through any soldier and recruit that got in the way as Gaz, Ghost, and Freyja followed closely behind. John saw a small smile on her flushed face when Gaz and Soap squeezed into the front seat together, chanting We’re having a baby over and over, to which she retorted, I didn’t realize the 141 was a military polycule.

John nestled the infant into the crook of his elbow, her swaddle shifting to leave her arms free. She squirmed, moving from Simon’s arms to John’s, her pink little face scrunching up in irritation. He gently brushed a finger along her sternum, which her tiny hand wrapped around, and she settled again. “She’s beautiful, Y/N.”

Johnny leaned over the Captain’s shoulder, Kyle doing the same on the other side. “God help her if she gets your ugly mug, Lieutenant,” Gaz teased, wiggling one of her feet within the blanket.

Ghost decided to let that one pass. “This is your granddad, lovie,” Simon said, his quiet voice rumbling. “Price, this is Joan.”

John’s eyes flickered between the man in front of him and the woman in the bed behind him. “Joan?”

“Mmm,” Simon nodded, his mask shifting as his cheeks rose underneath. He wasn’t usually so expressive but was exhausted and feeling particularly sappy.

John’s eyes watered, and he blinked back at the newborn. He had spent five long, sleepless days in that same hospital, forever yet not so long ago. John didn’t have a wife or children of his own. His team was the closest thing he had to family. He felt a fatherly responsibility to all four of them. Even then, it shouldn’t have been John Price cradling her face, whispering words of helpless encouragement, countless hours desperately pleading with command to pull Ghost out of his mission, to no avail.

Simon didn’t return until four months later.

He couldn’t remember a time before that when he had felt his heart break cleanly in two. Notifying next of kin was difficult but quick; drop the news and move on to the next. But the pain and, for lack of a better for, agony Freyja suffered during Simon’s access was unlike anything he’d witnessed.

Now the warm, healthy baby in his arms was his namesake.

“I’m honored, Simon. Thank you, both of you.”

“We were thinking ‘Joanie’ for a nickname.”

Soap whipped around, wide eyes meeting Freyja’s. “Like…Johnny? Me?” he whispered, his skin suddenly hot and his ears turning a bright shade of red. At the slightest sign of confirmation from her, he tackled his Lieutenant with his entire body weight, arms thrown around his neck. Simon grunted at the sudden contact and stumbled just a step. He awkwardly patted the man’s back with one hand.

“Johnny.”

Sniff.

“Get off of me.”

“You named yer daughter after me!”

“I named my daughter after my Captain.”

“Sure, Ghost. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

~*~

Simon was pulled from his slumber by the soft rustling and whines from the foot of their bed. Soft morning rays peeked through the gap in the curtains. Before her cries grew to high-pitched shrills and woke Freyja from her much-needed sleep, he rolled out from the covers and shuffled to pick her up. “Mornin’, lovie,” he hummed, unwrapping the tight bundle and freeing her limbs. Simon chuckled at her long stretch, carrying her out of their bedroom and quietly closing the door behind him. She deserved a little extra sleep.

He puttered around the house with Joanie in one arm, softly chatting about their plans for the day. Simon spent a lot of time talking to her, eyes resembling his gazing up at him, smiling or gurgling occasionally when she gummed her hands. He would tell her about any messages or videos her uncles had sent, funny stories from base, tales of his and Freyja’s travels during their time in the service. He had yet to talk about his parents or her Uncle Tommy, and anything related to missions was absolutely off the table.

A tiny, soft palm smacked his chest, grabbing his attention. His lip tugged at the corner, and he playfully tapped her nose. “What’re ya doin’, there? I’ve got nothin’, unfortunately. ‘M not your mum.” Freyja would tell him his accent got thicker the more tired he was if she were awake. He never really noticed a difference.

The bottle warmer on the counter pinged, indicating that it was ready.

He settled in the deep corner of the couch as she ate, staring up at his like she always did. “Pretty girl,” he muttered while thumbing her cheek, which was starting to get that chunky plushness with every pound she gained. He stared and stared until she shoved at the empty bottle. It was placed on the coffee table, and Simon slid down until he was on his back, with her small body perched on top of him.

“I’m not sure what I did to deserve you and your mum.” She lifted her head at the sound of his voice, another skill she had been approving. “Your granddad’s always tellin’ me I’m too hard on myself. ‘You’re a hero, Simon, you save thousands of lives every day’,” he said, mimicking John’s posh accent. “Certainly don’t feel like a hero. It’s our job to protect people. ‘We get dirty and the world stays clean’.” Simon snorted, and the baby cooed at him, stretching to palm at his face.

“How’s that work? I’m supposed to keep the public safe but I couldn’t protect my family. I was gone. Your mum almost died.” He blinked away the hot tears in his eyes. He cleared his throat to chase away the burning ache forming. His fingers rubbed her back to ground himself, taking deep, steady breaths. When Simon turned his eyes from the ceiling back to his daughter, he saw her fighting sleep, eyes fluttering.

He could stay like that forever.

“But then we might not have you. Funny, that.”

Snoozing soundly against his warm skin, his hand firm enough to keep her in place so she couldn’t slip off. Simon got as comfy as he could without jostling the baby too much, wedging a throw pillow under his neck.

He had never considered leaving his profession before seeing an empty nursery, dismantled and stripped to not look at it for another moment. They had both lost small pieces of themselves then. Simon had to learn to cope with the guilt of not being present for his wife during her darkest times, and Frey struggled to grasp her new reality, one that went against all of her plans at the time.

But she was stubborn and determined to work, knowing he wouldn’t leave the force without her.

At the time, he was furious at her American pig-headedness and inability to listen to reason.

Now, with new photos littering their shelves, new toys and clothes strewn about, and his phone relentlessly ringing with desperate pleas for FaceTime calls and pictures, he was grateful.

~*~

Where the fuck is he?

Freyja moved through their house with brows furrowed together as she searched the rooms for her husband. Panic briefly overtook her when she woke and found an empty bassinet until she realized the bed next to her was as well and figured Simon had taken their daughter to another room.

But which one?

Eventually, she found him sprawled out on the couch, one leg dangling off the chaise and an arm thrown over his eyes. He looked peaceful with their newborn against his bare, scarred chest, slowly rising and falling with each breath. Her heart swooned, and she snapped a quick picture of the scene. Simon lifted his arm at the shutter click, his eyes half-lidded. A sleepy grin tugged at his lips, and he beckoned her over. “Hi, sweetheart,” he whispered as she bent down, securing a lazy kiss with a soft groan.

Their first few weeks as parents were blissful, even with the lack of sleep and drastic change in routine. Joanie was sleeping well, but Freyja and Simon struggled to get used to her sleep schedule. Anxiety and PTSD flared when she dreamt, and she often shot awake at any little noise, immediately going to the bassinet. He had nightmares but had gotten used to them since childhood, whereas her night terrors only started in the last couple of years.

Even at her young age, it was clear that she was already a daddy’s girl. Little Joan recognized his voice from across the house and sought him out, refusing to settle until she was in his arms or strapped to his torso. She preferred sleeping on their chests, listening to their heartbeats. She especially loved skin-on-skin contact.

Simon took to fatherhood immediately, fussing over her every need and want and happily chatting away, although they were one-sided conversations. His dad jokes were almost unbearable. If you had told her a few weeks ago that there was room in her to love Simon even more, she would have told you you were crazy. But watching him with his daughter proved her wrong. Her heart grew impossibly with every passing day.

On top of that, the sight of him with their daughter snuggled up with him, his tattooed sleeve, blonde hair mussed with sleep? God damn.

“You should know I’m dying to jump your bones right now.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled wider. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, the daddy energy’s really doin’ somethin’ for me.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, love. I’ll take ya to bed as soon as you’re able. It’s only been two months.”

Small hands grasped at his skin, alerting him to her stirring. Simon gently shushed her as he sat up, shifting her to his shoulder; she somehow looked even tinier in his hold. Something fluttered in her chest again as he nuzzled Joanie’s shoulder, and she beamed at him. He shifted under her gaze, looking amused.

“Staring’s kind of my thing, Frey. It’s unsettling.”

“I told you, fatherhood looks good on you.”

BANG BANG BANG

“Good mornin’ Mexico!” Soap’s voice cried through the door, followed by Gaz’s chesty cackles.

Only Freyja jumped when the door shook, but they both looked towards it, Simon’s brow raised. “Bloody hell, are they daft? It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday!”

“Which means it’s their only free time, and they want to see us,” she scolded and nudged him to the kitchen. He acted tough, but she knew her husband well enough to know how much the team’s affection meant to him. Neither of them had any family to speak of, whether in England or America. It takes a village to raise a baby, as they say, and what a town they had.

