#[car crashing] [sirens blaring] [glass shattering] [explosion] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seehowsupplethespineis · 4 years

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Lift Home

(Here we have my first Good Omens fanfiction! Well, the first Good Omens fanfiction I’m posting; I’ve got plenty of WIPs for this fandom that I will one day share with the world. I wanted to cover all the things I’ve been wanting to write for this fandom in this one piece so expect lots of pining, bickering, and a car chase.)

(Warnings: Nazis, a tiny bit of blood, explosion, guns, accidental murder (of Nazis))

(Note: This story takes place directly after the scene at the bombed church, if that isn’t immediately made clear enough.)

The rubble of the razed church lay piled up around the angel, illuminated by fires that had sprung up from the ruins. The flickering flames cast haunting shadows over jagged edges of stone. An air raid siren in the distance, along with the far off screams of people nearby, added an ominous layer to the already depressing scene.

Aziraphale honestly couldn’t care less. He was a little too preoccupied with the demon sauntering off into the gathering darkness, the very demon who had, just moments ago, rescued him and his precious books in an undeniably selfless and courageous act of pure kindness. It was a hard concept to process in itself without the odd feeling of warmth and giddiness spreading from his chest to the hand holding his precious cargo. Adding that to the jolt of panic these sudden emotions brought, Aziraphale could hardly breathe, let alone move.

“Hurry it up, angel!” Crowley’s lazy voice made something twist in Aziraphale’s gut, “Don’t know how many Nazis might be lurking around! Should probably get a move on!”

Aziraphale took a few moments to find his voice, “R-Right! I’m...right behind you!”

Crowley spun back around and strolled unhurriedly yet with a few cautious glances into the darkness to the car he’d parked somewhere in the distance. Aziraphale took one step after him, then two. When he didn’t immediately combust in a shower of sparks, the angel found enough confidence to jog after the demon, clutching his books protectively to his chest and slipping and sliding over bits of rock as he went.

Being the unusually considerate demon he was, Crowley paused to allow Aziraphale to catch up to him. Aziraphale flashed the demon a nervous smile as he neared and averted his gaze for the remainder of the walk. He found himself in an odd state of being where he deeply wished he were alone in his bookshop while also wanting to never leave Crowley’s side. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt this way, though this time he had to reckon with the strange flips his stomach was doing.

Aziraphale wasn’t an idiot. He was an angel, and angels knew a thing or two about love, or at least were very good at detecting it. Right now, Aziraphale could feel it in himself, and the feeling was directed at Crowley. The feeling was strong, too strong, so strong that the angel tried to suppress it for fear it would come off of him in waves that would wash over Crowley and give him away. But Crowley just kept walking, oblivious, hands tucked leisurely in his pockets.

The angel and the demon eventually stepped over the last of the rubble and crossed the road to reach the car parked on the other side. It was a black car, sleek and well-looked after. Aziraphale wasn’t much of an expert on vehicles not involving horses, but it seemed of a good design and make.

He was about to say as much to Crowley in an effort to relieve the oppressive silence between them, when a gunshot went off nearby. Aziraphale winced as something whistled past the demon and him. He barely had time to realize that someone was shooting at them before Crowley was dragging him roughly by the elbow.

“Blasted Nazis!” Crowley hissed through clenched teeth. He yanked Aziraphale round to the front of the car, “Get in, angel!”

Aziraphale ducked down and hurried around the car to the passenger side while Crowley fumbled to open the driver’s side door. Another gunshot went off, closer this time. Aziraphale threw open the car door and dove inside, his bag of books still clutched firmly to himself. The angel noted as Crowley clambered in that the demon’s hat was missing from his head.

“Bloody close.” The demon growled as the car sprang to life beneath them.

Aziraphale twisted in his seat to see a car speeding up behind them, “I thought the Nazis I met in the church were the only ones here!”

“They were,” The car engine roared, “But some tailed me as I came here. Been keeping track of my movements for a while.”

“Why?” A bullet cracked against the glass windows of the car. Crowley muttered a curse.

“I’m kind of a big deal at the moment. Hang on!”

“Hang on to wha-?” The car surged beneath them and took off at a speed Aziraphale had never before experienced. An involuntary yelp escaped him as the vehicle accelerated, fast leaving the car full of Nazis behind. Aziraphale fumbled for something to hold onto and eventually just latched onto his seat.

“Crowley!” The angel didn’t mean for his voice to sound so shrill.

Crowley glanced at him, “Oh, right! Never been in the Bentley before, have you?”

“S-Slow down- Watch the road!”

“We’re fleeing from Nazis, angel! Not exactly a good time to take it easy!”

“You’re going to get us killed!”

“Those Nazis are going to kill us if we don’t keep moving!”

Crowley turned his head to look through the back window, “Speak of the devils.”

Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut as the Bentley took a left turn at a velocity that defied whatever scientific laws God had placed on the Earth. He tipped dangerously in his seat and briefly made contact with Crowley’s tensed shoulder before snapping back to his seat once the car continued straight. More bullets rained on the car, burying themselves in glass and metal.

“Can’t concentrate enough while driving like this!” Crowley made a wild gesture with his left hand, “Do something, angel!”

“Like what?” Aziraphale shrieked as a bullet zipped past his face and narrowly missed Crowley’s hand. It transfixed itself in the front windshield.

“Anything!” Crowley shouted, “Just make them stop shooting holes in my car before they shoot holes in us!”

Aziraphale’s mind raced through all the miracles he could use. Make the car invulnerable? Turn their guns into toys? Miracle a flock of birds to blind them?

Another bullet whizzed through the now shattered back window. It moved too fast for Aziraphale to see but he heard the cry of pain Crowley gave a mere half second before the bullet crashed through the front window. The cry sent a jolt of something through Aziraphale and before he knew what he was doing he had raised his fingers and snapped.

The Nazi car exploded in a cloud of flame. The metal frame of the vehicle shot up into the air like a phoenix rising from the ashes only to crash back down to the ground on its head. The melting tires pointed upward to Heaven as a last means of salvation, but of course an agent of Heaven had caused it.

Crowley lowered the hand he’d pressed to the gash in his cheek to stare open-mouthed at the destruction behind them, the car slowing to a halt. Aziraphale stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the orange light of the flames that danced around the inside of the Bentley.

The stunned silence went on impossibly longer until Crowley jerked back to face Aziraphale, looking from him to the fiery wreck and back again, “I...You... I didn’t...Uh...Good job.”

The angel refused to meet his gaze, “I didn’t mean to go that far. But you startled me when you...and...well...it’s done now.”

Crowley stared at him, the gaze made no less intense by his dark glasses. Aziraphale would have turned away, but the blood seeping from the wound on the demon’s cheek held his attention.

“Are you alright?” When Crowley seemed confused, Aziraphale gestured to his face.

“What? Oh, right. Yeah, I’m fine.” He smeared a hand over the injury and it healed up instantly, “Just a scratch.”

“Ah. Thank goodness for that.”

“Yeah…” Crowley didn’t take his eyes from the angel, “Thank goodness.”

Aziraphale glanced out the window and took a deep breath, “Well, we’d best be off, then. It’s getting late.”

Crowley reluctantly looked away from Aziraphale to glance at the sky, “Yeah…”

After miracling the car back to it’s original intact condition, Crowley sped away from the flaming wreck, though thankfully remained slow enough not to make Aziraphale fear for their corporations. More sirens blared in the distance, likely from fire trucks coming to put out the numerous fires the two entities had caused. It was best they make themselves scarce.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the Bentley as Crowley drove to Aziraphale’s bookshop. The demon was the first to break it, “So...tonight’s just been a night for blowing up Nazis, hasn’t it?”

Aziraphale sighed, “I didn’t mean to blow them up, not that I’m…”

Crowley turned to face him, “Not that you’re what?”

The angel gestured for him to keep his eyes on the road before responding, “Not that I’m upset about the whole matter. I’m sure Heaven won’t be upset with me for relieving the world of a few Nazis, especially in self defense.”

The barest smirk twitched across Crowley’s lips but he didn’t say anything.

Aziraphale looked at him. The demon’s glasses hid his eyes from view, and the angel wanted nothing more than to remove them to see the beautiful golden eyes beneath. Such a thought should have caused him to go up in smoke just as the Nazi car had done, but miraculously- er, luckily it didn’t.

“Are you sure no one else is following us?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley took a right turn that was still a little fast for Aziraphale’s liking but not too much as to worry him, “Pretty sure. I only counted one car following me when I drove here.”

