#helicopter drills

[hyunpic]

hyunjin on instagram

[naurasweetarudesu]

Handel smoking doodle

Someone give this man brown contacts pls

"It is not easy to love one self...

However, I promise...

I'll ease up as I should..."

[holytriumphnightmare]

synchronized to "the tele".

"Σαν να είναι συνδεδεμένη με το ηλεκτρικό ρεύμα" (About Chionoula, a four-leg dog, Kallithea, Athens, Greece, 2019-2021)

30-5-2024: - "I have my curiosity. What is Little Nellie"? Tiger Tanaka (Tetsurô Tanba)- "Oh, she's a wonderful girl. Very small. Quite fast. Can do anything. Just your type

" James Bond (Sean Connery)

- "A toy helicopter"? Tiger Tanaka (Tetsurô Tanba)- "

No, it's certainly not a toy. You'll see. We've made one or two improvements. 

I'll give you the drill" 'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn)- "This can only be for children. Don't use it, Bond-san. Take my helicopter instead" 

Tiger Tanaka (Tetsurô Tanba)- "Right. Now, pay attention. - Two machine guns, fixed" 

'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn)- "Synchronized to what"? 

James Bond (Sean Connery)- "100 yards. We're using incinerators and high explosives. Two rocket launchers. Forward firing on either side" 

'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn)- "Fine" 

James Bond (Sean Connery)- "Now, these fire heat-seeking air-to-air missiles. Sixty a minute" 

'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn)- "Good" 

James Bond (Sean Connery)- "Flame guns, two of them, firing astern" 'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn) - "What range"? 

James Bond (Sean Connery)- "

Eighty yards. Two smoke ejectors next door to them. Aerial mines. Now, remember. Use them only when directly above target. That's about the lot, I think. You know the rest, don't you"? 'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn)

- "Yes" James Bond (Sean Connery)- "

Cine-camera" 'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn) in "You only live twice" (1967), a film by Lewis Gilbert 

[grovylethegreat]

[icterid-rubus]

I walked my dog on the beach and watched the eagles use the updraft from the dunes to drift along the water. One stopped directly over head and started coming in real close, which I thought was super neat until I remembered eagles sometimes snatch up small pets. Picked up Iggy and it flew away.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Reign down on me - Part 4

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt

-🐺-

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, mutt?”

Your breaths were coming in hard pants, your body was worn to shreds. It took everything in you to look up at the angry face above, and when you finally mustered enough strength to tilt your head, you were met with deeply disapproving eyes. For once they didn’t rattle you, you’d already seen something so much worse. 

“She’s dead,” you murmured, looking back down at the empty eyed body across from you. 

“And you’re about to be too if you don’t get yourself together, stupid dog!”

You’d been yanked up and forced to keep running, shoved out in front of corners and into oncoming fire. It was a miracle you hadn’t joined your old teammate on the floor - not that you really saw it that way. You drew the enemy’s fire and allowed your current handler to get to exfil unharmed, you in your sorry hollow state had been shot in the chest, or the vest rather. Either way you were terribly struggling to breathe when you were eventually lugged along into the helicopter. 

It was difficult to remember much in the days after that. Your memory was a blurry haze, tugged along and shoved into transport and various different rooms until you were abandoned in an infirmary to heal. 

The main thing you remember is how the tiger girl you’d been fighting alongside had fallen, and no one else had batted an eye. She had been one of the best hybrids you’d worked with, someone the soldiers had clamoured to get onto your team, and none of them gave a shit when she’d died. The same girl that had so earnestly been teaching you and given you valuable advice for the field was no more than a few hazily remembered lessons and an empty vessel. 

The thought burned in your mind when you’d laid on the hospital bed, keeping your eyes narrowed to tiny slits and your tail twitching as you recovered. You’d been too young to actually be assigned to a combat mission, but you’d been sent along with the unit that day because they thought they were doing a routine water run to a nearby village and they’d wanted you to observe.

Now you were marred with your first battle scar and laden with the knowledge that it didn’t matter how good you did - you’d be nothing more than a pile of bones left behind to rot. 

-

“Move along, mutt!”

Maddox loomed over you and smacked you with his club, sending you sprawling as you refused to run his training drill. You’d since recovered and been cleared for work once more, but that was just what the doctors said. You had a different opinion entirely. 

“I’m not doing this,” you said quietly, hefting yourself back up to a standing position. 

“What?” Maddox’s voice came through in a chilling growl.

The sounds of the rest of the hybrid’s running the training exercise he’d set echoed all around you. You watched them scrambling around, flying through the course like clay pigeons, and blinked slowly. They were all just training to be better canon fodder. What was the point? You were all going to meet the same end, whether you died honourably fighting or were shot down into a pink mist from where you stood, no matter how good any of you were it wouldn’t matter. You’d all just die anyway. 

“You heard me,” you growled, puppy voice still too young to actually have much of an impact. 

Maddox wasn’t used to being defied. From day one you’d all tried to do what you could to appease him, had run around trying to make sure you weren’t drawing his ire. None of you liked his horrible booming voice when he scrambled at you, you were all afraid of his club and being at the receiving end of one of his thrashings. What was the point? 

He looked incensed, he was the most angry you’d ever seen him. He smacked you a few more times, landing heavy blows onto your back, thighs and butt, but you weren’t anymore motivated to get going. Instead you lay uselessly on the ground and cried out, ears drawing back as you prepared for his worst. 

“Get the fuck up! Do as you’re told, dog, no exceptions. Now move!”

You whined, but stayed where you were. Even while your back was on fire, even while he still beat dents into you, you didn’t feel anymore convinced to go along with any of it anymore. You just wanted to give up. To stop having to live through the pain, and just accept that it would be all there was. 

In the back of your mind you registered that everyone had stopped running, could feel the ground stop rumbling with their desperate footsteps and had all stopped to watch the spectacle. Though you didn’t really think much about it. 

It took a few more blows, but eventually Maddox seemed to recognise that you were quite happy for him to mash you into a fine pulp. His lesson wasn’t having any effect. So he left you on the ground and walked away a few paces, his shadow falling over your face and draping you with the weight of it. 

You choked out a sob and watched as he addressed the room. His words weren’t immediately intelligible to you, you were too lost in your brain fog still. Everything was dull, and noises were like far away recordings playing on scratchy speakers. Your head was a swelling water balloon fit to burst. 

“-see what happens when you decide you’re not going to do what your commanding officer tells you.”

Thwack.

You heard the sound, but you didn’t feel anything. You tilted your head, ears twitching confusedly as you tried to work out why the pain didn’t reach you. The sound of the wailing banshee scream following soon after clued you into why your bones weren’t rattling with anymore pain. 

“Please, sir! Please!”

It was like a plastic sheet had been melted from your eyes. The white hot screech of the voice burned through you and you scrambled up with a shock, watching on with horror as one of your fellow hybrids was getting whacked like nothing else. A wheezing breath gushed in through your lungs and you screamed in unison with the poor boy, begging Maddox to please stop. 

“Oh now you’re willing to plead for forgiveness? Now you’re ready to participate again? Watch and let this be a lesson - You don’t decide when you’re done! You do as you’re fucking told!”

“No! Please, no! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Sir. Please, please ple-”

-🐺-

“Hey, Pup, hey, shhh. Wake up, Pup.”

You felt raw, throat vibrating with the last of your unconscious screams, your mind raced as you struggled to register your surroundings. Soft lamplight bathed the room in a warm, hazy glow, and all around you were rumpled blankets, all thrown around the place in splatters of blue as if a tower of paint cans had exploded. Most startling of all though, was the behemoth of a man right in front of you; sitting on your bed and looking down at you with a worried expression. 

You backed away to the wall when you finally noticed him, panting and growling like hell when you searched through your bleary mind and couldn’t recognise him. His eyes were like molten gems, his long face and pouting lips drawn into a picture of concern. There was something almost familiar about him, if you squinted and ignored the shock of blonde hair that gently curled on top of his head (something told you that you weren’t used to seeing that). The only thing that stopped you from jumping him immediately was the calming scent of citrus peels. 

“Who the fuck are you?” you growled, curling your hands into fists. “What do you want with me?”

The man blinked slowly, his eyebrows raising from the gentle frown he’d been wearing and twitching up into surprise. He smiled uneasily then, the look seeming foreign on that big scarred up face, one of the scars at his lips puckered with the effort it took to move over the muscle. 

“Shit, sorry. It’s me, it’s Ghost,” the man sighed, his accent washing over you like a warm wave. “Forgot my mask.”

You gasped, feeling all your muscles release their tension at once as you slid down the wall and into a weary slump. It was ok. He wasn’t some horrible soldier come to drag you away to a new mission, or an enemy looking to startle you before they bagged a kill. It was just Ghost, and Ghost was safe. And Ghost looked… well you were too tired to really get a solid grip on what you thought of how Ghost looked.  

