#instant knockout before and after

[in1-nutshell]

Can i Request Tfp Breakdown having a daughter, a youngling who is the opposite of him. She likes to fight, but with swords.

She is the niece of Bulkhead and Wheeljack, and Jackie is her fav uncle. One day, she had to fought with Bulkhead, but because of their story, she spared him. Starscream saw and told Megatron. Megs saw this as traitor behavior and decided to destroy her. BD with the help of his partner KO, the other dad of the kid, managed to get her to autobot territory. They hugged her and told her that everything would be okay. And then she passed out because of KO. The couple called the bots and told them about the situation and agreed to take her in.

(I love the daughters with opposite personality, Ironbolt is currently my Fav 🩷)

Another daughter to add to the list!

I will be figuring out a name for her and putting it on the Buddy name list when I do!

Hope you enjoy!

Breakdown with a daughter with the opposite personality

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Angst, Cybertronian reader

TFP

Buddy had known Breakdown since she was a sparkling.

Her parents were good friends with him and Bulkhead, after having worked in the same construction team for a couple of years.

Neither parent was able to stay at home with the sparkling, so she often came to the construction sites.

The bots didn’t mind the new cute face playing in their little play pin away from anything dangerous.

One thing the bots found out was that the sparkling could be incredibly fussy if things weren’t according to plan.

Breakdown looks at a slightly uncomfortable Bulkhead. Breakdown: “Bulk? You, okay? You look like a turbo fox’s gnawing on your pede.” Bulkhead: “I’m okay. It’s just…” Bulkhead motioned behind him. Breakdown looked behind him. Buddy was clutching the sides of her play pin with a glare that would make any bot say sorry. Bulkhead: “It started when I accidentally put her coloring pads in the other corner by her energon formula.” Breakdown: “Wait doesn’t she usually have the pads—” Bulkhead: “On the other side, I know now!” Both mechs look at the sparkling. She was still glaring at them. Breakdown and Bulkhead feel an uncomfortable shiver down their backstruts. Breakdown: “How long has she been staring at you?” Bulkhead: “We’re on hour 2… I don’t know how long she can do this for…”

But the sparkling did have a softer side for her parents and those she deemed worthy of being in her presence.

Nonetheless, the crew loved that little grumpy sparkling.

It was the highlight of their day if they caught a glimpse of the little thing playing with her makeshift toys.

The Accident happened a year before Megatron marched out of the Senate.

There was an explosion inside one of the sites.

It was the one where Buddy and their parents were.

As soon as Breakdown and Bulkhead heard about it, they quickly made their way to the hospital where the patients were recovering.

Buddy’s parents were the closest to the explosion.

Most likely terminated in an instant.

Buddy was lucky enough to make it out with minor scrapes and cuts.

Breakdown was the one who went to get Buddy.

Breakdown enters the room slightly panicked. Breakdown: “Buddy! Buddy are you—” Breakdown stops talking seeing the cherry red framed doctor. The doctor looked at him curiously. Breakdown: “Umm…” Buddy’s helm pops from the doctor’s side. Buddy: “Breakdown!” The sparkling jumps from the med slab and runs straight for Breakdown’s opened arms, burying her face into his chassis. Breakdown sighs in relief. Breakdown: “Thanks for taking care of her.” The doctor huffs. Knockout: “That’s Doctor to you.” He looks a bit more at the mech before smiling. Knockout: “But I guess you can call me Knockout, sweet rims.” Breakdown exe has stopped working.

Buddy didn’t let go of him for a couple of hours, she did go to Bulkhead from time to time, but mainly latched onto Breakdown.

He and Bulkhead step up to the plate to raise Buddy.

Tears up when Buddy starts calling him ‘dad’.

Does pull Buddy aside and tells her about what happened to her actual parents.

Breakdown finishes telling Buddy the story. Buddy looks at him confused. Buddy: “Do you not like it when I call you ‘Dad’?” Breakdown: “Its not that I don’t like it. I don’t deserve that title, Buddy.” Buddy puts her servos on her hips and looks at him with a stern look on her face. Buddy: “I’m still going to call you Dad. You raised me, took me in, and you care for me. If I’m not wrong, isn’t what a parent does?” Breakdown: “Well there’s more stuff but that is the gist.” Buddy: “Then you’re my dad. I don’t care if you’re not biological or that stuff—wait are you crying?” Breakdown with tears in his optics: “N-nope.”

Breakdown is not crying

Nope he is not

Buddy nearly gives Bulkhead whiplash when he hears her call him Uncle.

Breakdown just tells him to go with it.

War breaks out.

The three of them join the Autobot side.

They end up in the Wrecker’s unit.

Breakdown makes it clear to Buddy that she is not going to go out on the field until she is older.

Buddy just nods and helps with the cleaning and restocking.

Something that she is surprisingly good at.

Enter Wheeljack.

Breakdown doesn’t know how his sparkling, a grumpy grump ended up befriending, arguably one of the most chaotic Wrecker’s.

Buddy is running alongside Wheeljack across the base. Breakdown notices Buddy has something in her servos. Breakdown: “Buddy what do you have in your servos?” Buddy, still running raises both her servos displaying twin swords in them. Buddy: “Swords!” Breakdown and Bulkhead start running after her. Breakdown: “Buddy no!” Bulkhead: “Jackie why!?” Wheeljack: “Have you seen her cut things with them? She’s a natural!” Breakdown: “I will break your swords and shove them up your—” Buddy glancing back giving him a quick glare: “Dad! We don’t swear!”

As the war drew on longer, Breakdown started seeing more and more of what the Decepticon’s stood for.

He kept his thoughts to himself until he saw a familiar coat of cherry red sprinting across the battlefield.

He began to see Knockout in secret after that day.

Often asked Bulkhead, Wheeljack or another trusted Wrecker to watch over Buddy.

Buddy was worried about her father’s sudden disappearances, but never voiced it.

Bulkhead and Wheeljack had enough on their plates, so, instead she organized the inventory to get her processor off of things.

The inventory never looked so clean and organized.

Finally, the day came.

Breakdown told her that they both were going to join the Decepticon’s.

Buddy blinks looking at him. Breakdown: “Well, what do you think?” CLANK! Breakdown: "OW! Buddy!” Buddy had thrown a lugnut in between his optics. Buddy stood up looking at him with fury in her optics. Buddy: “Direct me what debris hit you in the helm from the bombing so I can beat it to oblivion for you TO EVEN CONSIDER DEFECTING!” Buddy clenches her servos. Buddy: “What are you even thinking!? No, you’re not!” Breakdown: “Buddy calm down—” Buddy: “You have no RIGHT TO TELL ME TO CALM DOWN AFTER TELLING THIS SCRAP!”

They both tried talking but Buddy was not having it.

Buddy fell asleep angry after that argument… something Breakdown was counting on.

His sparkling was notorious for being a heavy sleeper.

Breakdown ended up taking a sleeping Buddy across enemy lines and asked to join.

Buddy went to sleep an Autobot and woke up with a Decepticon badge on her shoulder.

She hated the Nemesis.

She didn’t talk to Breakdown for a long time after receiving the same work she was doing with the Wrecker’s.

She came around eventually.

It was a slow process, rebuilding their trust, but they made it work.

Meeting Knockout was when everything clicked.

Was part of her angry?

Yes.

Was part of her understanding?

Also, yes.

Buddy and Knockout are in the medbay waiting for Breakdown to come in. Buddy: “… You really love him, don’t you?” Knockout is a bit surprised from the question but remains composed. Knockout: “He’s the least bad out of the bunch here.” Buddy: “You didn’t answer the question, Doctor.” Knockout: “… I do.” Buddy gives a weary smile. Buddy: “You make him happy… I’m happy that he has someone else, but…” Buddy points both her swords at the doctor. Buddy: “I swear I will hunt you down if you break his spark. You WILL BEG for mercy when I’m through with you.” Breakdown enters as Buddy swiftly puts her swords back, acting like nothing happened. Breakdown: “Hey! Everything okay?” Knockout nods a bit scared from the sudden threat. Buddy smiles: “Just giving Knockout here a talk, nothing much.”

Knockout never thought a youngling would make him feel more nervous than Megatron walking into his medbay.

Speaking of other Decepticon’s, Buddy hated almost every single one of them.

Starscream and Megatron were at the top of her list.

The youngling knew well enough not to make her new superiors angry… but that didn’t stop her from making some inconveniences.

Starscream: “You! Where are the new missiles!” Buddy: “Nothing is new here Starscream.” Starscream: “That is Commander Starscream to you.” Buddy does a mock bow. Buddy: “Well, Commander Starscream, we don’t have anymore right now. You used the last ones trying to offline Megatron again.” Starscream: “I demand you make more!” Buddy gives him a deadpan look. Buddy: “Yes, I’ll do that when I get everything else in the storage rooms fixed.” Starscream: “And how long will that take!” Buddy: “Given you blew up part of it, consider it a ‘long time’ until we get the necessary material to fix the breach.” Starscream threw his servos in the air and stomped away. Buddy smirked a bit looking at the nearby box with said missiles, safely tucked away and out of sight.

Timeskip to Earth…

Buddy recently begun to scout for the Con’s.

She was out with some of the Vechicon’s and Starscream as her ‘supervisor’, but she knew for a fact he was using this as an excuse to complain about Megatron and talk about what a great leader he would be.

Even though there was proof what happened the last time he was left leader.

They get ambushed by the Autobots.

Buddy is deflecting all blasts with her swords.

Eventually she is forced to battle Bulkhead.

She really didn’t want to, but his raised wrecking ball said otherwise.

Buddy sees an opening and manages to knock Bulkhead down, pointing her sword straight at his neckcables. Bulkhead just stares at the sword and then at her. She blinks as her steady servo suddenly starts shaking. Bulkhead: “Well, are you going to do it Con?” She quickly backs off, almost dropping her swords and looks at the ground. Bulkhead, confused gets up not sure what to do. Bulkhead: “Umm… what—” Buddy: “Go.” Bulkhead: “What?” Buddy: “Just go Bulkhead.” Bulkhead just looks at her confused. Buddy: “Are your audials rusty? Go!”

Bulkhead gives one last glance before transforming and racing to the groundbrigde.

Unaware that Starscream had seen the exchange.

Back at the Nemesis…

Starscream immediately goes to Megatron and tells what he had seen.

Now, normal Megatron would have asked Buddy himself for her side of the story given how his Second in Command tended to paint some stories.

Too bad Starscream chose the moment when Megatron had placed more Dark energon in his chassis.

Dark energon Megatron immediately understands this as an act of treason and must be terminated.

He excuses Starscream and calls in Breakdown.

Breakdown comes in a bit nervous but doesn’t show it.

Megatron tells him to take Buddy out of the Nemesis and terminate her for her treason.

Breakdown takes a step back immediately asking why.

Megatron glares at him asking if he wants to join her.

Breakdown just slightly bows and leaves.

Just before Megatron demanded proof when he was done with her.

Breakdown quickly tells the news to Knockout.

Both of them fear for Buddy.

Breakdown wants to break something.

Knockout literally knocks some sense into him saying that that wasn’t going to help Buddy.

Both come up with a plan.

Buddy in the meantime was having inner turmoil.

This had been the first time in years that she had seen Bulkhead.

It brought up too many painful memories.

She snapped out of her thoughts when Breakdown called her asking if she wanted to go out with him and Knockout for a drive.

Buddy a bit surprised agrees.

Breakdown catches Megatron out of the corner of his optic before they enter the groundbridge.

Through the whole drive, they talked about anything and everything.

In it, Buddy confessed to letting Bulkhead go, she couldn’t do him in after all this time.

She quietly asks if they are both disappointed in her.

They tell her no.

That answer was good enough for her.

Buddy did however start to notice that they were entering an area notorious for Autobot sightings.

But it was also Knockout’s favorite place to race.

Best not to think too hard.

They transformed in a slightly wooded area. Buddy looks around. Buddy: “Isn’t this a bit too close to Autobot territory? I get that its nice, but we could get caught—” Breakdown cuts her off by bringing her into a tight hug. Buddy is a bit surprised but hugs back. Buddy: “Hey, is everything okay? You don’t usually do this out in the open.” Breakdown looks at his sparkling, his little one. Breakdown: “I just love ya kid.” Buddy looks a bit flustered and hugs a bit tighter. Buddy: “Love you too Dad.” Breakdown lets out a shaky sigh. Breakdown: “Everything’s going to be okay.” Buddy looks at him confused. Buddy: “What do you mean—AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”

Knockout used his electric staff, knocking her out cold.

Breakdown just held her limp frame as Knockout grabbed a scalpel and quickly removed it from her shoulder, drawing a bit of energon on the badge.

Enough proof for Megatron.

Breakdown sent out an old Autobot S.O.S while Knockout patched up the bleeding shoulder.

It took a couple of minutes before a groundbrigde came out.

It was Bulkhead and Ratchet.

Bulkhead stood in front of Ratchet and ready to attack Breakdown when he noticed Buddy in his arms.

Bulkhead: “Breakdown? What in the Pits is this.” Breakdown: “Thanks to Buddy having a soft spark, you got away.” Bulkhead: “And?” Breakdown: “Starscream saw it. He reported back to Megatron that she let you go on purpose.” Bulkhead and Ratchet both tensed hearing the Second in Commands name. Breakdown looked down sadly at his youngling. Breakdown: “…Megatron gave me orders to terminate her—” Bulkhead: “Hold up! You called us here to watch you offline your own sparkling!?” Ratchet: “Bulkhead wait, I think he has more to say.” Breakdown: “ Obvoiusly there is no way I’m terminating my own child Bulk.” Ratchet: “See.” Breakdown: “That’s why I’m giving her to you.” Bulkhead and Ratchet: “What?!” Breakdown: “Buddy was never Con material. I should have never taken her to the other side and now termination looming over her helm… she’ll be safer with you Bots.” Bulkhead: “What do you mean taken her? I thought you both—” Breakdown chuckles humorlessly. Breakdown: “The day I told her about going to the Con’s, she tried talking and knocking some sense back into my processor. I took her across the line when she was sleeping, nearly cost my entire relationship with her. Bulkhead, this is my last chance to make it up to her, give her a fighting chance to live for a cause she can fight for.” Ratchet looks angrily at the Ex-Wrecker. Bulkhead is quiet for a couple of seconds. Bulkhead: “…Pass her over.” Breakdown hesitates a bit before gently placing Buddy into Bulkhead’s arms. Breakdown nods at the two bots before turning to Knockout and start to head out. Bulkhead: “Breakdown.” Breakdown stops. Breakdown: “Yeah?” Bulkhead: “Anything else I should know about her?” Breakdown: “She’s still the same grump Bulkhead… but do watch out for her swords.” With that Breakdown and Knockout transformed and raced out of the area.

Breakdown refused to look back, because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to go back to the Nemesis.

This…

This was for the best.

Ratchet was making sure the wound on Buddy’s shoulder was properly addressed while Bulkhead looked closely at the youngling in his arms.

She wasn’t the little sparkling he remembered chasing Wheeljack around with her swords.

Buddy had grown.

She had hit a grow spurt during her time with the cons, easily a helm shorter than him.

As the three bots walked into the groundbrigde, Bulkhead was thinking on a way to explain this situation to the rest of the team.

…This was going to be fun…

[b0red-b1rds]

I beg, cry, I AM DESPERATE. For more chubby hc with the harbingers! (If you want to provide ofc) Specially Dottore- made my heart melt.

Elaborate on them if you want, pleaseee

Elaborate, I shall! Since you mentioned Dottore, I'll focus on him.

Originally, the teasing you suffered from the segments was due to a combination of curiosity and comfort. They used you as a sort of stress ball, squishing and pinching as a way of entertaining themselves while thinking about any difficult equations. They never intentionally left bruises, but it happened occasionally. The offending segment would get a swift thump upside the head.

Like I said before, it was a hug that caused a shift in the paradigm. One of the younger segments was pouting about a failed experiment, slouched in his chair and huffing. In an attempt to comfort him, his head is pressed against a warm chest while plush arms wrapped around his shoulders. All he can really do is blink as his brain makes a record scratch. He couldn't even remember what he was so upset about. All he could focus on was how warm and soft it felt to have his cheek pressed against your chest, your heart thumping in his ear.

(He doesn't realize it, but part of the warmth he feels is from the bright blush on his face.)

After that, physical affection is commonplace. Hugs, kisses, tickles (if you allow it), you name it, they do it. Wandering hands still use you as a stress ball, but now it's with the added knowledge that this stress ball gives comforting hugs. Getting a random pat or pinch on the butt is also common now. There's always a delighted cackle as you swiftly turn around to face the offending segment. You can not escape this.

The younger segments (early childhood to mid teens) are a bit more timid with affection. The smaller ones will sit on your lap and listen to your heartbeat, utterly fascinated by the rhythm and cadence of it. The older ones will simply lean on you, placing their forehead or chin on your shoulder as they complain about a failed project or the annoying antics of the older segments.

Speaking of, the older segments (mid twenties to... whatever age Dottore is) are far more flirtatious with their touching. The Omega build is one good example of this. He delights in using his words to make you blush, knowing his manner of speech is a surefire way of making you flustered. Add in the way he holds your hands and caresses your cheek... It's an instant knockout. (And then there's Webtorre, who just straight up bites you.)

Ah, but we can't call this a Dottore post if we don't include the original, can we?

Dottore Prime is an old man. He may not necessarily look old, but he definitely is. He gets cranky and annoyed just as easily as the other segments, and when that happens, he just sort of. Steals you. He pulls you away from whatever you're doing so he can get his own block of quality time. Like Childe, Prime will just sort of bury his face in your tummy and stay there. You sometimes worry if he can breathe. He doesn't usually answer if you ask. He just makes a vague gesture with his hand. It's best to just let him do his thing.

[playedcrowd5610]

"Protective Programming" - Danny Phantom x Transformers

Summary: After some careful consideration, Laserbeak has concluded that Danny has a complete lack of self-preservation and it was up to him to keep the human safe.

Or three times Laserbeak “saves” Danny and the one time Danny returns the favor.

ANIMATIC INCLUDED WITH THIS STORY!!!

