#alt adrenaline crash
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hello-gloomy ¡ 17 days ago
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Not the original plan
Knockout x Femleaning!Reader
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Description: Discovering who Knockout really is leads to some heartfelt feelings being shared between the two of you.
Warnings: Slightly suggestive towards the end, but sfw. Almost accident mentioned, Slight exhibitionism but no nsfw just making out. Anxiety mention, vomit mention, fear mention.
A/N: I didn't mean for it to get horny with him but it just jumped me and I went with it. Lmao forgive me for I have sinned.
Words: 585
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You were gripping your Polaroid camera so hard out of fear. Terrified and several feet off the ground, you didn't know whether to scream or start begging to be put down. Knock out the person, well, thing more like, that you thought was just a street racer and not some alien-transforming car. He was currently holding you by the back of your sweater while looking at you after he saved you from another car crashing into you. You wonder if he can hear how hard your heart is beating in your chest or how much you are trembling in his grip.
"Relax, sweet spark; I'm not gonna hurt you." He coos at you sweetly with a slight purr from his engine; he wraps his servo around your torso and holds you closer to his chassis while walking to a sitting spot.
"This is not how I wanted to tell you about this." He jests, trying to calm you down some more. When he takes a seat, he holds you in his lap, petting you like a scared rabbit. He watches your face and offers you a sweet smile, and you do your best to return it without vomiting from adrenaline.
"Does this mean you'll take me on a joyride now?" you ask without thinking; he blinks and chuckles at you. "Of course, I will doll face, especially since I don't have to hide this from you now." His servo caresses your face gently, and you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. The warm and smooth metal of his hand finally calms your racing mind. He hums a minor tune as you melt even more into his soft touch.
"I can't wait for you to meet Breakdown now. He's been having to hear me talk about it for weeks." He ex-vents deeply while holding you closer to him, still petting you. You open your eyes and look up at him innocently; he meets your gaze and holds it briefly before bringing you closer to his faceplate. He brings you closer to his intake and kisses you softly, giving you room to push him away. You reciprocate, and he becomes a little more assertive in his kisses; he moves your sweater up and starts to kiss your skin, giving little nips and licks with his glossa. Giving him little mews of pleasure in return for his attention to your chest.
"Knockout, what if someone sees." You whimper out to him, gently pushing at his faceplate to get him to listen to you; as much as you enjoy this, you'd rather not have someone watch the two of you with whatever you call this. He lets out a hum and rubs his enstril against your exposed skin. His deep red optics open and stare intensely at you, slightly narrowed with lust. You bite at your lip and caress him again. He sighs, fixes your clothes, and gives you one more kiss before putting you back in his lap. With your heart beating wildly again, you sit silently before Knockout breaks the silence.
"Do you wanna return to your house, or should I take you on that joy ride?" He suggests. And you light up at the second option. He chuckles at your perkiness and sets you down on the ground before shifting into his alt-mode and revving his engine. You giggle and hop in the driver's seat, and he wraps the buckle around and shoots off into the night with you smiling all the way.
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whumpay ¡ 9 months ago
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babe wake up new whumpay prompts dropped. like last year, im posting early for more time to prepare
Welcome to Whumpay 2024! Up above you will see the basic prompt list and down below the cut you will see it written out in a list, as well as three mini challenges (and by extension, the extreme edition)
Rules are the same as usual
You only have to use one (Or two, if you’re doing the extreme edition.) prompt a day! But you’re welcome to use multiple if you want to, and it still counts for both.
I know the description of the blog says it’s a writing event, but if you want to draw or make other kinds of content, that’s cool too.
Have fun, tag content warnings (such as noncon, graphic violence, etc) and try not to be crushed by the mortifying ordeal of posting your writing.
This is a pretty chill event so you can start posting whenever but I’ll be reblogging posts made to the #Whumpay2024 tag throughout May. For real this time.
These all also apply to these three special mini challenges, consisting of a 7 day, a 10 day, and a 14 day prompt list.
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EXTREME EDITION: This year's extreme edition doesn't have its own prompt list, but instead, youll be taking all three mini challenges in order along with the main prompt list. Some of these fit pretty well, others less so.
1 - Mad Science:
Day 1: Strapped To An Operating Table
Day 2: Paralytic Drug
Day 3: Made A Lab Rat
Day 4: Vivisection
Day 5: Truth Potion/Serum/Spell
Day 6: Russian Roulette
1 - Attacks, Mental & Physical:   
Day 7: Heart Attack
Day 8:  Asthma Attack
Day 9: Animal Attack
Day 10: Panic Attack
3 - Ineffective Medical Care:
Day 11: Medical Torture
Day 12: Withholding Medical Treatment
Day 13: Medication Tampering
Day 14: Injury Brushed Off
Day 15: No Anesthetic
4: Mindfuck
Day 16: Presumed Dead
Day 17: Memory Loss
Day 18: Stockholm Syndrome
Day 19: Phantom Pains
Day 20: Love Potion/Spell
Day 21: Role Reversal 
5. Nature's Revenge
Day 22: Slowly Running Out Of Air
Day 23: Natural Disaster 
Day 24: Struck By Lightning
Day 25: Snowed In
Day 26: Heatstroke
6. Traps & Trauma
Day 27: Caught In A Net
Day 28: Traumatic Touch Aversion
Day 29: Used As Bait
Day 30:  Flashbacks
Day 31: Choose Who Lives
Mini challenge #1: Torture
#1: Tortured For Information
#2: Whipping
#3: Branding
#4: Begging To Be Killed
#5: Recorded/Broadcast Torture
#6: False Execution
#7: Shock Collar
Mini Challenge #2: Dialogue
#8: “Why are you doing this?”
#9: “Don’t look.”
#10: “You look awful.”
#11: “Who did this to you?”
#12: “No one is coming for you.”
#13: “No one cares about me.”
#14: “Don’t lie to me.”
#15: “Stay with me, please.”
#16: ”You’re scaring me!”
#17: “You’re a monster.”
Mini Challenge #3: Aftermath
#18: Fighting Against Caretaker 
#19: Seeking Revenge
#20: Taking The Blame
#21: Barely Conscious
#22: Disassociation
#23: Carried To Safety
#24: Scars
#25: Unhealthy Codependency 
#26: Infected Wound
#27: Survivor’s Guilt
#28: Touch Starvation
#29: Abandonment Issues
#30: Cradled In Someone’s Arms
#31: Adrenaline Crash
Alt Prompts:
Death Game
Came Back Wrong
Attack The Injury
Healing Malfunction
Left For Dead 
Mistaken Identity
Dazed
Trapped Under Rubble
Drowning
Disowned By Family
Hostage Situation
Have fun everybody!
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tildeathiwillwrite ¡ 5 months ago
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June of Doom 2024 Event Masterpost
@juneofdoom
Prompts List
"Help me." | Failed Escape (CW: running, caught in a net, attempted escape, captivity)
"It didn't have to be this way." | Scream (CW: mentioned death, gunshot wounds, deception, fire powers, swearing, revenge, death, whumper turned whumpee)
"Well, well, well...." | Ambushed (CW: kidnapping, attempted rescue, recklessness, breaking in, stealth, blood, chained by wrists, injury, gun, gunshots, threats)
"Does that hurt?" / Impalement / Punishment (CW: captivity whump, chains, team whump, multiple whumpees, caretaker turned whumpee, impalement, blood, magic whump, healing whump, magical healing, screams, separation, implied death)
"It's not as bad as it looks." / Swelling (CW: deception, sabotage, arguing, bruises, swelling)
"They don't care about you." / Flinch / Abandonment (CW: PTSD, breaking and entering, sabotage, self-deprecation, swearing, harsh words, denial, mentioned injury, crying)
Nightmare / Isolation / Stumbling (CW: nightmare, isolation, darkness referenced captivity, chains, hallucinations, panic attack, stumbling, questioning reality)
"This is your last chance." / Chair (CW: stealth, arguing, mentioned dissection, torture, rescue, passing out, chains, threats, pistol-whipping, implied drugging)
Alt: Whip (CW: captivity, gun mention, handcuffs, torture, caretaker turned whumpee, whipping, stress position, mentioned wounds, blood, blood loss, passing out, oxygen mask, ambulance)
"Can you hear me?" / Fear / Smoke (CW: fire, collapsing building, fatigue, magic exhaustion (in the superpowers sense), burns, dizziness, fear, adrenaline, cryokinesis, trapped, crying, guilt, resignation)
Bleeding Out / Collapse (CW: blood loss, collapse, blood, stitches, bullet wound, passing out)
"I can't stand seeing you like this." / Dehydration / Coma (CW: hospital room, coma, car crash mention, death mention, worry, mild dehydration, guilt)
"Wait!" / Sacrifice / Cornered (CW: attempted escape, chased, running, cornered, trapped, self-sacrifice, guilt)
"What were you thinking?" / Outmatched (CW: deception, thievery, being watched, monster, scratches, claw wounds, stress position, explosion, fire, book burning, arson, swearing)
Rescue / Presumed Dead (CW: swearing, death threats, referenced injury, secrets, collapsed building, paranoia, gun, unconsciousness, burns, handcuffs, ambushed)
"At least it can't get any worse." / Stranded / Setback (CW: car trouble, swearing, smoke, implied ambush, implied magic)
"You don't want to do that." / Struggle (CW: unconsciousness, imprisoned, headache, net, stress position, captured, multiple whumpees, blood, knife, reckless behavior, swearing, implied starvation)
"I'm fine." / Headache (CW: headache, stress position, nets, knives, rescue, starvation, captured, escape attempt)
"This can't be happening!" / Sobbing / Disassociation (CW: panic attack, crying, denial, manhandling, threats, power suppression cuffs, pistol-whipping, concussion, blood, PTSD, disassociation, captivity, separated)
"I can handle it." / Scrape / Neglect (CW: scrape, blood, anger, yelling, past abuse, past neglect, crying)
Trapdoor (CW: prison escape, starvation, thirst, knives, headache, nausea, pushing through the pain, frustration, swearing)
"What's the bad news?" / Cauterization (CW: naval battle, arrow wounds, leg injury, cauterization, fire powers, blood, screaming, medical whump, caretaker POV)
"You're doing great." / Trembling / Gaslighting (CW: captivity whump, concussion, blood, swearing, gaslighting, shouting, referenced torture, referenced abuse, helplessness, superpower whump, torture)
Blankets / Stitches / Bandages (CW: angst, nightmare mention, insomnia, captivity mention, scars, loneliness, PTSD, crying)
"I should have listened to you." / Guilt / Failure (CW: anger, fear, guilt, swearing, deception, choking, paranoia, last resort)
"Don't lie to me." / Rage (CW: reckless behavior, breaking and entering, hostage situation, knife, threats, swearing)
Defiance / Display / Last Resort (CW: choking, swearing, captivity whump, power suppression cuffs, scream, weapon, electrocution, unconsciousness, assumed death, shock, referenced injuries
"Say something." / Gag (CW: parting words regret, referenced argument, stubbed toe, darkness, bound and gagged, bruises, used as bait)
Alt: "I'm not okay." (CW: concussion, captivity whump, referenced injuries, delirious, swearing, bridal carry)
Shock (CW: shock, bullet wound, dizziness, stumbling, implied/referenced death, 911 call, passing out)
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dangraccoon ¡ 25 days ago
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Lost and Found
Day 16 ~ shivering ~ (alt. prompt)
Reader Echo/Reader
Word Count: 2039 Content: fem!reader (she/her pronouns, minimally described), references to human trafficking, being hunted, survival, escape, temporary non-verbal, exhaustion, prisoner of war, something similar to Leia's slave bikini; Horrible implications and references; 18+ Only; Minors DNI
Mando'a sarad - flower
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The ground beneath your feet seemed to shift, rising and falling like a breathing chest as the sound of the hunting party and the beating of your own heart filled your ears.
