#caesar whump

[lelelego]

hello it's the vulpes anon again . thank you for your condolences i appreciate it. however i think im going insane. the vulpes brainrot has been creeping on me and i fear i am powerless to stop it. which is very unfortunate because i still hate him and i think he's the worst and i kill him in every playthrough an d i absolutely agree that he's a cringefail little guy but that drawing. oooghhhgjh. it changed my brain chemistry. this is all your fault and i hate you (im fully kidding i love you and your art) the ao3 suggestion is a good idea but that would only fuel the rot so i think my best bet would be to block him everywhere and pray 2 every god ever that i don't fall into vulpes inculta fallout new vegas hell because that would be cringe of me

that's a good idea feel better soon anon 🙏 he is the worst here he is being mean to eli hope it can help your rehabilitation from vulpes brainrot

#asks #anonymous #teehee <3 #not entirely fictional either when i was doing the fort raid vulpes wasnt there?? where did he go?? #so now in courier eli canon he's out there looking for the guy who murdered caesar :^) good luck idiot #also i am not immune to eli getting menaced. whump brainrot real #oc: eli #vulpes inculta #doodly thingy #fallout tag #the vulpes tag is there in case people dont like seeing him. sincerely sorry for putting a reply to an ask in the main tag !!!!

[silvercap]

Thinking about the phrase 'slipped a blade between his ribs.' Innocuous little phrase for a knife to the lung... usually gets associated with assassins and stuff, but it just conjures up an image of closeness. Intimacy? Whatever it is, I've been thinking about it all day 👀

#thats a thing right i didnt make this up #i swear ive seen it in some sort of fantasy novel. #anyway! #whump #knives #my good friend Iulius has inspired me on this fine fifteenth of march... ave Caesar and all that 🫡

[krokatron]

INFECT THE HARUSPEX

31 Days of Whump for Whumptober 2022!

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CONTENT WARNING: ENSURE YOU READ THE TAGS AND DISCLAIMER FOR THIS FIC. DUE TO THE CHARACTERS AND FACTIONS FEATURED, THIS MAY FALL INTO 'DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT'. THE ACTIONS AND HAPPENSTANCES IN THIS FIC ARE NOT ENDORSED AS MORALLY CORRECT OR JUSTIFIED; THAT'S THE POINT.

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The origin of Courier Six stretches longer than only the depth of a shallow grave. She is born over the border, defined by fire, then haunted by the tools of her own survival. Rescued from the brink of death by a man who might call himself a better researcher than doctor, the Courier claims that we are all defined by the choices that we make— she negates to acknowledge that she has very little choice at all. Pressed beneath the Legion's thumb and struggling to find footing even as a double agent, Quinn relies on silken lies to see her through the likes of the Malpais Legate, the destruction of the Divide, the First Battle of Hoover Dam and her endless proximity to one Vulpes Inculta. Not all of those touched by fire forget what it is to burn.

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Fic Link • Cover without Text

#OC: Quinn #Courier Six #fallout: new vegas #FNV #Vulpes Inculta #Joshua Graham #Whumptober2022 #Whump #Caesar's Legion #Legion Posting #But yk I'll plug it for Vibes #fallout #fnv #fallout fics #krok.png #krok.txt

[one-piece-aus]

Whumptober Day 10

Caesar x Reader

Warning: Cold Ending

"What are you doing out in the cold?" The scientist stepped to the side and opened the door wider. "Come inside before you catch a cold."

"Thank you, thank you," you said as you hurried into the building, rubbing your hands together as you watched him close the door when you were inside.

"Of course, I couldn't just leave a poor woman out there in the freezing cold." He gave you a warm smile and offered you a hand. "My name is Caesar Clown."

"[L/n] [Y/n]," you reply shaking his warm hand.

"Come, [Y/n]," Caesar said as he began to escort you through the halls loosely by the hand if you wished for your hand to be by your side. "Let's get you something warm to drink."

Your heart fluttered at how gentle he acted toward you. He seemed so sweet, his fluffy coat and hair only enhanced his soft nature. You felt safe with Caesar, safer than when you were on the pirate ship not long ago. Fate is being pleasant after you barely escape from those beasts.

"Thank you, Caesar," you smiled at the man. "If there's anything I could do to return the favour, I'll gladly help!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Master Caesar, I have your coffee ready," you inform him entering the lounge room.

"Wonderful, [Y/n], just set it on the table," Caesar instructed as he continued going through his notes.

So he may have told you to address him as 'Master Caesar' but you weren't complaining. After all, he's polite and gentle with you, far better than the pirates who previously harassed you. If anything, you were proud to call him master. Setting the coffee down in front of him, you turn to him with a smile.

"Is there anything else you'd like me to do before I attend to the children?" Your shift had been just around the corner, and you enjoyed taking care of the children. You were a bit surprised when Caesar informed you about the daycare but you only fell for him more when he told you he was taking care of them so you volunteered to help them out.

"Not really, just don't forget about the candy on your way there."

"Yes, master Caesar," you nod before exiting the room, almost bumping into Monet.

The green-haired woman ignored you, flapping right past. A frown appeared on your face. You couldn't help the envy crawling under your skin whenever you saw her around Caesar. Yes, Caesar had told you she was his secretary yet you couldn't help but feel something else was going on. Stepping to the side of the doorway and against the wall to be out of sight, you eavesdropped on their conversation.

"How's today's batch, doctor?" Monet asked, you could hear her taking a seat on the bar stool.

"Better than yesterday," Caesar answered with a delighted tone you've never heard before.

Could your suspicion be correct? Did Caesar like the bird girl? Perhaps the master only took pity on you and was just being nice to you. That would-

"These kids sure have been a great help with improving the giant-ification serum, shurororo."

Giant-if-what? Was your master experimenting on the children? No that can't be-

"The current ones aren't going to last much longer, should we get new ones soon?" 

"Yes, send the team to bring another group then dispose of the older ones before they drop in front of the others, we don't need those brats to start crying."

"Very well."

You stood iced to the ground, shock painted over your face. This... this is worse than you imagined. This couldn't possibly be true, Caesar would never say such a thing let alone do, right? No, this-

"Ack!" you yelped when electricity stunned your nerves before you fell to the ground.

A worker in a yellow suit clipped the taser he used back on his belt before dragging you by the leg into the room. "Master, I found this one snooping around."

"Ah, leave it on the burning side of the island, it'll die eventually."

#whumptober2022 #no. 10 #no 10 #poor unfortunate souls #taser #one piece #whump writing #whump fanfiction #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #caesar clown x reader #caesar clown #one piece caesar clown #one piece caesar #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece monet

[chromatic-lamina]

chapter 1081 spoilers—okay, angst is fun and all but...

Shachi literally means orca in Japanese. Ikkaku means narwhal. They can dive deep (Narwhals, deeper than most submarines go, I think) and survive. Penguins are pretty good underwater for a while (though I don't know about depth). The ocean is the home of sea urchins and sea angels (Uni and Clione). And have we forgotten how hardcore Penguin and Shachi went here?:

And do you think that Jean Bart looks a little fishman here? ( A little Namur-like).

Now, I don't know about snow geese, but we'll give Hakugan some magical properties. So while it is heartbreaking that the Polar Tang

will no longer sail the seas (and, yeah, the boys had had it forever, but this is the sub's own Going Merry moment, perhaps), I think we should believe Bepo here:

where he urges Law to have faith in the hardiness of his North Blue crew in the depths of the ocean. His concern is more with Law (but we know he'll be okay):

Bepo urges Law not to die, but the Hearts will continue to overcome. I don't know that they'll be captured either, but they must've almost escaped because Jean Bart was on land, right? In chapter 1064:

But look at this instruction (also from 1064):

where Law urges Penguin and Shachi into the water. The Hearts are fine, but I understand the angst (it's glorious, isn't it?!). I think Law's worried, obviously, but I also think he picked his crew and mode of transport for a reason beyond just remaining hidden.

But, the Polar Tang:

the Victoria Punk

the Jewelry Margerhita?

Although, the Wiki says they don't know what happened to it after Bonney was captured by Blackbeard way back when, but in Egghead Jinbei does ask her:

where her ship and crew is. She states that her ship (which might be the Jewelry Margherita) was eaten by the monsters (controlled by Lilith, right?) outside of Egghead, and that she came alone.

The wiki says: (according to Vivre Card - One Piece Visual Dictionary (Card #0511), Information about Bonney is revealed), that:

Bonney seems to prioritize her own safety over her crew's as she managed to escape Marine detainment but chose not to rescue her subordinates.

That's stark contrast to Law, and we've mostly seen her operate alone, but I'm not gonna believe the Vivre cards just yet.

Also, Kid's obviously alive if Law is and if their losses were similar in wording and visuals. I think Kid's crew have saved him, if not Shanks' crew.

BUT, once Law recovers, he'll not be sequestered in a cell for ten years before he becomes relevant again (poor Kid. Damn!).

As @purplehairedwonder pointed out, the Polar Tang was carrying Law's poneglyph copies, and I bet that the crew is carrying them. Hope so. He'd be wise enough to have them waterproofed. BUT it makes more narrative sense to have them destroyed.

Now, someone was talking about how a Klabautermann is only seen when a ship is doomed (this wikipedia article supports it, but that's as far as my sources go) and therefore they didn't include images/stories/prompts about it for the Polar Tang. I can't remember who it was! Ahh, well it seems that the Klabautermann of various ships have been very busy lately.

Kuzan, too. Kuzan is cool (haha). I'm glad we saw him. And the dialogue with the Blackbeard pirates and Kuzan. OH, I almost forgot, this angst:

where Blackbeard taunts Law with the fact (yes, fact!) that there are a hundred pirates on Pirate Island still without their hearts, due to Law, and BB would be thrilled to punish Law for the fact, can't help but stir the whump-writer's heart (I'm sorry, Law).

AND, Koby and Law were in cahoots in some way, I'm sure of it (probably be disproven). Something similar to Luffy and Smoker at Alabasta, perhaps? Anyway.

Side note, do you think that Chopper used Caesar Clown's science and ego to help produce the rumble-ball like power-up he gave Bepo? If so, I wonder if this will come to play in the future when Caesar and Judge enter the fray again, if they do.

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #bepo one piece #chapter 1081 #one piece meta #opmeta #op meta #blackbeard #marshall d. teach #heart pirates #polar tang #one piece spoilers #opspoilers #op spoilers #chromameta #chromanga #chromacaps #chromalami #jewelry bonney #eustass kid #victoria punk #jewelry margherita #long post

[ohtobeleah]

Chaos // Bradley Bradshaw

Chapter Six: Addicts

Summary: All hell breaks loose when the uranium mission doesn’t go according to plan. Rooster follows you down into enemy territory. It’s a race against time to find a way home safely.

Warning: Bradley Bradshaw x reader. Ex girlfriend ex boyfriend. Angst! Whump!

Word Count: 14.1k

Author Note: Oh my god. I don’t even know what to say. If you’re still here—thank you so much. We’re officially finished the main six chapters of Chaos. It’s been fun!

“So how's that addiction going?” Bob's voice drew you from deep thought as you looked out over the water, flight helmet in hand, hung by your side. Both geared up ready to go for what could very well be your last mission. “He looks strung out–” Gesturing to where Rooster stood talking to Maverick, it wasn't hard to miss the noticeable layer of sweat that had come over him. Looking over your shoulder you could only imagine what Pete must have been saying to Rooster, talking him down from whatever purch he’d plopped himself on.

“Yeah, well, I think I'd be the last person on earth he’d wanna be flying with right now–” singing softly as you turned to face Bob fully. “And as for the addiction, I'm a full blown addict.”

“You’re addicted—“ Robert Floyd was a different breed. He saw the world differently to most, almost like a textbook. With facts and evidence to back up his hypothesis and firm beliefs. He wasn’t a believer in the paranormal and he most certainly wasn’t a fan of politics. “Like full blown addicted—“ He was a man of science, numbers, statistics.

“He’s my ex Bob, not heroin!” The Lemoore sun was almost too much to bear as you and Bob hiked up the steep incline of Grants Creek. Bob’s idea for a team bonding exercise or his version of some sort of sick joke. “And besides, don’t you think it’s important to say no to drugs?” Jerk it out by the Caesars blasting through the speaker that hooked through Bob’s backpack, the carabiner doing God’s work.

“Well, it’s just not that simple.” Somewhere along the way—Bob had removed his T-shirt. It wasn’t that it was out of character for him to do so, it was simply that he trusted you not to comment. A little on the insecure side. But his faith in you to just accept him outweighed his own insecurities. Over the past six months, you had been his closest friend, his front seater, his best friend, his…. Well, Bob would never admit it but, crush? Maybe? He wasn't sure, all he knew for sure was that he thought you deserved the world. This ex you kept talking about? Kept confiding to him about? Just didn't seem to cut it in Bob’s eyes.

“Isn’t it the most simple thing in the world?” You questioned as you dramatically gasped for air, taking in the humidity of the atmosphere around you. Bob couldn't help but to chuckle as he handed you his water bottle. “Thanks—“ Taking it, you paused in your tracks for a breather. “Everyone knows drugs are bad, right? So why even start? I mean they cause crime and death—“

“And they also prop up the US economy.” Passing Bob back his water you frowned in concern.

“What are you talking about?” Bob loved a challenge, he always had. He loved talking to you about anything and everyone. He loved it because you wouldn't shrug him off, you would listen to what he had to say with interest and intent.

“Are you familiar with gross domestic product?” It wasn’t that Bob thought you were stupid, he just wanted to explain his standpoint. Watching as you nodded in response as the sun beamed down and the layer of sweat that had formed across the expanse of your body made it look like you were glowing. A sweaty, disgusting beautiful mess. “Well it’d be great if people didn’t get addicted to drugs, but—people are addicted to drugs.” Turning to face you as you both kept walking, making sure you were still following where he was going. “In order to get the drugs they have to buy them right? And that drug dealer needs to feed his family, they need a house and clothes and the family needs a car right? And there was even this theory that said drug money was the only thing that prevented the collapse of the global economy in two though and eight.”

“Why’s that?” Panting, following Bob up the steam incline, he reached out to lend you a hand, pulling you up the hill as he continued to walk beside you, just in front of you. His hands helping to guide you up as you played damsel. Bob knew you were fine, you just didn't want to be hiking right now, on your one day off the rest and recover.

“Because drug money was the only available cash to prop up big banks—without drugs, without addiction, shit would probably go tits up.”

“So what you’re trying to say is, I’m a closeted drug addict and my drug of choice is my toxic ex?” Bob knew he’d gone a little in depth with the facts, but he wouldn’t deny he was a numbers person. Facts and statistics was his way of life. “How’d you manage to make such a black and white argument grey?”

“I just don’t think it’s inherently something that’s good or bad—just, promise you won’t let whoever this guy is, when you ultimately go back to him—“

“I won’t.” You tried to defend yourself, Bob didn’t let you finish as he jogged ahead of you, turning to face you with a stirn finger pointed your way. The sun in his eyes— he’d forgotten his favourite hat.

“Ah but see! All addicts say the same damn thing, you know he’s bad for you, you recognise the damage he does, but the euphoria that you get with him just outweighs the consequences.” Bob had you trapped in your own defence. “Next thing you know you’re on the street—“

“Could be worse right?” Bob looked at you with concern, evident in his eyes. “Well I mean I could end up dead right? But you can’t overdose on a person can you?” Shrugging your shoulders, following Bob up the incline. Feet crunching the gravel dirt with every step you took. Bob had never seen a clearer addict before in his life—how did he know? Because he was one himself. Only his drug came in the form of adrenaline.

“Just, when it inevitably does happen—don’t forget you aren’t some B-grade constellation prize.” It made you blush, you felt the heat rising in your cheeks as you hid your smile for a brief moment. There was just something about Bob that made you feel at home. “C’mon—we’re running sprint to the top.”

“What!?” You groaned, letting your shoulders slump dramatically as you threw your head back. Bob was the kinda guy who liked to do that In manorial 9/11 stair master workout just for fun. You should have picked up he was psychotic from the get go. “This isn’t funny anymore—“

“Hey, I thought you were great at running away from your problems? It must be exhausting rooting for the anti-hero though, I get it.” Challenging you, Bob took off. His bag clinging to his bare back as you sighed, chasing after him with a huff.

“I've always found that admitting a problem is always the first step to recovery.”

