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obsessivevoidkitten · 1 year

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Dishonorably Discharged and Detained

Alpha Shark Man x Gender Neutral Omega Reader (CW: Dubcon, a/b/o, omega reader, DILF, size difference, shark man, merman, biting, marking, claiming, heat cycles, breeding, kidnapping, force fed reader, reader is briefly shocked by an electric fence, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 4.7k (18 minutes into March and already a fic is posted! This was written as a birthday gift for a friend, happy birthday, you know who you are, my longest friendship and trusted confidant. I hope you all enjoy this. Also I tagged this as a merman because I think it qualifies, even without a fish tail a person who is part fish counts. I will die on this hill.)

The dreadnought you were on sailed at a fair pace, ever forward, back to your base. It had been deployed to the front but the battle was over before you even had a chance to arrive, enemy presence in the area had been way overestimated and your unit had not been needed. The sea ahead of you lie calm and serene, the sun scintillating off the surface of the water and the salty breeze kissed your skin, feeling pleasant in your stuffy uniform. You were second in command of the ship directly behind Admiral Reeves, you were an omega but with hard work and perseverance you had managed to defy all expectations of what an omega could be, ranking higher than many alphas your age. This caused some issues when you had first achieved your current rank, but over time you had gained the respect and obedience of those under you as well as the respect of your superiors. You had become invaluable to Admiral Reeves both as a hard worker, a motivator of the troops, and even a strategist he could always call upon for a second opinion when planning on how to engage an enemy force or escape a harrowing situation. That wasn’t to say things were completely easy for you, whenever you were docked or dealing with other service members that were not in your unit you always had to stand strong against harassment and catcalls. And being constantly surrounded by so many alphas, and the pheromones that accompanied them, could sometimes make you more than a bit dizzy. Admiral Reeves’ pheromones were among the most potent, he was not a regular human like most of your peers. He was a shark man. A hybrid species that had been genetically engineered decades ago to help humans explore the seas and get an advantage in maritime combat. Reeves’ heritage was obvious. His sharp teeth, the fin on his back, webbed fingers, gills at the base of his neck, and pale blue skin giving him away to any who saw him. He was likely in his early fifties, it was slightly hard to tell though given he wasn’t completely human, but his short hair had an attractive peppering of grey. As mentioned previously his pheromones were much stronger than an average alpha’s. Probably because he was significantly larger than a normal human. It made being an omega near him all the time slightly difficult, but the main difficulty was that sometimes his cool headed handle on his instincts slipped a bit and he could be just a slight bit overprotective of you. He never disrespected you or questioned your ability to carry out your duties though. After enjoying a few minutes of sunlight and salty sea air you began to make your way back below deck to the dorsal side of the bow where the bridge was contained, you had to make contact with the mainland and give them your coordinates and estimated time of arrival. But before you could even leave the deck a sudden explosion sent you flying. You remained conscious just long enough to notice your right arm and leg were bleeding. You tried to get up but within seconds you collapsed. The next few weeks were a blur that you were almost entirely unconscious for, with only brief fragments of confused awareness. You remembered seeing medics above you, you remember a moment of being in the ship’s medical bay as the ship weaponry fired, and you remembered being awake several times briefly in a hospital bed. When you finally, REALLY, woke up you were in significant pain. Your arm and leg that you had seen bleeding were both in a cast with your leg suspended, your vision was a bit blurry, and your head was throbbing. You had great trouble concentrating, it took great effort to collect yourself and assess your situation. You were no longer in the ship’s medical bay and there were no windows in your room, it seemed very minimalist. Probably a military hospital on base. There was nothing really much you could do other than just try to relax and let yourself heal, eventually a nurse walked in and immediately rushed over to you to check your vitals and ask you a few questions to make sure you were fully aware and awake. After doing so she hurriedly rushed out, staff was under strict orders to notify Reeves the second that you were awake. Since the ship you had been stationed on, The Sentinel, was docked for repairs Reeves was currently at the naval base that you were receiving treatment from and it did not take long for him to be notified about your updated condition and come speeding to your side. You could tell immediately by his scent he had not been getting much sleep and he had been more than a bit anxious. Not surprising, probably lost some good soldiers in that battle and then having to wait as the ship was repaired or for him to get a new assignment was probably pretty stressful. You could have never imagined that the reason for his recent distress had actually been your hospitalization. But it had affected him in ways he would not have thought previously possible. He stood beside you with a huge grin on his face. On anyone and to anyone else it may have been frightful, given the sharp nature of his teeth, but you knew it was a good sign. “Nice to see you awake after you’ve been lazing about in bed for a few weeks, haha,” he joked with his typical sense of humor before his face got grim and he took on a more solemn tone, “But... in all seriousness… It’s good to see you’re okay. We lost some good ones in that attack. Sunk the bastards that did it though.” You took a moment of silence before breaking the tension. “Don’t worry, fish breath, after a short recovery I will be their worst nightmare. I will sink their entire navy myself.” Reeves hastily hid a worried expression at the thought of you returning to duty, you didn’t know what the expression was for but it was probably just a bit of stress piercing through that rough exterior of his. “Heh, yeah. I’m sure. The little pipsqueak is gonna have them all on the ropes. They’ll piss themselves,” he chuckled heartily, though it sounded just a wee bit forced. After some small talk and him telling you about the casualties and general condition of everything he reluctantly left, after the nurse shooed him away to let you rest. For the next 5 to 6 weeks it seemed like resting was all you could really do and by the time you were ready to be released and begin physical therapy to get back to tip top shape you were really ready to get out of bed. Over the course of your recovery Reeves continued to visit you, really just about everyday that he could, to see how you were progressing and he seemed to be increasingly anxious about you returning to duty. Now that you were out of bed that anxiety seemed too palpable for you to ignore and finally, after he had given you a nervous look when you mentioned your excitement to be seaworthy right as The Sentinel was nearly ready to depart, you decided to just ask him about it. “It may just be me but… it seems like you don’t really want me back on duty…” “What that’s crazy!” he said in a manner that had you wholly unconvinced. You crossed your arms, tilted your head slightly, and stared at him with an expression that said “really?” He sighed deeply before finally admitting outright what he had been thinking since the moment you had been taken to the ship’s med bay. “Look… I know you are a talented sailor but… are you sure you should keep doing this?” You were stunned, mouth agape in shock, but he took your silence as an opportunity to press forward with his line of logic. “I mean… you have a smaller frame than anyone else. The doctors did not know if you would survive at first and the doctors said that even a beta, let alone an alpha, with a larger body would not have been so damaged by the blast or so endangered by the blood loss,” once he started saying all this the words just seemed to spill out of his mouth, like he had been damming them up and it had finally burst allowing him to unleash a torrent of his thoughts on the matter. There was of course much more to it than that, he was in love with you, but even if he had been honest about not wanting you back in combat he could not be completely honest with you or with himself on why exactly he was so adamant. You were speechless a moment more before becoming absolutely indignant. “SEVERAL people passed away in that battle, and all of them were all alphas, war doesn’t spare anyone!” Normally someone speaking to their direct superior in such a manner would be reprimanded but you were beyond caring at this point. “That may be true, but being smaller and more fragile doesn’t help your chances. And you have always been a bit accident prone…” Not an entirely unwarranted criticism, you did tend to be a bit accident prone, though all of those were minor injuries, nothing serious until now, but having enemy ammunition go off near you was hardly your fault and anyone, regardless of body or constitution, would have been injured by such a situation. Incredulous at his comments you stormed off, he called out behind you but you kept going on. That night you didn’t get much rest and you were irritable the next morning. But that did not compare you to the anger you had when you reported in the next morning and had Reeves tell you that he did not want you working with him anymore, he wanted you off the ship working in a safer non-combat capacity. You just stormed off once again to get reassigned to another combat ship. It didn’t have to be glamorous, it could be a fucking submarine for all you cared. It hurt, and it hurt bad, that you would not be with your former crew, or with the leader you had grown to consider a friend, but in battle was where you were meant to be. You put in for reassignment and vacillated between anger, grief, and feelings of betrayal for the remainder of the day. As at the end of everyday you made your way to the omega barracks. You were the only one using them currently, unlike on the ships there were fresh recruits trained on site so separate sleeping arrangements were made. It was hard but eventually you managed to push your raging emotions aside and go to sleep. Reeves had heard about your reassignment, he figured you might be difficult. Instead of asking for a non-combative position you had of course just let them reassign you to another dreadnought. He couldn’t just tank your career to get you out of the front lines, you had too impeccable of a record for anyone to believe that and too many sailors that would vouch for you, no, he would have to instead use his ties to have you erased completely. The shark was a very high ranking admiral with ties to the intelligence agencies and it was within his power to do such a thing, considering you had no civilian friends or family to poke around, and anyone in the navy who might poke around could easily be brushed off or told that you had passed away in the line of duty. So in the dead of night you were disappeared. Operatives quickly snuck in and made their way to your sleeping form, quickly injecting you with a serum that would keep you completely unconscious for many hours and then shoving you into a black sack. You woke up from probably what could be described as the deepest and most fulfilling sleep you had ever known, and then you looked around and realized that you were most certainly not where you had gone to sleep. Gone were the rows of bunk beds that had filled the small omega barracks room, replaced by a small room without any windows, blank walls, and harsh lights. It all seemed very… antiseptic. Too clean. Too empty. You went to the door, which had a small barred hole window, and tried to open it, but it was completely sealed with no way to open it without the key. But you were stubborn and shouted a few curses while trying to force it open anyway. This proved to be a mistake, as it summoned your captor. Reeves. “Admiral!? What the fuck!?! Where are we? Why am I being detained?” He looked at you and with a regretful sigh said, “You just… wouldn’t listen to reason. And I couldn’t lose you.” “My god… You’re absolutely insane! You can’t just cage me up like I am some sort of animal just because I don’t want to live my life how you want me to!” “I AM NOT INSANE!! You refused to see reason! I love you and couldn’t have you in danger anymore and you just wanted to