#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,…

[gattaxa]

"I've got your next target. I thought I'd hand-deliver it. Maybe you'd like a shot at the woman working with Wilson Fisk and who's responsible for keeping the Red Room alive." Or: A Black Widow assassin keeps trying to kill her. Kate's in love.

[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.”

[under0-0s]

200th Park Avenue, Midtown Manhattan, New York City. 02:43:27 A.M - Laboratory Room. ____________________ (listen to the music to improve the reading experience.)

_____________________

Tony Stark had always thrived in chaos, but this was different. This was a kind of entropy that clung to his bones, settled into his lungs, and refused to let go. Seventeen days and fifty-two hours—long enough for the world outside to twist into something unrecognizable. The weapons division was back, and so was the backlash. The media called him a war profiteer, a fallen hero, a traitor to his own ideals. The ring from a certain someone, that once held promises now lay forgotten in some drawer, and Serena’s voice still echoed in his mind, raw with anguish. Hunter was out there, bullet chambered, mark set.

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was here, now, in the icy stillness of his lab. He’d shut out the noise, ignored the ghosts that clawed at his conscience. Instead, he stared into the heart of something unknown.

A transparent, human-sized chamber stood at the center of the room, its neon-lined edges casting eerie reflections on the steel walls. Inside, a rippling void hovered—a bright streak, like lightning frozen in time, a tear between dimensions. The air buzzed with energy, a whisper of something just beyond reach. He had calibrated every parameter to the most precise degree, pushing past theoretical impossibilities.

This wasn’t about weapons, not really. It wasn’t about escape, either. It was about the spark. The one thing that had eluded him in everything else.

“Sir, I must remind you that exposure to the anomaly beyond its current containment field presents a high probability of destabilization.”

J.A.R.V.I.S.’s voice, crisp and composed, broke through the quiet hum of machinery. The AI had been monitoring the experiment with unwavering precision, cataloging every fluctuation, every surge of energy, every anomaly.

Tony exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Noted, J. But if I don’t push this further, I’ll never know what’s on the other side.”

“There is a fine line between discovery and destruction, sir.”

A wry smile ghosted across Tony’s lips. “Yeah, well. I’ve never been much for fine lines.”

J.A.R.V.I.S. hesitated, as if calculating the odds of Tony actually listening to reason.

“Would you like me to prepare emergency protocols in case of—”

“No.” Tony cut him off. “We’re not failing today.”

He adjusted the temperature again, a frigid cold settling into the room. His breath ghosted in front of him, cheeks pinkening from the artificial winter. He didn’t move. He barely blinked. He only stared, waiting, hoping, needing something to break through the weight of failure that had consumed him for far too long.

And then—it happened.

The spark.

Small, fleeting, yet infinite in its implications. A shimmer that pulsed through the tear in space, dancing along the edges of the anomaly, illuminating the abyss with an unearthly glow. Maybe it was just a reaction. Maybe it was nothing at all. But for the first time in days, something worked.

His fingers twitched, as if reaching for it, for the proof that something still remained. Something untouched by betrayal, by war, by loss. Maybe it was just physics. Maybe it was just a trick of the mind.

Or maybe—just maybe—it was the proof that between every rupture, every break, every tear, there was a space where something new could exist.

And so he stared, unblinking, as the dimensions split just long enough to let the spark linger.

Because maybe—just maybe—there was still something left to salvage.

The air around him hummed as the neon streak pulsed once more, sending out thin tendrils of energy that wove through the air like living things. He exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing as he adjusted the stabilization settings on the console beside him. If he could just hold the split open long enough, he might be able to measure the properties of whatever existed within. Maybe even step inside.

The thought was reckless, but he had always lived on the edge of recklessness and genius. There was no denying the pull he felt—no denying the possibility that on the other side of that tear, something awaited. Something better. Something more.

But there were risks.

The algorithms were still incomplete, the equations still not fully understood. The chamber’s integrity was holding, but for how long? And if he lost control, what would happen to the lab? To the world?

“J.A.R.V.I.S., run a full diagnostic on the containment field.”

“Processing,”

The AI responded smoothly.

“Energy stabilization at 84%. Containment holding, but fluctuations increasing by 0.7% per second.”

Tony frowned. That wasn’t great. He had minutes at best.

He should stop. He should shut it down and walk away.

But he couldn’t.

Because for all the ways he had failed, for all the people he had let down, for all the things that had slipped through his fingers—this, this, was still in his grasp.

He clenched his fists, jaw tightening as the cold seeped deeper into his skin. The glowing fissure flickered, almost as if it, too, were waiting.

He stepped closer, the hum growing louder. The streak of light stretched and curled, forming delicate arcs that shimmered against the steel walls. His pulse quickened. He reached out, fingers hovering just inches from the anomaly, the energy tingling at his skin.

“Sir, I must reiterate—”

“J, shut up.”

The lab was silent, save for the faint vibrations of the machinery. No voices. No outside distractions. Just him, standing at the precipice of discovery—or destruction.

He took another step forward, heart pounding in his chest. The anomaly pulsed, its radiance fluctuating like the heartbeat of something alive. If he crossed the threshold, if he reached into the unknown, would he find answers? Or only more questions?

The machine hummed one last time before he exhaled and stepped back. He reached for the console, fingers hesitating over the shutdown sequence.

Then, with a final glance at the spark still flickering within the anomaly, he pressed the button.

The energy curled inward, collapsing in on itself until all that remained was the cold and the silence.

J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke first.

“Experiment concluded. Data has been logged.”

Tony turned away from the empty space, running a hand down his face.