---

Notes

Set in a series where Danny finds Starscream one day and decides to start haunting the Decepticons. That's basically all the context you need but if you want more here is the rest of the series:

Haunting the Nemesis

Part 1: Chasing Stars

Part 2: Burning Rubber

Part 3: Adventures of the Decepticons' Pet Ghost Or Tumblr Master List

---

Laserbeak watched from his perch as the meeting between his master, Starscream and Knockout took place below him. Most mechs didn’t notice the bird-like mini-con when he was this high up, and Laserbeak preferred it that way. He could survey the entire room and gather data to share with Soundwave during later briefings.

The three were arguing about some new rules Soundwave was putting in place regarding their frequent disappearances from the Nemesis. Laserbeak sent a wave of amusement through his bond with Soundwave when Knockout gave an exaggerated, pained response, and Starscream waved his servo around in outrage.

Suddenly, Laserbeak noticed a movement out of the corner of his optic. He shifted his helm to spot the human — at least, that was what the others claimed he was. Soundwave wasn’t so sure and shared those thoughts with his mini-con. Either way, Laserbeak was uncertain how the human could have slipped past his guard; surely, he would have noticed an organic entering the bridge — or anyone, for that matter. His optics narrowed as they tracked the newcomer.

The human, or "Danny," he had claimed his designation was, stood watching the debate with a smile, clear amusement reflecting in his EM field. Knockout continuously tried to rebut Soundwave's points, claiming that racing helped him relax and made his servos steadier for surgery. Starscream agreed with a similar sentiment for his flying.

In response, Soundwave simply pulled up a graph of all their recorded but unauthorized absences from the Nemesis, displaying the incidents’ frequency. Laserbeak remembered Soundwave mentioning that Starscream was less of a problem, as he could fly to where he wanted to go, but Knockout often used excessive energon to power the groundbridge for joyrides.

Laserbeak continued idly scanning, reading their EM fields, mannerisms, and reactions, gauging whether he would need to intervene on his master’s behalf. Not that Soundwave needed assistance.

Then the human made a snarky comment toward Knockout — something Laserbeak couldn’t quite pick up. Knockout's field flared with anger in an instant as he spun to face the human, transforming his servo into a buzzsaw. He snarled a threat before holding it underneath Danny’s chin, almost pressing against the delicate human vessels required to fuel their processor to keep them alive. It was an immediate threat. If the human’s head was severed, he certainly would not survive the ordeal. 

Laserbeak’s programming seemed to kick in on instinct. One moment, he was observing from his perch; the next, he was dive-bombing Knockout, knocking the mech off balance.

Knockout yelled in outrage, retaliating by swinging his buzzsaw at Laserbeak, who easily dodged the clumsy attack and swooped toward the human. He extended two tendrils (designed for data upload and tasks requiring finer control) and Laserbeak wrapped them securely around Danny’s torso and shoulders, lifting him up and carrying him safely back to his perch.

Danny made a startled sound and looked up at Laserbeak in confusion, trying to reassure the mini-con that he was fine and that this sort of thing happened all the time. But Laserbeak wasn’t having any of it. His plating puffed up, and his wings flared. He wasn’t putting the defenseless human down until the danger of Knockout’s aggravated state had passed.

Humans were small, vulnerable, and easily squashed. It was a miracle that the species had survived this long. Danny had unwisely provoked a fight he could never hope to win. The Cybertronians in the room outclassed him a thousandfold — even Laserbeak could kill him with a drop from this height. As that thought crossed his processor, he tightened his grip to ensure no such accident would occur.

Danny’s behaviour seemed to convey a severe lack of judgment, possibly even a damaged processor. Laserbeak would request that Soundwave inspect him once the danger is cleared. Soundwave had already turned his visor up to face them, as had everyone else in the room. Laserbeak unconsciously pulled Danny closer to his frame, protectiveness radiating through his EM field.

Starscream said something in outrage about leaving the human with Laserbeak, while Knockout muttered something along the lines of, “Let the fragging bird do what it wants.” Laserbeak bristled, his optics zeroing in on Knockout’s buzzsaw. Sensing Laserbeak’s scrutiny, Knockout transformed the weapon back into his servo. “There, you happy?” he huffed.

With the weapon gone, Laserbeak’s plating relaxed, though he still held Danny tightly. In response, Danny chuckled. How could the human find nearly being decapitated humorous?

“Laserbeak,” Danny began, stroking one of the tendrils wrapped around him. Laserbeak snapped his optics to him. “I’m okay, see? I was just annoying Knockout. I do that all the time.”

Laserbeak was not amused.

Soundwave tilted his helm at the mini-con, sending a silent ping to Laserbeak’s system: //Laserbeak: Return.// Laserbeak denied the request, removing it from his HUD and sending back a pulse of protective energy through the bond, optics focused on the current danger in the room.

After a moment’s consideration, Soundwave powered down the monitor, turning back towards Starscream and Knockout before pointing at the door — a very obvious meeting adjourned .

Knockout left without complaint and a flick of his wrist, though Starscream looked ready to argue. But at Soundwave’s pointed stare, he reluctantly stalked out of the room. Once the doors slid shut, Soundwave’s visor tilted back up to Laserbeak and his charge, this time, he spoke aloud. “Danger: passed. Laserbeak: Return.”

Laserbeak gave Danny a final, tight squeeze before he descended, gently depositing the fragile human into Soundwave’s servos for his master to inspect. Laserbeak sent a ping to Soundwave requesting that the human be examined for possible processor damage.

Soundwave’s visor was fixed on Danny, running a diagnostic scan, and sent a ping back that he didn't find anything out of the ordinary for Danny's vitals. Soundwave then turned his helm back towards the human to address him. “Request: Avoid aggravating Knockout in a volatile state. Threat level: considerable.”

Danny chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it under control.”

Laserbeak fluttered close to him, trying his best to give a chastizing chattering from his vocalizer that he hoped would help the human seek sense. Danny simply turned around to pat Laserbeak’s helm affectionately. “Thanks for looking out for me, Laserbeak.” His field flickered with appreciation. 

-

After careful consideration, Laserbeak had definitively concluded that Danny had a complete lack of self-preservation and it was up to him to keep the human safe.

It always seemed that the human was getting himself into problems he couldn't possibly hope to get out of. In all of Laserbeak’s research and reconnaissance regarding the human race, he had concluded that the aliens may be easily breakable, but at least they had the common sense to not try and get themselves offlined every chance they got. 

This human must have been the complete opposite of his species. 

This realization was why Laserbeak currently found himself diving off the side of the Nemesis to catch Danny, who had stumbled straight off the edge of the ship. It was common knowledge that humans couldn’t fly, yet here he was, tumbling through open air as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Laserbeak’s field buzzed with alarm as he scanned Danny’s vitals, but somehow, the human’s heart rate remained steady — disturbingly calm, considering the predicament. Processor damage indeed.

When Danny noticed Laserbeak diving after him, he even had the nerve to smile up at the mini-con. Laserbeak squawked in exasperation, extending his tendrils as he swooped beneath the human, wrapping them carefully around Danny’s torso and limbs. He slowed their descent gradually, knowing he had to be gentle to avoid the organic's limbs detaching or sustaining an injury humans referred to as ‘whiplash.’

Laserbeak brought the human back up onto the ship, safely depositing him in the middle of the landing bay at the furthest point from any edge he could find himself falling off of. Laserbeak’s vents cycled heavily as he began running scans for injuries. The human seemed to have normal vitals for himself and showed no signs of distress or trauma. (At least from what Laserbeak's low-level scanners could find.)

Danny chuckled as he dusted himself off. “Don’t worry Laserbeak, I’m fine. Thanks for catching me,” he said with a laugh, completely unbothered. The mini-con huffed and puffed up his plating, finding it hard to believe the human could find any humour in his near-fatal fall. Perhaps he was more broken than he’d initially realized. He ran another set of scans to be sure.

But there was still reconnaissance to do, so with one last glance at the human, Laserbeak took to the skies, sweeping the Nemesis’ airspace to resume his patrol. He didn’t get far, however, before his sensors alerted him to movement. Danny was wandering near the edge of the landing pad again . 

Without hesitation, Laserbeak swooped down, catching the human before he could get within ten feet of the drop, carrying him back to the center of the platform and placing him firmly back on his feet.

Danny huffed in protest, but Laserbeak ignored it, flying off to resume his patrol, though he now kept a much closer optic on the human below. He wasn’t about to be caught off guard again.

Sure enough, Danny inched back toward the edge the moment Laserbeak turned away. Laserbeak swooped in before he’d taken more than a few steps, scooping him up once again and depositing him in the same spot. Danny sighed. “Really?” 

Laserbeak chirped in acknowledgment.

Danny paused, then inched forward again, testing Laserbeak’s reaction. Laserbeak immediately flew in front of him, nudging him back to the center of the platform, his EM field pulsing with irritation. The human only laughed and tried again, but each attempt was met with the same outcome. Laserbeak’s plating flared in frustration as he continued to intercept each approach.

Finally, Danny seemed to lose patience, deciding to make a full dash for the edge. Laserbeak lunched out his tendrils, grabbing the human and lifting him off the ground, keeping him suspended so he couldn’t try another attempt.

Danny sighed, resigned. “Alright, I get it. You win.”

Laserbeak decided that it was too dangerous for the humans to have any access to the outside.  He turned around taking the human with him and used his codes to open the bay doors, running a scan over the Nemesis to locate one of Danny’s caretakers. Starscream, the human’s primary caretaker, was currently indisposed, so Laserbeak opted for Soundwave, who was in the ship's control room.

Laserbeak swooped through the corridors and located the room quite easily. Soundwave turned to look at Laserbeak as he flew in with the struggling human in his grasp. With a soft huff of exasperation, Laserbeak unceremoniously deposited Danny onto Soundwave’s desk.

Soundwave looked between Danny and then back to Laserbeak a question mark appearing on his visor. Danny smiled up at him. “I think I’ve been grounded.” 

Laserbeak chirped in affirmation before he turned with a final flutter of his wings and headed back outside to continue his reconnaissance.

[ANIMATIC] 

Here is the animation I made for this scene! It's on YouTube under my art account "Raevo_Draws" Please check it out and leave a like and comment! (I will also link it at the end of the fic if you don’t want to pause your reading) 

-

Laserbeak sat on his usual perch above the Nemesis control room, waiting for his master to return when his sensors detected a shift, and he spotted Danny walking in. Laserbeak's optics brightened as he focused on the human, running a quick scan as he always did. But this time, he noticed something unusual — the vitals weren’t right.

Danny spotted him immediately upon entering, waving up at the mini-con, smiling without a hint of worry. “Hey, Laserbeak. Is Soundwave nearby?”

Laserbeak ignored the question, launching from his perch and swooping down towards the human. He stopped, hovering just in front of him, getting close enough to do a more invasive scan. Danny instinctively took a step back, raising his organic limbs in a show of surrender. “Laserbeak?” Danny’s tone was confused.

The mini-con chirped, his scanners working over Danny’s frame from head to toe. As he reached Danny’s torso, his sensors caught something: an anomaly. A viscous substance was leaking from a wound on the human’s side under his shirt. Laserbeak squawked in alarm, extending a tendril to lift the fabric. Beneath the shirt, he found bandages hastily wrapped around the area, and under that was a deep, raw injury that had been quickly and clumsily stitched back together with thread.

Laserbeak’s EM field flared in shock and concern. Danny was hurt, losing blood. He knew humans required their blood just as mechs needed energon, and without armor or plating, their bodies were easily compromised. The realization sent another spike of alarm through Laserbeak, and he leaned in to inspect the wound more closely.

Danny placed a servo on the mini-con’s frame, gently trying to push him back. “Laserbeak, I’m fine. See?” He said, gesturing at the rough patch job. “I already dealt with it.”

But Laserbeak let out a low, displeased huff. The injury was still leaking, and for a wound of this severity, the human should be experiencing more pain — or at least expressing it. Ignoring Danny’s reassurances, Laserbeak extended a tendril and lightly touched the injury.

Danny winced, pulling back with a soft hiss.

Laserbeak retracted immediately, his field radiating an apology. So, the human was in pain. He was simply hiding it, trying to wave it off to keep Laserbeak from worrying. But Laserbeak was undeterred. He wrapped a tendril loosely around Danny’s arm to prevent him from walking off while he considered what to do.

Laserbeak could bring Danny to Knockout, but he dismissed it immediately: Knockout rarely had the human’s best interests in mind and would likely not even know where to start when it came to an injury on an organic. Danny tugged at the tendril, impatience pulling at the edge of his field, but Laserbeak held tighter, determined to keep him in place.

This was beyond Laserbeak’s scope to address alone. Danny needed a more thorough examination. Quickly, he sent a sharp, urgent ping to Soundwave, requesting his master’s immediate return.

Moments later Soundwave glided into the control room, his visor flickering and field emanating concern through their bond from the frantic ping. Laserbeak dragged Danny closer to Soundwave, urgently pinging him requests to look over the injured human. 

Danny rubbed the back of his neck, field drifting towards embarrassment under the scrutiny. “It’s fine, really,” he began. “I patched myself up. No need to worry.”

Soundwave ignored the dismissal, scanning Danny’s injuries himself. His field displayed a brief pulse of concern before he reached down, scooped the human up in his servos and brought him closer to his visor.

“Assessment: insufficient treatment,” Soundwave’s said. “Injuries: pose threat to Danny’s health.” His field became a little lighter as he sensed Laserbeak’s worry. “Suggestion: Seek additional treatment.”

Danny’s field flared in — fear? --- but he tried to smother it down and waved dismissively. “I’m not going to a hospital,” he explained. “It’s not that bad. I’ll heal up soon, I promise. Really, I don’t need any more attention, this happens all the time.”

Soundwave tilted his helm, silently observing Danny for a moment. After a beat, he addressed the human again. “Solution: remain under observation.”

Danny’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded, reluctantly agreeing to stay under their watch for the next hour or so. Laserbeak, satisfied with this outcome, chirped softly and nestled at Danny’s side, his tendrils close by in case the human tried any more evasive moves.

As Danny settled in, Laserbeak’s optics flickered with a quiet intensity. He would stay right here, keeping vigilant, and make sure this reckless human didn’t suffer further damage on his watch.

-

Laserbeak had been acting strange lately, constantly hovering around Danny and scanning him for injuries every chance he got. Danny found it strangely endearing, even though most of the times Laserbeak had “saved” Danny, he had been perfectly fine. But from Laserbeak's perspective, Danny guessed that he was technically putting himself in mortal peril all the time. 

Laserbeak and Soundwave both seemed to have taken it upon themselves to always make sure Danny was in peak health. Even for just a little scrape, or if he was a little dizzy, he would be put on veritable bed rest until the two cons deemed him fit to leave their sight. He couldn't even sit up without one of them moving him to sit back down, and the worry and concern from Laserbeak’s field always guilted Danny into staying.

But right now, Danny grinned as the wind rushed past him, sitting comfortably on Laserbeak’s back as they glided through the sky, one of the con’s tendrils wrapped around his waist like a seatbelt. Laserbeak was doing reconnaissance around a small mining town (Danny didn’t think those existed anymore) but Danny asked to tag along. Soundwave deemed the mission safe enough for his two mini-cons to go, as long as they stuck together. 

Danny loved flying with the Cons, whether it was Starscream, Laserbeak, or Soundwave. The last one happened the least often with the amount of work Soundwave was swamped with. But Here, with Laserbeak, he could relax. The silent mech always scanning and observing everything around them.

“Man, you really get a good view up here,” Danny said, patting Laserbeak’s side as they flew. 

Laserbeak didn’t respond, not that Danny expected him to. The mechanical bird was focused, always alert, and that was something Danny could appreciate. He stretched his arms, taking in the view of the vast sky stretching out around them.

Then something shifted.

Danny felt it — an odd jolt in the air, like static electricity crackling around them. He frowned and looked around. “Uh… did you feel that?”

Before he could figure it out, Laserbeak jerked violently beneath him, his wings stiffening as if hit by an invisible force. Laserbeak screeched, his systems suddenly going haywire.

“What the—?!” Danny’s eyes widened. 

Suddenly they were dropping out of the sky, Laserbeak’s flight systems failing as they spiralled downward. Danny’s stomach lurched as they plummeted, the ground coming up fast to meet them.

Laserbeak was struggling, and Danny had no idea what happened. Was this an Autobot attack? He had never met one of them before but he knew they were the Cons’ mortal enemies. Maybe an EMP or some other Cybertronian weapon to scramble systems he hadn't heard about? 

The ground got closer faster. Danny desperately gripped Laserbeak’s wings and tried to slow their descent, hands grasping tightly to the metal of his wings. Danny was staring at Laserbeak, trying to figure out what was wrong, trying to make sure the mini-con wasn’t in pain. 

Danny was so focused on slowing their descent and checking the Con’s systems that he didn’t notice the large abandoned warehouse/barn they were hurtling towards. By the time Danny looked up it was too late to use his intangiblility. They crashed through the roof (luckily with a much-slowed fall) and landed on a pile of old, rusted tools and parts.

Danny had been thrown off of Laserbeak and landed a few feet away. He slowly sat up, his eyes adjusting and ears ringing. When he finally blinked his vision back into focus, he saw Laserbeak lying in a heap. The mech’s systems were clearly down — he wasn’t moving, and the glow of his optics had dimmed

“Laserbeak!” Danny scrambled to his feet, rushing over to him. “Hey, you okay? What happened?” He put a hand on the Con’s wing.

Laserbeak twitched, trying to lift his helm to look around, but his lights flickered and he collapsed again. Danny swore under his breath. Maybe he could try and reboot his systems? 

He glanced over and saw how one of the Con’s wings was crumpled and he had a few dents across his frame where they had hit the wheelhouse and then the ground. If only Danny had been more attentive, this wouldn't have happened. This may be out of his league. Laserbeak needed Soundwave, or Knockout, someone who knew how to deal with Cybertronian tech.

Laserbeak’s optics flickered weakly as he tried to scan Danny, his chirp sounding almost pained. “I know, buddy,” Danny sighed. “I’ll get you fixed up, we just got to hope that whoever shot you down didn’t see where we landed.” He sat down next to the mini-con and stroked a hand on his back between his wings.

He pulled out his phone quickly and opened up his contact for Soundwave, sending immediate pings and requests for pick up, along with their coordinates. Danny knew it wouldn’t be long before the Decepticon third in command would come for his mini-con and his sort of adopted human (that is, if he ever got the rights from Starscream).

