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korpuskat · 9 months

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Spectrum

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader Rating: Mature (sexual content referenced, but not explicit) WC: 2,918 Warnings: None Sequel to In A Different Light -----

The lackey behind the counter hardly looks up, barely says anything as they pass you the repair request forms. It's fine, you get it. Menial labor, repetitive office bullshit, dealing with the guys who walk their mechs into walls when training while trying to avoid the higher-ups gaze. Normal Talon stuff. This is perfectly true until he asks you what floor of the barracks you're on, what wing.

And suddenly the lady behind him perks up. She doesn't even try to hide how she looks you over, making some unspoken assessment, then grins and returns to her tablet.

The barely suppressed smile infects his voice with excitement. "Don't suppose you're in 1813, are you?"

Oh. Fuck. "Yeah, I am."

"Kinda wondering when you'd make it down here." He says, typing in your information. "If you would."

You shouldn't say anything. You really, really shouldn't.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, you know." He grins at you, fucking winks like you're in on the joke. "There was a pool if you'd be here or the infirmary first."

The infirmary? Why would you- actually, he did break your bed and leave a hole in your wall and you have had this peculiar ache behind your belly button and you definitely have huge purple splotches over your hips where he'd grabbed you, so, okay, that's fair.

"I guess you won then." Is the light-lipped answer you come up with, unsure how to explain that you really don't want to be part of this conversation anymore. Please, just fix your bed and wall. Gossip when you're not around.

The guy opens his mouth- and you feel it before his expression changes. A cool wind brushes against the back of your neck, down your spine, over the backs of your arms. Sickly, somehow, like the air itself clings to you, crawls on you. Everyone behind the counter looks away. His joy is gone, but the fear is carefully masked. "Reason for repairs?"

Behind you, boots stomp by. He doesn't leave, from the sound, from the way nobody exhales. You don't look, keep your eyes trained on the counter, on a little fleck where the linoleum is peeling away. He's somewhere in a corner, waiting for something. "Accident."

The lackey visibly cringes. Suddenly he, too, doesn't want to be in this conversation. "Gotta be more specific."

Fucker. Your voice is barely restrained as you bite out, "Sparring accident."

Behind you, the Reaper snorts.

When Ramattra returns to your base, perhaps only two weeks later, you really expect him to just proceed as business as usual. Like nothing had happened; he'd sated his curiosity, you're off his radar. Figuratively. You do not, under any circumstances, expect to be pulled off regular duties to be part of his temporary squadron.

It's a formality. He doesn't need one. He's here to inspect an airship, to discuss modifications to be made before it goes into mass production.

With an irritated sigh and wave of his hand, he summarily dismisses the entire squadron as soon as he sees them waiting in the hangar. The rest leave. You should join them. It's so... presumptuous, to think he thinks about you, that he even remembers you. He's leading a revolution for his people and you're a grunt he fucked once. But your boots may as well have been glued to the floor, no matter how much you want to scream at yourself to move, to turn away, you can't.

And his gaze settles on you.

And he nods towards the airship's ramp.

You follow behind him.

It's the first time you watch him leave. Every time before- three, now, not that you're counting- he's quietly departed your quarters. After making sure you're well cared for. That part had always confused you- left your chest aching in a way completely different than your hips.

But this time, you're not left alone in your mattress working up the courage to go file a repair request again. No, as part of his squadron you get to see him off this time. It's all a show, Ramattra had complained about it before- serves nothing but to boost their little human egos. He wasn't wrong, there's no need for you to be here. In fact, you really don't want to be here.

You've never seen Doomfist in person, but he personally escorts Ramattra to his shuttle. He speaks confidently, but quietly enough you can't make out what he's saying, even as he gestures broadly with his cybernetic arm. Even seeing him content makes your stomach flip uneasily, not wanting to be around if something does go wrong.

Ramattra... looks different. It's hard to believe how quickly you've become used to seeing him relaxed. Not just when he's moving in you- no, even when he sits with you, walks about the base, he never looks like this anymore. All seriousness and focused, the weight of the world back on his shoulders.

They speak a moment more, then Ramattra bows his head and turns towards his ship. He stops-

and across the launch bay, Ramattra's faceplate turns towards you. He pauses. Says nothing, hardly moves- but you know. He's looking directly at you. You stare back, unsure why you have his attention now- and ever so slightly his head dips. A tiny nod goodbye, just for you.

Your chest aches.

You smile slightly and nod back- and he's gone, entering his ship and flying away.

You don’t know who finally made the call to assign Ramattra temporary quarters at your base, but you would love to have seen that conversation. Because Ramattra’s voice is perfectly neutral as he comments that his quarters had not only a heavy duty, solid steel bed frame to support his weight- nevermind that he doesn’t sleep- but also reinforced walls.

They knew, of course. But the fact that someone high up enough knew to make the recommendation is what really gets you. Because nobody has said anything to you. Maybe they’re smart enough to- you doubt Ramattra would be particularly pleased with you being public knowledge.

And, well, not saying anything has ended up being your approach with Ramattra so far, too. Despite the frequency that he’d return to your doorway (and now you to his), or the repeated repair requests and occasional trips to medical and skeptical looks in return, you’d never explicitly asked what was going on. What exactly you were to him.

And normally that would be fine! Soldier’s bond or whatever, some bullshit to say “logistically and emotionally easiest lay.” It’s common enough. But you’ve never laid in a squadmate’s bed hours after, never dozed lightly in someone else’s blankets as they work at the desk a foot away- and never felt that perhaps that was still too far from you.

It’s the latter right now that sits heavy on your chest.

You shift beneath his sheets- a silky, deep purple that ripples with every moment. You watch, silent, as he turns some kind of device in his hands, taps it occasionally with an electric soldering iron. You sit up slowly, lean into his pillows. Even the pillowcases match. Probably actual silk knowing Talon’s propensity to keep their board members happy. Fuckers. He doesn’t even meditate on the bed.

“Ramattra,” The question bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “Can I… kiss you?”

He stills. But here, you must acknowledge how close you’ve gotten- because you can tell. Where someone else may feel that pang of fear, that his quiet is a wind-up to rage or impatience or condescension, no, you can read his shoulders perfectly. He’s genuinely contemplating the request.

He looks to you, and he doesn’t need a face for you to feel the incredulity in his voice. “You do understand I do not possess a mouth, correct?”

“I know.” You stand and sweep one thin blanket with you as you move to him. And here- he turns away from his project, sets his iron down, opens his arms for you. When you settle into his lap, he supports you- and when you reach for his face, his jaw, he lowers his head into your touch. You sweep a thumb across the lowest part of the white composite, feel the little crease between it and the purple of his jaw plate. “But I could still kiss you..”

His whole face rumbles into your palm as he hums, considering this. “Alright, though I do not understand what you would gain from this.”

And that is a lie, though you’re not sure who it’s for. It’s fine though, you don’t call him on it. Instead, you guide his head down as you stretch up- until your breath ghosts against him, leaving little puffs of foggy condensation. And you kiss him. Right across the seam between his plates, your lips squishing into the gap, flattening against his metal.

And it would be like kissing a training bot, all cold, motionless metal against your lips- and that must be what he expects you to feel, his disbelief you’d get anything from this. It would be, except for everything else about him. His hands come up to the curve of your spine, to the back of your head, cradling you so gently- and even with such a small display, his fans kick up, a quiet hum purring a hair louder from his chest. Without a mouth, he’s hardly unaffected- and against his faceplate you smile and pull away. His optics cannot, by design, be half-lidded and glazed, but you think they would be if they could.

“Did that… satisfy you?” He rumbles lowly.

“For now.” You grin and tuck yourself deeper into his lap. When he realizes you have no intention of returning to his bed, he makes a show of sighing and adjusting the stolen blanket so you’re well-wrapped and all the ends are tucked safely away before he returns to his work.