“But I don't think I wanna recover, that's the problem Bob.” You knew you didnt wanna recover, all you’d ever wanted was Bradley bradshaw. But somewhere deep inside you there was a terrible feeling that you'd cut whatever thin thread there was keeping you together. Lying never solved any problem you’d ever had. Perhaps Jake had been right, you should have just told Rooster the truth instead of lying, trying to protect him. But look where that got you?cNowhere and alone. Shaking off the despair, you rubbed your face, pushing the stray hairs away from your face as the wind raced around you and Bob. “Hows’ Hangman?”

“He’s easy to make insecure—I'm sure he’ll get over it.”

“It has been an honour flying with you all. Each one of you represents the very best of the best, this is a very specific mission–my choice is a reflection of that and nothing more.” Maverick stood before the class with his shoulders squared.

“Choose your two foxtrot teams.” Admiral Beau stated firmly as he stood off to the side with his arms behind his back. Watching as Maverick nodded in the opposite direction to where you stood near the back of the room. Hiding amongst the class.

“Payback and Fanboy–” Okay good, you could deal with that. “Phoenix and Bob–” You felt the wind get knocked out of you for a brief moment. Not Bob. Anyone but Bob. in the most sincere, heartfelt way– you couldn't stand the idea of him not coming back from this.

“Choose your wingman–” you had begged, pleaded Pete to choose someone, anyone, besides Rooster to be your wingman. You had even told him that flying with Hangman, although it may cost you your life, would be better than flying with Rooster.

There were a total of two men in your life you never wanted to fly with on a serious mission. Those men being Bradley Bradshaw and Robert Floyd. The only real reason you had to be so reluctant was because to see them burn out would mean the death of you too. You weren't strong enough to come back from seeing that, you knew that much for sure. There was a split second, a brief pause, a glimpse in Mavericks eyes that had you for the briefest of seconds thinking he had listened. But fuck where you wrong.

“Rooster–” Fuck.

“And team lead?” There had never been a worst position to be in. You knew some of the class knew, others maybe not. Standing to the back of the room would mean the quickest escape to grab your gear, get the fuck out and get this voer with.

“Chaos.”

“Chaos!” Jake shouted as he came jogging over. Bob took it as his sign to leave. Deciding a hug was more fitting than a handshake. Embracing you with open and inviting arms, Bob consumed you entirely.

“I'll see you on the other side yeah?” pulling away, he kept his hands firmly on your shoulders. “And dont do anything stupid, we get in, we get out.”

“Absolutely I wouldn't even dream of it.” Tapping your shoulder Bob let you go, turning on his heels to make his way over to his F-18, Phoenix waiting for him as Hangman approached you. “Hangman–”

“You give 'em hell–” Jake stuck his hand out for you to shake, graciously you took it. Looking him square in the eyes as you did so. “There is no better pilot for the job than you.”

“Do me a favour? When this is all over? You and me, we’re gonna settle our differences, you and me– the Hard Deck ,six o’clock.” Jake chuckled as he let his hand drop. Standing before you as you smiled his way. He knew you were deflecting from your own self doubt. But for now he’d let you–because it seemed to be working rough to hold you together.

“Deal–I'll book it in with Penny.”

There wasn't much time left, by the time you had finished taking your tags off– Hondo was coming at you telling you it was time. You couldn't put it off any longer even if you wanted to. Doing one final lap of your F-18, Rooster was walking your way.

“Lieutenant Kazansky!” Rooster shouted over the roaring sounds of F-18 engines. “Ma’am!” of fuck the actual fuck off, was he really resorting to ma’am? “Lieutenant–”

“Rooster, it's Chaos or Y/n, stop with the ma’am bullshit before I decide to knock it out of you.”

“I just wanted to say–” Obnoxiously loud radio chatter cut Rooster off before he could finish. Which was probably a good thing, he was probably about to say something stupid—something he’d regret or most likely wish he never said. Fear riddling his central nervous system to the point he wasn’t thinking straight, that much was clear.

“We’ll talk, when we get back–” You stepped a little closer, fingers reaching for Roosters. Softly playing with his fingertips as you kept your gaze on the ground. Not daring to look up. “We’ll talk about everything–” Nodding in response, Rooster swallowed the lump in his throat he couldn’t seem to get rid of. Stepping back and away. Sweating balls. A nervous mess.

“Hey– Brad! Bradley! Hey!” Shouting you caught his attention. Watching as he turned to face you from across the deck. “You got this– don't think, just do.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Terrifying. That’s what it felt like to be in your F-18, ready for take off. “Dagger one, up and ready on catapult one.”

“Dagger spare, standing by.” Hangman was the first to confirm his position after you.

“Dagger four up and ready–” Then Payback.

“Dagger three, up and ready” Then Phoenix.

“Dagger two, up and ready. “ And last my certainly not least– Bradley Bradshaw. Something you would never get used to was the force of being propelled from a carrier. The way the cord snapped back and let you go at a million miles an hour–take off from a short runway, moreso a taxiway was one of your greatest fears. That and being used as a personal plaything by Bradley. There was something so dehumanising in the way you would so easily allow him to come back and forth into your life, but when things were good? They were great. But when things were bad? It made the depths of hell seem like a summer vacation. A holiday destination you'd rather visit instead of having to deal with the heartbreak he left every time he’d walk away.

But Bradley bradshaw was a changed man, right?

“Comanche, dagger one standby check in.” Flying steady as you looked at your radio. Trying to push any and all thoughts of Rooster to the side. An achievement you were unlikely to achieve.

“Comanche, one one set, picture clean recommend dagger continue.”

“Copy Daggers descending below radar.” It wasn't very professional of you to be clouded with thoughts of Rooster as you flew closer and closer into enemy territory. If anything, having a clouded mind could easily get you killed. Letting emotion get the better of you was the last thing you wanted to be a victim of while flying a mission like this.

“Daggers now below radar, switching to E-2 picture.” Lilian, Camanche, addressed the carrier as she switched signals. It was unsettling to know you weren't on radar anymore. To begin to think things could go wrong now would be sentencing you and your team to an unlikely death. But you couldn't help but wonder without a radar signal, who would come find you if things went south? Would you have to claw your way back–would Adrial beau care? Would he send a rescue? Would he send his spare in?

“Here we go, enemy territory up ahead in sixty seconds, Comanche dagger one picture.”

“Comanche picture clean, decision is yours.”

“Copy–dagger attack.” Not even a few short seconds went by before you heard and saw the tomahawks fly over the top of you. There was no turning back now. “Daggers, assume attack formation.” Phoenix and Bob settled in on your tail. Rooster behind them, Payback and Fanboy at the tail end of the group. Picture perfect.

With a deep inhale and a slow burn exhale, you closed your eyes for a brief moment and prayed to whatever god was listening. To whatever guardian angel—your or not, who would watch over everyone. Bring them home safe to their families. “Daggers set, proceeding to target, two minutes and 30 seconds in three, two, one, mark.”

“Two mark.” Rooster checked directly after you.

“Three mark.” Payback reported, his timer set and counting.

“Four mark.” Phenix stated, still right on your tail.

“Going in–” The terrain itself was stunning. Snow covered mountains that were decorated with pines. It seemed as if it had been plucked right from a scene in those tacky Christmas holiday love story movies. As you throttled forward, all four of the F-18’s engines began shrieking. Reminding you that this was anything but a Christmas movie. This was real and this was serious and this could be deadly if you didn’t put your entire being into this. “First SAM site overhead.”

“Looks like we're clear on radar Chaos.” Phoenix was quick to interject.

“Let's not take that for granted.” Smirking softly as you turned left and right—sharp corners at every turn.

“More SAM’s, three o’clock high!” Fanboy spotted, you were grateful for the backseats because honestly you hadn’t even seen the SAM’s he was talking about. Your head in the clouds.

”We got two minutes to target.” Bob’s voice rattled through your radio. An underlying nervousness in his tone. Scared–but not enough to not know what an honour it was to fly this mission, with this group of highly skilled, highly trained pilots.

“Copy–” Payback was the first to respond. “We’re a few seconds behind, Rooster, we gotta move.”

“Dagger one, Comanche, we’re picking up two bandits. Single group, two contacts.”

“Comanche, what's their heading?” Phoenix was quick to ask. 

“Bulls-eye 090, 50, tacked southwest.”

“They’re heading away from us, they don't know we’re here.” Rooster was sweating head to toe. Nervous as all hell. He didn't think he was ready for this, the way you had so confidently said you didn't believe he was ready either had stunted him. Although Jake had pulled him aside later that same night to say you were full of it–that you’d only said it so he’d stay behind, safe. It was still enough to curve him. Rattle him enough to have his nerves at an all time high.

“The second those Tomahawks hit the air base, those bandits are gonna move to defend the target–we have to get there before they do.Increase speed.” It really wasn't long after you had mentioned the tomahawks that they had hit the runways. Blowing them to smithereens as you got confirmation from the carrier it had been a successful hit.

“We got you Chaos, don't wait for me!” Phoenix’s voice came through strong on your radio.

“Bandits are switching course to defend the target.” The enemy well and truly knew you were coming as Lilian radioed in from her radio station.

“Rooster, where are you?” It wasn’t a question you wanted any response to other than right behind you. But that wasn’t what you were gonna get. His lack of motivation to go any faster then a snail had you generally concerened for his wellbeing, as a pilot of a fucking incredibly high staks mission and as a legitimate friend.

“C’mon Rooster, bandits inbound, we gotta make up time now– let's turn and burn.” Payback was the first to respond, trying to shake Rooster out of whatever state of mind he was in.

“Heads up Phoenix–” Flipping to your side with a sharp pull on your throttle—you sped through the arches of a bridge that hadn’t been simulated on the course you’d all been running the last few weeks. Phoenix still hot on your tail followed suit. Flawlessly.

“Guys, we’re falling behind, we really gotta move.” You heard everything going on behind you, not being able to turn back was killing you because it didn't just feel like you were leaving lieutenant Bradshaw behind. It felt like you were leaving your best friend behind, the love of your life. It probably felt that way because he was, you were leaving him behind–and after your last wingman? That wasn't something you could bring yourself to do. Never again. Fanboy was doing everything he could from his seat in the back of Paybacks F-18.

“If we don't increase our speed right now, those bandits are gonna be waiting for us when we reach the target.” Listening to Payback trying to coerce Rooster into getting his head in the game was starting to take its toll on you. Throwing caution to the wind with everyone around–including but not limited to the entire dager squad, the Admirals and an entire team of operations specialists listening in on over correspondence spoken.

“C’mon Rooster you can do it, don't think–just do.” Something in the way you said it really had Rooster listening, his chest warm as his heart grew. You really didn't understand just how much your words could affect him. The simplest of sentences could send him into overdrive or bring him to his knees. And this—sent him into hyperactive hyperdrive. “Don't think B’rad, just do.”

Channelling his dad's energy, Rooster shoved his throttle forward as he felt the G force around him change. Climbing rapidly as he raced against the clock to catch up.

“Jesus Rooster not that fast” Payback shouted as he suddenly felt like the one who was left behind. Watching in disbelief as Rooster hightailed it through the valley at high speed.

“That's it Bradshaw, that's it.” Smirking to yourself you knew Rooster would catch up. He’d make up for lost time now that he had his thumb out of his ass.

“Damn Rooster take it easy!” Fanboy teased—knowing Rooster was probably going a little faster then he honestly would have liked to have been. Purely to get back to you.

“Thirty seconds to target, Bob check your laser.!” It was becoming a race against the clock more so than ever before as you approached the target.

“Air to ground check complete, laser cose verified one six, eight eight. Laser is a go.” Bob confirmed, he could feel his heart beating out of his chest. He was so nervous.

“Phoenix, stand by for pop-up strike.” This was it, everything came down to this.

“Dagger three in position.” Phoenix confirmed flying hot on your tail.

“Popping in three, two, one.” inverting was always one of your favourite manoeuvres to pull, it made you feel invincible. Immortal for a split second. Coming back to a neutral position as you tried your best to steady your eyes on the target. The pressure on. “Get me eyes on that target, Bob–”

“Dagger three, stand by Chaos–” you could hear the panic lacing Bob's voice as he worked as fast as he could to get control over his weapons systems.

“C’mon Bob, C’mon!” You couldn't hold off for much longer, running out of time as you approached the target. It was now or never and never wasn't an option.

“Stand by!--” It felt like the longest few seconds of your entire life as you waited for the tone to sound. “I've got it, captured.” The sweet sweet sound of Bob's voice filled your cockpit as the radio blared with the confirmation you needed.

“Target acquired bombs away.” There was not another second to spare as your dropped your bombs. “Popping in three, two, one!” Pulling up the nose of your F-18, you fought against everything that told you to pass the fuck out. The force against your body nothing like you’d ever imagined as you felt the black ring around your eyes consuming you.

“We’ve got impact! Check! Direct hit direct hit!” Bob’s voice pulled you back from the brink as he confirmed you’d managed to actually hit the target. The taste of sweet sweet success had never tasted so sweet. But as sweet as success tasted there was a bitter aftertaste– where the hell was Rooster?

“Dagger two status!” It came out more pained than it should have, but fighting against the urge to pass out and the force of a thousand elephants crushing your chest will do that to you.

“Almost there Chaos almost there– Fanboy where my laser.” Rooster replied as he inverted over the lip of the mountain. Not far away at all. But after Roosters initial reply everything seemed to blur together as radio white noise.

“Rooster, there's something wrong with this laser! Shit deadeye deadeye deadeye!”

“C'mon guys we’re running out of him. Get it online”

“Come on Fanboy, get it online.”

“There's no time, im dropping blind–”

“Rooster i got this–”

“No time Pull up!”

Rooster–!”

“Bombs away, Bombs away!!”

“We’re not out of this yet.” Warning signals blared the moment you flew up above the SAM’s. Instantly on you the millisecond you were in their airspace.“Here it comes!” Your radar wasn't that far off. Signalling that you were in shit, deep. “Radar warning! Smoke in the air! Phoenix, break right!”

“Emergency jettison, Dagger three defending!” Phoenix's voice came through strongly on your radio as she followed your instructions.

“Here comes another one!” Bob reported as he tossed and turned in his seat–looking every which way he could to see where the next SAM was coming from. Your second pair of eyes in the sky.

“Dagger one defending!” You coudlnt have smacked your first against your emergency flare trap if you wanted to. Deploying your flares, looking around to see the SAM’s explode behind you. “Rooster status?” it wasn't a question, but an order. Rooster heard it in your voice as he came over coffin corner.

“Oh my god–” You heard him, that was enough confirmation you needed to know he was still in the game. Still alive. “Smoke in the air!! smoke in the air!!” But knowing SAM’s were hot on his tail the second he breached coffin corner was something that made your heart stop. This was a fucking mess. But if you got out of this alive? There was only one thing you wanted to do more than anything else in the entire world. Just make things right.

“Break right Payback!”

“Breaking right!”

“Oh my god, here they come!” Fanboy.

“SAM on your six Rooster!”

“Deploying countermeasures!” “Negative contact.”

“Dagger one defending–”

“Talk to me Bob.”

“Break right phoenix break right! Nine o’clock nine o’clock!”

“Rooster two more on your six!”

“Dagger two defending!” emergency flares.

“Payback, SAM on your nose!”

“Dagger four defending!”

“Rooster tally, seven o’clock–” 

It was all becoming too much to hear, too much to focus on, everything seemed to mash into one big mess inside your head.

“Talk to me Bob!”

“Dagger two defending”

“Phoenix break right!”

“I see it!” A mess of overlapping radio chatter until. Well, until it wasn't– until Rooster drew you out of the flurry you were in. deep in it.

“Dagger two defending–” Rooster groaned as he hit his flare cap. “Shit! I'm out of flares!” Your heart sunk, panic rose as you watched Rooster try and shake the SAM’s that kept coming his way.

“Rooster evade evade!” You shouted, tears welling in your eyes as you turned around. Splitting your throttles quicker than you could say I got you. This was Bradley Bradshaw you were protecting, you'd do anything for him– anything. Bob had said it months ago, you were an addict. You’d always go back for more no matter how bad he was for you. How bad you were for him.

“I can't shake em, they're on me! They’re on me!!” Shouting, Rooster panicked as you flew towards him. Not a thought behind your eyes besides protecting the one man who drove you fucking crazy with blind rage. The one man who knew all your secrets, all the flaws. The one man who loved you as fiercely and as passionately as he hated himself for loving you. Bradley Bradshaw wasn't just some pilot on some suicide mission you were leading. He was your best friend, the love of your life. To not save him would be to live a life alone, always regretting that you let him go.