“Help will be here soon, don’t worry,” Danny reassured in a quiet tone to Laserbeak. Suddenly, he heard something outside the abandoned building they were bunkered up in. He tensed and strained his ears to listen. Laserbeak must have sensed it too because his field flickered in fear. Voices . 

“Where’d it go? I know I saw it fall over here!” One voice said, sounding closer.

“You sure that wasn’t just a bird or somethin’?” Another asked.

“No way. Whatever it was, it was huge! And we nailed it with that zapper!”

Danny froze. Teenagers. It was just a bunch of teenagers. Of course, it was. A bunch of kids who had made some sort of EMP weapon for a school project or just for fun and decided to start shooting things out of the sky. Danny glanced down at the cowering mini-con next to him as they got closer and closer. Laserbeak couldn’t even move a winglet with what they did to him. 

So it was up to Danny to protect him this time. He was due a turn anyway. If they found Laserbeak, there was no telling what they’d do, especially if they realized he wasn’t just some wild animal.

Danny stood up, looking around for anything he could use to hide Laserbeak. There was an old tarp draped over some machinery. That would work. Danny pulled it off with a flick of his wrists and then draped it over the Decepticon surveillance drone, tucking the corners under his wings. 

Laserbeak’s field flickered with confusion and Danny stepped back to see how covered the Con was. Danny could see the tip of one of his wings and his flickering optics reflecting a little bit of light from underneath the tarp. It would work as long as they didn’t look too hard. “I’m keeping you out of sight. Just stay quiet and I’ll buy us time till Soundwave arrives.

“I think it’s in here.” 

Danny crossed his arms, standing as much as he could in front of Laserbeak, trying to keep him from view. The kids shoved their way in, even though the door had been clearly barricaded, the wood splintering easily as one of them shoved it hard with their shoulder. 

The kids were laughing as they strode in, not noticing Danny at first. One of them had a crowbar in his fist and another a bat. There was a third who was holding some strange sort of mangled tech that looked like it had been pierced together from bits of a junkyard (looked like something his parents would make in the early days.)

“You guys lost?” Danny asked, his tone ice-cold. The three teens’ eyes all snapped to him, all going stiff for a moment. 

One of the teenagers, the leader apparently, smirked. “We’re lookin’ for the thing we shot down. Saw it fall right around here. Big metal bird or whatever.” He slurred, waving his hand to the side. Danny added likely intoxicated to the mental list.

Danny’s eyes narrowed. “There’s nothing here. So how about you turn around and leave.”

The leader scoffed, stepping closer. “You gonna make us?”

Danny clenched his fists. The last thing he needed was to get into a fight, but he wasn’t about to let them get anywhere near Laserbeak. “Yes, I am, kid. Now get out of here if you know what's good for you.”

There was a beat of silence before one of the teens made the mistake of grabbing Danny’s arm, trying to shove him out of the way.

In a flash, Danny twisted, phasing just enough to throw the kid off balance and send him tumbling into the dirt. His crowbar clattered to the ground next to him. The others hesitated, clearly unsure whether to keep pushing or not.

“Last warning,” Danny said, his voice dropping low. “Leave. Now.”

The group looked at each other before the leader of the group stepped closer again, brandishing his bat. Danny smirked at the weapon and when the kid swung it Danny grabbed it, easily wrenching it from his grip. The kid stumbled forward and made an angry noise, turning back around to try and punch Danny in the face, who easily dodged, causing the kid to trip over his friend who was still trying to get up. They both ended up in a heap. 

Danny held up the bat for them to see and then snapped it in half, throwing both pieces to the ground next to them. “Like I said, time to leave.” Danny glanced over at the kid holding the EMP-type thing. “And leave that here.” The kid dropped it and started running for the door, leaving his two friends. Danny winced as the piece of tech broke into many places as it landed. 

The other two kids glanced up at Danny and back towards their friend who just left and scrambled to their feet, leaving their weapons as they booked it towards the door. “That guy’s crazy,” one of the kids called out. 

Danny sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damn kids.” He turned back to Laserbeak and gently lifted the tarp off of his head so that Danny could see him. Danny then patted his side reassuringly. “They’re gone,” he said softly. “You’re safe now. Just hang on, okay?”

Laserbeak’s optics dimmed, his wings twitching slightly. Danny stayed by his side, keeping watch over the warehouse entrance, not planning on moving until help arrived.

A few long minutes passed before Danny finally heard the sound of a familiar engine rumbling in the distance. He smiled faintly as he heard the sound of the colossal mech landing harshly in the forest and the heavy steps of him getting closer to their location.

Danny looked up to see Soundwave poke his helm in the opening the teens made when they bashed open the door. Danny laughed lightly at the thought of the tall mech crouching down that far to see them. His visor flickered as he scanned the scene.

“Hey, Soundwave,” Danny called tiredly. “Took you long enough.”

Soundwave said nothing, his silent presence enough to reassure Danny as he finally relaxed. The backup was here. Laserbeak was going to be alright.

And for once, Danny had been the one to protect him.

---

Notes:

Thank you so much everyone for all of your support! It really means so much to me. This has been by far one of my largest series and projects and there has been so much content made! And even though it is a small part of the fandom and will not really score that big! Those of you who stay and continue sharing amazing comments and support me really make my day. <3

Here is the [ANIMATIC] link again for those who want to check it out! Please consider liking and commenting, maybe even subscribing so that I might get the chance to make something like this again in the future!

---

Find more here: Tumblr Master List

[intriq]

✧ Starfall

contents: more angst, the "in another life" trope

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Zhongli knew that falling in love was going to be hard for him, considering he was an Archon who could at any moment suffer the dire effects of erosion.

Not to mention he’d likely outlive any lover he had.

But yet, when he’d come across you in his early years as a young god during the Archon War, you had already settled down in life. In that lifetime, Zhongli only admired you, and did not think it would be right of him to fall further for you.

So he spent his youth making sure the home you’d made, now lost to time among the now bustling Liyue Harbor, having been built over for centuries, was safe. You never once suffered the effects of the Archon War, and was among the first to settle in the now present-time Liyue Harbor.

A few thousand years later, during the fall of Khaenri’ah, he’d met you again. And this time, you were still within your youth, likely your mid to late 20’s, looking almost exactly alike to the you in your previous life.

So he allowed himself to fall for you after just doing a bit of work to find information on whether or not you were in love already.

And when it was confirmed you had yet to fall for anyone, he swooped in to take you for himself.

A risky endeavor, considering you would only be a fleeting existence in his eternal life, and he treasured you greatly. Anything you could ever want, he would bring you. Anywhere you wished to be, he would bring you.

And whenever you’d need him by your side, he was there, your hand gently cradled in his.

And before Zhongli had known it, he had fallen for you so greatly that he could not imagine existing without you. He was almost desperate, wanting so desperately to make you a god yourself that you would always be with him.

But for a human to become a god was impossible.

And when Kheanri’ah was destroyed, he rushed to your aide as the swarms of monsters came. He rushed as fast as he could, hurrying to your aide as Liyue held its own, making the swarm follow them back into the Chasm, causing the soldiers and the one Yaksha inside to be lost.

But that did not hold any weight in Zhongli’s heart, as he’d so desperately abandoned Liyue’s army to rush back to your side, to make sure you were safe.

And when he did return, his sight was greeted by your home nothing but a charred crisp, with a trail of blood from the charred door at the front to you.

You were leaned against a large rock, and blood pooled beneath you, and the sight made Zhongli instantly fall to his knees by your side.

His blood in that instant was as cold as your lifeless body, and you almost looked to be peacefully sleeping, if it were not for the wounds on your body.

His hands tremble as he holds you in his arms, one hand shaking terribly as it moves up to cup your face. He calls your name, his thumb running over your cheek as he hopes your just sleeping, hoping to delude himself as to your true fate.

He pulls your lifeless body closer to his chest, his head hanging as he weeps, still calling out your name over and over until his voice is hoarse and his throat raw.

After many hours when he is no longer able to cry and no longer able to call your name, he buries you. And after you are buried, he erects a mountain above your gravesite, a mountain which is now known as Qingyun Peak. The abodes of his adeptus rest around it, guarding your gravesite.

And now, five-hundred years later, his heart still bitter of your loss, he is stunned to discover you.

He was sitting at Third-Round Knockout when he’d heard your voice. Despite hearing you many years ago, it still rings clear as day in his mind, his heart recognizing it instantly. His head turns, almost dropping the cup of tea in his hands as his gaze locks on you.

Even despite this being probably your third or more reincarnation, he knows its you. He knows it, for you have the same hair, the same face. Everything about the way you looked and acted was the same.

But most of all, your voice was the same.

He practically jumps out of his seat, his cup of tea long abandoned on the table now. And as he approaches he freezes as he hears you speak and show your hand to the friend you were with.

A ring glints in the light as he stops, his gaze locked on it. You were engaged.

You had fallen in love before he could find you again, and his heart is torn.

The greeting he was going to give you doesn’t make it past his lips as he can only watch you walk away with your friend, gushing with a voice so full of love about your fiancé. A voice that he wished could only be for him.

His hands clench into fists as he watches you disappear, the wound in his heart opening as he is reminded of the pain he’d felt when he’d discovered your dead body in your previous life.

In this life, you were meant to be with another. He could only hope that in another couple hundred years, he’d be still left alone by erosion so he could fall in love with you again before anyone else could.

And so, he turns, departing the center of Liyue Harbor as he tries to console himself. A few hundred years would go by quickly, he hopes. He could wait that long. After all, he waited five-hundred years to see you again.

He could try to be patient once more.

[melishade]

Dialogue prompt “what is a prime?” World leader question title?/rank?/name? of prime. Why hold more significant than cybertronias counsel

I should start making these dialogue prompts a list.

Willy had tried speaking with Optimus personally after the events of the peace treaty, but he felt as though the Prime was intentionally avoiding him and the world leaders. Some of his excuses included going to Paradis and assisting in repairing the damage caused by the Rumbling, which was harmless in it of itself.

But he noticed those excuses became more apparent. Like catching up with his old comrades, which he had frequently done. Or go to Earth to see his old stomping grounds. The world leaders were starting to get impatient, and with them rather peeved about Optimus forcing their hand to revoke all laws discriminating against Eldians, they felt like they were owed something for doing something that revolutionary.

All the other Autobots were busy right now, and there was one person who seemed to know the most about Optimus...to a terrifying degree.

"Megatron!" Willy called out for the former warlord with a forced, nervous smile. Willy could see the rather peaceful expression on his face killed the instant he called his name. He had stopped assisting with the reconstruction of a building and turned his attention to him. Willy couldn't help but feel a little awkward at Megatron now being able to tower over him more than he usually did as Matthew.

"What do you want, Tybur?" Megatron demanded bluntly.

"Well, the world leaders have been asking about Optimus and-!"

"He's busy on Earth," Megatron cut him off, "Something about a 'Day of the Dead' event."

"Okay..." Willy was confused by the statement, "Can't you go get him?"

"I'm not very welcomed on Earth," Megatron explained.

"Well can you send someone to get him?!" Willy was getting increasingly frustrated.

"Everyone else is busy-!"

"Okay, I know that bullshit!" Willy snapped before taking a deep breath, "I know it is-!"

"It's not," Megatron proclaimed before raising a digit, "Ultra Magnus has duties to Cybertron as a member of the high council." He raised another digit. "Wheeljack and Smokescreen are trying to locate survivors." He continued counting. "Bumblebee is assisting Ratchet and Knockout in identifying the deceased to give closure to the survivors. Bulkhead is currently assisting with reconstruction and Arcee is keeping guard on Paradis to ensure that everything is running smoothly."

"It doesn't seem like Optimus is helping," Willy grumbled.

"If you've known him as long as I have, you'd know that Optimus would constantly work himself into the ground," Megatron declared, "I had to tell Ratchet to force him to stop overworking himself, trying to give the people hope by assisting in reconstruction, because if any one of us is going to give the humans hope, it's the one that's saved humanity from extinction."

"See that's the thing: we don't know anything about him!" Willy declared, "We've haven't had an extended talk to get to know him. We've been told that the Star Saber is of great importance and we are aware that there is a council on your planet, but what about Optimus? What makes him so special that he is revered and respected by everyone around him? Even you? You seem to snap at anyone that has an ounce of authority-!"

"Your authority was a sham. Optimus' is real," Megatron declared, "And I've known him for eons, long before you existed. I may have hated him during a good portion of that time, but he will always have my respect."

"But why?" Willy demanded, "I have to report something back to them."

Megatron sighed in defeat. "What makes Optimus special is that he is a Prime."

"I...thought that Prime was his name," Willy recalled in confusion.

"Prime isn't a name. It's a title. The most significant title any Cybertronian can receive," Megatron explained, "Because...in the simplest terms...it means one has been ordained by our creator to fight in times of great conflict."

Willy's eyes felt like they were going to pop out of his head. "Did...did you just say 'ordained by creator'? Like...your god?! You guys have a god?!"

"Well, someone had to have created us," Megatron shrugged, "But yes, the Primes were named after our creator: Primus. The qualifications of being a Prime are...muddled, but worthy enough, and you could be bestowed with the Matrix of Leadership: the collective wisdom of the Primes."

"And...how many other Primes were there?" Willy asked.

"Fourteen," Megatron answered, "There have been false Primes, like Sentinel."

Willy recoiled at the way Megatron said that name, but quickly refocused on the topic at hand. "So, Optimus is...a demigod?"

"That has access to any and all weapons created by the Primes that preceded him," Megatron added, "Yes."

"...what made him worthy of being a Prime?" Willy couldn't help but ask.

"That's a question you'll have to ask him yourself," Megatron answered.

"Well, I can't do that if he's avoiding me!" Willy exclaimed.

"Fine, I will pass a message along for you," Megatron relented.

"Thank you," Willy said in annoyance before walking away from Megatron. As he walked away, ready to call a spacebridge, a thought occurred to him. A really fearful thought:

The world leaders nearly started a war with a titan that was ordained by a god. Willy was now filled with more dread and more questions.

(Yeah, I'll be sure to make a list of these prompts for later so it's easier to track.)

[crystalelemental]

I've been hitting a mild rut with Pokemon, while simultaneously retreating into familiar comfort games that won't really challenge me much, but I'm also feeling kinda stagnant.  My initial thought was "I should pick up another Etrian Odyssey game!"  And then I didn't.  But while looking for options, I realized...while I'm doing better with the Switch, I really do not branch out at all.

For clarification: the entirety of both my DS and 3DS library of physical games?  Pokemon, Etrian Odyssey, and Fire Emblem.  That is literally all I own, barring like two games.  Even the GBA carts are all just Pokemon Gen 3 and Fire Emblem 7.  I barely owned Wii or WiiU games, with most of them just being Zelda.  I think I have maybe five WiiU games total.

The Switch catalogue has a lot more variety going for it, more than I've probably ever had in my life.  But I still find it hard, sometimes, to branch out.  Part of that is finance, I don't necessarily want to spend on new games.  There was one that the art caught my attention in the news, and when I went to check it out it was fucking $80.  I am not paying that for a game.  It also went on to talk about your male protagonist despite all the box art being female characters, so honestly just fuck that.

With Echoes of Wisdom, I do think I've kind of identified part of the problem as "not wanting to feel stuck."  One streamer I watch talked about how the mobile market and console games competing directly with them has led to a higher rate of instant gratification and people can't sit with discomfort and frustration anymore, and...there may be some truth to that.  Granted, I was never particularly good with it, but I can feel when I'm playing an unfamiliar game and encounter something I don't immediately understand, my instinct is to jump straight for the guide.  I did that around four times with EoW, but there was one situation where I didn't and figured out the puzzle and felt super clever.  It's more rewarding, but it's time consuming, and I am covetous of my time, even if I don't do the most with it.

And what this results in is an aversion to trying out something new.  That's potentially going to eat a lot of time and what if I don't like it?  I wasted my time then, didn't I?  Because that's never happened before.  I certainly didn't have a phase playing and reading stuff I knew I would hate just to get mad at it.  So what's the issue taking a chance on something that might be good?  It is the lack of assurance?  If I know I'll hate it, at least I went in knowing what to expect, I guess.

In another direction, part of the issue is not really knowing what I enjoy.  Genre in games is already hard to define, but it makes it incredibly challenging to know how to articulate what I like, and what might land well.

Like, okay, I like Pokemon.  Maybe other monster catching games are good?  Nexomon was a knockout success (though not entirely because of monster catching), but I didn't care much for Cassette Beasts, and every Digimon game has been a resounding miss for me.  Nexomon was just a fun story, and Pokemon is nostalgia so it succeeds in spite of its horrid flaws.

But hey, that streamer calls Pokemon an adventure game primarily.  Maybe what you need is more adventure games?  Maybe.  But that's Zelda, and modern Zelda I do not like at all.  The open-world approach isn't fun, and I don't actually like tricky or punishing combat systems I have to be good at in real time. I wouldn't know what else to look for, considering my dislike for active systems in most scenarios. Do not test my reaction speed, it is bad.

Well, what about Fire Emblem, then?  Maybe you really like tactics games?  Maybe.  But if it weren't for Unicorn Overlord, I'd say the entire genre outside of FE sucked.  Triangle Strategy was awful in pretty much every direction, and even Tactics Ogre, which I had on good authority is one of the Big Names for strategy, felt so slow and offputting that I put it down after maybe two hours.  I know the ongoing joke is that FE sucks and even its fans hate it, but I legitimately think they're the only tolerable strategy games to me.

So okay, what about Etrian Odyssey?  Maybe you like dungeon crawlers?  This...might actually be the dead ringer, depending on difficulty.  I haven't played many, but I really enjoy EO (games 3 onward, anyway), and the one attempt at another in Class of Heroes did land favorably for CoH2, at least, despite some chatter about how the games don't get tolerable until 3.  I dunno, I thought it had personality.  I'd play 2 again.  I think it's just a question of how difficult others would actually be, because consistently, I hear feedback of "The game is super hard and will kick your ass," and I am admittedly easily intimidated by the prospect of difficulty I can't adjust.

But there are other aspects.  What about the Atelier games, you loved them even if you fell off after Shallie.  Ryza is rare and expensive so I've had some trouble there, but we tried Rune Factory 5 and it was...fine?  More importantly, the structure of these games gets me so obsessed that I'm in an actively worse mood when I am working.  I can basically only play them during breaks, or I am Miserable.