charge in and get hurt. Your injury was a sign that it needed to stop. YOU NEED TO BE SAFE!” You flinched back, unaccustomed to him being so loud and angry. At seeing you recoil his face softened and his tone became much more quiet. “Look, you’ll get used to it here okay? I know the room is a bit bare but we can put whatever you want in here, okay? The war will be over soon and I will be able to be home and then you can move in with me.” You looked down, angry and depressed and betrayed, unable to meet his gaze. Finally he sighed heavily and mumbled that he would have someone bring you some food but he had to go. That’s largely how life went for you there for roughly a year. Facility staff would take care of your day to day needs and every few months, or sometimes weeks, you would get a visit from Reeves. Each time he would offer you some gift or trinket, repeating his confessions of love and care for you. He gave you sweets, blankets, plushies, flowers, and various other things. The blankets and plushies were scented by him, in typical courting fashion, but no matter what the item was you shoved it in the farthest corner of the room. Except the sweets, they would have expired, so instead you would immediately throw them at him. Reeves was more than distraught, not only were his attempts to advance a relationship with you not succeeding, but the friendship you had before was totally eroded. Till, the most important thing above all else was that you remained safe, and once the war ended, which would be any day now, he would be able to move you to his house and take care of you daily himself. When the war was finally over and the time had come for you to be transported to your new happy home with your captor and the destroyer of your life you fought the personnel that were trying to put you in the transport van that had been loaded with all of your things tooth and claw. Literally. You clawed and bit everyone who got near you, you would rather live in a boring glorified cage for the rest of your life than be in a house with Reeves. Finally they had you held down by multiple men and once again injected with a sedative. And, just like a somewhat uncertain amount of months previously, you woke up in a strange room. This time on a couch though. A blanket had been lovingly put on top of you and a soft pillow placed behind your head. This was obviously Reeves’ house. Unlike last time you had been informed of your destination before being abducted. It appeared you were in a modified basement, you looked around, searching for anything that may be useful as a weapon. Sadly, it seemed the room had been left clear of anything you could use to fight Reeves with. There were tiny windows, but they were not only really high up but also really small. Even if you could somehow manage to eat them you would never manage to squeeze through them. There was really only one course of action left for you. You took the blanket that had been left down here for you and waited at the door for Reeves to come down and check on you. When he finally opened it you hid behind it until he took a few steps down. You then threw the blanket over his head and kicked his legs as hard as you could making him stumble, you took the opening to push him down the steps and flee out of the basement. You came up into a hallway that connected to the living room and rushed out the door. You were more than a bit shaky, you had no shoes, and your body was weak but pushed on by a potent mix of sheer force of will and a strong dose of adrenaline allowed you to propel yourself forward. You ran down the driveway and came to a fence that was entirely locked up. No problem. You could scale this with ease, flee into the woods that seemed to surround this area, and eventually find help on the other side. But the second you touched the fence and electric current ran through your body, causing you to twitch and fall down stunned. It was electrified. Because of course it was. For someone he was worried about dying in battle he sure as shit did not seem to underestimate you when it came to you trying to escape. It didn’t take long for him to come running, you had hoped you may have been lucky enough to at least have broken a leg or ankle as he fell, but it seems he was unperturbed by his recent push. You were too shaky at this point to do anything other than let him pick you up and hold you close. “It’s okay, I know you’re scared, I forgive you for pushing me. And sorry about the fence, can’t take any chances.” He carried you back down to the basement and sat you down gently on the couch, laying the blanket that you had formerly used as a weapon on top of you before kissing your forehead, which made you flinch away in disgust. “Now that we are living together I will be able to give you the non-stop attention you deserve. I am sure you will love it here eventually, okay?” “Not okay you absolute fucking idiot, there is no way in the world I will ever love you or even remotely tolerate your presence! Just let me go! The war is already over anyway.” “There is always another war eventually and I must keep you safe from yourself. I just can't risk losing you, can’t you understand that?” You just scoffed in response and pulled the cover over your face so you didn’t have to look at him. Reeves tried rubbing your arm comfortingly through the blanket, and you could do nothing to stop given how shaken up you still were, but he could smell in your scent that you were growing increasingly angry and even a bit anxious at his touch so he finally retreated upstairs to make you a nice dinner. He remembered from years of service with you that you got pretty cranky when you were hungry. When he came back he brought with him a bowl of delicious smelling crab bisque, something he thought was fairly light and easily digestible, but not too light and still full of nutrients. He sat the bowls down on the coffee table and sat on the opposite side of the couch from you. “Sorry about the furniture accommodations. I will move a table and bed down here for you eventually. At some point you will share my bed but I felt like an adjustment period might be good for you first.” “Yeah, so I don’t murder you in your sleep,” you said dryly and without any hint of it being a joke. “Y-you don’t mean that, you’re just a bit cranky because you need some foo-” **CRASH** He was interrupted by you using your hand to smack the bowl of bisque right the fuck off the table and into the hard concrete wall, not unlike a cat that had taken offense to a cup on a table. “It’s… okay… I made more than enough. I know this has been hard on you.” All you did was blankly stare at him as he went and procured another bowl. It smelled great and you were well and truly hungry, but you refused to give in. If you made sure not to eat too much your body would not trigger a heat because it would take too much energy. You also just wanted to piss him off, maybe get him so pissed off that he either lets you go or at least makes some mistakes that you can exploit. When he handed you the second bowl he had gotten for you it immediately met the same fate as its predecessor. He stared at you for a long moment that seemed to span an eternity before he angrily grabbed his bowl of food and pulled you close to him by his arm. He pinched your nose closed so you had to open your mouth and then he shoved a spoonful of food into your mouth, then he held his hand over your mouth so you had to swallow. Reeves continued this a couple times until you got the memo and ate the rest of the bowl willingly. Well… you had wanted him to be pissed. Over the course of weeks you had to accept that you just had to eat what you were given, but by no means did you just give up on making life inconvenient for him. Every gift tossed, any furniture he brought down here destroyed, blankets shredded, anytime he scented something it would be immediately quarantined to the closet after its destruction. The only thing you kept was clothing you deemed acceptable and without his smell on it, you needed clothes but would not accept any with his pheromones. That could be misconstrued as you accepting courtship. You were perfectly content with denying him any ounce of love, affection, or friendship and you were right in the middle of giving a nice silent treatment when finally the proper nutrition and your omega nature convened to ruin everything. You were in heat. Heats were very strong on a normal day, but this was not a normal heat, this was the first heat in a very long time. You had prevented them for a long time in the black site and when you were in the navy of course you took prescribed suppressants. You hadn’t had one in years. Tremors shook your body, you couldn’t stand and your body temperature was heightened. They didn’t call it a heat for nothing. Your brain was addled, you were dizzy and almost delirious, you could barely remember why you were here. You tossed off the covers and stripped down to your slick soaked underwear. Reeves was awoken by an amazing scent and knew immediately what it was, your pheromones beckoning him even from his bedroom, his darling needed him desperately. The smell demanded he come immediately to you and comfort you and take care of you in every way imaginable. Reeves saw you there before him, writhing in carnal need and so small and helpless in front of him. The couch wouldn’t do, he needed a bigger and more familiar space, he took you up to his room where he had actually made and maintained a nest made of things that smelled of the both of you. Despite a vague notion in the back of your mind telling you to avoid him, scratch him, and leave this situation, your instincts and the powerful consequences of having denied yourself your natural cycle DEMANDED that you bury your nose into the scent gland of his neck. So strong, such a strong mate. Reeves was elated, his brain was very much fogged too with lust and instinct but he didn’t have it as badly as you did. He was very much aware that his darling mate was finally accepting and even actively seeking out comfort from him. The shark man peeled off your slick saturated underwear, sniffing at your hole, breathing in the heavenly aroma you made, before your cries of desperation and something inside of him told him to slide his tongue right inside. Finally you began to feel the smallest amount of relief. It wasn’t enough, you needed a knot. A nice big knot from a nice big alpha, and this one smelled strong. You grinded yourself into his probing tongue, whimpering for much more. After several minutes of this he decided that was enough of getting your flavor and he was now ready to properly breed and mark his sweet little brat. He took off his clothes, revealing his large well muscled pecs, lightly scarred from years of combat, and his large cock. The musk coming from it made you drool. He wasted no time ramming into you, as caught up in the moment as he was he had little concern for going slow or for any possible discomfort. Fortunately there was none, you were perfectly primed for his large prick. It slid in you perfectly hitting all the right spots inside of you, causing you to squeal with delight when he bottomed out, deep within you. He moaned himself when he felt your heat and how every movement you made, every shudder, squirm, and all that writhing, he could feel on his cock. He started slow at first, but that was not what either of you wanted and soon it turned into a messy slamming of you, making hot wet sounds as he battered your innards with his cock pistoning in and out. It did not take long at all for his knot to start to swell within you and then reach its full size, sealing the two of you together whether or not you would want it when post heat clarity hit you. You clung to him tightly as he bred you, nails clawing at the skin of his back, as if trying to pull him deeper inside you. He nuzzled into your neck, his nose swimming in your scent as he breathed it in, this is what he had wanted for so long and now he knew he would never regret his actions, everything had been worth it. Reeves licked your neck and bit down on your scent gland, sharp teeth buried into your neck, you whimpered at the sensation and he licked your neck comfortingly, holding you close as you both shared a powerful orgasm. You both panted from the intensity, the heat that was burning up your will power and clarity fading a bit, but not enough to be yourself again. Reeves knew on some level that when things went back to normal you would still resist him, and your convictions would not be so altered in subsequent heats now that you had one after so long, but this was a good start to everything finally falling into place. Your heat would last days and there would be a lot of breeding and a lot of bonding. His instinct to protect you would only get stronger and you would be a bit more susceptible to his pheromones and would naturally seek him out for comfort when in distress. He may have been part fish, but it was you who were caught in his net.