That statement made another question spring up in the angel’s mind, “How did you know I was in the church?”

The demon shrugged, though Aziraphale noted the action was a little forced, “Like I said, pretty popular at the moment. Word reached me about some Nazis planning to double cross an old bookseller and I figured it was you.”

Aziraphale glanced at his bag and allowed himself to relax his hold on it. He nodded to Crowley, “I know I already expressed my thanks, but-”

“Don’t mention it, really.” Crowley waved the gratitude aside, “I should thank you for taking care of those other Nazis.”

“It was my pleasure.” Aziraphale gave a small smile.

Crowley simply nodded and the drive continued in a comfortable silence.

Aziraphale was far more reluctant than he should have been to bid good night to Crowley. The demon stopped the car right at his bookshop entrance. The sight of the darkened shelves sent a wave of loneliness through the angel. The sudden urge to invite Crowley inside seized hold of him and he spun to face the demon.

Crowley’s hair glowed red in the light of the streetlamps. One arm was thrown casually over the steering wheel and the other rested on his seat so he could face Aziraphale. His eyebrows raised as he sensed the question forming on the angel’s lips, his lips parting slightly in surprise and some emotion Aziraphale couldn’t read.

The angel instantly panicked and choked on his words, “Thank you for taking me home!”

Crowley sat still as stone for a few seconds before he gave his head an almost imperceptible shake and averted his gaze, “Yeah, yeah, no problem.”

Fumbling with the door, Aziraphale pushed it open and stepped out into the chill night. He placed his hat on his head and held his bag in a two-handed grip. Without a backward glance, he marched up to his bookshop, threw the door open, and slammed it behind him. After a couple of seconds, the Bentley’s engine roared and quickly faded out of earshot.

The bookshop felt dark and empty despite the mass of his beloved books surrounding the angel. Aziraphale leaned against the door, not wishing to trek any further into this lonely establishment. But trek he did, with a thud in his step and an ache in his heart.

I’m an angel. He’s a demon. We’re hereditary enemies. Get that through your head, you stupid principality!

Aziraphale set his bag down and collapsed into an armchair, throwing his hat haphazardly into the gloom.

He had made the right decision, at least that’s what he continued to tell himself in order to stifle the intense yearning he felt. If he had let Crowley into his shop, Aziraphale was sure he couldn’t have endured it. He loved Crowley. That fact wasn’t something he could ignore, however much he wanted to. It was something he needed to repress until it was rendered inert. That wasn’t how emotions worked, the angel knew, but he had no other choice. It was simply impossible for Crowley and he to be anything other than what they were so there was no point in loving him at all. Their relationship at the moment was already a forbidden one without adding love into the mix.

What kind of an angel am I? Aziraphale was forced to conclude he was a lousy one. With a sigh that came from nearly 6,000 years worth of wariness and one night of harrowing action and new discoveries, the angel popped open the first bottle he saw and poured himself a glass.

#Good Omens #Aziraphale #Crowley #Ineffable Husbands #Writing Entity #TW Nazis #TW Blood #TW Murder #TW Guns

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shatteredglassanimated · 4 years

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Shattered Glass Animated Season 1 Episode 2 - Transform and Rise Up!, Part 2

Fifty Years after their crash-landing, the Decepticons awaken to find themselves in the middle of a dispute between Detroit’s despotic overlord Isaac Sumdac and a group of brave heroes, fighting against his tyranny.

The sky darkened over the are of Downtown Detroit, as a Sumdac aircraft slowly pushed itself across it, obfuscating the sun for a moment. The citizens halted in what they were doing, each on looking up at the vehicle with the trademark ‘S’ on both sides with wary eyes. Parents pulled their children close to them, most people, already sensing that whatever was going to happen was most likely either dangerous and/or something they wanted no part in, retreated to their homes, doors slamming shut after them. Police-drones drove underneath the aircraft, roughly shoving aside anyone who dared get in their way. It seemed their destination was the central square. However, about half the way to it, the strange, ominous parade came to a quick and premature end. The aircraft stopped abruptly, a loud creaking coming from within it. The drones, confused about this sudden change of plans stopped and raised their scanners towards it, unsure what to do. They would not have to wonder for long. A long, brown tentacle shot out of the aircraft’s side, grabbing one of the drones and lifting it up in the air, ignoring the gun fire it unleashed upon it. More tentacle began to sprout from the ship, tearing more and more holes in it’s hull until finally the whole thing inflated like a particularly grotesque balloon and exploded into tiny pieces of shrapnel. Having lost it’s means of transportation, a gigantic creature fell from the sky, flattening half the remaining drones in a crater that spanned the entire street. Seemingly unperturbed by it’s fall, the creature raised it’s giant insect-like head, feelers twitching and pulled the drone it was still holding into the giant, white goo forming it’s body. It’s other tentacles shot out all around it, wrapping themselves around street lanterns, cars and any drones unfortunate enough to get in their way, pulling all of it in to be submerged in the creatures’ steadily growing body. Letting out a blood-curdling screech, the creature dragged itself forward, crushing everything in it’s wake. The people screamed in panic, trying to get away from the thing while simultaneously dodging all kinds of rubble while they did so. A young man, tripped and fell as he tried to follow the panicked crowd. Breathing heavily, he turned on his back and his eyes widened as he saw the creature steadily moving in his direction. It had almost reached him, when a small, slim projectile flew through the air at high speed, colliding with the creatures’ head and exploding, sending it reeling backwards. The young man blinked in confusion, but before he could gather himself enough to ask himself what had just happened, something, or rather, someone hit the ground with their feet beside him and he felt a strong arm gripping him around the waste. The next moment he and the mysterious stranger both were lifted into the air about two streets away from the still confused creature. “Fear not, citizen,” he heard a voice say, as his savior carefully placed him on the ground. “This most vile fiend shall be disposed off in no time! Evacuate and leave this matter to the Amiable Archer and his valiant companions!” The young man looked up, still confused, just in time to see a man wearing a Robin Hood-esque blue outfit pull out an arrow attached to a rope from his quiver with a hand that looked robotic and shooting it at a nearby building, pulling himself away, waving as he did so. The man who called himself Amiable Archer, known to his friends as Aaron A. Archer, dropped and rolled onto a rooftop and narrowed his eyes to access the situation. The creature had recovered from his attack by now and, sadly, it didn’t seem to have taken any damage, making it’s way down the street in the same slow but destructive pace as before. “I see thou arens’t impressed by mine skill in the noble art of archery,” he shouted, already stringing up another arrow. “A pity thine tastes shalt never have the chance to evolve!” He cocked another arrow, aiming it at the creature. The projectile activated with a click, it’s tip transforming into a small rocket. As if it had heard the small noise, the creature’s head snapped into Archer’s direction and a tentacle shot out, aiming straight for his position. Archer yelped, quickly aiming the arrow at the incoming limb and shot. Arrow and tentacle met in mid-air in a small but destructive explosion. Bits of flesh rained down on the roof. Archer barely dodged out of the way, face scrunched up in disgust. This small distraction proved fatal. A second tentacle shot through the smoke, wrapping itself around Archer and pulling him forwards. Archer’s eyes widened, as he saw himself approaching the creature’s gaping maw and he struggled wildly, but the appendage remained wound tight around his body. “Gah! Let go, foul fiend!” “You’ve heard the man,” a booming voice shouted from behind him. “Hands off!” A giant of a man in a white body suit fell out of the sky, smashing one of his great fists right into the creature’s jaw. It screeched in pain, dropping it’s prey and retreating in on itself. Archer found himself free falling for a second, before the giant man jumped up from under him again and caught him bridal style. “Many thanks, Cyrus,” he said, jumping out of the man-mountain’s arms and onto the street. “I told ya’ not to run ahead,” Cyrus frowned, crossing his arms. “What am I supposed to tell Penny when you get slammed while I’m not there?” Before Archer could answer, a high-pitched scream filled the air again and the two of them quickly jumped out of the way as the creature slammed one of it’s appendages into the ground where they had just stood a second ago. “Someone’s cranky,” Cyrus snarked through gritted teeth, cracking his knuckles.

