gas grenade

Why Does it Have to be You? - Damian Wayne x Reader

Originally posted by crownprincefreeza

Requested by Anon -  a Damian x reader where Klarion has started causing chaos around Gotham and the only person he’s willing to listen to is the reader, because he has a crush on them.

The night was a quiet one. So quiet, in fact, Damian sent you home earlier when he caught you yawning one too many times. He knew you hadn’t been getting much rest lately. 

Damian was currently crouched by a stone gargoyle, debating whether he should turn in himself. The thought about crawling into bed next to you seemed very appealing. He frowned, glancing at the clock tower behind him to find it still an unnaturally early hour. Taking out his grapple gun, Damian decided to make one more round of the city before returning home to you.

Damian was just going passed the Gotham Train Station when a explosion sent him tumbling to the ground. He rolled back to his feet before scrambling to see what happened. Much to his displeasure, he spotted a swam of magical energy surrounding the building. 

Swinging down to slip into the building through one of the windows, Damian growled as he saw Klarion floating in the center of the room. 

“What are you doing here, Witch Boy?” Damian demanded, dropping down to the floor. Klarion sneered at him, lifting a finger to zap a civilian unlucky enough to cross his path. The person turned into a mouse, scurrying away. 

“Go away, Birdy. My kitty might eat you,” Klarion threatened, glancing around. He frowned when he realized Damian was the only vigilante in the room. “Where is (Y/N)?”

Damian sighed, sensing what this was about. “(Y/N) is not here, Witch Boy. I’m afraid you only have me tonight.” He watched silently as Klarion’s face slowly grew redder and more grotesque. Damian’s eyes widened when he felt something brush against his leg. He glanced down to find Teekl. Before he could move, Teekl turned into a giant beast. Damian fought the monstrous Teekl while Klarion threw magic blasts at him. 

“No, No, No!!!” Klarion was screaming as Damian did his best to avoid the magic blasts and Teekl. Eventually, one of Teekl’s paws slammed into Damian throwing him out of the building and into the street. Damian could feel one of his ribs crack, but rolled out of the way of another magic blast from Klarion.

Keep reading

Grenade suffocante Bertrand Mle1915

Manufactured in France c.1915-1918? for the French army.
6cm diameter, 175g six-parts steel shell assembled by steel wire, containing a glass sphere loaded with 25g of chloroacetone tear gas.

Although very cheap to make and easy to use, it was an awkward weapon to carry around the battlefield due to its glass core.

Protests and arrests

someone asked about protests, arrests, and safety, and it seems like something to be shared more generally,“. also i’m interested in how other cities handle protest arrests, and share my perspective that the women’s march may be one of the last safe and easy protests for a long time.

i’m 33, older than a lot of you, so I was very involved in anti-bush protests and Iraq war protests here in Portland. I can ONLY speak for Portland, Oregon. I got arrested the night we started bombing Iraq. We were blocking an intersection and a bridge, and the arrests took like five or six hours; the protests had been going on for hours prior.

When we sat down to block the intersection and the bridge, we intended to get arrested. USUALLY before an action like that word spreads, "we’re doing such and such thing, if you don’t want to be arrested leave now.” At the last BLM protest I went to, they tried to block another bridge. They’d kind of waited way too long and allowed the cops to box them in, but the word still went out thru the protest “we’re gonna try this thing, if you don’t want get arrested stay back.”

Then you do the thing. Sit at the intersection or take the bridge. If you’re planning on going for a bridge or the freeway, you have to get to access points before the cops. That was the big mistake BLM made, too much marching around in circles before the cops closed in and we got stuck in the circle and access points to freeways and bridges were cut off.

In 2003 we did the thing (blocking the bridge) and we were allowed to do so, the cops had been hanging back for much of the march, unlike last summer where they closed things off and waited for people to come within hours.

Once you’re at the spot that’s clogging things up, at a certain point they show up with paddywagons, noise grenades, &c.

Depending on the city and what’s been happening in the city, they will also show up with pepper spray, tear gas, and rubber bullets. The anti-bush protests I used to go to, PPB was always trigger happy with the bullets and pepper spray; at the first war protest they weren’t, for whatever reason. Not even noise grenades, they just let us sit and then started arresting us by midnight. so don’t take any response for granted.