#yandere merman #yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere boyfriend #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #male yandere x gn reader #merman boyfriend #yandere husband #yandere a/b/o #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #omega reader #My OCs #My OC Reeves

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threewaysdivided · 9 months

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New Desktop Dash, No Bueno

Okay so, new dash layout on desktop.

As seems to be a common reaction: not a fan.

Let's talk about some of the issues:

1. Really visually cluttered

The new sidebar crowds out the dashboard content and the bright blue popup notifications (now at the side AND top) and create-post bar pull your eyes in different directions. There is no space for the eye to rest on anymore - it's all noise. The end result is that everything flattens - there's no focal point anymore.

It's also pretty overwhelming - even for someone like me - so I can't imagine it would be very user-friendly to someone who was photosensitive or struggled with visual overload (especially when paired with the high-contrast 'true blue' default site palette and animated icons for the changes-on-tumblr/staff-picks/trending buttons).

2. The activity pop-up now covers dashboard content

This is really bad from a usability standpoint. In the old layout the activity pop-up used to drop down over the recommended blogs sidebar. Now it actively gets in the way of looking at core content. The dash is why we are here, burying it like this is baffling.

The search bar now drops down over the recommended blogs banner instead, but where the old design had non-critical space on each side of the dashboard to visually allow both features to pop in, this new layout is way worse for efficiency. And for what? Having a rarely-used former drop-down menu now permanently active? The old banner with quick-links for the key use-features (notes, messages, askbox) made much more design sense.

It also means that the activity pop-up gets now completely covered by the blog pop-up that opens when you click the notification, so double demerit there. 0/10.

3. It's harder to navigate to the activity page, and the new page-stretch means you can't see new notes without scrolling down

That first bit is kind of a nitpick but cramming the 'See everything' link down at the bottom of a browser window isn't a great navigation choice. (Again, the visual signifiers and eye-direction in this new design are incredibly poor.)

That the main activity page now requires you to scroll to even see the top note due to the new display ratio is really egregious. It makes another key site feature just slightly less convenient and accessible in a very irritating way. Bad choice.

4. The new ratio pushes the Radar and Main Sponsored slot completely off-screen

This one is directed the tumblr staff: that's also a bad choice, guys. That's your main ad-slot for people loading into Tumblr so hiding it is going to hurt both your ad-impressions and your ability to promote the ad-free option. The new layout ratio also means that the in-dash ads are going to be a lot more invasively screen-filling - and let's be real most users will either add-block or leave before purchasing ad-free. I have no idea what the new layout is trying to achieve but if ad optimisation is the goal then this ain't it, chief.

To be honest I cannot comprehend the rationale for this change. I guess it's visually a bit more like Twitter... but that site is currently being demolished from the inside by poor management decisions so maybe it's not the best aesthetic to be aping.

Well then, what do?

Okay so, new dash bad. And so, in true Tumblr spirit: we complain. However, to get results we must deploy the art of kvetching productively.

If you want the old dash back (or at least, a better new-dash design that corrects some of these big weaknesses) what you should do is head over to https://www.tumblr.com/support and lodge a feedback ticket pointing out the problems. The more users who do that, the more likely you are to see an effective response.

Remember, tagging @staff and @support in posts won't fix this. There's no guarantee they'll see it among the notes barrage.

Also: please don't be rude or abusive when you lodge tickets. Whoever is manning those blogs and inboxes probably isn't the person who forced through this change. Save an intern, be polite.

Go forth in disgruntlement to keep this hellhole a hellhome.

#tumblr #tumblr problems #new dashboard #yes it's bad #but there is a way #I've already lodged tickets about it

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a-bucket-of-trash · 1 year

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Kelvin “military analysis” - Sons of the Forest

First rant: Everyone talk about how sad is that Kelvin is not entering to a cave with us, but dude... there is a good reason. He is DEAF, right? So his main way to avoid dangers is by SIGHT. Hell, he point the damn mutants way easier than us.

How in hell he will do anything inside a cave if WE BARELY CAN SEE SHIT? Half of the times inside caves, we have to HEAR the mutants because is dark af. Now, if the main Kelvin’s sense is his eyes, he, in a cave, will be not only full useless but also dangerous for him and to us.

Kelvin inside a cave is like he being deaf AND blind. Go and play in a cave with mutants, deaf and blind, without weapons, and see how long you will last.

He stay outside because is the logic action. He is not enough braindead to enter in a cave.

But now, what matters: what kind of soldier is Kelvin?

Someone point that in the opening, Fisheye and us are looking the info in the pc as Kelvin is chilling listening to music.

My theory is: Squads tend to have different “specialities” with different skills, which come extremely handy in a situation like in the game.

Fisheye have part of his face covered. Usually, members of the Infantry would cover their faces to protect their identity in front of strangers. He is covered inside the helicopter can maybe be a hint of he being a “stranger” with any other member of the team (just like others members are covered too).

We don’t know if we are covered or not, but our skills on combat and weapons could be a hint that we are also Infantry. Plus, that both, as Infantry, be learning about the mission in the flight, at minutes to “deploy” is just a way to say “We are just muscles and guns, as soon we know how the subjects look, the rest don’t matter. We are here to shoot, kill and leave to our respective previous squads”. We are basic fight dogs.

Also, very high chances their (and our) names (Fisheye and Kelvin) are not real names, but codenames (Military call signs) based in the NATO phonetic alphabet (Each codename of each member start with a different letter to make it easier. F is Fisher, K is Kelvin, which it can be used in the trackers, so we can spot more easily the different members of the squad in the island).

Interesting fact, in some places, like the United Kingdom military, these letters also can tell what specialities they have. Fisheye use the F of Foxtrot/ Foxhound, this last one used to sign Infantry.

As also internet says about Kelvin: “His true name is speculated to be Robert, as he often appears in the game files as Rob or Robbie and in the game console as Robby.”

But our boy “Kelvin” is uncovered and chilling. That mean 2 basic things:

1 - Uncovered units are the ones who had to interact face to face with civilians. High chances he is one in charge of mediate with the Pufftons.

2 - He is not paying attention to the info in the pc, neither to the audible orders. The only reason to him to don’t pay attention is the fact that HE KNOWS the info. We are a militar squad rescuing a rich family, they will get the best of the best, so they will not get a lazy random Kelvin in the team. He is useful to the mision. He chills because he know the Pufftons already, knows the map (since he is not looking at it), and he knows the orders. Is not a civilian, or he wouldn’t have militar clothes, neither the previous info, neither will using the K Tag.

Now let’s add the fact that he doesn’t fight in the game, at all. He aims, run, hide, but don’t fight. But he do gather a lot, run fast, fish where is no fishes (lol) and find sticks in the nowhere.

Putting his highly possible brain injury a little aside (which not only made him temporarily deaf and mute, but also could reduce a lot his capabilities), we can now speculate that his specialty is not in combat, is not from the Infantry because he don’t fight (not even as a instinct, many soldiers keep their fight reflex even after years out the field).

His skills in gather and build, carring logs for hours, even with his brain damage, can be a hint that his basic training was as Quartermaster. Hear this definition: The Quartermaster Corps officer plans and directs the activities of Army units and organizations engaged in the acquisition, receipt, storage, preservation, and issue of equipment, repair parts, fortification/construction material, subsistence, petroleum products, water, and other general supplies.

And his “chilling instead watch the info” can be a hint that he is now from some branch related to Intelligence or Logistics.

So, my theory is: Robert ak Kelvin - Logistics Quartermaster Officer with a Degree in Brain Injury.

And I love him.

#kelvin #sons of the forest #sons of the forest kelvin #sotf #sotf kelvin #the forest #game theory

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swaps55 · 1 month

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Mezzo - 10 - Jagged Lines

Pairing: mshenko | Rating: M Tags: Canon-typical violence, trauma, dealing with your problems poorly, body autonomy struggles Summary: The twists and turns of ME2, through the eyes of everyone but Commander Shepard. Chapter Summary: Horizon. Thank you so much to @sinvraal for being an amazing beta!

Chapter 10: Jagged Lines | Read on Ao3

11 December 2185, Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, Normandy SR-2

Shepard comes out of his briefing with the Illusive Man a different person than when he went in. Cold, brusque, locked on a target only he can see, like a grenade without a pin. Jacob takes up position on the far side of the conference room table. As if that will somehow minimize the splash damage.

“Seems like we got something,” Jacob observes, as Miranda, Dr. Solus, Vakarian, Massani, and even Jack file in and take up places around the table, where a projection of a planet Jacob isn’t familiar with rotates slowly. Only the krogan is missing.

“Colony in the Traverse lost comms an hour ago.” Shepard speaks into the comm. “Joker, I need a course laid in to get us to the Iera System in Shadow Sea. Right now.”

Jack leans a hip against the table, twirling a mote of dark energy through her fingers, about as far from Miranda as Jacob is from Shepard. If squad cohesion is the goal, Shepard’s got some work to do.

“Uh, that’s a tall order, sir. Iera isn’t exactly next door.”

“I don’t give a shit, Joker. Get me there.”

“Yes, sir.”

“EDI, I need everything you have on the planet Horizon.”

“Downloading requested information to shore party datapads.”

Jacob flips on his own datapad and opens EDI’s freshly delivered file to do a quick skim. For several of the colony abductions, Freedom’s Progress included, comm failure had been the first sign of trouble. But by the time the silence had been noticed, attempts made to raise them, and scout ships deployed to investigate, they had been far too late to even see a collector, much less stop them.

The Illusive Man had set up monitoring programs for virtually every human colony in the Traverse. Seemed like a monumental amount of resources to spend on what amounted to looking for a needle in a haystack.

…Unless you actually find the needle.

“Long range scans from the Illusive Man don’t show anything in orbit,” Shepard goes on. “We’re going to do our damndest to get there before the collectors make their move.”

Pipe dream, Jacob thinks. He skims through the data. “Population’s over six hundred thousand. If this really is the collectors, it’s the largest colony they’ve hit yet. Could mean numbers.”

“We’ll adapt,” Shepard says flatly.

