#style rifles yelled

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Clarisse Larue Dating Head-cannons~

An: reader doesn’t have a set godly parent essentially but this is Clarisse x fem reader HC!

————————————————————————

- before you two started dating she would constantly try to show off, be that in capture the flag regular sparing or bulling new kids

- could listen to you talk for hours

- type of person that can go from threatening someone in a harsh tone to immediately becoming gentle and loving once she sees you

- treats her spear like it’s her baby (especially her second one) once she trust enough she’ll let you train with it though she will watch over you like a hawk

-loves when you do her hair, if your not good with her hair type she enjoys if you’ll simply help her pull it back into a ponytail however if your skillful with hair she’ll let you do what ever style you want on her

-has and will threaten people for you

-one time while playing capture the flag the other team caught you and put you in “jail”, however you ended up getting hurt and injuring yourself in some way.. once the game was over she marched up to the other team and yelled around trying to find out who caught/hurt you

————————————————————————

“Who the hell did it then?!” Clarisse yelled at a Hermes kid, the blue team shifted around trying to avoid the angry daughter of ares.

“Claire im Fine, It’s just a Cut I’ll live” you sighed grabbing clarisses arm trying to calm the angry girl down while ignoring the blood running down your shin as you had a cut in your thigh.

Clarisse Just scoffed and turned back to you kissing your forehead before giving the other kids a dirty look. “Whatever, when i find out which of you punks did this you’ll be face first in the dirt” she threatened and walked away with you in hand… since that day no one’s tried to put you back in “jail”.

————————————————————————

-it’s cannon clarisse is good at wrestling so she most likely will teach you self defense moves that can help you no matter who your fighting (mostly because she’s worried that if/when the camp were to be attacked she would want you to know how to defend yourself)

-her love language is quality time and words of affirmation, so she’ll do whatever she can to spend time with you and be active with you, if you don’t really enjoy sports or training she’ll go on walks with you in the forest, pick strawberries with you and try to do other things like swimming or more

- now if your into sports no matter the sport she’ll gladly play or train in it with you so for example volleyball : shell take you down to the sand pit where the volleyball net is and play a few rounds with you, or if you do colorguard : she’ll watch as you spin flag or rifles and even try it out with you

- keeps EVERYTHING you give her, from a sticky note that you had written a reminder on for her to gifts like bracelets though if you asked her if she had any of the items she would deny it all

- Clarisse is nervous with PDA as she doesn’t want to seem weak so she’ll hold your hand or give the occasional forehead or cheek kiss but once you two are alone she’s like your shadow holding onto you actually kissing you and letting her guard down

- like I said before she loves having you around her so when she’s working out or busy sparing with her siblings or hitting a dummy she likes when you sit near by and watch her (she’s gonna show off)

- while working out she’ll let you try to lift her weights which you can’t and she’ll jokingly makefun it you for it

————————————————————————

You groaned as she tried to lift the heavy weight with one hand. Your girlfriend laughing in the background wasn’t helping. “You can stop laughing you know” you shot her a look.

“Yeah I know” clarisse grinned and walked over picking up the weight with ease. “It’s Just cute to see you struggle”

You rolled you eyes and lightly hit clarisse who was still giggling.

————————————————————————

-if your a medic clarisse will come into the infirmary on occasion giving you a fake sickness or injury just so she can have you take care of her

-one time a group of girls were shit talking about clarisse and normally she would of snapped at them but Chiron had told her that if she caused another scene that she would have to clean the Pegasus stalls.. as she tried to ignore them she saw you step up and yell at the girls telling them off. That’s when she realized she was in love with you

————————————————————————

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR BOTH PJO AND HOO BOOKS‼️

- Clarisse appreciates when you will give her words of affirmation. With how her father is you telling her that she’s good enough and that your proud of her helps her self confidence a lot

- after silenas death in the battle of Manhattan she became even more protective of you. She already lost one person she loved and gods know what she would do if she lost you to

————————————————————————

Clafisse hugged you tight as the two of you cuddled on the bed in the empty ares cabin.

“Clair.. you ok” you asked softly while caressing the girls curls.

“I need you to Promise me something” she sat up and cupped your face looking into it with seriousness but also love.

“What is it” You asked with a soft smile, you knew clarisse was going through a lot and you also k ew you would always be by her side.

“Promise me your not gonna leave..” clarisse whispered, you could see the pain in her eyes. “Promise me your not gonna do some stupid shit in battle and get yourself killed” she spoke in a passive aggressive tone with her voice breaking and her eyes tearing up slightly. You knew clarisse still blamed herself for silenas death and all you knew to do was comfort the girl.

You let out a gentle sigh and sat up hugging the girl. You kissed her shoulder and nodded. “I promise..I’m not going anywhere”

————————————————————————

- while they were preparing for the battle between the Greeks and Roman’s clarisses made sure you were placed as far away from the battle as she could get you (if your a medic this works out perfectly for her)

- after the battle of manhattan and the one against the Roman’s (idk what it was called) if your a medic she only wants to be nurses back to health by you

- something I can see clarisse doing is breaking up with you before the battle of manhattan, yeah she pulled out the war before it started but she’s the type of person that if she feels like she’s going to die she would want you to hate her so you won’t grieve over her however as soon as it was over and you were back at camp she would apologize and explain why she broke up with you and ask to get back together (you agreed of course but you told her if she ever did that again you two really would be over)

————————————————————————

An: 💔 Anyways uh this is my first time posting something like this so if it sucks uhh 🤷‍♀️

[sol-consort]

Consider how funny it is for Kaidan to go from Rahna, a delicate and fragile spring flower with the sweetest heart who got scared by him protecting her.

To Shepard. Especially renegade Shepard.

It's like two opposite extremes.

That's super soldier, first human spectre, made out of steel and titanium Shepard. First human to attend a krogan rite and beat a thrasher maw on foot. First human to kill a reaper time after time after time.

And like no slander on Rahna, she is obviously a very different person with different traits, she sounds very sweet and kind hearted.

But it is hilarious that he went from playing knight in shining armour for a damsel in distress, to getting carried fireman style on Shepard's back multiple times and having Shepard scream commands at him during shootouts. Like Shepard's presence is just so dominanting by itself, imagine a renegade Shepard who puts everyone at their place at every turn.

Home boy thought he'd go for a slightly more adventurous person, not realising he signed up to be the squeeze stress toy for the Atlas of the galaxy carrying the world on their back as the most famous human alive.

That's six-pack Shepard with a sculpted god-like body. That's always in military uniform with everyone addressing them with the utmost respect Shepard. That's knowing how to use every rifle type known to mankind and nerves of steel Shepard. Powerful and dangerous.

That's short-temper and always yelling loud enough over the sound of gunfire and explosions Shepard. That's ordering people to stand down and obey them without question Shepard. That's requiring absolute devotion from their crew and somehow earning it every time they get assigned a new crew Shepard.

Can you imagine how different his life would've been if Rahna just didn't reject him? He would've had an average marriage with the most stereotypical gentle strong husband and delicate sensitive wife relationship. Got an office job maybe or something instead of signing up for the military, rarely used his biotics or just joined C-sec as an officer if he was feeling a little adventurous.

Instead of you know, standing at Shepard's side during war negotiations with admirals to face the reapers. Being taken to cure the genophage, resolve a war that's almost a thousand years old, visit the asari's most sacred temple and witness Shepard stand in front of a reaper like it's nothing while stepping away from the burning laser beam storming their way.

Man that's wild. Kaidan really didn't know what he was in for when he thought his new commanding officer that Anderson introduced him to, is kinda cute and maybe he'll hint at liking them and see if they want to spend some shore leave together. Why not step out of his comfort zone and try a slightly different type than Rahna you know? What's the worst that could happen?

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Lies and Alibis

Part 2, Previous, Next

Nikolai/Plus Size F!OC

This one's a bit longer! Nothing to scary, but their is some violence. Again this is a bit silly and very self indulgent, please enjoy!!!

banner by @/une-femme-de-lettres

Life or death situations really do sober you up, which is really handy considering very big men with very big guns were now looking for her. She tries not to tremble too badly as she scans the bathroom for something, anything really to help her.

Best case scenario, she escapes with all her limbs intact. Preferably. 

Worst case scenario, they bust in and simply kill her then, a quick bullet to the dome. There were certainly more worse scenarios…but there was no time to line all those details out. She shudders. 

Think think think.

Locking the door would only make her presence inside more obvious. 

Find a weapon? She's seen broads in movies use the ceramic back of the toilet as pretty solid weapon before, she knows if she clocks someone just right it would at least knock them out. 

She peers into the stall, and of course there isn't one. Stupid automatic flusher. 

She turns again, eyes the small windows lining the far wall and nearly curses. She couldn't even fit her tits through the opening let alone the rest of her. Who the fuck even makes a window like that?

She can hear more yelling outside, and her heart pounds. She wasn't going to make it out. Not without someone seeing her.

She’s desperate, mind racing as a very hairbrained thought occurs to her.

If she was going to die cartoonishly, her fat ass wasn't going to be shot to swiss cheese hanging out of window she most certainly was going to get stuck in. Instead she works the glass pane open, pushing it as far as it could go before peeling off her heels and tossing them haphazardly onto the floor below the opening. 

With the clock ticking she scampers on bare feet into the handicap stall, leaving the door open a crack and climbing onto the toilet in the far corner. She was thankful that nicer bathrooms didn't have a crack a mile wide between the frames. She hunkers a bit, feet on the bowl with her ass resting against the wall to brace her. 

This was stupid, really.  Beyond stupid, suicidal even. But her mama did not raise a quitter. 

The door opens and her heart catches in her throat. She holds her breath as a pair of footsteps echo against the pearly tile. One set coming closer as the other kicks open the other closed stalls ahead of her. Oh god. She was going to die like this. On a toilet, Elvis style. She almost starts to cry, clutching her hands over her mouth to stifle her trembling breaths.

I escaped, I escaped. 

A voice rings out in the quiet, disbelieved barking.

“Blyat, Sbezhal!!”

What.

More cursing. A frantic phone call, and hurried steps out of the bathroom follow.

She waits. That…that seriously worked.

Holy shit. That worked.

She climbs down on shakey legs and puts an ear to the door, listening carefully for any more noise. The commotion must have cleared the place, and she cracks the door into the dead quiet. She'd planned to bolt, hit the door and run for her fucking life, but she thinks of her knight in glittering gold jewelry.

She doesn't know why now out of all times she feels guilty for a random russian mobster. He couldn't have been too much better than these other men, and for all she knows if it was his business she was poking into he would have had her murked too.

He helped you.

For reasons unknown, or perhaps even nefarious, but she didn't know that, just like he didn't know having her on his arm would get him a gun stock to the face.

Her eyes flicker between the door to her escape and the long hallway they'd taken him, and she sighs, long and ill suffering. 

-

This is beyond stupid, she grouses inwardly, crawling her way underneath another set of hallway length windows in an effort to not get her head blown off by the rifle toting jarhead she'd seen walking the perimeter. 

She didn't have much besides “Grab Nikolai and Leave”. The details around even that fuzzy, not to mention the man may or may not be dead…or at minimum very angry with her. She pauses dead for a second, a little spinning wheeling flashing in her mind's eye as she slowly works that problem out.

…maybe he won't be so mad if she helps him. He could at least get them out of there and hunt her another day. 

Too late to go back now. 

From what they could tell they were searching the woods for her. What remnants of the dinner party left long gone in the aftermath, with just a few men and her knight left. 

She continues following the trail of blood and black skid marks from well polished shoes down fancy tiled corridors. Pausing around the corner as the sound of wet thuds and pained grunts hit her ears, followed by more seething russian.