Seventeen days and fifty-two hours. That’s how long he had been waiting for something to go right.

The weight in his chest shifted, just a little.

Maybe there was still time to make something of it.

_______________

( Tags so that this just doesn't die: @oh-to-be-a-murderer @the1-and-only-peggycarter @crazyinlovewithmarvel @thatone-midgardian @over-bi-the-wayside @its-nate-the-sharpshot @multiverse-peterbparker @clintbarton-thearrowguy @spidey-sensed-ur-follow @lunamarvels @insomniac-lifestyle @playgirlgenius @the-iron-rose @little-lost-prince )

[shadesofmauve]

Alliance Normandy SR2 redesign: Deck 3

The crew deck sits in the middle of the ship, where the hull is widest. This is where design for a larger crew really comes into play.

Sleeping and other bodily functions

The main bathrooms are roughly the same shape and location as in-game, but people walking by no longer have a great view of the showers every time the doors open.

Enlisted racks

24 enlisted racks line the corridor to the main battery, housing the bulk of the rank-and-file. Bunks are stacked two high, with uniform lockers to one side and coffin-lockers under the mattress.Footholds in between sets of bunks let you can reach the top without stepping on the one below.

Junior officers' quarters

I assume a spaceship needs more technical expertise and less grunt work, so the crew is weighted towards officers and highly-trained technical specialists. These specialists fill non-command roles and bunk with the junior officers. Joker (flight lieutenant) and Traynor (comms specialist) berth here. So does Kaidan, because at the point he came aboard the guest stateroom was occupied by Khalisah Al-Jilani, and bunking with marines would muddy command waters because he seriously outranks Vega.

Bunks are two-high with coffin lockers just like the enlisted racks, but officers rate four inches more elbow room and two inches more to stretch out their toesies. They also get a bit more privacy, a little more storage, and access to the lounge overlooking the eezo core*.

*I gave them a lounge because in ME3 you occasionally find officers chatting at a table in the middle of the bunk room, and if anyone did that while I was trying to sleep three feet away I'd commit murder.

Senior officers' country

Miranda's old quarters, which Liara claims in ME3, are large enough to house the entire senior staff in staterooms, with one extra for guests and a shared head. Each room has one permanent bunk (two inches wider and four longer than junior officers; swank) and one fold-out upper-bunk in case of extra passengers.

In Sunset and Evening Star the first thing Shepard does on the Citadel is sign on a first officer**, old navy hand Lieutenant Commander Nguyen. The first thing Nguyen does is fill the missing weapons and ops roles (she heads the navigation department herself, since it's a small ship).

With Shepard in the admiral's quarters on deck 1, First Officer Nguyen gets what would have been the captain's cabin on the crew deck (except while Primarch Victus and his aide were aboard; when she gave up her quarters to the turians). Mukerjee, the head of ops, gets the slightly-larger-than-standard cabin intended for the XO.

Garrus has the 'extra' stateroom, as their liaison with the turians. He keeps the desk folded for space and sleeps crouched in one corner; the bunk is useless to him.

**Shepard delegated something! It's a Mass Effect miracle!

Vital ship functions

Main battery

The main battery looks exactly the same, except Garrus isn't sleeping in the corner or constantly fiddling with the guns. In fact, he's never fiddling with the guns. He and Silva were spending hours re-calibrating the thanix cannon to their own preferences whenever the other person's back was turned, and Nguyen stepped in and banned Garrus from the armory before it moved from passive aggression to murderous-interspecies-diplomatic-catastrophe.

AI core

Access to the AI core is from the battery corridor, not through the medical bay.

Medical bay

The medbay is divided into a front office, the main med bay, and an area for major surgery or isolation. There's also a small private cabin for the two members of the medic corps who assist Chakwas.

Life support

The life support corridor has another four enlisted racks, bringing the total enlisted berths on the crew deck to thirty. Life support itself is basically unchanged, except for some added Important Keep People Alive machines. Like engineering, life support systems are also spread throughout the ship.

Food & leisure

Mess & galley

The mess seats 32. It's also all-watch meetings are held, and occasionally movie screenings. Crew can grab shelf-stable snacks, cereal, or recent leftovers from self-serve areas outside the galley, or collect the meal currently on offer at the counter.

The galley feeds three shifts three times a day each, and one watch's breakfast comes immediately before the previous watch's dinner. About a week out, stores of fresh produce are gone, so a lot of food is frozen, freeze dried, or reconstituted. There's always something to eat; one of the two big pots is almost always full of soup, if not both Bread is made from scratch (flour keeps indefinitely, bread doesn't), and there's a flat-top as well as a six-burner range. The food storage in the galley and nearby walk-in are only what the cooks expect to need for the next two days or so; food actually makes up most of the Normandy's cargo, stored on deck 4.

Observation lounges

The observation lounges, important for crew morale and sanity on longer missions, are differentiated by volume. Starboard is generally used for quieter conversation, reading, solo gaming, or study. The Port lounge is for parties and games. (There is no free wet bar, this is a military ship).

Normandy redesign posts

Intro

Loft

Command

Crew

Engineering

Hangar

[idk6123]

‘Un-official couple’ (Garrus Vakarian X Male Reader)

Sheperd’s team is a bunch of odd folks. Whether humans or aliens, soldiers or criminals, sane or insane people. All kinds of people from different lives come in to help Shepard and the rest of the galaxy to defeat the Reapers. Two of them are Garrus and Y/N, who got along quickly.

From the start, they got along well, whether on or off the battlefield. The crew find it a bit endearing, but as time passes, the crew thought differently about it. They considered Garrus and Y/N an ‘un-official couple’. Hell, they aren’t even sure they are aware of how close they are.