What about Final Fantasy?  Maybe you need more story-centric RPGs?  ...actually, maybe I do need more story-centric RPGs, post cancelled, anyone have Switch recommendations?  Bonus points if it's a female lead.

I think I just.  Struggle.  Sometimes.  To find things that I feel like would be to my taste.  I want to branch out, but I think I am often intimidated out of trying.  I don't really know what I want.

[lumenflowered]

[The video begins with Maria crouching before the camera, presumably hitting start on the recording, before—in a burst of silver quickening fog—she darts over to take her own place on the battlefield, and sends out her own first Pokémon against Red's Pikachu.

"Rakuyo. Let's begin, whenever you're ready."

Red whistles something. Whatever it is, it clearly means something to his Pikachu, whose cheeks spark even more dangerously before calling down a Thunderbolt out of the sky that is... if not clear, at least not actively storming.

Yet.

"Light Screen," Maria calls out, and while the first attack connects before Rakuyo can set that up, future ones will certainly be far less effective, if the faint shimmer upon the Meganium's skin is any indication. "Then, Synthesis."

Rakuyo doesn't look entirely unscathed, after that, but they didn't look all that bad even after Red's opening attack.

The whistle Red lets out this time is a different one. His Pikachu nods in acknowledgment and barrels in without hesitation, furry tail gleaming now with a metallic sheen.

...Considering how tiny the Pikachu is compared to Rakuyo, the fact that what seems to be an Iron Tail hurts them more than the Thunderbolt did is a little surprising. But from how visibly Rakuyo recoils away from the hit, it certainly does.

"Magical Leaf," Maria decides, after a bit of consideration. Not a bad idea at all, considering that Pikachu is fast and Pikachu is agile, and Magical Leaf can't miss.

A third new whistle, from Red. The Pikachu charges in again. Something shatters. The pink sheen of Rakuyo's Light Screen vanishes in an instant, breaking under what can only be Brick Break.

"Ah," Maria says. "In that case—AncientPower!"

With a determined look in their eyes, Rakuyo summons several massive rocks into being, throwing them all at Red's Pikachu.

None of it's quite enough to stop the Pikachu from one last Thunderbolt, bringing Rakuyo down.

Maria breathes out softly as her first Pokémon, perhaps her strongest, goes down. She thinks about it for a moment, then goes for another Pokéball.

Red doesn't take his eyes off of her. Neither does his Pikachu.

"...Hunter, your turn," Maria decides. "Dig."

The Furret in question visibly makes a face at the snow-covered ground, but dig she indeed does, making it underground just in time for the incoming Thunderbolt to miss.

For a trainer with a good deal of experience on Maria, Red looks legitimately alarmed when Hunter's attack knocks his Pikachu out. He holds up a hand, darts out to scoop up his fainted Pokémon, and only then sends out his next battler: a Blastoise.

(He does not, during any of this, turn his back to Maria.)

The battle rages on, even as the weather worsens. Even as the clouds above the mountain grow darker, as snow begins to fall, as it becomes what looks more like hail. But the battle continues nevertheless, both trainers trading knockout for knockout—the weather worsening seems to benefit Red more than anything else, considering how devastating the Blizzards from no less than three of his Pokémon are, so after Maria's third Pokémon has gone down she stops looking to him like she's expecting him to call the battle.

It isn't a short battle, either—full battles rarely are. But there seems to be a difference in the way that Maria is fighting, and the way that Red is fighting. Maria is putting her all into it, certainly, but not in the way that Red is.

Red seems... desperate, almost, to win, silent and largely stoic though he is, enough to rival even Maria. It's this desperation that leads him to make mistakes, that leads to the final matchup being between his Venusaur and Maria's Arcanine.

A whistle from Red prompts the Venusaur to use an attack recognizable, by those who saw Ade use it earlier in the fight, as a Sludge Bomb. Molotov shakes off the resulting sludge before Maria can direct him to strike back.

Before she can call out, "Flare Blitz!"

Fur cloaked in fire, Molotov lunges, barreling headlong into Red's Venusaur with a triumphant bark. Maybe it's what is known in some circles as a critical hit, or maybe Molotov is simply just that good—whatever the cause, the significantly more singed Venusaur stumbles and falls.

But so too does Molotov, poisoned and unable to remain standing—let alone battling—for even a moment longer.

For a few long moments, even once all parties have recalled their Pokémon, both Maria and Red can only stare.

"I... cannot say I anticipated that," Maria admits. She almost smiles. "Very well fought. Thank you, very much, for the battle."

She takes a step towards Red, extending a hand, presumably to shake.

Red, however, takes a step back, cradling the barely-conscious Pikachu in his arms protectively. And then another, and then several more, back towards a long drop-off.

Maria, seeing this, stops advancing. Her brow visibly furrows. "I'm... sorry, is there something I've done to... are you—"

Whatever she might have asked is cut off, rather suddenly, by the ground shuddering. By what sounds suspiciously like an explosion.

And by a good deal of the mountain peak—including the part that Red is standing on, and the part that Maria's Pokégear is propped upon—beginning to collapse into the chasm below.

It's not entirely clear from the video what happens next, considering how much the camera is shaking—and then falling. But against a backdrop of ice and snow, it's not too hard to discern that something reddish falls—and that something black lunges after him.

The video ends. It doesn't seem to have been posted on purpose.]

[princesssmars]

part of your world

finally created the little mermaid!au fic with prince abby and ariel reader

abby longs to see the world. little does she know that a horrible storm and haunting voice will give her what she's looking for.

wc : 918

contains : readers skin and appearance aren't described besides your hair being long! i also described it as flowing down but i thinkk that can apply to different hair types/textures.

a/n : thinking about doing a mermaid abby version since people were asking! i'm so against disney's remake mania but go watch the little mermaid 2023 if you haven't already halle was a knockout.

abby who has lived most of her life longing for an adventure. often thinks back on how when she was younger she and her mother would take trips on a royal ship to nearby islands and towns, spending time in the markets and having picnics on the beaches.

how when her mother died in a shipwreck she was devastated, her father banning most non-trade sailing only adding to it. after a few years, she manages to convince her father to let her join some of them and she's never felt so at home as she does on the seas with her crew.

but for a night luck wasn't on her side. one moment she's laughing and singing a sea shanty while some of the crew life her up on their shoulders and the next she's fighting to stay above water, watching the sea phoenix go down in flames.

the first thing she hears when she gains a bit of consciousness is a voice. its blurry at first but then it becomes soft, melodic, almost angelic. when she opens her eyes a bit she sees a figure of a woman before its gone in an instant.

for the next day its all she can think about. the faint glimpse she got at her saviors hair, flowing down her shoulders like waves. the little flecks of the sea on your skin, the shape of your lips while you sang to her...

her father and some of the workers in the castle think its a symptom of being at sea after a wreck for so long, but eventually they start a search for the mystery girl who saved the princess's life.

when she gets word that an unknown woman has been found on the coast she rushes faster than she ever has to meet you. when she bursts into the room her heart sputters as you are probably the prettiest person shes ever seen. if you were the one that saved her shed drop to her knees and propose on the spot.

but you cant be because you cant speak. she tries not to let her dissapointment show.

when you get invited to stay at the palace she decides to be courteous and invite you to explore a bit with her, and its better than she could have imagined. you have a wisdom about the world and the ocean she's never encountered with anyone else.

when she shows you the rock she discovered at a nearby island market you simply hold it up and drop it to the ground, giving her the mineral inside like you knew what it was the whole time.

everything becomes more confusing the following day when she takes you to the local markets. the way you smile at her and the way you look so beautiful while dancing throws her for a loop. but you are a bit odd, as when she was admiring you talk to the flower seller you gently took one from her hand and bit it?

later that night she takes you to the river system a little ways away from the markets to see the beautiful waterfalls and the fireflies that only come out during this time of year. while rowing she swears she hears a voice in her ear telling her to kiss you, and just when she think you are close to doing so the boat is nearly tipped over.

when she's lying in her room that night she is the most confused she's ever been. when she thinks of you her heart races and she feels nervous. in a good way. all she wants to do is spend more time with you and explore and show you every inch of her kingdom. but at the same time the thought of her mystery savior remains on her mind.

the last thing she remembers is heading towards your room before the voice that saved her makes everything blurry.

when she comes to she's apparently in the middle of her wedding to a woman named "vanessa" and in the middle of you saving her you've turned into a mermaid. her brain is stalling in shock but her body goes into defensive mode when some of the guests start to crowd in on you calling you a "sea monster".

and she cant believe it took her until this moment to realize it wouldn't had mattered if you saved her or not (although she is slightly giddy that you did) because she really does think she loves you.

she hopes helping you kill the giant tentacle monster woman in the sea will help her prove that to you because if it doesn't she will be a little ticked off.

when the clouds part and the water settles her kingdom, friends, and family are safe. but it's clear you've gone back to your home as well. and she's glad knowing that you're probably safe and happy. she just wishes it was with her.

its another normal sunny day as she sits looking out over the ocean, daydreaming and giving constant pets and cuddles to bear who sits at her feet, when out of the corner of her eye she sees you walking up the stairs and she doesn't think she's ever run faster than when she moves to pick you up and twirl you around in her arms.

when you pull back you look at her like she hung the stars and moon in the sky, and she hopes her face shows the same.

[clumsiestgiantess]

Chapter 22 of The Other-world Universe; it’s villain time, baby! >:)

all chapters listed here

[Round two: Knockout]

A blaring horn woke me with an awful cacophony of noise.  I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep, but I was sure that there wasn’t an alarm clock for me in the other-world.  “Ahh!  What’s going on!?” I yelped, sitting up in an instant with my hands over my ears.  “Finally, she’s awake,” an exasperated voice grumbled nearby.  Looking to my left, I found a truck parked right beside where my head lay a moment ago.  No wonder its horn had been so loud.  

"Wh- Why are you here?" I asked Mr. Stoll as he paced a bit further away from me, "I thought you said I could have some time off."  "Well, that was before I knew about this," he grumbled, messing with something in the truck.  "We received a radio broadcast this morning.  At first we thought it was more refugees, and in a way I guess it is, but.. well..  If I could just get this thing to-"  I saw another figure inside the truck do something to the machine Marcus was messing with, and soon a harsh voice played out over a speaker system inside.

This is Nicholaus Albane, head overseer of the Inter-reality Multiuniversal Research Division.  We know a human of our own size is with you.  She has displayed extraordinary power.  Unfortunately, it has been used against my scientists and has hindered my progress towards our goal.  I cannot allow that to happen again.  

There was a brief pause as static rippled over the radio.  Anxiety built in my stomach, making me nauseous.  If she is not present at our camp, or you fail to bring her to us at 34.5 degrees latitude and 28.4 degrees longitude…  Terrified cries suddenly burst through the speakers — too faint to be anything but other-worldian.  Everyone in this town will die.  Then it will be your turn.

My message to the unnaturally-powered human:  Do not resist.  You can not overpower the twenty or so staff present here.  Your tricks are amusing, but this isn't a game; no one's laughing.  There are lives at stake.  Come within the hour and the people here will be spared.  If you don't show up, I can personally guarantee that after every one of those little creatures dies, you’ll be next.  There was a sudden click, then the radio cut to static.

My stomach churned awfully as I realized what the scientist was saying.  They were holding an entire town hostage just to capture me.  If I came, they would undoubtedly drag me through a portal and lock me away somewhere, but if I fled, thousands would suffer the consequences.  Before either of the other-world people could say anything, I promptly rushed into the woods behind me and threw up.  There was too much going on, and way too suddenly; I was terrified.  Everyone’s lives depended on me.  But you already knew that.  Their lives already have depended on you.

I desperately didn’t want to turn myself in.  I.. can just.. leave.  All I had to do was concentrate on a thought and I’d be home — far far away from anything here.  The people from the portal wouldn’t be able to find me to punish me for not coming.  But what would happen if I really left?  I'd be leaving so many people to die if I did.  I couldn’t do that.  What kind of awful coward of a person would that make me?  Not the kind I’m willing to be.

Eventually, I returned to the field where Mr. Stoll stood, slightly startled.  The other person cautiously stepped out of the truck and looked up at me pityingly.  It took me a moment to recognize it was Ivan.  “We have no choice,” Mr. Stoll began, “We have to send you to their camp.  Not to comply with their orders, of course.  You’ll go there to fight them off with your gun, and whatever you need him for,” he said, nodding towards Ivan.

That’s right, with Ivan here I’ll have intangibility.  I can escape with that.  I took a shaky breath of air to calm myself and think straight.  I have to at least try to help them.  I don’t want anyone to die on my behalf.  But if worst comes to worst, being intangible can help me avoid getting hurt or captured.  “Alright,” I agreed solemnly, my voice shaking slightly.  “I’ll go.”  

Mr. Stoll immediately shoved a paper of sorts at Ivan and said something along the lines of ‘don’t screw this up’ to him.  “This map has the camp’s location and the route there plotted on it already.  The kid will take you.”  “Wait, we’re leaving now?” I asked, confused.  “I haven’t gotten ready.  Erica isn’t here, and-”  “They said come within the hour.  Forget about her and get going,” Mr. Stoll growled the same time Ivan said “We don’t have time; we have to leave now.”  I guess they were both right; I had to get there before it was too late, but I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of longing.  I wanted Erica there.  Her presence would be one small comfort in the midst of all the chaos, but there was no time.

Carefully, I let Ivan settle onto my hands before lifting him up to give me directions.  I strode with as quick a pace as I dared with my small companion.  Every once and a while he would give me new instructions.  Otherwise, the trip was deathly silent.  Fear and anxiety kept a capsule of quietness in the air at all times, only further increasing the tension.  

My heart broke a little as I left sight of the Cavern Town.  My magnetic sixth sense was pulling me back the direction I'd come.  It was a somber trip, just me and Ivan wandering towards the faint smell of machinery and upturned earth that grew stronger with each step.  The moment the scientist's camp appeared on the horizon, I hid nervously with my invisibility.  If there had once been a town there, it was impossible to tell.  The entire area had been cleared to stake the base of the scientist's tents.

What will they do to me if I’m taken?  If this is how they treat defenseless strangers who aren’t even taller than their hands, I don’t want to know what might happen to me — the person who can possibly stop them from doing it.  "Hey," Ivan said softly, looking up at the empty space where I'd been a moment prior.  "I'm really sorry about all this.  I don't think it's right for these people or mine to put this much pressure on you.  The only reason I'm here is, well..  Ok, Mr. Stoll forced me to come to the field, but I came with you because I knew you would want your intangibility.  Unfortunately for me, that means I need to tag along."  Though I couldn't hear it, I felt him chuckle lightly, "In all honesty, I wanted you to have at least one reliable getaway plan, because I knew you'd be a lot more scared without one."

Despite our dire situation, I managed a small smile.  Ivan actually cared about me; he wasn't here simply because Mr. Stoll or the overseeing scientist had frazzled him with the threat of annihilation.  His presence guaranteed a small piece of safety for me, even if it was at the expense of his own.  

I tried to calm my breathing like Erica had told me the last time I got scared by the scientists.  "So, do we have a plan?" Ivan asked hesitantly.  "Let me see if I can scout things out a bit closer.  I am invisible, after all."  “But I’m not...” he replied nervously.  I thought for a moment, “I’ll have to stash you in my pocket, but I’ll be sure to let you out before I go intangible, alright?”  Ivan nodded slowly, looking like he already regretted his decision to come along.  

Slowly, I slid him into my pants pocket and headed silently towards the scientists’ camp.  This one was a lot bigger than the previous setup I’d walked into when I first introduced myself.  There were three large tents about 20 feet long set up in a row along a small river.  On the other side was a huge tarp structure that looked like a circus tent, only it was a dead grayish-white color and seemed much more foreboding.  As I slunk into the edges of the campground, I peeked under tent flaps as people walked between them.  

The first tent held a plethora of strange machinery.  There were towering sets of humming boxes that flashed with blinding light every so often, and racks of glowing tablets lined the back wall.  Some things were still fairly recognizable, like a water dispenser and monitors showing the charted region of the land the scientists had discovered.  I held back a shocked gasp and waited a moment for someone else to walk through to give me another look at the monitor.  The amount of land pictured on the screen was worrying.  Is that a map of the land they’ve discovered, or the land they’ve already taken for themselves?  I hoped it was the former.

Moving on to the next tent, I found some sort of storage room piled high with crates.  It was empty of people.  These tents didn't seem all that impressive.  If I wanted to find out what was really happening, I'd have to get over to the large tent on the other side of the river.  I call it a river only because it would be that size to the other-world inhabitants.  To me, it was easily traversable.  The scientists hadn't even bothered to build a real bridge across.  A few slabs of rubbery plastic material were thrown across it to form a path just wide enough for one person to walk over.  

I couldn't go over the makeshift passage, though.  If someone were to walk across at the same time, they'd probably bump into me, and there were people crossing it constantly.  Workers zipped in and out of all the tents across the field.  They weren't even donning the 'hazmat giant' attire, just plain clothing — like they were simply going about a normal job.

Once I made my way over the river with a large step, I crept up to the main tent's entrance.  The tent flaps were held wide open, but I couldn't see much of what was happening inside.  I waited until the coast was clear, then slipped through the empty opening.  My mouth dropped open in shock as I took in the massive space.  I thought they'd flattened the town that was here — cast it aside to make room for this camp — but that wasn't the case.  The entire town was corralled in the large space beneath the tarp ceiling.  It looked like a model train exhibition, or something similarly fake.  I mean, who would corral a real city full of people behind a glass pen built for displaying things?

One quick glance around the gigantic room and I spotted eight or nine scientists working on various projects involving the town, which was fenced in on all sides by thick waist-high glass panes.  There were divots for people to step into the town, and clearings where scientists could examine the buildings more closely.  However, the barriers around the openings were still far too high for any other-worldians to even dream of getting over them.

I stepped over one of these openings and knelt down inside.  I'd assumed the other-world people were caged up somewhere, lying in wait as bait for me.  However, as I peered at the tiny town, I could see small figures dash by windows, boarding them up in an attempt to keep the giants out.  Everyone and everything was left pristinely untouched by the scientists.  I doubted it was out of kindness.  They wanted a perfect replica to study, and that was all.  The moment they finished whatever it was they were doing here, everything would probably either be torn down or taken away through a portal somewhere, never to be seen again.  I shuddered at the images that drifted through my mind.  

