#high-calibre weapons

[historyandwarfare]

Light combat vehicles with high-calibre weapons

Requirement for wheeled armoured vehicles appeared between First and Second World Wars, and in 1930s Germany started serial production of such vehicles for its recon units. Widespread usage of wheeled armored vehicles only started after World War II. In 1970s, 1980s and 1990s, new generations of wheeled armored vehicles appear, responding to military requirements for increased mobility,…

[thatonebirdwrites]

Cheating Death Part 2

Part 1 here.

Only seconds after Lena vanished in the portal, the Kryptonite cage melted into the floor. A yellow light pulsed so brightly, Kara had to close her eyes. Light infused her cells and pushed the pain of the Kryptonite away.

Lena's words echoed in Kara's head. How she'd stomped and shouted, the tears on her face, the desperation in her voice. How heartbroken she'd been when she'd said, "No, no you don't get to tell me who I am anymore."

She didn't know what to do. Lena had been hurting and grieving this entire time, and what had she and her friends done? Celebrated her brother's death, ignored Lena's increasingly isolating behaviors, and pretended everything was fine.

It wasn't fine.

Yet, the yellow light. Why had that activated? Was it Lena or the Fortress?

Kara ran through the Fortress to the control panel. She dug into the log and swiftly found Lena's code. It had been programmed to create the cage if Kara asked about Myriad, but then the yellow light was also programmed to heal Kara after Lena escaped. A note was annotated on that section of the code, and Kara's breath caught in her throat.

"I wish I could stop loving you. This hurts worse than death."

Tears dampened her cheeks and she wiped them away. What would she tell Alex? How can she explain any of this?

She didn't want her friends to turn on Lena, and Alex definitely would go after Lena if she knew about the cage. It'd been temporary, and Lena had programed a healing sun-bed equivalent burst for after. That alone gave her hope that she could still reach Lena.

Because even in her heartbreak, Lena did not want Kara dead.

She grabbed the weapon she needed, the same one Lena had used to stop Leviathan from killing Kara, and re-calibrated security. Her tears froze on her cheeks by the time she finished.

Kara flew out of the Fortress and high into the stratosphere. She listened for Lena's heartbeat, but heard nothing at first. Fear clenched her heart. Either Lena hid behind lead, or something terrible had gone wrong since she'd left. She hoped it was the former.

With a heavy heart, she flew to the DEO. Alex waited on a balcony.

"Kara?" Alex said, alarmed. "What the hell happened? Where's Lena?"

Kara held out the weapon. "It works as hoped. Sustained blast will keep Rama Khan down, and then attach the power dampeners."

Alex took the weapon with a frown. "Kara, what happened to Lena? Where is she?"

Kara shook her head. She couldn't voice it. She refused to believe Lena was lost to them. There had to be a way to save her, to bring her back, to repair what Kara had fucked up.

She pressed her hands against her face and flinched when Alex tried to touch her shoulder. "I got to find her," she whispered. "I got to make things right. I got to."

"Kara, I can't help if you don't tell me." Alex's voice held kindness, but Kara knew how quickly Alex could turn to anger. When it came to Kara's safety, Alex might cross a line she'd regret. Kara had done it for Alex a few times.

But with Lena? Kara had no boundaries. Lena held her heart in a way no one else did. She'd talked herself into settling for Mon-el, but it'd never been who she needed.

She needed Lena.

"Kara?" Alex tried again. "Kara, talk to me."

"She's the one who shot Lex." The words felt unreal.

Alex's brow wrinkled. "I thought he died when he fell."

Kara shook her head. "We never found a body or even parts from his suit, remember? If he had a portal watch, he could have gone anywhere."

Alex sucked in a breath. "And Lena was waiting for him?"

Kara nodded. "She shot him to protect us. She's been grieving and hurting all this time, and what have we done? Ignored her grief! Where were we for her pain?" She paced the balcony as fury at herself and everyone around her built up in her sternum. "I hurt her! I hurt her with my lies, and I have to fix this."

"Kara," Alex hefted the weapon. "Maybe let Lena have her space. We still have to deal with--"

"Alex, you didn't hear her!" Her pacing quickened and a groove appeared in the concrete from her superspeed.

Kara should tell Alex, and yet she couldn't. She needed to save Lena from Myriad herself, but to do that, she needed to find Lena. And she still couldn't hear her heartbeat.

She let out a shout of rage, her fist colliding with the wall and shattering the concrete. "I hurt the person I love! I have to fix this. I have to bring her back."

Her rage petered into sobs, and she fell to her knees.

Her, the strongest and fastest on the planet, brought to her knees by a Luthor.

She thinks of all the times she could have told Lena, and how she'd chickened out, afraid of losing her. Afraid of living a life without Lena's presence. Now a Lena-shaped hole had been carved in her chest, and she hurt.

It felt like Kryptonite all over again.

Was this how Lena had felt the past few months? This agony?

And yet, Lena had still helped. She'd still saved Kara's life. Still built devices that helped others. Why Myriad? Why use that monstrous device? Kara couldn't make sense of it. The months of pretending to be Kara's friend.

She should be angry at Lena. Furious at the betrayal, but she felt only grief. She'd started this with her lies, with leaving Lena in the dark. Lena could have helped so much more if she'd been in on it from the start. Then this never would have happened.

Kara sat there, silent, head-bowed long enough for Alex to leave and return with a cup of herbal tea. Rooibos since most other teas were too intense thanks to Kara's supertaste. Her fingers curled around the warm cup.

"I tasked Brainy and J'onn with the weapons. We'll deal with Leviathan." Alex smiled and squeezed Kara's shoulder. "You do what you need to do, Kara. I'm with you, okay?"

Kara nodded numbly. She sipped the tea and slowly became aware of a high-pitched beeping. "Wait, that's the signal watch," she murmured. She put down the cup and listened. It came from downtown. "Lena," she whispered.

Before Alex could respond, Kara blasted into the sky and broke the sound barrier. The crack whipped across the city and shook windows. She landed on Lena's balcony at L-Corp, ripped open the door, and dashed into a dark room. The beeping came from the stairwell.

Horror twisted her gut. She supersped down the stairs, all forty-three flights, until she reached the stairs just below ground level near the door to security.

She threw open the door and the thick scent of iron assaulted her nose.

Eve lay in a pool of blood, no heartbeat. Someone dressed in black lay crumbled near Eve, again no heartbeat. Blood coated the stairs from where Lena must have crawled.

Lena, her Lena, lay motionless, one hand on the top step. For a horrifyingly long second, Kara couldn't hear a heartbeat. She dropped next to Lena and pressed her fingers against Lena's pulse point.

No, there it was.

A faint badum-badum, the most precious sound in the universe.

She could do nothing for the others, but she still had a chance to save Lena. A scan of her body revealed the bullet in her side, how it pierced a lung.

Kara gathered Lena into her arms, and ran through the security sector, hitting each door with her shoulder to wrench it open, until she finally made her way outside.

Lena's blood soaked into her suit, her head rolling in Kara's arms. She held her close and flew as fast as she dared toward the DEO. "Lena, please," she whispered, "please hold on. Don't you dare die on me. Not now. Not like this."

When her feet touched down, she heard Alex's voice shouting about a Rama Khan sighting. Agents poured into vehicles, and the team prepared to leave.

Kara ignored them. She walked through the bustle, and people parted for her.

Alex turned from where she studied Brainy's screens. Her eyes widened. "What the hell...?"

"Please. Help her." Tears clouded her vision.

"Medical now. Brainy J'onn's in charge." Alex grasped Kara's arm and maneuvered her through the mess of the control center. Technicians worked on last minute fine-tuning of weapons, and others manned screens plotting possible vectors. Activity that meant nothing to Kara, not if Lena died.

Not if she couldn't speak her last truth to Lena.

She laid Lena on the medical bed, and Alex ordered her nurses to get an IV in immediately. Kara began to pace, the blood drying on her suit. Alex cut away Lena's shirt and examined the wound.

"She needs surgery now."

"What do I do?" she asked Alex, anguished. "What do I do?"

Alex shook her head. "You can't help with this. Go help J'onn, and wear Lena's anti-kryptonite suit. I'm not sure how long I'll be in surgery."

"Can you save her?"

"I will try my best," Alex said. She refused to look at Kara, and that told her far too much.

Alex didn't think Lena would make it.

"Promise?" the words came out small, plaintive.

"Promise. Now get out of my way." Alex hooked the IV bag to the pole on one end of the bed, and rolled it toward an interior suite. Two nurses followed along with a second doctor.

Kara closed her eyes and listened to the most beautiful heartbeat in the universe -- it faintly hung on, slower and slower with each passing minute.

She couldn't stay and watch the medical team open up Lena. She couldn't.

Instead, she grabbed the anti-kryptonite suit. As it flowed over her, she almost wept again. It felt like Lena hugged her, the suit entirely her design and her nanites.

She flew outside and listened for J'onn. The fight was to the southeast by the docks.

Hadn't Leviathan been targeting Lena? She'd saved her once from them already. Maybe twice if she counted the break-in that had knocked Lena unconscious.

Now Lena was dying, and Kara didn't just want justice for Lena.

She wanted to tear apart whoever ordered that assassin.

The windows shook at the sonic boom, and the ground cratered when she landed.

Rama Khan and another Leviathan member battled J'onn and Dreamer, who had the weapon from the Fortress. Agents, with adjusted weaponry to match the power-disrupting frequency, scattered around the docks.

Kara didn't care about the risk. She didn't care about the Kryptonite weapons the assholes carried.

She crashed into Rama Khan and threw him into a dock building. The wall crumpled. "Did you hire Lena Luthor's killer?" she growled.

Rama Khan laughed and stood with hardly a mark on him and his ridiculous earth-toned suit. "Those who cross Leviathan do not live to tell the tale. Let you now join her, Supergirl." He extended his hand and the ground shook violently.

A blast from Dreamer's gun sent Rama Khan sprawling. Kara sped over and grabbed him by the throat. Her feet she stomped on his arms. "No one hurts Lena and survives," she growled. Her eyes glowed, and she let out a scream of grief and fury.

She blasted him and punched him again and again. Blood gushed from his face, but then he melted into the earth and stumbled into being a few feet away.

Only for Dreamer to blast him again. Kara pummeled him with the rage of a thousand suns. Her vision red, and the land ripped and shredded in their fight. Part of the pier demolished when Kara threw Rama Khan's accomplice into it. Another building fell when Rama blasted Kara into its walls.

Rama Khan slowed, each blast from the gun scrambled his powers long enough for Kara to rip into him until he bled from multiple places. She lost track of the others, so intent on eliminating the one who ordered Lena's hit.

"Kara!" J'onn clamped the power dampeners on the alien. "Kara, we got him."

Kara clenched Rama's neck and looked down to see the cuffs clasped to his wrists.

How much loss could a heart handle? Why did the universe seek to torture her so? Her entire planet, nearly all her friends, and now the woman she loves most -- loss melted through her crevices, filled her with a blinding fury.

She'd fought to keep everyone alive. It's why she needed to be in control, but that obsession of controlling everything, to make sure she never lost, had poisoned her. She couldn't control everything.

She couldn't even save Lena. The thought of Lena dying in surgery, of never hearing her voice again -- even Lena shouting in anger?

Her fingers crunched bone. Rama Khan tumbled from her grasp and hit the ground with a thump, motionless.

Dreamer and J'onn looked at her, but she didn't respond to their words or looks. Agents swarmed around them to secure the site, while Brainy set up the containment unit for Rama Khan and his accomplices. The ruckus roared like the sea in her ears.

She turned without a word and shot into the sky. She flew as high as she could, to where little to no oxygen existed. The fury burned in her, and she wanted to rip herself apart. She deactivated her helmet, turned off its life support systems, and let the lack of air suffocate her and her emotions.

She'd live. She'd always live, wouldn't she? While all she loved died.

She closed her eyes and let herself fall. Air whooshed around her body, screamed in her ears as she hit terminal velocity. For those brief moments, she heard nothing but the shrill wind, the rest of the Earth drowned out in her fall. A moment of release from the endless soundscape.

Halfway to the ground, she righted herself and flew to the edge of Earth's atmosphere. Again she let herself fall. For a third time, she soared high and fell.

