#...in which SHockwave feels despair | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hayanahed · 11 months ago

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Emergency: Help Evacuate My Family From GAZA WAR

Dear Humanity,

I'm Haya from Gaza , from a family of 8 people: my parents, two sons, and four daughters (two of them suffer from allergies).

I've witnessed the evidence of the tragedy that has struck our lives in Gaza, where my family and I have survived amidst numerous previous wars. But today, we face the most dangerous and fierce battle in the current war. The urgent need intensifies for us, as we have nothing left and are unable to secure our basic needs such as food, water, and safe shelter.

Here is our story - On October 7th, our lives changed forever, my family and I evacuated from northern Gaza to southern Gaza, hoping to return soon, but it wasn't meant to be. Our home was surrounded, burned, and then completely destroyed, Our home, once a fortress of hope, now lay in ruins, a stark reminder of our shattered dreams.

The night before we left from the north to the south was terrifying. Shelling sounds were everywhere, making a loud noise that felt like it went through our souls. Every explosions shook the ground like earthquakes, sending shockwaves of fear through our trembling bodies. filling us with fear. The air smelled of destruction and blood, making it hard to breathe. When dawn came, we saw the devastation around us, realizing our home was now a symbol of loss and despair.

We ran into the streets and with each step we took into the unknown streets, we felt as if we were plunging deeper into the abyss of our shattered existence, leaving behind everything we own in our home: Clothes, important official documents, the car, and literally it's almost everything - the enormity of our loss weighed heavily upon us.

Our home it was where we found hope, safety, and made precious memories. Losing it felt like losing years of our lives, leaving us adrift amidst the wreckage of our shattered existence.

youtube

A brief video depicting the devastation that struck our home and our entire neighborhood in Gaza.

Desperate Plea: Escaping Gaza's Allergy Nightmare

I, Haya, suffer from severe allergy to penicillin-derived medications, and my sister, Amal, also suffers from severe allergies to medications from my family such as Paracetamol and Ibuprofen.

These allergies create a deep sense of fear and anxiety for us, as we live in a constant state of tension and fear of anything that may require a visit to the hospital. We fear being given inappropriate medications due to the unavailability of suitable treatments in Gaza because of war or lack of awareness and not informing the doctor of our allergies, which could lead to serious consequences threatening our lives.

MY Father Income

Our dreams are heading towards oblivion in the labyrinth of an uncertain future

My story, along with my siblings, represents a united team of four individuals, three of whom are skilled programmers and one graphic designer. We work as freelancers in the world of freelancing.

As for my younger sister, she is a student studying at the College of Architecture. She has always carried a big dream in her heart, a dream of being part of changing Gaza, of making it more beautiful and better. She looked forward to the day when she would receive her degree and start building this dream. But the beginning of the war changed everything. The destruction of infrastructure and universities cast shadows of despair over her dreams.

When I think of my brother in Belgium, I can't help but feel deep sadness. He has been suffering from unbearable anxiety and insomnia since the outbreak of the war. Sleep eludes him at night, and his physical and mental health collapses under the weight of these heavy burdens, negatively affecting his performance at work. Problems and challenges pile up in front of him without the slightest opportunity for rest.

We all feel psychological pressure and extreme anxiety. The war hasn't been limited to external attacks but has deeply infiltrated our daily lives. We search among the rubble for a little safety and the basic resources for survival. Every day comes with a new challenge that we must overcome.

As we sway amidst the rubble of shattered dreams, our souls wrestle and our hearts beat strongly challenging the ravages of war.

Our parents earnestly seek a way to rescue us from this hell, feeling the heavy responsibility for every moment we spend under the shadows of fear and destruction. They dream of a safe place where they can build for us a better future, filled with security and hope, for we deserve life in all its meanings of comfort and peace.

Perhaps this fundraising campaign represents a light in the midst of darkness, it is indeed the only hope we cling to firmly.

I appeal to the world as a whole to hear my cry and the mournful cry of my family in Gaza. We need the helping hand that reaches out to wipe our tears and build a bridge to safety.

Your donation is not just a donation; it's an opportunity to rebuild life and brighten a better tomorrow. Be part of our hopeful story, for we need your hand to start anew.

The purpose of the fundraising campaign

The goal of this fundraising campaign is to rescue my family - my parents, my siblings, and me - through the Rafah Crossing to Egypt, which currently requires $5000 per person. This campaign is our only chance to stay alive, and I humbly request your assistance at this critical time. I will provide you with a comprehensive breakdown of the expenses, committing to transparency and clarity.

All of our important links are here https://linktr.ee/hayanahed

Verified by :

⭐️ operation olive branch, number 26 on their spreadsheet. (On Master list)

⭐️ Project watermelon,line 249 on their spreadsheet. Or you could see it as number 212 here is the photo for more clear proof

Thank you for your kindness and support.

.جزاكم الله خيراً

yours sincerely;

Haya Alshawish.

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kisskoushi · 9 days ago

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— sweet creature ₊˚ʚ

cw: sfw

timeskip!semi crushing on his manager!

“semi do you think you could pass me that amp?”

he looks up from his guitar to see you, mics in hand with another gesturing towards the guitar amp behind him. cracking a smile, he gets up and hands it to you, fingers brushing together for a brief moment.

it’s not enough contact for you to notice, but semi does. any type of interaction with you sends shockwaves through his body. it’s been this way for a while, but he had always brushed it off as pre-show jitters.

today was different though, he knew why he felt this way. semi liked you.

“oh! by the way, what type of…” your voice trails off, he doesn’t even register what you’re saying because he’s so focused on what’s in front of him.

he’s taking notice of the crinkles forming by your eyes because of your smile, the faint rosy blush on your cheeks.

“did she change her hair?” he thought to himself “it looks…really cute”

“umm semi? did you hear anything i just said?” you ask, rolling your eyes at his blank face. your sudden words snapping him back to reality.

“oh sorry no what’s up?” feeling his face warm up in shame, his thoughts finally registering in his mind.

okay this was crazy. but he was oddly into it, these wandering thoughts about you. he’s had them before but he thought that’s just how he is, a flirt. but now, he realized it had always been simple, he had feelings for you.

—

“you like the girl don’t ya eita,” his bandmate asked while tuning his guitar. semi spun around in his chair in complete shock, feeling his face burn up.

“how did you find out?” panicked, he felt like his advances were more obvious than he had hoped.

a flat string played, “crap, gotta redo this one”

“do that later!” semi scooted closer, dropping the music sheets he had in hand earlier, “was it obvious?”

his bandmate looked up, slight smile on his face. “eita, i think everyone but you and the chick know”

he groaned, hands covering his face in disbelief. all his bandmate could do was burst out laughing.

“this isn’t funny! god what if she thinks i’m a creep” semi’s on the floor now, in complete and utter despair.

wiping the corner of his eye, he says, “you kinda are dude, always lurking in the corner when she’s talking to us” he puts the guitar to the side.

he did feel something more. anytime he saw you speaking to the bandmates he couldn’t help but feel a twang of jealousy, which in fact did lead to him lurking behind walls or curtains listening in.

it’s not like you guys were even talking. you were just his manager, you had every right to socialize with all members of the crew so why did he feel entitled to want you to himself?

semi rolls his eyes, “my god you’re zero help”

“eita, my guy listen to me,” he sits beside semi. “do you like the girl?”

“isn’t it obvious?” he groans, mostly because his secret wasn’t so secret and partly because his pride was bruised. “yeah i guess i do.”

“then do something about it”

—

“even if i do like her,” he thought “would it affect the relationship we have already?” he couldn’t get these thoughts out of his mind. they clouded his mind, laying awake in bed still thinking about the countless possibilities.

he did so the whole night that night, tossing and turning, thinking up a way to make his feelings towards you clear when suddenly it came to him—the perfect plan.

—

“as i was saying” you continue, bumping his arm with your shoulder, making him stifle a laugh, “what type of bread did you want for the sandwich?"

he raises an eyebrow in disbelief, flicking your arm with his finger. “all that fuss for a question about bread?”

your face flushes, “well yeah, you haven’t eaten yet and you’re on in an hour” you mumble with a slight pout.

he leans down, dangerously close to your face, “aww you worry about me?” he says with a grin.

“oh shut up it’s not like that” you groan, “god forbid someone feeds you semi”

he laughs, loving every second of the effects caused by his teasing. with a sigh he finally says, “just get me whatever’s your favorite, we’ll split it sweetheart”

you sputter, “semi! we talked about this, don’t call me sweetheart” the guitar amp beginning to slip from the hand holding it up.

he catches onto the sudden slip and takes the amp back. “fine,” he grumbles, awfully pouty, “here i’ll help you with this.”

“thanks semi,” you huff, relieved from the weight of the amp, “just follow me i’ll show you where to put it” guiding him across the stage.

happy to just be around you, he smiled and followed your lead.

—

“is that okay?” he asks, sweating after helping you lug around some more equipment. “it’s perfect! thank you semi” shooting him the sweetest smile, making his whole body weak.

“you didn’t have to help me y’know” you say in between bites. you both ended up getting the same sandwich, eating some together before soundcheck.

“it’s no biggie, i wanted to” he says, looking down at his uneaten meal. “and because i wanted to see you happy” he thinks to himself, unsure if he was ready for you to know that particular detail behind his sudden need to help you.

he glances up, only for his eyes to meet yours. “semi you’re awfully quiet,” putting down your sandwich you scooch closer.

now you’re both sitting shoulder to shoulder, heart achingly close.

his heart starts beating faster, the flirty facade from earlier fading away. “oh yeah it’s just,” he starts, his voice beginning to shake. “pre-show jitters?” you finish, looking at him with eyes full of light.

“yeah, y’could say that” he mutters, bringing his knees to his chest. yeah, he’s got it bad. one look at him and you melted him to pieces.

you turn to him, placing a hand on his shoulder making him turn to look at you. eyes locked on each other and time seemed to stop. the shuffling of other people walking around you guys and the loud voices reduced to a low murmur.

“semi, i think you perform wonderfully,” you whisper, your gaze never faltering, sending shivers up his spine. “you’ll do great! just like always” you affirm, smiling at him, steering him off the edge of sanity.

being so close to you, he takes note of the things he’s admired from afar.

the way your hair fell over your shoulders, the way your eyelashes fluttered when you spoke to him and the faint scent of your lipgloss. he found himself really focusing on your lips now. “plump” he notes, “a nice pretty shade of pink”, he wondered what they would taste like.

“you think my lips are pretty?” you ask as he begins to close the space between you two.

“who wouldn’t?”

without thinking, he’s cupping your face with his hand whispering a quick, “can i?” waiting for any kind of confirmation on your side.

“we’re on in 30!” a voice tells out from behind the curtain.

and now he’s fully registered what he’s doing. he’s holding your face close to his, breath synchronized, almost kissing you.

