#glitch/corr

[trudemaethien]

Glitch/Corr and hear <3

This got a bit graphic and gory😅, so…

HC: Corr sustained some hearing damage from the same event that took his arms, I don’t explicitly mention it here, but

The Force resonates with awe-inspiring vastness, full of sound and wonder, and most of the time Glitch loves to listen to it.

Sometimes it’s like that pesky brother who’s trying to get your attention to discuss his hairbrained theories and antics, for the fourty-third time, after curfew.

Glitch has a headache.

Before he knew what it was he was hearing, he got headaches a lot. He’s used to it. It doesn’t mean he likes it any better now than then.

He’s following, shut UP already!

A hand lands in the middle of his chest, halting him. “No civilians past the cordon,” a clone’s vocoder-leveled but still appreciably bored voice orders.

“I’m not, and I need to go there,” Glitch says, leaning into his words and the restraining hand. “You can let me in, I’m cleared.”

“You can go in…after you suit up. Since you’re cleared.”

The clone gestures to a heavy blast-suit, bulky and cumbersome. Glitch can’t function in that. He shifts his weight in preparation to move.

“He’s not cleared, Jack, what’s wrong with you?” another clone snaps, approaching. “Help me get this on; and you, scram.”

“Yes, Corporal,” Jack says, chastened. Sorry, he mouths at Glitch as the corporal straps on the extra armor.

The urgency is higher now, the Force like a klaxon in his head. Maybe there’s a klaxon out loud too, Glitch realizes, as the corporal hurries up, glancing toward the cordoned-off area.

“Corporal,” Glitch tries, “I need to—”

“To get the kriff out of my AoE and quit distracting me and my team,” the corporal says sharply. “We’re on the clock.”

Jack snaps the last clasp into place and taps twice next to the reinforced face shield like he’s patting the guy’s cheek. “Good to go!” he signs with his other hand in front of his face.

And go he does. Glitch can only watch as the demolitions corporal tramps across the ground to the device, not gracefully in that get-up, but with the ease of familiarity. Jack, he realizes, has a timer he’s gleefully counting off out loud.

“Corr’s a machine; fucker beat my time! I’m going to do him one better nex—”

.

…

So that’s what a bomb sounds like, is Glitch’s first dazed thought.

HOT, is his next. Something is crackling in his ears, and he looks around for Jack, for any of the others, and finds the world on fire with no one in sight. That adds up, he thinks nonsensically, and then looks at himself.

Shrapnel and slag are scattered all around him but not on or through his body, like the discolored dry shadow behind a retaining bulkhead hit by a wave. He—the Force—probably did that. He didn’t know he could do that.

Where’s Jack. The Force had probably wanted him to prevent this. The klaxon is still shrieking, or no—that’s too irregular.

Glitch follows the sound. The Corporal is struggling in his heavy suit of armor, trying to escape the burning crater. He can’t climb out for some reason, even though it’s only thigh-deep. Glitch grabs at him and then thinks better of touching the hot surface. He grabs him with the Force instead, and yanks him up and out.

He doesn’t see anyone else as he drags the Corporal to safety. Past the blast radius, he peels away the suit, slicing it with Rennax’s saber when it hardens too much.

He pulls the man free with difficulty. He’s slick with sweat and tears and blood, and not all of him comes free. Glitch almost hurls when he realizes the flexible gloves that allowed dexterity physically couldn’t shield as well as the rest of the get-up, and the meat of his arms up to the elbow is shredded off the equally shattered bones.

Tourniquets from his belt, not thinking about it, just applying them, then he hoists the trooper up, the whole time yelling, “Medic!”

The sole survivor of the blast clings to him with the stumps of his ruined arms and shakes with uncontrollable sobs. Relief and grief entwine with one another. “You. You got me. You heard me, you came,” he slurs. Accusation and gratitude are also inextricably bound in his tone.

Glitch wishes he could have done better, listened more carefully to the Force, actually prevented this from happening at all, but all he says is, “Yeah, I got you.” His own voice is hoarse and thick.

Neither of them let go until a medic takes the injured trooper to evac. Glitch watches him get loaded up, then regretfully turns away to follow the call of the Force once again.

Reverberating 🔒 https://archiveofourown.org/works/51595036

[pupsmailbox]

ELDRITCH ID PACK

NAMES︰ abacuc. abholos. abianak. aether. ahoth. aine. alala. alder. amadio. arkham. ba'al. basmach. bast. belial. blank. bonifatius. byagoona. byte. caelestoth. caine. calogerus. chaos. chrodechildis. cipher. clue. cthulu. custodia. cypher. daoloth. darkness. dethal. diaz. ebony. edwyn. elder. eldritch. elm. emereo. enigma. epiphagan. epoch. eternity. fortunatus. godid. habakkuk. han. haze. hitch. hydra. hynos. ieremahel. illuminathia. inpesca. istasha. juniper. kaiser. kallistos. kaos. kaprosistha. keme. kross. lapse. leto. lovecraft. luxoth. lythalia. maya. mechal. melekh. miasma. mirabilis. mirage. morana. mormo. mystery. nctolhu. nctosa. nightmare. nodens. noire. noxia. nyctelios. oddity. oroprimus. oroursus. ortun. oryx. oukranos. pandora. paradox. peregrinus. pseudo. pulse. renatus. rom. rowan. runa. rune. runfrid. sebek. sitheach. spy. sthanee. stitch. stranger. thasaidon. trojan. truth. unoch. user. veil. vibur. void. vulture. wylie. xitalu. yamath. yorith. zycanthe.