Each time she let herself get closer and closer to hitting the ocean. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't outpace her fury at her own actions. At her failure.

This time she hit the water. She sunk into its depths.

Sea life swam around her, the distant calls of whales rippled through the water. What should delight her brought her sorrow.

No, she couldn't die. Her wretched powers, her curse, kept her alive. Kept her isolated from those she loved. Her careful, practiced control meant even in moments of extreme emotion, she still had to make sure not to hug too tightly. And kissing? How many noses had she broken?

All she wanted was Lena. Even if she could never be with Lena, she needed Lena to be alive. To be healthy and happy. Kara could live with just being on the sidelines, right? As long as Lena was alive.

She burst out of the ocean in a shower of sea water. She hung in the air and watched the waves below her. Her ears tuned to her favorite heartbeat, and there it was, faint, far too faint, but still pulsing.

A slither of hope wove into Kara's wretched spirit. She flew back to the DEO, the wind drying the moisture from the sea.

When she landed, Nia met her at the balcony's doors. "Kara," she breathed out as if she'd been running. "Been looking everywhere."

Kara crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

"It's Lena. Alex said to let you know the surgery is ongoing and Lena's handling it like a pro." Nia met her gaze, but worry painted across her face. "Don't lose hope yet. She may still live."

Kara said nothing. She heard the rebuke in Nia's words, but she didn't regret her actions. For Lena, there was no boundaries. She'd destroy a thousand Rama Khans if it meant saving Lena.

She followed Nia down the hall, through two intersections, and into the medical bay. Most of the beds were occupied by injured agents from the Leviathan battle. It was the surgery room that occupied all of Kara's attention.

Lena's heart beat still in those glass walls.

Kara walked up to them and pressed a hand against the cool glass. Lena looked so pale. So fragile.

The tears returned. Her chest constricted with a Lena-shaped hole that ached with each beat of her heart.

She didn't move from that spot for the rest of the surgery. Kara held vigil in silence, unmoving. She'd given Lena revenge on those who tried to kill her, and now Kara waited.

Waited for hope to dawn once more.

/end part 2

[ha-rinrin]

Wired for War

Summary: You and your beautiful wife, Jinx, are preparing for war, and you decide to let your family step into the game.

Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader (you come from a powerful family)

Wordcount: 2.1k

Authors note: soo, this randomly popped up in my head and I HAD to write it, I love married jinx x reader its an obsession. Hope you enjoy this one!

Jinx was hunched over her workbench, the dim lights of her lab casting flickering shadows over scattered blueprints, spare parts, and glowing vials of chemtech. She was absorbed, her eyes lit with a fierce focus as she twisted wires and calibrated triggers, whispering to herself with excitement. In her hands, each screw and bolt was a promise of devastation to come, a chaotic edge Zaun would soon wield.

Just as she adjusted her goggles, ready to test her latest creation, a familiar voice echoed through the room.

“Well, if it isn’t my destructive little genius.”

Jinx froze mid-assembly, a wicked grin spreading across her face before she turned around. “You know I can’t concentrate when you sneak up on me like that,” she teased, eyes narrowing playfully as they roamed over you.

You chuckled, stepping fully into the room, and Jinx felt a surge of warmth as you closed the distance. Dressed in sleek attire that hinted at the influence of your powerful family overseas, you looked as formidable as you did elegant, a reminder of the depth of strength you brought with you.

“Just checking on my favorite weapons designer,” you said, reaching out to tilt her chin up so she looked at you. “I see you’ve been busy,” you noted, glancing over the disassembled parts and the eerie glow of her latest chemtech concoction.

Jinx smirked, her hand resting over yours briefly. “Busy is an understatement. You know, I’ve got some surprises for Piltover that’ll blow them right off their high horse.” Her voice was charged with enthusiasm, that hint of chaos behind every word.

You nodded, running a hand along one of the blueprints on her desk. “I’d expect nothing less from you. But remember, there’s more to this than firepower.” Your eyes softened as they met hers, the playful glint in your gaze tempered by genuine concern. “War can be dangerous, even for a genius like you.”

Jinx’s smirk softened. “And that’s why I’ve got you, don’t I?” She stands up, leaning her back against the workbench, crossing her arms. “The powerful, mysterious wife with all the connections. You’re my ace, y’know that?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Maybe, but you’re still going to be careful, right?”

Jinx stepped closer, slipping her arms around your waist as she murmured, “I’m always careful. Well, careful enough. Besides,” she smirked, looking up at you through her lashes, “you’d come storming in to save me, wouldn’t you?”

A grin tugged at your lips. “Oh, I would. But let’s try not to get there, alright?”

Jinx laughed softly, brushing her lips against yours. “Alright, wife. Just for you.” Then, with a mischievous glint, she added, “Now, wanna help me test out some of these bad boys?”

You immediately got to work, testing the connections on a detonator Jinx had just handed over, both of you shoulder-to-shoulder at her chaotic workbench. The room was filled with the faint hum of chemtech and metal grinding against metal, but the real electricity was in the way her gaze lingered on you, pride and mischief flickering in her eyes.

As you adjusted the detonator, you broke the silence with a casual mention. “I spoke to my parents about all this,” you said, glancing at her. “They offered their soldiers to support Zaun.”

Jinx’s eyes widened as she paused, looking at you with a mix of surprise and delight. “Wait, seriously?” Her smirk grew wider, almost mischievous. “They’d throw their whole army behind us?”

You nodded, a grin tugging at your lips. “Just like that. They might not be from Zaun, but they’ve got no love for Piltover. And as long as it’s to help keep you safe… well, they wouldn’t think twice.”

A flicker of warmth softened Jinx’s face. “Guess I really picked the right wife, huh?” She nudged your shoulder, her smile full of gratitude and affection. “Didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to have a family at my back… especially one that actually likes me.”

You laughed, setting the detonator back on the table. “They more than like you, Jinx. Remember the wedding?”

Jinx’s grin widened as she recalled the day. Your family, powerful and influential as they were, had completely embraced her the moment they met her. She was so different from anyone they’d ever known, but they’d loved her energy, her fire, and, most importantly, her devotion to you.

“Oh, I remember,” she said with a chuckle, her tone softening as she lost herself in the memory. “Your parents practically threw me a parade when we said our vows. Never thought anyone would get so worked up over a troublemaker like me.”

You reached out, tucking a stray strand of blue hair behind her ear. “That’s because they could see what I see. They knew you’d do anything for me, even if it meant going toe-to-toe with Piltover.”

Jinx smirked, a glint of mischief in her eye as she looked back at the blueprints. “Guess they’ve got good instincts. But it goes both ways, you know.” She leaned closer, her voice soft but fierce. “Anything for you, too.”

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Then we’re both all in.”

Jinx grinned, slipping her fingers through yours. “Looks like Piltover’s got a storm coming. With you at my side—and that little army of yours—they don’t stand a chance.”

Your fingers brushed over a pile of metal scraps, picking up a thin wire as Jinx adjusted the fuse on her latest invention. The two of you worked in sync, comfortable and in tune, even amidst the chaos of her lab. She was about to speak when you decided to drop the real bombshell.

“That’s not all,” you said, your voice low, but carrying a weight that made her look up instantly. “My family’s pulling out all the stops. They talked to… well, you’ve heard of the Black Rose?”

Jinx’s brow shot up, and a spark of curiosity lit in her eyes. “The Black Rose?” Her voice dropped, almost reverent, like she’d just uncovered a secret too wild to be true. “You mean… the Black Rose is real? The whole dark magic, underground network, shadow-in-every-corner thing?”

“Oh, they’re real all right,” you replied, crossing your arms as you watched her face shift through surprise and intrigue. “They’re willing to offer their resources, but there’s a catch.”

Jinx tilted her head, clearly eager to hear what kind of condition such a group would demand. “What’s the price?”

“They’ll only help if we let them ‘take care’ of Ambessa Medarda,” you said, voice edged with dark amusement. “They want her gone, and not in some subtle way. They want her head.”

A wide, wicked grin spread across Jinx’s face, her eyes glinting with manic delight at the idea. “So, they want us to clear the path and let them take out the queen of Piltover’s power brokers? Just hand over Ambessa’s head on a platter?”

“Exactly.” You smirked, meeting her gaze. “They think she’s too much of a liability to leave standing. They’ll only help if they get full access to her and… take care of her their way.”

Jinx let out a low laugh, clearly reveling in the twisted web of alliances that had just come into play. “I have to say, toots, your family has taste.” She twirled a screwdriver in her hand, eyes practically gleaming. “And here I thought I’d be the craziest one in the room. Let the Black Rose do their thing, and we get all the backup we need.”

“Exactly. We get their resources, and they get their revenge on Ambessa,” you replied, feeling the thrill of the plan settle in your bones. “And my family? Well, they’re more than happy to keep the Medardas off their backs.”

Jinx leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Then let’s give them what they want. Let them paint Piltover red if they need to. With the Black Rose on our side, it’s not just gonna be war—it’s gonna be a whole damn reckoning.”

Her hand slid into yours, her grip firm and electrifying. “So, partner… ready to let the games begin?”

As Jinx’s hand held yours tightly, her wild grin softened, and her eyes, still blazing with excitement, met yours with a warmth that cut through the thrill of war planning. She leaned closer, her expression softer, almost tender—a side of her she saved only for you.

“Didn’t think I’d ever get this lucky,” she murmured, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Having you by my side… having a whole family by my side? Didn’t think it was in the cards for me.”

You felt a smile pull at your lips, squeezing her hand in return. “Well, you’re kind of hard to resist, you know.”

Jinx’s lips curled into a smirk, but there was a trace of a blush on her cheeks as she rolled her eyes. “Pfft. Me? It’s you who’s too perfect for your own good. Sweet-talking war councils and charming dark magic cults into doing our dirty work.”

“Just doing my job as your wife,” you said with a playful wink.

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine as she pulled you closer, her forehead pressing softly against yours. “Guess I got myself the best one, then.”

For a moment, the plans, alliances, and whispers of war faded away. It was just you and her, together in the quiet of her workshop, like you had all the time in the world. Her gaze softened, and she let her hand move to cup your cheek, her fingers cool against your skin.

“Stay with me,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “No matter what happens out there. Whatever crazy plan I come up with. Just… stay.”

You tilted your head, pressing a gentle kiss to her fingertips. “Always. From here to wherever this takes us.”

Jinx’s eyes sparkled with a mix of fierce devotion and rare vulnerability as she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours—a kiss that was slow, lingering, and filled with everything words couldn’t capture. You could feel her smile against your lips, that mischievous grin you’d fallen in love with, softened just for you.

When she finally pulled back, she wore that familiar, confident smile again, but it was edged with warmth and love only you could bring out. “Alright, wife of mine,” she murmured, her fingers twining with yours. “Let’s go turn the world upside down.”

As you and Jinx stood there, savoring the quiet moment, the door to the workshop creaked open. Before either of you could react, a little voice shouted, “Surprise!” and a burst of glitter erupted in the air, sparkling bits of color showering down onto you and Jinx.

You glanced down to find Isha, her face lit up with pride and mischief, holding the remnants of a small glitter bomb in her tiny hands. “Did I surprise you?” she asked, her eyes wide and gleaming with joy.

With a laugh, you crouched down, scooping Isha into your arms as she giggled, her little fingers still sticky with glitter. “Oh, you definitely got us,” you said, smiling as she beamed up at you, clearly pleased with her work.

Jinx let out a chuckle, brushing glitter off her shoulder as she watched the two of you, a soft look in her eyes. “You didn’t tell your parents about our new daughter, did you?” she teased, raising an eyebrow at you as she ruffled Isha’s hair, getting a fresh handful of glitter in the process.

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “Not yet, no. I figured the glitter bomb announcement would probably be Isha’s idea of breaking the news anyway.”

Isha squirmed in your arms, a sign for you to let her down, and so you did, her attention now fixed on Jinx’s workbench, full of half-built gadgets and brightly colored wires. “Mom, can I help?” she asked, looking up at Jinx with wide, hopeful eyes.

Jinx softened, her smirk melting into a genuine smile as she knelt down to Isha’s level, nodding. “Alright, but just this once, kiddo,” she said, her voice filled with affection. “And we’ll keep the explosions to a minimum this time, yeah?”

