#he fought and fought and fought to let his team be safe and his sacrifice didn’t even mean anything more than cybertron being alive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elendiliel · 1 year

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The Last Prime

Hold on to your hubcaps; this is a long one, as it covers the whole of "Predacons Rising". (I'm willing to repost it as shorter chunks, if that's more to everyone's liking. It's also on AO3 here.)

As usual, inspiration credits to @justawannabearchaeologist's "TFP Wheeljack in TFA" series. For the ending, I am also indebted to @novafire-is-thinking's ongoing analysis series "Who is TFP Optimus?" Both are highly recommended.

Here goes...

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“We have endured many hardships and countless battles,” Optimus Prime declaimed, “but at last our home planet has been restored. We would not be standing on Cybertronian soil were it not for the valiant efforts of both those assembled here – including one from far away,” his optics rested on Glitch, who blushed and dropped her gaze to the ground; she hadn’t really done all that much, and certainly no more than her duty demanded, “and our absent comrades. Ratchet, who remains on Earth to safeguard our human friends,” Arcee laid a sisterly servo on Glitch’s shoulder, aware that the young medibot missed her friend and colleague, and was more than a little daunted by the prospect of filling his role, “and Cliffjumper, who made the ultimate sacrifice.” It was Glitch’s turn to put a discreet arm around ‘Cee, Cliffjumper’s partner. She knew his death had inflicted a wound on her comrade that would never fully heal.

“But on this day,” Prime continued, “at the dawn of a new era, we gather to bestow a special honour, one earned by Bumblebee through his bravery and devotion to the cause of peace, long before he rid the universe of the scourge of the Decepticon warmonger.” We hope, Glitch caught herself thinking. Megatrons, in her experience, were pretty hard to kill. “In the company of your fellow Autobots, in the presence of our creator Primus, the living core of our planet, and by the authority vested in me by the Matrix of Leadership,” Prime raised the Star Sabre, a relic of the ancient Primes Glitch had nicknamed Andúril, “Bumblebee,” Andúril touched Bumblebee’s left shoulder, then his right, as he knelt before his leader, “arise, a Warrior.”

As Bumblebee stood up, the rest of the team clustered around to congratulate him, even Glitch, though she was still a bit hazy on why the ceremony was such a big deal – or necessary at all. But then, her Cybertron had been officially at peace since before she came online – helium, before her CO came online – and its class system wasn’t as rigidly defined as that one had been before the Autobot-Decepticon war. While Elite Guard positions were very much sought-after by a lot of young ‘bots, they were, theoretically, open to anybot. And she’d never wanted one. She was more than happy to be a field-tech, a healer and protector, not a destroyer.

Unlike, say, Wheeljack. “Let’s get this party started!” The Wrecker lived up to his unit’s name, triggering explosives he must have planted beforehand in a statue of Megatron. Glitch had to admit to a certain satisfaction as the stone warlord was deconstructed joint by joint, but did Wheeljack have to make such a mess of everything?

Prime allowed them a few cycles of jubilation before speaking again. “I am sorry to interrupt your celebration.”

“Here it comes,” ‘Cee remarked.

“Primes never party,” Bulkhead added.

“You might be surprised,” Glitch murmured, thinking of another red and blue mech, who had a hidden talent for the guitar.

“But I must take my leave of you,” Prime carried on. So soon? Prime had fought at least as long and hard as anybot there, and more so than most. He deserved to enjoy some peace, at least for a while.

“Sir, may I ask why?” Ultra Magnus enquired.

“Though Cybertron is once again able to support life,” Prime began, “our planet is currently incapable of generating new lives.”

“Let me guess,” Glitch interrupted him. “We need the Allspark. I wondered when that box of tricks would enter the picture. And it’s probably safely out in deep space, where almost nobody can find it.”

“That is correct.” Prime wasn’t as surprised that she’d second-guessed him as might be expected. He knew how similar their realities were, in some ways. “I assume yours was hidden for the same reason.”

She hummed in assent. “Cooled the war down a treat, especially when Megatron buzzed off to look for it. And before anyone asks, we post-war ‘bots received our sparks from Vector Sigma.” She was aware that the ancient computer had a counterpart in that reality, but clearly it didn’t have that particular functionality. More’s the pity.

Bumblebee was all for retrieving the Allspark as a whole team, but Prime pointed out that they couldn’t leave Cybertron vulnerable to Decepticon remnants. He assigned Ultra Magnus to organise patrols and hunt down Starscream and Shockwave, and Bulkhead to start the rebuilding of the wrecked planet, prioritising a landing field for other Cybertronians who might come home. Only Wheeljack would go with Prime; he was one of their best pilots, and had wandered the galaxy for aeons before finding his way to Earth and the team. Glitch pulled him aside for a quick word as the party broke up, knowing better than to argue with Prime over non-medical matters. (Wheeljack was also much closer to her in height; sometimes she practically had to shout to get Prime’s attention.)

“Promise me you’ll look out for each other,” she said. “The Allspark may be the source of your life, but if my version’s anything to go by, for individual ‘bots it’s trouble with a capital T, R, O, U, B, L and E.”

“It can’t be that bad – can it?” At least Wheeljack was taking her semi-seriously.

“Let me put it this way. My Allspark nearly flattened the ‘bots it chose as its protectors, then almost got them killed again when Megatron found them. They were missing, presumed dead, for half a century.” A very long half-century for Glitch, who had had two close friends on that crew. Including her now-partner and boyfriend. “Megatron was in stasis and pieces all that time. Starscream tried to use it to level Detroit; it offlined Optimus trying to get rid of Screamer, then revived him. Its power also revived Megatron’s head and allowed him to create the Dinobots and Soundwave before putting him back together again. When he got his servos on it, Optimus had to disperse it to avoid disastrophe, and the fragments are still causing all kinds of chaos. Everything from haywire assembly lines to an immortal Starscream. And its reassembly killed Prowl. Shall I go on?” She could, for quite some time.

“No, that’s enough. I’ll have Optimus’ back out there, I promise, and we both know he’ll have mine.” Prime would always put his soldiers’ and friends’ lives first. Then something Glitch had said struck Wheeljack afresh. “Your Starscream’s immortal? I thought ours was a nuisance, but…”

“He certainly used to be. Most inconvenient in some ways, though I for one don’t actually want him dead. Jazz thinks he saw the fragment keeping him alive being pulled out when he and Prowl were reassembling the Allspark, but his shell was never found. And when it comes to that ‘bot – don’t count him as offline until you see the body, and even then you can still be wrong. Come to think of it, that applies to Megatron, too.”

“Not ours, I hope. Anyway, I’d better get going. Look after Magnus and Bulkhead for me.”

“Wilco.” The Wrecker and the field-tech went their separate ways, the latter hurrying to the ex-Decepticon warship the team was using as a base, suddenly dying to get to work.

***

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! How’re you gonna attach the cladding when the framing structure’s incomplete, huh?” Bulkhead’s voice, followed by a series of metallic clangs and clatters that sounded like something out of a slapstick comedy, must have carried for hics as Arcee and Glitch drove to the building site that was meant to be an air traffic control tower.

“Labour issues?” ‘Cee asked as she transformed beside her old friend. With the Autobots rotating between patrols and their individual duties, Bulkhead was having to work with a crew of Vehicon volunteers whose enthusiasm clearly outstripped their skills.

The answer was self-evident, so Bulkhead changed the subject. “Any news of our fugitives?”

“Just signs of recent scavenging in former Decepticon installations.”

“And the warship can’t detect their life signals?” Bulkhead looked to Glitch, now the team’s only tech “expert” on-planet, who had been making friends with the Nemesis ever since Megatron’s defeat.

“Shielded,” she answered briefly. “Working on it. Needed to spin my wheels, though, and get a vent of fresh – whoa!” Amply demonstrating why some of her teammates affectionately called her “the little monkey” when they thought she wasn’t listening, she scrambled up the side of the half-built tower to where part of the frame was likely to give way. A few nanokliks’ work with her built-in blowtorch, and the problem was solved. She all but jumped back down, eager to be on solid ground again, and rejoined her friends.

“Nice one,” Bulkhead said, appraising her patch job with a professional optic. “How’d you spot that?”

“I’ve done my share of construction work, back in Detroit.” She no longer said “back home”; she had three homes in two universes. (The others’ Cybertron wasn’t one of them, though – yet.) “Urban combat tends to get messy, and it’s only right that we should help fix the damage afterwards. Good PR, too. One learns to see problems before they become serious.” Especially if, like her, one had a talent for pattern-recognition – even at the expense of other abilities, such as face-recognition. “By the way – maybe cut the Vehicons a bit more slack. Not everybot has your expertise.” Bulkhead had been a labourer before the war, so-called “low caste”, protoformed for construction. She hoped she’d found a positive spin to put on that.

Either she had, or he’d hidden his reaction well. “I’m trying, but it’s not easy. If a mistake can be made, they’ve probably made it, even with the basic stuff. I know they can learn, but – honestly, I’d rather have a crew of Constructicons than these guys.”

“Scrapper would definitely help,” Glitch agreed, thinking of the Constructicons back in her universe. “’Specially if Snarl lent a servo as well. Maybe Mixmaster, if we could get hold of enough decent motor oil. Not Dirtboss, though. We’d have an Energon racket on our servos before we knew where we were.” She was partway through describing the diminutive Decepticon’s attempt to control Detroit’s oil supply when Bumblebee called her comm. “Glitch, we need you back here now. Magnus is hurt, badly. I’m sending a groundbridge.” Stars, that sounded serious. Oh well. That was what she’d signed up for.

It was serious, as even a preliminary scan made abundantly clear once she’d reached the Nemesis med-bay, where Magnus was already on her repair table. “Blimey, there’s a lot of internal damage here. Most of it pretty bad. Predacon? New one, I’d say.”

“Yeah, two of ‘em. How’d you know?” Smokescreen had been on patrol with Ultra Magnus, and was still hovering by his commander’s side, not quite blocking her light. Had Magnus been hurt trying to protect him?

“I do have optics. Scorching, impact trauma and denta and claw marks add up to Predacon, but the claw spacing and synth shape and size don’t match Predaking. I don’t suppose you got a good look at their alt-modes?” she asked out of vague curiosity, most of her processor focused on her patient.

“Another dragon and one kinda like a big winged cyber-cat. A griffin, I think it’s called on Earth.”

“We’ll have to find them, and quickly,” Bumblebee put in, having just returned from updating Arcee and Bulkhead on the situation. “How’s Magnus?”

“Not good. I can stabilise him, for now, but we need another medic if he’s ever going to recover fully. Call Ratchet in, or let Knock Out out. In or out, I don’t care, just find someone better than me.” She had already begun to fix Magnus’ most severe injuries, but only her centuries of training kept her servos steady. She’d been qualified for less than two stellar-cycles, and had spent rather less time than that in that universe. And Magnus’ wounds were worse than she felt she could handle alone. “In the meantime, clear out and let me deal with this mess.”

Bumblebee and Smokescreen obeyed without a word, and must have chosen Option A. A short while later, Ratchet barged in, medical kit in servo. The two medibots worked side by side, speaking only when necessary, until Magnus was out of danger and heading towards recovery.

“He’ll be all right,” Glitch confirmed, more for her own benefit than for Ratchet’s. “Thanks for coming at such short notice, and – sorry, for calling you in. I suppose I panicked.” Her first case as the team’s primary medic, and she’d dragged Ratchet out of his semi-retirement to help her. Not a good start.

Ratchet’s servo entirely covered hers. “You did the right thing.” She’d seldom heard such gentleness from either Ratchet, that one or her mentor back in Detroit. “You have talent, but a case like this calls for experience you simply haven’t had time to acquire yet. Trying to handle it yourself would have been the height of foolishness.” He smiled down at his junior colleague. “By the way, you did a good job on Smokescreen during the battle. And Optimus, while I was – elsewhere.” Specifically, aboard that very ship and in Decepticon servos. “Thank you for that.”

Glitch blushed in acknowledgement and gratitude. “Just doing my duty. Practically had to blackmail Prime onto the repair table, though. Is he always like that, or was he just worried about you?”

“Oh, he’s been that way as long as I’ve known him, and still has the temerity to lecture me about my Energon intake.” Rightly so. On at least one occasion, Glitch had had to resort to sleight of servo to make sure Ratchet was properly fuelled. He changed the subject with almost unbecoming haste. “Out of interest, how are you getting on with the ship’s systems?”

“Making progress, but Soundwave locked all the data storage up tight. And I’m still tripping a lot of alarm codes. Managed to detach them from the actual alarms, though.”

“Not a moment too soon.” Bumblebee had put his head around the door again. “If either of you can spare some time, we’re having a strategy meeting on the bridge.”

“Go,” Ratchet said. “I’ll stay with Magnus.”

“How’s the commander?” Smokescreen demanded the moment he saw her. He was clearly still beating himself up for letting Magnus be injured.

“With time, and rest, he’ll make a full recovery.” Everybot else visibly relaxed at that. They’d probably have preferred to hold the meeting in med-bay, keeping an optic on the patient and making sure both medics were included, but had respected her preference for peace, quiet and privacy.

As it turned out, the meeting was almost over. Their obvious priority was tracking down the new Predacons, no doubt cloned by the still-elusive Shockwave. Glitch would love to know how he’d managed that in the absence of the Allspark; in her universe, Starscream’s various clones and the Lugnuts Supreme had had to be brought online with tiny Allspark fragments. But the other Starscream had cloned himself as well, without any of that. Interesting…

A question for later, though. Bumblebee had a couple of ideas for places to start looking, and Glitch had something important to say.

“I’m coming with you. Ratchet can hold the fort here; stars know he’s had practice. And given what happened earlier, you may well need a medic soon.”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d come along,” Bumblebee said. “I’ve a feeling the first person I want to ask could already do with your expertise.” Such as it was.