“Perhaps it misseth it’s slumber time,” Archer laughed. Grinning, he cocked up another bundle of arrows. “I shall solve that conundrum! Cyrus, if you wouldeth be so kind?” Cyrus nodded. He stepped behind Archer, putting his arms around the smaller man’s waist and pushed himself off the ground with all his strength. They soared through the air, slowly coming to a stop before the creatures’ mouth. “Almost,” Archer muttered, drawing back his bowstring. The creature opened it’s chops to roar, only to have a barrage of grenade arrows fired right into it. Cyrus and Archer hit the ground, quickly scurrying to a safe distance and looking expectantly at the monster. For a few seconds nothing happened. The creature was standing still, shaking it’s head as if confused. Then a fiery explosion erupted from it’s stomach, tearing it open and blowing the creature’s body into pieces. Cyrus quickly jumped in front of his friend, as both of them were pummeled by flying, slimy body parts. “Darn it, it’ll take forever to wash this off,” he grumbled. He eyed what appeared to be a piece of the creature’s belly that had landed on his upper arm with disgust before quickly shaking it off. “Ah, but surely a bit of housework is but a small price to pay for the people’s safety,” Archer grinned, somehow managing to look incredibly pleased with himself even as slime was slowly dripping from the rim of his hat. As if on cue, a cluster of civilians, having heard the commotion, slowly approached the street. Upon seeing that the creature was not only gone, but seemingly defeated, they broke out into cheers, some even applauding the two men still standing among the creature’s remains. Archer turned and bowed elegantly with a wide smile, while Cyrus merely scratched his bald head and looked the other way, obviously uncomfortable with the amount of attention he was getting. Coincidentally his eyes landed on a piece of the creature - and stopped. The dead tissue - or what he had believed to be dead tissue a second ago - was moving. And fast. And it wasn’t the only one. Bits and pieces of the creature’s body slowly started to crawl and drag themselves to the center of the street, where they assembled and grew bigger ad bigger, taking on their old form again. The people began to panic, screaming and pushing backwards to get away. Both Archer and Cyrus stared at the revived monster with horror in their eyes. “Aw, nuts,” Cyrus said quietly.