You watched them together, your heart swelling as Jinx handed Isha a small, harmless trinket to tinker with. She shot you a wink, her hand resting on your shoulder, grounding you in this moment that felt like a gift in the middle of all the chaos.

“Looks like we’ve got a little troublemaker on our hands,” Jinx murmured, her gaze sliding over to you as you both watched Isha focus intently on the tiny piece in her hands.

You wrapped an arm around Jinx’s shoulders, pulling her close. “Well, with a family like this, it’s no surprise, is it?”

Jinx grinned, resting her head against yours. “Nope. She fits right in.”

[hotheadedhero]

In Unrequited Love

Love and relationships can't be forced but sometimes they can be built on common ground and an understanding of one another's tribulations.

Part 2 here

Donatello x Reader

Having a crush on someone sucks. Having a crush on someone who has eyes for someone else sucks even more. This is the sad truth of your current circumstances. You knew that high school would come with its challenges but you weren’t prepared for the fact that you’d fall for the careless, hockey-loving maniac from your math class. It began with a casual friendship before feelings deepened on your end. Feelings that wouldn’t seem so terrible were it not for April O’Neil. You have absolutely nothing against the girl but it’s clear as day that she unfortunately has Casey’s heart in her stronghold. It’s not like you could even vent these frustrations, given that the only friends you have happen to be those two people. 

Then, through some shenanigans that seem like the norm for you now, you meet four turtle brothers - one of whom is in the same boat as you. Not to mention, between the very two friends in question. Were it not heartbreaking to witness each other trying your hardest to grab the attention of your crushes, you’d find some humour in this.

You tried hanging out with Raphael more in an attempt to get in close quarters with Casey, seeing as they’re practically tied at the hip, only for you to realise that the rough-and-tumble environment isn’t your strong suit. That’s when they both suggested you try your hand at assisting Donatello in his laboratory given your aptitude for the sciences. What they failed to realise is that you do well in class but that doesn’t inherently mean you enjoy it. Theoretical sciences and learning about how things work are interesting but there aren’t enough practical applications that allow you to engage in the school environment. The closest you’ve gotten to having fun was when you made “elephant toothpaste” for a chemistry lesson but that’s about it. 

Nonetheless, you see no harm in passing by the lab and giving the brainiac brothers a visit. Other than your not-so-subtle pining towards the other humans in the group, nothing has been outwardly mentioned about the situation you are both in. Neither of you has hung out enough to have that conversation. It wouldn’t be weird to talk about it, would it? A query that shall not yet receive an answer seeing as you’ve already knocked on the large, metal door. You walk through the open garage to see a couple of legs poking out from under the battle shell. 

“Huh? Oh! (Y/n), sorry- Ow!” He slides out from beneath the vehicle and rubs the fresh bruise forming on his head. “Sorry, I’m a little busy, right now. I think Leo is watching Space Heroes if you’re looking for someone to hang out with, though.”

“Actually, I came by to see if you needed any help,” you offer, holding your hands behind your back respectfully whilst also trying not to laugh. 

His eyes widen, having not expected such a proposal, and he’s quick to scramble to his feet.  “Oh, okay! Let’s see- uh… how are you with engine repairs?”

“Depends.” Your tongue clicks contemplatively. “Is it gas, electric, or hybrid?”

“That already tells me you know more than enough,” he chuckles. “Here, I’ll show you.”

He opens the hood of the van to reveal the ensemble of burnt-out parts and overworked mechanisms. The guys’ last mission must have been intense because this engine is almost in complete disarray. Were it not for the fact that your Uncle is a mechanic, you’d be sweating under the pressure of somehow ruining this heap of metal more than it already is. A probability still if you want to jinx your person but that’s getting ahead of yourself. 

Donatello gestures towards a box of spare parts and holds the back of his neck. “These just need to be taken out and replaced. It’s probably the easiest of what needs doing but I also need to finish rewiring the brakes, check the throttle calibration, replenish the weapons ammunition-”

“You need an extra set of hands to get it done quicker,” you cut him off with a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

He bares a gap-toothed smile in response and nods before resuming his initial position beneath the vehicle to finish the brake wiring. This leaves you to begin on your assigned job. For starters, you’re glad that this is a case of piecemeal repair rather than a complete engine rebuild. You’d be out of your depth were that the case. You start by pulling the entire engine out via a hoist, assisted by a load levelling bar so that it doesn’t tilt at a funny angle. Then, you secure it onto a stand and glance over what you’re working with. The crankshaft, piston ring compressor, oil filter, and fan need the most attention, so you start with those first. Just to save the disturbance, you look into a few tutorials on your phone to make sure you’re doing it correctly. 

During this entire time, the two of you work on separate parts of the battle shell in silence, seemingly content with your tasks. By now, Donnie has moved on to tightening the wheels’ lug holes. Admittedly, you had been concerned about a lack of things to talk about but this is a nice settlement. It’s certainly the most relaxed you’ve felt in a while; something to keep you distracted from the quelling of your hopeless romantic attraction. Plus, you have this sense of relief from finally being able to work on something with your hands rather than straining your brain over textbooks and pop quizzes.

"Question,” he starts abruptly, keeping his eyes on the centre cap of the wheel. “What’s it you like so much about that cave mouth?"

First, you blink quickly to yourself, having not expected to get into the nitty gritty of it so soon. So much for being distracted but you can’t be mad. Curiosity isn’t something to be berated. Then, you find yourself snickering at the mildly degrading nickname. The question may appear brash but he’s puzzled by why April seems to like Casey so much. Hearing it from you might give him the insight he needs to turn the odds in his favour. He’ll take anything at this point. 

"I dunno. There's just this air to him that I like. He's an ass, I am well aware of that, but he's fun, you know?” you admit awkwardly. “Psh! Don't ask me to explain it. You can't really put that stuff into words." You squint down at him, lips poised mockingly. "What is it you like about April so much?"

He halts his own task and glances down at his hands, cheeks reddening as he thinks about the girl of his dreams. "She just... had my heart from the first moment I saw her."

"Wow. The first girl you ever see in your life and it's just like that.” Yes, that bit of information is known thanks to our dear Raphael. “'Pretty shallow to fall in love with someone based on looks if you ask me." 

"You would know,” he scoffs sarcastically.

"Now you're calling Casey ugly?” you ask, both playful and moderately offended on your crush’s behalf. “Man, you really don't like him."

"I’m sure the same goes for you with April!"

"Hey! I don't stoop so low into my dissatisfaction of the circumstances to insult her." A wry grin then beckons your lips. "Although~"

"Whatever you think you're going to say, don't."

The staring match doesn't last long, breaking beneath a shared laugh; fond and unwilted by the ache in your hearts, which has been forgotten for a split moment to enjoy each other's company.

From that point on, that’s precisely what you did. More often than not, you found yourself in the confines of his garage, assisting him with the occasional doohickey and thingymabob. Even if there wasn’t much you could help with, you wound up being a decent lab partner in any case. In turn, he would offer to help you with your homework if you had any particularly difficult assignments. Your grades have never looked so good. When neither of you were doing that, you’d simply hang out and rant about little annoyances with your unreciprocated infatuations. 

“I mean, I try some jokes here and there but nothing seems to land,” he concedes begrudgingly, throwing his body weight into the back of his chair.

“Can I hear one?” you inquire as you gently swing around in your own seat. 

His lips press together and he mulls it over before sighing, “Okay, so, you remember how I told you about Metal Head?” You nod, to which he continues, “Well, the first time I took him out for a spin, we were on watch duty together. That’s when I asked her if she likes metal.”

He groans to himself as he replays the memory in his head, only now realising how corny that must have sounded at the time. However, you laugh and not the heckling kind either. Your head tilts back into your chair, knees lifting to compensate for the tension in your shaking stomach. How could April have not loved something as precious as that? The girl must be crazy because that would have worked on you in a heartbeat. 

“You should’ve asked if her favourite dance move is the robot,” you say in between laughs. “No, wait, wait! I got a better one! Ask her out to the circuits for a date!”

Donatello can only smile at your self-induced amusement, happy that there’s an appreciation for nerdy pickup lines and puns. They may not work on his crush - and his brothers sure don’t find them that funny - but he’s glad at least one person around here gets it. 

It felt good to know that you had a friend you could be closer to because of your mutual understanding. For the first time since you realised your feelings for your schoolmate, you didn’t feel so alone. This bond formed on cluttered affection may have seemed unlikely to begin with but who are you to complain now? You and Donnie have a good thing going given your positions. 

That is until your heart diverts its attention towards the very turtle. 

You came to the realisation when he expressed his excitement in showing you his newest invention. The fact that he had called upon you first made you feel special. It made you feel wanted and desired for the first time in your life. A seemingly small phenomenon given how he merely wanted to showcase something to you but the way it had tugged your heart was unparalleled to anything else you had ever experienced - and that smile. You could have happily fawned over that proud grin of proclaimed accomplishment and self-justified pride for the rest of that day. Then, it all came crashing down on you like heaps of scrap in a junkyard. You have fallen for someone who is in love with April. Again. Are you just doomed to fall for any man that crushes this girl? This must be some sick joke. One that you don’t find yourself laughing at. 

It eats away at you for the days - weeks - to come. You can’t console anyone on the matter, either. If any of his family catches wind, there’s a chance of him finding out. An outcome you wish to avoid if possible. As for Casey and April, dear lord you don’t even want to know what would happen if you told them. You’re at square one again just as before: crushing on someone who will never feel the same way about you. Rotting in a pool of your self-made disillusion.

Alone.

Having a crush on someone sucks.

[sunlightedcockroach]

A Tree strangler

Not connected to anything little dude, I just wanted

to draw em

1-these people live in a forest in which there is a pact of the type "no living person should enter this territory", well, they got out of this problem by creating peculiar shoes from human feet, and reviving them with necromancy.

When they come down from the trees to the ground, they put them on so that they are not cursed because of violating pact.Usually, these shoes are made from the feet of deceased ancestors and are inherited, calibrated only slightly to the new owner.

2-A knife made of cursed wood, they use it only when they don't have to eat a corpse later, it's not a weapon for hunting or small skirmishes.

3-A belt of tendons with loops for carrying things.They don't like bags and containers at all and usually carry everything on this belt/in their hands, except maybe a water bag.

4-Throwing knives made of white stone, there is plenty of it in the forest and it is not so difficult to make them.They are usually used for small game / killing or scaring people away.

5-Hooks for easier climbing on giant trees / rocks, sometimes used to slowly torture those who have especially annoyed them (they stand in a wide circle around the victim, throwing and sticking a hook into it, attract to themselves, and immediately another in the circle does the same; they drag victim on a hook over sharp stones; they hang victim on hooks on two bent trees, which spring up to tear a person apart, etc.), for this they just need to be irritated by someone up very much.

6-With these wooden clubs, they methodically beat especially large game, having previously hindered its maneuverability with a lasso.

7-A water bag made from someone's colon is wrapped as a second belt.

In the cursed forest, clean water is not too common, so they always carry a supply.

8-Actually, that's why they got the nickname: the lasso, with which they tend to hang game during hunting, throwing it around its neck, sitting in trees and jumping off so that it gets off the ground and breaks its neck / slowly suffocates (most often the first, in this forest it's better to do everything quietly).

9 and 10 - air rifle and needles to it (the tube is extended through the hole in the helmet),needed to fighting in large distances/hunting high flying birds.

They trade all the metal they use from the outside world and carefully protect it

It's not all their stuff, just what fit/what I had time to think about

[blubushie]

i love your bullet/casing post so much i jumped up and down and squealed upon reading through it do you have any more cool gun facts that people often get wrong

So I wrote a long spiel and accidentally closed my tab so now I'm pissed. Let's do this over lmao

FOR ANIMATORS/AUTHORS/ARTISTS

While the sound of a pump-action shotgun being cycled is really cool and very intimidating, YOU'RE WASTING YOUR AMMO WHEN YOU DO IT. Every time you pump a shotgun, you're ejecting a spent shell. If there's no spent shells, you're ejecting perfectly good ammo.

