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#Then the air raid alert ended
omint · 7 months
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Closed doors
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tonya-the-chicken · 1 year
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Insane that out of all war-related art, the one I am thinking about during actual war is attack on titan
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swamp-cats-den · 2 years
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Hello! For your consideration, I was thinking of a Tech hurt/ comfort fic. The reader is hurt after a mission and Tech helps aid them. Maybe the injury isn’t close to being lethal, but it’s not good either. Ooo, I was about to say they’re in a relationship, but what if they are close but haven’t realized how much they deeply care until now.
By Your Side
Tech x Reader
Summary- During an escape from the Empire, you break your arm. Tech is quick to be at your side, fixing you up. At the intensity of the situation, feelings are revealed. DESCRIPTIONS OF BROKEN BONES!
A/N- Hi, honey! Thanks for requesting! I LOVE this prompt! Such a cute idea. <3 <3
Word Count- 1,549
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SNAP
A gasp left your mouth, just before a scream. It took a couple seconds for your brain to register what had happened. You simply stared at your left arm, white peaking out on your forearm.
Another wail erupted, pain shooting up your arm. You left it in your shoulder as well.
The previous events finally caught up to you.
You were trying to redirect power in a crashed Imperial vessel. Cid had sent you all to get any valuables on the ship.
Luckily for you all, the ship was mostly abandoned. Plus, there was expensive equipment left on board that could be sold back to the Empire through a third party.
Hunter, Omega, and Wrecker had been headed back to The Marauder to haul parts of the medical technology back to Ord Mantell.
Things were moving smoothly until a fleet arrived. Apparently the Empire had also sent their own men to retrieve the equipment. Clones raided the ship, you and Tech struggled to stay unseen.
"Keep down." He instructed, you followed his order.
"Hunter, meet at the pickup zone. We are currently escaping through an air duct." Tech whispered through his Comms.
The position you were in had you flushed, crawling on your hands and knees was uncomfortable. Tech right behind you doing the same made you a little self conscious.
It wasn't a secret to Omega and Hunter that you liked Tech. Hunter picked up on your heart rate increase around Tech, and the way you grew nervous over simple activities with him. His heightened senses gave you away. Omega, on the other hand, had a knack for picking up your subtle blush when he talked on and on about something you didn't understand.
She teased you about it sometimes, and Hunter paid little mind. Wrecker was clueless, as usual.
"Are you okay? You're breathing heavily." Tech spoke quietly to you, concerned.
"Uh, yeah, yeah. Its just- its a tight space..." You responded, Tech hummed to let you know he heard you. Though, you doubt he believed your petty excuse.
The duct came to an end, a barred frame was the only thing blocking your escape.
You pushed at it, and when it didn't budge- you shuffled around and tried to kick.
"Not even a dent."
"I'll have to blast it, move behind me." He answered.
You leaned back, trying to contort yourself was a struggle in the small vent. There was no way to change positions without crossing over him.
"Sorry..." You mumbled out, flustered as your chest was soon snugly pressed into his.
He stopped moving for a moment, you both rested an inch from each other. "There is no reason to be. This was my plan."
You stuttered, "This?"
He let out a single breathy laugh. "Ah, no. Escaping through the air duct. Our predicament is only a consequence of that decision. Therefore, this is my fault. Not yours."
You gave a shy nod. As much as you would have loved to spend more time in your position, wasting time was not a luxury you had.
The two of you continued to switch spots, you were now behind him.
"After I blast it, the Imperial troops will be alerted of our location. We will need to be swift. Just follow me, I've been tracking our coordinates." He glanced over his shoulder when he spoke.
"After blast, run like crazy?"
"Sure. I guess you could put it that way." You smiled at his words.
You crouched down behind him as he pulled his blaster trigger.
It wasn't very loud, but enough for some kind of siren to go off.
Tech quickly crawled out, then waited for you to do the same. He grabbed your arm, pulling you up to him.
At that, the two of you took off. A few shots rang out, but nothing close enough to get you.
You were able to see The Marauder hovering above, peaking out of the tree leaves.
Maybe your mind was still hazy from the vent, or maybe you got cocky from seeing the ship.
Either way, when a blast was shot close to your feet it distracted you long enough to trip and fall...
"Tech!" You managed to gasp out, besides your screams. You didn't have to though, as he was at your side before you could yell a second time.
He didn't say a word, he was too focused on you. For once, he had nothing to say. His veins were struck with your screams. He'd never been so frightened in his life.
You found yourself propped against a tree, unable to walk. It seemed like you also did something to your leg. Tech was more concerned with your arm, though.
He held it gently, working steadily. It was incredibly painful, but you trusted him to know what he was doing.
Before you knew it, he had lifted you up with a strength you forgot he had.
In your pain stricken state, you did nothing but cling to the man holding you. He started to bring you to The Marauder as fast as he could.
You passed out before you made it, slumping into Techs arms.
Hours later you awoke, a dull throbbing in your leg and left arm. It hurt incredibly to move either, you sucked in with a hiss at the pain.
At the noise, Tech appeared at your side.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, eyes on his datapad.
"Not too good... My arm it-" You looked down at it, wrapped perfectly and tight in a white gauze.
"Yes, you managed to break where your ulna crosses your radius. I performed a minor surgery on it, with the proper care you will make a full recovery." He said, head still down.
You swallowed, what could be so important on his datapad. You apparently just had surgery and broke two bones! "What are you doing?" You tried not to sound passive aggressive.
"Checking your vitals. I am concerned with your risk of infection." He said, now looking up at you.
"Oh..." You felt silly now.
There was a moment of silence between the two of you, Tech then reached for your good arm. He set the datapad down, his full attention on you now. He guided you to sit up.
"When you fell," He gently rotated your arm to be palm up. "Your arm was like this." He turned your wrist. With the lightest touch you'd ever felt, he traced the outline of your two bones on your forearm. "See how they cross? You were unlucky, just breaking the ulna or radius would be a much easier fix. We will need to stabilize both now."
He was referencing some sort of cast.
"I have it wrapped now, as the bone did pierce your skin." He said.
"Thank you..."
"Of course, you needed medical attention. I am more than capable of administering it."
You bit down on your lip, very careful to notice he was still holding your wrist gently.
"No, I mean. Thank you, for saving me..."
He released your wrist, resting his hand next to your thigh. "Oh, well, you are welcome."
It was quiet again. You sheepishly scanned the room, trying not to look at him.
"I was, I-" He took a deep breath. "When you screamed, I felt... I was..." He thought on what word applied best. "Scared."
You tried to reassure him, "I'm okay now."
"I thought you had been shot." He couldn't meet your eye.
You shuffled closer, as much as you were able. "Tech-"
"I've never felt like that before." He admitted, now looking at you.
You reached your right arm out, a hand on his cheek.
With your name leaving his lips, "You are special. I recognize that- that my feelings for you are more exaggerated than anyone else."
Your cheeks felt hot, you were sure they were colored. "Tech, I completely understand the feeling.."
"You do?" He questioned, almost like he was writing mental notes down.
"Yes. I feel the exact same way." You confessed. "About who?" He got slightly defensive, stiffening up.
With a suppressed laugh, you smirked. "You."
He clicked his tongue, almost as a 'Eureka' moment.
Your thumb moved up and down on his cheek. You were unsure what he was comfortable doing with the new information. Though, knew he'd stop you if he was put off by you.
At that thought, you leaned in. Your heart swelled when he did the same, your lips meeting. He was soft, slow, and full of meaning. He was still aware of your injuries. You, however, forgot the second your lips touched his.
It was all promptly followed by a gasp of pain by you, as the leaning put pressure on your leg.
"Oh, you also fractured your fibula. Perhaps we shall continue later." He ran a finger up your leg, showing you where it was. It was an innocent act, but your brain didn't care. You were red as a tomato.
His datapad beeped, he picked it up. "Are you okay? Your heart rate has significantly increased the past minute." He looked at you warily.
His lack of recognition of your embarrassment just made your heart beat faster. "Yes, Tech. I'll be fine..." You said, a laugh finally breaking free at his confused face.
A/N- Thank you so much for reading!
Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @dangraccoon @knight-of-flowerss
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kingkenzieofmold · 1 month
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I got permission and love from @rarestdoge to show off this guy! Meet 'Overlord' Villain!Cameron Copperbottom. How he came to be, the idea of playing terraria together on master mode but as our villain characters. Realized Doge does not have a villain character and him wanting to play as his son and inspire by an abandoned construction site made this sad bastard. So Enjoy!
Ashley, Henry and Charles designs belong to @mai-mai-lim
Brutus belongs to @smoresthehalloweenqueen
The Incandescent Prince AU:
Cameron Takes over after private investigator and struggles hard with being in the leadership position. Ashley and Brutus trying to help him but they too are trying to figure out there new roles as his seconds. So hence the more angry and stressed out Cameron. Eventually they prepare the space station and have the toppat king ending style fight with the government and get out. Once in space Cameron determines that a next course of action is to recuse the remaining Toppats.
Charles and Seung-Jae are assigned any mission dealing with the Toppats because of their experience with them. This leads to the heist against the wall that Cameron prepares. Upon raiding the wall Charles and Seung-Jae are alerted to the situation and are sent in. This is where it goes revenged arc vibes. The rescue team ending up in the cafeteria and having the airship on stand by. Charles and Seung-Jae having land on the helicopter pad making their way down to the Toppats Location.
The Wall and Toppats are duking it out when they arrive and the main rescue team having gotten most of the Toppat on to the air craft. A few still behind, Right Hand Man is fighting with Cameron against Dimitri when Seung-Jae charges RHM and body checks him, causing him to lose balance and fall out the building. Cameron of course goes after him not really thinking. Which is the slight scene I drew where Honeymaple catches Cameron but was unable to save RHM. This leads to him being in critical condition. The mission was a success but at what cost.
This cause Cameron to spiral slightly. Reginald due to RHMs condition does not resume leadership and consoles Cameron as much as he can in his grief. Cameron continues being leader but with a bit more venom, he disliked the government before but now he hates the government. He hates Seung-Jae for Locking his dads up and being the cause that his dad might die. Seung-Jae is consumed with guilt and is not doing too good. Ashley and Brutus try to be there for Cameron but Cameron is isolating himself. He then imposes a new mission: to make the governments lives a living nightmare.