"Can I ask you a question?" You murmur, eyes still closed. He's foregone the blanket this time, holding you right up against his chest; you had curled up with him so quickly he hasn't even had time to put his paneling back on. The spars of his ribs are a little uncomfortable, but he's still so warm that you can't complain.

"Of course." His systems have already refreshed, perfectly capable of going on with his day. Unlike you, you're still wavering and floaty and in need of a shower. He's used to it. Being able to hold you afterwards is... enjoyable. He allows himself to trace shapes over your skin. He had noticed, once, how you smile softly when he does it.

"It's personal."

Ramattra's head shifts, looks down at you slightly. He's told you about himself. About the times before he was himself, about the Shambali, about the slave shops he's destroyed, about London. About Lanet. What could you possibly ask that you felt the need to warn him about first? "Go on."

"Who did you make your dick for?" Oh. He shifts awkwardly, ceases the motions of his hands. When he doesn't answer you continue, "You told me you didn't make it for humans, so, I dunno. Was just curious."

It takes several moments before he can manage to put together a stilted "Does it matter?"

You hum softly and lean back against him. "No." You swap the places of your hand with his, sweeping your thumb across the purple plating. You really didn't want to upset him- the likelihood his previous relationships have ended particularly badly is ridiculously high. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me about your exes. Like I said, just curious."

Ramattra has never quite understood the desire to grimace until now. It's not important, and yet... that annoying little whisper has returned to his circuits, prodding at his runtimes until he's forcing the words through his synth. "I don't... have any... 'exes'."

This makes the gears turn in your head. There's no way. "Like... you just didn't stay with any of them?" Even as hectic as his life has been, you cannot reconcile how tenderly he's holding you with him previously being a smash and dasher. It would make sense logistically- no danger of loss or being tied down and losing focus on his work, but… there’s just no way.

"No." He all but squirms. "I never used it before you."

"What?"

"I designed it for..." His voice cuts out as his vocoder fights him again. "...a particular omnic. To their model's... specifications. But I never used it."

You twist around in his arms, as much as he'd prefer you didn't. It's uncomfortable enough without having to see your face, without his still-not-put-away dick pressed between your bodies. "But... you told me you'd fucked before."

Around you, Ramattra bristles, his fans ramping up, his hands firming where they touch you. Too far, you did upset him. "Omnics do not need things as crude as genitals to be intimate."

The pieces come together. Not an ex, they'd been intimate, enough that he'd designed a dick just to hope, but never used it. He wanted more. You slide a hand around Ramattra's neck, over the dark plating his cowl usually hides. Normally, when you slide your fingers around the chunky cables of his mane, he'll purr or at least relax- no such luck. "Sorry," You murmur, and trace a finger along the long line of his jaw piece. "Thank you for telling me."

It takes a few moments, but eventually a soft stream of hot air slips from Ramattra's vents and he sighs. You take the cue and curl up close to him, wrapping your arms around him as best you can with his wide chest. When you think he's calmed enough, you do tack on one last comment. "I am glad you made it, though."

Thankfully, Ramattra laughs softly at that.

Ramattra holds white papers in his hand, carefully held between the rubber pads there, delicate as to not crease them before you can read them. His other hand twitches as his side, then balls into a fist. He does not meet your gaze when he enters his room. He stands there, just past the doorway, clenching and unclenching his fist, his fans slowly amping up.

"Rama?" You prompt him when he still doesn’t say anything, already scooting to the edge of his bed.

"I have to attend to the construction of a titan in person." It's flat, a statement, no particular inflection in his voice where you're clearly expecting something else. "I won't be able to return here for several weeks. At minimum."

Now it's you who looks away. It's a disappointment. You knew it was coming, three days together was already an incredible luxury. "Ah, I see." He's busy, you know this. Lots of hard work running an entire revolution almost by yourself. And you can't fault him for it- can't ask him to postpone. It's important work. "When will you have to leave?"

"Five hours. I'm also chartering transport of supplies. My omnium is short on copper wire, of all things." He says- and his focus shifts from the floor to the paper in his hands. He rubs it, watches as the paper flexes and bends, then returns to normal. You, too, observe his fidgeting and wait for the shoe to drop. You've always kind of waited for it.

"Are you- " He starts- and his synth immediately fizzles. The hand at his side tightens in frustration as he reboots it. "Are you pleased with... this?" The paper flops in his hand as he gestures vaguely between you.

This.

Never did have that conversation.

You bite your tongue, chance looking at him. None of the strain in his vocoder has made it to his faceplate, forever stuck in that passive, almost angry expression. "Yeah." If he wants to kick you out, that's fine, but you aren't going to lie about it. His visits to your base have easily become the best part of your job, the occasional message of where he is, of when he can make it back to you- it's completely different than anything you've had before. "Yeah, actually."

Ramattra's shoulders drop. "You are sure? Genuinely?"

You nod. And he holds out the paper. You don't even unfold it before he's explaining. "It's a reassignment order. Production of Null Troopers is increasing geometrically; ideally I would oversee all production lines directly from here on. It would be... advantageous to have someone else coordinate with Talon on my behalf while I am engaged with this.

"I will be very occupied. This is a critical period of staging. And I would be relying on you." Ramattra says, and there's a sternness laid over top. He wants it to sound like a job offer, to sound serious. It is, to some degree. But more than that-

"You..." The top of the paper is printed with Talon's logo, a big block of text follows, beneath is a signature line. Your eyes skim the page again- and read the most important line. Relocate to meet the needs of Null Sector. "You want me to come with you?"

A breath of silence takes the room, until he steps closer and takes one of your hands in his. So gently, he drags the rubber pad of his thumb over your knuckles. His faceplate focuses there, on the delicate bones of your hand, your wrist. "It would... please me greatly to keep you near."

The ache in your chest blooms out, spills over your cheeks.

#overwatch #ramattra #ramattra x you #Ramattra x Reader #overwatch x you #overwatch x reader #reader insert

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from-a-legends-pov · 2 months

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Star Wars Legends: Poll of the Week - Smuggler Starships

Which of these ships owned or used by a Star Wars Legends smuggler is your favorite?

The Wild Karrde, Talon Karrde’s Corellian Engineering Corporation Action VI Transport modified to be the headquarters of his smuggling and spy operation (Heir to the Empire)

The Pulsar Skate, a modified Baudo-class star yacht Mirax Terrik used for her smuggling operation (which she took over from her father Booster when he was arrested) and later to help the New Republic (X-Wing: Rogue Squadron)

The Lady Luck, Lando Calrissian’s yacht modified to include hidden laser cannons, a deflector shield generator, a scanner and transponder system for the use of aliases, and smuggling compartments, as well as luxury amenities such as a reflecting meditation pool and a crystal garden (Heir to the Empire)

The Jade’s Fire, Mara Jade’s heavily modified personal luxury yacht and the first ship Mara personally owned, free and clear (Ambush at Corellia)

The Errant Venture, an Imperial II-class Star Destroyer (formerly the Virulence) captured during a New Republic battle by smuggler Booster Terrik, who was allowed to keep it if it was decommissioned and the excess arms sold to the New Republic. It was later painted bright red (X-Wing: The Bacta War)

Hungry for more Star Wars Legends content? Follow @from-a-legends-pov and check out our upcoming Star Wars Legends fanfiction event, From a Legends Point of View, HERE!