______________________________________________________________

Much further away, a piece of the creature was making it’s way through the forest, eager to reunite with it’s equals. However,as it was doing so, it detected a strange energy to it’s left, strong and machine-like in nature, yet somehow different. The small blob, unable to resist the temptation of a meal so exotic, began crawling towards the source. It’s persistence was rewarded when it came across a great, metal shell embedded in the earth in a remote part of the forest. Though the moss growing on it indicated it had been here for some time now, it hadn’t rusted even a bit, nor was it showing any other signs of decay. The blob of course couldn’t care less about such things. Excited it hopped onto the shell and pressed itself inside through a small slit. The inside of the ship was dark and cold. But the moment the blob fell from the split and onto it’s floor it sprang to life, alarms starting to blare, while a metallic voice proclaimed: “Warning! Escape pod contaminated!” The lights flickered on and the temperature rose. The blob, undeterred by this rapid change in atmosphere, slid over to a chair in front of a control panel, sliding up it’s side and onto a giant, slack, metallic forearm. Megatron rebooted to the pervasive sounds of sirens around him and warning lights bathing his surroundings in red. He groaned, putting a servo to his helm. Feeling something moving on his other arm, he looked down to see a strange, brown, moving substance slowly stretching itself over it. He yelped, throwing the thing off him and against the pod’s wall. The thing flattened and miserably slid down to the ground, dragging itself back towards the slid it had come through. Megatron watched it escape, optics wide. Something told him that he’d gotten the thing of just in time, though he couldn’t really say why. “How long have I been in stasis?” he muttered to himself. He shook his helm and turned back towards the control panel, turning off the alarm system and hectically jammed the frequency for the other escape pods into the keyboard, only to be met with static. Fearing the worst, he activated his own comlink, but the outcome was the same. Megatron got up from his chair and headed for the door. It didn’t budge when he pressed the button right next to it. Giving an annoyed grunt, he jammed his sword in-between and, with some difficulty, used the leverage to open it. He emerged into a sunlit clearing, surrounded by strange brown and green structures he couldn’t recognize. Thinking of the strange being that had tried to attach itself to him in the pod, Megatron carefully exited the vessel, taking in his surroundings. It seemed his pod had landed separately from the others. That was not ideal, to put it mildly. Worry and despair began to manifest in his processor. He was stranded on a planet he did not know, his pod was clearly damaged and there was no indication the others were even still online. No, he couldn’t think like that. They had not escaped the clutches of the Autobot-empire only to go offline here! He would find them and then they’d figure out their next steps. Megatron sheathed his sword and scanned the surroundings for Decepticon energy signatures. Stasis meant their signatures would be dimmed down significantly, but if they were in his general vicinity, he would be able to detect at least a small trace of it and follow it to it’s owners. Luck was on his side. The scan showed a faint Decepticon energy signature east to his position. He briefly pondered transforming into vehicle mode, but decided against it. Best not to draw attention to himself by flying just yet. His sparking, damaged servo was acting up as well. Additionally, making his way on foot would give him another chance to take in this planet’s surface. The strange structures around him seemed to take up a large part of it. Upon closer inspection, he recognized them as organic and, in some cases inhabited by smaller organics. Megatron left them be. Though he found the seemingly purely non-technological nature of this planet fascinating, his fellow Decepticons were his priority right now. After a few steps, the energy signature grew stronger and better traceable. It continued this growth, until Megatron found himself at a clearing similar to his. He didn’t detect the pod at first. A rough landing had buried it deep into the ground and the passage of time had caused it to be overgrown with a green, organic structure, slightly moist to the touch. Eventually, he managed to bury his way through to the door and pull it open through the same method he had opened his own. A soft, bright-blue light greeted him, together with the same intruder alert that had awakened him. Megatron could feel his core beat faster. If the Allspark was in this pod, that meant-! Not wasting another second, Megatron rushed into the pod and over to the chair before the console. He slowly raised a servo to grasp the chair’s backrest and turn it around to face him. Stasis had made Starscream slump a bit in his chair, but he looked unhurt otherwise, as a quick scan revealed. Megatron couldn’t help the relieved smile that spread over his face plate. His second-in-command groaned and shifted slightly, his optics slowly reactivating themselves as he lifted his helm. “Megatron...?” he muttered. “Where are we?” “I do not know yet,” Megatron answered, laying a gentle servo on Starscream’s shoulder. “But we should regroup with the others as fast as possible. I know you have just rebooted yourself, but do you remember where their pods landed?” Starscream shook his helm. “No, I’m sorry. It happened so fast, I was already in stasis when my pod landed.” Remembering something important, he jerked up. “The Allspark! I believe it was safe when I shut down, but.... I am sorry, I should have told you right away-” “Starscream,” Megatron said firmly, catching the other bot’s optics with his own. “I have already seen it. It is unscathed. You did well protecting it. And even if it had been, your well-being is far more important to me than any energy source.” Starscream chuckled nervously. “You had best not let Lugnut hear that.” “No, indeed not. Speaking of which, let us get to finding the others, shall we?” Starscream started to nod, but then hesitated. “What about the Allspark?” Megatron thought for a second. “We will leave it here. I have not picked up any Autobot energy signatures in this area and this planet seems to be organic in nature, so I doubt any of the locals would try to take it. They would have no use for it. Carrying it with us would only slow us down.” He stepped back and extended a servo to Starscream. “They might take it because it’s shiny,” Starscream joked, taking it and letting himself be pulled up. Megatron chuckled and together they exited the pod, closing the door on their way out. Starscream seemed equally intrigued by the planet’s surface as Megatron had been. During their search, he constantly stopped to take in this organic life form or that, though he usually snapped out of it only a nano-click later with an embarrassed look on his face plate. The stars were in their favor: It took them merely a few cycles to locate the remaining escape pods. Blitzwing and Lugnut had crashed in approximately the same area, though their pods were hard to find, as they had also been overtaken by the surrounding fauna. Blackarachnia was further away and she had exited her pod already by the time they found her. And she wasn’t alone. Leaning on her crashed vessel, optics curious, she observed a small, blob-like creature winding itself around her wrist in a circular pattern, as if it was unsure what to do. She looked up when she heard them approaching. “About time,” she called, pushing herself off the vessel and ambling towards them. “This little fellow crawled into my pod and woke me up. I figured I’d wait for you here, before running off aimlessly.” Her optics wandered back to the creature. “It’s fascinating. From what I can tell, this thing’s got circuitry, but there’s also something else. Kind of like my organic half, but...different, somehow.” Megatron felt his fuel tanks twist a the sight of the creature. He would have been more than glad not to see it again, though he still couldn’t say why. Clearing his vent, he stepped forwards, pointedly avoiding looking at the moving, slimy thing on Blackarachnia’s wrist. “Now that we are complete, we should explore our surroundings. Perhaps find a way to blend in with the locals, so we will not attract unwanted attention. Does the console in your pod still work?” Blackarachnia nodded. “Sure does.” She turned to enter the pod, the others following close behind her. “Do you have to keep that thing on you?” Lugnut asked, narrowing his optic at the still twitching blob. Blackarachnia shrugged. “It might prove useful.” “I find that hard to believe,” Lugnut huffed. Blackarachnia glared at him, opening her intake for a no doubt scathing response. Blitzwing quickly stepped forward, clasping her shoulder and leading her firmly, but gently along to the console. “He did not mean that, Lugnut is merely nervous like all of us. We will no doubt all feel better once we have a better grip on the situation, yes?” he said, smiling nervously. “Alright, calm down Three-face. I’m not gonna start anything,” Blackarachnia answered, plopping down on the chair and starting to type commands into her console. “I’m detecting a primitive surveillance system about a few hics away from here. I’ll try to hack it and see what we’re dealing with.” A monitor flared to life on the pod’s front, showing a bird’s eye view of a couple of big, grey structures in roughly the same style. It turned to show a wide square, surrounded by a wire fence. Dozens of warplanes, bombers, fighter jets and other tactical aircraft, along with a few tanks were arranged in rows, all carrying a slightly sinister looking ‘S’ on their wings or sides. “Well, the locals here sure seem to know a thing or two about weaponry,” Starscream noted, impressed optics trained on a particularly sleek fighter jet. “Let us hope they are willing to share,” Megatron said. “We will scan those vehicles and use their appearance to blend in.” “I’ll stay here then,” Blackrarachnia chimed in, leaning back in her chair and raising her wrist to observe the blob once again. “My alt-mode isn’t really interchangeable anyway. And I’d like to analyze this thing some more. The first-aid tools in my pod should suffice for that.” She skeptically eyed Megatron’s damaged arm. “Want me to take a look at that too while I’m a it?” Megatron shook his helm, trying to ignore Starscream’s worried look. “Familiarizing ourselves with our surroundings is more important at the moment. I will come to you for repairs when we return. Decepticons, transform and rise up!” Starscream, Blitzwing and Lugnut transformed into their vehicle modes behind him and the four of them took flight, heading towards the coordinated Blackarachnia had given them. After a few nanokliks of flight, a city came into view, the structure’s coordinates leading them right to it’s outskirts. The Decepticons touched down amidst a row of jets, changing back into their robot modes. “Split up and choose a form,” Megatron ordered, already walking towards a combat helicopter and taking it in with his scanner. His armor lit up and shifted until it fully accommodated for his new alt mode. He flinched a little as the shift began to affect his damaged arm. Starscream and Lugnut performed the same action on a fighter jet and a bomber plane respectively. “Not bad,” Starscream said, eyeing his new, slender wings appreciatively. “It will suffice,” Lugnut muttered, though he, too, was eagerly taking in his new form. Starscream ignored him, turning around and scanning the area for Blitzwing. Finding him standing between a tank and another model of fighter jet, seemingly at a loss for what to do, he walked over to him. “Everything alright Bltzwing?” Starscream asked. Blitzwing flinched and turned, giving Starscream an embarrassed smile. “I seem to have a bit of a, erm, problem.” Starscream raised an optic ridge. “A problem? What kind of problem?” Blitzwing opened his intake to answer, but then stiffened. His face plate shifted around, Hothead coming into view. “The fool wants to scan a fighter jet, but I’ve told him the assault tank is clearly superior! He will not listen to me!” In an instant, it switched back to Blitzwing with a whirring sound, who looked more than a bit harried. “But I am not good at fighting on the ground! A flying alt mode comes more natural to me and I-” Whirr. “You are not good at fighting at all! That’s why you have me to do it for you! Choose the tank!” Whirr. “Please, be reasonable! This alt mode will only hold the others back when we’re in battle.” Whirr. “It will leave them behind in the dust!” Whirr. “Do you see what I have to deal with?” Starscream had followed this argument with a small amount of amusement, but seeing Blitzwing’s genuinely distraught look broke his spark. “Why not choose both? You’re a triple-changer Blitzwing, this shouldn’t be a problem for you.” “It isn’t, but...” Blitzwing ex-vented, lowering his optics sadly. “I am not...fond of using that ability of mine. It... it makes it harder to stay in control.” Starscream put a comforting servo on his shoulder, giving him a soft smile. “I understand. But you can’t run away from this forever, Blitzwing. It’s part of who you are. Denying it won’t make it any easier to get control.” “I know. I suppose I should try to utilize it as best I can.” Blitzwing turned back to the two vehicles and, after a moment of hesitation, scanned both of them, looking utterly miserable while his form shifted. Starscream didn’t envy him. The ability to access two alt-modes was a powerful thing to have, but it came with it’s own price. Together they walked back to the center of the square, Megatron and Lugnut already waiting for them. Starscream noted with some concern that Megatron’s arm seemed to have taken further damage during the form change. Megatron noticed him looking and quickly turned so the damaged servo was hidden from his view, making Starscream frown a bit. “I see we all have acquired a camouflage,” Megatron said, pretending not to see his second-in-commands clear disapproval. “As our next step, we should-” A distant explosion cut him off and the Decepticons turned to see a massive column of black smoke rise from the horizon. Megatron raised a servo to his comlink. “Blackarachnia, it seems there is a conflict of some sort going on and it is close to our position. I would rather not interfere, but....” “Your chronic helper syndrome makes it impossible to ignore it, as always,” Blackarachnia finished and Megatron could swear he heard the grin in her voice. “I’ll take a look.” A feint typing sound came up and after a while she spoke again. “Seems like the locals got into a bit of trouble with...something. I don’t know what that’s supposed to be, but it’s bigger than they are. I think it’s bigger than us even.” “We should not bring ourselves into this,” Lugnut said. “We have more important things to do. The AllSpark must be brought back to New Kaon.” “B-But if we help them, they might assist us with repairing our pods,” Blitzwing answered back, optics nervous. “And besides isn’t it our duty to protect all life?” “I’m actually with Lugnut on this one,” Starscream cut in, catching Megatron’s surprised optics with his own. “You are in no condition to fight right now. There’s no telling what could happen if we take part in this battle. We don’t even know what it is we are dealing with.” Megatron turned around, in part to look at the smoke again, in part to gain more time to think. Perhaps he ought to listen to Lugnut and Starscream. The AllSpark needed to be brought to safety as quick as possible and his arm was throbbing more fiercely by the nano-klik. Still, the very idea of abandoning these life forms, whoever they might be, to a losing battle, however justified he might be in doing it, made his tanks turn. Ex-venting deeply, he turned back to his fellow Decepticons, optics steadfast. “I appreciate your concern, Starscream. And I agree that the AllSpark is what we should focus on first and foremost. However, Blitzwing is right. We took an oath to protect and keep safe all life within the galaxies. We cannot turn our backs to it when it needs us.” He saw doubt in Starscream’s optics and the seeker opened his intake again, to object, to criticize. But Megatron quickly cut him off. “Decepticons, transform and rise up!” ______________________________________________________________

Amicable Archer jumped, narrowly avoiding being crushed by a falling piece of rubble. He raised his head to scowl at the sight of the monster. Since it’s nigh defeat it had taken to grabbing several Sumdac-surveillance drones and either swallowing them in it’s maw or merely absorbing them into it’s body directly. It’s body continued to grow a an alarming rate as it dragged itself forward inch by inch, not caring or maybe even noticing who or what it crushed underneath it’s mass. A furious battle cry sounded through the air and Cyrus descended on the creature from the nearby ruins of what had once been an apartment house, giant fist raised. The creature slowly turned it’s head to him as if to react, only to receive a hard punch square across the right side of it’s head. It screeched, in either anger or agony or both and swatted the giant man aside with an irritated flick of it’s tentacle. Cyrus hit the pavement, leaving a small crater as he did so. Amicable Archer winced at the sight. He new his companions body suit was reinforced and his muscle mass dampened the hit, but that particular impact still looked like it has hurt quite a lot. As if to confirm his worries, a groan came out of the crater and Cyrus dragged himself out, holding his left arm as he limped over to Archer. “No chance,” he huffed, readjusting his arm with an audible ‘snap’. “Can’t even make a dent in it.” Archer clenched is teeth and turned his head to glare at the creature. “This bodeth unwell for us, friend. Mine arrows seemeth to be no match for it either.” “Think we should try and contact the Prof?” Cyrus asked, eyes focused on the creature as well. “He called us about this thing, maybe he knows something.” Archer hesitated. “I wisheth not to endanger him more than we already do...” Before he could continue that thought, the sound of jet engines and rotating helicopter blades filled the air. Several airborne vessels approached their position, dodging flying rubble as they did so. “Aw nuts, it’s Sumdac’s goons!” Cyrus cursed. “We gotta make a run for it!” “Halt! Look!” Archer grabbed his already retreating friend’s arm and pointed upwards at the vessels. “Doeseth their coloring not seem...peculiar to you?” Cyrus frowned and squinted up at the sky again. “Yeah...you’re right,” he said slowly. “That’s definitely Sumdac’s design but....they’re not standard color. And they don’t even have his logo!” He paused, scratching his bald head in confusion. “Come to think of it, didn’t Sumdac do away with his air force after he finished the robot forces?” _____________________________________________________________