Words so snarled she can barely understand. Something about her, betrayal, stupidity. Their captive rasps. Feigning ignorance.

No, not feigning, telling the truth. As the familiar voice definitely belonged to Nikolai, a light edge to it despite his predicament. Her heart pangs with guilt. This was definitely her fault.

She's fully prepared to play the waiting game, find a place to hide until at least one of the guards leaves the room. That is until she hears the light tap of a shoe on tile far too late, turning just in time to catch the pistol careening with her face.

-

Fucking, ow. 

Her head bounces off the marble and she sees stars, body laying limply on the floor as she attempts to reboot.

He'd definitely busted her head open, hopefully she wouldn't need stitches, but probably considering she could already feel the blood slipping into her hairline. 

And as she takes stock of herself, she realizes that he definitely thinks he's knocked her out, judging by the way he bitches, grumbling about her weight before unceremoniously grabbing her ankle and dragging her along.

She bites her tongue, forces herself to fall limp despite the radiating pain in her skull. Cracking like lightning as her head thunks between the grout. 

Eventually she's stopped, her thick leg flung hatefully to the floor as a door slams behind her. She keeps still. Listening. There was another, ragged labored breaths. She dares to crack her eye just a smidgen, taking in the blurry visage that was Nikolai, his limp black locks hiding his face from her view.

Okay. Target located. She hadn't necessarily planned playing possum to get there but hey, a win is a win. 

Win number two, a knocked out fat girl was apparently not threatening enough to justify security. Her arms and legs left splayed lifelessly beside her and undisturbed.

The door clicks again. Followed by heavy footsteps.

New problem.

She cracks her eye again, watching the guard stalk back and forth through the blurred slit of her eyelids. His back, thankfully toward her. 

He's yapping again, yanking Nikolai back by the hair to sneer. Monologuing as power hungry idiots are wont to do.

Her eyes scan the room fully now. She can make this work. He's bigger than her but she's got enough ass to swing hard if she needs to. Enough pressure in the right place can knock anyone out. Jaw, temple, base of skull, she lists. 

Her eyes search, lamp, chair, paperweight, all doable but loud….her eyes fall just above her. Pretty velvet curtains tied back neatly with thick, golden tasseled chord. Bingo.

Keeping her eyes glued to her chatty assailant she reaches upward, fingers barely grasping at the silky strands before tugging it down the length of the curtain, catching it swiftly before it could thunk against the floor. 

She'd needed to be quick for her next trick. She eases herself up. Wrapping the chord around both palms, steeling herself for what could very well be the worst decision she's ever made. Cut off blood supply, crush his windpipe. She pictures the anatomy in her head, and before she can bitch out she lunges, throwing the chord around his throat and yanking.

There's a choked gasp as she twists, turning her body 180 and pulling down sharply, attempting to use her own weight to assist in strangling the man. He thrashes against her back, nearly toppling them both over.  She's too short, his legs still able to scrabble against the ground.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She twists again, maneuvering her arms to twist the makeshift garrote around his throat into more of a noose. They both stumble in the struggle, falling to the floor in a heap. 

Absolutely fucking not.

She scrambles, keeping the chord pulled taut around the guards neck as she kicks her feett out, planting them both against the man's shoulders and yanking with all her might. Keeping her legs stiff and holding onto the chord for dear life, palms straining as she simultaneously pushes and pulls.

He really flails now, legs kicking and eyes bulging. Dull nails drawing blood against her calves and ankles where he fights to claw her off. She'd be impressed with his tenacity had she not been fearing for her own life. How fucking long did it take to strangle someone?

“Pull harder, zaychonok” a voice rasps over the gurgling and choking in the room. Nikolai.

And she does, grunting with the effort as she pushes with her knees, keeping the chord pulled tight against her chest, whole body beginning to tremble with the effort. 

“pull, keep pulling, more, more”

The man at her feet tries to howl, frothing and flailing desperately before there is a sickening pop. His body falling limp and silent. She sags, panting harshly, letting her cheek rest against the cool tile of the floor. Her hands throbbed, burned and bloodied from the rope, but she was alive, blessedly alive.

Which could not be said for the guard. 

She shoots up, flinging the chord viciously from her hands and stares at him. He's dead alright, head cranked at an unnatural angle, dead eyes bulging and painted red from broken vessels. His neck painted in varying shades of red and purple. 

It makes her stomach churn. 

She stares at the body, her memory carving his corpse into the inside of her skull. It’s not that she hadn't seen a dead body before, she's seen plenty. She's just…never been the direct result of a dead body. The words Do No Harm, echoes in her brain. 

“Zaya”

She flinches, eyes bouncing to Nikolai who watches her carefully.  “Fetch me his knife” he instructs, and his voice is soft, surprisingly gentle given the situation. She follows, moving on autopilot to flip the thug over and snag the knife from his belt. 

She stumbles toward him. Clumsy like a newborn foal as she cuts the zip ties from his wrists with trembling fingers. Vehemently ignoring looking at the dead man on the floor. 

Nikolai makes a little relieved sound, rubbing his aching wrists as she circles back around. He carefully tugs the knife from her hands, never taking his eyes off of her as he slides it against his belt.

“Good job” he murmurs, hooking a hand a bit to roughly against her shoulder. Shaking her from her thoughts again. The poor man looks rough, they both do. Thankfully it’s something she thinks a few stitches and a bath couldn't fix. But something else occurs to her.

“You speak english.” she deadpans, staring at him with exhausted eyes, and this mad bastard has the gall to let out a small wet laugh.

“Very observant” he chuckles, patting her shoulder moving across the room on stiff legs. He plucks a handgun from the desk drawer and checks the magazine. Satisfied , he slides it into his belt, bending again to pick up the guard’s fallen handgun making the same check. He eyes her with a raised brow.

“Can I trust you with this?”

She swallows hard, nods. It’s been a while, but she knows how to use it. 

He approaches, quickly going over the safety, how to clear it, before pushing it into her hand. His warm palm slides over the metal, gripping her wrist securely. He folds his chin to his chest, looking into her eyes. Holding her attention. 

“Stay close to me, keep your hand off the trigger, we will survive.”

“Da” she repeats, preening just a bit as he smiles at her.

[secondaxispoint]

do you think you could write like where the reader had his leg injured so (Din or Joel, i love them both, can’t decide, whoever you want to do) carry’s him bridal style and patches him up and then they snuggle together while The Kids TM (ellie or grogu) are teasing them :) love your writing, and have a good day!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injuries, No use of Y/N, Reader is referred to as Tex.

Content: Fluff

I loved this prompt. Calling Ellie and Grogu The Kids ™ cracked me up 😂. Thanks for the request!!

Are You Okay?

The hunting trip was going about as well as it could have. The three of you had split up. You and Ellie going deep into the forest while Joel followed the riverbed. You stopped Ellie and pointed out a deer about 90 metres out. You handed her your rifle and told her to slowly kneel down, she followed your orders. You told her to remember what Joel had shown her while tugging out your binoculars.

After scoping in, she took a deep breath in and put her finger on the trigger. You noticed a familiar glimmer across the woods. It looked familiar. What the hell was that? Sniper scope. The shine was the sun gleaming off the scope. You grabbed Ellie just as you heard the bullet whizz by. It would have hit her square between the eyes if you hadn’t yanked her away. Another shot rang out but you didn’t know where I hit.

You were too busy looking over Ellie, making sure she was alright. You took the hunting rifle from her hand and steadied yourself on the tree. You waited for the gleam to appear again. It only took a few seconds to see it. Aiming in, you calmed your breathing and pulled the trigger. You saw the bullet hit its target as your ears rang. Your vision swam and a dull ache was radiation up from your thigh. You turned back to Ellie and grasped her shoulders.

“Holy shit Tex, your leg!”

You ignored her comment in favour of checking over her once again. 

“Are you okay? Nothing hit you, no ricocheted shrapnel or anything?”

Her eyes were wide and she shook her head. She was seemingly more caught up with whatever was on your trousers. You looked down and adjusted your jeans. You saw a crimson spot growing from above your knee. You were getting a bit dizzy and Ellie started to sound a bit far away. You tried to brush it off and started leading Ellie back the way you came. She kept asking you if you were okay and you kept giving her the same answer.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“I’m fine, keep it movin’ El”

Your vision had reduced to a pinpoint and your breathing became a bit erratic. You couldn't stop yourself from blacking out. You really tried. You hit the ground with a grunt. You heard Ellie yelling at you to get up but you couldn’t move a muscle if you wanted to.

——

Okay. Okay. Tex was out cold and she had no idea where Joel was. That’s fine. She would just have to find him. Last she saw, Joel was walking along the riverbed. So she found the river and checked for foot prints. She found the prints of Joel’s boot and started to call out to him as she followed them. Ellie knew that she shouldn’t be making this much noise but she was desperate to find Joel. She heard brisk strides coming towards her direction. Pistol up, she aimed it in front of her just in case it wasn’t him.

She saw Joel hop up from the bed and ran past her. She called out his name and he spun on his heel, barrel pointed at her. Her hands shot up and she stood still. Joel’s expression softened when she realised it was him and he lowered his weapon. He ran up to her and quickly examined her for wounds, just as Tex did.

“Ellie, what happened? Where’s Tex?”

Joel checked over her shoulder, looking for the other man that was supposed to be with her.

“He’s back in the woods. He got shot in the leg protecting me from a guy while we were hunting and he blacked out and I didn’t know what to do so I came out to find you and-”

Joel pulled her in for a hug, quieting her rambling.

“Where is he?”

Ellie pulled him along as she retraced her steps.

——

You shook your head as you sluggishly came back to reality. You didn’t see any sign of Ellie or Joel but you did hear the sounds of footsteps. You took a shallow breath and shoved yourself up against the nearest tree, attempting to hide yourself from the nearing assailants. You scrambled, trying to find your gun but it was nowhere to be found. A familiar thought filled your head. You were going to die here.

But to your surprise, Ellie’s head popped around the tree followed by Joel. You felt a weary smile drift across your face. Joel’s eyes filled with worry after seeing the dark scarlet stain on your leg. He was next to you in a second. He put his hands on your wound, tearing a pained groan from the back of your throat. He apologised and moved his hands further up your leg. He had Ellie take a piece of cloth and wrapped it just above your injury. You watched Joel tie the tourniquet and pull it tight.

“You alright Tex?”

His hand was on your thigh.

“Tex?”

He was only centimetres away.

“Tex!”

He shook your shoulder and you snapped back from your thoughts.

“What? Oh yeah I’m alright. Just a bit worn out.”

You hummed. Joel knitted his brow and sighed. 

“Can you walk?”

Joel asked you, his voice lowered. You tried to push yourself up onto your feet but it only resulted in a searing burn flow throughout your leg. You shook your head and leaned your head back onto the tree trunk. He sat back on his heel and thought for a minute.

“Here, give me your pack.”

You carefully removed your pack and gave it to Joel, who in turn handed it off to Ellie. She double welded your packs, one on her back and the other on her chest. Joel carefully put one of his arms underneath the back of your knees, not wanting to irritate your already flaming wound. He then put the other arm under your back. You hadn’t registered how much your leg actually hurt until you felt your entire lower half throbbing.

Joel lifted you up in his arms in a bridal carry. You're sure you would have been a lot more nervous being so close to Joel if you hadn’t been so exhausted. You were pressed close to his chest while he walked. You heard Ellie rustle through her bag, probably reaching for her disposable camera. You heard a click and saw a flash of light as she snapped a picture. Joel told her to knock it off but he had a joking lilt to his tone and a barely visible smile on his face.