“What are you doing in here?” you asked, only speaking when you were confident you wouldn’t stutter. 

“You were screamin’, Pup. You looked like you were fighting off possession or somethin’, that must’ve been some bad dream you were having,” Ghost said softly, gently running a hand over the top of your dewy head. 

You gritted your teeth and used the butt of your palms to wipe the stray tears from your cheeks, still feeling your throat burn from all the shrieking. It had been a long time since you’d had one of those dreams, or rather memories, but you knew well enough you’d have been loud. You realised you’d probably woken him if he was coming to you bare faced. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, tail tucking between your legs in realisation.

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, bringing his hand down to stroke over your cheek. “I’ve woken up with plenty of those myself.”

“But you…you’ve shown your face to me when you didn’t mean to. I’m sorry,” you sighed, looking away guiltily. 

Your toes curled and your body froze up, your instincts gone haywire as you tried to process what was happening. Was he going to punish you now? Would he beat you until you forgot what he looked like? You shuddered at the thought of your dreams piercing through into reality. 

“No, don’t be sorry, darlin’. I’d have taken it off for you sooner or later anyway,” he shrugged. 

You bit your lip, unconvinced that this was the case. Given that his team didn’t think much of the mask, it was clear that he wore it often. He probably didn’t like to be bare faced around other people. Maybe he wanted to keep his face a secret. 

“Didn’t think it’d effect you this much,” he chuckled, chucking you under your chin. “I did warn you.”

“You warned me?”

“Mhmm. Told you I was bloody handsome.”

Nothing could help the snort that burst from your nose. That then descended into full blown laughter, your body lightening from the growing load that your mind posed. You wrapped your hands round your knees, in an attempt to contain the giggles, and only stopped when you saw the gentle smile that sprouted back onto Ghost’s lips. 

“There you go. Better now, huh?”

You nodded slowly and smiled back at him. For some reason mirroring him felt like the easiest thing in the world. It was like a warm glow had burst from him to you, softening your sharp thoughts and turning your body to jelly. You’d be able to sleep again as if nothing had woken you, usually you would stay up until light broke through your curtains. 

“You wanna talk about anything before I get back to my beauty rest?”

“No, I’m good,” you said hurriedly, not wanting to relive everything you’d dreamed again. 

“Alright then…You get back to sleep, you’ve got another big day ahead. Try not to scare the piss out of me again for another few hours at least,” He sighed. 

You nodded, scooting back over so that you could lie back at the head of your bed. However before you could angle yourself down, Ghost drew you into a side hug. At first you resisted it, curled your hands around his arm so that you could stop whatever harm might come your way, but when there was none. Your eyes grew heavier as he held you, his body heat seeped down into your bones and it tempted you ever deeper into the restful darkness.

You let your hands drop and nuzzled into him. There wasn’t anything to fear. 

“S’my good, Pup,” Ghost mumbled, releasing you seconds later. 

You sank into bed afterwards, falling into a deep sleep as if a switch had been flicked. There were no more disturbances after that. 

-🐺-

“Not so hard, Steamin’ Jesus!”

Soap’s whizzed right past your ears like a bullet, you were too focused on getting to the target point. Paintballs splattered overhead, loud noises rang out from the speakers that’d been set up, and your heart was racing. Everything perfectly combined to drive you wild and send all coherent thought elsewhere. The only reason you stayed put behind your current cover was because you knew Ghost was watching - because of some foreign underlying need to make him proud. 

“Johnny, you have to take control.”

“I’m fuckin’ tryin’! Your bloody sled dog has other ideas,” Soap huffed, growling down the line. 

Ghost’s chuckle rattled around the comms like a swarm of bats. The ever present hand on the front of your neck dug into your collarbone a little, but still you persisted and pushed forward through the resistance. Soap had no idea what he was doing, had no idea how to control your advancement through the fake field. 

“Sled dog tendencies aside, you’re not holding em’ right,” Ghost chastised. “Stop the exercise!”

The splat of the last paintball echoed dully around the room and all at once your more human senses returned. The sharp fuzz in your ears dissipated and the blurring at the edge of your peripheries came staggeringly back into focus. You almost sent Soap crashing when you stopped fighting his hold, though luckily for him he swivelled just in time to keep his feet on solid ground. 

“Fuckin’ here we go,” Soap muttered, releasing your collar. 

You frowned up at him in question, but you didn’t get an opportunity to wonder what he was so pissed about. Ghost jumped into the little arena he’d created and crossed the floor, patting your vest before he took a hold of you himself.

“You’re holdin’ Pup round the front like this,” Ghost said, sliding his hand around your collar to illustrate his point. “You’re just choking them and driving them forward to get away from ya’ or get to the checkpoint.”

“Because your precious little Angel keep’s growlin’ and turnin round when I hold the collar round the back like you do. I feel like I’m about to get my face rearranged again!”

Ghost sighed and put his hand on Soap’s arm, driving the other man to give a cursory glance down at you before fixing a hard look on the Lieutenant. There was no mistaking the sharp little shake of his head he gave, no matter how much he had tried to hide it. Ghost put his hand down, holding it up in mock surrender before it fell completely. 

“It’s because you’re holding on too tight, Johnny,” Ghost explained, his voice growing softer. “You don’t have to. Pup won’t hurt you.” 

“You sure about that?”

“Johnny,” Ghost growled. “Don’t say anything stupid, now.”

You looked up, alarmed at the tone Ghost was taking. You didn’t really blame Soap, or anyone else, for being afraid of you. A lot of people were - anyone who knew your reputation at least, and from that little comment you surmised that Soap was well aware of it. Though from the way Ghost was acting, it was as if Soap had told him he was going to shoot you. His eyes were stuck in a stormy glare and his full height was rigidly stretching up over the Sergeant. 

“You know this is difficult for me,” Soap said, jaw as taught as a piano wire. 

“I know…” Ghost sighed. “But it’ll only be harder if you keep going like this, learning to control a wolf the wrong way will only get you both hurt. You’ve gotta dig deep here, push past the bad memories. This one’ll never hurt you like that.”

“So you keep saying,” Soap grumbled. “Why don’t you try tellin’ them to fuckin’ behave when they’re being handled rather’n having a go at me.”

A creeping feeling of shame crept through your mind, suddenly you felt like a very small child in the middle of a fight between your parents. The tiny little voice you hadn’t heard in so long chimed just as true as it did then, They’re fighting about me again. Your ears folded back straight against your head and you leaned closer into Ghost, accidentally catching eyes with Soap as he registered your movement. 

Soap’s eyes softened. 

“It’s not that simple. I have a plan in the works though,” Ghost said carefully, shifting his gaze to you as he felt you press against him, and then back at Soap. “It’s gonna take a bit to undo years of shit training, yeah? I told you how it’d be before, those shitheads at Branhaven always train up hybrids to look as showy as possible for their superiors. That means they pull like crazy and bark and growl up a riot while they work because it looks effective and scary to the knobheads who don’t need to handle them. I need you all to learn how to handle Pup as they are now before I’ve worked with them, and then you’ll be prepared for anything…’sides, its always you n me together, Johnny, remember? Realistically you’re not gonna have to actually handle them on the field, you just need to be prepared to.”

The ‘Just in case’ that eluded his last sentence was silent.

The whole time you couldn’t help dwelling on the fact that Ghost was unusually…tender for a man in charge over the Sergeant. Normally when people bitched at the higher ups in your base they’d be shouted at and told to man up or fuck off. Ghost was actually explaining himself to Soap, trying to rationalise what he was doing as if he somehow owed it to him. He treated Soap like he treated you, ensuring he was able to calm down and trying to fill him in so he could take comfort in knowing what was happening. 

The treatment seemed to work just as well on Soap as it did you. He huffed out a defeated breath and relaxed, looking from you to Ghost while the irate cloud above him dispersed and became lost in the gentle atmosphere. 

“Fine. Can you show me what to do again?”

“Atta boy,” Ghost said, grin evident in his voice. “Hand here, and legs nice and stable. You need to keep moving forward at a nice even pace, you have to set the right speed. Soon as Pup tries to push on ahead, you grip the back of their neck like that.”

You growled as you felt Ghost put pressure on your scruff, instinctively feeling the work drive build up within you. He just shook his head and gave you an unamused stare for your efforts. 

“The growling’s all just noise. Stupid noise,” Ghost said, intentionally setting his eyes on you, “but there’s no intention of threat behind it - not while we’re in charge.”

“What do you mean ‘not while we’re in charge’?” Soap asked, making a face. 

“Pup won’t have any reason to hurt us. We’re not gonna go yanking tails and hitting like fuckin’ children when we don’t get our way.”

