#is it a fix it if i just cause more pain

[pineapple-frenzy]

Book 2 au: sparring sessions and short hair katara

They like to have sparring sessions in order to keep their bending skills sharp. They allow themselves to go all out and not hold back at all cause they know if anyone got hurt, Katara could just heal them

But anyways, wouldn't it be kinda funny if Zuko accidentally burned Katara's hair tho? Aofkqldkkajfjd

The "I think we can save the hairloops" line is from @linnoya-writes thank you for that!! :>>

[flowercrowngods]

making a real post for @rvspecter pls bear with me

anyway harvey hurt fic where after mike is busted and given a second chance at life (or a third, really) and pearson specter litt seizes the chance to instate a pro bono department mike is heading because he wants to get it right this time and harvey will do just about anything to keep him, these two men finally mention this Thing between them and decide to give it a try. and it’s good. it’s fragile and it’s tentative and it’s gentle and it’s the same as it’s always been but with more tenderness, more honesty, more vulnerability (and more sex of course) and it’s good. against all odds, it’s so good.

but then one day, long after hours, donna approaches harvey in his office and her eyes are shining, but it’s not a glow harvey is used to — he never wants to get used to donna’s eyes filled with tears so he asks her what’s wrong, but he’s not ready for the answer. because she tells him she can’t work for him anymore. she tells him she’s leaving him — to work for louis at first, maybe to quit altogether. the fact do the matter is she can’t be the Donna to his Harvey anymore because she’s in love with him and she thought she had it under control but she doesn’t, okay, she doesn’t and it hurts and she wants to be happy for him and mike because they’re so good but all this time she’d never thought that harvey would ever find someone real, and now that he has, well. she can’t pretend anymore that it doesn’t tear her up inside and she doesn’t want to put that on any of them so she’s doing the mature thing and leaving. to heal. to get over him. to come back stronger.

and she’s so, so sorry.

they listen to gordon one last time, they toast to thirteen years one last time — her words, not his, but they drive a knife into his heart nonetheless because harvey doesn’t do one last-anything and yet here sits his best friend and asks for one last night together and who is he but to give her everything she wants and more. she’s his donna — still, tonight; one last night. she is.

he doesn’t tell mike that night. couldn’t, even if he wanted to; because he doesn’t have the words. but in the secure hold of mike’s arms, he says “donna won’t be working for me anymore, starting tomorrow.” and he doesn’t mention how that means that donna went to jessica and louis first, he doesn’t mention that he was the last to know, he doesn’t explain how he wasn’t given a chance to fix this — not this time. “donna quit?” mike asks, and harvey swallows, shakes his head, shrugs. “just me,” he says. “just me.” and when mike pulls him closer and holds him tighter and tells him “i’m so sorry, harvey,” it’s the first i’m sorry that night that he believes.

unfortunately, sorry never fixed anything.

especially when soon after, mike finds out just why donna left. and he gets all up in his head about it, he allows himself to spiral because he’s so ready to succumb to tunnel vision and obsessing over solutions to problems that aren’t his to fix. and so he tells harvey that he can’t be the thing that comes between him and donna. they’re soulmates after all, mike can’t bear to be the one to sever their bond. harvey doesn’t understand. he’s the one who’s supposed to lose his mind over having lost his best friend and pretend like everything is okay, what right does mike have to make that about himself, to take it upon himself to fix everything when harvey’s the fixer, harvey is the one who solves problems and protects people. but mike won’t hear any of that and tells harvey that he can’t do it like this if it means hurting donna because she’s his best friend, too, and he wants to get it right this time. he doesn’t want to build this new life on decisions that hurt his people — not again. he’s hurt enough people, he can’t keep doing it.

harvey wants to ask him why he’s always so ready to protect everyone at his expense. isn’t this thing between them, their relationship, isn’t it meant to stop them from hurting each other? why is it okay to hurt harvey, but not to hurt donna?

he doesn’t ask any of that, only tells him that they’re not in high school, and that they’re either doing this or not, but he refuses to base their relationship on whether or not his best friend is okay with seeing him happy or not. “you’re either in this with me, mike, or you’re out. that hasn’t changed, and it won’t, because donna will get over it and everything will be back to normal before you know it.”