His “feeling” was borne out by the fresh Energon trail the scout soon found and followed to its source – Predaking. The wounded dragon-Predacon did not look happy to see them, and the sentiment was mutual; Arcee, Bulkhead and Smokescreen primed their weapons and Glitch readied her shields as Predaking prepared to flame them all, but Bumblebee chose a very different way to deal with the situation. Negotiation. He handled Predaking magnificently, first bluffing him into standing down with a fake Immobiliser, then politely enquiring about the new Predacons. Unfortunately, Predaking claimed to have no knowledge of them, and Glitch for one believed him. As the others started to leave the mighty warrior to brood over the remains of his forebears in peace, though, she looked up from her medical scanner, indicated the site of his still-leaking wound and asked, “May I?”

Predaking just looked bemused, so she explained herself a little further. “I’m a medic, and you’re hurt. With your permission, I’d like to change that latter state of affairs.”

Predaking studied her for a long moment. “You wear the mark of the accursed Autobots, but you do not smell like them, or like any other Cybertronian. You are different.”

“Too right I am. I’m from another universe, but I have some experience treating Cybertronians of this one. You all bleed the same – Predacon, Autobot, Decepticon or neutral.” She forced herself to meet Predaking’s burning yellow optics. “And believe me, if there’d been a way to save the other clones both from the Wreckers and from slavery to Megatron, I’d have done so. What happened was a tragedy, and I give you my word of honour, it will not be repeated on my watch.”

“You speak truth,” Predaking conceded. “As did the other medic, Ratchet, who may have been the first person to show me and my kind true respect. Very well.” He transformed back into his dragon-form, twisting around to display a long cut along one side, awkward to reach, but relatively simple to repair. She fixed it in a matter of nanokliks – it was sparkling’s play after treating Ultra Magnus – and, once she’d found a fuel line, injected a vial of Energon to replace that which he’d lost, before stepping back into his field of vision and bowing. “Until we meet again, Your Highness.”

“Should that prove necessary, little medic.” She chose not to be offended by that as she turned, transformed and raced away after the others.

She soon caught up with them on the way to Darkmount, Megatron’s former citadel, where Knock Out had apparently claimed they could find a list of Shockwave’s old labs. A modicum of hacking – Glitch was getting used to breaking ‘Con cyphers – proved the Decepticon CMO right.

“Well, whaddaya know,” Bumblebee said as Smokescreen messed around on Megatron’s throne and Bulkhead rebuked him. “Knock Out actually shot straight for once.”

“What’d you have to do, scuff his finish?” Arcee asked. Knock Out was notoriously, ridiculously vain, in contrast to Glitch, who was proud of her scratched servos.

“Close. Now, let’s download the data and get outta here.” Glitch was way ahead of him; she’d set the console up to copy the decrypted files straight to a transfer drive the moment she broke the cypher. Which was just as well; a flier, too small and fast to be Predaking, the wrong shape to be Prime, was headed straight for Darkmount. Nanokliks later, one of the last ‘bots any of the party had expected to see landed right in front of them. He was taller and bulkier than he had been just days before, and his optics and biolights shone purple rather than red, but he was recognisably Megatron.

Until he spoke. Whoever was using King ‘Con’s voicebox, it probably wasn’t its original owner. Megatron liked overdone rhetoric, but “minions of the Prime” was a bit much even for him. And “his” voice had extra harmonics that sent a shiver down Glitch’s backstrut as she readied her combat-capable tools. Why was she so tired all of a sudden?

Soon enough, the situation was made clearer. Megatron wasn’t in control of his body – Unicron was. The Chaos Bringer. Widely regarded as a myth in Glitch’s universe; very real in that one. Wait ‘til I tell Bee about this, she thought drowsily and almost nonsensically.

Somehow, she managed to keep pace with the rest of the team as they ducked and dodged Unicron’s fire, but they were clearly outmatched, and evac via groundbridge would require them to get away from their opponent. You’ve been around me too long, she thought hazily as Bumblebee led them, in vehicle mode, between Megatron’s peds, off a ledge and through a tunnel excavated by his blaster. That was the kind of stunt she usually pulled.

They raced through the abandoned corridors of Darkmount until ‘Cee called a halt, not a moment too soon. Ahead of them, the floor gave way to what looked like a deep pool of molten slag.

“What in blazes is that?” Glitch asked.

“A smelting pit,” Bulkhead told her, clearly not wanting to go into detail.

“For once, I don’t want to know.” Mostly because she could guess. All too easily.

Bumblebee barely had time to call for a groundbridge before a lilac explosion behind them announced Unicron-Megatron’s proximity – and threw them all into the air. Bumblebee and Glitch landed on solid ground, but the others ended up hanging over the smelting pit, a chain of terrified ‘bots.

As Bulkhead fought to keep Arcee and Smokescreen from fiery oblivion, Unicron landed Megatron behind him, shaping a pair of hook-like weapons for himself out of lavender light. While Bumblebee held his attention, Glitch climbed up his back, grateful for once for her small stature, and transformed her right servo into a laser scalpel, intending to sever the electrical connection between his right arm and his CPU. But either her fatigue-addled processor had miscalculated, or Unicron’s upgrades had changed Megatron’s internal structure. Where she expected a shower of sparks, deep purple liquid welled from the incision. Dark Energon, she just had time to realise before everything went black.

***

“What’re we supposed to call him, huh? Megacron? Unitron?”

“Really? That’s your biggest issue right now?” The familiar sound of Smokescreen and Arcee bickering greeted Glitch as she came back online. Somehow, they’d survived and returned to their mobile base.

“Megacron sounds better,” she put in, “but Unitron emphasises the fact that it’s Unicron driving the bus, so to speak. Either would work.”

“You’re awake.” Ratchet sounded more than a little relieved – to someone who knew him well. “How do you feel?”

“A little more stasis wouldn’t hurt, but all systems are nominal.” She’d run a self-diagnostic the nanoklik she returned to consciousness. “What happened?”

“It appears you are hypersensitive to Dark Energon. Simply being in Unicron’s presence may have been enough to weaken you, and exposure to that which flows through Megatron’s system caused almost immediate stasis. You’re lucky to be in such good shape after a fall like that, by the way.”

“I’m tougher than I look. And I did feel tired pretty much as soon as Unitron showed up – as though I’d just pulled three shifts in a row.” Her record was four. Not an experience she planned to repeat. “How did we get back here?”

“Ratchet opened a groundbridge above the smelting pit,” Smokescreen answered. “Just as the floor gave way under Bulkhead. Bee scooped you up and jumped right into it.”

“Bet that annoyed Megacron.” As the others moved on to debate their next move, and tried to contact Prime and Wheeljack, Glitch called up the results of a scan she’d made during the battle with Unitron – and a couple of other files. Fascinating… “Ratchet, would you mind providing a second opinion on something?”

“Not at all.” As Glitch sat up on a makeshift repair table that had been set up on the warship’s bridge, the Autobots’ current HQ, Ratchet seated himself beside her, leaning down to examine her datapad. “What am I looking at?”

“Megatron’s sparkbeat, recorded during his last physical exam. Before you ask, I needed access to the medical files in case any of the Vehicons were injured, and if Knock Out wanted to anonymise these data properly, he probably shouldn’t have called the folder “Big M”.” Ratchet conceded the point with a shred of a laugh. She switched to another file. “This is Unicron’s sparkbeat, pulled from your records of his last awakening. And this is a scan of the being currently walking around in Megatron’s upgraded shell. What do you make of it?”

“It looks as though – Unicron’s sparkbeat has been superimposed onto Megatron’s, somehow.”

“That’s what I thought. I think Megatron’s still alive in there. Maybe he couldn’t join with the Allspark because of Dark Energon shenanigans. Unicron’s in control for now, but Megatron’s pulled a Master at least once before. If we can reach him – maybe he’ll do it again.”

“Pulled a Master?” Glitch really had to stop making references the others wouldn’t get.

“Doctor Who. The Master’s another renegade Time Lord, Megatron to the Doctor’s Optimus, if you like. He wants to conquer the universe, not see or protect it, but occasionally he refuels more than his system can handle and has to team up with the Doctor to save his own circuits.”

“I see what you’re driving at. It might be worth a shot, but don’t pin all your hopes on that. Megatron has a strong will, but Unicron is a god.”

“And human mythology’s full of gods defeating each other, or being beaten or tricked by mortals. But I’ll keep all my options open.” Seeing that the others had stopped trying to contact the away team, she and Ratchet headed over to join them. “Any luck?”

“No response. Maybe they heard us and can’t transmit for some reason; maybe we’re on our own. Either way, we need to figure out why Unicron’s here.”

“And what he wants.” Bumblebee finished Arcee’s sentence.

“To destroy the spark of his arch-enemy, Primus.” Ratchet stated what should have been obvious.

“But that’s the core of our planet!” Yes, Smokescreen, we know.

As ‘Cee complained that the situation was unfair, and Ratchet responded in typically dramatic fashion, Glitch headed over to another console and resumed one of her projects. She had an inkling it, and the ship itself, would be needed very soon.

“In other words, life’s not fair,” she said from beneath the console when Ratchet had finished. “All the more reason to make our own fairness.” Hm. That gave her another, trivial idea.

***

“Crikey O’Reilly!” (Maybe Glitch had spent a little too long researching Earth culture.) “That looks like some seriously bad mojo.” (And a shade too long around Jazz, if that were possible.) Armed with the knowledge that Megatron was in some way still alive, the Autobots had just started tracking down his exact location – only to see an energy spike at the same position. Under the circumstances, probably a type of energy Glitch had encountered for the first time earlier that day, but knew about from the others’ stories. Dark Energon. At the Predacon burial ground. That and Unicron’s presence couldn’t add up to anything good.

Specifically, the most likely summation was an army of reanimated Predacon shells (why not more modern Cybertronians? Because they were more accessible, or more powerful?), heading for the Well of All Sparks to undo all the Autobots’ hard work.

“So what do we do?” Bulkhead asked.

“We put ourselves between Unicron’s army and the Well.” Bumblebee’s strategy was simple and sound. They couldn’t afford to wait for Prime, Wheeljack and the Allspark; they had to act, and the warship was their greatest asset.

“Glitch, you’ve been working on this ship since we took it over,” the newly minted warrior said to the field-tech. She had, especially in the previous few hours. It was better than worrying about the away team, or getting in Ratchet’s way as he monitored Ultra Magnus. “Think you can pilot it?”

“He’s a bit bigger than Moth, and I might have to stand on something to reach the controls, but a ship’s a ship. I’m not touching the weapons, though.” In her reality, no self-respecting Autobot used such things if they could help it.

“I wouldn’t ask you to. Bulkhead, can you be her co-pilot and main gunner?” And ready to take over in the event of further Dark Energon exposure, he carefully didn’t say.

“’Con engineering. User-friendly, right?” Particularly when an Autobot had spent days refining the controls – and adding in a few of her own.

Once Ratchet and Ultra Magnus had been transported to safety on the surface, the remaining ‘bots were soon on their way to intercept Unicron’s horde. Glitch had forgotten how much she enjoyed piloting. She was usually scared of heights, but flying a ship she trusted was fine. It didn’t make much sense, but that was often the way with her anxiety. She might have been a microgram rusty, though.

“Whoa, easy!” Bulkhead reached for the controls as she banked to port a little too sharply, sending crewmembers and loose objects sliding across the deck. “You’re flying a warship, not a cruiser.”

“Sorry.” She levelled out, never taking her optics from the instruments in front of her.

“Primary fusion cannons, null-rays, ion blasters – everything we need to stand a fighting chance against Unicron’s army.” Bumblebee listed off the ship’s complement of death-bringers. Glitch wondered idly what had become of the stasis ray she had seen mentioned in the team’s files. That was much more to her liking. Non-lethal, non-destructive and reversible.

“Should be able to buy a fair amount of time for the others to get here,” she remarked to Bulkhead as Arcee complimented Bumblebee on his leadership skills. “Before our circuits get fried.”

“Ah, c’mon! Where’s that famous optimism?”

“It opted out when I saw the scale of our problem. If Prime and Wheeljack don’t show up in time, the odds of our survival are slim indeed. I can’t calculate the probability that they will, and even if they do we’ll still be outnumbered – but I do like those odds.”

“I guess we can only try,” Bulkhead just had time to say before the most annoying person on the planet arrived on the bridge.

“Autobots!” Starscream, and a squad of Vehicons, levelled missiles and blasters at the crew. “Surrender this warship!” Everyone but Glitch turned to face down the intruders – then stopped short, for reasons she only understood when Screamer boasted that he had the Immobiliser, a device that caused instant, lasting stasis-lock.

“And in case you’re wondering, Smokescreen is in no position to come to your rescue.” Glitch could see Knock Out reflected in the viewport in front of her, wearing Smokescreen’s phase shifter. The young ‘bot had been fetching the Immobiliser and another relic, the Polarity Gauntlet, from the ship’s vaults; he must have been intercepted on the way back.

“Climb down and step away from the console,” Starscream commanded her, “or I’ll freeze you and simply drag you away.” Or, more likely, get one of the Vehicons to move her.

“Either use that thing or put it down,” she countered, digits still flying over the controls. “Waving that glowstick of destiny around just makes you look even more like an idiot.” Starscream wasn’t an idiot, she knew, but that was far from obvious. “But if you do use it and miss, you’re likely to hit this console and drop us all out of the sky. And if your aim is good enough,” she activated one of her custom settings, “good luck flying this ship with the isomorphic lock active.”

“Isomorphic lock?” the bewildered Decepticon asked.

“User recognition system I just finished installing. The controls will only respond to designated pilots. And I couldn’t add you or anyone else to the list and fly at the same time, even if you forced me.”