He sets a new rule to engage in combat with all government agents and to not show mercy. He begins these heist with high risk, high reward. He wants to government to surrender for one reason to get Henry Stickmin in the most humiliating way possible and then kill him in front of the whole clan for what he has done. Ashley and Brutus are of course horrified by the plan and start trying to reason with him. Which leads to ‘you’re either with me or against me’ argument.
Eventually His plan does work out and he gets Seung-Jae but also Charles as he not about to leave Henry alone to the Toppats. Cameron is pissed even more at the fact that Charles is here and he is associated with Henry but not even his brother can reason with him. At this point the Toppat doctors and Reginald managed to locate some scientists who can help save RHM, making him into Right Hand Man Reborn.
Cameron has prepared the stage for this judgment and execution. No body is happy with this but they are not about to stop their prince yet. The judgement has been made and the execution is to be delivered. Cameron facing down Seung-Jae as Charles and his seconds are trying to convince Cameron not to do this. Seung-Jae sacred by resigned to his fate. The Toppats unable to do anything without the risk of Cameron firing before they could stop him. Right Hand Man enters the Stage. Talking down Cameron and embracing him in a hug. Letting him know it’s alright. Cameron has a mental breakdown, his stress of being leader and everything that has happen, seeing his dad there and hugging him.
He cried.
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crystalflie · 1 year
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Two Cat People In The Same Room. (III)
Part lll —> (Part ll here)
Chishiya Shuntaro x Reader x Banda Sunato
Description: Apparently raiding the department stores was everyone’s first instinct after the king of spades scare at Shibuya Cross. Now you’re stuck with only a cat hoodie over your inconvenient swimwear from the beach, and two unconventional cat lovers in a game of betrayal.
Word count: 1581
Tags: Gender-neutral reader, general audiences, canon divergence, fluff, canon typical character behavior and description of violence, Chishiya and Banda side-eyeing each other, can be platonic or romantic.
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“Heart.”
You said out loud to nothing in particular inside your cell.
Seconds pass, and of course, your collar didn’t explode, it was just like Chishiya and Ippei told you.
And Banda too..you suppose. He didn’t have to do that though, your partnership with Chishiya and Ippei was pretty obvious, you didn’t necessarily need his help.
It was also a little creepy for him to follow you, whether with his eyes or like when he chased you down the hall.
But…In his defense, Banda was nice to step in for the guy getting kicked by the bully while you were too scared to intervene, so maybe you just misunderstood him. And it wasn’t like he outright did anything to hurt you, perhaps he was just a little awkward and didn’t get social cues.
Which is relatable to a certain degree.
As you thought about your strange encounter with Banda, someone banged on the door of your cell a few times, alerting you.
“Are you just going to keep standing there?”
Chishiya could be seen through the little tiny barred windows.
“O-oh, I'm coming.”
You reached out to unlock the door, and as you did, the man could be heard letting out a sigh. You wanted to question him, but stepping out, you quickly noticed a commotion down the hallway.
A couple of players from the blue dress girl’s group stood in front of a cell, panicking about something as she stood there twirling her hair.
“What happened?”
Chishiya looks at you with hands in his pocket, shrugging.
“That tall bully probably died.”
Your eyes widen, both at how casual he sounded and at the news that someone actually died, which can only mean they failed to guess their suit. You thought that the timid guy had told the bully the answer to be left alone, what happened to that?
“Did you not hear the bang when you were in your cell?”
You shook your head no, suddenly feeling uncomfortable from the thin layer of sweat covering your skin.
“Tha..That can’t be, I didn-”
“GUYS! WHAT WAS THAT NOISE?”
Ippei rushed towards the two of you from what you assumed was upstairs.
“Ippei?”
He caught his breath, then looked past you to the group murmuring among themselves.
“What happened?”
Chishiya’s lips twitch, probably thinking something along the lines of ‘not again.’ He shook his head and ended up brushing past you, heading towards the opposite direction where the other players stood.
“Thanks to a certain instigator, the ball’s finally rolling.”
Confused, you glance at Ippei who seemed equally clueless. You looked back at Chishtiya walking off, and gestured that you were going to catch up to him.
The white-haired man felt a tap on his shoulder.
You wanted to ask, but Chishiya always had an air that made it difficult for you to question him. He possessed such an underlying intensity in his eyes that you often blank out when given his whole attention.
“Need something?”
A small grin grew on Chishiya’s face at noticing your reluctance, and he still wore that stupid, teasing tone.
“What do you mean by that?”
You didn’t understand what he meant by an ‘instigator’, perhaps the jack of hearts had made their move?
“It means, try not to chase the ball, kitty cat.”
Chishiya gives you a small pat on the head, walking off.
.
.
.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes when he was out of view, what did Chishiya take you for?
“I miss having normal company..”
——————————————————————
In the cafeteria, you can almost sense the unresolved tension between members of the biggest group. They were all whispering among themselves, but what invaded your mind the most was the obnoxious crunching of Urumi’s strawberry pockey. It only reminded you of how hungry you were, but every time you entertained the thought of eating something, you wanted to throw up.
They didn’t even have proper food! It was all packaged and mostly snacks.
“You’re restless and you need energy. You should eat something since we won't be getting any sleep.”
Chishiya slides a packet of cookies across the table.
“I don’t want your dry biscuits..”
You slide the cookies to Ippei next to you.
“Oh, thank you.”
Ippei smiled and accepted them, opening the cookies. He took a bite, and his face lit up.
“They’re good?”
He nods, offering you some again but you shake your head. They don’t look exactly the most appetizing currently, so Ippei can have them.
A small scoff escapes your ears.
Across the table, Chishiya watched Ippei with an unreadable expression.
Watch Ippei eat the cookies he gave to you.
“I’ll go see if they have something else.”
You got up from the table with Chishiya’s lingering stare on your back, going to scavenge the shelves that were stocked with all types of junk food, from potato chips to gummy candies.
“Hmm..”
Nothing really piqued your interest so you moved to the next aisle, deeper into the storage area.
.
.
A rustling noise could be heard around the corner, and you instinctively turned, suddenly seeing someone crouching in the shadows behind a few boxes.
“AH-”
Startled, you couldn’t scream before the figure pulled you down into the shadows with them, hand clasped around your mouth.
“Shh.”
“L-mrgh go!”
You tried to pull away from the stranger, but they ended up tightening their hold, forcing you into a position facing outwards.
“Mmf?”
From the corner where you were both huddled, it provided a clear view into one of the aisles without exposing yourselves.
“You need to be quiet..or else Matsushita would hear us.” They whispered.
Matsushita?
You see a man who looked to be lingering around the shelves, staring in the direction where the cafeteria tables were.
By now, the big group had left, and the only ones sitting were Ippei and the women dressed in business casual.
Wait, then where was Chishiya?
Somebody stepped in your peripheral vision.
“There you a-”
Chishiya gets pulled behind the boxes by his arm, and he stumbles a bit before falling right on top of you. You let out a small noise that was muffled by the unknown person’s hand, and even Chishiya appears to be flustered for less than a second before furrowing his brows.
“What are you doing here with Banda?”
He said with a hushed tone, understanding to be quiet.
“Mm-anda?!”
The man behind seemed to breathe even closer down your neck at that statement.
“Don't act so surprised when you interrupted me first.” Banda muttered into your ear.
Chishiya looks to you for an explanation, but you thought that even if Banda frees your mouth, you wouldn’t get anything comprehensive out from how jittery you felt at the moment.
You avoided his catlike eyes in shame, as if you really had been caught doing something wrong.
You couldn’t help it, Chishiya was on top of you, close enough that you could smell that distinct sea breeze shampoo provided by the beach hotel. You wanted to sigh at the familiar fragrance, but Banda’s large hand still muffled your voice, his chest pressing against your back, radiating body heat.
“Mmph..”
You were quite literally sandwiched between the two, finding it harder and harder to breathe with the overwhelming feelings.
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
Chishiya pressed further, causing a grin to grow on Banda’s face.
“I was watching Matsushita.” He answered lowly.
It didn’t necessarily explain why you of all people ended up there, and you hope to god Chishiya would drop it instead of embarrassing you further.
The white haired clicked his tongue, snarkily replying.
“Where I’m from, that's called stalking.”
Tiny tears formed in your eyes, if Banda didn’t let go, right now, you were afraid you'd suffocate.
“Then that’ll make the kitty cat a stalker too.”
“Oho? Seems like this kitty cat attracts a lot of bad, bad, men.”
You were going to kill Chishiya after this. If he has no problem provoking Banda, then so be it.
“L-LET! GO!”
You tried your best to bite the skin of Banda’s palm, effectively startling him into releasing you. You took the chance to then push Chishiya off, forcing him to fall backwards and knock over the empty boxes that previously concealed your hiding place.
However, the amount of force you used also threw off your balance, and you plopped right on top of Chishiya.
“H-Huh?”
You rubbed your head, glancing up to see emo guy- Matsushita, giving you a judgemental look.
“Oh, uhhm..”
You couldn’t find the proper words to explain yourself, stuttering until someone grabbed your wrist.
“Not that I mind..but can you get off of me first?”
Realizing your awkward position, you scrambled off of Chishiya as he chuckled, dusting off his jacket.
“Matsushita, oh, um, we were just..”
Banda didn’t see any point in hiding anymore, getting up from the ground and walking over.
This must look so, so weird from a stranger’s point of view. You wanted to be freed from the situation already and run to the only normal person in this place,Ippei, for comfort.
With the most unbothered expression, Banda addressed his partner calmly.
“Thanks for interrupting, Matsushita.”
Matsushita looked from Banda to you, then to Chishiya. He looked visibly uneasy, and a pink flush grew across your face as you tried to deny it by waving your hands.
“This isn’t what it looks-”
Chishiya dramatically sighed, and pretended to be disappointed with the fakest frown you’ve ever laid your eyes on.
“Just stop, he already knows~”
You drop both your arms, even more horrified than previously as your jaw opens and closes before yelling,
“CHISHIYA!”
~AN: Thank you for reading and all of the support! I hope you enjoyed part three, and point any spelling mistakes please! :D~
Tags:@micheshiree @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @laivi @kokxm1 @huachengsbestie01 @bxcndd
^lmk if you want to be added, and if I forgot anyone.