Miranda taps a nail against the conference room table. At the rate she speed reads, she’s probably already through most of the report. “It has to be the collectors. Human colony in the Traverse, independent from Alliance control. They’re a perfect target. This could be our chance to test the countermeasure and gather some intel on what they’re doing with these colonists.”

“And save more people from abduction,” Jacob prods.

“Of course.”

Solus paces back and forth from his spot beside Shepard, three paces each direction. “Countermeasure ready to be tested. However, if seeker swarm density exceeds test models—”

Shepard cuts him off with a scowl. “We’ll adapt.”

Jack folds her arms across her chest. She hasn’t touched her datapad. “What’ll they give us in a fight?”

“We know they have at least one ship capable of taking out a frigate without breaking a sweat,” Jacob replies. “As for the rest, guess we’re about to find out.”

Garrus swipes at the holo projection of Horizon on the conference table, the reticle of his visor flickering as he adjusts the HUD interface. A rendering of the main colony site map takes the place of the planet. He points a talon at something on the southeastern perimeter. It flashes red.

“Since when do independent human colonies have Alliance AA guns?”

Shepard’s iron gaze flicks away. “Since a few weeks ago, apparently.”

“Is Alliance on the ground?”

The gravity well does a somersault. Jacob’s eye twitches. Like nails on a chalkboard.

“Yes.”

Read from the beginning | Read the rest on Ao3 | The Mezzo Playlist

#mass effect #mshenko #kaidan alenko #otp: after all this time #mezzo update #i've known exactly how horizon goes for Sam and Kaidan for years #and now it's on the page #this is a big one for me folks #i really hope it's worth the wait

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lonestarflight · 4 months

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Cancelled Missions: Testing Shuttle Manipulator Arms During Earth-Orbital Apollo Missions (1971-1972)

In this drawing by NASA engineer Caldwell Johnson, twin human-like Space Shuttle robot arms with human-like hands deploy from the Apollo Command and Service Module (CSM) Scientific Instrument Module (SIM) Bay to grip the derelict Skylab space station.

"Caldwell Johnson, co-holder with Maxime Faget of the Mercury space capsule patent, was chief of the Spacecraft Design Division at the NASA Manned Spacecraft Center (MSC) in Houston, Texas, when he proposed that astronauts test prototype Space Shuttle manipulator arms and end effectors during Apollo Command and Service Module (CSM) missions in Earth orbit. In a February 1971 memorandum to Faget, NASA MSC's director of Engineering and Development, Johnson described the manipulator test mission as a worthwhile alternative to the Earth survey, space rescue, and joint U.S./Soviet CSM missions then under study.

At the time Johnson proposed the Shuttle manipulator arm test, three of the original 10 planned Apollo lunar landing missions had been cancelled, the second Skylab space station (Skylab B) appeared increasingly unlikely to reach orbit, and the Space Shuttle had not yet been formally approved. NASA managers foresaw that the Apollo and Skylab mission cancellations would leave them with surplus Apollo spacecraft and Saturn rockets after the last mission to Skylab A. They sought low-cost Earth-orbital missions that would put the surplus hardware to good use and fill the multi-year gap in U.S. piloted missions expected to occur in the mid-to-late 1970s.

Johnson envisioned Shuttle manipulators capable of bending and gripping much as do human arms and hands, thus enabling them to hold onto virtually anything. He suggested that a pair of prototype arms be mounted in a CSM Scientific Instrument Module (SIM) Bay, and that the CSM "pretend to be a Shuttle" during rendezvous operations with the derelict Skylab space station.

The CSM's three-man crew could, he told Faget, use the manipulators to grip and move Skylab. They might also use them to demonstrate a space rescue, capture an 'errant satellite,' or remove film from SIM Bay cameras and pass it to the astronauts through a special airlock installed in place of the docking unit in the CSM's nose.

Faget enthusiastically received Johnson's proposal (he penned 'Yes! This is great' on his copy of the February 1971 memo). The proposal generated less enthusiasm elsewhere, however.

Undaunted, Johnson proposed in May 1972 that Shuttle manipulator hardware replace Earth resources instruments that had been dropped for lack of funds from the planned U.S.-Soviet Apollo-Soyuz Test Project (ASTP) mission. President Richard Nixon had called on NASA to develop the Space Shuttle just four months before (January 1972). Johnson asked Faget for permission to perform 'a brief technical and programmatic feasibility study' of the concept, and Faget gave him permission to prepare a presentation for Aaron Cohen, manager of the newly created Space Shuttle Program Office at MSC.

In his June 1972 presentation to Cohen, Johnson declared that '[c]argo handling by manipulators is a key element of the Shuttle concept.' He noted that CSM-111, the spacecraft tagged for the ASTP mission, would have no SIM Bay in its drum-shaped Service Module (SM), and suggested that a single 28-foot-long Shuttle manipulator arm could be mounted near the Service Propulsion System (SPS) main engine in place of the lunar Apollo S-band high-gain antenna, which would not be required during Earth-orbital missions.

During ascent to orbit, the manipulator would ride folded beneath the CSM near the ASTP Docking Module (DM) within the streamlined Spacecraft Launch Adapter. During SPS burns, the astronauts would stabilize the manipulator so that acceleration would not damage it by commanding it to grip a handle installed on the SM near the base of the CSM's conical Command Module (CM).

Johnson had by this time mostly dropped the concept of an all-purpose human hand-like 'end effector' for the manipulator; he informed Cohen that the end effector design was 'undetermined.' The Shuttle manipulator demonstration would take place after CSM-111 had undocked from the Soviet Soyuz spacecraft and moved away to perform independent maneuvers and experiments.

The astronauts in the CSM would first use a TV camera mounted on the arm's wrist to inspect the CSM and DM, then would use the end effector to manipulate 'some device' on the DM. They would then command the end effector to grip a handle on the DM, undock the DM from the CSM, and use the manipulator to redock the DM to the CSM. Finally, they would undock the DM and repeatedly capture it with the manipulator.

Caldwell Johnson's depiction of a prototype Shuttle manipulator arm with a hand-like end effector. The manipulator grasps the Docking Module meant to link U.S. Apollo and Soviet Soyuz spacecraft in Earth orbit during the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project (ASTP) mission.

Johnson estimated that new hardware for the ASTP Shuttle manipulator demonstration would add 168 pounds (76.2 kilograms) to the CM and 553 pounds (250.8 kilograms) to the SM. He expected that concept studies and pre-design would be completed in January 1973. Detail design would commence in October 1972 and be completed by 1 July 1973, at which time CSM-111 would undergo modification for the manipulator demonstration.

Johnson envisioned that MSC would build two manipulators in house. The first, for testing and training, would be completed in January 1974. The flight unit would be completed in May 1974, tested and checked out by August 1974, and launched into orbit attached to CSM-111 in July 1975. Johnson optimistically placed the cost of the manipulator arm demonstration at just $25 million.

CSM-111, the last Apollo spacecraft to fly, reached Earth orbit on schedule on 15 July 1975. By then, Caldwell Johnson had retired from NASA. CSM-111 carried no manipulator arm; the tests Johnson had proposed had been judged to be unnecessary.

That same month, the U.S. space agency, short on funds, invited Canada to develop and build the Shuttle manipulator arm. The Remote Manipulator System — also called the Canadarm — first reached orbit on board the Space Shuttle Columbia during STS-2, the second flight of the Shuttle program, on 12 November 1981."

source

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quickhacked · 22 days

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// oc in 15.

tagged by; @devilbrakers, thank you so much!! tagging; @reaperkiller, @vvanessaives, @hibernationsuit, @katsigian, @adelaidedrubman, @dickytwister, @rindemption, @noirapocalypto and YOU!

rules: share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an oc, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the oc. bonus points for just using dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

decided to do this for vincent since he is the main character of my cyberpunk universe and it's been a hot sec since i talked about him! these bits are all from various fics including the broker which is a long fic that i'll never shut up about. sorry. i've included more than just the dialogue since a lot of vincent's manner of speech is also in his body language and internal monologue :^) his voice claim is basically masc v from in-game but with very distinct southern flair

from chapter 7 of the broker:

‘Here we are,’ Vincent repeated, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket and flinching lightly when he heard an explosion in the distance. ‘Just another fuckin’ day in Night City.’

from an unreleased fic i still need to finish and post:

‘The Deckhead?' Vincent asked. 'Fried to a crisp. Found ‘im hooked up to the Net high off his tits- he had an intruder alarm set up but it caused him to panic, ‘n he disconnected himself too soon. Lights went out before I could do anything.’

paraphrased from this fic, showing that vincent can and will talk to johnny out loud whenever he wants:

‘What the fuck,’ Vincent blurted out, voice shaky as he took another step back. […] Johnny raised a hand and gestured vaguely at Vincent, and himself, and the space between them. ‘You don’t have to speak out loud when you- I feel like I’ve said this before.’

from an unreleased fic:

‘Maelstrom wasn’t too happy I was running off with their toys,’ Vincent answered, eyes lingering on the bruise on Vitali’s face. ‘Had to flatline half of ‘em before I could get out.’

from chapter 11 of the broker:

‘Peachy,’ Vincent said and gave him a thumbs up. His mantis blade was still deployed and he nearly cut himself with it.

from chapter 16 of the broker:

‘Right.’ He stepped back, visibly biting the inside of his cheek as his eyes wandered off into the rest of the living room and he did a mocking salute in Vitali’s direction. ‘Yessir.’

from chapter 2 of the broker:

‘Pleased to make your acquaintance?’ Vincent said, the sentence more a question than a statement, and he frowned slightly as he watched Dupoint walk around the desk and sit down opposite of him while unbuttoning the jacket of his slightly too big suit.

from an unreleased fic:

‘Yep, that was me,’ Vincent said in response, his voice suddenly a couple of octaves higher. Smooth talkin’, you fucking airhead. You sound like a damn high schooler.

from this fic, talking to johnny out loud again:

‘Right, ‘cuz apologizing means everything is instantly forgiven and forgotten,’ Vincent snapped, accidentally startling an old lady he passed by; he quickly raised his hand to her as an apology and fastened his pace.

from an unreleased fic:

‘Born ‘n raised in the Glen, yeah,’ Vincent answered, flinching when he noticed the edge of someone’s umbrella get dangerously close to his face. ‘Won’t find the nicest people there but at least they generally know they’re not the only gonk on the fucking road.’

from this fic:

‘Headache that comes and goes-’ Vincent paused and glared at Johnny. ‘- but yeah, peachy. And you’re right. Worrying doesn’t help anyone.’

from chapter 2 of the broker:

‘V has had a lot of things on his mind, as of late,’ Vincent dryly said. ‘Please do enlighten me.’

from this fic, talking to johnny out loud again:

‘Alright, speaking rights fucking revoked,’ Vincent cut him off, visibly startling Vitali who had just slightly leaned in to Vincent’s touch. ‘Piss off, Johnny. Jesus.’

from chapter 15 of the broker:

Grant Armitage. Some seemingly random Arasaka exec with “his greasy little fingers stuck right up Yorinobu’s golden ass”, as Vincent had described him a few days prior.

from chapter 2 of the broker:

‘A fully opened center.’ Dupoint paused, raised an eyebrow, and glanced back at Vincent. ‘Do you know what that move is called, V?’ Vincent shrugged, and swallowed his laughter. ‘Dunno. The American Nutcracker?’