“Ah, Screamy won’t use the glowstick on any of us,” Bulkhead said from where the Vehicons had herded the other Autobots into the centre of a circle of ‘Cons. “He needs us if he’s gonna stand any chance of surviving Unicron.”

“You misunderstand,” Starscream told him, Glitch forgotten for the moment. “I do not intend to use this warship for battle, but for quickly getting as far away as possible from this doomed planet.” Someone was jumping to conclusions.

“Earth would be nice,” Knock Out commented, “now that Unicron no longer seems to be calling it home.” That particular Decepticon did seem to have a soft spot for that world, or at least its cars.

“Shut up!” Starscream lived up to the second half of his name. “Now, deactivate that lock and move away from those controls, Twitch,” the name’s Glitch, “or get stiff.”

“There’s just one thing you’ve overlooked.” What was Bumblebee playing at? Oh well; at least he might have spared Glitch another round of trying to outsmart Megatron’s most cunning lieutenant. “That device you’re holding? Not the Immobiliser.”

In the viewport, Glitch saw Starscream take a moment too long to figure out whether or not the warrior was bluffing. In that moment, the Autobots counterattacked, taking down the Vehicons within nanokliks. Starscream lunged for Bumblebee, and somehow got the upper servo almost as quickly. “I will silence you forever!”

No! She turned, magnets and EMP generator sliding into place – just in time to see a flawless claw-tipped servo phase through the Seeker’s chest, take the Immobiliser and belt him into stasis with it.

“Now will you believe I’m joining the winning team?” Knock Out asked, still holding the remains of the broken relic.

“Knock Out! We needed that!” Ratchet’s common complaint was as good as a “yes” from Bumblebee.

“Wait – it – really was the Immobiliser?”

“Good riddance, if you ask me.” Glitch turned back to her console, but not before giving Knock Out a friendly smile. She rather liked the other medic, despite herself (and hated the idea of putting anybot in permanent stasis-lock). “And welcome to the team.”

***

“Are we there yet?” Smokescreen asked as he, Arcee and Knock Out returned from locking Starscream up. (And, owing to the deployment of Glitch’s best scraplet eyes, checking him over.)

“We’re right on schedule,” Bulkhead replied.

“And so is Unicron,” Bumblebee added.

“Let’s get his attention, then,” Glitch said, before sending the ship into a steep dive, and Knock Out skidding across the deck, the moment the gunners were in position.

Just one strafing run was enough to draw Unicron’s Terror-Predacons away from the Well – and towards the ship. Glitch should have been terrified, but as a power surge pulsed through her circuits, analogous to a human’s adrenaline rush, all fear was burned away. She didn’t even feel the buzz at the back of her head that distinguished reasonable fear from the product of her cross-wired processor. Twisting, turning, diving, soaring, almost dancing between the undead Predacons like a young, less skilled Hera Syndulla or Powerglide, anchored to her console by the safety straps on her legs usually used by human riders, she even found herself struggling not to laugh.

Not everybot was amused, though. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Knock Out asked, clinging for dear spark to an unused console.

“Oh, relax. I learned from Omega Supreme’s mentor.” Her Ratchet, to be exact, who was also her mentor. Might that make her Omega’s sister in some way? Now that would be weird.

“I’d never have guessed. You fly like a Wrecker,” Bulkhead remarked.

“Thank you.” Coming from one of the last of the black-ops unit, she knew that was a compliment.

At that moment, the conversation was interrupted by a ship-shaking impact, which must have done some serious damage. “One engine is down,” Bulkhead reported. “It can be jump-started, but not without compromising our shields. We don’t have any other spare power.”

“I do.” Glitch had prepared for that possibility. She tore a couple of wires from beneath their console, flipped open a panel on her own forearm and crosslinked the two systems before even she could think twice. “Good grief.”

“You OK?”

“Fine. It’s just – more intense than I expected.” The connection she had forged wasn’t a full gestalt powerlink, like a combiner’s, but it still flooded her processor and frame with sensation. With an ordinary ship, she’d probably have gone into shutdown or meltdown almost immediately. As it was, though, it was a simple matter to direct power from her own systems into the inactive ones, giving them the spark they needed to start up again.

While she was distracted by that, a reanimated Predacon she and Bulkhead hadn’t managed to avoid slammed into a viewport right by Knock Out, who jumped back, yelling, “Zombie-‘Con! Zombie-‘Con!”

Bumblebee and Smokescreen moved in front of him, weapons at the ready, but they needn’t have bothered. A burst of yellow flame incinerated the mobile corpse, and a few others.

“Predacon,” Glitch said to herself with more than a little satisfaction.

But even their new allies couldn’t be everywhere at once. Despite Glitch’s modifications to their shields, despite her tweaking the engine burn to turn even their drive plume into a weapon, the ship started to take critical damage faster than she could compensate for it. They couldn’t stay in the air much longer, but Glitch had one last SD card under her plating. Almost by sheer willpower as much as by using the failing thrusters, she placed the ship directly above a flock of fliers. “Brace for impact!”

The warship dropped like the proverbial stone, its fall cushioned by several squashed Terror-‘Cons, skidded on their spilled fuel, and finally came to rest bare mechanometres from the Well of All Sparks. “Everybot all right?”

“Nothing a little carnauba wax won’t fix up.” Really? That was Knock Out’s priority?

Glitch bit back the sassy remark she wanted to make, focusing on the bigger picture. “I wish I could say the same for the Justice. It’s going to take weeks to get him back in the air.”

“You renamed the Nemesis?”

“Of course. The old name was too negative. Revenge is never good, but justice can be – especially if it’s restorative, not retributive.”

Mercifully, Knock Out chose not to get into that argument, though he did his best to start another one. “I say we leave it here to rust, if we even survive what’s coming.”

“Over my cold, offline shell! This is a Cybertronian we’re talking about here!” Knock Out looked surprised and confused. “You didn’t know?”

“Know what?” Bulkhead asked, still recovering from the crash.

“This isn’t just a ship. He’s a Metrotitan. Trypticon, to be exact. Stasis-locked, but alive. I recognised the general layout and file architecture from my Omega Supreme,” all the Omega Sentinels, really; they had been her sparklinghood obsession, “and did some digging.” That was how she had coped with the powerlink. Even in deep stasis, Trypticon’s mind had shielded hers. She vowed to repay him by bringing him back online.

If she lived, that was. The fight wasn’t anywhere near over, and the greatest danger was yet to come. She disconnected herself from Trypticon, then had to brace herself against her console as her systems registered that she was running on fumes. She’d prepared for that, too, and withdrew a canister of green liquid from a hidden drawer below the controls, consuming the contents in one go and making a face. It tasted worse than boot-camp rations.

“Is that Synth-En?” Knock Out was right to be wary. He’d once been soundly beaten by Ratchet under the influence of an early version of synthetic Energon.

“The stable one, yes. Shockwave didn’t have time to destroy his manufacturing facility, though he locked the controls up tight. I had to ask very nicely just for one dose. But if this doesn’t counter the effects of Dark Energon exposure, nothing will.”

Luckily for her, it did. Even outside the protection of the Justice, with a trail of Dark Energon staining the ground, she was still ready for battle as the Autobots (including one recent defector) lined up in front of the Well, the Predacons – Predaking, another dragon and an ursagryph, easily mistaken for a griffin; Smokescreen had been nearly right – landing behind them, all braced for the fight of their lives.

“Stick close to me,” she said to Knock Out, indicating her shield with one magnet. “Finish protector.”

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?” Knock Out seemed resigned to the fact. “Speaking of finishes, yours could do with quite a bit of work.”

True, but… “Don’t have time. And I’m still surprised you do.”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way. And if we both get out of this alive, at least let me do something about your hands. They’re painful to look at.”

Glitch spared a brief glance for the offending components. Yes, they were scuffed, but she liked them that way. They showed that she worked for a living; that she wasn’t some spoiled upper-class sparkling or privileged academic. If fixing them up would make Knock Out happy, though… “All right. When we survive this.”

Her optimism wasn’t universal; after all, as Bumblebee pointed out, they were the last line of defence for the Well and the planet. Not the safest role in the universe.

“I would recommend leaving that,” Predaking “suggested”, “to those more suited for the task. Skylynx! Darksteel! Allow nothing to enter the Well!”

Without another word from anybot, the three living Predacons transformed back into their alt-modes, leaped over the Autobots’ heads and charged their undead ancestors. Their flames held back the horde of Terror-‘Cons for a little while, but there were just too many of them; Predaking and his new subjects were swept into the Well, still fighting denta and claw to slow the advance of Unicron’s army.

“Really? This is how it ends?” Bulkhead asked in disbelief.

“We’re not losing our planet,” Bumblebee declared. “Not without taking Unicron with it.” One recently reawakened deity sharing a body with a very angry and independent ex-gladiator against seven extremely determined warriors, six of them fighting for a home they had only just regained, the seventh fighting for her friends. One almost had to feel sorry for the Chaos Bringer. Almost.

The power surge that had carried Glitch through the dogfight was fading at last, followed by the Synth-En’s most obvious effects, allowing fear to take up residence in her processor once more. She ignored it with the ease of long practice. She didn’t stop climbing because she was scared of heights, or making friends because she was scared of losing them. And she certainly wouldn’t back down from a battle because she was scared of dying and leaving her loved ones. All the same – that would be a really good time for the away team to show up.

As if on cue, Magnus’ ship (borrowed by Wheeljack), the Iron Will, swept overhead. The relief in Bulkhead’s voice was shared by the whole of the party as he said simply, “Optimus.”

“I never thought I’d be so happy to see that big rig,” Knock Out added.

“Expeditionary fighting vehicle,” Glitch corrected with her volume turned down low. Knock Out clearly didn’t know Prime had scanned a new alt. (Two new alts, technically, but his dinoform was supposed to be a secret.)

Prime himself disembarked from the Iron Will in midair, flying straight for Unicron, but the dark god fired on the bigger target first. A spear of purple light hit the retreating spacecraft right next to one of the engines, knocking it out of the sky.

“’Jackie!” Before anyone could stop him, Bulkhead transformed and drove off to check on his downed joint-best friend. Arcee tried to follow, but Glitch held her back as she and Knock Out exchanged glances. One medic had to go with Bulkhead and one had to stay behind, but which should be which?

“You go,” Knock Out said. “Wheeljack’s not exactly up to speed with recent developments.” He was right; even injured, the reckless Wrecker would probably attack the ex-‘Con on sight.

“Copy that.” Glitch transformed and raced away towards the crash site, sparing as many prayers as she could for all her friends.

By the time she reached the wrecked ship, Bulkhead had already found Wheeljack and was about to try to move him. She hadn’t arrived a moment too soon. As she knelt beside her patient, she kept thinking of Ultra Magnus lying dented and leaking on her repair table, and her inability to save him by herself. This isn’t like that. Ratchet said you have talent, and Wheeljack’s tough. You can do this.

“You’re lucky,” she told the white sports car once her preliminary scan had finished. “Not many ‘bots survive a crash like that with mostly superficial injuries. There’s still some internal damage, though, and you seem to have hit your head pretty hard, so stay off your peds for a while.” To Bulkhead, she added, “We’d better take him and the Allspark outside before this mess gets any worse. But next time, wait for a medic before trying to move a casualty if possible.”

“I’ve been worse,” Wheeljack informed them a little vaguely as they ‘bothandled him out of the ship, the Allspark in its glowing, floating container trailing behind.

“I’d hate to see that,” Glitch shot back before realising that she had – after Wheeljack’s and Magnus’ fight with Predaking that had cost the commander a servo and his signature weapon. Wheeljack hadn’t quite had time to repair the Forge of Solus Prime before setting off to retrieve the Allspark. He’ll have time soon.

Especially with Prime back in the game. The Autobot leader chose that moment to arrive, unharmed and not visibly grieving; the others were probably fine, then, and holding Unicron’s attention.

Wheeljack cut straight to the chase, as befitted a sports car. “So, how’re we gonna get that thing to safety?” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the Allspark.

“By the only means available to us,” Prime replied, “under these most dire of circumstances. The very survival of our species on this or any other world depends upon it.” He outlined his plan; Glitch calculated that it would almost certainly work, and the bait-and-switch element appealed to her, but her spark dimmed to a flicker as she realised what the consequences would probably be, and when he met her optics and gave her a barely perceptible nod, it was practically a single photon.

Nobot else had any better ideas, though, and Prime’s plan didn’t need her, so as he and the Allspark flew back to the Well, she concentrated on things she could do. Fixing Wheeljack and returning to the others.

They got there just in time to see Unicron pry the Allspark’s container from Prime’s servos, having shot him out of the air. “I shall devour your Allspark whole!”

Quite the reverse, as he realised when he opened the container. “What? A trick!” They were the last words he spoke in Megatron’s body; the vessel forged for the source of Cybertronian life, emptied of its former contents, pulled his “anti-spark” out of his stolen shell and sealed it away, hopefully for good. Nanokliks later, a fusillade of explosions echoed up from deep in the Well, indicating that Unicron’s Terror-‘Cons couldn’t “survive” without him. The planet was safe at last.

Megatron’s frame had crashed to the ground as Unicron left it, but as Prime began to explain what had happened to the other Autobots, and Starscream (must have escaped in our crash) turned up like the proverbial bad shanix, he started to get up again, his optics a familiar red once more (though his biolights remained purple). Starscream heaped praise on his master, sounding rather like his alternate’s sycophantic clone, but Megatron’s reaction was somewhat unexpected. When his SIC referred to ruling Cybertron, Megatron refused. Quite forcefully.

“Because I now know the true meaning of oppression,” he said when asked why, after exchanging a long glance with his former friend Prime, “and have thus lost my taste for inflicting it.”

Starscream tried to bluster his way back to familiar ground (or air), but Megatron was having none of that. “The Decepticons are no more, and that – is – final.”

“A sensible Megatron,” Glitch remarked. “Wonders really will never cease.”