While sitting in their quarters, both soldiers are having their gun maintenance. Whether they clean the weapons, upgrade it or make sure the ammo is high enough.

“They should make snipers tinier.” Y/N states as he and Garrus move on to check out the snipers. “Easier to carry them around.”

“That might be the dumbest thing I ever heard. You need great strength for the bullet to crack through a skull of the poor bastard. That means recoil and in other words, need a bigger gun to deal with it.”

“It was just a suggestions. Pretty sure it can work.”

“You say that, but I know you like your weapons big.” Garrus says a bit teasingly.

Y/N knows what’s he getting at. “Do I?”

“Yes. Long, with a good area to grip it tight.” Garrus says with a deepening voice, enjoying every second of messing with his friend. “Can shoot miles away.”

Y/N hums. “I bet I’m not the only one who likes that. Since you defended big snipers, I bet you love big weapons.”

“Oh, I do-” Garrus then cracks up and begins to laugh, causing his friend to laugh along. “Alright, I’m done with the dick jokes.”

“Oh, you were joking?”

“Oh, shut it.”

While the two friends continue messing around as they do their duties, someone overhears them. It’s none other than their commander, Shepard. Wondering what’s going on with them, he decided to ask about it later.

-

As Garrus is doing a bit more calibration, Shepard walks in on him.

“Hey Garrus.”

“Hey. Is there something?”

“Just chatting.” Shepard stands beside his friend and leans against the wall. “Always nice to do something mindless while we may die tomorrow.”

“You can say that again.” Garrus responds a bit roughly. “But I try to look at it positively. We probably die next week.”

Shepard chuckles. “So… you and Y/N…”

The Turian looks beside him. “What about it?”

“I’m just glad despite everything that is happening, you two still act the same.” Shepard admits. “Kinda envious to be honest.”

“You got friends too, even if it doesn’t look like it.” Garrus jokes.

“Hey, I’m serious.” Shepard sounds amused. “You’re lucky you got him.”

“You say that like we’re a couple.”

“You kinda sound like you already are.”

Garrus looks a bit confused. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying…” Shepard is carefully looking at the right words as Garrus stares. “Some of the team consider you two as an ‘un-official couple’.”

“What!? Why?” Garrus sounds genuinely confused. “Can’t two people just be friends without it being romantic?”

“It can. Just not how you two treat each other.”

Garrus scoffs. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying what the team thinks.” Shepard defends himself. “But let’s be honest. You two constantly flirt with each other.”

“It’s call bantering. Look it up and you know what I means.”

“Does it?” Shepard replies. “I remember something about ‘having a manly time in the shower’.”

Garrus looks a bit flustered. “That was just a joke.”

“I know, I know!” Shepard assures. “I’m just saying, some people may think you two are an item.”

“Well, they’re clearly wrong.”

“Right then.” Shepard is then ready to leave. “Glad we got to talk. Let me get you back with your celebrations.”

Once left alone, Garrus begins thinking about what Shepard has said. He never thought he flirted with Y/N, at least genuinely. Still, he understands that can be interpreted as such. As he thinks further about it, he wonders if Y/N thinks so too.

-

The following day, the crew got to the Citadel. During which, everyone does their own thing. For Garrus, he goes to purgatory. He then sees Y/N hanging out with Liara and Tali. Without hesitation, he joins his friends in the lounge.

“So that’s why you can’t slam Omni-gel to bypass locks or other security systems?” Y/N questions.

“Yes.” Tali replies.

“But… why?”

“I’m not sure.” Tali shrugs. “I personally find it a lot less efficient.”

“You weren’t the only one.” Liara speaks up. “That security upgrade made a lot of people unhappy.”

That’s when Garrus joins in. “Hey.” He sits down beside his best friend. “Again with the rents about the Omni-gel controversy?”

“Yes.” Y/N sounds like it’s obvious. “I just don’t get it. Why would you make something worse, even if it was a massive security risk?”

“Look, you’re asking the wrong people.” Liara replies.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the Shadow Broker or something?” Tali points out.

“Just because I know what goes around 99% of the universe, which doesn’t mean I know everything.”

As Liara and Tali further chat, Garrus stares at the human man. Looking at him, he thinks about what Shepard has said. Maybe he should settle down while he still got the chance? And it’s not like he settles with someone he doesn’t like. After all, any day now, either he or Y/N can die, so they might as well make the most of it.

“Y/N.” The human looks back at his friend. “So, uh… you come to places like this often? Because, well, I don’t, but maybe I would if… um, if you were here.”

Y/N blinks a few times. “What?”

Garrus clears his throat. “I-I meant, you come here often?”

“Not really. Only to hang out with friends, but that’s it.” Y/N answers. “Just not a fan of music blasting my ears of.”

“I agree. I imagine people only come here to wish to become deaf.” Y/N raises his eyebrow, with Garrus becoming a bit flustered. “Not that I think you want to become deaf. You probably love your ears. I mean, I love mine. Uhh… the ears I got, not the ears humans got… yeah, sounds right…”

“O-kay?”

-

Y/N notices ever since that day, Garrus has been acting odd. Whenever he tries to be fun or nice, the Turian stutters and fumbles through his words. While Y/N knows his friend doesn’t mean any harm, he can imagine a stranger to think he’s a weirdo.

With another day living means another day training. Thus, getting in the hanger, Y/N is wearing his workout clothes, revealing his big muscles. Usually doing with Garrus, he sees his sparring partner.

“Nice outfit. It, uh, really accentuates… um, you know, everything.” As Garrus checks out his best friend, Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Not that I’m looking at everything, but—yeah. You get it.”

