It was a good night to smoke. Clear and crisp. Movement on the rocky ledge above caught McCree’s attention. “Athena,” he called to the AI monitor just inside the metal building behind him. “Any strangers on your sensors?”
“Negative. You are at the edge of my sensor range, Agent McCree.”
“Figures. Best places to hide are out here too.” McCree muttered as he scanned the ledges above him, gritting his teeth into the cigar.
A flash of a human shadow made Jesse draw and shoot his Peacekeeper into the area. Three shots shattered stone and echoed into the distance. An arrow suddenly slammed into his metal prosthesis, pinning it to the tin wall. In that momentary pause, Jesse found himself staring down the shaft of another arrow. His revolver trained on the shadowed intruder’s forehead.
“Lower your weapon. I will not give you another warning.” The low voice barely registered over the shouting through Jesse’s earpiece.
“What’s going on,“ Winston’s voice came the loudest. “Athena, what is McCree’s location?”
“Jesse, luv, what are you shooting at? Everything alright?” Tracer’s voice pieced through the others.
Stock still, Jesse eyed the intruder and the arrow aimed for his own head. “Ain’t moving, partner. If you mean no harm, step back an inch and let me tell the others you’re here. Don’t want ‘em coming out guns a blazing, do ya?” McCree’s voice was pitched so only the archer could make out the words. His communication device was on mute and required physical activation.
The archer frowned considering , but did not move.
Jesse tried to contain a sigh. His left arm was pinned and would not move without a great deal of effort that would be misidentified as a threat. “Hey, Athena!” McCree called to the intelligence controlling the sensors. “Let them know there is an archer on the roof.”
“Affirmative,” the gentle female voice said from within the open door.
McCree waited in tense silence with an arrow at his head, his arm pinned to the wall and his own gun trained on the dark silhouette. He really was out of luck at the moment.
Winston’s voice resounded over his earpiece. “Tracer is on the way.”
“Did you say archer?” Genji’s voice asked over the comm line. A moment later, “I am here.” A soft thud behind the archer announced Genji’s arrival. Though the archer never lowered his weapon, soft angry Japanese hisses through the air between the two men.
Only with Genji placing a hand on both the arrow and the revolver did the archer relent. Jesse lowered his gun and waited a moment for the arrow to be unnotched before yanking his metal arm out of the building’s wall. It took three mighty heaves before the wall gave way.
“Jesse, this is my brother, Hanzo. Hanzo, this is Jesse McCree, a good friend of mine.” Genji stayed between the nervous archer and the irritated gunslinger.
“So this is the man that tried to kill you. Sorry, if I don’t shake your hand.” He eyed the other Shimada carefully as he holstered his weapon. Jesse scowled over his cigar as he fiddled with the arrow lodged in his arm. He would have to get Torbjorn or Angela to take a look at it. Still he could not keep from releasing a whistle, impressed with the marksmanship. On a professional level, of course. “Pretty handy with that bow.”
Hanzo scoffed in distain. “This is the likes of which you expect me to join?” The archer returned the arrow to his quiver and tilted his head to Genji.
Tracer chose that moment to appear on the landing with them. “Sorry, I’m late. Winston said Genji would take point. Shall we get going? Everyone is waiting to meet your brother, Genji.” Lena’s chipper voice did little to lighten the heavy atmosphere.
Genji made to follow Lena first. Hanzo, still uncertain, hesitated before making the decision to stiffly put his back to McCree. Jesse called out to the archer, “Hey, Hanzo, you did know that this arm was metal, right?”
Everyone turned, but Hanzo scowled and made a point to study the prosthetic and the offending arrow with utter distain. “It would not have made a difference.”
“What?” McCree stopped fiddling with the carbon fiber arrow to stare slack jawed at the declaration. “Come on now, you did know… Right? Genji?” The cyborg shrugged though there was a soft chuckle from the mechanically enhanced ninja. Hanzo refused to answer further as he joined the other two, leaving McCree to trail them with a decrepit metal arm.