OFTEN they will tell you to disperse or “___consequences___ will begin.” Consequences being either arrests or “dispersal tactics” tear gas, pepper spray, concussion grenades, rubber bullets, bean bag pellets.

HOWEVER they do not always do this here and i don’t even know how often they give warning in other cities.
After that big anti-war protest when we were blocking the bridges and got arrested and flooded the jails, they went back to being trigger happy with the pepper spray and rubber bullets. They also stopped announcing that they were going to start arresting people, and started tripping activists, attacking them, arresting people for “JAYWALKING” omfg. just picking us off from the sidelines, and as always people of colour and trans women were the first targets.

The night of the bridge sit in they told us that anyone who wanted to leave and not be arrested could, and then a trans woman tried to leave and was arrested. You can’t take cops at their word. That seems obvious but it can still be shocking to be at a protest, talking to people, and then suddenly have a face full of pepper spray. I cried the first time that happened, not just from pain but also because I was so shocked! no warning, just BAM, they attacked us.

If you get arrested over the weekend there’s a possibility that they’ll keep you in jail until Monday. That’s what they did to the trans woman they arrested even when the rest of us were allowed out within 36 hours.
Bear in mind that they may keep you in a paddy wagon for hours and hours, without access to a bathroom. I had to pee and it was agony.
When you get arrested, they don’t remove your cuffs. You share a cell with a bunch of other people and they can help you get your pants down :D
If you can get out of your zip ties, at least friggin pretend to keep them on or they’ll put you in metal cuffs (experience).

If you don’t want to get arrested, it is okay to try to walk away at any point. I don’t have backup care for my dogs and I try not to be arrested now because of that.
If you aren’t able to be peppersprayed or tear gassed or shot at (and like, those things can have really negative consequences on your health?) it is okay to try to walk away. There are and there will be other ways to resist.

I say “try to” because as that one woman showed, they don’t always let you, even if they said they would.

And finally, protests thinned out because Bush created “free speech zones”: specific areas where it was okay to gather but only in certain numbers, in other spaces gatherings could be arrested, and too large a gathering could be interrupted and arrested.

I think it’s likely we’re about to see a return to those conditions, and the women’s march, as racist, ableist, whorephobic, and mainstream white feminism as it is, may be one of the last big protests you can expect to attend without too many negative consequences for a while.

So whether or not you go out today is up to you and there is no right or wrong choice. Remember that resistance is ongoing, and it looks as much like feeding hungry people as it does like wearing a fuzzy goddamn cat hat (my dad texted me that he’s wearing a “pussy hat” in DC today and i died of shock. but i’m back.)

go get em. whatever that looks like.


HAPPY BIRTHDAY skoptsy!!!!!!!!!!! ;U;/ I’d like to start my sappy speech with how much ILU. Your one of the nicest if not the nicest artist I’ve ever met, not once have i ever felt insignificant when talking with you. Your extremely patient with me and help me when i ask for your advice or help, you listen to me when i spam in your streams. You said my oc was nice and followed me hence our unborn child that was the cause of that. LMFAO. Your art is perfection and your oc’s are too. I hope you had the best birthday ever because you deserve it!!!! ;V;/ HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVELY SEMPAI!!!!! i included your fav’s in my drawing *wink *wink *nudge nudge**** HUE. ILU. BYE. <333

p.s. i hope i didnt butcher your oc lmfao. <333 xoxoxoxoxoxo


UKRAINE. Kiev. February 2016. Pro-EU protesters during the Euromaidan Revolution. [Part 1]

The Ukrainian Revolution took place in Ukraine in February 2014, when a series of violent events involving protesters, riot police, and unknown shooters in the capital, Kiev, culminated in the ousting of Ukrainian President, Viktor Yanukovych.

Protests originally erupted in November 2013 after Yanukovych refused to sign a political association and free trade agreement with the European Union, choosing closer ties with Russia instead. The rallies were initially peaceful but became violent in January 2014 after the Parliament, dominated by Yanukovych’s supporters, passed laws intended to repress the protests. 

