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[jjenthusee]

Steady Breaths and String Lights

Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: another drabble 😫 i’m really into domestic jason rn so don’t mind me giving yall soft jason content <3 ENJOY and tell me your domestic jason headcanons in the comments if u have any :D

A brand new couch.

It was a deal from a discount furniture store and once you had laid your eyes on it, how could you pass up the deal?

No tears, a good color, the store wanted to get rid of it, so they slapped a large discount tag on it and it came with the decorative pillows. How could you not have it?

One card swipe later, you were the proud owner of this new couch.

The process getting it in your apartment was different. You had no vehicle to haul it, but you managed to convince the company to do one delivery for you.

After your great declaration of strength and independence (and with the help of your neighbors) you moved the couch.

The living room was complete with the new furniture.

You were practically an interior designer.

If Jason wasn’t gone for the week, he would’ve told you that was a stretch, but he had boring taste anyway.

After a good wash and spray, you moved the cushions into place, angling the decorative pillows perfectly and shifting a pristinely folded blanket for a unique touch. It was just like how you saw it in the store.

Then curiosity got the better of you and all the cushions were taken out again, placed at different angles, leaning against one another.

Placing, stabilizing, placing another one.

You grabbed a blanket from your bed, some battery powered string lights, and Jason’s pillow, leaving yours untouched on your side of the bed.

You had made a structurally sound fort, with an organized stack of books, lights hung from edge to edge to give the perfect ambience, comfy blankets and Jason’s pillow that smelled like him.

After admiring your creativity and one final inspection, you crawled into the fort, curling yourself in the safe cocoon.

It was warm and you leaned into his pillow, the scent of his shampoo comforting you until your breaths evened, falling asleep to the excitement of telling Jason about your brand new purchase when he got home.

An hour later, a slight rattle came from the window, cautious steps crawling in, but loudly enough to make a sound to alert whoever was inside.

Jason had got home early and he waited for your head to pop out of some corner.

His armor was heavier on his body that night and he had been away way too long. He just wanted to hear your voice happily welcome him back, passionately hug you, and then crash on the bed holding you near him.

Like routine, he was going to unclip his utility belt and peel off his jacket, but he never heard your voice.

Standing frozen, he kept the protective shiny red helmet on his head until he could physically see you.

There was no movement, no noise.

Jason stood still, pressing his boots into the floorboards as he readied himself. While preventing any sound from his movements, he switched on his infrared scanners, sweeping the entire home before he saw a curled up ball.

In the living room, you were protected by a small cushion fort in front of a couch that magically appeared.

You were sound asleep as his hushed footsteps walked closer to you. He had removed his helmet after he ensured you had a steady heartbeat and even breaths.

He placed his helmet outside the blanket door and removed his boots, placing them neatly next to one another.

He wanted to be a respectful guest in your newly built home.

With bare hands, Jason lifted the flimsy door and there you laid, peacefully drifted off.

Jason exhaled, releasing his previous tension with one glance at you.

He always loved coming home to you.

Carefully, he maneuvered himself through the door. With a surprise, he easily fit. He smiled at the thought that you must have built it with him in mind because the door perfectly fit his shoulders. What an attention to detail.

He crawled in, moving his body by his arms until he was parallel with your face.

Unconsciously, you moved to the new warmth, Rolling your body closer to the new presence.

Jason smiled into your scalp, closing his eyes to the weight of you.

“Sweetheart, I’m home.” Jason whispered, vibrations felt against your cheek.

You incoherently mumbled into his body, barely able to open your mouth.

As you felt the comforting arms rubs and strong arms encircling you, your mind started to slowly wake up. The fog clearing.

You freed one of your hands buried underneath the blanket to match the hands enveloping you.

Then your hand felt a familiar bicep, firm in your palm.

Your eyes shot open as you moved your head out of the crevice of Jason’s neck to see your sleepy vigilante laying next to you.

“Feeling me up in your sleep?” Jason tiredly smirked, teasing you as soon as you woke up.

You slowly blinked before fully registering this wasn’t just another pleasant dream.

It was the real deal in front of you.

“Welcome home.” You softly greeted, kissing his knuckles.

Jason’s body physically relaxed at your words, his smirk morphing into content.

His hands were rough and calloused, but the feeling on your lips have never felt better.

“I got a couch.” You smiled into his hand.

“I see that.” Jason glanced around the inside of the fort. “I got ya something while I was out for the week, but I don’t think I could top a couch.”

“It was nicely decorated before, but I got carried away.” You closed your eyes to nuzzle into Jason’s pillow, holding onto Jason’s hand.

He watched you get comfortable, your silent contentment with his touch and warmth. Loving the skin he hated so damn much.

You yawned, the comfortability of your shared lives relaxing you.

Your hair was a mess from the nap, your lashes laid on your skin, and his hands rubbing at any inch of your face, memorizing every detail he could so even his dreams could also have you.

“No, it’s perfect.” Jason watched you, leaning in to kiss your temple, lips lingering a second longer.

You smiled, feeling complete that your other half was home.

“I’m glad.” You slurred, letting sleep inch closer and closer to you.

The two of you lost to the night, your sleeping forms intertwined and Jason’s legs sticking out of the fort.

And a brand new couch that joined your shared life.

[dynamic-defense-solutions]

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[autumnmobile12]

All right, here's the thing about the Todoroki fire-users.

Most forms of glass melt at a temperature of 1,400°C to 1,600° C.

Orange flames have a range of 1100°C to 1200°C.

So unless either of them can exceed the 1400°C threshold and get into the white flame range (1300°C - 1500°C), Shouto and Endeavor cannot melt glass.

But with a blue flame that burns 1,400°C-1,600°C, this bitch sure can.

So now that in the Ambush Simulation AU I've revealed Nine and his entourage are the LoV, imagine the opening scene of Heroes Rising:

Whichever henchmen they've hired to transport the cargo in that car chase scene are careening down the highway, the Pros are in pursuit...and so's the Vanguard.