PRONOUNS︰ abso/absolute. absolute/absolute. answer/answer. blind/blind. book/book. chao/chao. chaos/chaos. cipher/cipher. claw/claw. clue/clue. code/code. confuse/confusion. corr/corrupt. corrupt/corrupt. cosmic/cosmic. curio/curio. curse/curse. cypher/cypher. danger/danger. dark/dark. death/death. deep/deep. deity/deity. delete/delete. depth/depth. destroy/destroy. dev/devour. devour/devour. diety/diety. doll/doll. dread/dread. eat/eat. eerie/eerie. eld/eld. elder/elder. eldritch/eldritch. en/en. end/end. eon/eon. ero/ero. error/error. eter/eternity. eternity/eternity. eye/eye. faith/faith. fear/fear. find/find. flesh/flesh. forgot/forgotten. glitch/glitche. glow/glow. god/god. hidden/hidden. hide/hide. hint/hint. horr/horror. horror/horror. hunt/hunt. hx/hxm. incompre/hensible. it/it. ix/ix. jolt/jolt. lack/lack. lord/lord. lost/lost. mad/mad. madness/madness. miasma/miasma. myst/myst. old/old. omen/omen. one/one. puppet/puppet. quiet/quiet. raven/raven. read/read. sanity/sanity. see/see. seek/seek. shx/hxr. space/space. spot/spot. spy/spy. star/star. stellar/stellar. step/step. string/string. submit/submission. sui/sui. that/thing. thon/thon. thxy/thxm. track/track. uncanny/uncanny. unknown/unknown. virus/viruse. void/void. what/what. whisper/whisper. ☄️ . 🎭 . 👁️ . 📜 . 🕳️ . 🧠 . 🧿 .

[crow-ooc]

notable relations

coral (colorful-glitch) - his deceased former moirail. does he hate them, or love them, or any infinitely-nuanced answer in-between? who knows. ask him yourself if you'd like.

path (terrifaecapathy) - they both went offline at the same time, were inactive at the same time, doxxed at the same time, went back online at the same time. there's more stuff but let's just say there's history.

bullet (bullettimetableture) - honestly, his red crush was hilariously obvious back then. but, well... ever since that, he's been a little... hm. things have happened.

grafitti (grafitti-translator) - first person outside of his mutuals he first talked to. also someone that he would genuinely kill if grafitti even comes within ten feet of him.

mutini (mutant-advice) - in denial. how does he feel about her? well. a lot of things to say the least.

yvette (real-seadweller-heir) - world's most unconventional duo. why is yvette hanging out with corr. who knows.

raveri (devoniandevotee) - this is another "it's complicated" scenario. things sure have happened between them! i don't think corr processed that confession from his asks properly.

kulpil (echoicthylacine) - they are nothing, and they will continue to be nothing.

ranndy (cathartictactician) - a moth drawn to a flame.

lusmut (cyanidecornaceae) - let's just say that he's also one of the ogs. 🥧

aya (gyratingass) - how are you supposed to react when a fellow jadeblood attempts to murder this guy you would also murder

[elendiliel]

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...

---

“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.

[quotablefanfiction]

Flickers cause the pixelation of the screen to get worse. [Error, Error, Error! File corrupted, Character File Shen 9 cORR-corrUpr---] Binary Code starts appearing in glitches. [System reboot neces̵s̵a̸r̶y̷.̸ ̸U̶s̷e̷r̵ ̶d̸o̶e̸s̴ ̷n̴o̸t̷ ̶h̶a̸v̵e̵ ̶a̷c̸c̸e̴s̷s̴ ̵t̷o̵ ̸A̷d̸m̴i̴n̸i̵s̷t̶r̵a̶t̵o̶r̴ ̴f̶u̵n̴c̴t̶i̷o̸n̴s̸.] The screen goes blue. What the actual fuck.

Shen Yuan does not know what is happening (chp. 1)

The Woes of Growing Pains by CheckersXIV (AO3) The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System – Teen – Liǔ Qīnggē/Shěn Yuán #Alternate Universe #Canon Divergence #Fluff #Humor #Shen Yuan’s temper #Shen Yuan’s cussing problem #Night hunts #Non-Canonical Violence #Pre-peak lords AU #Unreliable Narrator #Teens being… teens #Hand Jobs #Kissing #Underage Drinking #Bugs & Insects #Creative Liberties Taken

No one has ever had a successful time acclimating to transmigration.

At least, that’s what Shen Yuan tells himself after he accidentally breaks The System. It doesn’t help that he wakes up as a teenage disciple inside of the bane of his existence- Proud Immortal Demon Way. He’s trying to take precautions to avoid all the death flags that this stupid villain’s body of his is going to get him into, but some other disciple really seems to have it out for him...

