#now I have magnum bullets in my head

[silentwonderlocks]

Need A Hand Stranger? - RE4 Merchant x Male! Reader- One Shot

“Just a little further” a man muttered under his breath as he ran forward throughout the island’s laboratory, a young woman trailing close behind. It was like his mantra for the past day or so, it was supposed to be a simple recuse mission that turned into cult madness. It was no matter to dwell on since the cult had underestimated who The President of the United States had sent to get his daughter back. That man was Raccoon City survivor Leon S Kennedy, a once bright eyed rookie now a hardened government agent. This mission had been a nightmare to deal with, it was anything worse than he knew from that traumatic night. Brainwashed villagers, lake monsters, invisible bugs, royal nutjobs,a power-hungry old comrade, an old flame and more.Leon could imagine all of the paperwork he would have to write down after he returned Ashley home.

 Not wasn’t the time for thinking about the future yet, not when he had gotten out with her first, thankfully there was a familiar indigo flame up head. Illuminating the small area with its standing torch was a metal door. Inside what seemed to be a storage room was the trusted Merchant, who stood behind a small wooden table reaching to his waist, perfect for laying out weapons or treasures to eye. The Merchant dressed in the only attire Leon had seen, a long navy blue cloak with a hood that covered his body. No doubt various amounts of ammos and weapons underneath. A purple bandana with white line pattern was tightly kept around his face only revealing his eyes. Eyes that Leon swore glimmered orange in the light sometimes. Upon his back was a traveling pack filled with supplies to take him where he was needed next.

The Merchant was a strange man but one that Leon greatly accepted as a welcomed help. Leon never questioned who or what the Merchant was or his purpose for helping, he felt like he didn’t need to since the merchant was the only man who seemed to be in his right mind. Leon was curious though, what did he get out of this? The little side requests, the treasures obtained, how the Merchant seemed to be in places before Leon even knew he was meant to be there. It didn’t make sense to him, then again it wasn’t his job to ask. It was his job to get Ashley home safe and alive. You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, right? The unnamed man seemed to perk up, waving his hand up in a welcome gesture.

 “Good to see you’re still pumping full of blood and bullets stranger” Leon walks up to the table taking a moment to rest his gun on it and gives a tired smile towards the man. Ashley meanwhile took a seat on a wooden crate to catch her breath.

“Heh..thanks. Listen, I know I'm gonna be dealing with the head nutcase here soon. I need my knife repaired and my magnum tuned up please. I have the funds to cover it.” Without another thought, Leon pulls out from his pocket: an ornate necklace filled with gemstones slotted beautifully together. Leon places the necklace down on the table. The colors purple, gold, blue and green shine as he adds a handful of various sizes of gold coins next to it. 

“Heheh thank you.” The merchant chuckles, deeply pleased with the trade offer in hand. He makes quick work of repairing Leon’s knife and tuning up his magnum. 

 “Here stranger, should keep you alive a little while longer.” Leon nods his thanks to the man before nodding towards Ashley that they are leaving. The agent heads back to the door, his escort by his side, Leon pauses turning back around to the Merchant. He knew this would be the last time that they would see each other again so, it seemed like the proper time.

“Thank you for everything.” Then just as quickly as the duo arrived, they wasted no time in leaving to go deal with whoever was left in their way.

Left in his own silence once more, The merchant lets out a tired sigh rolling his shoulders. It had been a couple of exhausting days, moving from location to location making sure his persistent customer had everything he needed to carry on with the battle. Now his job was done, time to take his profits and take his own leave. The merchant took the next few minutes putting out the torch and collecting all the valuables around. Distant gunshots could be heard from his spot making the merchant half smile underneath his cover. He wished Leon luck and hoped that he would put an end to all of this madness. That was his cue to get things moving along.

The laboratory’s hallway was dimly lit and smelled of dried blood with the lovely hint of chemicals. Bodies ruined by Leon and his guns laid strewn about, dark blood splatter nearly everywhere. Thankfully no one seemed to be left alive so it would be an easy way out to his hidden boat, all he needed to do was escape. The merchant walks swiftly even with the heavy luggage on his back heading through the metal double door. 

Once inside he sees a room filled with heavy medical equipment he does not understand, he sees an unconscious man out in a big chair. Said chair had arching pods that pointed downwards on towards the man’s chest and stomach. Whatever this machine was, it seemed to have recently performed a surgery on the man. The merchant hums in thought inwardly fighting whether or not to leave the man here to his own fate or save him. He walks up to the chair raising his hand to shake the person slightly earning a small incoherent mumble. A firm shake this time results in a more understandable answer.

“Leave me ugh…alone… 5 more minutes.”

“I'm afraid we don't have 5 minutes. Get up unless you wanna have the whole island blowing up with you on it.” 

That seems to jolt awake the man who wobbles to his feet, but his body doesn’t hold him up for longer. His knees buckle making the man collapse into the merchant who catches him with an exasperated grunt. The man blinks trying to gather his bearings, then pushes himself off of the merchant with a faint blush. He notices that the man is well dressed, in a plain shirt with a leather jacket, form fitting pants and combat boots. Not a soldier, a scientist or a victim? The man whips his head around rushing to grab a backpack that jingles a sweet song the merchant knows too well.

“Shit… I.. Who are you?”

“Heheh later for now we must move.” He responds by pushing the man forward to a side door in the room. 

“ Come before we run into any unwanted guests of ours.” The man seems to understand the situation and follows without another word. The few minutes are spent cautiously moving throughout the laboratory reaching the lower levels of the island. It’s only then does the merchant begin to speak.

“So stranger you mind telling me why I found you passed on in that lab?”

The man huffs, crossing his arms with a raised eyebrow. “You mind telling me who you are?”

“Why I am a lowly merchant who goes around making his profit.” The merchant’s playfully tone was nice to see and hear but it didn’t satisfy the man.

“So does this lowly merchant have a name?” The man asked, mimicking the merchant’s tone.

Huh, even the blonde agent didn’t seem to ask for his name. Not that he cared, the merchant knew the urgent matters at hand. He wouldn’t let that info slip so easily though. “Maybe I do, maybe I don't. If you have something valuable, maybe I'll give you my name.”

The slightly shorter man smirked, pulling a golden crown suited for a king, there were five pristine gemstones all different colors.  He waves it before handing it fully to the merchant who inspects it closely before slipping the crown into his pack.

“Anthony, stranger.”

“My name is ______ Now we’re not strangers anymore.”

#resident evil 4 #re4make #the merchant #the merchant x reader #the merchant x you #resident evil 4 remake #re4 ashley #re4 merchant #re4 leon #i made this for my friends cause i love feeding into her fic addictions #i may make more of this #M!reader #male reader

[morporkian-cryptid]

Hey, y’all wanna see some more Very Inadvisable Gun Practices by Daisuke “Supposedly The Best Gunman In The World” Jigen,

the same absolute madman who brought us timeless classics like “shooting over your shoulder with the hammer right next to your ear”, “shoving a loaded gun into your waistband”, "twirling a loaded gun by the trigger guard", and of course “using the wrong ammo for so long that your gun just blows up into pieces and buries itself into some guy’s chest”?

-cracks knuckles-

Suppose you are stranded in the Middle Ages (thanks Mamou); Middle Ages People have stolen your gun and used up all the bullets, before kindly returning the now useless gun to you. Do you:

Use your gun to bash people on the head

Acquire a crossbow or perhaps a slingshot

Forge new bullets out of some random metal you melted over a campfire and poured into a hole in a block of wood, then shove them into your used bullet cases, presumably with some gunpowder that you just found somewhere

WHY, OPTION C OF FUCKING COURSE!

I sent these pictures to J (@whosayscrimedoesntpay), my Friend Who Knows Guns™, and he was kind enough to give me a detailed run-down of what exactly is wrong with Jigen. I will now hand the keyboard over to him, so he can explain why, in his own words, “there’s… so much wrong here… so much…”

What the fuck is that metal? Why are you able to melt it over a normal fire?? Why doesn’t the powder flash deform it if that’s the case?

How did you just… find a bullet-shaped hole?? Did you make it?? How did you do that so it was the right size and shape? The wood grain would affect the aerodynamics!

Pouring water on it is just a questionable idea in terms of physics. It could cool weird and possibly deform, if not have water trapped in it.

WHY DOES HE HAVE NO BULLETS, BUT SPARE BULLET CASINGS? [NB: the answer is that he had the spent cases from already fired bullets, which sent J into even more hysterics]

SAME FOR THE POWDER [NB from your local Japan History Nerd™: this movie takes place in the early 1500; firearms were introduced to Japan in 1300 so it’s not completely impossible that Jigen would have acquired some, but then again the villagers there were very clearly established to Not Have Firearms, so…]

Is he… hammering it?? Into the case?? With a rough object?? Risking deforming the bullet?? See point 2 for my point about aerodynamics.

If he doesn’t have spare cases and he’s just using old ones that he’s spent already, no he’s not. THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS.

Expanding on point 7: the whole way a bullet works is the hammer hits the base of the case, either on the rim (the flared bit) or on the center (no flare on those so these are likely rimfire, unless the animators don’t know that either) [NB: .357 Magnum bullets have a flare on the base, so yes the animators did indeed get that wrong.]

That silver bit in the middle of the base houses the “primer”, which is the thing that initially causes the heat/spark that sets off the powder. Depending on if your gun/ammo is rimfire or centrefire, the pin will either strike the rim or the center. On the picture of the spent case (on the right) you can see a dent in the little silver bit.

If they’re spent, you can’t just reuse the exact same case. The primer in the rim/center is spent. You can’t replace that.

Well, technically you can reuse centrefire cases, but you have to replace the bullet (which Jigen did, very badly), the powder (did he?? We didn’t see him do it) and the primer (same here). In the end, the only problem Jigen had with these bullets in the movie is that the aim was very bad, even though the fact that his gun even fires at all goes against the laws of physics.

--------

TL;DR: Jigen is once again defying both science and gun logic. According to J, it basically boils down to “even if the metal is suitable (which it isn’t) and the bullet is made correctly (which it isn’t) and he just… has gunpowder up his ass, he STILL needs a new primer”.

Thank you for tuning in to this new installment of “Daisuke Jigen should not, in fact, be trusted with a gun”!

#lupin iii #daisuke jigen #lupin iii : elusiveness of the fog #the hobbit rambles #elliott's nerd corner #i need a proper tag for these posts #gun trivia

[dandunn]

Oohh these prompt writings are so fun to read, how about this for a prompt... de-aged Lupin and the gang (with/without Zenigata)

I was going to skip this ask honestly because I thought it wasn't my kind of thing but I did it and ended up being surprised. Uh. Also this is only part 1. Enjoy???

Lupin is losing his shit. As in 'holding in his sides trying not to die' laughing. It's the funniest thing he's ever seen.

"CAN IT SHIT FOR BRAINS! IT'S NOT FUNNY!" Jigen bellows, the insult would be as intimidating as the throaty roar of a lion in any normal situation. But this isn't a normal situation. It comes out as the high-pitched squeak of a kitten.

Because Jigen is six years old. And adorable!

Jigen's protests only cause a fresh lunatic howl of laughter to burst out of Lupin. He wipes tears off of his face, dabbing his cheeks with the sleeve of his pink jacket. Little Jigen stamps his foot and pouts. His hat is too big for his head now and keeps sliding off.

"Oh I'm gonna die!" Lupin says breathlessly, "Where's Goemon? Did he get hit too?"