#star wars legends #star wars extended universe #star wars eu #sw legends #from a legends pov #wild karrde #pulsar skate #Lady Luck #jade’s fire #errant venture #talon karrde #mirax terrik #lando calrissian #mara jade #booster terrik

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nocternalrandomness · 5 months

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Northrop T-38C Talon -- 25th Flying Training Squadron - Vance AFB, OK

#Northrop #T-38 #Talon #Military aircraft #Jet trainer #training aircraft #Pilot Training #T-38C #Flight training #airplane

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bratshaws · 5 months

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through the hourglass 304.brb x oc

a/n: IM HAPPY WITH THIS ONE YEAH(comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

/267/268/269/270/271/272/273/274/275/276/277/278/279/280/281/282/283/284/285/286/287/288/289/290/291/292/293/294/295/296/297/298/299/300/301

/302/303

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

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The authorization from Cyclone came through, and Rooster let out a loud sigh of relief.

"Talon Squadron, this is Rooster. We're moving in for a closer inspection. Stay sharp, and be prepared for anything," Rooster commanded, his voice steady.

The Hornets adjusted their course, descending with precision towards the designated coordinates. The figures on the ground became more defined as they approached. The black flight suits, devoid of any insignias or identifiers, mirrored the ominous presence of their previous encounter.

"McAllister, keep an eye on their movements. Nix, make sure our six is clear. We don't know what we're dealing with," Rooster instructed, his eyes flickering between the cockpit instruments and the scene unfolding below.

“Sir?”

“What?”

McAllister gulps, “They are going back to the jets.”

The tense atmosphere inside the cockpit was palpable as Rooster processed McAllister's report. Rooster's instincts kicked in, and he tightened his grip on the control stick."Keep an eye on them, McAllister. If they're getting back to their jets, we need to be ready for anything. Talon Squadron, maintain formation and stay alert. We're not letting our guard down," Rooster transmitted through the squadron's secure channel.

The Hornets maintained their descent, the roar of their engines cutting through the air as they approached the mysterious black-clad figures. The tension in Rooster's cockpit was mirrored in the rest of Talon Squadron. The unknown mission had just taken an unexpected turn, and the pilots were on high alert.

As the Hornets closed in, the details on the ground became clearer. The figures were indeed returning to a row of sleek, black,but old fighter jets that blended seamlessly with the darkness of the night.

Phoenix, keeping a vigilant eye on their rear, reported, "Rooster, our six is clear. No sign of any additional threats from behind."

"Copy that, Nix. Keep scanning, and don't let your guard down.” The Hornets descended to a lower altitude, flying in formation above the mysterious fighter jets.He kept his eyes on them, memories of that mission.

Of almost dying if it wasn’t for Mav, made chills run up his spine. He blinked when the repurposed jets roared into life and he frowns, “...everyone, get ready. I doubt they haven’t noticed us by now, I want everyone focused. Phoenix, keep an eye on our six. McAllister, stay vigilant on their movements. Jake, be ready for anything," Rooster ordered, “Mark, stay close to Payback.”

"Rooster, this is Phoenix. Their jets are firing up, but they're not armed. At least, not visibly," came the report from Phoenix, whose eyes remained fixed on the rearview, scanning for any potential threats.

"Copy that, Phoenix. McAllister, do we have any intel on those jets? Model, capabilities?" Rooster inquired, his eyes darting between the advancing figures and the HUD displaying vital information.

"Uhh,uhhh…” he groans,”They are an older model um…”

"They're F-14 Tomcats." Rooster replied for him instead, eyes widening “...fuck. Alright, Talon Squadron, listen up. We're dealing with F-14 Tomcats, but we can't confirm if they're armed. Stay on high alert. If these are the same people…from back then…well, let’s all be ready."

"Rooster, this is Jake. I've got a bad feeling about this. We should be ready for evasive maneuvers," Jake's voice crackled over the secure channel.

Rooster acknowledged, "Agreed, Jake. Talon Squadron, be prepared for anything. Maintain formation, and let's see what they do."

Mark’s voice appeared “I agree.” he seemed almost too eager to do so “I can go ahead and-”

“No,Mark, don’t do anything stupid.” Because it looked like they're heading straight for them,”Talon Squadron, be prepared for evasive maneuvers. We don't know their intentions, but we're not taking any chances," Rooster ordered, his eyes scanning the HUD for any signs of hostile action.

But he just had a feeling.

And he wanted everyone to be safe.

"Sir?”

“Yes,McAllister?”

“No response on any channels. They're maintaining radio silence," McAllister reported, his eyes fixed on the approaching aircraft.

"...of course not." Rooster exhaled, one of the jets was moving right towards him, “Everyone,move!”

The Hornets scattered in a synchronized dance of evasion as the approaching F-14 Tomcats closed the distance. Rooster's instincts kicked in, and he executed a sharp climb, pulling his Hornet into a vertical loop. The G-forces pressed against him, and he could hear the roar of the engines as he tried to gain altitude and assess the situation.

"Talon Squadron, this is Rooster. Break formation and engage. We're not waiting for them to make the first move. Hangman, Mark, Nix, Payback, let’s give them some action but be careful!," Rooster ordered, his voice commanding over the radio.

The Hornets dispersed, each pilot taking on a Tomcat in a high-stakes game of aerial cat and mouse. The night sky erupted with the afterburners and streaks of tracer rounds as the dogfight unfolded. Rooster twisted and turned, engaged in with his opponent. The F-14 Tomcat on his tail mirrored every move.

"McAllister, we need to lose this guy. Suggestions?" Rooster's voice cut through the chaos in the cockpit.

McAllister's eyes darted between the instruments and the incoming threat. "Sir, try a split-S maneuver, and I'll jam their radar. It might buy us some time."

"Copy that," Rooster replied, pushing the Hornet into a sharp dive. The G-forces intensified, pressing both pilots into their seats. McAllister deftly manipulated the electronic warfare systems, attempting to disrupt the tracking capabilities of the adversary while letting out a strained ‘fuuuck’ because of the g-force.

The Tomcat followed the descent, but as Rooster initiated the split-S, the pursuer struggled to match the abrupt change in direction. The Hornet pulled out of the maneuver, soaring upward while the Tomcat momentarily lost track.

"Good call, McAllister. Let's see if we can get the upper hand," Rooster commended, scanning the airspace for the next move.

Tracer rounds streaked through the darkness, and the roar of engines echoed through the air. No one was down yet, and he hoped that for his team, it kept that way.

The pursuing Tomcat regrouped and locked onto the Hornet once again. McAllister grimaced, "Sir, they're persistent. I'll try a chaff and flare deployment to throw off their targeting."

"Go for it," Rooster commanded. The Hornet deployed a cloud of chaff and flares, creating a dazzling display of countermeasures. The pursuing Tomcat hesitated for a moment, its radar confused by the sudden interference.

"Sir, I think we've got them disoriented. Let's take this opportunity to turn the tables," McAllister suggested.

Rooster nodded, his eyes narrowing as he initiated a high-speed turn. The Hornet sliced through the night sky, making use of its agility to outmaneuver the Tomcat. The element of surprise was on their side, and Rooster seized the moment to gain the offensive.

"McAllister, get ready to lock on. We're taking the fight to them," Rooster declared,clenching his hands tight.

As the Hornets engaged in their individual battles, the communication channel buzzed with updates. Phoenix reported, "I've got one Tomcat on my tail. Evading, but they're persistent."

"Stay sharp, Phoenix. We're working on our end," Rooster assured, keeping tabs on the overall situation while locked in his own intense struggle.

McAllister manipulated the targeting systems, aligning the Hornet's weapons with the Tomcat. The HUD displayed a solid lock, and Rooster squeezed the trigger. Missiles streaked toward the adversary, forcing them into evasive maneuvers. The night sky erupted with explosions as the air-to-air missiles found their mark.

"Hit! But they are still up sir!"

The Tomcat, though damaged, continued to desperately try to shake off the pursuing Hornets. Rooster and McAllister pressed their advantage, tailing the wounded adversary.