“What is that thing?” Blitzwing asked, narrowly avoiding yet another tentacle shooting up into the air. “It...appears to be the same kind of being Blackarachnia kept,” Megatron answered. If he’d had his face-plate, it would have been scrunched up in disgust. Although he didn’t carry the same aversion to organic beings as some Cybertronians, something about this creature in particular was just so wrong. Maybe it was the way it writhed around, seemingly nothing but consumption to motivate it, maybe it was just the sheer repulsiveness of it’s ever dripping, growing mess of a body. “Should we open fire, Megatron?” Starscream hovered to his right, canons already lowered and aimed. Megatron hesitated. “Not yet. I want to confirm there are no Autobots in the general vicinity first.” Behind him, Lugnut huffed. “They would be mad to get close to this abomination.” As if it had heard and taken offense to the last statement, the creature lashed out and wrapped one of it’s appendages around Lugnut, pulling him in. Lugnut grunted, turning around and pulling into the other direction with all his thrusters would give. The creature seemed only barely deterred, continuing to pull as if a bomber plane flying at full power was of no concern to it at all. What did eventually deter it, was Starscream flying through it’s tentacle and severing it in half. The creature screeched in pain, flailing it’s remaining limbs wildly and tearing down whatever it hit. One of it’s tentacles crashed into an already dangerously unstable building, knocking loose a sizable chunk and sending it plummeting downwards - straight at two much smaller organics. The bigger off the two jumped to get out of the way, but the smaller one, when attempting the same tripped and fell, leaving it open to be crushed. Without hesitation, Blitzwing swooped in, transforming back into his robot-mode midway, shielding the tiny being from the rubble. The organic, having wrapped it’s appendages around itself during the ordeal, now slowly retreated two of it’s gangly limbs from it’s head and stared up at it’s savior, eyes wide and mouth gaping. “Are you alright, little organic?” Blitzwing inquired, smiling in what he hoped was an encouraging manner. The little one nodded shakily, but remained mute otherwise. “Well, so much for keeping a low profile,” Starscream muttered from above, though a particularly observant bystander might have noticed he was flying a lot lower and closer to the destroyed building as well, as though he had been in a hurry to get there, yet had abruptly stopped. “It cannot be helped, Starscream. What matters now is protecting those Organics,” Megatron said, flying closer to his second-in-command. Turning up his vocalizer, he boomed: “Decepticons! Transform!” All at once, the remaining Decepticons changed into their robot-forms, earning astonished and shocked gasps from the nearby huddling crowd. ______________________________________________________________ Cyrus, who had been ducking behind some rubble close to Blitzwing, unsure if he should attack the hulking robot-jet-thing that had just swooped in to save Archer looked at the flying giant robots with a mixture of awe and utter confusion. Were those things on Sumdac’s side or not? Androids seemed more like Detroit’s Overlord’s approach to threats, but Cyrus highly doubted Sumdac would ever program one of his precious machines to protect a civilian, much less a civilian that was clearly part of a resistance group that had been formed against him. And now that giant robot was gently lowering Archer to the ground, then immediately whirled around to shoot down a tentacle that had been gunning for their position, while taking care to put his body right between Archer and the monster. What the heck was going on??? ______________________________________________________________

“Decepticons! Attack!” Megatron roared, charging at the beast and drawing his sword. Starscream was right beside him, showering the creature with sonic-pulse blasts from above, while skillfully dodging it’s tentacles. Blitzwing took to the air as well, using ice blasts to try and immobilize and slow down the creature, freezing this and that part of it’s body and shattering any tentacle he happened to hit. “Die, creature!” Lugnut bellowed, transforming his arm into it’s explosive form and burying it in the creatures body. The explosion tore out a huge chunk of it’s belly, gunk and slime flying off to both sides, but merely a second after, the creature reformed, slowly enclosing Lugnut’s arm. The large Decepticon grunted and tried to pull back, but the creature’s pull was too strong. Megatron flew to his side, cutting a tentacle that had been attempting to wrap itself around Lugnut and grabbing on to the bigger ‘Cons arm. Their combined struggle seemed successful, as Lugnut’s arm slowly came out of the creature’s body. Megatron’s arm started to spark again, the pain making him flinch and loosen his grip. The creature screeched triumphantly as it consumed more of Lugnut’s arm. A heat beam cut through the air, severing Lugnut’s arm from his body and sending both him and Megatron stumbling back. “What are you doing, Blitzwing?” Lugnut shouted, narrowing his optic at the other Decepticon, and holding what remained of his freshly cut off limb. “Saving your aft, for all that’s worth,” Hothead snarled back, already firing at the creature again. Megatron frowned. “That was not necessary, Hothead. If you had helped, we could have saved Lugnut’s arm.” “Or lost the rest of- watch out!” The creature had used their argument to once again try and grab at them. Four tentacles at once zipped through the air, aiming straight for Megatron. Megatron’s optics widened and he tried to draw his sword, only for his arm to spark up once again and then go limp for good. Just before the creature could grab him, two servos shoved him aside and to safety. Megatron tumbled backwards, raising his helm to see what had happened. And froze. Starscream was struggling against the creature’s grip. Two of it’s tentacles were wrapped around his arms, while the other two held his legs and all four were pulling him in. Megatron flew forward, extending his still functioning arm, but it was too late. He could only watch in horror as the seeker was slowly consumed by the creatures mass. Rage and sorrow flooded his processor. For a moment, all he did was stare at the spot were Starscream had been just a nano-klik ago. He hard Blitzwing and Lugnut call his name, but for some reason they sounded far away. His body wouldn’t react. Part of him knew he had to move, that the creature would take him as well if he just stayed where he was. Lugnut appeared in his field of vision, shouting something. It was enough to pull him out of his stupor and reactivate the rational part of his processor. Barely dodging another attack, Megatron quickly put a hand to his helm and activated his comlink. “Blackarachnia! We need back-up at once!” “No, you don’t,” she snapped back. “What you need is to keep that thing busy!” Before he could open his intake again to tell her he hadn’t been asking, she spoke again:”No, don’t even start! I’m analyzing the nano-bots this thing’s made of right now. Their programming makes them see any foreign material as a threat. And if you glitch-heads want me to find a way to get rid of that thing for good, you better do as I say! Trust me!” And with that, the comlink switched off on her end. Megatron clenched his denta and flew back to the fight, drawing his sword again. Automatically, his scanner activated to search for Starscream’s energy signature. His spark skipped a beat when he found something was responding from within the creature, feint but still there. “Blitzwing, Lugnut! Can you make out Starscream’s energy signature in this creature?” he called, already preparing himself for a negative answer. “Yes, but it’s very weak,” Blitzwing responded, apparently having managed to switch back. “Me as well.” Just then, Blackrachina’s voice sounded over the comlink: “Blackarachnia to Megatron. I found and hacked a primitive drone in the area. I’m using it to send you the frequency to shut down the nano-bots inside that thing! Good news is, as soon as the frequency’s applied, they’ll deactivate and the whole thing will collapse without any harm coming to Starscream. Bad news is, these little guys are so primitive, you’ll have to upload it manually.” A clicking sound drew Megatron’s attention towards the ground. A drone was driving towards the battle, using it’s sirens to make itself visible. Megatron touched down in front of it and kneeled, extending his good arm. The drone beeped and gave out a small disk through and opening in it’s head. “I’ve scanned that creature with the help of my cameras,” Blackrachnia continued. “And it looks like it compiled all it’s functions into a highly protective central processor around the head area, Which basically means one of you has to let himself get eaten. Good luck!” “I’ll do it!” Blitzwing called, coming up beside Megatron. “I’m the fastest out of all of us and my frame is the smallest.” Megatron hesitated, but then nodded and handed the disk over to the triple-changer. “We will distract it to give you an opening. Be careful, Blitzwing.” “As careful as I’ll be able to be, considering the circumstances,” Blitzwing smirked. Both of them took to the air again, Megatron flying to join Lugnut, while Blitzwing quickly transformed into his jet-mode and flew an arc around the creature, speeding up as he did so. The creature turned, as if to engage with Megatron and Lugnut again, but then suddenly turned and shot a tentacle out at Blitzwing, who narrowly avoided it with a barrel roll. “Does it know what we are planning?” Lugnut asked, optic getting wider. “It is certainly acting smarter then before. Like...Starscream...,” Megatron’s optics widened and he activated his comlink again. “Blitzwing, abort!” “I can’t!” Blitzwing answered. “I am already at full ramming-speed!” Megatron opened his intake to warn him off again, but a tentacle, larger than the ones befroe, suddenly wrapped itself around his chestplate. Lugnut suffered the same fate. The two of them hammered the appendages holding them with sword and servo but to no avail. The limbs were thicker in composition and seemed to have hardened as well. Megatron sunk his sword into the tentacle holding him. Purple, energon-like liquid emerged from the already closing wound. “It merged itself with Starscream,” Megatron said horrified, to no one in particular. “It heard everything we have said over his comlink!” The creature pulled him and Lugnut closer, already it’s body was closing around them. And then Blitzwing collided with it’s head, transforming back to his robot-mode and activating the disk as he did so. Without missing a beat the creature turned it’s head and swallowed him whole. A blast of electricity flared up and engulfed the creature’s body. At first, nothing else happened. But then, all of a sudden. the creature’s body began to change, hardening, becoming more and more brittle. Until it finally collapsed in a heap of white powder. Megatron. Lugnut, Blitzwing and Starscream hit the ground hard, yelping and grunting as they did so. Lugnut pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, only to promptly collapse back to the ground, when his severed arm fell right into his helm. Grumbling, he got back up once again, re-attaching the limb with some difficulty. Blitzwing was laying on his back, groaning and clutching his helm. “That was...immensely unpleasant.” “I agree,” Megatron grunted next to him, sitting up. Remembering something important, his helm snapped up and his optics frantically searched the are until they could make out the still body of a seeker amidst the creature’s remains. Megatron pushed himself up and hurried over to Starscream’s side, optics worried. Relief washed over him as he saw that, apart from an accumulation of the creature’s dust on his chest, he seemed unharmed. He knelt down next to Starscream, smiling softly as his second-in-command slowly regained consciousness. “What...what happened?” Starscream asked, weakly raising his helm. “You saved my life yet again, Starscream,” Megatron chuckled. “And although I am grateful, I would prefer you not nearly throw away your own.” Starscream tried to say something, but then suddenly convulsed as if in great pain, falling back onto the ground again. “Starscream?” Megatron asked worriedly, extending a servo to try and help his friend up. The movement shook off the dust on Starscream’s chestplate - to reveals a gaping, sparking hole, still dripping energon. Megatron’s optics widened. “No...” He heard Blitzwing and Lugnut approach from behind. Without losing anymore time, he took Starscream’s limp body with his good arm and stood up, determination in his optics. “We’ll return to our pods immediately!” The other two Decepticons saw Starscream’s wound and nodded. Lugnut stepped forward. “I will carry him.” When he saw Megatron’s frown he added: “You can only use one arm. Do you wish for him to slip out of your grip mid-flight because you were not able to properly secure him?” Megatron opened his intake as if to argue, but then bit his lip-plate and nodded. As gently and carefully as he could, he handed the seeker over to Lugnut, who arranged him in his big arms just as carefully. Megatron’s spark sank at the sight. Starscream looked so small and fragile in Lugnut’s arms.