You felt every step he took in your leg. The sway of his stride only aggravated your already angered wound. Yet you started nodding off. Joel was warm and smelled of the coffee he spilled on himself that morning. Ellie’s stupid jokes started to fade as you peel away from consciousness once again.

——

After what felt like an hour, Joel stepped up on the porch of the cabin the three of you had settled in. He walked to the couch that sat close to the fireplace and laid you down. He grabbed the wood that sat in the corner and tossed it in. He lit a piece of paper and the fire roared to life. He warmed his hands before grabbing the medkit to patch you up. 

You helped shimmy your trousers down enough so that Joel could get a good look at the gunshot wound. It looked a lot worse than you thought it would. The bullet ripped straight through the right side of your knee, just barely missing the bones there. Joel winced when he saw it. He took the needle and started stitching up the injury on the front of your knee. You ground your teeth and balled your fists. 

When he was done with the front he shushed you and took your hand. Once you had calmed down enough, he got started on the back of your knee. It was worse. Much worse. There wasn't much he could stitch back together. So he found the exit wound and cleaned it. You would just have to wrap it and pray that it wouldn’t get infected. He redressed you and helped you limp to the back room. There was a mattress with a blanket laid on top of it. You tossed yourself down on the bed and scooted to the middle.

“Do you want me to stay or go?”

Joel asked you in a shushed tone. You opened your arms, a silent invitation for him to lay down with you. He did just that. He laid himself next to you and you tucked your head into his chest. The warmth of his embrace lulled you off to sleep once again.

I know I’ve been using the nickname ‘Tex’ a lot. Let me know if you guys don’t like it or have any replacements. 😙

[goodfish-bowl]

Wired-In

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 2: Technomancy

AO3 Link

Summary: Valerie hadn’t noticed any differences at first, just life being a bit easier when it came to certain things. but with the hum now constantly under her skin, it’s difficult to focus on anything else.

Warnings: angst, slight body horror

Words: 805

It had been small and subtle things at first, differences that Valerie could only notice in retrospect. Devices no longer asked for passwords, and the broken cash register at work would suddenly start functioning again after a swift hit to the side. It would only take a good, percussive kick to get the bugged-out ice cream machine working again. All of them were small things that she wouldn’t look at suspiciously, but would make her day just the slightest bit easier. 

Then, some other things became a lot easier. Valerie’s fingers would fly across a keyboard, autocorrecting to exactly what she meant, even if the word was widely misspelled. Using her suit became so close to second nature it barely took the hint of a thought to get it to do anything, from her hoverboard to the manifestation of weapons she had never called upon before. Valerie actually noticed this one, but wrote it off as a progression of skill. That sniper rifle-style blaster had managed to land a solid hit on Phantom before he could even react. 

The first time Valerie really noticed something was up, it had been during a three way fight between Skulker, Phantom, and herself. A vivid image of Skulker’s wings deploying and sending him directly into the closest building flashed in her mind. With a show of teeth, and an audible snarl, Valerie gave into the impulse and harshly shoved the mechanical ghost out of the way. Red flashed beneath Skulker's suit, racing up his arm in a pulse of light, his eyes flickered to her signature crimson. With the sound of skulker yelling inside of his suit as he lost control, the wings deployed and he crashed directly into the office building to their left. Valerie only spared enough time to glance between her hand and the Skulker-shaped hole in the office windows, before forcing her hoverboard to go faster after Phantom.

It had been later that night, that Valerie truly acknowledged that something wasn’t quite right. The screen in her visor no longer projected the tracking formation before her face, but flashed with complete understanding behind her eyes. She accepted it easily in the moment, caught up in the chase, but laid in her bed for hours afterwards. After flicking through the mental computer in her mind for a while, Valerie ended up mentally going over recordings of her own memories, like they were recorded from her own eyes with perfect clarity. Even with her suit tucked away, she could still feel it humming under her skin, and buzzing behind her eyes. It didn’t go away, and she couldn’t find the power button either.  

Valerie couldn’t decide if this was a good thing or not, still lost in her own mind, but still hearing every minute of Mr. Lancer’s lecture as it was recorded and transcribed into a small corner of her mind. It made her feel less human, with every second of her memory being perfectly recalled like a computer log. Now that she was aware of it, Valerie could even feel the high-frequency buzz of electronics in the school building, the call of various devices tucked away behind the textbooks and in bags. It made her hyper aware of everything humming with electricity in this corner of the building. She absently wondered what she could do with it, but these powers reminded her far too much of Technus, usefulness aside it twisted her gut in a way she didn’t like as she was changed without her permission.

Valerie wondered if she should go to the Fentons about her newfound powers, but that brought the drawback of them finding out. Valerie herself didn’t want to know if they cut her open, and took samples, if they would find electricity and ectoplasm mixed into her blood. Chips and wires replacing her veins. Danny was terrified of ghosts, she didn’t want him to look at her in fear, if she turned out to be more ghost-like than human.

Valerie rammed the thoughts about her powers to the side with such mental force she thought Skulker would go through another building (in the room over, a light burst). She was human, some neat and very useful abilities didn’t change that, it was a good thing, it made her a better ghost hunter. If she could link into the local security and traffic cameras, she might finally be able to find out where that awful ghost went when he wasn’t terrorizing Amity Park. She could take him down for good. Valerie hummed in contentment at the thought of finally getting her revenge, matching the humm of the lights above her perfectly.

Valerie didn’t catch the brief glance from Danny across the classroom as his breath released in a cold wisp and caught a flicker of crimson in her eyes.

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Master Post

[dertaglichedan]

Gunman Identified as 20-Year-Old Thomas Matthew Crooks in Trump Rally Shooting in Butler

Donald Trump shot in the ear. One spectator were killed. Two other spectators critically injured.

The gunman who attempted to assassinate former President Donald Trump Saturday was identified as 20-year-old Thomas Matthew Crooks.

Crooks, of Bethel Park, Pa., squeezed off shots — one of which grazed Trump in the ear — at an outdoor rally in Butler, just outside Pittsburgh.

Sources said Crooks was was planted on a roof of a manufacturing plant more than 130 yards away from the stage at Butler Farm Show grounds.

Moments before the suspected shooter opened fire at a Donald Trump rally, crowd members can be heard yelling, “He’s got a gun.”

The gunman believed to be behind the assassination attempt on President Donald Trump has been identified as 20-Year-Old Male who was in a sniper position when the shots were fired at the rally.

The alleged gunman, who has since been killed was in a sniper position far from the crowd, Trump campaign sources told the outlet.

“He came within inches of having his face shot open,” a senior law enforcement officer told the outlet. One witness reported seeing the gunman “bear-crawling” on the roof.

The suspected shooter fired an AR-style rifle from an elevated position outside the rally venue.

Here’s what we know about the incident

During Former President Trump’s campaign rally in Butler, Pennsylvania, on the evening of July 13 at approximately 6:15 p.m., a suspected shooter fired multiple shots toward the stage from an elevated position outside of the rally venue.

U.S. Secret Service personnel neutralized the shooter, who is now deceased.

U.S. Secret Service quickly responded with protective measures and Former President Trump is safe.

Trump said a bullet pierced the upper part of his right ear, causing heavy bleeding during an apparent assassination attempt.

One spectator was killed, and two spectators were critically injured.

This incident is currently under investigation. and the Secret Service has notified the FBI.

[swordbladeknight7]

HELLO I ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOUR ART YOUR STYLE IS SO UNIQUE AND PERFECT I LOVE THE THICK LINES 😍😍 you asked for kalluzeb drawing ideas and uhhh I'm a total sucker for them sparring. The fact that they both can wield bo rifles in canon is awesome bc those fights look so rad 😭 that's also a crazy complex drawing request so alternatively: THEM HOLDING HANDS 💗💗💗

WHY NOT BOTH

They’re both too wrapped up in post-spar adrenaline (and each other) to process that they’re definitely gonna get yelled at by Yavin IV medical and/or Hera for getting carried away

(Also ignore the continuity of Kallus having his bo-rifle here, I wanted to draw it, maybe he rebuilt it or stole it back from Thrawn lol)

Thanks for the suggestion, and it means so much to me that you enjoy my art!💕

Could not for the life of me get this drawing to photograph well, so kriff it here’s some alts⬇️⬇️

[msweebyness]

Class of Villainy Intro

What's up, guys? It's ya girl, Weeby, with a new project! If you remember the 'Title Sequence' that Sparky did for Creepsters, I'm doing those for our other AUs! Here's the first up, Class of Villainy! Enjoy! @imsparky2002 @artzychic27

(Instrumental of 'Ways to be Wicked' begins to play. The camera does a wide sweep over the dark skyline of Paris, before entering the doors of a Parisian fashion house. All of the mannequins are dressed in the furs of different animals.)

(The scene focuses on a teen girl with half-black, half-white hair, clad in a large, white fur coat, smiling cruelly at a cluster of dalmatian puppies locked in a cage, holding a pair of shears in her hands.)

*TITLE CARD: Marinette: Fashion Maven with a passion for furs*

(Marinette turns around to yell at two sisters of Asian descent who have just arrived, ordering them to get her more dogs. Socqueline and Fei roll their eyes but go to do as their employer ordered.

(The scene then changes to a palatial building, the fashion house of "The Sultan of Style", Gabriel Agreste. We see a teenaged boy with coiffed blonde hair and reptilian green eyes smiling smugly as he hypnotizes some of his father's employees with a staff that resembles a cobra, the brightly colored parrot on his shoulder squawking words of encouragement.)

*TITLE CARD: Adrien: Sinister Spellcaster with a hypnotic charm*

(The scene changes again, this time to show a dark alley. As two men in tailored suits walk by, a clawed hand reaches out and snatches their wallets without them noticing. The camera pans further into the alley, and we see a teen with a top hat, sharp canine teeth, and a flicking fox tail, grinning smugly as he rifles through the contents of the wallets.)

*TITLE CARD: Nino: Conniving conman with sticky, foxy fingers*

(Another scene change, we are now in a lab with potions and poisons of various colors bubbling over. A teenaged girl clad in large goggles and a white lab coat bears a maniacal grin as she holds up a vial of toxic pink liquid.)

*TITLE CARD: Alya: Sorceress Supreme with a penchant for potions*

(Alya rolls her eyes in exasperation as we hear a loud crash, and the camera pans over to a tall and muscular girl who is standing by a pile of shattered vials. Alya's sister, Nora.)

(The screen suddenly becomes pixelated, and we are transported to a video game world constructed entirely of candy. The shot shows us the finish line of a race track, which is crossed by a glittery, pink candy go kart, out of which steps a petite blonde, clad in a poofy candy dress, with a psychotically perky grin as she looks out at the crashed and smoking cars of the other racers.)

*TITLE CARD: Rose: Candy Queen of Sugar Rush, "Greatest Racer Ever"*

(The screen is engulfed in green flames, which change the scene to the throne room of a gothic castle, where a girl with large draconic horns, purple streaked bangs, and a silken black cloak smiles wickedly as she prepares to send a terrible curse out over the land with her glowing scepter.)

*TITLE CARD: Juleka: Mistress of All That is Evil, petty like you wouldn't believe*

(Juleka smiles fondly as she hears a sharp squawk, and a raven swoops into the room, landing in front of her. The raven then transforms into a boy with shaggy teal hair and a calmly malicious smile, who gives his sister a playful bow.)

*TITLE CARD: Luka: Music Master and Juleka's Eye in the Sky*

(The camera then exits the throne room through the window before plunging into the dark ocean. With seeming trepidation, we enter a dark sea cave, seeing miserable looking polyps along the floors. We enter a larger chamber and see a girl with pale purple skin and six black tentacles, cackling devilishly as she tends to a brew within her cauldron. She coos affectionately at her beloved eels as they curl around her arms.)

