#Crash Midnight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

just-here-with-my-thoughts · 3 months

Text

Day 19: "Please Don't" / Adrenaline Crash

@febuwhump prompt: "Please Don't" @badthingshappenbingo prompt: Adrenaline Crash

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Hunter, Omega, Wrecker, Tech, Echo (Did you read Day 5: Rope Burns / Bound & Gagged and Day 12: Semi-Conscious / Over-the-Shoulder Carry? This is a continuation! Follow the links above to catch up on the story so far) Word Count: ~3005 Click here to read on AO3 Also available in Russian (with thanks to @tech-o-mania for the amazing translation!)

Synopsis: Hunter loses control as he hunts down the mercenaries who captured and injured Omega.

Art by the awesome @collophora of my gorgeous Feral Hunter! Thank you so much for this beautiful pic and letting me post it with my fic, everyone go view collophora's original post HERE and tell them how great they are! <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Omega swings her legs as she sits on the edge of the table, watching as Tech methodically extracts embedded strands of hessian from the wound on her left wrist. Her right is already swathed in bandages, the bacta gel bringing a soothing numbness that dulls the pulsing pain to a background throb.

She draws her breath in as a hiss though her teeth at a particularly painful pull, and Tech glances at her to check she is okay. He doesn’t continue until she nods to give him permission to do so.

The com at the engineer’s wrist crackles to life. “Come in, Tech.” It is Wrecker’s voice, low and urgent.

Tech pauses his ministrations to answer the com. “What is it, Wrecker?”

“I need backup.”

The big clone’s voice over the com is deadly serious, none of his usual joviality.

“What is your status?” asks Tech, his voice taking on a more clipped edge.

“It’s Hunter.”

Tech quickly looks up at Echo, and Omega doesn’t miss the alarmed look that passes between them.

“Will you and Omega be alright by yourselves?” Tech asks, putting the tweezers back in the medkit and standing.

Echo nods, resting a hand on Omega’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about us. Go help Wrecker.”

“Help Wrecker with what?” asks Omega, getting to her feet and looking first at Tech, then Echo. “Are they in trouble?”

“You are still in need of treatment,” says Echo firmly, trying for a smile which comes out too tense to be reassuring. “I’m sure Tech will manage without us.” He gestures back to the table. “Sit back up, and I’ll finish your wrists.”

Tech is gathering his equipment, and Omega leans past Echo to see him set his pistol to stun.

“I want to go with Tech,” she protests softly. “I want to check that Hunter and Wrecker are okay.”

Echo and Tech exchange another look. Omega is getting pretty tired of the unspoken conversations they share with their eyes.

“Finish attending to Omega’s wounds,” says Tech eventually. “Then you may follow… carefully.”

Hunter’s pistol is in his left hand, balanced on his forearm which is crossed in front of his body, vibroknife held blade outwards. The hum of adrenaline is in his veins, pulse pounding, slowly building to a tense knot of pain at the base of his skull which will surely become a migraine later.

Two more mercenaries up ahead, just out of sight. He can hear them.

Hunter doesn’t have to think about softening his footfalls. The predator’s stealth comes naturally to him.

In moments he is around the corner and the two men are ten paces ahead, weapons out as they scout the corridor.

They don’t know that death shadows their movements.

In his ear, the com pings. Hunter shakes his head, shutting it off irritably. Not now. Whatever his brothers want, it can wait.

He rolls to his toes, picking up speed. Closes the gap in a sprint.

One shot with his pistol. The laser-burn eats through the first man’s skull. The second turns but Hunter is on him, and the vibroknife tears out his throat before he can cry for help.

Hunter pauses for a moment, surveys his work. That makes four of them he has eliminated now. Four of them who harmed his Omega. Four of them who will never threaten her again.

A high-pitched whine, like tinnitus, sets up in his head. He pulls his helmet off, rubbing his ears, trying to chase away the source of the sound.

His helmet is dropped to the floor, forgotten, as he sets off to find the rest of his quarries.

