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tinycrow · 2 years

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In the shoes of Mikaela Banes

an insert fic where an overachieving and antisocial introvert becomes mikaela banes. definitely not projecting cough. i wrote this sometime during The Great 5-Month Writer’s Block to get motivated to write the fics I wanted to write (Don’t say you’d rather walk).

written in father’s perspective (but in third person), and then mikaela’s POV /first person.

EDIT// sorry! forgot to add READ MORE. oh my god

By Greyscales (AO3 name, link in blog description)

Warnings: vague mentions of dysfunctional home life (one line), mentions of emotional abuse (also one line). will be marked with asterisk (*).

~=*=~

Age 4-6, neutral/father perspective

From a very young age, it was apparent that Mikaela Banes was smart. Her father, the only parent in the picture since her mother was unfit to raise her, may have never finished high school but he wasn’t dumb. He knew that his young daughter could achieve so much more than either he or her mother ever had… if only he could make enough money to keep the little girl happy and healthy. Perhaps he was lucky in a way; Mikaela never wanted toys, clothes, or things he always imagined little girls would want. His daughter, his kind but oh-so-strange daughter, wanted broken junk, books, and food. He ends up smiling while watching her fiddle with her latest haul from the scrap heap, despite how odd a picture it makes. She didn’t always succeed in her ‘hobby’ as she would call it, but whenever she managed to turn what he thought was trash into something usable he would celebrate her successes with her. The smile on his daughter’s face was infectious.

As for himself, Mikaela’s father was a jaded man. *His own parents hadn’t been kind to him, and he’d dropped out of high school in his sophomore year to instead work wherever he could in hopes of being able to move out. He’d swore to himself that he’d never be like his parents, and every time his daughter smiled at him a part of his chest clenched tightly and reminded him of that promise. Despite that, things were hard for him. He owned an auto shop that he could barely afford to keep running. To make ends meet he would sometimes resort to less than legal means to make money. His daughter had a baby sitter for these times, of course.

That is, until one day he found his daughter, at only 4 years old, cooking lunch at the stove. In a panic, he’d removed her from it, scolding her for going near it… but she’d looked quite stubborn that time, and later on he found her doing it again, and then again until the distressed father finally understood that she could feed herself if for whatever reason he couldn’t make her lunch or dinner. It was crazy, he knew, and he knew very well that he probably shouldn’t be trusting his 4-year-old near the stove or knives. Being equally stubborn, he’d promised himself to never give her the chance to use her newfound culinary skills. He tried to be firm.

However, one day his usual babysitters weren’t available, and he had to make money soon or he wouldn’t be able to keep his auto shop open any longer. On that day he was forced to make a decision and by doing so break a promise he’d made. He brought Mikaela to the kitchen and put a hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the fridge.

“Mik, there’s some leftovers in this container here. Do you know how to use the microwave?”

“Yup!” She smiled at him not knowing what he was about to do, “Open container, put in microwave, beep boop time, and ding! Done!”

“You’re so smart,” He said with a ruffle to her hair even as he felt his heart clench, “Daddy’s gotta go make some money, so I’m going out for a few hours. When you get hungry…” He paused to swallow, and with it hopefully all the guilt inside him would go back down, “Put it in for a minute, then if it’s still not warm enough, put it back in for just 30 seconds more. Okay?”

Her answer was a simple, “Okay,” and he looked at her worriedly.

“Do you think you can remember that sweetheart?” He asked.

“Yup.”

He took more time telling her what not to do when home alone, like never answer the door or phone, but after a fierce hug he had to pull away finally to do what needed to be done.

After that time—though he always, always preferred having a babysitter—it no longer completely terrified him to have his daughter alone at home. The people he helped do illegal activities with never came to understand that he had a daughter, and he almost preferred it that way.

It was at 6 years old that his daughter told him about a boy she’d become friends with at school.

Sam Witwacky or something. The name didn’t matter. He’d lie if he said he wasn’t concerned about his daughter attracting the attention of boys, but he also knew his daughter well enough now that he could stay calm at this revelation. She was already so much smarter for her age, and a part of him worried she would grow up too fast, but his daughter was an odd one that always thought practically about things she wanted. If she became friends with this boy, it either meant she could gain something for this relationship… or Sam was genuinely a good kid she didn’t mind being friends with. And anyway, she’d never really talked about friends with him before, so any friend at this point was a good thing for her development socially.

It surprised him how easily he got over the fact that Sam was a boy. He even met the boy along with his parents. They were an honest and good family, the kind that he wished for himself. He and the Witwicky parents grew to have a pleasant relationship over the next year, especially he and Ron who could bond over their love of cars. He not only gained a new customer in his shop, but also an honest friend he could talk with. It wasn’t only cars, either. They would often gripe about the eccentricities of their kids, for better or worse.

It became apparent to the Witwicky family that despite her lacking social skills, Mikaela was a good influence on Sam. Conversely, the young girl’s father noticed that Sam was a good influence on her, and the friendship was encouraged. Sam’s teacher started leaving positive notes on his work, remarking his improved reading ability. Mikaela became much more talkative with not only her father but others as well, and spent time actually playing instead of solely on her ‘hobbies’. It was a relief to the father who always worried that she would never learn to relax and have fun or connect to others her age.

Things weren’t easy in this time, but he managed. Mikaela was happy, fed, and becoming a little more normal.

~=*=~

Age 7-14, Mikaela’s POV.

I knew from the movie that Sam had known about Mikaela since forever ago, but as the years passed a lot of the knowledge of the future kinda faded into a murky mess that barely helped. I knew the basics of what I should prepare myself for, but I didn’t have much to go on. So I focused on the things I knew I could affect. Who knows when Sam would pop up? Instead of sitting around twiddling my thumbs, I instead decided to learn myself some new skills, primarily skills related to cars and technology. It just made sense, and besides, Mikaela was supposed to know a thing or two about cars. Knowing more about technology too would be a bonus that could come in handy!

It started with simple circuits when I was a tot, which then advanced to simple electronics, and then computers. It was annoying having to slog through the books about them, but it was rewarding to have the devices come to life and then find a place somewhere in my home. Car stuff took more physical effort since my father was a little resistant to me being in the workshop, but persistence paid off in the end. At age 7 I had a basic understanding of how a car worked, and a bunch of little things about maintaining a vehicle. I also knew how to fix most simple technological devices and was working on fixing a phone so that I could, hopefully, have a means to contact people.

It was honestly a relief to just goof off and be a kid again when I finally encountered Sam in grade 1. Sure, I was a girl on a mission, but Sam was just a kid, and treating him like the teen I knew from my memories wouldn’t work out well. My dad seemed a bit wary of my friendship with Sam, at least at first, but a carefully planned encounter with Sam and his parents soon eased that wariness into acceptance. Ha. Mikaela 1, Dad 0..

It also gave me an excuse to leave the house, which I must admit I needed. In my previous life I had been fine to be left alone in one place for long periods of time, as I always had the means to entertain myself, but… I was also Mikaela, a smart girl who couldn’t stay in one place and craved attention/affection. She needed friends.