A thunderstorm brews in the outskirts of the city’s landscape, heavy winds rattling the limbs of old trees and washing away the remnants of spring. Dead leaves adorn the sidewalks leading past abandoned cars, discolored caution tapes and skeletons of skyscrapers once home to mindless conversations and heartfelt laughter.
The putrid smell of decaying flesh hits you like a punch in the gut to remind you that the world is not even a step close to being what once was–– not today, at least. Young people shouldn’t be so jaded, but when you’re forced to live in a world where death is commonplace, there’s no place for hope or faith.
How to make your own wooden arrows. I do this regularly, since I break plenty with archery competitions, and buying custom made arrows becomes too expensive. Plus my arrows are unique and easy to find back in the woods. Little Erik is there to give all the arrows luck.
1.) Stuff you need. Shafts, feathers and points of course, but also nocks, paint, varnish, some wooden planks, brushes, newspapers, glue, a pencilsharpener, sandpaper, yarn, and, most important of all: a feather fletch gig.
2.) Sharpen both ends of the shafts. I make wooden arrows, in case you make, aluminium,- carbon.- or fiberglass arrows this isn’t necessary. The equipment looks like a normal pencilsharpener but it is especially for arrows only.
3.) Paint the shafts to your liking. I only paint the upper half and leave the lower half wood coloured.
4.) Varnish the shafts. All of it, so the painted part too. Make sure the shafts touch as little as possible while drying. Here I let mine rest vertical against the edge of a table, with lots of newspaper around them.
5.) Glue the nocks. Despite shooting traditional archery, with a wooden bow and wooden arrows, I use modern plastic nocks. It’s just easier. Plus mine are pink, so my arrows look neat and girly. Which is cool.
6.) Glue the points. Steel light weight points for me. The glue I use is called Dragon Spit, and really is as good as it sounds. It glues everything in zero seconds. Amazing stuff.
7.) Roughen the top of the shafts and the flat side of the feathers with sandpaper. This is important to give the glue more grip.
8.) And then the most fun part: glue the feathers! You can’t do this without the fletch gig, this is the most important equipment of all. One feather at a time, so depending on how many arrows you make, this can take a really long time. Each feather needs at least 15 mins. in the gig. 3feathers per arrows = 45.min.per arrow. This set took me 5 days.
9.) Mark the arrows (your name, number) and wrap some coloured yarn around the tips of the feathers. This isn’t necessary but it looks neat. It also reduces the chances of loose feathers a bit. I skipped this step for the set I’m making now, but on the photo are some old arrows from previous sets, where I used red and black yarn.
10.) Tadaaaaa! A new set of arrows for me. Let the games begin!
Shooting some straw bales with the 45# Samick Sage recurve bow near Fern Camp, with Danny as my witty cameraman.
Carbon arrows are not my first pick (I’m more partial to aluminum!), but Danny bought me this set so we could shoot that day and I’m planning to make good use of them. Of course, he *had* to get me the hot pink ones.
You walk in through the huge double doors of you high school, ready for another predictable day. You can’t help but think about all the other activities you could be doing, for example making yourself a new bow, or practicing to shoot carbon fibre arrows. The full moon was tomorrow and you needed to be prepared.
You sigh as you approach your locker, dreading your History class when you notice the normally empty locker next to yours is opened and stacked with new books. Curiously, you look down the corridor and see a gorgeous boy with a god-like jawline approach the locker, smirking at you. His eyes trail down your body and you immediately tense up, suddenly flustered as you inwardly curse yourself, “Hey,” he smirks looking back up into your eyes, “My name’s Jackson.”
“Y/N,” you say glancing at him quickly and giving him a small smile.
Your friend appears behind you, “We’re going to be late for class.” she says dragging you down the corridor, she looks at Jackson and whispers to you, “Is he new? He’s cute.”