Car accidents caused by the fleeing villains have put Rock Lock and company out of commission, but Shimura's motorcycle can maneuver through just fine, so he and his passenger are still in the game like it's a Greek chariot race. Nobody really knew the Vanguard was going to make an appearance, nobody knows how they got the info on what was happening, but hey, they're provisionally licensed and can operate under Pros now, so no one's going to complain about the extra manpower on their side.

So my thoughts and prayers are with the poor driver of the armored vehicle whose sole job is to focus on the road. He just wants to survive the night without getting arrested, his comrades can worry about the Pros behind them, he's more concerned about the Pros blockading the road in front of them, one of whom is Endeavor. He's not paying attention to that loud thunk he heard on the roof.

Things are already looking a little sticky...

...and then this crazy bastard appears in the windshield and starts melting the glass. Not breaking it; it's too thick to break without a weapon. Just slowly melting it so the poor guy has enough time to contemplate and regret some key life choices.

(There's a very specific image in my head here and it's the drowned corpse scene from the anime Ghost Hunt if anyone's familiar with that one.)

Anyway, the getaway driver just panics and veers over the guardrail and down the mountainside as it goes in the film, which pretty much leaves Shimura to stop his bike and stare alongside Endeavor down at the path of destroyed vegetation in horror as the sound of screeching metal fades to silence.

Shimura: ....

Endeavor: .... *slowly turns to look at Shimura*

Shimura: *doesn't look up* Hey, don't look at me. You created that monster.

...

And recall that scene ends with Endeavor heading down the hill to investigate the crash and finds Hawks already there:

Touya: What's the situation with my leg? It feels like it's either been broken or impaled.

Hawks: Actually, it's both. That's an...impressive compound fracture.

Touya: All that and I only got a busted leg? *sits up* Oh, no wait, fuck, there's two of you and Endeavor's multiplying.

Endeavor: *fed up* ....scared me to death, you shit for brains. Where's the League?

Hawks: I think they managed to warp out at the last minute. Genius here is the only body I found breathing or otherwise.

Touya: *cackling* Shut the fuck up, Feathers!

...

Shimura: You have got to stop smiling like you regularly devour the souls of small children and their pets.

Touya: *adrenaline wearing off, pain finally setting in* I have no idea what you're talking about.

Rock Lock: *standing over both of them* Exactly what was your plan back there?

Touya: Obviously, I was thinking I could get control of the steering wheel. Not my fault the driver had the nerves of a dandelion. Also, I'm not the one who thought chasing down an armored vehicle with four-door sedans was a good idea, so why I am the only stupid one here? Now everyone be quiet, my head is splitting and I just suffered the indignity of being carried away from an accident by my father.

Endeavor: Carrying you was easier when you were four.

Touya: The last time you carried me is when I was four!

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Kafka Taking Care Of You At A Kaiju Cleanup Sight

Kafka Hibino X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Kaiju gore, blood

Word Count: 1.3k

(A/N:) I have been so dang excited about the Kaiju No. 8 anime! I have read the manga since it came out and when they finally announced it getting an anime adaption, I freaked out. So yesterday was so awesome, I watched it three times! XD So I apologize for the fangirl I'm about to become and hopefully all the other Kaiju No. 8 fangirls can appreciate what I'm about to do! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

You just knew your bosses hated you. It wasn't unusual for companies like Izumo Tech requesting specialists to go out in the field and oversee the kaiju cleanup crews. Only to make certain that they were receiving the best parts of the kaiju to create weapons, armor, and various forms of gear for the brave men and women who take the battles to the front line. But for some unfortunate reason you were the one being constantly sent out to supervise. It had to be done, even though the majority of the cleaning crews did their jobs right, but you'd be out of a job if you didn't go. This time you were to watch and take note of the Monster Sweep Inc. crew. The best of the business and always making sure they sent nothing but the parts Izumo requests. This wasn't the first time you had overseen this crew and you enjoyed being around them. What you didn't enjoy was dodging spurts of blood, or tripping over entrails, or squishing eyeball pieces under your shoes. The Defense Force always left a mess and it was the brave and iron stomached men and women of the cleaners.

Rubbing at your temples, fighting the oncoming headache, while your driver navigated the destroyed streets of the city. Your bag across your knees and the seatbelt strapped tight. You said a small prayer for the poor white shirt you unwittingly wore today. The car squealed to a stop as you couldn't go any further in the vehicle. Giving you a sorrowful smile, your driver let you out before backing out as fast as he could, leaving you alone in front of a giant bloody kaiju mess. Heaving a large sigh, the tainted coppery tang of kaiju blood filling your nostrils, you got to work.

"Hey Kafka," Masahide called to the dark haired male.

Kafka lifted his face shield wiping sweat from his forehead before heading to Toku's direction. Dread settled in the pit of his stomach, sensing he was being dragged into something else. He just hoped it wasn't entrail duty like the other times. But when Kafka saw you standing at Toku's side everything became clear, but it still didn't mean he was dodging entrail duty just yet.

"(Y/N) just got here. She's being assigned to your side since you're closer to the parts Izumo Tech are looking for."

You gave him a small wave, holding your bag tightly and standing as straight as could be. Making yourself as small as possible seemed like the safer option of keeping clean. You and Kafka knew each other pretty well by now as you had been on several scenes with him and the crew. You had become his charge every time you were on scene and it wasn't unusual for you both to go out for drinks and dinner afterwards. Majority of the time the other guys would join but sometimes you both were alone. So in Kafka's care you always felt safe as he tried his best not to splatter you with any kaiju fluids. Majority of cleaners didn't like you around, thinking that you were only here because the company thought they were doing their jobs wrong when it was the complete opposite. So it wasn't unusual for you to get doused in gore in an act of retaliation.

"Welcome back," Kafka said giving you a warm smile.

"Looks like you guys have your work cut out for you this time," you replied.

He sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat, "They keep upping our finish dates every time a kaiju is dispatched. They're really working us to the bone."

"Well if anyone can do it and handle it it's you guys," you offered him what little encouragement you could.

"Thanks." Kafka walked past you leaving you a little confused as he went to the company van. He tugged a large protective jacket from a bag on the floorboard before setting it on your shoulders. You gratefully slipped your arms inside and zipped it up to your chin. It swallowed you but you wouldn't complain.

"Thank you so much!"

Kafka blushed, "Didn't want your pretty shirt to get messed up."

"I didn't know I was coming out into the field until I came to work," you grumbled. "I would have dressed accordingly. Please continue like I'm not even here."

"I couldn't do that even if I tried," Kafka laughed. "Follow me. Some idle chat would do me some good."

Time passed by quickly as you and Kafka fell into easy chatter and before you both knew it lunch break was called. Majority of the time the smells of the dead kaiju killed your appetite but some form of luck came your way as the wind was right. Blowing the majority of the stench in the opposite direction. But still you couldn't do anything more than nibble on a few veggies you had packed in your bento. Kafka noticed you barely eating, so he dug around in his cooler. Tossing you a can, you caught it, barely.

"Ginger ale," he said at your confused glance. "It'll help settle your stomach. I carry them around just in case I'm on entrail duty. I also have some nausea pills somewhere too." He started to pat around in his pockets.

"No that's okay," you hurriedly grabbed his wrist. "This is more than enough thank you."

Sipping at the cold beverage and testing out a few bites of your lunch. You were able to finish most of it, but didn't push your luck as you had a couple more hours of staying on sight. The bark of the tree you leaned against, bit into your back. But you enjoyed the moment of just being able to take it easy. It was a rare thing to get to enjoy the slow pace of life. Between kaiju attacks, rushing around for work, and the fast pace of just life in general; you didn't find many times like this. Kafka, now finished with his lunch, leaned backwards cushioning his head with his hands. He breathed deep relaxing as the sun danced across his skin.

"Want to grab something later together," Kafka asked. His shoulders shaking as his nerves almost made him redact his question. You carefully slid your hand over, tugging at his sleeve, Kafka removed the hand you wanted from behind his head. You clasped his tightly in your grip, threading your fingers together causing him to stiffen. He knew he was sweaty and it only made his hand sweat worse and he didn't know how you felt about that. But you didn't let go.

"I would like that a lot," you replied. This time resting your head on his shoulder. "Thanks for taking care of me Kafka when I come here."

He gulped, "I enjoy it and want to make sure you're safe."

That had always been the thing. Nobody made you feel as safe as Kafka did. Accidents happened all the time at the sights of kaiju clean up and while it was dangerous for everyone involved. With Kafka you felt like at his side was the safest place that existed. Kafka squeezed your hand, closing his eyes and relishing in the touch of you. He would keep you safe no matter what. As he felt it as his duty as a man and friend. That is just who Kafka is deep down in his core. He squeezed your hand tighter resting his head on top of yours. Taking in the moment with you before you both got back to work. Yeah if you were by his side it was the safest place you could possibly be.

[featherwurm]

At some point between Moonrise and Baulder's Gate - the crew stops to clean up a bit, and I have an excessive amount of thoughts about social bathing as it applies to the tadfools:

Baulder’s Gate features several bathhouses (including the landmark location Hissing Stones) and they seem geared to a wide variety of clientele; pragmatic (bathing), personal (social and solicitous), and political (a place of meeting) – it can be assumed that group bathing is a norm in the city at all social strata, although wealthier private residences also undoubtedly feature private bathing arrangements. Gender divides do not seem common in Baulder’s Gate on a whole*, and co-ed bathing could likely be a norm as well.

Individual headcanons below the cut - your mileage may vary, this is pulled roughly out of D&D lore, a few character interactions, thoughts about Roman baths, and my ass;

Tav – From the lower middle class of Baulder’s Gate, she grew up with normal family outings to the bathhouse to clean and socialize. In the monastery, cohabiting with a variety of people, group bathing was also a norm (also just… hanging out on a hot day with your buddies or whatever.) Her order views the body kindly, though not worshipfully, and does not view it as a vehicle of shame. It should be cared for with attention and thought to best use it, and while pleasure is inherent (and unshameful) to human nature it is not fundamentally a part of just being naked. She finds nothing out of the ordinary to toss off your clothes and jump in the river with your buddies.

Karlach – Also from Baulder’s Gate’s lower social strata, she too grew up using bathhouses as a place to get clean, have some fun, and be extremely bored while your parents caught up on the gossip. Similarly, working for Gortash meant the occasional political meeting at the Hissing Stones or other locations (a place you CERTAINLY want to take your bodyguard – although she wouldn’t get to enjoy the bathhouse while working). Living in Avernus for a decade in a militaristic setting has also thrown off her sense of normalcy – if you ever get a chance to clean up there (extremely rarely) you take it whatever the circumstance may be. She’s happy to get naked, get in the water, and get clean whoever the company is. (As little children, both Tav and Karlach had to be actively removed from fountains, the river, and suitably large puddles when they presented the opportunity to be in the water – which both of them love.)

Shadowheart – Sharans and the enclave she is from seem to have some issues with pleasures of the flesh and see them as negative and to be shunned. Life is misery and pain and you better get used to it through daily practice. Given her lack of memory of any childhood normalcy, any time spent around other people in a casual way is long gone. She does not seem to have come out of it with bodily shame herself, but undoubtedly finds the idea of just being comfortable with nudity in a platonic way to be alien. Given that she can’t swim, it adds another layer of discomfort being in the water. It takes her some time to warm up to jumping in the river with the others, but she does come round, although she sticks to the shallows until she learns to swim.