From out behind the hefty piece of machinery comes the most shell-shocked little boy Lupin has ever seen, his robes wrapped around himself like a blanket and his now far too big sword dragging behind him.

"Ohh." Lupin coos, his eyes filling with tears again. 

"Cease." Baby Goemon murmurs, his chubby cheeks turning red. "Do not say what I think you are going to say."

Lupin can't help himself. His face twists up in an effort to hold his squeal back, but it's too late, "You're so…. Cuuuuuute!"

Goemon attempts to draw his sword, but his arms aren't long enough and it catches halfway in its sheath. His feet get tangled in his robes and he falls on his ass.

Both of his partners turned children stare up at him.

Why'd it have to be me that gets stuck as the only adult here? Lupin thinks, I'm not exactly a role model!

"This is gonna be a problem if we get attacked." Lupin says, scratching the back of his neck, "Unless the guys who made this machine have a weakness for being kicked in the shins."

"Lupin when I get back to normal I am going to kill you!" Little Jigen meows again, struggling to pick up his combat magnum with his tiny hands. "How do we change back?! The controls on the machine-?"

"Do you really want me to go messing around with unknown technology, what if I press the wrong button and you both end up eighty years old?"

"Point."

Unfortunately for Jigen and Goemon someone else makes the decision for them.

They start being shot at.

"No time to figure it out, off we go!" Lupin cries as he scoops up both of his partners and bolts. Jigen tries to cover Lupin's back as he dangles under one of his arms, the knockback so severe with his underdeveloped muscles that the entire gun almost flies back and knocks him upside the head. 

This isn't good. 

They barely get out of the laboratories in one piece, and Lupin's arms are not built for carrying two deadly little children at once. He's wheezing and has had to dodge more than a couple of bullets by the time they escape.

Back at the hideout, Lupin drops the two kids before heading out to buy them some clothes (making them promise not to use the stove or stick forks in electrical sockets until he gets back. Jigen throws an ashtray at him but it falls short).

Once they aren't drowning in their adult clothes anymore they all sit down to take stock. 

Unfortunately tailored suits and kimono robes for six year olds aren't easy to find, so Jigen gets a shirt with a dinosaur wearing a cowboy hat and Goemon gets Kamen Rider.

Lupin couldn't find a miniature borsalino either, so Jigen gets to keep his ludicrously oversized hat. The sight of it keeps making Lupin snicker so much he can barely stand to look at his poor gunman.

"So, what happened, what was it like?" Lupin says, enjoying this a bit too much despite how grumpy his partners are.

"You mean what it was like going through puberty in reverse? Not fun!" Jigen says, the couch practically swallowing him up. He reaches for a cigarette out of habit but Lupin stops him.

"I may be a lot of things but I'm not someone who allows a baby to smoke."

"Fuck you."

"That machine." Goemon says slowly, "we were lured into the room with it on purpose, this was done to us to take away our strength."

"Makes sense. Everyone knows how awesome and unstoppable we are." Lupin preens, "They probably think I'm helpless without you two."

"It is true." Goemon snipes. 

Jigen folds his tiny arms, grumpily staring at the cigarette box in Lupin's hands like a regular kid would look at a box of candy. "So we break back into the facility and threaten them into changing us back!"

"What's your rush, Jigen?" Lupin muses.

"What do you mean 'what's your rush?' Of course we want to get back to normal!"

"You just want to smoke." Goemon clips, and Jigen looks like he's considering getting in a baby fist fight with him.

"I'm thinking practically! What if we end up stuck like this?! What if we have to grow up all over again; voice cracking, high school - zits!"

Lupin shrugs, waving a hand, "Something something a chance to relive your youth?"

"Why on earth would we want to do that?" Goemon deadpans. "I wish to be restored to my true age as soon as humanly possible."

Lupin tries not to start giggling again, hearing Goemon's darkly formal serious voice coming out of such a cute little package. He gets a hold of himself. "Look, when we broke into the facility I had help from both of you and now I have to think of a plan to get us back in without Jigen's shooting or Zantetsuken. Just… make the best of it you can until I do that. Did either of you even have childhoods?"

The two boys turn to look at each other, Jigen lifting up his hat to shoot Goemon a quirky look from underneath his bangs. 

"My point exactly." Lupin stands up to go back to the drawing board. "Play with some blocks, take a nap or something. Don't pee your pants. I'll be as fast as I can."

Before he goes to shut himself in his room with his planning desk, he remembers something. He turns back quickly to grab Jigen's cigarettes and puts them on top of the highest wardrobe in the room. "And no smoking!"

If Lupin had a dollar for every time a six year old had flipped him off he would have about two dollars. Which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

#sorry for being a memey little shitlord i couldnt resist #i know you said lupin and the gang de aged but i thought loop still being an adult was funnier #part two zenigata??? idk lmao #lupin the third #jigen daisuke #goemon ishikawa xiii #arsene lupin iii #long post #jesse's writing #ask a cowboy #🐇

[shamelesscloudbeliever]

Birds of Prey

Part Two

The four women opened their long black leather holdalls and prepared their disguises in the cab of the transporter. They donned raven black Louise Brooks wigs , put on their designer Ray Bans and finally their black leather gloves to complement the matching sleek skin tight black leather cat-suits each woman was wearing with such style. Sylvia turned the key in the ignition of the transporter and watched as Fiona from her iPad replaced the live video feed into the Bank’s security system with a pre recorded feed from the day before, disabled the triple silent alarms which alerted MI5 in London, CIA in Langley and the KGB in Moscow as to any security breach in this bank and finally she tapped a four digit code into her iPad which controlled the 20 ft high concentric security gates to open to allow the transporter to enter the bank’s private underground car park. Sylvia gently pressed on the accelerator and slowly drove the transporter into the underground car park. Once safely inside, Fiona locked the security gates with a new code. While the ladies were carrying out their planned heist, no-one was coming in or getting out. One safely inside the car park Sylvia stopped the transporter.

The four women climbed into the back of the transporter from the cabin and each one strapped on a SOB black leather double holster around their shapely waists where they each placed two fully loaded 9mm Sig-Sauers . They each picked up a holdall which contained a Sionics suppressed Uzi and four extra clips, more than enough to kill every man in the bank they were about to enter. Sylvia unlocked the back of the transporter and the four women stepped down into the deserted car park, dressed to kill in their leather cat suits, black leather six inch ankle boots, double gun holsters and they walked elegantly towards the back door of the bank which Tatiana opened effortlessly thanks to Fiona’s crashing of the bank’s entire security system. The four women walked towards the main double doors of the bank. Sylvia smiled “I’m so looking forward to this” she said to her evil accomplices. The four women took their uzis from their holdalls and prepared for the carnage to come. Sylvia kicked the doors of the bank open and shouted at the men inside.

“ Gentlemen this is a fucking robbery , anyone so much as blinks without my permission and I will blow them away”, Fatima you know what to do”. Fatima smiled at the four security guards who had been so shocked at what had just happened they hadn’t time to take their guns from their holsters when Fatima sprayed them with a hail of bullets from her uzi, emptying the entire clip of her machine gun, riddling the men, killing them instantly. After such a display of violence, none of the other men in the bank dared to move. Sylvia walked over to where the dead bodies of the four men lay and smiled and noticing that one of the guards had a .357 magnum took it from his holster picked it up and said “anyone want to make my day boys, no, didn’t think so”. She continued “ Sir Roger Ormsby please come to me NOW", she roared.

A distinguished looking silver haired man in his early 50s in a three piece pinstriped suit stepped forward and approached the gorgeous Sylvia. “Sir Roger, my friends and I have come to rob your bank and if you don’t co-operate in every way I demand, I shall be forced to kill everyone here and as you can see”, she said pointing at the four dead guards “ I’m not a woman to fuck with”. Ormsby looked at the woman and replied “ do you realize what bank this is, as we speak there are eight teams of 50 secret service agents from the CIA, KGB, Mossad and MI6 on the way here from their embassies , there’s no escape” “Oh Sir Roger, my friend Fiona has jammed your entire security system, to the outside world, nothing untoward is happening here” Sylvia laughed. She raised her new gun, the .357 magnum and pointed it at Sir Roger’s head, “ now everyone to the vault”. She turned to Fiona and said “ you know what to do darling you have 25 minutes”. Fiona smiled “I’ll only need twenty and she removed a Sony laptop from her holdall and sat at an empty desk and switched the laptop on. Sylvia , Fatima and Tatiana marched the thirty men who worked in the bank down to the vault, their uzis pointing at them at all times.

Upon reaching the vault, Sir Roger discovered that its door was unlocked thanks to Fiona disabling the seven digit code needed to open it. The three women ordered the men to stand at the far end of the vast vault which contained over 1,000 safety deposit boxes. “Sir Roger , Sylvia said “ we have come for one box only, the one belonging to Mr. Ian Fleming, Goldeneye, Jamaica, Box Number 007”. Ormsby knew immediately that this was no ordinary robbery because this woman had asked for the one box in the vault that did not contain jewels or substantial amounts of cash but instead contained a database which held the names of every operative in the world working for the western and eastern security services. Ormsby had no choice, the woman obviously knew where the box was and was just intent on humiliating him. He walked over the one of the walls of the vault and removed Box 007 and handed it to Sylvia. “ Thank you darling” Sylvia said whereupon she immediately raised the .357 in her left hand and at point blank range shot Ormsby in the head. She turned to Fatima and Tatiana and said flirtatiously “ ladies, kill them all”. Tatiana and Fatima smiled and commenced firing their suppressed uzis at the men standing at the far end of the vault. Passers by walking outside had no idea of the slaughter taking place inside the bank, the pitiful screams of the murdered men went unheard. Within ten seconds every man in the vault was murdered. The three women smiled at the sight of the dead men. “Wait until they realize that we haven’t even started yet” Sylvia said stepping over Ormsby’s body, bending down to place the still smoking.357 magnum on his chest.

[sword-dad-fukuzawa]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💞

tagged by: @erstwhilesparrow, thanks!!

all of the following fics are rated E for explicit nasty trigun sex, among other things.

one last run

my magnum opus; my postcanon vk thesis. this is the kind of fic you read when you're having a shit day and you want to feel even shittier before the final act catharsis makes all of it worth it. it's a story about the dirty shame of loving someone who doesn't deserve it; it's about grief; it's about wanting to end it all and the two different roads you could take from that. but more than all the ugly fighting and crying it's about the life that blooms out from between those things.

one of its first readers told me that despite being a major character death fic, it made them feel better by the end, and despite the premise being a final devastating road trip, it's really about the love and laughter that happens in spite of all that. dunno if i'll ever reach this kind of writing again. regardless, give it a read if any of this appeals to you.

leave the shells for the crows

wrote this over the course of several months. this is what you get after you watch trigun stampede's finale, devilman crybaby, and madk back to back: noncon subverted and erotic gore turned to the max. do you like wound fucking? suicidal impulses but sexy? knife play? it's here, it's queer, it's incestuous and by god, it commits to the bit. read this for the weirdest wank session of your life. knives gets to top, but at what cost?

apostate baptisms

wrote this one for a friend. a single snapshot of obscene tenderness (hair washing; bathing) subverted by obscene violence (your little brother shot bullet holes through your thighs and now you're goading him into throttling you in the bathroom). probably my best characterization of vash the stampede out of everything i've ever written. it's sexy, it's heartwrenching, and there's love in spite of it all. maybe there's a way forward. maybe, maybe, maybe. momcon if you squint but there's plenty of twincest to go around.

sparrowsong

a bit of a departure from the other four fics here: a mostly canon-compliant companion piece to trigun stampede with a romeryl focus. one reviewer summarized it as "old man fights his lust and loses." it's 12k of fierce eyed, pretty girl, no-nonsense idealist meryl stryfe trying to get into her senpai's pants. your typical age gap romance with the soft missionary sex to back it up. the ending takes the coward's way out without an ounce of shame, but i like to think it still hits like a truck.

abel with the rock upraised

plantwood feelings, written for an exchange. you ever had a thing for your boss and his brother, who happens to be your target? no? good, because it's not like wolfwood is dealing with it well. neither is vash, who has loved knives for longer than anyone on this planet has been alive this is mostly a vashwood fic with a lot of yearning for millions knives (evil, irredeemable) haunting the story. i might as well spoil it--this is a story where vash kills his twin and wolfwood gets to watch. no one is happy, everyone is miserable, and the only reprieve is death. but hey! at least wolfwood gives great head!

tagging: anyone who sees this and wants to do it! self promo your shit, guys! i support you!!