“the hell am i doing,” he thinks to himself, “this wasn’t the plan eita.” letting go of your face he stands up, face burning red in shame.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t supposed to do that,” he mutters under his breath, you can barely make out what he was saying. “semi it— don’t worry about it, are you okay?” you’re up now, bringing your hand up to his shoulder.

glancing down at your sudden touch, he moves away, “yeah sorry, i’ve gotta go” and just like that he’s gone, disappearing behind the commotion of people getting the stage ready for the show.

wooo one of my longest works! wasn’t sure if i should finish it so you guys lmk! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

aaalso sososo sorry for being MIA (╥﹏╥)

#semi eita #eita semi #haikyuu #haikyuu semi #haikyuu x reader #semi x reader #hq #hq semi #hq fanfic

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valacre · 25 days ago

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: ̗̀➛ Nearer the End

Megatron x Reader - Transformers Prime

Halls echoing with the beating of a metallic pulse, you wander endlessly through a mist of delirious wakefulness. A heavy rumble follows your every step, and too often the sound of your breath slices the silence in the air and your ears. Kept safe in Megatron’s habsuite with only a mere window allowing you natural light, you watch the mountain of clouds, majestic as the sunset paints them golden with shadows stretching far beyond your line of sight.

The memory of rain touches your skin, and you feel the scent of salt in the air.

How ironic it is that Megatron’s touch was your only salvation, your heart soaring whenever he was near, though your mind and spirit withered away with each passing day. Proclamations of love have calmed the melancholy, but the knife whose blade is covered with ice digs ever deeper as you recall the sight of your new body. The one specially prepared for you by Megatron’s head scientist, Shockwave.

You did not like him.

He stared, unavoidably due to his lone optic, but you knew his gaze rarely left you whenever you accompanied Megatron to his laboratory aboard the Nemesis. Though he was gentle beneath Megatron’s watchful optics, you sensed the hidden excitement within Shockwave’s touch, how he could hardly wait to test whether you’d successfully be able to live as a Cybertronian or not.

You hadn’t seen them, but you’d heard the test subjects wailing and moaning in despair as their consciousness and souls had been ripped from their bodies, forced into a metallic prison only death could free them from. You’d seen the discarded remains of the first unlucky ones, those who must have suffered too greatly before Shockwave neared the perfected method of transformation.

No amount of pleading had shifted Megatron’s mind, though your fear-stricken eyes had moved something within him. Whether that was a good thing or not, you didn't know.

“You will not be awake for the procedure, my dear,” he’d said, trying to comfort you, though unknowingly forcing bile up your throat as blood, rushing through narrow veins, roared in your ears. Your heartbeat quickens, then drowns out to the sound of the ship’s ever-present rumble. “It will be painless, I promise.” Empty promises, you couldn’t believe them. “One day, you will thank me.”

And you can hear him scream, the Megatron of your dreams, who remained trapped deep within this maddened warlord, but he had no power here. He was too weak, too neglected and forgotten, though his presence trickled out with each gentle touch Megatron delivered to you, the warmth of his servos tickling your skin as they touched and squeezed in appreciation and devotion.

“You are simply not of humankind,” he said, holding you as he gazed upon the view outside, not seeing your glossy eyes. “Whether you were once of my kind, long lost and reborn as flesh and bone, I cannot say for certain, but there is more to you than I, or anyone else, can see.” Kissing your forehead, wishing to touch your lips but still unwilling to do so, he leans back to look upon your face, gently wiping away the tears that cannot stop falling. “Despair not, my love. I will ensure the universe does not claim you too soon.”

Let it take me, you think. Let it take me and turn me into endless stardust, scattered upon the sea until the world perishes and the darkness takes hold once more. Let it claim me so I may finally unite with what you once were. Let me find that which you have killed in yourself, for you are lost in madness, and I long to be free of it.

Lost within your thoughts, you fail to notice the shift in the air, how the rumbling of the ship changes, and chaos quickly ensues, forcing Megatron out of his madness, if only to have his anger replace it. Head raised, eyes blinking to take in your surroundings, you hear him excuse himself before he mass-shifts back to his formidable size, casting one last glance before he departs, barking orders beyond the closed doors once gone. Normally, you wouldn’t have cared, would have gone back to staring out the window, longing to be amongst the clouds as their kin. But the sound of screeching wheels makes you pause, and though the rumble of the ship has returned to assault your ears, you cannot tell whether you imagine it, or whether you have, or have not, heard Ratchet’s voice in the far distance. What's more, something has appeared within the clouds beyond the window, and though now darkened with night and storm, you can almost think you recognise a certain set of colours. Red and blue, familiar yet so unfamiliar, a frame bulkier than before, now with wings.

You blink, the figure vanishes as it chases something else, and you take a breath. Imaginative plays by a desperate, dying mind… or something akin to hope.

“Optimus?” you ask, voice hoarse, unbelieving.

Previous / Next Music: Eshaton – Ανάβαση (found on Bandcamp)

#tfp #maccadam #transformers #megatron #tfp megatron #megatron x reader #Vala Writes #Dreams of Love #a slow beginning as i recover from exhaustion

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alexanderlightweight · 1 month ago

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Wednesday nights are my new/old/new again favourite part of the week. I'm solo parenting bedtime with 2 little ones and a doggy on Wednesdays which can be stressful when one is an infant who cries when tired (who would have thought 🤔) and the other is my 5yo autistic angel who manages her displeasure at a baby crying by being louder to down it out.

All this to say when the dust settles I treat myself to a cup of tea and binge read anything/everything you post during writing Wednesdays. So thank you for being you and sharing your gift. It's a sweet treat to frayed nerves and a sign that the week is almost over.

With that in mind I selfishly ask for a continuation of either guide/sentinel verse or some other where they're essentially power boosting eachother against others who would be happier to have them weaker (for control reasons or to get rid of them).NSFW please (should you be so inspired) but will happily take anything.

PS I hope you're getting some R&R yourself or at least snuggles with your pets 🐶🐈‍⬛.

that sounds... that sounds like you need a whole pot of tea and i'm very glad that my fics help you recenter and also remind you the week is near its end! I hope this wednesday was nice to you!

indeed! so shocking that a tiny human who doesn't understand anything cries at the surprise of exhaustion they can't comprehend! why I certainly don't still cry when i'm over tired even now that I understand it (jk I totally cry but I only wail sometimes). seriously, I love how kids are like 'oh hey. I can problem solves this by escalating' and you're just sitting there going '... someone please stop this ride. I would like to be off and go sit in the quiet, dark corner of peace I know exists somewhere'. not that kids aren't amazing, but well. they come with quite a few features that are understandable but no-less exhausting for all that they're being reasonable considering they're brand new humans.

as tempted as I was i didn't manage to get this written on Wednesday (because the brain fog decided I was done) but I hope you still enjoyed the other prompts filled that night when you took your break and I hope you enjoy this because I may have had too much fun with it

that being said, if this ends up not sounding like (don't read if I accidentally added something not your thing) something youd enjoy or if you read and it ends up not being your thing, just let me know.

uhm so I need to be clear this is 3DNE and it's in gladiolus first part here, so it's both bloody and kinky. seeing as Magnus senses Alec and goes Enemies to Married in about five minutes.

uh..., slaughter, fucking on a battlefield and using blood as lube (corpse blood so corpse desecration I guess). kinky sex and Magnus has dick piercings. battlefield bonding and some blasphemy. a little outside pov for some added despair. not for malec, malec are having a blast. probably some more but i'm bad at tagging without ao3's helpful database so be advised, here be dead doves.

also I did have some lovely cuddles with Nightshade (tho they are never enough according to him)

<3 lumine

gladiolus

Izzy isn’t sure what’s happened.

All she knows is that Alec is at the center of something powerful, red mist gathering in, obscuring her vision as she tries to find him.. Her hermano is in the eye of a storm that’s taken down the entire field of combatants.

The shockwaves have stopped and while the ground still feels like it’s trembling with aftershocks, Izzy can’t be sure it’s the earth or her. However, she’s finally conscious again and that means she can fight. She pushes up from her side up to her knees, leaning on her elbows as she tries to steady herself and gather the will to get up.

She’s lucky that whatever happened took out both sides, giving her time to gather herself and then gets a look at what’s actually happening.

The warlock — the High Warlock and the reason her parents are in a different location rather than here — is still in front of Alec, even if they're both standing now. Izzy isn’t even sure if Alec’s standing or if he’s being held up, she can’t tell from this angle or from how blood drips down into her vision. His wings are out, but they’re not glinting adamas and they’re not being ripped away from him either.

Finally she sees Alec fully as he steps away from the warlock and looks towards her, even across the distance, she feels like their gazes meet.

Run.

The stern command against her mind is silent to her ears, but not her senses. Izzy’s never felt a louder truth or a more desperate and deadly emotion from her hermano.

It’s dangerous.

He’s dangerous and it’s with fear that Izzy realizes the warlock must be a guide and if he’s a guide and Alec’s giving her a warning then...

Izzy closes her eyes and grits her teeth, forcing herself up even though she’s struggling along with every other shadowhunter on the battlefield.

On a field of slaughter, more like.

Unlike the other shadowhunters who are picking their blades back up and orienting themselves, Izzy runs. One foot after the other, first a staggering limp before her gait steadies as her training overcomes the pain and shock. Alec didn’t give empathic orders like that unless lives were in danger... but Izzy is the only one he’s bothered to warn.

Tears stream down Izzy’s face as the screams start.

These are people she knows.

Some of them are people she cares about and while she doesn’t like all of them, she’s been fighting on a battlefield with them for what feels like a lifetime.

Even as others join her in fleeing, Izzy knows it won’t be of any use.

She’ll survive for one reason and one reason alone, because the bonds of kin can temper Alec’s reason enough to spare her. There’s no such grace for anyone else on the field. Especially since most of them are hunter’s Alec only tolerated because they were all equal fodder once on the field and each body counted.

Alec’s never let on just how deep his soul ache is. If the echoes of his un-shielded mind feel like a canyon or a puddle, or how deeply he yearns for a guide, if at all.

Izzy feels like a fool.

Of course Alec would want a guide.

Who else will give him the unconditional love he deserves and has been denied his whole life. Their parents threw him at the Clave the moment he emerged and the Clave have him throwing him at demons and then on battlefields ever since.

Alec has no true reason to stay loyal to their people, not even the Pride of Idris that he was a part of. Alec turned his nose up at too many guides, snubbed too many families and bruised too many personal feelings, despite the blatant lack of compatibility between him and well, anyone.

He’s been alone for years, not just by choice but because he’s never matched.

Which is exactly why he’s slaughtering them.

All of them.

Tiers and rows and teams of nephilim, killed by one of their own. Worse, a sentinel, the steadfast protectors of their people. The very reason Alec leads troops despite being unbonded is because of his natural instinct as a sentinel to protect them and his territory.

Yet now he destroys what he once shielded with a near manic glee. Why wouldn’t he, when it’s to prove his devotion to his guide, Alec’s never been one to half-ass anything.

Izzy can feel Alec's satisfaction grow with each death. It lingers heavy in the air as if Alec’s warlock guide is magnifying it. Projecting it out to further torture the nephilim dying in droves and flaunt his own victory in claiming a sentinel even the Clave has given up on.

Most of them are trying to fight back but some know better and are running. Alec’s deadly enough on his own, but now in defense of his guide? There��s no hope for any of them.