"McAllister, keep the pressure on. Let's force them into a mistake," Rooster directed, his eyes fixed on the evasive maneuvers of the damaged Tomcat. “Like putting something out of it’s misery.”

McAllister adjusted the Hornet's throttle, maintaining the pursuit. The Tomcat pilot, realizing the dire situation, executed a series of erratic barrel rolls and sudden dives. "Sir, they're slippery, but I've got a lock. Ready to fire when you give the word," McAllister reported, the tension evident in his voice.

"Wait for the right moment, McAllister. We don't want to waste our shots. Let's see if they make a mistake," Rooster advised, his eyes narrowing as he anticipated the enemy pilot's next move.

As the damaged Tomcat continued its acrobatic maneuvers, Rooster noticed a subtle hesitation in its pattern. A split-second miscalculation that opened a window of opportunity.

He should’ve gone to the left.

"Now, McAllister! Fire!" Rooster commanded.

McAllister unleashed a volley of missiles, streaking through the night with deadly intent. The damaged Tomcat, already strained by the earlier hit, couldn't evade the new onslaught. The explosions engulfed the aircraft, and it spiraled uncontrollably toward the darkness below.

"Target down!" McAllister confirmed,tossing his hand up in triumph.

Rooster exhaled, momentarily relieved, but the battle was far from over. The communication channel buzzed with updates from the other Hornets, each pilot locked in their individual duels. Phoenix was still engaged, Hangman reported a close call, and Payback was working to outmaneuver a particularly agile adversary.

"Rooster, this is Payback. I've got another one on my six. Need assistance," came the urgent plea over the radio.

"Copy, Payback. McAllister, let's break off and support him. We’re losing no one tonight." Rooster ordered, banking the Hornet in the direction of his friend’s distress call.

The night sky became a canvas of chaos as the Hornets regrouped to tackle the new threat. Payback skillfully evaded the persistent Tomcat, but the enemy pilot was relentless.

"Rooster, this one's good. Real good," he reported, the strain evident in his voice.

"Payback, hang in there. We're on our way," Rooster reassured, his eyes scanning the radar for the unfolding battle.

As they closed in on Payback's position, the silhouette of his struggling Hornet came into view. Followed by a skilled Tomcat pilot. Rooster clenched his jaw, determination etched across his face.

"McAllister, lock onto the bogey. We need to relieve the pressure on Payback," Rooster commanded, his hand gesturing towards the radar screen.

"Locked and loaded, sir. Ready when you are," McAllister replied, his focus unwavering.

The Hornet sliced through the air, closing the distance to Payback's engaged aircraft. Rooster's eyes darted between the glowing screens of the cockpit, analyzing the situation. The Tomcat pilot, aware of the incoming threat, executed a series of defensive maneuvers, attempting to shake off Rooster and McAllister.

"Stay sharp, McAllister. We're dealing with a skilled opponent here. Let's not make any mistakes," Rooster advised, the urgency in his voice matching the intensity of the dogfight. “Come on you fucker, stop moving so much.”

The pilot twisted and turned with exceptional agility. Payback skillfully evaded their attacks, but the Tomcat pilot seemed to anticipate every move.

"Rooster, this guy is one hell of a pilot. I can't shake him off!" Payback's voice crackled over the radio.

Rooster gritted his teeth. "Hang in there, Payback. We're almost there."

The Tomcat pilot suddenly adjusted their course, making it difficult for the Hornets to lock onto a clear shot. The air became a labyrinth of twists and turns, each pilot trying to outmaneuver the other.

"McAllister, we need to coordinate our attacks. On my mark, unleash everything you've got," Rooster instructed, his eyes narrowing as he calculated the optimal moment to strike.

The Hornets closed in, the tension escalating with every passing second. Rooster's hand hovered over the trigger, waiting for the perfect opportunity. Suddenly, the adversary executed a daring barrel roll, throwing off their pursuers momentarily.

"Now, McAllister! Fire!" Rooster commanded.

Missiles streaked through the night, converging on the elusive Tomcat. The adversary, caught off guard by the synchronized assault, struggled to evade the onslaught. Explosions illuminated the darkness as the missiles found their mark, damaging the enemy aircraft.

"Good hit, but he's still flying!" McAllister exclaimed, frustration evident in his voice. “Damn those guys are hard!”

"Keep on him, McAllister. Let's wear him down. Payback, keep evading—we've got this," Rooster encouraged, his eyes locked onto the damaged adversary.

“You sure?”

“Yeah!Go!”

The dogfight intensified, the Hornets relentlessly pursuing the Tomcat through a series of high-speed twists and turns and descents. The Tomcat pilot, managed to evade several close calls, sometimes flying too close to the ground, enough for it to be dangerous for everyone else.

"Sir, he's making it difficult. I can't get a clear shot," McAllister reported, frustration creeping into his tone,voice shaking a bit.

Rooster chewed his lower lip then he frowned…Beatrice’s voice coming from the back of her mind.

Oh you know, with the kids is all organized chaos!

Organized chaos.

His eyes widened in realization as an idea struck, “...thanks babe. I’ll have to say it to you when I’m able.”Organized chaos. The chaos of the dogfight was real, but perhaps they could find a way to introduce a bit of order into the madness. He glanced at McAllister, the corners of his eyes crinkling through the visor as he smirked "McAllister, let's try something different. We're going to create some organized chaos of our own!”

"What?"

"We're going to use the terrain to our advantage. Get ready for some low-level flying," Rooster explained, banking the Hornet towards the rugged landscape below.

“WHAT??” McAllister’s surprised shriek from behind him was loud but the younger pilot just got himself ready, whispering little prayers as he held himself against the aircraft “I-I t-trust you,sir!”

Rooster smirked, his eyes glinting as he moved. The Hornet roared over the rugged terrain, skimming just above the treetops and following the contours of the landscape. McAllister gritted his teeth,almost feeling the rush of wind against his face as the aircraft weaved through the natural obstacles even if they were safe from the outside.

The Tomcat, caught off guard by the sudden change in tactics, struggled to keep up. The Hornets, now using the terrain to their advantage, gained the upper hand. Rooster and McAllister skillfully maneuvered through every little thing that appeared to be an obstacle.

Fuck,Mav would be proud.

The moonlight cast eerie shadows on the rugged terrain below as the Hornet and Tomcat engaged in a high-stakes pursuit. Rooster's mind raced, calculating every move, anticipating the Tomcat's reactions.

He was nervous, the guy was starting to hiccup now and again.The organized chaos they created disrupted the traditional dogfighting patterns, putting the adversary on the defensive. They tried to hit Rooster and McAllister’s jet but Rooster quickly avoided it,making it hit a rock wall instead.

The low-level pursuit continued, with Rooster and McAllister skillfully navigating through the rugged terrain, using the landscape to their advantage. The Tomcat, struggling to keep up, found itself in a defensive position.

Stuttering.

Good.

"Keep it tight, McAllister! We're almost done with him! Rooster barked ,not being able to hold back his laughter as the Tomcat, despite its powerful engines, struggled to match the agility and adaptability of the Hornets in this unpredictable terrain.

It was an old jet, it wouldn’t be the same.

"Sir, this is insane!" McAllister shouted, his words barely audible over the roar of the engines and the wind.

Rooster grinned, the thrill of the chase lighting up his eyes behind the visor. "Welcome to the danger zone, McAllister!"

He could almost hear Maverick's voice echoing in his head, a mentor in absentia. Hell, he could hear his uncle’s laughter.

The Tomcat pilot, realizing the disadvantage in the low-level environment, attempted to gain altitude for a different approach. However, Rooster anticipated the move, banking sharply and staying just above the treetops. The Tomcat struggled to follow, its larger frame unable to match the agility of the Hornets in such confined spaces.