“Wh- y’mean that was a commanding officer that did that?” Soap asked, motioning to your crooked tail. 

“Like I said - shit training. C’mon, take the collar.”

Soap didn’t quite look like he’d recovered from the shock of being told about your tail. He gingerly reached out and took your collar with a frown set heavily into his face. You wondered if it was because he really pitied you that much, or if it was because he thought you might take out your anger on him. You leaned more toward the latter reasoning. Despite his reservations though, he was able to do as Ghost asked this time. 

“Good, that’s it, Johnny.” 

Soap visibly puffed up from the praise. His grip on you tightened. He was more sure of himself now, he marched ahead and set you into an even pace, the rhythm catching onto your feet contagiously. Naturally there were still a few moments where you wanted to pull forward and rush through, but now that Soap was placing his trust in Ghost’s intuition, you were gently guided into keeping within his step. 

“Good Pup, keep it up!”

Soap didn’t immediately latch onto what Ghost had told him about your growling, he still wrenched himself back a few times after correcting you. The horrible tractor-like sound would comically twist his features. However this time, he was actually able to get to the checkpoint with you. Then after a few more trials, you were both flying down the course, high on Ghost’s praises and untouched by any paintball that tried to come your way. 

After the fourth time he called for a break, roughly crossing his hands into a T shape while he doubled over and panted and puffed for air. His signature sage scent wafted strongly from him now, invading your senses and forcing you back a step or two.

A discreet smile stole its way onto your face, a smug one if you were honest. There was a steady tension starting to warm in your legs, but you were no where near over extension. Apparently all the breakfast and rest you’d gotten had done you wonders, because you felt like you could keep going all day and all night, maybe longer than that. It made you wonder if maybe Price and Ghost didn’t have a point to all the nice things they were doing for you afterall. 

“You did well, Soap,” Ghost chuckled, wandering back onto the course with a swagger to his step. “You too, Pup. Reckon you’ll be nice and warmed up for Price and Garrick now.”

“Christ, Pup’s gonna do this two more times?” Soap asked, looking over at you in wonder. 

“Mhmm,” Ghost hummed.

“You not tired?” Soap asked, directing his question toward you.. 

You laughed at that, unsure as to why he’d be so shocked you were going to keep going. Normally you’d spend your whole days training when you weren’t on an active mission. Running and sparring were practically all you knew. If you were to tire out early, you’d be punished for it, blamed for not getting enough sleep or not eating your shitty MREs. Stopping wasn’t in the equation. 

“I can go all day,” you shrugged.

“Christ, and they tell me I’m hyperactive.”

-🐺-

Overall impressed with your performance that day, Ghost had insisted on dragging you out to a shopping villiage, or as you now thought of it - a torture desensitisation arena. Even later on at night, there were so many people around: screaming children that were moaning about being tired and hungry, teenagers laughing like hyenas, couples arguing over what they should and shouldn’t spend their money on. It didn’t help that there were so many busy shop fronts as well, colours and flashing lights and products you wouldn’t even know what to do with. It was a circus of too many stimuli and you were stuck at it’s roaring centre, sticking to Ghost like a fly on tape. 

As soon as he’d parked up you’d demanded to know why he’d brought you there, not able to help the rising panic at being taken somewhere new. He’d explained that it was time to buy you some much needed casual clothes. Personal items. At the mention of that dreaded subject, you’d tried to protest and remind him about getting your brand new stack of clothes from the quartermaster, but Ghost had just snorted and said that he wasn’t taking you everywhere in your uniform. He didn’t care for the looks it would get him - said the man wearing a black medical skull mask over his face.

Undeterred by your saying that he didn't need to waste money on you, Ghost all but yanked you into all clothes shops, leading you by the hand and forcing you to pick casual clothes that you liked from the small selection the hybrid sections offered. It was an exercise made to humiliate, you’d thought, you had no idea how to pick clothes for yourself that weren’t standard issue - had no idea what colours and materials and fits went together with what. He’d made you pick what felt good in the end, said that Soap had told him the important thing was picking something comfortable - it didn’t narrow your search by very much.

Propelled by the thought of getting to leave if you just compiled, you eventually settled on some blue vans trainers, a cosy pullover hoodie, two new pyjama sets, a couple of pairs of jeans and a few T-shirts that weren’t too adventurous - save for the one that had some illustrated plants on it. Even that little amount felt like far too much, overwhelming you with how much choice you’d have when your promised downtime would come. Though every time you asked if you’d picked enough, Ghost would just fix you with a stony look that told you to keep going. 

Then as if that wasn’t enough, he took you over to a bookshop as well, claiming you needed something to entertain yourself with in your downtime. Even when you told him you’d managed alright up till that point. However, when you were left to explore so that Ghost could go pick something for himself, it wasn’t the books there that you were most taken by. 

“What’ve you got there then?”

You froze, shoulders bunching as you heard Ghost’s voice softly break your awed silence and looked guiltily down at the little puppy teddy you were holding. You weren’t supposed to be looking at that- that’s what you figured when you saw his shadow cross your path. A picture of his sneering face crossed your mind’s eye, darkened by that unruly blonde fringe of his. 

What were you supposed to say to him? After blankly looking at a few of the books, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over to the little displays of plushies, and had slowly gravitated toward it when you saw the little dog that was now in your hands. 

The dog’s fur was so unbelievably soft and its little spotted face reminded you of one of your favourite cartoons from when you were small. It called out to you and lured you in with the reminder of some old theme song that played in your head, made you pick it up and stroke its squishy black and white tummy with a smile plastered all over your face. 

“I got distracted, sorry,” you murmured, gently placing it amongst its spotted siblings. 

Ghost came round to your side and picked up the same puppy you’d been holding. You tilted your head in surprise and watched as he did the same as you, stroking the soft tummy while inspecting it. It looked comically smaller in his hands though, like a newborn pup. 

“You want him?”

Your ears perked in surprise when he spoke. Finally you chanced a look up at him and felt your cheeks warm when you made eye contact, thoroughly embarrassed that you’d been caught. Though he didn’t look judgemental like you’d thought he would, instead he just stared at you earnestly over his black medical mask and gave you a chance to speak. 

“I…um...” you weren’t sure what to say. 

Of course you wanted him. Every little instinct in you wanted to take the toy and hold it and cuddle it and never let go. However that wasn’t the kind of behaviour befitting of a military class hybrid like you, and it was the kind of thing you’d have been endlessly mocked, if not punished for before. 

Soldiers don’t cuddle their teddy bears and blankets, they make their beds quickly and efficiently and don’t concern themselves with such stupid frivolities!

“It’s not a trick question, Pup. No wrong answer,” Ghost supplied, holding the puppy out to you encouragingly. 

You breathed out a sigh, but your chest didn’t feel any less heavy. Even if it was such a silly decision to make, it still felt like such a big undertaking. If you said yes and took it, would Ghost think less of you? You already thought less of you for wanting it. You were already filled with judgement, the voices of all the superiors that had ever disciplined you mocking you in one big evil choir. 

Stupid little baby wolf. 

You whined, but even despite yourself, you took it and held it to your chest. 

“Hey, you deserve to have things of your own, that’s what tonight’s all about,” Ghost said, gently setting his hand on your shoulder as he did so. “You deserve to exist outside of the military, to be more than a war dog. If this makes you happy, then we should get ‘im.”

You wanted to keel over then as you rolled your eyes, let your whole body collapse with the motion. This dog at least was a simple decision in terms of what you liked, much easier than when you’d been standing in front of all those dreaded clothes racks, but it didn’t make finalising it any easier. Not when your feelings were colliding like waves against a harbour wall, one side seemingly solid while the other corroded it.

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“I’m not supposed to want things like this,” you mumbled, holding the teddy out in front of yourself again like it was some kind of alien object. 

“Why not?” he chuckled.

“Because it’s for children,” you said dryly.

“It’s not for children,” he scoffed. “There’s no rules on who gets to buy cuddly toys. Anyway, you clearly want the little fella, so we’re getting him.”

You frowned, looking confusedly down at the dog again. 

“But It’s a distraction…All of this stuff is,” you uttered, feeling Maddox’s voice speak through you like a spell had been cast. “It’ll take my mind off important things and get everyone hurt.”

You thought back to the kid in the bunk next to you, the one that had cried on the first day because they couldn’t have their teddy bear to sleep with. Maddox had lectured you all then and there, almost shouting the fur off your ears, saying that hybrid soldiers couldn’t let anything get in the way of them functioning. Needing a teddy bear to sleep wouldn’t fly when you were overseas and catching bullets because you were sleep deprived, reading books to escape your miserable new lives would get you killed when your heads were still stuck in them, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. 

“You don’t think we all need distractions sometimes?” Ghost asked. “Distractions make life worth living, and you’re no less deserving of that than anyone on the team. Don’t you think?”