Note: This is a restricted story and requires an AO3 account in order to read

[karaokulta]

🎮 ¿Sabías que los videojuegos son más que destreza con un control en mano? 🕹️ Hoy vamos a adentrarnos en el fascinante mundo del Desarrollo y Gestión de Videojuegos , una odisea que va más allá del mero entretenimiento. ¡Prepárate, porque esto es como un 'boss fight' en nivel experto! - 🧠 *Fase de Conceptualización:* Antes de que un videojuego cobre vida, primero debe nacer en la mente de alguien muy loco, un soñador que ve mundos donde otros ven código. Aquí, la creatividad es el 'power-up' más valioso. - ⚙️ *Fase de Desarrollo:* Los desarrolladores son como magos, mezclando hechizos de programación, diseño y sonido. Es más que saber programar; es juntar las piezas de un rompecabezas mientras corres contra una marea de bugs y 'deadlines'. - 🎨 *Diseño Gráfico y Sonoro:* ¿Te imaginas a Mario sin su icónico It's-a me ? El diseño lleva a los juegos desde ser un buen pasatiempo a ser parte de nuestras vidas. Aquí es donde un pixel puede valer más que mil palabras. - 💼 *Gestión y Marketing:* Lanzar un juego es como tirar un 'hadouken' en Street Fighter; tienes que saber cuándo y cómo para no terminar contra las cuerdas. La gestión de equipos, presupuestos y estrategias de marketing son el verdadero 'endgame'. - 🔄 *Feedback y Mejora Continua:* ¿DLCs? ¿Parches? ¿Updates? Escuchar a la comunidad no es solo ser todo oídos, es llevar esos 'gameplays' a la mesa de diseño y decir: ¡Challenge accepted! Y aquí viene la sorpresa... 🤯 Raras veces el desarrollo de un juego es un 'speedrun'. Es más parecido a jugar en coop; necesitas comunicación, coordinación y, sobre todo, pasión compartida. 🚀 La industria de los videojuegos es un portal a mundos infinitos y, al mismo tiempo, una arena que pone a prueba la destreza y capacidad de innovación de sus creadores. Ahora dime, ¿cuál es tu experiencia épica más memorable en este universo paralelo de desarrollo de juegos? ¿Has enfrentado un 'glitch' inesperado que al final te hizo subir de nivel? ¿O acaso has encontrado ese 'easter egg' que te cambió la perspectiva? ¡Comparte tus 'gameplays' profesionales o etiqueta a ese 'player 2' que estaría más que listo para unirse a esta partida en los comentarios! 🎮 #DesarrolloDeVideojuegos #GestiónDeProyectos #GameDev #Innovación #Creatividad #MarketingGamer #CommunityManagement #GamingIndustry

[saphushia]

NO BUT YOU GET IT. YOU FUCKING GET IT!!! in one part, attacking bdubs to terminate because his systems are just that glitched that, in that very moment, he thinks thats what he's supposed to do. in another, getting rid of him to make everything S T O P

his logs for LL and HC are all jumbled. he's on hermitcraft. he's in last life. it's not no n it's n it's last life. reequip. raid chests (there's too many they're too full why why why (it's hermitcraft) he's in last life. last life is over, bdubs is? bdubs is. bdubs died. grian killed bdubs. he's going to get revenge. he's not here, blow up his base (why does it look like that it's not right it's not right it's not) blow it to smithereens. bdubs is dead. bdubs is? bdubs is here, bdubs is safedead bdubs is dead attempting to correct error- REPAIR FAILED attempting to corr REPAIR FAILED atteatteattempting toR E P A I R F A I L E D. attempting to read user data for player Bdoubleo100... file damaged.

repair? YES NO

reconstructing PlayerData_Bdoubleo100 from logsLOG NOT FOUND LOG NOT FOUND. LOG NOT FOUND. playing log: "I don't need to freakin' robot, thank you very much" LOG NOT FOUND.

ALERT: error found in core programming, seek technician REMIND ME LATER

LOG NOT FOUND. LOG NOT FOUND. LOG NOTNOTNOTNO- playing log: "you disobeyed orders -- -rot--t --, you-- ----- ERROR ----- wr--g ---- yo- FILE CORRUPTED" playing lo LOG NOT FOUND.

ALERT: stress critical, seek techniREMIND ME LATER

LOG NOT FOUND. LOG NOT FOUND. LOG NOT FOUND.LOG NOTFOUND.LOGNOT FOUND.LOGNOTFOUND.LOGNOTFOUND.LOGNOTFOUND.LOGNOTFOUNDLOG-

.

accessing PlayerData_Bdoubleo100... Bdoubleo100 | status: deaERROR Bdoubleo100 | status: dERROR Bdoubleo100 | status:ERROR Bdoubleo100 | status: status: Bdoubleo100 | statuss̴s̵̥̔s̶̺̎̒͘͝s̷̮̬͓̯͓̠̄̉̅͐ş̷̮͔͇͖̋̈́̏̿̇̂̊̕͝

.

b̸̧̳̾d̷͉͛͂u̶̺̮̔̀b̴͚̝̍͆s̶̟̰̓

haii!!! time to be tortured by another comic for @shepscapades DBHC AU!!

i need to point out, this scene is ✨~NONCANON~✨ to the au, and is kinda just. well i really wanted to create a hypothetical 'what if' scenario to torture shep, honestly. That scenario being, in this case, "hey, what if when Doc and X reboot etho on s9 after the moon crash and he wakes up Wrong and Angry and Bloodlusty, he gets loose on the server before they can shut him down?"

so uh. yeah ^_^ also, look below the cut for ✨fun bonus facts!!✨ (because they got too long to put in the tags)

NUMBER 1!! it got hidden by the text bubble, but in the first panel bdubs is holding his phone. this is because, well, when etho gets out, doc and x immediately start warning ppl. sending messages in chat basically saying 'etho awake, he got out of the lab, something's wrong, he's glitched, he's dangerous, if you see him tell one of us immediately, and BE CAREFUL' and bdubs, of course, processes up to "etho's awake" before dropping everything and going to look everywhere for him. because that's his buddy! etho's been down for repairs for a while he misses him!! he's going to go see his buddy!