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Round One is ready!
Results will be recorded on this Google Sheet.
It is recommended that you vote on ALL of the matches, but it’s not required. If you don’t know who someone is, TFwiki is your best friend. Or you can just vote based on vibe. That works too.
This round will run for 24 hours. I will post round two the following day unless a tiebreaker is needed.
For current and future followers who want to be notified when poll updates and new rounds go live, don’t worry about getting spammed with my non-poll post and reblog notifications if you have alerts on. I found a way around it.
Cyclonus vs. Hound ✧ Dominus Ambus vs. Cerebros
Censere vs. Getaway ✧ Megatron vs. Broadside
Maccadam vs. Rung ✧ Thunderhowl vs. Predaking
Whirl vs. Kup ✧ Tracks vs. Froid
Meteorfire vs. Hubcap ✧ Tyrest vs. Alpha Trion
Flatline vs. Blurr ✧ Topspin vs. Misfire
Dai Atlas vs. Dinobot ✧ Ratchet vs. Grimlock
Rodimus Prime vs. Hook ✧ Cheetor vs. Pharma
Star Saber vs. Hardhead ✧ Thrust vs. Smokescreen
Blackout vs. Heatwave ✧ Hardshell vs. Slingshot
Vos vs. Wasp ✧ Chase vs. Helex
Knockout vs. Silverbolt ✧ Powerglide vs. Grapple
Nemesis Prime vs. Optimus Primal ✧ Drift vs. Skyquake
High Tide vs. Beachcomber ✧ Motormaster vs. Rampage
Fireflight vs. Fracas ✧ Doubledealer vs. Quickstrike
Huffer vs. Breakdown ✧ Ten vs. Tarn
Snarl vs. Boulder ✧ Shockwave vs. Sentinel Prime
Cosmos vs. Sunstorm ✧ Crankcase vs. Trepan
Bluestreak vs. Windcharger ✧ Scrapper vs. Skids
Long Haul vs. Ambulon ✧ Dreadwing vs. Soundblaster
Optimus Prime vs. Riptide ✧ Soundwave vs. Cliffjumper
Metroplex vs. Bonecrusher ✧ Sideswipe vs. Barricade
Depth Charge vs. Brimstone ✧ Offroad vs. Ultra Magnus
Scavenger vs. Rattrap ✧ Starscream vs. Afterburner
Rewind vs. Brawl ✧ Hot Shot vs. Tesarus
Wheeljack vs. Blades ✧ Thunderclash vs. Kaon
Astrotrain vs. Wildrider ✧ Blaster vs. Lockdown
Fulcrum vs. Swoop ✧ Blitzwing vs. Dead End
Warpath vs. First Aid ✧ Perceptor vs. Ramjet
Mirage vs. Bumblebee ✧ Chromedome vs. Sunstreaker
Tailgate vs. Overlord ✧ Jazz vs. Sludge
Prowl vs. Slug ✧ Swerve vs. Brawn
Deathsaurus vs. Springer ✧ Skyfire vs. Sunder
Air Raid vs. Spinister ✧ Terrorsaur vs. Bulkhead
Seaspray vs. Kickback ✧ Guzzle vs. Runamuck
Tarantulas vs. Trailbreaker ✧ Rhinox vs. Ferak
Red Alert vs. Thundercracker ✧ Fortress Maximus vs. Lugnut
Impactor vs. Dirge ✧ Wing vs. Mixmaster
Brainstorm vs. Skydive ✧ Nightbeat vs. Inferno
Gears vs. Hoist ✧ Runabout vs. Drag Strip
Sky-Byte vs. Scorponok ✧ Swindle vs. Tigatron
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Imagine Riri finding you her roommate is an ex-Avenger
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You were a last minute type of person when it came studying for exams. Which meant pulling all nighters the day before the test was frequent for you, and afterwards you would catch on all your sleep. Once your classes were over able to sleep with peace knowing you aced the test. So once you were sleep you were truly dead to the world, and anything happening.
Your roommate Riri Williams already knew this but still did her best to not disturb you. When she entered the shared dorm room quietly dropping her backpack on the floor by her workstation. She could make out your form bundled under two blankets and a duvet. The thermostat was set on cool making the room pretty chilly, and while she was tempted to change it. She knew going to bed cold only to wake up hot later was one of your pet peeves, and didn't want to do that to you. Instead she was getting ready to raid her closet for a hoodie when someone knocked on the door.
"Riri Williams" an unfamiliar voice called out.
Riri assumed it was a fellow classmate who wanted her to take care of an assignment for them. She let out a sigh of exasperation checking her phone for any new alerts. Before heading over to open the door she had built a whole website to handle future requests, and so far only a few of her clients actually used it. "Hey I don't take house calls anymore you gotta use the website" she told the mystery person.
The stranger placed their phone over her own in her direct line of vision. "I have a encrypted file I want you to air drop it."
Riri looked up mouth open to reply but her words were lost on her tongue. When her eyes landed on the Princess of Wakanda as they widened in surprise. It took her a few seconds but she did regain the ability to speak. "You're Princess Shuri" she whispered moving back to let her in.
Shuri put a finger to her mouth walking into the room, and motioned for her to close the door. Riri shut the door in confusion trying to figure out what could the Princess of Wakanda want with her? Was she even here for her, or was it you she was looking for? While you and Riri got along pretty well and ended up becoming great friends. She didn't know that much about you or your past life. You kind of just showed up out of nowhere starting the semester a little late. Apparently you received your acceptance later for MIT months before graduation, and but you didn't decide to attend college until the last minute. Which is why you were shoved into her dorm at the last minute initially Riri was supposed to have her dorm to herself. But your last minute decision left the front office scrambling trying to find somewhere to put you.
"Um am I being recruited?" Riri finally asked with a hopeful tone.
Shuri paused to turn around giving her a dead look. "No" she answered without hesitation. "I'm here about the vibranium detector you built for the CIA."
Riri raised her eyebrows even more confused than before. "I didn't build that for the CIA that was a class project."
"A class project" Shuri repeated in disbelief.
"Yeah my professor said I would never be able to do it but to be young, gifted, and black though right." She replied not hiding the pride she was feeling as she walked around the Princess to get to her bed.
"How long did it take you?" The Princess asked looking over her workstation.
"A couple of months it took me a while to gather some of the parts" Riri started to explain. But she halted her explanation as paranoia took over. "Hold on did I piss off Wakanda?" she asked standing back up.
"Not just us this place is no longer safe for you I need you to pack your things, and come with me right now" Shuri demanded.
"Aye I have differential equations class in like fifteen minutes" Riri protested with a nervous chuckle. But then saw the are you serious look on Shuri's face, and looked away in shame. On the inside she was freaking out and wanted nothing more than to bolt out of the room. The only problem with that plan though was Shuri stood between her and the exit. So she had to stay calm and figure out another way out.
"Alright yeah um just let me go to bathroom real quick." Riri said not sounding convinced at all as she inched around the Princess who watched as she headed for the bathroom. She made halfway through the door before cursing and retreating back into the corner of the room by the windows.
Okoye walked out the bathroom with her hands folded behind her back.
"I had it under control" Shuri insisted slightly irritated.
"I said you had five minutes I gave you six" Okoye replied.
Riri watched in fear as both of them advanced on her. Shuri held a hand out as if to tell her to keep calm, but Okoye didn't look like she was playing any games.
"Get out" Riri argued. "Get out of my dorm"
"Just calm down" Shuri pleaded
Riri looked around for something to defend herself with and settled for the speaker on the desk. She snatched it up and held it in her arms ready to throw it. "I swear you better not take another step towards me."
"Mmph see how the children here treat their guests" Okoye said to Shuri in a tone of disappointment. Riri took the opportunity to heave the speaker towards them. Okoye whipped her hand out and a small metal rod extended into a full spear slicing the speaker in half.
Shuri and Riri mouths dropped open in shock at the action.
"You brought a spear in here" both of them exclaimed at the same time.
That was when you let out a soft groan while shifting around in your bed. Riri's eyes lit up with joy during all the commotion she had forgotten about you. Okoye and Shuri turned around looking in your direction, but didn't see you immediately hidden under the pile of covers.
"Y/N wake your ass up now" Riri shouted in desperation. You were her last hope there was no way they could force her to go with them with a witness.
Your eyes flew open and somehow you picked on the tone of distress in her voice. As you sat right up doing your best to untangle yourself from the blankets. Your eyes were still adjusting to the light so you could barely make out two grown figures standing a few feet away. You ended up rolling right of bed and hitting the floor in your haste to get up. But you were back on your feet immediately. "Hey what the hell is going on? Leave her alone" you demanded groggily.
This wasn't the first time Riri found herself in a bit of a pickle. There had been a few mishaps early on in the year when some guys decided they wanted to use her services for free. When she said no they would turn up to her door trying to use cheap scare tactics, or just threaten her. But instead they would run into you who had no problem putting them in their place. You assumed that was what was going on here until you finally came to fully.
"Is this your roommate" Shuri asked Riri turning to her with a grin.
"Yeah and she knows a bunch of karate and stuff, so you guys better just go alright. I'm not going back to Wakanda with y'all" she said. Although the way both of them were unbothered about your presence did have her nervous. Why did Shuri look so ecstatic.
If only she knew the truth about your secret identity.
The last time Shuri saw you was a year ago considering you were one of the few Avengers who actually made it to T'Challa's funeral. You and her were extremely close meeting each other when you paid Bucky a visit in Wakanda during his time there. The two of you bonded over being so young yet having so much responsibility. When Thanos's alien army invaded Wakanda you were there protecting her from the aliens. When they breached the lab, and after her and T'Challa was snapped away. You put your life on the line to help get them back.
Although she was use to seeing you all suited up in your hero fit, and not in a pair of sweatpants and a oversized gray T-shirt. Shuri recognized you perfectly. "Hey y/n I didn't know you were in college."
"Shuri is that you and Okoye?" You asked rubbing the back of your neck.
"Yes it is so this is what you gave up being Avenger for" Okoye answered.
"Um yeah you know the hero stuff wasn't the same after we defeated Thanos you know. Tony and Nat died, Steve got old, Thor went off to space, and well things just got weird. I decided to take a break try to have an actual normal life considering no one really knows my real idenitiy." You explained stretching your body a bit.