You rack a slide. You rack a pump-action shotgun. YOU DON'T RACK A BOLT ON A BOLT-ACTION RIFLE. You CYCLE a bolt. If I see one more person say they're racking the bolt of a bolt-action I'm gonna shove my boot so far up their--

Recoil is a bitch. You can always tell who has never fired a firearm in their life because of how they write/animate recoil. Do you know what makes fully automatic weapons dangerous to the user? The bloody recoil. It's hard to control. Your aim will move up, and especially in fully-automatic handguns or SMGs like Tommy guns which are smaller weapons, there's not much gun to brace against your body to steady it. That means it's harder to control. That makes it dangerous and puts you at risk.

THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS A SILENCER. They're called suppressors, and they don't make the gun silent. They only bring the volume down by a few decibels so (usually) you won't have to wear ear protection when firing. This is especially useful in combat scenarios like what military and police experience when you're firing in an enclosed space like a building where sound reverberates, or just firing in an indoor firing range. If you have a larger calibre firearm, bring your suppressor because the bloke in the booth next to you will thank you for it.

Handguns usually aren't very accurate, and perfecting your accuracy with them takes a LOT of time that most people don't have to put in. I guarantee you that unless your character is a notoriously skilled marksman and has trained extensively with handguns, they're not shooting that guy in the forehead on the first try.

THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS BULLETPROOF, ONLY BULLET-RESISTANT. Even the USA's ACH (Advanced Combat Helmet) is NOT DESIGNED to stop bullets. You know what kills people most in war, more than bullets? Shockwaves from blasts. That's what helmets are designed to protect against: shockwaves from explosions (which causes brain trauma) and shrapnel. The ACH can protect against handgun-calibre rounds, but don't rely on it to protect you against rifle-calibre rounds. Bullets will penetrate basically everything and half the time what characters use as shields (couches, tables, furniture, metal plates) are things bullets will penetrate with ease. VESTS WILL NOT PROTECT AGAINST HIGH-CALIBRE ROUNDS. Hell, vests often don't even protect against handgun-calibre rounds. The reasons one of the rules of firearm safety is identifying your target is because bullets will penetrate people and strike whatever is behind them. Sometimes that's another person. Also, bullet-resistant vests don't protect against knives.

People don't shrug off bullet wounds unless it's something like a graze, and even then you have burning to the skin. Rounds are fucking hot when they're fired---both as a result of air friction while travelling through the air, and as a result of being propelled from the barrel by hot gunpowder.

YOU CAN MOST DEFINITELY DIE FROM A BULLET TO THE SHOULDER. In your shoulder is an artery---worst case scenario, if it hits above your collar bone it ruptures the subclavian artery. Second worst case scenario, if it hits where your arm meets your shoulder it ruptures the axillary artery. You're going to lose an extensive amount of blood, probably go into shock, and the wound will be singed from the heat of the bullet. The impact alone can break bones without even touching them. When I hunt deer and I get a neck shot (not what I aim for, but mistakes happen) I don't usually hit the vertebrae. The vertebrae is severed simply by the shockwave of the impact.

Guns don't click when they're empty. That click you hear is the firing pin moving forward to strike the primer of the cartridge. In handguns, the slide will move backwards and lock when the magazine is empty. It will not click. The only firearms that "click" when empty are double-action revolvers, as pulling the trigger of a double-action will pull the hammer back. A complete pull makes the hammer strike the back of the firing pin, which then strikes nothing because there isn't a round in the chamber of the cylinder. Unless you're pulling the hammer of a handgun back yourself and pulling the trigger, you will not hear a click. It just won't fire. This is why you keep track of how much ammo you're using, folks.

Most modern firearms don't have a muzzle flash. It's something you see more in things like a muskets. Handguns, military-style rifles, and machine guns don't usually have muzzle flashes, and military and police specifically use low-flash gunpowder so that their position isn't given away by the muzzle flash. For firearms that do have muzzle flashes (for example, some bolt-action rifles) that's what a flash suppressor is for!

MODERN FIREARMS WILL NOT FIRE WHEN THEY'RE DROPPED. Firearm manufacturers go through EXTENSIVE testing to ensure that this doesn't happen because it's a safety risk. In Ye Olde Days (1800s) companies would go bankrupt for putting firearms on the market that are susceptible to accidental discharges. Nowadays, THEY GET SHUT DOWN. The only firearms that CAN fire when dropped are VERY OLD revolvers without a safety mechanism that modern revolvers have, and even then that's only if they fall at the perfect angle directly onto the hammer. Just to be safe, that's why you keep your revolvers half-cocked! (There's some exceptions to this rule with older firearms but it's a general rule of thumb.)

SNIPERS WORK IN TWO-MAN TEAMS. If you're shooting over a thousand yards, most snipers will have a spotter who does his calculating for him. ALL MILITARY SNIPERS WORK IN TWO-MAN TEAMS REGARDLESS OF RANGE. I can do my own spotting up to 1100yd, but anything beyond that requires the assistance of a spotter. There's a lot of maths that goes into sniping. Wind direction, wind speed (what we call windage), bullet drop, trajectory of the Earth, and the Coriolis effect when shooting due north or due south. If you're in the northern hemisphere, the bullet will shift right. If you're in the southern hemisphere, the bullet will shift left. I have no idea how it works at the equator.

When fired at night (and ESPECIALLY in snow) rifles don't make a "BANG" sound. They crack. Sound carries differently at night, which changes the distinctive "bang" of a rifle to a cracking sound, like what you'd hear when ice is breaking on a lake. The best example of this DONE RIGHT is when Sniper fires his rifle in the SFM Art of Justice. You can hear that sound at 3:05.

If I think of any more later I'll add some.

As always, if you have any questions feel free to send me an ask!

[une-femme-de-lettres]

Heartstrings

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Angst, typical COD violence (blood, murder, guns), lots of swearing, Ghost is angry

Summary: Imagine – Ghost being terrified of losing you

A/N: Again, this started as an Imagine, got way too long, ended up as a whole fic! It’s my first full one-shot for Ghost, I’m pretty proud of it, hope you like it too!

Link to Masterlist

“Alpha – this is Ghost, I want a sit-rep, over.” The voice of your Lieutenant comes over the radio, prompting you to divert your attention from the scene in front of you for a moment. Your teammates continue checking the identity of the men sprawled out on the bloody floor while you take a moment to process everything that just happened, unconsciously sounding your body for any sign of injury that might be blurred out by the adrenaline rush.

“Ghost – this is Alpha 2-1,” your teammate starts speaking through the radio, “building is secure, no visual on the target, we’re moving on building three, over.”

You turn to your other two teammates, nodding with a slight smile. They smile back. You wait for Ghost’s voice to sound through the radio again before diving back into full focus.

“Roger that, out.”

With that, your team is out of the building and slowly progressing towards a bigger structure. Same old routine; breach in, clean it, look for the target, exit. However, as you take cover in the surrounding area, a feeling of uneasiness takes over your whole body. It’s very open. Way too open…

“Take cover!” you yell back at your teammates who are still moving, crouched in the dusty remains of the partly fallen structure.

The first bullets tear the thick night sky with an ominous whistle. Your eyes barely have time to focus, one of your teammates falls to the ground. Your attention is immediately on the building ahead, gun up, ready to respond.

But all you can see is a wall of fire. Flashes and explosion from the heavy weapons pointed towards you and your team. Your heart beats inside your ears as you aim, gasping at the shapes taking form in the sight of your gun. Armor. How the fuck…

Your finger is pressed on the trigger, the contraction in the muscles of your arm and hand making it almost impossible to lighten your touch. You’re firing round after round, aiming at the heads. You take out a few of your enemies, not enough. Beside you, you can hear the second riffle supporting you stop completely. How…

“Ghost – Alpha 2-1, we’re taking effective fire-” Your teammate, the last one standing with you takes the radio, calling out to your Lieutenant. Ghost. You need Ghost. “- shit!” You’re both forced to stop firing. You quickly reload, resisting the urge to look at the sky as you feel the rippling of high calibre bullets hitting the concrete wall you’re hidden behind, making your ribs rattle and your stomach turn.

The scream of your teammate brings your attention back on him. He’s clutching his shoulder, blood gushing out. You turn back towards the building, the gravity of the situation now fully in your grasp. You’re alone.

“Alpha, how copy?” Ghost’s voice penetrates the deafening noise of gunshots and impacts “Alpha - how - copy?!” he repeats. You continue firing towards your enemy. You don’t snap out of it until you hear a frustrated groan come on the radio. Ghost is still on, you’re supposed to answer him, no one will if you don’t. You’re alone.

“This is Alpha 2-0, solid copy, we’ve got two KIA, Alpha 2-1 is down,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat. I need clear words, Shells. “We’re still taking effective fire, over,” you finish, squeezing yourself more tightly against the concrete, gravel and debris crushed under your boots.

“Alpha get away from the location now!” Ghost voice hits you like a ton of bricks. Leave, retreat, abandon. Your eyes move from the lifeless bodies of your fallen teammates, the trembling form of the one still alert beside you. He’s still clutching his shoulder and the dip of his neck, with both hands this time.

“Roger that, I’m trying to extract Alpha 2-1,” you announce on the radio, immediately looking at your surroundings for a way out. The enemy has stopped firing, your chance. Flash grenade, should give you enough time.

“Negative, you’re running low, we cannot cover you, get out of here,” Ghost yells through the radio, watching you from afar. Air support won’t be there on time. Even if it were, you’re just too close. He sees the death grip you have on the soldier beside you. Listen, for once in your life, listen to him… “I say again- we cannot cover you, get out, save yourself!”

You pick up the small grenade from your belt and unpin it, throwing it with a grunt over the cracked walls. It detonates, your cue to get the fuck out of here but not before you have you teammate well in hand. You manage to move only a couple of meters before the firing is back on, more erratic this time, even more dangerous.

“Alpha 2-0, leave him!” Ghost repeats over the radio. Get your shit together, Shells.

The enemy’s shots are traitorous, you cannot leave him here to die -alone. They are all on your watch. They were all on your watch. You let them die.

“Shells, leave him, that’s an order!”

Stubborn you are. You only listen partly to your Lieutenant’s command.

“Shells, get the fuck out o’ here!” You won’t listen, why won’t you listen?

Ghost’s voice breaks over the radio. He’s scared. Ghost is scared.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake get out now!”

His screams awake two things in you, those things melting together into a feeling of definite resolution. The first is bitter, anger tinted with confusion. Your name. His voice took the shape of your name. Your real name. Never use your names over the comms, call signs only. Ghost what did you do? Ghost, how could you forget?

The second is much sweater. A deep rooted urge. The urge to run back. Back to him. Back home where you belong, safely nestled in his arms. Where he can whisper sweet things into your ear and let his touch ignite every part of your body. You need Ghost.

You bolt forward, your eyes laying one last time on your abandoned teammate. His eyes wide open, face covered in blood, mouth gaping, an invitation for vermin to crawl in and come eat away at his corpse. He’s not dead yet.

This image is one of those sure to remain with you until you die. You want to die a horrible death someday, you want it to hurt, you want it to last. You want to really look death in the eyes and watch it take everything from you.

Someday, but not today.

“Give it some time to process, alright?” Price’s soothing voice barely makes it through your ears, your heart beating loudly in your temples.

“Thanks,” you whisper back, mindlessly touching the bandage around your shoulder. You slowly stand up from your spot and let Price know you can stand on your own with a slight gesture of your hand. You’re not hurt. Not enough to justify what just happened anyways.

You’re angry, so fucking angry. At this, at yourself… at Ghost…

The door at the entrance of your base slams open, heavy boots making the concrete floor tremble as he approaches the room you’re in. Ghost appears in the doorway, Soap catching up behind him, trying to call him, snap him out of his rampage. He does not listen, when does he listen?

Your heart sinks inside your chest when his eyes finds yours. He’s furious, violent. He starts towards you, strides long and purposeful. He looks like he’s about to crush you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” The boom of his voice reverberating within the concrete walls makes you flinch for a split second before fire seizes your whole body again. You step forward in defiance, only to be stopped by Price’s hand on your chest.

“Hey hey hey!” Price’s voice is inaudible to either one of you.

Soap tries to hold his Lieutenant back, looking at you with fearful eyes. He wants to tell you to run. You won’t run. What flows in your veins is not fear… it’s fury.

“Did you expect me to just leave him to die out there?!” you cry out to Ghost’s face, looking at him dead in the eyes, abstractly waving towards the location of your debacle.