They took off in a flash, not noticing a small, flying object following them at a safe distance. ______________________________________________________________ “This doesn’t look good, Megs,” Blackarachnia said gravely. She was leaning over a still unconscious Starscream, medical tools in both hands. The minute she’d seen the other Decepticons arrive, Blackarachnia had ordered them to get whatever first-aid medical tools they’d be able to find in their own pods, but not before lowering Starscream against the walls of her own so she could examine him. “You are our best medi-bot, Blackarachnia,” Megatron said, fighting to keep his voice calm even as he noticed Starscream’s electronic paint-job getting paler with every nano-klik. “Surely there is something you can do?” Blackarachnia shook her helm, looking at him with a mixture of sadness and pity in her optics. “The damage is huge, Megatron. The medical tools I have here are good for patching up, but they can’t fix internal injuries. I’m sorry. If I had some more material, I-” “We wouldeth be able to provide that,” a voice sounded from the edge of the clearing. The Decepticons whirled around weapons at the ready. Two organics were standing beside a strange, futuristic-looking vehicle. The bigger one looked incredibly uncomfortable and seemed ready to bolt at any moment, while the smaller one was grinning from ear to ear, hands on his hips and striking a confident pose. “It’s the organics from before,” Blitzwing said, blinking in confusion. “How were you able to find us?” “You’re not exactly hard to miss, pal,” the bigger organic grumbled, crossing his arms. Megatron narrowed his optics, positioning himself so that Starscream was hidden from view. These organics didn’t seem hostile, but he was not ready to risk Starscream’s spark over ‘seem’. “You say you are able to help us?” he asked skeptically. “Indeed!” the smaller organic beamed. He stepped forward and performed an extravagant bow. “Alloweth us to introduce ourselves. I am the Amicable Archer, protector of the poor and the bane of Overlord Isaac Sumdac! And this,” he jerked a thumb at the bigger organic, “Beeth my faithful companion, Cyrus. We hadeth engaged in battle with the beast thou metal knights hast so heroically slain, and what’s more, one in your midst hast saveth my life! But you wereth gone before we could properly thank you, so we tooketh it upon ourselves to follow you. We heard your fellow knight hadeth received ghastly wounds in battle which you were not equipeth to take care of and so we humbly offer you to accompany us to our lair.” The Decepticons stared at him for a while, before their gazes slowly turned to Cyrus. The big man sighed. “He means we wanna thank you for saving us back there. Your pal seems to be in a tight spot and our base has some pretty neat robotic tools that could help you repair him. We can lead you there, if you want.” For a while, no one said a word. “Allow us to debate amongst ourselves, organics,” Megatron said finally. Archer nodded eagerly, while Cyrus just shrugged. The Decepticons huddled around close to the pod. “We should take the offer,” Blackarachnia whispered. “We’re obviously going to be here for a while and if they’re handing us a place to stay just like that, why look a gifted oil can under the lid?” “We cannot trust them,” Lugnut hissed. “For all we know they might have been responsible for that abomination! And we’d play right into their servos by following them to spark knows where!” “But they do seem earnest. And I saw them trying to fight that creature off when we arrived,” Blitzwing objected. “What reason would they have to deceive us?” “Apart from that, we’re running out of options and time,” Blackrachnia added, casting a worried glance at Starscream’s still body. “He needs medical attention and fast. Otherwise...” Megatron had been silent throughout the debate. Now he followed Blackarachnia’s optics, his own finding their way to Starscream’s wound. Could they really trust those organics? But did they really have a choice? He found himself wishing for Starscream to be here and take part in the debate. The seeker’s well thought-out advice and easy smile had helped him master more than one difficult situation in the past. If it was him lying there, what would Starscream have done? Then the seeker shifted and moaned in pain and that was all Megatron needed to make up his mind. “It is as Blackarachnia said. We have neither the time nor the options to decline them,” he said, turning his helm back to the other Decepticons. “Starscream is in dire need of help. The sooner we can find it for him, the better. Blitzwing, get the AllSpark. It is located in another pod to the south of us, not far from here.” Blitzwing nodded, stepped back and flew off. Megatron, Lugnut and Blackarachnia turned back around to Archer and Cyrus. Cyrus seemed curious about Blitzwing flying off while Archer tried (and failed) very hard to pretend he had not tried to eavesdrop. “We are taking your offer, Archer,” Megatron said, taking care to keep his expression neutral. “Lead us to that ‘base’ of yours.” ______________________________________________________________ Said base turned out to be a massive abandoned factory at the rim of downtown. The building was rectangular in shape, with windows that had been reduced to broken pieces of glass years ago. But as Archer assured them when it came into view, it’s appearance successfully hid the fact that every bit of machinery inside it was not only still fully functioning, but barely used as well. Apparently Overlord Sumdac had bought and abandoned the place during his rise to power, in favor of purchasing, in Cyrus’ words ‘flashier’ places to assemble his drones in.