You didn’t have an answer for that. In fact, you were arguing a point that wasn’t even yours. So, in response, you shrugged and traced one of the puppy’s patches.

“I think you care about me like…a weird amount,” you mumbled. 

“A weird amount?” Ghost scoffed, hiding a crinkly eyed smile behind his mask. “Why’s it weird to care about you, huh?” 

You shrugged again. 

“Ok, listen. You’ve been all twisted up by those idiots at your last base and I want you to know that I’m not gonna legitimise a single thing that they’ve taught you. This is what it’s going to be like now, this is what you get for coming in everyday and working your arse off. The fact that you’ve been given no compensation and been run so badly into the ground by those cretins is nothing short of appalling. Believe me when I tell you that I know it’s not as simple as flicking a switch and getting used to good treatment - it won’t happen just because I tell you it’s all over now and I understand that. Just…let me give you a little bit of comfort, yeah? Just to show you how things should be. Just enjoy a distraction or two and see that it won’t be life ending, and it’s not gonna get taken away from you. I promise you’ll be fine” 

Your throat was too thick with emotion to answer. So instead of making a fool out of yourself you nodded your assent and looked down at your new prize with wonder. How long had it been since you’d owned something that didn’t have any function or use on the battlefield? How long since you’d held something so soft?

“Now…did you actually look at any books or did you just stand and bully yourself for wanting something nice?”

You jumped when Ghost’s grizzled voice sounded out and brought your mind back to task, shaking your head of all your musings. Choosing books - right. All at once, the multicoloured aisles came back to view and all the people in them, the room filled out around you and made you hold your puppy down low at your side and out of view.

“Yeah, I um- I think I found something cool.”

-🐺-

That night Ghost let you stay up in bed for a little bit to read. Leaving you nestled in your swarm of blankets sitting side by side with your new friend as the plush sat up against the pillows with you. Your eyes poured over the artwork of your new graphic novels in wonder, admiring the bold colours and thick lines, turning the glossy pages ever so slowly as if your heart would stop beating when you got to the end of the book. 

When you ended the first chapter you smiled down at the little dog rather childishly and bit your lip. It was silly to name inanimate objects, it didn’t take someone standing over you and shouting at you to know that, though you couldn’t help it when the name seemed to cling to him with an unshakable grip. Simon. You’d name him Simon after the main character in the story. It seemed to suit the little black and white dog just as much as it did the hybrid boy, and now there was no changing it - unfortunately for you. 

[todays-xkcd]

If you find an ash deposition layer from a year in which an eruption destroyed an island that had Camellia sinensis growing on it, you can make a Gone Island Ice_τ.

Ice Core [Explained]

Transcript Under the Cut

[Knit Cap and Megan both wearing knit caps and scarves in a snowy environment taking a look at an ice drill. There is a helicopter on the ground in the background, with their footprints between them and the helicopter. Knit Cap is holding a small container between her hands while Megan is holding the middle of the drill.] Megan: Next, we'll identify the ice core layer matching your birth year. Do you have the shaker ready?

[Caption below the panel:] Making the traditional paleoclimatologist cocktail

[b1rds3ye]

Task Force 141 but it's Battlefield's Bad Company - a unit of disgraced soldiers who are valued no higher than cannon fodder but who are also too skilled to simply get the boot. Despite being thrown at the most devastating threats, they are low on resources and lack respect from the rest of the military. No one bothers learning their names, they're not expected to last more than a week. But a small unit of them always manage to pull through.

Captain John Price says he only took up Bad Company because he was given an offer of early retirement if he survived leading the dredges of the military. In truth, he's gone off the books one too many times, his last mission had him temporarily A.W.O.L. as he pursued what he believed was right. If the military can't silence him with retirement, they'll silence him with Bad Company where they'll throw every mission under the sun at him until he inevitably falls. He doesn't comment on how his last official mission went, but if you ever bring up General Shepherd he says he has a special bullet reserved for that bastard.

No one knows exactly why Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley got into Bad Company, he doesn't say. In fact, no one knows shit about him. All anyone knows is that he's a damn good soldier, the longest lasting in Bad Company - he transferred even earlier than Price. Simon says he willingly transferred here because he thrives with the freedom and informality compared to the standard military and no one dares comment on how utterly unhinged that sounds. Still, his personality seems to fit the story; he's not afraid to go off the beaten path to reach the mission objective which seems to have taken out everyone but him.

Sergeant Johnny "Soap" MacTavish is just a menace, but a crafty one which is a problem for the military. He enjoys being demolitions expert and one day got too bored and a little too curious. Destroying physical objects would be too obvious but he may or may not have infected the military system with a virus to see what sort of information he could extract. He learnt the hard and very expensive way that he has a knack for hacking. Perhaps that's why they transferred him to Bad Company, with trash-quality guns, outdated tech and precisely negative ammo, there's not much destruction he can wreak. Well, that was likely the thought process but Johnny's always loved a challenge.

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick was framed - he presumes. He excels in all the drills, his performance is promising, he follows all the orders, and yet he's here. What he doesn't know is that he doesn't have the personality superiors desire. He questions too much, he's far too open minded, he can't be molded like other soldiers. He's stubborn - they transferred him because he filed one too many complaints of inefficient directives that could be boiled down into polite military speak of "screw you and your orders, I have a better way (P.S. may your tea always be lukewarm)". He's annoyed the big bad men at the round-table and now he's paying the price. Fortunately, those are the traits that thrive in Bad Company and the exact traits that prompted Price to take him under his wing.

And that just leaves you, the newest member on the brink of promotion to sergeant until you were transferred into Bad Company. You're jittery, you've heard of the nightmare that is Bad Company, how it contains the worst of the worst (and yes you are aware that it apparently includes you now). When you step off the helicopter, you repeat your simple goal - to survive this one mission with Bad Company so that you can go back to your squadron and get your damn promotion.

But as the mission progresses you find yourself getting closer to all the members of Bad Company. You look back fondly at the memory of Price forcing the rest of you to run back into gunfire to retrieve his stupid bucket hat, the same hat he plops on your head if you're ever too on edge. You can only feel thankful for Ghost's unconventional medical advice - you have to give it to him, this discount Bear Grylls has saved your life more times than you can count. You look forward to the new creative ways Soap will blow up an enemy cache, or watch as Gaz hilariously tries to mimic your direct superiors with an overly high-pitched voice as Price begrudgingly talks to them over comms.

And that's when you realise that there will be a day where the mission is inevitably over. And instead of looking forward to your transfer back, you find yourself wanting to risk your life every day with your beloved bunch of military misfits, the group of you against the rest of the world, than whatever stuffy perks come with being sergeant.

Call of Duty Masterlist

[blackswaneuroparedux]

undefined

I'll teach you to jump on the wind's back and then away we go.

- J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

‘Those who don't jump will never fly’ is a dictum drilled into me from an early age. It’s one I took literally when I learned when parachuting and then later dabbled in sky diving, well before I went into the British army as a combat pilot.

Skydiving provides a unique combination of adrenalin-fuelled exhilaration and perfectly calm tranquillity. While in free fall it's all about the rush - but once the parachute opens and your heart rate steadies, you'll take a moment to gaze around you and see the whole world in a new light. It's beautiful up there, and the experience is about as close to actual flying as humans can actually get.

To the skydiver, ‘flying’ in a plane is akin to ‘swimming’ in a boat. As someone who has flown helicopters I would quible with that simple characterisation but eventually I’m okay to acknowledge there is some truth behind it.

As someone who used to parachute and sky dive as a recreational past time, I can empathise with those skydivers who live for the wind whipping past as they plummet toward the earth during free fall, and the thrill of floating on the air currents once their 'chutes are safely open. They live on the edge, though not in danger - amid the elements, but not at their mercy.

In skydiving, it is the fear response that gradually weakens. During the precipitous descent, the amply tested parachutist can savour the thrill rather than endure the panic. You may never get rid of the butterflies, but you can teach them how to fly in formation.

[highwehyrat]

Mikage Reo, resident chameleon, perfect physique and athletic ability to immitate any type of play he sees to 99% accuracy.

Mikage Reo, resident chameleon, watches porn videos of various positions he'd like to put you in and imitates them to 99% accuracy in the bed.

There's no such thing as a dead bedroom when it comes to Reo

need him to plunge into you while he's holding you up, you got it

want him to absolutely destroy you in the helicopter position, sure thing

want him to drill into you upside down on the ceiling of his mansion, why not.