Thus, this period of relative calm in the anti-government demonstrations in Kiev ended abruptly on 18 February 2014, when protesters and police began to clash. Some 20,000 Euromaidan protesters advanced on Ukraine’s parliament in support of restoring the Constitution of Ukraine to its 2004 form, which had been repealed by the Constitutional Court of Ukraine shortly after Yanukovych was elected president in 2010. The police blocked their path. The confrontation turned violent; the BBC reported that each side blamed the other. The police fired guns with both rubber bullets and, later, live ammunition (including automatic weapons and sniper rifles), while also using tear gas and flash grenades in an attempt to repel thousands of demonstrators. The protesters fought back with crude weapons, firearms, and improvised explosives. At least 82 people were killed over the next few days and more than 1,100 people were injured.

On 20 February, Internal Affairs Minister Vitaliy Zakharchenko announced that he had signed a decree authorising the use of live ammunition against protesters. Central Kiev saw the worst violence yet, and the death toll in 48 hours of clashes rose to at least 77. In response, the chairman of the Ukrainian parliament, Volodymyr Rybak, announced the next day that he had signed a parliamentary decree condemning the use of force and urging all institutions (the Ministry of Internal Affairs, the Cabinet of Ministers, etc.) to cease immediately all military actions against protesters. Parliament also suspended Zakharchenko from his duties. 

On 22 February, the protesters were reported to be in control of Kiev, and Yanukovych was said to have fled the capital for eastern Ukraine. The parliament voted 328–0 in favour of impeaching Yanukovych and scheduled new presidential elections for 25 May.

On 23 February, Parliament deputy Oleh Lyashko claimed that Yanukovych had been seen at the Russian naval base in Sevastopol, preparing to flee the country on board a Russian military vessel.

On 24 February, acting Interior Minister Avakov announced that Yanukovych had been placed on the country’s most wanted list and that “a criminal case on mass killings of civilians has been opened” for him and other officials.

On 25 February, Parliament asked the International Criminal Court to “establish and bring to justice” senior Ukrainian officials, including Yanukovych, for crimes against humanity committed during “peaceful protests of citizens” from 21 November 2013 to 22 February 2014. On the same day, Yanukovych and Zakharchenko were declared internationally wanted. Criminal proceedings were launched in the 20 February killings of Euromaidan demonstrators.

Following the Ukrainian revolution, a secession crisis began in the Russian-leaning Crimean Peninsula. On 1 March 2014, Yanukovych put into writing his request that President Putin of Russia send military forces “to establish legitimacy, peace, law and order, stability and defending the people of Ukraine”. On the same day, Putin requested and received authorization from the Russian Parliament to deploy troops to Ukraine in response to the crisis. Russian troops accordingly mobilized throughout Crimea and the southeast of Ukraine. By 2 March, Russian troops had complete control over Crimea. The territory was annexed by the Russian Federation on 18 March 2014. The crisis is still ongoing.


Law enforcement officials at the Standing Rock DAPL protests sprayed people with water cannons in subzero temperatures. 300 have been hospitalized

 A video released by The Guardian Monday night shows police spraying Dakota Access Pipeline protesters with what Morton County Sheriff Kyle Kirchmaier claims are fire hoses. But the Standing Rock Medic & Healer Council, a medical group in support of the protest, wrote on Facebook that the machines were water cannons and that pepper spray, tear gas, concussion grenades, and rubber bullets were also used. And now a young protestor may have to have her arm amputated thanks to law enforcement violence.

anonymous asked:

Just curious, since I never see anyone talk about them. What head cannons do you have for any of the operators from r6s?

i will gladly share some of the R6S headcanons me and @capt-pissoff came up with:

— The SAS boys (and probably other operators as well) call Thatcher ‘Margaret’ when he’s not present.
— Smoke has his nipple (or maybe both) pierced.
— Rook smokes sometimes. Doc greatly disapproves.
— Mute is the only child in the family and was born when his parents were in their late 30’s or early 40’s already, so they are very protective of him. They were harshly against his relationship with Smoke at first, but accepted it eventually.
— Monika can easily tell Dominic from his identical twin brother. Cedrick once tried to hit on her as if he was Dominic, but his attempt apparently failed.
— Blitz and IQ are BFF and love each other in the sweetest platonic way, so there’s no need for Jäger and Bandit to be worried when these two spend time / work together (i mean apart from the rest of the GSG-9 unit).
— As a doctor, Gustave has no forbidden grounds to talk about, and it shocks Julien from time to time. But Doc loves making Rook blush tbh.
— Everyone starts humming Emmanuelle’s theme by Pierre Bachelet when Twitch walks in. She hates the song. And the movie. And the rest of the crew when they do this.
— Thatcher looks younger than his actual age. Sledge must be thinking he’s a vampire and sleeps with his caber under their bed, just in case. I’m kidding.
— I bet Valkyrie likes to gently slap Blackbeard’s wonderful butt, she believes it brings her luck.
— Blitz likes to joke around with his comrades by using his flash shield to blind them, he finds it funny.
— When the GSG-9 guys drink with the Russian unit, they end up singing and dancing to Dschinghis Khan - Moskau.
— As we all know, Thermite is Irish-American, so I like to imagine he actually speaks at least a little Gaeilge.
— Mute is jealous when Smoke refers to his remote gas grenades as ‘my beauties’.

Reaping the High Noon

A shrill wind echoed across the deserted highlands of Route 66. Harsh to those unaccustomed with the arid wastes, but strangely welcoming to those who familiarized themselves with this enviroment.

Jesse McCree only wished he could let familiarity sweep him away this one desert evening. But as he sat with his back pressed against a wall, holed up inside a rundown diner on the edge of a ravine, he knew that wasn’t a possibility. Not with Talon operatives perched outside.

The day had started off just peachy for the former Blackwatch operative; enjoying a solemn cup of joe, thinking of getting some eggs and bacon to go with the drink. True, the coffee here tasted like motor oil, but it was a rare opportunity for the vigilante to simply relax.

That all ceased when tear gas grenades had been hurled inside, and a megaphone-wielding soldier commanded McCree to step out with his hands raised to surrender peacefully. One might have thought it was law enforcement, but Jesse knew better. They would rather he come in a body bag than with his hands in the air.

So after he convinced the frightened patrons and the staff to evacuate through the back door, he simply made peace with the situation. He counted about seven men outside. One of them stood further out back, out of sight, while the others were waiting to pepper him down the instant he showed his face out the door. So he had to be quick about it.

“…hm… guess there’s a high noon somewhere in the world.”

Swiftly, he rolled from his spot of cover, just making it to the front door; rising up with his back against the wall as he allowed his revolver to rest in its holster for the moment. The silence in the air was deafening, save for that wind still brushing past the landscape of the wastes.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he slammed his free hand against the switch to open the doors, before he spun out from cover. The men outside, clearly dressed in black ops gear meant for taking down a high-value target, didn’t even have time to react before McCree yanked his prized Peacekeeper from its holster, fanned the hammer, and nailed a bullet between each of their eyes.

The sound of their bodies striking the ground cold drew a faint breath out of him, as he quickly reloaded. McCree hadn’t started the day off hoping that he’d have more blood on his hands than before, but some times, there was no avoiding such things. But with that said, one question remained… was the last man going to put up a better fight?

…efficient as always.

McCree barely had time to react to that ghastly voice, before the chill of death seemed to snare its way behind him, in a blackened vapor. His eyes narrowed as he quickly spun around, before he felt his throat snatched in an iron grip. Before him stood a creature clad in black robes, a white, deathly mask adorned on his face to hide his identity.

“…Reaper.” the gunslinger wheezed out with a hiss. Ever since Winston had contacted the scattered members of Overwatch, the warning of Talon and the enigmatic Reaper hunting them down had been an ever-present threat. But as he stood before him in that ghastly flesh, the threat seemed all too real.

Before McCree could utter another word, Reaper swiftly tossed him back into the diner, smashing against some tables and shattering plates and cups left behind by the fleeing patrons. “Your time has come, McCree.” the blackened Reaper chuckled, hands clenching around the hilt of two shotguns he pulled from within his robes, aiming them for the gunslinger.