“I don’t?”

“Uhh…” Garrus awkwardly looks away. “Let’s just spar.”

On the mats, the two begin exchanging blows. While Y/N is training hard as usual, Garrus is holding himself back. The human isn’t sure why, but he doesn’t question it.

“Nice one. I mean, you’ve got… great form. Not that I was looking at it like that, but, uh… good muscles. Or… coordination. You know.”

“Thanks?” Y/N sounds a bit confused. Feeling a bit uncomfortable, he begins to mess around a bit. “There is more where these muscles come from.”

“I bet. I mean in the sense of strength, not the sexual attraction thing. …Not that I’m saying you’re not attractive. Uhh… I mean…”

Y/N then stops and just stares at his best friend. “Alright, you’ve been acting weird for days. What’s wrong?”

“There is nothing wrong.” Garrus replies.

“Is isn’t? Because whenever we talk, you don’t know how to have a decent conversation.” Y/N clarifies. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No! You didn’t do anything.”

“Then did you do something?”

“…Not necessarily.”

Y/N groans. “Can you stop being so cryptic and just say what’s wrong?”

After some hesitation, Garrus speaks up. “Fine. Shepard told me other people view us as an… well… a couple.”

“Oh. Okay.” Y/N casually says.

Garrus looks dazed. “Okay? What do you mean ‘okay’?”

“It means I don’t really care about what other people think about us.” Y/N stated. “Does it bother you?”

“No. Not really.” Garrus replies.

“Good. Then why are you acting weird?”

“Uhh…” Garrus looks hesitant again. “I’ve been thinking about it. We… we would be a good couple.”

Y/N smirks. “You want to become a couple?”

“Yes, no, uhh…” Garrus feels a bit embarrassed. “What do you want?”

“I think we would be a great couple if you want to. Is that what you want?”

“…Is that what you want?”

“Stop avoiding my question.”

Garrus sighs, having no choice but to answer. Still, he doesn’t have the guts to fully admit it. “I would like that…”

Y/N smirks. Without shame, he walks over to his partner in love to kiss his partner. Garrus in return, remains frozen. It doesn’t take long before the human pulls back.

“And?”

“Your lips feel nice. Kinda wishes I had lips.” As Garrus looks at his partner, he looks a bit awkward. “So… your waist looks really supportive.”

Instead of finding it weird, Y/N laughs it off. “Yeah, we need to work on your flirting skills.”

[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.

[tiesthatbind-tf]

When you get a chance, could you please explain with a bit more detail about the armor the autobots and decepticons wear? Do they often wear the suits under their clothes?

Aye, I'll do my best! I've given a short explanation here a while back, along with some visual aid. Basically, the way the armor is constructed is inspired off The Centurions, especially Ace McCloud's setup for the flyers. There is a bodysuit underneath the armor which is flexible and offers some protection against blades and small-calibre weaponry. Teleportation is a tech still in development in TTB, where live trials have been unsuccessful, but it has been in used for about a decade or two to transport items (or bodies from offworld colonies back to earth). The larger the item is, the longer it takes to teleport. Also, you need a direct, solid Point A to Point B. That's where the bodysuit comes into play, as it coded to sync with the armor and is the solid Point B for armor teleportation from base, as well as something equivalent to a 'mesh mapping' on a 3D model that makes it easy to the algorithm to identify where the armor phased to the recipient is supposed to go (as opposed to shin armor being phased to the forearm, as an example). The Decepticon/Autobot emblem works as a beacon to direct where geographically the armor should be teleported, and the suit grounds it. The armor is phased/teleported in pieces to the recipient as this takes a shorter time than doing so with a large, fully-attached solid set. Of course, it still takes time for people who wear highly-specialised armor which may have extensive weaponry attached to it--in particular are the flyers who require mini flight engines and/or turbines, as well as those like Preston/Prowl or Suraya/Soundwave who have shoulder-mounted artillery--versus people who only have standard protective armor, like Dai/Drift and Carina/Chromia.

As to how often characters don this bodysuit under their civilian clothing, I'd say given the situation they're in, probably about 60% of the time and depending on whether it's an 'active combat' sort of week. There'll be some weeks where the skirmishes can be daily, and some weeks where there's lulls/uneasy truces in between the fighting. The armor did not start out made for military purposes---it was originally a project of Wheedon/Wheeljack's which Senator Sharifuddin/ Shockwave funded. Wheeljack, as someone born with Tetra-amelia syndrome, was in the business of creating affordable cybernetic prosthetics/mobility aids for large swathes of the public/lower class manuals who could not afford them. When the Clampdown happened and members of Senator Shockwave's rebellion were being targeted, Shockwave asked Wheeljack for help and Wheeljack came up with the idea of protective armor from his project which he and Shockwave jointly worked on. The very first suit of armor created was actually Stefan/Starscream's suit, which he wears until today mostly unchanged from the time of its creation. It was the first because back then, they decided that having eyes in the sky was a priority and once test flights on Starscream's suit proved successful, Megs' and OP's followed. In the current day of the war, the Autobots' armor is crafted by a team comprising HotRod and Swerve who craft the raw material, Bumblebee and Mirage who deal with the colors/designs, Wheeljack who codes it to work as a unit and Nautica who helps out with trial testing. For the high-ranking Decepticons, Megatron crafts most of their armor (he often uses it as a bonding session to get to know the recipient better) and Shockwave codes it while members of the DJD help out with trial testing. Wheeljack has very complicated feelings about the way this tech he pioneered with Shockwave is being used, and he generally cannot be talked into coding Autobot armor with live artillery (he doesn't care if they want to wield weapons, but he won't be making them), unlike the Decepticons who do (he will allow, such as in Prowl's case, non-lethal rounds or elements to stun/incapacitate enemies).