While I knelt there, one of the scientists wheeled a machine over and hooked it to a track that sat on the rim of the glass wall.  After a few moments, it flared to life and began making a slow circle around the entire ring.  What is that thing?  I didn't have a clue what most of the scientists’ machinery did, but as the flat metal piece drifted in my direction, it let off a blaring alarm.

The scientist who'd placed it on the track examined it for a moment, then looked directly at me.  I hesitantly stood up, unsure if I'd been spotted.  They then called over a few of the others in the room, and soon everyone was staring at the invisible spot where I stood, looking back and forth between me and the machine.  My pulse quickened; I could feel it in my chest.  Easing my hand into my pocket, I slid Ivan out and hid him behind one of the buildings as soundlessly as I could.  I had a feeling that I was going to need my intangibility soon.  Suddenly, one of the scientists cried out.  "It's her!  The anomaly is here!  Get the overseer!"

I slid into intangibility and raced out of the enclosure to an empty part of the tent as everyone stampeded out.  As much as I didn’t want to get any closer to where the scientists would be, I really didn’t want to stay in the little town.  I could all too easily flatten it trying to fight or run from the portal ‘giants’.

Just as quickly as the scientists fled, a new team of 'giants' appeared.  This group wore distinctly armored clothing.  A few were equipped with futuristic weapons that looked somewhat similar to rifles.  There were a lot more people here than I thought.  I turned hesitantly to visibility, but clung tightly to intangibility — latching onto Ivan so desperately I would’ve been clinging to him if he were still physically with me.  The crowd parted, revealing a tall, thin man with taunt muscles and eyes that were unmistakably golden-yellow.

He sized me up for a moment, then smiled almost welcomingly.  "I see you got my message," he observed, gesturing to my arrival.  His voice was undoubtedly the same one I'd heard over the radio.  The overseer looked between me and the captured town for a moment, then laughed haughtily.  "You were trying to save these tiny creatures?  How sad.." he mused, "That's just not going to happen.  But you'll be joining them on their trip through the portal very soon."  I tried to shake off his subtle threats and focus on what I came there to do.  I had to put a stop to this.  

I made my way in front of the captured town in a slow, decisive march, planting myself between the group of ‘giants’ and the glass walls behind me.  “This isn’t right,” I announced to the crowd, “Trust me, I’ve been in denial myself.  I didn’t even believe this world was real.  But I know better now; these are real people, these are real lives you’re destroying.  It has to stop.  It’s not right for you to do th-”  “That’s where you’re wrong,” the man from the radio cut in, putting a hand up to silence me.  

“We have every right to be here.  We discovered this world, so why shouldn’t we take it for ourselves?”  I huffed, “But there are already people living here!”  “Too bad for them,” he replied nonchalantly.  “Do your people know the expression ’survival of the fittest’?  Surrender or die?  Kill or be killed?  Don’t your people also claim land from others for themselves?”  “Well.. yes,” I stuttered.  “That’s all we’re doing,” he explained calmly.  “So pick a side.  Before we decide for you.”  “But that’s not-!”  “Pick.  A.  Side.”

I know who I’m going to stand with.  I have to help the people of the other-world.  But if this becomes an all-out war over land, am I ready to stand in the middle of it?  I inhaled a deep breath to calm my nerves, steadying my position in front of the town.  “I’ve already made my decision,” I remarked coldly.  The cruel overseer only sneered.  He turned swiftly on his heel and stepped to the threshold of the tent.  “Capture her,” he ordered, “and slaughter the town.”

The tent became a blur of motion as the group fanned out.  Some people headed into the town through the glass openings, while others advanced towards me.  I pulled out of intangibility and grabbed my new weapon — immediately firing at the people who tried to attack the captured town.  Dodging the oncoming shots, I rushed around the side of the glass barrier.  I flinched as bullets of glowing hot metal stuck fast in the glass.  Thankfully, the enclosure barrier seemed thick enough to protect me.

As the three people with weapons reloaded, I quickly switched to multi-shot mode and decimated one side of the glass wall to allow everyone from the other-world a potential escape.  Turning on my pursuers, I fired off another round and they all scrambled out of the way as explosions tore open the sides of the tent.  The other ‘giants’ clearly hadn’t anticipated that I could fight back with a weapon of my own.  

Someone gave a signal and those without weapons disappeared out of the torn opening.  As I held off the rest of the group, a flood of other-world townspeople made their way out the shattered hole in the barrier.  Tearing open the side of the tent with a few explosive shots of my gun, I followed the group from behind, still facing my oncoming attackers.

Once everyone evacuated outside, the ‘giants’ tried to surround us, but I stopped them with a shield smoke bomb.  By the time the haze cleared, I’d cast a protective dome over the whole group, trapping them inside.  Just as I turned back to the other-world civilians, a keening noise split the air — sounding like a higher-pitched gunshot.  I flinched expecting to be hit, but nothing happened.  Then, a shocked cry echoed inside the barrier.

Turning back around, I saw one of the people lying on the ground inside.  They’d tried to shoot the barrier to escape with a smaller firing weapon, but the bullet, or whatever the weapon shot, had ricocheted off the wall and hit him instead.  The others inside began panicking as they realized that there was no way out.  Before I could address either of my problems, another one emerged.

The group that had left earlier returned, armed with lightweight shields and more of those strange futuristic guns.  I fired off a few quick blasts as the new group charged me, shields raised.  My light bullets seemed to have no effect on the shield material.  The force of the multi-shot explosion caused my attackers to falter, but that was all.

I put the gun away and went intangible and invisible.  Come on Alexis, think!  What else can you do to-  Oh!  Of course, my abilities!  Racing forwards, I began taking them out one by one, using invisibility to attack unexpectedly and intangibility to dodge anything they threw at me.  I was doing fairly well until one of the ‘giants’ figured out my strategy.  He slid past my invisible arm as I aimed my weapon, grabbed it, and threw me to the ground, knocking it out of my hands.  I lay there stunned, shock chasing away the powers I'd clung to a moment prior.  The force had knocked all the air from my lungs and all the thoughts from my head.

Gasping for breath, I couldn’t stop two of them from hoisting me up to drag me off.  When they did, I was able to see the group of other-world people I’d saved, giving me some much-needed encouragement.  The Cavern Town truck fleet had arrived.  All of the survivors were being loaded onto the vehicles, headed safely back to the protected town in the valley.  Despite my dire situation, I’d managed to save them.  

My body surged with new life once I realized that my job was complete.  I slid into intangibility so I could escape the men's grasp.  However, they still held me fast.  What’s worse, they’d also seen the other-world civilians escaping.  I tried again to switch over to intangibility, but I realized that I had been dragged too far away from Ivan or anyone else I could latch on to; I had no way to get out.  Panicked, I jabbed one of them in the ribs as hard as I could.  He let out a surprised yelp of pain, and I tried to writhe my way out of the second person’s grasp, but it was no use.  The second man stuck his leg out beneath me just as I broke away, and I fell face first into the ground.

Blood dribbled out of my nose, but before I could do so much as wipe it away, I was dragged upwards again.  I thrashed in their grasp, but it only earned me a violent kick to the stomach, sending me right back into the dirt.  My fight to escape became a desperate animalistic struggle.  After a few more escape attempts where I was immediately thrown back to the ground, the butt of one of the men’s rifle-like weapons struck the side of my head — ending my struggles.  I was still half conscious, but my vision had gone black for a few minutes as the men continued dragging me off.

Once I could see and think again, I glanced back over my shoulder to see the other-world people.  The caravan was speeding away.  I'd distracted everyone enough that they no longer cared about them, but I noticed with a pang of terror that I'd almost been dragged all the way to the river crossing.  One of the tents on the other side had a portal inside it.  

Digging my heels into the ground, I tried desperately to get away.  If I could just find anyone to latch onto, I could escape.  However, I could barely stand anymore.  All I could do was try to slow my captors down, but that was starting to annoy them.  Finally, after my fourth or fifth attempt to get free, the man I’d hit turned on me.  His hands suddenly wrapped around my neck with a crushing grip on my throat.  I gasped fearfully, clawing at his fingers.  Faintly, I heard the other person comment: “We’re supposed to bring her back alive, Rowan.”  “I’m just putting her to sleep,” he growled in reply as more pressure forced my windpipe closed.  Seconds away from passing out, I thought ruefully of my family back home — how they’d never know I died here.  The force on my throat vanished, and I fell onto carpeted flooring.

It took me a long while to recover enough to figure out what happened.  My thoughts had taken me home.  The house was empty.  I vaguely remembered my family planning to go somewhere without me after I turned them down.

I sobbed in relief, hesitantly sitting up from my spot on the floor.  How am I so stupid? I chided myself internally, I could’ve escaped to my world any time I wanted!  Laughing numbly at my mistake, I yelped at the pain it caused me.  I couldn't make a single noise without my throat closing up or burning like it had been rubbed raw.  Slowly, I got up, nearly stumbling back down to the ground, but I grabbed a nearby chair for support.  I made my way to the basement kitchenette and gulped down water.  It hurt my throat, but I was desperately thirsty.  After my more primal needs had been taken care of, my adrenaline high wore off, and I quickly spiraled into fearful recognition.

The scientists, the townspeople, the hostages — it was all too much.  I had barely escaped with my life even with my gun and my powers.  The people from the portal world attacked in a group too big for me to handle; I couldn’t defend myself from all of them at once.  My first fight was a fluke.  I only won because the scientists hadn’t expected me.  This time, they called me there.  This time, they wanted me to fight them.  I should’ve known that they’d figured out a way to subdue me.  I’d only escaped because I remembered I could return to my own world with a thought.  If it had taken any longer, I would’ve been choked unconscious — stolen away to the scientists’ world.  And Erica had to watch everything happen.

I saw her out of the corner of my eye after getting thrown painfully onto my back during the fight.  She stood in the middle of the field, closer to me than the group of fleeing other-worldians but still far enough away that none of the soldiers could easily get her — staring in horror as I was thrown down again and again.  Weak and barely able to stand, I fell onto the couch feeling like I was dying.  Maybe I am dying.  I would disappear from the other-world never to be seen again.  Everyone would think I abandoned them, but in reality, I was just dead.  

For a few hours, I lay on the couch in agony, finally managing to get up for some pain reliever across the room before heading right back to lay down some more.  I can’t fight the people from the portal.  I have no choice but to leave.  I’ll run away and never go back.  The other-world residents can’t convince me to return if they can’t get to me.  My stomach sunk with guilt, but I reasoned that if I went back to fight, I would either get kidnapped, end up dead, or both.

Wait, I can’t leave Erica!  I’d already made the mistake of abandoning her along with the other-world.  I’ll have to separate the two…  I’ll have to take her with me.  Surely she’ll also want to get away from her apocalyptic world.  Especially now that the 'giants' are on the path of destruction.  I moved to lay on my side, staring at the empty spot where the table once stood.  The noises of my family returning home sounded from the floor above me.  My dad came down to see me, so I hurriedly covered as much of myself as I could with a blanket, trying to hide all my injuries.  I made an excuse that I wasn't feeling well, and he left me alone.  I was internally shocked at how sick I actually sounded.  My throat was still rugged after the forced attempt to squeeze it shut.

Several hours later, after the pain subsided to something more tolerable, I returned to the Cavern Town.  Well, a cutoff of the valley near the Cavern Town.  I couldn’t bear to go back there and be expected to keep protecting it.  

Sitting there in subtle secrecy, I thought through what I would say to Erica once she undoubtedly found me.  My brain kept thinking in circles from I can’t leave to I have to leave over and over again.  About a half-hour later, I felt Erica’s presence begin to get closer.  Sure enough, a lone truck turned down the cutoff to face me, stopping just short of where I sat. Erica stepped out and looked me over, agony distorting her features.  Both of us faced eachother in silence before she finally spoke.

“Alexis, I’m so sorry…”  I shook my head, stopping her from saying much else.  “Don’t apologize Erica, none of this is your fault.  It’s neither of ours.”  “You-” “I’m leaving.”  “What?!”  She blanched, stepping towards me slightly, almost pained.  “I- I mean I understand why, but.. You’re really leaving?”  "Yes.  I can't keep living here like this.  I'm leaving, and I'm taking you with me."  Erica suddenly halted in her gentle approach.  "Wait, but.. this is my world, my home.  I don't know if I can just.. run away with you."  

"Of course you can!  It's not like you have anything left here to care about.  Just come with me, then we'll both be safe!" I begged.  Erica's expression clouded over in a mixture of emotions that passed so quickly I couldn't read them.  "And what then?" she asked tiredly, "I can't live in a world that's at least thirty times my size.  You get to go back to your normal life, but what about me?" I flinched as I heard more trucks heading down the cutoff.  "Please, we’ll figure it out later, but we have to go now."  I reached out to scoop Erica up, but she sidestepped my outstretched hand and backed away.  "No!  Stop it!  You can't just grab me and take me off to your world, that's kidnapping!"  Clouds of dust sprawled out near the entrance to my little ravine.  The trucks were almost there, I had to run before they forced me to stay.  Anxious to flee the world and its people, I cornered Erica with both hands and held her tight — disappearing quickly into the air just as the trucks came into view.  The next thing I knew, I was kneeling in the basement, Erica still trapped in my hands.

[osunism]

Summary: A young widowed sorceress seeks protection under the aegis of the Honored One, but he has a better idea for keeping her out of the clutches of her dangerous clan.

Warnings: Gojo might be a lil' toxic, there's some smut in this story [a lot actually the attraction is pretty instant], and it's already on AO3 if that's the format you prefer.

I.

     Protection details are light work—usually. Gojo hasn’t failed a mission since the Star Plasma fiasco in high school, and even that had been an extraordinary circumstance. It is rare that one crosses his desk, requiring at most a first grade sorcerer for success, so when the Higher Ups call him directly to assign him to protect another sorcerer—a foreigner, no less—he gets curious. And when Gojo gets curious, he starts investigating.

     The dossier alone was enough to spark his interest, from the woman’s name to the information about her background. An entire clan of sorcerers living abroad! It is one of the rare instances of sorcerers being born outside Japan, and he wonders if even that is more xenophobic mythos perpetuated by the conservatives pulling the strings in the jujutsu world. Not only is the woman he’s to protect from a sorcerer clan—and a powerful one at that—she is essentially royalty.

     What intrigues him is that she was married to a non-sorcerer. Some nobody named Jin Hayashi. He was killed in a car accident a year prior, and since then his widow, Asabé Hayashi, has been living in seclusion in a modest house in the suburbs. He’s even more surprised that she is not far from the school…and that he has not once sensed her cursed energy.

     He learns why when she arrives at Jujutsu Tech for the first time.

     After his meeting and acceptance of the mission, Gojo finds her in his office, and for a moment he watches her. Her back is to him, and the first thing he notes is how…delicate she looks. He catches a glimpse of her profile: burnished sienna skin, a sculpted nose, and full lips. Her eyes are the color of honey, and her lashes are black and full, curling on her cheek like the crests of waves.

     “Do you mean to stare at me all morning?” Her voice is soft but sultry, like smoke or fog flowing over the serene architecture of a zen garden. Gojo watches her through his blindfold a while longer, his smile unwavering, although it curls a little more at her words. He comes in, shutting the door behind him.

     “It’s an old habit,” he says without missing a beat. “I like to read the room before entering. Kind of an essential skill in my line of work.”

     Asabé does not smile, even as Gojo comes around to sit at his desk, and he gets a good look at her. If he wasn’t staring before, he’s staring now.

     Asabé Hayashi is one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen. Even to say it does not do her justice. She is striking, and he finds himself ignoring the usual analysis of his Six Eyes in favor of just looking at her. The woman is a fucking knockout and he’s seen her dead husband. Gojo is wondering how a plain nobody like Jin Hayashi won the hand of foreign royalty. He’s also wondering how long it’ll take him to talk this woman into—

     “You are Satoru Gojo, I presume,” she says. “I was told that you could help me with my problem.”

     “That’s what they tell me,” Gojo says, trying not to sound breathless. God she’s incredible. Her face alone is a work of art. He wants to trace those perfect brows with his thumb, those high cheekbones, and that mouth.

     “So,” he says, even as part of his thoughts turn decidedly not wholesome or businesslike. “Assassins! Sounds exciting. But I’ve a few questions of my own before we continue. My bosses were a little vague on the details so you’ll forgive me if this sounds redundant.” He doesn’t sound the least bit regretful but she looks at him, impassive, gesturing for him to continue.

     “You’re a sorceress,” he says, watches her stiffen a little at the simple statement. Very interesting. “And from my understanding, you have a powerful inherited technique, and a powerful sorcerer clan. Why not go to them for protection? And what is stopping you from protecting yourself?”

     Asabé’s beautiful mouth thins into a grim line.

     “Gojo, my family is the one sending their enforcers after me,” she says and his brows go up in mild surprise. “And as for why I cannot protect myself…it is because of a binding vow.”

     Gojo nods, understanding.

     “Does this vow forbid you from using your technique?”

     “Only against my family,” Asabé explains. “A long time ago, my clan was nearly wiped out because of vicious infighting. As a way to prevent this from happening in the future, my ancestors made a binding vow forbidding their descendants from ever turning our gifts against one another. As you can expect, it has led to some very creative ways for more ambitious members of the clan to rise in the ranks.”

     Gojo snorts. “I wouldn’t know, but I’ll take your word for it. So, you’ve got a family who wants to kill you, but why? Your technique is valuable, why lose it by killing you?”

     Asabé blinks, visibly confused. Then, she gasps.

     “Ah, I see, it must have been lost in translation. No, they are not trying to kill me. They are trying to drag me back home.”

     And all at once, Gojo understands.

     “You’re hiding from them.”

     Asabé says nothing, but he sees the tension in her jaw, the hard swallow in her throat, and the way her honey-hued eyes harden in cold fury.

     “Yes,” she admits, and he can see how it nettles and stings her pride to do so. “It is why I have sealed my cursed energy to make it more difficult for them to locate me. But…living in Japan, I still stand out, as you can see.”