Lae’zel – Githyanki don’t seem to have any shame about bodies, at least given their various styling of armor and clothing. Given their almost eusocial social structure and militaristic culture, it’s unlikely there’s much stigma over the body or that of others. She’s certainly with a peculiar group here, but whatever, you need to get the blood out of your hair eventually – the others are sort of strange-looking to her eye for a while though (Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion seeming like the frail offspring of some small animal with their soft pinkness, Karlach, Tav, and Wyll resembling more of carapaced insects with their ridges and horns.)

Gale – While Waterdeep has it’s spas, these seem more places of relaxation and retreat rather than practical bathing establishments (he does like a nice relaxing treatment – in a robe of course.) Gale has spent so long cooped up in his tower having a weird relationship with the goddess of magic that the idea of just… casually being naked with other mortal people is probably completely off his radar. It is not culturally or personally familiar to him, and feels a little uncouth. He’s going to find a reason to go cook and then clean up by himself later.

Astarion – Speaking of any sense of normalcy having been long gone, his only real use of Baulder’s Gate’s bathhouses has been picking up victims for the last couple centuries (almost always in a sexual context.) Approaching casual bathing with others as any kind of normal is something that will take a reserved approach and a lot of patience as with most things with him. He’s snarky and weird about the whole thing, but it’s to be expected. He later more politely refuses as he works on boundaries and sorts himself out – there’s not enough time in game to sort this shit out. Plus he smells a bit of death no matter what he does – apart from physically getting stuff off his body he’s more reliant on perfume than bathing to feel clean.

Wyll – From Baulder’s Gate and used to playing around wherever he feels like it, it’s not foreign to him to enjoy a bathhouse or river romp (especially in light of various political bargaining happening in the baths) but being from the upper class of Baulder’s Gate he’s not the most casual about it. In his time away from Baulder’s Gate, and being as young as he was, he’s become a little sensitive about it, given his gentlemanly approach developed through his time in the wilds. Still though, it wouldn’t put him off, prior to Mizora’s transformation of him, at which point he’s got body image issues to work through before he’s comfortable again. The tieflings (Karlach and Tav) try to be re-assuring but they come on a little strong about it (hard not to – what he’s viewing as demonic punishment they view as normal for their own bodies – horns and ridges and all.)

Halsin – Look we all know the man likes to be naked and “one with nature”. Bodies are normal and being naked is natural. He’s not caught up on anything, although he might be literally a bear about it if he’s comfortable.

Jahira – Another Baulder’s Gate native who’s used to the city’s amenities. She is much too old and much too traveled to be fussed about who’s around at the evening wash up. She might pretend to be offended or ruffled (or too casual) if she thinks it’s funny – otherwise she’s too busy soaking her joints to care.

Minsc – Minsc is just happy to be here. Are we bonding by bathing together? Ok! But be careful of Boo – he is a delicate creature and gets very angry if he gets soap in his eyes.

Minthara… wasn’t in my playthough, sorry. But I’m certain she’d have the opinion that it’s normal for the ladies to socialize and such while washing but involving the men is bizarre and tasteless.

*Given the normalcy of non-binary, trans, and intersex bodies and identities in BG3, which I personally love.

[goodbuckcharlie]

Dirt and oil - Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn would like to consider himself a gentleman, raised by THE Ellen and all, but when he finds himself in need one the side of the road, he can’t help but be surprised when his Knight in shining armor is a 5’2 girl named Daisy

Note: just a short one today, this was also written fast as I spent my morning at the hospital waiting on my grandma to be okay. She fine now but this helped me not lose my mind. So please give this short fix some love and maybe when everything is better I’ll make a cute part two.

“Shit this is not happening right now.” All Quinn wanted was to go to the grocery store in peace, but of course his front left tire was flat. Now his father has taught him many lessons in life, but changing a tire was not one of them.

As the blinking lights of his hazards went off, Quinn sat on his phone hoping to find a YouTube tutorial on how to change a tire. He was way too embarrassed to call one of his teammates for help. About 15 minutes later, Quinn had learned absolutely nothing off the internet and was currently debating on calling a tow truck.

That was until a school bus yellow jeep pulled up right behind him on the side of the road. Quinn expected another man to exit the vehicle, but to his surprise a short woman with black curly hair and more tattoos than he can count exits the front seat.

“Hey there big guy looks like you can use some help?” The girl walks over to Quinn with her tool box in hand, “my name’s Daisy and I think I can be of assistance, so tell me what’s your problem?”

“Oh I just got a flat tire,” Quickly Quinn turns off his phone and faces the girl next to him, “I don’t want to inconvenience you so I’ll just call the tow truck company.”

“It’s seriously no biggie,” Her button nose cringes from the cold breeze, but her perfect customer service smile doesn’t falter, “I was just heading in to work.”

“Oh then I would hate you to get in trouble with your boss,” Daisy giggles at Quinn comment. The boy nearly lost his mind at the juxtaposition of her soft giggle and her tough outward appearance.

“Oh I doubt my boss would mind, but let me make sure,” Daisy looks into Quinn’s driver side mirror, “Hey Daisy is it okay if I’m late to work cause I’m helping this poor boy is distress? She said it’s fine as long as the poor boy in distress tells me his name, you know for insurance reasons.”

“I totally forgot, I’m Quinn,” Daisy holds out her hand as Quinn introduces himself.

“Well Quinn, let’s change that tire for yah,” Daisy directs Quinn out of his car, and he opts to stand to the side of her as she worked on his tire.

“So if you don’t mind me asking, how did you get into working on cars?” Quinn attempts to make small talk.

“My paps owned the shop up the street and since he was a single parent, I had to spend a lot of time at the shop,” Daisy works on the tire with ease, “I learned how to change a car tire before I could even drive.”

“Woah I’m impressed,” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how bad that sounded, “I mean I’m not impressed that you can do it, I mean I’m impressed that you learned from a young age.”

“It was just another life skill you know,” Not moving her attention from the tire, Daisy continues the conversation with Quinn, “just like learning how to ride a bike. When you grow up around cars, it’s second nature.”