Megatron’s optics eventually sought her out, standing in the shade of the Wreckers. “Ah, the visitor from another universe. Tell me, what became of my counterpart in your reality?”

“Last I heard, he was still in prison, having been defeated and captured – by a maintenance crew.” And a few friends of theirs, but she chose to keep things simple.

“A maintenance-?” Megatron stared at her in disbelief for an uncomfortable moment. Then he threw back his head, and a sound rang out that had not been heard from the warlord in many, many stellar-cycles. Great peals of pure, genuine, joyful, sparkfelt laughter.

***

Once again, the Autobots (including Knock Out) gathered under Cybertron’s sun, this time at the edge of the Well of All Sparks. Once again, Prime was making a speech. And once again, it was a bittersweet occasion, though only two people knew why. Unicron was imprisoned, his army had disintegrated, Megatron, Starscream and the Predacons were literally in the wind and Shockwave wouldn’t try anything until the odds were in his favour. Only Prime and Glitch were aware of or suspected the full cost of that victory, though the former was about to change that.

“In order to both protect the Allspark,” he began, “and secure Unicron’s defeat, it was necessary for me to empty the vessel’s contents.”

“Into where?” Bumblebee asked.

“The Matrix of Leadership.” The repository of the wisdom of all past Primes, housed in the current Prime’s spark chamber. Not wholly unlike another Matrix in Glitch’s favourite television programme, she thought, trying desperately to distract herself from what she knew was coming. “As such, my own spark can no longer be separated from the multitude of others within me.” There it was.

“Are you telling us,” Ratchet now also knew what Prime had to do, “that you are now – one with the Allspark?”

“Heh, that’s what you say when someone kicks… the…” Smokescreen’s voice trailed away as he came to the same conclusion.

“Exactly,” Glitch said, her voice already heavy with sorrow.

Smokescreen rounded on her, suddenly furious. “You knew? And you didn’t say anything?”

“It’s not something one drops into casual conversation. And – I hoped, for once, I was wrong. But after what happened to Prowl – I’m just surprised it’s taken this long.” Her predecessor back in Detroit had donated his own spark to complete a partially reassembled Allspark, which had killed him instantly.

“To not return the Allspark to the Well,” Prime managed to get them back on track, “would be to prevent future generations of new life from existing on Cybertron.” Which, after everything they’d gone through, was unthinkable. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. “My quest must be completed.”

“Optimus,” Ratchet objected, “I didn’t return to Cybertron to save a life only to lose the one I care most about.” Glitch hadn’t even considered the effect on her colleague of losing his Amica. She resolved to be there for him, as much as he and her processor allowed, for as long as he needed her.

“Ratchet’s restored planets!” Bulkhead pointed out. “He’ll find a way to save you!”

“We can turn to Vector Sigma, just like we did before,” Arcee chimed in.

Prime was immovable. “Because the Matrix must now be relinquished with the Allspark, it cannot be restored, or passed down to another. But while this may very well mark the end of the Age of Primes, leadership can be earned with or without the Matrix.” Too right. There was no such thing in Glitch’s universe, to her knowledge, but Cybertron still functioned – mostly. Her own Optimus Prime had no ancient relic on which to call, but was growing into a great leader nonetheless. “And in my view, you have each acted as a Prime.” Steady on!

As his gaze fell on Knock Out, the medibot managed a self-deprecating, “Well, I never really had the best role models.”

“You have them now,” Glitch told him, her optics sweeping across the assembly. Three fierce warriors, three loyal and brave Wreckers, one dedicated doctor – and, of course, the leader who had stood by his people through thick and thin, fighting side by side with them, caring for each and every one.

“As even Megatron has demonstrated on this day,” Prime continued, “every sentient being possesses the capacity for change.” He turned away, towards the Well, activating the stabilisers on his jetpack – then turned back to say one last thing. “I ask only this of you, fellow Autobots.” Yes, that includes you, a brief glance at Knock Out seemed to say. “Keep fighting the noblest of fights.”

“You can count on us to keep the peace.” Bumblebee spoke for all of them, as he so often had since regaining his voice.

Reassured, Prime turned away again and flew high into the air, before letting himself fall directly into the Well. Every optic remained fixed on the shortcut to Primus even after he had vanished and every ‘bot there heard his voice once more – over comms, or in their heads? It was impossible to tell. “Above all, do not lament my absence, for in my spark I know that this is not the end, but merely a new beginning. Simply put, another transformation.”

Just go forward in all your beliefs, and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine, Glitch thought as she and her friends watched a multicoloured multitude of sparks rise from the Well. But the words of an even older, even wiser character than the Doctor felt more appropriate. I will not say: do not weep, for not all tears are an evil. She couldn’t cry, but at such times she often wished she could.

For the others’ sake, though, she kept it together until she was in the privacy of her tiny room on the Justice, had put some music on (a human piece, Elgar’s magnificent setting of Newman’s poem The Dream of Gerontius, describing a soul’s journey to the Christian afterlife) and had fired up her terminal (a faithful-as-possible copy of the ones she had left behind in Nevada and Detroit and on her Cybertron) to pour her feelings out into her own music. Before she could make a start, however, a file caught her optic. It hadn’t been there before, and was entitled, “For Glitch.”

She ran a virus scan (one can never be too careful), then opened it. It was a text file, written in an old Cybertronian dialect, laid out like poetry or song lyrics. From the little she understood, she knew they would fit her nearly-finished “Song for Cybertron” perfectly. They captured not just the joy of finally seeing the planet restored and Cybertron’s intrinsic beauty, but also the long aeons of conflict and darkness that preceded that restoration, and the countless Cybertronians who would never see it, those whose shells still lay beneath their world’s new surface and those who had fallen far away. All of them, regardless of faction. Skyquake, Dreadwing and Breakdown would be remembered, just like Tailgate, Cliffjumper and Seaspray. All Cybertronians bled the same – within one universe, at least.

The lyrics were simply signed “OP”. Optimus Prime or Orion Pax? she wondered. The firebrand archivist or the gentle general? And did it matter? They were aspects of the same person, the same spark under different armour. She had fought alongside Optimus Prime, and talked late into the night with Orion Pax. She knew she would miss all of him, whatever he – or she – might want.

When had he written them? According to the file’s embedded metadata, it had been created after Bumblebee’s warrior ceremony, most likely after Prime and Wheeljack left Cybertron, and added to her terminal while she was helping transport Ultra Magnus to the Well. With so much else to worry about, he had taken the time to set words to her music – having first got hold of her draft, somehow. Ratchet had access to all her files, and would do a great deal for his Amica; he’d probably copied it at some point after she casually mentioned that she was writing a song that was crying out for words she couldn’t give it. Prime had obliged – as a farewell gift, it had turned out. “Stars, Orion…”

As the great baritone Bryn Terfel thundered out, “Proficiscere, anima Christiana” – an ancient prayer over the dying – she finally opened her composition software and began a new piece. One that would tell the story of a young ‘bot who dared to look beyond the limits set for him, to dream of a better world, and to work with – not merely for – the oppressed in his unjust society, using his higher status to help them where he could. Who humbly accepted rank and responsibility for the sake of his people. Who, when war came despite his best efforts, knew the names and stories of all his Autobots, and regretted every death, even those of enemy soldiers. Who stayed kind and hopeful even in exile, ceaselessly protecting the organics on his new homeworld – and exacting retribution when one of those in his special care was hurt. Who would tear off a Decepticon’s door to save a human he didn’t know, and give up most of his memory for a planet not his own. Who had remained an Autobot at spark, even when tricked into believing he was a Decepticon. Who had, at last, sacrificed that spark for his renewed world, and whose legacy lived on in the people whose sparks and hearts he had touched.

Though he had told them not to mourn, her spark didn’t even listen to her processor at times, let alone to anyone else. She did grieve for him and the hole he’d left in so many lives, and the piece reflected that. A lament for the last Prime.

#transformers prime #transformers animated #fanfic #tfp optimus prime #autobot oc #tfp wheeljack #tfp arcee #tfp bumblebee #tfp bulkhead #tfp smokescreen #tfp ratchet #tfp knockout #tfp starscream #predaking #tfp unicron #tfp megatron #misplaced medic au

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fandom-blackhole · 1 year

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No, ok its been almost 24 hrs since I watched episode 5 of The Last of Us and I really can't stop thinking about it. SPOILERS

Like can you imagine living in and growing up in a QZ that is notorious around the country for having some of the lowest of the low FEDRA soldiers, ones that are known to dish out harsh and cruel punishments, who rape and murder for little reason. Then you find a bit of hope in a man running a resistance, who's trying to make the QZ a better, safer place for the people, someone you find that you can look to, a good leader. But oh no, suddenly your younger brother, who already has a disability that limits him greatly in the world you live in, suddenly has leukemia and the only way you can get medicine that will help him is if you trade someone else's life for his own. Imagine having to grapple with that guilt, with having to make yourself decide between your only family left and a man you see as one of the few good ones left, and ultimately deciding to save your brother. And it works, your brother is safe, healed and no longer sick, but now you're hated by pretty much everybody. So when shit goes down and the resistance led by the man's sister takes over, you know you have to leave because once again, you're brother's life is in danger, so you do whatever you have too, including going into tunnels that are known to have infected and recruit a man you've never met but can tell is very dangerous just from what you've seen. And well things go well, you get through the tunnels without fighting any infected, you've heard your brother laugh and seen him have fun for the first time in who knows how long, things are looking up. But boom, everything goes to shit in a blink of an eye, a whole army shows up lead by the sister, you beg for her to let your brother go and she just sneers about kids dying everyday and that maybe he was meant to die. And welp, boom again, shit gets worse and he'll pretty much unleashes before your eyes and you watch as the infected start taking down everyone around you. But you do make it out, some how unscathed and you feel like the luckiest man on the planet, your brother is here, alive and happy, you get an offer to go to Wyoming with the man that you've teamed up with, everything feels like its gonna be okay for the first time since ever.....what you don't expect is the next morning to wake up to your brother trying to claw and bite at the girl you'd been traveling with, the girl he'd made friends with. You don't expect things to happen so fast and to act on instinct as you shoot your only family, your only reason to keep pushing for better. The kid you've raised and loved and cherished and fought to save time and time again in what felt like a constant uphill battle. You never expected this. You thought you were safe, that HE was safe. What was it all? Nothing? Every decision, every hard choice, every sacrifice for this to be the way he went.....

Idk, just as someone with 2 younger sisters that I played a big role in raising and trying to protect, I can relate to Henry....and I know that I too wouldn't be able to go on if that happened to me, especially if it was by my hand.....

#sorry for the long post #i just have alot of thoughts #like i cant imagine going through the apocalypse and dealing w/ a family member getting cancer #and doing something ik will eat at me for the rest of my days to heal them #but i do it and they do heal #but only for them to turn #only for everything to seem null and void #like the universe shrugged and said he wasnt meant to go on #he wasnt meant to survive #your decisions were for nothing #ugh their story killed me in the games and in the show it ripped my heart out and is watching me bleed #anyway ill stop now #tlou #the last of us #sam and henry #henry and sam #sam tlou #henry tlou #tlou spoilers

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lilsciencequeen · 1 year

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What if this storm ends? (And I don't see you)

There was something holy about it, as though he were a fallen angel, a sacrifice to the gods and his only saving grace, his only hope at survival being Eddie. He began to run, regardless of the danger that he was putting himself in because his mind only had one thought and one thought only. Buck.

// 6x10 Speculation

Read Below or on AO3

“Buck!” The one word ripped from his throat as he watched the bolt of lightning strike the truck. As he watched the electricity light up the ladder and send Buck flying backwards before plummeting towards the earth until the harness jerked violently.

Leaving Buck hanging there, motionless.

There was something holy about it, as though he were a fallen angel, a sacrifice to the gods and his only saving grace, his only hope at survival being Eddie.

He began to run, regardless of the danger that he was putting himself in because his mind only had one thought and one thought only.

Buck.

He continued to hang there meters above the ground as the rain continued to fall, lightning continuing to strike the ground with every step forward that Eddie took and despite how horrific it was, how haunting it was, he continued to run.

It was the only thing that he could do.

But he never made it far.

Something - no someone - was trying to hold him back.

Bobby.

The fire captain had wrapped one arm around Eddie’s chest and was holding him back and despite how much the younger firemen begged and pleaded and fought, Bobby wouldn’t let go.

“He needs help,” Eddie all but spat out through gritted teeth as Bobby moved on from not just restraining him but pulling him back to safety. “He needs my help.”

“And he’ll get help. The specialist team will get him down and get him the treatment that he needs. But we can’t risk anyone else getting injured. Not tonight.” Bobby’s words were firm, fair and fatherly the logical part of Eddie’s brain tried to tell him. But now wasn’t the time to listen to that part of his brain.

No, the manic panicked instinctual part of his brain was the one he needed to listen to. It was acting on instinct, pure adrenaline but it was the part that could -would- save Buck.

It was telling him to get to Buck, to do all that he could to help Buck but he found that he couldn’t. Bobby was too strong for him.

As the world around him continued to come alive, other houses running towards the ladder truck that belonged to the 118, Eddie found that Bobby continued to pull him away, back to safety, back to Athena's patrol car (the sergeant having arrived earlier to assist with crowd control as a few social media fanatics were getting too close to the scene, hoping to capture the perfect shot to share to their Instagram feed).

He found himself being lowered into the backseat, Bobby's actions gentle and firm at the same time and despite one last ditch attempt at standing up, and trying to push past Bobby, he found himself blocked off from the scene.

Hen and Chimney had begun to fuss over him; taking his heart rate, wrapping him in a blanket and talking slowly and gently to him. Asking him if he were okay (how could he be when Buck was lying there, unable to do anything) and t hey ignored his pleas that he needed to help. Every time he tried to lean out around, or stand up to look over their shoulders to get a better idea of what was happening, they directed his attention back to them.