#tag games #ask:vincent #yes i keep mentioning that he talks to johnny out loud most of the time but it's important for his character i need you to understand #it's funny to watch him startle everyone around him by suddenly starting to speak to johnny out loud. boy you could pretend you're on a cal #also i didn't really know who to tag for this because i'm out of the loop with who writes etc etc so i just grabbed some regulars #but as always feel free to kill me with hammers for whatever reason honestly i won't take it personally

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candlefairybb · 1 year

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MERMAY DOODLE-

Sorry for lack of mermay content, i busy-

Aaaaanywaysss, Y/N, or rather, You are a part of an organization that cleans the ocean! I wanna do more info abt this, but I feel like that deserves it’s own post. (Also the urge to write a Fanfiction based on this specific AU is strong VERY STRONG)

It also seems that this organization has gotten the attention of some particular mer….and their main focus is on you.

More abt this au:

Basically everyone gets their own little paddle boats, which are kinda like big surf boards but they were definitely built to be more boat like. The little shade/roof thingy can be moved or altered, it’s basically a little sail, but considering the job, it’s used more as a shade provider. Everyone gets mesh bags to clip to their belts, and then you go below the surface and collect trash, putting it in the mesh bags. Two bags for trash, and one for things the diver could determine as valuable. You come back up to your little boat, deposit what’s in your bags to buckets, boxes or a larger tighter mesh bag. When your boat is full, you return to the organization’s main boat for your team. They haul up the trash you’ve collected then you can continue collecting. The organization gets paid for cleanup, so this is basically your job. They have multiple fleets around the shore, but your team is the smallest. A small crew runs the main ship, and you and some other members run the small paddle boat fleet, collecting trash. If an area is deemed clean, then the boat will move to a new location nearby (all of which is chartered on a grid map) All the little paddle boats get raised and the swimmers will return to the main boat.

Everyday when the boat releases from the dock in the morning, a couple of swimmers will lower their paddle boats and explore through their commute or places they have cleaned already to check for anything new. If an area seems recently or majorly littered then the rest of the swimmers will deploy to help clean. If everything is all good the boat will continue to an uncleaned sanction of their map.

Your specific team isn’t just small, but it’s rather isolated from the rest of the organization. Considering every team is made up of the town they were assigned to, it makes sense your team would be small and isolated. A small coastal town is where your team is located, far from the rest of the teams. Which means a lot more attention from merfolk gets put on your team than on other teams in the organization.

It also means y’all get paid a lot to clean up after town events or major celebrations that are held near the shore, on docks, or out on boats. You can afford to live comfortably while doing something you love.

Anywaysssss- yeah I really want to write a fanfiction for this but like idk if anyone is gonna read that-

Anyways lots of tags

UPDATE

tis’ official 😌

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vodika-vibes · 5 months

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So..... ima slip in here and see if i could be honored by your grace and ask for a Prudii holding his newborn child.

If not thats totally fine,

Much love,

maybethatfanfictionwriter

First Meeting

Summary: Prudii has been deployed for the last six months, and now that he's home, it's time for him to meet his daughter.

Pairing: Prudii Skirata x Reader

Word Count: 885

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I know nothing about pregnancy and childbirth as I have no children, and I can't have kids. But I enjoyed writing this all the same. I hope I did Prudii justice, his page was not helpful.

Divider by Saradika

It’s been six months since your love has been home. Six long, long months.

And while you always hate it when he’s gone, you much prefer it when he’s around. You miss his arms around you, and the way he says your name, and the way he looks at you when it’s just the two of you.

But, honestly, these last six months have been harder than any other deployment.

For one very small reason.

When Prudii left, six months ago, you were four months pregnant.

The hope had been that he would be back before you gave birth, but, well, babies work on their own schedules. And two months ago, you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. A little girl who looked like her daddy, right down to the skin color, hair color, and eye color. You named her Eli.

Unfortunately, you’ve been unable to reach Prudii to even send him pictures of his baby. Or tell him her name.

You smile down at the infant, you put her bassinet in your room, to save you the hassle of walking through your home to get to her when she cries, and, well, you just like having her close.

Baby Eli grabs your finger in her little hands and you coo at her, “Your daddy’s going to love you so much. You don’t even know yet.” Eli babbles something at you, and your smile widens, “That’s right, Eli. He loves you and hasn’t even met you yet.”

She babbles again and you effortlessly scoop her into your arms and set her in the sling you’re wearing, “But, now it’s time to do chores, Eli.”

She babbles something, and you grin at her, “I agree completely, chores are the worst.” You make sure she’s settled comfortably in the sling, and then you head into the main part of your apartment.

You were feeling lazy last night and didn’t bother to do any of the dishes, plus there’s dirt on the floor from your tooka. So you set about cleaning the house, humming a lullaby as you do so.

It’s about an hour later when you hear your front door slide open. Surprised, because you aren’t expecting company, you step out of the kitchen and into the living room, and a delighted gasp leaves you, “Prudii!”

He looks at you, a warm smile crossing his handsome features, “Cyar’ika. I’m home.” And then his dark eyes falls to the sling around your torso, and your stomach, and his smile fades, “I missed the birth, didn’t I?”

“She came two months early,” You reply gently, “I would have sent a picture, but I couldn’t get ahold of you.”

“I’m sorry. I should have been here-”

You’re already shaking your head, “It’s not like you chose to get deployed. You favor him with a loving smile, “Take your armor off and I’ll introduce you.”

Prudii strips his armor off in record time, and you laugh softly, as you gently lift Eli from the sling, “She’s so small…” He murmurs, “Is she healthy?”

“Perfectly healthy, just small.” You cradle Eli in your arms, “She looks like you, which is probably a good thing.” You add with a laugh.

Prudii steps closer and lightly brushes his finger down her cheek, “Really? I think she looks like you.” He pauses, “What did you name her?”

“Eli. Eli Skirata.” You reply.

“You gave her my name?” He asks, surprised, “We’re not married.”

“Semantics,” You reply with a shrug, “Do you want to hold her?”

“Can I?”

You smile at him brightly, “You’re her buir. Of course you can.” You pass her over to him, and watch with a warm smile as he cradles her close.

“She’s so calm.” Prudii says quietly, “She takes after you, then.”

“I’m glad for it,” You sit on the couch, taking a moment to move a basket of baby clothes, “That first month would have sucked even more if she wasn’t so calm.”

There’s a flicker of guilt on his face, “How was the pregnancy…and the birth? Everything went well?” He sits on the couch next to you, once there’s a space.

“Well enough, there were a few hiccups, but my doctor was very careful with me.” You explain. You watch him for a moment, and your smile grows, “Are you good, love?”

“I love her.” Prudii replies, “I love you. Thank you for this. For her. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there to support you.” He looks at you properly and smiles at you lovingly, “I’ll be there next time.”

“Next time, huh.”

“Next time.” He agrees, “I’ll be there for the whole thing.”

“Maybe we should wait until she’s a little older before we start discussing giving her a baby sibling.” You tease, and then you lean on his shoulder and kiss his cheek, “I’m sorry you weren’t able to be there either. I know you were looking forward to it.”

He turns his head and catches your lips with his own, “It’s not your fault. You had to work at the speed of Eli, after all.” Prudii grins, “I need a picture of her, to send to my brothers.”

“While you do that, I’ll make you something to eat.” You stand and press a light kiss to the top of his head, “Welcome home, love.”

#star wars #tcw #prudii skirata x reader #prudii x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #answered asks

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taskforcedistortion · 7 months

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This is the official Taskforce Distortion account. Before anything, we will answer some questions for you.

//FINISHED ARCS: #Mew out of the bag. Please heed the content warnings about this arc before continuing.

What is Taskforce Distortion? Taskforce Distortion is a group focused on the protection of the Multiverse. It is ran under multiple divisions; the Rocket Division, the Aqua Division, the Magma Division, the Galactic Division, the Plasma Division, the Skull Division and the (new) Star Division. Our leader keeps their identity hidden for the safety of all involved, however we all run under guidelines set by them.

What is the purpose of each division? The Rocket Division monitors the activity of "Teams" both active and not. This division having access to top of the line security and surveillance systems to monitor such activity. Any unusual activity will be reported to the leader and a plan of dispatch will be acted upon with swiftness. The Aqua and Magma Division share responsibilities of monitoring irregular seismic activity in the current universe's planet, as to not let a catastrophic event similar to that of the Hoenn incident ever happen again. A smaller responsibility is to also monitor the health of the oceans and land to try and fight back pollution and habitat damage. The Galactic Division monitors the Distortion world, keeping an eye on the activity of the Giratina to make sure they do not cause havoc to any universes that reside in said plane of existence. The Plasma Division monitors known pokemon breeders and professional trainers to prevent illegal activity, be it pokemon abuse or inhumane training methods that don't necessarily fall under the league or law's definition of abuse. The Skull Division is our eyes on the ground, sent out to monitor areas of interest along with the Rocket Division. And finally the Star Division, which isn't a full division, as there is only one member, however it is one of the most important additions as it's lead member is a prodigy hacker, allowing us much farther reach than before.