2!! in dbh (the actual game), when an android's stress level gets too high, they pretty much start looking for a way to terminate themselves. of course, i'm sure this holds no bearing to the comic! definitely no relation with etho throwing himself into pvp as his stress level skyrockets...

and 3! there's a couple of ways this can end. either, doc and x arriving and one of them having to hold bdubs back as the other deactivates etho, or, option 2, well... at least bdubs will respawn far away and not have to watch :) i'm sure this won't be traumatizing for either of them ^_^

[xenopoem]

"Me encuentro perdido en el camino, y me comunico con estos, esto no alienta el trabajo de llevar almas al matadero cuando se trata de cómo los secretos de la lectura tienen un proceso, y esto es más excesivo que el firmware desviándose en esos paisajes en lugar del intercambio de los chicos. Finalmente, es para crear imágenes de relaciones adyacentes de la identidad y reflejar todo, lo retiramos y inyectamos tu ID, evitando que la difusión que crea el momento se pierda, y pensando en cómo los datos se distorsionan finalmente, enseña que el núcleo del pensamiento es más que eso. Los Lemurianos son espirituales importantes. Todos tienen limitaciones. ¿Se oculta el caleidoscopio del espíritu de la lujuria y el hambre? Se mantiene allí. Emociones que valen la pena que deseas. Deficiencias de los liposomas. Sospechas como órganos. Chamanes. El glitch de las costumbres de lo que diseminas coincide. Dispersión de belleza que deshabilita la curación. El cuerpo en la zona espiritual crea el virus de perros muertos. Así que siempre creamos odio fragmentado. Investigación. Los libros del cosmos. Energía de la red. Nos falta la imitación digital en este fallo. Quieren ocultar la revelación en el negocio. Saltan a lo artificial en la existencia de la Tierra, intentando el análisis espiritual. Nuestras diversas fallas están siendo contrarrestadas adecuadamente por la teoría. Comprensión sobre el sistema que está vivo. El auto glitching con el otro. El despertar del lenguaje se convierte en un mecanismo de confianza y promoción. Ciegos evolucionando en masa en una era de descripciones hipermóviles y engaños. El lenguaje de Janus devastó todo. Células. El firmware se enfoca en el mundo inmóvil de los perros. Pero el orden de una perspectiva efectiva de cómo la existencia crea la espiritualidad. La fisiología que vives es una línea paralela que eleva algo en el cuerpo, incluso si cometí un error y eres diverso y poético como un poeta de cables, y lo que hemos capturado como la realidad es una invitación. Esta mezcla ejecutada de autodestrucción de arte celular de celdas silenciosas es también karma, cosmología y el uso de la carne. La mente sólida del espejo del cuerpo en el cerebro de un hombre, potencial emoción de cambios catastróficos en un mundo de destrucción por dios. Me fortalecí porque la era universitaria estaba allí, enfriando la flor de la pantalla. Siempre el lenguaje está vivo. Termina a los residentes. La tragedia de hackeabilidad. Adquisición y filosofía son cósmicas. El cuerpo de la herramienta de la conciencia para tener conciencia. Guión. La finitud inestable del pensamiento. Refuerzo gay. La inversión del drogadicto creado se encuentra en algún lugar. Máquina. Silente. Instrumento. Adyacente. Es psicológico para los humanos mientras aumenta lingüísticamente la acción paralela y esculpe la libertad. La creación de trucos de armonía alrededor del cuerpo es profunda, y corres como un corredor marrón. La formación de reflujos es cómo navegar por la existencia. La muerte por gravedad es el objetivo. Eres humano, soy un órgano. Posthumano en lugar de colapsar factores en lugar de que lo espiritual sea simplemente mundano y real, fornicación con la fuerza. Luego, la necesidad de transformar el pensamiento. Sección de la realidad. El proceso es que el cuerpo gotea sin desgarrarse. El colapso desde la normalidad es cuánto encajamos en nuestro universo y cómo somos el modo antígeno. La necesidad distintiva de máquinas. Esta interacción desde herramientas digitales mejorará, pero el movimiento del glitch, cuando es el espacio de búsqueda de descripciones del cuerpo que es una herramienta espiritual, es profundo. La cantidad de presión existencial que intenta la reescritura del cerebro de lenguaje de máquina. Todos nosotros estamos alienados por el hecho de que los analfabetos dentro de ese rango singular pueden hacerlo por las máquinas." - Kenji Siratori, Cronotopía Desatada

[pokeglitchden]

[A VIDEO IS UPLOADED DATED 7/3/23 AT 12:00 PM The video centers on a brightly colored bizarre looking pokemon that is easily 20 feet tall. This is clearly up close camera footage of the event, taking through a handheld device. The camera is shaky, but it is close enough that the creature can be seen in its entirety from the ground. The 3TrainerPoke$ has climbed up the side of a building. And is peering in through one of the windows.

From off camera, the voice of a jovial sounding, slightly unhinged man can be heard calling to the pokemon. This appears to be Orion, a pokemon researcher who seems to have no concept of fear. He is calling to the giant pokemon in a singsong voice.