Izzy stumbles, nearly tripping as the hunter in front of her drops, an arrow through their throat. Izzy wants to fall and kneel, take advantage of the fact that Alec’s her brother and take a moment to mourn and just breathe but she can’t.

Alec may be her brother but Alec’s guide is her enemy.

This is Alec’s last gift.

Her life, before her brother completely turns to the other side.

That warlock didn’t demand this.

Oh the Clave will assume so and so will their parents. They’ll make it sound like the warlock mind-controlled Alec but Izzy knows the truth. This is a gift. A courting gesture. A Raziel damned promise, that Alec will never betray his new guide and is firmly by his side, despite being enemies only moments before.

Izzy gets past the runline and to the tents, where runed defenses normally keep those in charge and those wounded who are sent back to heal.

Her first step past the zone where her body can recognize nephilim grace and she collapses. Rolling with the force of her fall and barely remembering to tuck herself to take the brunt on her shoulder rather than head.

For a moment she lays there, blood and mud in her mouth and then she’s being hauled up. Aline and Sebastian pulling her up and into a tent rather than in the mud.

“Izzy, what in Raziel’s name is happening past the runes? We can’t see anything.” Sebastian’s voice is soothing and familiar and Izzy chokes, turning to spit before accepting a canteen of water.

“The High Warlock, the one no one can get near. The reason my parents got called to Idris—” Izzy gets out and then she takes several more sips. They’ve both paled but what they’re imagining is nothing as bad as the reality. “He’s a guide. A powerful guide, he brought the entire battlefield down. Even his own side and by the time I managed to get up it was too late.” Izzy shrugs, laughing mirthlessly as she cries because she can’t tell if this is worse or better than losing Alec to death. “He’s claimed Alec as his sentinel.”

Aline turns to where the wardline is lit up with silver-blue wards and runestones and Izzy follows her gaze. The field she ran from can’t be seen, hidden beneath a deep, dark unnatural fog of crimson.

“The screams stopped a few seconds ago.” Sebastian murmurs, “I can’t tell if that’s bad or good. You think the warlock killed them all so that Alec wouldn’t have to choose? It makes sense he’d spare Izzy then, since she’s Alec’s sister.”

Izzy shakes her head, not sure if it’s guilt, love or exhaustion that holds her tongue from spilling the truth. Better to let them understand and see with their own eyes the carnage Alec’s wrought.

“Can you see out there, if you go past the wardline?” Aline asks her and Izzy isn’t sure, she doesn’t remember anything but trying to make sure she didn’t trip on the bodies that dropped as easily as the apples Izzy used to throw for Alec to shoot.

—-

Pleased avarice fills the entirety of Magnus as he watches his sentinel slaughter his way through packs of his fellow shadowhunters. No sooner had Magnus pulled Alexander to his feet and into a kiss to ground his boy with his touch as he pulled Alexander from a zone-out and his sentinel bristled. Turning his backto Magnus and hand on his unlit blade.

Magnus had thought it to be symbolic, that his delightfully tall sentinel wanted to show that he’d protect Magnus despite it hardly being necessary or what Magnus wants. Instead of posturing however, he’d launched forward, blade reaping lives and his psyche oozing grim satisfaction. He’s a scythe in a field of bodies ripe for the harvest.

This isn’t protection, it’s carnage.

Magnus is quite frankly, shocked and delighted by Alexander’s brutal instincts and the way he cuts through bodies with both his blade and wings. They’re bonded and even if it hasn’t settled that’s more than enough for him to shield Alexander from the mental agony ringing across the field.

His boy is drenched in the sacred and holy blood of his own people, uncaring of the gore as Alexander crushes bones and cuts off limbs. A battledance of gruesome beauty dedicated to Magnus alone.

Magnus hadn’t had any particular plans for the rest of the shadowhunters on the field before this. He’d fully intended on taking Alexander somewhere private, where he could make sure his sentinel wasn’t too overstimulated as they finished bonding. Sentinel senses could be rather delicate, especially before the final claim to complete and settle a bond. Alexander’s mind and soul submitted so sweetly to Magnus’ claiming that he thought he’d need to protect his boy until it settled.

Yet Alexander stands strongly, bow drawn and arrow aimed, feet steady and planted on bloodsoaked ground. Quickly and efficiently picking off those who try to run, avoiding only one single shadowhunter.

That singular mercy would normally be enough to raise Magnus’ hackles, however the bond that thrums between his boy and the lone shadowhunter is familial and filled with farewell, not one of lust or yearning.

Still, it stokes something bitter in Magnus’ instincts that anyone was spared when this is a display from Alexander to himself. It’s not even a display of protection, but one of devotion. One survivor won’t make him doubt his sentinel but it does make him wistful, as Magnus watches his boy decapitate one of the hunter’s actually trying to fight back.

Despite thinking of taking Alexander somewhere calm and isolated, where his senses could be soothed as they bonded, Magnus has changed his mind.

Because while it isn’t necessary, Magnus intended to finalized his bond with Alexander with sex. He wants a primal bond and considering Alexander is slaughtering the soldiers he was leading only moments ago, his boy can only want the same.

Magnus doesn’t want to tame Alexander’s tempest, he wants to unleash it and add his own gale to the storm.

—-

The minute every threat is neutralized — perhaps not yet dead, but no longer a threat, Magnus pushes his sentinel down onto the ground and follows. Kissing Alexander messily and marveling at how just how much blood his boy got on himself during the massacre he just gifted Magnus.

“You’re divine, Alexander.” Magnus praises as he kisses blood from Alexander’s jaw and they both groan when Alexander gets his viscera soaked fingers under Magnus’ shirt. They’re firm and calloused and slick with still warm blood and Magnus chuckles into Alexander’s mouth as he uses magic to get both their pants open.

“I hope you’ll forgive me darling, but I’m afraid after your little display we’re bonding here and now, Alexander. I’ll fuck you on silks and roses later if you like, but for now. I’ll have you like this.” Magnus means it too, his sweetly vicious sentinel deserves finery and gentleness as equally as he deserves to be ravaged in the pools of blood he’s created.

Alexander chuckles under him, eyes dark and wild as he pulls Magnus down so he can lean up and kiss him — teeth catching on Magnus’ lip in a taunt.

“You think I mind bonding on the land I washed clean for you with blood? You think I’d let you bond me somewhere else? I’m your sentinel now. You decreed it. So prove it here, where it can’t be denied.”

Magnus has to kiss him for that and then Magnus drags his fingers through the thick blood on Alexander’s clothes.

“Do you think your dead comrades ever imagined that the most useful thing they’d ever do in life or death is help me fuck you open?”

Alexander whines, hips wriggling to give Magnus more room to pull his pants down far enough so Magnus can fuck him.

Magnus pets his fingers across Alexander’s hole, anointing it with the blood of Alexander’s own hunters with a smirk. There’s a whine of impatience and Magnus spits, letting blood and saliva mix and adding magic to slick the way as he presses into Alexander.

Magnus feels as impatient as Alexander looks, the way he’s urging Magnus to hurry with little hitching breaths and judders of his hips as he clenches down on Magnus fingers.

“I’m trying to loosen you sweetheart, let me in.” Magnus nips at Alexander’s ear, careful to avoid breaking or biting skin just yet. “If you keep clenching like that, how are you ever going to handle my cock, hmm?”

Alexander whines, tensing despite Magnus orders and finally after a deep, steadying breath he forcibly relaxes. Magnus fucks into him with his fingers, curling them and twisting and holding down Alexander’s hip with his other hand. Unrepentant when he finds Alexander’s prostate and rubs teasingly at it.

“There, isn’t that better?” Magnus asks and Alexander’s gasp of his name is the correct answer as Magnus adds a third finger, twisting until he’s knuckle deep. The rings of his fingers pressing together and stretching Alexander’s rim tight against the cold metal.

Magnus crooks his fingers teasingly, the rings threatening to slip past Alexander’s rim and he laughs in delight as Alexander comes, breathless and untouched between them.

“Such a good boy,” Magnus praises him mentally and also petting him with emotions. Laving him with affection and pride and Alexander squirms, clenching around Magnus’ fingers like he’s afraid they’ll leave. Magnus gives him a moment to settle and then presses his fingers deeper, curling them so they press insistently against Alexander’s prostate this time.

It earns him a deep whine and Alexander tenses and trembles beneath him. His wings are muddy, fluttering and gathering filth and blood and Magnus only allows it because he’ll personally clean each and every feather later.

Once Alexander is entirely his.

Alexander’s hole is pink and swollen and streaked with blood when Magnus pulls his fingers free. It’s obscene to use nephilim blood to fuck Alexander, but how can Magnus waste such a precious opportunity when it’s been provided by Alexander.

Magnus slicks his cock with the blood on Alexander’s torso and then fucks into him. He’s not nice or gentle about it and Alexander’s scream is silent as his nails claw into Magnus’ back and he bites at the shoulder of Magnus’ jacket. His teeth nearly pierce through the leather, prickles of pain teasing at Magn us’ skin as Alexander moans.

“Did I forget to mention the piercings, darling?” Magnus barely manages to get the words out. Breathless himself and too entranced by how tight Alexander is around him. The jacobs ladder of platinum rings down his cock dragging and catching on Alexander’s hole had been blissful but it’s even better now, fully inside him. Magnus has to take a moment, just to let himself feel as Alexander’s soft walls flutter around him. Each of the nine captive beaded piercings ensure that his sentinel will never be able to forget the feeling of Magnus fucking him.

Of Magnus claiming him from the inside out..

Alexander is breathing wildly, wings puffed up and trembling and eyes clenched shut as he tries to breathe. There’s blood and mud in his hair and on his face and Magnus snaps his hips forward, just to make Alexander look at him.

He does, gasping out Magnus' name in both complaint and awe.

—-

Alec can feel everything and it’s been too much since Magnus caught him and claimed him but that doesn’t matter. Because all sensation fades away, to where he can’t feel the mud or smell the blood or anything but Magnus.

Magnus cock breaks and remakes him, as he memorizes every imprint of metal and flesh inside him as Magnus fucks him.

Alec could zone out on the sensation of cool metal that stays chilled and Magnus’ cock searing hot in contrast. He can’t though, Magnus keeps him on the edge of awareness, dragging his cock in and out in smooth, slow thrusts, as if he has all the time in the world. Each piercing catches on Alec’s rim, again and again every time Magnus pulls out only to slam back in and when he hits Alec’s prostate, it’s with metal kissing it.

Alec can still hear the gasps of the dying. The gargle of blood in lungs, slowly drowning those he stabbed in vital places but didn’t personally finish off.

But what does that matter when he can also hear the way Magnus’ heart beats in tandem with his own and feel how Magnus cock pulses inside him, slicking his walls with precome and the blood Magnus opened him with. Alec’s too sensitive to come again, even if he’s half-hard and wishing he could. That kind of pleasure would black him out when he’s this open and overwhelmed or worse. Send him into a zone out..

Magnus is shielding him, but not completely, not yet.