Tech tilts his datapad towards Wrecker. “I have picked up the bounty hunters’ com channel. They seem concerned that they cannot raise a number of their companions.”

Wrecker looks up from fitting binders to the two mercenaries he has captured. “Hunter won’t waste any time,” he says gruffly.

“He may have deactivated his com, but I can still track his locator beacon,” says Tech. “Leave these two here. We must catch up to Hunter as soon as we can.”

Hunter crouches on the narrow gangway, watching the knot of mercenaries in the hangar below. Five left. Their conversation drifts to him but it is just noise. He can’t make his head understand the words.

It doesn’t matter what they are saying. Hunter will be among them soon, and their words will give way to screams and then they will be dead. He plans to make sure of that.

The migraine closes its vice-like grip on his consciousness and Hunter pulls his bandana off, trying to ease the pressure at his temples. A faint aurora halos his vision, sparkling in the periphery. His back teeth ache.

He creeps along the perforated metal walkway, feeling it sway a little from the suspension cables that keep it aloft. He holsters the pistol, curling the fingers of that hand around the rail instead. His right hand continues to clutch the vibroknife like it is an extension of himself.

Almost directly above them. From here he can drop onto the group, break his fall with one of their bodies, before wreaking his vengeance.

Hunter climbs silently to the railing. Leans over the edge, gravity pulling at his body, braced now on the outside of the walkway.

Ready to drop.

Echo spots the pair of bodies before Omega does. He stops her with a hand on her shoulder and ventures forwards cautiously, already knowing what he will find.

He is surprised to see the half-skull of Hunter’s helmet staring up at him from between the fallen mercenaries. He scoops it up and checks the wiring. The com is undamaged. It has been deliberately disabled.

Behind him he hears Omega.

“Tech, come in. Did you find Wrecker and Hunter?”

She has her bandaged hands pressed to her com, trying to raise her brothers. Echo hurries back to her, Hunter’s helmet in hand. Omega’s eyes go wide as she sees it.

“Is Hunter okay?” she asks in a fearful whisper, reaching out to brush the side of the helmet. The fresh bandages across her palms come away stained red.

“Don’t worry,” mutters Echo, “it’s not his blood.”

There is a moment of confusion before the meaning of his words dawns on Omega. She leans past him to peer down the corridor. Two bounty hunters. Not unconscious. Dead.

“Oh,” she says in a small voice. Then, looking up at him with a determined frown, “We need to find Hunter.”

Wrecker and Tech press tightly to the door-frame, one on either side of the corridor that has brought them to this hangar. Tech’s datapad says this is where Hunter should be, but all they can see are the clustered mercenaries.

Wrecker is the first one to look up. His hands move in a quick signal sequence, drawing Tech’s attention to their brother in his ambush position.

“Hunter,” breathes Tech. And as though it is a command, Hunter drops.

The chaos is immediate. Hunter is amongst the mercenaries, pistol forgotten, knife indiscriminately biting through cloth and armour into flesh. Panicked cries answer his sudden appearance. Blaster fire greets him.

Tech and Wrecker recognise Hunter’s grunt of pain like it is their own. They take a single moment to share a nod, and then they too join the fray.

Wrecker charges in, shoulder down, crashing into a mercenary and knocking him away from Hunter. Tech skirts the edge of the hanger, diving into a roll to evade a stray blaster bolt. He comes up with his pistol ready, gaze flitting over the knot of combatants before choosing his target. He knows this is the quickest way to end this.

Omega’s voice comes over the com but doesn’t answer. He needs all his considerable wits about him if he wants to take down his younger brother.

He steadies his aim.

He fires at Hunter.

Somewhere beyond the roaring in his ears Hunter is dimly aware that he is injured. There is a lingering trace of heat as the laser-burn crawls against his skin, softened from deadly to merely painful by the layer of his armour. It slows him, but he doesn’t let it stop him.

He ducks a wild haymaker meant to knock him to the ground and comes up inside the man’s guard. The mercenary yells as Hunter’s forehead connects with his nose, blood gouting from the broken cartilage, and Hunter winces at the shout pierces his already tender headache.