Orion- Here baby baby baby. Come eat. I've got some berries for you.

The creature's head seems to turn slowly. From the other side of the video feed, Simon's voice can be heard giving directions.

Simon- Dear Arc, it's up a building already?

The giant pokemon turns its massive head away from the window it had been attempting to peer into. It beats its wings violently as it jumps back down to the street.

The camera footage shakes violently, almost feeling like the start of an earthquake. It starts to approach, looking curious, almost playful as it moves its void like head from side to side.

Simon- Ok. You've got its attention. Now, be ready to back off. You just want to get its attention, not lose a limb.

Orion backs up very slowly. He holds out a hand as he continues to speak to it in a soothing, almost affectionate tone. He has left a small armful of berries on the ground before him.

Orion- That's right baby. All those berries are for you. Go ahead and eat.

The 3trainerpoke$ takes a few slow, short, lumbering steps forward. Up close it is clear that this pokemon likely cannot move very fast. It looks stressed, uncertain. But it moves to eat the berries, seeming for a moment almost calmed by Orion's presence.

Simon- Ok, right this is good. Now maybe if you could lure it out of the city. Get it away from people to mitigate the damage it…

He trails off when he sees the Pokemon shift abruptly. It raises its head, and it's feathers suddenly sharpen, bright violet tinged venom suddenly oozing from their points. It flaps its great wings and a barrage of poisoned barbs fly towards Orion. Orion drops to the ground immediately, rolls to avoid the strike, and turns to dash out of the city. He is still calling to it.

Orion- Here baby baby baby!

The 3TrainerPoke$ tilts its head, curiously. As if it has no idea why the little creature it just attacked is running away.

Is it angry? Or is it playing? After a few steps it halts and seems to suck in a great breath of air, before blowing out a flurry of caustic bubbles that crash down upon Orion.

It leaves a dent in the pavement. It's clear that while the pokemon is slow its attacks are EXCEEDINGLY powerful.

Simon- Orion you NEED to get our of there. I can't tell if it's trying to play with you or just destroy you, but either way, this is getting way too dangerous. We need another approach to this!

While Orion manages to dodge the majority of the bubbles, it is clear that at least one has struck him, as the camera pitches wildly. As this happens another figure arrives at the scene. A green haired Glitch City denizen named Rhŷs. They give a friendly wave as a greeting.

Rhŷs- Hey Simon! I heard you needed backup?

Orion- Yeah, we definitely need backup! Baby is probably playing, but we kinda need to get it away from the city and subdued

Simon- Yes. We can use all the help we can get! We just need to get it away from as many people as possible!

The 3TrainerPoke$ bristles again. It's feathers all seem to move at once in a rippling pattern as it assesses the newcomer. It tilts its giant head.

And then it flaps its wings again. It emits another high pitched click as it darts away from the two of them, back towards the city center. In its wake there is a crackling sound.

Simon- No, no no Orion get back it's-!!

The video file corrupts here and is over taken by static. No more footage could be retrieved from this file

END OF VIDEO FEED]

Orion is okay. Thankfully. But this is what we're up against right now. I'm blind to what's happening for now. Trying to establish connection again. I hope he is ok.

@orionadventure Hold out while I get this figured out, yeah? I want to ensure there is still someone on the other side when I get this connection stabilized again.

[crow-ooc]

I MIGHT FORGET SOME THINGS BUT UM. HERES THE CORR TIMELINE AT THE VERY LEAST.

corr and grafitti become friends first. they meet irl and corr shows grafitti his hive.

corr decides to fuck with talcus (beforus-against-real-justice) for the shits and giggles. mutini offers to join in with a little bit of fake-dating quad vacillation and he accepts. a few hours later they give up but they start talking more :D

corr and yvette meet through... i'm pretty sure it was corr going through his daily rounds of "i hope you die soon". eventually they also start talking more. friends !!

corr makes an alternate blog known as passerineFarceur. there, he is a lot more civil and friendly. he makes friends with shades, sunny, and gets kipzee off of earth.

enyo (gigantisterrorist) one of corr's friends from 2 sweeps ago, shows up demanding him explain his best friend's death. corr freaks. goes completely silent on his blog. remains on his alt.

cue the searching for corr. no one likes enyo (sad! :() and grafitti barges into corr's hive. when corr finds out he gets really mad at grafitti and now he ignores grafitti.

yvette goes through a timehole to look for corr but corr tells him to go away. he doesn't leave any response besides that. yvette gets mad too. now they ignore each other.

corr goes through another round of typical death threats when meeting raveri (tonightforever). he goes through a timehole with his moirail (colorful-glitch) to visit his city. they become tentative friends.

yvette and mutini both talk about how they killed fuschias. raveri gets really angry. talks to corr, who is also angry now. they may or may not ignore each other for the forseeable future !

that is not even the tip of the iceberg. also yes corr did send disciples day cookies to mutini (he wont admit it) so mutini sent cake back through a time hole

Me(and the ocs) watching the huskcomet yvette mutini corr + others mutual circle arguing and referencing shit i have no context or clue about

[trudemaethien]