“See you later, Y/N.” Jackson shouts down the corridor his lips still curved in that attractive smirk.
It was going to be an interesting day.
You’re sitting in Science class when Jackson walks in the classroom, eyes scanning the room and coming to a halt as they land on you. He smiles and approaches your desk, “Hey Y/N,”
“Hi,” you say absentmindedly trying to focus on the worksheet in front of you. He places his books on the table next to you and gracefully slides his body into the chair. You look at his face questioningly, he just smirks at you.
“So where are you from, Jackson?” class is in full swing and you are working on a practical.
“I just moved here from America,” he replies as his eyes observe the tube in his hands.
“Oh, where abouts in America?”
“Beacon Hills,” he says, “You’ve probably never heard of it.”
“Actually, my cousin and uncle live there.”
He raises his eyebrows, “Really?”
I nod smiling, “Small world I guess.”
We’re interrupted by the teacher, “Are you two working over there.” We look up and nod, “Of course, miss.” she glares at us suspiciously before she continues ranting on about different chemical substances.
“So I was wondering,” Jackson says as we’re walking to our lockers, “Could you maybe show me around London?” you pause and see him start to get flustered, “I know it’s a big ask, you don’t ha-”
He looks at you and smiles gratefully. It’s a contrast from his usual cocky demeanour, but even more endearing.
“How about tomorrow after school?”
He pauses, hesitating as he replies, “T-Tomorrow? I suppos-.”
“Or maybe sometime next week?”
“No, tomorrow will be fine,” he smiles nervously, “thanks.”
“Okay, see you later then?”
He nods, “I’ll see you later.”
You wait for Jackson at the coffee shop down the street from the high school. It’s been an hour and he still hasn’t shown up, ‘Great,’ you thought, ‘he stood me up.’
You begin to walk home when you hear a scream from the forest near your house; you mentally hit yourself completely forgetting it was a full moon. You take out your dagger from your shoe and head into the woods.
You see a werewolf through the thickets, growling and whimpering. You tighten your grip around your blade and hide in the shadows preparing to attack.
At last when he quietens down you make your move, tripping the beast with your leg and pressing your dagger to this throat. When you look at his face you’re shocked,
A/N: Thanks for reading guys! I know there wasn’t much romance in this, but I hope you guys still like it :) Please feel free to send in your prompts.
could you please do an imagine where the reader is at home after allison (reader’s best friend) died and gets angry and starts to just throw and destroy stuff in her room and then isaac comes to check on reader and finds her crying in the middle of the mess. he comforts her and tells her that they found a way to destroy the oni (with the silver arrows) and that they need her to help them bc she’s a witch or something? THANKS x
A/N- No problem, sweetie! I had never written about witches before but I really liked it. I think it’d be a cool thing for them to do in the show, but I guess emissaries are already sort of like a witch. Next up is a Scott imagine.