Since I was dead set on keeping an eye on Sam anyway, becoming his friend just made sense.

Time passed slowly, and I found myself relaxing compared to the intense learning schedule I’d set for myself in the time Before-Sam (aka BS). Sam’s family was more well-off than my own, so after we’d become close enough friends, we spent more time at his house than mine. Trying to encourage him to learn more about technology like myself, I tried showing him a thing or two, but he never really seemed as interested as I was. He did seem interested in my dad’s workshop the few times I showed him. He developed almost the same level of knowledge I did through sheer force of will and a doting father obsessed with cars.

Perhaps I should’ve been spending more time learning about cars if my level of knowledge is close to that of a grade-schooler…

Anyway, by the time we graduated middle school we were thick as thieves and fairly smart if our grades were anything to go by. Dad started asking the Witwicky family to watch me instead of going the babysitter route, which was okay with Sam’s parents with a few stipulations. One was that I would do homework with Sam first, and the second was that we call beforehand. This was obviously A-OK with me.

~=*=~

Mikaela’s father gets caught, Mikaela’s POV

I knew what my father did outside of the auto shop. I knew he stole cars. However, I was never brought along to these illegal escapades in this timeline, due to me demonstrating I was unusually capable and independent since a young age. Using that as my excuse, I pushed that forbidden knowledge to the edge of awareness and continued doing as I always did.

I wasn’t prepared for when my dad was caught. I was 15, not old enough to be living on my own quite yet.

I knew better than to lie to the cops. If I was caught, I’d probably end up with a record. I didn’t know what to do to help my dad or I escape trouble, but I knew I had the right to remain silent, and so I did. They tried cajoling me, lying to me, and bribing me. I didn’t say a word. I felt bad when the Witwicky family was eventually questioned. I knew some kind of bonding had happened between our fathers, and that friendship was being strained as the investigation continued. I can only imagine how Sam’s dad felt knowing the father of his son’s friend was being investigated for car theft.

I looked it up at the library. An investigation can last years. But I had to remain resilient, no matter how much I’m questioned about my father’s activities.

My father was eventually convicted despite my silence, and with that my world was shaken. I was sent to live with my aunt, who didn’t want me but didn’t turn me away. It was my only choice if I wanted to remain in Tranquility. *It wasn’t nice being treated like a burden, but I endured.

What hurt was when the honest and good Witwickys turned me away when I tried to visit Sam, using excuses such as ‘family outing’ or ‘he is busy’ to remain polite. It would take months for them to realize I had nothing to do with the car thefts. That realization, I would learn later, came when Sam sat them down to seriously talk about me and why he thought I was innocent in this. I was touched, still hurt, but touched.

~=*=~

Start of the movie

Since Sam and I were best friends by the time I was 17, I wasn’t sure if the events of the movie would happen the same. Turns out it would literally just come out of nowhere. I just came over one day to find Bumblebee chilling in the driveway and dropped everything I was holding.

“How the heck, Sam?” I gaped at him.

He puffed his chest out and leaned against his newly acquired Autobot, probably trying to look cool. I just scoffed at him good-naturedly. He said, “Nice, right? That’s 4000 dollars right there.”

“Yeah… I’m going to need to check this out first. Don’t you dare drive off before then.” I stripped to my tank top underneath my loose T-shirt and bent over to grab the stuff I dropped. When my eyes rose, I noticed him staring. I gave him a reproachful look as I passed him to set my stuff by the garage door. He straightened and I rolled my eyes. He’d been eyeing me up a lot lately, and it was honestly making me uncomfortable. He was like a brother to me, and I didn’t see him the same way he saw me. I just wasn’t sure how to broach the topic yet. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I also couldn’t let it continue obviously.

After failing to lift the hood the first time, I coaxed it open with a sweet “C’mon baby, I’ll be gentle,” and took a good hard look at the engine. Sam hovered by, somewhat familiar with the inner workings of a vehicle but a bit rusty. He tried flexing on that knowledge, to which I responded by pushing him away with a smile. “Let me work, Sam.”

Bumblebee’s engine was fine. Super fine. If I was an autophile I’d probably be drooling. I tweaked a few things that seemed off to me and closed the hood. I then went to check other things including tire pressure, and finally came to the conclusion that it was fine to ‘drive’, though a bit dirty. We both ended up cleaning Bumblebee. I went to do the insides with a host of clean cloths.

Closing the door, I smiled at the dashboard, not sure where to aim my voice if I wanted to address the Autobot. “Sam doesn’t know you’re alive, does he.”

The radio flicked on but turned off immediately as if hoping I wouldn’t notice. I huffed a laugh, “Aha! Nope. I saw that.” After a moment of silence, I picked through my words and ended up saying, “It’s alright that you are. Just… keep him safe, alright? He’s like family to me.”

“Don’t worry, darlin’.”

~=*=~

Despite my words, I ended up soapy, drenched, and angrily chasing Sam across his father’s precious grass.

After changing into one of Sam’s clean shirts, we went for a drive, just to enjoy ourselves and the sweet ride he’d managed to get. I asked if I could drive, and reluctantly Sam parted with the steering wheel to let me drive. Partway through my turn driving, we noticed a police car following us. It was not especially hard considering there was barely anybody on the streets at this time. I glanced at the speedometer. “Huh. We’re going the legal limit.”

“They’re probably going the same way we are. Don’t worry,” Sam reasoned.

I frowned but tried to dismiss my paranoia. I took a few turns until we were heading back the way we came. The car behind us took the same turns too.

“Sam…” My voice sounded very worried. After that bit with the police and my dad, I didn’t feel comfortable around authority.

“Okay, yeah, that’s a bit weird,” Sam admitted, “Why don’t you pull over and we can switch seats? It’ll be quick.”

I turned the wheel gently into the side of the road and with a bit of trouble we switched places. Sam’s barely put his hands on the wheel when the car we were in suddenly bolted forward.

“That wasn’t me!” Sam yelled frantically.

“I know!”

Sam glanced at me quickly then back at the road, yelling, “What do you mean you know?!”

“I’ll explain later!” I yelled back.

We didn’t know where Bumblebee was taking us, but I knew that anywhere the ‘police car’ wasn’t, was probably a better place. The only trick was getting Sam to calm down and listen to a frankly crazy story.

“No, no, no, no, I’m too young for jail! I can’t turn the wheel!”

My best friend was using all his strength to pull the car to the side of the road. I put a hand firmly on Sam’s shoulder. “Sam… Sam! Stop fighting it, it’ll make it worse!”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Sam… I have a crazy story to tell you, but now’s not the time. That car behind us? They’re dressed up to look like a police car, but they aren’t. For one,” I turned in my seat to look behind us at the police car, looking for something before continuing, “you can barely tell, but the driver is flickering like an old TV. That ain’t normal.”

Sam also set his eyes on the rear-view mirror and squinted. Good on my word, the driver’s whole being flickered just long enough to be noticeable.

