#Advance Air Defence

[defencecapital]

India joins ‘Super Elite Club’ with warship-launched ballistic missile interceptor capable of thwarting China, Pakistan nuke threats

N. C. Bipindra for EurAsian Times New Delhi: India entered an elite club of nations that possess the capability to fire a Ballistic Missile Defence (BMD) interceptor from a naval platform when it successfully carried out the maiden test of the weapon system yesterday. The announcement of the successful test was made today through a statement from the Ministry of Defence (Mod). However, further…

[defencestar]

Spyder Air Defence System: Israel’s MOD, Rafael test latest version of Spyder System

Israel’s Spyder Air Defence System: Israel’s leading defence company Rafael and Israel’s ministry of defence (IMOD), and the Directorate of Defense Research and Development (DDR&D) have successfully tested advanced Spyder Air Defense System in its latest All-In-One Configuration, said the Israeli defence company. In a statement, Rafael Monday announced the successful completion of a test for its…

[varunrajkalse]

Ghatak - INDIA's Unmanned Combat Aerial Vehicle in Marathi

Ghatak – INDIA’s Unmanned Combat Aerial Vehicle in Marathi

Ghatak – INDIA’s Unmanned Combat Aerial Vehicle घातक… ©विनीत वर्तक स्वातंत्राचा अमृत महोत्सव, निमित्त लेख सहावा: काही दिवसांपूर्वी भारताच्या DRDO ने ‘घातक’ या जेट विमानाची चाचणी घेतली. सोशल मिडिया आणि बातम्यांच्या माध्यमातून याबद्दल अनेक ठिकाणी लिहिलं गेलं. पण सामान्य माणसा पर्यंत मानवरहीत एका जेट विमानाची चाचणी भारताने घेतली इतपत ज्ञान पोहचलं. पण प्रत्यक्षात तसं नव्हतं. ही चाचणी अनेक अर्थाने…

[exhaustedcatte]

Detention, boys!

“–pair of troublemakers, they are,” Pomona Sprout wailed. “I know it was them, but there’s no way to prove it.”

Minerva, who’d just walked in, already knew who the offending duo could be. “Potter and Black?”

“Potter and Black,” she confirmed. “Charmed all of my Mandrakes to sing! Sing! Can you believe it?!”

A smile unwillingly pulled on the Gryffindor House-head’s mouth.

“What did they sing?” Professor Sinistra asked curiously.

Pomona ducked, shy. “I didn’t recognize the song, but Ms Bones said it was a muggle band called—ehem.” She cleared her throat and whispered, “The Sex Pistols.”

Minerva suppressed a loud guffaw, forced it back down her throat, and allowed a small grimace. Sinistra had no objections, laughing cheerfully.

“I bet you that was all Lupin,” she said, still grinning. “I’ve heard him giving gospels on muggle music with such ardor, you’d have thought he was being paid to advertise.”

Minerva didn’t know muggle music, but she knew her boys. This prank definitely had their signature on it, not just the handle on magic, but the careless display of talent.

Charming those noisy crybaby Mandrakes was no easy feat.

“I’ll hand out detention for the weekend,” Minerva said easily. “Potter and Black for the frontline work, Lupin for definitely pointing them towards the charms and Pettigrew for stealing all of your Mandrakes,” she raised her brows.

Pomona sighed, smiling.

The thing was, it was easy to detain them for smaller, localised pranks. It had their magical imprint all over it. While they had stepped into juvenile delinquency and thrown dung bombs, most of their practical jokes were, well, practical. Neatly studied and practiced. Difficult charms and jinxes. Hexes that Minerva had almost forgotten about since her own school days.

They’d made the suit of armours duel outside the Defence classroom, transfigured every single notebook in their class into origami birds, charmed it to fly away and got them all let off class. Hexed the Slytherins to speak in haikus for two full days. They’d also frozen the Lake into an ice rink in the cusp of summer post-exams. Pranks against which Finite Incantatem were useless. They put a lot of effort into their jokes, which somehow turned out just as remarkable as their neglected schoolwork.

But she’d given them many cauldrons and trophies and broom closets to clean for all of those, because she knew only they could be responsible for such intelligent tomfoolery.

What was difficult to pin on them was larger, vastly spread magic, because their trace was faint when it was distributed wide, mingling with everyone else’s magic. In theory she would put all her money on it being the Marauders, but she couldn’t simply accuse them when no one had seen them out of bed, no misbehaving, nothing. Very mystifying.

Which was why she was effectively silenced when she walked into the Great Hall on Tuesday. Everything seemed fine at first, but then she noticed, after hearing the excited tittering.

The Slytherins were emerald green. Minerva almost marched down to the quartet – the rivalry was telling. But she glanced around and saw the Hufflepuffs drenched in yellow. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were not spared either, dyed in their own house colours.

Minerva peered down her table. The other professors were trying to puzzle out how this had been achieved. She was silently proud that they kept glancing at the four boys on the far end, as if trying to read the answer straight from their brains. They knew no one else was capable of such advanced magic while still being playful.

Minerva looked over to them.

The Marauders were maintaining a strong air of ignorance despite the obvious looks being thrown their way from students and teachers alike.

Remus was stirring his likely fourth sugar into his tea, while Sirius kept nibbling the untouched toast from his friend’s hand. James was roughing his hair up and laughing at something Peter was whispering into his ear. They were also painted a vibrant red, probably as an alibi.

“I know it’s them,” Dumbledore said lowly, eyes dancing with mirth. “But I do think it’s rather spectacular, don’t you agree, professor?”

She huffed a laugh. “Yes.”

It was hard to tack this on them, not when Potter and Black, who despite knowing magic straight out of the womb, would vehemently deny everything and call it a fluke of someone’s luck. Not when Lupin, a severely clever werewolf who often downplayed his own intellect, would disagree politely and be off in that quiet way of his. Not when Pettigrew, the most unassuming and yet the sneakiest of them all, would lie impressively through his teeth.

She sat back and sipped her tea, enjoying the humorous sight of the bright morning sun reflecting off of the colourful skins of her students. But mostly she was observing her band of troublemakers.

They were still hanging off of each other’s shoulders like limpets, clingy and supremely codependent, in the best possible way. She watched Sirius proof-read a parchment Peter had given him. Remus was feeding James his scones and cream, who was trying, futilely, to tame his hair with a bottle of Fleamont’s Hair Gel that had just arrived with the owls.

These idiot boys, she thought fondly.

There would be no way to prove it was them other than their excited footsteps and victorious laughter that echoed through her office later that day.

Minerva McGonagall stepped into the hallway, unable to tamp down the pride in her voice when she called out, “Detention, boys!”

[thedarlingdearestdead]

Competence:

Summary: Anakin is entranced by you as you lead the council in tactical planning and strategy. He has to get you away.

Warnings: Almost smut, suggestive, storage closet times!

Word count: 1,430

The Jedi Council chamber was filled with the usual air of solemnity as the council members gathered to discuss the latest developments in the Clone Wars. Anakin Skywalker sat among them, his focus divided between the strategic discussions and the presence of the one person who never failed to captivate his attention – you.

Every time he saw you in action, especially during council briefings, he was reminded of just how good a Jedi you were, just how amazing and… Competent. H was extremely powerful and naturally talented himself, but he was in awe of you. 

The council meeting was in full swing, and you were seated at the centre of the long table, your data-pad displaying intricate battle plans and political schematics. Your voice, calm and measured, resonated through the chamber as you outlined your strategic recommendations.

"Based on the latest intelligence reports, it's imperative that we allocate additional forces to the Mid Rim to counter the Separatist advances," you explained, your eyes scanning the faces of the council members. "This will buy us time to bolster defences in other vulnerable sectors."

