#thb crosshair

[twinsunstars]

happy bad batch eve y’all i am not ready i physically cannot

[archivistofnerddom]

Batch Headcanons — Bed Sharing and Bedtime Snuggles with a Partner (SFW)

This is safe for work and all ages, so no worries on that front.

Hunter

This man’s senses are always working, so he has a hard time settling down to sleep. In a perfect world, he would have the right environment to let him sleep every night. But, of course, he doesn’t have that.

But he likes to snuggle with you. Having you next to him helps him soothe and settle.

He will focus on the smell of your hair or the way you breathe as you fall asleep. Paying attention to those small details calms him immensely.

Hunter will curl into you, letting the senses of you wash over him completely. This man is a cuddler and generally a big spoon, holding you close to him.

Whenever either of you are away from one other for whatever reason, he doesn’t sleep as well. Life is stressful, and he has a milieu of reasons why he won’t sleep well.

But that gets easier after you start wearing his sweatshirts or large soft shirts to bed and then sneaking them into places he’ll find whenever you have to sleep apart. He loves the gesture. Being able to focus on one sense, on one smell, keeps him from getting overwhelmed when he’s trying to fall asleep . And then he holds you close when you’re home and sharing a bed again.

Crosshair

Crosshair is a skittish feral cat with an injured paw. He has been through a lot and has trust issues because of his past. Approaching sharing a bed with him takes time and patience.

Being a calm and steady presence while he falls asleep and when he wakes up again counts for a lot to him.

He isn’t immediately a cuddler, but he will brush his fingers against your hand or arm or back while he sleeps or dozes. Those little touches are his reassurances that you’re still there.

The man runs cold, so blankets, sweatpants and sweatshirts, and socks are a must for him. Crosshair almost cries when you buy him a weighted and quilted blanket. He is both warm and calmed as he sleeps.

When he does relax and realize you aren’t going anywhere, this man is such a little spoon. He likes being in close proximity to you and being held. Being close to you reassures Crosshair that he has someone who cares for him right there.

He isn’t good at saying “I love you” out loud. However, he says it all the time when he presses in close to you and snuggles up against you at night.

Tech

Guess who has figured out the ideal temperature for both of you to get a good night’s sleep while snuggling? This guy.

Perfect number of blankets to room temperature ratio. (It’s endearing that he figured out the right ratio for you, since it means he’s paying attention to you and your specific nuances.)

His brain doesn’t shut off easy, so it’s hard for him to fall asleep. When you present with the concept of natural noise to lull him to sleep, Tech latches on to that idea quickly. He takes your sleep needs into consideration and develops a playlist that suits you both (usually thunderstorms and ocean waves on a beach).

Tech struggles to put down his data pad when he’s in bed. However, he’s willing to try when you explain that setting it aside for a while before bedtime will help him fall asleep. (Anything for a science experiment, and it does help.)

When he does fall asleep, Tech sleeps hard, as in he won’t wake up unless there is literally a klaxon sounding right next to him.

He is a spider monkey when he sleeps. Tech clings to you, his legs twisted through yours and his arms around you. He nuzzles in close and finds you to be a calming presence.

Wrecker

Literal ultimate big spoon and personal space heater.

Once you mention that you like to sleep in a cold room so that you can snuggle up under blankets or with a partner, his brain just light-bulbs. He’s immediately files that away for future use and deploys it with great effect. Wrecker is nothing if not very aware of his partner’s needs and likes. (Someone rolled high on emotional intelligence.)

He’s also aware of how large he is, so he doesn’t hold you too tightly when he holds you at night (unless you ask him to). He keeps his hold loose enough if you want or need to squirm out of his embrace for any reason. He also loves it when he registers that you snuggle back into his embrace in the middle of the night, if you had to get up for a midnight bathroom break.

Having you in his arms when he wakes up makes him so unbelievably happy. This man lives to protect those he loves. If you also happen to be holding Lula while you sleep in his arms, he’s a big old softie and will basically melt.

Wrecker is also functionally a weighted blanket for you. His heart swells with love the first time you pass out quickly in his arms as he holds you.