“Holy shit,” Sam whispered loudly.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

Eventually it seemed we were done running from the car behind us, and we were forcefully thrown out of the Autobot. When the two cars both transformed into metal titans, I knew that now was the time to start running. I heaved myself onto my feet and dragged Sam with me.

“What… what did you mean earlier, about… a crazy story?” Sam huffed.

“Still… not the… time!” I responded, focusing on running. “Oh my god.. we’re being followed by a minicon!”

Sam didn’t know what a minicon was, but my audible alarm was enough to get him to look, only to notice Frenzy loping toward us. “Nooo… this isn’t happening… What do they want from us?!”

...

.... Aaaand that’s all I wrote. Haha.

#my fanfiction #greyscales #drabble #in the shoes of mikaela banes #unfinished #mentions of dysfunctional family #mentions of emotional abuse

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tinycrow · 2 years

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Don’t say you’d rather walk

Okay, I started writing this fic again. It’s slow and steady. Months ago I started a new job and I found that whenever I wasn’t working I was too tired and unmotivated to do anything productive.

Dunno if anyone from those fics will see this, but here’s a snippet of the next chapter.

~doop de woop Chapter 16 snippet~

We hold each other’s servos and talk quietly for what feels like hours to me, and even after I pull away to stretch my legs, Bumblebee hovers by like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. Fair enough, I think, considering how long I was in a coma. I just bare my denta in what feels like an awkward attempt at a smile, before attempting to focus on making my movements more graceful and natural. I feel more flustered than earlier when I was just with Ratchet and the other ‘bot. Sideswipe, is it?

Bumblebee catches me when I nearly fall again. I vent a little sharply, feeling my body temperature rise. This is embarrassing. I feel like this shouldn’t be this hard.

I don’t notice yet that Optimus is standing by, watching Bumblebee and I intently. He glances to Ratchet once and a silent conversation is had, before his optics are on us again.

When Optimus speaks suddenly, with me in Bumblebee’s servos, I can feel myself being pulled slightly to the yellow scout. I glance at Bumblebee’s face, which doesn’t give away much, before turning my gaze to the Autobot commander with confusion. I can feel my wings twitch in attention, the ‘unmuted’ areas on my wing near the recent welds aching slightly from the movement. It seems Ratchet didn’t mute the sensory data from the entire wing.

#fanfiction #greyscales #don't say you'd rather walk #fanfic update #WIP snippet

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tinycrow · 2 years

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Just watching Card Captor Sakura: Clear Card and Tomoyo is the cutest and funniest of the entire show. Also I think I could get diabetes watching Sakura and Syaoran interact. Ahhh I love this series and CCS!! 💖 (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) 💖

Tomoyo: It’s too dangerous for me to go with Sakura. It’s up to you now, Kero!! *plop*

#CCS #Card Captor Sakura #Clear Card

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tinycrow · 2 years

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Mama Fortuna

C-06: Double Trouble, or Trouble Continued

Someone actually liked chapter 5 of this series. That really cheered me up, because if someone can like a series I absolutely didn’t plan on continuing and thought was a failure, then maybe it’s worth continuing! This is dedicated to cordypuff (https://cordypuff.tumblr.com/) ! Dunno if this’ll be up to standard, but I tried. Ha 😊

~*~

Anyone who has ritually experienced hot summers without AC can tell you that there’s a certain sound to hot days. Bugs buzzing in the leaves and grass, the constant in and out fading wisps of wind that barely keep you cool enough to function, and maybe the sound of TV/music/talking in another room. In the city, there’s also the sound of traffic, hustling of pedestrians, and general hum of machinery (including your neighbour’s AC, the lucky bastard). The days in the city for someone unaccustomed to them can be miserable on a cloudless, blazing day like today.

Humans are just so loud. Their world is loud. If he has to spend any more time in this city, he’s going to break protocol as well as something else if you know what he means.

It doesn’t help that there’s living organisms everywhere… in his grill, on his tires, and ugh—what is that white stuff on his windshield? He doesn’t want to know. He just wants it off. You know what, just remove him from this entire planet.

He’s miserable here, and his search for his comrades isn’t getting anywhere. If his comm among other things weren’t broken, he’d be hopefully away from here and probably have access to a shower… some wax… paint. Energon would be nice, but that’s been in short supply since the war started so that’s just a given by now.

Through alternative means he signals to another before he tears out of the paved parking lot toward an outbound road.

In his mirrors he sees a red Corvette tearing after him and scoffs at his brother’s blasphemous excitement and cheer audible through the subtle vibrations of his roaring engine. His own engine is impossibly quiet for a car of its make, but it signals his unwillingness to admit the small relief in the ludicrous speeds they move at.

~*~

Linda and I barely make it onto the road when a claw swipes at our bumper, tearing it partially from her truck and pinning us down. A sheer scream pierces my eardrums like a dagger along with the sound of tearing metal and screeching tires. I’m not even looking at the road ahead, body contorted in my seat to keep eyes on the monstrosity just meters behind us. It’s as if a fog of panic has descended on me and I don’t really know what I’m saying to Linda, just urging her to drive over and over. What else am I to say? This situation is out of my control.

As if fate is giving us a break for once, the truck manages to tear cleanly from the bumper and peels off down the road with such suddenness that we waver across the road until Linda regains control. Blessedly, a ringing silence is what I experience next as her screaming peters out. With my eyes still focused behind us, I see us gain distance, and a small relief can be felt… until our aggressor whips around in place, a swirling mass of metal that turns back into an expensive super car.

… Right. The aliens can do that. I’d almost forgotten. Though being around my babies should have prepared me for this, with the little ones also being able to transform, it wasn’t like they turned into massive vehicles that could move at tremendous speeds. My little ones were nothing like these guys. It was hard to imagine them ‘growing up’ into the humongous and sharp-edged mecha warrior chasing after me and Linda now.

The space between us and our monster is decreasing as my mind struggles to focus on solutions to this problem. Embarrassingly, I hadn’t thought that far yet. Granted, I knew what I wanted to do. I’d killed one of these aliens before. I’d instinctively felt for nearby metal (in the first case, probably pipes buried below the asphalt) and speared him right through the chassis, killing them somehow. I don’t know if I could have done that as easily with only asphalt and dirt… which is all that I have now.

I’m sweating profusely at this point and almost tearing at my dark locks with shaking hands. I feel panicked and utterly useless, reliant on Linda and her truck. I want to scream or cry in frustration as the car behind us easily reaches us, nicking us and sending us swerving again. Linda doesn’t scream, neither do I, but her whimpers are somehow clear in my mind as, in a last-ditch effort, I point my hand out the rear-view window and desperately reach for that little something again.

What I expected to be another small shockwave turns into an explosion that sends the monster—but also us—tumbling dangerously. For a second I see a beacon of light tearing into the sky, and that’s the last thing I see before the truck rolls and my head collides with something, knocking me out.

~*~

“Ray… Ray, please, oh my god. Please don’t die. Oh god. There’s so much blood.”

A hysteric laugh. “Of all things, you had to forget to wear your seat belt. I’m-“ Hic. “-I’m not going to let you live this down.”

Crying.

Static.

“Stop! Don’t come closer!”