“You know I understand that,” For some reason, Quinn feels comfortable around Daisy, and he can feel himself opening up to her, “I love what I do and all so I have no complaints, but Hockey has become second nature to me since I grew up around it.”

“Hockey huh?” For a moment, Daisy looks towards Quinn, and he can’t put his finger on it, but something about the tiny spot of grease on her face causes him to admire her more, “You look to delicate to play such a violent sport.”

“Looks can be very deceiving,” The two share a laugh before Daisy goes back to working on the car. They make some more small talk until the car is done.

“That spare should hold you for a little, but I recommend stopping by the shop so we can get you a fresh set.” Daisy pats the side of the car like a dad would.

“Thank you so much,” Daisy just shakes her head insisting it was no problem, “Well tell your boss I’m thankful that she let you come to work late to help little ol’ me and if there’s anything I can do to show my appreciation just let me know.”

“Well you didn’t hear this from me, but the boss loves the coffee shop next to the shop,” She walks over to her own car while walking away from Quinn, but before entering she shouts over to him, “maybe when you get your new tires you can ask her to a coffee date?”

Before Quinn could respond, Daisy is already back in her car setting off back onto the road. When Quinn got back into his car he notices a business car on the front seat.

Reynolds’ Autobody shop

7am-5pm Monday through Friday

He flips the card over and a smile is brought to his face.

Daisy Mae Reynolds

(xxx)xxx-xxxx Call me hockey boy

[drunkenskunk]

Been thinking a lot about Lancer lately, in case you can't tell. And a thought has crossed my mind.

The various military powers that exist in the world of Lancer. Union. The Karrakin Baronies. The Aunic Ascendancy. The corpro-states like Harrison or SSC or IPS-N. Even the smaller independent nations in the diaspora outside the control of Union or anyone else. How are all the various armies of these different powers organized, and what are their respective doctrines actually like?

Let me explain.

When you play Lancer, the book makes it VERY clear that what you, the players, are doing when you're in the combat part of the game is... the exception and not the rule. 3 to 5 people in absurdly customized and overpowered mechs is not normal. You are exceptional people, piloting exceptional machines, constantly being thrust into exceptional situations.

So how are the armies of regular mechs organized, and how are they deployed against one another in actual war?

By way of an example: Battletech. When it comes to the armies of the Inner Sphere (at least during the Succession Wars), forces of mechs would typically be organized like:

4 mechs in a Lance

3 Lances in a Company

3 Companies in a Battalion

3 to 5 Battalions in a Regiment

Now, obviously I'm oversimplifying here. There's gonna be some variations, depending on the time period and the Successor State in question, and anything larger than a Regiment has it's own problems... but that tends to be the starting point. Usually. And there's also many different variations when it comes to the organization of things like aerospace assets, armored vehicle elements that are NOT mechs (like tanks and artillery), and infantry units. Because even in a setting dominated by heavy metal, the humble footsoldier has never truly gone away.

But that's just how the Successor States of the Inner Sphere do things. Mostly. The Clans have a very different way of organizing their armies:

A Point is the smallest unit for the Clans, either being a single mech, two aerospace fighters, two armored vehicles, five power armored infantry, or a 25-man platoon of conventional infantry.

5 Points in a Star

2 Stars in a Binary

3 to 5 Binaries in a Cluster

3 to 5 Clusters in a Galaxy

The Clans like thing to be simple and organized, which... can be both a good and a bad thing, depending.

In terms of battlefield doctrine, the way the Successor States wage war is an absolute clusterfuck. Tactics can vary wildly depending on which house you're talking about, and when, but for the most part? They're going to employ some form of combined arms, with mechs spearheading an assault, supported by infantry, armor, artillery, and aerospace assets. The Clans, on the other hand, have a completely different doctrine: their Batchall, or "Battle Challenge."

See, the Clans treat war like a game. It's a sport. It's not (usually) about annihilating the other side; it is (supposed to be) a means of settling disputes in a "civilized" manner. Clan Wolverine would probably have some choice words to say about that description, but that's a topic for another day. See, they want things to be an even fight. A test of skill, rather than a test of who can buy the biggest weapons or field the largest number of troops. For example: if your side has warships, and your opponent does not have warships, then you're expected to bid away your warships and you don't get to use them in that fight.

It is a very fair, but very stupid, way of waging war, and that battlefield doctrine came to bite them in the ass in 3052 when the ComGuard beat the shit out of them at Tukayyid.

... I think I may have drifted slightly off topic.

Right, yes, Lancer, that's what I was talking about.

What got me thinking about this? Well, I was reading through the rulebook earlier; specifically, going through the GM part of the book where it has the list of all the different NPC types and the templates you can apply, and how to build encounters and such. And I was also fucking around in Comp/Con. Doing things like trying to figure out how strong I could make the "squad" NPC using the rules available (is it even possible to make a squad of infantry a threat to mechs?), and trying to see what stats a tank would have, that sort of thing.

And as I was futzing around with all this, I noticed that the way you build encounters reminded me a lot of... well, building a Lance of mechs to fight an opponents Lance of mechs in the tabletop wargame version of Battletech. And then that got me thinking about organizational structures and battlefield doctrine, and...

I suppose the point my autistic ADHD-addled mind is trying laboriously to get to is: would it be possible to modify the rules of Lancer to play it like a tabletop wargame instead of an RPG? Y'know, like...

Well, Battletech, I suppose.

And, y'know, from a lore side of things: what would an army of mechs in Lancer actually look like (beyond the squad of player characters who are special by dint of the narrative), and how would those armies be organized?