Nothings impossible with our resident chameleon Mikage Reo. ❤️

First post of the year✨✨✨

[runa-falls]

scratches and bites - 2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Could be a little off-canon for some characters, lots of plot, slight angst, Miguel is an helicopter mom, reader just wants some friends :(

a/n: ok. i didn't realize how much i wanted to put into this chapter so spicy stuff is coming NEXT chapter. promith. i've already written some of it. anyway, i'm glad y'all are enjoying my O'Hara content. I hope this lives up to your expectations lmfao

Summary: Miguel O'Hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. You regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. This is what you've been doing since he swept you away.

w/c: 2.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

So being “Spider-Woman” turned out to be harder than you thought. It’s not all swinging from and shooting webs like you imagined. Apparently, there’s a spider-specific physical regimen you’re required to keep up with. Every day. 

You’re almost convinced that you’re being hazed into the spider-verse community because you are yet to see anyone else doing upside-down web squats on a 100-story building. Not to mention the life-threatening training simulations you were thrown into as soon as you arrived in Nueva York. 

“They can’t hurt you, Kid. They’re holograms.” 

“Yeah, that’s what they want you to think O’Hara, but my ass has been kicked enough to prove differently.”

“Alright, well they can’t kill you.”

Miguel has been “training” you for the last few months to become the best Spider-Woman you can be, pushing you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. Though these days, this “training” is actually just him telling Parker to drill you in whatever he thinks will work. 

O’Hara attempted to do it himself for like three days, and it turns out he’s too impatient to take in a spider apprentice or even be in a room where you do anything but exactly what he commands. 

You should’ve expected it. 

Sure, Miguel is a naturally grumpy man, but you swear he has it out for you. He literally tenses whenever you enter the room and makes sure to barely meet your eyes when he’s forced to talk to you.

Actually, ever since you were dropped in the middle of Spider-Central, O’Hara has been ignoring you. Treating you like the plague. Always making the excuse that he’s too busy with things that are far more important than anything you’d ever have to say. As if he wasn’t the one who forced you to come with him in the first place…

It’s not fair. He was literally all you had. 

Months ago, he showed you a side of him, the one that convinced you that he actually brought you here for a reason, but now he can’t even look at you. Sure, you’re a particularly slow learner, and one that never really liked PE, but you deserve some slack. You left everything for him – for them. 

Meeting people who’ve gone through similar circumstances as you was quite interesting, to say the least. And it doesn’t stop at people either. Spider cars, dinosaurs, and cats were just the beginning. 

You’ve made a few friends. There’s Gwen, a 15 (or was it 16?) -year-old who mostly talks about her friend Miles, music, and…uh, Miles. It’s sweet how she gushes on about some guy without fully realizing how into him she is. Miles sounds great, really great, but you’ll probably never get to meet him because of the number of restrictions placed on your watch. Fucking O’Hara and his parental controls. 

Gwen is cool, she plays the drums and can do a bunch of acrobatic things that you’d never even attempt, but she’s also almost a half-decade younger than you. There’s only so much you can talk about before you start getting homesick. Of course, despite her young age, she’s still given more responsibilities and missions than you. If Miguel has one hobby, it would be undermining everything you do. 

“She’s been in the game longer than you have.” He always makes that excuse. 

And you always counter it with: “But I’m older! I can do more than just scream for help!”

“This isn’t a discussion.” That honestly might be his favorite phrase to shut you up these days. “You’ll be called on when you’re ready, Kid.” And that. 

“I am ready. And stop calling me that. I’m not a kid, I’m 20 years old!”

“Yeah, whatever.”

There’s also Peter Parker, your reluctant coach. He’s…something else. Sure, he’s your friend, but he’s more like a substitute teacher and crazy uncle type of guy. Usually, he listens to everything Miguel says, acting like a glorified babysitter, but sometimes, he’s up to bend the rules on some things.

Once he let you visit his dimension, claiming you’d need some real-life experience as a “friendly-neighborhood spider-woman”. You spent that day chasing down petty robbers and helping old ladies cross the road. Sure, it was a small field trip, but that was only the third dimension you’d traveled to at the time. 

Parker is also always trying to get you to hold his daughter whenever she comes to work claiming that “it’ll be good for your mental health, trust me.” Of course, for Parker, every day is “bring-your-kid-to-train-the-new-spider-woman-day”. And really, you don’t mind holding her, but not when you’re in the middle of sparing 5 of Doc Ocks tentacles. 

The baby is adorable, but you do worry about how she crawls up the walls. Parker doesn’t seem fazed. Actually, neither does O’Hara. 

Sometimes you wonder if O’Hara wants kids one day. He certainly handles Mayday like a pro, letting her crawl over his shoulders and paperwork. Would he possibl– No, actually, it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter, because he left you. He’s not – couldn’t even be an option. – Anyway…

Parker and Mayday are nice company and the only real constants in your life, but you really just want to be a consistent part of the team. You don’t know how much longer you can spend your days doing swinging drills and spider crunches (don’t even ask). But Parker has actually been your rock these past months, to give him credit. He’s one of the few people that makes you feel like you belonged in this distorted array of spiders and dimensions.

Then there’s Hobie. 

The first time you met him you probably had literal stars in your eyes. Donned with a spiked vest and several facial piercings, he caught your attention right away. He catches everyone’s attention. Even his suit is cooler than everyone else’s with a spiked mohawk that surely gets in the way.

Unfortunately, just as you were hoping to take on the Brit as your mentor for all things spider, he was decidedly off-limits, courtesy of O’Hara. Apparently, his rebellious nature and brash energy make him a “bad influence”. 

“Seriously? You should be glad that I’m taking a bigger interest in my training.” You have your hands posted up on your hips, trying to make yourself look bigger than you actually are. Damn, O’Hara and his domineering presence!

He rolls his eyes openly, genuinely already done with the conversation. “Yeah…your ‘training,’ sure.” 

“What is that supposed to mean!” You practically whine it out.

“Don’t get distracted gatita, just do as you’re told.”

“Ok, what does that mean? I don’t speak Italian.”

“That was Spanish dumbass.”

Of course, that doesn’t stop you from hanging out with him anyway (though he’s not around as much anymore). Who knew making friends as Spider-Person would be so hard. You’d think you’d have a lot in common with everyone around you, but really, you’re all alone. Sometimes you think the spiders actually resent you deep down because you’re the only one that has never lost anything. Or had anything to lose in the first place. 

For now, you’re just moving through a sea of spiders, trying to catch a glimpse of what you’re supposed to be doing here. Trying to figure out why you were chosen over the infinite other versions of you in the multiverse.

—

So far you’ve been on 2 and a half missions. The half was when you were forcibly sent home and effectively grounded for a week. Apparently, talking to civilians while standing guard is prohibited, even when they’re selling dip’n’dots. What? It was a long ass mission. And it was hot! 

This one is your official third mission. It’s quite simple, in theory. Just travel to Earth-275A, infiltrate a tech lab, pick up some – worryingly volatile – equipment, and go home. Easy. 

Except, it didn’t exactly go that way. 

It’s just you, Miguel, Gwen, and Jess on this mission. You and Jess were placed on lookout duty (you on the roof and Jess on the ground with her bike), while Miguel and Gwen broke in and out of the building. It was all running smoothly, each spider occasionally muttering quietly through the radio whenever their positionings changed. Otherwise, it was silent. And frankly, a bit boring. 

You idly kicked around some pebbles that somehow found their way onto the roof of this tall ass building, sometimes smacking them against the half wall separating you from falling a thousand feet downwards. You were actually dying to get back to HQ because you briefly spotted Hobie talking to Parker and Mayday before you had to go. He’s been quite absent lately, and you want to show off some of the new moves you learned this week.

Then, there was suddenly action. 

A huge explosion surges out the right side of the building that O’Hara and Stacy were infiltrating. That mission plan was not kidding when they described the ‘volatility’ of the shit inside of those supply crates. Deep creaking and smashing objects follow the blast. You watch as the tallest building in the city starts to tilt. Shit, the explosion must’ve taken out some of the support beams.

You hear Miguel yelling your name through your earpiece, as well as heavy breathing and crumbling concrete in the background. 

“Y-yes? Copy–”

“You and Gwen collect the crate and get out of here. I already called for a portal. Jess and I will get surrounding civilians away from danger.” 

“Understood, sir.” You don’t usually call him anything like ‘sir’, but the stakes are high and complete compliance is needed at this moment. 

“Crate is located on the top floor, Stacy is already there waiting for my word.” You briefly shake yourself out, mentally preparing yourself to scale the larger building in front of you.

With a quick fwp, you attach your web to the nearly as tall building next to your target to give yourself some leverage. You jump without even giving yourself time to think about it, tugging slightly at the web, making sure to collect as much kinetic energy as possible. You release the web when you get to the highest point and spit out another web to get you to the top floor of the building. Luckily the blast took out the windows so you could easily enter the floor. 

There, Gwen stands next to a crate with several scientists and guards nicely pasted onto the walls with perfectly placed webs on each limb and over their abdomens. 