“Yes! Save yourself before you can save others!” he retorts, pointing a categorical finger to the ground to emphasize his words. “You had your orders, you did not listen!” Orders… orders to kill, orders to let die…

“There was still a chance I could get him out,” you push forward. The image from only a few moments ago is painted on the back of your retinas. Eyes wide open.

“No! You were screwed. Your order was clear, you disobeyed me, Sergeant!” So now it’s ‘Sergeant’? Long gone is the time he used to murmur your name to your ear as you let him find his release buried deep inside you. Yet, it was only the night before, if you recall correctly…

The same name he dared to use on the battle field. Never use your names over the comms, call signs only.

“You used my name, for fuck’s sake!” This time, tears are the way out for your anger. They pool inside your eyes. Your hands squeezes into a fist, at the ready. How dare he? “You used my fucking name, so much for following the rules!” you scream, trying to find his eyes with your gaze. You find them. They’re a pitiful landscape of rage paved with fear.

“Thought it’d help you get your head out o’ your ass!” His eyes widen at the insult he throws in your direction.

“Fuck you!”

Your voice resonates within the cold hallways of the base. It’s followed by a deafening silence. Everything starts to shift and you feel suddenly heavier on your feet, grounded, Price’s eyes looking into yours.

“Alright enough, both of you!” Price shouts in both your directions, rapidly looking back and forth, insuring that neither of you is gonna throw themselves at the other’s throat. “Everyone is visibly pumped up on adrenaline, you’re not thinking straight,” he explains with a rationality that hits you hard. His voice calms you down. He always knows how to calm you down.

“You go clean yourselves up and make your report,” he orders, his tone lighter but still firm and commanding, unyielding. “I don’t want you speaking to each other for another hour, that’s non-negotiable,” he finishes. You know better than to talk back to Price. After what you just did, your ass is probably gonna have to stay at the base for the next mission or two anyways, no need to makes things worse for yourself. So you listen.

“Yes, Sir,” you say calmly, your eyes not leaving Ghost’s. Price turns to him, waiting for his response. Ghost doesn’t tear his gaze away from yours and flexes his neck rapidly, as if to relieve some tension.

“Yes, Sir!” He speaks loud and clear, leaving no doubt. This is over.

Price watches both of you exit the room and make your way to your respective destinations. Soap stands beside the Captain.

“I’ve never seen Lt. like this,” he says slowly, briefly looking over at Price.

“Nah, there’s something else going on between these two and I don’t like it one bit,” Price retorts under his breath. Rage like this can only mean two things; hatred or… quite the opposite…

“Like what?” Soap’s question tears through Price’s silent reflection. The older man lets out a chuckle that rumbles deep in his throat.

Price stays silent, his hand coming to pat the Sergeant on the shoulder in a friendly manner. Soap remains speechless, frowning, as he watches Price exit the room.

“Shells,” Ghost’s voice breaks the comfortable silence that has filled your room for close to an hour now. You stand up from your bed and slowly turn to the doorway. He stands behind the half-opened door, hand still on the handle. He swapped his full head gear for his simpler balaclava.

“Here’s my report, you can give it to Price,” you immediately retort, handing him the document, not really wanting him to linger here. There is no trace of anger left in your voice though, only disappointment. You still look at him in the eyes, like you’re used to, his gaze looks softer than earlier, making your heart beat faster.

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he replies, his head shaking slightly.

“What for, then?” He waited for these words. Now as you speak them, he steps further into the room, leaving the door only slightly ajar behind him. You drop the documents back onto your bed covers and wait for his response.

“I’m sorry for the outburst back there,” he says quietly. Your eyes travel up and down his body, there’s not a sign of threat of anger in him now. “Truth is, I was scared… terrified, really,” he continues, his words taking you off guard as he steps closer to you. You let him approach you, content with watching him, your eyes searching for sincerity in his.

Devotion is what you find. A smile pulls at the corner of your lips as he takes your hand in his.

“I just found you, I can’t lose you now,” he admits, laying your hand flat against your chest. You recoil ever so slightly, not used to him using such a gesture to express his feelings. Slowly processing his words, you let out a chuckle tainted with sarcasm.

“We don’t exactly have the best suited job for that, then, uh?”

His cheeks swell ever so slightly under his eyes with the shadow of a smile. No you don’t…

“But if you trust my orders and save yourself when you need to, we should be fine.” That was short lived. But he’s right, for fuck’s sake, you know he’s right.

You sigh and look to the side. He tries to find your gaze again with his eyes. You focus back on them when he squeezes your hand. They look so bright without the mask on. You stand straighter, not moving from your spot nearly fully pressed against him, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Okay, let’s get this over with…

“I apologize for discussing orders, Lieutenant.” You speak quietly but deliberately firmly. You are serious. No matter what happens, putting your life at risk like you did is not the smartest thing to do, not like this. Not when you are in a situation like this one. Sometimes the best thing to do is the hardest. Save yourself before you can save others. You will have to work some things out with yourself in the next few days -weeks, but this is surely the first step.

“Noted, Sergeant, try to be more diligent next time,” he responds methodically and you chuckle again at the absurdity of it all.

“I will.” It’s you speaking now, just you. The one he hurt earlier, the one he did not listen to, the one he deceived with his reckless actions. The one he loves so deeply… to a fault.

“I’m sorry –for everything… and for using your name, I let emotions take over.” You nod. Ghost, having emotions? That was not new. But him letting them make decisions for him? That was pretty unheard of.

“Thank you,” you say in a whisper, “never do it again.” He nods at the resolution and authority in your voice. But he can’t help smiling at it too.

With this, he lets your hand go. You noticed his heart beat slowing down gradually while you talked to him, soothing him despite yourself. Gently, you close the last remaining centimetres between your bodies and he wraps his arms around your waist mindlessly.

Your hand slides a little further up his chest, your fingers brushing against the edge of his balaclava, lifting the fabric gently, barely enough to expose his lips. You lean in and press your lips to his for a moment. His mouth opens tentatively, inviting your tongue in. A pleasant invitation you honour gladly.

Your kiss is slow and languid but passionate, leaving you still panting and trying to catch your breath when you finally part. You press your head against his chest and close your eyes, a strange kind of pain settling into your heart. Mixing feelings and work wasn’t the best decision you made in your life, especially this kind of feelings, in this line of work… And yet…

“We fucked ourselves doing this, Simon,” you say, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric covering his chest. He thinks for a minute, a bitter sweet taste coating his tongue. Falling in love with you? He couldn’t imagine himself doing things differently. Yet how he wished things were different, less complicated.

Gently, his lips press a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“That we did.”

I loves depicting that battle scene so much!! And the fight between Ghost and reader, my favourite part!!!

Thank so much for reading, likes and reblogs are as always highly appreciated!! Love y’all!!

[mossy-covered-bones]

Hey, yall! I participated in @ecto-implosion this year, and I was paired with @avensartt -- here is the fantastic art she made that inspired this fic!

Puppeteer, Chapter 1

ao3 link

warnings: just a panic attack for the first chapter

*

     Maddie flicked the Ectoradiation Radar on, watching the sensor boot up. The screen glowed a light green, harsh against the black grid. The brightest section of light centered on a point just left of center--that would be the ambient ectoplasm from the portal registering. A yellow spot flickered in the portal's place, as some of the fluctuations pinged significantly above average. 

     "Honey, do you want to head out for a patrol soon? We could use a test run on the Ectoradiation Radar," Maddie called to the other side of the lab, where Jack was maintenencing some of their weapons. "I want to make sure it's calibrated correctly, away from the portal interference."

     Jack started reassembling the weapon he was working on, slamming the pieces back into place.

     "Careful, Jack!"

     "I am!" he called back, snapping the barrel back into place. He grabbed one of the ectocharge magazines and slotted it into the weapon. "C'mon, let's hunt some spooks!"

     Maddie couldn't help but grin, clipping the Radar to her belt and starting to gather her usual weapons from the armory wall. "Don't forget to bring some extra magazines, dear."

*

     The baseline scale on the side of the Ectoradiation Radar inched down the further they got from the lab, the ambient ectoplasm dropping fairly quickly once they were away from the portal. The seatbelt dug into the shoulder of Maddie's jumpsuit as Jack took a turn too fast.

     "You added a range modifier to this, right, dear?"

     Jack shot her a grin that took his eyes off the road long enough for him to veer into the curb. "Of course, Mads! Slider on the right." He yanked the wheel to the left, overcorrecting a bit and making the GAV wobble.

     She felt along the side for the slider, watching the grid grow and shrink as she fiddled with it. "Okay, the readings are following with the scale change... take a right here, there's an area with a higher ectoradiation level I want to investigate."

     The GAV jolted, crossing one too many lanes of traffic to turn at the light. A car horn was just audible over the squealing of tires.

     "This looks like the way to the high school," Jack commented.

     Maddie glanced up from the Radar screen to scan the buildings around them. "I think that's where the higher readings are centered on--the scale looks right. I didn't think it was that large of a difference, though."

     "We should get some updated readings."

     "That could be useful." She glanced over her shoulder at the back of the GAV, past the back seat to where they kept the equipment. "Do we still have the other instruments? I want to get a cross reference to make sure the sensitivity's right on the Ectoradiation Radar"

     "Pretty sure!" Jack took another sharp corner, pealing into the virtually empty parking lot and slamming on the breaks. He barely paused to yank the gearshift to park before he threw himself out the driver's door. "C'mon, let's check it out!"

     Maddie scrambled to unbuckle her seatbelt and follow him, barely fighting back a grin from the excitement.

     She ducked under Jack's arm to get to the GAV's stash, fishing out the computer display for the Signature Sensor from one of the miscellaneous bins, plugging it into the readings equipment while Jack booted it up.

     Maddie handed the display over and twisted the settings dial on the Ectoradiation Radar, turning it from 'area' to 'local'. The grid disappeared in favor of a list of numbers, a flood of scales and measurements that brought a smile to Maddie's face. "Okay, what are you getting for ambient?"

     "Just under one rem per hour. Yours?"

     "Zero point nine four, and the estimated digit keeps varying between... two and five. Most of that is tied to a signature--a lot of that is signature. Are you picking anything up?"

     Jack frowned, sweeping the Sensor around a bit more. His eyes stayed trained on the display, searching for change. "Nope, no spooks."

     "Right, it must have been recent, then." Maddie hummed. "There have been a lot of sightings here, it could have raised the baseline. Should check the logs when we get back..."

     "Is it that much higher?" Jack leaned over her shoulder to glance at the Ectoradiation Radar's screen. "I don't think we measured type of ecto when we found Amity Park's standard, should we--"

    They both froze as the Signature Sensor's display computer beeped, eyes flicking to the screen.

    Jack let out a bark of laughter. "It's Phantom! C'mon Mads, let's go!"

*

     Jack was going at least double the local speed limit to keep their quarry in range, little flickers of a tail in the sky or readings on the Signature Sensor's display keeping them on path.

     "It's switching course--left, turn left!" Maddie shouted, leaning to try and follow Phantom's path. She braced herself before Jack threw the GAV to the side. It shuddered as the wheels slammed back into the asphalt, and they raced down the road.

     "Looks like it's leading up towards the woods, Mads!"

     They managed to keep on its tail up until town limits and the road veered away from the ghost's path. They'd have to go on foot to follow, with how dense the trees grew---no luck getting the GAV through there.

     They were out the second Jack parked, grabbing the most essential equipment before striking out.

     It was slow going, trying to trek through the underbrush after Phantom's ectosignature. It didn't take long for Phantom's ectosignature to travel out of range, leaving them to follow the general direction the ghost had been taking and hope they'd stumble on the path again.

     It was dim, the canopy blocking most of the evening light. Jack had the Signature Sensor at the ready, and Maddie kept the Ectoradiation Radar in hand just in case. They kept a brisk pace, doing their best to keep their direction consistent.

    They were maybe thirty minutes in before Maddie spotted a change on her screen, a little sliver of brighter green at the top of her screen. "Look, Jack, there's an area up ahead with more ectoradiation--we found something."

     "Let's go check it out," Jack cheered, diving back into the underbrush. Maddie followed his wake, letting him push aside bushes and trample the plants so she could keep an eye on the screen, watch that sliver of green get wider, grow brighter. The area baseline creeped up with every step, well past the readings they got around Casper High. If this was some sort of natural phenomenon, it was groundbreaking. Possibilities starting flipping through Maddie's mind. A large amount of microportals, maybe? Or an overlap of several haunts all coalescing into a cesspit of residual ectosignatures? Maybe even a place for assembling shades or blob ghosts, or some sort of old graveyard.