Screaming.

~*~

When I come to, the world is different.

Human vision, while not perfect, is still pretty good compared to other living things. What I’m experiencing now is almost like… like I’m seeing more colours than there should logically be. It’s hard to describe.

Something in the air makes my ears feel funny and my hands tingle. I groan, and I notice something different about that too. When you talk there’s the sensation of air passing through the throat usually, but that’s gone now.

I push myself into a sitting position in the midst of what seems to be wreckage of some sort. I glance around, and I see dark red everywhere. It’s on almost every surface and a pool of it surrounds me. A pit forms in my stomach as I wonder what the hell happened here.

It hits me that this is the site of an accident, and then a second later an ache radiates throughout my skull as the events of before come rushing forth.

I shakily get onto my feet. Something about my weight distribution is different, and I fall over. I look at myself. I pull at my tattered clothes and examine the skin underneath. The skin is perfect, and I mean perfect. I don’t seem to have any broken bones, and the muscles are unbruised—possibly even stronger than I remember them being. I lift and drop, then lift and drop my arm a bit and notice an odd heaviness there, but not much else.

Weirded out but not seeing much to be panicked over yet, I turn to my surroundings next. Linda’s truck is gutted and almost unrecognizable. A huge swathe of the chassis is missing around where I was situated, and the front/engine is just gone, just bits and pieces where it would logically be. The bed of the truck is mostly intact, though it’s partially eaten into, and it’s how I recognize this as Linda’s.

I must be experiencing Shock, because I just stare at the mess of metal and blood for a while. I don’t know how long it is until I manage to snap out of it, finally realizing that I am alone.

~*~

Linda thought the day she died to the first monster she encountered was a bad day. She has some perspective now, to say the least.

Her muscles burn and her body feels like lead as she stumbles down the road in the direction they originally came from. Her comm is silent, probably broken in the crash. She’s probably walked a few miles by now, trying to reach some form of building or car. She was so, so tired, but she keeps going. The motivation of finding help is her sole driving force. It isn’t just her that needs the help, but her friend bleeding out in the crash back there. She refuses to think her friend is dead.

Her mind replays the last minutes before the car flipped. There was the sound of an explosion behind her that rippled right before she was thrown against the seatbelt. All she remembers from flipping over and over is fear and confusion. In the end, she was bruised and bleeding, but miraculously fine. However… her truck was totalled, and the door wouldn’t open and there was so much blood and in the seat next to her was-

Linda grits her teeth and swallows the bile rising in her throat. She desperately tries to stop thinking about it, telling herself to just focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

Another couple of monsters appeared, and a titanic battle started that ignited her every instinct to leave. She couldn’t do anything for her friend here. She needed to reach somebody. Somebody human.

She’s so tired.

The sound of an engine from behind her make her blood go cold.

Please don’t be another monster, she begs silently.

A red Corvette rolls up, and a voice can be heard from its cabin through its open window. She immediately notices that no one is driving and tries to speed up, though she has no energy to spare and no chance in hell of ditching a sports car on foot.

“Hey! Hey you. Human. You need help, I’m offering it. Don’t worry, the ‘bad guy’ is dead.”

Her jaw trembles as she tries not to whimper pathetically. “Leave me alone,” she says not at all assertively.

“Hey now, don’t be like that. I know we’re a bit scary, but I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to help.”

Linda is silent for a bit. She walks. The Corvette follows alongside her at a crawl. After a bit, the Corvette’s passenger door facing her opens as if to entice her.

“Come on…”

“Why do you all come after us? We didn’t do anything to you.”

The words are out before she can stop them.

“What? You mean the other guy? I don’t know why they were after you, but I sensed All-Spark energy from roughly your location before we found you. That could be why they were after you.”

Linda is confused at this supposed explanation, but mostly angry and defensive.

“So you’re not with the mon—the other guy?” Her voice trembles with emotion, though inwardly she feels just a tad relieved. It’s not enough to be at ease around the Corvette, but she feels confident enough to talk. It’s all she can do beside walk, anyway. It helps that the Corvette could’ve probably stood up and killed her by now and hasn’t.

“No,” The Corvette says simply but firmly, “Never.”

Linda actually stops at this, and though she’s filled with fear and apprehension, she considers accepting the Corvette’s help.

“My comm is broken. I can’t contact my father or brother, and my friend was bleeding out back there last I saw,” Linda says, “She needs help.”

“My brother is back there near your damaged vehicle. He won’t touch your friend, but he’ll stick around until I come back. Why don’t we go back for your friend and get you the help you need.”

At her hesitation, the red car continues, “It’ll be fast. I promise.”

She can’t believe she’s considering this. But she accepts, pulling herself grudgingly to his… to him.

#my fanfiction #mama fortuna #greyscales #transformers

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tinycrow · 2 years

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i-ki-ka-ta ga suki yo... ikikaka ga suki yo.... ikitaka ga suki yo...

#singing #karaoke #sailor moon #moonlight densetsu

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tinycrow · 3 years

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Gasp! It’s the sign of the beast! I really am getting another Mooshi!

#starbound #frackin universe

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tinycrow · 3 years

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pfffft omg i think this is my favourite alternate timeline to the dread string au.

... oh noo bye adrien 👋😂... cheese and crackers

I think it would be funny if Marinette in the dread string au could just accidentally cut her string, like it gets twisted up in a piece she's making so when she goes to cut the raw edges and *gasp* oh noo bye Adrien 👋 (cue Marinette being confused but relieved, and for some reason Luka being m u c h more relaxed)

fvbjhfdkjgbfdgdfg the dramatic/sarcastic “*gasp* oh noo bye Adrien 👋“ made me laugh way too hard. So sad, so tragic.

Marinette glancing over her shoulder to look at Luka and his shoulders visibly relax. She blinks, looking back at the piece she was working on, then is just, “You didn’t have to worry. I know how to cut these things properly.”

He hadn’t been concerned about the piece, but you sure do, Marinette.

#MLB #funny

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tinycrow · 3 years

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Not sure what’s going on here but you tell ‘em! 😤

crow 106

#crows

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tinycrow · 3 years

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A minecraft toad. ❤️

#minecraft #toad

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tinycrow · 3 years

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Mama Fortuna

C-05: Trouble in Paradise

Note: This chapter just didn’t want to be written for some reason.

~*~

Though things hadn’t gone exactly to plan, they now had allies, resources, and a base of operations. The soldiers had honoured them with their bravery during the Mission City fiasco, and after the Decepticons were forced to retreat, Optimus Prime discussed with the appropriate human officials the importance of defence against the new threat.

Mission City remained a reminder to both humans and Autobots as to how important it was to unite against the Decepticon threat. NEST was born, and a new base was chosen.

Megatron’s body was buried in the ocean. The remaining shard was put under human protections after intense debate. It wasn’t ideal, but in the end, there wasn’t a better suggestion.

Guardians were chosen for the select humans that they had grown close to. Ironhide had gone with Major Lennox, and Bumblebee requested to stay with Sam Witwicky.

While Cybertronian life was a secret from most humans, there was hope that Earth could become a second home.