With a wicked smile on her face, as Simon passed her, she wound up and slapped his ass with a sharp crack, earning a hiss.

“The fuck, Frey!”

“Your fault for walking around like that! It’s scandalous!”

He was wearing grey sweatpants.

“You’re pushin’ it, love. Don’t be a cheeky brat.” (Translation, ‘I love it, please do that again’).

He disappeared into the kitchen, and Freyja tied her robe in front as someone banged on the door again. “Jesus Christ, hold your horses!”

The second the lock turned, Gaz busted the door open (it bounced off the coat rack behind it), ready to pounce. “Where’s the babe?” he cried, hands on her shoulders as he physically moved her out of his way.

“Hello to you too, Kyle. Lovely weather we’re having.”

He pecked her cheek with a quick Hello, then immediately flipped her off, storming past her towards the kitchen where soft baby noises came from. From the other room, she heard the sergeant practically squeal, “There’s my girl! Give her here!”

“Sergeant—”

“Kindly get fucked, mate!”

“I’m warning you, Garrick!”

A scuffle and light cursing rang through the house, and Soap’s laugh shook the walls as he hugged her tightly, squishing her. “Pure mental about that baby, he is,” he said, then kissed her forehead. “Oof, ya look like shite, hen.”

“Thank you, Soap. It’s truly a marvel that you’re still single.”

They joined Ghost and Gaz in the kitchen, Johnny carrying two large paper bags. The warm smell of butter, grease, and onions wafted through the air, and Freyja deeply inhaled, savoring it. “We brought breakfast as payment for your troubles.”

She snatched one from him, pulled one of the takeout boxes out, and threw herself at the table.

“Did you put the kettle on?” Kyle asked, smiling down at Joan and tickling her belly. She kicked her legs furiously, grabbing at his fingers with both hands in a tight baby grip. “Holy shit, the bloody grip on you!”

Simon huffed and muttered some choice words under his breath. “I was workin’ on it when you nearly broke my door in and kidnapped my child.”

“Sweet, I’m dyin’ for a cuppa.”

As if reading each other’s minds, Soap and Freyja groaned, in sync, “Fuckin’ Brits.”

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e-vay · 8 months ago

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The Sonnet of Domino & Phlox - Ch1

[A/N: In game canon, we’ve never learned who Sonic’s parents are or what they were like. I decided to make my own interpretation for Sonic’s mother and father. This is the story of their brief but significant meeting.]

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It’s only a couple of days.

A teal colored hedgehog took in a deep breath. The morning air was crisp in her lungs, a sure sign of the autumnal equinox. If she had any hope of making it through the next two seasons out in the wilderness, she’d need to stock up on supplies. Her thin tank top and patched slacks wouldn’t be enough to warm her fur against the icy winter breeze and scavenging for food in the desolate snow would be nearly impossible. She had to stock up now and that meant a trip to the nearest town.

Domino let out a puff of air before adjusting the backpack on her shoulders and marching through the entry gates. The young woman didn’t care much for cities. But, strapped for cash, there was no better place to look for odd jobs and errands to earn enough dough to purchase the winter gear she’d need. Her first stop would be to find the village square and look for a board with job postings, but that meant a trek through the marketplace…

Despite the early morning hour, the dirt path was bustling with locals and travelers alike. Merchants shouted praises of their wares, dueling for the attention of potential customers that filled the street and bounced from vendor to vendor. Children tugged at their parents’ hems and screamed for the shiny new toys that decorated several booths. “Ugh,” Domino thought to herself, “Markets are the worst.”

The blue teen shoved her hands in her pockets and pinned her arms to her sides to make her petite frame even smaller, better to weave through pedestrians and get through the market making as little eye contact as possible. She hardly ever had any money on her and what little she might have was always saved for the absolute necessities. Shopping only served to annoy and embarrass her. Domino could only turn down the constant barrage of salespeople with so many polite “nothankyous” before she found herself grinding her teeth. Worse than the merchants were the shoppers themselves. She could physically feel their eyes burning holes into her skin, sneering at her tattered clothes and remarking the ragged shoes bound to her feet with tape. Some would even pull their bags tighter to their bodies as if the girl were planning to snatch it away from them. That hurt the most.

It was better for herself and everyone else if she stayed where she belonged: out in the wild.

It’s only a couple of days.

A scent lofted through the air that made Domino’s mouth curve into a smile. Not everything about city life was awful. In fact, there was one thing that she was always guaranteed to love, no matter which village she wound up in: the food!

She lifted her snout and took in the different aromas that danced through the air. Spices mixed with warm smoke as chefs expertly cooked their meats to a sizzling perfection. Warm, almost sour notes were sure signs of a baker pulling freshly baked bread from a hot oven. Domino began to salivate. She knew she had to get to the job board, but it wouldn’t be smart to work on an empty stomach, right? She might have just enough cash for a slice of-

“Whu-!”

She yelped in surprise as she stumbled into a wall of purple fur and quills and heard the unmistakable sound of something fragile – and likely expensive – crashing against the earth.

“Oh Gaia!” Domino shrieked. She darted to the front of the person she had just bumped into and grabbed his shoulders. “So sorry! I wasn’t lookin’!”

The boy, a fellow hedgehog with wild, indigo fur, didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, his eyes were narrowed onto a spot on the ground. His mouth gaped but the only sound to escape his lips could best be described as the high-pitched squeak of air being released from a balloon.

Domino’s eyes followed the trail of his stare that led to a film camera laying in the dirt. His hands remained open and frozen in place from where the camera had just leaped.

“Oh boy,” Domino muttered. She crouched down to survey the damage. The shell of the device was cracked in several places. Some pieces completely snapped off and lay about like thick, plastic confetti. She gingerly picked up the camera and her shoulders sank with relief to see that the lens hadn’t fractured. “Oh, this is nothin’!”

The girl rested the camera on her lap and spun her backpack around to search for tools. Once her hand made purchase of the required items, she thrust it into the air with pride. Her arm was threaded through a roll of duct tape, wearing it much like a bracelet, while she held up a heavily used bottle of super glue.

“I don’t think that’s going to-”

Just as soon as the male had found his voice, he was once again rendered speechless by the blue hedgehog as she seemed to perform rapid-fire surgery on the device. Her hands moved too quickly for him to understand what all she was doing, expertly switching from tape to glue and back, pinching here and ripping there. In what could only have been a matter of seconds, Domino sprang up to her feet and held out a perfectly in-tact camera. “Here ya go!”

The boy slowly took the camera from her hands and carefully inspected it. It was nearly pristine!

“Wh-? Hu-? How?!” he stammered, turning the camera over and gasping as he noticed she had even managed to repair some of the damage he had done to it by extended use. “It’s like it’s brand new!”

Domino returned her tools to their home in her bag and slung it over her back. “I try to leave things better than I found ‘em.”

Something about that motto resonated with the male and a grin made its way across his face. His inspection finally shifted from the camera to the peculiar person in front of him and his breath caught in his throat.

The young woman’s eyes were a striking cyan color, as vibrant as an afternoon’s sky. Her long, wild quills were the same teal hue, just a shade darker. She was waif-like for sure, but despite her small stature she had a strong presence about her that told him she could handle herself. The sweet, almost demure smile on her caramel muzzle was in direct contrast with the rough appearance of her clothes and a noticeable tear in one of her ears. This girl had clearly been through a lot. Despite that – or perhaps because of that – he found her stunning.

Domino was also rendered speechless, a rare occurrence for her. The fellow hedgehog looked to be about her age with quills as windswept as hers, though shorter and rich indigo in color. He had a larger frame– or was it the fullness of his fur that made him appear bigger? His coat was longer, scruffy and rugged, particularly in the sand-colored patches that adorned his chest and muzzle. It was so unlike her short, sleek pelt. He wore a pair of denim jeans—another oddity as male Mobians often didn’t wear clothes. And his eyes! So many different shades of green with hints of amber… like sunlight filtering through the canopy leaves onto the forest floor.

She realized she was staring and hoped that the tufts of fur that framed her cheeks would help to mask the blush that quickly made its way up her neck.

“Uh. Still, I’m sorry about breakin’ it in the first place,” Domino muttered, shoving her hands into her pockets.

“No, no need to apologize,” the male assured. His voice had a melodic cadence to it, bouncing around from soothing lows to confident highs. It was unusual but very pleasing to her ears. “If anything, I’m just as much to blame. I was the one standing in the middle of a busy street.”

Like a flip of a switch, Domino suddenly became aware of the dozens of people who were squeezing by and muttering curses at the two teenagers who were blocking their path. How odd, just a moment ago it felt like the two were the only people on the planet.