#trigun #trigun stampede #plantcest #romeryl #vashwood #plantwood

[rickgrimesdoingrickthings]

"How long have you been hiding it?"

Rick sighed in sadness and looked down. He knew it was a road he couldn't go back. She had see it...there was no point in hiding anymore. The huge red deep bite mark on his left thigh. The man took a few moments of silence for himself. He didn't have many hours left, even though he had been avoiding it- he hadn't told anyone, not even Carl. "It happened when I was clearing the fence." Richard said, his eyes holding so much frustration, even so, his voice was calm, carrying a load of sadness. "It was...it was so stupid. So fast. I got careless." The man took another deep breath, looked Beth in the eyes. "I didn't notice a walker on the floor. I got too close...I really didn't see it- the teeth went through the jeans...I got bit." He had changed clothes, but the wound had started bleeding again when he was working and Beth had seen it. The bite mark tainted in blood appearing against the fabric. It was useless to hide. "You know...after all your father went through...I didn't..." He paused. "I didn't want to have my leg chopped off. I didn't want to go through that. And without a leg...I wouldn't be able to protect my son...or any of you. I would be just a weight." Rick's eyes got glossy. "So I decided to just...leave it." He shrugged, his eyes looking at Beth's again. "It happened this morning, really early. It's almost night now..." He looked up to admire the sunset forming at the horizon. "It's been 12 hours or so. Ironically...I'm not feeling anything. Not even a light fever. Anything at all. But in any case..." Rick tapped his magnum on his belt. "I've got a bullet reserved for me. When I feel I start...turning...I'll...I'll just do it myself." Without Lori...without any emotional support, with so much weight on his back...maybe...maybe it was for the best. "I've been sick...Beth. Real sick. Mentally sick. I'm not fit to lead this group. Not anymore. Well, maybe I never was." A tear escaped his eyes, a sad brief smile formed on his lip. Gently he took hold of her nap and kissed the top of her head, the kiss longing. "It was a pleasure getting to know you. You're very strong, Beth. You'll still make your father and sister so proud." He let go, hands focusing on the shovel he had been holding, the man admiring the sunset, feeling the sun against his skin. "This probably is the last time I'll feel the sun." Rick said, calm in his voice. He already had done everything he wanted to that day. He had kissed and hugged Carl, read some comics with the boy even- he had spent time with Michonne and Hershel, and had breakfast and lunch with the others, hunt some animals with Daryl, helped Carol organize their kitchen. It was a nice day. A last nice day. Now everyone was busy doing their own thing. Rick didn't want to ruin it, and he definitely didn't want them to see him get sick and drag and drag and drag himself to death, decadent. He didn't want that.

"Maybe I'll be lucky to appreciate the stars before I'm gone." His left eye was already getting this odd color, the cyan of his iris getting brighter. His skin was starting to feel colder. Slowly, he realized it was starting. He wouldn't get near the others. He didn't know if he would die to then wake up as a walker- he didn't know if he would just suddenly try to attack them. Rick gave Beth's shoulder a soft punch. "You better go." He whispered. The man was getting pale faster, his touch absolutely cold already, the core of his body extremely hot. Rick touched his own chest- His heart had stopped. He was a dead man standing. It was surprisingly painless. Maybe it was different from person to person- how it happened. He could feel the air he exhaled warm, his heat fading from him. One of his eyes got extremely blurry, intense dead cyan- his lips were purple like grapes, he felt so numb, felt his muscles tense rigid and then this intense headache, starting from afar, so distant, the right part of his sight starting to fade. Quickly he drew his cuffs and locked one of his wrists against the fence. Then calmly, he drew his Magnum, unlocking it. "Beth...just go...alright? It will be okay." He gave her one last sad smile, before his eyes focused on the sun, his other hand gripping the metal grid, some tears on his cheeks, his other hand ready to shoot. Rick just....he just...wanted to see...a bit more of that sky before he was gone.

@thesongbiird

#thesongbiird #rick grimes #the walking dead #rick grimes rp #twd

[rose-from-ashes]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?

I am prone to picking up every character that scratches my brain. If I'm able to dig into the character's head even a little bit, I'll pick them up.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

I don't like... Not plotting. I want to talk to you first, then we can get things going. I'm also not prone to established relationship unless the characters know each other in canon and I've seen them interact. I like to start from the beginning.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

I love love love anything that really digs into emotions. The emotion can be anything. Pain, grief, love, joy. Lay it on me, baby.

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?

They pop up constantly in my head in response to conversation, things I see, music I listen to, even in the middle of writing threads. I especially love when I'm asked a question and get to come up with a new headcanon for it.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?

Due to my sensory processing disorder, I need music playing constantly if I'm not speaking to someone out loud or watching/playing something, otherwise I can't regulate myself and get stressed. So yes, I play music while I write. I'm playing music right now! (La Seine from A Monster In Paris)

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

Wing them! That said, I need to know the general plot or vibe of where something is supposed to go, or I die. It can be as simple as knowing the intended dynamic.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?

YES. I have a multitude of ships, each distinct. Hell, the vast majority of my mutuals and writing partners, I have a ship with. That said, absolutely not required.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?

Nik, Nikola, Cannibal, King, and any variation or combination of those. I'll respond to whatever, though if I don't like a nikname (ha) you will be made playfully aware.

ᴀɢᴇ?

Mid-late 20s!

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?

July 18!

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?

Black~

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?

UH. SO MANY

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Uh... I think it was Road to El Dorado! One of my partners hadn't seen it, and despite its very flawed premise, I knew he'd love it and wanted him to understand the references I periodically make.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Dungeon Meshi! Absolute delight.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?

Before the one I'm currently listening to? Magnum Bullets by Night Runner and Dan Avidan.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?

Pilaf :3

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?

Winter. Get cozy. I intend to move north for more winter.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?

I HAVE SO MANY FRIENDS... LOVE THEM VERY MUCH

Tagged by: no one

Tagging: UUUUUUUH YOU

#dash games

[zenni-gotcha]

Ahaha *debby ryan hair tuck* hello there

Could I request a Jigen x reader fluff one shot where Jigen realises reader sucks at shooting so he teaches reader to shoot with his magnum? Especially where he stands behind them to help fix their pose- Yknow what I mean? Where he mutters to them and all that jazz- Bc that’s some GOOD KUSH and I feel like you would blow this outta the water!!

Thank you and have a great day!! <3

[You are absolutely right. That is the good kush. Some of the best kush actually. So, uh, confession. I know this said fluff, and technically nothing actually happens here, but there are a LOT of innuendos because my brain went nuts, so, uh, yeah, I’m putting it under a cut with a warning just to be safe 😅]

[18+ under the cut. Minors do not interact]

You winced as a bang rang out through the air and your arms shot backwards. When you opened eyes again you saw that the bullet from the gun you just shot was nowhere near the target on the board across the way, but rather in the corner a few centimeters to the left of the circle. “Hey, you got closer.” Jigen teased from the spot over where he was standing. He had convinced you to use his make shift shooting range at the little country house that you were all hiding out at. Or, rather, he told you that you were going to learn how to use a gun today if it killed both of you. It was too dangerous to not know at least the basics in this field of work, even if it were for convenience rather than self protection. “We should just give it up, Jigen. I’m never going to be good at this!” You huffed as you sat the gun down. “Come on now. Don’t be like that.” He scolded as he walked over to you. He looked at the gun that you were using and scoffed. “Well, for starters, it helps if you have better tools to learn with.” With that he reached to his side to grab something.

Jigen held up his Smith & Wesson. You knew that this was an important gun to him, so you were hesitant to take it. “It won’t bite. Here, get a feel for it.” Jigen chuckled as he took one of your hands and put it on the gun, using his to wrap yours around it. “There ya go. Feels good doesn’t it?” He practically purred and grinned like a Cheshire Cat. You gulped and nodded, raising your other hand to hold the gun as well. “Gently, now. This is basically part of me after all. You wanna be gentle with me, don’cha?” There was no way that he didn’t know what he was doing. But, you also knew that even if he was doing this on purpose, he would deny it and make it seem like you were the perverted one here; and, truth be told, you were getting flustered enough as it was already, so you didn’t want to add his teasing on top of that. “Get acquainted with each other. Don’t worry about the trigger. It’s not loaded yet.” Jigen encouraged you to feel around the gun, using his hands to slide yours along it; letting you feel the difference from the cool metal of the upper part of the weapon and the glazed wooden handle that was slightly warmer.

After this went on for a minute or two, Jigen moved so he was standing behind you and leaning his head over your shoulder with his hat tilted back slightly so the brim wasn’t bumping against your head as much. He moved your hands so that they were holding the gun more properly now. “Keep it there now. Don’t squeeze too tight, but make sure your hold is firm enough to show it who’s boss.” It almost felt as though he was talking about how his hands held yours rather than how you were holding the gun. There was a quick press of a few places on the sides of the gun, and the cylinder popped over to the side, giving it the chance to be loaded. Leaning into you a little bit, Jigen reached forward and into the ammo box on the small table in front of the two of you. “Usually, this part goes a bit faster. But, seeing as it’s your first time, we’re gonna take it slow.” At this point you knew the innuendos were definitely on purpose, but if you were to admit something to yourself, you didn’t really mind.

“Now, watch me for these first two.” He slowly took the bullet and pushed it into the first chamber. The second followed in suit. “Next two together.” Jigen hummed as he used your hand to hold the next bullet, and guided your fingers to push it in. The other gun you were practicing with had a magazine in it, so the movement of personally loading the bullets was a bit strange for you. Thankfully for you, you had the best teacher literally hovering over your shoulder right now. “Not bad. Try pushing with your thumb a bit more this time, though.” As he suggested the second one was a lot easier to get in when you pushed it in with your thumb. Jigen didn’t say you did well with words, but the approving hum he gave let you know you did better than previous attempt. “Just two more left. Show me how you do it.” Jigen nodded toward the ammo box, indicating he wanted you to try by yourself. The fifth bullet found its way into your slightly shaky hand and then into the chamber. When the last one was in, Jigen slid the cylinder back into place and hummed in your ear, “See, baby? You’re a natural!”