Your analysis was met with nods of approval from some of the council members, and Anakin couldn't help but feel a surge of pride in your abilities. It wasn't just your beauty that had drawn him to you; it was your intellect, your unwavering commitment to the Jedi Order, and your exceptional understanding in all matters related to the war.

As the meeting continued, Anakin found himself increasingly distracted by your presence. He watched as you deftly navigated the intricacies of galactic politics, your insights into military tactics, and your poised demeanour commanded respect from even the most seasoned Jedi Masters.  Even Yoda had stayed quiet during your explanations.

He longed to reach out and touch you, to convey the overwhelming emotions he felt in that moment, but the sanctity of the council chamber demanded silence. He ached for you though, squirming in his chair and trying to look like he way paying attention. It wasn’t working well. He tried to focus on the discussion at hand, but his mind kept wandering to the thoughts of you. 

Today's council meeting was no different to the hundreds of others that he had to attend these days. But there was something about you today, a new confidence, you truly had the floor and attention of all the others. Your voice, calm and measured, filled the chamber as you laid out your strategic recommendations.

Anakin watched you intently. It was an intoxicating blend of competence and intellect that he found irresistibly attractive.

As the council meeting progressed, Anakin's mind swirled with images of you. He couldn't help but be drawn deeper into his own thoughts. The way your eyes sparkled with determination, the conviction in your voice, and the way you articulated your arguments with precision—all of it only heightened his desire for you.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his Jedi composure wavering as his thoughts strayed from the matters at hand.

While you debated and argued your points with the council members, Anakin's mind wandered to even more forbidden territory. He pictured you in private moments, the two of you sharing stolen kisses and tender embraces. The thought of your passion and your intellect combined made him flush with desire, and he discreetly adjusted his robe to conceal his growing arousal.

Anakin was so engrossed in his fantasies that he didn't notice the meeting coming to a close. Not until you rose from your seat and collected your data-pad, ready to leave as well. As you turned to head for the door, Anakin sprang up from his seat to follow you out.

The council members began to disperse, each returning to their respective duties. Anakin waited for the opportune moment, and when the last council member had left the chamber, he approached you with a determined stride.

You sensed his presence before he even spoke, and turned to face him with a curious expression on your face. "Anakin, is everything alright?" you asked, noting the intensity in his gaze.

Anakin took a step closer to you, his eyes raking over your form. Then he grabbed you by the top of your arm, and looked around the steadily emptying corridor. 

“Come with me.”

You were taken aback by his urgency and thoroughly confused but you went along with him all the same. You trusted him. 

Though you were questioning why as he led you into what looked like a cramped storage closet. 

“Anakin- What-“

But he had already pounced on you, pressing you up against the door and kissing you like his life depended on it. Like he had been thinking about it. 

You were startled but ultimately you gave in and let him and let him have his way. He got like this sometimes, it was exciting. You leaned into the kiss, hands moving up t wrap around his neck.

The two of you were intertwined for quite some minutes, he just kept going and you couldn’t bring yourself to complain or ask for an explanation. You couldn’t even bring yourself to worry over your not-so-hidden and very small location.

Anakin pulled back slightly and grinned hungrily at you, cheeks flushed with pleasure. You raise an amused eyebrow at him. 

Anakin hesitated for a moment, his heart racing in his chest as he struggled to find the right words. "I just wanted to say… that was really impressive in there," he said finally, gesturing through the door towards the now-empty council chamber. 

You felt a deep flush of satisfaction as you saw just how affected he was. You had no idea you would have such an impact on him. His admiration was flattering.

“You held yourself very well, you were so… The council is very lucky to have you.”

“Is that so?” You asked, smirking as you shifted, grinding your hips against his and feeling his erection pressing into your thigh. Feeling his idea meaning instinctively and loving it, loving the power that such a simple display had on him. 

“Mhm…”

“Thank you,” you responded, “I aim to please.”

Anakin’s hands roamed up and down your body, his fingertips softly caressing your arms as he began to become more bold. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”

“You have? ” you asked, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. You could feel his warm breath against your neck and it sent shivers down your spine. 

“You’re just so good at everything you do, it’s… intoxicating.”

“You really do have to stop flattering me,” you laughed, “I don’t know if I can handle it.”

“Yes you can, you can handle everything.” He kissed down your neck, “You handle me so well.” Anakin was getting more and more eager with every passing second. You let out a very soft moan as you felt the stubble on his chin scrape against your neck and shoulders, teasing you with his lips.You brought your hands up to his shoulder and ran your fingers down the length of his neck, softly tracing the outline of his collarbone.

“I try my best.” 

“You never fail to impress me,” he sighed. Your eyes fluttered closed as Anakin dipped his head down to kiss you again.

Anakin held your face in his hands, gently caressing your skin with his thumb as he pressed his lips firmly against yours. He ran his tongue along your teeth and pushed his body closer to yours, feeling the way your curves fit against him. He couldn’t get enough of you, he wanted to feel you over and over.

Under the intensity of his touch you became bolder, your hands moving down to grip his hips and to pull him closer. Anakin moaned into your kiss as you tugged him down lower against you. He ran his hands up your back, tracing diagonal lines across your shoulders and down your sides. Anakin didn’t want to stop touching you, but he wanted more than just that.

He couldn’t work in this space. He needed somewhere where he could get to you more easily, where he could properly attend you. He pullback, pulling a small whine from your lips. 

“We’re going to my quarters,” he whispered into your neck, “That way we don’t have to worry about anyone interrupting.” 

“Alright,” you replied, eyes still closed trying to keep youself under contol, your head tilted back, “Lead the way.”

Anakin wrapped his arm around your lower back and pulled you towards him, pressing his lips to yours again as he pulled you out of the closet. 

[bookofbonbon]

Thank you for everything you've written for Aemond! 💚💚💚

What about "I won't give up on you" or "please don't make me do this" for some Aemond angst?

thank you, you are sweet 🫶🏽 hope you enjoy, hun!

pairing: aemond targaryen x reader.

warnings: death.

word count: 689

a/n: I apologise in advance lol.

You stand at the bottom of the steps of the Dragonstone throne, body stiff and eyes trained on your silver haired lover at the opposite end of the throne room.

“It used to be… it used to be us against the world,” you speak absentmindedly. “And now? Now, it’s you against me.”

A delirious laugh echoes throughout the room, the sound coming from you but, you don’t recognise it.

Heart beating erratically, you hand flexes around the handle of your sword as you wait to get things over and done with.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Aemond pleads, eyeing your hand on your sword. “I don’t want it to be like this… please.”

You tilt your head at him, confused at how he could say that to you after all he had done, all the lives he had taken from you in the name of war.

Blinking once then twice, you shake your head at him – you didn’t recognise him anymore.

“I don’t care what you want anymore.”

A sharp pang goes through Aemond’s chest at your words, knowing that you spoke only your truth; heart breaking when you start towards him with your sword raised.

You strike hard and fast but, your attack is predictable and Aemond is able to duck out of the path of your blade. You don’t slow though, swinging it back around just as quickly. Aemond continues to dodge your attacks, ducking and weaving until he’s forced to raise his own weapon in defence. He still doesn’t attack though, continuing to counter and block your every move until he disarms you and forces you against the nearby wall with his sword dangerously close to your neck.

“Stop this at once!” he begs, searching your eyes for something familiar but, there’s nothing there.

“This only ends in death,” you speak through gritted teeth.

Reaching into your side, you pull a sapphire studded dagger from the sheath holstered to your side and slash at Aemond's abdomen.

Aemond grunts, stumbling backwards. Blood seeps from the shallow wound, staining the cloth of his shirt and Aemond looks at you bewildered, unbelieving of what you had just done.