“Took you long enough.” 

“It’s been 30 seconds!”

“Relax, I’m teasing.” She shoots out a couple of webs and connects them to the crate. “Here, help me out with this.” You follow her movements, pulling at your webs slightly to get a good evaluation of its weight. Surprisingly, it moves quite easily, almost three inches from your soft tug.

“Why’re we both doing this when it weighs 100 lbs. We have super strength.”

“I dunno, Miguel just gave us the orders. There’s probably a reason. It doesn’t really matter.” You frown realizing you could’ve been down there helping O’Hara save actual lives but instead, you were ordered to assist a teenager on a one-person job. “The portal is opening in a few seconds on the roof of the building behind us.” Gwen doesn’t seem phased. “We can just swing it with us.”

“Isn’t this shit going to blow up if we move it too harshly?”

“Not when it’s in this protective crate.” She steps closer to the broken window, mentally measuring and planning out the escape route. “That explosion earlier was from an open container.” You hum, still torn over leaving Gwen to do the delivery so you can help people get out of the way faster. “You ready then?” She’s been watching you. Clearly, your thoughts are painted on your face.

You nod briefly, “Let’s go.” Together you take each side of the crate and use your other arms to swing yourselves over to the portal that magically appears. This time, that odd purring sound of the portal is completely blocked out by the chaos going on around you. Somehow the building has still only tilted a little bit since the explosion. 

As Gwen pushes the crate into the gateway, you look down at the streets, watching as Miguel and Jess work impeccably together as they save hundreds of civilians from falling debris and the inevitable demolition of the building.

Then you look back a Gwen, who’s ready to head home. Then you look down at them again. 

Then your eye catches on a red sedan sheltering a terrified family that sits under the chaos.

Gwen catches your eye. “Don’t.” 

“I have to.” 

“Migu–”

“Would do the same.”

“--Will mur-der me.” You sigh, but quickly shoot a couple of webs downwards without looking. Gwen has her arms folded, sharing that unamused expression that Jess loves to sport. Her feet are now temporarily stuck to the floor. You’re sure she could get out of it in a second, but you can tell, she’s not going to stop you. “Don’t die.”

Right before jumping off the ledge, you send her a cheesy smirk, “Me? Never.”

----

Taglist: @deputy-videogamer @danaeaurelia @reuxxi

[imtotallynotthere]

ok so. with your self aware Caz + time loop AU.

i went though the game three times, achievement hunting. and while thats for sure a weird way to start of this ask, it makes me think:

the first time, everything happens as usual. everything goes to hell, then Caz blows the rig. then he wakes up in his cabin at the start of the day again. was it just a horrible nightmare? no, because things still take place as they had. but now he feels compelled to do weird things.

stands around to talk when he should be getting to Rennick's office. throws a wrench off the rig when he should be hiding from Muir. peaks around a corner to glance at Aldair when he should be hiding. throws a cup at Trots.

he knows he can't die-die when he seemingly drowns on purpose, unable to move his limbs after jumping into the oily water of the pontoons. he just can't stop himself from grabbing every live wire he comes across.

then the rig blows up again. and he's in his cabin again.

he must tell someone, surely. but it's like he cant control himself at all. he goes snooping through every cabin, throws himself at every monster that was once a coworker or friend. walks damn near everywhere when he knows he can run.

and then the rig blows up again. and hes back in the cabin. again.

Thank you for the ask and YES!

He'll probably try to dismiss the second time as a sort of "dreams telling the future" thing. However, the impulses don't have an explanation. He wouldn't be able to make sense of it. The drowning death would be, what I think, the straw that ticks him into thinking, "no, this is not normal," and him reliving Roy's death would only drive him further down the path of breaking down since that was the second time he witnessed his friend die in the same manner.

The third time would drive the thing home that no, something is horrible wrong.

Perhaps the fourth time he would be able to hear a voice that's near a whisper and muffled, one that he hadn't heard the other times. He can't make it out but he may dismiss it as the creature doing so.

Caz is a smart man, however. I'm sure it wouldn't take him long to realize the creature only uses the voices of those he's heard before. Not only that, he would be hearing it before it was drilled into.

I think during the fourth run Caz would try to resist more, which would slowly break down the system holding him in place (though he wouldn't know it is a system just yet.)

You would try walking everywhere, only to suddenly run random intervals. When throwing something, it won't throw at first and if you look closely, Caz's hand would seem to be clenching the thing.

His voice lines sound more aggressive and when Roy passes, they sound even more broken. When the helicopter leaves, his voice sounds less panicked than before, like he knows something, though that may be just imagination due to playing it four times.

[hauntingkiki]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do venture waking up from having a nightmare about reader dying and readers like lying right next to them and hears venture crying but reader try’s to comfort venture? Just some angst fluff please :c

OMGGG AWWW, IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS!!

Hellish Night

Venture x Reader

Overwatch

2nd POV

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

venture scrambled into their room, tears poured out of their eyes, rolling down their cheeks and dripping on their clothing, skin and the wooden floor beneath them. “oh my fucking god.” they shakily sobbed, their mind backwards as they immediately forget where everything was located around their room.

their knees gave out from under them, catching themselves on their desk with a sucked in breath. their heart hammered against their chest, the scene from a few hours ago replaying in their mind.

~~

“SLOAN!” you screamed, struggling against the strong hold that was around your waist. you threw your fists into the back of your kidnapper, trying to wiggle out of their hold.

sloan chased after you, stumbling as they tried to keep up with the pace. “Y/N!” they cried, reaching a hand out in your direction.

your kidnapper turned his torso, grabbing his mini gun then firing at sloan, dropping the weapon back to his side as he continued to make his way to the get away helicopter that drowned out the loud mini gun sound with the obnoxious whirling of the propeller.

venture was lucky that all the shots missed, punctuating the ground that was at their feet. venture came to a halt, skidding against the orange dirt as they started at the flying machine in front of them.

your attacker threw you off of his shoulder and onto the metal floor, enemy troops snagging you off the floor, trying to detain you but struggling as you kicked and bit, wiggling around.

venture covered their face with their arm, turning their torso away as the wind around the helicopter pushed them back slightly. when the wind slowly stopped, sloan peeled their arm away and cocked their head up towards the pink and orange sky, wide eyes, horror completely washing over their body as they watched the helicopter zoom off. they faintly noticed you reaching out the open side of the vehicle, getting pulled back by the troops inside.

“SLOAN!”

~~

it kept playing in their mind.

over and over and over again.

a hand shot over their mouth, wide eyes as they gagged, but thankfully swallowed it down. sloan started at the wooden floor beneath them, the wax having a faint reflection of themself.

they felt so stupid.

they could’ve prevented all of this from happening.

sloan should’ve been more cautious about the situation, they could’ve warned winston about their past encounter so he could’ve been kick out of overwatch.

sloan knew what he was capable of. fuck, they’ve seen it first hand! back at illios, talon and some of his troops came into the sight, including mauga.

groaning through gritted teeth, sloan pulled themselves off of the floor, whipping their head around to find the needed supplies they were going to need for this journey.

their eyes landed on their canteen that was hanging on their doorknob. ripping it off of the door, they stormed out of their room and into their kitchen, placing it onto the island before walking off.

they did this for about 15 minutes, going into different rooms and grabbing things that they were going to use.

letting out a breath they didn’t even notice, they stood in front of the island, glancing over all the items that were scattered around the countertop.

a first aid kit; full of gauze, wrapping tape, hydrogen peroxide, alcohol wipes and a lot of other shit sloan didn’t even know were medical stuff.

a canteen with backup water bottles.

a few snacks; crackers, chips, small baggies of fruit and some assorted sweets. anything to give them and you fuel.

a pistol that their grandfather gifted them with boxes of backup ammo.

and their drill.

with backpack in hand, they started to pack, trying to organize everything so it would fit into the pouch the best it could.

just as they finished filling up their canteen, a knock echoed through the room. turning the tap off, they twisted the lid on the metal container, gently placing it on the counter as they walked over to the door.