The migraine is stabbing behind his eyes now, his vision winking in and out in bright flashes. He has to finish this fight soon, or he won’t be able to.

The sudden jolt of a stun blast catches him in the back. He feels the sensation ripple forwards across his chest, electric, followed by numbness. The blast threatens to short out his enhanced senses.

With difficulty he fights the blackness that follows the stun bolt, dragging his awareness back to the fight. Two others still standing. To his surprise, he realises Wrecker is one of them.

Then Hunter feels an attacker leap onto his back. He howls in panic and anger; instinct directs him to dip his body, rolling the assailant over his shoulder. He grabs them and slams them into the floor, a blow designed to stun.

Recognises the helmet. The goggles.

“Tech?” he slurs in confusion.

And, “TECH!” The shout is echoed by Wrecker, scooping up their fallen brother.

The final mercenary takes advantage of the distraction. Two blaster bolts hit into Wrecker’s back, staggering him, and he clutches Tech to his chest protectively. Hunter watches as the bounty hunter retreats, fleeing for the bikes they came in on.

His prey's footsteps are still reverberating at the edge of Hunter’s enhanced hearing when others approach from behind him. He whirls, sees Echo and Omega.

“What happened?” demands Echo, crossing to Hunter. With one hand he pushes Omega behind him, making sure she doesn’t step round and see the Sergeant. Doesn’t see the feral gleam in his eyes, the sharp and dangerous expression of his open-mouthed panting.

“I’ll find him.” Hunter’s voice is a subhuman growl. “I’ll end it.”

Omega paces anxiously, glancing towards the farthest exit to the hanger. Tech is conscious but dazed, propped up against a storage crate as Echo checks his pupils. She worries for Hunter, but she has been told to stay put.

Wrecker finishes restraining the still-living mercenaries and rolls his shoulders, easing out the stiffness of the injuries he sustained. His own blaster is loose in his hands, still set to stun.

The bodies have been hidden to one side, smeared trails of red marking the route they had been pulled. So much for out of sight, out of mind. Omega curls up over her injured hands, rubbing at her wrists through the bandages. The rope burns itch under the healing bacta gel.

“Tech will be fine,” reports Echo, “but one of us should stay with him. Omega?”

“I’m going after Hunter,” she announces, before she can be asked to play medic. She turns and looks at Echo with her mouth set in an unhappy line.

Echo calmly meets her gaze. “Hunter won’t want you to see him like this,” he says softly.

“Hunter needs me.” She is the embodiment of stubbornness. “I know it.”

Wrecker’s big hand touches her shoulder gently.

“I’ll keep her safe, Echo,” he says, voice strained with an ache of worry. He pushes his helmet back down onto his head, the snarling skull hiding the concern in his eyes.

“Let’s go, kid.”

Hunter is exhausted, muscles trembling as he forces them to continue. He has to do this. The image of Omega’s injuries is burned behind his retinas, the scent of her fear cloying. He failed to protect her once. He won’t do so again.

One more mercenary, and the job was done. There would be no-one left to threaten her. And if this group didn’t return, perhaps whoever was hunting them would think twice before sending more agents to kidnap her.

Protect Omega. Blood pounds in his head. Every footstep is a hammer-fall on the anvil of his overwrought senses.

Protect Omega.

A blaster shot hits his right hand. The vibroknife is flung free of his grasp, spinning into the air and embedding in the wall above his head. Hunter startles, the pain in his hand almost enough to stop him from evading the follow-up shot aimed for his heart. He twists at the last moment, the blaster bolt grazing his chest-plate.

Then his feral instincts are back, taking over, shutting down the thoughts that are distracting him and driving him forwards into the fight.

Hunter lunges, closing the distance to his would-be ambusher in a burst of speed that belies his injured state. He doesn’t remember that he has a pistol. Instead he barrels into the man, tackling him to the floor. The two of them roll, fighting for dominance, and Hunter comes out on top. Slugs the man. Pain explodes in his knuckles but he doesn’t stop. Again. And again.