“No,” Aemond groans in pain. “I won’t give up on you.”

“Then it is you who will die,” you declare.

Aemond’s eye widens as you advanced on him again with the bloodied dagger. Realisation setting in that it had very much become kill or be killed for you. Finally paying for the cost of his crimes and the war he inadvertently started with your love.

“Please stop,” Aemond begs, still stumbling backwards but, you don’t slow; the nearer you get, the more he realises what he may have to do.

“Please don’t make me do this,” he pleads once more, voice shaking.

But, you swing at him and force his hand.

It happens fast; over in a blink of an eye and all of the air is expelled from your lungs as the blade of the sapphire studded dagger is plunged into your own chest.

Time stands still as Aemond’s hand rests on the hilt of the blade that is now embedded in your chest, his other arm wrapped around you. Both of you frozen and struggling to breathe as Aemond's mouth gapes open and tears well in his eye at what he has done. The silence finally broken as you choke on your breath, struggling to get air into your lungs.

“… I’m sorry,” Aemond whispers, broken.

Your body gives way beneath you, unable to hold yourself up as your eyes flutter close and Aemond cradles your body against him, lowering the two of you to the ground together.

“I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… Come back to me… I’m sorry…” Aemond continues to repeat like a prayer.

Pulling you even closer into him, tears wet your hair as Aemond rocks your body in his arms, pressing kisses to your head as shock consumes him.

A harsh sob ripping through his chest when he can no longer feel you breathing against him, his heart break heard throughout the realm and shaking the very ground beneath him. -

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2022. All rights reserved.

[whencyclopedia]

Dunkirk Evacuation

The Dunkirk Evacuation of 26 May to 4 June 1940, known as Operation Dynamo, was the attempt to save the British Expeditionary Force in France from total defeat by an advancing German army. Nearly 1,000 naval and civilian craft of all kinds, aided by calm weather and RAF air support, managed to evacuate around 340,000 British, French, and Allied soldiers.

The evacuation led to soured Franco-Anglo relations as the French considered Dunkirk a betrayal, but the alternative was very likely the capture of the entire British Expeditionary Force on the Continent. France surrendered shortly after Dunkirk, but the withdrawal allowed Britain and its empire to harbour its resources and fight on alone in what would become an ever-expanding theatre of war.

Germany's Blitzkrieg

At the outbreak of the Second World War when Germany invaded Poland on 1 September 1939, France was relying almost entirely on a single defensive line to protect itself against invasion. These defences were the Maginot Line, a series of mightily impressive concrete structures, bunkers, and underground tunnels which ran along France's eastern frontiers. Manned by 400,000 soldiers, the defence system was named after the French minister of war André Maginot. The French imagined a German attack was most likely to come in two places: the Metz and Lauter regions. As it turned out, Germany attacked France through the Ardennes and Sedan on the Belgian border, circumventing most of the Maginot Line and overrunning the inadequate French defences around the River Meuse, inadequate because the French had considered the terrain in this forested area unsuitable for tanks. Later in the campaign, the Maginot Line was breached near Colmar and Saabrücken.

To bolster the defences of France, Britain had sent across the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) under the command of General John Vereker (better known by his later title Lord Gort, 1886-1946). Around 150,000 men, mostly infantry, had arrived in September 1939 to strengthen the Franco-Belgian border. The BEF included the British Advanced Air Striking Force of 12 RAF squadrons. The aircraft were mostly Hawker Hurricane fighters and a few light bombers, all given much to the regret of RAF commanders who would have preferred to have kept these planes for home defence. The superior Supermarine Spitfire fighters were kept safely in Britain until the very last stages of the battle in France. The BEF had no armoured divisions and so was very much a defensive force, rather than an offensive one. More infantry divisions arrived up to April 1940, so the BEF grew to almost 400,000 men, but 150,000 of these had little or no military training. As General Bernard Montgomery (1887-1976) noted, the BEF was "totally unfit to fight a first class war on the Continent" (Dear, 130). In this respect, both Britain and France were very much stuck in the defensive-thinking mode that had won them the First World War (1914-18). Their enemy was exactly the opposite and had planned meticulously for what it called Fall Gelb (Operation Yellow), the German offensive in the west.

Totally unprepared for a war of movement, the defensive-thinking French were overwhelmed in the middle weeks of May 1940 by the German Blitzkrieg ("lightning war") tactics of fast-moving tanks supported by specialist bombers and smartly followed by the infantry. German forces swept through the three neutral countries of the Netherlands, Luxembourg, and Belgium. The 9th Army punched through the Ardennes and raced in a giant curve through northeast France to reach the coast around Boulogne. The BEF and the northern French armies (7th and 1st) were cut off from the rest of the French forces to the south. Germany had achieved what it called the 'Sickle Slice' (Sichelschnitt). By 24 May, the French and British troops were isolated and with their backs to the English Channel, occupying territory from Dunkirk to Lille. Although there were sporadic counterpunches by the defenders, Gort had already concluded that the French army had collapsed as an operational force. Gort considered an attack on the Germans to the south, which he was ordered to make, would have achieved very little except the annihilation of his army. The BEF must be saved, and so he withdrew to the north.

Continue reading...

[stainlesssteellocust]

What would a Tau psyker-caste be called?

Hear me out it’s a few centuries into the future, not going into details, Imperium is still around but fractured into various successor-states, some of which are ironically much more vital and less held back by Imperial baggage. And the Tau have made advances too.

They’ve spliced human genes into cloned Tau, selectively bred those Tau who reacted most sensitively to ‘mind science’ phenomena, they’ve studied the psy-enhancers used by the Votann. And they’ve got a result! It isn’t perfect, it’s still a work in progress, but that just means weird possible unit variations and all.

One consists of a unit that fights with their minds linked together, and combines their collective brainpower to manifest warp-powers on the field. They’re not individually powerful enough to create battle-useful effects yet, you see, but if there’s one thing you can say about the Tau is that they work together. On tabletop they’d start taking penalties to their psy-powers as the unit took casualties.

Next step up would be for those capable enough to fight independently, leader-models with psy-enhancer drones etc who can join units.

And for for the most powerful and skilled there would be a sort of battlesuit: The Tau tech isn’t as good as the Leagues yet (or even the Imperium with their psycannons and stuff) so they need to use a large chassis to get the full effect. I figure most of these psykers couldn’t get possessed or mutated, between their dim souls and the enhancers being built to shut down when things went wrong. But the suits could end up becoming daemon-engines, so they’re a risk to deploy.

Potentially also a Gue’vesa variant where the machines are mostly there to suppress their powers, but who can overclock to become monstrously strong, but only at great risk.

(I don’t think they do the good old “roll a dice for your power” thing any more but it would be fun if they did because they could have a power modelled after each caste including their own. Fire is a blast, water charms or demoralises enemies, air is a movement or teleportation thing, earth strengthens an ally’s defence. Ethereal inspires allies. Their own…helps units cooperate or has some predictive effect? Maybe? Gue’vesa version can choose another list but at added risk of warp bullshit. Some other Tau think their entire existence is between-caste nonsense, and some have started to understand what the Imperium means when they shriek about tech-heretics and forbidden knowledge)

These guys would have a lot of friction from the other Castes. They have to defend themselves in battle without stepping on Fire Caste toes. The technology has to be made, modified and improved with input from psykers, who end up knowing far more about the techs inner workings than the Earth Caste are happy with, psychic orders and guidance potentially messes with the Ethereals…

I figure they carry no guns, but command specialised drones, which they control with their powers instead of technology to practice and hone their skills. They never deploy or take action without full agreement from the other Castes, and direct Ethereal oversight.

By Tau standards, many are quite insane.