     Gojo laughs. “Miss Hayashi did you just make a joke? I do believe the ice is finally beginning to thaw!”

     “Gojo…” she says, and her voice sounds like a purr and a growl all at once. He takes a moment to try not thinking about how that voice would sound panting and moaning in his ear, saying things so obscene it would make the devil himself blush with shame. He really needs to get laid soon, but since seeing her he’s been thinking about it. God she’s fucking gorgeous.

     She clears her throat, rather conspicuously.

     “In any case,” she continues, “it’s simply more prudent to tap in with a community that can offer me protection. It’s not like I can go to the police about this kind of thing.”

     Gojo knows all about demanding families. Not that his is very demanding—he does as he pleases, but he also knows what’s expected of him. No, he suspects Asabé’s family is not unlike the Zenin clan. For that alone, he spares her some pity. He can’t imagine being seen as nothing but a potential brood mare for more heirs. No wonder she ran off to marry a nobody. Probably vastly preferable to being sequestered away to pop out babies.

     “Well, we have a few options,” Gojo says. “We can keep you here, at Jujutsu Tech. Tengen’s barriers are ancient and powerful, and we’ve vast resources if you want to study, meditate, whatever you want to do to pass the time. You also wouldn’t be required to seal yourself. But, you would be required to stay on the grounds in order to remain protected. I also won’t always be here to keep an eye on you, which I’m sure is counterintuitive to your request.”

     Asabé’s brow furrows as she considers his words. Gojo waits patiently, studying how her blood races in her veins, her pulse quickens, her heart rate rises. She’s running through all the scenarios in her head, he can feel that much. He knows without having to ask that she’s afraid to remove the seal and reveal herself, but he’s so perishingly curious about how powerful she actually is. Part of him really wants to know if this woman’s ability is worth his protection.

     Asabé’s gaze clears as she blinks, having weighed that option. He can already tell she doesn’t want to be confined to the campus. He doesn’t blame her. As secluded and protected as this place is, it has been breached many times before by highly skilled sorcerers. He has no idea what enforcers her family has at their disposal, but if they’re on equal footing with his family’s wealth and influence, he suspects curse users will be making their way here in no time. And he’s not always on the campus grounds.

     He briefly remembers Riko, and his smile almost fades.

     “What’s the other option?” Asabé asks, breaking the silence. Gojo sits back in his chair.

     “Well, the other option is you would be staying with me.” He tries not to look smug but the thought of this lovely creature walking around his home is…tempting. The circumstances being what they are, he can hardly be blamed for being a tad excited, right?

     Asabé’s eyes go wide.

     “Is…” Her voice wavers a little. “Is that appropriate?”

     Gojo turns out his hands in a shrug. “Does it matter? I’ve got a spare bedroom if you’re worried. And I can guarantee your safety more that way. Trust me, there’s nowhere safer in this whole country save for Hokkaido.”

     Asabé considers it. She has no intention of freezing her ass off in Hokkaido for the rest of her life. She frowns again, clearly not liking the idea of being roommates with the man who is essentially her bodyguard for the duration of her ordeal. Her gaze slides away, and she bites her lip. Gojo has a brief image of her doing that with his mouth on her throat.

     He really needs to get laid. Fuck.

     “Fine,” she says, terse and exasperated. “Do I have to wear the seal there too?”

     Gojo shrugs. “You don’t. But if it makes you feel better you can keep it on. I have to admit I am curious about your technique, though.”

     Asabé’s cheeks go warm and she looks away again.

     “It’s not relevant to your mission, and I try not to use it if I don’t have to.”

     “Your choice,” Gojo says nonchalantly. “So, shall I send someone to pick up whatever you need and have it brought over, or are you averse to that too?”

     Asabé frowns again, glaring at him.

     “I am not going to risk revealing myself if I don’t have to, Gojo,” she says sternly. “But yes: I would appreciate having my things brought to your…residence. Will I be confined there or am I allowed to come and go?”

     “How about we cross that bridge when we come to it?” Gojo suggests. “And trust me: it won’t feel at all like house arrest once you’re there. I’ve been told I’m pretty entertaining to be around.”

     Asabé stares at him, clearly unamused. Gojo lets out a little scoff. Sheesh. Tough crowd.

     When Asabé first meets Gojo her initial thought is that this lanky, arrogant, nonchalant idiot cannot possibly protect her. However, his cursed energy speaks volumes and then some. She felt him behind her before she deigned to turn her head and get a glimpse of him. And she is pretty sure that blindfold does absolutely nothing to hinder his sight. She wagers he’s got better eyesight than a fucking owl.

     And even his eyes could not discern her technique, meaning the seal she has placed on herself is working.

     After her meeting with Gojo, he makes a few calls, getting his staff on the job of moving her into the guest bedroom of his penthouse apartment overlooking the sprawl of the Tokyo metropolis from the safety of a quiet building nestled in the hills of the city’s outer limits. Asabé gets her first glimpse of the building during the drive: a sleek and modern high-rise of highly reflective glass. It’s the kind of place one imagines their future dark romance novel hero resides.

     In other words: it’s exactly how she imagined Gojo’s choice of residence would be.

     They enter the building together, greeted by a vigilant doorman who bows low to Gojo, holding the door open for both of them. Asabé ignores how the doorman looks askance at her out the corner of his eye, and she makes sure to give him her most impervious and imperious stare as the elevator doors close. She feels grim satisfaction as her withering look makes the doorman avert his gaze quickly and guiltily.

     The ascent is a silent one, broken only by Gojo unwrapping Jolly Ranchers to suck on. Out of the corner of her eye, she studies him. His skin is like alabaster, his hair as pale as starlight, but he keeps that damnable blindfold on so she can’t see his eyes. She wonders briefly if his eyes are sensitive to light. Back in her homeland, it is not uncommon for powerful sorcerers to develop physical ailments, especially considering how a lot of sorcerers suffer from brain damage when overusing techniques.

     Still, for as silly as his blindfold looks to her, she has no doubt he can see quite clearly.

     “Now who’s staring, hm?” Gojo says slyly, his smile becoming a smirk. Asabé’s cheeks go hot and she wishes she wore her sunglasses so she could stare in peace. Even then, she’s sure Gojo’s senses are superhuman.

     “I was just…” She struggles to find words because there are none to say. She was staring, even out of her peripheral vision, she was marveling. She’s heard of Gojo’s good looks, as well as the reputation those looks entail. And now she’s exiting an elevator into his penthouse. Once they cross the threshold, she feels nervous, as if she doesn’t belong here.

     Everything about Gojo’s apartment is sleek and modern, although there are trappings of tradition amidst the decor, and she can feel something inside her dim and muted as she crosses the threshold. She hesitates. Gojo looks over his shoulder.

     “You can remove your seal if you like,” he says casually, “this place is highly secure against cursed intrusions. It’s also insulated in case I have to get a little crazy. Can’t destroy the place in a fit of pique.”

     Asabé’s hand goes to her chest, and Gojo can see the seal nestled there beneath her clothes. A necklace? How simple…and curious. As they remove their shoes, he leads her through the kitchen, giving her the grand tour. It is extremely rare that he brings anyone to his personal home, even rarer that he brings them to the ancestral Gojo estate. Still, he doubts her intentions are to bring him harm. She seems skittish, her eyes seeming to be expecting attackers to jump out from behind the next corner.

     “And here’s you,” Gojo says, leading her to the guest bedroom. Asabé peers inside. It’s lavish in comparison to say, a hotel or motel, but it is no less than what she expects from a man like Gojo. The bed is large, facing a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook a sprawling green space and beyond the carpet of lights that is Tokyo proper, and there’s even a walk-in closet. She smiles, seeing that her things have already been dropped off for her to unpack at her leisure.

     “My room is down the hall,” Gojo explains. “I’m here when I’m not working or teaching, and since you are the job, looks like I get to be home way more often than usual. Help yourself to the kitchen—I don’t cook much, but if there’s anything you need please let the concierge know. Groceries get delivered so there’s no need for you to risk going out on your own, and the housekeepers are here once a week to clean. Not much, but it keeps me from getting lost in the clutter of the day to day. Pretty sweet, right?”

     Asabé smiles. “Thank you, Gojo,” she says with a respectful bow. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your assistance. I’ll try not to get underfoot.”

     Gojo grins. He’s not worried about her getting underfoot but the way she looks right now he wants her to get under him somehow.

     “Let me not keep you,” he says. “Make yourself at home and we can go over your situation in more detail, hm? Maybe order some Thai food. You like Thai food?”

     Asabé smiles, almost shyly. “Thai sounds wonderful. I’ll unpack and freshen up. And again: thank you.”

     As Gojo leaves her, he can see her gaze lingering on his back, curious and hesitant, as if there is more she wishes to say,  but she vanishes into her room, the door shutting softly behind her.

     In the guest room, Asabé takes a moment to really take it all in. Her husband has been dead for almost a full year, and her family has been searching for her relentlessly. She thinks about how everything went so wrong, and dreads being dragged back into bondage. She thinks about how Jin saved her without realizing it, and all he got for his troubles was an early grave.

     Asabé stares out of the windows into the well-manicured park below, and into Tokyo proper, then she begins the long process of unpacking her things. She opts to shower in lieu of simply freshening up, and when she emerges, she feels less weary and more clear-headed. It’s a lovely bathroom, with a deep, freestanding soaking tub, and a shower surrounded by pristine glass. Above the tub is a skylight. She loves that, and anticipates many relaxing bubble baths in the future, staring at the stars. She slips into a short but simple sundress, and pulls her long black hair into a single braid over her shoulder.

     When she emerges from the bedroom, she nearly runs into Gojo.

     “Oh!” She cries, gasping as he catches her by the shoulders. His hands are soft and warm, much larger than hers, and she looks up at him, wide eyed. His blindfold is off, and she glimpses his face for the first time.

     She has never seen such a face, save in the descriptions of angels and their impossible beauty. She stares, momentarily stunned. His eyes are indescribable to her, a blue that defies explanation, as if they are living pieces of the cosmos. His hands tighten on her shoulders only slightly as her gaze slowly studies his face. His mouth is soft and pink, and he’s not smiling, but nor does he look unhappy.

     “I’m sorry…” She whispers, trying to find her voice and wondering why it’s so small. Gojo tilts his head forward, those eyes studying her in full as he smiles.

     “Do I make you nervous?” He asks, his voice rich and deep, and Asabé shivers in response, unable to help herself. No, not nervousness, but something she’s not quite ready to confront. Slowly, oh so slowly, Gojo releases her shoulders, and she takes a small step back. It’s his turn to study her.

     Her dress is beautiful, but Gojo thinks this only because it looks good on her. The straps are so delicate, as if they are made to be slipped from her shoulders. He can see the the swell of her breasts beneath, and spots the thin gold chain around her neck, and the seal hanging from it.

     It’s her wedding band, he realizes. The seal is her wedding band.

     “You’ve been sealing yourself since your marriage?” Gojo asks. Asabé nods quietly.

     “It was the only way I could live here peacefully,” she says softly. “Jin didn’t know. I…I had the ring ensorcelled by a curse user who specializes in seals. It wasn’t cheap, but it worked. At least until…”

     Gojo can deduce what happened. Likely the “accident” that befell her husband was no accident at all. He beckons her to follow him and they make their way to the living room, which is surprisingly spacious. So much of the apartment is so open that it does make her nervous. She wonders if this design is his choice. It doesn’t feel very secure.

     They sit on the couch, with her curling on one end and him sprawling on the other.

     “Tell me about the accident,” he says, and Asabé hesitates. His expression is gentle, almost as if he is compassionate, and she doesn’t understand how he manages to make his eyes—so striking!—soft. She has not spoken to anyone about the accident since it happened, but if he can find any answers within, she’s more than willing to revisit it.

     “We were driving,” she begins. “Visiting his parents in Toyama. It was storming terribly, and we’d been arguing. His mother is—was—not very fond of our marriage. We were taking one of the mountain roads and…he couldn’t see the cursed spirit but I could. I tried to warn him…but he wouldn’t listen.”

     Asabé shuts her eyes, remembering.

     “It pulled us into its domain, but only briefly, and it was enough. The car hit something in the domain, sent us both crashing through the windshield.”

     This next part, Asabé hates to remember.

     “Both of us were horribly injured and dying. I could see my…I was torn open. So was he.”

     A dress of red, a skin of gray.

     “You survived using reversed curse technique,” Gojo surmises, his voice quiet and thoughtful. Asabé nods.

     “I can’t control it,” she tells him, “I didn’t even know I could do it until that moment. I just knew I didn’t want either of us to die, but I couldn’t save him. He died right in front of me.”

     “And the cursed spirit?” Gojo asks.

     Asabé fingers the ring around her neck with her slender fingertips.

     “I unsealed myself for the first time since leaving my family, and I exorcised the spirit myself. And then I called for help.”

     Gojo remembers reading about the accident during his personal briefing of Hayashi’s background. So a cursed spirit caused the accident, hm? And her unsealing herself means whoever her family sent to spy on her and hunt her down must have finally pinpointed her location.

     “Can you unseal yourself, now?” He asks. Asabé freezes, wide-eyed.

     “Gojo…” She whispers. “If I do that—”

     “They won’t find you,” he says. “Trust me. Go on, unseal yourself. I’m sure keeping your cursed energy suppressed like that can’t possibly be comfortable. And I need to see what you’re made of because if you exorcised a spirit on your own, you’re clearly not a weakling. Let your hair down, Miss Hayashi.”

     He winks, and her cheeks flush hot.

     “If…if you’re sure…” She says softly, and grasps the chain around her neck, lifting it over her head.

     All at once a great weight on her soul is lifted and she watches Gojo’s expression. He is still smiling but there’s a sharpness to his gaze, his pupils shrinking, and she remembers what she knows about the Gojo clan’s techniques. Six Eyes and Limitless…she’s not sure what either of them are capable of, but from his silence, she knows they are in use.

     Gojo has never felt cursed energy like hers before. Usually, the Six Eyes tells him everything from vitals to near-clairvoyant readings on moves everyone around him is making. He can see her cursed energy, a flame of the deepest cerulean he’s ever seen. Same color of his eyes if he were to venture a guess. It’s beautiful and it is so tightly controlled he knows she’s been trained, formally in fact. He focuses his gaze, chases the path of her cursed energy, and sees the brightness along her throat. Cursed speech? He tilts his head, curious.

     “You have exemplary control over your cursed energy,” he says by way of acknowledging her. “What about your technique? If your family wants you back this badly it has to be pretty powerful.

     Asabé hesitates again. “I…I hesitate to use it. It can be…overwhelming.”

     Gojo smirks, smug and superior.

     “I promise you can’t hurt me. Go ahead and try.”

     “I don’t want to hurt you,” she says and Gojo raises a brow. Most techniques are made to hurt or defend, he can’t imagine what power she has that could be for anything else. He gestures for her to continue. Asabé holds his gaze a moment longer, before she shuts her eyes. Without telling her, Gojo releases his infinity. He needs to feel her. God, he needs to stop staring at that brightness on her beautiful throat. He wants to trace a wet path with his tongue along it, feel how warm that satiny brown skin is.

     “You can’t hurt me.”

     “But I can.”

     Gojo lets out an involuntary gasp as he feels the sensation of…it feels like nails digging into his shoulders and forearms, yet Asabé remains curled on the couch, serene as can be.

     “How…?” He begins to ask and even though Asabé is no longer speaking he can see the brightness around her throat, still active. The nails are still digging into his skin like a lover clinging to him, and he activates his technique to repel it. He glances down, seeing no marks in his skin, but he can feel echoes of the sensation. The brightness in her throat dims.

     “Cursed speech?” He wonders. Asabé smiles thinly, replacing her seal. Her cursed energy goes mute, but Gojo has seen and tasted it and he will never forget it.

     “In a sense,” she says and Gojo cannot help but brace himself for another ghost sensation. “We do not have the precise power that the Inumaki clan does, where we must speak words that compel. Rather, it is our very voices that inspire sensation: pleasure, pain, and everything in between. With enough effort, I can make you hallucinate.”

     Gojo can’t help it: he’s smiling. He’s delighted. What a fascinating power, and a dangerous one. Compulsion is one thing, and the energy is not as precise hence why it can backfire so easily depending on how powerful the opponent is, but this? She can speak any word and empower it with whatever she wants her opponents to feel.

     “How did you exorcise the spirit?” He asks.

     “I sang,” Asabé says simply. Gojo laughs.

     “What like a lullaby? Did you put it to sleep or something?” He’s laughing still and Asabé frowns, rolling her eyes.

     “No, I sang until it was torn apart at the seams. It’s not just nails I can make you feel, Gojo.”

     Something about the way she says that makes all the blood rush to his cock. The possibilities of her voice hadn’t occurred to him until now. God, if he unseals her and fucks her, he can only imagine—

     “Yes,” Asabé says, looking amused as she watches him. “Even that.”

     Gojo grins. “I can’t imagine since you decided to seal yourself. Can you control it?”

     Asabé has the wherewithal to look indignant.

     “Of course.” She says through gritted teeth. “I’d not be much use as an heir if I couldn’t control my own technique. I only sealed myself to hide from my family.”

     Gojo leans back, casual and unbothered, and Asabé tries not to think about how good he looks, about the way his button-down is unbuttoned enough to show the beautiful column of his throat, the hollow of his clavicle, and just a peek of his chest. She thinks about how warm his hands are, how gentle he was when he held her shoulders. She bites her lip. Gojo can see it in her, her blood is racing through the pipes of her veins, her heartbeat picking up into a slightly fevered cadence. Her lips part, and her breath comes a little rushed.

     Oh, she’s turned on. Good, he shouldn’t be the only one sitting here wondering what she’ll look like with her ankles in her ears and his dick buried to the hilt inside of her. And her voice unsealed? Oh he knows that’s dangerous. He can always stuff her panties in her mouth but—

     “Stop looking at me like that,” she says. Gojo blinks, grinning like a wolf.

     “Like what?”

     “Like you’re thinking about having me with a side of fries,” she says. “Speaking of, you mentioned Thai food?”

     Gojo laughs. “So I did. Let’s eat and maybe we can both stop looking at each other like a couple of rival lions at the drinking pool, hm?”

     Her cheeks flush again, and this time she looks away from him.