“you don’t know that.”

“yes i do, because we’re grown-ups and we get over things.”

famous last words, it turns out, because mike just slowly shakes his head, agonising over this and not thinking, clearly not thinking when he says, “i’m sorry, harvey. i can’t to this; not like this.”

and all he can do is watch mike’s back as he all but runs from him, dragging his heart behind him, through the dirt, uncaring as bits and pieces of it chip off with every step mike takes, with every second that passes and allows the words i can’t and i’m sorry, harvey echo in the hollow of his chest.

we’re grown-ups. we get over things. well, tough fucking luck.

and this is how harvey loses the two most important people in his life in the matter of a week. before he knows it, he’s alone, left to fend for himself and hollowed out. his walls are broken down, deconstructed piece by piece by carefully, gentle hands to reveal what’s underneath — only for the hands to retreat, letting in the icy cold and accepting what’s inside to wither and die.

there’s a reason harvey specter makes his own luck; the universe isn’t very forthcoming otherwise. a fact that is proven when he finds a stranger outside his building when all he wants is to curl up and breathe through the cracks of his broken hearts that have pierced his lungs, they must have, surely they must have, because he can’t breathe. and he doesn’t learn how to breathe again when the woman — a kid, really, merely twenty-five — reveals that she’s his half sister. because it turns out the reason lily specter was so ready to up and leave all those years ago; the reason she didn’t fight for her family and instead blamed it all on harvey, was because she was pregnant. and she lied about it — for twenty-six years.

amelia selene specter is the little sister harvey has always wished for — but cancer is a curse that rests on the specter family, and while marcus got lucky twice, selene isn’t. she didn’t have the money for medical resources, and it’s eating harvey alive that he didn’t know, that there was no way for him to help her and that there’s no way now.

but there is. because selene has two kids, seven and four, and she needs his help because they can’t get lost in the system, they can’t live with total strangers or be separated because the system doesn’t actually care about children, they only care about not feeling guilty. and she won’t ask lily. these two angels must be kept from her at all costs because she ruined two families already, she won’t ruin this one.

and harvey is obsessed with the thought of more family, he needs to take care of and be there for someone and he’s ready to take on the world to protect his niece and nephew — but he’s not warm, he’s not available, he’s not even at home most of the time, nor is his place suitable for kids.

he agrees to take them in and find a solution though. he promises selene that he’ll be there for them. he’ll always be there. and when he gets to meet them — a few days before his sister dies way too young, way too alive for something like death to not rip him apart entirely — he gets attached instantly and vows to himself and to selene that nothing will happen to them as long as he’s there.

even though harvey just lost his family — the one he chose, the one he was born into, and the one he never got to meet. even though harvey’s entire world was deconstructed with no one around to put it back together. even though he doesn’t know how, because evidently he got it wrong every single time, harvey gets to build a new family with these kids. and though it tears him up inside, it heals something inside him too — and sometimes they balance each other out, and he can breathe again for just a little while as he reads to charlotte because she’s feisty and afraid of nightmares and not listening when he says she’ll be tired in the morning because “i’m tired in the morning anyway, but now i wanna read” and he trades her going to bed for a bedtime story, and she falls asleep with her face pressed into his side.

it’s so frail, though, so fragile, this little family, and he knows what it’s like when everything breaks. he knows what it’s like to lose one’s family — over and over and over again. and he’s terrified that he’s building himself back up the wrong way. he’s terrified because there’s no one keeping him together but both his hands are occupied holding these children that cry for their mama.

he’s terrified because he’s not supposed to be doing this alone. but everyone else has made their choice and he, as always, is just there to bear the consequences and try to turn it into a win.

one day, he will. he has to. and one day, he’s not alone anymore.