[rvps2001]

Russia-Ukraine Daily Briefing

🇷🇺 🇺🇦 Saturday Briefing:

- Ukrainian pilots expected to start F-16 training in Arizona next week - White House accuses North Korea of providing Russia with weapons - Zelensky and Dutch PM agree to boost air defence - Russia destroyed 300K tons of grain since July in port, ship attacks - Ukraine hits Russian navy ships with sea drones - Russian train blown up by Ukrainian partisans, cutting supplies from Crimea - UK to deploy 20K troops in Northern Europe to deter Russian hybrid threats - Bulgaria imposes levy on Russian gas piped across country - EU hopes to advance talks on using Russian assets for Ukraine - PACE declares Russia dictatorship, Putin’s rule illegitimate after 2024

💬 My socials: https://linktr.ee/rvps2001

[babytarttdoodoo]

in the end everything collides

((Winner of Whumptober Poll #2 | Day 6 | Made To Watch)) 

The whole evening had taken such a blindingly bizarre turn that even with the sound of fists meeting flesh and hysterical giggling filling his ears, Sam couldn’t process what he was seeing.

It had started out normally enough. He had been finishing some paperwork at Ola’s after closing, something he had been doing more and more of in the off-season to take at least a little pressure away from Simi.

He had been having fun, even, thanks to Jamie’s unrelenting commentary on anything and everything that popped into his head. His teammate had dropped in for a late dinner and hung around long after closing to keep Sam company when he learned of his plans.

The offer had been gratefully received and only curdled to regret when Edwin Akufo strode in like he owned the place.

His competing restaurant was not faring well, apparently, and that was obviously entirely Sam’s fault. How dare he have competent staff and a talented head chef?

Sam had sighed inwardly when Edwin’s security goons had spread out around the restaurant, gauging how much egotistical posturing and property damage he would likely have to put up with before being left alone again.

He hadn’t really considered what would happen if he fought back because he had no intention of doing so. Jamie, on the other hand, swung first.

Of course he did.

To his credit, he landed more than one solid hit before a bodyguard got hold of his arms and twisted them behind his back. Edwin had teetered between incredulity and rage for only a few moments before manic glee stole over his face.

It was not a good look on him.

“Let him go, Edwin, he doesn’t…” Sam barely started voicing his protests before he was grabbed too, held in place at the silent order of the billionaire, flicking a hand in Sam’s direction like he was an unimportant nuisance. Forgotten in the wake of this new entertainment.

“Ah, ah, what do we have here? Who are you to jump to Obisanya’s defence, hm? Another nobody with delusions of grandeur from kicking a ball?”

Jamie’s face screwed up to one side and Sam’s heart sank.

“Eh, ain’t nothing delusional about my ball-kicking, mate. Get a bit closer and I’ll show you.”

Edwin threw his head back and laughed, loudly. It was wildly out of place in the tense atmosphere and deeply unsettled something in Sam’s gut when he abruptly cut off.

“I do not think so, Obisanya’s friend. But Curtis here is more than happy to get up close and personal.”

‘Curtis’ was well over six feet tall and at least half as wide. Like all of Edwin’s cronies, he was dressed in a fine suit, though the addition of several bulky rings on his fingers seemed unique to him.

“Edwin, please,” Sam tried again, panic and desperation making his voice thin and reedy. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I do not have to do anything,” Edwin crowed, rocking back on his heels, delighting in Sam’s obvious distress. “I choose to do this, just like you chose to so rudely turn down my very generous offer. And your friend here chose to interfere. These are consequences, Sam Obisanya. A lesson for you both to learn.”

Sam pulled helplessly on the arms holding him firmly in place as Curtis cracked his knuckles and advanced on Jamie. The footballer was waiting with a smirk and raised brow.

“Am I supposed to be scared, like?”

The first blow snapped his head to the side. Sam cried out as if it had been meant for him.

Jamie just laughed, licking blood from his lip as he casually straightened up again. “C’mon, put your back into it, lad.”

The second hit slammed into his jaw, sending his skull backwards with such force that the man holding him barely avoided a broken nose.

Jamie took slightly longer to recover, head lolling forward for a moment before he looked up with bloody teeth. “You wanna really swing your hips, mate. Get a bit more momentum.”

The next punch sank into his stomach, forcing a pained grunt out of his mouth along with any air he had in his lungs. He coughed, gasping, and started to laugh again.

“My old man hits harder than that and he can barely piss standing up half the time.”

Curtis glanced back at Edwin with a raised eyebrow, clearly unsettled by his lack of impact on Jamie’s confidence. If they were waiting for him to back down, Sam realised, they would be here all night.

That was not a pleasant thought.

“What are you looking at me for? He told you to hit harder!” Edwin pointed out, annoyed but also eying Jamie’s grinning, manic face warily.

Sam couldn’t say how long it went on for; Curtis continued hitting Jamie and Jamie just kept up a running commentary, getting more and more delirious as it ran on.

There was a horror to it. A numb, dreadful feeling in Sam’s chest as he shouted and pleaded himself hoarse but the violence didn’t stop.

Until it did.

All of a sudden, Edwin flicked his hand again, a deep frown on his face that Sam had no mind to be concerned about. Both he and Jamie were released unceremoniously and he was moving to catch his friend before any other thought had time to form.

Jamie slumped into him, knees given out, still mumbling obscenities and casting aspersions about Curtis’ mother.

Edwin observed them both, making no move to stop Sam from grabbing a nearby chair.

“Your friend is clearly disturbed. You should get him psychological help.”

Sam barely acknowledged him, too preoccupied with holding Jamie up to dignify that with a witty response. The billionaire straightened his jacket with a scoff and beckoned to his entourage.

As quickly as the intrusion had sent the night to absolute hell, they were left alone again. Or, almost alone.

“Francis, I am not in the mood right now,” Sam warned the hovering man when he didn’t seem to be moving on.

“That is fair.” The evening’s events had rocked him so deeply that Sam couldn’t even summon surprise at hearing the handshake aficionado's voice for the first time. “Mr Akufo is leaving the country tomorrow. He is closing his restaurant. This… It is unlikely we will meet again.”

Francis cleared his throat, looking awkwardly out of character from his usual cool, collected demeanour. Not a violent man, Sam realised.

“Goodbye then. You can let yourself out.”

He gave Sam a firm nod, Jamie a lingering look, and did so, leaving them in peace at last.

“Jamie, are you familiar with the concept of self-preservation? At all?” Sam asked urgently, trying to judge how unfocused his eyes were. “Why did you do that?”

“I’m the only one who gets to be a prick to you,” Jamie slurred, struggling to keep upright. “‘Sides, he really didn’t hit that hard.”

Sam was justified, he thought, in finally letting himself cry.

[ukrainenews]

(This situation is very much a developing thing and there's a lot of conflicting and wrong information out there right now. I know I've been absent lately, but I'm keeping an eye on things.)

Russian mercenary boss Yevgeny Prigozhin said on Saturday his Wagner fighters had crossed the border into Russia from Ukraine and were prepared to go "all the way" against Moscow's military, hours after the Kremlin accused him of armed mutiny.

As a long-running standoff between Prigozhin and the military top brass appeared to come to a head, Russia's FSB security service opened a criminal case against him, TASS news agency said. It called on the Wagner private military company forces to ignore his orders and arrest him.

Wagner fighters had entered the southern Russian city of Rostov, Prigozhin said in an audio recording posted on Telegram. He said he and his men would destroy anyone who stood in their way.

Prigozhin earlier said, without providing evidence, that Russia's military leadership had killed a huge number of his troops in an air strike and vowed to punish them.

He said his actions were not a military coup. But in a frenzied series of audio messages, in which the sound of his voice sometimes varied and could not be independently verified, he appeared to suggest that his 25,000-strong militia was en route to oust the leadership of the defence ministry in Moscow.