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[privateanxieties]

forget my mercy, take my blame (chapter 4)

Summary: You are the same person you were a week ago, only now presenting as you truly are: hiding nothing, free of struggle. With your back to the sun and him before you, your eyes are black and resolute.

Words: 2.6K (graphic depictions of violence)

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SERIES MASTERLIST

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What do people think about in their final moments? 

You assume it depends on the amount of time they have, as well as the manner of death. People have disagreed on the subject of an afterlife for as long as they've been able to contemplate it, but the moment of death itself has seldom been the focus of debate. Of all the myriad ways that things can end, when the line is crossed and the numbers are tallied, you suppose anyone would say that all death, each one that has ever been and ever will be, is either violent or lucky. 

If there is struggle, there is violence. If there is not, a person is asleep, much like Sam is as you peer down at him. 

It's been interesting, this night, but as dawn looms over the horizon, your mood darkens almost in revolt. You can neither do this the way you would have back at the house, nor summon enough derangement to keep him in storage until nighttime returns in a little over seventeen hours, even if the setting permits a bit of mania. The desert looms over Tule Valley, shadowed by white rocks to the North and shapely knolls to the South, a barren nothingness stretching out for miles. Yes, nobody will find you here. No, you will not drag this out any longer. You already shot one more man tonight than you were planning to, though admittedly it was his own fault. 

Frank.  

You don't know what he was talking about, but hell if you cared to listen. The instant that he blocked that door with his body, your finger squeezed the trigger it had been glued to since you'd laid eyes on him. Served him right for sticking his nose in other people's business. If he'd just been a misguided stranger, you'd have let it go. Clearly, a few too many screws were loose in his head too, but he underestimated just how many were rattling around in yours. The answer was: enough to shoot him in the shoulder and take his van into the desert, with Sam out cold in the back like he'd said. At least he didn't lie about that, because you'd have gone back to shoot him again. 

The dark sky gives way to a crack of indigo in the far distance, and you push off the van's back door to approach the man lying on the ground several feet away. Given he's still wearing his server uniform from the diner, you guess Frank must've nabbed him after his shift. There's no visible injury on his person besides a little redness around the clavicles, indicating knockout via strangulation. Good — at least he won't be woozy from head trauma, because you'd like to talk to him. 

His face is plain, forgettable to anyone that isn't you. Twenty-two years old and not going to get any older. You scoff at his terminal stupidity. Having this much power over someone's life should come with a degree of somberness, but you're tired and cranky from hauling Sam out of the van and dragging Frank away from the door. You've done more manual labor than intended tonight, and it's not like you've had much sleep in the past week to begin with. You spare another look at Sam's figure, cheek pressed into the ground and breathing even. Nap time over. 

You don't have a knife, so you resort to grasping his left pinky and pressing down on the nail bed until he stirs. It takes around a minute for him to awaken fully, by which time you've stood up and retrieved your gun. You move a few paces away. For a moment you wonder what your face must look like, but Sam isn't close enough to catch all the nuances in your expression as he blinks at you with furrowed brows. He coughs twice but finds his voice pretty quickly. 

"Who the fuck are you?" 

Maybe your face is forgettable too. 

"Where the fuck am I?" he demands with a weak cry, voice hoarse from the treatment his neck received. He tries to get to his feet, but he barely turns onto his side before you let off a shot near his shoulder. 

"Don't get up, Sam." 

The gesture yields the intended effect. He stops and scrambles onto his back, scooting away from you on his heels and elbows as his body kicks up dust. You point the gun at his head, silently commanding him to stop moving. He does. You close the distance to what it was before. Sam glares up at you, but he hasn't had the time in his short life to build up any menacing qualities. There's still some roundness in his face from delayed puberty, because while his documents say twenty-two, the man in front of you looks barely eighteen. Some people just look younger than they are. 

"What do you want?" 

A hint of the stutter he had the first time you met him returns for that simple question. It's not one you've personally ever asked when finding yourself in similar situations in the past. No reason to play stupid and waste everyone's time. You raise an eyebrow. 

"You don't know?" 

A look of recognition passes over his features as he studies you, but where you expect fear or nervousness, something akin to vexation appears instead. His lips curl upwards. He's displeased and ready to make it known. 

"Look, I passed my fucking test! Tell Emi I'm ready. He doesn't need to do this shit no more," he snarls. 

New information. Hm. 

"So you don't know me," you say vaguely, studying him in return. 

"The fuck do I care who you are? What, are you some new bitch he's fucking this month? It ain't gon' last, I tell you that. Just do whatever he said to so I can go home. Got enough shit on my plate." 

There's delayed puberty of the brain too, it seems. He hasn't caught on that you are not who he thinks, but interestingly, the person he thinks you are is expected to behave the way you do. He's been manhandled, kidnapped and brought to the wilderness to stare down the barrel. He does so in defiance, not an ounce of fear in his eyes. Tests. Readiness. Emi. 

You put some fear right into his kneecap. 

Sam howls his agony into the expanse of the desert as the bullet tears through cartilage and exits through soft flesh. He grabs at his leg with both hands, rocking forward several times as if to get up. He's yet to understand that he'll never use that leg again, you think, because he does try to scramble to his feet again. It's haphazard and desperate, but it grants him valuable knowledge: he falls back on his ass in a stupor, looking at his body and trying to understand its betrayal. He can feel the pain, yet he can't feel anything below the knee. 

"Are you a good listener, Sam? I can tell you're not a good observer. Maybe we can change that," you say evenly, waiting for him to register your words over the adrenaline pumping through his veins. 

He looks up at you and yowls something fierce. From what you can see in the awakening darkness, there are tears gathered in his eyes. The fire burning in them is different now, defiance waning. 

"My brother's going to fucking kill you!" he screams. It travels along Tule Valley with its dips and mounds, only to be swallowed up by the sheer expanse of nothing. He has found out who you are not. Now, to refresh his memory. 

"You should be more concerned with what I'm going to do, to tell you the truth." 

He fumbles over the hole in his knee and wrestles with control of his ligament to no avail, and if you bear witness for a minute or two, it's not something you're ashamed of. A long sigh folds your body into itself as you crouch down to his level, keeping a knee on the ground for stability. Sam's whimpers have lost some of their intensity, and for a moment you watch him watch the blood that flows from his leg into the reddish sand, creating black splotches in the low light that resemble the ones on your front door. The desert is much colder than your neighborhood. 

"I've hurt some people," you tell him, commanding his attention before he goes into shock. He lifts his eyes to your face, and suddenly he looks like even more of a child than he did before. You nod both to yourself and him in the wake of your statement, as if to confirm you've really said it. Truths uttered inside a wasteland can be bent into unflattering shapes by something as inoffensive as a breeze.

"I have. Nobody that didn't deserve it, I promise you that. But I've never done this before," you continue, head tilted with a frown. "I've never let anyone go who I knew I shouldn't." 

"I don't know what you're talking about, you crazy bitch! Look at what you did to my fucking leg!" 

His voice is scratched, not yet broken. 

"You've hurt some people too, haven't you? Only, they were good people. Right?" 

The spell of dry wind descending from the white rocks to the North has travelled a long way to encounter you both, howling through the valley with a final effort to leave its mark on the wilderness. Its tendrils are harsh and nearly icy right before dawn, sending one last caress through the realm that will soon be transformed under a ball of fire. 

A flicker of recognition arises in the man's face again, and this time, he really sees you. In the absence of synthetic light, he sees your face from the same distance he did at the bakery, same hairstyle, same plain clothes. You are the same person you were a week ago, only now presenting as you truly are — hiding nothing, free of struggle. With your back to the sun and him before you, your eyes are black and resolute. You think of nothing and have no decisions to make. 

Clarity is good. 

The steel feels cold against your hand as it reaffirms its grip on the Kimber, but the trigger burns its shape into the crook of your index finger. You breathe. You pull. 

Silencer long detached, the true sound of oblivion rings out over planes and burrows into crevices, a responding hum finding its way back to the source as if the earth itself knows it has just become a tomb. You rise to your feet. A healthy adult man will take a long while to die with just one shot to the chest. That's alright. You want him to have all the mercy of the world he created. 

Four steps carry you to Sam Collins, who's a hair removed from shock. Chest rising and falling uncontrollably, it gives way to spasms and sputters both felt and heard as his fists pound the dirt against their will. The sporadic whistling produced by his lungs barely hits your ears for how delicate it is. Most of the gray of his shirt has been chased away by gravity luring his blood into the hungry earth, never to relinquish ownership. You find yourself peering down at his wide eyes and puffing cheeks and slowly get flooded with a sense of impending disquiet. 

He shouldn't get to see the sky. He shouldn't get to watch the sun rise over his last day and make the stars disappear by casting light upon them. The oranges and purples of a desert sunrise aren't for him to witness when others only get the rigid monotony of wood and steel, an endless night trapping them inside darkness before it swallows them whole. 

You wonder what he's thinking between gasping breaths and choked words. In theory, he wouldn't be thinking about anything but survival. Only if he has accepted death staring down his path can he start contemplating other things, but Sam is still young for the amount of time he has left. Youth is defiant, unafraid. It holds out the longest in the face of calamity. As he so clearly proved, youth is barely even capable of recognizing death. It either flees in the face of it or it falls quiet. 

Sam has done both. As he looks at you and you look back, there's no telling what you'll remember of him and this moment in another nineteen years, no use in searching for clues. Whatever your mind will latch onto is outside all control. What it knows of Mark Davidson is a look like a demon's and a fury like God's, and you buried them both under rock without spectacle or prejudice what feels like a lifetime ago. You remember fuel and heat, a thundering slide of earth and gravel. 

What you'll remember of Sam could be wind, just as well as it could be silence. It could be pleading eyes or a childlike face. Whatever memory will be kept, you bear witness to his struggle against ample tranquility. He's crossing over into darkness as the first rays of sun slither along the dessicated ground and towards his face, but just before his eyes are kissed by the morning light, the fire within them burns out. You remark on the color in peace. They're green. 

Clarity is good. 

.

.

. 

The downside of being undisturbed following a murder is that you aren't really sure what to do with all your clarity. The last time you did this you were behind the wheel of a stolen car too, but back then you had the benefit of mental turmoil. You weren't thinking about much more than getting away from that quarry, weren't feeling anything but guilt and fear and a pervasive sense of biblical doom. 

Now, you're maybe a little restless. Maybe a little inconvenienced. Overall, once you're done getting rid of this van and the coyotes are done getting rid of Sam's body, you don't know where you're going to plant your feet — besides Frank's dash, that is. 

Going back to your house is out of the question right now. You're not in Utah— you're in sunny California, staying with relatives and recovering from last week's events. Showing your face so soon will raise eyebrows on faces that you aren't likely to see again anyway, so there is little point in swinging by. You will have to eventually, if you want a clean break. Few things today can't be done remotely if money is no issue, but you sprung too many roots in that town and now have to sever them yourself. 

One of them is staring back at you from the phone you've just turned on for the first time in seven days, a written update from Eliza with a photo of Piper and Mae attached. The pair of rose-ringed parakeets are snuggled together on what looks to be a desk cluttered with psychology homework. You're not surprised they've taken to her so quickly as to be comfortable outside their enclosure. Eliza is a good, caring person and as gentle as they come. You don't reply to her text. 

Sifting through the flurry of notifications and emails from purveyors with whom you'd unexpectedly suspended contracts, your eyes catch on one message that is neither inquiry nor update. It's an alert from your home security system, encrypted and blinking impatiently for it to be acknowledged. It is. 

Only some forty hours too late.

.

.

-to be continued-

A/N: No Frank in this one again, sorry! But we'll get plenty real soon, and we might even get some other people we know👀 Please let me know your thoughts, I love reading them and freaking out over this story with you!

Taglist: @itwasthereaminuteago @hellskitchenswhore @theradioactivespidergwen @trashyart-y @its-me-ya-boi-lisa @marieloves-reading @daisyslibrary @trashcan-writes @mind-nine @reblogmisc3 @hufflepufe @this-is-where-i-keep-my-fic

Note: If you'd like to be tagged, reblog the previous chapters or the series masterlist! You have to interact with the story if you want to keep getting tagged for updates.

[bandits-whump-collection]

I hear you know a lot about sedatives. Is there anything that works really quickly and is really strong, like a movie-style instant knockout drug? I have to admit, I was a little disappointed at how un-cinematic it was when I experienced being sedated myself

Unfortunately not, or at least, not to the degree you'd hope.

The slowest method is intramuscular, which are tranquilizer darts. These aren't precise, and hit muscle to slowly inject through the fibers and eventually reach blood. They take anywhere from 20 to 40 minutes, and need a counter-agent administered immediately after whatever's been done is done to ensure whatever (or whoever) was hit doesn't die to it. Sedatives are lethal, upping the strength doesn't mean they just up how fast they work, it means the risk of death by overdose is increased. So, a dart to the neck or butt wouldn't instantly send a character off to dreamland (in fact, you don't dream under sedation), and if it hits a vein or artery, that can be it for them.

The second, is intravenous sedation. This is usually used in hospitals, typically taking 15-30 minutes. Unless you're a stunning sharpshooter, you typically can't use a dart to administer this, but if your whumpee is restrained, and they're perhaps shot with a dose of paralytics before being administered this...

The third is inhalation, so that chloroform rag a whumper slapped to a whumpee's face as they struggle before falling limp for hours? Really, it would take 5 minutes (compare to the other's double digit numbers) of constant deep breathing, and only keep them under for a minute once it's removed. But, if you really want chloroform, a way you could do it is soak a fabric bag in it, and tie it over your whumpee's head, resulting in constant exposure and your whumper not having to hold a rag the entire time.

And, the quickest and most dangerous, is an injection directly into the heart. There's little research past pet euthanasia vets, which I feel speaks for itself when I say that this method is dangerous.

But, a lot of sedatives have flexible times. Some take hours, some take minutes. If you want to use a real sedative for your story, research what type it is! If you want to use a fictional one, try to base it off a real one for a certain interest to the story. I always love watching whumpees helplessly struggle as they inevitably fall asleep.

Oh, also, because I hate when people go off on a different topic and don't answer the original question itself; this is fiction, M99 is probably your ticket to insta-knocking out your character. A quarter's worth of weight can knock out a couple thousand-pounds stallion. Have fun!

[smokescreenstuff]

So idk if you take ask or not but I really do enjoy Smokescreen being a predacons,

But I feel like since he's mutated he would be a smaller predacons than the others we seen throughout the show and movie.I feel like it would make sense that since Smokescreen is a small predacon he can't exactly fully transform so his old doorwings would be wings that he can still use despite not being in his dragon form.I hope that made sense because he would be very scrawny in the other predacons eyes and I still wonder how the other bots would react to Smokescreen being a predacon and later on in the show and how Predaking would see Smokescreen.Not only that would be still be with the cons/shockwave when the experiment was successful or would he go back to the autobots?Sorry if this was long but you should definitely continue it I would like to see how this goes since there isn't a lot of things with this type of topic nor a lot of people that like Smokescreen.😊

Yes, I take asks. I'm fine with any ask and will try my best to awnser them all.

I very much enjoy the idea of Smokescreen being small due to being "created" differently, as well as keeping his blue bio-lights instead of them becoming the Predacon yellow. The idea of Smokescreen losing the ability to transform actually seems like a good idea. Very much like how sparklings (baby transformers) are unable to transform until they are older.

Shockwave and most likely Megatron, Knockout, Starscream, and a few Vehicons are the first to see him. Most ignore him but some of the Vehicons and especially Starscream would taunt and make fun of him. Predaking meets Smokescreen in the same episode where he reveals his ability to transform.

While looking at the other Predacons he'll notice Smokescreen, being he looks different from the others. The transformation has already taken full hold, he looks much more like a Predacon, but Predaking still spots him from the others. Due to Smokescreen's brighter color scheme, blue bio-lights, and smaller size. Shockwave explains it as "trying a different way to create a Predacon." Which isn't a lie. Due to Smokescreen's smaller size Predaking sees Smokescreen more like a son then a brother, thinking Smokescreen is younger then he really is.

...

Smokescreen is released in what I'm pretty sure is the same episode. When Ultra Magnus and Wheeljack find the Predacon still in their tubes. Due to their almost instant encounter with Shockwave it takes them a moment to find him. During the fighting when Shockwave starts draining the pods is when Wheeljack finds Smokescreen banging against the glass. He doesn't recognize Smokescreen, but seeing as that Predacon out of all of them is so different, he's inclined to help him.

After breaking the glass and removing the cables Wheeljack sets the grenade. Smokescreen runs close behind quickly realized he can no longer transform. They make it out of the blast only to encounter Predaking, who thinks Ultra Magnus and Wheeljack both destroyed his brothers and were trying to kidnap his "son." The fight goes on with Smokescreen stay out of it, he's just not really in the right state to fight right now.

Optimus comes to save the Autobots, throwing Smokescreen over his back as they escape. Smokescreen passes out while on Optimus' back. Ratchet had already scanned Smokescreen by the time he awakes, no injuries, just exhausted.

...

Wheeljack: No idea who Smokescreen is, but due to Bulkhead's reaction he feels a bit bad for the kid.

Bulkhead: Immediately hugs Smokescreen before realizing he isn't awake yet. Gently puts him down and looks a bit worried about his current appearance.

Arcee: Stays back to give Smokescreen space. No matter how much she denies it, she's worried about him.

Bumblebee: Sits down next to Smokescreen in an attempt to give him comfort. Sad beeps TM.

Ratchet: Tries to focus on the medical stuff, after confirming Smokescreen isn't injured he immediately goes to working on Ultra Magnus.

Optimus: Looks stoic and all that, but if he ever sees Shockwave... He's dead on sight.

Ultra Magnus: Recognizes Smokescreen from his Elite Guard training. Too busy thinking about his hand to worry about Smokescreen... But he still might join Optimus on Shockwave's murder.

Miko: Doesn't get that it was probably not the best experience for Smokescreen, thinks he looks rad.

Jack: A bit confused, mostly worried.

Raf: Understands the most about Cybertronian biology thanks to Ratchet. Understands that even if Smokescreen has no injuries, he's probably in a lot of pain and stress.

June: Worried about Smokescreen's health.

Fowler: Too busy to care... much... Hates the 'cons more then he thought was possible now.