"Hold up what" Riri said cutting into the conservation. A tone held a mixture of surprise and anger.
"Shit Riri you didn't know wait why are you guys here hassling my roommate anyway?" You finally asked walking over to stand between them and her. Riri was still caught off guard at the revelation of you not only knowing them but being a Avenger, yet she still appreciated the way you were protecting her. She knew she could count on you.
A tiny smirk formed on Shuri's face as she took in the way you stood protectively in front of Riri. "Your roommate built a vibranium detector and made a merman with winged ankles very upset. Now he wants her dead, and we need to get her back to Wakanda where she will be safe."
There was a moment of silence as both you and Riri took in everything she had said.
"But maybe she will be alright considering she has an Avenger to protect her" Okoye added with a grin.
"What" Riri said in confusion.
You whirled around to face her with a judging look. "Did you really build a vibranium detector?"
She gave you a tiny nod.
"Why would you do that? Did you really think any good would come from that?" You continued.
"Hey are we not going to talk about you being an Avenger" Riri demanded trying to change the subject.
"A freaking merman with winged ankles is after you Rri" You exclaimed throwing your hands in the air.
"Okay okay you got a point" she agreed her eyes drifting downard in guilt.
"So are you going to come with us or what now?" Shuri butted in.
"Look maybe there’s another hey-" her protest was cut off as you closed the distance between the you and her. You proceeded to throw her over your shoulders with little to no effort as if she weighed nothing. "Y/N what are you doing put me down."
"No way we don't have time for this we need to get moving." You said turning around to head over to get her backpack. Before looking over at Shuri and Okoye who both had a expression of amusement on their faces.
"I guess this means you're going to tag along" Okoye said.
You shrugged your shoulders tightening your hold on Riri as she struggled. "I've never seen a merman before if I'm going to get back in the game. It mind as well be for this."
"Are you sure that's the only reason?" Shuri prompted eyes drifting to Riri before finding yours again. A teasing smirk on her face.
It was a good thing Riri couldn't see your facial expression, and the waves of nervousness coming off of you. "Well college is getting kind of boring too" you lied.
"Y/N wait okay just wait a second" Riri tried to reason with you. She finally realized she was getting nowhere with her struggling, and came to the conclusion that super strength was probably one of your powers.
"Just relax Riri this is going to be fun I promise okay. I'm not going to let anything happen to you roomie."
"But-" she started again.
"Hey you trust me right."
"Yeah"
"You know I'm going to protect you right"
"Yes" she sighed in defeat
"Then stop worrying" You told her as you started walking towards the door. Shuri opened it for you with Okoye bringing up the rear. "Will you at least put me down and let me walk on my own please?" Riri asked. A bit annoyed at being carried by you like some toddler she had a reputation to uphold.
"Nope you might run plus I actually like carrying you." You replied adjusting your hold on her.
Riri pouted as Shuri chuckled at the exchange.
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ohsalome · 4 months
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On that radiant Saturday in July last year, my mom and I were at a small restaurant in Warsaw. He walked up to our table, said hello, and asked if we were enjoying everything. I thanked him and asked if he remembered me. Yes, he did. I used to visit often in the summer of 2022 with my sister. It had been a year since then, and I was about to head back to Kyiv in a few hours. ‘Why?’ he asked. I told him I didn’t want to miss the victory celebration. He then told me he felt the same for six long years in Syria. We were quiet for a moment, looking at each other, when my mom started to cry, and I got goosebumps. He shook my hand, mentioned he had a brother in Berlin, and said it was a great city with good food and lots of refugees. He suggested I should visit. Not right now. We said goodbye with a hug, and I asked for his name. Samir. He used to own an antique shop in Damascus and now ran a vegan restaurant with the best falafel I had ever tasted. There was even a documentary made about him. I promised to come back to Warsaw again soon.
[...]
In the last year, Russians have targeted Kyiv with over 300 various types of cruise missiles, 14 ballistic missiles, and nearly 400 ‘Shahed’ type attack UAVs. In 2023, Kyiv had 302 air raid alerts, with the total time of these alerts adding up to 16 days. You can find all these statistics on a website called Alerts Wrapped, which starkly highlights our new reality. My friends, family, and colleagues face this every day. Those working for international companies often have to keep quiet about these attacks to keep their jobs. They are feeling downhearted, worn out, and uncertain about what the future holds.
It seems like the war won’t end soon. On January 2, 2024, Ukraine faced another widespread attack. We urgently need more weapons to defend our skies and fight on the ground. My friends and I are continuously raising funds for the Ukrainian Armed Forces, knowing this is a marathon, not a sprint. Today, I’m reaching out for your support. Please follow Ukrainian news on social media, share these stories with your followers using #russiaisaterroriststate, and urge your governments to assist Ukraine. United we stand, divided we fall.
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justforbooks · 3 months
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This is a book for readers of second world war history who like the Boy’s Own version of the conflict. The cast of characters could have stepped straight from a comic strip story. Yet the men of the SAS were real flesh and blood, “rogue heroes” as the title suggests. The organisation now famous for its derring-do, and as famously secretive, has opened its archive to the historian and journalist Ben Macintyre, so that he can produce the first authorised history of what the SAS did in the war.
Macintyre has made the most of the opportunity. The history needs scarcely any embellishment, though he tells it with flair: the simple facts of SAS activity make the “ripping yarns” of comic book heroes pale by comparison. The organisation was the brainchild of two officers posted to the war in Egypt, David Stirling and John “Jock” Lewes. Stirling was an awkward soldier, hostile to spit-and-polish and authority, charming, fun-loving and irreverent (“layer upon layer of fossilised shit” was how he described military bureaucracy). Bored by life in Cairo, he discussed with the ascetic, hard-working, serious-minded Lewes, his complete opposite in personality, the possibility of creating a unit of awkward men like himself, who wanted action, few rules and adventure in small hit-and-run assaults behind enemy lines. Astonishingly, Stirling persuaded the high command in Cairo that he could achieve something significant at low cost in men and materials. The chief of British deception in the desert war, Dudley Clarke, gave the unit its name. Already fooling the Italians with a bogus parachute unit, the First Special Air Service Brigade, he lent the name to Stirling, and the organisation has borne it ever since.
Macintyre uses the SAS war diary as the backbone of his narrative, and is candid about failure as well as the hard-earned successes. The SAS was an irregular unit, its members drawn from an extraordinary range of backgrounds – a spectacles salesman, a textile merchant, a tomato farmer, amateur boxer, and so on – with a range of motives to match. Some wanted excitement, some liked killing and made no pretence about it, some were escaping from their past, some were too eccentric for the ranks; all had to be fit, alert, crafty, ruthless if required and dedicated to the mission. Stirling was also aware that his outfit did not meet with approval in conventional military circles, which saw war as face-to-face, not behind the back. Churchill liked the force, and would no doubt have joined it had it existed in his youth. But through the campaign in North Africa, then Italy and Germany, the SAS had always to prove itself, in order to stave off disbandment.
The new unit nevertheless made a disastrous start and indeed had mixed fortunes throughout the war. The first operation, code-named “Squatter”, carried out while the handful of volunteers were still feeling their way, could not have gone more wrong. Poorly trained as paratroopers, the group nevertheless flew off into a desert storm trying to land at pre-planned dropping zones well to the rear of the enemy. They landed in the worst places, faced a Saharan downpour of biblical proportions, lost some of the troop to injury as they hit the ground, and were then unable to retrieve the parachuted supplies. With explosives so soaked they were worthless, uncertain about their whereabouts, short of food and water, the remnants of the original units made their way back to Egypt. Out of 55 men, 34 were killed, injured, captured or missing without a single achievement.
Macintyre makes the point that this was by no means the end of a madcap idea. Stirling recruited the Long Range Desert Group to take the SAS teams by Jeep or truck rather than risk any further parachute drops, and the second set of raids in December 1941 resulted in the destruction or disabling of 60 enemy aircraft. But Operation Bigamy, a series of raids against Benghazi shortly before the battle of El Alamein, was another disaster. It featured one of the most bizarre figures to emerge from the story: a Belgian textile merchant, Robert Melot. Fluent in Arabic, keen to get at the Germans, he volunteered for the SAS aged 47 as an intelligence officer. He used his range of Libyan contacts to glean information needed for the raids, but in this case Melot miscalculated. An Arab double agent alerted the Germans and Italians and the raids were a disaster. Once again a forlorn, bearded, hungry and damaged band straggled back to Cairo. Melot carried on his SAS career regardless, and died not from his many scrapes in battle, but from a Jeep accident on his way to a party in Brussels late in 1944.
The SAS came of age in the campaign in Italy, where it was used as a more conventional raiding party, the Special Raiding Service, under the command of Paddy Mayne following Stirling’s capture in Tunisia in late 1942. The Italian campaign was a particularly grisly one, and the SRS (with its core of SAS men) found collaboration with the partisans and rivalry with the Special Operations Executive (SOE) a challenge (unlike the SAS, the SOE always linked up with local resistance). Macintyre spares none of the details; the SAS fought a dirty war against an enemy they regarded as every bit as dirty. Prisoners were rare, but in return Hitler condemned irregular commando units to death if they were caught. Not all were killed by any means, but many were, just as the Germans killed all the other irregular, partisan forces ranged against them.
In October 1945 the army wound up the SAS and it continued to exist by subterfuge, a unit of war crimes investigators searching for evidence across Europe that SAS members had been murdered. In 1947, to meet the many crises of empire, the SAS was revived. What it did then and since can be guessed at, but until the postwar unit diaries are revealed, like the wartime diary used by Macintyre, the exact details will not be known.
What in the end did the SAS achieve in the war? Macintyre does not really say, leaving the narrative to speak for itself. It did not, as some of the book’s publicity has suggested, turn the tide of war. Its overall accomplishment, set beside those of the Commandos, or the SOE, the Chindits or other partisan groups, was strategically modest, whatever its tactical successes. But the SAS did bring to life the plucky, maverick, individualist hero of the comic strip, a very British way of making war. SAS: Rogue Heroes is a great read of wartime adventuring, in a long, grim war of attrition where adventure was hard to find.
Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?
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dieversa · 4 months
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Merry Christmas dear friends! I wish you all peace, light, love and warmth.