Just because he’s a natural big spoon doesn’t mean he doesn’t love it when you (try to) spoon him. Usually that means your arm slips under his armpit and your leg goes over his hip. Wrecker knows he’s a big man, and he finds you doing that adorable. He’ll usually slip his hand into the bend of your knee and shift it to a comfy spot for you both.

Echo

Echo has his fair share of insecurities and body image issues after what he survived at the hands of the Techno Union on Skako Minor. Losing three limbs takes a lot out of a person. Sharing that with someone he cares about deeply isn’t easy.

He is tense the first time you share a bed with him. This stems from his prosthetics and what he looks like without them. It takes a lot for him to feel comfortable sleeping without them, especially after sleeping with them on due to the war and being in the run. You being patient with him gives him the confidence to try sleeping without them.

He sleeps so hard the first time he takes them off for bed. Maybe it has to do with you holding him and curling around him, or the way you gently massage his limbs to work out the tension he has after wearing them for so long. Being so vulnerable with someone in bed helps a lot.

Echo loves having you snuggle into his left side and press your face into his left shoulder. It means that he can hold you properly with his one good arm.

He doesn’t say it, but he also loves the way you sneak your legs between his and the way you cup his right elbow with your hand and arm. It makes him feel whole in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. Having you hold him so tenderly is reassuring.

This man is also the king of sleepy, gentle kisses to the side of your head. He is sweet and soft and warm, snuggling close to you.

[msn-04iinightingale]

KINSHIP-4 Pt.2 Sound of Thunder

Kinship FOB

The Barghest Company ‘mechs pushed forward in a v formation. Along the side streets and pathways, anti-mech mines had been laid by the retreating CFRI and Silver Wing forces. It only left one clear path into Kinship, and that was now through the advancing Barghest Company ‘mechs and the Silver Wing ‘mechs following them.

The wind whipped snow around the hulking form of Roberta’s superheavy T-Rex battlemech, but didn’t obscure her view of the suburbs and the approaching Word ‘mechs. She was in the lead, her ‘mech half again as tall as an Atlas and twice the weight, she was not by any measure, fast.

But fast didn’t matter when you just kept going. And that was one of two things Roberta was really good at. The other was destroying anything that tried to get in her way. With twin RAC-10’s, ER Large and Medium Lasers, and an Ultra AC-20, Laser AMS, THB Angel ECM Suite, HarJel Repair Systems, and over 35 tons of armor, her “Big Girl Teeth” were amply equipped to do both the former and latter. 

She counted 14 enemy battlemechs, against Barghest Company’s 10 and Silver Wing’s 7. She grunted, a reasonably fair fight. She cycled targets, looking for a suitable, worthy opponent. 

There.

“Target Acquired, Omega” chimed her battlemech’s computer, affectionately dubbed “Betty” by the spheroids. 

Roberta toggled comms to her neighboring unit mates. “This is Major Roberta, I have marked target Omega-1.”

The other Barghest Company ‘mechs committed to this fight sounded off similarly, calling initial targets. 

“Targets called, Commander, permission to open fire?” Bell chimes in.

“Permission granted, all units, fire at will, repeat, fire at will.”

There is the whip crack discharge of Gauss Rifles and the streams of fire and smoke of LRM’s being fired from those ‘mechs that possess them. Hits and impacts are registered across targets, blue readouts shifting to green then yellow as armor is damaged. Roberta smiled to see most shots landed rather than missed.

The Word battlemechs return fire, PPCs and Gauss slugs whipping past or smashing into the advancing wall of metal and myomer that were the heaviest Barghest ‘mechs at the front of the wedge. Two more volleys of long range fire blast out from and at the Barghest Company ‘mechs and the oncoming Word machines, before the ‘mechs enter general weapons range. Then the real fireworks started, lasers and AC rounds crisscrossing missile contrails and PPC arcs in the maelstrom of urban ‘mech combat. 

Then word came back to them. The drone was dead. All it had cost them was another brave pilot. One of their pilots.