Security was stepped up on Friday night at government buildings, transport facilities and other key locations in Moscow, TASS reported, citing a source at a security service.

Russian President Vladimir Putin was getting around-the-clock updates, TASS said, while the White House said it was monitoring the situation and would consult with allies.

Kyiv, meanwhile, said the major thrust in its counteroffensive against Moscow's invasion had yet to be launched. "The main blow is still to come," Deputy Defence Minister Hanna Maliar told Ukrainian television.

A top Ukrainian general reported "tangible successes" in advances in the south - one of two main theatres of operations, along with eastern Ukraine.

'OBEY PRESIDENT,' GENERAL SAYS

The deputy commander of Russia's Ukraine campaign, General Sergei Surovikin, told Wagner fighters to obey Putin, accept Moscow's commanders and return to their bases. He said political deterioration would play into the hands of Russia's enemies.

"I urge you to stop," Surovikin said in a video posted on Telegram, his right hand resting on a rifle.

The standoff, many of the details of which remained unclear, looked like the biggest domestic crisis Putin has faced since he sent thousands of troops into Ukraine in February last year.

Prigozhin, a one-time Putin ally, in recent months has carried out an increasingly bitter feud with Moscow. Earlier on Friday, he appeared to cross a new line, saying the Kremlin's rationale for invading Ukraine, which it calls a "special military operation," was based on lies by the army's top brass.

Wagner led Russia's capture of the Ukrainian city of Bakhmut last month, Russia's biggest victory in 10 months, and Prigozhin has used its battlefield success to criticise the leadership of the defense ministry with seeming impunity - until now.

For months, he has openly accused Defence Minister Sergei Shoigu and Russia's top general, Valery Gerasimov, of incompetence.

Army Lieutenant-General Vladimir Alekseyev issued a video appeal in which he asked Prigozhin to reconsider his actions. "Only the president has the right to appoint the top leadership of the armed forces, and you are trying to encroach on his authority," he said.

UKRAINE SAYS MAJOR THRUST AHEAD

On the ground in Ukraine, at least three people were killed in Russian attacks on Friday, including two who died after a trolleybus company came under fire in the city of Kherson, regional officials said.

Addressing the pace of the Ukrainian advances, several senior officials on Friday sent the clearest signal so far that the main part of the counteroffensive has not yet begun.

"I want to say that our main force has not been engaged in fighting yet, and we are now searching, probing for weak places in the enemy defences. Everything is still ahead," the Guardian quoted Oleksandr Syrskyi, the commander of Ukraine's ground forces, as saying in an interview with the British newspaper.

General Oleksandr Tarnavskyi, commander of Ukraine's "Tavria," or southern front, wrote on Telegram: "There have been tangible successes of the Defence Forces and in advances in the Tavria sector."

Tarnavskyi said Russian forces had lost hundreds of men and 51 military vehicles in the past 24 hours, including three tanks and 14 armoured personnel carriers.

Although the advances Ukraine has reported this month are its first substantial gains on the battlefield for seven months, Ukrainian forces have yet to push to the main defensive lines that Russia has had months to prepare.

[innerchorus]

Thinking about the Turanian invasion (the one in the canon era, not the one that's looming over the horizon in the fic rn) and Kishward (and Bahman?) imploring lords around the country to omg go and help Team Gorgan PLEASE and thinking about who'd show up... I think Lushan would. He just has that air about him— I wonder if Tus and Zaravant would, and if so, what would prompt them...

Meanwhile Gorgan is chaos.

(also thinking a lot about Ranna and Alfarīd, help me)

Ooh, some logistics at play here! Since this is AU based I'm not sure how much advance warning they have of the Turanian army's approach but from the sounds of it in this scenario the border has already been breeched and Team Gorgan are attempting to hold them up which... I don't envy them the task but it sure sounds like it'll be exciting to read about.

I don't know what Bahman's mental state is like here but if he's troubled by anything like he is in canon then I imagine Kishward may take the lead... However, Bahman still has some steel in him and it's not unbelievable to think that Gorgan's need for reinforcements would galvanise him into action (though perhaps he's more likely to eventually surprise everyone by stepping forward to lead troops to bolster the defences himself rather than taking the lead with initially reaching out to various lords etc, which is a task I imagine would fall to Kishward while Bahman is still beset by apathy and other worries).

I assume they're sending messages to ask for reinforcements? That makes it even harder to apply pressure on reluctant lords, so they're probably aware of who they can likely count on and who they can't (Andragoras may have been able to essentially strong-arm the shahrdaran but many of them, like Hodir, would be content to sit and wait and see how things play out in his absence, especially if their own territory is not under threat.)

It's a tricky one because it's Prince Arslan's presence and proclamations that draw the various lords and their troops to Peshawar. It's hard to say exactly how many would come otherwise. I feel as though Zaravant would, he evidently feels a sense of duty towards his country and would put himself forward to represent Oxus as he does in canon. The fact that the Marzbans in Peshawar are trying to organise further defense of the border and Pars's lands would likely be enough for him. That might be a nice surprise for Kishward and Bahman who may have assumed nobody from Oxus would come. Tus would go too, probably. He has a garrison of men who would be of great help.

Lushan likewise would help if he could, even if he's not shown leading troops on the battlefield himself he's still had a military education and would presumably have troops available to him. One thing to consider though is where everyone is coming from and how much time they have (as in, how fast do they need to get to Peshawar and then on to Gorgan in order to be of real help?). This is a large invasion and the Turanians probably have very good troop mobility, I don't know how long Gorgan could hold them before they break through or bypass their defences and beseige Peshawar itself instead. Some characters might have some debate about whether it's worth leaving their lands or whether it would be better to sit tight and wait, especially as Andragoras's fate is unknown. There's likely no precedent for what to do when the Shah is missing.

I don't know how helpful these ramblings will be since a lot depends on the specifics of your AU! Happy to talk about it more (though I won't be online again now until later or maybe tomorrow).

[alucarddear]

Headcanons for if reader gets kidnapped and Alucard comes to save her/him/them? Anything from bandits to cruel nobles would be awesome! (I'm a sucker for a good rescue romance, cliché I know)

Hmm, the two requests are close enough, right? I’ll choose to be lazy here.

Rescue headcanons incoming! [Alucard x You]. So I assume there’s no self-defence knowledge at all at our disposal here so our prince can come swoop in for the rescue!

He’d been on edge for some time before he even heard you screaming from quite a ways away. He felt that something had gone wrong when it took you twice, almost thrice as long to do your share of chores. And gorged on your precious blood just recently, his heightened hearing picked up on your scream with more clarity than he’s usually capable of. He’s sure you’re in danger. Quickly, he wore his coat and gathered his sword and came to your rescue.

To say Alucard is pissed is an understatement. He is snarling, growling, absolutely seething. How dare they take what’s precious from him?!

However, as soon as he’s facing your kidnappers, he appears to be the very opposite of how he feels on the inside.

He’s cold. It feels as if he brought winter with him. So icy that anything that breathes in the vicinity might shudder.

“If you care at all for your continued existence,” he grits out as he slowly but surely advances towards your kidnappers, his presence large as life, death looming in the corner. His voice is modulated yet teeming with venom—“You’ll stop this nonsense and go. Now.”

The whole time though, his eyes are on you—checking for injury, honey eyes scanning for any scratch at all. He longs to comfort you, to have you in his arms as soon as possible, but he knows he has to play his cards right, especially with that blade pressed against your throat.

Now what happens next depends on how stupid brave your kidnappers are.

His heirloom sword is hovering right next to his head, ready to fly at them any moment now. His threat hangs in the air, making your kidnappers gulp.