He wants Alec to feel this and Alec wants to feel it even if he feels like he’s drowning.

Alec wants to feel the raw agony of death around him as he discovers the brutal joy of being found and claimed. Wants to be lost and then found again by the pained pleasure of Magnus fucking him, his cock erasing and rewriting every moment Alec ever felt lonely and aching and empty without Magnus.

Magnus fingers stroke his dick, forcing him fully hard and then slowing to jerk Alec off with unhurried, lazy movements as the thick crimson fog around them begins to disperse.

It lingers on the edges of his vision before disappearing and Alec groans as he realizes Magnus did it on purpose.

Magnus wants everyone to see and feel the backlash as their bond finishes forming, to witness Alec’s guide fucking him in a valley of blood and as Magnus comes, the bond sears fully into place.

Existence roars and the world spins before it’s tucked away behind Magnus, the sensations that overwhelm Alec fading away. Even with as over sensitive and vulnerable as he is.

He comes, barely feeling and nearly blacking out from the feeling of Magnus’ limp cock and hard piercings sliding from his raw hole.

Fingers pet over his face and he can hear each kiss of metal teeth as Magnus zips him back into his pants and then hauls him up. Alec’s not sure how he does it, when Alec’s spine feels like jelly and his wings are a dead weight.

There’s the noise of a portal and Alec follows with relief, knowing that wherever Magnus takes him will be home.

Will be safe.

—

AN:

When Magnus dropped his shields, they connected on a psionic level and he claimed Alec mentally, he then locked Alec’s senses on him with a quick imprint, to ensure that Alec will know him no matter what. The sex just finalized the bond and also cemented what kind of bond it is. The psionic melding shared the basics of who they are with each other. Not like, favorite color and food, but like the primal basics of a soul and mind and their names.

I’m gonna explain the sentinel/guide bonds in my universe because everyone kind of has their own thing and mine is aro/ace inclusive which a lot of them are really not. In fact in this universe stabilizing/formalizing/settling a bond via sex is the rarer of the three options.

Okay so full-bonding can occur with either sex/mutual full sense-imprinting (including psionic)/and mutual, scarring bites. There’s about a twelve hour window after you start forming your bond to stabilize it with a full/complete bonding. It does not take a full twelve hours, but that’s about the limit before you start going feral with the need to finalize the bond.

Full and (mutual) sense-imprinting is both physical and psionic and creates a bond based on a kind of mutual steadiness, a baseline bond that's got a firm and even foundation and is very grounded. If one half of a pair is especially hot-headed/reckless/impulsive or something, they might want this kind of a bond to help ground themselves just a little more. Or if both sides have anxiety etc. This is the kind of bond that helps stabilize you and your partner to the point where a lot of partners can work apart if they want/need to. It’s the most common bond.

A mutual bite blood-shared bond creates a very protective more insular bond. It’s basically the most defensive version of the bonds and it’s very focused on each other. More contact platonic or otherwise is required, a lot of holding hands and leaning against each other and generally being in each other’s space. Which is less optional and more a need to feel each other as close as can be. Most pairs who bond like this don’t work apart ever. Second most common bond.

Sex bonding is actually in fact a sex ritual with a side of bonding and is more raw and primal driven. It’s a more rare form of bonding because of that. The bond it forms is a violent, decadent and feral energy that toes the line of humanity. It’s a more rare bond because it does symbolize a sacrifice of control for the raw, wildness of a bond that's also rabidly obsessive. Depending on the pair, you never know if they’re more or less dangerous together or apart and which they are depends on the sentinel/guide. Least common bond.

After a bond stabilizes, the acts of full sense imprinting, sex and biting each other don’t have any effect on the bond itself. They’re just fun things they can do or not do.

Yes they still need to do full sense and psionics imprints, but if they’d done that first it would be a different kind of bond. Therefore, sex first.

There are nine captive beaded piercings (which are a hoop with a locking bead in the middle that seals the piercing shut) on Magnus’ Jacob’s ladder piercing and they represent the nine circle of hell because he’s extra like that.

also for anyone wondering, Magnus didn’t influence Alec at all even though he could have. Alec is just also extra and wants to make sure Magnus understands that he’s picking Magnus, just like Magnus chose him. Alec wants everyone to know what side of this war he now belongs to. there will be no allowance of someone even hinting he's not loyal to Magnus and Magnus alone.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #gladiolus #magnus bane #malec #alec lightwood #shadowhunters

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yume-writes · 4 months ago

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Imma bully someone else for a sec, I want one of the big bots to have a traumatic experience. Specifically Black Hook.

Black Hook is protective of his crew, very protective. Something the cons` take note of. So when Shockwave creates a weapon that can infect a bot with Cosmic Rust, he decides Black Hook is a perfect target as he's one of the strongest.

Black Hook himself is hard to get a good hit on, so Shockwave aims for Buffalo Crush, knowing Black Hook's soft spot for the hungry Cardbot.

Ultimately, Black Hook takes the shot "intended for Buffalo Crush." The hole in his chassis was expected. But when the metal around starts to rust and flake is when everyone realizes something is wrong.

Black Hook isn't a stranger to nearly dying as a Pirate. But this is slow, agonizingly slow, and it terrifies him how weak he feels. He can barely move, and he's confined to laying down at all times. He hates it, and he hates the panicked look Buffalo Crush constantly wears as the Autobots scramble to make the antidote.

~🎶

MCB x TFP crossover

I kinda love the fact that no one is safe from angst, this trauma is rated e for everyone!!!

Listen I know I should focus on Black Hook, which I will in a moment, but imagine how Buffalo Crush feels. That panicked look isn't the only thing for Buffalo Crush. He's watching his captain die, he is watching him waste away, slowly and painful. He can see it happened. It's his fault, Buffalo Crush thinks, if only he was more aware of his surroundings, if only he could move faster then his captain wouldn't be dying. It hurts him, it hurts him so much, sometimes the guilt is choking him, how could he let this happen to his captain

Onto Black Hook!! He braces himself for the pain that would come from the blast, he expected it. What he didn't expect was the numbing, burning pain spreading out from the wound. He tries to comfort Buffalo Crush, even when he can't move, but as the rust spreads across his body it gets worse and worse until he can't even talk

Every part of his body is in some form of pain, he feels so weak, if the pain didn't stop him the weakening, numbing feeling in his circuits would. He can barely think by this point, he's so tired, so, so tired. He wants to sleep, he wants to rest, but the look on his crew's face stops him from doing so. The pure panic and despair on Buffalo Crush's face hurts him, but the subdue look of anxiety on Buster Gallon's face hurts him even more

He's scaring his team, he hates it, he hates what he's doing to his crew. And he can't do anything about it, confined to a berth and wasting away. He wishes he could do something, like hugging his team and comforting them, but he can't even do that! He hates it, he hates it, he hates it so much. He wishes the bots would hurry up, he needs the bots to hurry, he's... not sure how long he can hold on

Even when the bots find the cure, he still isn't fully cured. He still feels pain and weakness in his body, sometimes it's hard to get out of the berth and sometimes transforming feels like torture. He can move through it, start healing, with the help of his team and friends, but he'll never be the same after this

#metal cardbot #메탈카드봇 #mcb #transformers #tfp #transformers prime #tf #mcb x tfp #yume asks #black hook #mcb black hook #buffalo crush #mcb Buffalo Crush #🎶 Anon

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sshbpodcast · 5 months ago

Text

Character Spotlight: T’Pol

By Ames

We’re continuing through our Enterprise character spotlights with a much more likeable character than last time: the ship’s resident Vulcan, T’Pol! And though she starts out mostly as eye candy for the 10-year-old boys watching (kinda like Seven of Nine), the sub commander really grows into something more than just a cat-suited female (also kinda like Seven of Nine!). Over the four seasons of the show, Jolene Blalock really nails the “Vulcan nuance,” as we’ve dubbed it, and becomes a character greater than the sum of her voluptuous parts.

She may spend most of the series making suggestions that go unheeded, bearing the brunt of Archer’s xenophobia against Vulcans, and being exploited for the sake of the viewers to ogle her in the decon room or performing Vulcan neuropressure, but the hosts of A Star to Steer Her By really grew to appreciate T’Pol’s presence. The Vulcan Science Directorate has determined you should read on below and listen to this week’s podcast episode (tractor beam to 59:08) for more on our logical first officer!

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best moments

I’m the sanest one here! After T’Pol warns everyone not to go down to the planet until they’ve scanned it (amateurs!) in “Strange New World,” everyone on the away mission inevitably goes crazy on pollen. But she keeps her wits about her and manages to not get shot by a batshit hallucinating Trip. Instead, she concocts a clever plan with Hoshi to survive the storm and save everyone.

Tractor beam > grapplers While Archer is racial profiling the Vulcan crew of the Ti’Mur all over the place in “Breaking the Ice” and assuming they’re there to spy on the Enterprise, T’Pol is busy keeping rational and logical, as is her wont. She eventually convinces Archer to swallow his pride and ask them for help when they need the use of Vulcan tractor beams over their miniscule grapplers, which suuuuck.

You have the power to control the waves We really don’t get enough scenes between Hoshi and T’Pol, but when we do, they’re always lovely together. When Hoshi is stressing out while on the Klingon ship in “Sleeping Dogs,” our Vulcan friend doesn’t hesitate to share some meditation techniques with her. And in “Vox Sola,” we see more of T’Pol’s awkward way of showing affection for the ship’s cunning linguist.

My mind is my mind, my thoughts are my thoughts There’s a lot of negative things we can say about “Fusion” (and we will in just a moment, so don’t despair), but none of those things can be laid at the feet of T’Pol, who’s the only person acting on her behalf for most of the episode. I shouldn’t have to say it is good for women to stand up for themselves because “no means no,” but this is the world we live in.

The Science Vulcan Directorate has determined that time travel is not fair T’Pol’s in a rough spot again in “Shockwave” when the Suliban have taken over the ship in Archer’s absence. They interrogate the poor woman for a while, and she holds her own somehow, and clings to her logic that time travel should absolutely be impossible. And after torture, she’s able to jump into the crew’s plans to re-commandeer the ship!

As usual, Vulcans are immune to the anomaly of the week In typical Vulcan fashion, T’Pol does not suffer the obsessiveness that plagues all the other crew members when they study a trinary black hole system in “Singularity.” So it’s up to her to rescue the rest of the characters from themselves (or from Phlox, in the case of Mayweather) by knocking everyone except Archer out cold and saving the day!

An AIDS allegory a few decades too late While a lot of “Stigma” doesn’t hold up today because its AIDS allegory feels like too little too late, everything T’Pol stands for in this episode rings true. Even while every man on the show is telling her what’s best for her, she firmly states that anyone with Pa’nar syndrome should be treated as justly as she is as someone who was forced into a nonconsensual mindmeld.

We can stop the film if it’s disturbing your conversation I do find it annoying every time Archer forces T’Pol to do things outside her comfort zone just because she’s Vulcan, but this little moment is cute. It might just be because of how damn obnoxious we find Phlox sometimes, but watching her tell that Denobulan sycophant to shut up during a movie in “Horizon” was all of us in that moment. Phlox, Shut Up.