“I can't do this again–” You whispered to yourself as you said a silent prayer to whatever god was watching over you. Whichever one that would listen you didn't really care. All you wanted was for Rooster to be alright. Be safe. Be able to go home. Even if to him his home was you. Wherever Rooster was? Home was wherever you were.

Without thinking, without hesitation, you pulled back on your throttle, sending your F-18 up, climbing in altitude as you swung up and above Rooster, hitting your flares to protect him. You felt the heat rising as you took out one of the SAM’s that were coming at Rooster, but it only grew as another blew out the back of your F-18.

“Fuck!!” Sending you spiralling into the valley below. Your skin burned under your flight suit, shrapnel embedded itself into your shoulder as you pulled your ejection cords. Punching out of the jet as it fell from the sky. Falling to the ground uncontrollably as you struggled with your shoot. “C’mon– c’mon!!” Ripping the cord just in enough time to slow you down before the tree line.

“Chaos!! No!!” Rooster shouted as pure panic consumed him. “Y/n!!” Watching the fireball that had been your F-18 crash into the valley below uncontrollably.

“Dagger one is hit! I repeat, Dagger one is hit! Chaos is down!” Phoenix reported back to the carrier. Bob couldn’t breathe, he’d told you not to do anything stupid. Why did you not listen? Addicts never listened.

“Dagger one status?” Rooster pleaded through the radio as he watched your F-18 go down in what would only be described as a fireball. Thick black clouds of smoke following. “Status?-- shit does anyone see her?” Rooster's voice became more panicked the longer he went without a definitive response. Flying around he couldn't see you. “Dagger one come in!”

“I didn't see a parachute–” Payback confirmed as he followed Rooster right on his tail.

“We have to circle back!” Rooster wasn't putting it to the group for questioning. He was going back, that wasn't an negotiable option. But that didn't stop them from trying.

“Comanche, bandits inbound, single group hot. Recommend dagger flow south– one minute to intercept.”

“All dagger flow to ecp–”

“What about chaos!?” Rooster hissed. Tears welling in his eyes– enough to the point where they steamed down his cheeks.

“Dagger spare requesting permission to launch and fly air cover!” Back on the carrier, Jake Seresin sat idly by at the hands of the Admirals who shook their heads despite his plea.

“Negative spare–” At the sound of the order he’d received Hangman threw his mask down with a frustrated grown. You weren't a quitter, if anything you were a fighter. But this? Was enough to break even the strongest of people. You had told him you wouldn't get to come back from this one, Jake just didn't know you meant like this.

“Dagger two you are not to engage, repeat you are not to engage.” It was a nightmare Rooster had never really thought about. Losing you on a mission, having you there one minute then being gone the next. Sacrificing yourself for him was also something Rooster was not about to let you do. “Dagger two return to carrier– acknowledge.” He’s been lucky this far in his career to not have flown a mission with you. And of course the first was the last.

“Rooster, those bandits are closing, we can't go back.” It killed him to say it but Bob knew he had to, in order to not lose anyone else today. He’d told you not to do anything stupid, so he wasnt going to do that either. Holding back his only emotions, because this wasnt over yet– Bob was the first to make the conclusion everyone was afraid to make. “Rooster, she's gone–Chaos is gone.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

The chill of snow captivated you entirely. It stung, like when you’d hold something cold for far too long. Everything hurt. From the blood that had seeped into your flight suit from the wound you had on your shoulder—to the pressure forcing itself down onto your lungs. Your ribs were on fire, your nose bloodied. Pushing yourself up onto your knees felt like a task only the fittest of people could do. But you pushed through, taking in your surroundings. Snow, trees, more snow and more trees.

With a heavy sigh, you sat back on your feet, legs bent as you focused on breathing– chuckling softly at the disbelief you were alive.

Your head spun at the sound of what you could only assume was an approaching helicopter. Almost definitely not one of yours. Scrambling as fast as you could against the clock to unclip your parachute. Watching in a flurry as it came around the corner—tracking you down.

“Fuck—“ You mermered to yourself as you worked a little faster. “Fuck fuck fuck—“ Struggling to breath, struggling to run, struggling to do just about anything as you ran for your god damn life through the snow– you decided that jumping over a nearby job that looked as if it could hide you would be your best option. You couldn't outrun a helicopter.

“Fuck!” Screaming at the top of your lungs, you curled yourself up into a ball as the enemy helicopter fired rounds your way. Missing every time but only by mere centimetres. So close you could feel the residual heat coming from them. “Oh my god–fuck!” Holding your shoulder you watched as the helicopter came around to face you, staring down the barrel of a gun, accepting your fate– you gave in. Shutting your eyes tight, you heard the sound of explosions, being met with sight of the helicopter blown to pieces when you opened them curiously. Watching as Roosters F-18 came racing by. Enemy SAM’s making contact with the tail of his F-18, forcing him down.

“Oh God No–” With pure panic bubbling to the surface as you stood, you watched as Rooster was struck, his F-18 spiralling down towards earth on fire. “Rooster! Fuck! No no no no no!” It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, you were bleeding from God only knows where with injuries unknown and countless–but you had to get to him. That wasn't negotiable.

Racing through the snow, trees lining the way, you ran as fast as your body would allow you to and then some. Pushing through everything you felt to get to Rooster. Seeing him casually folding up his parachute.

“You alright!?” You didn't let your legs slow down until you got to where Rooster was crouching over. Standing, he replied.

“Yeah, I'm good! What about you?” With a heavy shove to his chest you had Rooster on his back in the snow. Watching as he ripped his helmet from his face as you did the same. “What the hell!?” Rooster stood to his feet in a fluffy, his eyes beaming at you. Anger laced his tone as he got in your face.

“Fucking idiot! What are you doing here!?” You couldn’t hold in your anger. You thought he’d been stupid enough to sacrifice himself for you.

“What am I doing here?” Rooster repeated as you huffed, clearing injured and out of breath. Your good arm, working to cradle your clearly not okay arm. Holding your forearm close to your chest as you held the weight of your arm—taking pressure off your shoulder. Your collarbone throbbing. Ribs collapsing into your lungs.

“You think I took that missile so you could be down here with me!? You should be back on the carrier by now!?”

“I SAVED YOUR LIFE!” Leaning into it, Rooster gritted his teeth. Defending his actions as you puffed your chest. Still cradling your arm.

“No! I saved YOUR life! That’s the whole point! What the fuck where you even thinking!!”

“You told me not to think!” You had nothing to come back at him with. You had told him that, on many occasions. You just never expected he’d use your own logic against you. Stunned into silence– you watched as Rooster held his arms up and slammed them back down into his sides in a what the hell kinda way.

Out of breath and knowing that Rooster was alive, you let out a sigh of relief. Rooster stopped to look around for a brief moment– taking in the terrain.

“Well, it's good to see you.” You cooed, standing tall as blood dripped from your shoulder, seeping into your flight suit. Staining it a dark crimson colour.

“It's good to see you too–” Pausing briefly as his eyes wandered down to where the colour of your suit had changed, Rooster's heart sank. “Your bleeding?” Coming closer, you leaned into his touch. Feeling a little light headed as Rooster worked to unbutton a few of your flight suit buttons to get a closer look. Grimacing at the sight. “Well it certainly looks worse than it probably feels.”

“Feels like I've been shot by a flare.” The taste of iron covered your taste buds as blood dripped from your nose. Working to wipe it away with the sleeve of your suit.

“Little dramatic but I'd say some form of shrapnel.” Rooster mumbled as he worked to do up the buttons he had undone. “Other than that? You alright?” Silence fell between you as you looked up into Rooster's eyes. Noticing the blood on his neck.

Nodding you pressed your lips together—knowing if you spoke you’d be lying through your teeth. You didn't want to say anything else about any other injuries because you didn't know what was wrong. All your knew was that everything fucking hurt.

“I didn’t mean what I said.” It hurt to speak but you pushed it aside. Reaching out with your good arm to wipe the dirt off Roosters cheek. “I just didn’t want you flying this stupid mission.” You did it all for love.

“Yeah, I gathered that.” Rooster smirked as he reached out to cup your cheeks, standing so close although you were standing in the snow? You felt nothing but warmth. His warmth. “Hangman told me—“

“That fucker—I told him in—“ Rooster didn’t let you finish. His lips were warm against yours for what felt like a lifetime. Time stood still as he deepened it, desperately needed to just be with you. “When we get outta this mess, that's it okay—no more games, I wanna make this, us–work.” It hurt to hold your breath or whatever breath your lungs could hold as you kissed Rooster back. His hands still cupping your cheeks, holding you close to him as snow fell around you. “I thought for a moment there that I’d lost you for good and I’ll never shake that feeling.”

“Rooster—“

“Marry me?” Okay yeah now you couldn’t breathe.

“Did you hit your head?” Reaching out to inspect Rooster’s head, you frowned in response to his out there question. Listening to him chuckle as he shook his head. “What the hell—you hit your head didn't you?”

“I’m serious. Marry me Y/n.” Rooster was as serious as a heart attack.

“Bradley, we’re standing in enemy territory, I don’t know how to get us out of here and you already know whatever we are just isn’t—“

“Don’t think, just do.” Rooster smirked as he kissed you again. His hands squishing your cheeks together as you chuckled into his touch. Pulling away because you genuinely couldn’t breathe, your ribs crushing your lungs.

“Okay okay—I’ll think about it.” Silence fell as your eyes met Roosters. “When we get outta this mess, ask me again.” Roosters hands lingering on your hips—keeping you close as snow fell around you. “We need a plan.” Kissing the top of your head as he pulled you in, Rooster was unaware of the pain you were in.

“Well—what's the plan?” But despite the pain, you still had to figure a way out of here.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Alarm bells rang throughout the valley as you and Rooster laid parched at the lookout point you'd decided was the best vantage point. Holding your binoculars up, you handed them over to Rooster who was looking at you as if you were crazy. You’d have to have hit your head, this was crazy even for you.

“You're not serious?” looking at you with disbelief evident is his eyes Rooster asked if you were bat shit crazy. “You've gotta be shitting me, an F-14?” Rooster held the binoculars up to his eyes one more time to confirm what he was seeing, what he was hearing. There was no way this was your plan. Stupic, idiotic and absolutely chaotic at best.

“Mav’s shot down two MiG’s in one of those things–” You never took your eyes off the prize. This was the only way to get you and Rooster home. The only way you could come up with. “We need a way out—the only way out is to go out the same way we got in, fly.”

“Are you mentally deficient Chaos? This is a suicide mission—“ Rooster argued as he laid beside you on his stomach.

“What, and you thought blowing up all that Uranium wasn’t?” Rooster had to admit he got you there. “Rooster I learnt a long ago that if the Navy was only going to see a girl that’s dangerous, a force to be reckoned with and way too stubborn, then there’s no point in trying to be anything else—they aren’t coming back for me, for you, this is the only way we’re getting out of this alive.”

“We don't even know if that bag of ass can fly! Also, you've never flown one before!” Hissing through gritted teeth Rooster watched as you sat back on your knees, groaning softly as you cupped your side. Your bad arm still resting against your torso. Trying to keep it still without a sling was proving to be a little difficult.

“Let's find out–” You waisted no time as you pushed yourself up onto your feet—marching out into enemy territory.

“Chaos!” Rooster whisper shouted as he reached out for you, slipping through his fingertips as always. “Okay–” Deciding he didn't want to be left behind, Rooster ran after you, catching up quickly as you continued scouting the area. Feeling the brick wall that was Rooster crashing into the back of you as he lost his footing for a second.

“There's guys up there Chaos–”

“Yep–” You acknowledged Rooster as his hands guided your hips.

“There's more over there–” Looking around frantically, Rooster shoved you softly, forcing you to pick up the pace as you saw people running around you. Most likely heading to their stations.

“Okay–let's start running.”

“Yeah, run, run!” It really didn’t take the two of you long to reach the hangar where the old F-14 sat tucked away. Panting as you struggled to breathe—Rooster's stomach dropped at the feeling something might not be okay. “Hey you good?” His hand on the small of your back as you looked over the generator. A million things you had no idea what did or didn’t do. But a few things stood out.

“I’m fine.” It was a blatant lie, but to mention you felt like you were dying would be to worry Rooster for no good reason. “Okay so when I give you the signal for air, you're gonna flip this switch until the needle gets to one twenty.” Rooster listened as you explained what you needed him to do. “When the engine starts, you gotta pull out the pins and disconnect everything– do you understand?”

“How do you know all this?” There really wasn’t time to go into depth about how you’d taken an old aviation course a while back. Nothing serious, but it gave you enough basic knowledge to guess your way through this.

“No time for that now, do you understand?” Shaking off Roosters curiosity.

“Yeah– yeah I'm good.”

“Good.” Turning to try and get power going, you couldn't hold in your excitement when the generator kicked off. “Yes!--’ Racing off as you held your shoulder firmly, losing blood a little quicker than you would have liked to have been.

“Once I'm up, stow the ladder.” Placing your helmet on as Rooster watched on almost starstruck. He couldn't believe this was happening. He always thought you would be the death of him, but this wasn't what he had on his bingo card. Watching as you climbed up the ladder, stowing it away shortly after you sat down in the cockpit.

“Okay wow–talk to me Mav, what am I looking at here?” You mumbled to yourself as electronic wiring filled the cockpit as you gave Rooster the signal. Firing up the engines, Rooster raced around untagging and pulling pins. Jumping up onto the wing of the F-14 before settling in behind you.

“Oh my god this thing is so old–” Rooster had never flown with you before. Sure, he’d flown with you in terms of training—but he’d never been your back seater. He’d never been in the same cockpit as you.

“Canopy?” Rooster knew what type of pilot you were, reckless and crazy.

“Clear–!” But that was exactly what you both needed to get you out of here alive. Try or die. Pulling out of the hanger slowly, the creaking of aluminium filled your eardrums as you hit the breaks. Fuck— there way nothing left.

“Both runways are cratered, how are we gonna get this museum piece in the air?” Rooster asked as he sat behind you. Watching as you flipped the safety up—extending the wings out as if you were preparing for takeoff.

“Why are the wings coming out, Chaos?” You couldn’t help but to chuckle at how ridiculous it sounded coming out of Roosters mouth. He knew exactly why the wings were coming out—he just didn’t want to believe you were inherently this fucking crazy. This desperate. “Chaos this is a taxiway, not a runway, this is a very short taxiway Chaos!”

“Rooster just hang on–” You didn't see another way out. Committing as you fired up everything the old nF-14 had to give as full speed. Sending you both back against your chairs.

“Holy Shit!” If Rooster lived to see the day, he swore to himself that if he ever had the chance to have children, he’d be sure to tell them about the time their mother used a taxiway as a runway. Hopefully that would be enough to convince them of just how crazy you were. Perhaps maybe they'd be too scared to be reckless themselves.

“C’mon c’mon c’mon needles alive, c’mon– You grinned as you watched the needle climb, pulling up on your throttle as your landing gear left the taxiway.

“Chaos!!” Rooster shouted as he felt you lifting off.

“That's it, c'mon! C’mon! Here we go!”

“Holy shit!” Rooster felt like he was going to be sick, this was crazy even for you. The craziest thing he’d ever seen anyone do, and he knew Maverick. This took the cake. He felt the landing gear rip off the bottom of the F-14 as you just barely missed the top of the lookout. Exhaling in relief, Rooster turned his ESAT on. “You’re fucking crazy–”

“Hey if you have any ideas air them now Bradshaw–” Laughing together, you thought you were home free.”Can you work on getting us in touch with the boat?”

“Yeah, working on it, but the radio’s out, we have no radar, everything is dead back here. What should I do? talk me through it.”

“Okay, um–first the radio, throw the uh–UHF-2 breaker, try that?” There was something incredibly attractive about the way you told him what to do. Rooster knew it was probably really bad timing, but he couldn't help the way he felt. It was empowering, you were strong and fierce and everything his mother told him to find in a woman.

“There are three hundred breakers back there, anything more specific?” Rooster looked around at all the breakers trying to find the one you'd told him to try, completely overwhelmed.

“I’ve only taken a short course on old aviation and navigation, dad and Mav never really talked all that much about anything like that– I think it was more of your dad's department.”