     "Mads, I'm getting a reading again. It's nearby."

     They shared a look. This could be their chance.

     Maddie clipped the Ectoradiation Radar to her tool belt and grabbed her recorder, the gentle click of it starting almost deafening in the still, darkening woods.

     "Recording 026B-03," Maddie whispered, reading off the label on the tape. "Research topic, where Phantom goes after a sighting. We have been following it through the forest for..." She glanced at her watch. "...seventy-four minutes. It seems that--"

     "Mads!" Jack hissed, barely quieting his voice. "The ectosignature's getting stronger--it's close."

     Right, game time.

     "Get ready." Maddie slipped the still-running recorder back into her belt, bringing a weapon to the ready. Jack followed suit, and they creeped forward,

     "There." Jack took a step forward, pushing some of the underbrush aside to get a better look. The glow was just barely visible under the sunlight filtering through the canopy, discoloring the foliage around it more than illuminating anything. It was fuzzy around the edges, insubstantial, like static forced into solidity. All black and white and bright vivid green that barely looked substantial. A messy, smoky impression of hair, a long, whispy tail, glowing white claws hooked under the arms of an unconsious teen.

     Phantom didn't seem to register their presence, too busy drifting through the underbrush, clutching at the boy he was carrying around. The grip looked secure, possessive, with how deep its claws were latched into his hoodie. The taste of static sat heavy on her tongue.

     Jack's face set with resolve, and he aimed the Fenton Bazooka right at it. "Put him down, ghost."

     Phantom's head snapped around to stare at them, neck twisting just too far to be natural. The only features on its face were the two green specks of light where eyes should have been. It pulled the teenager a little closer, claws catching on the seams on the shoulders of his hoodie, leaving little tears Maddie could just barely make out in the dying light.

     Maddie's grip tightened on her own weapon, and she moved a few steps to the left, just far enough that Phantom had to swivel his head to look between the two of them. "We're not going to let you hurt an innocent child."

     The ghost's face split open in mockery of a mouth, jagged with the impression of teeth, and let out a sound like nails against a chalkboard that made their audio filters hiss. It started to back up, grip not faltering.

     Maddie took a step forward, heard Jack follow suit. "We're not asking again, spook. Let him go." Her eyes flicked down to the unconscious teenager. The hoodie looked familiar.

     The barrel of her ectogun drifted as she tried to make out his face in the poor lighting. Was that... "Danny?"

     Phantom let out another squawk of grating static and Maddie couldn't help but flinch that time, weapon pulling back up to aim directly at its chest, but the space where the ghost--the ghost holding her son--had been was empty, the faint, sickly green light gone. Her eye's snapped to Jack, fumbling for the Sensor's display.

     She held her breath for a beat while he checked, but Jack just shook his head.

     Phantom was gone.

*

     Shit. Fuck.

He could hear himself trying to breath, like radio interference echoing through the empty observatory. He needed to switch back, before his--his parents managed to catch up, or track him down like they had in the woods. They had been right there, in the middle of--

     The world was getting fuzzy, turning to static around him. Danny could barely register his hoodie tearing even further as his claws dug into it, still unable to let go of his body. He couldn't still be ghost when--if his parents got here, holding his dead fucking body, but he could hardly think through the sheer panic of being so, so very close to his parents finding out.

     He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to force himself back to human, but he couldn't get the change to take through his core screaming at him to hide, that he was in danger.

     Shit, what was he supposed to do if they stayed there and kept looking? They couldfind the graves, find--

     Danny let out a whine, high and shrill, and pulled his body closer, burying his face in his hair. He still needed to bury himself, he couldn't just... not go back there, he...

     He needed to find Sam and Tucker, or Jazz, just somebody. He scrambled for his body, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his jeans. His claws scrabbled against the screen, password failing a few times before he managed to hit the right buttons and unlock. The message to the group chat was riddled with so many typos it was almost unreadable, but his phone started to ring just a few beats later. 

     Tucker's voice came through the speaker the second he hit answer. "Hey, Danny, what happened?"

     Danny let out another wheeze of static, curling closer to his body.

     "You're still in ghost form? Um. Nothing for no, sound for yes, alright?"

     He tried to parrot the words back, but trying to force out the sounds just jumbled them together into nonsense. Sound. Yes. Good enough.

     "Alright--are you safe?"

     It was harder to swallow back the noises than it was to speak.

     "Can you get home?"

     He bit down on his nails to keep the static in.

    "Could you get to my or Sam's house?"

     Yes, yes--Danny let the burst of noise force itself out from behind his teeth.

     "Go to whichever is closer, I'll let Sam know--want me to stay on the call?"

     The staticy whine echoed through the observatory, and Danny tugged his body further into his chest.

     "Okay, I can do that."

[bullet-prooflove]

TheWall! Series Part One: Poker Night - Bishop Losa x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond  @wakeama @fanfic-n-tabulous @dreamlandcreations @anime-weeb-4-life @keyweegirlie @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @the-wandering-lunatic @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @multifandomloversworld @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @purrrrfect @adaydreamaway08 @stressed-chas @spookyboogyuniverse @librarian1002 @msjava1972 @thanossexual @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @nessamc @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @justreblogginfics @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @trublu2u @irishavengersassemble @fanfic-n-tabulous

Companion Series to:

Complicated - Bishop already knows your secret.

The Wall - Bishop comes home to find you covered in blood.

It’s poker night at Vicki’s.

Bishop thinks it’s going to be quiet. A couple of drinks, a few rounds of cards while the rest of the guys blow off a little bit of steam. It’s more toned down than it used to be now that most of them have coupled up, but they’ve got a few guys up from Yuma who were looking for a specific form of entertainment and Vicki’s happy to oblige.

Bishop’s playing out the best hand of his life when they hear the gun shots. He knows the sound of a high calibre, long range weapon when he hears it. Despite your best efforts the Reed Coalition are still hunting down immigrants. He knows you’re not out there tonight. You’re meeting with the accountant to discuss the community centre’s finances. Still hearing those gun shots, it puts the shits up him. They were close, too close he thinks.

It's the flash of headlights that makes his heart sink, the sound of wheels spinning out on gravel. Creeper slides the curtain back and Bishop sees the colour drain out of his face before an expletive leaves his mouth. He’s on his feet as the door is thrown open.

It’s you that Riz is carrying, you who’s bleeding out in the other man’s arms. Drops of blood trail down your limp wrist, pattering onto the hard wood floor. Bishop knows that he’ll hear that sound in his fucking dreams.

Coco uses his arm to sweep the cards and poker chips from the table, the plastic disks scatter across the floor, rolling under chairs that are being shifted to make way for the causality. Riz is careful as he lays you down, Bishop takes in the sight of him as Gilly assists. Theres’s glass in his hair, miniscule shards glittering in the warm glow from the lights above. Streaks of crimson run down the left side of his face in rivets from slices across his forehead, cheek and neck. His shirt is soaked with blood, a mixture of both yours and his.

You’re awake, your hand is pressing Riz’s hoodie against the wound just under your clavicle. Coco covers your palm with his own, taking over the task. Bishop’s hand slips into yours, clasping it tightly, quiet reassurance that he’s there, that you aren’t alone. He feels that relief thundering through his system when you squeeze back. You hiss when Coco removes the hoodie, his features pinched as he tries to assess the wound.

“Stitches is on route, but she's an hour out.” Creeper informs them before Vicki shoves a First Aid kit into his hands and directs him to one of the bedrooms up the stairs. Her attention switches to Riz, guiding him onto one of the barstools as Hank flicks open the clasps of his own First Aid box.

“We need to take you upstairs.” Bishop tells you. “Get you some privacy so that Coco can get a better look at that wound. I’ll follow you up alright?”

You nod, a tear leaking down your cheek that he chases away the calloused pad of his thumb.

“I’m gonna be right here Mi Cielito.” He promises you. “Everything is gonna be ok.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[three--rings]

Starfield Tips/Things I Wish I Knew Earlier

Starfield is honestly amazing if you like this kind of game, but it does seem to be pretty invested in letting you figure out how it works on your own by experimentation. And it's very easy to overlook features of the game.

So...

The traits that give you parents, a fan, and a house are really neat. You get some cool stuff from them. I only did the parents but damn I'm glad I did. So consider these.

You can make your spacesuit and helmet automatically disappear if you're in breathable atmosphere/in a settlement. This way you don't have to worry about taking them off and on and potentially leaving your ship without them. And you don't look like a dork in town. The option is in the inventory page for each of them.

You can boost/sprint when floating. This is important in the Certain Plot Relevant Places.

There is a part of New Atlantis called The Well with a bunch of people and shops and you get to it from an unmarked elevator behind Jemison Merchantile in the Spaceport (or the unmarked elevator in the MAST transit station.) I played 30 hours before I found this out.

Read the skills closely, including the locked ones. Multiple times I put points in the wrong thing, thinking it would let me do things, when that was actually a different skill elsewhere.

Don't avoid the UC Vanguard questline. A lot of people I think are avoiding it because it's joining the military on a side that is a little sketchy/sus, but there's a lot of reasons to do this EARLY.

There's a museum you go through that gives you the entire lore background and recent history of the world

There's a flight simulator "test" you can take as much as you want to practice the space combat.

The storyline is REALLY REALLY good. (um, warning for horror elements) There are two different quest lines it opens and one also opens access to joining the Crimson Fleet faction.

7. When you upgrade your pilot skill it unlocks using thrusters in space flight. These let you maneuver without moving forward, so you are way more agile in combat. Use RB with a controller, IDK what the keyboard thingy is. But they're actually great. You hold down the button and then move sideways or up and down. Makes moving to new targets much better.

8. Weapons have different levels. Base which just has the name and then Calibrated, Refined, and Advanced. So pay attention and pick up the higher level ones. If you get a good advanced gun early you can use it and upgrade it for EVER. There's also rarity levels, which is the colored things. But that's about bonus effects. So you might get a really shitty gun with a Legendary bonus effect and it's still trash. If you get a high level weapon with a good bonus effect TREASURE IT.

9. Certain quests give you really good items, including SHIPS. IMO the best ship to get is the one from the Freestar Rangers.

10. Once you get a house you can build in it just like in an outpost. Also you can drop things from your inventory into an outpost or a house and then in build mode move that item around onto shelves, etc.

11. There is Universal time and Planet time. So if you wait or sleep, depending on where you are that may count as more time passing than what you chose. All shops refresh their money and inventory in 48 hours UT, but on Jemison, for example, that's only 24 hours of planet time.

12. Ship building can be intense and intimidating but it's really really worth it. You can always cancel out and undo what you did, so experiment. And when in doubt, add more engines, lol. (But really you want to add cargo space ASAP and then you need more engines, and then you end up wanting whole new ships.) Different ports have different makers of parts, and the best items are in the home port for each brand.

13. Unlocking the Ship Targeting skill is a game changer for space combat. It lets you lock on and then slows down time while you pummel the enemy's ship systems. If you take our their engines, and they are alone you can then dock with them and fight them and take their ship. Space piracy FTW.

14. If you get contraband avoid cities. Go to the Wolf System to The Den to sell it. This is very lucrative. At the slight price of your personal integrity.

15. As a general rule if something is sucking, you need to find the skill for it and invest points in it. This is true for piloting, scanning, boost packs, etc. They really made the skill trees count and be necessary in this game. Also surveying planets is really good XP actually. To help you get those points.

16. Speaking of surveying, if you are trying to complete a planet you need to visit all the biomes. If you click on the planet it will tell you the percent complete of that biome before landing. If you have one lone fauna left that fucker is probably in the ocean so look for COAST.

17. When placing outposts make sure there's not a lot of annoying mountains in it, and also you really want to prioritize sites with He-3 because you need it to really do anything. (Helium, iron, aluminum are the most important to build with.) And you have a limited number of outposts without taking a high level skill to get more.

That's all I can think of for now.