Soon afterwards, Hen drifted over to speak to Bobby, Athena joining them not long afterwards, their heads bowed close together and he figured they were probably speaking about him, but he wasn’t paying attention, not anymore.

No, his focus was on the spot where Buck had been. Though Chimney was still blocking his way, he could now see that Buck had now been lowered to safety (if being down here could be classed as safe), and receiving the medical treatment he desperately needed, a group of paramedics from another house working on him.

Though barely audible above the rolls of the thunder and the roar of the fires, he could hear their shouts of them. Asking for equipment. Asking for more help.

It was bad.

It was very bad,

Eddie's own mind was racing a million miles an hour as he thought back to his army medic days. As he remembered just what could happen when you were struck by lightning.

Burns.

Broken bones.

Seizures.

Cardiac arrest.

“Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.” Someone was calling his name repeatedly, and as he dragged himself from the darkest recesses of his mind, he focused and saw who it was.

Bobby was kneeling in front of him now so that the only place he could look and could focus was the captain himself and not the horror film that was happening across the parking lot.

“I need you to listen to me. I’m taking you off this call. You’re not fit to be on it…”

“No.” He refused to go anywhere without Buck, without knowing what was going to happen. He knew how dangerous lightning was, and just how critical this time was (cardiac arrest, his brain provided yet again, was dangerous, for every minute a patient stays in cardiac arrest, their chances of survival drop by roughly 10%). Yes, the team helping Buck (still lying on the ground, still in so much danger) was qualified. But he should be helping. He shouldn’t be sitting in the back of the patrol car when he could be helping to save his… Buck.

“That’s not a request but an order. I’m going to ask Captain Mehta what’s happening, and what hospital he’s being sent to and Athena will take you there whilst I and the rest of the team finish up here. Then we’ll come and join you there, okay.”

Unable to believe just what Bobby had said, Eddie stared at him. Finish up here ? What exactly did Bobby mean by that? Were the others going to stay here when Buck could be dying?

No, not dying. He couldn’t consider that. He couldn’t even think that. Because Buck… Buck couldn’t die.

A life without Buck… it wasn’t worth thinking about.

"Eddie, listen to me." Bobby's words were growing sterner as if he were done playing games. As if Eddie were nothing more than a moody teen throwing a tantrum because he didn't get his own way.

But this wasn't a game. Not to Eddie.

"We need to sign off from this scene and take the equipment back to the house so the others can relieve us from duty. But you're going with Athena. She'll take you up there and then we'll come and wait with you. We're not leaving him, okay? This team is a family and I intend on keeping it that way."

Over Bobby's shoulder, he could see a stretcher being loaded into an ambulance, the doors slamming as the sirens started to fill the air. He watched as it drove away, taking Buck away from him and all he could do was nod.

It was six hours later, in the early hours of the morning he found himself finally leaving the waiting room, finally seeing Buck.

Maddie had just returned from his room and dropped into the seat next to Eddie.

"You can see him now." Her voice was empty, her eyes red. It seemed as though she had no more tears left to cry, her emotions spent. "He'd want you to see him."

"Are you?" he started to ask, not wanting to intrude on an intimate family moment. But Maddie nodded, placing a reassuring hand on his knee. The two of them had never spent much time together. But this night they had held and comforted each other as they waited for news.

Maddie and Buck’s parents had arrived in LA the three days before, the reason why was still unknown and there had been a noticeable change in Buck. He was more on edge, eager to get away from them and to spend all the time he could with Eddie and Chris. He called them safety, a refuge and Eddie had been more than willing to open his door to Buck.

He would always open the door to Buck.

"You're more of a family to him than they are. You should see him first." The statement was all that he needed from Buck's sister.

So on legs that were threatening to give way, he made his way down the corridor, down to Buck’s room.

It took him nearly five minutes to find the courage to open the door, his hand just resting on the handle. But after swallowing bile and taking a breath that didn't help soothe his racing heart or aching lungs, he opened the door and took in the scene.

Took in Buck lying on the bed.

Comatose.

He had hoped that opening the door would have done something, would have awoken Buck like this were a fairy tale.

But not. This was real life. Where things weren't easy. Where a happy ending wasn't guaranteed. And where Buck, his best friend (though the word hardly seemed adequate, hardly seemed enough to describe the bond they shared) was lying there, fighting for his life.

It was a cruel twist of fate. It hadn't even been two years ago when the roles had been reversed, when it had been him lying in the bed, unconscious after a sniper had nearly killed him.

And now Buck was lying here, fighting for his life.

Because he had died last night.

Evan Buckley's heart had stopped beating for two minutes and twenty-seven seconds.

When the doctor had briefed them earlier, she had warned them that they weren't sure yet what the long-lasting effects would be on Buck if he woke up.

If.

That word had haunted him since, in the hours he sat there waiting.

If Buck had survived the surgery.

If Buck would wake up.

If Buck loved him the way he loved Buck.

The thoughts had floated around in his mind as he sat there, accepting that bitter coffee you get only in hospitals that the 118 had kept getting for him. Not that he drank it anyway, no he just let them go cold in his hand before accepting a new one, someone taking away and binning the old one.

Waiting had seemed worse at first, the thoughts of the unknown but seeing him lying there was somehow worse.

Someone who was so full of life.

Someone who wanted nothing more than to help people and who seemed excited by even the simple things in life shouldn't be this quiet.

This small.

This alone.

Making his way across the room slowly, the only noise was his boot falls and the steady sound of machinery showing that Buck was still fighting, he collapsed into the seat beside the bed.

"Please Evan," he whispered, taking Buck’s hand ever so gently in his own and kissing the back of his knuckles. "Come back to me."

#eddie díaz #evan buckley #buddie #otp: buddie #buddie fanfic #buddie 911 #buck and eddie #buck eddie #buck x eddie #911 fandom #911 fanfic #9 1 1 #tv: 911 #evan buck buckley #buck

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random-imagines-blog · 2 years

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Imagine trying to keep the Upside Down a secret from your boyfriend, Eddie.

Hesitation took over your life a lot - you were always pausing to take a breath before plunging into things, whether it was joining the swim team like your brother Steve, finally accepting a date from the guy that you’ve had a crush on for ages, or even starting on the term paper that was going to be a large part of your grade. A part of you needed that moment to try to take control, since you were a bit of a freak that way, but another part wished you could just fling yourself into things the way your brother did, with confidence even if it was absolutely insane.

So you hesitated on telling Eddie anything about the Upside-down that you and your brother and the Byers and the Wheelers had fought more than once now. When the monster was defeated and Hopper was gone and Eddie freaked out because you had to tell him you’d been at the mall during the fire to try to explain your injuries, Steve’s injuries. It wasn’t supposed to come back so why scare him, why torment him with what really happened just for him to worry about what was supposed to be nothing?

Eddie found out the even harder way. You should have known something was going to happen, you’d been having an odd feeling for the last couple of days. When Eds said that he was selling to Chrissy, you went along so that she might feel a little more safe, since your boyfriend could be an intimidating guy, though she didn’t seem that worried. The rest, they say, is history.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the FUCK!” Eddie was yelling when you, Dustin, Nancy, Steve, Max and Robin finally broke down and told him the truth. “That’s what you’ve been hiding? I thought you might have cheated on me or something, you were acting so fucking weird.”

“Really?” You yelled back, crossing your arms in front of you. “You thought that I would cheat on you?”

“Well how was I supposed to guess that it was some real fucking monster from some place called the Upside-Down? Fuck!”

“Okay, you need to take it down a notch,” Steve interfered. You rolled your eyes. The big brother. The perfect one. Always putting himself in charge. “And we need to come up with a plan for this.”

Eddie the Banished. More like Eddie the Rockstar. When everything was going on, and he dedicated that song to Chrissy, your heart had leaped into your throat. You both felt a lot of guilt over what happened to the girl. You should have been watching, you should have figured out a way to help, something, anything. But he was getting his revenge. You, Dustin and Eddie were taking down these motherfucking bats, swinging away. You made yourself a bat like Steve’s, which he rubbed in your face obviously but you had to admit, it was a good design. It got the little buggers trapped too, they’d be stuck and you used their weight to take even more down.

But the adrenaline that you felt in the upside down was nothing compared to the relief that you felt when you were all back home. When you fell back onto the mattress in Eddie’s trailer with everyone safe and sound, except for some cuts and bruises. Even when Hawkins was falling into an apocalyptic wasteland, Eleven, Will and Jonathan were back from California, and you hugged them all. You had a special place in your heart for Eleven, since she saved your life in the mall, a special place for Will because of everything he went through and he was still so strong. And Max - when you finally saw her again, you hugged that redheaded girl that you saw so often in the trailerpark close. You could have lost it all. Instead - the city was the biggest loss of all. But that was a sacrifice worth making. You held tight onto Eddie’s hand, still carrying the bat that you refused to let out of your sight from now on in the other, ready to face the final chapter of what Hawkins Hell might come next.

Requested by: @rachelcarroll1819

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson imagines #Stranger Things #Stranger Things imagines #x reader #imagines #request #eddiem

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razor-dragon · 2 years

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The Hunt Part.4

Note: You asked for it, and after a very long break, I delivered. Hope you all enjoy. Part 4, “Team Bonding”.

Warnings: safe vore, death mention, implied death/ digestion (none really happen), sorta willing and unwilling prey, a bit of DNF, swearing, and I think that’s all. Tell me if I need to add more.

“So... when did you figure out you could do this?” Sapnap asked. George closed the chest he was looting and stared silently at Sapnap, trying not to crack a smile. Dream didn’t even hear the question, he was busy trying to gather an army of wolves. George turned back to the chest and continued to loot it. Sapnap and Bad looked at each other. They had been prying at George for about 30 minutes, but George wouldn’t speak to them.

After a moment, George closed the chest again. He gave the two some of the stuff he had taken, because they weren’t even worried about winning the game. They just wanted to know about what they had seen last time. “George, come on. We want to know,” Bad tried, yet again, George just stared silently before walking past the two and out of the house.

He felt the communicator buzz. George took it out and checked it. On his screen was a private message from Dream “Are they even making advancements? Or are they just worried about what they saw?” He blocked out the noise of the two rambling on and replied to Dream “No, I’m working by myself. I have a feeling that with me one time more than you, and their lack of work is going to make this game go sideways.” Only now does George realize his teammates are reading over his shoulder. “So you do know what we are talking about, you’re just avoiding it,” Sapnap pries. George cracks a small smile and continues on his way.

...

After what felt like forever, they had made it to the Nether. Dream had slacked a bit for George, to make it at least somewhat fair, because Sapnap and Bad wouldn’t give up till they got what they wanted. Finally, George feels his communicator buzz. He checks it to see another message from Dream and hides the screen from the other two “I wasn’t gunna tell you this, but I have the potion. I can give them what their asking for”. The thought lingered in his head a moment, then he slightly chuckled to himself and replied “Go for it”.

It was an evil plan to say the least, but if the two wouldn’t shut up, he would gladly sacrifice his items to show them exactly what they’ve been asking about. It didn’t take long for Dream to show up to the Nether. George pretended it was no big deal, and just gathered blaze rods. George heard the slight sound of a footstep and smirked a bit to himself. He’s not even fazed when he hears the surprised shrieks of his teammates as glass shatters on the ground.

George shuts his eyes tight as his body compresses down. He only opens them when he’s snatched up. He sees his masked boyfriend in front of him, and he feels his teammates pressed against his back. Sapnap and Bad’s breathing picks up, obviously panicked. George just stays still, almost amused by the situation at this point. Dream reaches up with his free hand and moves his mask to the side “You keep nagging about it, so you’re getting a front row seat,” and with that, Dream puts the hunters in his mouth.

“What the muffin?!” Bad yells out in a panic. Sapnap was quiet but banged on Dream’s teeth in an attempt to escape. Bad brought out a torch and let up the mouth. He sees Sapnap panicking at the front of the mouth, George laying comfortably on the tongue, and Bad personally was to the side but not too close to the teeth. Dream’s tongue shifted and licked at all of them. Sapnap and Bad didn’t like it at all, but George didn’t seem to mind.

After a bit, Sapnap and Bad were pinned to the side of the mouth while George remained in place. Gravity shifted, and George made to move to fight back as he was dragged down the throat. Then Sapnap was taken to the middle, the same thing happened but Sapnap fought, hard. Then Bad joined them. When Bad’s journey ended, he fell right on top of someone. “Get off,” Sapnap complained, and Bad scrambled off him.

“Nice of you two to join me,” said George sounding amused. “What the hell, George. Get us out of here!” Sapnap yelled towards the direction he heard his friend’s voice. A light sizzling sound caught both Sapnap and Bad’s attention, making their hearts skip a beat. “Only one way out,” George replied. You could practically hear him smirking. Then they heard the sound of someone taking damage, then their communicators vibrated. George died.

Both the hunters groaned then reached out and touched the acid. They were insta-killed, and their vision went dark. After a moment, they sat up on the bed where they had set their spawn point. Both hunters looked at each other, then at George who was leaning against the wall by the door looking proud of himself. Then he says into the communicator “Thanks for giving me my team back Dream”. “No problem,” Dream replies with a slight chuckle. George grabs the extra gear he had put in the chest and distributed it among the three of them, then left to go after Dream.

The two stunned hunters sat on the bed with the gear sitting in their inventory, neither of them being able to wrap their heads around what had just happened. George on the other hand was making his was towards Dream, according to his compass. George pulled out his communicator and opened his private messages with Dream “You owe me cuddles now”. The sound of light chuckling came over the communicator, then Dream typed back “You’re clingy, you know that? I love that about you though. Alright, cuddles it is.” And with that, the game stretched on.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #human!dream #tiny!badboyhalo #tiny!george #tiny!sapnap #tw vore mention #tw vore #shrink/grow #alternative reality #minecraft #dnf #dreamnotfound #safe vore

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its-deputy-caleb · 2 years

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Found Family — El Tigre & Reader

a request from ao3 for like adoptive dad vibes from el tigre and a reader. this is just wholesome platonic found family vibes with one of my fav characters so pls enjoy !!