“I'll figure it out.” Flying steady, it was almost too good to be true. Too easy, pulled off without a hitch. There was a small part of you that felt like something else was about to go wrong. The engine would die or the wings would fall off. “Chaos tally two five o’clock low.” Well it wasn't what you were imagining but it was still serious. “what do we do?”

“Okay listen, just be cool, if they knew who we were, we’d be dead already.” That much was ture. Scrambling your brain trying to come up with a plan, but there was nothing–you were running on empty.

“Well, here they come– what's your plan?” You wanted to be honest and say you didn't have one, because you really didn't. But you couldn't go down without a fight–not when you had Roosters life on the line as well. You were getting yourself out of this. Getting Rooster out of this.

“Just put your mask on, remember, we’re on the same team.” Flying up beside you the bandits gestured a few things you weren't sure of, signalling back you tried to say you could hear. That must have told them something was off. Watching as he filled back. “Oh shit his wingman is moving into weapons envelope.” Alright, listen up– when I tell you, you grab those rings above your head.” Rooster looked up to where the yellow and black striped rope was above his head. “That's the ejection handle.”

“Chaos can we outrun these guys?”

“Not their missiles and guns.”

“Then it's a dog fight–” You let Rooster's words linger in the air for a moment. He knew you had it in you, but something was stopping you from being reckless.

“An F-14, against fifth generation fighters?” Arguing the point, you really didn't want to have to admit you didn't think you could do it. Your lungs felt like they were full of water, your heart burned, your shoulder throbbed and your nose felt like it was ten times bigger than it should have been. You’d done a bang up job on yourself that was for sure.

“It's not the plane, it's the pilot.” Rooster's voice was soft, a starck contrast to the situation you were both facing right now. “I know you’d go after then if I wasn't here.”

“But you are here–” The way you said it, such softness in your tone, such a love, with such a desire to protect him. Rooster had to snap you out of it because he knew you better than anyone and there was no one else who could get the two of you out of this. It was do or die trying, there wasn't any room to hold back.

“C’mon Chaos, don't think, just do.” As if something possessed you in the blink of an eye—you were pulling back on the throttle violently. Forcing your jet behind the firs bandit before hammering in with your guns. Peppering the aluminium. “Tell me when you see smoke in the air!” Rooster did his best to stay in his seat as you broke left, then right. Doing your best to evade the second bandit. Turning around to look at the missile coming directly at you—tone ringing throughout the cockpit.

“Smoke in the air!! smoke in the air!”

“Hang on!” Turning left as sharp as you could, you swung low–racing past the bandit that was already on its way down. The missile that had been heading directly at you making contact with the bandit as you cut in front of him.

“Yeah Chaos! Splash one splash one!” Rooster cheered behind you, turning to see the bandit on your tail had fired yet another missile. “Here comes another one.”

“Rooster flares, now, now, now!” Rooster did as he was told, working quickly to deploy countermeasures, flares popping as he held his finst against the button. “Splitting the throttles, coming around.” You knew you were talking to yourself at this point but you didn't really care. It seemed to help as you pulled back and fell behind the bandit. Now positioned behind him once again. Chasing him down as you tried your best to get your targeting system on him. “Give me tone give me tone” The target lock beeped rapidly–notifying you that you had him locked. Or her– you weren't really sure and you didn't really care, it was them or you.

“You got him Chaos you got him!” Rooster kept doing his best to keep you focused, keep you fighting. He couldn't really do anything else. All his systems were down, he wasn't a backseater.

“I'm taking the shot!” As you took the shot with one of only two missiles that you had– you hoped it was a straight shooter. Unfortunately it wasn't, and you couldn't really explain what actually happened even if you tried. Watching as the bandit stalled his engines and flew straight past you, flat in a spin that seemed near impossible to control.

“Holy shit what the fuck was that?” Rooster had never seen a manoeuvre like that, neither had you.

“Hang on, we gotta get low, the terrain will confuse his targeting system.” swinging low, the nose of your F-14 took a steep dive towards the valley, only mere metres above the ground as you took sharp lefts and rights.

“Here he comes!” Rooster announced as he had his head turned. Feeling the not so good sensation of rounds embedding into the aluminium of your F-14.

“We took a hit, we took a hit!” Rooster watched as the bandit gained turf on your tail.

“Talk to me Rooster, where is he?”

“He's still on us!”

“Damit–”

“C’mon Chaos to some of the Vigilante shit!” This felt personal now. You were fucking pissed. You were hurt, bleeding. They say looks could kill and the way you were looking at this bandit right now—How was he not already dead?

“Brace yourself!” You were flying for revenge. Not a single aviation rule applied at this point. Pulling up as you climbed for altitude only to swing back around and cut the engine for a brief second to fall behind again.

“Holy shit!” Rooster usually had a pretty good constitution, but the way you were flying? It had him on the brink of spewing chunks down your back.

“I got tone, taking the shot!” You watched with revenge in your eyes as the Missile went flying towards the bandit. Smoke in the air as he deployed his flares—making contact. “Dammit—I’m out of missiles, switching to guns.”

“You got him Chaos!”

“It's not over yet, once last chance!”

“You can do this!” It felt like you were peering through a window, a deep portal, time travelling

All the love you unravelled and the life you almost gave away as Rooster encouraged you to keep fighting. Memories flashing back as you chased the bandit down.

“I'm trying to break up with you Y/n”

“I can't make you wait for me, I'm not going to do that.”

“I think I'm ready to let go now–”

“Thank you for breaking me to the point where I learned to finally value myself, It took a lot.”

“I'm not doing this anymore, this back and forth bullshit!”

“Well figure out a way to stop because you will be the last person I allow back into my life!”

“Go to hell Kazansky.”

As your mind whipped through a rolodex of memories, you hadnt even noticed you’d pulled the trigger for the final time. Peppering the banit with everything you had left. Roosters cheers, pulling you back from your subconscious.

“Yes! Splash two splash two!!” Bradley couldn't control his excitement if he tried, reacting over to tap your shoulder– not releasing it was your bad one.”

“AH, Fuck!” Hissing through gritted teeth you closed your eyes tight. Flying smooth over the water towards the carrier's last known positioning.

“What, what's wrong?” Rooster asked, not knowing how bad things really were. “Are you alright?”

“Im fine its just–” Pausing briefly, you let out a prolonged exhale as you adjusted yourself. “Just my shoulder Bradshaw, nothing I can't handle, just work on getting us in touch with the carrier.” It didn't take Rooster too long to figure out where that breaker was hiding that you told him about before the bandits had showed up.

Chaos, I got the radio on, gonna get us in touch now–”

“Copy That–” All of a sudden, your alarm systems began blaring. All you could think was not again, had you not been through enough all ready? “Oh my god–” Looking around you began to panic, eyes wide with fear.

“Where the hell is this guy?” Rooster questioned as he did the same, leaving fingerprints on the glass of the cockpit as he twirled in his chair. Looking every which way possible to try and spot the bandit.

“Rooster–he’s on our nose.” There wasn’t a moment more than now where you wished you could wake up screaming from dreaming, quickly acting to fire another round of ammunition—nothing “Dammit it, we’re out of ammo.” With fearful eyes and a heart racing at a million miles an hour—you saw the unimaginable. A missile coming straight for you. “SMOKE IN THE AIR–ROOSTER FLARES!” There was barely any time to react, you’d only just managed to pull up on the throttle. Sending the nose of your F-14 sky high.

“That was close!” Rooster turned in his seat as his eyes followed the bandit, watching with a tight chest and shallow breathing as he came back around. Coming right after you. Pressing his thumb against the flare ignition—nothing. “We’re out of flares Chaos!”

“Shit he's already on us!” Stuck in a tin can, bleeding to death—there wasn’t much else you had up your sleeves. In all accounts you’d put up a pretty good fight, one hell of a fight even. The sound of artillery fire rained down on your F-14, jolting you around as warning bells blared and systems flashed.

“We took another hit.”

“no , no, no, no, no, no–”

“We can't take much more of this!”

“We can't out run this guy, we gotta eject!”

“What?” Rooster would follow you to the end of the earth if you asked him to. But there had to be another way. One more spectacular surprise up your sleeve. You’d gotten him this far, the carrier was in sight.

“We need altitude, pull the ejection handles the second I tell you.”

“Chaos wait–” How could you give up now?

“Rooster there's no other way, eject eject eject!” It felt like the weight of the world was crushing you in on yourself—your lungs burned like smouldering piles of tar. “Rooster–pull the goddamn handle!”

“It's, not, working!” Those three simple words held so much weight. Enough to break you. Rooster tried his best to break the canopy free but it was no use. You’d done even in your power to save him, save yourself. But all your efforts would go unnoticed.

Underneath all your bad blood, you and Rooster still had your sanctum. Despite everything? Bradley Bradshaw was still home.

Although you’d said it a million times over, but it was never too late to build it back everything you had—everything you wanted to have and more. A one-in-a-million chance is still a chance at the end of the day—and for Rooster you would take those odds.

“I’m so sorry—“ There was no time left to unbreak the broken, unsay spoken words, find hope in the hopeless. There was no time to beg for someone to pull you out of the train wreck. There was no time to unbury the ashes or unchain the reactions.

“I'm so sorry Bradley—“ You simply were not ready to die, not yet. As you closed your eyes, knowing soon after you’d be consumed entirely by fire—Rooster voice pulled you back out of the void that had its strong grip around your throat. Numb to almost everything as you held onto whatever life you had in you. Cold, your fingers and toes seemed to be numb. The left side of your body, just nothing. Ghostly.

An air to air kill. That’s what it was. The explosion so big, so powerful—it left clouds of dark black smoke lingering like demons. The gates of hell itself had opened up as a familiar F-18 came soaring through the plumes.

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, this is your saviour speaking—“ With a sigh of utter relief and a thankful smirk. You had never been so happy to see Jake Seresin. “Please fasten your seatbelts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions, and prepare for landing.” Smacking your first twince against the glass of the cockpit, you laughed aloud. So beyond thankful. You were fucking alive—alive long enough to see Rooster back on stable ground. Safe with the people who cared about him the most.

“Hey Hangman–You look good.” Rooster commented from his seat in the back. You couldn’t help but to chuckle as Jake nodded in response before radioing back, the same cocky response he’d given Rooster at the Hard Deck.

“I am good Rooster, I'm very good. I'll see you back on deck.”

“Impeccable timing—“ Rooster sighed as he felt his entire body relax as you followed Hangman back to the carrier. “And exceptional dog fighting, lieutenant Kazansky.”

“I had someone pretty important to protect, I wasn’t going down without a fight.” You had nothing left to give. Fighting with everything you had to stay awake, stay alert and land this F-14. Switching channels as you radios back to the carrier. “Chaos is downwind. No front landing gear, no tailhook, pull the cable and raise the barricade.”

There was something important you had to do. Racing past the bridge of the carrier where both Admiral Beau and Admiral Bates stood. You flew low and close as you held your finger up to the glass. Giving them the bird before your right engine cut out.

“Please don't tell me we lost an engine.” Rooster sighed, what else could possibly go wrong.

“Alright I won't tell you that.” Chuckling you braced for impact. With no landing gear you hit the deck with a thud—scrapping for what felt like miles as the barricade helped to slow you to a complete stop. “You good?”

“Yeah, i'm good–” Nodding as he spoke, Rooster was quick to remove his helmet as the canopy opened. Standing to greet the crowd of overly excited crew who thought for sure you were both goners. “Here, I got you.” It was a simple gesture but a much needed one. Rooster stood on the ladder as he helped you down. Noticing how much blood had soaked your flight suit. “Fucking hell you’re not okay.”

“M’fine.” It came out more of a mumble than a definitive statement but before you could try again Rooster was being hauled away into the crowd of excited cheering men and women. Jake Seresin appeared as the crowd dissipated from around him as they drew their atom Rooster. “Chalked yourself another kill?” You teased as he stood before you. Handing you a handkerchief to wipe the blood off your face that had dripped from your nose. Swollen and surely broken.

“That makes two–”

“Chaos has Five, makes her an ace.” Phoenix was quick to interject as her and Bob joined the conversation. Bob carefully and ever so gently wrapped his arms around you, drawing you in for a hug that he never thought he’d get to give you. 

“Lieutenant Kazanksy!” Although even for less then a few minutes,there wasn’t a part of Rooster that didn’t want to be by your side. “Lieutenant Kazansky!” God you couldn't let him speak another word, pulling Rooster in by his flight suit as he neared you. Your lips on his as he leaned into you.

“Thank you for saving my life.” Mumbling against Rooster mouth you felt your heart skipping beats. You tried to tell yourself it was because of Rooster—but deep down? You knew it had something to do with the way everything felt numb. How everything seemed to still, all the noise and colour in the world began to fade.

“You did the same for me–” Rooster cooed just as he noticed how disoriented you’d become. Suddenly dropping forward into him as your legs gave out. “Chaos?” The adrenaline that had been pumping through your veins since that helicopter came after you. “Hey—Y/n?” Tapping your check softly, Rooster dropped to his knees with you limp in his arms. Your eyes on his as you struggled to breathe. “Woah—hey, what’s wrong? Chaos, can you hear me?” You couldn’t hear Rooster, not at all. But you could see his lips moving as Bob worked to clear a space around you—calling for medical staff to intervene.

“Shit—no, no, no, no—hey Y/n you stay with me yeah?” Rooster felt the blood on his hands as it seeped through your flight suit. “Don’t do this, we’re good? Yeah? Your alright—“

“I’ll marry you.” Choking it out as blood leaked from your mouth. “Don’t think, just do.” Eyes rolling as you lost it completely, following whatever force was pulling you away.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Jake Seresin had become used to the steady melody that was the bells and whistles that let him know you were still fighting. Unlike Rooster, who hadn’t left the hospital let alone Miramar—Hangman would do the usual rounds every few days.

First on his ever growing list of tasks would be to always stop by the nurses station. With his tan service uniform dawned and a smile that could break hearts, he’d lean on the counter and chat to whoever would give him the time of day.

After getting his kicks with the front desk nurses—Jake would make his way to your room. He’d taken it as a good thing when they moved you out of intensive care to general pop. But he didn’t account for the roommates you would acquire. Rooster and Bob had yet to leave, they would tag team watching over you.

Jake would linger at the threshold of the room for a moment, he’d take in the sight of you. Intubated, comatosed, arm in a sling to help your shoulder heel, collarbone broken. With a sigh, he’d put on a brave face. Stalking over to read your chart that hung from the bottom on your bed. By all accounts you seemed to be getting better, so why after three weeks had you shown no sign of waking up.

The next item on the agenda would be to check on Bradley and Bob. The Miramar hospital's latest residences. Jake would pick up the rubbish from takeout, he’d pick dead followers out of the bunches Rooster continued to buy you. He’d place blankets over Bob and Rooster as they laid knocked out old on those uncomfortable as all hell hospital chairs. He’d even go as far as to make sure the window would be cracked open slightly, hoping the fresh air would do good to help you recover.

Today was different though. Because as Jake Seresin stood at the threshold of your hospital room, a bunch of flowers in his hand to replace the decaying ones he’d seen diminishing rapidly on Wednesday—he saw you looking back at him. Eyes tired with a soft smirk evident on your face.

“Well I’ll be damned—“ You didn’t respond, you simply placed your finger over your mouth. Jake understood instantly as he crept into the room. Taking in the fact Rooster and Bob both sat slouched in the corner of the room. One drooling, both slightly snoring with mouths a jar. “How long have you been awake?” Hangman was as quiet as he could be as he placed the bunch of flowers at the foot of your bed.

“About an hour—give or take.” Watching as he pulled up a spare chair, coming close to your bedside as your eyes followed him. “I didn’t wanna wake them.” Gesturing to where Rooster and Bob sat sleeping, leading on one another for support as they caught up on the one thing that seemed to evade them—sleep. Jake followed your gaze for a brief moment before turning back to you. “They look like hell.”

“I dunno if you’ve had a chance to look in the mirror Chaos, but I think it’s safe to say you look the most hellish.”

“And you pick up? With that attitude? Pfft—way to make a girl swoon Seresin.” Laughing hurt, but you pushed throughout the pain. “How long have they been here for?”

“Well Robert decided to join the sleepover after you got out of the intensive care ward—Rooster? I don’t think he’s left your side since the carrier, man had to be detained for a minute there while on board.”

“What why!”

