#🗡 [ calm down. MUSINGS ] 🗡

[survivaltrickcd]

@foxend

[almostprime]

🗡.

  « MEME┇🗡Give my muse the option to face up to three tortures on this list, or else they will hurt someone they love. »

      ❝ go ahead, smokescreen. tell me how i should punish you. ❞

the brig’s dim, blue lights reflected from smoked finish, creating an aura of the borealis within his paint. doorwings trembled low upon his spinal column, his frame deceiving his futile attempts to remain calm, and appear unbothered by intimidation tactics. however, given the situation, smokescreen could no longer push his fear aside for the blinding urge to prove his worth. to make optimus proud, to... belong somewhere for the first time in his entire existence. the warlord knows where their base is. megatron was no stranger to deception, the young autobot was knowledge of that. however... the innocent, naïve youngling was easily swayed, processor crumbling with the unanswered “what if’s”. there was no escape, no getting around what was to come.

nonvoluntarily, smokescreen found himself backing away, optics lowered to avoid looking at the monstrous incarnate before him. his spark palpitated, haywire within his chassis. instinct told him to fight back, to run, to hide. plead for mercy. get away, escape. but there was no other option, logically speaking. drain me of my energon... lock me in the dark, promise me methods of torture beyond belief. terrify me. break me down, piece by piece. that was what smokescreen thought he himself could handle, it was tamer than any other unimaginable pain. that was what smokescreen wished to say. so his mouth opened.

     ❝ get fragged, you’re lying! ❞  his voice raised, fear driven. shrill and echoing off the walls, entire frame shaking with rage and... more so fear. it shown all over his body. smokescreen was not one to be able to hide how he felt... it was written all over his fascia. a sneer curled his lip, a hint of glistening lubricant within his optics,  

❝ there’s nothing you can do to me that i can’t handle. you. don’t. scare. me. ❞

[ask-thedepressedkidatthetable]

🗡 (dork-in-a-trenchcoat lol)

Send “🗡” for my muse’s reaction to finding yours has been stabbed.

@dork-in-a-trenchcoat​

“No!” Alex shouted, running toward Cas, trying to run into his aggressor before they could move but he was too late and Castiel fell. Alex threw a knife at the other, having a surprisingly good aim as the blade sank into their shoulder, spilling blood.

Good. They deserved it as far as Alex was concerned. “Cas, buddy?” Alex asked, turning to Cas, gasping softly despite himself as he looked down at the mess of red that was staining Cas’s shirt. “Well, this is better than you being stabbed with an angel blade, yeah? Those things are nasty.” Alex said, quickly lifting Cas’s shirt up to look at the wound, getting a kind of calm anger in the situation. “.  .  .I’m gonna take my chances before this bleeding gets any worse, yeah?” It was already ripping, which gave Alex a hint that Castiel was cut with a sharp blade. Which was good. It gave them a better chance of the wound being as clean as it could be at this point. Alex looked around them as he sealed Castiel’s wound with superglue, glad that he carried around a kind of instant solution to their problem. “Hey, we’re getting out of here. It’s probably not going to be fun. Let Sam and Dean deal with this bastard, alright?” He asked, lifting the other up, partially supporting him. “You’re my friend Cas. You come first.”