//Active Ask Games

//Cards and other Division Leader/Agent info

//Please note! And before you ping the account!

//Taskforce Distortion Discord!

//Other info under the cut!

//Putting this at the top here so it's seen- Please do not call them cops- that's not the interpretation I want for them because it makes me very uncomfortable.

//Ooc. This is a sideblog! Unreality. Mod is an adult and goes by she/her he/him pronouns. All art I use is my own! I follow from @theshadowqueenofthedistortion, more info about me on my main! Here's some of my other accounts as well!

//Semi-Serious blog, I will participate in active silliness and also write serious stuff. Will sometimes touch on death, abuse and a few other things, I will tag the serious stuff with their appropriate tw/cw tags.

//Lightweight magic anons on for this account. Pelipper mail is definitely on! This isn't a villain account, but feel free to treat it as such IC! I would like the drama~ //As an addition, anon hate IC is allowed, however, note that I will curate it, and if it is really harsh and you don't specify it as IC, I might delete for my own comfort.

//No Shipping, a lot of the stuff in here is closed off.

//I am very open to crossover stuff!

//Pokemon in this universe have human levels of sentience, though multiverses that don't are well known and won't be questioned.

//Real life animals exist along side Pokemon in her universe, like divergent evolution (not the pokemon thing, the science thing)

//Anon hate is encouraged as I wanna have my portrayals of these guys respond to that stuff =D please say who it's for though, other wise I'll just guess.

//What the tags mean.

//Shadow Mod Speaks: Mod speaking.

//Mod Reference: Me and/or Zorana making references for this account

//Shadow Art: Art by me that isn't a ref/finished.

Taskforce Deployed: Closed and/or serious RP. I will also use this tag when responding seriously to something.

TaskForce Announcement: A announcement of a situation that the taskforce are involved in! If you would like the Taskforce to look over a situation, feel free to send an ask! (If you aren't the person running the event however, I will need permission from the person who is running it ^^;)

//Response tags have been moved to the Agent and Leader master post

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usafphantom2 · 2 months

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Without the CMV-22, the U.S. Navy needs 15 former C-2A to carry out missions aboard the aircraft carriers

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 02/20/2024 - 20:58in Military

The uncertainty of the return of the tiltrotor V-22 to full operation is leading the U.S. Navy to rethink its plans on how to refuel its aircraft carrier fleet in the short term, with more uncertainty in the long term, and the remaining C-2A Greyhounds become essential.

The service had initially planned to retire its remaining 15 C-2A Greyhound onboard delivery (COD) aircraft in the next two years and replace them with a total of 38 CMV-22B Ospreys, which DOT&E reported "not to be operationally adequate".

“For the luck of the Navy, the C-2 Greyhound is still available,” said Vice Admiral Air Boss Daniel Cheever at a panel at the WEST 2024 conference, co-organized by the U.S. Naval Institute and the AFCEA. "Limited operational impacts at this time, but there are still operational impacts. And when you look to the future, there are significant operational impacts."

As part of the Greyhounds' planned retirement, the U.S. Navy stopped training new C-2 pilots and began to reduce spare parts and logistical support for the 60-year project.

This transition, completed on the West Coast, is now paralyzed with the grounding of the V-22 in the U.S. Marines, Navy and Air Force after the fall of a USAF Special Operations MV-22 off the coast of Japan late last year.

The grounding of the Ospreys has already been out of operation for 75 days, with no indication of how long the grounding can continue.

CMV-22B Osprey.

The suspension of operation of the tiltrotors forced the U.S. Navy to exchange the V-22 aboard the West Coast aircraft carriers USS Carl Vinson (CVN-70) and USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71) for the C-2As of the East Coast Fleet Logistics Support Squadron (VRC) 40, the "Rawhides".

"The VRC-40 is currently emerging to fulfill the mission [COD] for aircraft carriers deployed in the 5ª and 7ª U.S. Fleets," says a statement from the Naval Air Forces. "There was no change in the planned retirement of C-2A for 2026."

Although there is still no change in the plan for the C-2, there is little indication of any of the forces for how long the V-22 will be able to remain out of service. After the initial grounding of the fleet, there was very limited information about the underlying cause of the grounding, in addition to a "potential material failure".

For the Marines, the situation is more terrible, said Lieutenant Karsten Heckl during the panel. He said that the operations of the 31ª Marine Expeditionary Unit based in Japan, the 26º MEU deployed in the Bataan Amphibious Ready Group and the 15º MEU that is preparing to be deployed aboard the Boxer ARG had "dramatic impacts".

Navy officers said that Marines are allowed to use Ospreys deployed aboard the Bataan ARG in specific emergency situations. A main mission of the 26º MEU, currently deployed in the Eastern Mediterranean, is the evacuation of non-combatants from Lebanon.

Last month, the Assistant Commander of the Marine Corps, General Chris Mahoney, said that the Force risks losing proficiency with the aircraft the longer it stays on the ground.

"At some point, if a pilot does not fly, if a maintainer does not turn a wrench, if an observer or crew chief is not exercising his profession, this will become a matter of competence and then there will be a matter of safety," he said.

Tags: Military AviationCMV-22B OspreyGrumman C-2 GreyhoundUSN - United States Navy/U.S. Navy

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Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. He uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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20/02/2024 - 18:08

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Leonardo tests new technologies for sustainable flight on C-27J aircraft

20/02/2024 - 15:30

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Manufacture of 120 KF-21 Boramae jets for the South Korean Air Force will begin this year

20/02/2024 - 13:30

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Air exercise "Spears of Victory" allowed Pakistan to evaluate JF-17 capabilities against Rafale

20/02/2024 - 09:30

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Argentine Air Force receives second Embraer ERJ-140LR aircraft to expand its capabilities

20/02/2024 - 08:35

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Ukraine claims to have shot down three more Russian jets, totaling six in three days

19/02/2024 - 22:07

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gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot · 8 months

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Paulatim sed Firmiter (Slowly but surely) - Saturday early morning

This chapter is an agony, God... I'll divide it in scenes because I just can't with my life right now

Tags for the people that asked: @glitterypirateduck @jamesrifftapes @letsreadallday

Previous / Masterlist / Next

Saturday

Early morning

The air was chilly in the early hours of that day of late May, with its timid sunrays appearing over the horizon. Captain Price was standing on the tarmac by one of the hangars, observing while the small plane that carried one of his kids home slowly halted to a stop after landing.

Rain or snow, early or late, he was always there to welcome them back unless they were deployed to separate places.

It still took a while for the stairs to be attached to the plane and for the door to open, but when Ghost’s massive frame appear on the treshold, Price smiled and raised his hand, holding a cup of coffee. He wasn’t quite sure, but he could swear he saw Ghost’s free hand lift slightly.

Price stayed put while his Lieutenant walked to him, duffle bag over his massive shoulder. Ghost walked with the same purposeful stride as always, but for someone who had known him for so long as Price had, he knew he was tired. Or fed up. Or both.

‘‘Welcome back’’ He waited until the younger man left the bag on the ground and then offered him the cup. Ghost grabbed it, thankful, pulling his balaclava up until it hooked over his nose.

‘‘Thanks’’ His lips pursed after downing the content. ‘‘For fuck’s sake, Price, it’s ice cold’’

‘‘I’ve been waiting here for an hour, what did you expect?’’

‘‘You know you don’t have to do this’’

‘‘Don’t be stupid, Simon’’ Price clasped a hand over Ghost’s shoulder and pulled him down for a quick hug, patting his back a couple of times. He smiled fondly when he felt Ghost returning the gesture, even tightening the embrace for a second before they both stepped back. ‘‘How was everything?’’

‘‘Dirty and boring. As always’’ Ghost accepted the cigarette that Price just lit for him and took a long drag of it, exhaling the smoke afterwards through his nose. ‘‘And here?’’

‘‘Helluva week’’ Price snorted, observing while Ghost grabbed the duffel bag to sling it over his shoulder again, and both started walking towards the barracks. ‘‘On Monday, Robinson leered at the recruits and Vega told him to fuck off, quite loudly, in public. Don’t fucking smile, I can see you’’

‘‘Sorry’’ Ghost tried to hide his chuckle by taking another drag of the cigarette. That’s my girl.

‘‘We’ve also had a private in the infirmary the whole week because they were beaten by some idiots from the AAC…’’

‘‘Why?’’ Ghost frowned under his mask.

‘‘For what I understand, they disagreed with their identity choices’’

‘‘I’ll handle it’’

‘‘Oh, no, please no’’ Price rolled his eyes, to Ghost’s surprise. ‘‘Let me continue. On Tuesday, a group of privates, all girls, ambushed me in my office to petition for a self defence group… Yeah, exactly, don’t give me that look’’

‘‘The same ones again?’’

‘‘They didn’t tell me then, but I guess so. And they asked for Vega to teach them’’ The Captain looked up at Ghost, suspicious. ‘‘And for some reason you’re not surprised’’

‘‘She beat another officer in Gibraltar’’ Ghost shrugged, exhaling smoke slowly as they walked. ‘‘Makes sense they would trust another woman’’

‘‘Why do you know that when I didn’t?’’

‘‘She told me’’ Was his simple answer, shrugging again. Price rolled his eyes. Oblivious fools.

‘‘She told you… Ok, so, on Wednesday, during the first class, she along with Soap and Gaz used three Sergeants from the AAC as practice dummies… Simon’’ For fuck’s sake, he was snorting. Snorting. For the love of…

‘‘Sorry. Go on’’ He tried to hide his chuckle by pulling down his balaclava, seeing Price huff in annoyance, but he knew him well enough to know he was trying not to laugh himself.