“Because he wouldn’t let you go, people were trying to do their jobs you know, help you—but Rooster just would not let them take you.”You had nearly given your life for him, how could he ever let you go? It probably wasn't the most rational decision, but it was the only one his brain at the time would commit to. In his arms you would be the safest. “Have you spoken to the doctors yet?”

“I told them I’d buzz when I was ready to be poked and prodded—just wanted to kinda lay here and just breathe.” Hangman smirked as he pushed himself out of the chair he sat on, reaching out for the clipboard hanging at the foot of your bed before nestling back into the chair. Leaning back as he flipped through the reports, looking at you grimacing.

“Shrapnel from SAM’s embedded in soft tissue of left shoulder, a broken clavicle—full fitness tear of your subscapularis, seven broken ribs, a punctured lung, broken nose—and to top it all off? Chaos, you had a bloody stroke.” It came as a massive shock to you, Hangman could tell by the way you just shared into his soul. Speechless, stunned. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact you managed to fly an F-14 back to the carrier with a busted collarbone—that would’ve been enough to take me out of the fight.”

“I don’t really remember much.” That part was no surprise as Jake flipped the papers back onto the clipboard, setting it aside. “I remember the mission, being hit—everything after that’s pretty blurry.”

Rustling from the corner of the room at you and Jake turned your heads almost completely synchronised to see what all the commotion was about. Bob had stirred himself awake from the sheer lack of comfort. Rubbing his eyes as he yawned—Bob’s eyes met yours and instantly thought he was still dreaming.

“Hi—“ Only when you said something did he stumble over to your bedside, his glasses crooked on the bridge of his nose.

“What? You’re awake!” Too scared to touch you, Bob's hands shook as they hovered over your arm. He’s always known you to be strong, fearless, independent. This was a whole new ball game though. You looked fragile, like paper thin glass that could shatter into a million pieces instantly if he wasn't careful. Bruises still purple, green and yellow. Bandages and stitches covered cuts and deep lacerations. Your nose looked better though, he'd give you that much.

“Seems like it, yeah.”

“How long? Why didn’t anyone wake me? Wake Rooster—?” Bob questioned as he turned back over his shoulder to see Rooster till sleeping soundly.

“An hour give or take, and you looked like you needed the rest.”

“They only took your interbations out like four days ago.” Bob was quick to pull up a chair as he sat down on the other side of you. Still rubbing his eyes, still waking up. Feeling groggy but god was it worth it to have you awake again.

“Miss Chaos here is still defying odds it seems.” Jake Seresin had developed a new apraction for you. He saw you as something higher than a god.

“How long have I been out for?” You weren't really sure how long it had been, but by the scruff that covered Roosters cheeks as he slept it must have been a hot minute or two.

“Three weeks give or take a few days, Doctors thought it could’ve been a lot longer, something about how your body had been put under a lot of stress.” Bob explained as he monitored your heartbeat, the numbers steady, giving him peace of mind. Always such a numbers guy.

“Admiral Beau is pressing for gross misconduct you know.” Hangman let it slip just as Rooster began to stir awake. “Says your injuries were a direct result of your own actions.”

“Doesn't surprise me.” Coughing slightly as Bob handed you one of those small plastic cups full of water. Helping you take a sip carefully. Holding the back of your head gently for support. “He’s not my biggest stan is he?”

“Nope, but he probably won't get very far, especially since he denied my request to fly aircover–” Jake's eyes were full of rage as he cracked his knuckles. Rooster finally came to as he sat up in his chair, the blanket that covered his legs falling absentmindedly to the ground as he groaned, not in pain–but from something that wasn't comfort. “Ah, this should be good.” Jake smirked as he let out a soft chuckle. Bob couldn't hold back his smile as he did the same, leaning back into his chair as Rooster rubbed his eyes. “Hey Bradshaw– look who’s back in the land of the living.” Jake caught Bradleys attention.

“Oh my god!” Bradley Brashaw had never moved so quickly in his life. Racing across the room like a mad man to get to your side. His eyes full of love and admiration as they welled with tears. The happiest of tears to see your smile again. To see your eyes, big and full of life. “You’re awake.”

“And you have a beard.” You couldn't help but to tease, reaching up to cup Roosters cheek as he leaned in to softly kiss your forehead. Something he had done every day for the last three weeks. “I like it.” Rooster smiled against your forehead before pulling away, gesturing for Hangman to move his ass out of the chair he sat in.

“Can you like, move man?”

“Because you asked so nicely.” Hangman winked as he stood. “C’mon Bobby let's go get a bite to eat, I'm starving.” Bob looked panicked as Hangman gestured to him to get up. You sent him the softest of looks knowing he just didn't wanna leave.

“Robert Floyd, I'll be here when you get back.” The way you said it with such certainly gave Bob peace of mind, you looked

“I know what you felt like when everyone said to leave Sam.” Bob's voice was soft as he looked down at his feet. “Promise you’ll be here.” It wasn't a question, Bob needed you to promise or else he wasn't leaving. Reaching out for his hand you held him as tight as you could, which wasn't all that hard.

“I promise.” It hurt to leave you but he knew he had to give you and Rooster some time alone. Standing to his feet Bob let your hand go as you turned your attention back to Bradley. A soft smile plastering itself across your face as you let your head fall back against the pillow. “Hi–”

“Hi yourself.” Bradley beamed as he kissed the back of your hand over and over again. “Shit I dont even know where to start.” Choking back his tears, Rooster just softened his gaze, taking you in for all your wew. The love of his life. “How are you feeling?”

“Um– yeah I've felt better, I won't lie.” You couldn't take your eyes off Rooster, he looked so damn good with that scruff, that almost beard that covered his cheeks and chin. “I don't remember much at all.”

“What do you remember?” Rooster cooed as he ever so lovingly moved as close to you as the chair would allow him to.

“Um–” You could still hear it, how panicked rooster was when he said he was out of flares. “I remember you saying you were out of flares.” Swallowing to stop yourself from choking up. “I remember the heat from the fire, and the weird way the snow burnt too. I can vaguely remember shoving you at one point but that's all I got.” Rooster nodded softly in response as he sat back in his chair.

“Well boy, do I have a story for you.” Rooster sat with you for what had to have been a good hour and a half explaining in depth what had happened. Everything you had done for him. Doctors and nurses worked around him as they did check ups and small assessments. He held your hand as they drew blood and never left your side.

Bradley Bradshaw told you everything that had happened, his hero. Only excluding one key detail. The fact he’d asked you in full confidence to marry him.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Four Months Later.

“Whatcha doin?” The sound of your walking stick had become a common noise Bradley Bradshaw had associated with your presence. He’d hear the gentle thud against the hardwood floor and know you were somewhere close by.

Your arm wrapping around Roosters torso from behind, he hadnt heard you coming. Turning in your arms Rooster faced you– looking slightly down and you tilted your chin up towards him. He’d kept the beard.

“Where is your walking cane?” You had been spending your time at Roosters childhood home. With Carole gone it sat empty most of the time while he was deployed. With recovery still months ahead, it only seemed out of necessity for you to move in with the man you swore to be by your side every step of the way. Even if it were only a temporary thing.

“In the bin where it belows.” Rooster had been doing some remodelling in his spare time. He’d ripped up the old carpet in the living room–knocked out the old splash-back in the kitchen, even changed the majority of the light fixtures throughout the house.

“Y/n–” Rooster smirked as he let his hands fall softly to your waist, playing with the strap that ran across the circumference of your waist–your arm still in a sling from your shoulder surgery months ago.

“Bradley–?” You questioned back with raised eyebrows.

“You had a stroke, we've talked about this.” Rooster sighed as you huffed at him, pulling away.

“I don't need it anymore! Look!” Spinning around in a small circle as you touched your nose. “See-perfectly fine.” It had only been four months since the Uranium Mission and by all accounts you had been recovering well from your injuries. But time was definitely something you were struggling to accept you needed to heal completely. You hated being grounded, hated being on sick leave, hated not being able to go to work.

“Shit someone call Mav, may as well get you back up in the pilot's seat.” Rooster teased as he crossed his arms. He knew better than anyone else that was killing you. But he had to be the voice of reason.

“You aren't funny–” Sending him a glare you turned on your heels, heading down the hallway.

“Just get your cane so we can go will you?” It was sad that your favourite day of the week had become grocery shopping day. You and Rooster would make a whole day of it.

“Fine– but not because you told me to.” You’d start with the list the night before, both going through the fridge freezer and pantry to see what you had left and what you needed.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night Chaos!” Then before you’d even make it to the first of three grocery stores plus the specialty butcher—Rooster would stop by the local cafe, picking up the regular coffees and breakfast bagels you’d never get tired of eating.

Meeting Rooster outside by the passenger side door that he had opened and ready for you to jump on in—he’d pull you into him for a loving kiss. This was the domestic bliss he’d craved for so many years.

“Did you get a new air freshener?” Questioning the intense smell of pine that smacked you in the face. His side of the broken heart necklace still hanging from his rear view mirror. “Smells like—“ sniffing, you couldn’t put your finger on it until the memory came flooding back. “Pine—“

“Marry me?”

“Did you hit your head?” What the hell—you hit your head didn't you?”

“I’m serious. Marry me Y/n.”

“Bradley, we’re standing in enemy territory, I don’t know how to get us out of here and you already know whatever we are just isn’t—“

“Don’t think, just do.”

“Okay okay—I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll marry you.”

The smell of pine brought the missing pieces of the puzzle back as Rooster climbed into the driver's seat, fixing his seatbelt.

“Oh my god—“

“What? You good?”

“You’d asked me to marry you?” It came out softer than you thought it would have as you turned to look at Rooster confused. “You asked me to marry you after I found you in the snow—“

“Y/n, listen to me—“ Rooster could physically see the panic rising as your eyes widened in disbelief.

“And all this time you never thought to mention it!?” He’d admit it may have been the wrong thing to do. A judgement call he’d blundered. Rooster knew bits and pieces had started to come back. Not only would you tell him when something would be triggered, but he’d help to curve the nightmares that plagued you.

“Chaos—“ You didn’t want to listen, opening the door of Roosters bronco, stepping out as fast as you could without your cane as you hobbled your way back inside. Rooster hot on your tail. “Wait a second will you.”

“For what exactly! What am I waiting for? Huh? Is all this just some elaborate scheme of yours? I saved your life so I’ll scratch your back huh! Is that it!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t bother to jog my fucking memory! You told me everything else except the part where you literally asked me to marry you!!”

“I can explain why if you would just let me—“ Trying his best to come closer to you but every step Rooster took you’d take one step back. Holding your hand out as if to protect yourself.

“You’re just waiting for the right time to leave again aren’t you, that’s why you didn’t say anything because you took it back, right?” Within an instant your inherent anger turned to sadness at the thought of being left alone again. “Right, Bradshaw? Because who was I to think that you’d stick around—“

“No—“ Rooster had been in this position before where he’d been too much of a coward to speak. He wouldn’t let that happen again. And he wasn’t about to take it so personally this time when you were so quick to accuse him of leaving. Because he had done that, a million times over. “No, I'm not waiting for some miracle moment to come to leave you.”

“Bradley I—“ Finally getting close enough to pull you closer by your hips, the back of the legs against the couch.

“Hey, shut up.” Bradley pulled you down onto his lap as he sat on the couch. “I’m gonna tell you the truth and you're gonna listen and then we’re gonna go get these bagels before I starve to death alright?”

“Okay—“ Bradley was quick to wipe the tears away that fell from your cheeks as you straddled His waist. His hands cupping your cheeks as your forehand rest against his.

“The only reason, and I mean the only reason why I didn’t tell you I’d asked you to marry me was because I wanted to give you a chance to become yourself again before literally becoming someone else entirely.” It was the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Your heart grew so big as Bradley spoke. “I’ll marry you tomorrow if you’d have me Y/n but I wasn’t gonna do that to you when you’d just been on death's door. I mean I watched you learn to walk again, I just wanted you to find your way back without thinking about me, thinking about a wedding and all the really stupid and stressful things that come along with that.”

“So, where do we go from here? I mean--”

“I have absolutely no intention to ever leave you again, you're it for me—I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to convince you of that if I have to.” On that note Rooster was as gentle as he could have been as he helped you off of him, jumping up as he ran down the hall, the small velvet ring box hidden at the back of his sock drawer. Jogging down and hall back to you before he got down on his knees before you.

“Oh Bradley—“ You sobbed. Covering your mouth as you laughed together. “Now!?”

“Waited my entire life to get this right, so—Y/n Chaos Kazansky, will you marry me?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

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#bradley bradshaw x female reader #chaos // bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw angst #top gun bob #top gun hangman #top gun bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n

[five-rivers]

Checkerboard

Will add an AO3 link once the ddos attack is over. In the meantime, please enjoy this Gen Rex fic! It's whump. :)

Edit: AO3 Link!

.

One moment, Rex was breaking free of the control collar, as planned.  The next– 

Caesar hadn't realized that witch could move that fast.  

The fight was, in a word, brutal.  Rex was good, very good, even Caesar could see that, but against both an equal opponent and the relentless black pawns, even he had limits.  Especially when he was avoiding lethal blows.  It appeared he hadn't, quite, realized that the black pawns were robots.  

That was an oversight on Caesar's part, he'd admit.  He knew that Rex had the ability to detect nearby nanites, but he didn't know if that ability was behind the consciousness partition his parents had set up in the onboard AI, and even if it wasn't, well, having the ability to perceive something and understanding the information it gave you were two very different things.  Especially under stress.  

Black Knight crushed Rex's latest set of smack hands with a nanite-generated hammer, then tipped him over, wrapping him with her whip.  He hit the floor hard, but it was obvious he was going to break free momentarily, and possibly even counter with his own whip build, but Black Knight's hammer shifted into a sword, and she brought it down through Rex's shoulder.

"Stop!  Stop!  What are you doing?" demanded Caesar.  

The black pawns moved in, aiming at Rex from point blank range.

"Kill or control," said Black Knight.  "That's Providence's current protocol.  If we get your brother back under control, we can put ‘cure’ back on the table, but until then… What will it be?"  The ultimatum, because that's what it was, was delivered in the same falsely pleasant tone Black Knight gave all her orders in.  

Caesar clenched his jaw.  Some people might think he was cold and disconnected, that he lacked empathy, feelings, care for anything that wasn’t one of his experiments.  Dr. Holiday, for example, had, shortly after Rex’s disappearance, accused Caesar of being a psychopath.

Well.  Caesar knew there was something not quite right about him.  Never had felt like getting a diagnosis.  But he hadn’t cried over his parents’ deaths, and he hadn’t cried over Rex’s disappearance.  He certainly hadn’t gotten as emotional as Holiday, or even Six. 

But he did love his brother.  He knew that love was just the result of neural connections in the brain, coupled with certain chemical reactions, but that didn’t make it less real.  He wanted his brother to be healthy and happy.  That was love, yes?  

But for Rex to be healthy and happy, he also had to be alive.  

He met Rex’s eyes.  Rex, unlike Caesar, was emotional.  Caesar could easily read the pain, fury, and fear on Rex’s face.  Fear that quickly slid into terror as Rex realized what Caesar was going to do.

“Dr. Salazar, your decision.  You can stop stalling.  We neutralized the robot monkey, and even all the Numbers working together couldn’t break into this facility fast enough to keep me and my pawns from terminating this EVO.”

“He-ahhhh!”  Rex’s protest was cut off with a sideways jerk of Black Knights blade, ending with a high-pitched whine.  There was no blood - Rex, as a rule, didn’t bleed.  His nanites had instructions about that.  But even so…

“Alright, alright!” said Caesar.  “I’ll do it!  I’ll just.  This isn’t something I can do immediately.  I told you Rex’s nanites were different.”  He had.  Multiple times.  Some of those times were even after his six-years-in-fifteen-minutes trip.  

“I’d think it’d be a simple matter, considering you worked on him before.  And your control of the Omega-1 during your… reappearance.”

“I’d think,” said Caesar, retrieving a set of new control collars and checking their serial numbers, “you’d appreciate the difficulty, considering anything that could easily be done to Rex could easily be done to you.”  

Black Knight’s smile grew sharper, showing teeth.  “Careful.  Dr. Salazar.”

Caesar made sure his tablet computer was synchronized with the main control computer and walked towards Rex.  The pawns who weren’t aiming at him were now aiming at Caesar.  He held up the collars and his tablet.  “I’ve got to start somewhere, right?”

“Let him by,” said Black Knight in an almost magnanimous tone.  She had a lot of practice with that one.  