A root rose to trip you and you stumbled, catching yourself in a particularly prickly bramble.
“Kriff,” you swore under your breath; you were certain that anything louder would alert those who wished you dead.
Hissing at the pain of pulling yourself free, grimacing as the brush tore the thin, minimal clothing they’d dressed you in. You picked up your pace.
“Think she went this way!” you heard, far too close behind you.
You were tired. You were so tired. But you knew you couldn’t stop. No, the deep drive within you that screamed at you to escape and survive wouldn’t allow it.
So, you kept running. What you hadn’t anticipated, however, was that while running away from that hunting party, you’d run into another encampment.
Three blasters snapped towards you as you crashed into the small clearing.
You stumbled as your body came to a screeching halt, falling into the mud that covered most of your body.
You coughed violently as you fought to catch your breath, but your body still moved, scrambling up to stand, your open palms facing them in front of you. You tried to keep your eyes on the people before you, knowing they were the more present threat, yet you couldn’t help but steal glances behind you.
Something about the three armor-clad individuals whispered “safe” in your ears, though with the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you were having a difficult time putting the feeling into words.
Your face must have been betraying your emotions as one of the figures lowered their blaster and waved off the other two to do the same.
“Easy,” a deep, rough voice emanated from the dark helmet. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”
You were smart, you were educated. You knew every single one of those words. Yet the sentence seemed to make no sense. You hazarded a glance over your shoulder again.
“What’s out there?” another, sharper voice asked.
You looked between them, the fear that kept you silent as you ran still encircling your throat.
“It’s alright; we just want to help,” the third said. 
That voice. You knew that voice. Your eyes shot up to the man.
“Cl-clones?” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.
The second and third men looked at the first. He pulled his helmet from his head, tossing it to the second man. You’d expected a familiar face and were met with it, along with longer hair held back by a strip of red cloth and a skull tattoo.
“Yeah, we’re clones. My name’s Hunter. There are two more of us on our ship across the lake. We, uh, we look a little different, but we’re clones,” he said. You watched him remove a piece of armor on his shoulder. He showed you the embroidered fabric under it. It was that familiar cog that for so long had been a symbol of safety and freedom for your people. “See? We’re GAR.”
You felt tears start to drip down your face and the cool rush of relief extinguished the fire of panic. 
“Echo,” the clone called. The third man that spoke–Echo, you supposed–closed the few yards between you just in time to catch you as your legs finally caved against the pressure of the last few weeks. 
“I gotcha,” he said as the world spun around you. “You’re safe now.”
The sob that tore through your body was almost painful as your lungs balked at the concept of drawing in more air. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around Echo’s neck.
“Maker,” Echo hissed as he held you. “Hunter, there’s barely a stitch on her.”
“Let’s get her on the ship,” Hunter said. “Crosshair, keep watch. I’ll send Wrecker out with you. Make sure that… whatever was tracking her doesn’t get close.”
Crosshair nodded, tossing back Hunter’s helmet–bucket you remembered the clones calling them–and Echo looped an arm under your knees and carried you towards their attack shuttle. 
The final two men Hunter had mentioned met him at the stairs as he jogged ahead to meet them. You were sure they were asking questions and Hunter hadn’t had a chance to get the answers for them.
“Like Hunter said, I’m Echo,” he said, drawing your attention back. “What’s your name?”
Your mouth opened, lips just shaping into the syllable, but nothing came out. They pressed closed again, a frown pulling down along with your brow. 
“That’s alright,” he hummed. “Your voice’ll come back as you start to relax. It’s nice to meet you, though I wish it were under different circumstances.”
You wanted to tell him that you’d met clones before. You wanted to tell him everything that happened to you. You wanted to tell him thank you for the comfort and protection they offered you.
“I, um, I know it doesn’t work for mud as well as water would,” Echo said somewhat awkwardly. “But we’ve got a sonic on board. You can get cleaned up if you want?”
You looked down at your body. You could describe yourself as filthy head to toe, but that would be an understatement. Your eyes met his visor and you nodded, emphatically.
Echo chuckled a little. It was such a nice sound and it had been quite some time since you’d heard it. “Are you hurt?”
You nodded again, easily recalling every nick, scrape, scratch, and cut you’d accumulated since you were taken from your home. 
“Alright,” Echo said, his voice steady and sure now. “Sonic shower and then we’ll patch you up.”
You think you smiled, but with the way your face felt frozen–like it might be stuck in a perpetual state of fear–you couldn’t be sure.
“If you can’t tell me your name yet, we should probably think of something to call you until you can,” Echo hummed. “I’d offer to guess, but I’m truly terrible at it.”
You huffed a little and he looked down at you. “Sarad sound okay?”
You watched that emotionless helmet with curiosity, nodding a little.
As Echo brought you closer to their ship, you could see the other two clones, but you were starting to question if any of these guys actually were clones. The structure of Hunter’s face was too similar to what you remembered, and you realized now that pieces of their armor struck you as familiar when you’d first seen them. Echo sounded like the men you’d spent so much time with on your home planet, but you’d just begun to realize that one of his arms had been replaced with a cybernetic. You could see the end of it sticking out from beneath your shaking legs.
The other two were something else, however. You could barely see the trace of that endlessly replicated DNA in either of their faces. One was tall and lanky, like Crosshair out in the clearing. His hair was lighter and yellow-tinted lenses covered his eyes. 
The other, however, was huge. He towered over Hunter and the bespectacled clone, his bulky frame nearly twice that of the others. A scar spiderwebbed over the left side of his head, but as he looked past Hunter towards you, his lips pulled in a wide grin as he waved. 
Hunter got his attention once more, clearly instructing him to keep watch with Crosshair. He nodded, retrieving a large helmet with a painted face and a blaster from a nearby crate.
He nodded as he jogged past you and Echo. 
“That’s Wrecker,” Echo informed you. “He looks all big and intimidating, but he’s a big softie.” Echo tilted his helmet forward as if to point with it. “That one’s Tech. Genius in most things, but social cues aren’t one of ‘em,” Echo sighed with an exasperation you could tell emanated from his core. It almost made you laugh.
As you approached the ship, Hunter came to Echo’s side. “How are you doing?” he asked you.
You looked up at Echo, pleading with glassy eyes to help you explain.
“She’s having trouble with talking right now,” he said. Hunter nodded, his eyes warm with sympathy. 
Echo brought you inside, taking you directly to the refresher. He finally put you back down on your feet, holding onto you until you seemed steady enough. “Just, ah– knock if you need anything, okay Sarad?”
You nodded your thanks to him, stepping into the fresher, the door sliding closed between you.
You looked at your reflection in the small mirror and gasped. Your face was gaunt, eyes sunken in with dark bags beneath them betraying your exhaustion. You were practically coated in the mud you’d fallen into, and you knew beneath that was a layer of dust, dirt, and grime from your time imprisoned by your captors. Your body, typically covered by a healthy layer of fat, seemed to be missing that. 
Another sob dropped from your lips, but it was softer, quieter, less violent.
You reached behind your neck and back, untying that torn cloth that covered your breasts, the minuscule, mud-soaked fabric falling to the floor with a wet splat.
Next was the “skirt”. There was more volume to this item; it reached down to your ankles, but it was hardly more than two thin strips of fabric–one in front of you and one in back–attached to another scrap tied around your waist. 
You took a deep, shaky breath, letting it out slowly. 
As you reached for the shower knob, a voice from the other side of the door caught your ear. “Echo, we can’t just–”
“Why not? You saw her Hunter! Covered in dirt and blood, barely wearing a thing, sprinting through the woods on bare feet? Maker, Hunter, she hasn’t stopped shivering since we first saw her!” His voice dropped low, his tone almost mournful. “I know you know what happened to her.”
Hunter sighed. “I do, but we are here to–”
“Are we not soldiers of the Republic? Don’t we have a duty to its citizens? You saw how she looked when she saw the cog–when she found out we were clones! Sarad needs our help and we can’t just–”
“Echo,” Hunter growled, silencing the other man immediately. “I never said we wouldn’t help her. But we can’t forget we have a mission to complete before we can leave this hellhole of a moon.” Hunter sighed. “Alright, alright– just… stay here with her. We’ll… take care of it.”