It’s okay. You screamed in frustration as you stood in the middle of your room, your hands curling into fists as you tried to hold yourself together. It’s okay. You couldn’t stop the images running through your head. You couldn’t unsee the sword going through Allison’s stomach, and the shocked look on her face as she realized what had happened. You couldn’t unhear her last words, insisting that everything was fine. But most of all, you couldn’t forget the way the light had disappeared from her eyes as she took her final breaths. It’s okay. It’s perfect. Your hands shook as you uncurled them, not knowing how to stop the unbearable rage that began to fill up inside you. You gritted your teeth as every object in the room began to shake. You had heard about this from your mother, and she had talked about how a witch’s emotions could manifest themselves through her powers, but it had never happened to you before. At any other time you would have thought it astonishing, but not now. Not after your best friend had just been run through with a katana. You whirled around suddenly, your eyes zeroing in on the first object you could find. In seconds, your lamp was flying straight into the wall, smashing into several pieces. You spun around the room, channeling all of your anger and grief into tearing your room apart. Your comforter was ripped off the bed by sheer force of will, and posters and picture frames were torn from the wall and shredded to pieces. You knew you should stop, and that if you lost total control there was no going back, but you weren’t sure that you wanted to. You didn’t care about the state of your room, or about the fact that if your parents weren’t on a date right then they would kill you for abusing your powers like this. Your best friend was dead, and nothing else mattered. You looked around, searching for something, anything that you could channel your rage at. Your eyes fell on a group of photographs taped to the back of your door, all ones of you and Allison. There was the time you had gone to the spring formal with her and Lydia, all dressed up and flashing the camera a bright smile. There was one of you and Allison dressed up in matching Halloween costumes, her as Hawkeye and you as Black Widow. And then there was the one that had been taken only two months ago, right after you had stopped Jennifer Blake from killing any more innocent people. You and the rest of the pack had all gone to a carnival just to get your mind off of things and act like normal teenagers for once. In the photo, you were standing in front of the ferris wheel, funnel cake in hand as Alison slung an arm around your shoulders. It had been one of the happiest nights of your lives, and it hadn’t made any sense not to commemorate it. Now, as you stared at these pictures, you felt a crushing wave of grief wash over you. Allison had told you that it was okay, but you knew nothing would ever be okay again. You let out a painful sob, losing the battle against the tears you had been fighting to hold in all night. You were shaking and tears were flowing from your eyes, but you couldn’t control the way a vase on your nightstand lifted up. It spun and shook in the air for a moment, but you were soon sending it straight for you bedroom door. It would have shattered against the pictures, ruining them if not for the door suddenly opening. “Y/n, I found- HOLY SHIT!” someone cried, and you weren’t able to stop the flying vase until it was just inches from Isaac Lahey’s face. You froze, causing every object floating about to fall to the floor, including the vase which shattered at Isaac’s feet. You looked up into his startled blue eyes, and watched them move around the room, taking in the absolute chaos. It looked like a hurricane had been through your room, with debris from whatever you had thrown scattered across the floor. Torn paper floated around you, soaking up a bit of the left over energy from your powers. Most of them quickly drifted the the ground, but one stuck in your hair just above your ear. Isaac swallowed, noticing your splotchy face and the fact that you looked absolutely crushed. His eyes immediately filled with concern, as he watched you slid down the edge of your bed and onto the floor, suddenly exhausted from using too much magic. “She’s dead, Isaac,” you sobbed into the silence of your room. “She’s dead and she’s not coming back.” He slowly walked over to you, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stepped over pieces of the broken lamp. “I know. But she wouldn’t have wanted you to do this.” “I couldn’t help it,” you whispered. “I don’t-I don’t know why.” “Where are your parents?” he asked softly. “Date night,” you informed him, sucking in a shaky breath and trying to calm yourself down so you could at least have a conversation. “And they thought it would be okay to leave you alone?” he questioned. “I insisted,” you admitted, wiping your nose. “I guess that wasn’t such a good idea.” Isaac scoffed, peering around at your destroyed room. “Yeah, no kidding.” “Why are you here?” you asked him, staring at the floor. “We were never friends before.” “We both loved Allison,” he told you, reaching out and gently picking the stray piece of paper out of your hair. “So maybe we should have been. But you’re right, that’s not why I’m here. We found a way to defeat the Oni.” “What?” you demanded, your eyes finally moving up from the floor. You all had been sure there was no way to defeat the Oni. You had given up on the hope of ever getting revenge for your best friend’s death, but now it seemed there might still be a chance to get it. “How?” you demanded. “Allison killed one of them,” Isaac stated. “Before she…it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that her arrow, the silver one she forged, it killed one of them.” “And we can defeat them?” “I don’t know about the Nogitsune,” Isaac admitted. “But we can kill the Oni with the rest of the arrows.” “Thanks for letting me know,” you whispered. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone now.” “We need your help, Y/n,” Isaac told you. “We need someone who can help if something goes wrong. Someone with your powers.” “Me?” you repeated. You took a deep breath, not sure if you were ready to step into another battle. You wanted to avenge Allison, but you were a pretty young witch with very little control over your powers. Wouldn’t it better to let the people who actually knew what they were doing handle it? “You,” Isaac said. “Y/n, please. We need you.” “When?” you asked. “Tomorrow night.” You sighed, running your hands through your hair and peering around at the disastrous state of your room. You knew you were probably making the wrong decision, but you couldn’t not do something to help. “I’ll be there.”