“Oh yeah…” Domino said slowly, turning her head either way to confirm that they were indeed obstructing the center of the path. “We oughtta get outta the way. Can’t have that camera breaking again!” She turned back to the boy and pushed on his chest, startling him and making him walk backwards until they reached the side of the road. She swiftly weaved and navigated them through the crowd with expertise. It was a wonder she had bumped into him in the first place. The lissome girl likely would have slipped right by him without him ever realizing she was there. Hmm, he didn’t like the thought of that.

“What’s your name?” he asked, those green eyes searching hers.

“Uh,” Domino paused for a moment. People at best ignored her; at worst went out of their way to avoid her. This wasn’t a question she was used to answering. “Domino. And you are?”

“Phlox.”

“‘Flocks’?!” She couldn’t help but blurt out. Sometimes her mouth worked faster than her brain. “Like… like a bunch of Flickies?”

The male’s eyes went wide and he snickered. “Flickies?! No, ‘Phlox’ like the flower!”

“Well hey, I dunno! Maybe your parents are really into bird watching.”

Phlox suddenly burst into a fit of giggles. Domino’s ears sprang upwards. That chuckle was so silly and boyish and… mischievous, so unlike his speaking voice. She couldn’t help but beam with playful delight just from hearing it.

“By that logic,” Phlox managed once his laughing settled down, “that would mean your parents love board games?”

Oh now this would be too fun to pass up!

“Ah, so you’re familiar with my lineage!” Domino asked impishly. “I’m the heiress to a very wealthy game manufacturing company. It’s a family-owned business started by my great-great grandparents. It’s basically required that everyone in the family be named after classic games, lest you want to give up your claim to the family biz.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes,” she smirked. “You should’ve seen the look on my grandparents face when my Uncle Chess named his son-”

Her story was interrupted by an embarrassingly loud gurgle coming from her empty stomach. She froze in place, her face instantly growing beet red. Did he hear that? Of course he heard that. The whole world just heard it. Oh Gaia, why?! “Err..”

“I… was just on my way to breakfast,” Phlox said, a lilt in his voice. “I heard some of the locals raving about this restaurant. ‘Supposed to have omelets like you wouldn’t believe. Would you… wanna join me?”

“A... restaurant…?” Domino whispered with dread. Her skin grew even hotter with anxiety. She barely had enough cash on her for some bread. A restaurant was out of the question! She had to think of an excuse but whether it was brain fog from hunger or delirium from this cute guy’s smile, she was coming up with nothing! “Um…”

Phlox sensed the girl’s dilemma and saw her subconsciously rummaging in her pockets. He pretended not to notice and looked towards his next destination.

“I hope you won’t mind-” he leaned his shoulder towards her as if sharing a secret. “I know we live in a modern era but I was raised to always foot the bill when asking a lady on a date.”

“I-I don’t need handouts!” Domino said defensively, hoping her voice overpowered the growling of her stomach.

“Easy there, heiress! I’d never suggest such a thing,” he waved his hands while he laughed, hoping to ease some of the tension. Phlox extended an open hand. “Besides, you’ll be repaying me by telling me all about this prestigious gaming monarchy you’re a part of.”

He gave her a wink and with that, she was done for.

Domino took his hand and together the two teens were off to the eatery.

—

“-and that’s why the hippos are eating marbles! Oh! That reminds me. Did you ever wonder-”

Despite her constant rambling, Domino had scarfed down her entire meal with impressive speed. Phlox’s eyes flickered to her empty plate before inconspicuously sliding his untouched side of hash browns across the table. Domino began tearing into them as well, too focused on her current story to realize the plate didn’t belong to her.

Phlox rested his cheek in his palm, smiling as he listened to the teal young woman paint another wild tale. It was immediately clear that these stories were fabricated. Each one was more extreme and nonsensical than the last, but still, the young man found himself hanging on every word. It wasn't so much the stories that he enjoyed, but the enthusiasm with which Domino told them. The way her sky-blue eyes lit up and how her thin little arms swung about wildly as she gestured with her hands, as if her petite body couldn’t contain all of the energy that was trapped inside.

“-so I’m passing through here before I’m off for my next big business venture.”

“Oh? This is a short visit?”

“Ya,” Domino finished up her last bite of hash browns before unceremoniously letting her fork clatter against the ceramic. She was unable to remember the last time she’d ever felt this full. “I never stay in one city long.”

“Why’s that?”

“Towns are… complicated,” she averted her gaze, suddenly interested in a spot of the tablecloth that she began to pick at. “Everything’s all ‘property-lines’ and ‘who-belongs-where’. It’s all about what ya own and how much of it ya got, and what you can take from someone else.” She sank back into her chair with a sigh and looked up at the clouds. Phlox leaned in. Even if momentarily, he was getting a glimpse into the real Domino. He wanted to know more about the girl who felt the need to hide behind tall tales. “It’s not like that out in the wild. Nothing belongs to anybody. It all belongs to the planet, ya know? No judgements. No hurting each other for the sake of hurting… I only come into town when I-”

She stopped herself short, realizing she’d revealed a little too much.

“Wait you’re just passing through too, yeah?”

“Huh?” Phlox blinked. He could get whiplash from how abruptly she’d redirected the conversation. “Oh. Yeah.”

“How long’re you stickin’ around?”

“Hmm, not sure yet.”

Domino laced her fingers together and used them to balance her chin. “You don’t talk much,” she observed with amusement.

Phlox chuckled. “I’m more of a listener.”

“That’s a shame. You’ve got such a nice voice, like music,” she admitted. “I’d love to hear ya talk more.”

It was possible she was just trying to divert his attention from the previous topic, but the compliment made him blush nonetheless. He rubbed the back of his neck and tittered bashfully.

“Well, what would you like me to talk about?”

Domino pointed at the newly repaired camera that sat amongst the empty stacks of plates. “What’s this all about?”

Phlox smiled and rested a caring hand on the device.

“This here’s… my dream. My pride and joy.” He looked up at Domino and she just about wiggled in her seat, excited to hear more. It wasn’t like him to talk much, especially about himself, but if the pretty lady asked… “I spent an entire year putting in extra hours at my steel working job, covering shifts when others called out, never taking time off, all so I could save up for this baby! When I first told my family I wanted to switch careers to become a photographer… Let’s just say they were not so enthusiastic. Especially my dad…” he chuckled ruefully. “He’s not one for… sentimentality. But I always have been.”

Those bright green eyes looked up to meet Domino’s and her heart leaped in her chest when she caught sight of the fervor behind them.

“There’s beauty in everything, you just have to open your eyes to see it! The world is full of so many remarkable things that we take for granted. So many magnificent little moments that will slip right by if we don’t bother to notice them. I want everyone to see what I see. I want to give these wonderful, fleeting seconds the opportunity to live on forever.” Phlox found himself surprised at how boldly he was speaking. It was a nice change, something he had been hoping to improve upon himself. It somehow came naturally in this girl’s presence. “...Photography lets me do that.”

Domino swallowed the lump in her throat, hoping her cheeks didn’t look as warm as they felt.

“W-wow. I didn’t realize I was talking to an artist this whole time.”

Phlox laughed, that mischievous, boyish chuckle erupting from him again. “Don’t get too excited just yet, Minnie. I’ve still got a long way to go and a lot to learn.”

Minnie? She’d never had a nickname before, never knew anyone long enough to have one. But this guy gave her one so casually, like they’d been friends forever. Minnie. She liked it…

“But I’ll let you in on a secret. Something the pros don’t want you to know.” He suddenly leaned across the table, making Domino’s eyes widen even more. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Sure composition and lighting and all that’s important, but really? A lot of it is being at the right place at the right time.”

He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms with a smirk. “And I just so happen to have a knack for being in the right place at the right time. A talent, if you will.”

Domino scoffed out the breath she’d been holding. “I’m not so sure about that!” She challenged him with a playful grin. “If that were true, I wouldn’t have busted your camera in the first place!”

Phlox winked and pointed a finger at her. “Ah, but that’s direct proof my gift is the real deal. How else would I have met you?”

The lady hedgehog was once again uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry, too dry! She grasped for her drinking glass and quickly took several long gulps of water. Unsure how to respond and certain her signature teal and caramel fur were now every shade of red, she thought of a question to direct attention from her.

“So,” her voice cracked through feigned nonchalance. “What brings a budding photographer like you to this quaint little town hmm?”

Phlox snickered, pleased that he could make the pretty lady blush just as much as she’d made him. “You might not think much of this place, but I’ve heard it has plenty of little hidden treasures. For one, I’ve been told of this grotto tucked away in the surrounding forest that’s supposed to be spectacular, especially if you catch sight of it at just the right time. I’m going to head out later today and try to find it.”