[artnerd1123]

They're always on time, and their work's always prime!

profile undercut~

Name: Robot Pronouns: they/she/he (used in rotation, starting with they/them each time)  Gender/sexuality: genderfluid + aromantic + asexual Species: human  Height: 5’9” Age: late 20s  Occupation pre-dungeons: student, general office/deskwork, IT worker Dungeon wish: to live a life without sleep :)  Fighting style: actually doesn’t physically do 90% of the fighting. Rather, they pilot a mech, which can take and throw a punch leagues better than they can on their own. As such they don’t really fight with actual hand to hand/long range strategies, but with strategies befitting of a card game. Their mech can be upgraded to handle a variety of weapons, and they have no real leaning towards particular specializations. In fact, they prefer to be as generalized as possible! This gives them a wide range of actions to take, and even when pieces of their mech get deactivated or damaged, they’re not missing a vital piece of their fighting ensemble. TLDR they cover all their bases and then go with whatever strategy best serves them in the moment (close combat, range, stack damage, just dodge, etc).  Strengths: extremely pragmatic, completely unbothered by fast paced/stressful situations, once they’ve set their sights on a particular task they’ll see it through to the best of their ability, able to step back and view most situations from a practical/logical viewpoint without much emotional involvement, well versed in politeness and niceties, extremely slow to anger, always gentle, kind -but NOT to the point where open abuse is met with compliance- and firm, knows when to put things down and walk away if it’s really not getting anywhere, insightful, perfect memory/recall, avid listener and reader, catalogs all information learned about people to best calibrate a workspace/living space suited to them, well aware of their limits and strives to accommodate them and become the best version of themself, able to navigate complex situations/puzzles/problems easily, operates fine on little sleep, very good at controlling emotions, always offers to help others Weaknesses: has a surprisingly cynical worldly outlook- bad things are bound to happen and everyone is bound to lose everything good eventually/people never stay forever/the world is a cruel place- despite their determination to be kind- which is driven by “not wanting to contribute” to the badness of life, the reason they work so well on little sleep is because they’re an insomniac and are used to it, likewise they’re used to controlling their emotions because they don’t actually know how to properly process them, has low physical endurance/strength which makes keeping up with high energy physical activities impossible, and they hardly ever ask for help from others with their own issues (unless they’re a licensed therapist. But cmon dude let your friends help you at least a little) Personality: Robot is a soft spoken, incredibly well mannered person of very mild disposition. They’re not very good at emoting through facial expressions or body language, but they carry their mood in sparks in their eyes to offset the uncanny effect. They’re always polite and kind to everyone, though by no means a pushover- more like a rock that lets water flow over it and remains unchanged no matter how wild the waves are. Robot is highly intelligent, well read, and has several college degrees under their belt, an avid lover of learning anything and everything. They can seem offputting with their textbook voice cadence and quiet observation of their surroundings, but they genuinely don’t mean any harm, nor do they try to be the smartest in the room. They’re genuinely delighted to learn they aren’t! They’re constantly striving to better themself, staying up to date on all the best ways to manage nutrition, time outside, screentime, hobby time, etc- you name it, they’ve got self help books on it. They’ll never try and push solutions on people who don’t ask, but they will absolutely try to assist in any way they’re able should someone (who isn’t in the business of harming people) request their assistance.

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at work:

There are three teenage girls and five teenage boys that are new hires. (Gotta love those summer high school jobs) I have trained the three girls how to properly shoot a rubber band with just one hand, AND how to fire multiple shots at once. We are now a well trained, calibrated weapon of work place chaos.

I consider it a failure if I do not “organize” a rubber band “drive by shooting” at LEAST 3 times a shift that any combination of us work together.

As for the boys…there’s a very deadpan talking shit culture sort of going on? Like I let them talk shit, and I try to fire back if I can, but also there are free sharpies and highlighters in the office and I WILL throw pens and markers at them after they pop off at the mouth. They throw them back at me! (Very proud of them for doing so, btw 🥰) I’m obviously much better at picking my spots to throw FROM. I wait until they’re out in the open, restocking stuff, and fire away at them from behind the counters and computers. They always try to grab the markers or pens and hit me back, but, obviously, I am far superior in my tactics of picking the more defensive positions.

I cannot WAIT for them to eventually organize and hit me with everything they’ve got in some sort of ambush.

[fioreofthemarch]

Finding Her - a field log

Link makes notes, takes photos and keeps time on his quest across Hyrule, in the hopes of finding Zelda and staying sane until he does. [ Next | AO3 ]

Booting... Booting... The current date is: 999999–!!! Error: Memory exceeded !!! Please select calendar convention for date calibration.

> New Hylian Calendar

NHC convention selected. Calibrating… The current date is: 104 AC (After Calamity). 5th month, 12th day. This time of year is commonly known in Hylian nomenclature as Spring's End. Save settings?

> Yes

Date confirmed.

* Welcome to the Purah Pad *

The Purah Pad is a state-of-the-art, fully portable adventure-class Sheikah Slate. The Purah Pad can be used to:

View far-away objects using the Scope

Take photographic images

View maps and current location (requires Sky View data)

Teleport instantaneously to travel gates registered to the Purah Pad

Record materials, creatures, monsters, and other objects found in Hyrule

Log activities and requests received from fellow travelers

Take additional field notes, as required

The Purah Pad is currently in development. We are not accepting feedback at this time.

Please direct any complaints to Symin at Hateno Village Research Laboratory.

Log date 09:55. 5th month 12th day 104AC Location: Great Sky Island. Weather: Mild. Clear skies.

Arm hurts, really hurts. In a bad way. Master Sword is damaged, or worse. What the hell happened down there?

It's bright here, gotta be high up in the sky. Were there always islands here?

A green construct-type person (like Guardians but with a face?) had this Purah Pad. Looks in OK condition. Zelda would know more. No sign of her. Apparently she's nearby, in a temple.

Not sure how many logs to make. Normally Zelda’s thing. I’m used to her being here. Used to the sound of her voice. Will just take notes until she’s back. Not sure how, but will find her.

Have to find her.

Log is accompanied by a picture of a Zonai Steward Construct. Its large, see-saw head is angled slightly to the side, as if perplexed.

Caption: He seems friendly.

Log date 12:30. 5th month, 13th day 104 AC Location: Ukouh Shrine Weather: Mild. Partly cloudy.

A lot has happened. Arm still hurts, whole body hurts. Rauru (source of arm) has been helpful. Not sure if he's trustworthy but no choice. Have to find Zelda, no matter what.

There are Shrines here on this sky island - deja vu. Seem older than the Sheikah Shrines though.

This arm and its powers are something else. Made a raft with fans. Put them on the wrong way, fell off the raft. Tried again a few times until it worked. Repeat.

Two more Shrines left, maybe next time Rauru will give me the power to summon a hot meal. Click of the fingers and snap: fried eggs. But probably not.

A photograph of some roasted mushrooms beside a fire, slightly charred, as a Zonai Steward Construct looks on.

Caption: These will do for now.

---

Log date: 16:30. 5th month, 14th day 104 AC Location: In-Isa shrine Weather: Mild. Partly cloudy.

Stopping to catch my breath. Going to sit by this Shrine a while.

Got this Fuse ability. Feels good to have a sword even if it's made from a tree branch and bits of dead robot.

Sword arm is not what it used to be. Reflexes slower too. Can feel the gloom under my skin. Fought a Captain Construct, got hit one too many times. Some bad bad bruises but the Light of Blessing healed them up quick. Mostly pride hurt now.

Back to the Temple of Time tomorrow. Zelda’s not far, can feel it.

A photograph of a fused rock-hammer weapon, resting against the weathered structure of a Shrine of Light.

Caption: Using a rock to break rocks!

---

Log date: 20:55 5th month, 14th day 104 AC Location: Temple of Time Weather: Cool. Clear skies.

It doesn't make sense. She was here, and then she wasn't. In the Temple of Time. Or her spirit? A memory? An echo? That's what Rauru called it. Said it was Zelda's sheer will, but how can he know? He won't even say who he is.

She looked so different. She looked.. divine. And then she gave me something. I can feel the name of it on the wind - Recall

She’s gone. But where? What happened to her?

Gonna leave this place tomorrow, just need to find that last Shrine. The fire's burning low but the nights here are short. There's something up above, the Purah Pad compendium calls it a Light Dragon. Currently watching it swim circles in the air til sleep comes, and then will see what tomorrow brings.

Zelda’s out there somewhere. Gotta find her, and put everything right. Don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t. Hope wherever she is, it’s warmer than here.

A photograph taken from below of a golden dragon, floating peacefully through the air.

Caption: How's the weather up there?

[cousticks]

If given the chance to live, what personality do you think Chuuya's clone would have had?

Gosh. Poor dear clone boy didn't get much of a chance to have one of those, did he. I probably go off topic a couple times, but I promise speculation on his personality is actually in here somewhere.

So. I don't trust a word out of N's mouth at any point in time. He's a horribly unethical scientist and even worse father figure but he does seem to be a relatively decent liar. This is the only decent thing about him.

That being said, if N were to be believed, then the boy in the coin-flipping video demonstrating a self-contained singularity is poor Cloney.

Quoting N's words:

"The owner of the self-contradicting skill. Other than his skill, he was an ordinary boy born in a hot spring district in the San'in region. This special vessel was calibrated so he wouldn't be crushed by the singularity's gravity. That's the only reason why he's still alive."

Looking back at the scene of the coin video, we don't really see much of the boy himself.

Someone was twirling the coin between their fingers. They were young fingers, but everything past their arm was off camera, so it was impossible to see who exactly the person was. They were, however, speaking in an almost singsong manner.

Whoever's in the video recites a couple verses of Upon The Tainted Sorrow. Not the activation verse we know, though.

Someone was holding a glittering coin in the center of the screen, but the camera was too far away to make out their face. The only thing discernible was how oddly spacious the concrete chamber was.

The video is obscured. We can't confirm or deny if it was Cloney in the video, we only know that he's young. But for the sake of speculation, let's say he is. To rule out the idea that it might be Chuuya in the video for the sake of narrowing down options: Chuuya had residual memory, or at least recognition, upon walking into Research Facility B, as its layout is similar to Research Facility A, aka what is now Suribachi City. He's got a pattern of that--seeing snippets of his true past having to do with the Arahabaki program, and it sparking his memory. He didn't do that when watching the coin video, so I'm just going to assume that whoever it was, it wasn't him. It would be off pattern for him.

I have one more quote to pull before rambling about what Cloney could have been like. Unfortunately it's the bit where he dies, but y'know, I only have so many scenes to pick from.

His face was no different than Chuuya's, but his eyes were a little kinder and much feebler. The boy grabbed Chuuya, his gaze pleading. He opened his mouth as if to say something. His lungs filled with puff of air. And that was it. His life had come to an end.

That's the part that really gnaws at me. His eyes were a little kinder. Assuming this is the same boy that has been a living experiment used to create an advanced version of himself (or having been created) and really only knowing dangerous experiments or a murky tube for going on 16 years now, seeing kindness in his eyes is almost baffling. You'd expect him to be kicking and screaming against anyone coming near him, probably. Or some kind of resignation, maybe. But he spent his last breath trying to communicate.

If he'd made it out of Facility B, I like to think he'd have been a hopeful sort. He probably wouldn't have been very well, though. The coin video scene notes the subject (Cloney) going into cardiac arrest. And surviving that comes with a lot of complications (unless the facility had some kind of healing ability on hand, but I'm calling that a 50/50 shot at best. The kindest thing I can imagine is trying to design transferable healing abilities in a similar way to how ability weapons were produced, but that may be too optimistic.) If I ignore the physical complications, there's extremely high rates of depression and anxiety after surviving cardiac arrest, which would probably be made worse by Cloney's living conditions for the last several years.

Verlaine is a bad example of how any reasonable person acts, but one thing pretty understandable is his distrust and paranoia of pretty much everything. And arguably, Verlaine has the most similar background to Cloney. So lets borrow some Verlaine traits, too, maybe.

And the fact that in the video, he spent most of the time flipping a coin. Young Cloney probably thought he was so cool like some movie character. I think his coin flipping is kind of similar to Chuuya's bit in Fifteen asking for hard rock music while he beats people up. They're both losers that wanna be action heroes at heart, to me.