By the time you’d stepped out of the shower, your skin finally warmed by the sonic vibrations, you were surprised to see a pile of black cloth sitting on the counter, with a scrap of flimsi sitting atop it. The script that adorned it was slanted and somewhat messy.
“You can wear these until we find something better. -Echo”
Once you’d dressed yourself in the surprisingly soft black undersuit, you pressed the button to open the door.
As it slid open, it alerted the man who had been pacing in front of the door. You recognized the rest of him, but you were somewhat surprised to see his face no longer hidden by the helmet.
A cyborg construct and deep scars wrapped around his head, the top of which was dotted with metal nodes. He looked up at you, a soft, warm smile on his face.
“Probably feels a lot better,” he said. You nodded. “I’ve got a medkit by the bunks. Hunter said we could use his for now.”
You followed him through the ship, your eyes flicking everywhere, but this time from curiosity rather than fear. 
Echo motioned for you to sit on one of the bunks while he opened the medkit, pulling various bandages and bacta out.
Still wordlessly, you showed him each of your injuries and watched in awe at how gentle and adept he was, despite being a soldier with one arm. 
“Anything else?” he asked, his voice soft as he finished wrapping your foot. 
You shook your head. Your jaw trembled slightly. “Th-thank you,” you mumbled.
Echo's eyes darted up to meet yours, his soft smile widening, and setting off a heat in your chest. “Of course, Sarad.”
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Thanks for reading! - River
Whumptober 2024 Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3
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Tags: @writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995 @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @Padawancat97 @flowered-bicycles @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902
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just-here-with-my-thoughts ¡ 2 months ago
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Crashing Hard
@summer-of-bad-batch week 13 alt prompt
Once more, not a full fic... but another prompt I have used as inspiration for an upcoming chapter of my WIP Adrenaline Crash: 5+1
Sneak peek below of Hunter's world crashing down around him... it won't be long before this chapter is posted, but if you need a further tease of the scene I'm writing, you'll find it in @carhorno's awesome art immortalising this moment!
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“Hunte… ah!”
His name is spoken with concern, but quickly tapers off in a cry of pain. Blood-scent hits the back of his throat, a familiar ferrous tang. It makes his tongue feel thick, forces him to swallow. The coiled spring of his energy snaps, stills him immediately as it winds down to nothing.
The room is heavy with overlayered scent, smoke and blaster fire and spilled booze and, yes, blood. Clone blood; he can taste it in the air.
Some of it is his.
But this new scent…
The cloud of adrenaline which floats his consciousness above his body dissolves, and he comes crashing back to his senses with a jolt.
Omega stands before him, intimately close. Wide-eyed horror paints her face as she gazes up at him, mouth working soundlessly.
What is she doing here? He put her in the tunnels. She’s meant to be with Echo.
He breaths harshly through his mouth. The air is soured by fear, and the briny rime of tears which well in Omega’s eyes.
A hollow pit opens up in Hunter’s stomach which threatens to consume him.
For an infinite moment which lasts a second, his eyes search hers; reading her soul, drinking in her terror. Then he drops his gaze.
He fears what he will see.
Knows, dreads, what he will see.
Forces himself to look anyway.
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Like the sound of this? You can find the Savage Hunter series on my AO3!
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witchofthesouls ¡ 2 years ago
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Team Prime learns (and maybe meets) some cryptids/urban legends
(Heads up, the last one includes death. It starts with "A wolf sits at the side of the...")
The less Ratchet thinks about the rude, little shit of a jackalope, the better off he is. It dented the side of his alt-mode, gouging deep as it insulted his intelligence when he pulled off the road.
To be fair, it's even smaller than a typical human and highly drunk as it slurred a warning about "idiot tourists staying after the sun sets" and "stupid big folk" and "Great Hunting."
It doesn't help that no one else believes him. Oh, sure: ghostly apparitions are fine, but a talking, big-antlered rabbit isn't?
The kids would roll their eyes and think he's trying too hard.
Optimus enjoys people-watching. He enjoys being part of the crowd. None distinguishable from the rest of the men when he uses his holomatter. There’s an old man that’s always at the bar. Hair long since grey, skin full of liver spots and translucent, back stooped, and yet he can out-drink everyone in the vicinity. His body is old and creaky, but his mind is still sharp, his tongue silver, and his hands fast on a fiddle.
Jack is his name. He’s well-acquainted with Optimus, who goes by Leo Cullen, as they struck up an odd friendship at the bar counter. Both are familiar with surviving in the true wild lands, with getting out of sticky situations and too-powerful authority figures, and ruminating on Gone Things.
Old Man Jack with his quick tongue and tired eyes carries a lantern carved from a turnip, and whenever the man and holomatter walk out together, Jack lights it up before his feet touch the ground outside.
Eventually, Optimus will be able to see how the shadows play with its light, the swirling color and shifting patterns on the turnip’s face, and Jack asks him:
“Did you make a piss-poor deal with the devil, too?”
On the outskirts of Jasper at the abandoned roads, there’s a different kind of race for a different breed of thrill-seekers, adrenaline junkies, and lost souls.
When the wind blows right and the night is dark, people race against the coyotes of dust and sand. With eerie eyes and haunting voices, they group together to form sandstorms as they chase after tires and wipe away the roads.
To the winners, howls will crown their victory as Jasper is right in their line of sight. To the losers, a storm will sweep over the area and wash all traces of the racer. Howls will welcome the newest member of the pack.
Arcee goes out there without anyone else and races. The sand scrapes over her plates, ghostly jaws snap over her tires, and her spark thrums wild as she cannot see anything in front, nor behind her, as the storm swallows her whole. 
She wins. She manages to overcome them and they howl at her victory.
Neither of them spoke of it, but when Bulkhead and Cliffjumper raced on an empty stretch of East coast highway under icy conditions, they saw a battle raging in the sea.
A massive serpentine shape with shades of onyx and midnight blues is wrapped around an equally massive squid-like form. Tentacles thrash, deadly hooks swirl within its suckers as it tries to puncture the serpent’s scales, and waves crash upon the rocky beach, the seawater rising high to meet the road. They see the foamy water pulling back and turning, turning, turning-
And then the serpent unhinges its jaw, wide enough to take a chunk out of the Ark, serrated and swordlike teeth gleam wickedly in the distance, and it sinks into the fat head and twists-
 The squid turns a ghastly white and the water calms as the victor and its prey disappear into deeper waters, the sea rippling and distorting before evening out.
“This planet has giant Quintessons.” This planet has a bigger critter that eats the giant Quintesson.” “Primus save us…”
A wolf sits at the side of the road. It’s the same wolf at the same point of the road, all the time, rain and shine. Bumblebee pulls over during his free time, and he notices it bleeding from its mouth and collar on its neck before it darts into the woods behind it.
Bumblebee doesn’t go after it because his comm rings and it’s Decepticon activity. He leaves and feels its heavy gaze upon his bumper.
The next time he stops, it’s still bleeding from its mouth and it moves to the tree line. It stops and looks back, beckoning him and Bumblebee follows.
The terrain is rough and there’s no set pavement, but he can handle it. It moves like the wind, speeding fast as it darts and weaves between trees.
If Bumblebee wasn’t a Cybertronian and so intuitively in control of his alt-mode, he would have run over the wolf that now lies on its belly on the ground.
His holomatter approaches slowly and it paws the ground, whining, pushing away the dead leaves and muck. 
Bumblebee digs deep and finds a familiar collar, he also finds bones and patches of faded cloth scraps.
He keeps tabs on the location’s local news when it finally breaks: an old couple gets their closure on their son and the family’s wolfdog that went missing decades ago. Fingers, adult ones, were stuck in the wolfdog's throat.
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yinsayshello ¡ 19 days ago
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Flying in the sky was always an exhilarating experience for the Seekers. The feeling of the wind blowing at them, the view of the world around them and the sense of freedom. Kinetic, the Half Seeker, yearned for the companionships and excitement they sought, yet felt the sting of being deemed as unable to fly without his alt-mode.
Currently fiddling with some sort of remote for flight position and speed controls, hovering on personally manufactured Jet Boosters high over rocky biomes, surrounded by the vast sparkling sea. The blue sky was clear and slightly cloudy, creating a nice atmosphere for the flight. He clicks his glossa in thought, adjusting the automatic system for the boosters, but it wouldn't work. Not too much of a problem though, he assumed. For starters, he was going to be operating it manually in this flight, as he set up his flight. The jet fuel on his boosters turned blue, indicating that they are activated.
Satisfied, he did some simple maneuvers in the air, swirling and accelerating occasionally, with gritted denta before determinedly plunging headlong to the crashing waves below, gaining his momentum and position just a few feet above the sea with calculated precision as he began to glide smoothly along the scenery. As he moved, he tentatively bent to an angle, letting one of his wings touch the cool waters below him that rippled and split at the contact of his wing, and the sensation was quite soothing.
He now sped up straight into a rocky mountain with a large crater in the center, the entrance beckoning him to enter. Wanting to test something, Kinetic switched the jets to position three, allowing him to maintain a steady and manageable speed as he approached the cavern. He glanced up and spotted a number of seagulls flying around the craters on the mountain peak, chirping and circling the air far above him. The sight of them darting around almost effortlessly made him frown slightly at his own situation.
As the Seeker successfully passed by the exit of the pit and the seas surrounded him again, a little more foggier than usual, Kinetic wondered what was wrong. Then his once-vibrant orange yellow optics slightly widened. Instead of the vast sea below, he found himself heading straight towards a whole rocky biome full of narrow passages. To top it off, it was obscured by thick clouds of fog, making the already precarious situation even more dangerous.