Domino sat up with excitement. She loved exploring and being out amongst the greenery would likely be a much needed respite after the odd jobs she’d be doing in town. It was only a couple of days, why not make the most of it?

“I’d like to see! Can I come?”

Phlox’s smile grew wider. “Y-yeah, yes!”

“Oh! Speaking of spectacular," there she went again, her mind already on to the next thing. "Have you ever been to South Island?”

“No, but it’s on my list.”

“PHLOX!” Domino drummed her hands on the table with enthusiasm. “You’re gonna love it! Just about every possible type of landscape and flora you can imagine all on one island. It’s crazy! Green Hill was my favorite. Flowers bigger than me— bigger than you! Waterfalls taller than the sky!”

“Hold on.”

Phlox stood up from his seat to pull out a small, weathered notepad from his back pocket. He flipped to a blank page and hurriedly scribbled down notes while murmuring. “South Island… Green… Hill…”

He marked a large star next to the text before standing once again to return the notebook to his pocket. He glanced up and caught the girl giggling at him.

“What?” He asked, the corner of his own mouth turning upwards into a smile.

“I’m sorry, it has to be said…” Domino used a hand to gesture towards Phlox’s legs. “… the pants.”

Phlox smirked and placed his hands on his hips. He pretended to be offended, but mirth was evident in his tone. “I don’t get what’s so funny about my jeans. After all, you’re wearing pants.”

“Yeah but not many men wear ‘em.”

The young man counted on his fingers with each point he made. “They’re stylish. They’re practical. How else can I store my things?”

Domino pointed her thumb towards the pack on her back.

“Nah,” Phlox hooked his thumbs on his belt loops. “Backpack’ll never look this cool.”

“Ooookay, if you say so!” Domino laughed, waving her hands in defeat.

The tolling of bells from the town church broke the two from their lighthearted argument. Domino counted the chimes and realized more time had passed than she originally thought. As much fun as she was having, she had to get back to her priorities. She had a lot of work to do and not much time to do it.

“Well, Mr. Cool Guy,” she dusted the crumbs from her clothes as she rose up from her seat. “Thank you very much for breakfast but I’ve got some very important duties that need attendin’.”

Phlox caught her hand just before she was out of reach. His voice was soft but determined. “I’ll see you later? At the town entrance, at 4. Yes?”

Domino noticed a tangible spark as their fingers met. The feel of her hand in his and the passion in his eyes made her heart race.

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

[CHAPTER 2]

#my fanfiction #my fanfics #my fics #my work #my au #my ocs #domino the hedgehog #phlox the hedgehog #dominoXphlox #sonic's parents #sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic trash #fan fiction #fan fic #phloxino #sonicparents #YoungXStupid

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uss-edsall · 8 months ago

Text

I genuinely think one of the best videoogame announcement trailers ever belongs to Wolfenstein: The New Order. Rebooting an old franchise for a new decade, it had to make a distinctive splash, and it did so with aplomb. I adore it because of the visuals and music alike. Under the cut below's an infodump looking through the scenes.

The music is composed by Mick Gordon of future DOOM fame, and is a mix that adds an excellent prequel to Jimi Hendrix's All Along The Watchtower. This is especially poignant considering Hendrix is, quite literally, a fairly prominent character in the game.

As for visuals, oh, where to start? Well, at the beginning.

It starts with automation, showing something being built - the Nazi World. The first thing this creation does is erode and collapse the Eiffel Tower, in the reflection of the machine carving out the Wolfenstein symbol, and in the process showing the subjugation of France. "It was a remaking," as Blazkowicz says.

Up next is London Bridge in a pool of water, a cooling pool for superheated metals. Barrage balloons hang above her... and then the jagged metal comes into frame. It cuts to five of them, fashioned into sharp knives - and they're plunged into the pool with an audio cue, the shadows of murdered humanity rises in the steam, alongside faint screams.

London, and Britain soon after, has fallen. "Unethical," indeed, Blazkowicz.

The next shot showcases the bullets being created. The drumbeats match that of a marching military unit, a Nazi parade goosestepping on the wall behind a conveyor belt. Upon it, bullets are being created, the Nazi war machine is ascendant, on the march, towards its next conquest.

Imperfections are carved out of the helmet of the chassis. In the sparks is shown the Statue of Liberty, wreathed in flame - and as the music swells, she loses her head and is visibly damaged.

The armour turns as the factory works on it, showing the Empire State Building defining the New York City cityscape. Bombers are in her skies, flames wreath her buildings, and she burns. "Some... unthinkable." The Nazis have come to American shores - and defeated the Arsenal of Democracy.

The weapons are loaded. Finishing touches on the robot's eyes. The World War is long over - this is a Nazi machine now. The music drops perfectly into the real intro of All Along The Watchtower. "Now they've built a new world..."

The eyes spark to life, an evil red. A flash of lightning pouring rain. "Armies, of steel, and thunder..." It pans out to show an army of robots just like the one we watched being built. "They're rewriting history..."

Captain William Blazkowicz, standing proud and defiant, shotguns in both hands. He can take 'em. He can take all of 'em. Finally, stopping on a key visual and showing the title Wolfenstein: The New Order...

"But they forgot about me."

In my opinion, I think it's not only a fantastic trailer in terms of visual and musical design, it was a great way to announce the return of the franchise. In a minute and thirty seconds, they depict the destruction of the Allied powers, the fall of democratic civilisation. But here comes our dashing hero, our growling classic FPS soldier man, back again - ready and willing to wreak havoc and kill nazis.

#Wolfenstein

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monkeyssalad-blog · 2 months ago

Video

flickr

Marine Corps barrage balloons, Parris Island, S.C. (LOC) by The Library of Congress Via Flickr: Palmer, Alfred T.,, photographer. Marine Corps barrage balloons, Parris Island, S.C. 1942 May 1 transparency : color. Notes: Title from FSA or OWI agency caption. Transfer from U.S. Office of War Information, 1944. Subjects: United States.--Marine Corps World War, 1939-1945 Barrage balloons Air bases United States--South Carolina--Parris Island Format: Transparencies--Color Rights Info: No known restrictions on publication. Repository: Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, Washington, D.C. 20540 USA, hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.print Part Of: Farm Security Administration - Office of War Information Collection 12002-32 (DLC) 93845501 General information about the FSA/OWI Color Photographs is available at hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.fsac Higher resolution image is available (Persistent URL): hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/fsac.1a35173 Call Number: LC-USW36-1044

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cinnbar-bun · 9 months ago

Note

AHH HI!!!! i am so sorry this is such a self indulgent request but ;w; perhaps a short fluffy weather x reader for a reader who is getting surgery soon and is nervous? AHHH no worries if not please don't worry at all if your requests are full or anything like that!!!!!

A/n: Of course, my darling! Please enjoy!

Weather Report Comforting a Reader Getting Surgery

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~.7k

Notes: Reader is GN! Not particularly specified pre! or post!amnesia WR. WR's name is not used. Of course, this is related to surgery so there are talks of procedures or being in the hospital. Overall fluffy <3

He knows you’re extra nervous about the idea of having surgery. It’s understandable, really. And even if you weren’t nervous, he’d totally be by your side supporting you.

He likes to go online or read books about the procedure that you’ll be doing, for peace of mind for himself and you (he finds he is a lot calmer when he understands just what to expect and what will happen to you). This does lead to him looking up the best ways to care for you afterwards, which he is especially taking note of.

He is going to be your big rock during the ordeal. Because he spent so much time researching and going through the possibilities of what could occur, he’s much more relaxed and able to articulate himself better. He feels less worried and tries to walk you through what will happen, and what he’ll do to cheer you up and care for you while you’re recovering.

Weather might even suggest taking you out to get your favorite things or other supplies you all will need after the surgery is completed. If preparation helps soothe your head, he’s up for it.

Well, he won’t really make mention of this, but he’s kinda happy you’re looking to him for comfort and that you’ll be relying on him. He’s always been a devoted man to you, and he likes that you desire his company. It makes him feel ‘useful’ to you and proud that you chose him over others to help.

Weather didn’t exactly say he was a complete ‘good’ guy, you know? He does have a bit of a streak within him.

Selfish thoughts aside, Weather is completely dedicated to spoiling you rotten and doing what needs to be done. It doesn’t matter if you even wake him up at two in the morning asking him for water, he’ll do it. He won’t even make a face, he will happily do as you ask in order to provide you a bit of comfort and ease while you rest.