I am writing this post under an air raid that has been going on for 1.5 hours. In total, there have been 3 air alerts today lasting more than 4 hours.
It is very difficult to believe in Christmas miracles, but my deepest wish is to see the end of the war, the victory of Ukraine, the return of all Ukrainians from the captivity, the quickest rehabilitation of the wounded and the survival of all soldiers, volunteers and army medics.
Many thanks to everyone who continues to believe in us and support my country.
Hugs from Odessa, Ukraine.
And a very Merry Christmas.
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mariacallous · 2 months
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Even as missiles fall on Ukraine and troops brace for a Russian spring offensive from the east, Kyiv is looking west. The U.S. congressional fight over aid to Ukraine, entangled as it is with border policy and presidential politics, has become a matter of survival for 43 million Ukrainians. In more than two years of war, Russian President Vladimir Putin has not broken Ukrainian will. Abandonment by the United States could achieve what Putin never has.
This month, I made a 1300-mile trip around Ukraine as part of a delegation hosted by the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). We visited Kyiv and Odesa as well as Dnipro, Kharkiv, and other places farther east. The situation on the ground is changing, and U.S. political leaders should understand the enormous stakes. Those now debating the fate of assistance to Ukraine are deliberating over the fate of Ukraine itself.
The first thing that strikes a visitor to wartime in Ukraine is how remarkably normal life seems in many areas. Normal, that is, until the signs of war creep in—gradually and then suddenly.
Odesa’s elegantly beautiful theater remains open, and operas and shows go on. (Giuseppe Verdi’s Nabucco and Franco Alfano and Giacomo Puccini’s Turandot played a few days after our visit.) Yet the city was under an air alert as we arrived, and a walk along the seaside promenade revealed coiled barbed wire at each staircase.
In a mostly unheralded success, Ukraine has cleared the Black Sea coast of Russian warships—despite having a tiny navy with no warships of its own—and now exports grain from Odesa at near prewar levels. Ships load grain and skirt the coast as they head west, staying away from Russian predation. Outside the city, soldiers man roadside checkpoints to examine the papers of draft-age men.
In a town that we visited in Kherson Oblast, which suffered under Russian occupation until late 2022, virtually every building was damaged. Missile strikes, mortar fire, and machine guns took a serious toll. Many inhabitants fled the fighting, joining either the 6.5 million Ukrainian refugees outside the country or the 3.7 million displaced inside it. UNHCR and other aid agencies are assisting those who remained and others who have returned. Some never will.
We met one man in the town who stayed through it all. “It’s like you see on TV in America,” he said. “You know when there’s a hurricane and someone says, ‘It’s my home, I’m not leaving?’ That was me.”
The biggest problem, he said, were soldiers from the so-called Donetsk and Luhansk People’s Republics, the puppet governments set up in the regions by Moscow. Often drunk, the soldiers looted houses, hassled people, and carted home everything they could. A local official said that Russian troops had established multiple torture centers during the occupation.
The man’s son, a tall 15-year-old with a grin and the taciturn bearing of a teenage boy, described life before and after the Russians came. Did he miss the way things were before the war? Yes, he said: “Some of my acquaintances have passed away.”
Downtown Dnipro could pass for Vancouver or Boston, with its illuminated streets, pedestrian areas, fine restaurants, and high-end boutiques. Couples dine, families stroll at night, and the stores are stocked. Yet the war wasn’t far away during our visit; an air alert awakened us early in the morning. As our phone alerts went off and air raid sirens sounded, we headed to the shelter. Russia launched more than 60 drones and missiles at Ukraine that day, some of which made it to Kyiv. The attack set a large apartment building on fire in the capital and killed four people. Two days later, we would visit this site, where the rebuilding had already begun.
Kharkiv, Ukraine’s second-largest city, has emerged as an epicenter of recent Russian military activity. Most students there are relegated to online learning, since their schools lack the shelters necessary to protect against air attacks. More than 2,000 children go to class underground in subway stations. We visited one of these subway schools, watching fourth graders solve math problems and work on projects. Play areas took up space at the backs of classrooms. I wish members of the U.S. Congress could see the effects of Russia’s two-year war on the country and witness Ukrainian resilience in the face of relentless attack.
Ukrainians are resilient but not invincible. They see bombed-out buildings, awaken to air alert sirens each night, and feel Moscow’s newfound confidence on the battlefield. They know that last year’s counteroffensive produced few gains, and that Avdiivka’s recent fall marks Russia’s first significant territorial gain since May 2023. Diminishing supplies of ammunition and other Western-provided weapons have made the war more difficult and more costly in terms of Ukrainian lives.
Yet most wish to fight on. Polls show a small but growing number of Ukrainians wishing to trade land for peace, if such an outcome is possible. The majority wish to continue the fight. They watched Putin’s interview with Tucker Carlson and saw the Russian president’s insistence on their country’s historic artificiality. They know, from the atrocities that have occurred in Bucha and elsewhere, what Russian occupation might mean. They see the war as a fight for survival.
Ukrainians also know, however, that they cannot keep it up alone. They quietly observe that European aid (generous though it is) won’t be sufficient, either. In Kyiv, officials follow every twist and turn of the $60 billion earmarked for Ukraine in a proposed supplemental aid package from the United States. It’s a large amount of money, equivalent to roughly 7 percent of the U.S. Defense Department’s annual budget, and combines military, humanitarian, and budget support. Ukraine’s future turns greatly on it.
U.S. missile defense currently protects Ukrainian cities, and officials worry about the violence that Russia will unleash if U.S. interceptors stop arriving. Front-line Ukrainian troops are running out of ammunition, and declining access to military equipment could allow Russia to take more territory. Even factoring in the latest European aid package, Ukrainian officials (and those at the U.S. Treasury Department) project empty government coffers within months, rendering them unable to pay worker salaries or pensions. Their fallback plan is to print more money, fully understanding the disastrous hyperinflation such a move would produce.
In the meantime, U.S. humanitarian aid provides food, shelter, medical care, and other support for a traumatized population that nevertheless wishes to carry on.
Beyond material support, my visit made clear that the psychological effect of global solidarity, especially from the United States, remains vital. In conversations with everyone, from the top of government to citizens living just miles from the front lines, there was one message: Please stay with us—we can’t do this alone. U.S. abandonment would be devastating.
There is a lot of trouble in the world today, some of it far closer to home for Washington than places such as Dnipro, Kharkiv, and Kherson. A poll conducted in February by the Chicago Council on Global Affairs and Ipsos found that a majority of Americans continue to support helping Ukraine, as do majorities in both houses of Congress. Yet two years in, and after billions of aid has already been delivered, Americans might reasonably ask why more, and why now.
Calls to defend the rules-based international order tend to provoke eye-rolling derision these days. So too do descriptions of the United States’ indispensability in the face of global problems. Yet the prohibition against forcible conquest stands at the heart of the postwar global order. Putin’s violation of that taboo—if ultimately successful—would augur a new and more dangerous era. The United States, unfashionable though it may be to observe, is indispensable in resisting it.
Ultimately, Ukraine is fighting a shift from order to the law of the jungle, where the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must. In a world awash with trouble, and with huge demands on U.S. resources, the stakes in Ukraine remain very high—and perhaps unique. The alternative to continued Western support is not an indefinite stalemate or frozen conflict. It is a potential Russian victory.
This is the context in which today’s debate should take place. It’s clear on the ground: Ukrainian will to resist aggression is remarkable, but it remains inextricably linked to U.S. support and solidarity. If the United States abandons Ukraine, then the West may well accomplish the very thing that Putin has thus far found impossible.
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rooster-does-art · 5 months
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The Philippine Army Air Corps' Baptism of Fire
December 10, 1941
The Philippines was at war. The US Naval base at Pearl Harbor was bombed by the Japanese Navy, while US Air Corps installations in the Philippines were bombed by Japanese aircraft from Formosa. These two attacks resulted in heavy loses on American ships and aircraft. With the destruction of most of the aircraft of the United States States Armed Forces - Far East (USAFEE), both the US and Philippine forces had to rely on the remaining US Air Corps aircraft, as well as the Philippine Army Air Corps' 6th Pursuit Squadron.
Under the command of Captain Jesus Villamor, the 6th Pursuit Squadron was deployed at Zablan airfield, ready to take to the air in an event of a Japanese air raid. On December 10, 1941, the pilots of the squadron heard the sound of distant church bells, thus alerting them to an impending air attack. Rushing to their outdated P-26 fighter aircraft, they began taking off just as Japanese Zero fighters started to strafe their airfield.
In the battle the followed, four P-26s fought against the more advance Japanese Zero fighters. Despite the disadvantage towards the Filipinos, the squadron managed to evade the Japanese fighters by hiding in the clouds. Because of this no Filipino aircraft was lost that day. The same could not be said for the Japanese, as they lost two fighters that day, with one kill going to Villamor and a probable kill going to Lieutenant Juliano.
Over the next few days, the Filipino fighter pilots in their P-26s would engage the Japanese in hit and run attacks. In the end the 6th Pursuit Squadron shot down three enemy planes, while losing two of their own in air battles.
By December 24, due to the rapid advance of Japanese ground forces, the Philippine Army Air Corps was forced to abandon their planes, while their personnel retreated to Bataan and Corregidor to help in the defenses there. Because of that the pilots and mechanics were forced to destroy their aircraft.
The Filipino pilots of the 6th Pursuit Squadron fought bravely, despite being outgunned. Their exploits are the legendary and are still remembered today. During the late 40s, as the Philippine Air Force was reorganizing, the 1st Fighter Squadron was redesignated as the 6th Fighter Squadron in honor of the legendary unit that fought in the early days of World War 2.
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Featuring:
Rooster and @ask-jetstream as pilots of the 6th Pursuit Squadron rushing towards their aircraft during a scramble.
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lightandspark · 11 months
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Headcanons for rooming arrangements in the Nemesis and Ark for a AU.