[aealzx]

“Uhhhh, we got more company,” Mikey announced unnecessarily, gaping up to try and figure out if this was a friend or foe. It only took only a moment for the smoke to clear enough for them to see green among the black, signifying it wasn’t one of Augustine’s soldiers. After that the first thing Raphael and Don noticed from the newcomer was the purple themed bandana and attire, then an unusual amount of bandaids on his limbs, and the rather familiar bo staff in his hand as his gaze swept the room. The next thing Raphael noticed was the quickly mounting rage behind the yellow eyes that locked onto their huddled group. Raphael had always known his brother Don was a soft soul, and probably couldn’t intimidate anyone to save his life. But his counterpart apparently had just absorbed all the venom, and Raphael felt Don tense beside him when the other Donnie’s gaze met his. A prickle of danger stinging the backs of their necks as the younger figure took in the situation, eyes rapidly flicking from them, to Lil Mikey held close to Raphael, to the blood on Lil Mikey’s arm, and the gauze in Don’s hands.

For a moment Raphael thought they were going to have to do some lightning fast explaining before getting a rage filled brother trying to bash their heads in. But instead a mostly transparent barrier began constructing itself over the huddled group even as the bay doors behind them began creaking open. The sturdy purple shapes reminded Raphael of the back of an armored vehicle, possibly even a tank, and it pulled his gaze for a stretch.

“Help him, or else.” The voice of the second mutant turtle that Raphael and Don had seen in the transmission sounded surprisingly fragile, and came as a hiss, but it still sent shivers unwillingly through Raphael’s form. Definitely Don’s evil twin.

“Oh yeah? And what are you going to do to help?!” Mikey shouted, cutting off in a yelp and ducking low behind the previously felled machine as more mechanoids clomped into the room and sprayed additional bullet fire. The bullets failed to come even close to the group huddled behind Donnie’s barrier though, bouncing off the newly formed shield and clattering against the wall and floor harmlessly.

“Fascinating. It’s like a shield constructed from ballista glass, yet it doesn’t seem to have the exact properties-”

“Don! Focus here,” Raphael snapped. He did not like the way Little Mikey’s movements were getting more erratic and sluggish, half cries of his brother’s name being whimpered.

“Right- Right,” Don twitched back, resuming his task of pressing the clean gauze onto Lil Mikey’s wound.

With Don back on track Raphael’s focus switched to the new Donnie, wanting to check on his physical well being as well as make sure he wasn’t going to get shot as well. There were new mechanoids in the room after all. He’d heard clattering behind him continuously from moments after Donnie had spoken, but he’d thought it was just some different machines than before being sent to kill them.

He was apparently wrong.

“I WARNED YOU AUGUSTINE!!” The younger Donnie’s crackly loud voice was followed by a familiar hiss of missiles that Raphael knew all too well from the spats they’d had with Hun and the Purple Dragons over the years. But even though Raphael braced himself for their barricade to be blasted to bits, the impact never came. Not to his back anyway. The shudder of the floor was dampened by distance, and the secondary familiar noise of a reactive combustion from machines being destroyed greeted his ears instead. Giving another glance to Don to make sure he was still focused, Raphael stole another peek over the barricade and the sight made his eyes widen in mild disbelief. Six more missiles the same hue as the barricade encompassing them constructed themselves in the air before blasting into the mechanoids coming into the room. Along with them various forms of blast canons pieced themselves together and thumped heavily on the ground, firing pulses of lasers into their enemies. And in the center of all the return fire Donnie’s form floated, suspended by whirling turbines jutting from his back.

Okay, the little Mikey had magic chains, and the little Donnie apparently had a magic arsenal. Wonderful. “.... Holy shell…,” Raphael muttered involuntarily, taking a moment to let that fact settle in his mind. This kid was demolishing a military arsenal on his own, with nothing physically on him but a fancy stick and backpack. At least they didn’t have to worry about mechanoids stepping on them. Now they just had to worry about accidental friendly fire. And the hiss of gas spraying from canisters clanging into the room was also a problem.

“More poison,” Raphael hissed, raising his hand to his mouth automatically and looking for the gas mask he’d discarded.

“It looks like the barrier will keep it out, but we can’t let Lil Mikey get exposed to any more of it,” Don responded, hands working fast to wrap a tight bandage around Lil Mikey’s shoulder so they could stabilize him until they got back home.

“Yeah, I think the other Don has that taken care of,” Mikey commented from where he was pressed low against his hiding place, eyes wide and holding the floor like a lifeline. While he was all for making their escape, they were still missing one brother, and he didn’t think they would be getting any words in to Donnie around the explosions. At least the young lad didn’t seem keen on leaving this room.

And at least it didn’t seem like Augustine’s army was endless. After one more barrage of missiles the mechanoids were reduced to smoking heaps on the floor, Donnie’s figure descended to the floor amidst the destruction. The settling silence allowed Mikey to breathe a sigh of relief, and Raphael drew a tense breath as he prepared to talk to the new Donnie. The lad still looked pissed, but also strangely detached from the situation as he landed lightly on his feet and turned to brokenly start walking towards them. What Raphael was going to say was cut off by Don catching sight of a small figure in the clearing smoke.

“Watch out!” Don shouted, having finished giving Lil Mikey first aid and lurching forward to his feet. Donnie’s eyes semi focused on him before he turned to look over his shoulder, a soft click and whir being his only heads up for the oncoming pain. The same mystic nullification energy from the previous machines blanketed the room through a rippling pulse originating from Augustine’s hand as she delicately stepped over the rubble. But this time it seemed the energy was either less refined, or higher in concentration. Donnie let out a strangled yell and flung his hands to his head, barely keeping from crumpling to his knees as his remaining constructs were ripped to particles, while Lil Mikey whimpered and pressed his head into Raphael. Augustine could only watch with barely contained disgust, a blaster gun sliding out from the only undamaged panel in the wall on her command.

“And I warned you to behave yourself,” Augustine almost hissed, anger seething under a maintained exterior.

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Previous Next

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Hey 8'D I actually had this part, and the next one already typed along with the previous one. Just had/have to get drawings.