He would not be nervous during the surgery. Don’t worry, Weather isn’t exactly planning on electrocuting any staff anytime soon. He trusts them to do their job, especially once he knows what will happen. He will instead quietly stick to reading the channel guides or some random magazine in the lobby.

He’s patient enough, after all, this concerns you and he’s focused on how you are doing. So he’ll stay waiting for as long as he can, even if the staff tries to kick him out. His back is killing and he’s exhausted, but for you, he will wait longer. Don’t even question that, dear.

This did not occur to weather, but once he saw some other people waiting to visit the patients with balloons or flowers, he realized you’d probably like something to wake up to as well.

It all depends on what you like, but if you like the usual teddy bear or bouquet of flowers, he’ll buy a big one and rest it against the table for you.

But if you don’t like those gifts or prefer something else, chances are, he already knows, so he’s going to buy you your preferred gift to cheer you up.

If asked why he bought a gift, he just looks at you with a cheeky grin and shrugs, insisting you shouldn’t think so hard about it and just enjoy it. After all, you’re his partner, you know? Isn’t it only natural that he of all people is spoiling you? Now, stop questioning it, silly, you have to recover.

And also, this weather girl is reporting a 99% chance of cuddles and a barrage of kisses from Weather to you. Grab your finest blanket and find the nearest comfiest spot in the house to ensure maximum affection from your lover. These conditions shall persist for the duration of your recovery, and perhaps forever, if you’ll allow it <3.

#x reader #reader insert #jjba #jojo #jjba x reader #jojo x reader #weather report #weather report x reader #jojo part 6 #jjba part 6 #stone ocean #jjba stone ocean

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utapri-translations-uuuu · 24 days ago

Text

The True Form - Translation (真実の姿)

Please do not repost/retranslate without permission.

I have also made a version which includes the members' notes found in the script.

[Return to the Emerald City - Emerald City, Oz’s chamber, daytime]

The five of them, triumphant, go to report to the Wizard of Oz.

With great enthusiasm, they open the door to Oz’s room and enter.

Theo: Oz-san! We’ve defeated the Witch of the West. The evidence has dissolved in water and disappeared, but this Golden Cap should be proof enough!

Oz hides behind a partition in a flustered panic.

Oz: Hey! Who gave you permission to come in here?

Tin Woodman: We don’t need permission to deliver good news, do we?

Lion: Meeting one at a time might be the rule, but having each person’s wish granted one by one is a hassle, so we all came together.

Oz: Ah... um... about your wishes...

The five listen attentively, their eyes sparkling.

Theo: Uh-huh…?

Terry: Uh-huh…?

Scarecrow: Uh-huh…?

Tin Woodman: Uh-huh…?

Lion: Uh-huh…?

Oz: Even a great wizard needs preparation. After all, there are many wishes, and each one is quite special.

Theo: … What!?

Terry: … What!?

Scarecrow: … What!?

Tin Woodman: … What!?

Lion: … What!?

Oz: Now, please leave this room at once. It’s for your own sake too.

The Scarecrow looks around the room restlessly.

Scarecrow: … But why won’t you show yourself? Let’s talk face-to-face!

Oz: No... that won’t do. I need to prepare... I must spruce up first...

Lion: You can do that in a flash with your magic!

Oz: Fool! Magic shouldn’t be used for such trivial things! In any case, that’s enough for today’s discussion!!

Terry: Aah, jeez!! I can’t take it anymore! I don’t care about your excuses, just come out already!! Do you have any idea how hard we’ve worked to get here? I know you’re hiding behind that partition!

Terry kicks the partition.

With a loud crash, the partition is knocked over.

Silence falls over the group as they stare in shock.

Theo: Eh-…!?

Terry: Eh-…!?

Scarecrow: Eh-…!?

Tin Woodman: Eh-…!?

Lion: Eh-…!?

Theo: You’re… the Wizard of Oz…!?

Scarecrow: Aren’t you just a regular person!?

Oz tries to cover his face and body with his hands.

Oz: D-Don’t look at me…!

Lion: Then what about the forms we saw before!?

Oz: Those were… fabricated appearances I created... Like stage tricks, they were all illusions.

Scarecrow: So… you tricked us? You’re nothing but a humbug!?

Oz: I am a humbug, yes! That’s why I avoided meeting anyone. I knew one day I would be found out…

Lion: Found out? Then you’re saying…?

Oz: Yes, I’m just an ordinary human. Like you, I came from America.

The two exclaim in unison.

Theo: What!? From America!?

Terry: What!? From America!?

Oz begins to share his story, his expression tinged with melancholy.

Oz: I was a balloonist. I was in a promotional balloon for a circus, and I got blown away and ended up in this country.

He recounts the tale with animated gestures.

Oz: Because I descended from the sky in the balloon, people believed a wizard had arrived. This country had long awaited a great wizard, and they thrust that role upon me.

Theo: A world where even an ordinary human can become a wizard…

Oz: Yes. But without real magic, it was a difficult feat. Still, I’ve managed to keep up the act by using my wits to deceive people.

Oz points to various emerald-colored furnishings nearby.

Oz: Emerald City is an illusion. By having everyone wear emerald-green spectacles, I made everything appear green to magnify my greatness.

He walks over to the crystal ball and strokes it gently.

Oz: I spread rumors that I was a fearsome, temperamental wizard to limit visitors and keep my secret. During my time as a wizard, I gained the trust of the people by relying on the power of the magical tools that were offered to me, and that’s how I got to where I am today...

The companions barrage Oz with questions.

Terry: So you can’t actually use magic…?

Oz: Correct.

Scarecrow: Can’t you give me a brain!?

Oz: I certainly cannot.

Tin Woodman: Then, my heart…?

Oz: If I could do that, I’d be a real wizard.

Lion: And the courage you promised me…?

Oz: I wouldn’t even know where to begin with something intangible like that.

The three sigh heavily and slump their shoulders in disappointment.

Scarecrow: (sigh)

Tin Woodman: (sigh)

Lion: (sigh)

Terry steps towards Oz and asks, his gaze sharp and determined.

Terry: Even so, since you came from America, you must know how to get back, right?

Oz shakes his head.

Oz: If I knew that, I wouldn’t still be here... I want to return too. But the balloon I arrived in is ruined, and there’s no fuel in this world. No matter what I do, it’s impossible.

Tin Woodman: No options left... How hopeless...

Lion: You were our only hope…

Oz: Why are you so disheartened? You’ve already obtained what you desire through this journey.

The Scarecrow holds out both of his hands.

Scarecrow: What…!? I don’t have anything, though.

Oz: You overcame countless hardships, reached the Emerald City, and even defeated the Witch of the West, something no one else had managed to do.

Oz places a hand on his chest, nodding slowly.

Oz: What you sought was always within you. You just hadn’t realized it yet. Waiting alone won’t make your abilities manifest. It’s through experience that they blossomed and became yours.

He looks at the group closely and addresses them one by one.

Oz: Though invisible, it’s there. And that’s more valuable than anything else.

He walks up to the Scarecrow and pats him on the head.

Oz: Even without a brain, you have the wisdom to think through acquired information and respond appropriately.

He walks up to the Tin Woodman and thumps him on the chest.

Oz: Even without a heart, you have a kind spirit that can be considerate of others and cherish them more than anyone else.

He walks up to the Lion and firmly grabs him by the shoulders.

Oz: There is no living thing that does not feel fear. Courage is shown in your ability to act in the face of danger.

Terry takes another step forward.

Terry: But what about us? We want to go back to Kansas!

Oz: This land is surrounded by a desert. Crossing it is the only way to get back to the outside world.

Oz thinks of his distant hometown.

Oz: However, it’s impossible to walk through it normally. If it could be done, more people would have entered this land by now.

Terry: That means... it’s impossible...

Oz: Not quite! There’s one possibility… Seek out Glinda, the Good Wizard of the South, and ask for his help. Glinda is a real wizard, and a kind one at that. He’ll surely grant your wish.

Theo: A real… wizard!

Terry’s heart flutters with hope that they might be able to go home.

Terry: This time, we can really go back to Kansas…! How can we meet this Glinda?

Oz sends them off with a wave.