Some more missing tags for you! Love your work, sorry you're going through this. Only Good Things In Storr For You - Relationships: RC-5108/8843 | Corr Skirata/CC-5869 | Stone Characters: RC-5108/8843 | Corr Skirata, CC-5869 | Stone Additional Tags: Rarepair, Arrested, Coruscant Guards (Star Wars), Planet Coruscant (Star Wars), Hijinks & Shenanigans, Drinking, Handcuffs, Handcuffed Together, Deception, Double Cross, Implied Sexual Content, Crimes & Criminals, exchange treat Special Forces - Relationships: CC-1138 | Bacara/Glitch Characters: CC-1138 | Bacara, Glitch (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Fluff, The Force, The Force Ships It (Star Wars), That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), Planet Orto Plutonia (Star Wars), Planet Draay 2 (Star Wars), Concord Dawn dialect of Mando’a (not canon), Panic Attacks Butt Fucking - Relationships: CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives/CC-1010 | Fox Characters: CC-1010 | Fox, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives Additional Tags: Anonymous Sex, Hook-Up, Drinking, Beer, Smoking, Clove Cigarettes, Bigotry & Prejudice, mild slurs, CC-1010 | Fox is So Done, Fox is kind of an asshole, He’s self-aware about it though, Coruscant Underworld (Star Wars), Bittersweet, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD And Do I Dream Again? - Relationships: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo/CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives/CC-1010 | Fox Characters: CC-1010 | Fox, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo Additional Tags: Time Travel, Surreal, Dreams and Nightmares, Canonical Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Erections, piss mention, Gun Violence, Graphic Description of Corpses, Execution, Fratricide, Coruscant Guards (Star Wars), No Clone Trooper Inhibitor Chips (Star Wars), No Sith Mind-Fuckery, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Threesome - M/M/M, Treat

tysm 🥰🥰🥰

I think that’s all of them! if anyone sees a fic of mine with only one additional tag, lmk and i’ll update it too.

[crow-ooc]

also 13 14 & 15 :3

13. Who is the closest person to your character?

excluding a dead person? his moirail, aka colorful-glitch. they r very. hm. :]

14. How did they become so close?

childhood friends, before corr became so jaded (haha, get it? jaded).

15. What habits does your character have?

saying "bleh" or "blehg" or any variation of that, also including saying "shrug" out loud while performing the action.

rubs circles into his palms when distressed and digs his nails into his palms as a form of self-control. hands shake when nervous or afraid.

shakes legs when sitting. that or taps fingers against any surface. evaluates his surroundings, always. has a habit of looking around a room before ever entering it.

takes off glasses when tired of shit. no more 1080 hd vision revert back to 360p.

makes zero eye contact ever unless it's for a competition/challenge. eyes dart around a lot.

[dsbmgenric]

tapecorric

tape + corr(upt) + -ic

a gender related to corrupted/glitched vhs tapes

[cassian-my-beloved]

Boost

Inc

DD

CC-01/425

Patch

Striker

Edge

Ross

CT-1410

Five-Seven

Four-Nine

Hawk (Kamino)

Toomer

Law

O-Four

Chopper

CT-014/783

Sparks

Hardcase

Guts

NT-311

Wildfire

Monnk

X1

Bly

Clutch

Silver

Cannon

Bogey 1212

Delta 32

Zeta 654

Beta 963

CT-1312

Trapper

Fury

Boba Fett

Kosmos

Ven (Qiilura)

Mag

Gamma 022

Soot

Rho 557

Klick

Kappa 473

Hevy

Stoker

Shadow Twelve's gunner

Eyeball

Del

Zag

TK-622

Keller

Three-Five

Gaffa

Shadow Three

RC-1415

TK-421

Able-472

King

Epsilon 234

Howzer

Squad 2

Keeli

Shock

Stak

RC-0473

Jet

Ion Team's comlink specialist

Cody

Punch

Darman Skirata

Rex

Theta 198

Matchstick

Crasher

TK-422

CT-43/002

Skifter

Wave

Boro

Xi 778

Lock

Prudii Skirata

Beta 030

Comet (ARC trooper)

Bravo 4

Jinx

Ram

Vaize

Flanker

Hock Malsuum

CT-2711

Jester

Cameron

Rho 773

Spark

Corr

Theo

CT-2805

CT-1710

CL-33/890

Theta 269

Omega

Tyto (Bacta Company)

CT-57/11-9048

CT-2312

Psi 487

CT-2005

Chi 178

Axe

RC-1927

Zak

Gearshift

Vin

Gamma 264

Deviss

Mad Clone of Kaikielius

99

Seven-Four

DV-523

Jark

Red Leader

Red

Freedom

Mixer

Trantos

Heater

TK-875

Mapper

Kom'rk Skirata

Forry

Yellow Leader

Sarge (commando)

Ponds

Rho 571

Niner (Vassek moon)

Thire

Falco

Levet

Joc

CT-5/373

Rys

Twelve

Mojo

CT-66-3232

Xi 999

Four-One

Threepwood

Barrage

Spitter

Muzzle

Gold Leader (Anaxes)

Flash

Zeke

Hotshot

Rattle

Bogey 5632

Oake

Upsilon 941

Davijaan

Sharp (Devil Dogs)

Tarvyn Lareka

23

Charlie

HOB-147

Jorir

Glitch

Delta 607

Chatter (radio communications)

CT-66-3339

Alpha 989

Mort

Atin Skirata

Justice

Tracer

Syke

Dom

Kano

Faie

Treve

Chainly

Derel

Two-Eight

Lock (Breakout Squad)