“Okay, mijo,” said Caesar, with false cheer, “let’s get started.”

“Don’t do thi–”

His protest was cut off as Black Knight changed the angle of her sword, enlarging the wound.  Rex gasp, breath hitching, and Caesar decided the best way to handle this was fast, like ripping off a bandaid.  He wrapped the first collar around Rex’s neck.  

Predictably, because Rex could be predictable, sometimes, (it was, Caesar thought, probably a result of many of his subconscious thought processes and actions being directed by nanite programs) the skin on his neck lit up with blue lines that crossed over onto the collar and took it apart.  

“Don’t–” said Caesar, quickly.  “Don’t.  There’s a reason I brought more than one, yes?”

“You have fifteen minutes.  My arm is getting tired.”

“Please, Rex, just… Let it happen.”

Rex bit his lower lip and glared up at him.  Caesar swallowed and checked his tablet, looked at what, exactly, Rex had done to the collar, and made a few adjustments.  He had to - he had to get this right.  

Despite the whip and despite the sword, Rex still tried to twitch away from the collar.  This time, Caesar could hear the activation tone of the nanites.  They’d intended to remove some of the audio cues after the nanites got out of the prototype phase, but since things had turned out the way they did, they’d never gotten around to it.  

He kept an eye on the tablet, watching the feedback and already making adjustments to the next collar.  When the second - or should he count it as the third? - one broke, it was ready to slide into place.  

And…  There!  He’d need some more changes.  Just a little more.  But this time… Yes!  He could stop Rex from breaking this one for long enough to get his foot in the door, at least.  And Rex was wearing out.  

He had limits.  And Caesar wasn’t exactly fighting fair.  

He snapped the next collar - hopefully the last one - into place.  The program, a construction command for the Omega-1, started running immediately, relaying its results to the tablet.  Caesar watched them anxiously, but he didn’t have much faith in that particular program as anything but a delaying tactic.  Rex’s self-programming capabilities had taken care of that particular backdoor within the first week of Caesar’s return.  

But the program he was loading up now was a bit different.  Simple, yes, there wasn’t time for anything complex, but hopefully effective, given Caesar’s special permissions and privileges in the nanite system.  

The second program worked like this: it sent a request for access to Rex’s code interface, tagged with Caesar’s administrator codes.  For various ethical and practical reasons (their parents didn’t quite trust Caesar not to use higher-level access for pranks) Caesar had never been given full, unimpeded access to Rex’s nanite programming.  But… the admin codes meant that he got a response.  A little popup that said nothing but ‘request denied.’  Rex also could accept the request, but, well…

Caesar looked at Rex, whose face was screwed up into an expression of pained but determined confusion.  That just didn’t seem likely.  Even if the request was handled entirely behind the consciousness partition.  

The program didn’t just send one request, though.  It sent repeated requests.  As many as it could, on a code loop only a few lines long.  

The whirr of the nanites became more stressed as they worked on endless access requests.  The nanites were tiny, brilliant computers, but they were, in the end, still computers.  Computers (and everything, really), as a rule, generated heat when they were working.  They’d managed to break physics in so many ways working on the nanite project, but not that one.  

Rex began to sweat and pant as his body tried to regulate its internal temperature.  Every inhale hitched and every exhale was accompanied by a pained whine.  As a rule, Caesar didn’t experience empathy, didn’t feel with other people.  Probably a mirror neuron problem.  But this?  This hurt.  

He didn't want to do this.  

His tablet beeped.  

Their parents hadn’t trusted Caesar not to play pranks on his little brother, but they did trust him to look after Rex’s wellbeing in an emergency.  An emergency like a significantly elevated body temperature and a huge hole in his body.  

The popup now read, ‘access granted.’

The first thing Caesar did was make a new back door.  He was confident that this one, the one he used to get in just now, would be patched within a week.  Probably some limit on access-requests-per-minute, even for admins.  

Rex’s code was a mess.  Six years of unregulated self-modification would do that.  Few of the new programs were instantly understandable, even to Caesar.  Builds, wifi hacking tools, a series of ‘handshakes’ for various systems, dormant EVO-originating code, probably copied from people and animals he’d cured, active EVO code, from the same, a rather ingenious fix for a problem they’d never solved, back in the nanite project days.  But buried underneath all that was the original code for Rex’s nanites.  Even the Omega-1.  

He brought up the set of programs they’d written after the first time Rex had forgotten everything.  It was just a little something to help him recognize them, trust them, in case it happened again.  It was why it had been so easy to convince Rex to come with him, when they had met again.  

But family wasn’t the only thing on the list anymore.  Dr. Holiday, Six, Noah, and even Bobo were there, primarily identified through their nanite loci, rather than the facial, vocal, and code recognition that identified the Salazars.  Although, now that he looked, he could see that Rex had appended Caesar’s nanite locus to his ID data.  

He went to the part of the code that dictated how much and how the nanites could influence Rex’s thoughts about a given person, and changed a few variables and permissions.  He went back to the main list, added in Black Knight, and generated variables for her, too.  

There.  Rex was controlled.  Not, perhaps, the same way all the other EVOs were, but with the values Caesar had just assigned, saying ‘no’ to him or Black Knight would be given roughly the same avoidance priority as self harm, and just being around them should feel vaguely pleasant.  

Rex made a tiny noise of protest, but judging by how glazed over his eyes were, and how clammy his skin looked, Caesar doubted he was really aware of what Caesar had just done.  He would be, though.  

Caesar went back to the main list one more time, and told Rex’s nanites that Rafael and Violeta Salazar were dead.  The effect of this was immediate and far more dramatic.  Rex started sobbing.  

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”  He really was.  But this was the fastest way to get to the other thing he wanted.  The consciousness partition.  Without their parents, Caesar was now recognized as having the highest level of admin access.  

He… hesitated before he deleted it.  There were a vast number of reasons it existed.  The primary one being to keep ten-year-old Rex from accidentally deleting his liver, but also because the nanite project’s… well, Caesar’s… track record with AIs was not good, and even if this was more of an integrated intelligence, than an artificial one…

But Rex needed this.  For that matter, if Caesar’s original plan had worked, and Rex had escaped, and he got Providence to restart the project, and, and, and…  Eventually, the partition would have been removed anyway, was the point.  

He hit the button and moved on.  Medical options.  He brought up a list of prearranged medically-related voice commands - it was short, for emergency use only, in case Rex lost control of his nanites while he was ill.  He interdicted Rex’s builds, put them behind a voice authorization from a ‘person of trust’ and he desperately hoped Rex would figure out that particular loophole.  He told the nanites to take over Rex’s breathing reflex for the moment, because the way he was currently breathing had to be cutting him up on Black Knight’s sword.  He–

“That’s been fifteen minutes, Dr. Salazar.”

“Rex,” said Caesar, clearly, “go to sleep.”

Rex’s eyes fluttered closed.  

“There you go!” said Caesar, a horrible approximation of a smile on his face.  “All under control!”

"Dr. Donevsky," said Black Knight. 

Caesar flinched as the doctor approached from the side of the room.  He hadn't noticed anyone else come in.  

“It won’t be the same as with the other EVOs, his base programming is too different,” said Caesar, now anxious as Donevsky checked Rex’s pulse and reflexes.  “You won’t be able to– To puppet him around.  There are only a few voice commands he has to follow, but–”

Black Knight raised an eyebrow.  “That doesn’t sound like under control.”

“I’ve made him trust us,” said Caesar.  “Even more than he trusts Holiday or Six.  I’ve made it– You are familiar with Pavlov’s experiments with dogs, aren’t you?”  It wasn’t quite what was going on, but, honestly, he didn’t want to explain it to Black Knight.  

“He’s really asleep, ma’am,” said Donevsky, stepping back.  

“Hm,” said Black Knight.  She withdrew her builds.  “How long does this last for?”

“Eight hours,” said Caesar.  “That’s the recommended amount, after all!”

“Interesting.  We’ll give this a trial run.”

Other medical staff, who had been standing at the periphery of the room, came forward.  They heaved Rex up onto a gurney and started taking more measurements and readings.  Rex stayed entirely limp throughout, like a rag doll.  The doctors conferred over their results for a moment, then started to wheel him out of the room.  Caesar began to follow.  

Black Knight’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.  

“I think we have some things to discuss, before you join your brother,” she said.  

.

It wasn’t as if Rex had never been stabbed before.  He had.  Mostly by Van Kleiss and his stupid, stabby, sucky fingers.  It sucked, but he could deal with it.  Maybe with some complaining and a bit of encouragement from Dr. Holiday or Six, or some well-timed snark from Bobo, but he could deal with it.  

On the other hand, the stuff that stabbed him usually wasn’t this big and usually didn’t stay stabbed in him for this long.  Benefit of having the most awesome nanites on the planet was that he could safely ignore the whole ‘don’t remove the thing stabbing you or else you might bleed out’ thing…  Which he totally hadn’t discovered by ignoring Holiday when she said ‘don’t remove the thing stabbing you or else you might bleed out.’  Good times.  

What wasn’t a good time?  The fact that the literal backstabbing he was dealing with had come after a metaphorical backstabbing.  

(He was pretty sure that when people said siblings were a pain, they didn’t mean like this.)

The whole ‘tied up with a dozen guns pointed at him’ thing was bad, also.  But it was kind of…  Expectedly bad?  Like, it wasn’t anything too out of the ordinary for his life, except for the when and where of it.  But Caesar trying to mind control him?  That was just…   

Well.  It sucked.  What else was he supposed to say?  He didn’t know what to say, which was, maybe, why he wasn’t saying anything while Black Knight was giving Caesar some kind of psycho speech about why he needed to be controlled.  

He didn’t know why she was bothering with that, honestly.  Caesar had already decided to control him.  With that stupidly easy to break collar… that Caesar had to know wouldn’t work on him.

Ughhhhh sometimes he hated being the kind of person who gave others the benefit of the doubt.  

He looked up and glared at Caesar, hard enough to hide any trace of hope.  Not that he really kept a lot of hope as Caesar’s expression went from ‘blank’ to ‘resigned.’  

A bunch of words that Dr. Holiday thought he didn’t know went through his brain so fast they sounded like static.  Caesar was a weirdo and a space case most of the time, but he also knew Rex, and his nanites, better than anyone else.  Caesar had gotten him to build that freaky containment machine on remote control, sans collar.  Caesar could screw him over so freaking much.  

“Dr. Salazar, your decision.  You can stop stalling.  We neutralized the robot monkey, and even all the Numbers working together couldn’t break into this facility fast enough to keep me and my pawns from terminating this EVO.”

Robot monkey?  Did that mean Bobo wasn’t under control?  And he hated it when people talked over him like he was some kind of object.  “He-ahhhh!” 

Black Knight must have moved her sword by, like, a foot, because Rex’s entire arm and back lit up like they were on fire.  In the back of his mind there was something with the general shape and texture of the few times his nanites had talked to him directly.  Not that any information got through to Rex.  It was probably just them trying to tell him how stabbed he was, so no biggie.  He could figure that out on his own.  He had this whole biological system called pain and more pain, oh, and get this, yet more pain, to help him figure it out!  Wasn’t that wonderful?

“Alright, alright!” said Caesar.  “I’ll do it!  I’ll just.  This isn’t something I can do immediately.  I told you Rex’s nanites were different.”

Yeah, no kidding.  He was sure Providence’s new evil overlord knew nothing about that at all.  It wasn’t like Providence hadn’t been studying them since Rex first got here.  

Caesar strode across the room and out of Rex’s immediate line of sight.  His attempt to shift his position resulted in a heel being dug into his spine, the whip tightening to the point of crushing the air out of his lungs, and the sword being twisted so viciously his vision whited out for a second.  

“....could easily be done to Rex could easily be done to you.”  

Okay, maybe more than a second.

“Careful.  Dr. Salazar.”

Rex blinked hard, still trying to follow what was going on around him.  It could be done to Black Knight, too?  All of this?  The mind control thing?  Something else?

“I’ve got to start somewhere, right?”

“Let him by,” said Black Knight in an almost magnanimous tone.  The agents between Caesar and Rex parted.  

“Okay, mijo,” said Caesar, with obvious false cheer, “let’s get started.”

Rex tried to catch Caesar’s eyes.  If Caesar didn't want to do this, maybe Rex could convince him not to.  Sure, he wasn’t at the point of things where he’d rather die than be mind controlled - he wasn’t that noble, and he remembered the follow-up interviews from the Meechum incident - but seriously injured?  Imprisoned?  Those both sounded way better.  

“Don’t do thi–”

Black Knight wrenched her sword to one side, and Rex’s argument was lost to agony.  For a split second, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and when he could the collar was there.  He sent his nanites against it, first disabling the code that let it send messages to his nanites, then telling it to disassemble stuff.  

Not for the first time, Rex wondered why people didn’t make things more mechanical and less electronic.  If there wasn’t an electronic disassembly command, it would be way harder for him to do stuff like this.  

He wasn’t going to ask anyone that, though.  His life was hard enough as it was.  Case in point, his current situation (which was bad).

“Don’t–” said Caesar.  “Don’t.  There’s a reason I brought more than one, yes?”

What, was that some kind of threat?  Rex had heard better.  

“You have fifteen minutes.  My arm is getting tired.”

… or maybe he was talking to someone else.  Again.  

“Please, Rex, just… Let it happen.”

Like heck.  If Caesar and Black Knight were going to do this to him, he was going to make them work for it.  In the spirit of that - and not because he was scared - he tried to pull away when Caesar picked up the next collar and put it on.  Not that it did much good.  But it didn’t do Caesar any good, either, so there.  Ha.  

It had been harder, this time, though.  Not a lot harder, but enough to make him apprehensive.  

He really hoped Black Knight was wrong about that backup.  He didn’t think he’d be able to get out of this on his own, and he was liking his chances of holding out against mind control long term less and less.  

He broke the next collar, too.  That one had been hard, and Rex was starting to feel tired.  More tired.  His nanites were starting to protest being diverted from the giant gaping hole in his shoulder.  

But Caesar already had the next collar around Rex’s neck.  Rex told his nanites to take it apart, too, but… they were… busy?  He pushed through, overriding whatever was occupying them, and the collar fell off.  

Caesar put the next one on.  

For a second, Rex zoned out like he had when Caesar had been sending the Omega-1 instructions.  When he came back to himself, he felt hot.  

Well, he always felt hot.  He was hot.  Blisteringly good looking, even.  But he was physically hot right now.  Fever-level hot.  Best he could compare it to was when his nanites had been working overtime trying to counteract the chupacabra poison.  Except there was no chupacabra poison this time.  Probably.  What was Caesar doing to him? 

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on getting his nanites back under control.  There was a feeling like someone knocking, knocking, knocking on the back of his mind until the sound turned to jackhammer black noise.  It hurt, and he was rapidly approaching the temperatures where it was hard for him to think.  His skin felt slick and sticky, and he started to pant, even as the motion made Black Knight’s sword saw back and forth inside him.  

And then the building pressure against him disappeared all at once.  He didn’t exactly relax, but he did go limp, unable to maintain the state of tension from before.  He was going to pass out, soon, he could tell.  He hated passing out.  

With difficulty, he opened his eyes to glare blearily at Caesar.  He was hunched over his tablet, tapping away at the screen.  Traitor.  Backstabber.  Jerk.  It wasn’t as if Rex hadn’t been backstabbed by, like, everyone, except for Holiday, Bobo (except for really minor things), and Six (there had been that time with the Numbers, and the other thing with the memory loss, but, really, that was fine, water under the bridge and all), but family was supposed to be different.  You were supposed to be able to trust family.  Family wasn’t supposed to try to mind control you for creepy middle-aged women, which is why Rex had to trust that Caesar was doing this for a very good reason.  

Rex blinked slowly.  There was something wrong with that train of thought.  The people you…  Caesar wouldn’t mind control him just because.  Caesar had betrayed him– But Caesar wouldn’t do that.  Had Rex misunderstood something?  Somewhere?  Was he not working for Black Knight?  Except, Black Knight was a good person.  He knew that.  He trusted her.  Good people didn’t just mind control people for no reason.  Or stab people for no reason.  So, there had to be a reason.  But it was so hard to think of one.  

… Had he hurt someone?

A weak whine built in the back of his throat.  He didn’t remember hurting… But maybe he did?  He was so angry about the control collars, but Black Knight and Caesar said they were good, so…?  His thoughts felt so sticky and slow.  What had he been thinking about before?  Caesar and Black Knight had… They had been…?