There was no time to stop or slow down, he was falling at an incredible speed, making it nearly impossible to decelerate to a complete stop. His systems hinted at a sense of panic as, in a calculated move, Kinetic pulled himself into a vertical position so that his wings provided resistance against the wind, cutting sharply in the air for support. The wind howled in his audials so loud and the speed was so incredible that the Seeker could not help but let out a fierce growl of exhilaration and adrenaline, his voice lost in the loud cacophony of the wind.
The rocky biome full of narrow passages was closing in on him at an alarming rate, towering up towards him, almost like some kind of death trap. Having quickly made his choice, Kinetic recklessly darted into the narrow passageways frantically, his dark wings adjusting to the sudden change of scenery with unexpected accuracy and speed.
The thick fog and narrow zig zag paths made maneuvering a challenge, but he couldn’t slow down or falter. Despite only having theorized it and not much experience of practical use, he didn't even need to glance at the remote in his servos, instinctively clicking the different buttons as necessary to adapt to the turns and sharp angles of the passageways, his earlier personal lecture notes on its functions now fresh in his processor.
In spite of his lack of experience in flight and the hazardous nature of the terrain, he focused on moving forward, flying at a swift rate and navigating the treacherous landscape like someone who had decades of flight experience, his optics scrutinized in intense concentration as he switched through different positions through the remote, his black wings cutting through the air like blades.
It was then that something caught his optics a little through the thick layer of fog: Even through his tremendous speed, he could almost see the vast sea once again on the other side now.
Kinetic, the Half Seeker, propelled himself through the last pit of the passage, finally bursting through with a sense of victory and relief. Once he was out, he slowed down to a normal speed, now gliding over the vast sea. He blinked his orange optics to adjust the sudden lighting as the cool breeze whistled past his frame, a stark contrast to the chaos he just went through. "I guess being reckless does help sometimes," He chuckled, recalling the rash antics of his amica at combat as he made his way back to Vos again.
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urfavenarrator ¡ 2 months ago
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~On the edge~
Alt tital: rooftop [Leo x Vincent] [rope work, stigmatophile, body worship, muscle worship, degradation and praise, oral fixation, some humiliation, soft dom/sub, slight comfort/low-key angry sex, impact play] [towards the end of the game, maybe even post cannon (if we say the rooftop scene never happens)] 
I forgot about the stigmatophile sorry pookie
Vincent held the gun in his hand and looked down at Leo, his body stuttered trying to breathe; he was bleeding from the earlier fight in the building. "Fuck," Vincent looked away, unable to look at the criminal in front of him. 
Vincent stood on the rooftop, the city’s lights flickering below like a sea of stars. The chill in the night air did nothing to ease the burning in his chest. He held the gun tightly in his hand, his fingers trembling despite his grip. Blood seeped through the fabric of his shirt from the gash on his side, a reminder of the brutal fight inside the building. 
Leo, sprawled on the cold concrete, looked up at him with a mixture of defiance and resignation. His suit was tattered, and the sneer that once adorned his face was now replaced by a painful grimace. Vincent could hardly meet his gaze. The weight of the decision he was about to make felt like an anchor dragging him down.
"Fuck," Vincent muttered, his voice cracking as he turned his head away from Leo’s piercing eyes. The sight of him, vulnerable and defeated, was almost too much to bear. He could still hear the echoes of their fight, the sharp retorts of gunfire, and Leo’s taunts that had once cut deep. But now, those words seemed distant, drowned out by the roar of Vincent’s own inner turmoil.
“I didn’t want it to come to this,” Vincent said, his voice barely more than a whisper, filled with regret. He took a deep breath, trying to steady the rapid beating of his heart. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a heavy exhaustion that made his knees buckle slightly.
Leo's eyes, though filled with pain, held a flicker of something akin to understanding. He had always been a step ahead, always knowing the dark paths Vincent would tread. “Do it.” Leo’s voice was raspy, but there was a strange calm in his tone. “If you’re going to pull the trigger, just get it over with.”
Vincent’s hand shook even more, the gun lowering as tears blurred his vision. He clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of the moment press down on him like a vice. He could no longer separate justice from vengeance. 
With a final, shuddering breath, Vincent dropped the gun to the ground. Leo took a tentative step forward, his eyes searching Vincent’s for any sign of lingering hostility. When he found none, he closed the distance between them and, without a word, wrapped his arms around Vincent in a tight, desperate hug. Vincent stiffened at first, unaccustomed to such an overt display of emotion, but then he relaxed, allowing himself to be held and to feel the warmth of his friend’s embrace.
“I’m sorry,” Vincent whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I let things get out of control.”
“Me too,” Leo replied, his voice muffled against Vincent’s shoulder. “But we’re going to be okay. We’ve always got each other’s backs, right?”
Vincent nodded. A lump formed in his throat. The hug lingered, both men holding on as if afraid to let go, afraid that the moment would slip away and leave them in the cold, harsh reality once more.
After what felt like an eternity, they pulled back, both a little embarrassed by the display but also feeling a weight lift from their shoulders.
“I think we need to get out of here,” Leo said, his voice lighter, almost teasing. “How about we find a place to crash for the night? Somewhere… quiet.”
Vincent smirked, the tension easing from his features. “Yeah, that sounds good. Let’s go.”
They left the rooftop together, the heavy silence of the city night enveloping them as they walked side by side. Neither spoke much as they made their way to a nearby motel, the neon sign flickering in the darkness like a beacon of hope.
Once inside the modest room, the door clicking shut behind them, a sense of calm settled over them both. The adrenaline that had fueled their confrontation had long since dissipated, leaving only exhaustion and the lingering remnants of their frayed emotions.
Leo flopped down on one of the beds, kicking off his boots and letting out a deep, weary sigh. "Man," Vincent had left for the bathroom for a medical kit; he came back a moment later. "I am exhausted."
Vincent chuckled softly, sitting on the edge of the other bed and running a hand through his hair. “No kidding.”
For a moment, they just sat there, the quiet between them no longer strained but comfortable. Vincent and Leon patching themselves up both had terrible aim, only grazing each other with bullets but.Eventually, Leo patted the space beside him, a small smile tugging at his lips. “C’mere. We could both use some rest.”
Vincent hesitated only for a moment before he joined Leo, lying down beside him. There was no need for words as they settled in, their bodies instinctively curling toward each other, seeking warmth and comfort.
Leo draped an arm over Vincent’s waist, holding him close as if to reassure himself that his friend was really there, alive and well. Vincent let out a contented sigh, his eyes slipping closed as he allowed himself to relax completely, something he hadn’t done in far too long.
“I’m glad we didn’t do anything stupid back there,” Leo murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, me too,” Vincent replied, his voice drowsy with exhaustion.
They lay there in the dark, the steady rhythm of their breathing the only sound in the room. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed them both, the weight of the day finally lifting as they found solace in each other’s presence.
In the morning, there would be time to talk, to sort through the mess they had made and figure out where to go from here. 
After a while of just lying there in silence, Leo made the first move; he snuck his hand to Vincent’s hip. "Leo, what the fuck are you doing?" Vincent huffed, opening his eyes and turning his head to the criminal; Leo was just rubbing circles into Vincent’s hip bone.
"You know... You're kinda," Vincent raised an eyebrow. "Pretty, i guess," Leo mumbled. Maybe he had lost more blood than Vincent originally thought. "Pretty? Your joking." "No, I'm not maybe not pretty, but you are attractive." Vincent still had an odd feeling about this, like something in his gut was just hit. Well, something hit a few hours ago, but that's not the point.
Vincent relaxed a little bit and just let Leo be touchy, then he felt it. "Please tell me you just brought a gun to bed." Vincent's grimace was evident in his voice. Leo moved a little closer, his nose grazing Vincent's neck. "Guess agian~" Leo purred his cold finger, touching the bandage around Vincent’s midsection; it was now covered in wounds, he said, because then again he had matching ones.
Leo bit Vincent's neck, surprised that Vincent didn't object or push him off; he sucked on the skin a little before pulling away and assaulting another bit of Vincent's neck. Leo sat up and moved in front of Vincent in between his legs. "What are you doing now?" His tone was harsh, but it lacked bite. "Youll see."
Leo unzipped Vincent's dirtied pants and pulled his boxers down a bit. He leaned down and took Vincent length into his mouth. He bobbed his head. Leo could almost feel his eyes roll to the back of his head as he started sucking, his tongue rubbing over the underside of the Vincent member. It felt good, almost soothing to Leo, a warm, heavy weight on his tongue, pinning it to the bottom of his mouth.
"... hmmm fuck, I swear to god you and your damn sucking fetish," Vincent groaned. Leo rolled his eyes but continued anyway.
Leo was melting under the attention, Vincent's rough grip in his hair, the heavy weight on his tongue, and his growing erection getting rubbed raw by the front of his jeans. Leo's pace slowed even more, until he was just sucking on Vincent Cock; it was a perfect fit for Leo's mouth. He started to palm himself while cockwarming the cop in front of him. His nose was pressed against Vincent's fupa as he undid his own pants while lazily sucking on Vincent.
Vincent grew tired of the slow pace; after a while, he pulled Leo off by the hair and turned him around. He helped Leo lay back on the pillows on the bed; he slid Leo's pants down to his midthigh. 
"Open," Vincent muttered, "eye-caps," "dont... just don't," Leo groaned, "your boring." Lep grabbed Vincent's hand and placed two of his fingers between his lips and started to suckle his tongue, sliding around, between, and over Vincent’s fingers. 
Vincent pulled his fingee from Leo's mouth much to the displeasure of the other man. He gently rolled Leo over and very slowly pressed one finger into Leo's ass, "Good, stay nice, and still for me." 
Soon he pushed a second finger in pumping them in and out before moving to sissor him slowly listening to Leo's soft groaning and grumbling. Vincent removed his fingers and said, "What? Hey, I wasn't done," Leo huffed. His agitation melted when Vincent pushed his length to Leo's ass. "Oh, shut up." Both men hissed at the friction. Leo's face was pressed to the bed as Vincent got a grip on his hair hanging. The only glue between the two was spit and a half-streched hole. 