~*~

Oh my god.

I kneel next to the woman and put my index and ring finger to her throat to check for her pulse. Finding it, I then put my ear near her mouth to listen for breathing. She’s not breathing. I need to call for help.

What’s stopping me? I glance at the huge and lifeless metal body of an alien nearby. Being in a less populated part of town, there are no other witnesses, as far as I know. However, this woman needs help, and I cannot call for an ambulance or the police. It would call all sorts of attention, and none of it good.

There’s gotta be something I can do. I hover my shaking hands over the woman’s body. She’s organic. There is no way this is going to work. But I’m going to try anyway.

A quick flash lights the walls of the nearby buildings. In that brief moment, I can feel this woman’s spirit, such a kind and generous spirit, as my power moves through her body to fix the damage to her lungs. She’s changing. There was no other way about it. I feel regret for what I have done, but I remind myself that I have limited options.

The woman takes a gasping breath but doesn’t open her eyes. In relief, I then turn to my next problem. The alien.

What in the world am I going to do with this?

Hands still shaking, a grim expression forms on my face as I consider my options. If I heal him, he will just come after me and my family. If I don’t, someone will eventually notice the body and a different kind of attention will come here. I could bury him, maybe. It might be hard, considering how big he is.

I stare at the conjured metal spike that is piercing their metal heart. The alien had somehow noticed the presence of my children, even though they were in their alternative forms. As the alien posing as a car transformed into a large mech, I could only stare in panic.

I hadn’t noticed the woman close by until an unholy shriek pierced my eardrums. She was grabbed, and I could only imagine that her ribs were broken when she suddenly passed out. I made my move out of desperation in that moment, and the nearby concrete gave way to a metal spike that luckily took the mech out. The alien would’ve never expected a human to be able to do that. I was lucky they underestimated me.

Swaying in exhaustion, I wonder if I have the strength to bury my aggressor. Emboldening myself with grim determination, I stomp the ground once. Then twice.

It takes a few tries, but the mech is completely buried. Sort of. A piece of them is showing, but I don’t have the strength to do anymore. As long as no one looks closely, I’m sure it’ll be okay.

~*~

“Novatron is offline. Their last location was a small town in North America.”

A low growl and a curse in a foreign language fills the otherwise silent space.

“And?”

“Their course was altered to avoid an asteroid in their path, and they landed far from where we are. Their last transmission reported a strange energy signature and the appearance of small Cybertronians of unknown affiliation.”

“So, there were Mini-bots. Why is this of concern to us?”

“Novatron was convinced they were not Mini-bots. They sent us a voice sample they overheard.” A 5-second sample was played.

“Sunshine, I know you’re excited, but you need to be quiet.”

Chitter. Beep. Chirr. Young, barely restrained excitement.

Many voices started talking as soon as the sample finished. They knew what those sounds meant, and if it was true, they hadn’t been heard in millennia.

“You, go investigate. If possible, bring back the sparklings. Do not let the Autobots find out what we are doing.”

~*~

“Hey, wake up. Wake up. Please open your eyes.” I gently shake the woman. I can’t carry a full-grown woman by myself, and dragging might hurt her. So, I am insistent on waking her from her place on the concrete.

A groan escapes her lips and her eyelids flutter open. She jerks awake and away from me.

Seeing her about to scream, I hold up a finger to my mouth. “Please don’t scream!”

She freezes, looking around frantically and then locking her eyes on mine. “What- Who are you? Where is that—that thing? “

“I’ll answer those questions in a bit, but first you need to know that you are safe. I killed the one that attacked you.”

It takes a second for my words to register. Her eyes narrow in suspicion and disbelief. I certainly don’t look like much, and I am seemingly unarmed.

I interrupt her thought before she can start, “Yeah, I know how I look. Kinda hard to believe. It wasn’t easy... look, I know you have questions, but if you really want answers, you’re going to have to trust me enough to go someplace safe to talk. Or, you can go back home and pretend this never happened. The choice is yours.”

“I don’t even know you, and you want me to come with you. Who are you?”

I sigh. “You can call me Ray. Do you want answers, or do you want to walk away?”

She considers my question, before hesitantly nodding and replying, “I need to know what just happened, and what that thing was. Please.”

Her look is so desperate that I feel a surge of compassion for this poor woman. Her world is about to be rocked to its foundation. I smile genuinely sympathetic at her and stand up. I offer my hand, and she takes it after only a second of pause.

“I found this great restaurant in town. How about we get to know each other on our way there?”

~*~

A couple weeks later...

“Linda! Linda!”

Said woman sets down her shopping bags in time to be jumped by metal children. Seeing this happen from my station near the stove, I call out with a stern voice, “Sunshine! Ellie! What have I said about jumping on humans?”

“-not to,” the two say simultaneously.

“Get down.”

Without much of a fuss, they obey. It hasn’t been the first time I’ve had to remind them.

Linda spares a lopsided smile for them as she turns to me to say, “Aw, it’s not so bad. It’s kind of cute... No need to be so serious, Ray.” She turns to her bags, waving the children away and rustling through them.

“It won’t be so cute when they get bigger.”

The woman looking through her shopping bags freezes for a second, and I side-eye her. She has been taking all of this remarkably well, but I know that she still has moments of terror when she remembers or dreams about the alien that she saw on the day we met.

“They have a couple ‘frames’ to go through before they reach their full size. Sunshine will be pretty small still, though Ellie may be the size of a human one day.”

No response from her. I continue speaking as if nothing is wrong, “They love you, you know.” They would never hurt you, I try to say between the lines. “I think knowing a human other than me is helping socialize them. I’ve seen them copying our mannerisms sometimes. It’s really cute.”

Some colour comes back into Linda’s cheeks. I smile encouragingly at her, and she gives a small smile back.

I joke, “So, what dost thou bring from yonder town?”

“I picked up that milk you texted me about. I bought some cereal—don’t look at me like that, you need to eat something in the morning. It’s the most important meal of the day!”

I restrain myself from whining and simply pout. My soup seems to be done heating and I lift it off the stove to pour into a bowl on the kitchen table. I look up to see Linda taking some metal scraps out of her bag.

“Woah, what’s that you got there?”

“Some junk we were going to throw away. I thought you’d appreciate it. Don’t let anyone know I gave it to you, though.”

“Is that all of it?”

“There’s more in my truck. I didn’t want to take too much or it would be suspicious.”

I whistle lowly. Just by this alone, I can tell that trusting this kind woman was a good call. I remember how scared she was when we talked in the restaurant, and how much I wanted to hide my babies from her. Fear has always been a motivator for terrible acts in human history... not that I remember where I’ve learnt that, considering my circumstance. It makes an interesting read now, however.

“How far along is the construction?” I ask her, taking a spoonful of soup and noisily slurping hot liquid.

We talk for a few minutes about her work in construction before we hit a lull in the conversation.

“Ray...” She says, catching my attention. I look at her inquiringly, but she doesn’t continue.

So, I prompt her, “Yes?”

“... I’ve been thinking.”