You went to aim the gun, eager to try it out by this point, but you were quickly stopped. “Slow down.” Jigen chuckled as he pushed the gun back down with a hand on the top of it. “No cocking until we get you into a good position.” You about choked on your own spit, your face heating up even more than it had. “W-what?” You wheezed and you felt Jigen grin into the side of you neck. “You can’t pull back the hammer until your feet are in the right place.” He clarified. “Oh.” Was all you could squeak out, kicking yourself for giving him the leverage of being positive you were picking up on all his hints. He leaned back a bit to check your footing, one of his hands resting on your lower back as he did. “See, you got to widen your stance a little bit. With your feet that close together you’re gonna have bad balance.” You looked down to see how you were standing, and tried to fix it a bit. Apparently, not enough because the next thing you knew his shoe was next to yours, sliding your foot a bit more to the side as he cooed, “Go on. Spread those legs just a little bit more for me.”

It was a wonder you were still conscious after that, your sight now glued to the ground where the scene just played out. His hand went under your chin, however, and pointed it back at the target across the yard. Once he had guided the gun back to where it was aimed at the target, he slid his hands down to rest more near your elbows, giving you more control of the gun. “Now, use the notch at the end of the barrel to help aim. Keep both of those pretty eyes open.” He instructed and after moving the gun a bit, you seemed satisfied with it’s placement. “Good! Now, remember to keep a firm grip.” Jigen hummed in approval when he saw how your fingers danced on the gun as you fixed your hold and re-aimed. “Now, you can pull back the hammer- both thumbs if you need to-“ He interrupted himself when he saw you struggling a bit, “and pull the trigger.”

The gun banged, but this time the recoil wasn’t as bad because of your better footing and Jigen bracing you from behind. Once you had come back from your momentary loss of senses from the loud noise, you saw that you actually hit the target this time…on the second to outer most ring. “See, you got it. Just needed someone to show you how, is all.” Jigen proudly purred as he turned his head to face you. “Jigen, I hit one of the worst possible places.” You huffed noting how Jigen was practically burying his face into your neck. The fact the residue and the smoke from the shot were now filling the air was about to drive him wild from getting to enjoy two of his favorite scents at the same time: burnt gunpowder and your in general. “Don’t worry about it. You did great for your first try with it. Not everyone can handle my gun as well as you did.” The last bit he growled into your ear.

“Sounds like he wants you to handle more than his gun.” A voice laughed from a few meters off. The two of you  quickly turned your heads to look at the intruder. Jigen looked like he was about to blow a fuse. “Lupin! How long have you been standing there?!” He snarled, yet instinctively pulled you closer rather than push you away like he usually did, not being the biggest fan of public affection. “Long enough.” Lupin laughed, before he continued, “We got a lead on something. Planning on leaving tomorrow morning sometime, so letting you know in case you want to call it a bit early.” Jigen wasn’t as tense now that he knew his partner actually came out here for a purpose and not just to bother the two of you. Lupin gave another laugh and snorted, “Though, judging on what I just walked up on, I don’t think there’s gonna be much sleep for either of you!”

Jigen narrowed his eyes, but then gained a devious grin a second later. “Next lesson: moving targets.” He said loud enough for Lupin to hear as well. “The first step, turn about 120º and aim at Lupin.” This caught the thief’s attention, but he just waved it off. “Okay! I’m going. I’m going. Just don’t stay out here too late. We don’t need to get attention because someone hears shots after dark.” Lupin called as he walked back to the house. Once he was far enough away, Jigen rested his head on your shoulder again and hummed, “Now, where were we?”

#daisuke jigen x reader #jigen x reader

[askmadcomcrew]

Ok, everyone, favourite weapon?

Hank: Hard to pick just one, lots to choose from, lots of good ones. Anything with a point or an edge. Very brutal, very effective, very versatile.

Sanford: Well my hook, obviously! Y'know how long it took me to get a handle on this thing? Throwin' it without missing is a hassle if ya don't know what yer doing. Second to that? Prolly a good ol' fashioned 12 gauge shotgun.

Deimos: Sub-machine guns and pistols all the way. Me n' San do a lot of close quarters stuff, typically we're never fightin' dudes any farther than a hallway's length, so it's good to have stuff that's ideal for mid range engagements. Big fan of the MP7 personally, all the fun of a rifle round in a party sized gun.

Doc: Sniper rifles, specifically the VSS Vintorez. Sleek. Reliable. Quiet. Most importantly: Very, very deadly. I prefer to tackle things from a safe distance, any scoped rifle will be my go-to.

Tricky: WHY, MY STOP SIGN, OF COURSE!!! THERE'S JUST SOMETHING SO VISCERALLY SATISFYING ABOUT CRUSHING SOME GUY'S HEAD FLAT LIKE A PANCAKE WITH IT.

Jeb: I'm a big fan of high caliber pistols, specifically revolvers or other magnums. Some argue they're unnecessary, but most of them don't have the enhanced strength to be able to reduce the recoil so much you can shoot with pin-point accuracy. They're the best for making sure your target goes down and stays down without having to deal with the length and weight of a rifle.

Crackpot: I am quite fond of a curved sword, if you know how to use them right, you can flay someone while they're still standing. Curved blades in general are a buoyant staple.

Sheriff: Might be obvious considering I carry two of 'em, but I'm a big revolver fan. They're reliable, very rare they'll ever jam up or fail on ye, provided you treat 'em right. True for most things in this world. Big bullet's also a good way to make sure if y' hit the first poor bastard, the one behind 'em will be in for a big surprise.

Phobos: Before that bastard Christoff stole it from me, I would have given it to the Binary Sword, but now that slab of steel is insignificant compared to my newfound powers. There is no other feeling like rendering someone asunder with a blade made of pure dissonant energy.

Auditor: There is something pure and simple about Nevadean machine guns, their entire purpose is to produce as much fire as possible in the shortest amount of time. Can't say I don't see the appeal.

#asks #questions #everyone answers #weapons

[sekhisadventures]

Goblin Ingenuity

Orgrimmar, The Feast of Winter’s Veil, the Close of Year 38 After First War

“I GOT HIM! I GOT HIM!” snarled Galdia as she rushed towards the extremely festive shredder and swung her Pandaren-forged sword at it, which rebounded off it’s metal frame with a tremendous clang! The machine’s arm, spinning wildly, smacked her under the jaw and knocked her clear off her feet and back across the Valley of Strength! “… I don’t got him.” she grunted, tried to pick herself up, then fell back onto the ground unconscious.

Nitika lashed out with another blast of sunlight but it glinted off the polished metal of the robot, reflecting into one of the cliff walls and blasting several rocks free.

“Fookin’ fel mon!” snarled Mola’raum, “Of all da things ta go crazy, it’s a robot! What da fook are we gonna do here?” Grimo was the only one whose attacks would really affect a creature of metal and circuitry. Sekhi had tried overloading it by channeling lightning into it, but it had only seemed to cause it to erupt with a burst of electricity that had launched the vulpera into the side of the general store, knocking her out.

Grimo glared at it, dammit it had all been the perfect idea! The whole ‘Greatfather Winter’ thing was a great scam. Get people to buy souvenirs and have their pictures taken with Jolly Ol’ Winter and he had that old shredder bot gathering dust in the back of his workshop ever since he’d invested in a new Xiwyllag ATV, so why not paint it red and white, stuff a giant fake beard on it, and call it Greatfather Winter?

Well, he’d found that out when some of the more curious Mag’har had brought their own kid around, and the kid asked Greatfather Winter to find his parents a way to return to Draenor.

Turns out making an impossible holiday wish had shorted the damn thing out! It had a critical error, deleted the concept of ‘Nice’ Grimo had programmed it with, fried the punch card reader, and gone berserk! Now he and the rest of Savage United had to sort it out before it wrecked Orgrimmar!

Thing is the shredder wasn’t just any shredder. It was the Sky Golem he’d used before he got his ATV! It was weather sealed, made of high durability living steel created using Pandaren alchemy and damn near bulletproof! He blasted off another explosive round, the bullet’s impact echoing around the valley as it created a tremendous flash, and barely scorched the metal. “Son of a BITCH!” he swore as his twin L.U.P.E. robots charged in, barking mechanically at it.

As they did however the machine stomped forward, and one of its feet raised up… “Oh shit… No no no no NO!” shouted Grimo, “L.U.P.E! Recall! RECALL!” he slammed on his bracer frantically with his fingertips, pressing the buttons that allowed him manual override of the robots.

He had two robotic dogs, one blue and one green. The blue one skidded to a halt before rushing back to him, but the green one… he stared, the antenna on its head had been broken in the melee! It couldn’t receive the override signal! “DAMMIT! L.U.P.E 2! OVERRIDE COMBAT MODE AND RETURN TO MASTER! OVERRIDE CODE WHISKEY TANGO DELTA MU-…” he shouted, and the foot came down.

There was a massive squeal of metal and a burst of electricity that lit up the area, and the SantaShredder 5000 stepped forward off what remained of the mechanical hound.

“… rloc…” finished Grimo, his eye twitching. “… oh that FUCKIN’ TEARS IT!” he snarled, “L.U.P.E 1! EXECUTE COMMAND: FETCH THE BIGG’UN! AUTHORIZATION CODE: DEEP FRIED ASSHOLES!” he snapped as the robot’s eyes flashed and it rushed down through the Drag to the ruins of Grimo’s old workshop.

Nitika looked at him in a worried way, then yelped and conjured a shield of sunlight just as the robot’s fist slammed forward, protecting herself just in time. “Griiiiiiiimo… what is your robot doing?” she asked in a strained voice.

Grimo ignored her, staring daggers at the shredder. “That bucket of bolts scrapped my damn masterpiece! The L.U.P.E was my magnum opus!” he snarled as Edwood dropped another Infernal in its path, the felfire elemental managing to drive it back… but the warlock’s powers could only animate one for a short time, otherwise the shredder would already be destroyed.

Mola’raum glanced back at him as well, sending a freshly risen ghoul at it to buy more time, “Grimo… dat ‘authorization code’ thingy… makin’ me tink o’ somethin’ specific…” he frowned, the runes on his spear sputtering. He’d spent a lot of his power today…

Sekhi and Galdia were still down, Edwood was barely managing to dent the shredder, and suddenly the remaining L.U.P.E. came rushing back with dirt caking it’s metal claws and a familiar rifle held in its mouth.

“AH SHIT MON!” cringed Mola’raum, “IT BE FOOKIN’ TITANSTRIKE!”

Nitika grimaced, her shield faltering as she heard Mola’raum, then yelped as the shredder arm knocked her back, the seeress stumbling to a halt several yards back. It was only her impressive physical strength as a member of the tauren people that kept her upright. "AUGH! GRIMO! NO! DON’T YOU DARE!” she demanded.

Grimo ignored them both, taking the rifle from his robot’s mouth and aiming the barrel at the SantaShredder 5000. “Fuckin’ piece of scrap… everyone in fuckin’ Orgrimmar is gonna be pissed at me again, gonna demand I pay for all the shit you busted, and you WRECKED MY DAMN L.U.P.E. 2! EAT IT YA PILE’A GARBAGE!” he roared, pulling the trigger.

There was a massive eruption of lightning from the barrel, the modified titan-made weapon sending a beam of pure energy into the face of the shredder, lighting up the entire valley as if the sun had exploded! The shredder stumbled backwards several steps, smoke and heat boiling off it's face! However, Grimo hadn’t had a chance to fully charge it this time and the beam dissipated quickly, but the top half of the shredder’s mouth had been blown off along with a good chunk of the building and walls of the valley nearby. It wasn’t fully charged, but this was the gun that almost incinerated half of the city once.