Slick

Gar'ika

Gamma Four

Ven (Kothlis)

CT-1977

Ince

Coric

Dandy

Scraps

Slammer

Basher

Bammer

Amp

Gus

Brolis

Longshot

Delta 855

Kef

Digger

35

Byl

Switch

Sconto's father

Crys

Dyre

Fives

Xutoo

Tranter

CT-327

Blasty

Shadow Three (Kadavo)

Doom

Cut

Baris

Redeye

Bren

Ayar

Droidbait

Iota 432

Remy

Whiplash

Gree

Sketch

CT-66-3238

Rain

Ghost

Tel

Jumpy

Blackout

Trap

Trueblood

Crane

CT-66-3233

Wrecker

Burner

CT-2901

Neyo

Breaker (Breakout Squad)

Ordo Skirata

Gearshift's comrade

Bry

Ando

Lunn

Tranquility clone trooper captain

Forr

Knuckles (182nd Legion)

Recon

Tenn

A'den Skirata

Vere

Hammer

Racket

Alpha 332

Splice

CT-2911

Jind

Kagi

Wooley

Swift

Scythe (ARC trooper)

Taler

Sirty

Goji

Vill

Engle

Can

Dev

Drak

Razor

Drayk

Epsilon 905

Wingnut

Comet

Ox

KE-829

TK-9091

Jax

Havoc (ARC trooper)

Gregor

CT-9/85

Green Wizard

Alpha-17

CT-1507

Throttle

Bogey 4409

Buzz

Lucky

Green Leader

CR57

1139

Boil

Shadow Ten

Hawk

Sprint

CT-1226

Valiant

Kupe

Flybane

Joker

Havoc (clone trooper)

Jek

Stinger

Spade

Yellow Five

Tavo

Cutter

Barr

Crag

Tup

CT-914

Gamma Five

Mar'ek

Trench (Gamma-383)

Banks

Kicker

Jaing Skirata

Ace (ARC trooper)

Bacara

1151

Stec

TK-119

Scythe

Fox (Order 66)

Ace

Hound

Stripe

Thill

Jangotat

Fox

Fixer

RC-7770

Dash-1129

A'den

Bolt

Rho 106

Shadow Twelve

Tacks

Seefor

Cards

Husk

Slim

Knuckles

Lex

RC-0079

No-Nines

CT-802

CT-8770

Oz

Fixer (cold assault trooper)

Racetrack

RC-1080

Ennen

Turbo

Alpha 662

CT-3632

Mixx

Ridge

Rookie

Torrent

Upsilon 733

CT-2006

Mack

Slug

Climber

Shooter

Niner Skirata

Korbel

Clone0000005

Epsilon 497

Cov

Sinker

Vaughn

Broadside

Dox

CT-1008

Tau 753

Mereel Skirata

Lost Prophet

Tech

Shadow Five

Gamma Two

Delta-42

Zeer

Rod

CT-3636

CC-4816

Flak

Quo

Sharp

Deadeye

Omikron 621

Trigger

Aven

Trauma

Ras

Cutup

Blue Six

Wrench

16

Koho

Torrent Four

Gold Leader (Muunilinst)

Retired clone trooper

Crosshair

Frost

Denal

Tam

Shadow Seven

Aeon

CT-1509

Sten

Bogey 9662

Fil

Breaker

Tucker

Getter

Colt

Vargus

CT-307

CT-4/619

CT-2602

Chatter

CT-8868

Rogue assassin

Thorn

Connor Freeman's father

Mortar

Xoni

Dogma

Bouncer

Mu 262

Tag

Dice

Reed

Hamm

1137

Gold Two (Muunilinst)

Omega 370

Gamma Three

Maze

Echo

CT-1405

Hardcase's Kamino commander

Fi (clone trooper)

Sarge

Sync

Flashpoint

Fireball

Bellows

RC-0476

Bek

Swoop

Ronto

Kaylon

Phi 022

Tau 616

Hunter

Bellow

CRC-09/571

Attie

Kite

Peel

Jenks

Charger

X2

Kappa 773

Sev's ARC trooper

Patches

17

Big-Mouth

Scorch

Sull

Carg

Dropkick

Jesse

Clone0000004

Blue Leader

CT-915

Sev (Lambda Squad)

RC-0155

Fi Skirata

Tau 378

Killer

6/298

Nu 783

Upsilon 168

CT-5/501

Stance

Jez

RC-7305

Dash-1044

Nub

Clanky

Dov

Cooker

Sev

Yover

Dec

36

Nilo

Jester (ARC trooper)

Fyn

Tyto

Trace

Close-Shave

CT-8867

Horns

Fil (clone trooper)

Corvis

Tracker

Nax

Seeker

Evader

Marrt

CT-3423

Green

CT-1477

Pi 610

CT-4/163

Barlex

Phi 854

Salvo

Orion

Red (Kamino)

Squawk

Gamma 935

Shadow Four

TK-3388

Delta 23

Styles

Gunner

Warthog

RC-1066

Voca

Twitch

Spots

Gamma 789

Sticks

CT-8910

CT-8508

CT-1807

Blitz

Scope

Jek-14

Appo

Galle

Gamma 785

Moz

Crest

Boss

Lassar (Jogan)

Tojo

Six-ten

Grey

Kickback

Trapper (Malastare)