Under the onslaught the mercenary’s face is transforming to a swollen, bloody pulp. He writhes and bucks under Hunter, throwing the sergeant off and scrambling for escape. Hunter leaps after him and they are back to brawling, only it isn’t a brawl. The man is sobbing, arms over his head, trying to shield himself from Hunter’s incoming blows. Pleas dribble with bubbled blood from broken lips. The man weeps for mercy.

Hunter’s onslaught continues. One more mercenary, and the job is done.

Protect Omega. Protect her at all costs.

Omega and Wrecker round the corner and Wrecker pulls them up short. Hunter is locked in combat with the final mercenary, the sickening sound of fist hitting flesh and the crepitus of broken bone reaching them across the otherwise empty room.

Omega recoils, watching the scene with fascinated horror. The brutality makes her sick to her stomach, but she can’t look away.

Hunter’s hair is loose, missing the bandana that usually tames it, and hangs lank and sweaty about his face. Blood streaks his fists and spatters his armour. The air is punctuated by his soft grunts and laboured breath, and the moans and whimpers emanating from the figure that is huddled beneath his fury.

Wrecker lays his hand on Omega’s shoulder, trying to coax her away. “Omega,” he says, and his voice quavers. He crouches in front of her, interposing himself between her and the brutal scene, and pushes his helmet back on his head to lock gazes with her.

“What is he doing?” Omega whispers in horror, brown eyes wide as she searches Wrecker’s face for answers.

Wrecker merely shakes his head. “You should get outta here, kid. Head back to the Marauder, wait for the others.”

He stands and turns away from her, dropping the blaster and moving towards Hunter with his hands held up defensively. It is like he is approaching a wild animal, wary of attack.

“Hunter, stop it. Please, vod. He’s down, he surrendered. This isn’t right.”

If Hunter hears him he gives no sign. His punches keep flying, sluggish but solid. His victim lets out a single broken sob.

Omega’s com chirps.

“Omega, are you alright?” It is Tech, his voice weak-sounding as he recovers from concussion.

“We found Hunter,” she whispers, riveted on Wrecker’s careful advance.

Wrecker nears Hunter and his victim, one hand extended. “It’s me, Hunt,” he says, softening the brash edge of his voice. “Time to stop. Okay, vod?”

Hunter doesn’t hear him. Or ignores him. It is hard to tell.

“Is Wrecker able to handle the situation?” asks Tech.

Omega shakes her head. “No,” she says, voice trembling with determination. “But if Wrecker can’t make Hunter stop, I will.”

“Be careful, Omega,” Tech warns her, and she steels herself for what is to come.

She steps past Wrecker, ducks to evade his grasp as he tries to stop her. On shaky legs she closes the distance. Hunter, her Hunter, is a creature she does not recognise. Ruthless, bloodstained, no glimpse of gentleness or mercy.

Hunter leans back, winding up for a huge hit. Omega darts in front of him, catching hold of his fist, levelling her intense brown-eyed stare into the wildfire of his fury.

Omega positions herself directly in front of the exhausted sergeant. Hunter is on his knees, tattooed face glazed in sweat and blood that almost certainly does not belong to him. His shoulders heave as he gulps in great lungfuls of air.

“Don’t,” she says. A plea. A command. “Please don’t.”

For a moment Hunter’s eyes turn glassy and unfocused, pupils trembling with rapid dilations before he eventually blinks and manages to fix his gaze on the girl before him.

“Omega?” he croaks weakly, and staggers to his feet. He sways a little, then replants his feet and braces a hand against her shoulder to steady himself. “You’re meant to be with Tech.”

Unexpectedly, he retches. Omega takes a startled step back as Hunter heaves bile, his whole body trembling. When he is done he wipes his mouth slickly on the back of his hand, glancing round in confusion.

Wrecker steps forwards, caution still written in his posture. “Hey, Hunter,” he says softly, a greeting to his brother as he returns to his senses.

Hunter sags against Omega, his arms going round her in relief, and she can feel the uncontrolled quaking of his body as adrenaline fatigue truly sets in.