‘‘On Thursday, Robinson’s car caught fire in the parking lot. Nobody knows why or how.’’ Price opened the door of the main building to allow Ghost to enter and then followed him inside to the stairs. ‘‘He’s also been finding the lock of his office’s door full of glue every single day, so the locksmith is fed up with him, and the cleaners have refused to enter his office because there’s a foul smell… You’re doing it again’’

Ghost’s enormous shoulders were shaking lightly. Price rolled his eyes and continued.

‘‘And yesterday they had the absolutely marvelous idea of going to the village pub, those three… disasters, with the privates. Bonding experience, they said’’ The Captain’s hard blue eyes glared at Ghost when a pfft sound came from beneath the balaclava. ‘‘What could have gone wrong, right?’’

‘‘What, indeed’’ Ghost opened the door to Price’s office and left the duffel bag on the floor before taking a seat, with the Captain moving around the desk to do the same. ‘‘Let me guess, the idiots from the Army Air Corps were there and there was a disagreement’’

‘‘You could say that’’ Price leaned back in his chair and put two glasses on the table, then opened the bottle of whiskey he kept in one of his drawers to serve Ghost a drink, and another for himself. It was early, but to hell with it. ‘‘Were you able to sleep in the plane?’’

‘‘… yes’’ Ghost pulled his balaclava up to his nose again and grabbed the glass. ‘‘Why?’’

‘‘Any new holes I should know about?’’

‘‘No’’ Ghost shook his head before drinking the whiskey.

‘‘Stab wound?’’ Price’s eyebrows were almost by his airline, doubting if he should believe him or not.

‘‘No?’’ Now Ghost was intrigued. Price’s eyes narrowed.

‘‘Scratch?... Stubbed your toe somewhere?’’

‘‘What the fuck, Price?’’ Ghost huffed, glaring at him, with the empty glass in his enormous gloved hand.

‘‘Are you telling me that you’ve taken care of yourself for once?’’ Price served more whiskey in their glasses, smirking. ‘‘I might mark this day on my calendar’’

Ghost just glowered, waiting for his glass to have another couple of fingers of whiskey before bringing it up to his lips again, shaking his head.

‘‘Did you wake up this jolly by yourself or are you trying to ask me to do something?’’

‘‘In fact… yes’’ Price leaned back in his chair, glass of whiskey in hand. ‘‘I need you to go pick Sergeant MacTavish and Sergeant Vega up’’

Ghost’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he leaned forward in the chair. For some reason, Price looked like he was both enjoying and irritated by the situation, whatever it was.

‘‘Pick them up from where?’’

‘‘Jail’’

Silence

‘‘Say that again’’

‘‘I need you to go pick Sergeant MacTavish and Sergeant Vega from jail’’ Price repeated, feigning a calm that he did not feel, specially when he saw the corners of Simon’s lips start to twitch. ‘‘Both of them and two Army Air Corps Sergeants were taken to jail last night after a pub brawl’’

‘‘Jail’’ Ghost breathed out, leaving the empty glass on the desk, and crossed his arms, observing his Captain. ‘‘I’ve been absent less than a week’’

‘‘Yes’’

‘‘And in that amount of time, a vehicle caught fire, there were several beatings, a Lieutenant’s office was sabotaged in different ways…’’

‘‘Oh, right, I forgot’’ Price shook his head, arms crossed as well, trying hard to contain the corners of his lips from curving upwards. ‘‘That same Lieutenant found himself with his ass on the floor, someone had unscrewed his chair’’

‘‘… sabotaged. And to end the week in a good note, there was a pub brawl, and two of our own are in jail because of it’’

‘‘Affirmative’’

‘‘All in a weeks’ work’’

‘‘If we’re going to get technical, in five days’ work’’ Price shrugged, and then glared at Ghost. ‘‘Don’t you fucking dare’’

Simon’s shoulders shook lightly, trying hard not to chuckle louder than intended. The Captain kept glaring at him, trying not to start chuckling as well.

‘‘Simon, don’t fucking laugh, it’s not funny’’ Price almost snorted, looking fondly at the man sitting before him, who had one of his hands covering his lower face, still exposed. It had been a lot of time since he had seen Simon laugh.

‘‘Can I shower first before going to pick the inmates up?’’ Ghost couldn’t help but snort at Price’s face.

‘‘If it were me, I’d leave them there until Monday, but Heather wants all of you tomorrow for dinner at home’’ The Captain grunted, storing the bottle back in the drawer. ‘‘If she finds out I won’t hear the end of it’’

Ghost stood up slowly, grunting when his knees creaked a bit, and rolled his shoulders before grabbing his duffle bag again to sling it over his shoulder.

‘‘Is there something else I should take care of? Gaz stuck in a tree or something?’’

‘‘He was at the pub too, along with Mactavish’s girlfriend, and brought her back when the scuffle started’’ Price rolled his eyes, arms crossed. ‘‘Allegedly, he wasn’t involved and he doesn’t have a single bruise. And I don’t buy it. He looked too smug today at breakfast’’

‘‘You’re aware that he’s just as much of a shit stirrer as Soap, aren’t you?’’

‘‘At least he’s more discreet’’ Price mumbled for himself, writing down something on a post-it note and then handing it to Ghost. ‘‘The address of the police station’’

‘‘I know where it is’’

‘‘And I don’t want to know why, thank you’’ Price observed the younger man while he walked to the door, and before he opened it, called him. ‘‘Simon’’

‘‘Yeah?’’ Ghost looked back, his balaclava in place again.

‘‘Is there something I should know?’’

There were a couple of heartbeats before Ghost answered, his husky voice as deadpan as always.

‘‘About what?’’

‘‘You know what I’m talking about’’ Price shrugged slightly, crossing his arms again. ‘‘I wouldn’t object’’

Simon just stared at him, for what it seemed minutes but most likely were just another couple of heartbeats.

‘‘No’’ He answered, curtly, and then opened the door to leave, ending the conversation. Price shook his head, he should have expected that.

‘‘No, what? No, that there’s nothing I should know? No, that you don’t know what I’m talking about? Simon! For fuck’s sake…’’

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tomorrowusa · 8 months

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Ukraine gets Russia to waste time and ammunition by creating convincing and relatively inexpensive decoys.

They are created with one single aim in mind: to be destroyed as quickly as possible. And in that, the steelworks company behind them boasts, these decoy weapons are remarkably successful: hundreds have been targeted by Russian forces almost as soon as they were deployed. Ukrainian D-20 gun-howitzers, American-made M777 howitzers, mortar tubes, air defense radars… the list goes on. If it is deployed and operational in Ukraine, chances are that Metinvest has either copied it, or is in the process of doing so, inside the small hangar that sits, tucked away, on the edge of a vast industrial site in central Ukraine. There you will find an impressive array of replicas of the latest American and European killing technology. [ ... ] The aim, says the spokesman, is twofold: to save Ukrainian lives and to trick Russians into squandering their own, very expensive, kamikaze drones, shells and missiles. The idea is that, from the sky, the decoys should look worthy of attack, without spending too much. And that has meant striking a balance in the choice of materials, complementing cheap plywood – which doesn’t give off the right heat signature to trick Russian heat-seeking radars and drones – with enough metal that they should be fooled. “War is expensive and we need the Russians to spend money using drones and missiles to destroy our decoys”, explains Metinvest’s spokesman. “After all, drones and missiles are expensive. Our models are much, much cheaper.”

Decoys are certainly not new to warfare but Ukraine has learned to do them better. And there is constant dialogue about improvements and refinements between the battle zones and Metinvest – the company which produces the decoys.

The real test now – the measure of each decoy’s success – is how long they stay in the field. If one design survives too long, the company’s decoy designers go back to the drawing board. As a result, the company’s catalogue of fake weaponry is getting impressively long and varied. “We do not count the number of decoys produced, but the number of those destroyed, and this is the main thing for us,” says the spokesman. “The sooner our decoys are destroyed, the better for us”.

Measuring success by how many of your products get destroyed is an unusual way to view business.

#invasion of ukraine #decoys #fake weaponry #metinvest #ukrainian ingenuity #fooling russia #приманки #метінвест #обман российских войск #владимир путин #путин хуйло #это ВОЙНА а не 'спецоперация'#руки прочь от украины!#геть з україни #вторгнення оркостану в україну #україна переможе #слава україні!#героям слава!

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stars-in-a-jam-jar · 5 months

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You ever think about how fucked up it is that children in military families are surrounded by messages that their parents and other close relatives are Heroes who are In Danger Protecting Them whenever they leave home? Like. I only have the experience of it you get from living in Texas where it also kinda fuses and intersects with and reinforces the evangelism in a lot of ways, but I can't imagine pro-military tactics are much different in other places. If service isn't compulsory, the main way you draw people in is with the promise of being Cool Noble Heroes Protecting The Country when in reality their lives and bodies and personal goals are just being exploited for the aims of whoever happens to be in charge of this grander landmass.

And while I've seen people talk about how that whole paradigm is Bad For Global Society (because it is) and preys on the poor and otherwise disenfranchised/marginalized (because it does) I don't think I've seen anyone directly point out how it will fuck a kid up to be told 'Your parent/older sibling/otherwise close one is a big cool tough hero who goes into dangerous situations willing to sacrifice anything, specifically their own life, to keep you and the countless strangers in the nation Safe.' over and over and over again in countless insidious ways.

Like, imagine you are 5 years old and it's normal to you for your Mom not to be home, because she's been on and off deployed or multiple towns over on drill or doing other vaguely defined military shit on-base since before you were born. The main outfit you can imagine her in is camouflage, with your last name and various other incomprehensible words and symbols velcroed in various places on it. You like her shiny silver necklace with the square charms that go clink-clink, and you ask someone older than you if you can have one, and you're told 'Oh, no, you get that when you're a soldier.' 'But why can't I have one now?' and they now have the choice to either leave you frustrated that you are being left out of the loop on your mom's necklace, or they tell you 'Those are dog tags. They're used to identify a soldier in case they die. You don't need them.' If they're detailed, they add, 'You can't always identify a body depending on the way they die.' And as years go on people mince words less and less and you're taught sometime in middle or high school that dog tags as a practice started during the civil war amongst soldiers when they realized they didn't know who to send some of the corpses home to.