After some time, Vincent pulled his belt out from his sagging jean loops; he pulled it around Leo's arm, making a handle of sorts to hold onto, and started to pump in and out. Leo snarled at the feeling but didn't say anything. He started to go faster, one hand on Leo's prominent hip and the other on Leo's head, shoving the younger man into the bed.
"Can you go any slower?" Leo growled, trying to enable Vincent, resulting in a slap. Vincent hit his hand against his bottom, earning a yelp out of Leo. "Hey!"
"Fuck you, fucking brat." Vincent grunted his hand and came into contact with Leo's ass again, leaving a stinging red mark in its wake. Leo was starting to tire a little, his wrist just starting to chaf from the belt. 
"Fuck," Leo groaned as his guts were rearranged; he felt a familiar coil in his loins; Vincent did too. Vincent huffed, trying to keep his pase; he was sweating in places he didn't know he could; it trickled down his plush stomach, dripping to Leo's equally sweaty body. Leo's face was red and hot, his neck from the pressure Vincent applied.
Leo was panting hard; his eyes clamped shut and eyebrows furrowed. "Mmm, sorry," Vincent said lazily, his pace slowed as he came filling Leo up. Leo followed quick, gasping from his exersion. Vincent stayed inside, removing his belt from Leo's wrists; they were red from friction.
Vincent leaned over, spooning Leo as he gulped in air. They were winded, sweaty, and tired; Leo was a little thirsty but didn't complain. Leo was the first to fall asleep, soon followed by Vincent, who half pulled the sheet over them.
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ao3wasntenough ¡ 4 months ago
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One shot. Magic sam in TLK when TRF ambush him, Cade and bumblebee. Note : Sam erase himself from all memories and tracks of humans (Just record I not really know why TRF attack bumblebee I meant bee is not in US, so he not broke law)
*thinking that when cemetery wind gone then everything will be 'normal' again well... No, the new team called TRF may not like cemetery wind that hunting all cybertron and they not really kill but in sam eyes they all no different. Like how they see all cybertron are bad, sam doing exactly like that*
Cade: put you gun away, or you will getting hurt
Soldier 1: we not afraid of you, you out of number
*Cade laugh with nervous and humorless*
Cade : I know but sometimes power not depend on number.
*after Cade say that , a man that look sick appear from no where, and all TRF soldiers lifted from ground and all their weapons dropped too*
Sam : you know, I am really waiting when you will starting broke you own rules to just for fear and hate... Well I am not disappointed
Cade: sam, erase they memories and let's get out of here
Sam : no, cade. These soldiers are same like cemetery wind... They broke they own rules for they own selfishness. I can't let them live
*sam eyes glowing then all TRF soldiers scream in pain. Bumblebee look worry *
Cade: sam, stop stop stop
*sam not seeing other soldier come close him*
Lennox: sam, stop. Let them go
*Sam look at Lennox his expression become soft and Sam stop what he was doing but the TRF soldiers still on air*
Sam : hello Lennox... Long time not see
Lennox: Sam, please let go of them
*Sam look Lennox uniform and from that Sam can guess Lennox is their superior, Sam face become hard again*
Sam : why should I? They the one come to us and they the ones that broke they own laws
Lennox: I know but Sam let them live
Sam : what guarantee this will not happening again?
Lennox: me. I will be guarantee for that I will make sure they will not touching you, your friends and Autobots but please let them live
*Sam looks at Lennox for a moments then all TRF soldiers fall on ground*
Sam : I warning you all (TRF soldiers) if you tell anyone about what I did to your superior I will make sure they will never find you. This is it threat, if this spread I will know who is the snitch.
*Cade pull sam to bumblebee alt mode*
Cade : come on sam, let's get out of here.
Lennox: sam... I am sorry
Sam : I know you are but... I am not
*TRF soldiers start to stand when Sam, Cade and bumblebee already far away*
Soldier 2: show that guy I never see him before.
Lennox: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? Doing catcher to place that where all cybertron free walking? Have you all lose your mind?
Soldier 3: we just-
Lennox: Just what? Huh?. Want getting more salary? Playing hero? Or for adrenaline?
Soldier 4 : sir, they are all bad
Lennox: you know nothing. They like us, can be good and bad
Soldier : are you gonna report the man that lift us from ground with his mind?
Lennox: No. If I do that that's meant you all just broke law and it's make big problem, besides the guy will know
Soldier 5: so you scare with sick guy threat?
*Lennox laugh *
Lennox: oh, you have no idea who just almost killed you and I know that guy it's not giving threat, he give us promise
*that make all TRF soldiers nervous and decided to keep they mouth shut*
*Lennox look at a bracelet that Sam gave him years ago as protection from supernatural creatures. He sad that now he and Sam have different paths, he just hoping their paths are not crashing*
sam witwicky fleshiest threat to both Humans and Decepticons, except he has more patience for Decepticons
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rainswhenyourehere ¡ 11 months ago
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⋆ i will gladly join the fight ⋆
characters ☆ alexander hamilton, george washington, john laurens, marquis de lafayette pairings ☆ alexander hamilton & john laurens, alexander hamilton & marquis de lafayette, alexander hamilton & george washington
tws ☆ minor mentions of gun violence, blood, stabbing
whumpcember day 4. hidden injury (+ alt 1. stabbed ) medical inaccuracies beware (idk how injuries work help/hj)
fic under cut
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
“Raise a glass!” someone in the crowd shouted, and John shoved Alexander, who looked back with a grin on his face.
The energy in the room was positive, something it rarely was nowadays. However, the soldiers gathered there had just won a battle, ‘absolutely slaughtered’ the British, according to someone. On top of that, no one had been injured badly, so it wasn’t a surprise that spirits were high. Even Washington was laughing, congratulating his soldiers.
“Colonel Hamilton!” someone called, and John watched Alexander smile, the warm sunlight streaming in glowing on his face. Alexander had led the troops, had planned the attack. The whole battle had been won mostly due to his efforts. Washington had finally given him a chance and he had made sure to take it.
“Give us a speech!” another voice urged, several others joining in. Something flashed across Alexander’s face as the others pushed him to the center of the room, giving him a cup of wine from the bottle specially opened for the occasion. Pride, perhaps, John assumed, cheering with his fellow soldiers.
Eventually the room fell silent, everyone awaiting Alexander’s words. However, Alexander seemed unresponsive, his eyes staring into the distance. John furrowed his eyebrows, confusion and worry mixing.
“Is it just me or does he look kind of… how you say, pale?” Lafayette pitched in, whispering into John’s ear. He had barely had the time to finish before the cup in Alexander’s hands tipped and clattered to the floor, the sound echoing, the wine spilling out. Quiet murmurs circled the room as Alexander swayed on his feet.
“Shit,” John cursed, rushing to his feet, starting to push through the crowd. He could see Washington doing the same, but neither of them were fast enough to get to the younger before he fell forward, his knees buckling as he crashed to the floor.
✮
Alexander did his best not to wince, to turn his grimace into a grin as John shoved him. Now that the adrenaline was fading, the stab wound in his side throbbed with pain, making him dizzy and nauseous. The suffocating heat in the room, accompanied by loud noises and bright lights certainly weren’t helping.
They had won the battle, though — that was all Alexander had wanted. Maybe now Washington could see that he was more than just a secretary, that he was also a soldier. And a good one. After all, his plan had succeeded. They had caught the British by surprise, just like in his calculations, completely overpowering them. Due to his carefully orchestrated attack, no one had had serious injuries. Except him.
Alexander remembered that sugar high he had been riding on, adrenaline pumping in his veins. He had shot one redcoat, turned around for a while. And then the sharp pain had invaded his senses, causing him to pause. Seemed like the redcoat had gotten his revenge, inserting a dagger and pulling it out of Alexander's body just before dying. Alexander remembered taking deep breaths while gawking at his wound, a trickle of blood flowing out.
Having done some medical research, he had known that the spot wasn’t fatal. He had known that he could carry on until the battle was won, and he had planned to get the wound checked out after that.
But then he had heard that no one else had been injured, and though somewhere deep down he knew it wasn’t true, a voice in his head kept telling him that he was weak, that he was worse than the others. That if he told the others about his injury now, he would never lead another battalion again.
So he had hidden it, covered it with his coat. The adrenaline had helped with masking his pain, but now it made his head swim. Never mind that, he was fine. He had to be fine.
Someone called his name, and he managed a smile, hoping that it came forward as determined. He made out the word ‘speech’ before the crowd moved, pushing him forward. He couldn’t stop his face from distorting for a split second, people shoving at his wound, increasing the pain. A glass was pushed into his hands and then he heard silence fall.
Shit. He was probably supposed to say something. Alexander struggled to form a coherent thought, his fingers slipping. A loud, sharp clash was heard along with liquid sloshing around. Alexander was too out of it to recognize what was going on, but a small voice inside him told him that he had fucked up.
And then his world faded to black.
✮
“Alex!” John shoved the last people out of the way, rushing towards Alexander. Only when he kneeled down next to him did he realize how pale Alexander was, how drops of sweat gleamed on his forehead. “Oh god, Alex, wake up.”
Washington came to his side, lifting Alexander so he was leaning against him while John checked his pulse. However, he paused upon seeing his hands come back red. Frozen with shock, his eyes flickered around Alexander’s body until they landed at his side. The jacket had been pushed away, and now revealed a dark red spot. John brought one hand up to his mouth.
“What is it?” Washington asked, and John could only point at the injury, his hands shaking. His vision grew blurry as Washington gasped, lifting Alexander’s shirt to take a closer look at what seemed to be a stab wound.
John inhaled sharply, bile rising in his throat. How could’ve he not noticed? God, he had probably made it worse, shoving and shouting and— oh, he was such a shitty friend. He shook his head, thoughts ringing in his ears. He needed to get it together, he wasn’t the one that was hurt.
“Is he— is he going to be alright?” he asked, his voice shaky as Washington examined the wound, worry coating his face. The commander let out a sigh.