It might manifest differently, but I like to think from his final scene that he got a lot of Chuuya's resilience (y'know, the kind that Verlaine really lacked.) I think coming out of the lab he'd be a very troubled boy, but really that would make him fit right in with the cast around him. But still trying to make the best of things. I think he'd like bad action movies. I think he'd be a little claustrophobic, a little afraid of the dark, but adverse to big empty rooms too. I think he'd like being around people. I don't think he'd want to join the Port Mafia, and he'd definitely steer clear of the Special Abilities Department. So of our major Yokohama-based organizations, the best place for him would be the Agency... but I don't think he'd want to be there either. I don't think he'd want anything to do with any ability based organizations at all, really. I kind of doubt he'd be up to learning any coin tricks after what happened the last time, but that idle hand habit never really goes away. Maybe he'd pick up cool methods of shuffling cards and end up working as a dealer at the Sky Casino or something weird like that. I don't know, really. We only have one scene we know is Cloney, and some speculation, but I think he'd have a few traits similar to Chuuya, but maybe without some of his aggression. I think he'd have a few traits similar to Verlaine, too. And every character that struggles with humanity struggles with it in a different way, and I'm sure he'd be no exception to that. Lots of issues and problems, but I think he'd be the kind to just want to move on. I think Kenji would fix him.

[beardedmrbean]

The Defence Headquarters, DHQ, said troops have depleted the power of the Islamic State for West Africa Province, ISWAP, terrorists in the Northeastern part of Nigeria, forcing the terror group on a recruitment drive for new fighters across the region.

The Director of Defence Media Operations, Maj-Gen Edward Buba, made this known in a statement on Thursday in Abuja.

He said the terrorists in the North West also suffered the same fate and were on membership recruitment on social media.

“Troops are aware of the situation and working with other security agencies and governments to thwart the plans.

“Troops are also deployed in strength to assist the police in ensuring a hitch-free off-cycle governorship election in Ondo State, slated for November.

“Indeed, troops’ presence is to ensure the security of citizens enabling them to cast their votes without any form of harassment or intimidation while keeping mischief-makers at bay.

“The NAF is already engaged in flying sensitive electoral material in support of the Independent National Electoral Commission, INEC,” he said.

While giving updates on successes across various theatres of operation in the past week, Buba said troops killed 88 terrorists, arrested 228 criminals, and rescued 181 kidnap victims.

According to him, troops recovered 84 high calibre weapons, comprising 34 AK47 rifles, 15 fabricated rifles, 11 Dane guns, five fabricated revolver pistols, eight locally made pistols, three pump action guns and one magnum pump action.

The Defense spokesman added that troops recovered 2,393 pieces of ammunition, comprising 1,807 rounds of 7.62mm special ammo, 314 rounds of 7.62mm NATO, 146 rounds of 7.62mm PKM ammo, 77 rounds of 9mm ammo, 49 live cartridges, and 25 magazines, among others.

Speaking on troops successes in the Niger Delta region, Gen. Buba said troops destroyed 59 illegal refining sites and arrested 40 oil thieves.

“Troops recovered 942,420 litres of stolen crude oil, 175,075 litres of illegally refined diesel and 4,980 litres of petrol.

“Troops also discovered and destroyed 13 crude oil cooking ovens, 20 dugout pits, 73 boats, 25 storage tanks and 59 illegal refining sites, three barges, seven speedboats, and 73 drums, among others,” he added.

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Red Ruin - INTERVAL 01: INITIATION (Part VI)

Any further awkwardness from Ruby Rose was halted by Blake's ears hearing the faint ruffle of feathers. The hidden Faunus popped behind herself, leaving a clone to be torn apart by talons where she'd been.

The Schnee didn't have Faunus hearing, but she'd learned to watch for when Blake reached for her weapons and had almost daintily hopped back, a fiery line coming out of her sword as she swung up. It just barely missed Blake -again!- and she heard it impact something behind her. More importantly, the fire hit the Grimm.

Ruby should've been far enough away from the two of them to be safe from the Nevermore. Should've, because she was suddenly in the air, a red and black blur trailing petals (!?) and spinning gleaming steel around herself. The blade of the scythe swung around, bit into the Grimm's flesh-

-and stopped dead with a thunk.

Blake couldn't see Ruby's face when that happened, but she imagined it couldn't have been a very happy one.

The Nevermore cawed in rage and pain, and flapped its great wings to gain altitude, Ruby's scythe (and Ruby) still attached to its leg. Blake was winding up to throw Gambol Shroud, planning to wrap the ribbon around the scythe wielder so she could pull her off, but then the scythe unstuck itself with a roar and a burst of flame, sending Ruby back, down and spinning. She landed hard, but looked mostly okay.

She leveled the scythe at the Nevermore and worked the bolt, did something with the controls over the magazine well, and then squeezed the trigger. The scythe boomed, the muzzle brake shooting long tongues of flame as what had to be a bullet of impressive calibre hit the Nevermore

… At least, Blake thought it was a bullet; she could've sworn she saw something sticking out of the Grimm as it flew up, Ruby firing at it until a flap of its wings sent a sharp feather her way, forcing the girl in red to dodge.

"I think we're just pissing it off!" Blake called out. Gambol Shroud could be thrown and the cleaver sheath could certainly do some damage, but in her experience the best way to protect against a Giant Nevermore (besides not attracting one in the first place) was to have heavy ordinance on-hand. And if you didn't have that…

"We need to get out of the open!"

Blake and the Schnee took two steps towards the treeline before they realised that Ruby wasn't moving from where she was. She stood there, cloak around her and her scythe (Crescent Rose, Blake remembered) still trained on the circling Nevermore.

"Ruby!"

Blake was going to pretend they hadn't shouted that out at the same time.

Ruby said nothing. Her back was towards them, so Blake couldn't tell what her face was like, but her body language was strangely still, even when she was turning to track the Grimm.

"Ruby!"

"Come on you dolt!" The Schnee cried out in frustration, glancing up at the Nevermore, her sword in hand, "We can't kill that thing!"

Ruby still said nothing. She didn't move, except to keep turning. That's roughly when her face came into view.

Her face was slack, blank of anything that could be called emotion. But her eyes burned in a way that Blake had only seen once before.

Before the faunus could think more on that, Yang arrived.

Ruby's sister crashed through the undergrowth into view, on the other side of the path from Blake and the Schnee. She look a look at her sister, the other two girls with her, the Nevermore circling above, and immediately homed in on Ruby. Without even breaking stride, she picked the smaller girl up with one arm to throw her over her shoulder.

"You're out of my sight for five seconds-!" Blake just about caught from Yang, the rest of it too quiet for even her to hear.

Ruby didn't so much as squeak. That was somehow worse.

Yang powered right past Blake and the Schnee, and they hurried after, disappearing into the treeline.

----------

The Nevermore cawed horribly, and rose high into the sky to wait.

----------​

They were still being shadowed by the Nevermore. Blake couldn't see it through the canopy, but she knew it was there. It was what that kind of Grimm did.

But, they were safe. Or close enough to count. They'd finally slowed to a stop, and Yang had put Ruby down. The smaller girl had, at some point that Blake couldn't recall, suddenly switched back to what she hoped was her normal self and now seemed to be trying to vanish into her cloak.

"Ruby," Yang told her, staring down at the smaller girl with her arms crossed under her chest, "what's the one thing I ask you not to do?"

"That I not run off by myself?" Ruby asked, tapping her fingers together. A nervous smile fluttered onto her face, and vanished when Yang's scowl deepened.

The Schnee stared at Yang for a second, took another look at Ruby, and then shot Blake a look that she guessed was meant to be something along the lines of "How!?".

Blake shrugged; she didn't exactly blame the Schnee for being confused. Ruby was small, slightly built (not quite as much as the Atlasesian, amusingly enough), pale in a way that didn't exactly indicate health, with shadows under her eyes and wearing black and red and a heavy cloak to hide in.

Yang wasn't. She was tall, with a brawler's build and a body that could turn heads inside an outfit that indicated that she knew it and wasn't the least bit shy about it, all crowned by a head of long, golden hair.

Blake wondered how that had happened. Half-siblings? Was one of them adopted?

"And what did you just do?"

"There was a Giant Nevermore!" Ruby suddenly rallied, silver eyes shining, "A-and it was doing that swooping thing they do when they pick someone up to murder them and-and-and-!" She waved her arms about.

"Okay!" Yang interjected, raising her arms in a calming gesture, "Okay. I get it, and it's not like I didn't know where you vanished to."

"And you promised-!"

"-not to smother you," Yang finished, sighing, "I know, it's just… Old habits, ya know?" Her eyes narrowed. "But you still should've bailed when…"

Yang stopped, and turned to look at the Schnee and Blake.

"Whoops! Sorry about that," she said, grinning amicably at the two girls she'd finally realised she'd been ignoring, "Older sibling duties, ya know?"

"… I do, actually," the white haired girl said with a sigh, "I… Have an older sister." There was something warm in her voice when she said this.

Yang nodded in understanding. Ruby shot a brief kindred look at the Schnee. Blake remembered that Weiss was supposed to have an older sister in the Atlasesian Armed Forces. Specialist Winter Schnee.

Blake didn't know much about Winter Schnee. The White Fang had marked her as extremely dangerous, but of low priority given how publicly she'd cut ties to her family.

And yet, Weiss was fond of her. Enough that the ice she'd had in her voice since Blake met her had melted at the memory.

"Anyways," Yang said, striding closer, "I'm Yang Xiao Long, and you already met my sister Ruby. We saw our feathery friend-" she pointed up. "booking it over here and wondered what it was in a hurry about."

Blake very deliberately didn't look at her… her Partner. She focused on the sisters. When Yang had approached, Ruby had slipped behind her, and had let her more visible sibling take the spotlight. And they'd done this with a smoothness that trained teams would envy.

"Yes," the Schnee said, dryly, "I wonder what."

Blake winced. She hadn't planned on making an enemy of the Schnee. Not at first. Then she'd needled the heiress, expecting nothing but the cold dismissal she'd used in every press conference the Schnee Dust Company had held after every mining accident and major scandal.

Except that hadn't been what the heiress had done.

There was a pause from Blake's… Partner. "Well, I'm Weiss. Weiss Schnee." A sigh. "Although you probably know that already."

Ruby nodded, and Blake was almost relieved to see a smile on her face. "Yeah," she said, "I've seen you on the news!"

The girl Blake now had as a partner, the same girl who she'd seen stand before reporters and cameras and speak reassurances, falsehoods, and dismissals with cold indifference, had instead struck back. Hard.

Much harder than Blake thought was warranted. So she'd tried to even the score. And then things went downhill.

Blake had thought that making the Schnee her partner would be a test of her resolve. That if she could work and live with the person whom Jacques Schnee had chosen to be the face of the SDC, then it meant-!

Ruby's smile dropped with a squeak and she seemed to retreat into her cloak. Blake briefly wondered why, then she remembered that the girl had a… Telepathic… Semblance.

Wait.

She flashed back to Ruby Rose's burst of speed when she'd thrown herself at the Nevermore.

She remembered last night, when the girl had demonstratively read her thoughts and then said words that had chilled Blake to the bone because of what they meant.

She tried to see how one Semblance could do both and failed because it couldn't.

"And you are?"

Blake almost missed the question.

"Blake Baetica," she answered, a little too quickly, "I'm…" She sighed. "I'm Weiss's partner."

"So she can call me by my name," the Schnee muttered under her breath. Blake very carefully pretended not to hear.

"Cool," Yang drawled. When it became clear that neither was going to say more about that, the blonde spoke up again, a hand on her hip. "Okay. Even I can tell that you two aren't exactly happy with each other. But… Well, we've got bigger problems."

"The Nevermore," Ruby said, softly, "It knows where we are. It's waiting for us."

Blake briefly wondered what Ruby would be getting from a Grimm. Briefly.

"We need to lose it," Blake spoke up, banishing that though from her head, "Otherwise that Grimm will wear us down."

"It's also not part of our mission," the Schnee added, "And something that will be slowing us down. I don't recall Headmaster Ozpin telling us there was a time limit for getting the relics, but I don't think he'll let us make him wait all day."

Ruby had the unhappy look of someone who really wanted to argue but couldn't muster an argument. It was a very pouty look.

Yang grinned. "All right. So now we need to figure out how to get that big bastard bird off our backs. Any ideas?"

They had a few, it turned out.