"McAllister, on my mark, we're going vertical. Brace yourself!" Rooster announced, preparing for a drastic change in tactics.

“Ooooohhh!! Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittt-!!”

The Hornet shot upward, leaving the rugged terrain behind and climbing into the open sky. The Tomcat, caught off guard, tried to match the ascent, but Rooster executed a series of barrel rolls and loops, disorienting the adversary.

"Keep it steady, sir!" McAllister yelled, his hands gripping the control stick tightly.

Rooster's eyes scanned the sky as he maneuvered, anticipating the Tomcat's moves. He paused for a second, gasping for air…he was upside down above the Tomcat…he couldn’t see him. He blinked, it was an automatic reaction that gave them a huge advantage.

Just like Mav did.

"McAllister, target locked! Get ready to unleash it!" Rooster's voice boomed,his accent coming in thick with adrenaline pumping through his veins.

The Hornet dove back toward the Tomcat, accelerating at breakneck speed. The targeting system beeped as Rooster aligned the crosshairs on the enemy aircraft. "Fox three! Fire!" Rooster commanded, and the Hornet released an AIM-54 Phoenix missile. The sleek projectile streaked towards the Tomcat, leaving a luminous trail in its wake. The Tomcat pilot, realizing the imminent threat, executed evasive maneuvers, but the missile was relentless.

The explosion illuminated the dark sky as the Tomcat was hit immediately and both pilots had to squint because of the light. The shockwave from the explosion reverberated through the sky, sending ripples of turbulence through the air. Rooster and McAllister watched as the remnants of the Tomcat scattered across the night, like really messed up snowflakes.

"Damn.”Rooster whistles low, “...that was kinda pretty.”

The echoes of the explosion gradually faded, leaving behind an eerie silence in the vast expanse of the night sky. "Damn fine shot, sir," McAllister said, his voice still shaky. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand as he lifted his visor, his eyes wide with the intensity of the recent dogfight.

Rooster grinned, the corners of his mouth visible even through the visor of his helmet. "We both did a good job." he pauses, “We should check on the others but seeing there was only one guy left–”

“We won,sir?”

“Fuck yeah we won.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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far-side-skies · 2 months

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Finally yeeting together a rough sketch of this month's bird OC(s). I wound up using a pair of identical twins for this one.

Phobos and Deimos Avadat are the youngest children of two high-ranking Talons named Cepheus (deceased) and Cassieopeia Avadat. They've got three older sibilngs: Hamlet (deceased), Monsoon and Andromeda (deceased). By the time the show starts, both of them are in their 40s.

Phobos was a commander of Cyclonia's cavalry division, often at the frontlines riding a pegasus into the thick of battle. Until a skirmish with the Rebel Ducks went seriously wrong and left him scarred and disabled (the picture above is pre-injury as I'm trying to pin down his base appeareance) about a year or two before the return of the Storm Hawks. Instead of retiring outright, he applied to transfer to the beastkeeper division, and now spends his time caring for the pegasus ranks and Cyclonia's other bestial numbers (occucrows, trackbeasts, etc.). It's allowed for him to be able to spend more time with his partner and children, but has severely disappointed his mother. He no longer cares, and some part of him blames her and the pressure she put on him to excel in the Talon ranks on his previous inability to bond with his children.

Deimos is just as, if not more successful than his twin. He's the leader of one of Cyclonia's specialist squadrons, the Fog Howlers. They're a strike team and one of the major players in the invasion and subsequent takeover of Merbia. He's still going strong and working to rise even further up the ranks of the Talon army. Far less laid-back than Phobos, he is of the opinion that Cyclonia's royal family has run its course, and the Empire is due for a change in leadership chosen by the people. He's not the only person with this opinion, and this insurrectionist group is known as the Disciples. Their choice in new ruler? Dark Ace. Phobos and Deimos's nephew.

#op #storm hawks #storm hawks oc challenge #oc challenge #storm hawks oc contest #bird oc challenge #storm hawks bird oc challenge #storm hawks oc #my art #art #digital art #artists on tumblr #artist #original art #downy woodpecker #challenge entry #challenge entries

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kanerallels · 1 month

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So... what SW Legends stuff would you recommend? I've already started reading Heir to the Empire, if that helps?

Ooooh!! Okay Heir to the Empire is the PERFECT starting place, that's where I started too! (I think. I also vaguely remembering reading these Darth Bane books when I was younger, but I digress)

(edit: also, I am not an expert on Legends, so if anyone who knows it better would like to offer any other recs (in a respectful manner that doesn't involve talking about how much you hate the sequels) feel free to add to this post!)

Others that I would recommend would definitely depend on what era you're looking for, but most of the stuff I know is post Return of the Jedi. If it's not, I'll make sure you know! (I'm gonna put part of this under a cut, it got kinda long)

The Hand of Thrawn duology. It's set like ten years after Heir to the Empire, and wraps up the events of those books super well! Plus it has more Talon Karrde, who is my favorite background character ever. The first book is Specter of the Past, by Timothy Zahn!

If you're a Mace Windu fan, Shatterpoint by Matthew Stover was really good! It's set near the end of the Clone Wars, and is about a mission he went on to find his missing apprentice. It was fun to read from Mace's point of view, and see how he's actually a lot more caring than a lot of fans depict him. Also, he headbutts a shocking amount of people. Mace is not immune to the chaos gene that comes with being Force sensitive

Technically, these are kids books and I might only like them because nostaglia, but the Last of the Jedi series by Jude Watson is fun! It's set directly after Order 66, and follows a former Jedi who grew up with Anakin, and the escapades and hijinks he gets up to

The Rogue Squadron books by Michael A. Stackpole are pretty good, especially if you like fighter pilot shenanigans. Rogue Squadron is Wedge Antilles's elite squad of pilots, and the main character is Corran Horn, who is a former Corellian Security member (basically a cop) and gets into all KINDS of trouble. I've only technically read a couple of those books, and admittedly, I don't like them as much as their follow up series. But if you do enjoy these books, you should check out I, Jedi, by Michael A. Stackpole, which is about Corran in later life

The follow up series is the Wraith Squadron books by Aaron Allston. It's also about a squadron Wedge put together, but it's made up of washouts and rejects, and they end up as a black ops division. It's simultaneously really sad and some of the funniest Star Wars I've ever read, and there's a running joke about an Ewok lieutenant

I'm gonna recommend the Republic Commando series by Karen Traviss, but with a caveat. Karen Traviss, for some reason, seems to really, really hate the Jedi. And that is reflected in her writing, but it's almost worth it for the Mandalorians adopting clones and the TRAGEDY. This one is set during the end of the Clone War, through Order 66. It also does not end super satisfyingly, but it's weirdly good anyways. So it's really up to you whether or not you think you can handle the rampant loathing of Jedi

Uhhh let's see, what else. There are so so many Legends books. The Jedi Academy Trilogy by Kevin J Anderson isn't the best written, but it gives you a really good look at what Luke's new Jedi Order looks like as he's building (and also happens, timeline-wise, at the same time as I, Jedi)

I think those are the main ones I know well enough to recommend! In my experience, anything by Timothy Zahn or Aaron Allston is pretty good. Avoid Troy Denning at all cost-- he does not, in my experience, write stuff that is particularly admirable, and it can be kinda gross. If you end up with a particular character you like a lot who you're looking for more content of, there's a good chance there's more out there! Feel free to send me any other questions you have, and don't feel pressure to read all of it. No one can possibly be an expert on all of Star Wars, there's just. Way too much of it (of course that's not really gonna stop me from trying)

#thanks for the ask!!#star wars legends #thanks for letting me rant i much appreciate it #and now i really wanna check out some more legends books it's been too long

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is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not · 8 days