I hope the information proves insightful!

[sweetvoidstuff]

Unwanted Cargo - Steel and Starlight

(Jungkook x Reader | Sci-Fi | Action | Enemies to Lovers | Slow Burn | Survival)

A skilled mechanic finds themselves entangled with Jungkook, a dangerously efficient fighter who was meant to be nothing more than cargo. As they navigate threats, their uneasy alliance is tested in ways neither expected. But as they face impossible choices, the question remains—who is truly in control here?

Masterlist

Steel and Starlight

Wordcount: ~550

(Reader’s POV)

The Stellar Hound was no luxury cruiser. It was a cargo hauler, a patched-together mess of rust and reinforced steel, barely held together by your two hands and an ever-dwindling supply of spare parts and had carried all kinds of cargo. Contraband, high-grade weapons, stolen goods—you name it. But this? This was a shit deal.

“Tell me you’re kidding,” you said, arms crossed, glaring at Namjoon.

The captain sighed. “I’m not.”

“You want to put a wanted convict on our ship?” You gestured toward the transport crate where the so-called prisoner was being offloaded. The man inside it didn’t look remotely concerned about his situation. Tall, built like a predator, tattoos all over his left arm, his hair black as the dark void, violet eyes that caught the dim light like something engineered for the hunt. He was restrained in heavy cuffs, but he looked far too relaxed for a man in chains.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

You turned to Taehyung, the pilot, hoping for backup. He only shrugged. “The money’s good.”

“So is not dying,” you snapped.

Still, you knew you couldn’t change Namjoon’s mind. He was too pragmatic, too desperate. The ship needed repairs, fuel, supplies. The ship was one major system failure away from drifting dead in space. A high-risk job like this meant breathing room for a few months.

So, with gritted teeth, you watched as he was hauled aboard. Still, this was a terrible idea.

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook

Even bound in reinforced cuffs, he walked like he owned the place. Tall, built like something engineered for war, violet eyes cutting through the dim cargo bay light. There was something predatory about him—like a wolf in chains, already calculating when he’d be free.

He flicked his gaze to you and Namjoon, then slowly scanned the ship before exhaling through his nose. Taehyung already leaving, making sure everything would be ready to takeoff.

“Underwhelming.”

Your grip on the wrench in your hand tightened. Namjoons shoulders straitened, but he spoke with a calm voice. “I don’t care what you think of my ship, convict.”

His gaze landed back on you. The violet caught the glow of the control panels, reflecting like a pair of moons.

And then he smirked.

“I wasn’t talking about the ship.”

You wanted to hit him.

Instead, you spun on your heel. Not my problem. You had better things to do—like keeping this rust bucket from falling apart.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

For the next few hours, you stayed in the engine bay, making sure everything was secure before takeoff. Checking seals, calibrating systems, triple-checking the lock on the makeshift brig. It was the kind of precision work you prided yourself on—the kind of work that kept people alive.

You caught Jungkook watching once.

Just a brief flicker of movement from the shadows, his unreadable expression barely visible beyond the ‘brig’s’ reinforced door.

You ignored him.

You ignored the uneasy feeling in your gut, the way the hairs on the back of your neck stood on edge when his gaze lingered too long.

This was just another job.

You kept telling yourself that.

And yet, something told you Jungkook was not just another prisoner.

And that thought?

It was dangerous.

[kendracii]

first ever post!! (be nice, or don’t)

an: i plan to continue this i’m just a nerd who likes to write and i won’t post anything too smutty, sorry?

Your messy apartment is messier than normal. The ten different outfits you had tried on this morning scattered on the floor, you had been trying to find a somewhat work appropriate outfit in your closet of.. well tighter tops and lower rise jeans, you finally settle on a pair of burgundy tights, a mini grey pleated skirt, with a chest heavy white collared, shoulder padded button up with a brown bomber jacket paired knee high boot a matching colour. In your mind you looked a bit like a kindergarten teacher but it was better than jeans and a blouse covered by a lab coat like what you wore at your old jobs as a lab scientist. To put it simply you were smart you had been since a young age at least that’s what every adult at the time had told you. You grew up in Las Vegas! Sunny days, party filled nights. Yet here you were in D.C ready to walk into the Quantico offices to work for the Behaviour Analysis Unit. You had done some sub division work for Quantico before including some stuff to do with chemistry and when forensic was taking to long you’d help lift prints or deliver anti vax but now you were a real deal profiler with a real badge and a gun a real government calibre weapon to use on the field. You’d already done the training and met Emily Prentiss and had a quick run in with the great author David Rossi, you were especially excited to work with one of the godfathers of the BAU himself. Other than that you were the new girl who knew no one else on the team or supposedly knew nobody. The drive there was torturous, sadist if you will you felt the nerves build up more and more with every breathing exercise you tried, but you were here.. you finally had arrived! “First impression mean everything so let make this one count.” you whisper to yourself holding down the pending panic attack threatening to let its presents be known. Six floor up in a questionable elevator and one stride forward, yes she was here already —emily— you were scared you’d have to go look for her or god forbid ask somebody from around the office for help..

    Emily gives you a hand shake, motioning for her team to come say hi to the new agent in front of her

“Everyone this is supervisory agent and new member of the BAU Y/N Y/LN She will but joining us as a part time replacement. Agent this is Rossi, Lewis, Alvarez, Jareau, Simon’s, Garcia and wheres…”

“Spencer..” you say as a tall long haired lanky nerd stares back at you.