[nibbelraz]

i imagine og!sqh's reasons for not smashing in mobeis head with a brick was smth he thought was sooo smart. yes he could kill the demon here, BUT he was hurt by other cultivators and the thing currently killing him would make him look like a weakass kill stealer, even if he took it out. HOWEVER if he manipulates this man (nobility? they still have concepts of honour in the demon realm) via a life debt then he can get better connetions and rare objects in order to further his own career! obv theres gonna be a little simpering to appease the guy but hey! thems the breaks! then after the sect gets salt earthed mobei is like hey. you didnt die there. that means my debt is repaid btw. you know what that means you slimy little rodent. your mf life ends a week from now in honour of the week you spent healing me. get your affairs in order quickly. bonus scene stealing lines from the princess bride; "I gave you everything! Your power, your crown, your position, your respect! Your riches! Your knowledge! And I'll give you anything else, so long as you let me live!" "Anything?" "Yes, anything! Anything you want!" "I wanted your loyalty you son of a bitch."

HEICJEJCJDJJVF YES YESYETS I LOVE thinking about how OG! Shang Qinghua might've navigated the world and I'm crying at the fact Mobei just like

"You didn't die. That's it. I'm coming to fucking get you."

Especially knowing that OG! Shang Qinghua was just using him even if he built him up from the ground

[rawrsatthetree]

Dream job? I do not dream of labor. I dream of being a powerful vampires most beloved spawn and spending my days being pampered and doted on like a prized pet or even a doll.

[femstyles]

X

[sabrirene]

i fear the 'surely someone's gonna save me' in sunshine baby has an incredible chokehold on me

[sleepyjim2]

incomprehensible yap in the tags tldr im just not doing well i guess

[ourceliumnetwork]

dry swallowing pills is my stupidest flex. i'm not even showing off anymore i'm just impatient

[regardingjenmish]

.

[pagesofkenna]

Just said "sheesh, Kenna, you're the smartest person I know" out loud while reading your tags on the FMA Truth and Ed's atheism post. Then I realized that Indiana probably doesn't care as much for this information as you might lolol

honestly i'd originally written a really annoying ramble about gods in fiction under that post and now i'm so glad i deleted it to write that much more succinct breakdown of my thoughts on the matter

[gotyouanyway]

just remembered i'm like kinda disabled forever

[coridallasmultipass]

It took me, ugh, MONTHS (2), to get to cleaning the two shrimp tanks I have... I had IRL issues going on that would have made it extremely difficult to do a water change especially while injured, and I just had to keep putting it off. It's just shrimp, so it wasn't like, the worst situation, especially since I have established plants and the tanks are a couple years old. There was just a lot of algae build-up on the glass, and, well... Let me just say it was not contributing to my mental health and well-being while the tanks were in that state.

I tested the water before I started cleaning and the parameters were fine (like, I could have left the tanks even longer if I would be okay with selling my soul to the Algae Collective), and the plants and shrimp look fine, too (I mean, I've obviously been keeping an eye on the tanks bc I sit right next to them). Actually, I'd wager to say that the plants are looking really great (the lilies haven't died off [yet? This is the longest period of time I've seen them stay... foliage... fol... foliated? Idk.] and the cryptocoryne in the 10gal is fucking huge and needs to be rearranged, just not right now). That fucking algae was a motherfucker to get off the 10gal (it's a plastic tank and I think that makes the algae grip harder than the glass 5gal).