Oz: Far to the south, there is a country called Quadling. That’s where Glinda resides. I pray for your success…

#uta no prince sama #utapri #translation #english #he★vens #heavens #drama cd #kira sumeragi #eiichi otori #nagi mikado #eiji otori #van kiryuin #yamato hyuga #shion amakusa #dreaming of oz #dms

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mockerycrow · 2 years ago

Note

Roommate Simon does NOT celebrate his birthday as a very stern rule. You think he should be celebrated because of course he should. So while he's in the shower, you steal his phone and use it to send your number to his friends. They play along. Everyone shows up two weeks before his birthday. There's games and drinking and shenanigans and his favorite movies. Nobody says the word "birthday" ever but he's onto you. And honestly, he's not mad. (Well, he's a little mad that Gaz and Soap went a little too hard with the water balloons and you might have the most minor concussion from it but he's not mad about the Not A Birthday Party)

at first, simon is very conflicted. because he knows what this is, but you technically never said birthday and neither has anyone else. he’s quiet and stays to the sidelines like usual and you wouldn’t know it, but.. he’s actually have a good time.

he is the one to bark insults when you end up holding your head in your hands from Gaz and Soap’s barrage of water balloons in the backyard, managing yourself a minor concussion, but that’s the ONLY thing he gets mad at.

Simon, at the end of the night, is outside with you, sitting in a couple of chairs and looking at the stars. he’s smoking a cigarette, alcohol in hand, and he looks over at you, his face softening for the first time since you’ve met him. it’s his silent thank you.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost blurb #crow’s thoughts

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evertidings · 2 years ago

Text

yes, i meant to post this three days ago. yes, i technically missed [A]'s birthday. and yes, i feel absolutely terrible about it. i've been so so busy lately that i've been losing track of my days and ah, it's horrible. but i managed to whip up a little birthday drabble for my favourite sunshine angel for the occasion, which is below the cut.

enjoy !! and thank you for being so patient with me <3

contrary to Blane’s popular belief, [A] doesn’t actually think their birthday is the greatest holiday to exist. they much prefer Christmas, when they can give out gifts to people as much as they want without hearing complaints about prices. or Halloween—the one day they can wear whatever the hell they want without being violently judged.

when it comes to their birthday, all they truly want is a cake and some birthday wishes. they’re simple like that.

as much as they like to go all out for other people’s birthdays, they’ve never cared much about theirs. of course, constantly reminding people how many days there were left until their birthday was not exactly reflective of this, but deep down, [A] has never cared much. a warm wish from their family and loved ones is all they truly need.

though they can’t deny that the royalty treatment is a bonus.

on this particular birthday, [A] wakes up to a barrage of messages from a variety of people, you included. you’ll see each other at work, but seeing the message on their screen before hearing it in person somehow makes it better.

they insisted on no gifts, but unsurprisingly, you didn’t let up. they arrive at work to see a latte in your hand and a carefully gift-wrapped box, both extended to [A] with warm eyes.

friends drop off gifts throughout the day. Blane hands them a card that says “happy birthday. you’re one year closer to dying” and a gift card. [N] beams at them when they reveal their gift—a video game [A] had been wanting for months. [K] tells them they’ll give them their gift after work and Rylan sends a giant paragraph with dozens of emojis to make up for the warlock’s lack of enthusiasm, promising they’ll also give their gift later.

having hosted many surprise parties themself, they could see one coming from a mile away. but when they opened their apartment door that night to a dozen balloons, streamers, a three-layered cake that [K] baked and [N]’s dog Radar bounding up to them with his tongue out and tail wagging, all [A] could do was smile.

#drabble #a devereux #the midnight hours #interactive fiction

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whencyclopedia · 10 months ago

Photo

Dowding System

Britain's integrated air defence system in the Second World War (1939-45), known as the Dowding System after the air chief marshal of that name, included code-breakers, radar stations, observers, searchlights, barrage balloons, anti-aircraft guns, and fighter planes. Working together through a combined operations centre, these various elements ensured that the German Air Force could be better tracked and intercepted, and so, the Dowding System helped win the Battle of Britain.

Air Chief Marshal Hugh Dowding (1882-1970), commander-in-chief of RAF Fighter Command, had been determined to improve Britain's air defences in the interwar years, starting with the idea for a design competition for new fighter planes, the winners being the Hawker Hurricane and Supermarine Spitfire. In 1936, Dowding was appointed head of the RAF's Fighter Command. The position meant that Dowding controlled the operation of fighter planes, Anti-Aircraft Command (which operated flak guns and searchlights), Balloon Command (which handled anti-aircraft barrage balloons), a thousand units of early warning volunteer observers, and over 50 radar stations, a new technology Dowding had supported the development of. All of these elements would combine into what became popularly known as the Dowding System of air defence, which permitted the early detection and reception of enemy aircraft flying over Britain.

Integrated Defence

Britain's integrated air defence system (IADS) was created on 1 May 1936 after German aggression in Europe first became evident with the reoccupation of the Rhineland in March that year. The idea of pooling resources for air defence went back to the First World War (1914-18) when Germany had bombed Britain using such aircraft as Zeppelin airships. The Air Defence of Great Britain (ADGB) had lapsed in the 1920s but was now revived and expanded. The Dowding System eventually consisted of seven parts:

the fighter plane squadrons of RAF Fighter Command

the anti-aircraft artillery of Anti-Aircraft Command

the searchlights of the Royal Engineers

the lookouts of the Royal Observer Corps

static barrage balloons to deter air attacks on important sites

static and mobile radar stations

Ultra military intelligence

The first IADS covered southern England, the north and west of England, and Scotland. Volunteers of the Observer Corps scanned the skies for enemy planes and reported sightings by telephone to a local reporting centre, which in turn contacted the Operations Centre Head Quarters. Spotters at the sites with AA artillery and searchlight units did the same. With Britain's airspace divided into a massive grid, plotters at HQ could track home and enemy aircraft, making updates every five minutes. This was all well and good, but there were two fundamental weaknesses in the system. The first was that enemy aircraft would only be spotted as they approached the coast where the Observer Corps was positioned. The second was that in cloudy weather or at night, enemy planes would be able to enter Britain's air space unobserved. These problems now seemed very important to solve quickly. Britain had declared war on Germany in September 1939 following the latter's invasion of Poland. By 1940, Germany had marched through the Low Countries, British forces had abandoned the Continent in the Dunkirk evacuation, and France had fallen. A German invasion of Britain (Operation Sea Lion) looked imminent, and it would surely be preceded by the Luftwaffe (German Air Force) attacking Britain's airfields and strategically important industries as it tried to gain air superiority. Fortunately for Britain, technology came to the rescue with a new and highly secret 'weapon' that proved decisive in the coming air battle, the Battle of Britain, officially dated as 10 July to 31 October 1940 by the Air Ministry.

#History #DowdingSystem #Britain #AirDefence

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damned-punk · 10 months ago

Text

What You Won’t Ever Find (Kidd x Reader)

Part Four

.⋆⁺₊⋆˚｡ ☠︎︎ ⋆｡˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚｡ ☠︎︎ ⋆｡˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚｡ ☠︎︎ ⋆｡˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚｡ ☠︎︎ ⋆｡˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.

Content Warning: nsfw, modern!AU, suggestive language, unhealthy attachment, angst

Content Description: gn!reader meets Kidd in a bar and their relationship develops from there ♡

.⋆⁺₊⋆˚｡ ☠︎︎ ⋆｡˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚｡ ☠︎︎ ⋆｡˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚｡ ☠︎︎ ⋆｡˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚｡ ☠︎︎ ⋆｡˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.

The weeks following your intimate morning with Kidd were filled with many more spent together, the quality time working to greatly substantiate the connection between the two of you. You were pleased with how open he’d been with you, often turning to heavy talking points late in the evening or early in the morning. You’d learned a lot about him, his personality, and how his friends functioned more like family. You assumed that he’d want to be exponentially more physical after that morning, but he seemed to value your company no matter the level of intimacy. It was refreshing and in great contrast to the way he’d made himself seem the night you’d first met. There were times when it felt like he treated you the same as he treated Killer, a trusted confidant but not by the usual implications that come with the addition of a lover.

Speaking of Killer, Kidd had mentioned that his birthday was coming up and they’d decided to have his party at the bar. From what you’d been told, they were known for throwing the occasional rager but it’d been a while since the last event. Kidd offered to drive, asserting that he’d pick you up so that the two of you could arrive together. He’d carefully maneuvered around the detail that Hip would be in attendance with the rest of their friend group, a fact that he knew would cause unnecessary worry.

He’d kept his word, arriving at your agreed upon time and unleashing a relentless barrage of compliments at how good you looked all dressed up for him. Being in his car surrounded by the scent of cologne mixed with the ever present undertone of metal from his job and a calloused hand lightly squeezing your thigh was working to solidify the ambiance of the evening. It’d been a while since the last time you’d went out with his group, a thought that was creeping in the back of your mind as he pulled into the lot. As always, a small number of them were postured outside the door smoking. You recognized Hip immediately as she was holding onto Mosh’s arm and smiling at Kidd’s arrival. The tint on his windows had made it impossible to see if anyone else was in the car, her face all but faltering when you stepped out alongside him.