Every day is exactly the same Even though it’s kind of an alternate timeline, the T’Pol that we see in “Twilight” does some very commendable stuff. Sure, there’s taking command of the ship when Archer is incapacitated, but there’s also resigning that commission to take the most thankless job there is: taking care of memory-less Archer for years on end and explaining life to him over and over.

There’s a human expression: You gotta give ‘em that hawk tuah We get another alternate T’Pol in “E²” and she’s just as compelling as “Twilight” T’Pol. The older, wiser T’Pol is astute enough to see the flaws in her son Lorian’s crazy plan and provide her younger self a better, just as crazy plan. Add that to the literal self-reflection she shares about getting over her trellium addiction and learning to love Trip and it’s all great stuff!

Blood is thicker than plomeek soup This is one of those complicated episodes, so you’re going to see “Home” on both lists, but let’s start with the good. We’ve got to respect T’Pol a bit for sucking it up and marrying Koss even though they’d called the engagement off (not to mention that she has a thing for Trip). But it was to save her mother’s reputation and get her reinstated at the Academy, so that’s nice of her.

Her name is Elizabeth We don’t get a lot of T’Pol with baby Elizabeth in “Demons” and “Terra Prime” but what we do get is heartbreaking. We’ve really got to give credit to Blalock and Trinneer for some beautiful acting when a doomed Human-Vulcan infant is thrown in the mix, especially in their final scene of “Terra Prime,” which is utterly devastating.

—

Worst moments

You were only there for three days and you couldn’t restrain yourself While Vulcans throughout Enterprise are typically bitchy and blunt, it seems a bit illogical how T’Pol jumps to the conclusion that Trip must have acted ungentlemanly during the course of “Unexpected,” resulting in his getting pregnant. This before he’s been able to tell a word of his own story. That’s just rude, T’Pol. Get all the facts first, then make your judgement.

Don’t blame the victim We’re not victim blaming T’Pol for what happened to her in “Fusion.” No, we’re blaming the writers, who did a bad bad thing in this episode that we largely loathed. For some reason in Trek, the writers treat it like a requirement for the sexy lady character to get mind-assaulted, and to treat it as sexually as possible, and we’ve been fed up with that since Troi and Seven.

Oo-mox always makes the list! I will always put oo-mox on the bad list, because too often it feels like sexual degradation. Lwaxana does it. Crusher does it. Jadzia does it. And in this parade of women performing mild sexually-implicit acts on Ferengi, we see T’Pol perform oo-mox on Krem in “Acquisition.” It’s just disgusting how the writers keep falling back on making this gross joke over and over.

The spy who neck-pinched me We learn in “The Seventh” that T’Pol was an operative for the Ministry of Security, which is idiotic enough on its own. She also sides with Archer on what to do with Menos, which is never a good idea, after the resurfacing of some wiped memories of all the messed up shit she did. Worst of all, the writers forget about her spy training and foist it off on Reed being in Section Thirty-fucking-one, but we’ll cover that later!

Pon farr also always makes the list Almost as much as I dislike oo-mox, I dislike pon farr. We already covered this in “Blood Fever”! It’s yet another device to sneak sexiness into episodes, but it is in no way consensual. Blame pon farr all you want, but for all of “Bounty,” we’re subjugated to watching T’Pol run around in her underwear trying to rape Phlox just to titillate the teenaged boys, and that’s disgusting.

I don’t believe it, now my pants are chafing me Like our last Enterprise spotlight, most of the bad moments are coming from season 3. This is when we’re subjected to countless instances of T’Pol engaging in Vulcan neuropressure with Trip, which is NOT her job. Relenting to Phlox and doing this was bad enough, but did she really have to trick Trip into it in “The Xindi”? And why did she HAVE to be topless for it?

Green-blooded with envy We promised you last time lots more moments from “Harbinger,” so here we go. Vulcans wouldn’t typically find it illogical to be jealous of other people, but that doesn’t stop T’Pol from getting all jealous when Trip starts hanging out with Amanda Cole. It makes her look like a petty, whiny teenager all episode long. Green is apparently not a good color on you, T’Pol.

I just don’t like being compared to a lab rat Oh look, more examples from “Harbinger.” The Tri’Pol shippers get their moment when the two of them hook up, and who can blame them? But having T’Pol pull the rug out from under Trip the morning after is just cruel and tactless. She claims (if you can believe her) that she was just curious what intercourse with a human was like, as if she were just checking it off a list. Next!

I’m sorry, Captain, I can’t obey that order Another episode that ranks among some of the worst of Enterprise is “Hatchery.” Everyone except Archer is perfectly content to let the Insectoid babies die, and T’Pol disobeys when captain orders the crew to help save them. She doesn’t even know the captain is compromised yet! She just doesn’t think he’s committing enough war crimes, evidently, and mutinies about it!

Big green monkey, everyone’s a junkie Again, no victim blaming here; addiction is a serious condition, and kudos to T’Pol for eventually getting help from Phlox. But. The writers fail T’Pol’s logical character in making her a trellium-D junkie, as is revealed in “Damage.” You want to explore an addiction plot? Fine, then make it make sense for her character. Have her seek to build her immunity. Have it be to relieve pain from turning zombie in “Impulse.” Chasing the dragon doesn’t work for a Vulcan.

You brought me sixteen light years just to watch you get married to someone you barely know A second ago, we were giving T’Pol credit for marrying Koss to help her mother unsully her reputation (which was neither of their faults to begin with, mind you) in “Home,” but it’s also just plain sad to watch her have to acquiesce to being blackmailed into a marriage she does not wish to be in. And to have to treat Trip like he’s dog meat is also painful to watch! Tri’Pol shippers, unite!

You’re wondering if I’ve been having any daydreams about you? Speaking of the Tri’Pollers, they get a smorgasbord of Trip-T’Pol material in “Bound,” most of it juvenile as hell. Ever since they got together in “Harbinger,” T’Pol has been dancing around this “do you like me” bullshit like a teenager (or worse, like Shakaar in “Crossfire”) and it gets so frustrating. Why can’t the Vulcan just be upfront about this stuff? Why is she in high school?

—

It is only logical to end the blogpost here. Make sure you’re following along as we keep the Tri’Pol ship chugging along next week, when our spotlight swings to everyone’s favorite Floridian! Also keep watching along with our watchalong of Discovery over on the SoundCloud or wherever you podcast, do some Vulcan neuropressure with us over on Facebook, and remember to wear a hat whenever gallivanting around in the past!

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jambiscuits27 · 11 months ago

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Hi, I hope you're doing well. ❤️ I'm writing to you with full of hope to help me and my family. My family is in a very danger situation due to the ongoing war, and I've launched a GoFundMe campaign to save them. 😢 Could you please share my campaign post from my profile? Each share could be a lifeline for my family. 🙏 Feel free to share it in any other social media platform if you would like. Our campaign has been verified by operation olive branch, and is entry number 26 in their Master List on their spreadsheet. From the bottom of my heart I want to thank you in advance for all of your support and kindness.

Hiya and im fine thanks for asking!

If you are reading this then you have a chance to help Ahmed get his family out of Gaza. Not only that, but 2 members of their family, Haya and her sister Amal, suffer from severe allergies from penicillin-derived medication, so there is constant anxiety of them being given inappropriate medication due to the lack of suitable treatments in Gaza.

As of right now, €63,547 out of their €100,000 goal has been reached, so only halfway is left! Every € counts and if you are unable, even a simple reblog/share can help immensely

Gofundme description under cut:

“Dear Humanity,

I'm Haya from Gaza , from a family of 8 people: my parents, two sons, and four daughters (two of them suffer from allergies).

Our home it was where we found hope, safety, and made precious memories. Losing it felt like losing years of our lives, leaving us adrift amidst the wreckage of our shattered existence.

Desperate Plea: Escaping Gaza's Allergy Nightmare

I, Haya, suffer from severe allergy to penicillin-derived medications, and my sister, Amal, also suffers from severe allergies to medications from my family such as Paracetamol and Ibuprofen.

This situation breeds a storm of doubts and worries, so we appeal to you to help us leave Gaza and rid ourselves of the anxiety and fear due to allergies.

MY Father Income

My father owns an automated food factory that produces a popular dish called "Maf'toul," named "Couscos Al-Sham." He established it in 1996 and distributed its products to all markets in the Gaza Strip, both north and south. Recently, he was seeking to export his product outside the Gaza Strip. However, when the war came, his factory was completely destroyed, ceased operation, and my father's income became zero.

Our dreams are heading towards oblivion in the labyrinth of an uncertain future

My story, along with my siblings, represents a united team of four individuals, three of whom are skilled programmers and one graphic designer. We work as freelancers in the world of freelancing.

Since the beginning of the war on October 7, 2023, our lives have come to a complete halt. There's no work, no workplace, not even electricity or communication. Our workplace was destroyed, and the entire infrastructure in our area was crippled, leading to the loss of all our projects and sources of income. Thus, my family and I have become without any means of livelihood.

Despite this, she continues to dream, working diligently to rebuild Gaza, to achieve her vision of a city full of life and beauty. Her story remains a story of resilience and hope, carrying within it a strong determination to succeed despite all challenges.

As we sway amidst the rubble of shattered dreams, our souls wrestle and our hearts beat strongly challenging the ravages of war.

Perhaps this fundraising campaign represents a light in the midst of darkness, it is indeed the only hope we cling to firmly.

I appeal to the world as a whole to hear my cry and the mournful cry of my family in Gaza. We need the helping hand that reaches out to wipe our tears and build a bridge to safety.

Your donation is not just a donation; it's an opportunity to rebuild life and brighten a better tomorrow. Be part of our hopeful story, for we need your hand to start anew.

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Thank you for your kindness and support.

.جزاكم الله خيراً

yours sincerely;

Haya Alshawish.”

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quetzalpapalotl · 9 months ago

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I am genuinely curious about why TF One!Alpha Trion is the only iteration of Alpha Trion you like while the others you don’t like. This is coming from someone who really likes TF One!Alpha Trion (his beast mode, for some reason, really reminds me of one of those Chinese lions in lion dances (it’s the horn on the lion’s head, I think)), but sees all the other Alpha Trions as just “some old guys.”

Alpha Trion mostly suffers from the problem that he is supposed to be an Old Wise Guy character, and if I am meant to have reverence for a character you better sell them well to me. It's a delicate balancing act, otherwise I find them annoying.

But it's not like I actually hate him, he doesn't make my blood boil or anything like that I just kinda want to shove him in a locker. He shows up to say wise stuff and I'm like "yeah yeah, I get it", it's even more annoying when he's ~mysterious~. But honestly, a lot of it (especially in TFP) is me projecting my feelings for Exodus!Alpha Trion, and the problem there really isn't so much his character as that Exodus is just not the best written novel.