Also I totally spammed the Ultimate Weapon no. 7 remix of Emil's theme in Nier Replicant while drawing this X'DD

(someoddmix your comments recently have made me laugh so hard and are so motivating. thank you! X'D everyone else who comments regularly make me smile too)

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Demonstration in support of Palestine calls for an end to relations between Brazil and Israel

A protest in Brasilia happened after the government announced the purchase of weapons from Israel

On Tuesday (7), the Palestine Solidarity Committee held a public demonstration in front of the Itamaraty Palace, which houses the Brazilian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, in Brasilia. In addition to denouncing the Israeli offensive that has killed more than 30,000 people, the demonstration also called for an end to the diplomatic and economic relations Brazil still has with Israel.

One of the reasons for the demonstration was the news that the Brazilian army had ordered the purchase of 36 howitzers, armored combat vehicles, from the Israeli company Elbit Systems.

The purchase of howitzers is estimated at around BRL1 billion (over US$193,6 mi). In the bidding process, Elbit Systems was chosen by Brazilian Defense even though there were cheaper options from countries like France, China and Slovakia. The Brazilian Army's decision has sparked criticism from human rights organizations and members of the Brazilian parliament, who question the purchase of weapons from a company involved in what is considered a genocidal process.

“Our taxes should pay for life, not genocide. Our taxes will not finance genocidal states. Our taxes are for clean technology, not genocidal or ecocidal technology. Our taxes should fund competent technology, not cowardly technology,” said the protesters in front of Itamaraty.

Continue reading.

[aeonmagnus]

We have a special treat for Transformers Animated fans this morning. Via their Facebook page, 3rd party company DNA Design has brought to life a concept that sadly never happened back in the day – Powermaster armor for Legacy United Voyager Animated Optimus Prime! This was something that was planned for the original toyline had it continued, and while there had been plans from various 3rd party companies over the years to make it, none had come to fruition – until now, as the DK-54 upgrade kit.

“🌟 Introducing DNA Design’s DK-54 ANIMATED OP UPGRADE KITS! 🌟 🚀 Scheduled Release Date: September 2024 🚀 📅 Pre-order Deadline: May 10, 2024 📅 We are proud to present our latest masterpiece, the DK-54 meticulously crafted by DNA Design. This model brings to life the fire truck imagery from the ANIMATED original art book, making it a stunning addition to any collector’s display cabinet. As gamers, we understand the fear of regret, especially after 16 years, spanning from 2008 to the present day. We spare no effort in striving to meet everyone’s expectations. Regarding the ANIMATED OP, we have set several design directions: 🚨For the ANIMATED OP, we’ve outlined several design directions: 🚨 1.Bringing the fire truck from the animation into three-dimensional form. 2.Allowing the shoulder cannon to transform into handheld dual guns. 3.Converting the ladder into a cannon. 4.Fully integrating the hammer into the vehicle’s model. We aim for this upgrade series to cater to the preferences of all professional collectors, making your collection truly one-of-a-kind! At DNA Design, we’ve innovated a unique weapon storage system to complement this masterpiece, designed to captivate the heart of every collector. Stay tuned for more updates and details on this extraordinary release! Thank you for your support! 🙌”

[carionto]

Geronimo!

Space suits have come a long way - near 1 to 1 articulation and haptic feedback, intuitive zero-g booster based movement, nano-clamps for spiderman-like grip in low/no gravity, and of course dozens of micro layers of protection against all know space radiation and other hazards. Plus a centimeter thick composite armor against sentient threats, with a "cocoon" mode to fully cover all joints and other normally more exposed parts, that renders the Human inside near impervious to most small arms, and even some heavier impacts.

To fully test the limits of protection you don't actually need to have a person inside, just plenty of sensors and a good understanding Human physiology and anatomy. The military, of course, does things a bit differently, as their suits are even tougher. They do have this half-half mode where you are mostly armor, but can still move, but more like the Terminator. Given it also boasts a powered exoskeleton between the armor and hazardous protection layers, soldiers can wield weapons other militaries typically mount on vehicles, so the metaphor is almost just a straight factual comparison.

Some, however, are still not satisfied, and are always seeking to extend the durability of their suits to beyond the extremes.

____________________________

Hilda Lavre was standing on the edge of the ship in low orbit. One hand gripping an outer handle while engaged in final diagnostics.

"Alright, Hilda, everything looks green on our end, how 'bout you?"

"Same green green. I'm good."

"Whenever you're ready then. There's some clouds in the way of the predicted path, might slow you down a bit. Wanna wait?"

"Nah, nah. I'll wing it."

After a seconds pause, Hilda let go of the handle and gently kicked off the side of the ship. She was now on a direct collision course with the Atlantic Ocean.

.

.

.

(Thermals should start going up soon. I'm gonna turn on the external mic just a tad. There's just something about how the heat sounds scraping against the metal.

Oh, there it goes. Yellow, slowly getting to orange. Good.

Yea, that's a nice screech - burn that paint!

Halfway to red, altitude check. Already this close? Guess it'll be just shy of 80% tolerance.

Hehehehe, that means we can go for a bit faster next time. Cool.

Eh... wind without the heat just doesn't sound right, I'll turn it down to just barely audible. Something to keep me company.

Aaaand three.

Two.

One.)

SPLASH

.

.

.

(It's dark. But I guess it was dark before...

before what though?

Well, that's okay.

This feels like a new kind of dark though.

There's the dark when you're alone in your room at night, all the lights are out.

Another kind is when you decide to get inside your brothers closet to scare him when he comes back from the kitchen. That's a fun kind of dark. (it's getting cold)

There's also the dark of being in an underground bunker during a storm. Then the power gets cut and all the exits are sealed. That's a... lonely kind of dark.

One time I was wandering the woods, and before I knew it, it was the middle of a moonless night, overcast too. Hiding out in an abandoned shed, without even the wind or animal sounds to let you know anything is out there. I didn't like that kind of dark at all. (It's really cold)

This dark though... I dunno. It's like I'm hiding out in my own closet. My shoulder is up against my winter jacket, feet are grazing those old sandals I swore to throw out two summers ago. But also, it's not my room. Or even my house. Why am I in my closet? How did it get here? Where even is here?