“angela?” sloan gasped when they opened the door, revealing the medic. their eyes looked around her face, brows knitting together. “what are you doing here?”

angela peeked behind sloan, getting a glimpse of their backpack and their drill. she sighed when they stepped over to the side, blocking her view from inside, even though they were too late. “venture, you can’t go there alone.” she muttered, adjusting her glasses before reaching out and grabbing their calloused hands. “lucio’s getting winston now; we’ll all go with you to save y/n.”

venture turned their head to the side, eyes glued to the ground. “i can’t wait, angela.” they huffed, looking her in the eyes, watching as her face slowly softened at their words. “she needs me. she’s my girlfriend for christ’s sake!” they chuckled faintly at the end, shrugging their shoulders.

the two fell silent, angela letting go of their hands with a nod. “go get her then.” she whispered, nodding in approval. “just…stay safe. and bring her back safely.”

venture started at her with slightly wide eyes, their lips parted at her words. they nodded faintly before nodding eagerly. “i will.” they reassured, running a hand through their chocolate locks. “when winston gets reported of it, you guys can head straight there.”

angela hummed in agreement, giving them a quick hug before running down the hall to alert the others about the situation at hand.

venture quickly put the backpack on, then their canteen around their body. they grabbed the gun and put it in their waist band before dragging their drill and walking out, making sure to grab a pair of keys with them on the way out.

locking their door, they made their way over to all the hero’s vehicles, speed walking over to their motorcycle. they got their drill adjusted onto the back of their bike before they hopped on, putting the keys into the keyhole and started up the bike. revving the engine a few times, they slowly drove out of their parking spot before accelerating and driving off.

•••

coughs and hacks filled the room, the sound of liquid dripping into the floor faintly made it’s presence. shoes clicked around you as one of the soldiers walked around your hunched over body, all of the soldiers who took you hostage watched with chuckles and smirks as blood slowly started to cover the floor from their torture.

tears pooled into your eyes, your attention glued on the blood and spit mixture that dribbled down your chin and into your legs, rolling down your skin and spreading onto the concrete. you slowly turned your gaze over to mauga, your body shaking as you watched one of the soldiers try to coax him into joining the torture, but thankfully for you, he declined, staying in the shadows with his arms crossed.

“i’m going to ask you again!” a male voice spat, baton in his right hand. he got onto one knee, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head up, making eye contact with your wide, tearful eyes. “WHERE is the ffFUCKING ARTIFACT?!”

you shook your head against his hold, blood and spit rolling down your chin. “i don’t FUCKING KNOW.” you spat, blood spattering onto his mask that was covering his identity.

he let go of your hair and spun the baton in his grasp before swinging, landing a clean hit on your jaw.

you cried out, your head snapping to the right. you scoffed faintly, opening and closing your jaw before you spat out some more blood.

the soldier pushed you over with his boot, making you whimper as you landed on your fresh cuts and bruises. you brought your knees up to your chest, hissing as blood gushed out of your abdomen from one of the many stab wounds you’ve received. he raised his arm over his head, getting ready to hit you before pausing.

everyone froze, turning their attention onto the doorway as faint gun shots echoed throughout before a booming drill sound followed.

then silence.

your heart fluttered in your chest, pushing yourself up from your laying down position. you knew that clunky drill sound from anywhere.

venture walked into the room, blood slightly dripping off their drill and off their coat.

your eyes went wide, shuffling forward as tears started to pool into your eyes again. “VENTURE!” you sobbed, your body violently shaking as you wailed.

“GET EM!” a soldier from behind you called out, the rest of the soldiers (besides the one that’s next to you and mauga) started to shoot at the archeologist.

sloan dived behind a pillar, using the pistol to pick off some of the soldiers, groaning when they remembered they left their bag full of ammo back with their bike. tossing the gun to the side, their hands wrapped around the handles of their excavator before they burrowed under the concrete.

you watched your partner with a twinkle in your eyes, your lips parted slightly with a faint smile.

you were going home.

mauga slowly walked over to the soldier who stood a little ways behind you, clearing his throat to gain the man’s attention. once he had his gaze, he jerked a thumb over towards you. “she, uh…she won’t say anything.” mauga admitted, rubbing his neck as he glanced over to you before turning back to the soldier. “we just need to find someone else to tell us.”

the soldier’s eyes landed on a dagger that mauga was holding out to him. he gently took it from the inked up man, caressing the blade between his fingers, being careful to not cut himself with it. he slowly nodded, getting a comfortable grip on the handle. the soldier inched his way over to you, kneeling behind you and-

your eyes shot open, the coldness of the blade entering your skin before it quickly left. you slowly and shakily looked down, blood oozing out of your skin, soaking into your shirt. you felt the liquid trickle from your chest and your back, seeping into your pants.

breathing quickly became hard to do, making you put all of your energy onto a simple task.

the two men behind you quickly left, the dagger staying behind on the floor a few feet away from you.

sloan had their back towards you. their chest fell and rose rapidly, sweat building up and collecting in the blood that spattered onto their skin; they were covered, almost head to toe.

sloan snapped out of their odd state, turning to you with a grin before it quickly slipped of their lips, fear washing over. “y/n!” they gasped, dropping their drill as they ran over to your laying down frame. they slid on their knees when they got to you, rubbing a bloodied hand through their hair. “no…no, nonononono.” tears collected in their caramel eyes, gently lifting you up and holding you in their arms.

you wheezed, coughing as you felt the blood pool into your lungs, time quickly running out for you as you were drowning by your own blood. your own body was killing you.

slowly, you reached a freed hand towards your partner, sloan meeting your hand halfway as they leaned their head down into your touch, placing their bigger, calloused hand over yours.

tears were flowing out of venture’s eyes, dripping onto your face as they slid down. “i love you, cariño.” they whispered, their shoulders shuttering as they sobbed. “don’t leave me…please.”

you smiled meekly, caressing their cheek with your thumb, the blood on their face and on your fingers smudging into their skin. “i love you too, baby.” you muttered, taking a deep breath before slowly exhaling, your eyes closing for a brief moment. “i…” you sighed, before going quiet, falling limp into sloan’s arms.

•••

sloan let out a gasp, clawing at the bedding that was placed over them as they shot up. their hunched over frame stared at the base board at their feet, their chest rising and falling quickly.

sweat rolled down from their temple, their shirt was drenched in the salty liquid, so they quickly tugged the shirt off, some of the left over sweat sticking to their chest from the shirt, but it seemingly disappeared once the ac kicked on.

their vision was a haze, impossible to see in the dark. they blinked a few times and their vision got adjusted to the darkness. they glanced around the room they were in, their eyes stayed glued to the right side of the room first. a bunch of maps, drawings, rocks and gems, history books and other things littered the side of the room; their side of the room.

slowly they turned their head to the left side, their eyes immediately shot down to the bed that they were in.

there you were. sleeping peacefully, your lips slightly parted as you lightly snored, your hands gripping at the sheets and comforter that coated your body.

sloan immediately broke down at the sight of you, relief quickly washing over them when they realized that it was all a dream, a nightmare more than a dream. they threw their face into their hands, their back pressed against their pillows and the head board.

their hics and weeps were quick to wake you up, your hand rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes as you let out a yawn. “babe?” you yawned, fluttering your eyes open once you were done rubbing them with your knuckle. you let out a gasp, pushing yourself up into a seated position as you leaned over to the person sitting next to you. “sloan?! w-what happened? are you okay?” you panicked as you turned on the small lamp on your nightstand, the soft light casting a gentle glow onto the two of you.

your eyes darted around the backs of their hands, scooting your way in between their legs so you were front of them.

sloan peeled their hands away from their tear stained face, choking on their sobs as they struggled to make eye contact. “i…i had a nightmare..” they admitted, almost embarrassed that they were sobbing like this over a nightmare.

you nodded, showing that you understood, sincerity lingering in your eyes. “okay..” you whispered, your hands rubbing gently along their bare, muscular arms. you would be lying if you said you didn’t blush a little at the sight of their bare chest, a small skull with your favorite flowers in your favorite color on their left side immediately catching your eye. you shook your head, scolding yourself at the thought. you can think like that later, you cursed to yourself. “what happened in the nightmare?” your left hand reached out towards their face, gently cupping their cheek as you gently made them look at you, a worried look twisted at your face.

sloan swallowed thickly, their hand atop of yours. they also linked their other hand into your free one, immediately getting a reassuring squeeze from you. “you were taken by talon…” they started, their eyes flickering between your eyes as you watched them. “and you were killed.” they whispered, you almost didn’t catch it.

you let out a huff, a frown tugging on your lips as you brought sloan into a hug. “oh, you poor thing.” you muttered, rubbing a hand in circles along their bare back as your other hand got lost in their thick curls.

sloan dove their face into your chest, gripping at your top as their body shook once again, sobbing into your pajamas.

you shifted around as you comforted your partner, your legs straddled their hips as you gently shushed them, your chin atop of their head as you gently pressed kisses against them every now and then.

“i don’t want to let go.” they muttered against you, loud enough for you to hear it. they pulled away from your body, looking up at you as your hands cupped their cheeks, thumbs grazing under their eyes.

“you don’t have to.” you whispered, kissing their forehead. “i’m not going anywhere.”

sloan sniffled, nodding their head against your hands as they leaned into your right, kissing your palm. “i love you.” they whispered, hands snaking down to your waist as they pulled you closer. “so much.”

smiling, you bright them into a kiss, their lips chapped from the cold air that was being blasted into the apartment. “i love you too.” you muttered against their lips, pulling them into another hug.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

oh…my…god…

that took so long to write holy😭 but totally worth it! (if you couldn’t tell, they’re my favorite character to write) i hope you enjoyed!