*TITLE CARD: Mylene: Charming Sea Witch with a knack for deals*

(With a coquettish giggle, Mylene summons a large bubble that she looks into, through which the scene changes to a dark, underground lair lit by blinking casino lights. A pair of dice rolls across a table, landing on snake eyes, before the camera pans up to reveal a huge, bulky teen with hollow eyes and skin made of dark burlap, grinning with pure malice as he turns his attention to the doors.)

*TITLE CARD: Ivan: A Gamblin' Man who'll scare your socks off!*

(The doors to the lair fly open as two children, one a fox hybrid wearing the mask of a devil, and the other a stuffy wearing an ominous witch mask, carrying a large sack that squirms and occasionally screams. We hear the sound of maniacal giggling, and a little girl with messy pigtails, hollowed out eyes, and dark purple burlap for skin darts into the room, leaping into her big brother's arms as they prepare to terrify his next victim.)

(The scene changes to what appears to be a hunting lodge, where a crowd is cheering as a very muscular and handsome young man lifts a bench with two girls sitting on it above his head. Smirking arrogantly, he takes in the praise of those around him.)

*TITLE CARD: Kim: Hotshot Hunter with the World's Biggest Ego*

(Perched on a countertop, a lovely young woman with freckles and a red pixie cut gazes at Kim adoringly, clapping with delight as she watches him show off his strength.)

*TITLE CARD: Ondine: Kim's 'Little Wife' to be (and biggest enabler)*

(The screen suddenly glitches out, before the scene changes to a cityscape being torn apart by a massive robot. At the helm of the terrifying weapon stands a boy with a sleek villain suit and his hair pulled back in dreads. He laughs maniacally as he directs his robot to knock down a skyscraper.)

*TITLE CARD: Max: Evil Tech Genius with a Super Grudge*

(The screen is suddenly slashed to shreds by a pair of unseen claws, and the scene shifts to a dense jungle. The trees tremble with a loud roar, and the camera pans to a girl with striped fur and wickedly sharp teeth, grinning menacingly as she crouches on a rock and prepares to pounce on an unsuspecting prey hybrid.)

*TITLE CARD: Alix: Queen of the Jungle and Predator Supremacist*

(The trees begin to waste away and die as the scene changes to a devastated savannah landscape, ridden with hyenas battling over kills. Perched on the highest rock is a boy with sharp claws and a scar over his right eye, grinning in amusement as he looks over the carnage, holding a small mouse by the tail as it attempts to run for its life.)

*TITLE CARD: Ismael: King of the Savannah with a killer scratch*

(The screen is suddenly painted red, before it clears and we hear a scream of "OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!". In a grove full of blood red roses, a young man with hair as red as the heart painted over his eye grins with absolute lunacy as he sends his battalion of card guards to apprehend a handful of terrified peasants.)

*TITLE CARD: Nathaniel: Mad monarch with a guillotine obsession*

(The camera zooms in on a mirror on the wall, which we travel through to another mirror, which is located in a dark and lavish throne room. In it is the reflection of a boy with jet-black hair and emerald-green eyes, smiling serenely as he proudly gazes upon himself.)

*TITLE CARD: Marc: Fairest of all the Lands and Poisons Expert*

(Marc reaches to caress the mirror brooch clasped to his lapel, where a young, raven-haired boy wearing a skull mask sits with a bored expression as he tosses daggers at the crystalline walls. This is Prince Kiran.)

(The scene shifts to the backroom of a dilapidated pawn shop, where a girl with ginger locks, wearing a garish purple coat admires a large diamond as she twirls it around in her fingers. Two large crocodiles are curled up at her feet, humming affectionately.)

*TITLE CARD: Sabrina: Diamond Enthusiast with a kidnapping rap sheet*

(With an ominous gust of wind, the scene changes to the interior of a large manor, long shadows cast from the musty velvet curtains. A girl with immaculate blonde curls, icy blue eyes, and a pristine yellow gown descends the stairs with her nose turned up. Servants cower in fear from her chilling glare.)

*TITLE CARD: Chloe: Woman of nobility and proud of it*

(The screen is covered with frost, which thaws to reveal a lavishly furnished sitting room, where a girl with golden locks tinted with pink, a frosty glare, and princely garb stands before a fireplace, glaring at a photograph of her family, which she then flicks into the leaping flames.)

*TITLE CARD: Zoe: 13th in Line with a dastardly plan for change*

(A flurry of official-looking documents suddenly covers the screen, before being swept away. The scene has changed to the city's capitol building, where a teen with dark, wooly hair and purpose in their step fingers the vial of nighthowler poison she plans to slip into its boss' coffee.)

*TITLE CARD: Cosette: Villain in Sheep's Clothing ready to take charge*

(With a poof of acrid purple smoke, the scene changes to a ramshackle little house, giddy and maniacal laughter echoing from within. From the window, we see a girl with wild blonde hair and eyes that hold sheer lunacy, shifting into various different animals as she fires indiscriminate hexes from her fingertips.)

*TITLE CARD: Aurore: Batty witch who loves the gruesome and grim*

(The camera suddenly plunges downward, going through the ground before showing a wide shot of the Underworld, Cerberus snarling as a boat floats down the river of souls. Within the boat stands a young goddess with a sullen expression and hair made of leaping blue flames. With a sneer, she fires a blast of flames at the souls pawing the sides of the hull.)

*TITLE CARD: Mireille: Goddess of the dead with a real anger problem*

(Two imps of the Underworld, the Kwamis of Pain and Panic, tremble with fear on the shores of the river as their mistress approaches them.)

(The screen is sliced in half by a sword with a jagged blade, and the scene changes to a fearsome army charging down a mountainside, led on horseback by a girl with inhuman black sclera and a vicious scowl, whipping her blade out of its sheath, raising it as she prepares to take another life.)

*TITLE CARD: Kagami: Genocidal General with a growing body count*

(The screen is suddenly overtaken by shadows, which clear to reveal a dark shop, the walls covered in ominous masks and dangerous talismans. Seated at the table and shuffling a deck of tarot cards, sits a tall teen with wild dark curls under a dapper top hat, laying three cards out on the table before them, smiling with a smooth assurance.)

*TITLE CARD: Denise: Hoodoo Doctor with charms to spare*

(The screen is suddenly consumed by flames, which recede to reveal the scene has changed to a large and ominously empty church. A young man with bright red hair and clad in religious robes, clutches the holy bible in one hand, while the other holds a torch that casts his face in unsettling shadows.)

*TITLE CARD: Simon: Religious Zealot with a holy love for evil*

(The scene shifts to the deck of a large pirate ship, the sail bearing the image of a leering Jolly Roger. Standing at the helm of the ship is an elegant young woman of Indian descent who wears a golden hook on her right hand. With an eager yet composed smile, she orders her crew to fire on another ship.)

*TITLE CARD: Reshma: Pirate-Captain-to-be with a love for pillage and plunder*

(The scene changes to a dark and dank street, where a figure lurks in the shadows. Stepping out of the dark and lowering the hood of her cloak, the figure is revealed to be a young woman with gray streaks in her blonde hair, caressing the blade of her dagger with a small smile.)

*TITLE CARD: Lacey: Cold-blooded killer obsessed with youth*

(The screen is covered by a shower of gold coins, and when they clear away, we are once again underwater, this time in a cave filled to the brim with all manner of treasure. Standing in the midst of the largest mound of gold is a teen with pincer-like claws and wearing more jewelry than should be possible.)

*TITLE CARD: Jean: Theatrical Crustacean with a Love for all Things Shiny*

(With his most charming smile, the crustacean presents a shining golden bracelet to a boy with the ears and tail of a wolf, who smiles giddily as he accepts it. Austin T, the corrupt young sheriff of Nottingham, and Jean's darling 'wolfy'.)

(With a clap of lightning, the scene changes to the oaken doors of a fortress-like school, with a sign that reads 'DuPont Reform Academy'. The doors ominously open on their own volition.)

(Standing just inside the door are two women with fairy wings, one with a bright and cheerful smile, and the other with crossed arms and a hard expression. Caline Bustier and Olga Mendeliev, awaiting the arrival of their dastardly students.)

(The camera pans over to a hallway, just off the main entrance. Clutching her books tightly to her chest, a girl with silky brown hair and doe-like green eyes walks quickly down the hall, keeping a lookout for the villains that seem to have it out for her.)

*TITLE CARD: Lila: Tender Heart who can Never Tell a Lie*

(The scene changes to a small table by a sunlit window, where a very prim young man with blonde hair and finely tailored dress clothes sips his tea with his pinky raised, before setting his cup down on the saucer and leaving for the main hall.)

*TITLE CARD: Felix: English Gentleman and Friend of the Fairies*

(The shot then changes to a different hallway, where a young man with a blonde ponytail, a guitar slung over his back, and a vacant expression wanders with his head high in the clouds...causing him to fall down the stairs.)

*TITLE CARD: Xavier: Spacey Dude who can hold a killer tune*

(With a loud bang, a door is kicked open by a girl of Native American descent with a fierce expression, while the robotic young woman by her side, her sister, shakes her head fondly before the two join their fellow heroes.)

*TITLE CARD: Jess & Aeon: Junior Officer Sisters who Kick Major Villain Butt*

(We hear a shout of fury, and a chair is flung across the room, the camera moving to the direction it originated from. We see a girl with three rows of sharp teeth, bared in a fierce scowl as she stands on guard for the villains.)

*TITLE CARD: Missy: Heroic shark with Bite and Bark*

(Peeking out from behind a pillar, sending off sparks with nervous energy, is a boy with smooth, scaly skin, and a twitching ghost eye. Beckoned by Missy, he joins the other heroes.)

*TITLE CARD: Jesse: Anxious Eel with an electric side*

(The heroes all start and take defensive positions as the doors slam open, allowing ominous green mist to pour into the room. The villains then enter the school, grinning malevolently. Coming together as a group, they all give maniacal evil laughter before the words "Class of Villainy" appear on the screen in a flash of green flames. The screen then goes to black.)

Time to EEEEVIIIL! Leave thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[cosmicanamnesis]

he tastes like chocolate pt. 8

[part 1] [part 7] [part 9] [read on ao3]

December 31st, 12 hours to midnight

The first thing Steve did once he was home was shower, and proceed to spend a totally reasonable amount of time, shut up Robin fixing his hair before standing in front of his closet staring at his clothes.

Shit.

He really did dress like that all the time, huh?

In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have cared. But this was Eddie, and his metal band’s presumably also metal friends. If he went dressed like normal, they’d tear him apart, he just knew it. 

So he put on something comfortable and did what he did best: asked Robin for help.

“Steve!” Chrissy yelled as he came into the Waystation, smiling brightly. “Why do we let Robin cover your shifts? She’s a terror in the morning.”

Steve laughed as he came up to the counter and Chrissy started making him a drink. Robin came out of the back, decidedly not as chipper or peppy as her coworker.

“Two more hours and I can go home,” she muttered to herself. “What’s up, dingus?” She leaned on one side of the pickup counter while Steve leaned against the other.

“When you come home, I need you to help me find something to wear.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she asked, gesturing to the bright yellow pullover peeking out under his coat.

“I look like a tool is what’s wrong with it. C’mon, Rob, work with me here,” Steve groaned, leaning his head back. Chrissy giggled, sidling up next to Robin to slide Steve his coffee. “Thanks, Chris.”

“Of course. I don’t think you look like a tool,” she said, bending down to rest her elbows on the counter, chin cradled in her hands. “I like that sweater, it looks good on you. Brings out the green in your eyes.”