Imagine you're 7, and at school you're given one of those 'What job does your parent have?' worksheets that are meant to teach kids how to write comprehensible statements. Your Mom is a mechanic, and you know a lot of what the things in her toolbox are for. You feel very smart for being able to identify different models of car and knowing that cars don't just have engines, but batteries and cooling systems. Your Dad hasn't been home more than a week for the past two months. All you know is what the TV and other military kids say about what being in the army is like. You write down what you've heard. Your dad has a very important job. He protects everybody from danger and knows how to use a gun. He 'puts his life on the line'. A phrase you have heard so many times, it has ceased to mean anything. If it ever really meant anything to you when you first heard it. Whenever that was.

Imagine you're 11, and your older sibling gets home from their first deployment. They're a little jet lagged, and they almost don't recognize you because you grew out your hair some while they were gone and grew out of half your clothes. They give you a big hug and your parents say welcome home and you completely forget how just last month you were playing out in your head a situation where you got a call saying they weren't coming home and strategizing your whole life for a night around them not being there, because for all you know, that could happen anytime. Any day. Whenever they are not in your sight, they could be in danger. But of course you don't need to worry. They're home now, they'll be in danger again later, and right now, they brought you souvenirs for your birthday they missed.

And they do it for you. They do it because they're heroes. They do it because they're brave and the best and amazing. They do it because everybody needs them. Everybody, not just you. Your family doesn't belong to you, your family belongs to the country. The first people who you ever had the chance to be important to, who ever had the chance to be important to you, could disappear from your life and you wouldn't know it until the call came through from wherever they'd been disappeared off to.

Like, maybe it's bad to tell children that's Good Actually.

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dogmomwrites · 2 years

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Writeblr Intro!

Hi there, hello! I'm Yav!

I'm updating my intro because I somehow forgot that I never gave any actual descriptions for my WIPs the first time around—they've just been vague acknowledgements of the WIPs existing more than anything.

Some about me

—I will read just about anything —I prefer to write fantasy, although I've written in a variety of genres —All of my writing is in third person omniscient (I really cannot have just one main character to write for) —I love animals, particularly canines and felines —I love music, particularly progressive metal —I am tag game friendly, ask game friendly, and open to DMs —I don't have WIP taglists; I can make them if anyone wants though

WIPs under the cut

Some of my WIPs

Castle in the Ice— The first of a fantasy series; this one opens up with Aero finding himself in a freezing field of snow and ice after a run-in with a sorceress. While trying to escape from a massive wolf, he stumbles into a castle buried under the ice and, as one does, immediately begins snooping around exploring this strange new place. To his surprise, he discovers the inhabitants of the castle are very much alive, although they might not be for much longer—more of the oversized wolves begin attacking the castle, and a team is sent out to figure out why.

current word count: 122,032 (completed, edited twice years ago, and about to be edited again)

Unnamed WIP— The first of a series; returning home from being deployed for almost a year, Second Lieutenant Riley Jacques is looking forward to the relaxation of civilian life, even if it’s only temporary. Unfortunately for him, his brother Jimmy has a knack for making things interesting. During the time Riley’s getting dragged into shenanigans, Sergeant Aaron Johnson is sent on a mission that threatens to shatter his mind, his spirit, and his reality.

current word count: 77,055 (completed but not edited yet)

Golden D— After professional wrestler James Golden turns on his tag team partner, “Double D” Drew Dunne, both men seem content to ignore each other and focus on their solo careers, but that may change when they each receive an invitation to the house of the mysterious Ragnar.

current word count: 32,196 (completed and will not be edited)

Alara at War— A man stumbles out of the woods, wearing leather armor and bleeding from an arrow wound in his stomach. When Aelin goes to help him, she unknowingly sets in motion a series of events that will determine the fate of an entire world.

current word count: 34,497 (not completed)

What Lies in the Shadows— Patrick’s wife believes he has a normal job. But he doesn’t work in an office, he works in the shadows, protecting humans from the things that go bump in the night.

current word count: 26,964 (not completed)

#writer intro #writeblr intro #writeblr #writer #writers #writing #writer things #writers on tumblr #writerslife #writerscommunity #creative writing #original fiction #original characters #writerblr #writerblr intro #writblr #writblr intro #wip intro

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ghostlythunderbird · 1 year

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“Inside the Mind of an Active Duty Airman” #1

This little series will be compiled to things ranging from asks/questions to things to help out writers who don’t know much about the American Military or Military life as a whole.

Objective #1: Dog Tags

To start things off one thing I’ve seen most writers use in their stories pertains to dog tags. For those who don’t know much about these stylish military issued necklaces, They are often used to identify military personnel. Many things are on these dog tags such as Name, DoD ID numbers, Blood types, and religion of preference to name a few. These necklaces have two identical tags and one is used around the neck area and the other (often hanging off a small chain) is used around a military member's toes to help with identification if that person is deceased. These tags are NOT meant to be mismatched or swapped with anyone else, they bear an important role should a member go down or need important medical care such as receiving blood.

Dog tags are also not often carried by personnel who are at their home station(where they spend their time while not being deployed). Dog tags are only given out should someone become deployed or TDY (Temporary Duty Station) to another country or region where something could happen to personnel. And for most personnel they are often only given a single pair of dog tags but this number can often go up should their job requirements need it or are needed for their AFSC (Their job in the military). For writers who may be discouraged by this information don’t be! While it’s discouraged to share your dog tags that doesn’t mean you cannot get a new pair made outside the military, and ones that don’t have sensitive information on them. There are many people who make custom dog tags and events such as air shows that do it as well so it's possible to have a pair of dog tags for your stories!

Objective #2: Special Forces and Female based Characters

Now this is just something I’ve seen that’s commonly used in most writing and this is not to hate on anyone and their writing but something that I would like to share. The American military as a whole is one of the few top militaries in the world, it has some of the best equipment and most effectively trained personnel. But for those who want to go above and beyond just regular military standards there are Special forces options depending on what branch you're serving in.

Did you know there are different special forces that range in different specialties? While I won't dive into the specifics I'll just simply name a few from the 4 larger branches of the United States Military.

U.S. Army: The Green Berets, the Night Stalkers, and the Rangers.

U.S. Navy: Navy SEALS, and Navy SWCC (Special Combatant Craft crews)

U.S. Marine Corps: Marine MARSOC (Marine Corps Special Operations Command), and Marine RECON

U.S. Air Force: Special Tactics Teams (Pararescue, Combat Controllers, and Special Reconnaissance)

These special operations are the most rigorous of the branches, their training has often been known to break individuals down both mentally and physically. They are also known to have some of the roughest training in the world. My biggest concern is having female readers as part of these special forces simply because it isn’t realistic. Females are often rejected from these special occupations simply because the female body was not made to sustain the harsh treatment, even some of the most physically fit males often fail out of the training portion. There are also security concerns as female soldiers would be often used to persuade their male counterparts in POW (Prisoners of War) situations on top of many things that could be used as torture or trying to break down a persons ability to avoid enemy interrogation. While I’m fine with some writers having a G.I. Jane main character (you go queen!) There are harsh realities to being associated with a special operations unit.

Objective #3: Jobs in the Military

Are you stuck trying to decide on how to write a new reader or stuck trying to create an OC? Most fanfics for the CoD universe are primarily Special Forces!Reader, Medic!Reader, and Civilian!Reader. But did you know there are so many other jobs out in the military? In the United States Armed forces you're required to take the ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery) to see where you stand in different fields like Vocabulary, Mechanical, Electrical, and General topics to help determine your career field in your selected branch. The higher your individual scores are the more jobs you are eligible for those fields, there are also some jobs that require two attributes above a certain score.

For those here to look for other career options for your fanfics there are many to choose from. If your reader is more of a bookworm or even a technology nerd you can place them in Intelligence based jobs (Data Analyst, Cyber network defender, Counterintelligence Agents). Got one that is really good with their hands? Have them as more Civil Engineers (EOD, Firefighter, CBRN personnel). How about someone who is good at PR or Law there’s plenty of jobs to choose from that can often deal with both home station and deployed situations. The military has a wide variety of jobs for all levels of the military and all levels of personnel in all branches.

Objective #4: Ranks of the Military

This one is one of my least concerns of all simply because many branches have their own structure and own special ranks, and this will all be from the United States perspective as I cannot say anything about foreign countries. In most branches you only deal with two types of rankings: Enlisted and Officers. In the US the enlisted make up the majority of the armed forces, and the largest numbers are in between E-1 to E-4.

All branches have their own rank names that differ from others, but if you are creating a character that is associated with the military please look up whatever branch and there will often be a rank structure you can use! In the military most of the time officers and lower ranking enlisted hardly ever interact with each other outside Squadron/Battalion events, the more senior enlisted will have more interactions with officers out of the enlisted personnel.

Who qualifies as senior enlisted? These will often be some NCOs (Non-Commissioned Officers), and SNCOs (Senior Non-Commissioned Officers) and these guys/gals are usually E-5 and above.

One final note before I end here is in most cases Officers and Enlisted are NOT allowed to be involved romantically if they are in the same Chain of Command (the hierarchy of the military ranks). The only time this doesn’t apply is if both persons were legally married before one's military service or both were enlisted and one ended up commissioning to become an Officer. If this is in any other case than the two above it is often called Fraternization. And in the military if two individuals were caught doing this it can often be heavily punished by their Chain of Command.

Hey you made it to the end! Many thanks for reading and please share if you enjoyed it. As a final note this is not to slander/discourage anyone but its main function is to be used as a tool for others who may not understand the military lifestyle.

~ Mystic

#cod mw2 #military #InsidetheMindof #simon riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #konig cod

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