Now I’m wary. For the short time that I’ve known her, I’ve known she was kind and generous, but sometimes... there’s a flash of stubbornness, of determination to succeed in whatever she sets her mind to. I start having a feeling that whatever it is, I won’t be able to talk her out of it.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to start my own company. I just didn’t have the money or means to.”

My stomach churns with anxiety, and I get an inkling as to where this is going. The problem is, should I let it get there? We haven’t known each other for very long, despite how it feels like we’ve known each other for forever. After a tense moment, I make a decision. I would stand my ground, but I wouldn’t shoot her idea down until I hear her out.

“I see, and now?” I ask.

~*~

I’ve been getting random surges of anxiety when I’m out in town. I really can’t say where the feeling is stemming from, but considering the attack a couple weeks ago, I’m guessing it’s not good.

Both Linda and I decide it’s time to move, and boy is it an expensive one. I pay my renter for the current and next month I promised I’d be living in the farmhouse for, which would have brought my savings down if I didn’t sell the minerals I was creating in my spare time. With Linda’s guidance and help, we set up what would be the foundations of our ‘family company’, “Davis and Weber Co.”. Beside Linda and I, her brother and father are the only ones brought in on our secret. The humble farmhouse becomes a truck stop as, beside the Ford pickup Linda owns, both males bring a couple moving trucks to help me move my limited furniture, the ‘coffee machine’, and the materials I’ve been collecting with Linda’s help. The pickup trucks were one of the first purchases by the company.

I’m not sure what Linda told her boss, but she is free from her former job. She has been handling permits, selling, and purchases for our new company since then, though I know she had help from her father with that.

As for me, I’ve been getting better at creating small gadgets with aid from my powers and increasingly conscious knowledge, though nothing alive yet. A simple but secure communication device was one of the most recent, and we decided to test them on the road to the new warehouse we bought a few days’ journey from our current location. It looks like a standard earpiece with a mic, but has a barely noticeable black square—a fingerprint reader that works as a locking mechanism and an on-off button. The devices send data on an encrypted channel that is not usual for its kind. The hardest part was getting the fingerprint reader to work.

“Testing, one, two...”

“I hear you, James. Linda?”

“I hear you and dad. Oli?”

“Mama, Ellie is being mean,” we all hear on the com, and I resist the urge to face-palm.

“I’m here. I hear dad, sis, and Ray.”

“Mama! Sunshine hit me!”

“No, I didn’t!”

When I hear scuffling in one of the trucks, I walk up to it and move the mic away from my mouth as I bang the side of the truck. “Hey! Break it up! Don’t make me go in there!” The fighting stops, and I walk back to Linda’s pickup truck, moving the mic back to my mouth. “It’s a long ride, and I don’t want any unwanted attention on us, okay? There’s a lot of dangerous people out there.”

Everyone shifts uncomfortably at my statement. Linda’s brother and father both were told how Linda and I met, and it was accepted that aside from greedy humans wanting me and my babies for crazy new tech, hostile aliens might also.

“Sunshine, Ellie, do you understand?”

My voice isn’t loud, but they can tell I’m serious. I get a couple of quiet assents. I nod to myself and hop into the passenger side as Linda gets into the driver’s seat.

“Alright, let’s roll.”

~*~

We’re about a day into the journey when we see some suspicious activity around our small fleet of trucks. I turn around to look at the car tailing us, it’s an expensive car... and the only car for miles.

“It’s stalking us. It knows.”

“Just... keep cool,” I say lamely, even as I feel my body tense, “It could be coincidence that they’re on the road with us.”

“Guys, I see more super cars,” Oliver warns.

The car immediately tailing us changes into the oncoming lane and speeds up to just in front of us. It’s done so quickly that we don’t have much time to react. I barely have time to notice the car has no driver when it turns back into our lane, effectively blocking us in with the other car quickly coming up behind us.

“Linda, that’s—“ I start, but she cuts me off.

“—I know!”

The car in front of us stands up, and if it wasn’t for the fact that we were surrounded by empty farmland, we would’ve crashed trying to avoid it. Swears fill the com. I fear for my life as Linda’s truck swerves over a ditch and barbed fence, coasting into an empty field. The other two trucks stop hurriedly, Oliver’s truck barely slamming into the back of James’.

I jump out of Linda’s truck and sprint toward the truck with my babies.

“Everyone quiet on the com and if you can, run! Babies, stay there. Remember, it’s just like we practiced.”

Silence. I’m glad for it as I see the metal giant get a grip on the truck in front of them. I see the form of Linda’s dad (James) curling forward and down to avoid the shattering windshield glass. My legs and lungs burn as I try to get there as fast as I can. I can hear Linda’s voice behind me telling me to wait, but I simply cannot do that.

There are no pipes underground or metal around me to use, so I’m not sure what I can do to stop this one. If only I was stronger, more experienced... My eyes water as I reach desperately inward to that power that has been slowly growing. I reach my hand out to James’ truck. Please, save them.

A spark lights my fingers briefly, before an unseen wave of something knocks the air out of everyone. It even makes the giant stop. Then, they look at me.

Oh, shit. I dig my heels in and change direction. Linda shouts in alarm behind me and I grab her as I run back to her truck.

“Change of plan, Lin, we’re going to run.” I cup my hand around the mic and whisper harshly, “We’ll see if we can lead them away. Head to the warehouse.”

“What?” Linda asks fearfully, but I pat her shoulders and look her straight in the eye.

“No time for debate, Lin. Let’s go!”

#my fanfiction #mama fortuna #greyscales #transformers

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tinycrow · 3 years

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I don’t believe in miracles

Chapter 5: To keep you safe

General Rules for citizens of the Antarctic City (abridged):

The following rules are subject to change.

No divulging of any secrets of the Antarctic City to anyone not listed as a citizen of the Antarctic City. Secrets are—but not limited to—the location of said city, technology, or the names/existence of other citizens of the Antarctic City.

No theft/removal of technology, resources, or sparklings (youngest frame, also known as ‘the children’) from the boundaries of the Antarctic City. This excludes food, drink, and most luxuries, which can all be replaced.

Lying about acquisitions using funding from the Antarctic City is a punishable offence.

No unauthorized ground bridge (Gate Room) access.

No unauthorized defence system access.

No unauthorized forge access.

Hacking into any network and evading the appropriate methods of access is a punishable offence.

No illegal street-fighting.

No illegal street-racing.

One month later...

Even though they butted helms sometimes over the care of sparklings, Ratchet not only got his permits but also gained Ray’s confidence within a month after the first visit, though he didn’t know it yet. It was a persistent month spent at the Antarctic City with little Decepticon activity elsewhere in the world and no serious injuries to mend. Sideswipe did manage to damage part of his arm from messing with his blaster, which brought more of Ironhide’s ire than Ratchet’s own.

All the Autobots managed to get at least two visits to the strange city by that time except for Optimus, who had spent the entire month trying to dismiss the humans’ worries about their prisoner escaping. All in all, it was a good month, considering the circumstances.

It was a nervous but perky Ray that greeted the Autobots in the Gate Room, again.