When they took you, they had no idea you were the infamous Alucard’s special someone or they would have never done it. After shopping in the market, they’d followed you home. You simply looked to them like somebody who came from money and they needed it badly. Little did they know that your lover would find you even before they could formulate a plan to exchange you for gold.

The floating sword, the large gash on his chest, the fangs that peek through… Hell, his description matches the dhampir known to live in the area. Shit. The pathetic band of thugs promptly lets you go. Forgotten sword clattering on the ground, they push you towards the dhampir and flee, stumbling and quivering as they go.

You lurch forward, staggering straight into your lover’s arms. Tears of fear and of relief spring from your eyes and he’s hushing you, squeezing you in his arms, apologising. “I’m sorry, my love,” he tells you. “I should have come with you.”

“It’s alright now,” he pats your hair, enveloping you in his warm embrace. “There, there…”

When you look up at him, still shaken with tears in your eyes, it shatters his heart, it makes him frown.

“I’m here now. You’re safe now,” he tells you, plain and true. The surest thing in the world. And so you are, for as long as he’s with you.

Needless to say though, you’re banned from doing groceries all by yourself, at least for the foreseeable future. He’s never going to risk you again.

[naavispider]

Egghead

Rating: Gen

Word count: 3,506

Summary: I’ve run out of excuses I just like it when Quaritch is protective and Spider hates it 🤠

Lyle has always been too eager on the trigger. Spider has always had a knack for getting himself into sticky situations. Put the two of them together in a hunting party and disaster was bound to strike.

In which someone has to tell the Colonel that his son's been shot.

Read on AO3 or under the cut ✨

“Stop!” Spider’s cry rang out through the dense clearing, but it was drowned out by the sound of thundering gunfire and the roar of the terrified viperwolf.

“Stop shooting! She won’t attack!”

To his left, Mansk and Walker were crouched behind a fallen tree trunk, opening fire. To his right, Wainfleet and Z-dog were trying to advance, darting forwards to take cover behind whatever fallen piece of forestry they could. The rest of the quad were far away, back at the camp.

The viperwolf roared deafeningly - a heart wrenching sound of pain and fear. Spider had recognised its hurt immediately. The female had been prowling the perimeter of her territory, guarding her newborn young by the looks of her belly, when the hunting party had stumbled too close. Spider had immediately yelled at the recoms to stop, but in their greed and foolishness they had opened fire, seeing her as an immediate threat.

“STOP FIRING!” He screamed at them again, but it wasn’t enough. The female viperwolf was dazed - deciding which threat to charge first while taking shelter behind a huge fallen tree. The recoms were on both sides; she’d already taken several hits and if she came out again, she could be seriously injured. But Spider knew she’d do anything to protect her young. He made his decision in a split second, half surprised when his legs carried him forwards and towards the animal. He had to put himself between them - otherwise she would be shot to death.

“Easy, easy there…” he called out to the viperwolf, raising his hands in defence as he cautiously tried to get as close as he could. Eywa had always blessed him with his affinity for the wildlife, but even Spider knew this was reckless.

“Spider, get back here!” He could hear Wainfleet’s order ringing in his ears, but he ignored it.

“Be calm. I won’t hurt you. Turn around and go back to your family. I promise I’ll lead them away. Be calm…”

“Kid, get back HERE!”

Spider had advanced to only a few feet away from the tree that the creature was hiding behind. The recoms had finally stopped firing. He could hear the animal’s heavy panting, feel the growls and the raised shackles, even though she was mostly out of view.

“Go back. I’m sorry.” He took another tentative step forward, hoping to be able to touch her, to pass along his words through connecting with her skin. He didn’t own a queue, but that had never stopped him from being able to communicate with the animals. His boldness had prompted Jake to tell him he’d get himself killed before he ever reached adulthood. Jake had been wrong - so far.

“Calm yourself. I won’t hurt you.”

The ground they were stood on trembled with the viperwolf’s fear and anger, and after another step she came fully into view. Her warm breath cascaded over Spider, and he could make out multiple bullet wounds all along her flank. Luckily, her face and limbs had avoided much damage, but she must be in a lot of pain.

“Be calm.”

“Kid, I swear to God!”

The shout from Wainfleet was enough to scare the viperwolf, who had been temporarily subdued by Spider’s calming voice. Upon hearing the anger in the recom’s shout, she gave a mighty roar, spit flying over Spider’s mask and neck, and she leapt from her hiding place - right over the top of Spider. Her claw sank into Spider’s shoulder as she leapt, while at the same time, gunfire returned to the air and Spider was deafened by the noise and his own pain as something white hot seared through his thigh. He collapsed to the floor, clutching his injured leg and praying against sense that the recoms wouldn’t kill the wolf. He lay on his back, completely winded - unable to get up. After what seemed like only a moment, the clearing fell silent. Gone was the gunfire and shouts and roars. There was only the canopy above Spider.

“Shit!” Wainfleet’s face appeared at the edge of his vision, his bald head an ugly blemish on Spider’s beautiful view of the trees.

“It’s not that bad. I’m fine-” Spider managed to get out. The last thing he needed was for this to set him back. He tried to sit up, but his head swam and someone’s arm caught him from behind. “Fuck.”

“Stay fucking still kid, Jesus.”

Spider bit his tongue. He wasn’t sure why Wainfleet was so angry at him. He hadn’t done anything except try and mitigate the recoms’ own stupidity. He glanced down his body to see a deep gunshot wound through his thigh - there was a lot of blood and it was difficult to tell how far it had penetrated the leg. If pain was anything to go by, it should have been blown off completely. He was barely aware of the burn in his shoulder as blood trickled from the scratch that the viperwolf had left him. It felt like only a flesh wound - he’d worry about it later. He cried out in frustration as he realised that he couldn’t walk. Spider hated being helpless. “How does it look?” He asked through clenched teeth and closed eyes, unsure he actually wanted to know the answer.

“It’s just a scratch,” Z-dog yelled, but Spider groaned. He banged his head back on the grass, trying to ignore the blistering pain that paralysed his entire leg.

“Buckle up kid and don’t move,” Wainfleet commanded, and before Spider could protest, he was being pulled up and over Wainfleet’s shoulder. Even if he could get enough air in his lungs, he wouldn’t have the energy to protest. He hated being carried.

The pain of being moved made his head swim and he cried out. Seeing the ground suddenly six feet below him did not help matters.

“Easy kid, we’ll get you back and Ja can fix you up.”

When he could catch his breath, he had enough energy to mutter an ominous warning. “Quaritch is gonna kill you.”

The fact that Wainfleet did not reply told Spider all he needed to know.

“Hey! Shut up kid, if you know what’s good for you,” Walker grunted from behind.

Spider cried out again when Wainfleet leapt over a small creek, jostling him. The pain was starting to become intolerable. In this position, blood had started to trickle down from his shoulder, down his arms and hands, which in Spider’s already heightened state of anxiety only added to his panic. He tried to push himself up on Wainfleet’s shoulder by gripping the man’s belt with his hands, but it was more painful to try moving than just lay limply down his back. “Ahh!” he cried when Wainfleet hitched him higher.

“Someone let the boss know!” Wainfleet ordered.

It was no surprise that Lyle didn’t want to be the one to deliver the message. Spider huffed amusedly against his back.

“Colonel, this is Z-Dog, come in,” said Z-dog into her communicator. Spider couldn’t see anything apart from the forest floor, but he heard her words spoken directly into his ear through the earpiece.

“Zdinarsk, go ahead.”

This is gonna be good.

“We’re five minutes away. Prep trauma kit.”

“Who?” His father’s alarmed voice came immediately.

There was a pause, before Z-dog had the balls to respond. “Spider.”