[novelmonger]

Some highlights from the Director/Writer Commentary of The Return of the King with Peter Jackson, Philippa Boyens, and Fran Walsh:

As they mentioned in TTT, they were originally going to put the Smeagol vs. Deagol fight as a flashback during the Dead Marshes. Before they decided to use it to open RotK, their placeholder idea for a scene to open RotK was to do a sped-up helicopter shot from the Paths of the Dead, across the plains of Edoras, to the Golden Hall where Aragorn wakes up from a nightmare (and then goes and talks to Eowyn). Very glad they went the direction they did!

In the final shot they used when Smeagol takes the Ring out of Deagol's hand, the actor playing Deagol actually blinked, but they liked Andy Serkis' performance so much, they had Weta go in and freeze Deagol's eyes so they could use the shot XD

You know, I forget sometimes that they didn't even have Saruman in the theatrical cut at all. Boggles the mind.

In the scene where Aragorn comes out of the Golden Hall and goes to stand next to Legolas, who's looking out at the night...Viggo and Orlando weren't in the country at the same time, so they shot them separately and then put them together @_@

You know, I never thought about this before, but when Gandalf touches Pippin's face, they had to make sure his hands looked extra big! So they used an actor called Big Paul, who had the biggest hands they could find, and Ian McKellen directed him for how to move his hands in the shot XD And Big Paul is the Rohan guard who gets shoved aside when Merry and Aragorn rush up to the top of the wall to watch Gandalf and Pippin leave!

THEY SHOT A SCENE OF LEGOLAS TALKING TO TREEBEARD ABOUT THE ELVES LEAVING MIDDLE-EARTH?!?!?!?!?!?! :O Originally, it was going to link the Isengard scenes to the scene of Arwen and the other Rivendell Elves going through the forest, but then because of all the Edoras stuff in between, the connection was lost. They also said something about Legolas reciting a poem! And joked again about putting it into the 25th anniversary edition. THAT TIME IS COMING UP, PETER JACKSON!!!! I WANNA SEE THIS SCENE!!!!!!

a;lkdsjs;kdfljds;fjl NOW THEY'RE JUST TEASING US. They talked about a "library scene" during the whole sequence where Arwen goes back to Rivendell and confronts Elrond about how he saw her son, etc. They wouldn't say what happened in the "library scene," but talked about how they should include that in the 25th anniversary edition too. a;ldkfjs;dkfljsd;kfljdslfk

The people on set who had a crush on Sean Bean were called "Beanstalkers"! XD That's the best; every fan to this day ought to call themselves that!

Similarly to the scene with Legolas and Aragorn, the little bit with Legolas and Gimli as everyone's getting ready to leave Edoras was filmed separately because Orlando and John weren't in the country at the same time. So they filmed Legolas' shots with Brett, John's scale double, then filmed John's shots later, filming both of them against greenscreen. Then they took some unused footage from the Edoras set and put it in the background. It just boggles my mind how many of these cobbled-together scenes there are, because it feels so much like all the characters are together in the real location!

RED ALERT RED ALERT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!! They mentioned Beregond!!!! 8D When talking about why they put in the scene where Pippin and Faramir talk (when Faramir says the uniform Pippin's wearing was made for him when he was a child), in order to forge the connection between them that will ultimately lead to Pippin saving Faramir's life, they talked briefly about Beregond! They describe him taking Pippin under his wing, showing him about the city, and called the relationship between them "quite sweet" :3

Another little connection between Pippin and Faramir I don't think I've ever thought about before, that apparently Billy Boyd thought about when doing these scenes, is that Pippin is the only son of the Thain of the Shire, so there may have been a certain amount of pressure and expectation on him. Obviously, he's so young and probably didn't spend too much time worrying about that while scampering about the Shire, but maybe that's something he thinks about while watching the way Faramir and Denethor interact. Maybe a contrast to the way he would interact with his own father, maybe a reminder of the way he would be scolded? Hard to say, but it's interesting to think about.

Uuuuuuughghghg, so frustrating to listen to them talking about the scene on the steps where Frodo sends Sam away DX No matter how many times and how many different ways they explain why they did it, the explanations never quite make sense to me. "We needed there to be more tension." WHY WAS IT NOT TENSE ENOUGH THAT THEY WERE GOING INTO THE LAIR OF A HUGE EVIL SPIDER?! "There wasn't really anything happening on the steps otherwise." YEAH, BECAUSE YOU PUT THE WHOLE CONVERSATION ABOUT STORIES IN THE PREVIOUS MOVIE! Also, why not just cut from one or two shots of them climbing this awful staircase to a shot of them entering the cave? "There needed to be a payoff for Gollum's scheming." WHY WAS GOLLUM BETRAYING THEM TO SHELOB NOT ENOUGH OF A PAYOFF?! "We knew InStInCtIvElY that Frodo needed to enter the cave alone." WHY? WHY?! I've never understood that. They get separated eventually in the book, so why not just ramp up the tension of that in the movie, instead of making the characters so OOC? "We knew it would shock readers of the book, and if we'd changed that, what else might we have changed?" You know...I really, really love these movies, and I appreciate what these three were able to accomplish so much...but sometimes I kind of hate them too -_-

The horses didn't want to walk down the hill on the cobbled streets of Minas Tirith, because their steel shoes were so slippery on the stones. So they all had to be re-shod with rubber shoes. What were horseshoes made of back in ye olden days, though? Iron? Did people run into the same problems back then?

I never really noticed this before, but Aragorn never wears Anduril on his belt! He straps it to his horse, and every time you see him with it, he's just holding the naked blade. This is because they made Anduril so long it was really hard for him to wear it from his belt or to pull it out of the scabbard in a natural way XD

The aerial shot of all the Rohirrim leaving Dunharrow was originally shot to show Gandalf's cart heading into the Shire, but since they didn't use it for that, they repurposed it for RotK!

To get Elijah Wood to foam at the mouth when he's stung by Shelob, they gave him two Alka-Seltzer tablets to put in his mouth and work up some foam with his saliva. I've always wondered how they do that sort of thing in movies, but no one's bothered to explain until now....

Sean Astin's audition scene was holding Frodo after Shelob ;A; Apparently, they (or at least Philippa Boyens) were a little skeptical that an American actor would be able to do Sam's character right, but actually a lot of the English actors who auditioned for the role had a hard time with the Shelob aftermath scene, but Sean nailed it :')

Other than the close-ups, they used a dummy for Faramir on the pyre most of the time. Now I'm just imagining John Noble crouching on top of the pyre, cradling a dummy XD

The first Orc that Aragorn kills on Pelennor fields is played by his son Henry! XD

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME. They actually filmed Sam pushing past the sort of psychic barrier of the Watchers at the gate of Cirith Ungol, but they didn't put it into the extended edition! I love that part. Like...I'm not even sure why, but I've always thought that was such a cool little detail, and I've always been a bit bummed it wasn't in the movie, though I was thrilled to see the actual Watchers at least there as a sort of homage. And all along, they'd actually filmed something for that after all and I never knew! :O

You know, I never thought about it before, but it makes sense that they had to replace the sky digitally in a lot of scenes in Mordor, because of course when they filmed it, the sky wasn't always completely cloudy, but Mordor needs to have a complete cloud cover at all times.

When Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens first saw the footage of Sam carrying Frodo up Mt. Doom, they sent a fax (lolol 1999/2000 technology) to Sean and Elijah. They made the first page look all formal and official, and then on the second page it just said, "You made us cry." :')

Andy Serkis refused to have Gollum stand on two feet until the scene in the Crack of Doom. There were a few times that PJ directed him to lurch onto his feet or something, but Andy wouldn't do it. He wanted to show the difference in Gollum physically when he has the Ring again. What a cool detail!

Originally, the whole part where Frodo's hanging off the ledge and Sam is begging him to reach for him happens after the Ring is destroyed. It's really interesting to consider the slight nuances of how different that would be. The final version makes it almost seem like the Ring is still calling to Frodo, like he wants to fall into the lava and join it, whereas originally it was more like "I've lost the Ring and now I have nothing left to live for."

PJ made a sweet comment in the scene where everyone bows to the four hobbits: "This is a moment where there's always a huge sniffle in the audience when the movie's going, and it's usually me." XD

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?! They shot scenes of what happens to the other characters when the hobbits return to the Shire! There is footage out there somewhere of what Legolas and Gimli do, what happens with Faramir and Eowyn!!!! ;aldkfjsd;fkldslfkjd 25th anniversary edition LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!