All of that meant little to Megatron. During their flight he turned his helm around to look at Starscream, carried in Lugnut’s arms again. And he liked what he saw less and less. The seeker seemed barely conscious, not even flinching when Lugnut touched down on the ground in front of the factory’s gate. Archer typed some numbers into a control panel to the entrances’ right and the shutter moved upward with a heavy rattling sound. The inside of the factory, true to Archer’s words was littered with machinery and machine parts that for all intends and purposes looked just as alive as the rest of the place. Several doors led from the main hall to other parts of the building and Archer hurriedly waved them to one on the far right. “This tract houseth a repair station for larger machines. I believe it mayeth be big enough to allow for your friend.” He led them down a dark hallway that lit up as they moved along, until they reached another big door. Archer repeated the same process he had on the entrance and the door slid open to reveal a massive plate on two lowerable columns, along with a large number of currently inactive robotic arms around it. Blackarachnia gave an appreciative huff. “A bit dated, but it’ll do.” She motioned for Lugnut to lay Starscream down on the plate, while she walked up to it’s right side and retrieved her medical tools from her storage compartment. With a quick look at the small, human-sized control panels, she put her hands on each of them for a while, before raising and motioning them a few times. The robotic arms around her sprang to life and followed her movements. She nodded, seemingly content, then motioned toward the platform which now had Starscream’s body on it. The platform slowly came upwards until Blackrachnia motioned for it to stop. She turned around to the rest of the Decepticons. “I think you all should leave now. This next part isn’t exactly palatable.” “Where should I put the AllSpark?” Blitzwing asked as he and the others turned to leave. Megatron thought for a second. “Leave it here,” he said eventually. “I believe the good doctor needs all the life she can get.” Blackarachnia gave a thumbs-up from where she was standing, not turning around. She had already started operating, robotic arms around her moving towards Starscreams wounds. Blitzwing put the AllSpark in a corner of the room where it wouldn’t be in the way, then followed Lugnut and Archer outside. Megatron waited until he had gone. Then he spoke up again. “Blackarachnia?” She grunted in response, annoyed with the interruption. Megatron turned around, looking at her, at the table holding Starscream. “I beg you. Save him.” He received no answer and hadn’t expected one. He wasn’t certain if she even heard. But he knew he would never have been able to forgive himself if he hadn’t told her. Silently he exited the room, door closing behind him. ______________________________________________________________ Blackarachnia worked as if her spark depended on it. Though it wasn’t really her spark that was in danger here. With every minute, Starscream’s energy signature seemed to grow weaker. It had gotten to the point she had to provide energy by shock to keep it from going out. For every wire she connected, every nerve she sewed back together, two more seemed to be giving out. His energon pump was failing, so she had to use two of the arms to stimulate it until it started working again. A vital nerve weakened and she had to reconnect or shock it back online. And through it all she heard the ever more silent beating of his spark. The small pauses she had to make to renew her download on the control panels didn’t help. Megacycles went by and she felt she had come no closer to finishing what she’d started. Starscream’s internal machinery had taken far too much damage. She couldn’t repair it all fast enough and even if she could, she felt it would break down again. “Come on, Starscream, don’t do this to us,” she huffed, though she was certain he couldn’t hear her. A beeping on the monitor she had repurposed into a pacemaker gave a shrill warning that his spark was going to give out again. Cursing under her venting she pulled two robotic arms away from the nerve she’d been in the middle of repairing, build up electricity between them and shocked. The warning tone remained. She connected two wires and ordered the arms to shock his spark again. No change. Blackarachnia shot up, optics wide. Starscreams spark was shrinking. She could see it getting smaller by the nano-klik. “Oh no you don’t” she snapped, ordering all the remaining arms away from their current tasks and to feed-in. The arms put all their energy on the line, lowering and shocking the weakening light over and over. It was no use. Even when one arm after the other started to retreat due to lack of energy, she could make out no changes. “Frag,” she muttered, staring at Starscream’s dwindling spark, her whole body shaking. “Frag, frag, frag!” He was going off-line. He was going off-line and there was nothing she could do. She would have to go back out and tell the others, tell Megatron, that she had failed. Failed to save a fellow Decepticon warrior and friend. She heard Megatron’s voice, an unnatural pleading edge in it: “Save him.” She couldn’t. She’d tried it all. She’d failed. All of a sudden, a warm glow came from behind her. She whirled around, expecting to see Megatron standing in the doorway, somehow having felt what was about to happen. But the door was still closed. Standing right beside it, shining it’s light was the AllSpark. One of the oldest Cybertronian relics. The source of all sparks. Life itself. Blackarachnia stared at it, entranced. Something about it seemed to beckon her, to offer. An idea began to form in her processor. An idea that the older religious ‘bots on Cybertron would have called sacrilegious. At best. She looked back at Starscream. And vented sharply. His spark was almost out. It would extinguish if she didn’t act quickly. With a new found determination in her movement, she turned to the AllSpark. She knew what she had to do. ______________________________________________________________ The remaining Decepticons had assembled in the main hall, seating themselves on the random machine part or assembly line strewn about. The mood was tense. Every nano-klik one of them would raise their helm to look at the door they had come out of megacycles ago, Megatron the most frequent. Archer and Cyrus, reading the room, had decided to retreat to their own quarter in another part of the factory. Though there was much they (or at least Archer) wanted to discuss with their new acquaintances, neither of them wanted to disturb them during a moment of such emotional turmoil. Megatron had to restrain himself to not walk down the hall and tear open the door Starscream was being operated on behind. The main two things holding him back were his knowledge that disturbing Blackarachnia would accomplish nothing and his fear of what he would find. His servos were clenched in his lap, tightening with every cycle that went by. He couldn’t help but blame himself for Starscream’s fate. Starscream had always been there to have his back, to shield him from the worst the universe could throw at them. And yet, when the time had come to return the favor, he had failed to do so. Megatron didn’t know what he would do if Starscream went off-line. The seeker had been by his side for so long. So many battles fought, speeches held. So many things left unsaid.... The sound of an opening door tore him out of his dark thoughts. Blackrachnia staggered into the room, exhaustion written all over her face-plate. She collapsed onto an assembly line next to Blitzwing, putting her helm in her hands. Before any of them could ask, she lifted a digit. “He’s stable. Now he just needs to recharge for a while. I think we should all do that. I’ll start.” And with that, she dropped sideways onto the line and was in standby before any of them could say something further.

#shattered glass animated #sga #shattered glass #episode 2 #transformers animated fan-write

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ayoedebiris · 6 months

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[CAR CRASH] [GLASS SHATTERING] ‘GOOD LORD!’ [GENERAL COMMOTION] [BABY CRYING] ‘WAAAAH WAAAAH’ [YELLING] [POLICE SIRENS] WEEWOO WEEWOO [HELICOPTERS] ‘WE’RE REPORTING LIVE-‘ [EXPLOSION] ‘MY LEG... MY LEG...’[HORNS BLARING] [SIRENS EVERYWHERE] [CARS CRASHING] [FIRE ALARMS] [GLASS SH

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for-doritos-and-aslan · 6 years

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- Laughter is the Best Medicine - Peter Parker x Reader!Soulmate AU - Part 4

Laughter: a peculiar thing. Legend spins a mystery stating that when two soul mates laugh at the exact same time, they can hear each other and see their location. From then, they are connected. Whenever one laughs, dimly, it can be heard in the distance, like a lighthouse on the shore calling them together.

Warning: blood and diaster, fear and injury

There’s a moment as the blue sky bleeds a violent red and honks blare into screams. A moment right as the bridge breaks apart in a thousand pieces of fireworks of glass and steel. The moment where every feeling, every emotion, every moment and every laugh, whips through you in a millisecond: your life, flashing before you. What is left afterwards is fear.

Pain. It blossoms on the back of your head; glass hisses as it breaks and the car skates on the bridge, ripping its’ head across the cement. A sound like thunder and metal screeching fills the air as the impact shakes the car.

You open your eyes. Everything is blurry and for a few seconds, you blink to focus. The car is upside down.

There’s a shudder, and the car trembles. Something is wet. You draw two shaky fingers to your forehead and notice you are bleeding. The red drips slowly down your fingers and paints the floor. Glass, which litters the floor in tiny, jagged raindrops, reflects the shattered world around you.

Then, it hits you. The disorientation is replaced by panic, and you can’t breathe. Your mom is unconscious, but breathing. A single, terrified scream rips from your throat and you sob, clawing at the window beside you. “Help!” you cry, as seeping blood dyes your falling tears crimson.

Sirens wail in the distance, and nearby, Peter Parker is dreaming.