“Hi, Ratchet! Oh, hey Sideswipe!”

“You don’t need to greet us here every time. We know the way by now,” Ratchet grumped, though with no real fire behind it.

Sideswipe grinned, skating smoothly around her as he remarked, “Well, I’m not complaining. Hey, gorgeous.”

Ray audibly vented air to lower her core temperature. She could give it but not take it, it seemed.

“Yes, well,” Ray scrambled to say, “It’s—it’s nice to see you again.”

Highly amused by her reaction, Sideswipe responded, “It’s- It’s nice to see you, too.”

“Don’t you start,” Ratchet warned.

“You worry too much, Hatchet.”

Sideswipe skated over to the door, and turned around to face Ray, servos on his hips. “We should get some Energon sometime.”

Ray’s optics focused intensely on the cocky frontliner. Ratchet seemed to frown at him.

“Yes. Let’s,” she said sweetly, keeping it short to avoid stuttering.

When the warrior left, the medic turned to Ray, a question in his optics.

“Do you mind if I accompany you for a while? Otherwise I can just head to the forge to make some tools.”

Ray jumped a little when he spoke, which confused Ratchet even more. He tensed, thinking back to figure out what he may have done to warrant that behaviour.

“Did I do something wrong? I apologize if I did—”

“No, no, no,” Ray responded fervently, “I’m just a little nervous... there’s something I wanted to show you.”

Ratchet calmed, and patiently waited for her to explain.

She started, “You’ve been very patient and... consistent, this past month. I really appreciate you taking what I said to heart—or, er, to spark. Ratchet, I think I can safely say I trust you.”

His optics widened in understanding.

“Follow me. I want to show you the Nursery.”

The door was deadlocked and secured by a number of physical and electronic methods. She even went so far as to explain the traps/weapons hidden in the wall and floor that would even stall a Cybertronian in the event of attempted break-in. Passing through the door, he noted the thickness of the walls, indicating layers of material that would insulate from not only heated blasts, but possibly other kinds of radiation. It would protect from most kinds of intrusion as well. Also, the placement of the building was conveniently near the Gate Room, so there’s easy evacuation. He was impressed but not at all surprised at how secure this building was. Surely, if the All-Spark had truly passed on its power, it had chosen one of the most paranoid mothers of their children. What did those humans call her?

Mother bear.

Shaking his helm, Ratchet turned his attention to the small crowd of impossible little lives, and their small blue or green optics staring up at him. Oh, this brought him back. There used to be so many young lives on Cybertron, too. The loss of the youth sectors was still felt today, millennia after.

Ray’s servo met his back, and in a show of compassion, patted him and crooned consolingly. Ratchet eventually gathered his composure and relaxed. Her servo lifted, but she still looked at him warily. He nodded to indicate he was alright.

“Being the only being capable of addressing any hurt or other problems with them, I used to be their only caretaker,” she told him, “but that number has expanded to include a number of older children as well as humans.”

“Who is watching them now?”

“There were a couple humans and one of my older younglings watching over them, but I told them to take a break while we’re here. Feeding time comes a bit later. We can watch them do so if you’d like.”

There was a break in conversation for a bit as Ratchet visually examined the little ones. Eventually, Ratchet broke the silence.

“I’m curious... why is it that you decided to make more of our kind? Especially in the current political climate. I know you’re aware of our war coming to Earth.”

Ray hummed, thinking on how to answer.

“Well, it’s a little hard to explain,” she said. “It’s like an urge. I know logically I could’ve just hidden and waited for more peaceful times. But something in me was... not quite telling me, but... urging me to do something. When Linda suggested I make a place of my own, then I realized what I wanted to do.”

She picked up one of the fussier children in a firm hold and held them near to her spark. The little one calmed, and Ratchet watched as she brought them to one of the rooms. He tried to move to follow, but a bunch of curious bodies stopped him. A couple obviously older children watched him warily from afar.

The sparklings chirped at him inquiringly, wide eyes blinking and focusing on him intently.

He softened and kneeled down carefully. “Hello, little ones,” he tried in Cybertronian.

They chirped and clicked in understanding, excitement causing them to bounce in place. One of the larger frames grabbed his hand and tried to lead him to where surprisingly a few Cybertronian-styled games were. He wondered at how Ray knew about these, for not being born on Cybertron. Sparklings of their kind were born fast learners and needed games that would challenge and stimulate their minds in ways different from humans. These games were just the kind they needed. Though he felt a little too old to play these, he acquiesced and let himself be led into a game with the children.

When Ray came back from the other room, it was to the sight of a too-large Ratchet sitting down at one of the games practicing math, reaction time and judgment. He was surrounded by tiny bodies making encouraging noises. She smiled sappily, and simply stood nearby with arms crossed.

She did not regret anything in that moment.

Linda was laughing at her.

“Man, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous before,” the woman remarked with great amusement.

The much taller femme was pacing and occasionally wiping down imaginary dirt/smudges on her plating with a large cloth. Her voice dripped with embarrassment and nerves as she almost pleaded with her human best friend, “Linda, it has been too long since I’ve been on a date with someone. What do I talk about? What do we do?”

“Woah, slow down. I imagine it’s just like how you would go for coffee with someone. You ask them about their day, how they’ve been doing, how’s work, ask them questions about themselves like... ‘Do you have any hobbies’ or ‘Do you like jazz’.”

Ray, tired of being nervous, stopped pacing and muttered reassuringly to herself, “Right, right.”

“Hey, look at me,” Linda called to her, and the femme did so, “You’ve got this. You’re a good person, and great to be around. If they get bored or whatever, that’s their problem and not yours.”

“Thanks, Lin’.”

“You know, we should go for coffee sometime, too. Maybe you won’t get kidnapped this time.”

They both laughed, even though they doubted it.

Later in the day, Ray went to the Gate Room. The console had no one manning it because it wasn’t a workday for the warehouse workers. To her knowledge, there weren’t any other planned ground bridges. It would be her job to open the gate for her ‘date’. She checked her internal clock and decided to briefly comm them asking if it was all clear. Receiving the OK, she walked up to the console. A few taps to its controls brought the shining feat of engineering to life.

In a much more relaxed fashion than the usual, Sideswipe rolled in through the bridge. Ray’s countenance brightened when she saw him, and forgetting her nerves for a moment, she greeted him like usual. His neutral expression broke into a lopsided grin when he saw her.

“Why, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he teased.

A little used to his teasing by now, she simply placed a servo on her hip and replied, “I could say the same to you, handsome.” Her spark quivered nervously in her chest.

“You can close the ground bridge. It’s only me today.”

As she closed the bridge, something niggled in the back of her processor that something was up with the mech. It was distracting. She just couldn’t place what it was. His demeanour didn’t give away that anything was wrong, he looked fine and relaxed, but something...

“You know,” Ray said, pretending to think, “You look like you could use a drink.”

Sideswipe joked back, “I’m surprised I hadn’t thought of that.”