Grimo tossed the rifle to the ground, then ran forward, his eyes on the shredder. “OH FEL NO! YOU AIN’T GETTING OUTTA THIS WITH JUST A BLOODY NOSE!” he shouted, slapping his belt buckle. With a beep a pair of rocket boosters on his waist ignited, catapulting the goblin into the air! He landed on its face, gripping it firmly with one hand as his other thrust into his engineering bag, coming up with a rather nasty metal sphere with a skull and crossbones on it, and a grenade pin in the top.

He tore the pin out with his teeth, spit it away as sparks began to fly from it, then grinned wickedly, “HAVE SOME DYNAMITE DOWN YER THROAT!” he snapped, stuffing the bomb into the wrecked shredder mouth, then diving back before the arms could grab him and running away as fast as he could go.

A moment later there was a tremendous explosion, half of the valley filling up with smoke!

Slowly, it cleared to reveal Nitika near the still unconscious Galdia and Sekhi, shielding them with a barrier of sunlight. Mola’raum had taken cover inside one of the shops with Edwood, and Grimo strode forward through it, a lit cigar already in his mouth.

The shredder’s top half was completely slagged, sparks shooting up as it’s voice box began working. “T- t- t- t- t- t- t-the time is n- n- n- n- n- n- n-noooooow Mid… Mid… Mid… Mid… [Twelve o’ Clock AM.]” It stammered out in a broken voice, “HaaaaaaaaAAAAAAaaaaappy Win- Win- Win- Win- Win- Win- Win- Win- Winter’s Veil to one one one one one one and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall…” it managed, then the sparks ceased as it fell forward onto the floor of the valley with a crash that shook the ground nearby, then went still.

Grimo sucked down the cigar as if he had a grudge against it, then flicked the butt away and walked to the ruined remains of L.U.P.E. 2, inspecting it. “Fuckin’ fel… chassis is totally wrecked, broken straight through in several places. Servos and joints are bent all over the godsdamn place, engine is a pile of spare parts…” he spat on the ground, “This thing survived the Twilight’s Hammer, the Mogu, the Legion, and THIS is what does it in?! A fuckin’ Holiday Mascot?!” he scowled, pinching the bridge of his nose and growling. “I can’t even get the fuckin’ parts for this thing anymore! They only ever made half this shit on Kezan and those fabrication plants are still buried under a few hundred tons of dried up lava rock!” he turned his back to it, “Uuuuugh… what the fuck am I gonna…” he started… then paused.

Nitika was holding Titanstrike by the barrel, and her eyes were deep violet.

“Uh… ah shit, look Darkhoof. Ya can’t deny that gun wound up savin’ our bacon twice now. Remember? The Soul Eater when the Mawsworn came to nab Thrall got taken down by that thing too!” he pointed out, his eyes on the modified weapon.

“Yeah, and you almost burnt down Orgrimmar with it once, and this whole thing was your fault too.” growled Nitika’s darker self, “Sunny just tried to hide it somewhere on Azeroth… but I know a better place for it.” she smiled, a rather nasty smile.

Grimo paled, “HEY HEY HEY! NO FUCKIN’ WAY! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH I HAD TO PAY TO GET THAT DAMN THING?!” he shouted, stepping forward, then backpedaling fast as Nitika’s body shifted into a mass of swirling shadow.

“Do I know? Nope. Do I care? Nope. Sunny and I agree this time Grimo.” she nodded, stomping her hoof. The air next to her shimmered, then suddenly rent in half, revealing a hole of almost perfect blackness. “This thing is going where you CAN’T get it back!”

Grimo cursed, rushing forward, but he was too slow. Nitika tossed the gun through the portal and Titanstrike disappeared, swirling end over end, into the dark depths of the Void…

“SON OF A BITCH! DARKHOOF WHAT THE FEL?! A FEW MORE MODIFICATIONS AND IT WOULD HAVE BEEN PERFECTLY SAFE!” he screamed as the portal slammed shut, “I… I…” he glared at her, and for a moment it almost looked like anger would win out over survival instincts… but then the goblin just growled, turned around, and took an empty sack out of his pack. He gathered up the remains of the destroyed L.U.P.E. bot into it before storming back through Orgrimmar towards Bilgewater Harbor.

Savage United HQ, two months later, Year 39 After First War

Grimo was hard at work in his workshop, a loud banging sound coming from inside as he riveted the last few pieces into place. He’d lost a robot and a gun… but he was a goblin godsdammit! He knew how he could fix both problems in one go…

He did a quick wielding job once the rivets were in place, then raised up his goggles and nodded, “That oughta do it… ain’t gonna be as good as before, but fuck it…” he smirked, “It’ll do.”

As he did Nitika walked into the workshop, having to lean down to get under the doorframe. It was big, but so was she. “Grimo, we’ve still got a few people in Orgrimmar making claims for that mess from Winter’s Veil. The others are all out doing some contracts but its time you got out there too. ‘Leader’ or not, it was YOUR damn robot that…” she paused, noticing that he was standing with the satisfaction of someone who had just completed something important and taking a quick inventory of nearby exits and things big enough to hide behind.

“Yeah yeah, fine, need ta test this baby out anyways.” he grinned, hefting the object. “Feast yer eyes Nitika! A custom-made Deadshot Handcannon!” he grinned toothily, cocking the rifle.

It was chromed, it had twin razor-sharp bayonets, it had spikes along the top of the barrel… the thing  looked dangerous to even hold!

“Melted down the old L.U.P.E. chassis to make this baby. Accurate at up to two hundred paces, telescopic scope, quick loading bullet chamber that can house all sorts of nasty shit, full automatic mode for emergencies… I mean… I lost a dog and a gun, had ta figure SOMEthing out…” he glared at her, the goblin still sore about what Darkhoof had done.

Nitika frowned, “We’re not apologizing Grimo. Titanstrike was too damn dangerous.” she replied, folding her arms over her torso.

“Yeah yeah, whatever…” he grunted, holstering his new gun and walking past her into the lobby, taking a stack of contracts and flipping through them.

“Lets see… furblogs giving some builders a headache nearby, nah Sekhi threw a fit last time… ogres obstructing passage through the Southern Barrens and demanding heavy tolls… nah, that one got sorted by one of the guilds last month, this is old…” he crumpled it up, tossing it away, “Naga incursion, ain’t testing how waterproof this thing is yet… AHA! Scourge sightings near Felwood! We got a winner BAYBEE!” he smirked, tucking that contract into his bag and pressing a button on his bracer. There was a distant beep as the intact L.U.P.E. bot ran out of his quarters and joined him, “Goin’ out on a weapons test Nitts! Don’t wait up!” he called as he ambled out of the office to where his ATV was parked.

Nitika sighed, shaking her head in annoyance, “Whatever…” she muttered, glancing at the contract stack. Half of them were from Autumn, but the other half were more recent…

She flipped through a few, then her eyes widened. “Oh fel…” she whispered, reaching for her gemstone and drawing a rune on it, then looking up as she heard a whistling coming from the backroom. She stuck her head through and scowled, “DAMMIT GRIMO!” she shouted as she saw his own gemstone on the workbench, forgotten. “Right, fine then…” she snorted in annoyance, drawing another rune…

The Ashenvale/Felwood border, some hours later

Grimo landed his ATV and climbed out, the L.U.P.E. hopping out of the back and running next to it’s creator, then matching his pace as he walked through the trees. Most of the Night Elf territories were still abandoned, their people loath to come back to a land that had seen so much bloodshed and destruction, especially now that they were so few. Between Sylvannas at Darkshore and Arthas at Silvermoon elves had practically become an endangered species on Azeroth.

The Felwood hadn’t always been that, once it was just as lush and vibrant as any other part of Northern Kalimdor until the Third War. When the Legion came their passage blighted the land, scarring it with a taint that would take generations to remove, if it ever could be, which made it an ideal place for certain types of beings.

Grimo stopped at the edge of the forest, then flipped down his goggles and activated his N.M.E. meter, NecroMantic Energy. He scanned around, then frowned as he found a huge concentration of the stuff. “Shit… well, the contract said they were being led by someone. Maybe it’s a rogue death knight or somethin’…” he muttered, reaching down to his belt and flicking a switch. With a shimmer of light both he and the robot became, if not truly invisible, very VERY hard to see… as if their bodies had suddenly gone see-through. They were still there, the view was oddly distorted where they were, but a casual glance would reveal nothing and even then it’d take a sentient mind to recognize something was amiss…

Grimo strode through the blighted woods, frowning as he did, his rifle at the ready. “Hm… lets see…” he muttered, walking at a slow measured pace. He may be a goblin, but he wasn’t an idiot. Infact, the only one of their circle of allies who was likely smarter than him in pure book smarts would be Nelen himself. But while the mage would use his knowledge to, say, plumb the secrets of the cosmos Grimo would use his to design a better bomb, then use it.

Eventually he reached a clearing, then swore under his breath and raised his goggles. “Okay… the contract didn’t say that damn many…”

The clearing was very big and full of half-collapsed buildings in the kal'dorei style. It had once been a village, and it was swarming with undead. Gargoyles roosting on the buildings, ghouls padding along mindlessly, even a few geists leaping from rooftop to rooftop as they cackled madly and floating along through it was a Lich… except, he wasn’t alone.

“Oh fel…” whispered Grimo as his large bat-like ears picked up their words.

“So yes, while I certainly know the land and the forces arrayed against us, I lack the means to be direct. Orgrimmar is too close to us here, the Horde would be upon us in minutes if we were to strike even a small settlement…” spoke the skeletal necromancer, “I believe it would be in our best interests to recognize that your master would be the obvious candidate to replace the true lord of the Scourge now that Zovaal has been… deposed.”

A figure stood near him, nodding slowly. A huge creature with ashen grey skin and glowing crimson eyes, cloven hooves for feet, and large bat-like wings. A pair of twin curling horns grew from its forehead, and it wore armor of a deep bloody red. “Indeed. I have relayed your offer to the Sire, and he is intrigued… he is eager to rebuild his power after Renethal’s coup. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement…”

Grimo’s eyes bulged. A dreadlord, and not only that, but they were also talking about the ‘Sire!’ That could only mean one being… “Fuckin’ fel, this shit involves Denathrius?!” he hissed under his breath. “This is way outta my pay grade… I need to get the fel outta here…” he whispered, slowly backing up, then stopping as he came into contact with something hard.

He reached up, feeling over what was behind him, then slowly turned and looked up into the bat-like features of a gargoyle that had landed behind him. The goblin was still invisible, but the creature could clearly tell something was there.

“… fuck.” he whimpered as its wings spread as if to wrap around what was infront of it and then the goblin panicked, jammed his rifle under its chin, and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed across the glade and the gargoyle went down headless!

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” demanded the dreadlord, his head snapping around in Grimo’s direction.

The Lich waved a hand, motes of darkness trailing from it, and the goblin swore as his stealth belt shorted out, he and his robot becoming visible again!

“A Horde spy! MINIONS! CAPTURE THE GOBLIN! HE MUST NOT ESCAPE!” commanded the lich as every undead in the village immediately turned to face Grimo.

“Oh shit…” swore the goblin, readying his rifle as his hand went to his bomb bag, but the undead massively outnumbered him, there had to at least be a hundred that he could see!

Suddenly the bushes rustled, and a swarm of undead erupted from behind as well! Grimo felt his heart lodge in his throat, but these undead ran past him and dove towards the ones in the village!

“GO GET ‘EM BRUDDAHS! SHOW ‘EM DA POWER OF DA EBON BLADE!” shouted a trollish voice.

Grimo started, then looked back, “Mola?!” he asked in surprise.