“Get the arrow!” Argent shouted to you and the twins. “It’s the last one!” You unevenly stumbled back, feeling your energy slowly melting away. You had been using your powers for thirty minutes straight, which didn’t seem long to some people, but for a witch it felt like an eternity. You had just knocked an Oni off it’s feet with a gust of powerful wind, immobilizing it so Ethan could plunge an arrow into it’s chest. “Go!” Aiden growled to you. “We’ll cover you.” He and Ethan turned towards the last Oni, intercepting it as it went to block your path towards to fallen arrow. You skirted around the fighting, quickly running your hand over the cold carbon arrow and muttering a charm. “Volatis,” you whispered, causing the arrow to rise from the ground. “Move!” you yelled to Ethan and Aiden, urging the arrow to fly towards the Oni. They stepped aside and the thing whirled around, intending to catch it, but it was too slow. The arrow stuck in it’s chest with a loud thwack! and it soon erupted into a puff of dust. An air of peaceful calm rippled through the air, and you felt a wave of dizziness hit you. You stumbled, and you would have fallen onto the ground if not for the strong pair of arms catching you. You looked up in confusion as Isaac slowly brought you to the ground. “Did you kill him?” you asked, referring to the nogitsune. “Is everyone alright?” “He’s gone,” Isaac assured you. “And Stiles is safe too. Everyone is.” “Good,” you whispered, as you realized that you had defeated the enemy and that everyone was okay. “I’m so tired.” “It’s okay,” Isaac told you. “Using your powers took a lot out of you. You can sleep if you want.” You shook your head, your hair brushing against the fabric of his shirt. “No. I-I need to get up.” You tried to pull yourself out of his lap, but you could barely make it a foot off the ground before you were falling back into it. “Easy,” Isaac warned. “You don’t need to worry about anything. Everything is okay, Y/n. Just rest now.” You sighed, leaning back into him. “Okay.” You relaxed into Isaac’s lap, your head falling against his chest. You hadn’t gotten much sleep since Allison died, and how much you had used your powers only made the exhaustion worse. You couldn’t fight it any longer, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t keep your eyes open. You slowly drifted off to sleep, at peace with the fact that everyone was safe and that Allison’s death hadn’t been in vain. Isaac was right. Everything was okay.
Vintage Fred Bear Kodiak Magnum Recurve Bow. I’ve been using these “Traditional Only” carbon arrows and I’m really liking them. 600 grains with a 200 grain broadhead (TreeShark) they hit hard and take a beating.
Jung Taekwoon. Archer. Trademark weapon: Hunter recurve bow with carbon arrows. Specialising in discretion, stealth and quiet kills. Does not communicate directly with clients. Contracts made through third party. Current appearance and location: unknown.
Who wants a superhero physics lesson?
Of course you do.
I’m bored, so I did some calculations.
So. Hawkeye. Archer. Badass member of both The Avengers and the JLA (Sorry, Ollie).
His bow has a draw weight of 250 pounds. I got to thinking, how fast would an arrow from this bow go? And how hard would the futzing thing hit?
First, I had to figure out the weight of the actual arrows.
The International Bowhunting Organization’s standard for carbon arrow weight is 5 grains (0.065 grams) per pound of draw weight. Hawkeye’s bow is set to 250 pounds, so an arrow should weigh approx 1250 grains or 81 grams (2.85 ounces for you imperial users).
Now that we know the weight, we can start calculating speed.