“Yeah, well, you guys have seen how Eddie dresses.”

“You don’t own anything like what Eddie wears,” Robin scoffed. Steve nodded, eyes wide, gesturing at her while he sipped his drink as if to say that’s exactly my point. She narrowed her eyes at him, looking him up and down as she thought, drumming her fingers against the counter.

“No, I asked him what I should wear, and he said, basically, anything other than what I wear to work. Actually, no, he specifically said something that would get me written up if I wore it here.”

“Well, that’s not a very high bar to clear,” Chrissy giggled.

“Oh, Chris, trust me, he looks like this all the time. He doesn’t have anything that would get him written up- OH!” Suddenly Robin’s face lit up. “But I do!”

“Robin, I appreciate the thought but I’m like, twice your size.”

“Yeah, Robbie, he’s not gonna fit in your clothes.”

“No, trust me, you’ll fit. Just, wait for me to get home, okay?” They were abruptly cut off when the door chimed and a group of college girls walked in. Chrissy immediately rushed to the front of the counter, leaving Steve and Robin to finish their conversation. Immediately the pair leaned in closer to each other.

“You’re gonna make me wear your pajamas, aren’t you?” Steve asked. The only clothes Robin had that might fit him were the oversized pajama shirts she insisted on wearing without pants around the house.

“They’re normal shirts, Steve, I just wear them as pajamas. I’ll be home in a bit. Go eat something. Preen. Style your hair again.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Steve ran a hand through his hair, feeling for anything out of place. Robin rolled her eyes.

“Nothing, you goof. Go home.” She gave him a loving but forceful tap on the forehead before stepping away to help Chrissy make drinks.

So home he went and there he waited, rifling through every article of clothing he owned three or seven times, trying to save himself from the fate of having to wear Robin’s pajamas, to no avail.

Robin came home and before he knew it he was sitting on her bed while she rummaged through her own clothes, trying not to think about what she and Vickie may have gotten up to in that bed the night before.

Suddenly, shirts came flying at him. Most of them were band tee shirts, and at least Robin had the decency to hand him the ones with bands he might at least be able to name a couple songs by so he wouldn’t make a total jackass of himself.

“Pick one. They’re all the same size, so any of them should fit,” Robin said, plopping down in her desk chair, spinning lazily back and forth while Steve examined the shirts.

“Uh… This one, I guess?”

“Green Day? Are you sure?”

“What’s wrong with Green Day?”

“I mean, nothing really, just historically like… Punks and metalheads… Ehh.” Robin grimaced, rocking her head side to side. Steve got the message. Maybe not the wisest decision.

“Well, why’d you throw it at me, then, genius?” Steve put the shirt down and grabbed a different one. “I don’t think, what is this, Fleetwood Mac is gonna fly at the metal band house show.”

“Guess that leaves Miss Joan Jett, then. Or Pearl Jam, but,” Robin shrugged and laced her fingers together behind her head.

“Nah, Joan Jett’s cool.” Steve sorted through for the shirt, the only white one in the pile of black.

“Hey, do you still have those pants you ordered online?”

“Uh… The black ones? Maybe, why?”

“Well, they were the right size, weren’t they? Just the wrong style?”

“Yeah, I mean, if by right size you mean tighter than hell, sure.”

“Exactly. You should wear ‘em.”

Steve sighed. He understood what she was getting at. Tight pants, rock band tee shirt, etc., he’d meet all the requirements of the genre and also, with any luck, Eddie would… Whatever. He took the shirt back to his room and dug through his closet to see if the bag of stuff he’d meant to donate was still in there somewhere.

It was.

Because of course it fucking was.

Robin came in after him a moment later while he changed, carrying another armful of clothes.

“Okay, and these,” she said, dumping them in a heap on his bed. “Are not all the same size, so I have no idea if they’ll fit you, but if one of them does, I think it’d tie the whole look together.”

Steve glanced over the pile. Plaid button downs, all of them, in a few different colors. Once he managed to wrestle the jeans on, he grabbed a flannel at random.

The red one was too small in the arms, the white one was too tight across the shoulders, the blue one somehow managed to be both too big and too small at the same time.

“Moment of truth,” Robin said from her place on his bed, handing him the green and black plaid shirt, the last one she had. Steve shrugged it on.

“Sleeves are too short,” he said, stretching his arms out.

“Does it feel okay everywhere else though?” Steve moved in it a bit, rolling his shoulders, reaching up over his head.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Wonderful! Just roll the sleeves up, no one’ll notice!”

Steve shrugged and unbuttoned the cuffs of the shirt, looking at himself in the mirror on the back of his door as he rolled up the sleeves. Might not get him written up at work, but it sure didn’t look like anything else he ever wore.

“Holy shit, Steve,” Robin said, leaning forward. He turned his attention back to her. “You look like a real person!”

“Oh, fuck off,” he said, rolling his eyes and she burst into a fit of giggles.

“I’m kidding! It looks good. Here, let me take a picture to send to Chrissy,” Robin smiled, pulling out her phone. Steve sighed and looked back at the mirror, fussing with his hair.

“Alright, do your worst,” he said, turning back to her, looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

“Oh, I already took it,” Robin shook her head, quickly typing on her phone. “You’re ridiculously photogenic, Steve, you look best in candids.”

“Well, at least show it to me before you send it,” Steve pleaded, coming around to kneel on the bed behind her. She tucked her phone close to her chest to keep him from looking.

“Fuck off, Chrissy has seen you explode whipped cream all over yourself, what are you worried about?”

“Can a man not want to see his own picture?”

“I’ll just send it to you, too,” Robin pushed his forehead, shoving him away from her. “There, dingus, read it and weep or something. Chrissy says you look hot, by the way.”

Steve heard his phone buzz on the nightstand and got up to look. In Robin’s defense, it was a pretty nice picture. Might make it his profile picture or something. He saved the photo and moved to slip his phone into his pocket, but changed his mind at the last minute.

Might as well get Eddie's opinion, too.

December 31st, 8 hours to midnight

Eddie stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, wet curls dripping down his back, and turned the volume down on his phone. Wayne was asleep, and as much as he loved his nephew, Eddie knew he would only put up with so much Dio.

Once he was back in the isolation of his bedroom, as he turned the volume back up, he noticed a text from Steve buried amongst the group chat notifications. It looked like Lucas and Gareth were having a heated debate about fireworks, and good god Eddie couldn't care less.

He opened Steve's text and… Oh. He could feel the blush creep over his whole body. He liked how Steve looked regularly, the polo shirts were goofy but they suited him, but suddenly he looked more like the rest of Eddie's friends and that suited him, too. Eddie could only stare, the original mission of getting dressed himself all but forgotten.

He saved the picture and sent it to Barb.

B:

hes gonna be the death of me

Are you with him right now?

no he just sent this to me

asked if that was an appropriate outfit for the party tonight

Is it?

yes but more importantly he is really testing my self control

I'm sure you'll be fine. When did he start wearing glasses?

huh. dunno. never seen him wear them before

my coffee guy<;3:

Look okay to you?

definitely. since when do you wear glasses?

Oh, god damn it. Do me a favor and pretend you didn't see those.

why? i like them

They look stupid, and my eyesight really isn't that bad. I can go without.

they look nice. you should wear them tonight

by the way im gonna be there early to pick you up. gareth wants me at the party early to actually sound check before the show

Well, I'm ready whenever I guess.

ill let you know when i get there

At that moment, Eddie became very aware of the fact that he was still wearing nothing but a towel. He sighed and tossed his phone on the bed, where it stayed blaring Metallica and Iron Maiden while Eddie got dressed in his "concert clothes," Jeff always called them. 

Eddie had three outfits that he cycled through for their shows, ranging from low effort to entirely over the top. The New Year's house show with his D&D group ranked in the low effort category. Ripped jeans and a black shirt that had the sleeves cut off and the sides slit open, with Corroded Coffin bleach-painted across the chest. Y'know, in case anybody forgot the name of the band. His other outfits were more elaborate, more leather, more chains. But this was a house party. 

A house party he was bringing Steve to.

He could class it up a bit, he supposed.

December 31st, 6.5 hours to midnight

"Okay, I gotta go catch the bus if I want to be at Dusty's party on time," Robin said, clipping new earrings in as she came into the living room to hug Steve goodbye. He paused his show and stood as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I love you, have fun tonight, I'll see you tomorrow." She pressed a kiss to his cheek before letting him go. He fell back against the arm of the couch, watching her frantically tie her shoes and pull her coat on.

"I love you too, be safe. Send me lots of pictures and give the nerds my love."

"Will do!" Robin gave him a thumbs up and rushed out the door, leaving Steve by himself to anxiously wait for Eddie.

He didn't have to wait long.

Not ten minutes after Robin left, Steve felt his phone buzz with a text from Eddie that just read, here. Steve shot a quick text back and grabbed his own coat, doing a quick pocket check to make sure he had everything. Wallet, keys, phone charger wrapped up and tucked into the secret inside pocket of the bomber jacket. Lens cloth for the glasses he was begrudgingly wearing, because Eddie said they looked nice, and he wanted Eddie to think he looked nice.

He swallowed his anxiety and headed downstairs.

Eddie was waiting for him, not in the parking lot across the street, but directly in front of his building, and not in his van, but on a… motorcycle? Some vintage Harley that definitely wasn't at their trailer the night before.

“What the hell?” Steve laughed as Eddie smiled at him, one foot on the curb to keep the bike upright. “Where did this come from?”

Eddie held a helmet out to him. “Remember when you asked me what Alexei said to me?” Steve nodded, taking the helmet, trying to puzzle out how to wear the helmet and his glasses at the same time. “He asked if I still wanted to borrow his bike.”

“And uh. Why are we borrowing your weird neighbor’s motorcycle?”

“We can park it in the yard,” Eddie shrugged.

Steve paused, taking in the situation before him, and tucked his glasses into the secret inside pocket of this coat.

"Do I just… get on behind you?" Steve asked, holding the extra helmet gingerly in his hand.

"Yeah," Eddie laughed, and flipped his visor down. Steve put the helmet on, praying for his hair, and kicked a leg up over the bike. “Ready, sweetheart?” Steve wasn’t sure he heard Eddie right, but he nodded anyway. "Great. Hang onto me.”

When Steve hesitated, Eddie laughed and grabbed Steve’s hand, pulling it around Eddie’s waist. That seemed to jolt Steve out of whatever shock he’d gotten stuck in, and he wrapped his other arm around Eddie and held on tight as they took off up the road.

Steve had never been on a motorcycle. He'd driven a convertible before, and it was both the coolest and least safe he'd ever felt in a car. This was completely different. Riding behind Eddie, arms around his waist like he'd fly off the back if he let go, Steve felt a wild kind of freedom. If only his parents could see him now, he thought.

He could barely appreciate the view of the city blurring past before Eddie was pulling into a driveway. Deep down, Steve almost wished the ride would take longer, just so he would have an excuse to keep holding onto Eddie. But as he pulled the helmet off and took in his surroundings, he realized it wasn't as unfamiliar as he'd expected. Eddie pushed the kickstand down and pulled his own helmet off, shaking out his hair as Steve took in the sight of the house he’d been in a hundred times before.

"Wait, hang on-" 

"Eddie!" Whatever Steve was about to say was interrupted by a kid with fluffy hair welcoming Eddie into the garage. Steve recognized him from the picture on Eddie's fridge of the sparkler fight.

"Steve?" A familiar voice called. 

Dustin was leaning against a speaker, breathing heavily like he had carried it himself, looking as confused as Steve felt.

Dustin, Steve, and Eddie all glanced quickly between each other, realization setting in. The other shoe dropped as they all spoke in confused unison:

"You two know each other?"