The death knight ran into the clearing next to him, spear at the ready. “You are one fookin’ lucky gobbo Grimo… yanno how hard it was ta find ya?!” he snorted at him, his communication gem in his hand, “OI! It be Mola’raum! I got ‘im, tell da odders ta head fer me!” he said into it, then stuffed it away.

Grimo turned back to the melee as the Lich snarled in fury, beginning to glide forward, and then there was a cry from above and a lightning bolt slammed down into the ground before him, electricity arcing along the path! Grimo knew that one, it was a shaman’s spell!

When the dust cleared however it wasn’t a shaman, but two! A huge pandaren man stood there, a vulpera girl sitting on his shoulder! The fox-like woman jumped down onto the ground as he drew a pair of maces from his belt, grinning at the undead forces. “Oh this’ll be FUN…” chuckled Zhan-min, “Ready ta light ‘em up lil’ missy?” he asked Sekhi.

The vulpera shuddered, the sound of Felwood’s song making her head and heart ache, but she nodded firmly, “Y-yeah!” she yipped, pulling out her flute and staring down the undead mob and from behind them Grimo heard the sound of many approaching feet.

“AVALON! CHARGE! TAKE THE SCOURGE TA PIECES!” came the voice of Dareley Steelhammer as the paladin rode into view astride his blessed ram. A burst of holy light erupted from his sword and tore into several ghouls before him, burning their undead flesh to ashes.

Jaie leapt over a nearby bush, rolling as she landed and turning it into a diving kick at a geist. Her foot connected with the gangly creature’s head, sending it flying free of its body before she grabbed her spear and lashed out. The tip slashed into several ghouls as she channeled her chi through the weapon as well, the energies of life blasting away the enchantments animating their dead flesh!

A group of undead mages began to channel a spell at them, but one of them suddenly screamed as it’s body erupted in purple light, then it crumpled into a pile of bones as its magic and soul were ripped away by a pair of void crystal daggers. Samantha Montebank grinned as she dove at another, lashing out with Annulus’ Void-borne power.

Grimo’s head turned this way and that, his eyes wide, “Ain’t complain’ Mola, but what the fel is Avalon doin’ here?” he asked.

There was a loud crunching behind him as Nitika strode into view, “That contract you grabbed was old Grimo,” she frowned, smacking him upside the head before dropping his communication gemstone into his hands, the goblin almost fumbling it. “The updated one noted that they’d identified the leader as a lich and that the undead force was a lot bigger than they thought it’d be so I called in some help and Ed summoned them here.”

Nelen appeared next to him in a swirl of arcane energies, “I scryed the area before we came and saw the dreadlord was here as well. I don’t know what one of them is doing here, but it can’t be anything good.” he nodded, grinning as he looked to his side, “Ready to test out your Winter’s Veil Gift?”

Shalandrae grinned back, the staff Journey’s End held at the ready. “Driving the scourge out of my ancestral homeland? Nelen, I can think of nothing better.” she replied, “ANDU-FALAH-DOR!” she cried out, channeling her power through the stave as it glowed with sunlight, and a blast of pure solar energy slammed down into a mob of the undead, several of them bursting into flames from the intense heat as Galdia roared and charged into view, Nightpelt at her side as she raced towards the enemies.

From behind her Edwood cackled, the Forsaken darkcaster tearing a hole in reality long enough for an infernal to slam down into the undead horde as well. Felwood was blighted, but so was he! The corrupted energies of the forest empowered his magic!

Nearby Zhan-min and Sekhi lashed out with the power of the elements. Zhan-min fought up close, slamming his enchanted maces into the scourged fighters, sending limbs flying in all directions.

Sekhi played her flute, the connection it gave her to the element of air sending lightning bolts crashing down into their foes as she swirled and danced, their claws always seeming to just miss the diminutive vulpera.

Jaie and Dareley stood back-to-back, the monk’s fists a blur as Dareley slashed with his Kyrian-forged spellblade, his sword glowing with a blessed golden light. Any undead who came near were sent howling back, the Light making their dead nerves erupt in agony!

As Shalandrae strode forward and shifted into the form of a massive stone grizzly bear, Nelen nodded to Nitika. “Shall we?” he asked with a grin, his grin widening as fur erupted along his body, the magus transforming into a worgen as Nitika grinned back, her eyes flashing purple.

“We shall.” replied Nitika Darkhoof, her body becoming a swirling mass of shadows as they joined the battle.

Grimo blinked, punch drunk as the attacking army was suddenly beset by a dozen experienced adventurers, and then he shook himself and shouted, “HEY! HEY! LEAVE SOME FOR ME DAMMIT!” before pressing a button on his bracer.

The L.U.P.E.’s eyes flashed crimson, the robot rushing forwards towards the mob as the Lich roared in anger, attempting to conjure a hailstorm to assail the combined forces of Avalon and Savage United.

Grimo took careful aim, then pulled the trigger, and a bullet of galvanized rubber shot out and slammed into the eye-socket of the lich! The shot didn't harm him, but the sudden sharp blow knocked him out of casting his spell.

The lich glared at him, “Was that supposed to HURT me little goblin?” it sneered.

“Nope.” replied Grimo, his rifle already aimed at the lich’s ribs. “This is though.” he grunted, the gun's hammer clicking home with a bang, and an aerodynamic metal dart with a compressed red ball on the end shot out of the barrel. The metal object flew into the lich’s ribs, the tip burying itself a good half inch into the bone.

“… a dart? A DART?! I am a Lich! I have ascended to the highest state of undeath! What is a dart supposed to do to me?” it laughed, readying a spell.

Grimo smirked, “Hold the explosive charge in place, that’s what.” he replied.

The lich paused, looking down as he heard a faint hissing, “… uh…” was all the undead mage got out before a massive explosion rocked the glade! Bones rained down across the area, the lich's skull landing several yards away with a thud.

The Dreadlord hadn’t raised a hand however, standing back and assessing the situation. “Hm…” he frowned, “Lich, I fear that the Sire’s estimation of your abilities may have been… overly generous…” spoke the Nathrazeim, gesturing with a claw as a swirl of crimson anima formed a portal to the Shadowlands behind him. “I will inform my master that we should consider other avenues…” he nodded, walking through the portal.

“W-wait! I… I have more I can…” the lich protested as his limbs tried to crawl back towards his ribcage, but Nightpelt rushed forward and grabbed one arm. The undead worg snarled and shook his head as the finger bones snapped free and flew off into the grass.

The other arm almost made it there before Jaie’s foot came down, smashing the forearm bone in half with a loud crack.

The lich swore in fury as Grimo, Jaie, Nelen, and Nitika walked towards him while their allies unleashed the full extent of their abilities on the undead he had gathered.

Galdia had a ghoul by the legs and was spinning in a circle, laughing as the undead monster was used as a bludgeon to smash her way through several more.

Dareley’s blessed sword smote any zombies it touched. Mola’raum’s domination power was forcing the undead to turn on each other, the lich’s minions tearing their former allies limb from limb.

Any undead that tried to flee were stopped by Edwood and Guzzle, the warlock incinerating the area around the ruined village. To flee was to roast.

Sekhi and Zhan-min unleashed a stunning display of elemental chaos on any that escaped the others while Samantha and her partner Annulus dealt with any magic users the lich had managed to rally to his banner.

Anything else had to face Shalandrae, and gods help those that did… the druidess was very eager to put her new stave through a thorough workout, and it was proving a potent weapon indeed. Made as it was from a tree the druidess had planted, it was more akin to an extension of her own body than a separate weapon, and she reveled in how freely she could channel her powers. She was still in the form of a great stone bear, and any Scourge that came near her were left in pieces.

“More?” asked Grimo, “What more? Get talkin’ bonehead.” he demanded, leveling his gun at the disembodied skull.

The two glowing sparks of blue light that marked the lich’s eyes swiveled in their sockets, “… do it. Kill me. I will return to my phylactery, well hidden, and then I will come for your heads!”

Nitika nodded, “He’s right guys, he will.” she warned, “This body is just like a suit of armor for him.”

Nelen frowned, “I can’t sever his connection to the phylactery, that’s his soul. It’s too powerful to break with arcane magic.” he said.

Jaie thought on that, then snapped her fingers, “Then don’t kill him.” she grinned. The others glanced at her as she looked over, “Hey! Mola’raum! Over here!” she waved.

The troll looked up from a pair of ghouls he was forcing to rip each other apart, then shrugged and scattered them with a swing of his spear, ambling over. “Whatcha need Jaie?” he asked the pandaren.

“Am I right in guessing the Ebon Blade has a place to store… dangerous things?” she asked.

Mola’raum nodded, “Ya mon, Acherus got a good storage area. Can’t get inta it unless yer one o’ da Ebon Blade.” he replied.

“Well…” she pointed down at the skull, “If we kill him, he’ll just come back… so what if…” she nodded to the troll.

Mola’raum grinned, “Ho HO! I getcha girlie!” he laughed, reaching down and grabbing the lich’s skull, “We take dis mon’s skull ‘n lock ‘im up in Acherus where he can’t do no more harm!”

“NO! TRATOROUS KNIGHT! RELEASE ME! I COMMAND YOU!” shouted the lich.

“Or what, ya gonna bite me?” sneered Mola’raum as he drew an arch in the air with his spear tip, opening the path to Acherus. “Back inna few bruddahs ‘n sistahs.” he nodded, stepping through it.

As soon as he was through the remaining Scourge suddenly hesitated, then went wild! Half of them tried to flee, burning to ashes in Edwood’s barrier, while the others attacked whatever was closest, including each other! The remaining ones were a leaderless pack of feral monsters, easily routed.

Once the remaining undead were dealt with Grimo surveyed the carnage, sticking a cigar in his mouth, then patting his pockets for something to light it with.

“Allow me.” smirked Edwood as he walked over, snapping his fingers. A spark burst at the end of the cigar, lighting it up bright red.

“Oh, uh, thanks…” grunted the goblin. “So… uh, what do we owe yez?” he asked.

Nelen rolled his eyes, “Grimo, c’mon… not all of us are in this for money.” he smirked.

“Speak for yourself.” teased Samantha as she wiped ichor and bone fragments from her daggers.

Nelen snorted, “Anyways… Nitika told us about how big a scourge force was suspected to be in the area. We think the Horde Council was waiting for confirmation before mobilizing a military response. But… what was that Dreadlord doing here?” he frowned, looking at where the demonic being had vanished.

Grimo started a bit, “Ah shit! I heard ‘em talkin’ right before I got found out! The lich was gonna try ta make some sorta alliance with Denathrius!”

The others all shared expressions of shock and worry at that.

“Denathrius is back? Dammit!” swore Nelen, “That’s… very bad. That’s beyond what we could fight by ourselves. We’d need to warn Turalyon and Baine about that immediately…” he muttered.

Shalandrae nodded in agreement, “If the Sire does have his eyes on Azeroth then that could be a real crisis…”

“Yeah, uh, I dunno. I think we kinda threw a wrench inta this one anyways. That dreadlord told th’ lich he was gonna ‘reconsider’ it first. I dunno if Denathrius is in a spot to do anything against Azeroth yet…” he replied, “Especially now that we took this mook out.” he said.

Mola’raum frowned, “Ya… but da Sire be dangerous mon. He be da one behind what happened wit’ da stuff in Maldraxxus. Garmal ‘n me house gettin’ destroyed ‘n Krexus ‘n Akarat gettin’ assassinated. We dunno how many of ‘is dreadlords be survivin’ too.” he nodded.