The Barghest Company ‘mechs fell upon the Word ‘mechs like rabid dogs. They had lost three of their own, and their blood burned for vengeance. They would take that vengeance in ruined ‘mechs and dead enemies.

Roberta grunts as a trio of Gauss slugs slam into her armor. She had plenty to go before it became a problem. The Omega she was bearing down on had decided to try and fight rather than run. A bold move. A stupid move. She would never go so far as to say these Blakists had honor, but they did have guts. At least sometimes. She was pretty sure she had seen a Preta turn tail and sprint straight into the minefield when it caught sight of her.

Would not be the first time…at least this time I am in my battlemech.

Another trio of slugs slammed into her armor, this time in the right side torso and right arm. She replied with her ER Large Lasers, twin beams reaching out to slice into the Omega’s armor.

“You will have to try better than that savashri!” She laughs over the comms, goading the other pilot. “Come, let us settle this as warriors!”

A beep from her targeting computer indicates that the enemy ‘mech is within optimal range. She toggled both RAC10’s to the same weapon group, glancing at the ammo count as she did. 110 rounds. More than enough. There was no real “aiming” a RAC10 on full auto, so she centered the crosshair on the smaller machine. 

“This is for Major Vance Strider, Major Maria Chaser, and Lt. Elenor Von Strauss!” She snarled,  baring her teeth as she pulls the trigger.

The twin Rotary Auto Cannons sprang to life with an apocalyptic roar, the six barrels of each weapon spinning in their housings as shells thundered out with window shattering force. The wireframe of the Omega before her began to flash and pulse with changing colors as the explosive shells pummeled the ‘mech. Armor was sent flying. Roberta ignored the spiking heat of her cockpit, and the now panicked return fire from the Omega, just as she ignored the shaking of her cockpit and the pounding noise of the cannons. She leaned her ‘mech into the recoil, pushing forward, closing the distance so that more shells hit the same place. All that mattered was keeping the enemy in her crosshairs. Green went to Yellow, then to Orange and Red on the target, armor being torn and ripped away. The ammo count drops quickly.

“Warning, Heat Critical” Betty chimed. Roberta grunts, and lets off the triggers of the RAC10’s before her ‘mech is forced to shutdown. The Omega infront of her had been savaged, her sensors telling her that the armor from the front had been almost completely blasted away, most of its weapons crippled or damaged. Indeed, one of the Gauss rifles explodes dramatically at that moment. The ‘mech still was operational, however, and still had guns, as it fired its remaining LBX back at her, trying to back away and present some more well armored portions of itself towards her. Roberta growls in annoyance, and mild respect. Before she can re-engage, her own wireframe flashes as she takes fire from the left side. With a snarl she toggles the new target, an Archangel, Infernus pattern. The enemy ‘mech fires its PPCs into her left side armor once again, causing a dull throb of pain in the corresponding side. It was easy to ignore.

“Stravag! Very well, I will take both of you on!” she snarled, pivoting and firing her ER Medium Lasers at the Assault ‘mech, scoring armor. She checked her heat gauge, pleased to see it was within acceptable levels. She toggled back the RAC-10’s, and opened fire on her new target with the sound of thunder.

—

Lt. Delila watched through the targeting lens of her Nightstar at the ongoing fight happening in front of her. Ann, Pam, Clara, John and the new guy, Nero were trading fire with the other Omega, and two Seraphs in the streets in front of her. 

She was waiting for “The Shot”. That’s what she called the one, perfect moment where a sniper has their kill shot. It’s what her dad had called it at any rate, when he was sober. That one moment, when everything lines up, and you have your opening.

It wasn’t always easy, or very “glorious” as some of her comrades hailing from the clans would say, but she knew how effective it could be. 

Ann and Pam were dueling the Omega, circling each other as they traded gauss and autocannon fire across their heavy armor. At the same time, Clara, John and Nero were taking on the two Seraphs. She decided that the Omega was the one to take out, and no, not just because her girlfriend was in the process of sandblasting the motherfucker with her autocannons and SRMs. If the Omega was downed, that would free up both Ann, Pam and herself to help with the two Seraphs, and other ‘mechs as needed.