“I don’t know, Laurens,” he said as a doctor rushed to their side. “I hope so.”
John looked away as the doctor got to work, doing his best to keep down the alcohol he had just consumed. He had never had his way with wounds, the blood and flesh always nauseating.
That’s when he noticed how quiet it was. Scanning around, he noticed Lafayette and a few other soldiers hanging back, radiating unsure and tense energy. The rest of the soldiers had left – thank god.
“Jack?” a weak voice catched his attention, and he spun around. Alexander’s eyes were barely open, the look in them glazed.
“Alex,” he replied, placing one hand on Alexander’s shoulders, who shivered and hissed in pain.
“‘m sorry,” Alexander slurred, filling John with despair. “Was… I was… weak. Couldn’t— no one— no one else got hurt.”
Every word he took drained him a little of his energy, leaving him panting. John wanted to say something, anything, but to his horror, Alexander closed his eyes again, his head dropping down.
“Alex?” John called out, but his friend had turned unresponsive again. John turned to the doctor, who sighed.
“The wound isn’t infected,” he started. John let out a breath of relief and Washington’s muscles relaxed a little. “But I suppose the pain he’s feeling is quite intense, hence the passing out.”
“How– what can we do?” John cut in, leaning forward. The doctor took out a bottle of alcohol, some tissues and bandages.
“I’m going to disinfect the wound, but I suggest turning away if you’re sensitive,” he simply said, and John flushed with embarrassment, biting down on his lip as he obeyed.
Then he heard liquid slosh, and the next moment Alexander was screaming. With a quick motion, John turned around, his breath catching in his throat as he saw Alexander’s body shake with pain, his eyes half-open, tears streaming down his cheeks. The doctor was pressing something to his wound, and Washington had his arms wrapped around Alexander, whispering into his ear as he kept the younger in place.
John clenched his eyes shut, Alexander’s screams filling his head. Seeing Alexander in that state was hell, and he felt tears brimming in the corners of his eyes. God.
“John,” a voice tinged with a french accent called, and he felt a steady hand placed on his shoulders. Opening his eyes, he looked at Lafayette, who was surprisingly calm. Unlike him. “Shh, calm down. He’s going to be fine, you know he is.”
John nodded stiffly, his breathing shaky. He knew Alexander wouldn't succumb to some stupid injury, but him surviving seemed so unrealistic, with those screams tearing their way out of his throat— and then they stopped.
John lifted his head with a start. The doctor had moved on to wrapping Alexander’s side with some bandages. Washington’s grip had loosened, but his whispers hadn’t ceased as he continued to hold Alexander, who was unconscious again. John forced himself to take deep breaths, resisting the urge to wrap Alexander in a hug.
“That should do it,” the doctor said, standing up. “His pain should start fading soon. Just make sure he gets a lot of bed rest and doesn’t move around.”
Washington nodded, picking Alexander up. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, sir,” the doctor bowed before leaving, the tenseness in the room fading too. Washington sighed, motioning for John and Lafayette to follow as he made his way to the three’s sleeping quarters, placing Alexander down on his bed.
“Watch him for me, yeah?” he asked, receiving two nods. “Come inform me when he’s awake, I’d like to talk to him about… hiding injuries.”
“Yes, sir,” Lafayette said, and Washington walked out the door, closing it softly after him.
That’s when John allowed himself to cry, a shaky exhale followed by soundless sobs. Lafayette wrapped his arms around him, his body shaking too.
“We failed him, Laf,” John choked out. “He was in pain and discomfort and I– I fucking shoved him, Laf. Fuck.”
“Je sais,” Lafayette answered, his voice small. “Je sais.”
“No,” John opened his eyes upon feeling a weak grasp on his hand. Alexander hadn’t opened his eyes, but his lips were moving. “Isn’t your fault. M’sorry.”
John could only sigh as Alexander drifted to sleep.
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mydr3aminvi0let ¡ 5 months ago
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oh word you bitch made boy ima make you stand on it. we have nothing left to lose im going to crash out over this one. now you can play the victim and call me a whore even though a.) i never fucked you b.) my body count is 3 c.) they've always been boyfriends only d.) you told me your body count was over a hundred in 2021. i could never even aspire to be a whore like you. love how that's your default insult because you can't imagine someone NOT resorting to whoring because that's all you know how to do. you can't control your dick, your mouth, your feelings, what the fuck is left. you're a fucking child. when you have enough money after your herpes medication and molly consider investing in therapy for your NPD. you're not going to find the validation you need in alt right adjacent circles knowing damn well they will never accept you because you're not white. you're not an idiot you could do so much with your life if you just got a fucking grip and would realize you don't need external validation. but nooo you're at war with yourself and wanna take it out on everybody. feigning moral superiority to argue with randoms for the adrenaline or insulting the last person who gave a genuine fuck about you. you could use your energy and knowledge in ways that could make you money from said interests but idc fuck around. i didn't need shit from you i have everything i need just wanted to see you do good for yourself because i met you in the trenches. going out sad.
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benefits1986 ¡ 11 months ago
Text
Anhedonia Anonymous
After addiction and adrenaline, will losing anhedonia be in my 2024 reliving win?
Several times the past months, I've been asked straight up and subtly about my head space as well as my darkest thought --unliving. Honestly, while I deflect them as I dress to the nines, this time around my unlikely friend Matthew is with me in spirit. It's not easy to be asked questions I do not want to answer, however, sabi nga ni Dumbledore, ask for help. Always. It's not easy to ask for help especially when I've been fighting a good fight as an undetected lone wolf who is learning more and more about addiction and adrenaline. Pleasure and pain are the same in my book. Pleasure and pain have the same high for me. Pleasure and pain have the same crash after the high for me. Winning and losing are the same for me, too. Validation and invalidation do not matter to me.
UGH. Ang aga-aga, girl. Eto ka na naman.
This Q4 2023, I find myself cornered with my back against the cold, hard wall in as far as CTRL + ALT + DEL feelings of pain and pleasure are concerned. I really didn't expect this to come like a hard punch in my ego and my hidden dark heart, because anhedonia is my cup of matcha and my goblet of sangria.
While laughing out loud makes my tummy and core gassy, I now indulge in it like deep, dark chocolate that I rarely come across with. While crying is nowhere near my to-do list because I feel like I'm being overexposed, I am left with no choice but to give it a go. Kahit sobrang pigil talaga, wala e. Sagad levels is realzzz.
It's not easy to name anhedonia, after 11 years of asking question as I try to answer questions, too; here we are in this very flawed, and very real world.
Yesterday was very, very, very curious. We had a session that involves revealing our talents based on a well-grounded study and theory. Though tanong ko pa rin: who is behind the father of this test? Anong trauma niya? Anong biases niya? Anong intent niya why and why not? LOL. Kabog ang zodiac, Enneagram, MBTI at iba pang personality quizzes. SIDE NOTE: I was perplexed. I was looking at the results back in summer and curious what's next? Anong areas for improvement para derecho lang. LOL. Turns out, focus sa talents instead of tweaking the demerits and detentions. :D Triggered ng nanay kong gusto perfect lahat 'to, pero ready na tayo sa mature roles.
I was actually about to back out and flake fashionably. LOLOLLOLLOLL. Sabi ko nga sa driver ko, balik na lang kami sa bahay kasi ayoko talaga ng ganito.
Ad hoc, game. Mabigatang meetings na malala, game. Walang habas na revisions, game. He laughed and told me that puwede namang umuwi kaso not so traffic punta BGC and sayang din bayad ko. Hindi raw sulit. LOLOLOLLOLL.
I kept my walls up even when I know I'm up to speed in terms of recovering and learning more about my reclaimed area. :D I am truly wondering why this session had to happen right now, however, I guess, it's bound to happen, anyway. Holiday break is coming and 2024 is peeping more and more.
Ginusto ko ng slow growth season that I can't unsee. Eto o. INAMO. Salagin mo ngayon 'yan kung kaya mo. Hahahahahahahaha. That's how I actually felt as I was in this session.
Actually, when I was tasked to answer this test, ayoko talaga. As in. UGH. Pero sige, compliance. Okayyyyy. When I saw the results, DAMN. Hahahahahaha. CTRL + ALT + DEL after I read them. Hassle kasi ng mga tanong. Simple but sapul. :( Walang kawala levels 10000000000000 to the nth power. UGH.
I thought the seating arrangement was random but very curious. Me: Yas. Seatmate ko and session buddy don't vibe. By don't vibe meaning, casual hi and hello lang kami for the longest time. LOL. Turns out, we aligned about our past projects, our first encounter back in team building, our current tasks and syempre, the life outside work and 2024 goals. LOL. Alam ko madaldal siya 'pag lasing pero, the convo we had is really one for the books. We actually vibe pala and madaldal pala siya kahit hindi lasing. As I told that person: Oh, so you're the OG unbothered pala after all. Not bad. Not bad at all. We're aligned pala through it all. Hindi mo man lang sinabi and I didn't bother to bother you because, I don't want to. LOLOLOLLL.
Later that day, as I was feeling the crash of the session, an earthquake came. Chill lang at first, but, damn. When I heard the alarms go off, I froze. I was caught in between sneaking to hide somewhere in the office. Hahahahahaha. Eto na ba ang the Big One? Ready na ako. HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA.
I actually took all the time in the world to pack my things because I have a luggage. I asked my officemates to stay together and sabi ko susunod ako. LOL. Una na sila. Girl, saltik levels 100000000 na naman. I looked around and decided to go all the way down the flight of endless stairs.
As I was going down the stairs, a kind stranger intruded my space. Literal na kinuha lang niya respectfully 'yung luggage ko. I told him I was totally fine. He said, he's got it. HAHAHAHAHHA. Sobrang kawawa ba talaga ng itchura ko that time? LELS. Mukha pa naman siyang boss ng legit brand sa ibang floor. Nastress ako to be honest, pero wala e. I looked closely kung kaya ba nga niya, pero seems like kaya nga niya. Ako hindi. Hahahahahahaha. I noticed that he is following my slowwwww pace kasi the alarms and lights are overstimulating me. UGH.