-------

AAAAAAAA here it is !!!! this chapter comes with art which i will link [here] once it's posted!!!

tagging: @original-cypher @avacrebs @dangdirtydemons @rainydays35 @changenamelater @phantypurple @alienace @renaissan-vvitch @krazyperson @steddiereid @kittsu-makes-glass @i-must-potato @jaywhohasthegay @henderdads @mightbeasleep @straight4joekeery @sharingisntkaren @micheledawn1975 @thehumblefigtree @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @potentialheartofdarkness @dreammetheworld08 @steveisabicon @biatcgh @alittlegreyfish @r0binscript @estrellami-1 @shitnshit

[miracleweaponhunt]

Miracle Weapon Hunt Chapter 61: A Gem of a Town

The clouds passed them as the old ship sunk through the sky. Roxanne tried clinging onto something, eventually choosing what was left of the chains on the walls. Julian and Cassandra clung to each other in a desperate attempt to hold onto anything. Xander was still furious, bashing the shield against anything he could for some kind of relief. He looked out the window to see dragons soaring through the sky, no two the same colour. As they descended further, trees larger than anything on the surface were made visible, each with thick vines connecting them. And finally, murkiness. A bright yellow murkiness covered the ship, brown specks dotting the window, until they emerged out of it. The door was on the underside of the landing site, so opening it wasn't an option. Xander tried smashing the window with the shield, but the damn window wasn't giving a dent.

"Is everyone alive?" Roxanne yelled after the ship stopped moving.

"I am." Julian nodded through a spinning head and pained stomach.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm alive." Cassandra sighed.

They stayed at the bottom of the ship, watching Xander hang onto the wall through what seemed to be sheer anger, endlessly bashing away at the window, while the other three had to avoid the blood pouring out of where his arm once was.

"You think you could try breaking the window?" Roxanne asked.

"I…I don't want to use the weapons anymore." Cassandra whispered.

Julian gave Roxanne a concerned look, before turning back to Cassandra.

"Uh…something happen on the ship?" Julian asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Cassandra took a deep breath.

"I'm Chelic's niece." She whispered.

The words felt like vomit to her. And as she faced her friends, Julian just shrugged.

"Okay? Cassandra, we've been over this. Just because you were connected to them at some point doesn't mean you should let it define you."

The two embraced with a casual kiss. When it was done, Roxanne hugged both of them.

"Okay, I'm glad you reunited, but maybe we could come up with a way out of this thing?" Xander asked.

"I mean, is it even safe out there?" Roxanne asked. "What are the chances of something like a deadly creature of some kind?"

"Or the place in general is poisoned." Julian added.

"Well, what do you suggest we do?" Xander yelled.

As he turned to try against the window again, a hand pressed against it. Xander jumped back, and the others hid behind him. The ship began to move, and they felt it hit solid land. The door opened, and two people were in front of them.

Neither of the dark skinned individuals said anything. The taller one was a slender woman in an oversized blue jacket and baggy trousers with military jeans, and her hair was a simple buzz cut.

The shorter man behind her was a boy in a red jacket and trousers made by attaching extra leg fabric to a pair of old shorts, with his hair styled in a man-bun alongside some patchy facial hair. Both were wearing goggles and necklaces similar to Roxanne. The girl had a red gem in hers, and the boy had a white one.

The girl held a rifle in her hands, which she held slightly higher than she normally would, perhaps as a subtle suggestion not to mess with her. The guy stood behind her with arms crossed, sizing up the situation.

"Did you come from the sky?" The woman asked slowly.

"Correct." Julian said from inside. "We got thrown out."

"Thrown out?" The man asked."

"Well, it was an accident on…everyone's part, but point is, we're stuck here."

The two looked to each other. The guy shrugged.

"Code still applies, right?"

The girl nodded, so the man stepped in front.

"Okay. We got a policy of not leaving any humans behind, so now you're a part of our family!"

"Yes, that. Mind if we guide you back to our city?"

"Well, it's not like we have much of a choice." Xander said, stepping out. Julian and Cassandra stepped out, and Roxanne was the last to leave. The two natives took a discreet glance at her chest, exchanging a discreet look at each other.

"Excuse me, is something off?" Roxanne asked.

"It's nothing, we were just making sure nobody else was in there." The guy responded with a dismissive hand wave.

In front of them was a deep jungle. Trees taller than anything any of the main four had ever seen stretched out and blotted out the clear blue sky. The ground was brown and wet, and they sank into it a little with each step. Roxanne's leg already wasn't the best, so she was constantly catching herself while trying not to trip. This failed, and she felt her foot get caught in something and almost fell to the ground. The guy caught her, helping her back on her feet.

"You okay?" He asked. Their eyes met, and Roxanne got a glance into his. Eyes as deep a brown as a particularly well made chocolate bar. Like, the type she saw stars eat in movies for the product placement that was way too expensive for chocolate.

And as Roxanne looked into his eyes, she felt…nothing.

"Yes, I'm fine. Please let me go."

The man let her back on her feet, and she kept going.

"Just watch out, and you'll stay standing." The girl said without turning back. "It shouldn't be that hard."

"Eh, lay off em." The guy responded, gazing at the sky. "I'm guessing their sky ships all have the most even flooring at all times."

"Hey, I fell down enough stairs to say otherwise." Julian replied, wiping fresh dirt off his face. "But otherwise yes."

"You get used to it quicker than you think." The guy replied. "I mean, I'm not even supposed to be out here. Just felt like taking a stroll!"

"What do you usually do?" Cassandra asked.

"Doctor. But that gets stuffy. And depressing. So sometimes you gotta grab a moment and let the wind flow through you!"

Suddenly, footsteps were heard through the trees above them, and a blur leapt below. It looked like a dragon, only a little more sleek, a little more moist, and with much smaller wings. It snarled and leapt at Xander, who blocked it with his shield. The creature expanded its wings to scare him off, but Xander just cut its neck with a single slice to the neck.

"Yo, nice one!" The man yelled, seemingly unfazed by the attack, picking up the body and draping it over his shoulder.

"Wyvern wings." He said casually. "You able to get em up there?"

"Nope." Cassandra said.

"Yeah, checks out. Pretty sure we only started eating them after you took off and they were deemed too tough beforehand. But boil the wings at the right temperature with some mint sauce and lake salt. That's just a good meal, I don't know what people were thinking back then!"

"I'll let them know we got something." The girl said, taking out a phone to text with.

"Oh hey, you guys have phone service down here." Julian noticed.

"It's limited, but it works." The guy shrugged.

After what felt like an eternity of trapsing through a muddy path, the city lay before them. It seemed like once abandoned buildings first reclaimed by nature, then the remaining humans made their attempt to reclaim it back, with both parties agreeing on a middle ground. Some of the vines gathered to connect to the nearby trees, but those had nets attached, probably to avoid more wyvern attacks. The group walked past the two guards in front of the cities main gate, dressed in leather and guns, as they stepped past and nodded at everyone who passed them.

"Miss Ngozi, Mr. Kwadwo." The left guard said calmly.

"Sup." The man, presumably Kwadwo, said back with a friendly wave.

Inside the city was people going about their day. In the centre was an unused fountain, with a girl sitting by it playing a worn down violin. A man sat next to her eating a sandwich, passing discreet glances at the girl. Children ran through the street and stole food left in shop windows, getting away before any owners could catch them. Overall, people of all races and ages seemed to be relaxing and soaking in the day. But Roxanne noticed that everyone was wearing a necklace. The violinist had a green gem while the man eating had a blue one.

"And, welcome to trampstown." Kwadwo said calmly. "First off, mind if I take you to the hospital? Just a check up for most of you."

"Most of us?" Xander asked.

"Yeah, I'm assuming that you had an arm a few hours ago." He said, wincing at the stump. "So you'll probably need a blood transfusion. Don't worry, we'll find a donor before more damage can be caused."

"So I can leave them with you?" Ngozi asked.

"Yeah, I got it. Gotta clock back in, anyway."

The six made their way through the city, with a couple people taking a glance at Roxanne, staring at her necklace. And when Roxanne noticed, nobody was wearing a purple gem.

"Hey, is something up with purple gems?" Roxanne asked.

"Eh, probably. I think they had a meaning in the olden days, but I slept through that history class."

"So the gems have meanings?"

"Oh, totally. I have a white one, which means I work in the medical field. Green means you're an artist, red means you're a scout. It's just convenient to know where someone stands, you know?"

"Eh, guess that makes sense." Julian nodded. He looked over to see Xander, looking ready to fire back at this system, but in the end he stayed silent. Maybe the Legion used something similar and they were all idiots, he'd have to think about it later.

The hospital's interior looked like one in the skies, but with slightly worse lighting. The four were all placed in a series of empty beds. Kwadwo took swabs from all of them, to see if they were related to anyone here. They all sat in an awkward silence. They tried finding something to talk about, but every time somebody tried, it would stop fairly quickly.

After what felt like an eternity, a nurse walked into the room.

"Excuse me, Cassandra? There's someone waiting to see you."

A pale woman in a white shirt and trousers came in after her. Her hair was a rosy blonde, and her eyes a deep ocean blue. And before Cassandra could think, she knew. She stuttered to get the words out, her mouth being filled with as many useless words as her eyes were filling with tears. But eventually, she managed to let one slip out.

"Mom?!"

[montgomery-cannon]

the capture part 1 of 2

It was a lesson that was drilled into him starting day one in the Academy: all luck runs out, so make sure your Games are as short and efficient as possible. Don't trust luck, because the Gamemakers will bend it. Don't trust a good feeling, because it will be exploited. And whatever you do - don't trust your allies, because only one of you will ultimately leave the Arena alive.

After Victory, though, Montgomery has learned that not all lessons meant for the Arena applied to life. Trust, in particular, was one that he had to relearn the definition of. It no longer had the self serving negativity attached to it from childhood. No - people sought out trust in each other. To trust someone was to love them, and to be trusted was to be loved.

After Montgomery emerged Victorious from the Arena, trust had become loyalty.

It didn't surprise him when Cain didn't come back after his round of raiding. It disappointed him, because in his heart he knew where Cain had gone. He hadn't gone to the loyalist sector, and he hadn't been killed. Monty knew where Cain had gone.

Then for a while it was just him and Denver, until she, too, vanished. It wasn't like Cain, though - she came back to him. Battered and broken, to be sure, but she came back. However, luck would always run out and Denver found her way back to the other side.

So then it was just him. Montgomery Cannon, alone in the gay club with empty bottles of alcohol and broken spotlights. Utterly and painfully alone. He could hear the rebels, every night, militaristic. Sweeping in, checking, securing. But he couldn't leave. He had waited too long for Denver to come back. Too much time hoping Cain might as well.

But instead it was the rebels who came. Monty had time to prepare, of course, but he had been existing in a drunken stupor for a bit longer than he should have. He was in a twilight of restless half-sleep when he heard the crunch of boots in the entryway. But he was prepared. The scouting parties were always groups of three, lightly armed. At this point, after so many weeks, they were getting lax, sloppy. Most of the loyalists had already fled or been rounded up, so risk was low. Or so they thought.

The sound snapped Monty to his senses - or, as much sense as he could while still hung over. He snatched up the only weapon he could find: a long, hefty glass bottle, intentionally left full to add weight. All luck ran out eventually, but Monty's held on for just long enough.

He pressed his back against a wall, bottle at the ready, prepped at a door frame. He closed his eyes and steadied his breath, listening intently. One set of footsteps. Perfect. They had gotten sloppy. They had split up. Monty may not have known where the other two were, but he knew where this one was - and that's all that mattered at the moment. One at a time, patiently. The way he had been trained.