When the FND chased you off the main road, firing shots until they lost sight of you in the dense canopies, you thought for sure you weren’t making it out alive.

As a civilian, you were just trying to cross through a military checkpoint when they began firing on some of the people a few cars ahead of you. Without much thought you’d left all your belongings in your 1951 blue Tecumseh Brave as you bolted for safety.

Of course, that meant safety from soldiers and now unarmed you wandered through the jungle of Sierra Perdida aimlessly in search of safety away from any jaguars and other unwanted predators.

Hours after walking across Gurrellia paths and patches and jungle, you came across a man who called himself El Tigre, offering you a canister of water and some protection whilst you rested and caught your breath.

When it became clear to him that you had no where else to go and had no belongings, he offered to take you back to Patriotas Peak Camp to stay with the Legends of ’67.

You don’t settle in straight away, but El Tigre lends you a blanket so you don’t freeze on the mountain’s peak and is always there whenever you need something.

There have been numerous occasions where he’s bickered with some of the other legends who are more reluctant to change and give you a hard time for being an outsider who is apparently ‘intruding’.

Each time El Tigre is there to advocate for you, personally announcing that he enjoys your company and you’re a valuable member of the camp.

You mostly stick to his side for the first few months, not that he minds one bit and the two of you help out around the camp.

Together you both sort through repurposed ammunition, prepare food and carry cargo crates and shipments. El Tigre is ridiculously strong so he’s the one doing the majority of the heavy lifting.

As the two of you work aimlessly, you both have long chats about your lives. Sometimes El Tigre tells you about his life as a legend, the sacrifices he made but also the badass battles he fought in whilst other times you tell him about your life growing up in the farms in the North of Conuco.

Sometimes painful family memories of the FND raiding your family farms and the general traumas of living under a dictatorship come to the conversation but El Tigre always squeezes your shoulder and draws you in for a suffocating (but affectionate) bear hug.

Naturally, you both don’t just do chores all the time and El Tigre obviously teaches you some of the tips he’s learnt as a legend.

He can still beat you in an arm wrestle but he tells you all there is to know about navigating the guerrilla paths he created all the way back in ’67 alongside the other legends. He shows you the art of resolver and how to defend yourself against the FND and any predators you could find out there.

Apart of you is scared El Tigre is training you so he can eventually ask you to leave and let you fend for yourself but he never fails to promise you that he’ll stand beside you and protect you even long after you’ve learnt to defend yourself. And he never fails to tell you how much of a legend you’ve become and how you deserve to be here in the next revolution against Castillo.

Going out on missions with El Tigre and the Guerrillas is liberating as you have a new purpose to fight for and in some way you start to see yourself as a guerrilla like the rest of your newfound family.

There’s lots of small operations, helping with securing resources, escorting captured FND officers to secure safe houses, destroying PG-240X containers and shipments until you finally work up to your big day of helping get back Karlito.

You’re right by El Tigre’s side as the two of you along with Dani Rojas and a team of Guerrillas all secure the area and take out alarms.

As an alarm was triggered and the soldiers stared firing back and triggering flares to bring reinforcements, El Tigre made sure to keep an extra close eye on you as choppers and surrounding cars started circling the museum.

It wasn’t until you saw two heavily armed soldiers sneak up on El Tigre did you act quickly, taking one out with armour piercing ammo and knocking the other with the blunt end of your rifle.

That’s who you earned the nickname Bebé Tigre as he realised you’re looking out for him as much as he is you, and that the two of you are family.

Once Karlito was returned to the safety of the mountain base and the museum was secured with the guerrillas, El Tigre showed you around the exhibits, exposing the lies of Castillo and showing you all the photos and relics to match the countless stories he’s told you.

Eventually, the other legends slowly open up to you. Lucky and Lorenzo become more than loving and open to you as you find a home amongst the legends but none of them match the way El Tigre has taken you under his wing and given you a home and purpose in life.

#its bebe tigre hours #found family #fc6 #far cry 6 #far cry #el tigre #el tigre fc6 #jorge 'el tigre' agulia #lorenzo canseco #lorenzo fc6 #lucky mama #dani rojas #fc6 writing #fc6 headcannons

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fidelissimi-moved · 1 year

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@unbearablyindifferent said: ➹ + Alex Wolff

send me a ➹ and a fc ;; i'll create a character on the spot !!!

Name: Aaron Roth Occupation: IT tech, single father Status: Deceased

Not a lot of people would believe that Ruby wasn't joking when she said Lilith had a taste for baby flesh. An acquired taste over the millenia, was Ruby's guess, but that meant when she was hungry someone had to take one for the team and snatch a little one for the sacrifice. Ruby didn't enjoy being a baby snatcher, but she couldn't disobey Lilith or she'd be sent right back to hell, and she was already so far in her original mission that it was easier just to do her bidding and get it over with. Enter Aaron, and his brand new one month old baby girl. He wasn't really cut out to be a dad but when baby momma took off with her new boyfriend he wasn't left much choice. And he fought hard, to keep her safe, but let's face it... any demon would have the upper hand. When Ruby left he was nothing more than a stain on the floor (and walls, and windows) in his little girl's nursery, and Ruby bundled up the little one to deliver to Lilith before disappearing for longer stretches of time so she wouldn't have to do it again.

#yes i'm connecting all of these to ruby in some way #cannibalism tw #i guess is the right tag #maybe not #baby eating tw #honestly this guy's face just pissed ruby off the instant we looked him up #and she was like 'hes gotta go'

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hart269 · 2 years

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Bereaved

Pairing : Bucky barnes x sister!reader

Summary : How many times is it possible to lose someone.

A/N : So my brain had an idea; and here it is.

Masterlist

Finding hapiness in the most difficult of times, was a saying people in the difficult times would be annoyed to hear, but it is a necessary one to live life, especially if you have someone to live it with, because alone it becomes harder as you go.

Life was happy in the 40s even if there was a war going on, but there was a war going on, and it took him away from her. Her older brother Bucky didn't enlist but was drafted to fight to protect the country. And he fought, bravely so, and was captured by the enemies.

She remembered getting the letter, which declared him probably dead and had condolences from the General, how he was on the front and how his sacrifice was not lost.

But then Steve saved him, he became Captain America, the country's hero. The sickly pale kid she knew who also acted like her brother, was now as big as his determination to free everyone.

Steve alone entered the Hydra base and destroyed it to ashes, after that he wrote her a letter alongside Bucky, that they were safe and alive, and would be fighting the war together from there.

Relief flooded into her as she completed reading the letter, but worry oozed as she realised they still weren't safe. So, she enlisted as a nurse, to serve, it was better than sitting home and worrying.

But fate was against her happiness for when she met Steve, and saw his guilty face, she was barely listening when she found out about how Bucky fell down the train.

She was angry, not at Steve but at Hydra, so she joined the group that would be working to find the remaining Hydra members. The soldiers fought bravely, each one served to protect, they had taken down the most but the Red Skull was still alive.

That was until the plane crashed and Steve went into the ice and was frozen in time. She and her team were captured but declared dead, so no one would suspect hydra being involved.

They were experimented and starved, tortured - both mentally and physically, very few survived. When her powers first came, and electricity oozed out of her fingers, she was frozen to let the powers develop.

Years later taken out to control it. She was forced to control and use it as their wishes. But it didn't work out for long, so she again was frozen, and when she was released, she was treated worse than ever.

And when they forced her to use her powers too much,she accidentaly absorbed all the current and it flooded out of her at once killing everyone, burning down the building, giving her a chance to escape, and so she did.

She ran and caught the attention of SHIELD, taken by Nick Fury, she joined the Avengers, fighting to protect the world from aliens first, then robots and then fighting Hydra.

She never saw herself as a super hero, she just felt like she owed the world, for she had powers while most didn't. So she payed the favour by fighting for them, she didn't stop fighting wanting to be like her big brother, deep down thinking she can never be.

But she had friends now, Thor was a great help in learning to control her powers, Tony was like a weird dad, so was Bruce. Natasha was like a sister who was probably the only one she told about Hydra. Clint was a good friend and Steve was happy to have someone from his past alive.

Her world flipped when she found out that James was alive, and her heart broke when she learned what happened to him, he was so close and she never knew, if she did she might have saved him from their clutches a long time ago.

She wasn't there to fight him, but Steve did, and the sadness on her face was visible when she found that Bucky left without a word, she knew he didn't remember anything and didn't knew that she was alive,

But she hoped that he would remember her, his little sister, whose hand he never left in a fair, clutched it tightly while crossing the road, protected her from anyone dare to hurt her, gave her his own sweets when she finished hers, hugged her when she was sad and didn't left her side.

Then Ultron happened and then the Accords, the Avengers broke up, she didn't sign the Accords and chose to become a fugitive, and now she was standing in the airport, the first one to arrive, anxiously waiting to meet Bucky after a lifetime.

He didn't knew she was alive, thinking she had died after living a life, if only he knew. She had requested Steve to not tell him about her, her powers or what happened to her.

She hadn't even told Steve everything just a run down which made no sense, but still better than opening up old wounds. She took a deep breath when she saw the small car arrived.

Steve got out first, Bucky couldn't see who was infront of him from the backseat but when he got out he couldn't believe his eyes, he felt like it was a dream or a nightmare from his mind to torture him again, this couldn't be real but it felt real but so did his nightmares. He took slow steps towards the women the same pace as she did.

"Y/N" he questioned his voice hoarse staring at her as if she would disappear if he looked away.

She nodded, with teary eyes before he ran towards and llifted her, spinning her around, "It's really you, you are real" he whispered cradling her face.

"It is me" she whispered before they hugged again.

"But how" he wondered as they pulled away.

"I'm a vampire" she joked with a serious face making Sam snort who was listening leaning against the car.

"What" he exclaimed in shock.

"No, I'm joking I'm not, it's a long story and we don't have that much time now" she explained.

"Okay, later" he sighed just happy to have someone he loved alive and not scared of him.

"Later" she replied hugging him again.

And then the fight happened, fighting people she once considered family and then Bucky was sent to Wakanda, to have his mind fixed. She had bittersweet feelings about that.

She didn't want him to go on another time wrap but she also knew it would be better if the winter soldier wiil go out of Bucky's mind, so he can finally have peace after years of torture. And so she stood watching him go into the icing machines as she called it, before going into the run.

She turned from a superhero into a Vigilante, now working outside of law, still fighting the bad guys while trying to run from the Government, sometimes teaming up with different powered people like Deadpool, Daredevil or Spiderman and many others.

But then the aliens came, and she was called into Wakanda, to fight a purple grape called Thanos, who was trying to remove half of the world's population. She was reunited with Bucky, he looked much happier and at peace without the fear that of the soldier, the black and gold vibranium arm was better too.

They fought, they did, but they lost when he snapped his fingers.

She watched as the people she once knew turn into dust before their eyes, but then she heard Bucky speak, "Steve, Y/N".

She looked back just as Bucky fell into the ground and only a small "no" could escape her mouth before she lost her brother again but this time, she just felt numb, staring into the ground where he once stood.

#bucky barnes #Bucky barnes x sister! reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier #the avengers #steve rogers #tony stark #natasha romanoff #clint barton #bruce banner #thor #matt murdock #daredevil #deadpool #spider man

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olivia200312 · 3 years

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Prime Missing~ TFP! Optimus x Half-Predacon! Reader *Request*

Requested by the lovely CreatorCat

Plot: Hi there! Could I please request a TFP Optimus x half Cybertronian and half Predacon female Autobot reader? Only Optimus knows she is like that. Her Predacon form is a dragon and her vehicle form is a mustang car (Wildstyle colors from Lego Movie). Her fighting style is dancing (dance fighting, usually coordinated with music only she can hear in her earpiece, unpredictable). It takes place during Beast Wars where they meet Ultra Magnus. Optimus goes missing and the reader is very upset because she has a crush on the Prime.

Ultra Magnus grows a crush on her after seeing her fight in battle. He is concerned she'll get hurt because her style doesn't fall into the protocol and can't be monitored. He forbids her from joining the ranks in battle until she 'shaded up'. The reader is devasted and falls into sort of depression because that she wouldn't be able to dance or fight anymore and that was what she lived for. Optimus returns (finally) to find his crush (the reader) not herself anymore. They have been 'broken' and fight the way that Ultra Magnus saw fit. He's horrified because this wasn't 'his Y/N' and confronted Ultra Magnus. Afterward, Optimus takes the reader aside and confesses and she smiles for the first time in 'forever'. The next battle she's in, she breaks protocol and does her original style of fighting much to everyone's happiness (except Ultra Magnus). She also reveals her Predacon side to protect everyone from the Decepticons and Predaking.

What do you think?

That's a long request ever since I got a request to write a high school version. Lol. So, I read the entire text here and began to think. Do not think it is a bad way. I absolutely love the request but however, I don't like a few things. I'm not familiar with Beast Wars at all. I know only like literally one character and that is Optimal Primal. He is in fact the new Prime in Power of the Primes after Optimus' death. Don't believe me? Watch the 10 episodes or follow the OC book that I'm working on since I'm partnered up with Alita-One and others on Quotev. Furtonaly, I don't like Beast Wars at all since it's different. I also couldn't help but cringe a bit since it's TFP playing in Beast Wars. I remember some clips and scenes where Optimus actually goes missing after the base got exploded and Ultra Magnus appearing. I also remember Predacon's Rising.