It wasn’t an appropriate time or place to approach her, it was Killer’s night after all, but you wanted to break the tension so badly. You still weren’t sure what’d happened to cause her reluctance but nevertheless, it’d have to wait for another time. Kidd lead you to the door, greeting the group in passing but opting to get you inside. A cake was decorated and placed on a table in the middle of the room with balloon themed plates, the bar otherwise looking like its usual self. It seemed like the others were only holding back in lieu of Kidd’s arrival, immediately pouring shots and tipping them back one after another. You refrained from the festivities, hoping to provide the two of you a safe way home at the end of the night.

Killer seemed to be having a great time, which made you happy. The cake was left entirely ignored which made you laugh, they were far too wrapped up in their own antics to even begin the process of lighting candles. Kidd seemed to take notice of your amused face, snaking a hand over your waist and trailing to knead the plush of your hip. The sudden affection wasn’t unwelcome but it was admittedly uncomfortable in front of his friends. You gently removed his hand, attempting to place a quick peck on his lips to satiate him when he drunkenly stumbled until your back was against the top bar. Your hands instinctively met his chest, firmly pushing him back in an attempt to stop the barrage of kisses he was aiming to litter across your neck. The scent of liquor was intense and you could feel patches of lipstick being smeared across your skin by his imprecise movements. He groaned in annoyance when you used the leverage on his chest to push yourself away, effectively freeing yourself from his grasp.

“Not right now…”, you said in a stern but calm tone, aiming to diffuse the situation and redirect his attention back to his people.

“Goddammit (Y/N)!”, he yelled out rather loudly, taking you and several others by surprise, “You’re not drinking, you won’t kiss me, what the fuck? Why are you even here?”

Shock coursed through your body like fire, your ears burning as anger and embarrassment crested within you. This was your first time out as some undefined semblance of a couple, even more pressing that the night was supposed to be focused on Killer but Kidd was making a scene out of the two of you. You stood totally frozen as he stalked his way to the other side of the top bar, seeming to reintegrate with his crew just as quickly as he’d blown up. Everyone refused to look at you and you began to feel totally out of place, just like the first time you’d met. You knew that his actions were the result of the alcohol, but it didn’t ease any of the feelings hurt by his behavior. It was too much and with no one to turn to, you opted to just leave. It seemed like the best option as it would preserve the remainder of Killer’s birthday and give Kidd time to sober up.

As you reached the edge of where the parking lot met the main road, you listlessly scrolled through your contacts in search of someone who might be able to pick you up. You heard the door of the bar be thrown open and slammed shut. You couldn’t turn to face whoever it was, far too focused on keeping yourself together and preventing the already welling tears from falling. Footsteps that were far too light to be Kidd’s drew closer, stopping when they reached your immediate proximity.

“Are you alright?”, the voice was familiar, one that you hadn’t heard in a while.

Hip had a sad smile on her face, reaching out to place a comforting hand on your back. Her presence caused a whiplash of emotions. She’d been avoiding you consistently for so long that you’d long considered your friendship to be over.

“I will be.”, you answered honestly, feeling no need to mask your feelings, “I think I should just go… This night was supposed to be for Killer and we can’t talk while he’s drunk anyway.”

“I can take you home… I mean, if you’d be comfortable with that.”, Hip offered with hopeful eyes, appearing very genuine in her concern for your wellbeing.

You felt a sense of reluctance but accepted in spite of the awkwardness, feeling a sick sense of nostalgia washing over you as you sunk into her passenger seat. This was a disgustingly familiar experience, all too closely resembling the night she’d first convinced you to meet her and her friends at the establishment. Both nights revolved around Kidd’s actions, only occurring in drastic dissonance from one another.

“I know this probably isn’t the best time, but I’m sorry for being so distant.”, Hip broke the silence that had settled between the two of you, “I don’t regret bringing you to meet everyone but I have to be honest, I didn’t know what to do when Kidd told us he was interested in you.”

“What do you mean?”, you asked, her confession entirely too perplexing and not exactly helping you feel any better about the situation at hand.

“He is completely unconnected from his feelings and has a tendency to string his partners along. I’ve watched it happen so many damn times and I know it’s not something that he sets out to do, but something like what happened tonight is almost always inevitable. He starts fucking someone and let’s it go way too far.”, she explained as a feeling akin to repulsion bubbled beneath your skin, “I didn’t want you to end up in that position with him, but I didn’t know how to tell you without coming off like I just didn’t want the two of you to be together. I love Kidd, he’s a great friend and a great person, he just isn’t great in a relationship.”

“I care about Kidd a lot and I have to be honest Hip, gratification isn’t a major focus in our relationship. We’ve spent a hell of a lot more time getting to know each other and just enjoying each other’s company. I know that I don’t know him like you do, but I would be hard pressed to think that all of this has meant nothing to him.”, you stood your ground against her concerns, despite his actions you still believed that he cared for you in a meaningful way.

Her best efforts to not come across as abrasive were failing. You weren’t completely opposed to the idea that some of her words held merit but it was no easy feat to even slightly consider the possibility that Kidd wasn’t as interested in you as he’d led on. Not only had the two of you forged a physical connection, you’d also shared very intimate details of your pasts and what you’d both like to see in the future. You were always happy to listen to him and it felt like you’d gotten to know parts of him that no one else ever had.

“Has he ever mentioned Victoria?”, Hip asked after several quiet minutes.

“No, he hasn’t.”, your chest tightened with the realization you might not have actually known him as well as you’d thought, “Who’s Victoria?”

“She was Kidd’s girlfriend a long time ago and they didn’t work out.”, Hip explained, “Not long after they broke up, she got in an accident and… She didn’t make it.”

You sat silently, trying to make sense of what Hip was saying. That was one hell of a detail of his life that Kidd had never mentioned. He’d lightly brought up his past experiences with partners who just weren’t compatible, but not at all something as major as a love lost.

“It happened a few years ago… He’s never really been the same since. He still hangs out with the group, but it’s only because we were around before Victoria. If we weren’t, he would’ve pushed us all away too.”, Hip continued, “He and Killer have known each other their whole lives so he’s the exception but I’m telling you, I know he wouldn’t have anything to do with us otherwise.”

“You have to understand that it’s hard for me to even begin thinking that way. He’s only ever had nice things to say and has made it a point that he’s wanted to spend more time with all of you.”, you defended him, beginning to wonder if it wasn’t just a way to reassure yourself, “Just the other day, he was telling me about how excited he was for tonight because it’d been a while since the last time your whole group was together under the same roof.”

“I don’t know… I’m sorry this is all so heavy, I just felt like telling you was the right thing to do. I don’t want you to be hurt in the process of Kidd trying to figure his own shit out. Like I’ve said before, he’s a great friend, but that’s as far as I can defend his character.”, she reiterated her point as she pulled into your driveway.

“Thanks for bringing me home, I appreciate it.”, you thanked her rather awkwardly, still fighting the lingering twinges of anger from the immense doubt she displayed in response to your relationship with Kidd.

“You’re welcome.”, she reciprocated as you stepped out of the car, “I know everything I’ve said has been hard to hear, just please think long and hard about what you want and what you won’t ever find with him. I hate to say it, but I’ve seen this happen too many times before.”

“Goodnight Hip.”, you dismissed her and carried yourself inside, running over every detail of what she’d said.

What you wanted was as a future with him in it, no matter what that may look like. As much as you loathed the attribution, there was at least some tangibility to her words when considering the events of the night. You were certainly hurt and saddened by his actions, but that didn’t mean you weren’t willing to work through the rough patch with him. If he was only stringing you along, he had a particularly sick and twisted way of doing it. What would be the point of pouring the most intimate details of his life into you, only to walk away when he was bored?

You couldn’t ignore what Hip had revealed about Victoria, but you wished Kidd had just told you himself. He might not have been ready or known how to tell you, it was a very traumatic event and one that involved an ex-partner which wasn’t particularly suited to your own developing relationship afterall. By the time you’d reached the comfort of your bed, exhaustion had pronounced itself and immediately took hold when your head hit the pillow. You slept through the incessant buzzing of your cellphone as an innumerable amount of texts and calls flooded in throughout the night, all coming from the same person.

Part Five

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A/N: Thank you for reading! All characters presented in the story have been caricatured to fit the desired plot devices. Some interactions and situations may read out of character, this is only to progress the story and does not reflect my view of their canon personalities.

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#kid pirates #one piece #one piece fanfiction #anime #one piece x reader #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #massacre soldier killer #eustass captain kid #eustass captain kidd #captain kidd x reader #captain kid x reader #what you won’t ever find

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stellamorbida · 2 months ago

Text

Luchtballon but as a fic?