She giggled and stepped toward the door with him in tow. Before they could leave the general warmth of the building, she raised her arm, stopping him. He focused on her with a questioning tilt of his helm. Her happy expression darkened to something less cute, and she looked him up and down with a considering rumble from her vocaliser. Not expecting this forwardness, he didn’t have a comeback ready. He felt something stir in him as he opened his dermas to say something.

She interrupted softly, “I was joking earlier, but you really do look like you could use a drink.”

Sideswipe simply blinked at her, having to go back and reframe her earlier action as... Was that concern? How’d she even—aaand she was gone.

He was fast to follow her out the building. They weren’t that far from the Energon dispensary, as it was apparently called, so they didn’t bother driving. He rolled up beside her, and they slowed to a comfortable ambling pace.

Sideswipe examined his companion. She was the same height he was, which admittedly was great for a change. Her movements were smooth and her heel struts barely clacked when they touched the ground, traits that he would usually associate with a light-footed fighter or a dancer. He would need to see her run to know for sure. Her shoulders though gave her true feelings away—she was tense.

His earlier question of how she knew he wasn’t feeling alright was set aside. He started by asking her what she’s been up to, and how her children were. Her tone was nonchalant at first, but when she got to talking about her children, it shifted to something more genuine. She was invested in what she was saying. They continued talking about life in the city until they reached the dispensary.

This is nice, the femme thought. She realized suddenly that her earlier nerves had been vanquished by the trivial conversation. Talking to Sideswipe came surprisingly easy. Maybe she had been overthinking things again.

They entered the dispensary, seeing a couple of her children just chilling together with some cubes of Energon. They walked up to the dispenser and the nearby computer that served as the menu.

Dispensary? It looked like a bar. This sparked a mischievous thought in Sideswipe, and he nudged Ray.

“Hey, I just thought of something. Have you ever tried making high-grade?”

In retrospect, it was a bad idea. But Ray indulged him anyway. It’s not like she ever reached her daily/monthly limits for Energon.

“And then by complete coincidence it bounced into the ‘cons store of Energon, causing a rippling explosion. You can just imagine their anger as their precious Energon stores blew up. One. By. One. It was... beautiful,” Sideswipe said as he pretended to wipe a tear from his optics.

The two were leaning so heavily on the table that they were almost touching helms. They were grinning like loons, sharing stories of crazy events in their past. They didn’t seem to notice this, or that they attracted the curiosity of some younglings dining nearby.

“I can’t believe you. Reckless, that’s what you are,” Ray laughed, shoulders shaking.

Sideswipe insisted cockily, “It’s not recklessness if you know what you’re doing. Besides, you can’t tell me you’ve never done something reckless before.”

“Well... there was this one time with Linda where we had to run away from some cops.”

“Go on,” Sideswipe encouraged.

“We... I had the brilliant idea to cross this drawbridge. While it was opening. Linda did not approve.”

She halted, wondering if this story would be as amusing to him as his stories were to her. At Sideswipe’s insistence, she continued.

“I remember her clearly panicking screams as the bridge drew up. I wasn’t that great at driving at the time, and I had neither the power or momentum. We almost didn’t make it. At the last second though, I used a partial transformation to shift the weight of the car so we would land properly. But the chase didn’t end there.”

She shook her helm slightly as she recounted what happened.

“We had made good time because of the drawbridge, but then more cop cars came out of nowhere followed by helicopters. Lin’ and I were yelling at each other over what we should do when up ahead I spied a... gosh, what was it called.” Her optics dimmed as she recited what she searched for on the internet, “1998 Dodge Viper RT.”

When her optics brightened, the story continued, “It was also speeding. As soon as we cleared the helicopter, I transformed into that instead. Keep in mind I wasn’t that great at driving yet, so weaving through traffic was this crazy sedan that magically disappeared on the roadway.”

She wasn’t sure if her story was as funny as the ones he had told. To her relief, Sideswipe tittered in amusement. He commented, “I knew you had it in you.”

“What, to be a criminal?”

They shared a laugh.

After a while, Ray commented thoughtfully, “I’ve been switching alt forms for a while, though I haven’t found one I want to keep.”

He straightened suddenly at the mention, eyeing her critically and saying, “You know what would look good on you? I think...”

Many hours later, the two stumbled out of the ‘bar’, an undeniably inebriated Sideswipe holding up a completely plastered Ray.

His vocaliser skipped, hiccupped if you will, as he said, “Wh-oa, gorgeous. You don’t ha-ndle your high-grade well.”

“Youuuu,” she slurred impetuously, attempting to turn to face him.

The shifting weight caused Sideswipe to stumble a bit, but he managed to catch her before she could fall. He wasn’t so drunk that he didn’t realize how close their sparks were in this new position. He could feel his own pulsing faster as she looked up at him with those very green and very rare optics. Damn. Green is a nice colour.

He replied softly, “Me?”

“You keep saying tha-t,” she vocalised quieter, as if she was suddenly aware of how close they were.

He brought his helm closer to hers, asking, “Sa-ying what?”

“Gorgeousss,” she mumbled in reply.

Blinking, he smiled at her, “Just sta-ting how I see it. Do you want me to sto-p?”

She moved her helm closer, whispering, “No.”

:: Somewhere in the Indian Ocean ::

It was a very late and overcharged Sideswipe that slid quietly back through the ground bridge. Sending a comm to Ray, the bridge closed. He took a moment to straighten himself out. His fuel lines were filled with high-grade and his internal temperature was through the roof because he was suppressing his vents. He vented hard and relaxed as his temperature started dropping. It wasn’t so bad in the cold of Antarctica, but here it was much warmer.

He skated to the door, thinking up excuses to tell the others. He would have to avoid Ratchet for sure. As he opened the door, he startled as on the other side of the door was the very ‘bot he meant to avoid.

He sagged in defeat, muttering, “Slag.”

“Slag is right! Do you know how long we’ve been trying to contact you?”

“Aw, you do care!” Sideswipe joked, and then added, “Don’t worry about me, Ratchet. Just lost track of time.”

“Why are you venting so hard?” Ratchet’s optics narrowed in suspicion.

“Well it’s a little warm right now...” A scan hit him. “...And so I thought I’d chill for a bit—that’s really unnecessary.”

The sound of grinding metal reverberated as Ratchet bared his dentas at him. “Where in the pits of Kaon did you get that much high-grade?! You’re overcharged!”

:: Somewhere in America ::

All things considered, it could’ve gone much worse. While the Autobot leader didn’t so much care what his officers did in their off time, he cared about them ignoring their comms—intentional or not. Being enlisted in guard duty somewhere in the countryside with dirt clinging to every surface of his frame wasn’t the worst punishment. He wasn’t Sunny; he could take a bit of grime.

Granted, he was now forced to make conversation with some squishy organic he didn’t quite know, but he admitted the soldier he was ferrying wasn’t that bad. At least it got him out of that base in the middle of the ocean.

They were being sent to investigate a mysterious signal’s disappearance in a town close to their current position. Speaking of which, he could ‘see’ it now. He kept his senses alert, knowing that he could possibly be heading into a dangerous situation.

#my fanfiction #i don't believe in miracles #greyscales #transformers

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