Also since I don't like hurting other lovely characters (either rejected or friend-zoned), I made Ultra Magnus different. He'll be not crushing on the reader, but don't worry, he'll get tasted with his own medicine. Revenge will arrive.

Head area:

Brain: Processor / Brain Module

Head: Helm

Face: Face plate

Ears: Audio receptors / Receptor Orifice / Audials

Nose: Enstril / Olfactory Sensor

Eye brow: Optical Ridge

Eyes: Optics

Mouth: Intake

Lips: Dermas

Teeth: Denta/Dentas

Tongue: Glossa

Chest area:

Chest: Chassis / Thoraxal Cavity

Back: Hexa-Lateral Scapula

Spine: Bipedalism cord / Back Strut

Chest and back armour:

Chest plate

Back plate

Mid-section plating

Neck guard

Side plating

Arm area:

Arms: Arms / Restarlueus

Forearms: Bitarlueus

Hands: Servos

Fingers: Digits

Arm armour:

Gantlets

Shoulder pads

Arm guard

Lower area:

Pelvis: Pelvis

Butt: Aft / Skid-Plate

Thighs: Tibulen

Calves: Cadulen

Feet: Pedes - the high heel bits are called Struts or Heel Struts.

Lower armour:

Skirt plates

Aft plate / Skid plate

Thigh guard

Ankle guard

General/Internal components:

Muscles: Cables / Pistons - It depends on the area in question.

Veins: Fual lines

Stomach: Tanks

Lungs: Vents - used to stop the con/bot from over heating.

Heart: Spark

Tattoos: D-con/A-bot Insignias and the lark

T-Cog: The thing that allows all Cybertronians to transform, be that their arms or their whole body.

Bonus:

Penis: Spike

Vagina: Valve

Body: Frame

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

"Jack, meet Ultra Magnus," Arcee introduced her human partner to the missing commander of the Autobots.

Jack looked shocked as he took a look at Ultra Magnus. He was light blue while Optimus was dark blue. The commander had a strict look on his faceplate. What was his problem? Sure, there was a war still going on because since Cybertron, the home planet of the Cybertronians, including the Autobots, Decepticons, and the Predacons, was dead so the idiotic Decepticons moved the war towards Earth when they discovered that the Autobots had been hiding there. Honestly, Megatron was too evil and stupid for actually settling the war on Earth. Earth! The planet was involved in many wars already, especially WWI and WWII.

But let's get to the point: what's been happening?

Well, the Decepticons discovered where the Autobots had been hiding. Before it got blown up, Optimus ordered everyone to leave the base and a serious warning: don't use the phone to call or send anything. If they do, then the Decepticons can track your signal, which can lead a serious danger. Jack went with Arcee, Miko with Bulkhead, and finally Raf with Bumblebee. Eventually, the base got exploded. Optimus got seriously wounded that Smokescreen found him. He was a smart rookie for hiding him so that Optimus can possibly heal and be safely hidden. Sadly, the damage was too much that Optimus was slowly offlining. He didn't want to leave, especially not Y/N. She was a half-Predacon and half-Cybertronian. She was an Autobot. So, it means that Y/N's carrier or sire was a Predacon while the other was Cybertronian. She was found wounded in a forest by Optimus and he took her to the Autobots base. Poor Y/N... She remembered how scared she was when she was there. I mean, she was wounded, lost on Earth, and didn't know anyone. She lost her creators thanks to the war. She eventually learned fast how to take care of herself.

When Optimus met her, he couldn't help but thought that Y/N was a unique and beautiful femme he'd ever seen. I mean, she was half-Cybertronian and half-Predacon. He had seen full Predacons before like Predaking. Soon, he'll meet Darksteel and Skylynx who were brothers. Y/N had wings and a tail so she was very unique. She was thankful to fly and control her balance more. The human kids loved Y/N. Miko, of course, asked too many questions that at one point, Jack and Raf had to stop her since they noticed when Y/N got uncomfortable and scared.

But anyway, that all happened before the big explosion. Optimus grew in fact closer to Y/N that he was the only one at the base who Y/N trusted. She would stay by his side, help him and ask questions. Optimus gladly helped her whenever she was scared or asked questions. He also found her adorable in secret. He sometimes asked himself about her like her wings for example. Were they sensitive? Maybe they were? He will only know if he touched it. If Y/N ever allowed it.

While Y/N was with the Autobots, it didn't mean that she met everyone. She didn't meet Ultra Magnus at the time. He was a strict commander of the Autobots and was light blue and red. His vehicle was very similar to the Prime. His shoulderplates were weird, kinda. No disrespect. But oh boy, Y/N hated Magnus. When he saw her, he was only coldhearted and strict towards her. Y/N's fighting style was dancing but the commander didn't like it that he forbid her to do so. It was like this:

The Autobots just came back after a fight again with the Decepticons. The fight was brutal this time. Apparently, the Decepticons had a new 'weapon' and it was a full Predacon! It was a male and in fact, the ruler of the race when they went instinct many years ago thanks to Megatron himself. Shockwave managed to bring the king back from the dead. His name was Predaking. He was huge! After all, he was a male and a ruler. Since Y/N was half-Predacon, she actually can't transform. Some Cybertronians who were half-Predacons, couldn't actually transform. Some can, some couldn't. Y/N didn't mind that she couldn't transform. She liked how she looked, even having a Predacon tail and wings.

But everyone was wounded. Y/N fought against the male Predacon himself. Their fight was rough and they bit and clawed. But Y/N managed to trick him by dancing. Fighting was a little bit of dancing if you didn't know. You were moving and using your whole frame. It was exhausting for Y/N, but she won.

Ultra Magnus, however, didn't like her fighting style that he brought her into a private chamber. He closed the door and faced her, with his usual strict expression. "Soldier, I want you to change the style."

Y/N lifted her optical ridge up in confusion. What did the commander mean by that? Her armor? Her outgoing? What was it? "What do you mean?"

"Change your fighting style. Also, I forbid you from ever going to fight with us."

Y/N couldn't believe what she heard. Was he really serious? Was he going to forbid her from going out to fight? But what about Optimus Prime? He still wasn't found! He was missing ever since the big explosion that the Decepticons caused weeks ago. The human kids spread around together with their guardians and they weren't allowed to not use any technology or else the Decepticons will track them down. Jack, stupid enough, used his cellphone to text his mother that he was fine. It was understandable for a kid to text its parent to let them know that they were fine. But when it came to the war between the Autobots and the Decepticons, then it was important to listen to the advice.

Ultra Magnus simply left the private chamber, leaving the poor half-Predacon femme alone.

That's basically how it happened. Ever since that day, Y/N didn't come out a lot from her berthroom. She was very spark broken ever since the strict commander told her those words. He forbid her from searching Optimus, who was still missing at the moment. How could he say that? Y/N cared deeply for Optimus just like the entire team. He was their leader but also someone that would protect others and be willing to sacrifice his life.

Y/N would only recharge all day. She ate and drank of course but it wasn't a lot like she used. Basically, how a normal Cybertronian ate. If you didn't know, humans can die from broken hearts. It was in fact a Broken heart syndrome, also known as stress cardiomyopathy or takotsubo syndrome. It was very sad to have that like heart disease. Not only humans can have that syndrome but also Cybertronians, especially the Predacons, full or not. Y/N attracted that syndrome. Everyone says that action speaks louder than words, but words hurt more than actions. Y/N had shortness of breathing and having chassis pains. That was the most common syndrome of heart disease.

Ratchet, the medic of the team wasn't blind at all and was trained to notice signs of any health problems. Since Y/N was showing those signs, he did the tests and diagnosed her with Broken Heart Syndrome or should I say Broken Spark Syndrome? Ratchet kept a close optic on her and made her take medication, especially if she showed signs of chassis pains and shortness of breath.

But meanwhile in the main room of the base...

Ratchet was updating Y/N's health on the Cybertronian computer since it was important for the medics to keep new updates so that they can keep the information. There was actually no standard treatment for the syndrome that Y/N had, but you can survive with medication and as long as you're being careful. Not only do doctors like Ratchet keep updates safe but also dentists as well. Ratchet was mad at Ultra Magnus for saying hurtful words but kept it quiet. It was time that others should watch out for what comes out of their mouths. Words can damage someone and give an illness. He began to ask himself how would Optimus react if he found out about that...

Bumblebee then walked up to Ratchet and beeped a question at him.

Ratchet signed and looked over his shoulderplate. "No, Bumblebee. Y/N is still a little bit weak to come out. I am doing the best I can to help her on track. But her syndrome doesn't have a standard treatment. Just like on humans."

Bumblebee frowned and let out a sad whirl. He saw Y/N as his good friend and cared for her as a friend. He was mad at the commander for saying those words that he nearly attacked her. Didn't the idiotic commander notice at all how much he damaged her? Why was he even doing this?! Just because she was a half-Predacon!? Bumblebee clenched his fists in anger as he started to shake.

Ratchet, being a smart aft medic, noticed it and quickly placed his servo on the scout's shoulderplate. "Easy, Bumblebee." Just as Ratchet wanted to say something further, his computer caught a signal. He quickly went to the device and Bumblebee looked curiously over his shoulderplate.

"Hahaha!" Ratchet began to laugh and clapped his servos happily. That caught everyone's attention as they walked up to him, except Y/N, who was still sadly in her berthroom to rest. She did hear Ratchet's happy laugh, which was confusing, but she didn't bother to check since she felt weak. Ratchet turned around fast with a big smile on his faceplate. "Optimus is alive!"

That caused everyone to cheer happily. Y/N fell asleep at that time. She didn't hear Ratchet's loud voice that said that Optimus was alive and coming soon to the base.

2 hours later~

"Awesome! Optimus is now like 2.0!" Miko happily jumped as she was fascinated by Optimus' new look.

"It's good to have you back, Optimus," Arcee said with a smile.

Everyone was saying how happy they were to see and have Optimus Prime back. The leader was smiling as he listened to everyone with respect. He was happy to see them as well. Even though he was almost offline for good, he thought about others, especially Y/N. But wait, where was she? He saw his friends but not Y/N. He frowned. What happened to her while he was missing? He wondered about her every day. He nearly did join the AllSpark and taking the servo of his mentor, Alpha Trion. The old smart mech understood his student's decision. He even teased Optimus to get the spark of the half-Predacon. He blushed.

Ratchet seem to realize Optimus' frown and he immediately knew that it was about Y/N. He walked up to his leader. "Optimus, I have to speak to you. It's urgent."

Optimus nodded in understanding. Of course, he heard Ratchet's serious tone, which meant that he was deadly serious, especially for being a medic. His job was to take care of others and help if needed. They both went to a private chamber to speak while others stayed. Ultra Magnus, however, got a bad feeling...

Ratchet closed the door and turned to face Optimus. "Optimus, while you were gone, others had a fight against the Decepticons. They had a new 'weapon' it was a full Predacon... a mech. He's named Predaking, the ruler of the Predacons. Y/N fought against him. I must say, I am impressed with her fighting moves. Dancing. Ultra Magnus didn't like her style at all. I saw them going to a private chamber. I learned from Y/N that Magnus forbid her from going out and he forced her to change her style..." He sighed and took a deep breath. "As a result, Y/N has Broken Heart Syndrome, also known as stress cardiomyopathy or takotsubo syndrome in humans. But I called it the Broken Spark Syndrome. She has trouble breathing and having chassis pains. I made her take medication."

Optimus couldn't believe what he heard. How could Ultra Magnus do this? He was getting angry. The commander took it too far by his words. He look calmy at Ratchet and nodded. "Thank you for the information old friend. I will speak to commander Ultra Magnus and see Y/N."

Ratchet nodded back and they left the private chamber. Ultra Magnus knew that he was busted. Optimus slowly walked up to the commander, with a disappointed and angry expression on his faceplate. He took the commander to somewhere private and let's just say that Optimus was so stern. He also finally punished the commander for what he said to Y/N. Ratchet was satisfied and mumbled under his breath: "As humans say: 'Get rekt'."

Optimus then walked through the hallway corridors, searching for Y/N's berthroom. Each bot had a nameplate hanging against the door. It was easier for everyone to find each other, except for humans since they were so small. But good that the kids remembered which room was who. They drew small symbols on each door of the bot. Ratchet got a symbol of a doctor, Bumblebee got a bee, Arcee a motorcycle, etc. Y/N had a dragon, even though she couldn't transform into a Predacon.

Optimus knocked on the door gently as he found Y/N's door. After no response, he softly opened the door and peaked in. He smiled softly once he saw Y/N recharging peacefully. But he was still worried about her health after all. He walked to Y/N, closing the door softly to not wake her up. He caressed her helm with his gentle digits and he smiled once he heard her purr. Predacons can purr a lot. Yes, even Optimus can too but not a lot like the Predacons can, even half ones. Optimus continued to caress as he sat down carefully, lifting Y/N's helm and laid it on his lap. For some reason, laps were so comfy. No wonder humans and Cybertronians fall asleep easily, even falling asleep on someone's body. It was so cute when a male slept on top of the female as a couple or friends. Family too. But mostly, females slept on top of the males.

Y/N softly moaned in her sleep as she moved a bit. She felt very comfortable. But that's when she groaned and had trouble breathing. She panted and Optimus got worried. He then noticed the medication on her nightstand. He grabbed it and then Y/N gasped and sat up, her servo on her chassis.

"Easy, Y/N," the familiar deep voice said.

Y/N snapped her helm towards the very familiar deep voice and gasped. it was Optimus! Wait, he was really here?! She was about to say something but Optimus silenced her by cupping her cheekplate, causing her to blush a lot. He helped her take the medication and soon, she breathed normally. But she felt then sleepy again. Optimus noticed it and softly pushed her down. "Recharge, Y/N. Your body needs more rest."