There was a pause that seemed to last a lifetime before Spider heard his dad’s voice again on the comms, and when he did, he was thankful he wasn’t directly on the other end of it. Anger rippled through Quaritch’s next words, and Spider could picture his furious face as if he were right in front of him. “What happened?”

“Viperwolf attack. The kid ran towards it.”

Pain clouded the next few seconds of conversation. All Spider could focus on was breathing - making sure each lungful of oxygen kept him sustained. He’d sweated so much that his mask had fogged up, and more than anything he wanted to rip it off.

“Spider, come in.”

Spider groaned internally at the thought of just pulling his hand up to press the comms button on his neck. The hunting party was silent while they waited for Spider to talk.

“I swear to God,” Quaritch’s furious whisper echoed down the line, sending fear into Spider in a way that an angry viperwolf never could.

With immense effort, he lifted his hand up to his neck and pressed. “M‘fine,” he managed to gasp out, before quickly dropping his hand down. When did he get so weak? He felt his eyes begin to droop, and knew that he was passing out.

Fuck.

“He doesn’t sound fucking fine.”

“What are his injuries?” That was Ja, Spider thought. He tried to focus on the words to save himself from succumbing.

“He’s… shot in the upper leg. Can’t see bone, but there’s a shitload of blood.”

Spider could practically see Quaritch’s face in front of his eyes as he found out that Spider had been shot, not injured by the wildlife.

“Wrap something clean around it, tightly.” That had to be Ja, but it was hard to keep track of who was saying what, especially with his mind clouding over…

“We’re almost there…”

He got the sense that the recoms in the hunting party just wanted to get him back to the medic as soon as possible. They weren’t going to stop when they were only a couple of minutes away. Finally, voices from the main group surrounded him, not just playing over comms anymore.

“Spider? Can you hear me?”

He was aware of being taken down off Wainfleet’s shoulder and laid on the floor. This was more comfortable, but he was fighting to stay awake, so it barely mattered. He groaned his confirmation.

Hands were on his leg, and something cold was being poured over the wound. Immediately, the burning eased. “Don’t… b’mad.”

“I ain’t mad at you, kid.” Quaritch’s face was hovering above him, his features hardened in concern. Spider had never seen his eyes so deeply. Amber irises surrounded pitch black pupils that seemed so endless it felt like he could fall right into them. Spider closed his eyes, rolling his head to the side to avoid looking.

“Sharp sting,” came Ja’s voice, but Spider couldn’t feel whatever Ja was dosing him up with.

“How bad s’it really?” He asked.

“You’re gonna be out of action for a little while, champ.”

For the first time, anxiety trickled into Spider’s stomach. “Not back… don’t take me back to…”

“If I don’t have to, I won’t,” Quaritch replied, giving Spider a little comfort.

“Ja?” Spider asked, lifting his head up to try and see his injury better. Ja was bent over his leg, hard at work wrapping it tightly in crisp white bandages. He kept from crying out, but he couldn’t help himself from wincing.

“I need to assess how much blood you’ve lost before I decide anything. Just lie back and relax.”

“I’m fine.” Even as he said it, the effort of holding his head up was beginning to drain him.

“Have you seen the state of you?” Quaritch looked over Spider’s leg, which had been drenched in the blood running off the wound, and to his arm and shoulder which were also bloody from the claw scratches.

“It’s fine,” Spider mumbled, the terror of being sent back to Bridgehead far more scary than possibly bleeding out on the forest floor. Ja reached over and gently pushed his head back down to the ground, before taking his hand and inserting something into the back of it. He rummaged for something in his pack and connected it via a tube to Spider’s vein. A bag of some sort of fluid.

“Okay,” Ja sighed. He applied some other piece of equipment over one of Spider’s fingers, before studying the screen of his holopad. “He looks to be stable, but we’ll need to camp here tonight. He can’t be moved unless by Samson.”

Quaritch nodded, and barked at the others to set up a perimeter and establish camp. “It’s okay, kid. You’re gonna pull through.”

He and Ja lifted him closer to a fallen tree, where they set up a more substantial shelter, much to Spider’s annoyance and embarrassment. Whatever Ja had given him, he was starting to feel better already. “I promise,” Spider complained, frustration seeping into his voice. “I’m good!”

He attempted to push himself up, his plan being to stand up on his good leg to prove that he still had capability, but he was pushed down before he could actualize it, and when Ja said “sharp scratch” again, this time he could feel the needle going in. His eyelids grew heavy and Spider suddenly didn’t have the energy to fight sleep off any longer.

When he woke, it was morning. He could tell by the light and the sound of the birds above him. The ground was hard beneath him, but someone had laid a folded up jacket under his head. His shoulder was covered in a large bandage, stuck to his skin at the edges with medical tape. He blinked groggily, his senses returning to him. His leg was painful but also itchy. Immediately, he wanted to grab it and scratch away the bandages, but held back when he caught sight of Quaritch sitting nearby on his holotablet.

Glancing up, Quaritch put his work down and shifted closer. “How do you feel, hotshot?”

“Crap,” Spider groaned. His throat was so dry. Then, remembering what was at stake, decided to back track. “I mean, I’m fine. It hurts but I can walk and stuff.”

A bemused smile slid over Quaritch’s face. “Drop the bravado, tiger. You ain’t walking anywhere, at least not for a while.”

To prove him wrong, Spider immediately sat up. He was slow, causing Quaritch to chuckle, but the Colonel didn’t try to stop him. Nobody else was up, and Spider cringed at the thought that Quaritch must have watched him all night. He gripped a nearby stem and rolled so that he was on his good side. Then, with a huge amount of effort, pushed himself so he was kneeling on his uninjured leg.

“Alright, that’s enough kid. I believe you.”

Spider narrowed his eyes in anger. “Do you?”

Quaritch cocked his head to the side, assessing whether or not to argue with the injured boy. “Sit back down,” he said calmly, but there was no denying the authority that laced the order. Reluctantly, Spider sat against the tree, the rough bark uncomfortable in his agitated state.

“I can’t believe you fucking shot me.”

It was obvious Spider wasn’t talking about Quaritch directly, more so the RDA. A shadow crossed Quaritch’s face as he took in the teenager’s accusation.

“Wainfleet is lucky to be alive.”

The words unnerved Spider, and so did Quaritch. It had been an accident, Spider knew that, and although he was sure he should probably be pissed, right now he was just thankful that no real harm had been done. The thought that Quaritch would go as far as murdering his second in command for this was surely an exaggeration. Wasn’t it?

He watched Quaritch carefully for signs of hyperbole, but found none. A shiver went down his spine.

He felt the need to defend Wainfleet, but caught himself in the nick of time. Wainfleet and the rest of the trigger-happy morons that made up the hunting party were entirely to blame for the whole fiasco. If they had just listened to Spider and not attacked the viperwolf then Spider wouldn’t have been hurt and more importantly there wouldn’t be a litter of hungry pups somewhere wondering why their mom hadn’t come to feed them yet.

“Drink.”

Spider accepted the flask handed to him. He took a deep breath and removed the mask that prevented him from suffocating. When he was done, he handed back the empty bottle to Quaritch. “What time is it?”

“Just gone seven. You were out for about twenty hours. Are you hungry?”

Spider nodded again and Quaritch passed him a human ration pack. Spider made a sarcastic show of looking grateful. “Yum, lovely vacuum sealed powder.”

Quaritch frowned disapprovingly, although Spider could tell he wasn’t really in trouble. “You want it or not?”

“Have you ever tried, I don’t know? Eating what Eywa provides for you?”

“Alright smart guy. Eating what ‘Eywa provides’ for us is what got you into this state in the first place. I think I’ll stick to military grade precision meals.”