He slowly opened his eyes to see the muzzle of a rifle slowly peeking through the doorway, chest height. The footsteps slowed, clearly wary about stepping into an unknown room. Fine. Monty could wait. The muzzle became the body of a gun, became the hands of a soldier, became the wrists, the arm, the elbow, slowly creeping in. And still Monty stayed plastered to the wall, bottle raised.

This wasn't the Arena anymore. There were no bonus points for style, no carrot at the end of the stick for a show well performed. This was real. This was life. So Monty fought the trained urges - the urge to jump, to grab the gun, to make a spectacle of things. Instead he waited. He waited. He waited.

The rebel finally showed his head. A combat helmet, visor up. That would be his mistake. The moment his face cleared the doorway, Monty swung. The bottle thudded down on his head and the rebel yelled in surprise. But it was quickly followed by a bottle to the face as Monty expertly flipped the weapon and swung again. Monty knew his training, and he knew exactly what the hollow crunch meant for the man's nose. He also knew he only had moments before the other two would converge. All luck ran out, so keep things efficient.

The man stumbled to his knees, and Monty seized the moment to kick him between the shoulder blades to the ground. "HEY!" the rebel bellowed. "HEY, IN HERE!" But Monty didn't need to respond. He threw himself down, bashing the bottle again against the man's head.

The rebel rolled, and Monty's weapon smashed against the floor, shooting shards of glass across the tiles. The small pieces caught the low, multicolored lights, throwing small rainbows around the room. It could have been just like the old times, where hot women and desperate men thronged in the disco lights. Monty could almost hear the pulsing music, feel the melting makeup on his face. There was something relaxing about it, almost, the way he felt falling on top of this man. Something old, something familiar. A wild grin spread across his face as he grabbed the man by the collar, hoisting him up and hugging him close to his chest.

"HEY!" the man bellowed, as best he could. "GREYSON! NELLIE!" Monty couldn't stop the reckless chuckle in his throat. But efficiency was the name of the game. The man's arms flailed, caught in the strap of the rifle. What should have been a weapon, a defense was now a liability - something too cumbersome to be of use, entangling his limbs.

Monty, wrapped around the man, looked up in time to see another muzzle across the room. "HEY," came the barked order. "LET HIM -"

Efficiency. The broken bottle, once a club, was now a dagger. Monty lashed up, digging the jagged points deep into the man's neck. Instantly, the rebel was gurgling, spilling glorious red over Monty's hand. The warning shot that followed told Monty everything he needed to know: these were untrained, idiotic scouts. The bullet thudded into the bulletproof chest of the man he held in front of him - if she had been aiming for Monty, she had missed terribly. If she had been trained, she wouldn't have shot at all.

"Holy shit..." Nellie muttered. "GREYSON!" A second person, armed only with a small pistol, appeared over he shoulder. "Greyson... is that..."

Greyson lifted his gun warily, taking a step in towards Monty and the dying rebel. Monty snarled like a wild cat, one hand reaching for the butt of the rebel's rifle.

"Montgomery Cannon," Greyson called, the awe in his voice evident. If this had been the old times, with music and makeup, Monty would have smiled wide, reaching out with a welcoming hand. But now he found himself in a different world, if the same place. His hand found the trigger of the rifle, if haphazardly, and he attempted to pull the trigger. A spray of bullets thudded into the floor, shattering more tile but ultimately doing nothing.

"We're bringing you in, Montgomery," Nellie called, standing back with her rifle up.

"Bringing him in?!" Greyson countered, his pistol also trained on the snarling Victor. "He killed Kilo! We're not bringing him in!" He stepped forward again, clearly unable to get a clean line of sight on Monty.

"Order are orders, Greyson. Montgomery Cannon, by the authority of Terra Caucus, we place you under arrest." The more tremble her voice took on, the wider Monty's smile grew. Greyson snarled himself, taking another step in.

"I'm willing to make it look like an accident," Greyson growled. "There's no redeeming some of these people."

"You take that shot," Nellie replied, trying to keep her own line of sight open, "and I put a bullet in your back, Greyson. Orders. Are. Orders. Do anything else, and you're no better than those people who caused all this."

"Just so you know," Monty called out, bringing himself to a crouch, his arm still wrapped around the body shield he had in his possession. "I haven't killed Kilo. Yet." His hand flashed up, pressing the shattered bottle deep into Kilo's neck. The man gasped and gurgled, his body involuntarily using its remaining energy to cry out in pain.

With the shield spent, Monty lunged forward. It should have been a perfect moment - Monty, knowing his limits, reaching Greyson in a single bound. The rebel, surprised, falling. But Monty's luck was truly running out. Whether it was the alcohol still in his system, or the shattered glass kaleidoscoping across the room, or the universe finally spinning against him, Monty was off. His foot caught in something - the strap of the rifle, perhaps, and rather than springing forward like a panther, he tripped and stumbled forward.

Greyson, still surprised, yelped - and the gun went off. Monty felt the bullet, ill-aimed as it was, slice into his calf. But the momentum was already enough, and Nellie was already screaming admonishments at Greyson. Monty thudded into the man, his shoulder connecting with hips, and slammed him against the wall. The shock loosened the pistol from his hand, and it fell tantalizingly close to Monty's foot.

Of course, there was only a moment to decide, and Monty swooped for it. His hand closed around the hilt and he fired, prematurely, unable to get the nose of the gun at a useful angle. Then came the pain. Greyson had managed to orient himself and slam the heel of his combat boot down on Monty's leg, where a bright red circle proved to be a useful target.

Monty roared, spun to point the gun at Greyson, and pulled the trigger again, but nothing happened. Out of bullets. The moment was enough for Greyson, who threw himself forward to pummel a fist into Monty's face. The gun spun out of his hand, useless in the rainbow scatter.

"GREYSON!" Nellie called out to no avail. Monty and Greyson were in it now, swapping blows. Monty brought his good leg up, catching the other in the crotch before throwing an elbow into his sternum. Greyson, for his part, flopped off of Monty, but retaliated with a quick punch to the jaw which left Monty's vision swimming. As Greyson tried to scramble to his feet, Monty hooked his hand around his ankle and pulled, sending Greyson's face slamming back to the ground.

"HELP ME, NELLIE!" he shouted, spitting blood with his words. Greyson lashed out with a kick, and Monty roared as his fingers were crushed underneath the boot. No. This couldn't be. Greyson kicked out again, and it caught Monty in the shoulder, giving the rebel enough space to scramble backwards.

"Stand down, Greyson," came the barked order. But Greyson sprung to his feet, and as Monty pulled himself into a low crouch, poised to spring again, Greyson took one calculated step forward and kicked, crashing his foot into Monty's jaw. With a yelp, Monty was thrown heavily into the wall, his vision flashing pure white in shock.

It was all Greyson needed. He launched forward again, connecting a kick to Monty's ribs. Monty's training was good enough to know exactly what that crack meant, and what the next one meant as Greyson kicked again. With a moan, Monty threw an arm up over his head just in time for Greyson's kick to shatter several bones in his wrist - but better that than his face.

Monty pulled his body to the side, rolling over to try to protect what he could. This only gave Greyson new targets, and he stomped down on Monty's fresh ribs, hips, and spine. He was just launching a kick to the back of Monty's head when Nellie finally grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back.

"We're bringing him in," she commanded. "Take a walk, Greyson." She roughly pulled the rebel back, shoving him towards the open door. With a disgusted snarl, Greyson sulked away.

Nellie stepped forward, her rifle in a defensive position across her chest. "Montgomery Cannon, under authority of Terra Caucus, I place you under arrest."

Monty rolled back over, groaning in pain, to look up at his would be captor. His face was smeared in bright red blood, his mouth torn and pulled into a terrifying snarl. He looked at her for a moment, then spat a wad of viscera and blood at her feet. "Fuck you," he growled.

Nellie let a heavy sigh fall out of her throat. She gently kneeled beside him, pushing her rifle to a more casual position on her back. "Oh, Cannon," she said gently, taking his face in her hand and giving it a squeeze. "I'm getting a promotion for this one. It's the only reason I'm going to make sure you get back to prison alive." She took a moment to behold the great Montgomery Cannon, then spat in his face.

Monty didn't have time to recognize the insult before she slammed his head against the ground, knocking him fully out. Montgomery Cannon, finally, laid low by rebels.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

So I'm outside watering some of my plants yesterday evening a little after 8 p.m. I've got on my headphones (the huge 70's era type, my favorite style as they cover the entire ear) and it's plugged into my phone so I can listen to a podcast. I hear nothing except the podcast… then I catch movement to my left and a sheriff's deputy in body armor with a rifle in his hands run past me. A second and a third run past me on the right. I just stand there watering for a second, thinking "What in the world….?" I turn around and look behind me, there's a car hemmed in by multiple sheriff's vehicles on the road in front of the house, lights flashing and a bald Asian guy in cuffs on the asphalt. The three officers that ran past me plunge headlong into the honeysuckle and start yelling, a second later they yank a second Asian guy that I never even saw run past me from those bushes.

I dropped the hose and go inside the house without saying a word. Jake's like "You water the plants?" I nodded. "Yep. How're things going in here? There's deputies outside pulling gangsters out of our honeysuckle."

Jake laughed. He thought I was joking. So I opened the living room curtains so he could see them too.

Fresno is getting too close. I though 16 or so miles was a good buffer area. Apparently not. And I can't believe I heard none of that before people were literally running past me.

[vincentv90]

Finding you again

A Borderlands self indulgent fanfic.

A rewrite is going to be necessary but enjoy nontheless!

That fucking voice, that god damn ear grating narcissist voice blaring over the intercoms. Handsome Jack. That fucking bastard. Even after 7 years, he haunts everyone.

Why me? I asked myself mentally. I helped him on Elpis, not knowing anything about him other than him being an employee at Hyperion. He was tracking enemies of a different corporation, who were tearing the place apart for the vault. If I knew what was coming in the near future I wouldn't of helped. None of this would be my fault.

As a vault hunter I've come across many interesting characters, fought so many people looking to backstab me, even fought monsters with the strength of a God. But this encounter changed me.

Even know, I wish I could've done something different. Know I found myself stuck in the Handsome Jackpot, Handsome Jack's casino. I wasn't even searching for it. My ship got dragged in by the place, and once entering, no one could leave. Especially since Jack was dead. My life was over, I thought, while pacing back and forth in one of the many casino area's that resided in the place. Slot machines whirring and playing the same music and audio messages playing over and over.

I sighed, walking out of the place to try to find any source of life that wasn't the Service bots milling around the place. Plenty of dead bodies, bloodstains and graffiti littered the place the more I walked. How long were people trapped when the casino first shut down?

Ignoring Handsome Jack's face plastered in gold as I walked further in, focusing more on the sounds of a struggle. Yelling and guns being fired were heard as I walked through a hallway into an open area.

Bandits were circling what looked like an employee maintenance area, banging on the door and yelling obsinities. I crouched down, fumbling for my echo device, switching frequencies to see if there was any signs of life.

"Hello?!?!? Is anyone there?" A voice asked, clearly panicked. "Please help me!!!!!!!" The voice continued, higher pitched. It sounded familiar.

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts as I grabbed my sniper rifle. Looking down the sights I held my breath before pulling the trigger, the bullet piercing through a bandits skull, body crumpling. His companions jumped back, guns drawed and itching to kill. I grabbed my smg before leaving the cover of the hallway and open fired on everyone else.

Minutes passed, before the final enemy fell. It was silent. I waited for a sign of life, not knowing if the person in the echo call was dead or not. A slight noise startled me, pulling out my pistol and aiming it at the door, not knowing if this was a trap or not.