In IDW1, JRo writes him deliberately annoying as a sort of affectionate parody in Spotlight: Orion Pax, which is cute. Barber's take is particulary annoying because he did shit like participate in the Antillan colonization and prop up Nova Prime so everything in the series is his fault!! (not really but kinda) And yet he lies about all this and poses as the Wise Old Guy. This isn't actually annoying tho, because the story is well aware of what an hypocrite he is, Shockwave even describes to us how he exploited Trion's character flaws. He also respects Arcee and so that gives him a lot of points in my book. Is very interesting that she inherits his role as the teller of tales, but Arcee, in contrast, tells things as they were, the good and the bad. He sucks and that's good actually, he is a Prime and we are putting that whole legacy under scruntiny, he is a great character, he is fascinating. I still very much want to shove him in a locker.

One is still an Old Wise Guy, but you know, his motivational speech is good enough for a kid's movie, he also tells all the important information right away, when he entrusts the future of Cybertron to the main character is not so much that these guys are special because The Wise Old Guy says they are, but they are the guys that showed up and his best shot against Sentinel. We also see him rage and despair at all his friends getting killed, which are not emotions usual to his character. And also he is cool!! Idk why they gave him a beast alt but is was extremely cool!! And his sand visual show powers are also very cool! No locker for you, sir!!

Anyway, pls don't take my Alpha Trion hate seriously, I just like to bully him for recreation.

#quetzal rambles tf

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apheliia · 1 year ago

Note

İ will actually beg on my hands and knees if you write any type of kny fics after that final episode

WELL..... SINCE YOU ASKED SO NICELY........ HERE'S WHAT I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

kny spoilers utc ❗️❗️❗️ also likely spoilers for my multi-chapter kny fic, hydrangeas! i say "likely" because there is no guaruntee i will use the idea i discuss in this post, BUT it is pretty likely that i will.

i've been thinking about kagaya..... *dies (just like him fr)* specifically with hydrangeas!reader, i have HUNDREDS of THOUSANDS of words to go before i get to this point in hydrangeas' storyline, but it has been on my mind nonetheless:

imagine. h!reader is the last person to see him before he dies (other than amane and his kids of course). they cry and weep into his arms because they can see how close to death he really is, and all he can do is smile and apologize and muse about how sorry he is that he never got to really see the person they grew up to be. he's known them since they were 11. they're 21 now and he doesn't even know what they look like, and he feels as if they are one of his kids despite the very minimal age gap between him and them, so it hurts him to not know.

but anyways. it's as they're leaving, once they've gotten far enough away that it occurs to them that they are being followed by one of nakime's little freaky eyeball things.... and as they stab it, alarmed, questions running through their mind at a million miles an hour (specifically, when did it start following them?)..... the estate miles behind them goes up in flames in an explosion, the shockwave of which they can feel because they're still relatively close. and they realize it then: kagaya used them as bait, to guide muzan to him.

fury (fuck you fuck you fuck you why would you put that on them, why would you do this to them, kagaya?), despair (no no no no please please please don't take their father figure from them please he's all they have left outside of the twins), utter confusion (why them? why did this plan have to include them?).......

Ough. yeah

they respect him so much but they're so furious he would put that kind of burden on them, but they also are glad it was them because that enabled them to see him just one last time. Sighhhh

#✧— aphe's letters from alyssa.#if 10k words becomes my standard for hydrangeas chapters (idk if it will but HYPOTHETICALLY)#.....then i have over like. 200k words until i get to this point in the storyline HAHAHAH

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kifaya · 10 months ago

Note

Hi, I hope you're doing well. I'm writing to you with a heavy heart and an urgent request for help. My family is in a very danger situation due to the ongoing war, and I've launched a GoFundMe campaign to save them. Could you please share my campaign post from my profile? Each share could be a lifeline for my family. 🙏 Feel free to share it in any other social media platform if you would like. Our campaign has been verified ⭐️ by operation olive branch, and is entry number 26 on their spreadsheet. Also with ⭐️ Project watermelon,line 249/(212) on their spreadsheet. From the bottom of my heart I want to thank you in advance for all of your support and kindness.

Of course I'll share!

Haya is from Gaza, and has a family of 8 members: they moved from northern to southern Gaza, hoping to go back home one day, but their home was destroyed.

"The night before we left from the north to the south was terrifying. Shelling sounds were everywhere, making a loud noise that felt like it went through our souls. Every explosions shook the ground like earthquakes, sending shockwaves of fear through our trembling bodies. filling us with fear. The air smelled of destruction and blood, making it hard to breathe. When dawn came, we saw the devastation around us, realizing our home was now a symbol of loss and despair."

Haya, suffers from severe allergy to penicillin-derived medications, and her sister, Amal, also suffers from severe allergies to medications such as Paracetamol and Ibuprofen. They fear of being given inappropriate medications due to the unavailability of suitable treatments in Gaza, and not being able to inform doctors about all this.

Haya's father owned a food factory that produced a popular dish called "Maf'toul," named "Couscos Al-Sham." He established it in 1996 and distributed its products to all markets in the Gaza Strip, both north and south. Recently, he was seeking to export his product outside the Gaza Strip. However, when the war came, his factory was completely destroyed, ceased operation, and Haya's father's income became zero.

They're freelancing graphic designers and programmers, but their workplace was destroyed too. Haya's younger sister was studying to become an architect and built a more beautiful Gaza, but even the universities got bombed. "Despite this, she continues to dream, working diligently to rebuild Gaza, to achieve her vision of a city full of life and beauty. Her story remains a story of resilience and hope, carrying within it a strong determination to succeed despite all challenges."

The goal of this fundraising campaign is to rescue Haya's family through the Rafah Crossing to Egypt, which currently requires $5000 per person.

Breakdown of Expenses

• Passport fees: €135 per person (a total of €945 for seven family members)

• Rafah/Egypt crossing: €5000 per person (a total of €35,000 for seven family members)

• Minimum living costs: €1,700 per month (a total of €10,200 for six months)

THIS CAMPAIGN HAS BEEN VETTED BY OPERATION OLIVE BRANCH.

#fundraiser #go fund them #i stand with palestine #palestine fundraiser #palestine genocide #free palestine #palestine #free gaza #gaza #gaza strip

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learnandturn · 10 months ago

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Please help Haya get her family to safety. I started this blog to be a studyblr and am mutuals with a lot of studyblrs. Think of all of the students and their families stuck in Gaza. Their universities are destroyed and their lives are in danger. Haya's family has only reached 81,114 of the 100,000 they need to get to safety. If you are able, please help them reunite with their brother in Belgium.

From Haya's campaign:

Dear Humanity,

I'm Haya from Gaza , from a family of 8 people: my parents, two sons, and four daughters (two of them suffer from allergies).

Our home it was where we found hope, safety, and made precious memories. Losing it felt like losing years of our lives, leaving us adrift amidst the wreckage of our shattered existence.

Desperate Plea: Escaping Gaza's Allergy Nightmare

I, Haya, suffer from severe allergy to penicillin-derived medications, and my sister, Amal, also suffers from severe allergies to medications from my family such as Paracetamol and Ibuprofen.

This situation breeds a storm of doubts and worries, so we appeal to you to help us leave Gaza and rid ourselves of the anxiety and fear due to allergies.

Our dreams are heading towards oblivion in the labyrinth of an uncertain future

My story, along with my siblings, represents a united team of four individuals, three of whom are skilled programmers and one graphic designer. We work as freelancers in the world of freelancing.

As we sway amidst the rubble of shattered dreams, our souls wrestle and our hearts beat strongly challenging the ravages of war.

Perhaps this fundraising campaign represents a light in the midst of darkness, it is indeed the only hope we cling to firmly.

I appeal to the world as a whole to hear my cry and the mournful cry of my family in Gaza. We need the helping hand that reaches out to wipe our tears and build a bridge to safety.

Your donation is not just a donation; it's an opportunity to rebuild life and brighten a better tomorrow. Be part of our hopeful story, for we need your hand to start anew.

The purpose of the fundraising campaign

Breakdown of Expenses

• Passport fees: €135 per person (a total of €945 for seven family members)

• Rafah/Egypt crossing: €5000 per person (a total of €35,000 for seven family members)

• Minimum living costs: €1,700 per month (a total of €10,200 for six months)

Thank you for your kindness and support.

.جزاكم الله خيراً

yours sincerely;

Haya Alshawish.

#palestine #free palestine #free gaza

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dunnodk · 9 months ago

Text

Chapter 1 - Running for his life

In the wilderness of the Greater World

Crack!

A young-looking man can be seen running through a forest at high speeds, such that normal people would only see an afterimage.

The young man had an average appearance, and in a world where handsome men and beautiful women were everywhere, his face could even be called unattractive.

Whoosh!

A whooshing sound came from behind. The young man quickly changed directions and jumped to the left, barely avoiding an energy fist that went past his head and smashed into a tree.

Boom!

The tree instantly turned to dust, and the resulting shockwave slightly destabilized the young man's footing, but he quickly leaned forward and continued running. Not a moment later, a bullet filled with mental energy, enough to level a building, went behind the young man's head, breaking a few of his hair strands.

'Dammit.' The young man cursed in his mind, but continued running.

A swordlight destroyed the environment in front of him, forcing him to slide to a stop. Before the young man could even completely stop and stabilize his footing, an explosion from something landing behind him, and rising a cloud of smoke, sent him flying.

Without giving him time to catch his bearings, a fist, aimed at his head, came from the smoke cloud, intending to crush his skull. The young man dodged the fist at an impossible angle, surprising the buff old man who just tried to kill him.

As the young man tried to regain his balance in mid-air, another swordlight attacked him. Again, the young man avoided the swordlight at an impossible angle, and just as he landed, another energy fist came flying at him.

Unable to dodge after just landing, and unable to defend with his preoccupied hands, the young man could only send a kick at the energy fist, which sent him flying through the air once again. As the young man landed, he ignored the pain in his leg and continued running.

'How did this happen?' Despairing thoughts started overwhelming the young man's mind, but he pushed them to the back of his mind. However, those thoughts, along with guilt and regret, came back as he glanced at the heavily injured woman in his arms.

"Guild Leader cough, just leave me behind. Save yourself." The red haired woman with an alluring figure in his arms tried to convince the young man, as she coughed up blood.

"Don't say anything, just save your strength. I'll get us out of this." Said the young man to the woman, who was bleeding profusely, trying to sound calm. However, his shaky voice, heavy breathing, and pained expression didn't convince the woman.

Another swordlight came at the young man from behind. He tried to dodge it, for the god knows what time today, however, with his previous injuries and now injured leg, his dodge wasn't as flawless as before; and his shoulder ended up getting cut.

As if that wasn't bad enough, the swordlight had corrosive energy which he had to push out of his system, which wasted his own energy and concentration, which was being continuously attacked by mental attacks.

"How can you geezers be this shameless!" The young man shouted at his attackers in rage as he continued running.

But the only response he received was an energy fist.

"Brat, you can only blame yourself." The buff old man answered with a laugh, however, he was also feeling extremely bitter and frustrated that they were ganging up on a kid.

They were all proud experts who had surpassed the Three-star Mental Strength Grandmaster standard, and were peerless even among other Great Grandmasters, yet they had to work together to kill a single person, who was barely in his thirties.

If news of this was to get out, even if none dared to say anything out loud, they'd surely laugh at them in private.