Y/N smiled softly and fell asleep. She can now catch a lot of rest since Optimus was alive and well. She found him more handsome. His new look, now strong body, etc. But she loved his hips, smile, voice, and smirk. As she was sleeping, she felt soft dermas on hers. Optimus was kissing her, just like in the movie Sleeping Beauty.

I apologize if it isn't familiar a lot. I decided to try and make it a little cuter for the fans, especially the ending part.

#optimus prime #transfomers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp optimus prime #fluff #one shot #romance #x reader #reader #x predacon reader #broken heart syndrome #comfort #missing #optimus prime x reader

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batsandbugs · 4 years

Text

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 5: Vent Shenanigans and Keurig Conversations

AN: Okay, this is the last that anyone is going to hear of me for two weeks. Then I’m out of school and will be ready to crank out some more chaos. Until then, I hope you guys enjoy!

Television shows made navigating through vents appear much easier than it was in real life. Then again, they also made being a superhero look easy too, and Marinette was painfully aware how that was false.

Her knees and back ached from crawling through the low ceiling vents, and though she wasn’t claustrophobic, she was decidedly cramped. And if that’s how she felt, Damian, at more than half a foot taller, had to be doubly suffering. She asked how he was doing.

“I've crawled through far more pleasant vents before,” he replied seriously. “If we could continue quickly, we’ll come out near another vent gate in about ten or so minutes.”

They continued in silence until they came to a fork in the vent.

“Which way?” asked Marinette.

Damian hesitated. “I didn’t see this on the plans.”

“So, you don’t know.”

“I did not say that.”

“So which way do we go?”

Silence.

Marinette sighed and closed her eyes, poking for the pooled energy inside herself. Being the Guardian of the Miraculous had helped her innate magic to grow in leaps and bounds, but it was her Ladybug powers she ultimately searched for. After being bonded with Tikki for so long, certain… qualities tended to bleed over. One such ability was making decisions infused with good luck. It wasn’t easy, but it was one she had been working hard to master.

A glimmer of magic burned in her chest, and a fleeting whispered voice told her to turn left. She smiled in the dark of the vent.

“Left,” she said confidently, “we go left.”

“Why?”

Marinette’s smile turned into a smirk, even though Damian couldn’t see her. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to try.” The quickness made the reply appear casual, but Marinette could tell by the steel in his tone it told more truth than intended.

‘Who the hell did I team up with?’ her brain once again asked.

“Let’s leave me off the list,” she said, bypassing the dangerous remark with a gymnast's grace. “Come on.”

She crawled around the corner and, after only a moment’s hesitation, heard Damian follow after her.

Silence reigned for another minute or so before far in the distance they spotted light.

“Oh, thank the Kwamis, an exit,” Marinette muttered.

Damian grumbled behind her. “None of this appeared on the plans.”

“Learn to roll with the flow.” The light grew stronger, so she flicked off her phone flashlight. “Chances are it didn’t take your brothers too long to track me back to our hiding spot. They probably know we’re in the vents. If they found the same plan you did…”

“They won’t have any clue about this.” She could hear the pleased smirk in his voice.

“Exactly.”

The light flooded upwards from the vent floor. The slats in between large enough to view the room below. Marinette crawled over it and maneuvered herself around to face Damian.

“Nice to see your face again.”

The dim light from the vent illuminated his face. “N-Nice to see yours too,” he said. It was at that point, it dawned on Marinette that Damian's view the whole way through the vent was an up close look at her butt. From the heat radiating off her cheeks, it was likely her face was as red as his. She was torn between laughing hysterically and curling into mortified ball and never emerging.

Instead of either of those rational actions though, her mouth, her stupid, stupid mouth, decided to betray her.

“Enjoy the view?” she asked with a grin. ''What are you doing?' She yelled at herself, that was the last thing she wanted to utter.

Damian, if it was even possible, turned redder, and coughed lightly. “You have, uh, your bottom is quite shapely.” By the end of his confession, his voice was a high-pitched squeak, more appropriate for a preteen, then an adult. It took every bit of self-control for Marinette to keep from falling apart laughing.

“Thanks, I exercise,” she responded cheekily. A familiar magical hum settled in her breastbone. Her connection to the Kwamis magic. Marinette held back from rolling her eyes, even as her inner panic grew. One of the Kwamis was helping her to flirt. Probably Plagg judging by her cheesy replies.

‘They are the physical embodiments of the powers of the universe, and they choose to help me flirt. What even is my life?’

“It's working well,” replied Damian, with more of a teasing tone than an embarrassed one, although his cheeks still appeared redder than normal.

“Yeah, well…” Marinette sat there struggling for a reply, when noise from below cut off their impromptu flir- teasing session.

“I swear to God, if I find out who caused the mess in the Market Hall, I'll strangle them with my bare hands,” complained a voice from below.

Marinette winced when she saw Damian looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She hadn’t meant to cause that much damage.

“Oh, come on, Ian, it’s not like it was unscrewed on purpose. A bolt probably loosened and the shelf got bumped into. Blame it on bad luck.”

“Well, can I strangle bad luck then?”

Marinette held back an undainty snort. Plagg's constant whining and complaining coming to mind. ‘There I certain days I definitely want to.’

“I don’t think so. I’m more worried about the giant cart pile up.” At that, Damian raised a second eyebrow, and Marinette shrugged, she didn't controlled what the Bad Luck Balls did. “We’re gonna need to test all the carts to check for any more loose wheels, that’s gonna take forever. Anyway, are you headed home?”

“Yeah, I’m half an hour over the end of my shift,” responded Ian. Marinette could see two people moving around in the room below. “Ooh look, someone brought in doughnuts! You want one Casey?”

“No thanks, still trying to stay on that diet. I just came in here for a drink and then I’m back out on the floor.” The sound of a fridge door opened. “See you next week.”

“Yeah, you too Casey.”

The sound of another door opened leaving the room below silent once more.

“Shopping carts?” Damian asked, half-amused, and half bewildered. “I didn’t hear about that.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Escape was the highest priority, okay?”

“When would you find the time to accomplish that?”

Marinette hesitated, there was no good explanation to give that would satisfy him. She wouldn’t tell him about the Miraculous or the Kwamis. It was her job, no her duty, to maintain their safety, and after everything she had fought for, bled for, nearly died for... no matter how comfortable he made her, there was no way he'd learn about what she could do. Especially when she had the feeling he was far more than meets the eye. Which didn’t leave much in the way of a good excuse for what she did and how.

Then, as if understanding Marinette’s great need for a distraction, their stomachs rumbled in unison. They looked at each other for a moment before laughing.

Marinette huffed, wiping away a tear of joy from her eye. “Okay, we need to find food to eat.”

Damian nodded. “The food court is a no go now; Drake will monitor it even more closely than before. We could find a vending machine?”

An idea popped into Marinette’s mind. “Or… how about the doughnuts?”

“Huh?”

She pointed down. “This is the breakroom. Ian mentioned doughnuts.”

“That would be stealing.”

“As opposed to the twenty other things we’ve stolen over the course of the past two hours?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “I can back pay those.”

“So, we’ll send them a box of doughnuts once we’ve won. I’m sure the IKEA employees will understand the doughnut's sacrifice to a worthy cause. Besides, breakrooms have coffee machines.”

Damian sneered. “Coffee from a machine will taste will taste like swill.”

“Didn't you say your brother dragged you out of bed at eight this morning? Coffee means caffeine, which means energy.”

He tilted his head and contemplated it for a moment. “Fair point.” He looked at the grate. “It’s probably a ten-foot drop. Can you handle that?”

Marinette had to refrain from rolling her eyes. She had free fallen off the Eiffel Tower before, she could handle a measly ten-foot drop. But Damian wasn't aware of any of that of course. “Yeah, I can do that.”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out the laser pen. “Back up, it’s going to get hot in here.”

Marinette averted her eyes while Damian cut the grate away with the laser, the heat making the metal vent shaft turn into a furnace. She wiped away at a bead of sweat forming at her brow. The grate gave way and clattered against the floor below. Damian put away the laser and gave her a quick smirk. He slipped his legs into the hole where the grate had been and jumped to the floor, landing with a soft thud.

Breathing a sigh of relief at finally leaving the cramped vent, Marinette maneuvered her legs to dangle over the vent opening and slid out, bracing herself for the landing.

But instead of meeting the floor, she found herself caught in mid-air. Damian had her in his grasp, holding her off the floor by a few inches with his strong arms snug around her waist. Their eyes caught and the air between them grew thick with tension. His bare hands brushed against a sliver of her exposed back, the contact sent shivers up her spine.

Neither of them breathed for a brief moment.

“I told you I could handle the drop,” Marinette said, her words barely above a whisper.

“I know.” Damian’s voice matched hers. The look in his eyes impossible to decipher. His arms tightened for a moment, before letting her slip-free.

Marinette smiled, resting her hands against his arms. “Thanks.”

Damian opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it. He stepped back, effectively breaking the bubble around them. Marinette pushed the rapid flutter in her chest away. She could deal with it later when she was far removed from crazy games of hide-and-seek, and dark-skinned boys who made her too comfortable to be safe.

She turned and looked around the room they had dropped into, finding it, thankfully, empty. The last thing they needed was security getting called on them. Spotting the counter with the box of doughnuts on it, Marinette smiled.

She walked over to the box. “Well, it’s no Parisian artisan pastries, but I suppose the chain-restaurant swill will suffice,” she teased, looking back over her shoulder at Damian.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he deadpanned. Heading over to the coffee machine to start a new pot. She turned her attention back to the box, the words Krispy Kreme printed on the front in large green letters, several doughnuts still inside.

“Which one do you want?” she asked.

“Anything with chocolate.”

“You have excellent taste.”

“I strive too.” That made Marinette smile. It was such a Chole-like response. She had to make sure never to introduce the two of them.

Marinette pulled out a few doughnuts and put them in the microwave. They would taste much better warm. After a few seconds, she brought the plate over to Damian staring at the ancient coffee machine with distaste.

“Here, you take this.” She pushed the plate of warm doughnuts into his hands. “And I’ll deal with this.” Grabbing a filter to place the pre-crushed coffee grounds into.

“Tt, why don’t they use a Keurig?” he asked with a sneer.

“Uh… because it’s a breakroom in an IKEA?” Marinette was shocked to find a breakroom at all. She’d figured employees would have to lean against the wall if they wanted a break, before being prodded into moving again by their superior. At least, she thought that was what Americans did.

Damian scoffed. “Everyone uses Keurig.”

“Even you, Mr. Machine coffee tastes like swill?”

“No, Alfred makes our coffee in the morning French press style. I do occasionally steal Drake’s Keurig out of his room when he hasn’t slept in four days to watch him cry though.”

“Damian!” she exclaimed.

“What? It’s for his own good. At that point he’s more likely to make a mistake, he needs sleep, not more caffeine.”

Marinette's thoughts flickered to her own Keurig she bought before she left Paris and the number of times she had played out the exact scenario Damian described. “Coffee is a lifestyle.” She grabbed two paper cups and placed one underneath the machine as the coffee dripped.

“It’s a crutch. Drake is a grown man, and he should, mlph-” Marinette cut him off by shoving a chocolate doughnut into his mouth. He glared at her.

“Getting between a determined person and their coffee is a criminal offense and should be punished.” She grabbed a doughnut for herself taking a bite of the sugary pastry. It tasted nothing like her parents’, but her empty stomach didn't care, so it would do. “Who’s Alfred by the way? Another brother?”

Damian took half the doughnut out of his mouth, swallowing the rest. “Most people wouldn’t dare to take the liberties you do with me.”

“Good thing I’m not most people,” Marinette responded with a smile. “You’re avoiding the question.” She took the cup out, now full to the brim of steaming hot coffee, and replaced it with the second.

“No, fortunately, I have no more brothers. Although my father likes to pick up strays so who knows if we’ll obtain another. Alfred is our butler.”

Thankfully, Marinette hadn’t taken a sip of coffee otherwise she might have done a spit-take. “You have a butler?” She had gotten the impression his family was pretty rich, and she was used to her friends having personal staff, but never failed to shock her when this level of luxury was mentioned so casually.

Damian shrugged. “Tt, butler, pseudo-grandfather, the only reason our family functions even semi-normally; same difference.”

Marinette shook her head in exasperation. “If you say so.” She pulled out the second cup, handing it to Damian. He took a sip.

“If mediocre had a taste…”

“Oh, shut up and drink it.”

They devoured their meager rations in silence, going back for seconds on both doughnuts and coffee. Marinette was by no means full when she finished, but at least her stomach wasn’t threatening to eat itself anymore.

“So, where do we go from here?” she asked.

Damian pulled out his phone. “The store closes at nine, which means we either have to avoid my brothers for eight more hours, or…”

“We have to knock them out of the game completely.”

“Exactly.”

“So, are we gonna actually knock them out, or should we just get them kicked out of the store?” She would normally try to avoid the use of excessive force on civilians, but from the few hints Damian had dropped, Marinette figured his family was used to a higher level of insanity. Living in Gotham must have that effect.

“Effective and vicious,” commented Damian, “I like the way you think. As much fun as it would be to knock them out, getting them kicked out is probably the better method. We have… family plans for this evening that potential concussions would make difficult.”

“Who’s our first target?”

“Drake,” said Damian without a moment’s hesitation. “He’s their eyes and ears. The other two are still good at hacking, but he’s the best. Get rid of him, and Grayson and Todd will be scrambling to recover. Plus, he’s the least likely to put up a fight.”

With a plan made, they erased their presence from the breakroom, hiding the lasered off vent grate and discarding their trash. Once confident the coast was clear they snuck out of the breakroom, and into the bowels of the back hallways, leaving nothing but doughnut crumbs and the smell of coffee in their wake.

It was time for the hunters to become the prey.

Tag List (closed, sorry)

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#damimari #maribat #maridami #daminette #damientte #damian x marinette #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #mlb crossover #mlb x dc #the great IKEA game #hide and seek

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