Delila watched, eyes sharp, finger on the trigger of her gauss rifles. Her two allies were coming around again, counterclockwise, blocking her line of sight of the Omega’s juicy bits. There, that niggle at the back of her head, close to the base of her skull.

She brings her ‘mech to a halt, and brings her guns up. She steadies her breathing. 

In. Out.

Pam and Ann move to the side.

In. Out.

The Omega slews into view, firing LB-X canister shot into her friends’ ‘mechs.

In. Out.

The Omega angles itself ever so slightly, to bring its gauss rifles to bear, slowing, slightly, to line up the shot.

In. Out.

The crosshair slides over to the Omega’s cockpit. Only armored glass between the enemy pilot and two gauss slugs.

The Shot.

Delila pulls the trigger.

The twin Gauss Slugs punch through the armored canopy glass of the superheavy, removing the pilot from the present tense and into the past in less time than it takes to blink. The Omega stumbles, as if in shock, before it slumps forward, the ‘mech falling to the ground with a clatter of slack metal limbs.

“Woohoo! Way to go D!” Pam cheered over the comms.

“Good shot, Delila!” Ann adds.

“You know me, I aim to please.” Delila says, smirking at her own joke.

“Oh my god…” Pam groans. “Come on, let’s go help the others.”

“Aff!” Ann adds.

The three Assault ‘mechs turn and move to assist their comrades, of which Clara is grappling with one Seraph and hacking at it with her hatchet, the other trying to take out either John’s Warhammer or Nero’s Warwolf, but the two are coordinating well to keep it busy and unfocused, John using his eidetic memory to call targets to the other pilot, allowing both to focus on disarming the heavier ‘mech. To his credit, Nero is a competent pilot, ducking in and out of cover to land gauss rifle shots where John calls them. 

The three additional assault ‘mechs made short work of the two enemy battlemechs, not that there was much left of Clara’s opponent by the time they got there. The Solaris VII champion had cleaved both arms from the ‘mech, mind, the left arm of her own ‘mech had been badly damaged as well. It’s not immediately clear if it was due to the enemy or that she was using it as a club to batter the other ‘mech in tandem with the punishing chops of her hatchet. It is one such blow that kills the ‘mech, crumpling center torso and crushing reactor with a dull krumping bang. The ruined ‘mech tips over backwards, smashing into a small building and lying still.

“Yay!” Clara cheers over the comms, her ‘mech doing a little happy dance, which is rather strange, given it’s a 100 ton Berserker.

The concentrated gauss, pulse laser, PPC, and LBX autocannon rounds from Ann, Pam and Delila tore the remaining Seraph into pieces, with John’s Warhammer and Nero’s Warwolf adding to the storm of fire as well.

“Whew, got ‘em. Nice work ladies…oh and John.” Nero says, with a nearly audible smile. “This is Captain Bastian, three enemy ‘mechs down, moving to assist further elements.”

“Understood Captain, good work.” Owen replies, calm as ever. According to the tac-map, Owen’s designation is headed towards three enemy mechs on his own.

“Hey, your boss gonna need any help or…” he asks his new lance mates.

“Nah, the boss has got this.” Delila replies.

“...sure hope so.” Nero says in response, turning his ‘mech to fall in with the others of Barghest Company.

—

“Why do you not just die, stravag!?” Bridget shouted at the Seraph she and Bell were engaging. It was proving to be stubbornly resistant to dying. She punched her jumpjets, liftiong her Shrike out of the way of the twin Ultra AC10 shots the mech fired her way. She retaliated, twin Ultra AC5’s raking the enemy ‘mech’s left arm.

The enemy pilot was frustratingly good. She hated to admit it, and never would to anyone out loud, especially not Bell.

Bell pivoted her Mad Cat Mk II out of cover and fired off twin Gauss Slugs into the Seraph’s side, which pivoted and launched a volley of Streak SRM’s at her, she ducked back into cover, only taking a few hits before the rest demolished the facing of the building she ducked behind.

“Major, when it turns to bring its PPC and Ultra AC10 on me, I want you to take it from above.” Bell says calmly to Bridget. 