The moment he fired, however, McCree rolled to cover behind the serving counter, hearing the pellets of the two weapons bouncing against the floor plating and the scattered tables. Knowing he’d be torn to shreds in close quarters with that spectral mercenary, McCree had to rely on his wits to fight off the Reaper. He briefly popped out from cover once the sound of fire ceased, snapping his finger twice against the trigger to shoot at Reaper.

One of those shots pierced through the specter’s shoulder, but as the second one was aimed further to the left for a more vital area, Reaper suddenly turned himself intangible, his being shifting into black vapor as he shot for McCree’s cover. Before the gunslinger could roll away, Reaper suddenly materialized above him, tossing aside a shotgun to grab the hand McCree held his gun in, forcing him to drop his weapon as he pinned him down.

Jesse hissed as he glared up at the ghostly being, who now made sure to properly keep the Peacekeeper out of his grasp. A dark chuckle fled his being as he slowly aimed the other shotgun down at McCree. “Don’t worry. You’ll be joined by the others soon enough.” Slowly, his finger squeezed the trigger of the shotgun, intending to make McCree sweat as he trained the barrel for his head.

“…see, that’s where you’re wrong.” McCree managed to utter, his free hand having just slipped into his poncho to grab onto something extra. “I ain’t goin’ to Hell yet… but I’m sendin’ you down there first.” The instant he uttered that, he hurled a flashbang at Reaper’s face, disorienting the specter as he groaned, giving McCree the change to kick him off. Then, with the opening he created, he rolled for the discarded Peacekeeper, turned to Reaper as he regained his bearings, and fanned the hammer to empty his magazine.

One shot struck against Reaper’s hand, disarming him by knocking the shotgun out of his grasp. The second and third shots all curved up from there, one striking the inside of his elbow and the other landing squarely in his chest. The final one, however, struck true; having curved just right to pierce Reaper’s mask, shattering it as he fell back, collapsing from the onslaught of wounds.

With heavy breaths, McCree quickly reloaded his weapon, looking at the fallen being on the ground. The faint groans indicated that Reaper still wasn’t dead, which McCree honestly wasn’t surprised by. They had dealt with hardy enemies back in the day, so there was no reason for them to stop even now. Figuring he should finish the job, McCree slowly approached the Reaper, training his revolver for his head… but the moment McCree got a better look, his eyes widened.

As noted, the final shot had indeed shattered Reaper’s mask, actually leaving his head exposed for the world to see. And the sight stunned the gunslinger enough to actually drop his revolver. Laying motionless before him was a face he thought long since passed, ever since the days of Overwatch ended. The dark, rough, unmistakeable mug of his former commander in chief from his days at Blackwatch; Commander Gabriel Reyes.

“…no way.” The shock left McCree silent, as he simply took a step back whilst looking down at the fallen Reaper. To think that the merciless assassin hellbent on bringing the former agents of Overwatch down was none other than the commander of his former unit. Even in the darkest days of his time there, where Reyes and Jack Morrison would argue over Blackwatch’s growing control, he never would have imagined his commander to take it this far.

The shock, however, left McCree briefly unaware of the more pressing matter; despite having nailed the man with five deadly revolver rounds, those wounds were just dissipating into black mist. And just as he actually noticed that, Reyes’ eyes opened, and he shot to his feet; snatching Jesse’s throat once more. But now, there was no hint of that sadistic chuckle that Reaper tended to possess. Now, McCree could see the fury present in his former commander’s scowl, as he gasped for air once again.

…happy now, Jesse?” Even without the mask, Gabriel’s voice still carried that dread layer of death in his tone, his eyes burning with such fierce hatred. “You get to look your killer in the eye.” This was punctuated by the man once known as Gabriel Reyes slowly choking McCree, the rage he carried making him forget his firearms for a moment.

And that was thankfully what McCree needed in this scenario. “…I told you… I ain’t goin…’ to Hell today.” As he managed to utter those few words, Jesse swiftly swung a fist for Gabriel’s unprotected gut, knocking the wind out of him just enough to loosen his grip. McCree knew that continuing the fight would be pointless, so all he could do was push Reaper back, causing him to stumble for but a moment.