Quickly Wrecker steps in to support him, taking some of his weight from Omega. But Omega wraps her arms tightly round Hunter’s waist, pressing her face against his chest, ignoring the scent of blood and blaster-fire as she feels his trembling hand run through her hair.

“I forgive you, Hunter,” she whispers, fingers digging into the cracks of his armour as they both cling to each other with equal ferocity. “I forgive you.”

67 notes · View notes

yeehawnatalie · 2 years

Text

Let’s talk about what went wrong with Taylor Swift Presale today. By now, you should all (hopefully) be aware that today, November 15th, was the start of a war declaration for all swifties. I myself was fortunate to get tickets, but thousands upon thousands of other die hard taylor fans were not. There are quite a few things that went wrong, and I hope to make this post cover as many as I am knowledgeable about so that in the case of future panic, concert ticket buyers can navigate the absolute hellscape that is ticketmaster. Fair warning: this post is long and winded, read at your own risk…. Screenshots will be included

Ticketmaster placed all sales on the same day with only a 1 hour buffer

In all their genius and ingenuity, TM decided to place all 52 presales (not including cap 1) on the same day. with a one. hour. buffer. If you’ve been on Twitter, you’ve seen the panic and anger from all pre-sale goers (myself included) East coast encountered many crashes and 504 bad gateway errors, not even including the “code not working” errors that eventually caused all queues to be placed on hold for over 3 hours… People couldn’t even get into waiting rooms due to site overload. Around 1 hour after this, TM told us to join using the code from our texts, but recommended using a laptop or desktop device… make it make sense? It was not any better in Central nation however. Upon joining the queue, I found myself to be behind nearly 5k people while my mom (who had gotten a code too and was trying incase my night was sold out) was behind nearly 22k people. Within 5 minutes of the queue opening, it was paused. There was no communication at all from TM for about an hour to an hour and a half. Twitter was flooded with people panicking that their codes weren’t working and the lines weren’t moving. I sat there for 4 hours until TM posted the following image.

Absolutely ridiculous. There was little to no communication about known issues or why TM couldn’t get their sh*t together in the span of 4 hours. Keep in mind I waited almost 6 hours to get tickets and others waited even longer. Stadiums were completely sold out in some cases with no update in the queue lines.

Boosts were not recognized/supported

Towards the bottom of this section I have attached a screenshot of a twitter thread discussing this. I personally feel this rumor may have some truth to it. I had no boosts, have never bought merch, and was relatively high in the line. However, I have yet to see a loverfest ticket holder who had a high place in line. The theory is that TM placed the boost holders at the end of the queue. Why? The ongoing theory is that it is for profit - TM is notorious for scalping and ripping off buyers, and it does not surprise me in the slightest that they would do this thinking that all the more dedicated swifties would be willing to spend more $$$ than the “locals.” There is a ton of outrage rn due to this. What was the point of the boosts if they didn’t work? Many boosted fans did not get any tickets as pre-sale sold out quickly.

UPDATE 11/16

Apparently this rumor has been confirmed from TM. See the attached picture. Seems that TM is having trouble keeping all their information consistent. Makes me wonder what exactly the boosts and loverfest did bc they defiantly did not help people get presale codes or ahead in the queue….

Dynamic Pricing + VIP packages

This is a concert lovers greatest enemy. We’ve all heard about how Ed Sheeran opted out of this, and we thought Taylor did as well…. until we walked into the gates of hell. It is still unclear if dynamic pricing is confirmed, but the prices across stadiums and pre-sale times is insane. I paid 299+fees for an 8th row lower bowl while one of my friends paid 400 for a 10th row and another only 250 for a floor ticket. There is absolutely no reason this should exist. Not only does this not detour scalpers, it simply makes the concert less accessible to people who ACTUALLY want to go. Not to mention the insane number of VIP packages available. IMO VIP should be something you add on after, not sold as an individual seat. The prices for floor VIP were 800+ for houston, and when I went to check about 2 hours after getting my tickets, they were one of the last things to be sold. These VIP packages had no communication before presale, and limited the number of good seating for people who simply wanted to watch the concert.