Solos:
Optimus
Ultra Magnus
Rodimus
Blaster
Springer
Fort Max
Kup
Ironhide
Thunderclash
Windblade
Pyra Magna
Wheeljack
Perceptor
Skyfire
Silverbolt
Hot Spot
Scattershot
Rung
Whirl (for the safety of everyone else…)
Couples who share a room/roommates but romance~:
Ratchet and Drift
Jazz and Prowl
Inferno and Red Alert
Mirage and Hound
Tailgate and Cyclonus
Greenlight and Arcee + Gauge
Jumpstream and Dust Up
Lightspeed and Afterburner
Alana and Seaspray
Roommates:
Bumblebee and Blurr
Sideswipe and Smokescreen
Tracks and Sunstreaker (BAD IDEA)
Bluestreak and Brainstorm
Powerglide and Warpath
Trailbreaker and Cerebros
Beachcomber and Sandstorm
Scrounge and Cosmos
Lightbright and Glyph
Velocity and Nautica
Manta Ray and Leadfoot
Firestar and Road Rage
Flare Up and Rosanna
Swerve and Skids
Grapple and Hoist
Nightbeat and Roadhandler
Brawn and Tap Out
Rewind and Highbrow
Eject and Hardhead
Air Raid and Slingshot
Skydive and Fireflight
First Aid and Streetwise
Groove and Blades
Strafe and Nosecone
Skyburst and Stormclash and Rust Dust
Minerva and Lancer
Huffer and Cliffjumper
Bulkhead and Hot Shot
The Dinobots sleep wherever they want, also the rest of The Wreckers as well as the wreckers never sit too long to stay.
The Maximals come by as well; Optimus Primal and Dinobot, Airazor and Tigatron, BW Silverbolt and Blackarachnia, & Rattrap, Rhinox and Botanica each share rooms together and they are couples. Cheetor usually bunks in with Bumblebee and Blurr OR with Rodimus.
Solo:
Megatron
Starscream
Soundwave
Shockwave
Blitzwing
Sky Byte
Nightbird
Glit
Onslaught
Astrotrain
(Deadlock) (Until he bailed and conjunxed with Ratchet.)
(Cyclonus) (Until he bailed, rumour has it that Tailgate seduced him.)
Slipstream
Sunstorm (for the safety of everyone else… he is too hot.)
Shadow Striker
Hun Gurr
Arachnid (for the safety of everyone else)
Couples who share a room/roommates but romance~:
Megaempress and Flowspade
Knockout and Breakdown
Needlenose and Horri Bull
Exhaust and Loud Pedal
Trickdiamond and Lockdown (They aren’t really together… they are fragging and wanted the benefits if having a nice suite.)
Cons4Eva and Crankcase (Crankcase saved Cons4Eva from Shockwave.)
Roommates:
Thundercracker and Rumble
Skywarp and Frenzy
Misfire and Fulcrum
Octane and Sparkstalker
Flamewar and Thunderblast (BAD IDEA)
Spinister and Krok
Swindle and Hardtop
Vortex, Brawl and Blast Off (Blast Off WISHED he had his own room.)
Wildrider, Dead End, and Drag Strip
Moonheart and Lunaclub
Ion Storm, Acid Storm, and Nova Storm
The rest of the Terrorcons placement are unknown, as well as the Stunticons leader. Tarn is missing as well and a few other decepticons. The max decepticon, Overlord is out there with arrest warrant on him.
The Predacons only come by if they NEED something, the BW Megatron comes by to consult with the former gladiator. His most loyal soldier AND lover, BW Inferno, is always by his side. Waspinator comes by too.
Human Allies; Raoul, Astoria Carlton Ritz, and Marissa share a flat together. Charlene and Cecilia Santiago also are roommates. Raoul, Astoria, Charlene, and Cecilia go on group dates with their partners Tracks, Powerglide, Skids, and Roadhandler.
Dot and Alex Malto, our favourite couple, are living at their barn with their SEVEN children: Robbie and Mo AND their Terran babies: Twitch, Thrash, Hash Tag, Jawbreaker, and Nightshade!
Some couples happened AFTER the War or DURING the late war. Some of them including Decepticon and Autobot love matches and forbidden romances. That however is a different story it self… quite a long one as well.
The Cassettes wanted more independence and that’s why they aren’t with Blaster or Soundwave. Blaster was supportive with it while Soundwave… he just worries about his babies.
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suratan-zir · 2 years
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Another unbelievably ignorant russian comment under one of my posts. Under my recent reblog about Chasiv Yar.
This translates to: "Do you make sims content or a war propaganda?"
I won't even hide the name of the person who wrote this, I don't care. I mean, the fact that they write it to me in russian already says a lot. Where do I start?
This was a sims blog. It was a place where I had fun sharing my content and admiring other people's games. Even when I was living under russian occupation and essentially in a war zone, I was still able to just take my mind off it and relax, playing in a fantasy world where everything was fine, knowing that peaceful and free Ukraine still exists somewhere and I will move there eventually.
I can't do this anymore. Russia killed peaceful Ukraine. Living in russia, where nothing fundamentally changed in your life in one morning on February 24, you are unable to understand me. You don't want to understand Ukrainians.
We watch our entire cities being burnt to the ground, our people die from russian attacks, buried under the rubble of what was once their home. We mourn loss after loss every single day. We've learned to ignore air raid alerts because they happen so often that you simply can't live your life hiding all the time. Everyone who stayed in Ukraine accepted the fact that shit can happen to any of us at any moment. Nowhere is safe.
And while your taxes, like value-added tax from every single little thing you buy living in russia - goes to support p*tin's army and this genocidal war, while 144 million of you doing nothing to stop this, you have the audacity to blame me for posting whatever the hell I want on my own blog?
Is the desire to stop the killing of innocent people considered "war propaganda"?
45 innocent people in Chasiv Yar went to bed on July 10 only to never wake up again. And dozens of others ended up under the rubble or lost their loved ones forever. Russia killed them and thousands of others. Because they happen to live in Ukraine.
How is my desire to tell about this tragedy is a "war propaganda"?
This is Donetsk region, Donbas - the same Donbas that your modern hitler pretends to "liberate". The same Donbas where many people used to think that russia is their friend and russians are their "brothers". Brothers who came to kill us all.
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First, your country attacks mine, kills thousands of people and makes life hell for all who survived, so that later you could comment under one of my posts about this war to complain about the lack of sims content. Unfuckingbelievable.
Since the beginning of the war, I changed my blog bio to reflect what my posts are about. I also made several posts talking about what tags you can block if you don't give a fuck about some dying Ukrainians. Hell, I even made a whole dedicated blog only for sims content. But I have around 2k followers, and if my posts encourage at least one person out of these 2 thousand to donate to support Ukraine or spread the information, then it's not in vain. I have to use what tiny influence I have to help my country, just like any other Ukrainian now. Although sometimes in moments like this I really consider leaving tumblr.
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leftnotright · 7 months
Text
PROOF APOLLO WEARS HAWAIIAN SHIRTS
“The Tri-Ni-Sette machine is failing. The world will die.” “We can’t do anything going forward. Going backwards, however, is another matter.” Ryohei had his mission: To go back. To before the most recent Arcobaleno Curse, to before the slaughter of the Simone. To before the Tri-Ni-Sette System finally gave out. Ryohei was used to loss, in the ring and in life. But this time, he promises, he’ll win. Reborn had his mission: Get in this man’s pants, or die trying. After all, Reborn was nothing if not an Icarus. (Or: The ‘size matters’ fic)
Parings: Reborn/Sasagawa Ryohei Characters: Reborn (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Ten Years Later Sasagawa Ryouhei, Sasagawa Ryouhei, Vindice (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Arcobaleno (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Checker Face | Kawahira Tags: Time Travel Fix-It, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ryouhei Time Travels
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
CHAPTER 7: ...ICARUS IS FLYING TOWARDS AN EARLY GRAVE
They were going to raid the Vindice. The ghoulish wardens of the Mafia. The boogeymen to Dons and freelance alike. 
The Vindice. The very name could stop a man in his tracks. 
Reborn should have known they were going into this without a plan.
“Repeat that for me, Ryohei,” Reborn asked, staring at the man who smiled unabashed. 
They were standing on the edge of a gravel and dirt road, vineyards all around the rolling hills, ripe with sweet grapes. In the distance, cradled between two crests, Reborn saw a building, a cellar door and bistro, with a handful of tourists wining and dining on the balcony.
“We,” Ryohei said, sounding so excited that Reborn nearly forgot what the man had spouted not moments ago. “Are you going to stage a fight and draw the Vindice to us. Then, when a portal—” Reborn blinked. “Opens up, we just push our way through and bam! Vindice raided!”
Reborn stared at Ryohei, an eyesore target in his sky blue, lime green, and lemon yellow print shirt. Then Reborn shrugged. 
They were going to raid the Vindice, a plan would just make them inflexible. 
“Very well,” Reborn agreed, and Ryohei stared bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes bright, an utterly live wire full of energy.
“Extreme! So, hit hard and make it a show! We wanna bring the Vindice before the police!” 
Reborn shot him without further prompt. 
Ryohei leapt to the side, eyes wide and alert. There had been fire in those bullets.
Far off in the bistro, Reborn could hear the crowd forming, shouting and chaos taking over that cellar door. They had an audience. A direct breach of Omerta.
Ryohei spun around and slammed his fist just short of Reborn’s shoulder, hands hot and alight with yellow and gold. He punched left, right, hard and fast. Reborn ducked and weaved, a fedora-donned blur.
Ryohei stepped forward, Reborn moved to meet him, gunmetal all but at melting point in his hands. Reborn dodged another one of those bone-breaking punches— but didn’t dodge the second, nor the shockwave that erupted from those fists.
Reborn gritted his teeth and tried to breathe through the rattle in his chest, through the heat in his nose and throat. Ryohei grinned, utterly exhilarated, raring to go and ready to be alight with fire and Will. Reborn took a breath through his lips and tasted sunlight and wine.
He smelt dirt and rot.
The Vindice had come.
A spot, a portal, made of condensed shadow and night swirled into existence in that summertime vineyard, bountiful grape vines bowed away as if to hide. Chains, one and then two, lashed out and anchored into the soft earth. They pulled taut, links clinked and clanked. 
A gust of air cut through the vineyard, cold, wet and laced with the sour stench of weeping wounds and decay. 
A pair of hands reached through, clad in gloves, white and dotted in yellow. They clutched at the chains and dragged a body through. A head, then shoulders, covered in tattered and tarnished bandages—
Ryohei shoved his hand in that mummified face, “Scuse me! Pardon me! Extreme raid in progress!” 