I feel sleepy.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Hey, hey! Hilda! Wake up!"

*grunting* "Ugh... shut, shut up Barry..."

"Gods, don't freak us out like that. You okay?"

"Depends. How high did it go go?"

*laughter* "Okay, [She's fine everyone] yeah, you're fine. 87 meters, new record."

"Hmm, I was aiming to to break 90."

"Well, those clouds nudged you a little off, you hit it at a 83 degree angle. Still, those other readings are nice. I'm pretty sure we can do a boosted fall next time."

"Yeah, I I think so too. I feel a little little cold, did something break on hit hit?"

"Not break, but the impact did jolt the subsystems a bit. Activated one of the sedative shots. I manually made your suit give you a wake up shot right as I noticed. You should be feeling the effects right about now."

"Mmhhmmm, oh yea. I'm feeling the kick kick now. We need to improve the kinetic tic dampeners. No good if if it puts you to sleep upon any hard enough nough impact."

"Yup. We're suspending any other jumps for the week until we get that fixed and implement some minor tweaks based on your jump once we analyze the telemetry further.

Okay, everyone! Good job today! Let's meet up next weekend and test these bad boys out. Let's aim for a 100 meter splash by the end of the year!"

*cheers and yeahs as Barry opens a mini fridge and everyone cracks open a cold one*

[dynamic-defense-solutions]

Bulletproof Glass for New Armored Toyota Hilux Revo 2023 Model

Bulletproof Glass for New Armored Toyota Hilux Revo 2023 Model

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[boinkingbattlemechs]

King Crab

Designed by Cosara Weaponries in 2741 at the request of General Aleksandr Kerensky for an assault 'Mech that could "cripple or destroy another 'Mech in one salvo," the King Crab is one of the most fearsome BattleMechs to have ever existed. Its primary weapons, super-heavy autocannons mounted in its arms, can strip the armor off of any 'Mech in a few bursts. Its secondary weapons give the slow King Crab the firepower to see off attackers attempting to pick it off at range, and while not sporting the heaviest armor of any assault 'Mech, there are absolutely no weak points to its protection. If there is a drawback to the King Crab, it's the reliance on ammunition for the autocannons, an aspect to consider on extended campaigns with no guarantee of resupply. If it runs out of ammo, most King Crab pilots will withdraw from the field, making it vulnerable to enemy attacks. The only reliable way to destroy a King Crab is with overwhelming numbers of heavy and assault 'Mechs, and casualties will be suffered in the attempt.

While an excellent close-range combatant, the King Crab proved to be less versatile as a command vehicle, a role eventually filled by the Atlas. Later production models eventually had the state-of-the-art communications systems swapped out for common systems more suited for the brawling nature of the King Crab. At the start of the Amaris Civil War in 2767 Cosara's Mars factory was destroyed by Republican forces, although its factory on Northwind managed to escape unscathed. When General Kerensky and the majority of the Star League Defense Force left the Inner Sphere on their Exodus, they brought with them most of the initial production run of King Crabs, including all of the prototype KGC-010 models. The number of remaining King Crabs was further reduced when the Northwind factory was destroyed in 2786, one of the early casualties of the First Succession War. Since the design used few Lostech parts, it was easier to repair than other Star League era 'Mechs. Still, by the end of the Third Succession War a mere handful of King Crabs were still in active service with the Great Houses.

When ComStar initiated the takeover of the Terra system, they were able to repair the King Crab factory on Mars, mothball it, and secretly secure a number of King Crabs in storage. By the dawn of the thirty-first century ComStar contracted Cosara Weaponries to resume production in order to restock their supply, which had begun to degrade with age and was later used to outfit the Com Guards. For the pivotal Battle of Tukayyid the King Crab was among a number of designs upgraded to meet the challenge of the Clans, the so-called "Clanbusters." The success of the KGC-001 model was such that ComStar allowed Cosara to begin general production from their Mars and Northwind factories and sell it on the open market in exchange for a share of the profits.

The Word of Blake brought about a radical shift in King Crab production, first by their own conquest of Terra, then a few years later when they blockaded Northwind, infiltrated and took over the factory in 3069. New variants of the King Crab were now being produced and shipped to the Word of Blake and its Protectorate, forcing ComStar to attempt something unusual for the once-secretive organization. They hired a small mercenary team specialized in corporate espionage and inserted them into the Northwind factory to steal the plans for these new 'Mechs. With the technical information in hand they then went to StarCorps Industries and offered them the chance to begin production of the new KGC-007 models. The company was thrilled at the prospect and accepted, building new King Crabs out of Son Hoa not just for ComStar but the Federated Suns and Lyran Alliance as well.

The King Crab's primary weapons are two massive Deathgiver Autocannon/20s, among the most powerful BattleMech weapons ever created. Each arm carries one of these massive weapons, and they are fed by two tons of ammo split between the side torsos. The firepower of these weapons is enough to destroy a medium 'Mech in one salvo. To protect the autocannons in combat, engineers designed the King Crab with simple hand actuators. In appearance and movement, the actuators are very similar to pincers or claws found on real crabs, a contributing factor to the 'Mech's name. To back up the autocannons, and provide some long-range capabilities, the King Crab carries a Simpson-15 LRM-15 launcher, mounted in the left torso and fed by one ton of reloads in the same location, and an Exostar Large Laser in the right torso. While not the most heavily armored 'Mech, the King Crab is still tough to crack, with sixteen tons of ferro-fibrous armor and CASE protecting its ammunition stores; however, the arms are probably the most susceptible area to receive damage and an internal hit is likely to knock an autocannon out of the fight. The 'Mech is also slow, with a cruising speed of 32 km/h and top speed of 54 km/h, and has been described as a "notorious hangar queen".