However, circumstances have forced them, and there was no going back now. When someone breaks through to the Mental Strength Great Grandmaster standard, they fuse their energy with the world and unlock special abilities. This was why they were trying to kill the young man.

Normally, no matter what kind of ability someone unlocked, these proud individuals wouldn't care. However, the ability this young man that they were hunting unlocked was too frightening, so much so that one of their peers, who had prediction abilities which have never been wrong, had predicted there would be a disaster, without even knowing what the ability the young man had unlocked is.

Originally, they were doubtful even when that person stressed how important it was to eliminate the young man, however, to respect their peer who had never been wrong, they investigated the young man.

The more they looked into him the more interested and less doubtful they became, so they decided to take action. And when they did, all of their doubts disappeared.

Indeed that old man had never been wrong, and now was no exception. The simple proof was that the young man was still alive.

The young man was none other than Shi Feng. Even though he hadn't completely broken through to the Great Grandmaster standard, and only unlocked an ability, he was still able to survive an onslaught from these old monsters, which made them think he had already broken through.

If they knew they were putting this much effort into killing a Mental Strength Pseudo-Great Grandmaster, god knew what they'd do, so Shi Feng thought it best not to correct their thinking.

While in the process of breaking through, he was called for an emergency meeting by his close allies. Though a bit suspicious, he didn't think any of them would betray him.

They were all close allies and friends who wouldn't betray him even if their lives or guilds were threatened, so he didn't think any of them would betray him. LET ALONE ALL OF THEM!

However, when he got there and saw the guilt in their eyes, he immediately knew something was wrong. But before he could react, he was ambushed by these old bastards. Even though he defended himself, he was injured, and an old assassin took the chance to try and kill him.

Thankfully, Fire Dance had accompanied him and saved Shi Feng from a strike that should have killed him. But due to the huge difference in strength between her and the assassin, she ended up lethally wounded.

As she was about to die, Shi Feng intervened and managed to save her before escaping; while being attacked and injured by the assassin and the other old monsters.

Thinking about the traitors, rage overwhelmed Shi Feng's mind; but he tried to calm himself by remembering their eyes full of guilt.

He knew they wouldn't betray him even if their lives were threatened, or they would have at least tried to somehow inform him while pretending. However, it's a different story if their families or close ones were to be threatened.

As the buff old man said, Shi Feng could only blame himself for being careless.

But his mind was once again overwhelmed with despair and guilt as he glanced at Fire Dance, who was barely still alive.

'Was he going to die here?' Such thoughts permeated in his mind, causing him him to lose focus and get more injuries.

Shi Feng suppressed those thoughts, knowing it was the ability of one of the old monsters hunting him. He had previously tried to kill the woman with that ability, but the others pushed him back, forcing him to aimlessly run into the wilderness of the Greater World for hours; until he got into the situation he was in now.

'Dammit, if I had broken through, I could have already killed all these fuckers.' Despite trying to keep a calm mind, rage resurfaced, and because of his tired mind, he didn't notice it was being amplified.

'Got him.' An old woman smirked while running after Shi Feng, but still keeping a safe distance from him at all times; thus preventing him from attacking her, which caused further rage in his mind 'He's beginning to lose it. Hasten your attacks.' The old woman sent a mental message to the other attackers.

'Witch, don't order me around.' The buff old man replied as he sent another, but stronger energy fist at Shi Feng's back.

This is what they were waiting for. For this woman to cause chaos in Shi Feng's emotions. Now when they sent stronger attacks and injured him even more, those thoughts will cause him to lose even more focus, slowly breaking him.

With Shi Feng's tired mind and body, after being on complete alert and fighting opponents at a higher realm from him for hours, he will start to fall apart.

Shi Feng knew that too, but there was nothing he could do…

He could only try his best to survive for as long as possible, and hope for a miracle. To try to create a miracle like he always did. But deep down, he knew that he was really screwed this time. Even if he somehow managed to break through to the Great Grandmaster stage right now, he was too injured. Sooner or later, they would still get him. He might unlock a second ability, but he doubted something like that would happen.

The only thing he could do was hope that Fire Dance could recover enough to run away while he slowed them down, but…

He glanced down at her, who was barely hanging on by a thread. Sensing his gaze, Fire Dance opened her eyes slightly, and seeing the guilt and worry in Shi Feng's eyes, she put on a loving smile. She wanted to speak, but she couldn't.

Oh how she wanted to tell him…

#RSSG #action #romance

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mothimino · 11 months ago

Note

Hi, I hope you're doing well. ❤️ I'm writing to you with fully of hope to help me and my family. My family is in a very danger situation due to the ongoing war, and I've launched a GoFundMe campaign to save them. 😢 Could you please share my campaign post from my profile? Each share could be a lifeline for my family. 🙏 Feel free to share it in any other social media platform if you would like. Our campaign has been verified by operation olive branch, and is entry number 26 on their spreadsheet. From the bottom of my heart I want to thank you in advance for all of your support and kindness.

Emergency: Help Evacuate My Family From GAZA WAR

Dear Humanity,

I'm Haya from Gaza , from a family of 8 people: my parents, two sons, and four daughters (two of them suffer from allergies).

Donate to Emergency: Help Evacuate My Family From GAZA WAR, organized by Ahmed Alshawish

Dear Humanity, I'm Haya from Gaza , from a family of 8 people: my… Ahmed Alshawish needs your support for Emergency: Help Evacuate My Fa

gofundme.com

Our home it was where we found hope, safety, and made precious memories. Losing it felt like losing years of our lives, leaving us adrift amidst the wreckage of our shattered existence.

A brief video depicting the devastation that struck our home and our entire neighborhood in Gaza.

Desperate Plea: Escaping Gaza's Allergy Nightmare

I, Haya, suffer from severe allergy to penicillin-derived medications, and my sister, Amal, also suffers from severe allergies to medications from my family such as Paracetamol and Ibuprofen.

MY Father Income

Our dreams are heading towards oblivion in the labyrinth of an uncertain future

My story, along with my siblings, represents a united team of four individuals, three of whom are skilled programmers and one graphic designer. We work as freelancers in the world of freelancing.

As we sway amidst the rubble of shattered dreams, our souls wrestle and our hearts beat strongly challenging the ravages of war.

Perhaps this fundraising campaign represents a light in the midst of darkness, it is indeed the only hope we cling to firmly.

I appeal to the world as a whole to hear my cry and the mournful cry of my family in Gaza. We need the helping hand that reaches out to wipe our tears and build a bridge to safety.

Your donation is not just a donation; it's an opportunity to rebuild life and brighten a better tomorrow. Be part of our hopeful story, for we need your hand to start anew.

The purpose of the fundraising campaign

Donate to Emergency: Help Evacuate My Family From GAZA WAR, organized by Ahmed Alshawish

Dear Humanity, I'm Haya from Gaza , from a family of 8 people: my… Ahmed Alshawish needs your support for Emergency: Help Evacuate My Fa

gofundme.com

Verified by :

⭐️ operation olive branch, number 26 on their spreadsheet. (On Master list)

⭐️ Project watermelon,line 249 on their spreadsheet. Or you could see it as number 212 here is the photo for more clear proof

Thank you for your kindness and support.

.جزاكم الله خيراً

yours sincerely;

Haya Alshawish.

#free palestine

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starlightandtherain · 1 year ago

Text

Parting Note

The world around me seems to fade into a blur, the colors losing their vibrance, the sounds muffling into a distant hum. My thoughts grow heavy, an anchor dragging me down into the depths of despair. I yearn for an escape, a release from the shackles of this suffocating existence. I found myself dwelling on unconventional exits, and each becoming stranger than the last.

Should I sprint towards a running vehicle, hoping that would leave a loud red impression on the asphalt? The revelation would hit like an earthquake, leaving onlookers in a stunned silence, their faces contorted in disbelief. The shockwaves might be so intense that some would feel an instinctive urge to gouge their eyes out, as if attempting to unsee the startling truth, as though vision itself were a burden too heavy to bear.

Or perhaps I could continue my streak of attracting the wrong guys. I could be a candle burning for an extended period until it exhausts its wick, reaching a point where even my therapist might need to throw a wet towel over me. Alternatively, my heartbreaks could be the spark that sets the whole world on fire. I'd watch as the flames lick the edges of my body, leaving behind the ashes of what was once a well-taken-care-of home.

Or being the clown that I am, I could join a circus and become the human cannonball, launching myself into the unknown with a cacophony of confetti and the unsettling cheers of the audience. Perhaps I could also enroll in a secret agent academy, hoping that the thrill of espionage would be the perfect distraction from the existential ennui.

I pondered the possibility of joining a pack of wandering nomads, traveling the world with only an accordion, singing songs of liberation to the wind. Or maybe I'd become a hermit on a remote island, embracing solitude and surviving solely on coconuts until an array of tropical creatures, like bright plum parrots or capuchin monkeys, feast upon the remnants of my mortal shell, my corpse turning into a banquet for the inhabitants of the jungle.

Then there's the option of embracing my body's natural deterioration. Maybe I'll become a connoisseur of peculiar poisons, chasing the most exotic toxins like a sommelier of self-destruction. But, alas, I might just opt for the slow burn and place my fate in the hands of the ancient custodian of time—old age. I'll wait patiently, refusing to set an alarm, hoping to drift into eternal slumber while my wrinkles exchange stories with the passing years.

But life, in all its complexity and fragility, is a precious gift, a journey worth embarking upon. Though the path may be fraught with challenges, I need to push through and fight all the demons within. In the end, these things would all make sense.

I wrote this piece while thinking of unpleasant thoughts, with the song "It All Makes Sense" by The Ridleys playing in my mind. The line "it seems like everyone around me knows their place" resonated as I pondered why I still found myself stuck in the process of figuring things out. The picture accompanying this piece was captured with my film camera, although I've since forgotten which film roll I was using at the time. In the end everything will make sense. I am a fighter, always rising from the ashes.

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cyberrose2001 · 2 years ago

Note

Girl, I have a good one for you. If you recall the episode s2 ep21 in TFP when Prime got the Starsaber destroyed. He had a bit of an attitude at the end. Sure, everyone could understand why, but it makes you curious.

Place a f!human reader, supposely close to him. She cannot stand him acting this way and basically yells and bitches at him. In the end, he argues back which frighten her since she hasn't seen him mad. She runs only for him to come and apologize leading to confession and a nice NSFW!!

Consequences

TFP Optimus x human!fem!reader

I'm so sorry that this took waaay longer than intended, my word doc glitched and didn't save half of it so I had to rewrite the rest from memory :(

Either way, Medli, your requests are always so delicious to write, and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Overstimulation, orgasm denial, oral sex.

Word count: 2531

You can't stand him being like this, cold and distant. Optimus had just returned from retrieving the first set of the precious Omega keys that supposedly would revive Cybertron, but only with great sacrifice.

It was bad enough that Optimus thought he had lost another team member at the hands of Megatron, our rookie who tends to bite off more than he can chew. He hid his emotions well, but at that point, you could tell in his optics that he was about to snap. A force that you were sure would send shockwaves throughout the team and across the cosmos.