[Also, fyi, depending on the tank's needs and stability, recommended water changes are a small one every week or every other week. My parameters don't seem to do anything dramatic, so I usually aim for a 20-30% water change every third week (just depends on how much vacuuming needs to be done and how cooperative the shrimp are with moving aside). So 2 months is still a lot. I still did the normal 30% ish amount, since doing more will risk the shrimp's well-being if there's a sudden change in everything, and my water parameters indicated a change was unnecessary - but I don't test for more than the minimum freshwater tests, so there could be a buildup of some mineral I'm not testing for, which is why the change IS actually necessary regardless of what my test kit says - because these tanks were evaporating a lot in summer, it condenses the minerals added with each water addition, even tho I usually top up with R.O. water.]

My back is fucking killing me lol. It has been killing me since spring when it 'went out' for the first time, and I'm not getting any relief, it sucks. But this had to be done.

The 5gal is looking pretty cloudy still, since the filter was super gunked up and I accidentally spilled gunk back in, so I may need to retest the 5gal parameters tomorrow just to make sure I don't have to do another water change, but it'll probably be fine, right? Shrimp love mulm and detritus. I did give both tanks a big ole algae tab for their trouble, tho. (I need a fuckening dish for the big tank. I really wanna clean off that white quartz rock again, but being white means it's an algae magnet, and it's just gonna go green again after a month or two.)

Anyway, shrimp tax:

I lov thees widdle oange bebies.

Wish I could take better pictures rn, but I am. Like. Dying. My recommendation: never live in an A-frame style room if you have the option. The wall above my tanks is slanted, and NOT fun for my back to bend underneath the wall for maintenance. (My only flat wall in the room is for my TV/PC.) Also, treat your back nicely, in general. I unfortunately have not had the option to treat my back nicely since spring (fall now), because 'when it rains it pours,' and heavy shit that needs to be moved will not move itself. Once I get a few more things in my room in order, I will hopefully be done with the IRL chaos, bc I have Halloween socks to knit, and I'm not putting that off for another year. (I'm still mad that I couldn't make the ones I planned last year. And I found more Halloween yarn I forgot I bought, so I'm gonna try to make multiple socks.) And I just really need to fucking chill and knit and stop having panic attacks and meltdowns.

[kangaracha]

hello i love you how are you and your broken pelvis doing?

hope that you heal quickly 💕

hello thankyou, i wouldn't say we're best friends but we are back on speaking terms. come to a truce. we're discussing terms and conditions.

[ivycorp]

Riot's TFP AU: Megatron as a patient, or how Soundwave tries to not go insane with his leader's unfortunate addiction to a certain Prime

From the moment Megatron left his quarters knowing that Soundwave was really cross with him, he knew there would be more consequences than just the communication blackout. Walking to the bridge he was barred from entering by the TIC, who simply pointed him in the direction of the medbay.

There were battles to be picked in one's life - and usually the warlord picked them all - but this time the guilt from disappointing his most loyal friend (beyond acceptable parameters) could not be stopped. It flooded his circuitry, making him flinch away and nod; he turned away from the door and followed the path to Knock Out's domain. Soundwave followed him like a shadow, most likely to ensure he reached the medic and stayed there for whatever reason he deemed necessary.

Megatron doubted he would like the outcome, but he knew that the blue mech was not actually plotting his demise - if Soundwave wanted him dead, he would already be melted down for the Cause before he stepped out of his room.

He wouldn't even blame him - TIC did not wish to lead, so it would not even be a selfish decision to climb rank. If Megatron ever became unsalvageable, Soundwave would put him down, simple as that. But before that ever happened, he would exhaust all the other options first.

Which, apparently, included getting the warlord examined. 

Knock Out turned towards the opening door, unsurprised to see their leader sulk inside, nor to see the company. He gestured towards the berth the warlord was repaired on just a day prior.

"Hop on, my Lord, I have been informed you require a full physical," the medic began, as he took a relevant datapad in his servo to take notes on.