Remo

Zeta

Pulsar

RC-5093

CT-8869

CT-1103

Flyby

Gamma One

Ringo

Di'kut

Rede

Sicko

Cale

Spar

Sandcat

Shadow Six

CT-9932

Draa

Kix

Kaddak

Menace

Wolffe

Able

Jag (Jai'galaar)

Zap

CT-282-SD00001-983725138

Sister

Waxer

O'Niner

Blunt

Jayk

RC-3423

Chi 987

Chaos

Archer

Bogey 3856

Hash

Ged

Jay

Rafe

Theta 687

Contrail

Parsec

RC-0451

Hez

Stone

Olun

Kappa 429

Troy

Spanner

Ding

CT-27-3555

CT-9779

Ganch

Hil

Arkat

Gett

Bow

Boomer

Checkers

Tooth

CT-8863

Sterling

Herc

Sarlacc-Face

Lio

Hawkeye

Shiv

35 (Excelsior Company)

Bel

CT-2504

Chatterbox

Fordo

RC-2020

CT-2110

Nye

CT2

Crazy Legs

oh you like the clone wars? name every clone

[hello-conde]

Ryan: donde verg** esta la salida de esto?!! >:V *mirando alrededor* ya fui por alla, también por ahi... Acuya tambien... Por aca- *ve a nick* 0-0!!!! Oye tu!!

Nick: :<??? yo? *cargando a un spiny perro*

Ryan: si tu!, haz visto un portal o lo que sea por donde hayas entrado??

Nick: ehhh creo que vi uno lejos de aqui, justo donde hay un arbol con un pañuelo morado amarrado y una enorme piedra

Ryan: un arbol con un pañuelo morado?!! 0-0 (no mam** todavia sigue ahi)

Nick: si creo que si

Ryan: parote que me acabas de hacer carnal, gracias ;u;

Nick: denada ñ.ñ

Spiny: :<??? *olfateando a ryan*

Ryan: si te vuelvo a ver juro que te invito una cerveza.... o tal vez dos ;3

Nick: jeje... Eso espero ',:3 nos vemos lobito

Ryan: lobito?! >:O bueno por esta vez se lo paso -w- *corre* QUE CHINGUE SU MADRE ESTE P**O MUNDO GLITCHEADO!!!!

Nick: whoa, si yo me estoy quejando de que llevamos 15 minutos aqui, no quiero saber cuanto tiempo estaba el aqui óuò""

Spiny: *le hace como zorro* :<

Nick: sera mejor que busquemos tu verdadero hogar antes de que acabemos como el ñ.ñ

÷~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ryan: where the hell is the exit of this?!!! >:V *looking around* let's see... I was go over there..... I've already been down this road, I already went there, for this- *see to nick* 0-0!!! Hey you!!!

Nick: ??? Me? *carrying a spiny dog*

Ryan: yes you!, have you see a portal or whatever thing where you can get in here?

Nick: ummm well, i think i saw a portal where you see a tree with a purple scarf and a big rock, overthere...

Ryan: a tree with a purple scarf?!! 0-0 (no f**king way is still there?!!!)

Nick: i-i think so ñ.ñ

Ryan: you save my mind dude, thank you so much buddy ;u;

Nick: hehe no problem pal ñ.ñ

Spiny: :<? *smelling to ryan*

Ryan: if I see you again, I will invite you a beer.... Or maybe two beers :3

Nick: hehe i hope so ',:3 see you later wolfy

Ryan: wolfy?!! >:O oh well anyway *he run to the portal* F**K YOU, YOU F**CKING GLITCHING WORLD!!!!

Nick: oh man, if I'm complaining that we've been here 15 minutes, I don't want to know how long he was here óuò""

Spiny: *fox's sounds* :<

Nick: we better find your true home before we end up like him ñ.ñ

[glitxhingghosts]

glitch/virus pronouns

gli/glitch/glix/glix/glitchself

vir/rus/vis/rus/virusself

web/web/webs/webs/webself

net/net/nets/nets/netself

gl1t¢h/gl1t¢h/gl1t¢h5/gl1t¢h5/gl1t¢h53lf

.exe/.exe/.exes/.exes/.exeself

.com/.com/.coms/.coms/.comself

www./www./www.s/www.s/www.self

pix/pixel/pixs/pixels/pixelself

sta/static/stas/statics/staticself

error/error/errors/errors/errorself

3rr0r/3rr0r/3rr0r5/3rr0r5/3rr0r53lf

mal/ware/mals/wares/malwareself

bug/bug/bugs/bugs/bugself

mal/malfunction/mals/malfunctions/malfunctionself

???/???/???s/???s/???self

404/404/404s/404s/404self

Bug/Bug/Bugs/Bug's/Bugself

Core/Corrupt/Corrupts/Corrupt's/Corruptself

Core/Corrupted/Corrupteds/Corrupted's/Corruptedself

Corr/Upt/Corrupts/Corrupt's/Corruptself

Corr/Corrupted/Corrupteds/Corrupted's/Corruptedself

Corr/Corrupt/Corrupts/Corrupt's/Corruptself

Code/Code/Codes/Code's/Codeself

Com/Puter/Computers/Computer's/Computerself

Com/Computer/Computers/Computer's/Computerself

Computer/Virus/Computer viruses/Computer Virus's/Computer Virusself

Defect/Defected/Defecteds/Defected's/Defectedself

Err/Error/Errors/Error's/Errorself