Smokescreen: 😰

[zzzallnite]

- The Extraction -

“Room service!” I knock on the door of the suite room. After a few seconds, a man opens the door and let me push the cart in. Inside, the room is lit with warm yellow light and simply decorated with a few pieces of rather unknown painters. The middle-aged guest signs to me to put the cart next to his bed, while he loosens his dress shirt down to the third button and leaves the unfastened necktie hanging on his shoulders. He loudly continues his conversation on the phone in a foreign language out in the balcony, assuming that I don’t understand anything. But in fact I do: he is talking about a delivery of a new biometric scanner to a governmental building in Vienna. I quickly take a glance at the man’s wallet on the coffee table when he’s still busy yelling at the one on the other side of the line with a funny accent outside the balcony. “PATRICK MUELLER. Head of Research and Development. AXIUS GmbH.”

Mr. Mueller hangs up on the phone and gets inside, expecting me to already leave. But I’ve got a surprise for him: I was waiting for him to enter the room and before he notices anything, I quickly put him in a headlock. “Arrrgh...Was...ist...los...? Arrghh...” He tries to pull by arm away from squeezing his carotid artery that pumping oxygen-rich blood to his brain, allowing the man, or any other person for that matter, to stay conscious. But his effort is all in vain as I have been practice this move a thousand times already. He succumbs to the sleeper and goes limp in seconds; before he passes out, the man lets out a faint “hrrrghh” pur like a kitten, which I find rather amusing. But there’s no time, I have other business to deal with. I immediately squirt a potent central depressant disguised in the form of a nasal spray; the drug was created by our genius engineers, who claimed the effect would be instant and the receiver wouldn’t recall anything, which may come in handy as I don’t want him to remember my face nor this encounter. I wait for 10 seconds... 20 seconds... 30 seconds... Mr. Mueller’s mouth slightly opens to take in some fresh oxygen for his brain, which was momentarily cut of just a minute ago, but his thin salt and pepper hair is still resting still on my chest, as he remains soundly asleep. Knowing that the sedative has done its magic, I drag the man by his armpits to his bed and lay him on his back.

“Target’s acquired,” I say to my communicator, “Proceed for next steps.”

“It’s about time!”, my partner answers back while she gives me the instruction of what to do. The cart I brought in earlier was just the cover for our little gadgets for this extraction mission. “Okay, first we need his fingerprints. Lay his right hand on the tablet; it will send the data to our field agent in Munich.”

“Next, I’ll need you to use the scanner on both of his irises at the same time.”

I try to lift both of his eyelids on one hand and hold the hand-held device that resembles a barcode scanner with the other. The man’s body twitches a little as the laser sweep across his eyes; I hold my breath for a second and let out a sigh of relief when I realize that he’s still out for the count.

“Here comes the trickiest part: voice recognition. But don’t worry; we’ve got just the right toy for it!”

“What the hell?”, I mumble to myself while looking at the unbelievably strange-looking device that looks like a shock collar and ball gag.  I could hear my partner giggling while she instructs me on how to use it. The collar acts as a the larynx stimulator, which send an electrical zap to activate the vocal muscles and the gag is a microphone to record to sound coming out of it. All I need to do is to cause his diaphragm to contract so the air in his lungs could come out, by punching it at the right place, which wouldn’t be a problem for me. “What if he wakes up?” I tell my partner, and she reassures me that if the knockout spray works fine then there won’t be an issue, but poor Patrick may have an unexplained stomach pain tomorrow. I open his shirt all the way to his belly button and proceed to gut punch the man; he lets out a faint “hurgh” noise as my fist contacts his solar plexus. I swear I could hear a snort on the other side of the communicator.

“His name has two syllables; you need to do it twice, consecutively.” I follow the direction and gut punch the still unconscious man two more times. Now I can clearly hear multiple people howling next to my ear. “Ok thanks for the effort, but we already has his voice recording from the reception!”, my partner says while trying to contain her laughter.

“What are you doing that for?”, I grind my teeth.

“Well, just because we are on a mission doesn’t mean we can pull a prank on our coworkers at the same time. Besides, the man won’t realize a thing. We already had the necessary data so you can retreat now. Unless, of course, you want to spend some sexy time with Mr. Mueller.”

I have to admit, I am aroused by his whole look right now: silver fox, curly chest hair, disheveled business attire, out cold and vulnerable. But his attitude earlier on the phone just slightly turns me off, and also I can see a ring on his finger – he’s married, although probably very unhappily, I still don’t want to be a home wrecker. I only do one last favor by taking a pic of Mueller’s junk for my girl back at the office, but a limp one doesn’t make any sense. I awkwardly put the shock collar around his penis and scrotum and zap it until his soft puppy turns rock hard.

A solid 7 inches... Maybe Patrick was happily married after all...

I undress the unconscious man, leaving only his brief and dress socks on, and put him in a silk robe, so that he could doze off the drug comfortably until morning, as a thank you for his cooperation. I pull out the cart out of the room, turn off the light and make a smooth escape, for another mission well-done.

[beatskylar]

A broken memory, is a knife to the heart. Part 3

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Who are you?” “And what are you doing here?”

Taking a deep breath in, Carmen slowly exhales as her eyes flutter open revealing that she is in a different room. The stiff bed she’s gotten used to is now gone, and as she begins to feel the tension in her back muscles, the awful bed is deeply missed. Both of her forearms, palms, and left cheek are pressed against cold metal, and as she slowly rises from her bent position, she begins to feel her muscles relax. “Never thought I would miss my bed back at the academy,” Carmen whispers as she rotates her shoulders and neck, but the crick in her neck refuses to leave, the pain and soreness a familiar sensation to her.

“Shadowsan! Shadowsan!” The young girl yells as she skips behind the master of stealth, who continues his walk to his classroom. Without verbally acknowledging her presents, the girl knows that he’s waiting and listing. His strides have become slower, a change was barely noticeable to passing by students but a clear sign for her. “Can you teach me that neck knockout thing?” Once she is close enough, she jumps to reach his neck, unable to lay a finger on her target.

“The pressure point pinch.” After another failed attempt, she stops her efforts knowing he’ll get mad if she decides to continue. Finally, after years of getting in trouble, Carmen knows how far she can push things before the faculty get angry with her. Coach Brunt, being the mama bear she is, doesn’t mind anything she does, even going out of her way to excuse the girl’s behavior as ‘Learning new skills.’ Professor Maelstrom and Dr. Bellum allowed six attempts, on their good days, before they become irritated and threaten to call the Cleaners on her. Countess Cleo gives her three tries, and on the fourth try, she forces the girl to take a ten-hour lecture on how to be a ‘Proper Lady’. Lastly, Shadowsan might allow two attempts before he starts grunting in disapproval.

“Yeah, that!” When he doesn’t utter another word, she continues before he returns to his normal pace. “Blackout betted I couldn’t knock him out and I am going to enjoy proving him wrong. At first, I thought of asking Boris and Vlad for help, but they only appear when I do something ‘wrong’ and/or ‘foolish’. Then I thought of using oil, but Professor Maelstrom banned me from the kitchen after, and I quote ‘covered the stairs leading to VILE in oil, causing Cookie Brooker and several other operatives to fall and hit their heads’… Which I am innocent of doing, I swear it was Neal the Eel, despite footage showing otherwise.”

“If I teach you, will you leave me alone?” In an instant, he completely stops in his tracks, which leads the girl to bump into his legs. A grunt escapes him, but she will not let him change his mind. Immediately she agrees to his demand, running around his legs so she is standing in front of him. “Alright. I will teach you when you wake up.”

“Wake up?” Before she could realize what he meant; the man leans down so they are at eye level as his right hand rested on her shoulder. In a swift motion, he quickly applies slight pressure to the muscles on her neck.

Lifting her right arm to massage her neck, Carmen feels it. The slight sting on her wrist as the metal cuff moves against her irritated skin. “Of course, they wouldn’t make it too easy for me, that wouldn’t be fun.” It doesn’t take her long to see the cuffs around her wrist aren’t standard police handcuffs. The metal link is longer than it should be, allowing enough room for her to stretch one arm at a time but making it difficult to fight at her fullest capability. There is no way she can pick the lock, considering she’s without any of her gadgets and there is no keyhole to even pick. In an instant, she understands that the cuffs are using a magnetic lock, and the only way she’s getting out is if she steals one of the blue coat’s keycards. No random idiot’s clearance level will work either, she’s going to need one of the bimbos that arrested her or the boss’s card.

The table Carmen is sitting at shows signs of being altered to keep her restrained. The metal bar, ensuring she remains stuck with the table, is a dark copper that stands out from the silver table. The bolts on either end of the pipe are hastily screwed into the table and pipe, the quick work leaving some space between the bar and screw head. Not a lot, but just enough for her to unscrew the screws. Running her left index finger over the end, the sharp metal begins tugging at her skin, with enough pressure and speed the pipe could cut skin.

Looking around the room, Carmen sees that she’s in a typical interrogation room. Two metal chairs on the other side of the table. One exit to her left that must be unlocked from the other side as there’s only a handle to pull the door open. Flickering lights hang above her, a slight hum the only sound she hears, as her eyes land on the two-way mirror, five feet away from her. Focusing on her reflection, Carmen leans forward being sure she moves both of her hands in front of the screws, effectively hiding them from view. As she tilts her head to the right, she discreetly tests how well the bolts are tightened. The hard part is to hide her thumb’s movements to avoid anyone on the other side of the mirror seeing what she is up to. When she feels both screws budge a little, only being able to do half a turn, Carmen knows that if she wants to escape, she first needs to remove the nuts from under the table.

There must be at least ten agents that can easily be taken care of, but Shadows will be a threat she needs to prepare for. The only thing that might stop the ex-faculty member from playing hero, is a hostage. The male agent, with the glasses, is going to put up a fight and he has already proven to have no regard for his safety or the safety of others. The female agent on the other hand barely put up a fight against Carmen, even going out of her way to tell the other agent not to hurt her.

Leaning backward till her back is pressed against the metal chair, Carmen sighs in relief. It’s going to take some doing but she’s going to be able to escape. All she needs to do is play her cards right and she’ll be walking back to VILE with the greatest price in the world, a bluecoat.

As she stares at her reflection, an image of herself without her signature red coat and fedora brings a shiver to her spine. A reminder of a time before she graduated from VILE, a reminder of a bright-eyed child that admired Shadowsan, and was attentive to every single word that came from his mouth. Carmen loathes that she tried so hard to make him proud, all those years before she even enrolled in VILE, spent trying and failing to prove herself. Everyone in the faculty had approved of her skills before she was able to walk, the only one who constantly refused to acknowledge her abilities was and still is Shadowsan. All of her accomplishments were undermined by him, whenever she bested an operative, he would state it was because she received help from Coach Brunt or she cheated.

“Black Sheep, you had better be certain that becoming a professional thief is what you truly desire, for if you choose this road there will be no turning back.”

“I want this more than anything Instructor Shadowsan, and I am willing to go to the end of the line.” As she bows to him, her posture remains firm and calm but her heart beats fast enough to fly out of her chest. She doesn’t want to show how badly she wants his approval, how even if the rest of the faculty tells her no, she’ll be ecstatic if he just for once approved. As she slowly rises in time to see the vote, her heart stops at the sight. Once again, the faculty approved of her, except Shadowsan. Her heart stops beating and falls to her feet as the ninja leaves, she wants to throw up at the feeling of being rejected again, for the millionth time.

The hiss of the metal door opening draws Carmen's eyes to the only exit as a pair walk in, one of them being the agent she tried to kill in the Ferris wheel. Neither are wearing suits, instead choosing to remain in their civilian disguises. The girl holds a single red laptop in her hands, setting it carefully on the table before taking a seat. The other agent takes a long time to sit down.

"I see you survived your little fall; I was starting to get a little worried I missed your funeral. Guess I won't need to pay my respects... yet." In an instance, both agents react to her comment, the female clenching her fist to calm down while the male agent looks away from Carmen, his eyes showing the fear of being reminded about his fall. Seeing she hit a nerve, Carmen innocently smiles at the two. As the three of them fall into silence, the girl uses the time to start up her computer while the boy stares at the oh-so-fascinating floor. Taking a small glance down, Carmen sees why the stained floors have the young agent’s attention. "Tell me, agent was your free fall the other day your first? Wasn't it exciting feeling the wind hitting you as you fell?" Carmen makes it a point to whistle a tune that starts off at a high pitch and quickly lowers, mimicking the sound effects as a cartoon character would fall.

The boy doesn’t have a great poker face, as he grimaces at her words, and she leans towards him. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees that the female has turned the laptop to point at Carmen, but her blue eyes focus on the male. “Just breathe bro-“

“Yes, just keep breathing, and breathing because-” Slowly moving her right hand under the table, Carmen begins the process of unscrewing the nut as she states. “I wonder how many breaths you’ll take before I take your last.” Her shell of a threat works, her eyes noticing him gulp as he leans away, almost causing him to fall onto the floor. Despite knowing she won’t be able to follow through with the threat if she wants to escape, it helps elevate Carmen’s situation. If they are going to keep her imprisoned, the least they could do is allow her to mentally break the agents.

“We might be friends, but I will not let you talk to him like that!” The female yells, slamming her left hand down next to Carmen’s. For a moment she stops unscrewing the nut as her brown eyes meet the agent’s eyes.

“We are not friends.”

“Yes, we are!” Sighing, the girl sits back and takes a deep breath before continuing. “We are more than friends, we are family-“

“Don’t make me laugh.” Out of the corner of her eye, Carmen sees the laptop turn on and she is immediately greeted by a young boy. He looks unsure as he stares at her, bags under his eyes yet he keeps them wide open. For several minutes no one says anything, no one even moves a muscle as everyone waits. Everyone is staring at her, and she hates it with a passion.

A thief isn’t supposed to be seen; she’s supposed to be like a ghost. Appear and then disappear.

“They’ve been calling you the crimson ghost, red.”

“Really? What an honor.”

Closing her eyes, Carmen forces the voices in her head out. She needs to stay focused, and she needs to get to work. Breathing in and then out, Carmen opens her eyes and begins unscrewing the nut again. Her left hand hid the bolt from the agent’s view.

“Red, do you remember me?” Carmen doesn’t reply, just letting her eyes linger on him. She has never seen him before, and she starts to wonder how long this agency has been after her. If they know anything about VILE. “My name is Player, and I’ve been- we’ve known- I’m your friend, best friend.” Her features remain still, not showing an ounce of emotion as she forces herself not to roll her eyes. No one at VILE had friends, especially the faculty. There were only the fellow thieves you could work with and the thieves you wish you could push off a cliff. And even though she got along with Crackle, Carmen still didn’t consider him a friend, because she knew if they were to ever be trapped, with law enforcement creeping in. She would throw him under the bus.

She can never be caught…. Unless it was worth it.

“I was there for your first caper when we meet Ivy and Zack,” Player stops for a minute, gesturing to the agents in the room, as they smile. It’s faint, and with one look from Carmen, Zack loses his smile as he shrinks into himself. “The four of us have been inseparable since then, and we’ve only gotten closer when Shadowsan joined us.”

A soft chuckle leaves Carmen’s mouth just as she was able to remove the nut and can feel the bolt come loose enough that she can yank it out of the table. Shifting her body to look at the young boy through the screen, she positions her left hand over the remaining bolt. Her right-hand repeats the process of removing the nut that is keeping her trapped. “You don’t say? Tell me ‘best friend’ what other grand adventures we’ve been on.” The young boy begins detailing events but with every twist of the nut, Carmen tunes him out until the nut drops in her waiting palm. Taking a deep breath, she leans her head back which makes the boy quit talking.

“Carmen?” The girl asks, but when they lock eyes, Carmen springs into action. Pulling the metal bar out, she leans back far enough to use her legs to push the metal table toward the two agents. The red-headed boy is just barely able to jump away from the table as the other agent’s back is smacked against the see-through glass and pinned there by the table. As she slowly makes her way to the terrified agent, she throws one of the nuts at the laptop screen, causing it to crack as the boy yells her name. The second nut she has makes immediate contact with the female’s forehead.

Before Carmen can get the chance to torture the agent in front of her, the door leading to her exit bursts open as more agents barge in. Looking over her shoulder she smiles as she sees Jules and the loudmouth agent are among the agents now aiming their weapons at her. “Carmen Sandiego, surrender or I will be forced to take you out,” A tall woman states in a commanding voice, and simply by her attire Carmen knows that she’s in charge. Slowly turning on her heels, Carmen raised her hands up, the metal bar being loosely held in her hand. “Drop the weapon.”

The second Carmen sees Shadowsan, she can tell that he’s able to anticipate her next move as he goes for his sword and yells. “Julia move!” Unlike in the past, this time she’s faster than her old mentor and gets to the agent in the blink of an eye. In a swift movement, Carmen is able to twist Julia’s arm behind her and press the metal bar to her neck.

As her now-captured agent yells in pain, everyone in the room takes a small step back. “Do as I say or say goodbye to Jules.” To ensure her threat is heard, Carmen pulls the bar down causing the agent’s skin to tear a little. A small cut, but enough to allow a few drops of blood out.

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

[elfdragon12]

in Actor AU: which couples do you think met and fell in love on set and the ones off set?

(You can use your ship list for this)

Oh good!

On set: Tracks/Raoul (instant chemistry), Brawn/Cover Girl (over the course of the series, they got closer and closer), Powerglide/Astoria (they didn't click at first, but a few really great shooting days flipped the attitude around), Skywarp/Rock n Roll (they got along surprisingly well), Ratchet/Drift (not the first time they acted together, but there was something undeniable this time), Inferno/Red Alert (they found a shared interest and couldn't stop talking to each other), Swindle/Madeline (Swindle is genuinely charming and loyal in person)

Off set: Jazz/Prowl (known each other years, but only started dating after the show), Seaspray/Alana (college sweethearts), Ironhide/Chromia (met at a mutual friend's get-together and fell through that contact), Cerebros/Fort Max (met when Cerebros was looking into pet adoption and Max does charity shelter work), Thundercracker/Marissa (met on a previous set), Afterburner/Lightspeed (childhood sweethearts), Tailgate/Cyclonus (slowburn after the show), Bumblebee/Charlie (started dating before casting started, Bee suggested she audition), Knockout/Breakdown (they have always been together), Optimus/Megatron (old friends to lovers pre-show)