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SLDF Naval Assets, as of Operation TOUCHDOWN, 2153

SLS McKenna's Pride, McKenna-class battleship, SLDF Flagship (Commanding General's Squadron)

SLS Zughoffer Weir, McKenna-class battleship

SLS Bismarck, Texas-class battleship

SLS Ukraine, Texas-class battleship

SLS Chieftain, Liberation (Stefan Amaris)-class battleship (reactivated from museum ship status)

SLS Galactica, Dreadnought-class Battleship (reactivated from museum ship status; extensive refit)

SLS Quicksilver Mongoose, Du Shi Wang-class battleship (recovered from Clan Homeworlds mothball fleet during Operation PICKPOCKET)

SLS Great Coyote Spirit, Nightlord-class battleship (recovered from Clan Homeworlds mothball fleet during Operation PICKPOCKET)

SLS Barham, Monsoon-class battleship (recovered from Clan Homeworlds mothball fleet during Operation PICKPOCKET)

SLS Enterprise, Enterprise-class supercarrier

SLS Blood Drinker, Black Lion-class battlecruiser

SLS Arctic Wolf, Black Lion-class battlecruiser

SLS Dark Wolf, Black Lion-class battlecruiser

SLS Jade Aerie, Black Lion-class battlecruiser

SLS White Aerie, Black Lion-class battlecruiser

SLS Streaking Mist, Black Lion-class battlecruiser

SLS Tripitz, Black Lion-class battlecruiser (hulk recovered from New Vandenburg system in return for concessions to Taurian Concordat; repaired and refitted)

SLS Bloody Fang, Cameron-class battlecruiser

SLS Turkina's Pride, Cameron-class battlecruiser

SLS Blue Talon, Aegis-class heavy cruiser

SLS Jade Talon, Aegis-class heavy cruiser

SLS Red Talon, Aegis-class heavy cruiser

SLS Gold Talon, Aegis-class heavy cruiser

SLS Chaos Sailor, Aegis-class heavy cruiser

SLS White Terror, Aegis-class heavy cruiser

SLS Auspicium, Aegis-class heavy cruiser

SLS Manassas, Aegis-class heavy cruiser (experimental refit)

SLS Talismantia, Sovetskii Soyuz-class heavy cruiser (leased from Clan Sea Fox)

SLS Soyal, Soyal-class heavy cruiser

SLS Victoria Ward, Liberator-class light cruiser

SLS Jerome Winson, Liberator-class light cruiser

SLS Surprise, Kimagure Surprise-class pursuit cruiser

SLS Vision of Truth, Potemkin-class troop cruiser

SLS Renown, Potemkin-class troop cruiser

SLS Abyssal, Potemkin-class troop cruiser (leased from Clan Sea Fox)

SLS Bonaventure, Potemkin-class troop cruiser (leased from Raven Alliance)

SLS Eden Rose, Potemkin-class troop cruiser (leased from Raven Alliance)

SLS Okami, Lola III-class destroyer

SLS Caleuche, Lola III-class destroyer (leased from Clan Sea Fox)

SLS Emerald Tornado, Whirlwind-class destroyer

SLS Jade Tornado, Whirlwind-class destroyer

SLS Sabre Cat, Essex-class destroyer

SLS The Iowa, Essex-class destroyer

SLS Abundantia, Essex-class destroyer

SLS Deathblow, Essex-class destroyer

SLS Manchester, Suffren-class destroyer

SLS Rogue, Congress-class frigate

SLS Fire Crest, Congress-class frigate

SLS Kerensky's Pride, Congress-class frigate

SLS Silver Merlin, Peregrine-class corvette

SLS Green Kestrel, Peregrine-class corvette

SLS Killing Blow, Vincent Mk42-class corvette

SLS Arm's Reach, Vincent Mk42-class corvette

SLS Simas Osis, Vincent Mk42-class corvette

SLS Liberator, Volga-class transport (leased from Clan Sea Fox)

SLS Megalodon, Volga-class transport (leased from Clan Sea Fox)

SLS Matahourua, Merchant Carrack-class transport (leased from Clan Sea Fox)

SLS Tethys, Carrack-class transport (leased from Clan Sea Fox)

SLS Dover, Faslane-class yardship

SLS Necessitas, Faslane-class yardship

SLS Harmonia, Faslane-class yardship

SLS Glamorgan, Faslane-class yardship

#battletech #mechwarrior #story event #tactical information

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danco110 · 24 days

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“No, not the myr- AH!”

The Neurok rebel cried out in pain as a second bolt flew, removing their ring finger and its ring from their hand. They waited for a finishing blow, but upon looking up from their wound - already dripping with glistening oil from the spell - they saw a chrome-plated Phyrexian merely waving them away with a silvery claw.

“Goodbye, Gel,” the Phyrexian hissed forcefully.

Gel gritted their teeth. “What, no…preaching about Phyrexia today, Sarnvax? No follow-through, either?”

“No to both.”

“No…?”

Gel hesitated, but pain ultimately turned their full attention to their oil-slick injury. Though Sarnvax’s faceplate was but featureless chrome, his posture radiated annoyance as he watched Gel flee.

—

“And stay out!”

Sarnvax’s shield spell deflected the incoming lightning. A squadron of Quiet Furnace goblins cackled madly on the other side of the barrier, but trailed off as they found themselves stumped by the shield.

“So we can’t…oh…” The goblin at the head of the formation banged a metallic fist against the barrier, but to no avail. Disappointed, it and its friends beat a hasty retreat, leaving Sarnvax chuckling quietly at the halfhearted attack.

“They are gone!”

A nervous squeak came from behind Sarnvax. As he dispelled his shield, a second Phyrexian stumbled into view,, with all manner of chrome wires embedded in their back.

“Thank you, I-”

“It is just my job, Gel. Although, I always did like you.”

“I noticed,” Gel chuckled. “You let me go as a Mirran, and still accepted me later, when I’d already turned.”

Sarnvax shuddered. “It is better that way. Jin-Gitaxias saves his more ‘experimental’ procedures for captives. I am glad I helped, but I wish I could do more…”

“Well…” Gel waved a four-taloned claw, “you helped me plenty…even if your way of helping was quite annoying, with all the counterspells.”

“Apologies.” Sarnvax’s faceplate betrayed nothing, but his tone held immense gratitude for the attempted pep talk. “But it is always so satisfying.”

[Dang, Sarnvax has been stopping Sol Rings since 2011!

Also, just speaking from experience with my playgroups, if you don’t win or lock fast, sometimes it really is a mercy to get your t1 Sol Ring countered, so you don’t get ganged up upon!]

#mtg #magic the gathering #new phyrexia #story bites

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whirlybirbs · 1 year

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grim kicking his stim habit is my favorite 111th attack battalion lore because the truth is that when he’s sober, he is the exact same as when he was actively abusing upper and downer GAR issued stims except he’s chronically exhausted and does need a little nap because the caf just doesn’t do it

#the nightmares part of this is a whole other egg #anyways this is a grim shit post <3 #i love my king #talon squadron

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yami268 · 6 months

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Been working on fic about Aerrow experiencing a person's backstory and it got me thinking on how he would be with someone that breaks his perception on the war.

Now, there's nothing wrong with simplicity and evil for the sake of evil. But given with shows like Avatar: the Last Airbender, I can't help but think about scenarios where Aerrow kinda sees that the conflict isn't really as black and white. Like what if he and his squadron help out like a sky knight with a similar personality and he really starts to admire him. But then, they show that they're very willing to do whatever it takes, including dragging innocents into it, or are willing to go through with deplorable acts for they feel their justified and on the "right" side. Or he comes across talons that deserted or are prepared to rebel against Cyclonis. Heck, he could be on terra where they rely on the Cyclonian Empire or feel that both sides screwed them over.