Nelen frowned, “Yeah… I have a proposition.” said the Gilnean mage, his fur shedding as he shrank back down to his human form. “Right now the Alliance and Horde aren’t at war, so we can meet up in public. I propose we begin meeting regularly, every few months, in neutral territory like Dalaran or somewhere and just compare notes. See if we can’t spot something before it becomes a problem. If Denathrius really is making ready to return we need to be ready for it… if only to warn the Alliance Leadership and Horde Council so they can bring everything we have to bear against him.” he nodded.

Galdia raised her eyebrow at the worgen, Nightpelt still chewing on the lich’s arm bones. “So… a bar then?” she grinned, “If there’s good drinking I’m all for it!”

“HAH! Girl after mah own heart!” laughed Zhan-min, slapping his belly, “I’m with Galdia! Meetin’ up over drinks, lotsa drinks, every coupla months or so sounds like a great plan.”

Grimo shrugged, “Eh, probably yeah… Alright then Fullmoon. Savage United will keep our ears open. If we hear anything about Denathrius, or anyone as nasty as him, comin’ around we’ll let ya know.” he replied, holding out his hand.

Nelen nodded back, taking the goblin’s hand in his own, “Agreed. Avalon will do likewise. Zovaal’s attack on Azeroth showed everyone there’s far bigger threats than the Horde or Alliance, its time we started working together openly.”

“A formal partnership it is then!” grinned the goblin, “A… business partnership?” he suggested, then winced as he heard the familiar sound of Nitika cracking her knuckles. “Eeeeeeheh… we’ll work out th’ details as we go!” he nodded.

Wars begin because of many things. Resources, irrevocable differences, religious disputes, race, and such… but they end when people from different sides realize just how much of a waste they are and how much they really have in common with their opposite numbers.

After years of working together at a distance, it was time. The Armistice between the Horde and Alliance had yet to be challenged. Plenty of grumbling from some who refused to let old grudges go, but by and large the peoples of the Lion Banner and the Horde Flag had soured on the constant bloodshed.

What started on the day of Deathwing’s defeat had finally become official. Avalon and Savage United. For the Alliance, for the Horde, for Azeroth and all who called it home.

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#adventuresinazeroth #warcraft #fanfiction #warcraft roleplay #threeyeartimegap

[meghansworks]

The Follydeer

8 September 2023

The first submission for a Quick Write exercise of my senior year's creative writing course. The prompt was to color in a coloring sheet page and make a short story that lead up to that image.

My ticket to a million dollars was trapped under a thick net, at the mercy of the barrel of my old L.C. Smith. Her spindly legs bent in an awkward fashion, trembling against the dewy grass. Her velvety pelt contrasted against the green, and her golden antlers caught the beam of sunlight that leaked in through the trees, reflecting off of its iridescent surface as if touched by midas himself. I would like to think that she and I have a mutual understanding, that her life is a prize that is the cure to the incurable illness of my poverty. Within her beady eyes, glossed over from fear, I can see the faint glow that resides behind her cornea. It is what she is known for. 

My key to a comfortable life resides in those eyes. All I had to do was press down on the trigger, take her back to the shed and pluck those two black orbs out– each of them selling about five-hundred thousand a piece. It is said that once you cut into her eyes, the elixir of life would spill out in an endless stream. Whether this is true or not to me, I will not leave my fortune up to chance. Should that be a mere folly, then I have sucked two poor suckers dry of a million dollars. 

My anticipating finger rests on the trigger, causing it to creak slightly against my grasp. The entire commotion she had made once the net landed atop her frail body caused the birds of the forest to cease their chirping, the small critters to scurry up into their burrows, and the bugs to bury themselves back into the ground. This side of the forest had fallen silent, and the only sounds present were her shallow breaths and my own, controlled puffs. With her in such a position, I will be able to take her out with one bullet. 

Although in a fortunate situation, I find myself frozen in thought. I couldn’t quite place why I hadn’t pulled the trigger and taken what was mine minutes ago, but a heavy weight upon my shoulders simply made the action impossible to carry out. This feeling of agonizing and bothersome guilt was something I had felt twenty years ago, perhaps when I had just turned twelve and daddy took me on my first hunt– using this same L.C. Smith. It was that same November morning that I declared to him that I would bring home the grandest kill, so that he and mamma could buy that cottage up the river they had always wanted. Now here she was, all those years later.  Even if it was too late to bring home the magnum-opus of any professional hunter to my folks, they would at least witness it through the clouds. 

I hadn’t felt this kind of guilt since then. In all her nymph-like beauty, the deer of everyone’s dreams had laid her trembling head down to accept her long-awaited fate. The sight itself was enough to pull at a grown countryman’s heartstrings like a taught banjo. 

Maybe it was the memory of my first hunt, my late folks, or just her sheer beauty that caused me to step back and rip the net off in one grand motion, allowing her to scramble to her spindly legs and bound into the thicket. The last glimpse I caught of her beauty was her velvety flank passing over a bush and leapt into the darkness. They say you only see her once, and that’s it. And if you do, it was a chance given by god.

The means to happiness should never cause you to bend your morals.

#creative writing #fiction #folklore #short story #deer #forest

[grazynagranata5]

One Of The Best Water Guns Of 2023

Lawyer info for Middleton was not immediately accessible. Middleton was employed by the town's Department of Correction in January 2013 and was assigned to the Correction Academy firing range, officials mentioned. Law enforcement sources instructed NBC New York one angle within the investigation is the toy "Orbeez" Orbi Gun Chaluisant had in his automotive. To this point in the investigation, there’s no evidence Chaluisant fired it at Middleton, the news station reported. Cases involving the toy guns have cropped up throughout the U.S., with legislation enforcement agencies linking their use to a TikTok pattern identified because the "Orbeez Challenge." Some videos on the social media platform depict individuals taking pictures gel Orbeez balls at citizens with bead blasters or water pellet guns. Orbeez balls can grow more than one hundred fifty times their size when submerged in water, based on their Amazon web page. Many TikTok movies with the hashtag "orbeezchallenge" showed individuals playing with Orbeez in recreational actions like filling a swimming pool and watching the small orbs increase in water, but only a handful of posts appeared to point out individuals using toy guns to hearth Orbeez at others.

Developers of a fashionable Gyrojet pistol may use this methodology to offer it higher range and power than any existing underwater weapon. Perhaps the most intriguing hint of the place the underwater arms race is headed comes from a 2005 U.S. Thomas J. Gieseke, a Navy scientist at the Naval Undersea Warfare Center. The patent proposes a "excessive-velocity underwater jet weapon" that fires a stream of excessive-velocity liquid "bullets" -- wonderful grains of steel or sand that type a cavity more effectively than strong rounds. 2023 Condé Nast. All rights reserved. Use of this site constitutes acceptance of our User Agreement and Privacy Policy and Cookie Statement and Your California Privacy Rights. WIRED might earn a portion of sales from products which might be bought through our site as a part of our Affiliate Partnerships with retailers. The material on this site will not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, cached or in any other case used, besides with the prior written permission of Condé Nast.

Should I Cave on My "No Toy Guns" Policy? I all the time thought I’d hold firm on it, but my son is begging for a water gun. My 5-Year-Old Keeps Bursting Into Tears. We have to Get to the bottom of It. Care and Feeding is Slate’s parenting recommendation column. Have a query for Care and Feeding? We are the dad and mom of a 6-yr-old boy. As a household we're very anti-gun and, frankly, anti-weapons of any variety. Since our son was little, our philosophy has been to avoid any toy weapons. However, our son always sees children at the park with water guns and it’s become a bit of an obsession for him. If someone offers to let him play with a water gun, I let him. But now he’s been begging for a water gun. The problem is all of the water guns I discover are very gunlike. I’ve discovered myself wondering if we need to let go of our "no toy weapons" coverage.

How do you tighten the stock on 22 gauge daisy gun? What is the difference between striker and firing pin in pistols? Which is the heaviest gun? How robust would it's for those who mix a Smith and Wesson 500 magnum and a Desert Eagle? How previous is a Browning Sweet Sixteen serial quantity 0S-58789? What's the value of Colt 32 police optimistic ctg serial? Browning Citori Serial 01420H37 field grade 28 inch fixed chokes What's the worth? What's the worth of a 1973 over and below gold trigger used browning citori shotgun? How outdated is Stevens walnut hill rifle serial number 2976? What purpose is served by the grooves lower within the bore of a barrel? What's the value of a semi auto browning rifle 300mag 25 years previous or extra? What's the value of a 38 cal. What is the age of j Stevens software and arms firm 32 brief crack shot ser.? Bullet contains what kind of poision? How Reloading 32 S and W lengthy for SAKO? What 12 months for a jd 7720 combine with serial 143694? What is the worth of a 32 caliber Winchester Model ninety four made in 1920? How far does a 17th century easy-bore pistol shoot? Need a stock for western subject 22 rifle? What is the worth of previous browning a-5 slug shotgun?

At the same time, American inventor Oliver Evans experienced related achievements. Trevithick's new Cornish Engine was cheaper, lighter and smaller than the Boulton and Watt engine. Arthur Woolf further improved the usage of excessive-strain steam in 1804. The London brewery engineer realized the idea of compounding - a technique where excess steam from one piston fires a second piston and then a 3rd. This technique results in much less heat loss. While some believe Ferdinand Verbiest created a working steam car in 1672, extra proof suggests French inventor Nicolas-Joseph Cugnot made the primary steam-powered car in 1769. But whereas the analysis and growth of steam-powered automobiles continued for a while, the thought was most successful within the form of the rail-mounted steam locomotive. The man behind the Cornish Engine, Richard Trevithick, was additionally a key particular person in the event of the steam locomotive. It's necessary to notice that prepare tracks already existed in the 1770s in varied industrial areas of England.

[rourhksapocolypse]

You know, it's funny.

In the 2005 Resident Evil 4, you can often have a surplus of you're skilled. My first playthrough, I was a walking pharmacy with a decent supply of ammo. Second and subsequent, I was a walking armory with too many bullets and not enough herbs.

Now? Because I store pretty much every healthy first aid canister just because I can and because I can't get the most out of them until I've eaten every yellow herb in the game, I usually have little health (outside the beginning, especially when the vipers came along - I liked how they made that make sense, making the snakes the actual food I'm rather than the eggs in their bellies, now that they have the digital space to allow for that - and a few other sections), my attaché case is distressingly empty, particularly right before the thrive room with all the flying bugs and after the knights - another pleasant set of differences there, by the by - and all I had after that difficulty was a single full magazine of pistol ammo.

No, seriously.

And I think it might've not been even that much. A partially empty pistol, fully empty sniper rifle and shotgun and magnum (which sucks because I'm pretty sure it isn't compatible with the laser sight and the reticle is as sensitive as azidoazide azide, and needs upgrades to be allowed to take off a Knight's head in one shot).

#life rambles #resident evil 4 #re4 remake

[littlegalerion]

17 questions, 17 people

I was tagged by @sheirukitriesfandom , thank you~! 

Nicknames: I go by either Fawn or Jareth on social media!

Zodiac: I don’t really pay attention to zodiac stuff, but I believe I’m a Taurus. 

Height: 5 ft 4 inches

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw. I actually come from an entire household of Ravenclaws, save for my mother who is Hufflepuff. It made our vacation to Universal Studios very entertaining. 

Last thing I googled: I was looking up TigerClaw from TMNT because I had forgotten his actual human name. It was bothering me. That and I briefly googled Taurus to make sure I spelled it right. 