Reborn gave a sharp laugh of shock before he saw Ryohei turn to look at him. Ryohei stood, one leg already in that writhing mass of darkness, and reached to Reborn, offering his hand, still alight with the last remnants of his Flame.
“Come on!” He urged, grinning with teeth and eyes so bright against the backdrop of the hellish portal.
Reborn reached out and grasped that searing hand, squeezing tight until he could feel every bone under sunkissed skin. Ryohei laughed and hauled Reborn up into the portal.
The ghoul gave a muffled scream into Ryohei’s smothering hand as Ryohei shoved his way through, the two men trampling over that bandaged body and into the halls of the Vindice.
“Sorry!” Ryohei called over their shoulders, and Reborn caught a glance of their doorman miserably rolling onto his belly.
Almost immediately, the two men came to a stop before a large iron and stone door. It looked hefty and solid, far heavier than Reborn could move—
Ryohei barrelled forward without pause, reeled his fist back and in a blaze of gold and sunlight smashed his fist into the door. It gave a boom that resounded through the room, and Reborn felt his eardrums flex under the force. A crack ripped up the centre of that door and Ryohei twisted and swung again, Flames crawling out from between his clenched fingers.
The door gave a great groan before Reborn threw his arms up and covered his face as rocks and gravel showered the entryway. He huffed and dusted himself off.
Ryohei stood in the empty doorway, his hands clenched at his sides with fire and light crawling up his arms. He let out a breath through his teeth, bared in a grin as the last of the dust settled and rocks scattered the floor. 
Ryohei took off and Reborn didn’t waste a moment to follow.
Reborn looked around as they ran through the maze of halls almost Roman in structure, tall, looming ceilings and stone pillars that towered so high they almost seemed to curve. It was dark, and damp, and reeked of rot and something he could only describe as centuries of condensed resentment. 
Reborn took it all in with lavish and glory. 
Reborn had raided the Vindice. Who the fuck did that?
He nearly crashed into Ryohei’s back as they came to a sharp stop, shoes kicking up water from the shallow puddles that pooled between the old bricks on the floor. Reborn looked around Ryohei to see two members of Vindice, floating like wraiths in their way, chains hanging from their hands and writhing like snakes.
“Hi!” Ryohei greeted and Reborn was utterly enthused. “Long time no see! It’s me, Ryohei, good to see you! You guys know where Bermuda is? There’s no, like, signs or anything around.”
Reborn scoffed hard enough to hurt his throat, and then stepped around Ryohei to join him at his side. “Yes, I would recommend a directory or at least plaques on the doors. Does wonders for efficiency.”
Ryohei beamed at Reborn, “See!”
The Vindice continued to look at the two men who stood before them. One turned their head to the ghoul beside them, “Could we—”
“No,” the second said and chains lashed forth.
“I think we’re getting through to them!” Ryohei cheered as they broke apart and dove from those chains. 
Reborn shot twice, the thought of holding back not even crossing his mind as the wraiths dashed toward them. He jumped and danced around the chains that snapped at his ankles and snatched at his waist, trying to bind him up and tie him down. 
A Vindice reached for Reborn and he spun around, gun out and ready and sent a Sun-laced bullet directly at the wraith’s chest. The ghoul dropped to the wet floor, bandages soaking in the brown, gritty water.
Reborn ran around the body and joined Ryohei as the man ducked and weaved the chains sent at him. Ryohei laughed, grabbed a chain and yanked the Vindice towards him. The wraith grunted as Ryohei’s Flaming fist caught him in the stomach, folding over the man’s arm — it almost looked like the wraith didn’t have bones, just a bundle of bandages shaped as a man.
Reborn raised his pistol and aimed for that top-hat-donned head— He whipped around and shot three times, deflecting the chains that had lashed out towards him.
The Vindice ghoul with soaking bandages lurched toward him, a bullet hole still blazing in his chest. 
“Oh yeah! The Vindice are kind of undead!” Ryohei called out over the sound of gunfire and metal clangs. 
“Excellent timing, Ryohei,” Reborn hummed, and continued to unload his pistol into his target, staggering them over and over as he backed into Ryohei. “So, what’s the plan? We can’t kill them.”
“Just gotta find Bermuda! Or Jaeger, he works too!” Ryohei answered simply.  
“You still haven’t told me who Bermuda is.”
“Who are you to speak his name—” Ryohei slammed his fist into the Vindice’s jaw and sent that bedraggled body careening into a pillar.
“Their Boss! He’s here somewhere, keep going!” 
“We’re trying to find the Vindice Boss?” Reborn asked as they took off down the winding halls again, leaving behind their assailants. 
“Yeah!” Ryohei nodded and they came to another door, locked shut.
Reborn raised his pistol and shot the lock, fire and Sun making the metal burn red hot and malleable as Ryohei barrelled into the door and bashed it open. The lock went skittering across the floor as the two men continued on their path.
“Stop where you are,” a Vindice rumbled, standing in their path, chains lying on the floor all around.
“You know where Bermuda’s office is!?” Ryohei called out, still running full speed.
“You will not go further—”
“So sorry, very busy, you understand,” Reborn chimed and shot at the ghoul’s head.
Ryohei leapt at the stumbling Vindice and slammed his fist down over their head. They hit the ground and bounced, and Reborn followed as Ryohei continued to rip and tear a path for them through those ominous halls. 
“Fuck,” Ryohei cursed as they reached the end of a route.
The wall was tall and solid, heavy with interlocking bricks of solid stone lashed with ancient chisel marks. The structure was reinforced by hefty metal bars and bolts the size of fists. A single brick alone looked like too much for one man to move, let alone break. 
Reborn heard the clank of chains behind them.
They were close. 
“Dead end,” Reborn frowned, gazing upon that towering wall. 
Then Reborn looked to Ryohei beside him. Reborn’s watch told him they had been running for over half an hour. Half an hour of sprinting, fighting and breathing that stagnant, chilled air. Ryohei looked ready for more.
“A dead end,” Reborn said again, “Since when had that stopped you, dear Ryohei?”
Ryohei turned his eyes upon Reborn, and in an instant, Reborn was flush with heat. Those eyes were aglow in the abyss, fire in the dark — like he was a flame incarnate, Ryohei blazed from the inside out. A solar flare wrapped in skin.
Then Ryohei grinned with teeth and cheeks, and like a match to gasoline, his Flames erupted .
“You’re right! Who cares about walls!?” 
Ryohei turned to face the imposing wall before them. Reborn could hear the clink and grind of chains from behind.
Ryohei bounced on the balls of his feet, his Flames rushed through his veins, a fire lit in his belly. He reeled his fist back, and with an almighty boom that impossible wall came crashing down.
“Extreme!” 
Reborn looked through the dust and debris, and for a moment he was blinded. For a moment, it was as if Ryohei had cracked open the walls of the Vindice and let in the Summer sun. 
Then Reborn’s eyes adjusted, and the scene came into focus. That searing light gave way to the figure atop the rubble of the walls of the Vindice, Ryohei alight and brilliant as his Flame lit the halls — and lit the legion of bodies bound in bandages.
“Sasagawa Ryohei,” a man, gnarled and slumped, said slowly. 
His voice was gravel and ash. His vocal cords longed for the comfort of grave dirt. 
“Hi Jaeger,” Ryohei greeted, “Have you seen Bermuda?”
“You will leave now,” Jaeger said, then turned his head in Reborn’s direction. “You and your fellow.”
Reborn smiled as he dusted himself off and joined Ryohei atop his pedestal of rubble and stone. 
“And after we came all this way? You even let us in yourself, so kind with that portal,” Reborn laid his hand on Ryohei’s shoulder and felt his palm burn. “Surely you can afford us a quick audience with your ‘Bermuda .’”
There was a ripple of discontent in that mass of bandage and rot. Reborn grinned further.
“You have no room to speak, boy,” Jaeger rumbled, “You do not even know why you are here. Blindly following.”
Reborn hummed down at the man and moved to rest his elbow on Ryohei’s shoulder, leaning his weight. Ryohei took it without complaint.
“He was going to raid the Vindice. No way was I not coming.” 
Ryohei let out a laugh and Jaeger’s shoulders raised in frustration. 
“Indeed,” a young, small voice said. 
Then the crowd split in a swift motion as all made way — For a child. An infant, no more than maybe three years old, floated through the divide. 
“Indeed, you’ve raided the Vindice, a neutral territory dedicated to upholding the law of the Mafia,” the child continued, unhurried as they made their way to the front. “You’ve also broken the sacred vow of Omerta. Two unforgivable transgressions, within minutes of each other.” 
Chains rose up from the crowd, tens of them clashing and thrashing and catching the light. Neither Reborn nor Ryohei moved. 
“All for what, Ryohei?” The child, Bermuda , asked.
“An Arcobaleno,” Reborn murmured to himself. 
He had never seen one in person before.
There was no noise. No telltale sound. No gracious warning. 
Just an absolute heat that drenched the room and scorched everyone inside. The puddles of murky water on the floor hissed away with a white noise sizzle, the stone walls creaked and cracked, the metal bars groaned. 
Reborn refused to remove his elbow, even as he felt his skin scald. He refused to look away. To miss this man made of sun and fire and glory. The Coming of Apollo in mortal flesh, donned in khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. This Apollo, this Ryohei , let his Flames surge until Reborn could taste sunlight and cinder on his tongue.
“For what?” Ryohei repeated, and there was brimstone in his voice. “For what!?”
Reborn felt his collar go damp with sweat. The Vindice did not move.
“For the world as we know it!” Ryohei bellowed. “For the future we have left! For the day my nephew takes his first steps! I am here to see this through , Bermuda!”
Ryohei stormed forward, sandals clapping on the dry stone as he marched towards those Vindice figures. Reborn stood and watched, eyes wide and taking in everything without pause. He couldn’t look away; he couldn’t miss a thing.
“It has been months , Bermuda, and the Machine has not been built!” Ryohei continued, “The Tri-Ni-Sette has not been fixed! What are you doing with it!? With my family’s future!?”
Again, the Vindice was hit with a wave of oppressive heat and that stench of rot was thick in the air. Bermuda stood at the forefront and took the brunt, the pin on his hat began to warp. 
“This world will not end!” Ryohei roared, and his Flames were still growing , eating the air and all but clawing at those Flames of Night, burning the ends of those black cloaks and curling those feathered collars. “Not on my watch and I will be watching.”