Spider rolled his eyes. “It’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, well. I like my Spiders whole.” Quaritch paused, realising what he’d just said.

He was not the only one mightily embarrassed. Spider tore off the corner of the packet and poured in a small amount of water without saying anything more.

They sat in an awkward silence for a minute or two, and when Spider was done, he asked the question that had been burning on his lips since he woke up. “Are you gonna send me back to Bridgehead?”

Quaritch appraised Spider from the side, like a spectator watching a tense snooker game. His eyes flicked from Spider’s wound to his face. “No,” he said simply. “Not unless you annoy me too much.”

“Really?” Spider asked. Despite all his show, he knew that his leg was busted. This would set the mission back by at least several days.

“No one back there needs to know this happened, got it?”

Spider didn’t need to be told twice. He nodded his understanding.

“So no more putting on a show and acting like we’re training for the Olympics, alright?”

Spider frowned. “The what?”

“Forget it,” Quaritch waved it off with a hand. “Just stay down or I’ll get Ja to put you out again.”

While Spider did not appreciate the threat of sedation, he was filled with a hope that suddenly made the future look a lot less scary. The fact that Quaritch wasn’t sending him back must surely mean that he didn’t want Spider exposed to the kind of treatment he’d received there last time? And being stationary for a few more days was annoying for the squad, but ultimately helpful for Jake and the others. It gave them more time to prepare for their next move, whether that was relocating High Camp or launching an attack on the city.

When the rest of the camp began to stir, most of them sent Spider a friendly wave or snarky comment about being alive as they grabbed breakfast. Wainfleet, Spider noticed, kept his distance while Quaritch sat with him, but when the Colonel got up to sort his own stuff out, the second in command came over.

“Hey champ, how you doing?”

Spider shrugged. “I’d be better if I wasn’t shot.”

Wainfleet took a heavy breath, and directed his gaze at the ground. “Look kid. I’m sorry I shot you. I was aiming for the wolf and she just pushed you in a way that… Well anyway, I’m sorry.”

Spider eyed him, feeling stupidly superior for having one over on the egghead. “How the hell did you get into the RDA with your aim so crap?”

Wainfleet grinned conspiratorially. “It’s all in the talk.”

Spider shook his head, smiling. “Loi.”

“Yeah, whatever. I came to apologise but if you’re gonna be a little smart mouth…”

“Piss off.”

Wainfleet retreated jovially back to the main circle of the camp as Ja came over to do his checks.

“How long till I can walk?” Spider asked, wasting no time. He didn’t need to hear whatever Ja wanted to tell him about his vitals or his fluids.

“Not for a while with an attitude like that,” Ja responded slyly.

“Seriously.”

“As long as it doesn’t get infected, a week maybe. You were lucky. The bullet passed through cleanly and narrowly missed your femoral artery.”

Spider huffed, unconvinced. “Yeah, real lucky.”

“I know it’s hard with your mask,” Ja continued, “but keep up your fluids. Drink plenty and for God’s sake, don’t put any pressure on your leg. Just let it heal.”

“Got it, doc.”

Ja eyed him for a moment longer, making sure that Spider was genuine, before returning to the others.

“He’s gonna be insufferable,” Z-dog muttered to Ja as he returned, eyeing Spider with disdain.

Spider flipped her off, which she returned in good faith.

She was right really. Now that he’d literally been shot by his own squad, Spider could hold this over them for… well, as long as he was with them. The thought brought back his musings about rescue missions and escape attempts, but neither of which seemed likely to happen soon given his current condition. Spider sighed as he laid back against the moss covered floor, finally left alone. He said a quiet prayer to Eywa, closing his eyes and concentrating as he asked her for healing and patience. This was going to be a long week, but at least he’d have a cool battle scar to show Lo’ak when he finally returned home.

[mariacallous]

[aussiepineapple1st]

Listen I’m not the most creative gal in town. I replay the same angsty scenarios in my head so I’m the worst with requests hehe you know cheating, death, mind control, break ups always have me frothing at the mouth. I’m a simple girl I see Leon hurting and I’m rabid.

-🤠

Well then... How about something like this? Just for my rabid 🤠 -Love Mummy Angst😈💖

Blue Skies

Words: 797 Contains: Blood, pain, whump, death.

Both of you had been getting on Saddler's nerves, continuously fighting against the Plaga in your body. Rejecting any advancements it made inside of you, and taking down each lackey he threw at you. Currently you were stood at the edge of a cliff, a large drop down to the ocean below. Saddler stood high over the both of you, Leon flat on his back with your boot on his throat. He could feel you fighting your own body, the pressure of your foot on his throat would lessen enough to allow him to take a gasp of air.

Looking down to Leon gripping your ankle tight, his face scrunched up as his eyes started to flutter, rolling up. He couldn't move his own body, Saddler controlling him to stay still as you asphyxiate him. "NO!!" You shout out, you had to get your foot off his throat or he was going to die. Letting out a deep guttural shout that burned the base of your throat, you reach for the gun on your hip and with all your might shoot up at Saddler.

He has to duck thanks to your impeccable aim, this gave you enough time to throw yourself back away from Leon who coughs. Rolling to his side you groan as you sit up, Leon grabbing his own pistol from the ground you had kicked away in your own defence.

"Are you okay?" You ask looking up to where Saddler was now standing up straight once again. Leon suddenly cries out in pain as he throw himself backwards, back arching and hands clutching at his navy shirt. His legs thrash around as the black veins darken throughout his entire body.

Leon was the more formidable of the two of you, so Saddler was currently focusing everything he had on him. If you weren't going to kill him under his control, then he was going to do it himself. You aim your gun up towards Saddler, but Leon kicks it from your hands. His face contorted with pain, his teeth gnashing as the tendons in his neck protrude. Leon starts to spit blood through his teeth, you reach for your second gun behind your back and aim it at a red barrel just off in the close distance. This was going to hurt, but anything to stop whatever was happening to your Partner.

Shooting the barrel it explodes, the force pushing you both off the edge. Now tumbling down towards the water below you try reaching for Leon's hand mid-air. Grabbing a section of his pants you pull him towards you. Wrapping an arm around neck and shoulders to secure him against your chest, your other arm reaches over your own head to break the fall. You swear if it weren't for some large rocks breaking the surface tension you would have dislocated your shoulder. Swimming further underwater to get away from the rest of the falling rocks you pull Leon up to breach the salty, cold water.

"Leon!!" You splutter resting the back of his head on your shoulder. "Leon, Answer Me!!" Swimming as fast as you could towards an open cave in the side of the cliff, you manage to drag Leon from the water. The black veins still very prominent under both of your skin, you roll Leon to his side still seeing the blood running from his mouth.

Whatever it had done inside of him was severe, he was still breathing, but you could hear he was struggling. "Leon.. Please!" You cry out, tears mixing with the salty water dripping down your face from your hair. He was weak, but he was still conscious, listening to your heart wrenching cries of asking him to talk to you. He couldn't say anything, he couldn't move his body. He couldn't even feel anything.

"Blue..." Leon squeezed out. You stop your please, but still cry as you lay down beside him.

"Please don't... not now." You didn't want to hear the next word, you knew it was coming.

"Skies..." He gasped. You choke out a sob and sit back up, pulling him into a half seated position as you hold him in your arms. Blue skies. It was your code word neither of you wanted to hear the other say.

It meant that even though they were gone, the sky would still be blue. Blue skies was your code word for 'I'm about to die, I can feel myself slipping away'. "I've got you.." You say as you gently rock him. You look down at his face as he looks up to you, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone you wipe his own tears away as his eyes gently closed.

Just like that, your love, your world, exhales his last breath in your arms.

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat @growingupnrealizing @starcrossedreaders