A tall figure stepped out, hood obscuring their face, hands raised. "Don't shoot!" The figure shakily said, reaching up to pull the hood off. "I'm not Jack, please don't shoot"

The hood came down, and I froze. Similar features and the exact same eyes stared back at me. His hair, while a bit longer and more unkempt, still had the same style to Handsome Jack, but there was something familiar about him (and not the likeness to Jack).

"Timothy, is that you?" I blurted out, more and more in disbelief that he was still alive. The first Doppleganger Jack ever made, the one I had adventures on Elpis with.

He looked confused. "Have we met somewhere before?"

I took a deep breath, before taking off my hood and peeling my face covering off. As we made eye contact, he sharply inhaled.

"It can't be. (Y/N) it's you!" he said, in disbelief I was standing in front of him.

"Yeah, it's me" I said, slowly walking towards him until I could pull him in a hug. My eyes started glossing over, unshed tears threatening to fall. "I can't believe I finally found you" I choked out. His arms shakily wrapped around me, squeezing me tight.

"You don't know how happy I am to see you again" He shakily said, voice wavering with emotion. We embraced each other for a while before parting to look at each other again.

"I thought you died. When Handsome Jack died I thought I lost you too" I said, tears starting to fall. Timothy shook his head, starting to get emotional too.

"When he died we became trapped in this casino. Bastard didn't tell anyone that when he died this place would be on lockdown indefinitely." I just stared in shock. This whole time, after 7 years, he was trapped here against his will.

Whatever I was going to say next died on my tongue when new yells and screeches echoed in the hallway I came from.

"Come on, I know a safe place" Timothy grabbed my hand and pulled me into the opposite direction. We ducked and weaved through a couple open areas before ending at what I thought was just a dead end. Timothy leaned his face close to a wall, a beam of light scanning his eye, before a click sounded, part of the wall giving way to a secret room.

Stepping in, I realized this is where he was hiding out most of the time.

"It's not much but it's kind of home" He said sheepishly. I smiled, seeing his likeness throughout the room. I turned around and hugged him again.

"It's perfect, just like you" I said, enjoying his warmth and presence. I felt him return the hug. As long as I was with him, nothing else mattered.

[awesamforehead]

What if, at the end of the milk bucket game, a bulletproof glass pane comes down at the end of each losing teams corresponding number? Separating the players and keeping the losers from escaping.

(aka this is me giving a 'reason' as to why Hannah and Suzyroxx couldn't move from their pen and gave it my own flair. Spoilers for day 5 of squidcraft 2)

---------------

sc!Hannah being confused when she got back to her teams cow pen. Her going up to it and knocking her knuckles against it, it sounded pretty thick.

And due to it being thick, sound is a little muffled. She couldn't hear her fellow competeters completely but she still gave her ggs. Her and Suzy gave their thoughts on why they couldn't get the buckets acrossed as fast, those things were heavy as fuck. She still got one final laugh out after she asked Aldo and Roier to sing her a song, only for it be some free style rap.

She almost forgot her situation until Sapnap's voice yelled through the glass, clear as day.

"Hannah! Look at me, Hannah! Don't look back!"

Against her better judgement, she looked back. Her heart sank to her stomach once she saw the guard approaching her, assult rifle in hands.

Hannah lets out a cry as she curls up her fists, banging them against the glass. Maybe if she hits hard enough, it will crack. Give leway, something. Seems like Suzy noticed the guard too, as she was also punching against the glass.

But no matter what they did; punching, kicking, throwing their whole body weight against it, the glass didn't budge.

Hannah leaned her body against the glass, winded from using all her energy. This was it, her time was up. Dammit, she wanted to go to the finals, not lose just before it. Now she has to die with a barrier separating her from her friends (Were they still friends at this point?). Reaching over to her right, she grabs Suzy's sweaty hand in a tight grip. Just as strong, Suzy grips hers back.

At least she wont be totally alone.

Hearing a bang against the glass, Hannah looks up to see sc!Sapnap leaning his head against the glass right up against hers, so they were face to face. Sapnap placed his hand palm open on the glass next to his head, and Hannah lifted hers up to place it right over his. She holds back a sob as she does this.

"Look at your friends Hannah! Don't look back, look at your friends, ok?" Sapnap's voice was still clear through the glass. His voice was steady and calm, but it did nothing for her nerves.

Hannah's sobs got loud as she heard the rifle behind her being loaded before the first gunshots rang out. She felt Suzy's grip on her hand loosen as her body fell backward on the ground, the momentum of the fall causing their hands to separate. Blood splattered widely on the glass, but none of the bullets broke through or even cracked the glass. Bulletproof.

Sapnap's voice got more frantic as he saw the gun point towards Hannah, "Keep looking at your friends Hannah! We'll win this for you! You hear me, we'll win this for you!"

Hannah didn't get to respond as she felt the searing pain before she hear the gunshot. Her knees fell underneath her, and she fell down to her side. Her ears were ringing, but she could still hear her friends crying out for her and banging against the glass.

She couldn't help but let out a small chuckle as her last breath. Guess they were friends in the end.

[ausetkmt]

The murder of three Black people in a racist killing in Jacksonville, Florida, has devastated the community and stoked renewed outrage over the state’s increasingly loose gun regulations.

The white gunman who perpetrated the Jacksonville shooting appears to have legally acquired the weapons used in the attack, a Glock handgun and an AR-15-style rifle emblazoned with swastikas. The US attorney general, Merrick Garland, announced on Sunday that the justice department would investigate the attack as “a hate crime and an act of racially motivated violent extremism”.

The Saturday shooting came four months after Governor Ron DeSantis, a Republican and now a presidential candidate, signed a law enacting permitless carry in Florida. The law eliminated Florida’s previous requirements mandating that those wishing to carry a concealed gun must complete safety training and undergo a background check.

It remains unclear whether a more thorough background check would have impeded gun purchases for the shooter, who had no criminal arrest history but was once held involuntarily in a mental health facility. As authorities continue to investigate the shooting, gun safety advocates and racial justice leaders have called for a re-examination of Florida’s firearm regulations. They fear that more tragedies like that which occurred in Jacksonville will prove inevitable if the state remains awash with guns in the hands of unpermitted owners.

“Gun violence has been a serious problem in Florida, and with the passage of permitless carry earlier this year, it will undoubtedly rise,” said Samantha Barrios, Florida state director for the gun safety group Giffords. “Florida’s weak gun laws have made us home to too many mass shootings. If Governor DeSantis is serious about stopping future tragedies he would support overturning permitless carry and work to strengthen Florida’s gun laws.”

The Jacksonville chapter of the NAACP similarly urged the Florida legislature to reconsider the permitless carry law.

“We are committed to supporting efforts that safeguard our communities from these acts of racial violence,” the chapter said in a statement. “Together, we must work towards a future where hate has no place and where all individuals can live without fear of senseless attacks.”

The shooting has sparked additional criticism of DeSantis and his policies on guns and education, after the governor signed a bill restricting the discussion of race in Florida’s schools. As DeSantis attended a vigil for the three victims of the Jacksonville shooting on Sunday, he was met with loud boos from the crowd. Videos of the event showed one attendee yelling at DeSantis, “Your policies caused this!”

The grief and outrage over the Jacksonville shooting may prompt DeSantis and his Republican allies in the Florida legislature to reconsider the permitless carry law. But there is some warranted skepticism of that possibility, given that DeSantis already signed the bill in April over loud objections from his constituents. One survey conducted earlier this year by the University of North Florida’s Public Opinion Research Lab showed 77% of Florida voters, including 62% of Republicans, do not support permitless carry.

Despite the many challenges to overturning the law, gun safety activists expressed commitment to ensuring the safety of Florida’s residents and holding DeSantis accountable. As the Jacksonville community grieves, the Democratic congressman Maxwell Frost said he hoped DeSantis would sit down with gun safety advocates to discuss how to prevent the next shooting.

“Activists and organizers have been asking him to travel the state and sit down with people since he’s gotten into office, and he never does it,” Frost told CNN on Sunday. “What I would tell him is, ‘Governor, we need a special session on gun violence. We needed it when you first started, and we need it now more than ever.’”

[glacialswordsman-a]

∗ 52 // :3 what better way to try and reconcile by sacrificing yourself for your brother ✨

∗ 52﹕ sender  takes  a  [ punch / stab / bullet ]  meant  for  receiver . | what is with y'all wanting to hurt me so bad what did i ever do to deserve this (everything)

The world stopped in that single instant.

Why was this happening?

Just a minute ago Kaeya and Diluc had been fighting back-to-back, moving in complete synchronization as they fought of some Fatui skirmishers that had made their home at the base of Dragonspine. They had long since known that there were Fatui camping out on the mountain, and said organization hasn’t done anything that would have warranted a visit from the Knights—not until recently, at least. These skirmishers did not take kindly to Kaeya trying to schmooze them so they can spill what the hell they were even doing there.

For some reason, Diluc was there too, having followed Kaeya along yet hung a distance back as to let the Knight do his job (and presumably also to avoid the risk of Kaeya incessantly pestering him).  That’s fine, he can play back-up all he wants.

Though, the sight of flaming hair really set off these skirmishers, recognizing Diluc for who he was: Snezhnaya’s #1 wanted criminal and persona-non-grata. Technically speaking, the Fatui had no right to bring Diluc with them to the Cryo Archon’s lands. They had absolutely no jurisdiction here. Yet, they had enough cojones to try and take care of him themselves.

Thus began the fight between the Cavalry Captain, the Vigilante, and the Fatui.

One wouldn’t think that they’d work so well in a fight together, that they’d just clash and only make the entire situation worse—but they grew up together. They trained together to become Knights. Diluc would know Kaeya’s movements by heart, and while it took Kaeya a while to catch onto the older man’s style with his claymore, he was quick to learn. And so they fought with everything they got, shifting between each other like water as they swapped sides to land their hits or block some for the other.

Until now.

A pyro gunner had situated himself in the distance, somewhat hidden due to the commotion his comrades were in the middle of. The only reason Diluc had managed to see him was due to the glint of the gunner’s scope. As the last skirmisher (that was in close-quarters) fell, the blazing inferno of a man shoved the Captain away as a loud ‘bang’ rang out through the base of the mountain.

Before Kaeya knew it, he was down on the snow-covered ground, with the young Master’s body slumped on top of his own. The Captain was frozen, unable to even begin parsing what just happened—until he felt warmth seep from Diluc and onto his own clothes.

Sharply inhaling, he moved the man that had once burned so brightly off of himself and onto his back, taking stock of his injury, noting the blood blooming and staining his already dark coat to black. Kaeya looked down at himself and saw the crimson staining his white and blue outfit, a stark contrast on his form.

He had been shot.

“—Diluc. Diluc—answer me… Hey!”

Panic rose within Kaeya as he suddenly felt so nauseous, bile threatening to rise up his throat. He whipped his head around towards the direction he heard the rifle go off, but the Fatui filth had long departed. Damn him.

Damn him!

Looking back down at the man whose life continued to escape him, Kaeya quickly tried to put pressure on the wound after removing his cloak and fur stole. He doesn’t care if it they’ll be unsalvageable, he doesn’t care if the chill of Dragonspine would seep into his bones, he doesn’t give a single fuck! If Diluc can’t be salvaged, then what use were they to him anyway?!

“Diluc—Luc, please—. Please, Lulu, just hang on. I have you, I do, I promise! Don’t you dare die on me, stupid brother!” he yelled before crying out for someone, anyone to help them. To hear his pleas and to save his brother. Please, not again.

Not again… He can’t lose him again. Not for good.