It's interesting to think about.

#Yami Yalps #Storm Hawks #There's probably a couple that get close in show #But they seem to get glossed over or rushed #Also Carver may be the best as he just wanted to kill Aerrow cuz he has a hero complex

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usafphantom2 · 4 months

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U.S. Air Force U-2 Dragon Lady’s and chase cars from the 99th Reconnaissance Squadron, T-38 Talon’s from the 1st Reconnaissance Squadron, and KC-135R Stratotanker’s from the 940th Air Refueling Wing conduct an elephant walk on Beale Air Force Base, California, Jan. 4, 2023. The elephant walk showcased a display of joint airpower between the wings hosted at Beale.

📸 Senior Airman Juliana Londono

@TheIntelFrog via X

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wrathful-reptile · 16 hours

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No Glory Found

Content warnings: Violence, gore, death

Beamstalker short story

"You can't do this Gol."Tal hissed, his ivory colored feathers flaring out in a threat display to a slightly smaller and younger Beamstalker. The smaller one looked up with anger.

"You will see."The younger rattled their own golden feathers in defiance, lifting their head to appear taller.

"No, I will see you die a fool."Tal turned away."None can fight an emperor alone. You have nothing to prove in doing so beyond the fact you refuse to work within the squadron."

"I will be victorious and come back with the head of one of those rotten beasts! And when Lightweaver herself sees my skill, you will all see the glow on my hide! I'll be blessed by the light!"Gol made his way out of the territory, one thing on his mind. The hunt. The light. He wouldn't return until he found an emperor.

Or…

He stared at the border between Light and Shadow with hesitation."Mother Lightweaver give me guidance to cross your sister's realm or provide a means for my journey among your brightness, for I found no threats to your brilliance here."He took a deep breath after no signs appeared and journeyed out, expecting much resistance and danger in a land he thought lightless. But here in shadow, he started to find light. The glow of the flora and fauna guided his journey and for that he was thankful. Perhaps even in the shadows, light could be found. He found comfort in this, carrying on, finding no threats in shadow, but his mistake was when he'd hit plague.

He wasn't far into the flight's lands when he saw a banner bearing light's crest tattered on the ground. Heavy footsteps, snarling. Cries for help truly caught his attention, seeing a massive beast in the distance. His chance to shine as light was meant to.

His footsteps were quick across the terrain, carrying him straight to what he'd assumed was an emperor. It had light eyes. A shame that the traveler had fallen so far out, but that was beside the point. Traveling aberrations. They looked to be traders. He didn't dwell on it, though, making a series of whistles and chirps to gain the attention of the beast, as he'd been trained to from a young age.

Due to his exceptional speed and vocal range, he was originally placed as a scout and diversion. This was what he was trained for. But now? Now they'd see he was meant to be placed among the exterminators, the fighters of the hunting parties.

His speed gave him the upper hand against the bumbling behemoth as it tried to swat and attack to little effect. His talons pierced the rotting flesh and softened scales, making his way up it's leg and using his back talons to completely shred where he'd been. When he was on its back, the height was dizzying. He'd never been so far from the ground, quickly becoming a bit disoriented.

No! He had to focus! He had to gain favor and prove to them that he was a proper exterminator! Not a diversion! He dug his wing talons into the skin on the back of it's neck, feeling how even the bones were softened. He'd felt emperor bones before, they were never so soft. He was distracted again, only pulled from his thoughts as it was writhing and twisting, trying to remove him from it's hide.

He held tight, though the flesh tore easily from the sharpness of his claws and the level of rot it had to it. Finally he felt he had an opening. It had lowered its head in its madness, its bellows sounding like loud wheezes. He plunged his beak into the softened flesh, the hardened scale point serving its purpose and breaking through softened bone before severing the spinal cord and causing it to collapse.

Triumph! He looked over the emperor. He'd slain it! The pride in his heart was replaced with worry as he realized it had one head. Emperors have more than one.

"No. Someone weakened it first, didn't they?"He hissed to himself, figuring someone had removed two of the heads. Maybe in hopes to return it back to a living form? That was a common myth, after all. He looked towards the aberrations, who stared at him with great distrust.

"You are safe! I am one of Lightweaver's blessed heroes!"He said but they scoffed and continued on their way, heading to shadow, perhaps to trade mushroom cultures.

Gol fluffed out his feathers and looked pleased nonetheless. Although not as fresh as the food he preferred, this meal would at least be free of plague's diseases and the bones, though softer than those his kind usually consumed, were still plenty to give him the energy for the long, long journey back. And so he feasted on what was there of his battle and started back.

A few days in, not long after entering shadow's lands once again, he started to feel heavy. Perhaps a short rest was needed. He shook his head and found some brambles to use as cover to rest under.

The night felt long, or maybe it was because of the endless shadowing of the area. It even could be due to the fact rest was not coming easy. Waking with pain or feeling nauseated. He did not know truthfully why but Gol believed truly he'd simply contracted a sickness while in plague. Hopefully nothing major.

Though he felt so pained. Every step felt heavy and clumsy when he finally started to move onwards. His skin, unknown to him, wa starting to sag slightly. His eyes looked tired and sunken. The scale plating of his helm chipped under his claws as he scratched at it to ease a slight itch. His claws… they themselves broke and wore down as he made his way through the brambles of shadow. He noticed and though time passed, he knew he had to get back.

When the light finally touched his hide, its warmth wasn't present. He'd never felt colder. His steps unsteady. He tried to call out, seeing his kind in the distance, but his call came out a strained crowing, far from the words he'd wished to form. But they'd heard.

As the group approached, he recognized none of them. Not his squadron.

"Oh poor child. Rotten as an emperor."One of the older ones sighed.

"They bear the mark of the North squadron."

"This far west?"

"They emerged from the shadows. Perhaps they were cast from mother's light."Another suggested.

All of their words. He tried to speak but it was only gurgling and hisses. He tried to beg for help.

"There's nothing in those eyes. He's long gone. As rotten of body and mind as an emperor.

No. I'm still here! Please help!

"Perhaps they ate from a plague head. Bad luck those are."

He staggered forward only to feel claws rake his flesh.

"Pin, dispatch the living corpse and bury the poor child, then wash up. Whatever is wrong, we don't need spreading. We'll contact the North Squadron tomorrow."

#beamstalkers #violence #writing #death #gore #mild gore at least

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from-a-legends-pov · 12 days

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Star Wars Legends: Poll of the Week - Favorite Wraith Backstory, part 1

In the Star Wars Legends novel X-Wing: Wraith Squadron, Wedge Antilles and Wes Janson put together a new kind of group for the New Republic Navy – a combination commando unit and starfighter squadron. To conserve resources, Wedge and Wes recruited the initial members of the squadron largely from pilots who had promising skills, but had been identified as misfits or at risk of washing out of the New Republic navy.

Wedge, Wes, and ten other pilots with a variety of skills and backstories made up the original roster of Wraith Squadron (initially known as Gray Squadron).

Of these five original Wraiths to join Wedge and Wes, whose backstory is your favorite? (We’ll ask about the other half of the roster in part 2.)

Falynn Sandskimmer, an ace Y-wing pilot from Tatooine who was extremely sick of being compared to a certain X-wing pilot from Tatooine, and often got charged with insubordination for voicing her low opinion of Luke Skywalker and other famous Rebels.

Voort “Piggy” saBinring, a Gamorrean who had been genetically engineered for high intelligence and mathematical abilities, so skilled that he could do navigation calculations without an astromech and was an expert in pattern recognition; he had been charged with insubordination because other officers kept attempting to start fights with him, and merely blocking their punches was enough to get charged.