Bridget huffed a bit. “Aff Colonel.” At least Bell was a capable commander, despite their mutual dislike of one another. Her mech landed, and she prepared herself to jump again.

Bell ducked back out, firing medium lasers and gauss rifles at the Seraph, baiting it, goading the pilot to commit.

The pilot, for all their skill, fell for the basic trap of target priority, and turned to engage Bell fully.

“Now, Major!”

“Aff!” Bridget punched her jump jets bringing her up, up and over the Seraph. She pivoted her mech gracefulling in the air, aiming all weapons downward.

Perfectly executed. As all things should be.

“Die with honor!” She yelled, toggling all guns to fire. Ultra AC5 rounds, ER Large Lasers, and Clan LRMs stabbed down directly into the enemy ‘mech’s cockpit. She landed facing the enemy mech, having turned in mid air, just in time to see it topple over, as dead as its pilot.

Bridget allowed herself a satisfied smirk at the perfection of the maneuver. It almost made up for not facing this enemy in single combat. Almost.

“Good work, Major, now we need to support…” Bell trailed off, her breath catching as she saw her Commander engaging three enemy ‘mechs at once. 

Seeing him in action always did that to her. 

—

Owen pushed Katie forward in long, loping strides through the city streets, curing up snow and asphalt with her powerful legs. He felt the thrum of her reactor, heard the thud of her clawed feet below, saw the fine tuned sensors reaching out and the readiness of her guns. He inhaled the scent of her cockpit.

God it felt good to be with her again out in the field.

He was skilled with just about any mech he was at the controls of. A couple centuries of your own personal Gunslinger program did that to a man, after all. But Katie…Katie was His ‘Mech. Every pilot worth a damn had Their ‘Mech, the one that did better, for some reason or another. The controls were slightly more responsive. The myomer a little more elastic. The seat more comfortable. For whatever reason, it just, fit, like hand in glove. You were at home in the cockpit. It was your’s. And Katie was His ‘Mech.

The Omni Marauder ran, closing with the three enemy mechs. He toggled through the targets; Deva, Grigori, Archangel. He selected the Grigori first, for no other reason than it was closest. Already the three mechs were taking shots at him, confident shots. They outnumbered him three to one, and outweighed his mech by at least that much. What he was doing was suicide.

They didn’t know they were already dead.

He juked Katie left and right, dodging shots and ducking behind buildings just long enough to let missile volleys detonate against them instead. He checked his weapons on second nature. HAG 30, Twin ER PPCs and Twin ER Medium Lasers, all live and ready.

Katie slewed into a street, looking directly down at the Grigori. The enemy mech started to bring its MLM and Streak SRM to bear on the target. Twin ER PPC shots took out the cockpit cleanly before they could center the targeting reticule on Owen.

“Target Destroyed” Katie chimed.

He was already moving, HAG 30 pivoting to track the Deva now. The second here was a gap between the buildings between him and it, he fired. The volley of nickel slugs tore the other machine’s cockpit apart the second it turned to engage him. He didn’t see it fall. He had another target to kill.

“Target Destroyed” Katie chimed.

The Archangel put up more fight, throwing Heavy PPC and Plasma Rifle slugs at him as fast as it could handle the heat. Owen side stepped them, sometimes by just enough to let the heat kiss Katie’s armor. The pilot was panicking, he could tell by the frantic nature of their shots, shooting for where he was rather than where he would be. They triggered their jump jets in an effort to gain some distance and hopefully safety. He triggered his own, the lighter mech gaining altitude faster than the Assault mech. He aimed Katie’s weapon pods, and fired. Twin ER PPC bolts blasted the enemy mech’s cockpit apart midair. The Archangel landed badly, crashing into a building and demolishing it. Owen landed Katie with practiced ease.

“Target Destroyed” Katie chimes.

“That’s my girl.” Owen says, patting the computer console in front of him affectionately. “...now, let’s go see how the rest of them are doing.”

He turned, going back to the fighting and his people. His men and women.

[kurtskrow]

- 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐓𝐇

- ngl, Omega and Gonkie are hella cute.