Peter Parker is dreaming about you. He’s dreaming about your beautiful face, which seems to absorb the light around it; it twinkles in your eyes and on your lips and in your laugh. The homework before him is mere scribbles and there is just his mind and no one else.

Peter Parker adores you. Even though you’ve barely met, he can say a thousands things about you that only he could know. He is the other part of your soul. Something you’ve never seen, but something that shows itself every second-in the way you think, believe, and act.

He is a part of that.

Then, like a chill raking across his skin, he hears the explosion. His spidey-sense flares, and he jumps out of his chair and looks outside. He can’t see anything, but the ground is quivering. He scribbles on a quick note for Aunt May to read later and throws on his suit and mask

He’s climbing, Up, up, up, to the very top, where he can look out and see what’s happening. The wind roughly charges at him as he looks out, already locating the scene. Karen gives him the details and he’s racing towards the bridge. Brooklyn bridge, curtained by a cloud of black smoke.

Suddenly Peter’s mind jumps to your last text, and he misses the building. He gives a startled yelp and shoots a web on its’ side.

Hey, going to Brooklyn. I’ll text you soon :) <3

Hot, icy, fear floods his heart. An ominous feeling settles inside him as he grasps the building, struggling to breathe and think.

“Are you okay, Peter? Your heart rate is elevated and I can detect your panic,” Karen’s voice says.

“I-I-we-,” he stammers, swallowing. “We need to get to Brooklyn bridge, now.” Even amidst his doubts, Peter feels hope budding against his fear-determination to save you, because you can’t be dead. You can’t, not yet.

He’s at the bridge before he realies it. Paramedics and firefighters are surveying the bridge, already beginning to evacuate trapped people from their cars. Sobs echo through the air and blood and glass stain the cracked cement.

Smoke suffocates the air above, making the sky look like night. Peter searches for you, his eyes scanning the area. Time seems to freeze. He helps a few young children to safety, but his mind is always on You.

Were you even on the bridge?

The bridge trembles, and Peter loses his balance. Someone screams, and others are running.

"Hey! Hey! Spider-Man!" someone is yelling. Peter turns his frantic gaze on the fireman, whose face is white and frightened. "The bridge is about to collapse! The explosion blew the middle but the other parts are about to fall! You need to leave, now!" The fireman spins on his heel and sprints towards the flashing ambulances.

The panicked paramedics are pushing survivors toward the shore. Bodies of the departed lay scattered on the bridge like a twisted maze. Those who can run trample over them, struggling to reach safety.

Just as Peter turns to leave, certain that he's saved all he can, the smoke clears. Black mist curls into the clogged air and reveals a car.

Your car.

Messily, you guide your trembling fingers to the seat belt lock. With a terrified scream, you realize it is jammed. Black dots flash across your vision as cold adrenaline pumps in your veins.

As you pull up on the strap, it slowly loosens. With a strangled cry, you slide out on the glass. You nudge your Mom and she awakens, blinking slowly.

"W-we need to get out!" You hyperventilate, body convulsing with sobs.

Suddenly, the bridge jolts and you're thrown against the glass. A shard sinks into your arm, spilling blood on the ruined windshield. The world seems to tilt and there is no pain, only cold.

Peter, you think. You have to fight for him.

With a groan, you turn slowly to face the ground, looking for an exit. Your mom has wiggled out of her seatbelt. You expect to find ruined concrete and shattered glass.

But there is no bridge.

Only water and your car just barely dangling off the edge.

A scream freezes in your windpipe, but you can't breathe or scream or think. The water below is littered with remnants of cars. All you know is fear- it grips your heart like a freezing demon who never lets go.

A lone sob rocks your chest. This is where I die.

The bridge is shaking, columns below beginning to buckle. The water is looming below like a giant beast with arms outstretched. Death lies below to grab you in her warm embrace.

You claw at the window, but it won't break. Your mother reaches over and grabs your wrist, face still with fear. Her eyes brim with tears.

"Don't move." She whispers. The car shudders as the bridge shivers below it. The ground moves with them.

This was it.

Peter doesn't think. He bolts to your car, heart pumping violently against his chest. He's afraid. Afraid to lose you when he's only just found you.

The car is flipped over, and he can hear you screaming for help inside.

It is barely hanging on. With every tremor it slides further down. If he doesn't save you soon, you will plummet to your death.

He's there within seconds. The crumbled door is ripped from its' hinges and thrown on the concrete. Peter helps your mom out. She gives a startled cry and clings to him.

"Don't worry. You need to get to safety. I'll save her." She nods and hesitantly runs away. Spider-Man reaches out to grab you from the car.

But it is too late.

The bridge rumbles and the car drops down, down down.

You expect to explode into white. Into darkness. You expect the cold water wrap you into her depths and to drag you down like a vindictive siren.

As you fall, you think about Peter and he smile. And the night you heard his laugh floating in the air, capturing your heart and soul.

It is finished.

Peter screams. He screams until his voice is raw and he acts. His webs shoot forward. Time slows. It is non-existent. Fear, like he's never known before, is so powerful it seems to shatter him.

Something grabs. The bridge is falling. He shoots another web to hold on, because soon he will plunge to his death. Peter pulls because it could be you. He can't give up.

The bridge roars as it gives its' last hurrah and crashes into the East River. Peter slams against the remaining pole he's latched onto and gasps for breath.

Peter jerks his other web to him. A body crumples against him. His arms wrap around a waist, hair tickling his cheek. He blinks and looks into your eyes before they flutter shut.

"Y/n?" He says, not bothering to change his voice.

"Peter." You whisper.

You sag against him, a soft sigh leaving your lips. Your leg is broken and your head is bleeding, but you're alive. Peter carries your limp body to the shore, where two paramedics place you on a stretcher.

Your mother sobs as she strokes your face, weeping tears of happiness. The doors slam shut as Peter stumbles back, struggling for air as though he's just run 3 miles at a sprint.

He hurries home, throwing off his suit and jumping into the first thing he finds. He breaks off into a sprint towards the hospital, feet slamming in time with his heart.

The darkness fades into soft, white light. An incessant beep fills your ears and you groan. It takes a few moments, but the events from before flood your brain.

The explosion. The water below seeming to taunt you, threatening to suffocate you within. Spider-Man, who had Peter's voice.

Peter.

You shoot upwards, searching for your phone. A nurse enters the room, rushing to your bedside.

"Shh, it's okay. Lay back down, sweetie. Do you remember what happened?" She says, quickly checking your vitals.

Weakly, you nod. Your head is aching and you notice a cast on your leg. "The explosion." Everything feels numb.

The nurse nods, eyes reflecting her emotions within. "Someone is outside to see you." She leaves and opens the door for someone else.

A brown-eyed boy enters the room, stopping at the sight of you.

For a moment, it doesn't feel real to him. Hours ago he thought it was over. That you were gone. The sight of you in a cast and bandages causes guilt to flood his heart.

Somehow, he makes it over to the bed. You look beautiful, so damn beautiful.

"Peter." you say, unashamed of the tears that roll down your cheeks. He walks to the bed, pulling you into his arms. He's shaking.

"Y/n..." He takes a moment to finish, relishing the feeling of you in his arms. Safe, protected. "I thought I lost you, I almost-" he stops himself, remembering he cannot reveal his secret.

"Peter...was that you at the bridge?" You ask. What is clearest in your memories is his voice echoing in your mind before you slip into darkness.

Peter is quiet. "I-I'm Spider-Man. I saved you." He says. "I thought I had failed you, but you're alive. You're okay." His voice cracks and he buries his head in your shoulder.

Slowly, you wrap your arms around him. One is sore and wrapped with a bandage.

"Thank you." You whisper. "You saved me."

Hello! Thank you so much for reading this series. I hope to post the epilogue tomorrow, so it's not quite over yet! Thank you guys for your support 💜💜💜

Tags:

@theoctoberfire @fangirl-colo @satxrnrabbit @that-fandom-sucks-tho @onlygetaway @mega-trash-cringe @roses-hxlland @cutiepiemimi13 @lubellatrix @bi-asfuck @legendarydazekitten @hellaparker @sweetheartparker @11mb0 @gamegirl23100 @mortalkingss @not-illegal-if-u-win @spider-mendes @strange-down-here @embrace-themagic @kayln97 @iwillalwaysbevictorious @mdgrdians @bloomingparker @sourieeseb @tomshufflepuff

#imagine #tom holland headcanon #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker x reader #peter parker headcanon #peter parker #marvel imagine #marvel #spiderman #x reader #soulmate au #laughter #series #avengers #avengers imagine

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