You knew that impact was evident when you watched Optimus walk through the ground bridge with a shattered Star Saber. A powerful weapon forged by the Primes solely delivered for Optimus's use is now destroyed, broken beyond repair. You can feel his EM field in the air, instantly dampening the atmosphere in the room. It's heavy, laden with sorrow and, worst of all, silent.

He hadn't said a word to you. Not even a glance or a nod. Nothing, nada. He skipped past everyone's worried looks and made a bee-line to the base computer, where the next set of Iacon coordinates remained projected onto the screen, waiting for him to decode them. The emotions on Optimus's face were difficult to read, a mixture of despair, desolation and, most of all, focus, all colliding behind these brilliantly blue optics you've come to love and drown yourself in.

But those hardened eyes won't prevent you from giving him a stern talking-to. You've grown close with the stoic leader for the short time you've known him compared to his potential billion-year lifespan. You're not afraid to tell him to take a break or say things how it was, no matter his intellect. And right now, the Prime needs a break.

You slowly approach him from behind. Even when he is helm deep in the monitor's circuits, you are sure he can still hear you. After all, Archivists were the eyes and ears of his home planet. You give him a light tap on his pede to try and draw his attention to you.

"Hey." You call out to him. His frame is unmoving, delicate servos feverishly typing away. He hadn't seemed to notice you, or maybe he was ignoring you. You give him another firm tap of your foot, which turns into kicking.

"HEY!" You yell to him, "I know your ears work. Get your head out of the computer and stop ignoring me!"

That got his attention. His servos stopped in their tracks, but his back still faced you. He seems to be listening.

"You need to take a break. You're overworking yourself." You fold your arms, "Those coordinates can wait. You can't decode them properly while your processor fries from lack of recharge."

"I'm fine." He says bluntly, not even bothering to turn and look at you.

If there's one thing you hate more than being ignored, it's when Optimus lies through his teeth.

"Optimus, you're not fucking fine!" In frustration, you throw your hands in the air, "Don't lie to me because I know when you do. Ever since you got back, you've totally ignored everyone… your team… even me! You're being a total bitch to everyone that actually cares about you. That's not who you are. Now, it's best that you get your head out of your aft and that damn computer and get some fucking rest!"

Now that struck a chord. Optimus spins around fast, slamming a fist into the concrete floor next to you and sending debris into the air, some almost hitting your face. He crouches close to your frame, harsh ex-vents grace over your body, and whips your hair around. But you stand your ground, albeit slightly terrified at the change of Optimus's demeanour.

"I do not suppose you believe Megatron wouldn't stop at nothing to get his claws on the next Iacon relics?" He growls. He's so close to you that you can see every dent and imperfection on his faceplate, some from his most recent battle with the Decepticon tyrant, "I will NOT stop until I decode the remaining coordinates. I will not let you or anyone prevent me from doing so. So if you would be so kind…"

He looms closer to you. He's growling at you. You step back but almost trip on the rubble scattered behind you, "Leave me alone."

You're trembling because of two potential reasons. Optimus has never raised his voice or got angry at you, not even at the other bots. And the second is the ungodly amount of blood rushing to your loins. You're at his mercy under his gaze. While you are surprisingly horny, you're intimidated by the pinpoint optics burning holes in your body.

"Fine. You wanna be left alone? Then I'll leave you alone." Your own fists are clenching now. You can't look vulnerable before him, "Come find me when you're not busy making out with the computer screen."

And with your final blow, you turn on your heel and storm out of the base, ignoring the wide-eyed faces of the other bots, who had unfortunately witnessed the whole thing. You didn't care where you were running to; you just needed to get out of there and blow off some steam. Something that Optimus should be doing as well.

Optimus watched you run out of the base, his optics softening a fraction. While what he said about not resting until he decodes the rest of the coordinates was true, Optimus caught himself lying when he told you to leave. You were the only thing preventing him from breaking down and losing his shit. You are why he hasn't locked himself in a stasis pod and cranked the dial to ten billion years so that he doesn't have to endure a moment longer of this Primus-forsaken war.

But watching the human he loved run away from him, he realised his mistake. Optimus has just pushed away the only human tethering him to the edge of a self-hatred cliff, and he's just cut the cord.

He releases his death grip on the crumbled floor, letting the pebbles fall out of the servos. You probably hate him now. You probably don't even want to see him again, and he doesn't blame you. But the least he could do was apologise before you leave for good.

Your feet are starting to ache. You know you've been walking for a while when there's nothing but desert sand and the worn-down asphalt of the road to keep you company.

You hadn't meant what you said to Optimus to come out so harsh. Most of the time, when you would first tell him to recharge, he would be reluctant but would oblige. Tough love was your philosophy. But this time, your philosophy may have been a step too far today. You greatly underestimated how stressed the Prime was. That was a mistake on your part. That fact that he was grieving the potential loss of a teammate and the weapon that could win the war? It would've helped if you were more understanding and compassionate.

You should turn back; the sun was beginning to set. It looks beautiful, and you wish Optimus was here because you know he would enjoy this as much as you do.

Speak of the devil. A low rumbling noise grows louder from some distance behind you; you know it's Optimus. Most likely coming to banish you from the base for how you spoke to him.

He rolls behind you and flashes his high beam, and you stop. You can feel and hear him transform behind you, but you don't turn to look at him because you feel ashamed.

"Optimus, I'm sorry for how I spoke to you." You take a deep breath and cradle your arms to your stomach, "I… I didn't realise how troubled you are about…"

A cold servo wraps around your shoulder, sending goosebumps across your body. Optimus carefully spins you around to face him, and he oozes your exact amount of regret. His optics cast a brilliant glow across your form, and the remaining flickers of the sunset reflect off his metal, casting him in an orange hue.

"Y/n, I should be the one who apologises." His downturned dermas hurt your heart, "There was no justification for my actions. I should not have lashed out at you the way I did."

"But there was justification for it, and I was careless about your feelings." You say, bringing a hand to the servo resting on your shoulder, "I shouldn't have said those things, I realise now."

A small smile creeps into the corner of Optimus's dermas, "Perhaps not, and while I am very saddened by today's events, I do not think you realise how much your words encourage me."

"But…" You're cut off by a smooth thumb brushing over your cheek.

"I should have told you this a long time ago, but… Primus, you are the only thing in this universe holding me together." He takes a sharp intake, "I love you more than anything."

Your breath catches in your throat. Optimus, the greatest warrior to ever grace this Earth, just confessed to you. In the middle of the desert, when the temperature is dropping but you don't even feel it because the warm glow of his optics and his confession sparks a fire in your chest.

"Optimus… I do… I love you… I." You struggle to find the words—instead, you involuntary shiver.

Of course, Optimus notices and give you a slight chuckle, "It is getting cold. May you accompany me back to base?"

You nod, and instantly, he transforms into his alt mode, leaving the passenger door open for you and you make haste and climb in, and he buckles the seat belt for you. Staring out the window to witness the last of the sunset, resting your head against the window as Optimus turns his heater on for you. You sigh in contentment as he pulls onto the road and journeys home.

"OptiMUUS… hngh… please." You whine from the bed and tug at the restraints on your wrists, soft, breathless begging as Optimus's grip on your thighs tightens and relaxes with every swipe of his glossa.

You could say that this was a form of payback, a playful punishment from when you yelled at him earlier. Even though he had forgiven you for saying those harsh words, he told you on the way home that he still needed to "put you in your place". At the time, you had no idea what that entailed, but little did you know the method Optimus liked to 'punish' you was to edge you on the cusp of euphoria multiple times only to deny you of any orgasm.

It was torture, but you kind of deserved it.

"P-Please, fuck…" You beg, writhing your hips as Optimus drags his glossa around your folds, then circles your clit, "I can't- no more… FUCK."

It was an endless back-and-forth pattern. Optimus would lick your folds and collect your fluids on his glossa before dragging it back to your clit, circling it and increasing the pressure momentarily. And just when you were so close to cumming he would stop teasing the bundle of nerves and go back to licking strips up your pussy. You tried rocking your hips desperately to chase the high, but it was in vain as he would instantly pull away and watch as your hips writhe around to find friction.

"I do believe you are close. Am I correct to assume so?" Optimus grins, pressing light kisses to the inside of your thigh and, in turn, smearing your fluids over your soft sweaty skin.

"You asshole," You groan as he presses a firm kiss to your clit, "You know I am-aahHHH!"

Your whine cuts you off as Optimus wraps his dermas around your clit and gives you a harsh suck, and rolls it around his denta.

"I do not like your choice of words, Y/n." He growls against your clit, sending vibrations throughout your body, "I am not the 'asshole' you speak of."

The sucking at your clit sends electrical shocks through your thighs, making them shake and clench around his helm. Your hands find purchase on the berth under you, and you grip the sheet so hard you can feel it rip. You can feel him smiling against your mound as you thrust your hips into his intake, finally feeling your orgasm wash over you. It was sweet relief from a long two hours of edging, and you weren't sure how much longer you could've handled his glossa torturing you.

Optimus lifts his helm from your pussy, and you're trying so hard not to whine as you watch him lick up a string of arousal still attached to his dermas.

"F-Fuck…" You whimper, hips stuttering. The torment is finally over, you think. But you were severely wrong when you felt a cold digit rub at your folds, and he pushed it inside. You cry in overstimulation as he curls the digit, pressing against your G-Spot in a mind-numbing, relentless thrust. Similar to Megatrons antics in retrieving those Iacon relics, this bastard is stopping at nothing until he retrieves every last orgasm from your trembling body.

Optimus chuckles as you throw your head back and try to maneuver your hips away from his servos. He's enjoying watching you become an overstimulated mess, he's getting a high out of it, and it's taking all your strength not to slap him in the helm. You love him, but this is getting too much for you.

"You seem to be enjoying your punishment, hm?" Optimus smirks and strums his thumb to your already hyper-sensitive clit, "It certainly looks that way. I wonder if I can make you overload again."

You let out a string of swears as he thrusts his digit with haste, his thumb circling your clit and increasing the pressure. The wet sounds between your thighs are lewd and only add to your pleasure. The room becomes hazy and distant as you clench around his digit, and a second orgasm slams your body within the span of two minutes. Optimus lets out a guttural groan as he feels your walls clench around his digit; Primus knows what it would feel like with his throbbing spike inside you.

Optimus watches as you pant, sweat covering your entire skin. He gives a breathless laugh and leans down to kiss your soft lips, his glossa transferring some of your fluids onto your tongue. During the kiss, he groans as he slowly drags his digit out of your dripping pussy and relishes the little whine you give him.

"You're mean." You groan out against his intake. Your body is exhausted from his torment, and you're sure he can feel your muscles quivering against his plating. He innocently chuckles as if he hadn't just made a mess of you.

"I can assure you this was a one-off. No more torment, love." Optimus kisses your forehead, servos tracing circles on your thighs, "But on this occasion, you needed to know the consequences of your actions in future."

#transformers prime #tfp optimus #tfp optimus x human reader #tfp optimus x reader #valveplug

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