If at 1 Newton of force, 1 kilogram can go 1 meter per second, how fast would .081 kilograms go? Using inverse proportionality, at 1 Newton, the arrow would go 12.3 meters per second.
Now 1 pound of draw weight equals about 4.45 Newtons, making Hawkeye’s draw force 1100 Newtons.
Using Newton’s Third Law (for every action, there is an opposite but equal reaction), if Hawkeye draws the full 1100 Newtons of force, how fast is the 81 gram arrow going to fly? At approx 13580.25 meters per second. For you imperial users, that’s 30378.15 miles per hour. For comparison, a commercial jet flies at about 550 mph. That’s about 55 times faster than a 747!
So, now that we know the weight of the arrow and the speed, we can calculate how hard that sucker is going to hit.
Kinetic energy, or knockdown power, is calculated as ½ mass in kilograms times velocity in meters per second squared. So ½(.081kg)•(13580.25m/s)² equals about 7,469,139.2 Joules of energy or about 5,508,954.37 foot-pounds of force. That’s 24 Meganewtons. It takes 35 Meganewtons to launch a Saturn V Rocket! For comparison, a 180 grain bullet fired from a .357 magnum hits with about 640 foot-pounds of force.
I took the circa 1970’s Fred Bear Kodiak Magnum out for a hike to some high elevations today. Didn’t see much but I had the opportunity to set up a for a few editorial images. The bow is 52 inches in length. 45#@28". An Easton “Traditional Only” carbon arrow and a two blade 2 ½ inch wide Simmons Tree Shark broadhead.
You Put the Arrow In (Became an Angel Too) - Part 2: Meet the Team
I have absolutely no restraint.
Because this story is following more of a multiple-one-shots-in-the-same-verse structure instead of a flowing/plot-filled multi-chapter fic, I have basically 5 parts (13k+ words) written already. So here’s part 2.
Also for those wondering ages: Felicity (19), Oliver (26), Sara (24), Roy (21), Digg (35)
Summary: When Felicity Smoak started hacking the Starling City vigilante and his Team five months ago, she wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted from it. But now he’s found her in an alleyway and given her an offer she can’t and doesn’t want to refuse.
Felicity is quick to survey the inner layout of the Arrow’s secret sanctum, which is surprisingly, or not so surprisingly given whom she suspects to be hiding under that hood, located underneath Verdant, one of Starling City’s clubbing hot spots. They snuck in through some backdoor alleyway thing. Probably a good idea since he was still in full vigilante get-up. That would draw the attention of the partygoers no matter what inhibition-releasing substances they were on.
“I wouldn’t call it magic but yes, this is our base of operations if you will.”
There are multiple steel tables with various technologies set on them. One is completely bare and she assumes that is a makeshift med bay of sorts. There’s a heart monitor, defibrillator, and IV standing next to it so that’s probably a pretty good guess. Three glass cases stand next to each other, all possessing a naked mannequin inside of different heights and sizes.
There are two stations in particular that call her attention. One is a multi-monitor computer set up with a giant cushioned chair that is calling her name. Her fingers itch with the need to run over the keyboard and expose all the secrets of the Arrow and what exactly he does down here. But she’ll get to that later.
The second thing that catches Felicity’s eye is the weapons station, in particular the arrows and different bow models it holds. She wanders over to the area, glancing back to check if he’s still watching her and that it’s okay for her to do this. But really he brought her here and if he thought she wasn’t going to take this chance to go exploring then he had another thing coming. She is going to take full advantage of this opportunity.
When their eyes meet she catches her breath. Even beneath the hood and dark green, almost black, mask she can see the intensity in his gaze. He’s as curious about her as she is about him, studying her reactions the same way she is studying his lair. Only there’s more heat in his inquisitive gaze than hers.
Practicing with my freshly made hunting arrows. Traditional Only carbon arrows. Crown dipped and hand crested. 3-fletched with wild turkey cock feather and two red hen feathers. Tipped with 150 grain Woodsman broadheads.