        “Y/N?” that’s all spencer was able to mutter out before turning around and storming off, he didn’t sound exactly mad but his expression wasn’t a pleasant one. 

“Wait!” you shout out before Spencer b-lined it down a hall you were extremely unfamiliar with. 

     Everyone is well dumbfounded and utterly confused what just happened? 

Jennifer was the first brave soul to open her mouth, more concerned for Spencer than anything else in this moment. “What the hell was that?” why does she sound angry with you? 

“I’m so sorry, it’s been a long time since we’ve spoken i had no clue he’d even moved here..” you say a pleading in your voice forgetting they probably have no clue who you are or what you mean to spencer; you just try your best not look like the villain in this very compromising moment, you look to Emily for a break she points to the direction of the bathrooms. The sound of you boot clinking quickly away from the group.

“How could this be any worse?” the words slip under your breath at a pace as quick as the steps you were taking. You felt well.. bad there is no better word you could use to describe it. You felt bad for yourself, you felt bad for the team you felt for the unknowing bystanders who had witnessed this weirdly cinematic fight and most of all.. you felt bad for Spencer who’s past was brought back up at his place of work for no real reason. 

Spencer Reid.. that was a name you hadn’t heard in a long time, 12 years to be exact. Last time you’d seen each other was when you were only 16 and he was 18, you two had dated-dated not just some nasty teenage love story where the two of you made out in his car or anything like (even though there was some of that as well) you two dated for two entire years, were each others first everything, first kiss, first partner.. first time and had broken up when.. Spencer proposed to you before you were supposed to move away to New York to get your first degree at NYU. So this definitely brought back some unpleasant memories from his past to say the very least.

After almost 6 weeks of work thing were still awkward.. yes still. But this case was a turning point so to speak, for you and Spencer. You guys were dealing with a fragile ego murderer, who killed attractive women in their 20s at local bars in the Miami area, you and Spencer were tasked with waiting outside the bar unsub was targeting next and that’s just what you did, you waited and waited and did little more waiting. In this time you thought of all 297 ways you could start the conversation with spencer but not a single one left the safe conscience of your brain. You just kinda stare at him it reminded you of when you guys were younger and he’d get mad at some random thing he’d hear on the TV or read in the paper, like when they cut NASA’s funding that was a day full of these kinds of looks ones of sadness and disgust followed by sorrow and piety. Finally you speak up your voice so low you half expected spencer not to even hear you. 

    “i’m so sorry..” spencer turns his head to you a look of confusion clearly displayed on his face. “I’ve already been jumping units in the FBI I’m sure I can get a transfer Emily seems nice enough, right?” the words spill out of your mouth faster than you can even think of why you were saying them or if you were really even willing to transfer?

“Just stop it? Please.” spencer basically cuts you off. His words are harsher than you remembered and his face is less.. colourful, his lips once red and vibrant now a cold greyish pink… and why were you staring at his lips right now? you ask yourself as you scolding yourself mentally before turning to face the window on your side of the car before you do something stupid. You turn your head to say something you already regretted before you had even started your sentence but you were saved by the bell or more accuratly your new lord and saviour Penelope Garcia she speaks up in her usual friendly tone. “Hey Spence, Y/N! Emily needs you guys inside and she apparently couldn’t call you herself said that the “clurb was to turnt?” you both immediately depart from the car and head inside quickly spotting Emily. “We found out via chat rooms with the unsub that he gets off on taking girls when they’re with their boyfriends.. and well y/n your just the unsub’s type, and spencer you’re the only guy here so i was thinking..?” before emily could finish spencer went to speak up but found himself cut off just as quickly by emily “this is our best bet, don’t make me make it a direct order!” emily has sensed the tension between you two but everyone made a direct pack to never profile each other. So she kept her distance from the discussion.

There you were in the tightest dress you’ve worn yet something you bought at a quick window shopping kinda store, it was hitting your upper thigh slowly ridding up as you walked.. now this, this was definitely not work appropriate! spencer approached you, you could hear his breath hitch as he steps closer taking in your figure. “wow you were serious about those pilates classes, huh?” he speaks lowly his cheeks a creeping red, you had said a little before, well you two broke up you wanted to get fit and start taking HIIT classes or Pilates while you had taken a few classes while together you were never consistent but now you knew you’d be running on the field you had definitely slimmed down quite a bit.

“thanks?” you say trying to gauge just how mad spencer still was with you but right now his hand was gently placed on your waist and he had called over for a virgin sheryl temple.. you’re favourite? “you remembered?” you say genuine surprise in your voice. “i remember everything.” his speech is still blunt but this time softer it’s feels like an apology for his earlier reaction just without the i’m sorry part. “If i think i see someone suspicious i’ll just whisper in your ear and if i’m sure ill head for the bathrooms hopefully he comes toward you presumably to flirt, make sure to mention my your boyfriend but still go over for drinks when you’re sure get as close as possible then make the arrest.. and please be careful, sweetheart?” you turn toward him and speak low and deliberately in his ear “this isn’t my first rodeo i got this, sweetheart..” a shiver moves down his spine but before he does something he’ll severely regret the bartender hands you the drink, with two straws? “let’s share?” he asks you as if you’d ever say no to him or a sheryl temple. Finally you get your signal, “he’s right there in the black shirt dark blue jeans holding the beer and his hat, you see him?” you nod and lean in more. “Baby i’ll be back bathroom run, love you!” spencer say quickly and loud enough before departing to the back room watching the security cameras with Emily in the a weirdly large storage room for a bar. Garcia on call also watching along with them. The man approach’s and his first question is about spencer and the next about the colour of your hair if it was real or dyed then drinks he tried to buy you so many drinks but you settle on just a shot, a shot of vodka to be exact then he pulls you by the wrist into him.