Weird error messages

This was a MAJOR problem during the presale that I haven’t seen many people talking about. I’ve attached a picture of my own error below. After finally getting through to purchase tickets, I found two amazing floor seats within my price range and immediately took them only to be met with the error below. I was literally freaking out while my mom kept on trying different tickets to no avail. I finally found someone on Twitter with the same issue who said they cleared cache and cookies and it worked. Luckily, I was able to do this, reenter my code, and get tickets (although not the amazing floor ones I had in my hand previously) TM has still not replied to my questions about the error messages, and it seems that more people are coming out with the same issue I encountered. I know TM was trying to prevent bots, but someone like me who has a verified email, phone, and clearly residential email handle should not have been flagged and given this code (still don’t know why tf I got it?) Some people are speculating these errors were to limit ticket buyers to cover up TM errors in calculating how many presale tickets were available.

Lack of support and ability to contact support

As I briefly mentioned earlier, I was not helped at all by TM support. There is no easily accessible number to call TM support, and even if there were, there is no guarantee they would pick up in time. Frankly, I was absolutely infuriated with how TM handled this. The lack of texts being sent, emails being sent late into the night with no waitlists in sight, no communication on how presale was going to work. Everyone was told completely different things and no one had any idea what was going on. Add this onto cap 1 presale being pushed back to tomorrow, this is going to make a lot of people really mad. I’ve heard of peoples cards not going through, codes declining, constant ticket disappearing, getting kicked to the back of queue, TM just dropping them - it’s a nightmare. Seriously, just look up some trending Taylor Swift tags on tiktok or twitter rn… And frankly, twitters TM support is just not helpful - the below twitter user received two completely different answers when asking about how codes can be used for different nights.

I sent TM support a message nearly 48 hours ago and still have no received a response - curious as to why, but I’m not entirely surprised. Haven’t heard too much about the situation over on seatgeek.

No Reputation Style Boosts

This is another speculation, but many swifties have said TM wouldn’t allow another reputation boost style system due to the low level of scalper activity during this sale. These boosts worked insanely well to get actual fans on the sale (unlike the verified fans) and it is inferenced that bc TM makes a lot of their money from resales and scalpers, they were against using this method for a popular artist like Taylor. This style of boost could have greatly benefited people who weren’t going to resell tickets, but because of cooperate greed TM has not allowed anyone to use it again.

Insane scalper prices

Literally what is says. 50k for a SINGLE floor ticket is just not it. don’t buy the resell tickets, wait it out for people to sell them at a slightly above face value. They knew people want this tour, and they’re taking advantage of that. How did so many tickets disappear and magically show up on stub hub during the queue pause? (hmmm I wonder it’s almost like that’s TM whole business model) This image is from chicago alone…. and look how many tickets are already here.

“Unprecedented” demand

*sigh* TM you were literally the ones who sent out the presale codes…. you cannot call this “unprecedented” when you literally knew the exact number of people who would be trying to get tickets. These overpriced service fees do what exactly? pay developers to pause queues and not send updates ever? People skipped work and school to buy these tickets and because of your oversight, they lost time and money and may have to miss more tomorrow to participate in Cap 1 presale. There is no other option for this volume of tickets being sold. Taylor has no option but to use this trashy, overpriced site to sell tickets to her loyal fans.

Overall, I am incredibly grateful to have even gotten a presale code. This is of no fault to Taylor or Taylor Nation - the blame lyes only on Ticketmaster. These past 48 hours have been brutal, and I know everyone is frustrated and mad at the shit show that happened today. I’m just asking any and all swifties to put your anger on TM not Taylor. She’s going to have a rough time responding to this, and I think we should make it as easy as possible for her. But most importantly, we need to hold TM accountable, there’s a reason monopoly is americas most hated game. Hopefully someone can crack down on this, but at the end of the day the only thing we can do is continue to support Taylor. Please let me know if there’s anything you think I should add to this post or want added. Thank you and I hope everyone recovers from today. <3

240 notes · View notes