Ryohei stood straight and his Flames soared high with him. He stood there and like a God of Prophecy and Light, he imposed his Will and branded it into the very walls of the Vindice’s halls.
“The Machine will be built!” Ryohei declared, eye to eye with Bermuda and just an arm’s reach away. “And I will be there to watch it happen! I will carry out my family’s final Will, and I will see it to the end!”
Fuck.
Reborn wanted to kiss him.
Bermuda’s pin plopped onto the stone, melted and mottled. 
“Fine,” he said, a short, bitter statement. “It’s more trouble than it’s worth to keep you out.”
Ryohei settled at those words and slowly, like a candle at the end of its wick, those Flames that scorched their air hushed away. He took a step back, sandals scuffing the floor. Then Ryohei grinned, put his hands on his hips, and let out a booming laugh.
“Hell yeah, no way were you keeping me out, not with Reborn here to help!” Ryohei agreed before he looked over his shoulder to look at Reborn. “Right!?”
Reborn walked towards that man, dressed in that ridiculous Hawaiian shirt. The debris rocked under his shoes; bits of broken metal cracked as they cooled down. He reached Ryohei's side, and without hesitation, Ryohei threw his arm around Reborn’s shoulders. 
Reborn swallowed, his throat parched, his head dizzy. He took a breath and said, “Right.”
“Boss—” Jaeger started, but Bermuda waved him off.
“We weren’t making progress anyway,” he scolded and floated down to scoop up the remnants of his hat’s pin. “You should know, Sasagawa Ryohei, we’ve reached a roadblock. The instructions you gave us are…disorderly, to say the least.”
Ryohei’s smile went tight, his jaw clenched. 
Reborn watched from the corner of his eye.
Then Ryohei took a long breath, the kind that swelled in his belly and raised his shoulders. He let it out slowly. Reborn felt every moment of it, pressed so close to that searing side.
“Well,” Ryohei said finally, his grin still in place — even if just as an excuse to bare his teeth at the Vindice. “I know just the dude! We’ll need to convince him though, he’s a stubborn guy.”
Reborn stood straight, bright and eager beside this man of sunlight. Reborn was ready. Wings waxed and set and ready to follow this Sun over the next horizon, for the drama and stakes of their next mission. 
They had just successfully raided the Vindice . What could top that? Where would they go next? Pyramids and pagodas? Mountains and canyons, the depths of the Mariana Trench? What high hell and great chaos awaited them—
“Does anyone have Verde’s number? Or address?” Ryohei asked the room. “I think he’s working with a university’s funding right now, but I can’t remember which one.”
Reborn turned his head to face Ryohei, his expression utterly serene. 
“Verde?” Reborn repeated, hoping he had heard wrong. Hoping that that little green annoyance of a man hadn’t been mentioned. 
“Verde,” Ryohei nodded. Then his face lit up like sun through the clouds, realisation dawning upon him. “Reborn, my man, you know where Verde is, right!?”
Reborn thinned his lips.
“Why would I know where Verde is?” He asked, more than a little petty.
They were only on the tail end of their first adventure, and Ryohei was already talking about bringing in another man! The still dizzy part of Reborn’s mind lingered on the excited gasp of ‘my man’ and the way it made his skin feel like it was on fire.
Ryohei blinked at Reborn with those same eyes so full of unwavering faith and some kind of deep-rooted trust — like Reborn was somehow everything right and sure in Ryohei’s world, a God-given truth. 
“You do, don’t you?” 
Reborn stared at Ryohei.
“I do,” Reborn relented.
Ryohei beamed, “I knew it.”
Bermuda gave a short scoff and rose up to rest on Jaeger’s shoulder. 
“Then I will leave the footwork to you,” he said, then looked to the Vindice. “In the meantime, the rest of you, clean up this mess.”
A Vindice ghoul floated over and landed beside Bermuda and Jaeger. 
“Boss, can we talk about plaques on doors?”
Reborn glanced at Ryohei. They grinned.
“Get in,” said a Vindice ghoul.
Ryohei smiled in thanks and walked into the office of Bermuda Von Veckenschtein, Reborn in tow.
Reborn looked around the office. Ancient and weathered, this office did not receive the care and upkeep of a ‘Don’s, but just by its contents, the room could easily rival that of Vongola. 
“Hi Bermuda!” Ryohei cheered as he sat himself down on an antique chair. 
Reborn sat in the one next to it, not convinced the upholstery wouldn’t give out from underneath him. Nonetheless, he reclined and raised his chin as Bermuda finally looked up, bandaged face riddled with irk. 
On his desk sat a damage report. Reborn looked directly at Bermuda and smiled. 
Bermuda sighed and pushed away the report.
“So,” Reborn began before either man or ghoul could speak. “I believe it's high time I’m filled in on some of the details, no?”
Reborn crossed one knee over the other and threaded his fingers together, looking between Bermuda and Ryohei. Bermuda frowned at Reborn and said nothing. 
“You have no room to speak, boy. You do not even know why you are here. Blindly following.”
Jaeger had said that to his face. Had called Reborn ‘boy’. ‘Little Icarus’ — Reborn was livid. He was in the dark, the fun was burning off — he wanted to bask in the light and seize this circumstance he found himself in.
Reborn knew this was going to be like pulling teeth. He had walked into something much bigger than he could have guessed by following Ryohei. The Vindice barely wanted Ryohei, a key player, here. Reborn would have to fight for his place at the table—
“Sure!” 
Reborn blinked. Bermuda's head snapped around.
“Sorry for skipping the details. Kinda got caught up in the rush,” Ryohei said and turned in his seat to see Reborn better. “So, we’re trying to save the world! There’s this thing called the Tri-Ni-Sette System that kind of powers the Earth. Like the gears inside a clock, or something. But it’s falling apart, like a rusty clock! So! I was sent to help the Vindice here make a Machine that’ll help make the world not explode! …Or stop turning. Or something — don’t really know what happens if the Tri-Ni-Sette breaks. Don’t wanna know, you know?”
Bermuda stared at Ryohei.
Reborn smiled.
“Why is the System failing?” Reborn asked, and Bermuda's hands clenched on his desk.
“Oh, so, the fuel being fed to the System was wrong. It was stripping it or something.”
“Fuel,” Reborn urged.
“Sky Flames,” Ryohei answered. “Strong Sky Flames.” 
Reborn turned his gaze to Bermuda. The Boss of the Vindice, the Head Warden of the Mafia — condensed down into the form of a child. Drained. Consumed. 
“The Arcobaleno.”
Bermuda frowned.
“ Retired Arcobaleno,” he corrected, “The chewed up leftovers of the men we used to be.” 
Ryohei smiled thinly at Bermuda, a kind of gentle grief lacing that expression. 
“Sky Flames are too light and rough for the System,” Ryohei said.
“Then what's left?” Reborn frowned. 
Bermuda sat back in his chair, booster cushions teetering under him. 
“The Simone,” he said, “The last of the Earth Flames.”
Reborn raised his eyebrows in interest and Ryohei leant forward. Reborn had never heard of ‘Earth Flames’ before. Yet another secret of the Mafia, hidden deep in the underbelly — which brought about the question: who was Ryohei, and how did he know? 
“How have you gone with contacting them?” Ryohei asked, hope laced in his tone. He was privy to the Vindice’s progress now, and he was going to know everything. 
Bermuda regarded Ryohei for a moment before reclining in his seat and said, “The Vindice have established a base on Simone Island, and have a dedicated guard protecting the Family.”
The Earth Flames had their own island . And island Reborn had never heard of . He had memorised every lateral line on the map years ago, nearly every naut of sea. And yet here Reborn sat, hearing the new utterance of ‘Simone Island’ like it was common.
Reborn glanced at Ryohei out of the corner of his eye. He could tell just by looking: Ryohei had been to Simone Island before.
Ryohei gave a sigh of relief. “At least we have that.”
Bermuda gave Ryohei a long, annoyed look. 
“So, can I see the Machine so far?” He asked.
Bermuda shook his head, “The Machine is at the Simone Base — but rest assured, you will see it once we relocate you. So you can ‘watch’ .”
“Relocate,” Reborn repeated, displeasure thick in his tone.
“Relocate,” Bermuda agreed, seeming pleased to have finally gotten under his skin.
“Relocate?” Ryohei asked, looking between the two men.
“You want to be closely involved in the Machine’s progress? Fine, I will allow it. The Vindice will provide you room and lodging within the Simone Base for the foreseeable future,” Bermuda told him. “It is easier for us if we have all the relevant pieces in the same place.”
Ryohei blinked and tilted his head. 
“I have an apartment.”
“Get rid of it,” Bermuda said. 
Reborn twitched. He thought of the vase of sunflowers and barley. He thought of the dining table with two chairs. He thought of the bed that smelt like herbs and sunshine. He thought of that window, aglow in the night, that called to him with its warm yellow.
“Sure,” Ryohei nodded. “I can be packed by tomorrow morning.”
“Good.”
Ryohei knelt in front of his closet and shoved away his collection of exactly two pairs of khaki shorts in a cardboard box. Socks, and underwear all suffered the same fate as he rushed about the apartment, stripping it bare. 
A vase, two placemats, his favourite mug and an assortment of what Ryohei had decided to be ‘good’ pillowcases were packed. His suitcase sat upright against the wall, two small boxes stacked next to it. 
His neighbours had agreed to take on his bulkier items. The bed to the couple fostering a teen. The dining table to the old lady looking for a replacement. They would come to take their share in the morning. Ryohei would leave the door unlocked.
Reborn watched all of this with dark eyes that followed him throughout the room.
Ryohei started taking down his Hawaiian shirts from their hangers, one at a time, and folded them up sloppily. 
Reborn spoke.
“So you’re leaving then.”
Ryohei looked at the man sitting on his bed, “Yeah? I mean, I need to be with the Machine.”
Reborn hummed lowly. Reborn didn’t look away. He didn’t want to — To let go of this man and this burning feeling he brought with him. To see this moment fizzle out, to see the sun set on this chapter of his story. Reborn wasn’t ready to see it end before it even truly began —
“An island so well hidden will be difficult to find,” Reborn said.
Ryohei smiled, “I’ll see you there.”
(Happy Birthday Reborn -- 13/10/23)
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