Fucking tall buildings talaga. FUCK. SIDE NOTE: Tall buildings like office buildings and condos are never in my book. :D Reason is because it's not sustainable even when it's the best thing the market has to offer. I know things because I used to co-design content for a popular condo living brand. :D We slayed it then and market share-wise, we do way better than the feeling market leaders. LOL. It's not meant for children, people with short legs, pregnant women, disabled, injured, aged and pets like Vici, Vidi and KD.
He waited for me to reach the exit and I thanked him and asked for his name. He smiled and said: NO NEED. IT'S OKAY. I shook his hand and thanked him. May bow pa kasi kahihiyan levels 10000000. I squinted at his ID pero it's fucking blurry though I saw his company name naman.
Thank you, stranger. May the universe bless you to the fullest. Sorry talaga sobrang bigat ng luggage kong kaya ng 20kg. Hahahahaha. Mag-train na nga ulit ako ng core ko para mas handa tayo sa mga sakuna, literally and figuratively.
I asked my ever reliable driver to pick me up because for sure, booking a Grab is a fucking shit show in this parasite in Manila. LOL. He told me that it would take him less than an hour to arrive. Later, he told me that traffic is crazier and that he might arrive way off the original ETA.
I asked my office buddy if we can vape and get 1 bott. Sumama naman my other officemates. LOL. Actually, kahit 'di pa sila sumama, I'd hole up and vape and drink because this day is fucked up to the nines. I just need to sedate myself a bit. Overstimulated po tayo AF so, eto na. Our officemate treated us and had a good round of convos. Buti, super small group kami kasi ayoko talaga ng big groups. Parang lang.
I got home past 9 and dad greeted me. LUH. Hahahaha. Dapat iinom ako ulit e kaso dad does not like seeing me down drinks. Okay lang sa kanya 'pag 'di ako nakikitang umiinom, to be honest. He asked me if he can bring me to the office and wait for me to go home. AYOKO. Hahahahahahahaha. Bigyan ko raw siya ng chance. AYOKO NGA KASI. Sama pa raw siya sa holiday party. LOL. Sabi ko, all nighter 'yun so 'wag na rin. LOLOLLOLL. Can't wait for the long weekend. Will down important stuff. Try to bike and spend more time with zee doggo babes. Ako naman. Also, dapat na magpa-knee rehab doc compliance visits tatay ko. Kung 'di pitpitin ko ng pinong-pino bikes niya. LOL.
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existentialmagazine ¡ 1 year ago
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Review: Electric Circus’ newest alternative-rock single ‘Some Kinda Love’ soars through emphatic guitar solos, gritty instruments and a tumultuous love
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Newcastle based alternative-rockers Electric Circus formed alike most recent bands during the midst of the global pandemic, rising out of the ashes of its destruction with a sound that’s intricately curated and determined to be heard. Since stepping foot on the music scene, the four-piece have sold out headline shows, supported Jamie Lenman, played all over the country, and now find themselves back in the studio releasing their third storming single of the year ‘Some Kinda Love.’
A kickass hurtling drum beat leads into the quick-paced experience that is ‘Some Kinda Love’, an immediate introduction to the hurtling speed and adrenaline-pumping highs of this quartet’s pulsating alt-rock soundscape. Accompanied by gritty electric guitar strums and an emphatic opening guitar solo that shreds the place to pieces, Electric Circus already establish a great amount of momentum and musical flair before the first verse has even began. Simmering into a steady thumping beat, deep bassline and subdued picked electric guitar strings, the verse flows out like the calm before the storm, still containing all the rich instrumental depth while lowering volumes and dominance - for now. Their vocalist sings atop with a rock-esque tone ladened in husky allure and charismatic spirits, perfectly complementing the song’s heavy, 80’s leaning sound. Things soon return back to a thunderous high for the choruses impact that’s enclasped in crashing drums, raw electric guitar strums and an overall frantic feel, all the while their vocalist leans into a hoarser, angsty approach you just can’t help but head-bang along to. The bridge shows off an eccentric electric guitar solo that’s been building right from the beginning, unleashing an impressively scaling riff all the while the instrumentals continue to hit at full force, closing out the track with heightened instrumental energetics. Hooked on every fiery element, ‘Some Kinda Love’ is the kind of fast-paced, impassioned single you just can’t get enough of, looping in your mind long after listening with an addictive level of fizzling fuzes going off around every turn in this three minute journey.
Spilling through the tumultuous soundscape of ‘Some Kinda Love’ is an equally shakey lyrical narrative, as Electric Circus speak of all the positives and negatives that come with every relationship, ultimately just wanting to show and feel loved through it all even when it can be hard to shake off a grudge. Fuelled by frustrations and mismatched personalities, lyrics like ‘why don’t you just tell me something that won’t just start a fight?’ emphasise the difficulties of a partner who just can’t help but light a fuse in their every comment, blowing up the steady bedding of their relationship with a continual battleground. Multifaceted lines like ‘baby can’t you see, it’s all the things that you’re doing to me’ carry through the passion as much as the pain though, equally alluding to the things they’re doing wrong as much as it does the spell they have that keeps them coming around. Hurting and wanting comfort from the one that should be there regardless, Electric Circus sing ‘I just wanna feel something that is real, some kind of love’ , a reminder that through the turmoil it’s always most important to work as a team that care for one another rather than taking petty shots. In many ways a lot of the lyrics also correlate to toxic relationships at the core, worn down by the lows but continually pulled back in by every single racing high and stuck back inside a never-ending cycle: ‘when will I just get through my head my future’s not with you?’ In whichever way you interpret it, ‘Some Kinda Love’ always leaves you with some kind of positive take-away, whether it be empowerment to walk away from something unhealthy or to look introspectively and shift your argumentative approaches.
Check out ‘Some Kinda Love’ here to appreciate Electric Circus’ rowdy sound mixed with a message that truly matters.
Written by: Tatiana Whybrow
Photo Credits: Unknown
// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.
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ravenlikesbooks ¡ 5 months ago
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It is absolutely refusing to let me copy and paste my tags to add ALT text or an ID I am so sorry. It's my tags from when I first reblogged this post.
ANYWAYS OP themself asked me to continue so I am. Because what else am I gonna do on this 6 hour bus ride? (Edit: count weird billboards mainly)
So the thing about Gem is that (with the exception of Empires S1 which is big sad) all of her series are canonically connected. So really if we wanna do a full analysis we should start back at like X-life, Legacy, or her singleplayer worlds. But that's a lot of prelude so I'm just going to jump in starting at her introduction to a lot of the current fandom via Hermitcraft.
So Gem meets a lot of these people for the first or second time. She's flung into the world in a ditch next to Pearl, and within minutes is introduced to the way the hermits play - that of course being a lot of death. She lives and dies and lives again, making friends. Boatem throws themselves into the void like multiple times a minute.
And then the world ends. Suddenly roleplay is a major aspect of this world as well. The moon grows in size and people start making hideouts, space travel, cults. Anything to try and survive. Gem enjoys the roleplay, she's good at it! And when the moon finally crashes she leaves, having fun all the while.
Next season, she comes back.
This on its own is not monumental. She comes back, does some roleplay, builds a base, starts a head dungeon, etc etc. At the same time, she joined Empires Season 2. This is where things get really important. Gem says it herself, she's basically playing dress up. Even from the beginning, before she revealed she was the same person in all her series, she repeatedly emphasized that she decided she was a princess. No claim to the crown, no heroic deed, nothing. For all intents and purposes, she just waltzed in and declared herself princess. Hell, you could argue that unlike many other kingdoms, within universe Dawn didn't even exist until Gem decided it did. This quote is actually from her "I survived 100 days in a minecraft flatworld" video but I feel it applies here anyways. "I also decided that since I am the only sign of intelligent life in this world, I get to be queen."
All of this is to establish that Gem Does Not Care. You can be as nice to her as you want, but if she thinks messing with you will be fun she will do it no hesitation. Gem does what Gem wants, and there is very little you can do to stop her.
Sometime through Hermitcraft s9, Gem learns about another server some of her friends have - a death game.
I want to emphasize this real quick. A death GAME. A game. About death. The game is death. Death is the game. Everyone understand that? Great.
So Gem helps Etho train, before getting thrown in herself to play Cleo's role. And Gem? She loves it. You can see how much she enjoys the chase, how much she relishes in the adrenaline. When Bdubs tries to warn her about Scar she brushes him off, because she's not afraid to take him.
So of course the natural next step is for her to join the games (remember that: games) herself, and as herself.
Gem has fun, as she always does. And that's why the ending of secret life is such a big deal.
Gem views this as a game, and always has. And slowly she realizes that nobody else does. And this comes to a head at the very end when it's the final few. When she tells Pearl "I thought we were friends". And Pearl and Scar kill her.
But she goes out with the most hurt yet still obviously roleplay scream she could have "A 2v1? You guys are gross!"
That's the thing about Gem that makes her so volatile. She is, canonically, the same person everywhere. And with that, more lore heavy servers she is quite literally a character playing a character. Normal pleasantries and tactics like the fawn response Scott tries to appease her with don't work on her, because life is a game, and where's the fun in predicability?
So yes, to quote myself quoting OP once more: "Gem is not a fawn. She's the entire fucking forest."
coughs. Everypony who wishes to hear about scott secret life episode 7 and is old enough to catch their own prey please gather under pride rock or whatever the fuck they say to call an emergency meeting these days. I need everyone to know why this episode is so unusual for him… I take back anything I have ever said about gem in my entire life that implied disinterest; Gem and her zombie apocalypse scared the SHIT out of Scott. NOBODY HAS EVER MANAGED TO DO THAT BEFORE.