Song stuck in my head: I’ve had “Life After Happily Ever After” from Tangled: The Series stuck in my head for a while now. That or “Nothing Left to Loose”. The entire soundtrack is way too catchy. 

Number of Followers: 121...I...was only semi-paying attention. Thank you guys!!! 

Amount of Sleep: I usually get at least eight hours of sleep. Eight or seven. 

Lucky Number: 6

Dream Job: I’m currently working on original fiction that I plan to publish as either novels or VNs. I’m not entirely sure yet. I’d love to make a living on my writing, but I also plan on going back to college and major in English, breaking off into the branch that allows me to work as a Librarian. My goal is to, by the time I only have ten to five years before retirement, to be working in a university’s library. The retirement age within the educational system in my county is 65, so I think that’ll be a nice final stretch. 

Wearing: Comfy shorts and my Splash Mountain t-shirt, because I’m cleaning house for company later and also the heat is horrible here. Btw, did you hear Splash Mountain is getting remodeled into a Princess and the Frog ride? Super excited, that movie deserves more attention. It better be riding a giant boat through the swamp with pretty fireflies everywhere, so help me...

Favorite Song: ...Hm. As my fiancé is obsessed with heavy metal but also samples various genres as “experiences”, in the past few years I’ve been more so pushed to find my favorite genre of music, let alone favorite song. In all honesty, I have no real set genre I’m stuck to. Mostly I just listen to music as backtracks for character development for OCs, of all things. But if really pressed, I can only narrow it down to “Magnum Bullets” by Night Runner or “Underground” by David Bowie, but with multiple close runner ups!

Favorite Instrument: I don’t really have one.

Aesthetic: I battle every day from wanting to be a soft mum figure that deals with shades of soothing brown, pastel purples and pretty blues to wanting to be a werewolf master sorceress that wears nothing but black and purple armor/robes.  

Favorite Author: My favorite book is The Hobbit, and while I do love Tolkien, I gotta say I love C.S. Lewis more. I just vibe with him and his style of writing- EXCEPT THE SPACE TRILOGY. I still have migraines over those books...

Random: I went to google real quick what those weird horns argonians play in Murkmire are called, the ones that use actual frogs in them? I was going to use that for the “favorite instrument” slot but realized my browser is infected with the Yahoo virus again. So after posting this I get to completely wipe all my browser settings back to default so as to wipe out the virus. Fun. 

Tagging @screaminginthuum @foxyhearts @the-bossmer

Seventeen total acquaintances, let alone friends- it would both make me happy but also terrify me. What a world. 

#ask reblog #now I have magnum bullets in my head #but anyways this was fun! #this makes me think of the meet the artists posts

[rickgrimesdoingrickthings]

“If you look like this, I’d hate to see the other guy.”

Maybe for CRM rick & villian unhinged fox 😂

Rick stared her silently. Calm in his features, despite the constant suppressed hate and anger- what kept him living- "This place now is under the jurisdiction of the Civic Republic Military. Further resistance will not be tolerated." He stated, eyes locked on hers. Damn, she seemed insane. Considering the situation, she was supposed to look scared or depressed, yet, she seemed to be having fun. The CRM troop that accompanied Rick had already surrounded her community, the arsenal and main buildings already taken. He had practically emptied his gun and assault rifle killing the walkers all the noise had attracted- the intention wasn't to get the place overrun, but make it a colony; maybe he still had a couple of bullets in his Magnum, but he would rather not rely on them since an emergency always seemed to show up. "This isn't my blood." Rick said with coldness, eyes so hard to read- was he saying it to scare her? Or was he just stating the truth? Indeed...if one looked closely, he seemed quite unharmed- maybe soft bruises on his temple or forehead, but nothing more. The walkers, he killed all- the humans who tried to stop him, he also killed them. Her community didn't seem to have many firearms- many weapons but most of them empty. It was rather easy for his team to conquer the place. "There's no point for you to fight me. Even if you kill me, my forces already won." He was holding his killing stick, designed by the CRM to kill walkers, he had pierced the skull of two men with that as if they were nothing- as if their heads were eggs, easily breakable. Years with limited freedom had made him colder- his feelings darker, full of hate each day more- specially after finding out his old community was gone, the woman he loved, dead- The CRM knew that Rick Grimes would be useful though, and before the worst happened, they managed to rescue his two kids- Rick Jr and Judith now lived inside the walls of the CRM, and Rick now was their dog- despite hating so much what had been done to him, the progress of the CRM meant the progress of his kids, the children that motivated him to keep living, the only reason he hadn't taken his own life in an attempt to destroy the Civic Republic Military, now he was one of the most agents of the organization- they had gotten what they wanted, and now Rick wanted to complete his missions- to take her community was important, such important water supply under those grounds, a strategic spot for the military organization.

"Surrender, or I'll kill you, and demand cooperation from the second in command- and if they don't cooperate, I'll kill them as well, until I find someone who will agree and follow my orders. It's that simple."

@vuulpecula

#vuulpecula #crm rick grimes #crm rick #twd crm #crm twd #towl

[nightingaelic]

Companions react to reload dashing.

"I don't know, I kind of like it," the courier said, turning the latest addition to their weapons stash from side to side in the sunlight of Primm. "It's a little... flashier than what I usually go for, but it's compact and in good condition."

They fished around in their pack and withdrew a couple of .357 Magnum rounds. "'Lucky.' Yeah, I'll keep the name. Lucky I have some ammo for this old girl, that's for sure. What do you think, regular or hollow point? We're probably more likely to see coyotes than Powder Gangers from here to the NCR outpost, but you never know."

The courier started down the main street of Primm, trying to do three things at once as was their habit- swapping out the ornate gun's ammo, talking nonchalantly about their fragmented memories of the area, and stepping gingerly around the remains of the escaped prisoners that had sent all the locals scurrying to hole up in the Vikki and Vance Casino. They had just pulled up their Pip-Boy to confirm their route while stuffing the revolver into their holster when some invisible force flung them down the street and straight into one of El Diablo's rickety support beams.

Arcade Gannon: "Six!" Arcade yelled, immediately taking off after them. "What in the... what did you do?!?"

"Nothing," came their faint reply, from under some newly-shattered lumber. "I'm okay, though."

Arcade descended on them anyway, looking them over for broken bones and splinters. They had a lovely bruise flowering on their right shoulder and forearm which he deemed less than life-threatening, but their eyes were a little glazed over.

"Six." Arcade snapped his fingers in front of their face. "Stay with me. I think you might have a concussion, so we're going to set everyone at the casino loose again and then beg some local to let you use their bed for recovery."

"I don't know what happened," the courier mumbled.

"Not important right now," Arcade said, flinging their arm around his shoulders. "Okay, on three, we stand. One... two..."

Craig Boone: Boone's rifle flew up, pointing at each of the nearby buildings' roofs in turn, searching for any convicts that might have laid a trap for the town's liberators. He wracked his brains for anything in his years of service that might explain what had just happened: Heavy artillery fire, explosive devices, mysterious scientific tech left over from the NCR-Enclave War?

One by one he crossed the options off and realized his sweep was fruitless. There was no one in the street but them, and the courier was already struggling to their feet. "Fuck," they said fervently, as Boone approached them. "What was that?"

"You tell me," Boone said with a frown. "Let me see that revolver."

The courier handed it over. Boone popped out the cylinder, took each bullet out of its chamber and peered at the gun's guts. Aside from the black metal, gold etching and ivory handle, it looked like any other .357 Magnum he'd laid eyes on.

When he closed it up again and tried to hand it back, the courier waved him off. "Keep it. That thing's cursed."

Lily Bowen: "Pumpkin!" Lily bellowed, charging down the street toward where her surrogate grandchild had fallen. "Pumpkin, are you okay?"

"Fine, Lily," the courier replied shakily from under some rotten wood. "Little bump on my head, maybe."

Lily extracted them easily and hugged them to her chest. "Don't do that again," she scolded. "Grandma can't keep up with you if you go so fast."

The courier chuckled. "Yeah, I... trust me, it wasn't intentional, whatever it was. Whew."

"The last time someone moved that fast around Jacobstown was when a caravanner tried to pet the bighorner ram," Lily said with knowing smile. "Marcus had to help him down from the tree he landed in."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Híjole!" Raul looked around, but the source of the mysterious wind that had carried the courier into the rollercoaster was nowhere to be seen. "You okay, boss?" he called.

The courier's groan was audible, even from two blocks away. "Not really. What in the ever-loving fuck..."

"Must've angered un aparecido," Raul offered, begrudgingly breaking into a jog to rejoin them. "Maybe that gun's name is a warning."

"Ugh." The courier pulled themselves to their feet and looked around, bewildered. "Ever seen anything like that before, viejo?"

"Seen it? No." Raul shook his head. "There's an old Mexican legend, though, about a soldier somehow teleporting from Manila to Mexico City, way back in ancient times. Always thought that one was mierda, personally, but here you are breaking all the rules, Six."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass let out a hearty guffaw and slapped her thigh. "And just what dust devil did you piss off, before you wandered into town?" she asked, rushing over to where they had fallen.

"Fuck you," the courier replied, picking an impressive shard of wood out of their coat.

"Eloquent as ever." Cass grinned and helped them extricate themselves from the rollercoaster's wooden beams. "Seriously though, how'd you do that? The only things I've seen move that fast are NCR trains and missiles that come courtesy of angry super mutants."

"If I knew, I'd tell you." The courier shook some final splinters loose. "If only so I could dare you to try it next."

"Think it was the gun?" Cass suggested, eyeing the revolver at their hip. "Might be where it got its name."

The courier pulled the .357 Magnum out again and flipped it around to offer her the handle. "All yours. Be my guest."

Veronica Santangelo: "Whoa." Veronica stared after them. "You didn't tell me you could outrun cazadores, Six!"

"I can't," the courier replied crossly. "Or I couldn't, until just now. I'm just as surprised as you are."

"Fascinating." Veronica meandered over to their resting place, watching the ground as she did. No fragmentation mines, no tripwires, no sign of technical tampering whatsoever that might have sent the courier flying. She shrugged and knelt down to offer them a hand. "Here. Help you up?"

The courier took it, and Veronica freed them from the pile of firewood they'd inadvertently assembled. "My head feels funny," they muttered, once they'd gotten their hat on straight again.

Veronica put her other hand out. "Can I see that gun?"

"Nope." The courier wound up and chucked the old revolver as far as they could into the rollercoaster's support structure. "I know bad luck when I see it."

ED-E: ED-E beeped and scanned the rollercoaster. The support beam the courier had hit was holding firm, but several of the boards above them had been shaken to the point of detachment and were hanging on by one rusty nail. ED-E zoomed to the rescue, covering the distance to its companion in a heartbeat and buzzing loudly in alarm.

The courier looked up and spotted the problem. "Shit," they said, and scrambled to get out of the way just as the rotten lumber began to fall. They took great, heaving breaths as El Diablo rained its pieces down, and they reached out to pat ED-E's dome affectionately. "Let's just pretend I meant to do that," they said.

ED-E let out an inquisitive chirp. "Nope," the courier replied. "But we should try it again, when there are fewer buildings around."

Rex: Rex whined and trotted after the courier, clearly confused by their sudden departure. The courier, for their part, just lay on the ground, wondering what mistakes they'd made to wind up angering the Mojave gods.

"Don't tell anyone about this," they joked, once Rex drew near. The cyberdog licked their face and laid down next to them.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #fnv companions #fnv companions react #fallout new vegas companions #fallout new vegas companions react #reload dashing