He was hit with a wave of grief absolutely unlike anything he had ever experienced before.  Grief, like something he’d always had, something he’d held so close he couldn’t even see it, being ripped away from him without warning.  A piece of his world, just gone, and he didn’t even know what it was, just that he wanted it back, please, please, please.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Rex was sorry, too.  He didn’t know what he had done, but he wanted this to stop.  

And then, something in the back of Rex’s mind opened up, and his thoughts stopped being anything like coherent.  He watched, more or less passively, as Caesar turned on emergency medical controls, put his builds on lock, and made the nanites actively regulate his breathing.  Which actually did help, a little.  Rex may have been hyperventilating.  

Black Knight and Caesar started talking, but Rex couldn’t follow anything they were saying at all.  It was okay for him to just… zone out a bit, right?  He could… obviously, they could take care of things…

“Rex,” said Caesar, dragging Rex’s attention back into the real world, if only for a moment, “go to sleep.”

.

To be continued. :)

#generator rex #fic #checkerboard fic

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: March 15/24

It's already the Ides of March! Where is time going?!?! BAH Anyway, if you're not able to make the annual Caesaring, why not check out these fantastic fics recently added to my Marked for Later list?? Enjoy!

RECENT MFLs

Pretty Paper by stopthat (G, 2,581 w., 2 Ch. || Post-TRF, Reunions, POV Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Friends to Lovers, Christmas/New Year's, Hugs, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, First Kiss, Cuddling / Snuggling, Conversations) – It isn't even Christmas. “Come home with me.” For good, he means, but he does not say it.

Body Of Years by LipstickDaddy (T, 3,815+ w., 3/? Ch. || WiP || TEH Fix It, Violence, Blood and Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mutual Pining, Angst with Happy Ending) – Sherlock has been dead for two years, fighting to stay alive each day to see John again. So, when he comes back to London and sees John about to close the door on their life together, he reaches a breaking point.

An Erotic Sail by justacookieofacumberbatch (E, 4,533 w., 2 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || Age Difference, Sugar Daddy John, Yacht Daddy John, Praise Kink, Porn Without Plot, Boat Sex) – Sherlock, fresh off a Semester at Sea ship in Crete, sees a gorgeous older man, and I'm sure you can guess what happens next.

All Our Gifts At Once, or, the Young Sea-man by tiltedsyllogism (T, 48,119 w., 9 Ch. || Victorian Little Mermaid AU || Sacrifice, Pining, Angst, Realistic Fairy Tale, Bittersweet, Botany, Gardens) – John Watson, storyteller and shipwright's son, walks way from his entire life in Portsmouth to follow the mysterious Sherlock Holmes to London.

Damnatio Memoriae by lovetincture (E, 55,098 w., 20 Ch. || Psychopathology, Sociopathy, Sadism) – Sherlock Holmes is a sociopath and a sadist, and he’s in love with John Watson. He also wants to torture him. John is surprisingly okay with this, with one caveat: He doesn’t want to remember any of it. A loving, healthy relationship, with the occasional torture session courtesy of dubiously legal pharmaceuticals. It’s all fine. Or, it would be fine, if an old enemy didn't have designs of his own on the both of them. Did it really happen if you don’t remember? Part 1 of Damnatio Memoriae

#five fics friday #my fic recs #johnlock fic recs

[fellow-travelers-fic-recs]

Fellow Travelers Fic Recs | Current WIPs: April 2024

Active WIPs with most recent updates posted in the past month featuring awkward hospital room conversations, a hospital room meet-cranky, and hospital whump... I'm sensing a theme, here. More fake-ish dating, Mama Fuller wisdom, Professor Hawk, a couple road trips, some time travel and a few modern AU's. There really is something for everyone!

Happy reading!

✨ Be sure to show the authors some love and appreciation with kudos and comments on the fics you enjoyed!

🌺 Remember Our Love - Remember Me by Larnee💠[G, 638] Tim Laughlin - the love of Hawkins life is gone. Hawk struggles to move forward until someone unexpected shows up at his doorstep. Tim has never left Hawk, not now, not ever.

🌼 Chances Are by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove [G, 3K] After a family Thanksgiving, Estelle and Hawk talk. Then she meets Tim.

🌺 I Know I’ve Never Lived Before by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove [G, 3K] Wherein Hawk completely accidentally and through no fault of his own intentionally ends up dating the man he's sleeping with.

🌼 Within The Heart of Me by drabbleswabbles💠 [NR, 3K] Lucy goes to the hospital to talk to Tim. When she arrives, Hawk is already there.

Otherwise known as, a prompt fill that wanders a bit off the mark, but is close enough in spirit to give credit where credit is due as far as inspiration goes.

🌺 Darkness Before the Dawn by @beyondxmeasure | Cyantific [NR, 350] It’s June 1944, following the US offensive against the German-led Caesar line that tore through a small squad of the 141st Regiment, killing two men and wounding others, along with Sergeant Hawkins Fuller. Following the blast of the Nazi’s K5 railway gun, he underwent surgery to repair sustained shrapnel damage and is now recovering in the Army’s 32nd Evac Hospital. In the bed next to him lies Corporal Marcus Gaines from the 85th Infantry Division, also wounded in action.

Or, the story of how Hawk and Marcus met.

🌼 A Disaster Beyond Measure by drabbleswabbles💠 [NR, 23K] Hawkins Fuller is a campaign manager with a PR disaster on his hands. The solution involves pretending to date none other than Timothy Laughlin.

Featuring: unrealistic portrayals of the life and job of a campaign manager for the sake of the fake dating trope.

🌺 Who Are You (who am I?) by Anonymous [G, 2K] AU- Hawk fails his security clearance after Tim goes to the army and Senator Smith locks him in a mental hospital where he is lobotomised

Or, Tim receives a letter from Mary saying Hawk needs him.

🌼Too old to play (and too young to mess around) by @bejeweledmp3 | ninav [M, 61K] Kimberly Fuller goes on a two-week vacation to San Francisco, in which she: drinks excessive amounts of tea, gets betrayed, cries more than she should, eats donuts, and seeks out truth with the help of a man she only knows from a presentation card; not necessarily in that order.

But mostly, she finds her father in every least expected place. And learns to make her peace with what that means.

🌺Sands of Time (Turn Backwards) by @brouill3r | brouiller [NR, 22K] 1987 Hawkins Fuller is full of regrets for the life he's lived, though Tim once told him he regrets nothing. Hawk so wishes he could say the same.

In the still night air of a hotel room, clutching a cracked paperweight to his chest like it's carved of the finest gold, Hawk gets his wish.

Or, a time-travel fix-it fic that nobody asked for.

🌼 Is it over now? by @satelarry | satelarry [M, 43K] Seeing the love of your life walk away without being able to tell him that you love him has to be one of the worst situations a person can go through. But Hawk decided to fulfill Tim's request, knowing it will be the last. What happens when he wakes up, 18 years before, with the knowledge of what's going to happen if he makes the same decisions? Does the ending always stay the same?

Or, the Time Travel AU in which the only thing ruining Hawk's plan is Tim's stubbornness.

🌺 Again, only better by @madsmeetsmisha | madsmeetsmisha [M, 17K] Hawk had no idea what was really going on here. All he knew was that he was back in 1954 and a completely distraught Tim was standing outside his door. And he also knew that he certainly wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

🌼 🪴His great consuming lovage* 🪴 by @carnivalrow | nightfall_in_winter [T, 2K] Tim's potted plant has a story to tell...

🌺 We'll be on the road like Jack Kerouac by @jesterlesbian | captainquint [M, 4K] He tried to think of what Tim would do or say. The man who had only spoken to his son a handful of times over one weekend in 1968, but had seemed to understand him far better than Hawk ever had.

The business card felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket.

An idea burst to life in Hawk’s mind. This was an emergency if he’d ever seen one.

“What would you say to coming with me to San Francisco?”

Or, Hawk and Jackson go on a cross-country road trip to San Francisco.

🌼 Educate Me by @fullerthanskippy | fullerthanskippy [E, 13K]  A Hawk x Tim AU in which the timelines jump from 2012-2014 to present day 2024. When present day Tim receives an invitation to the 10-year reunion of his Georgetown graduating class, he is filled with both hope and dread that he will run into one particular professor.

One man who was the through-line of his two years in grad school. The man who taught him more than he could have ever learned in the classroom.

When Tim is re-acquainted with Professor Hawkins Fuller, he immediately flashes back to 12 years prior, when he first encountered the man that he had no idea would be the greatest love and loss of his life.

Or, tons of garbage filthy smut sprinkled in between pining, angst, and fluff. Contains explicit material including but not limited to the likes of top!hawk, bottom!tim, top!tim, bottom!hawk, dom!hawk, sub!tim, bratty!tim, and much, much more. Enjoy!

🌺 I Sing the Body Electric by telescape8💠 [M, 28K] Modern AU. It all starts on Election Night 2016. Tim falls hard. Hawk falls harder.

💠Authors: if your tumblr (or other socials) isn’t linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it! Or, if you’re linked already and would prefer not to be, please contact me to remove it.

#works in progress #fellow travelers fic recs #ftficrecs #fellow travelers fics #ftfics wips #ftfics apr24 #fellow travelers

[hangingoffence]

:D post-ultimate kars arc whump stuff with suzie pov bc why not. again im not a writer i just wanted to put this thought into words

 ☆★☆

“The wrecked hotel.”

Suzie was startled at Joseph’s voice. He had not said a single word after waking up from the coma. He’d just been staring out the window to the streets of Venice, lost in his own thoughts. Suzie was starting to get worried he’d lost his ability to speak completely.

“What hotel?” Suzie asked. Eager to get Jojo to speak more. His voice was raspy.

“The one.” A silence. Suzie tried to think. She didn’t know half of the stuff that happened to Jojo. All she knew was that Jojo, Caesar and Lisa Lisa left after the stone and a week later a bunch of fishermen carried Jojo’s battered body to Suzie’s family home. “Where Caesar is.” 

Another silence. “What do you mean Jojo?” 

“The hotel in Switzerland. Where Caesar is.” Suzie could see Joseph’s body tense. His jaw tightened and he proceeded to try and get up. “Please lay down Jojo! You’re nowhere near healthy.” Suzie’s small hands could barely even hold Joseph in place but he still lays back down to the bed with a sigh. “I need to…”

“Tell me Jojo. What happened? Where’s Caesar?” Suzie took Joseph’s hand. It was wrapped in bandages and Jojo could barely move his fingers in them. But Suzie gently stroked his hand. 

Joseph didn’t speak that day again. 

 ☆★☆

“Jojo! Here’s breakfast. I got you some bacon and toast. Hope it’s more to your taste.” Suzie set the tray on the bedside table before helping Joseph to sit up. “It smells very good, don’t you think?” She gave a small smile to Joseph and handed him the food. He was already able to eat on his own without Suzie having to help. His injuries getting better day after day. 

“How are you feeling today, Jojo? Any pain or discomfort? Do you need any extra pillows?” Suzie was almost used to this one-way conversation. The Jojo she knew from Air Supplena Island was loud and extravagant. He would always have a joke ready. But now he just kept quiet. He hadn’t even tried to flirt with her. 

“Thank you, Suzie…” It was quiet, but she still caught it. Jojo didn’t meet her eyes but she still smiled. Moving a stray brown hair behind his ear.

 ☆★☆

The next morning when Suzie entered Joseph’s room she was greeted with a totally different sight. Joseph was already sitting and playing with the bandages. As soon as the door opened, his gaze fell upon Suzie and he smiled. The same smile he always had on. Wide and with teeth. “There you are, Suzie! I missed you already.” 

There he is. “Oh, seems like you’ve back to being yourself.” She gave the tray to Joseph, who flashed her another smile. 

Suzie sat down as Joseph dug into his breakfast. “Now tell me Suzie, how long I’ve been laying here in these itchy bandages?” 

“Well let’s see.” Suzie gave an act of thinking it hard. Even if she had been counting the days religiously. “The fishermen said they found you on the 29th and I got a hold of you on the 30th. Then you laid unconscious for a week while I took care of your various injuries and that hand,” Joseph cringed at that. “And then you finally woke up four days ago. So it’s been 13 days.” Suzie nodded to herself. 

Joseph hummed and bit into the bread. “Does Lisa Lisa and the others know where I am?” 

“I did try send a telegram to Air Supplena but I got no answer. I have no idea where else to ask.” 

Joseph thought a moment. Then he looked around the room. “Do you have a piece of paper I could write on?” Suzie quickly stood up and fished a pen and paper from the room's cabinet and handed them to Jojo. Watching as he struggled a little to write with all the bandages. 

When he was done, he handed the paper to Suzie. “That’s the telegram number for Granny Erina in the States. She’ll get in contact with Speedwagon and Lisa Lisa.” Suzie nodded and folded the paper and hid it in her apron pocket. 

Joseph relaxed into the headboard of the bed. Looking outside again. Noe eating in much slower pace. Suzie was about to stand up and leave to fax the message before the curiosity in her decided against it. She stayed seated and asked; “Do you remember what happened? Before being found in the Adriatic Sea?” Jojo’s gaze moved to her in a mild surprise. She had been in complete darkness this whole time and it had been nagging her. She needed to ask.

“Oh, well I killed the Pillar men of course.” Jojo announced proudly. Smiling widely and shooting a confident gaze at Suzie. “Although I was sure I’d perish with them. Kars got his hands on the stone and bloody almost killed me. He took my hand with him when I sent him flying to the sky. Bastard’s dead for good now.” 

“How did you manage that? Didn’t the stone make him all-powerful?” 

Joseph chuckled. “Oh yeah, it did. He got wings and all and could freely stand in the sun! It was horrid.” Joseph told her about the man named Stroheim and a plane crash that ended up leaving Joseph facing Kars alone on a volcanic island. Suzie had never heard a story so ridiculous and if it wasn’t Joseph, she wouldn’t have believed it. Joseph laughed at the matter and told how pissed Kars had been the final moments before flying off to space. Suzie chuckled at it too. But someone was missing. 

“What about Caesar?” Joseph froze. A fork halfway to his mouth. His jaw tightened the same way it did four days ago. “You said something about a hotel in Switzerland.”

“I did?” Joseph asked with a nervous smirk. Suzie nodded. 

“You said Ceasar is there. I tried to look up the hotel where you were headed when you left but I could not find any mention of Caesar.”

“Because he isn’t in St-Moritz.” Joseph interrupted Suzie, gaze now downwards and brows furrowed. “He’s in an old wrecked hotel near that same place.”

Suzie tried to make sense of it. What was Caesar doing in an old hotel? Abandoned one presumably. “Jojo, I don’t understand. Is Caesar alright?”

“When we were tracking down Kars and Wammu’s whereabouts, we figured they were hiding in the old hotel and waiting for the sunset to arrive. We had already encountered Kars when he tried to get the stone from us. Caesar thought it would be a good idea to ambush them during the day. But the bastard didn’t see the clear trap he wanted to march into.” Joseph’s fists tightened around the utensils. “I told him that it was a bad idea but like always, he wouldn’t listen!” A small silence filled the room as Suzie waited for Jojo to continue. He wouldn’t even look in her direction.

“Messina went after him. That stupid bastard walked alone to the most obvious trap I’ve ever seen. He- That- Arrgh!!” In a burst of yellow sparks, the fork in his hand had flown across the room and impaled the wall. Suzie was set speechless. 

“Lisa Lisa told me about Caesar’s past. His family and his father. About the bastard’s reason for revenge.” Joseph relaxed a bit. Settling back against the bed headboard. “ But still- hmph- so stupid…” Suzie has never seen Joseph like this. Stumbling over his words like he didn’t know what to say. “Jojo.” She took his hand to hers; “What happened to Caesar?” Joseph looked up with tears in his eyes. 

 ☆★☆

Suzie remembers the day she saw Caesar for the first time. She had been living with Lisa Lisa for a while now. Attending to her need and making a good living out of it. She was happy with her. She witnessed Hamon first-hand as Lisa trained with Loggs and Messina. It was magical. 

The particular day was Friday. Lisa Lisa had visited Rome, which left Suzie alone to take care of the home. When she arrived, Lisa Lisa had a boy with him. Not more than 16 years old. He had ragged clothes, messy blond hair and two pink marks on his cheeks.He looked like he hadn’t showered in months. But what she remembered most clearly was the razor-sharp glare on his face. Like he was ready to pounce on anyone who dared to venture too close.