The shock of learning Reaper’s identity was thankfully overwritten by his base instinct to survive; rather than ask questions, McCree just snatched his discarded Peacemaker, and made a break for the diner’s exit. He pulled the rim of his hat down to block the piercing rays of the sun, just as he heard the pellets of shotgun shells blazing behind him, narrowly getting out of their line of fire.

McCree doubted that anyone would believe him, if he told them what he had learned that fateful day at the diner. Gabriel Reyes was announced dead in the ruins of Overwatch’s headquarters, alongside Jack Morrison. Who in their right mind would believe that he was now a literal dead man walking, hunting down his former comrades for some unknown reason?

Regardless of reason, however, McCree knew only one thing, as he limped away from the near-fatal battle he suffered. Gabriel Reyes was indeed dead, that much was given. But the being he had become in death, though it took on his guise, was not one to reason with. If the Reaper intended to bring death to Overwatch…

…then McCree would do what he could to deliver a final death to Gabriel Reyes. Even if it would kill him too.

kouhai-tachi  asked:

|Finally, she is alone...| He signaled his men to toss the gas grenade, and soon the woman was unconscious, despite her best efforts. He grinned. "You know where to put her." She was soon strapped down to a metal table in a place far beneath the surface of the ground. A man with long silver hair and a red suit stood over her, grinning and waiting for her to wake.

When she woke up, the first thing she could feel was cold metal against her skin. She opened up his eyes, trying to figure out where she was, but she couldn’t recognize anything besides some restraints holding her wrists, neck and ankles.

“ Aaah, not this shit again… ” she sighed, thinking that was just one of her customers wanting to play the dom/sub game. It happened a few times before.
“ How many times do I have to say that BDSM play costs more than usual service and must be reserved first? ” she scoffed “ Come on , untie me now so we can discuss the parcel ”

- Reina

Top Gun - Sam Wilson

N/A: Okay, maybe this is how Sam and (Y/N) got together before  Honey Air Force happens, but you can read it without knowing the HAF story! 


“C’mon, bastards! Move your damn ass!” 

Your angry scream being almost drowned out by the noise of the shooting, you lifted your torso a little bit so you could take a look over the destroyed wall that you were using as a barrier. You and your unit were surrounded, it was a damn trap and you weren’t the one to blame. The person that needed to be rescued was a moron playing double agent, because of him four of your men were dead now. You ended that shit with a bullet between his eyes. Okay, not the best choice, but you and your guys were feeling a lot better. Until the enemy came. You glanced at one of your partners and raised a brow, he shook his head but you ignored him. You got a gas grenade and threw against the enemy, a cloud of smoke rose between, giving an opportunity to your unit retreat to an abandoned building.

“We need to go back to our fucking location. Did you contacted them, Peter?” you said hoarsely, taking your sunglasses and putting in one of your pockets before reloading your M4 carbine. 

“Yeah, boss! A unit from 58th Rescue Squadron is coming! But we need to keep going to our location like right now.” Peter hissed, pointing toward the smoke almost gone and the others’ movement. 

This wasn’t a training, you couldn’t lose anyone else. With a nod, you and the two men remaining from your unit ran across the abandoned building, ignoring the sound of shooting and explosions behind you. Climbing over the ruined fence, you continued to run while using everything that could as a barrier. Thomas, the second in command, found a car almost destroyed, but it could work for what they needed. Peter threw two grenades toward the enemy and you felt your heartbeats on your ears.

“C’mon, Thomas! We aren’t getting any younger here!” you exclaimed, getting into the car along with the others at the same time that Thomas finally started the car.

After managing to retreat and get the fucking bastards of your tail, you discharged the car from the road and kept walking through the desert to where your plane was shot down. Peter gave little taps on your shoulder and you chuckled humorlessly. All of you looked and felt like trash. You couldn’t yet mourn the death of your friends, you still needed to wait for the fucking rescue.

“Can you hear that, (Y/N)?” Thomas smiled relieved as he looked at the blue sky.