At this point spencer has weird pit in his stomach like somethings gonna go wrong a weird need to protect you hits his heart harder than ever but once the man grabs you he is willing to go to war but Emily is holding him back saying something about ruining the set up but it all turns to gibberish in his mind once he see how tightly your wrist is being held almost bruising enough to be seen through a camera. 

Finally you get the mans grip to loosen once you pretend to be tipsier than you truly were and move him against a wall, in case you had to shoot no one was in your line of fire or in any danger of getting hurt. you hadn’t told spencer but you had more than just a pair of handcuff in your purse you had a gun too also a mini teaser shaped like a lipstick gifted to you by a friend down in new york. once you had him against the wall you reach for your purse and take out the gun hiding it with your body as so not to make a scene then pointing it at his crotch  “hands up and turn around slowly, touch me or anyone in there matter a fact and i’ll take you and the little ones out in this very club, do you want that?” you say simultaneously griping his jacket with the free hand.  The man never profiled as suicidal quite the opposite actually he was a man with a fragile ego who took girls away from their boyfriend because he could never be able to hold down a relationship greater than a one night stand with some drugged out prostitute. He turned slowly it was ironic he was so scared of this female agent who he was twice the height of and could take down easily but he never tried confident woman they scared him so just like that, he was handcuffed and Luke was running over from outside to pull him into the cop car. With that spencer ran out and gently held your arm examining it to make sure it wasn’t bruised or worse broken. “I’m fine spence!” the nickname just kinda falls out but spencer doesn’t mind he’s to busy trying to convince you to go to the hospital to be sure you were completely fine. He finally settles on an ice pack handmade from the bar and going to get it looked at once they get back to Quantico. On the plane you were exhausted and quite frankly a little drunk so slumber wasn’t that hard. As you slept Spencer watched you, not in a creepy stalker kinda way more in a nostalgic one he remembered the nights were you would lay your head in his lap while he played with your hair or when you’d lay sound asleep on his chest not a care in the world. After you he thought he’d never love again then he meet Maeve and the universe took that too, a bigger part of himself then he’d like to admit thought he’d truly be alone forever, maybe the universe was sending you back to him for a reason maybe his love story wasn’t over?

[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

[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."

[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!

[lacerrabian]

Do you love to ram and boost and catapult your enemies into walls?

Do you want to make your friends jealous at the sight of your absurd Action Economy without even overcharging?

Do you want to be everywhere all at once without teleporting?

As a "Tank"???

I’ll tell you about my Orchis / Nelson build which is really fun probably idk my level isn’t high enough yet.

Ok we got:

H: 6 if you want

A: 6 the only one that you should max

S: 2 maybe

E: whatever

Talents:

Duelist 3 - gives us accuracy on our first main melee attack, blademaster die to feint which will come in handy as we will be the speed racers of the battlefield, and ofc unstoppable to ram an enemy after hitting them with an attack

House guard 3 - gives us 1 More "Range" for adjacent Effects and when you intercept on attacks you can knock the enemy prone, also you will have Guardian as a Nelson

Hunter 3 - to fly towards the enemy before an aux attack, throw aux weapons and make all weapons return to you, and throw aux weapons as free actions !

Juggernaut 2 - we will be boosting and zooming around so accuracy on a ram (which we can do for free sometimes) is amazing plus the additional knockback will help us to do damage with level 2, knocking enemies into walls deals damage now!

Skirmisher 3 - gives us softcover if we don’t attack, helps us move even more, and makes us dodge the first attack aimed at us as a reaction, cool!

Brutal 1 - for fun :-) - And also if you roll a Nat 20 as the Nelson with these talents and systems you can deal 24 damage at once and I always imagine a cool Anime song playing when that happens and me drilling through the enemy like that time Asuka got pierced with that cool spear in NGE

Systems:

We got 14 system points as the Orchis at level 12, we could go with some systems to get more but basically we can pick: (system points in brackets)

Synthetic muscle netting (2) - makes us knock back bigger enemies, knock 'em all

GMS armament redundancy (1) - if - IF - we lose a structure and a mount gets destroyed the Orchis is fucked

Thermal charge (2) - for damage!

Mimic mesh / scorpion V70.1 (2/2) - pick one, one helps us move even more while the other one has amazing synergy with the following system

Black ice module (3) - so much Defense against Teck attacks….

Magnetic shield (2) - resistance against kinetic damage in a line 4 area - awesome for your low evasion friends

Siege ram (2) - 2 damage on a ram is 2 damage per ram :-)

Other systems I like:

Bulwark mods (1) - if you expect difficult terrain or really don’t like difficult terrain this is great!

Armor lock plating (1) - if you get grappled your gameplan is basically over

Custom paintjob (1) - amazing little system

Core bonuses (in no particular order):

Overpower calibre - for damage

Full subjectivity sync - evasion stacking

Titanomachy mesh - another ram if u ram and +1 knockback for attacks with one knockback

The last one could be anything really I’d go with bigger robot, more HP / armor or Kai bioplating

Weapons:

Good old war pike and any melee aux weapon you like

So what does this do?

Ok so you move / boost towards an enemy, attack them with main and move even more if you want to, knock them back 2 spaces, lunge after them, hit them with aux, ram them for 3 knockback, ram them again or ram someone else, they must be knocked prone but who cares, throw your aux weapon and/or your shield at them while you’re at it! That’s like 6 attacks lol. Potentially it might deal 3D6 (main) , +1D3 (aux) +1D3(thrown aux) + 1D6+2 (ram) +2 (another ram) +3 (thrown shield).