Lisa Lisa had him shower and change clothes. He was supposed to eat with them, but he didn’t show up. Locking himself to his room. 

Lisa Lisa had visited him that evening. Then the next day, it fell upon Suzie to bring him food to his room. 

She always smiled at him when she set his food down. At first, he only gave her a glance. His bright blue eyes had a deep shadow in them, but they weren’t threatening anymore.

Through the food, she was able to break his walls. They started talking when Caesar ate. At first, it was just Suzie. She talked about what she had done that day. What she was planning to cook for tomorrow. Then Caesar started to talk too. Asking questions and having a more active part in the conversation. Sometimes shooting a few flirty lines, which always made her chuckle. Though it never went anywhere. 

After that, she started hearing about Caesar’s life. She heard his anger and hate. His sadness and regrets. About his father and siblings. About his life as a criminal in the dark streets of Rome. They connected deeply during that time. And then, Caesar started to show up to dinner. 

 ☆★☆

“Caesar…” Suzie saw the grief in Joseph’s eyes. She knew. “Caesar…” Joseph squeezed her hand in his. She cried then. Joseph cried too. They held each other’s hands in a white-knuckle squeeze in an act of reassurance. It didn’t work.

#still hard for me to believe that joseph healed in two week but thats hamon for you ig #i was thinking of stretching it to two months but we'll see #joseph joestar #suzie q #caesar zeppeli #joseq #caejose #kinda #battle tendency #jjba #mytext

[starry-blue-echoes]

honor bound idea I thought of in math class because Terminal Brainrot-

Caesar/Lisa Lisa institute a 'no eating people whilst with us' rule for Wham, which, fair. Pillarmen can go quite a long time between meals with zero consequence.

Except, he was already at the tail end of that timespan before he left, and he was rushing to get there and warn Joseph so he didn't eat on the way, and healing after the fight with Kars burned through most of his reserves, and the long hibernation previously meant his reserves of energy were unusually low to begin with.

Still, Wham is extremely disciplined and exceptionally healthy and strong. His healing factor won't work as well, that's all, which is an acceptable price to pay for this alliance.

Except he doesn't tell anyone about this

and then, having his healing severely handicapped without anyone being aware is a great setup for all sorts of other whump.

mostly thinking someone deals out a hit that should've been trivial (from other hamon warriors during training) or at worst painful but not serious (from ACDC during the fight, or Kars later on) except it's actually way more dangerous with his weakened healing factor.

y e s s s s S S S S S S S S S S S

Wammu just. Not even mentioning the possible issues the No Eating Rule could bring up. After all, he sees it as completely fair and understandable given the circumstances.

Eventually once the issue is explained and some trust has been gained they’ll probably start looking into possible alternatives, like some larger livestock and such

#sorry I don’t have much to add what you already gave was AMAZING #honor bound #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #battle tendency #jjba part 2 #jjba wamuu #wamuu #jjba caesar #caesar zeppeli #jjba lisa lisa #lisa lisa #jjba joseph #joseph joestar #jjba kars #kars #sb answers #dragoninthelabratory

[goth-automaton]

🎶 On the 29th day of Febuwhump fic author gave to me 🎶

Arcade's bad ending (but worse)!

Day XXIX: Not Allowed to Die (462 words) by Necrotizing_Fasciitis Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fallout: New Vegas Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Arcade Gannon, Caesar | Edward Sallow, mentioned Courier Six Additional Tags: Heavy Angst, Whump, Unsuccessful Suicide, Blood, Gore, Pain, Febuwhump 2024, Legion-Aligned Courier, Suicide Attempt Series: Part 29 of Necrotizing Febuwhump 2024 Summary:

Arcade wakes up and, much to his horror, discovers he's still alive.

#febuwhump 2024 #fallout fanfic #whump #my fic #fic writing

[emcscared-whumps]

WiJ 2023 - 01: Introduce Yourself

WiJ 2023 Navigation Post

(I'll put my favourite tropes under the cut because this post is getting a bit long, oops lol)

Re-Introduction

I've been in the Tumblr whump community for a couple of years now, but hello and welcome to everyone both old and new to my blog! I'm emc, and I'm an Australian writer and artist specialising in the bloodthirsty subject matter we all love here on whumpblr! I mostly reblog at this stage, but I love to participate in community events, and have plenty in the works :)

I create original whump works. I'm only in one fandom, Danny Phantom, so I will occasionally reblog stuff from there.

Project Updates!

I'm completely, totally obsessed by one singular whumpee... so everything I work on centers around him... lol

Anyways, so, it turns out that SP multiplied...

Shifting Phases - This is gonna be a loooooong fic lol, but! I'm making good progress, and I've managed to stay inspired and motivated for +6 years, so you can count on it getting finished, no matter how long it takes :)

10 of 59 chapters are drafted, one of which is pending review,

8 of the remaining 50 chapters are in progress,

The word-count as of writing this post is 23.5k.

I'm sure a few of you have followed for this fic/pieces of the boi, and I think about that constantly especially since it's still a major wip lol ^-^' Not worry, I will not rush uwu

I'll link the masterpost of it though because I keep it updated with my progress, and also any good snippets I write :)

Full Moon Waning - Because I'm horrible and have so many thoughts all the time, I've actually started planning this; the sequel to Shifting Phases! I think I have some cool whump ideas, and it provides another chance to explore the worldbuilding and character backstories, so I think it has a lot to offer and will be fun to write :)

Plotting; jotting down vague ideas and arranging them in a semi-coherent order.

Eclipse Descending (AU) - Oh this one is incredibly fun and fucked up, and somehow manages to be SO much darker in which Pete falls down a terrible path and becomes a hunter. It goes about as well as you'd expect lol. I explained the premise to a friend and she wondered, since it was so compelling, why it wasn't canon, and man, that's a fun thing to hear. It also means it's gonna be an absolute behemoth...

Plotting and detailing scenes simultaneously.

Caesar Salad (AU) - Remember how I said I wanted to stab my whumpee during the Ides of March? Guess which concept got WAY out of hand XD It will be a much shorter fic, but it's still a major project. It's an alternate secret reveal, so, it's an AU.

Detailing the scenes while trying desperately to come up with a resolution ^-^'

Anything Else? - Yep! I have a few other little scene/whump ideas that I'll eventually write out, but for now, I just keep them stored in a little au/idea doc. I'm still also working slowly on my BTHB card, and also the gift and several treats for the exchange I mentioned earlier, but I shan't be spoiling those :)

Favourite Tropes

Those of you who've been around me/know me will find that I am indeed very consistent XD Some of my favourite tropes include:

Bad caretaker/s

Collapse

Compromised mobility

Dehumanisation and animalisation

Domestic abuse

Emotional whump

Environmental whump

Hyper/hypothermia

Long-term injuries and scars

Near-death of the whumpee

Nightmares/Night terrors

Nonhuman whumpees (usually vampires, demons... and especially mer)

Panic attacks

PTSD

Restraints, especially creative ones

Secret angst-- whumpee having to keep their species/identity secret for their personal safety, and because they fear they'll be rejected by the ones they love most

Severe sickness

Species-specific whump

Starvation

Transformation whump

... and so many more...! Also, caretakers and whumpers are not necessary for me to enjoy the whump ^-^

#wij23day1 #whumpmasinjuly2023 #whumpmas in july #wij #whumpblr #whump community #whump intro #whump reintro #whump writer #whump artist #omfg how do i count #i can't fucking count i either made an error on chapter count here or on the masterpost shit shit shit lmao #i can count it's just whether i count them the same way lol

[peachy-panic]

WHUMP WEDNESDAYS: Week 5

A Prayer Before Dawn & Carbonara w/kale Caesars

The food - busting.

The movie - a bust.

We’ve been heavy on the prison & dog themed movies lately. Gotta shake it up for week 6.

@hold-him-down

#whump Wednesday #whump Wednesdays #whump #whump movies

[lady-wallace]

Whumptober Day 2: JJBA

Some Part 2 Caesar whump today!

Also Find me on: Instagram or Ko-fi

~~~~~~~

Day 2: Talking is Overrated

Prompts Used: garrotte | choking

Fandom: JJBA Part 2

Character: Caesar

~~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

Read on FF.net

~~~~~

Caesar checked his watch as he walked along a back street from the shop he had been at previously. It was almost time to meet up with Joseph to head back to Air Supplena but he was sure the insufferable Brit would be late.

He shifted the bags of supplies he was carrying and glanced up at the sky. It was already getting close to sundown and he had hoped to be back on the island by then. But here he was, at the agreed upon spot, and Joseph was nowhere to be seen.

That was why, when he heard footsteps behind him, he didn't think anything of it. He was getting ready to chew Joseph out.

Until he caught something glint in the darkness out of the corner of his eye and slide around his neck.

With the instincts of a warrior and those honed from a life on the streets, Caesar instantly dropped the bags and was able to get his hand up between the thin wire and the soft flesh of his throat before the garotte tightened. It cut through his glove and into the flesh of his palm instead, but Caesar was quick to form a layer of Hamon between the two, putting a buffer around the wire.

His assailant chuckled as he yanked Caesar backwards, further into the alley.

The Hamon user wasn't going to go that easily though. He gritted his teeth and used the garrote wire as a conductor to send Hamon surging back toward the man who held it.

A sharp cry sounded out and the wire was dropped, allowing Caesar to spin around and fall into a fighting position.

Seeing a familiar face.

His attacker glanced up, obviously recognizing him as well.

"Well, well, if it isn't Caesar Zeppeli," he said.

"Marzio," Caesar spat.

"Haven't seen you around for a while now," Marzio said. "Heard you had left the streets. Got yourself a fancy life."

Caesar straightened up. "I did. I'm not that man anymore."

"Oh yeah?" Marzio spat. "You think you're better than us then? After all the men you beat to death with your favorite wrench?"

"What do you want?" Caesar huffed, getting annoyed, hating to have to face unpleasant memories of a past life he had wanted to forget.

"I want recompense!" Marzio growled. "You were always one step ahead of me, got all the goods. Forced me to scrape my way to the top with a feeble crew. I'd be way better off now if you hadn't ruined my chances back in the day."

"Take what you want, I'm not stopping you now," Caesar said, turning to grab his bags again. "I left that life a long time ago."

As he turned, he realized that several rough-looking men had crept up behind him and more were appearing in the other end of the alley, making their way toward Marzio, closing Caesar in on both sides.

Caesar quickly calculated. There were a lot of them. Even with all his training, it would be hard for him to take them all out, and Marzio was not a man to be messed with.

Joseph really had chosen a fine day to be late.

Caesar knew he wasn't getting out of here without a fight, so he decided to make the first move. He threw the bags at one of the men and summoned his Hamon bubbles, throwing them out.

Confused, the men allowed the bubbles to hit them, shocked cries sounding out as they were thrown backwards. Caesar turned around as several of the other thugs rushed him, kicking out at one and throwing a Hamon-filled punch toward another.

A punishing kick slammed into Caesar's knee, staggering him, and a punch caught him in the jaw as he faltered. He managed to make several more Hamon bubbles, but another blow to the ribs threw his breathing off for a vital second.

This time, Caesar wasn't fast enough to get his hand up to make a barrier between his neck and the wire Marzio hurriedly wrapped around his neck again.

"Look at you," the thug sneered as Caesar clawed at the wire, desperately trying to keep it from cutting into his skin. "The great Caesar Zeppeli. Not so great now, are you? I'd be willing to say you've gone soft."

Caesar struggled for breath, trying to use his Hamon to fight back, but someone kicked him in the ribs again and Marzio hauled him back against his chest so he could get a better grip on the garrote.

Caesar gasped, clawing at the wire. He could feel darkness encroaching on his vision; his legs weakening. And as hard as he tried, he couldn't use Hamon because he couldn't get a breath in!

He slumped, a dead weight against Marzio, eyes rolling up into his head and fluttering closed. He couldn't believe, after everything, it was going to end like this.

"Hey!"

Something slammed into Marzio from the side, and the man cried out, dropping Caesar who collapsed to the ground, choking as he weakly reached up to grasp at the constricting wire around his throat.

He could hear shouts, muffled through his ringing ears, before feet pounded down the alley away from him.

"Caesar!"

Boots appeared in front of his blurry vision and he was rolled onto his back, his hands pushed away from his neck before more dexterous fingers pulled the wire from around his throat.

Caesar coughed and choked as his airway was finally free, wetness pricking his eyes from the pain.

"Easy, just breathe slowly."

Caesar finally recognized Joseph's voice.

"Who the hell were those guys, anyway? Friends of yours?"

Caesar groaned. "Sh-shut up…JoJo."

"Well that's not a very nice thing to say to the guy who saved you from getting your head cut off with piano wire."

Caesar pried his eyes open, glancing up to see Joseph's slightly indignant expression. Caesar weakly punched him in the knee. "You were late."

Joseph's indignation continued for only a fraction of a second before it changed to something more somber. "Sorry."

Caesar pushed himself upright, a hand around his throat. It would be bruised for a while, but thankfully it didn't seem like the wire had broken the skin.

"No…I should thank you," he croaked. "He would have killed me."

Joseph's face softened before he smirked. "Well, a thank you is good enough for me. Let's get going then, huh? Who was that guy anyway?"

Caesar groaned as Joseph helped him to his feet, offering him a shoulder to lean on.

"Just…someone from a past I would rather forget," Caesar said.

Joseph nodded as if he understood. "It's best to leave the past in the past, Ceasarino. It's better to look to the future."

Caesar glanced up at him from the corner of his eye. "What's this? Something that could actually be mistaken as wise coming from your mouth?"

"Shut up," Joseph said, elbowing him in the ribs, hitting a bruise. Caesar grunted and punched him back, harder. Joseph yelped indignantly.

Caesar smiled to himself. As much as he pretended to be annoyed by Joseph—and sometimes genuinely was—he was still glad to have him as a friend.

#whumptober2021 #no.2 #talking is overrated #garrotte #choking #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #fanfiction #jjba part 2 #battle tendency #caesar zeppeli #joseph joestar #caesar whump #Joseph to the rescue

[one-piece-aus]

Whumptober Day 2

Caesar x Reader

'How could someone's voice be this hypnotic?'

Caesar found himself asking this question every time heard your voice. It was soothing to his ears, making him want to melt into bliss each time heard the sound. He smiled like a fool when you spoke, and he hated it.

You were distracting him from his work. Caesar didn't want to be a snake charmed by the melody of your voice. He was supposed to be in charge here, he couldn't let a mere servant take control of him. So he devised a solution.

When you came to his lab one afternoon, with a few boxes he asked for, you began to greet him like always.

"Afternoon master, I got-" You cut off when you felt the oxygen in your lungs being taken away. You grasped your neck, choking with no air to breathe.

"Thank you, [Y/n] for bringing me those boxes that I asked for," Caesar thanked you, as if everything was this normal. He had his back to you so he couldn't see you struggling.

"Master..-" you tried to say to get his attention but felt your throat grow tighter and you were struggling to stay conscience.

"Now, now, [Y/n], I don't want to hear your voice anymore."

Your eyes widened, and tears pricked your eyes. You wanted to ask him why, but you knew it'd only upset him more if you did try.

"So from now on, you will no longer talk," Caesar told you, turning towards you with a stoic face. "If you make any attempt to, you'll lose the privilege to breathe. Do I make myself clear?"

His gas figure towered over you, watching your movements carefully. You nod your head slowly, still trying to stay awake. You were refreshed by the cool air soaring into your lungs and you let out a gasp.

"Good." Caesar smiled, please with your response. He set his attention back to his chemicals, waving his hand. "You're dismissed now."

You gave him one last glance, a sad one before you stride over to the door, exiting the room and closing it behind you. Shaking your head, you prevented yourself from being brought down. Caesar just didn't want to hear your voice, no big deal. Talking is overrated anyway.

Caesar made a big mistake, making you stop talking. Sure he didn't get distracted by your voice anymore, but the silence only enhanced your actions. With no words, you picked up quickly on how to communicate using expressions and gestures. It made you adorable, and Caesar felt his heart flutter every time you smiled at him.

No matter what, he was doomed to fall for you.

#whumptober #no. 2 #whump fic #whump writing #talking is overrated #choking #one piece #caesar clown #one piece caesar clown #caesar clown x reader #one piece caesar #one piece scenario #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #day 2 #no 2 #whumptober2021 #fandom