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topguncortez ¡ 2 years ago
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Day 22: Pick your poison ➢prompt: ALT- adrenaline crash ➢character: Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson ➢warnings: Uranium Mission, mentions of a will, mentions of death, passing out. ➢word count: 2k
|| masterlist || whumptober || whumptober masterlist || library ||
When Beau had to pick the best of the best to come back for this mission, he knew that her name would come across his desk. Anyone would be a fool to not pick her, it was just that Beau was hesitant. Anyone would be hesitant to pick their daughter to go fly a suicide mission from hell. But as he stood and watched Falcon maneuver through the training course with ease, he knew he made the right call. 
“How do you feel about this?” Falcon asked her dad as she sat in his office. They were soon going to have to go down to the ops deck to hear who Captain Mitchell chose for the mission. Part of her wanted to not be chosen, but the other part wanted to be. This was going to be a mission that would save lots of people, but it could also cost the lives of some amazing pilots. 
“Ask me when I found out who’s flying,” Cyclone answered, and leaned back in his chair, “You um. . .  I’m guessing you have. . . everything squared away?” 
Falcon looked down at her boots and nodded. It was one of the first things they have you do when you enlist, set up your will. She hadn’t ever changed it from when she was 18 and signed her first contract. Everything was set to go to her parents. She didn’t want them to have to deal with the hassle of anything, so she made it easy. Every year they had to look at their benefits and will, making sure that everything was up to date. 
“What about Bradley?” 
“His is too,” Falcon answered on behalf of her husband. Beau hated the fact that she had married another pilot, but he was also relieved. Beau had been divorced twice, and didn’t want his daughter to have to go through that same pain. So what’s better than marrying someone who understands their life? 
“I want you to know. . . everything will be okay,” It felt like an empty promise, and Y/N felt like she was a little girl learning how to ride a bike again. She gave her dad a small smile as she stood up from her seat. 
“We better head down,” She said and Cyclone nodded. 
He stood behind Captain Mitchell, looking over the twelve pilots he hand selected to come to this mission. Falcon stood next to Rooster, and Cyclone looked at them both. He had watched them both grow over the past ten years into the excellent pilots that they are today. He couldn’t have been prouder of both of them. He considered Bradley to be like another son. Maverick had picked his two foxtrot teams, and Cyclone took a deep breath before announcing the two solo pilots that would accompany him. 
“Falcon and Rooster.” 
Cyclone clenched his jaw as he looked at the two of them. They both gave each other a small glance, before looking back at their captain. Cyclone cleared his throat dismissing them and telling them the morning hit time. Y/N took a step back as she fell out of attention, and hugged Bradley tightly. Warlock put a hand on Cyclone’s shoulder as he watched his daughter interact with her spouse. Bradley whispered something in her ear, and she nodded before he placed a quick kiss on her cheek. Y/N watched as Bradley walked away before going over to her dad. 
“Falcon,” Cyclone said, and could see the tears in her eyes, “Come on.” 
He led her back to his office, and once he shut the door, the sobs left her mouth. The weight of the situation was finally hitting her. It was more than just practice and running the course now. Cyclone sat down in the chair next to her, and let her cry. He knew that she hated to be coddled, she had been like that from a young age. She was very independent. 
“Captain Mitchell made a good choice,” Cyclone spoke up, and Y/N nodded. She wiped away her tears, and leaned her elbows on her knees, still looking down at the linoleum floor, “You know how this works. You are one of the only ones, besides Maverick, that has experience with something like this.” 
“That was before I had a child back home,” Y/N sniffled, “And my husband flying right next to me.” 
Cyclone’s eyes drifted to the back of the frame that held the picture of his grandson, “That is true. You have more at stake than any of them out there. . . but you are also one of the best out there. You know how this works. You know the course, you know the risks, you know how to get home safely. If I was out there, I would want you by my side in a dogfight.” 
Y/N nodded and took a deep breath, “Just. . . you need to be the one who tells Nick, okay?” Y/N looked over her shoulder at her dad. That’s what caused tears to fill Cyclone’s eyes. He clenched his jaw and fought back tears as he nodded, “Don’t let two random strangers tell him that one of us died. Don’t do that to him.” 
“I won’t-” 
“Promise me.” 
“I promise, I will be the one to tell Nick.” 
Y/N nodded and stood up from her spot, “I have an early morning.”  
Cyclone nodded and stood up as well. They weren’t ever very affectionate. That wasn’t the type of house that Cyclone grew up in, and with her mother never being around, Y/N wasn’t very affectionate either. But, Cyclone hugged his daughter anyway. She relaxed in his arms and he placed a kiss on the top of her head. 
“I love you, Y/N.” 
“I love you too, Dad.” 
Cyclone let his daughter go, and watched as she walked out the door of his office. He sat back down in his chair, and held his head in his hands and cried. 
Instead of going back to her own quarters, she went down to Roosters. She knew that Hangman was more than likely in Bob’s for the night. Rooster smiled at her as she walked in, holding in his hand a picture of his family. He moved over the best he could to make space in the small twin bed. Y/N laid down on the bed and curled into his side. Rooster held her tightly, both knowing their lives could change tomorrow morning. 
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Cyclone had hardly slept that night. He had emailed his ex-wife telling her that both Bradley and Y/N had been chosen for the mission. He mentioned what Y/N said about him being the one to tell Nick if something happened to his parents. Everytime he thought about it, having to tell his three year old grandson that his mommy and daddy were dead, brought tears to his eyes every time. He held a cup of coffee in his hand as he overlooked the flight deck from the tower, watching the hustle of the crew. He knew that Y/N and Bradley were probably getting dressed, and spending a quiet morning with one another. Usually, Cyclone was highly against sailors sleeping in other’s quarters, but he knew the risks of the mission and let it go. 
“Sir, they are ready,” Warlock said to him, “Do you want to-” 
“Can’t,” Cyclone said, cutting him off, “She made it clear years ago. . . she doesn’t like to be bothered before a mission. She’s probably already kicked Bradley away.” 
Warlock chuckled, “She’s a good pilot.” 
“I know,” Cyclone answered, “Let’s do this.” 
Cyclone held his breath as he watched the pilots take off and begin their trek towards the Uranium Plant. Hearing his daughter’s voice come over coms as she became airborne made his heart pound in his ears. He watched the screen and listened closely as the pilots dropped into the terrain, flying under the first set of SAMS. Falcon’s job was easy, she was to drop the third and final missile on the plant on the way out of the steep dive, right before going into coffin corner. As long as Maverick and Rooster hit their targets, Falcon would be able to drop in completely blind. Cyclone held his breath as Maverick deployed his missile, watching as it hit right on target. 
“Line it up, Fanboy!” Rooster called out. 
“I can’t, it’s not. . . deadeye, Rooster!” Fanboy’s voice called out in a panic. 
“Drop in blind,” Falcon called out, right behind him. 
“I can’t, it’s too-” 
“It’s even riskier if I do it,” Falcon said, cutting him off. 
“Dropping in blind,” Rooster announced. Cyclone clenched his jaw as he waited with baited breath to see if Rooster hit his target. 
“Bullseye! Bullseye!” An operator called out. 
“They’re not clear yet,” Cyclone said, “It’s coffin corner.” 
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Cyclone was the first on the flight deck when the planes started landing. Her plane was second to last, having circled back to try and look for Bradley when he went down. Cyclone knew that he should write her up for insubordination, disobeying a direct order and leaving herself as an open enemy target, but he could care less at this point in time. The second he saw her plane he was running out onto the tarmac to get to her. She was shaky as she climbed down the ladder and reached out for her dad. 
“Dad,” Her voice was even shaky as she called out for him. Cyclone gripped on to her forearms as she reached the bottom of the ladder, “You need to send a search and rescue-” 
“We have a team on standby for when it’s clear,” Cyclone explained, “We need to get you to post-flight check.” 
“Bradley’s gone,” She looked up at her dad. Her eyes wet with tears, “Oh my-” 
Cyclone felt her knees give out from under her. He gripped her body tightly to keep her from crashing to the ground, “Medic! We need a medic!” He wrapped an arm under his daughter’s knees and around her back, picking her up from the ground. He quickly got her over to one of the awaiting gurneys and the medical staff began their assessment. 
It had been hours since Falcon landed back on the carrier, and Beau hadn’t left her side. He had heard the good news from Warlock, letting him know that his son-in-law had made it back alive. It was like a weight had been lifted off of Cyclone’s shoulders. He no longer had to think of going home to tell his grandson his father died. Or worse, he would have to tell his daughter when she woke up that her husband was dead. The steady beeping of the heart monitor was somewhat comforting as Cyclone waited for her to wake up. Rooster was off in some other room being examined. 
Cyclone was dozing off when he heard the soft whimpers fall from her lips. He sat up and looked over at his daughter, who was strating to somewhat wake up. He could see her shifting eyes under her eye lids and he grabbed her hand, letting her she wasn’t alone. Y/N blinked at the harsh light shining in her face. 
“Where- What happened?” She asked, her voice gravely, “Dad? Wait. . .is he- is he g-gone-” Y/N started to panic as Cyclone moved quickly and placed a hand on her head, gently patting the top of her head. 
“You’re okay. You’re on the ship, in the infirmary. The mission was a success, you did what you were supposed to,” Cyclone explained. He hated seeing his daughter cry. He hadn’t seen her shed a tear since she was about fourteen. Gently, he brushed a stray tear from the side of her face, “Bradley is alright. He made it back.” 
“Oh my god,” She cried out, and relaxed a bit on the bed, “I-I thought he was-” 
“I know,” Cyclone said, “They stole an F-14, can you believe that shit?” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, having gotten to know Maverick, she wasn’t surprised, “God, those two must be the luckiest sons of bitches alive.” 
Y/N opened her mouth to speak, when the door to her room was opened and Rooster walked in. She let out a shaky sigh, as he quickly ran over to her. Cyclone moved from her bed, so Rooster could hug his wife. He watched as Rooster held her tightly, taking in the feel of her body against his. Cyclone smiled to himself as he stepped out of the room, letting them have a moment alone
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circlique ¡ 2 years ago
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10. Adrenaline Crash @whumptober
Let her rest.
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