Movement wise u got 8 movement, another 8 when u boost, 2 for skirmishing, 3 for having a melee aux weapon, 3 with mimic mesh and up to 9 when it’s not even your turn just because you’re close to an ally. Wow.

All this combined with the utility the Orchis provides to mobile and fragile allies is so amazing. You can also let your allies position you and just run off and return.

I feel like this build works for both the Orchis and the Nelson, just in their respective ways. Have fun and Lance on! ;^)

[mynameisalanwake]

WIP Wednesday

since i can't stop thinking about my ME3 Omega DLC rewrite - here you go!

Garrus Vakarian was riding high.

His afternoon at the Citadel was nothing short of success: he finally got to check "going to the very top of the Presidium" off his bucket list, the girl of his dreams was just as crazy about him, and it didn’t hurt that they finally proved he was the better shot between the two. He caught himself humming old Earth music Laoise introduced him to as he tinkered with the Normandy’s weapons calibrations when the door slid open, and a very frantic Liara entered.

"Garrus! Please tell me if you’ve seen Shepard."

"Not since I got back from the Citadel. She said an old friend wanted to see her." The asari’s demeanor was making him nervous. "What do you know that I don’t?"

The accusation wasn’t completely unfounded – Liara’s position as the Shadow Broker meant she frequently had intel long before anyone even recognized its value. She was clearly weighing just how much information she needed to give him before sighing with exasperation. "I think it would be best if you saw for yourself." The two quickly crossed the mess hall to the former XO office, now covered from floor to ceiling in monitors displaying vid feeds from across the galaxy. Liara’s drone, Glyph, hovered over eagerly to greet them.

"Dr. T’Soni, I have enhanced the Cerberus communication feeds on Omega as you requested."

"Omega?" The mention of the lawless station that was nearly his early grave piqued Garrus’s attention. Liara gave him a solemn nod, then locked her focus in on her terminal.

"Glyph, do we have confirmation on what’s happening?"

"Affirmative, Dr. T’Soni. Several escape pods of unknown origin crashed into a hangar on the outskirts of the station. Cerberus officers stationed there are currently under heavy fire by outside agitators."

 "Yes, yes, but what about Shepard? Have they said anything else about Shepard?"

"Sightings of Commander Shepard and Aria T’Loak have been confirmed by Cerberus agents on the ground."

Garrus and Liara exchanged a tense look. While the two existed on different ends of the morality spectrum, Shepard and T’Loak were unexpectedly friendly, each considering the other their "pet project." Truthfully, it was no surprise the commander would agree to assist with the incursion – the Afterlife happened to be Laoise’s favorite karaoke spot in the galaxy. She wasn’t going to let it go that easily.

"Can we patch into their comms?" Garrus asked. He tried to keep his tone even, but the question came out rushed, desperate. Liara shook her head, typing away while her eyes anxiously scanned the vid streams. Screens flipped to various angles of Omega, all neon lights and eezo dust with a glowing orange force field blocking off the center of the station. A group of well-armed mercenaries approached – Aria’s people. They took a beat to examine the barrier, then a vorcha charged forward and disintegrated upon impact as Garrus and Liara could only watch in terror. "T’Soni, patch into their comms." The turian repeated his request, now a demand, and his grip tightened on the back of her chair.

"Damn it, Garrus, if I could, I would have already." Liara was getting frustrated, her fingers flying across the keys as she tossed through countless surveillance feeds to find the commander. A flash of dark energy on one of the screens caught their attention – when the commotion settled, they were greeted by the sight of Commander Shepard standing amongst a pile of smoldering mechs before she scuttled offscreen. "Where did she go?"

"There." He pointed at another feed above them that showed Laoise and Aria in a heated discussion. The vids had no sound, but the odds were good they were bickering. Suddenly, the two were gone again, escaping through a hole in the catwalk below them. Liara began scrambling through the rest of the feeds looking for the pair.

"Aria knows Omega better than anyone!" Her tone verged on a whine – the Shadow Broker never liked being out of the loop. "The only comfort is Cerberus likely can’t find them, either."

Garrus racked his brain for memories of his time lurking the station, hoping to recall some secret, all-encompassing floor map, but nothing helpful came to mind. "I remember rumors of some smuggling tunnels under the city, but we just assumed it was the vorcha crawling through the ducts." The longer Laoise was off-screen, the more frustrated the turian became. "Shit, Shepard, we were just with each other. You could’ve told me."

"What were you two up to?" Liara kept her eyes trained on her terminal, but her curiosity clearly got the better of her. "I heard a few C-Sec officers complaining one of the taxis went offline. One mentioned a human Spectre." Garrus felt a heat creep up his neck as he reminisced about his and Shepard’s afternoon together at the top of the Citadel, a peaceful moment that felt a lifetime away now.

"We went to the top of the Presidium," he admitted, "just to pop off some shots together. Let off some steam. She needed a break." That was all she would get out of him – besides, a good turian didn’t kiss and tell. The asari snorted derisively at his half-truth, but before she could needle him for more, Glyph interrupted with a cheerful chirp.

"Dr. T’Soni, I have gained access to a communication channel on Omega. I am patching you in now."

The speakers in the room were now abuzz with chatter even though the monitors still flipped through empty hallways and a now-quiet city center. From the conversations they could make out, it seemed as though Glyph found just the feed they wanted – the Omega resistance.

"Aria, if you think I'm going to let you carve a bloody path through this campaign, you're sorely mistaken." A familiar voice cut through the din, as did her partner’s irritated groan.

[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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