You didn’t say a word while your eyes searched the sky trying to find the helicopter and a tired smile took your lips when you saw it. As the wind from the propellers and the loud noise of the huge machine came close, the three of you got ready to climb. Two soldiers of the 58th Rescue Squadron came down and identified themselves, but suddenly your eyes were focused and one person in particular. A soldier that was holding his gun and guarding the perimeter. For a brief moment, your mind went blank and you forgot where you were.

“Boss, his name’s Sam Wilson. I trained with him before joining our squadron.” Peter whispered closely and giggled when you frowned at him “Don’t look at me like that, let’s go home.”

Sam took a deep breath, trying to keep cool as he watched her fight with other soldiers. (Y/N) were one of the best of the base, doing everything that she could to accomplish her mission. She could be used as the face of 26th Special Tactics Squadron. He grinned proudly when (Y/N) threw another man on the ground, she shrugged when a round of applause echoed while the girl walked off. 

“Hey, honey!” she hummed happily as soon she saw Sam waiting for her, jogging towards him, she hugged the black man tenderly before pulling away “You look good! Where are you going?”

“A new mission, I came here just to say a little hello.” Sam scratched his neck awkwardly, but (Y / N) just smiled even more.

They became very close after that day where Sam helped to rescue (Y/N) and what remained of her unit. Sam was right there when she had to call to the family of the fallen and when she got back from a meeting with her superiors. (Y/N) wasn’t ashamed of crying in front of him and that made Sam understand how strong she was. But what started a partnership, where both of them could rely on every time they got a bad mission or felt miserable, soon became something much more. And on that particular Wednesday, Sam decided it was the right moment to express out loud what he was feeling. He smiled his boyish smiled and hugged (Y/N) thigh before kissing her forehead.

“I need to save the day. But, when I get back I wanna talk to you.” he said quietly and she nodded.

“Aye, sir! Just came to my room, I’ll be waiting”

(Y/N) was anxious, she didn’t have anything to do while she waited for him. Her heartbeat was as crazy as her mind was. She couldn’t stop thinking of him. It took just 3 months to Sam swipe her heart away. In the midst of all that war and all that death, she had found her point of peace. She had found her love. Almost 5 hours later, a faint knock at the door called (Y/N) from her book. She put her reading at the table when she got up from the bed and went straight to the door, swinging it open. But her smile faded when she saw Sam crying.

“What happened?” she quickly got him inside and closed the door, guiding him to her bed as she tried to calm him down.

“I couldn’t save him. I was just there to watch him die!” he repeated again, looking into her eyes without fear of showing his pain “I can’t doing this, (Y/N).”

“So don’t do it, Sammy.” (Y/N) whispered weakly, trying not to cry too.

“Will you… Will you stay with me?” Sam was no longer sure of anything, he was tired and with a pain in his chest that wouldn’t so soon disappear.

“I won’t go anywhere, Sammy. I’m… I’m in love with you.”

“I love you too, babygirl.”

The girl smiled bittersweet, it wasn’t that type of intimacy that she planned for them both. But life was always quite cruel to them. She leaned close to him, putting a hand to his chin to make him face her, they were silent for a brief second before Sam closed the distance to kiss her lips. 


The KS-23 Shotgun,

One of the most unique shotguns in the world, the KS-23 was a pump action shotgun developed by the Russians in the 1970’s.  Originally issued to Russian prison guards as a riot gun, the most unique feature of the KS-23 was its large bore, 23mm, or 6.27 gauge in American/British standards.  This was because the KS-23 was primarily created to fire less-than-lethal rounds that could easily put down a violent prisoner.  In addition the barrel with rifled instead of smoothbore, allowing the KS-23 to accurately fire less-than-lethal projectiles such as rubber slugs, plastic slugs, flashbang grenades, and tear gas grenades.  The KS-23 also fired various buckshot shells and a special metal slug designed to destroy the engine block of a vehicle.  Interestingly, the barrels for the KS-23 were produced from 23mm anti-aircraft reject barrels. Because of the large size of the KS-23’s 6 gauge shell, its tube magazine can only hold three rounds.

The KS-23 came into common use during the 1980’s.  It continues to be used by Russian law enforcement today.  Smoothbore civilians models have also been produced.