Helloo, so I wrote this in like a day, out of boredom and because my friend prompted me to. :3 I hope you enjoy it!!!

Word count: 1.7k

warning: violence, guns, foul language

a/n: I hope you enjoy. Idk how much writing ill do but I might start because this was honestly so fun!

♫♪.ılılıll|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|̲̅̅=̲̅̅|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|llılılı.♫♪

The wind felt nice, it wasnt a cold breeze by any stanrdard just calm and nice as he and Stuntje floated through the air. At first, they were both skeptical of this trip but then had been convinced by the Blur Bird that flying was nice and not dangerous at all. Which was a lie and they all knew that, but the thought was nice. So they loaded onto the hot air balloon and took off. Stuntje and Joost were silent, watching as the towns went by underneath them. It was oddly silent, at least Joost thought it was. As he looked up, seeing Blue bird flying by, there was a deafening pop through the air. Stuntje looked over at Joost, watching as the man slowly turned. All Stuntje could do was swollow the lump in his throat, seeing Joosts face and the front of his iconic blue suit covered in blood and a few blue feathers. Neither said a word, only stared absently as they tried to process what had just happened.

They didnt have much time to process though, as a barrage of gun shots rang through the quiet sky. Without much warning the balloon started falling, leaving Stuntje holding on for dear life, while Joost only barely managed to keep hold. Joost let out a scream as Stuntje lost his hold, and went flying away with the wind. Everything felt in slow motion as Joost hurled to the ground, watching as the ground came closer and closer. All he could hear was air rushing by his ears, and felt as the air dried away any tears from his eyes. There was a hard thud, and Joost lay there, feeling as if his chest was going to cave in. His head pounded as he looked around the stone walls and floor of a … burning building? He could hear the fire only feet away, and tried to drag his body away from the cracking.

He mamanged to sit himself up against the wall. Letting out a few shallow breaths. “Fuck.” Joost muttered looking down at his blood soaked and torn up suit. He remember designing it with his friends, and how much effort went into the suit, but he also remember the heartache of showing it to the world, and his dreams being crushed for a simple hand gesture. His thoughts were cut short however, as he heard footstep approaching. This felt like a horrible nightmare, like something out of one of those jumpscare videos or old videogames he would play when he was a kid. The two men stopped in front of the door, looking like statues as Joost watched them. “Hello?” He managed to cough out, his chest still feeling tight and his lungs breathless. There wasnt much time for Joost to do anything as the men scouped him up by the arms, his shoulderpads rammed into his face and the men dragged him out of the building and into the burning streets. Joost could only managed to lift his head, seeing trashcans on fire, people dancing and celebrating as he was dragging, almost paraded around the streets.

Stuntje answered the phone, Apsons voice coming through the line. “Joost has been taken.” He said coldly, his voice soft and quiet, however his tone had the bit of a venomous snake. Stuntje didnt need another word as he hung up, pulling on his coat and heading outside as the TV played some of the Eurovision commentary bullshit. He grabbed the keys hanging by the door, slamming the door suht behind him as he started up the bike. He and Apson were going to save Joost from those savages who considered themselves people, despite locking people up and shaming them without even evidence or proof.

Joost woke to a weird sensation, like he was freezing but he wasnt shivering. He managed to crack open his eyes, noticing he was dressed only in his under clothes, his precious suit nowhere to be seen. It took a moment for Joost to sit up and take in his surrounding. A cold box of a jail cell. He looked over, managing to see.. Lyon? In one of the other cells, wearing a black suit and looking glum as he leaned against the wall. Only a look was exchanged between the two before Joost got up and walked to the bars. He could also see Tantu in one of the cells, sitting on the bed with his head down in shame. Joosts attention was caught by happy yelling and cheerful shouts from outside. He walked over to the high window, taking a moment before jumping up onto the ledge, managing to pull himself up enough to look out the bar to see that same beloved suit on fire, people dancing and cheering around him.

It felt as though Joosts heart was going to break once again in his life, that suit meant so much for just being a, well, suit. However a sound behind him caught his attention from the burning blue suit. Turning his head, he was almost shocked to see Stuntje standing there, holding a pistol and dressed in black. It took a moment before Joost took a breath, dropping down from where he was perched before practically jumping onto Stuntje. “Your alive, youre here?” Joost whispered, clutching onto Stuntje for life as the man hugged him back. “Of course, you are my best friend after all. Now lets get out of here. It didnt take long to escape, considering most people were too busy celebrating the burning of his suit, and soon the air was ruffling his hair as the motorcycle speed through the tunnel, Stuntjes arms clutched around his middle. It felt nice to be free, but all Joost could think of was his friends, and that stupid hot air ballon. He was surprised the cigarette managed to stay between his lips as he drove, but at the same time the burn felt good, and comforting in a way.

♫♪.ılılıll|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|̲̅̅=̲̅̅|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|llılılı.♫♪

The snow was lightly trickling from the sky, making the outside of the run down house look almost beautiful. The bike leaned against out against the curb, not a soul in sight. The TV played Joosts song Europapa in the back, his time on stage at ESC now just a haunting dream following him around for the rest of his life. Joost just continued to smoke, letting Stuntje watch the show in peace without his anger. The bag on the table was full of weapons, ready for the duo to strike those who had wrong him at Onion Corp.

The way to the train station wasnt hard, he was recogniseable in this new black suit, like it was im but from an alternate universe that no one knew. He watched as the train passed by, blowing his blonde hair off his forward, and making him adjust the glasses. Stuntje stood by his side with the duffle bag. Joost wondered if it was heavy, or if he needed to take it since he was sat in his seat, but Joost couldnt get his body to move from the angry staring at the floor.

The Onion corp. building was tall, making Joost feel like an ant, however stuntje was ready, just like he thought he was. “Well?” Stuntje broke the silence holding out a gun for Joost to take while Stuntje had a .. wait how did a whole machine gun in that duffle bag? The thought barely crossed his mind before the elevator door were opening. A smirk plastered Joosts face as he saw the confused looks turned to horror. Joost quickly dove to the side, pulling his gun out as Stuntje fired the machine gun, ripping holes in the wall as he turned from side to side. Joost left, going into a room and aiming the gun. The men aimed guns back, attempting to fire but missing. Joost missed some shots here and there too, but for the most part he was on target.

Luckily, Stuntje came in behind, firing off the machine gun yet again, scarying a killing a few of the men. However they were out numbered. Eventually the machine gun locked up, then blew up, sending Stuntje flying into the wall. Before Joost could see if his best friend was okay, he was surrounded and low on bullets. Suddenly everything went quiet, and Joost was on the roof.

“Godmode ass cheater!” Some random dude yelled from in front of a hot air ballon. All he could think of as he raised his hands, was about the ballon from before, Blue bird being shot, then to the feilds with his friend. Tantu playing beats, Lyon filming, Stuntje having fun. “You cant be free!” The man yelled, keeping the gun raised as he shouted at Joost, unaware that the tall blonde man was stuck in his own head. “I will now explain my whole plan`” However the shout was cut off as the man was kicked in the face.

Joost snapped out of his daze, looking over to see Apson, or blue bird? But blue bird wasnt blue. He was now black? “Im back.” Black bird said, turning to look at Joost, his eye confident as the other just stared in disbelief.

Suddenly a voice distracted them both. “You guys are so wholesome!” The random amn shouted, his pointed shoulders ramming his face. “Wanna have my hot air ballon?” He asked kicking his feet and smiling at the two. At some point when Joost wasnt paying attention, Stuntje came back onto the roof.

“Lets go.” Stuntje said, seemingly happy with the turn of events. Joost couldnt contain his smile as the two got in the hot air ballon, lighting the fire and taking off. Black Bird flew with them doing circles around the ballon. Stutnje rested back, same as before with his eyes closed, while Joost watched the ground below them fly by. It felt so freeing and no longer erie like the last ballon ride.

The sudden shouts from the room upstairs startled the woman as she made dinner. She let out a huff, tossing the tea towel down and started upstair. Those two boys were starting to get on her nerves. It was late and the neighbours would get mad at the yelling. “Boys!” She said, opening the door to the room. Joost and Martijn turned, looking startled as the game credits rolled on the TV. “Sorry,” Joost said sheepishly, making Stuntje nod his head at the older woman. “But we managed to finish that game!” Martijn added, prompting both boys to get up and begin explaining the whole game to Joosts older sister, making her sigh but smile.

Here is the original MV if you somehow have not watched it??? Thank you for reading!

#joost klein #europapa #luchtballon #writing #joostblr #stuntje #blue bird #fiction #short story

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