Myn Donos, a Corellian sniper and pilot who was the lone survivor when his former squadron, Talon Squadron, was ambushed; Talon Squadron was lured into the ambush thanks to false intelligence planted by Imperial agent Gara Petothel, and Donos was so troubled by the incident that he no longer would wear the Corellian bloodstripes he had earned previously.

Kell Tainer, an ace pilot and demolitions expert from Alderaan whose father, also a pilot, panicked during an early mission for the Rebellion and tried to flee, forcing Wes Janson to shoot him down and prompting Kell’s family to change their name due to his father’s reputation for cowardice; he constantly sought to be the best and to somehow make up for his father’s failings.

Jesmin Ackbar, a Mon Calamari and the niece of Admiral Gial Ackbar; Jesmin was a gifted pilot and communications expert but kept getting assignments way beneath her abilities, because nobody wanted to be the commanding officer who got Admiral Ackbar’s niece killed.

Hungry for more Legends content? Follow @from-a-legends-pov and check out our upcoming Star Wars Legends fanfiction event, From a Legends Point of View, HERE. Signups open April 28 — please encourage your favorite Star Wars writers to participate!

#star wars legends #star wars eu #star wars extended universe #sw legends #from a legends pov #poll of the week #wraith squadron #falynn sandskimmer #Voort saBinring #piggy #myn donos #kell tainer #jesmin ackbar #wraith backstories #part 1 #wedge antilles #wes janson #x-wing #aaron allston

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ghoulsister1 · 7 months

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I'm absolutely delusional but I absolutely need more of Harpy Manfred

Maybe some headcanons between him and fellow Aviator!Reader (either when they're both aviators in WWI or WWII where the reader ended up joining the British air force and moved there just to get away from all the shite going on in Germany)

Oh my god of course I can write you that! Yes of course! I've seen lots of people really loving my Manfred content, particularly him as a Harpy🥰 and I love doing headcanons!❤️ Okay, you've got yourself a headcanon! Thank you so much by the way! And don't worry, you are not delusional!🥰❤️😁👍 I'm gonna try a WW2 AU and see where it leads to! Thank you again!🥰

♤♡Harpy!Manfred With Aviator Reader Headcanons♤♡:

You and Manfred met previously before while you lived in the Germany, the young baron and yourself would spend hours together outside, lounging about and telling each other stories. You two also served in the same flight squadron, his Flying Circus to be exact with a brightly coloured plane that matched his own.

Another you discovered about the baron was that he wasn't truly human either. His hands had long sharp talons that he trimmed and shortened so he could wear his gloves along with his toes that needed trimming to fit onto his boots. He had sharp teeth and large wings the colours of ash, fire and blood. He was a Harpy and a proud one at that!

Though in battle he flew his signature red plane, but some days you could see him soaring through the skies proudly, not a care in the world. You often took your plane out and flew alongside him, just to watch how he flew through the air.

You two remained very close after WW1 and throughout the years of peace that followed, you two grew ever closer. And you admit to having grown quite infatuated with your Harpy. He noticed your feelings for him and definitely put the charm up to the max.....the Harpy way!

Manfred started to build a large nest for the two of in the forest in the spot you two loved to hang out together. He built it large and big, so to show you how better his nest was compared to other male Harpies. He'd decorate it with shiny pieces of jewellery and trinkets, to make the nest more prettier and attractive to you.

He showed off how strong he was by taking down a large elk with just talons and swiftness. He loves hunting, whether it be in battle or game.

"Look at that my schöne Taube! Taken down in one foul swoop! Impressive kill ja?" Boasted Manfred proudly, his talons stained red as he smirked in triumph.

"Very impressive Manfred. Are you gonna help me cook it?" You Asked raising an eyebrow.

Manfred blushed, his Harpy nature often makes him forget to eat food cooked sometimes.

"Oh ja, of course my liebesvögel" Replied Manfred smiling.

Things were going so well for you two, until WW2 broke out. Things got so bad in Germany, so bad you were forced to move away in order to protect your family, even though it meant leaving Manfred.

"Please Liebling, there must be another way! I can protect you and your family!" Pleaded Manfred. You sniffled.

"I'm so sorry Manfred! I promise, one day we'll meet again. I will return to you and then we can have a life together, a life without fear" You Promised.

"Okay Liebling, I will wait for you. I promise you I will wait. But I'm going to miss you so much" Replied Manfred sadly.

"Me too Manny. Ich liebe dich" You Said tearfully.

"Ich liebe dich auch" Replied Manfred and you two shared a heartfelt kiss goodbye and with that you, you left Germany and Manfred.

You and your family relocated to England. While there, the Blitz began. Luckily your parents were living in the countryside safe. You decided to join the Royal British Air Force and help fight against the new fascist regime.

You flew your Spitfire into many battles, your skills in WW1 serving you well and with your Flying Circus tricks, you were not only a deadly aviator but a very tricky target to hit.

You were flying over Germany during an air raid when lufftwaffen squadrons were flying in. You took a lot down with your shots and evading skills but you started to get overwhelmed. Suddenly another plane flew on to the scene. A Fokker, painted red. You watched as it moved and evaded enemy fire whilst taking down the enemies. There was no doubt about it, it was Manfred!

Suddenly his plane was hit and started hurtling towards the ground but Manfred shot up from the plane, wings out and talons ready as he tore into the engines of the few remaining planes before flying close to your window looking at you. His eyes widened as he realised it was you.

"Y/N! My Liebling!.....you're.....you're back?" Stammered Manfred as he gazed at you. You smiled back and signalled to him you were landing.

You landed in a field and Manfred joined you. As soon as you got out of the plane, you both ran and hugged each other.

"Manny! Oh Manny I missed you so much!" You Cried happily.

"And I missed you very much Y/N, so very much!" Smiled Manfred as he held you close.

"So, you joined the British" Remarked Manfred looking at your Spitfire. You nodded.

"I did. To fight against the fascists that turned this country into a mess. And you? Seems you didn't have a problem taking down those lufftwaffens" You Remarked.

"I am no friend to the fascists Y/N. They put a madman in charge, a cruel dictator and now our country has become ruined" Answered Manfred with a disdain in his voice.

"I understand Manny. I'm glad I didn't have to fight you" You Admitted. Manfred chuckled.

"I would never join them. Never" Admitted Manfred and you smiled.

You both leaned in for a long, passionate kiss. You both missed each other terribly.

"Is our nest still here?" You Asked. Manfred frowned.

"Sadly no. Artillery in the forest destroyed it" Replied Manfred sadly. You frowned and cupped his cheek gently.

"We can build another nest Manny. Bigger than the last one. But first we must fight this war. Only then once it's over, we can live our lives" You Vowed and Manfred smirked.

You both fought till the war ended, celebrating the victory with some bubbly and good food. When all had returned to normality, your family returned to Germany.

Manfred and you rekindled your romance. He took you out to lovely scenic picnics, even flew alongside you in your Spitfire on summer days and bought you luxurious gifts. Ever the gentleman, he treated with respect and loved you like no other.

Manfred did build a bigger and better nest. And he asked you that night if you'd be his mate.

"Harpies mate for life Liebling, there will never ever be another woman for me. I love you so much" Vowed Manfred.

"I may not be a Harpy Manny, but you can trust me to always be there for you and love you with all my heart" You Vowed.

And with that, you two sealed the deal with a deep and passionate kiss as Manfred encircled his warm wings around you.

You were his mate, now and forever. And he was yours, now and forever.❤️

Thank you so much to the anon that requested this Harpy Manfred headcanon! I hope you like it and I hope it's what you desired. I loved writing it🥰💗 So thank you again!💗 Have a wonderful evening!❤️🥰

#answered #request #anon ask #anon request #anonymous #manfred von richthofen #the red baron #ww1 #ww2 #history #headcanons #my headcanons #harpy #harpy au #headcanon requests

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