Megatron shot a look at his TIC, and upon seeing a small motion of the helm indicating the direction of the berth, he crossed over and laid down his tired frame. When he felt a gentle tap and heard a firm but polite 'please open the mediport for me, sir', he allowed a rarely used panel to reveal the port entrance, feeling oddly vulnerable. He didn't have to worry about Knock Out doing anything dangerous in Soundwave's presence, but the multitudes of professionals had taken a look at him and either gave up at once, or did the same just after a short while - when they realized how uncooperative of a patient he was.

The silver mech didn't really mean to be so difficult - but nearly every piece of medication tasted so bad to him that he would end up throwing it up or away instead of taking it. His body was in a permanent state of screaming, and his coding had not been updated in eons. Because of this, there was a limited patience to explain to yet another doctor that:

Yes, he couldn't recharge regularly;

Yes, he was very sensitive to the bright lights, and it made his helm feel like it was splitting apart at times; 

Yes, he was aware his optics were no longer working as before.

No, he was having enough exercise;

No, he was not trying to off-line himself from lack of maintenance;

No, he would most certainly not discuss his self service schedule.

Meds, injections, operations - and, of course, therapy. The standard result. 

This only meant he would be purging his tanks for a month trying to follow any instruction and fail from the distasteful residue from the medicine - all of this causing him to lose hope of the diagnosis being correct. He would feel let down at the lack of effect, get angry, and the cycle continued. There were periodic attempts to get this addressed - until he finally went out to get Dark Energon and was under nobody's care for a couple of years.

Not that he needed somebody to take care of-

An image of smiling Optimus crossed his mind, and he scratched out that last thought.

Knock Out used his distraction to plug into the exposed port, completing handshakes with his old programming and starting the check-up procedure. He raised the datapad, frowned at it, and took a look at the warlord.

"My Lord, when was your last full frame medical check-up?" Knock Out inquired, tapping the empty log on the patient file.

Megatron muttered something quietly. 

"I didn't catch that, sir, you need to speak up, please," he asked again, a bit less patiently.

"I think it was before we left Cybertron," the mech answered without looking at the medic. He knew what to expect by then - a huff of anger, an exasperated sigh, or a combination of both.

Instead, Knock Out grew silent. 

The red bot turned towards Soundwave, clearing his intake to catch his attention. TIC flashed a questioning glyph on his visor, as the medic asked:

"Is there any upcoming operation that requires Lord Megatron's presence or particular skill set?" 

The blue mech paused, visor flashing with a flurry of images as he cycled through the upcoming plans and schedules. When the screen blanked once again, Soundwave shook his helm negative.

"Lord Megatron: not critical to operations before next rota generation," he added in a short burst of combined recordings. Knock Out nodded thoughtfully, still connected to the silver mech, and reached out to another datapad, filling it up and passing it to the TIC.

"That would be probably enough, if we don't take too many breaks," the mech said matter-of-factly, as the blue mech read up the contents of the form - before adding his own signature. 

"Splendid, that's taken care of," the red mech smiled, and added as an afterthought prompted by the newfound professional concern:

"Some of the tests will take a while, so I believe we could turn this into an opportunity to check up on the entire staff," Knock Out observed the TIC for a moment, and after receiving a tired nod, waved the mech politely away.

"Fantastic, I will send over the list for the worst offenders and for the necessary shopping - or specialists to start looking for," he added, as he already was opening up a call to his conjunx to get cracking on the personnel's files.

Megatron was slightly confused at the odd exchange, but when the form was passed back to the medic, pieces fell together. 

The rota is generated every six Earth's weeks. He could vaguely recall seeing the update warning a few days prior. The fact that the TIC signed anything the medic gave him, meant he was officially approving something.

They benched him.

As Soundwave turned to leave, Megatron blurted out a short chirp of distress, but remained in place when the visor turned to look at him one last time. 

If it had been anger, he would have understood, possibly tried to overwrite the signature with his own - but he knew his loyal friend for a long time, and this was not that. 

No, Soundwave was trying to hold onto hope. That Megatron could still be 'fixed'. The door slid shut, and the warlord felt hollow as his CPU supplied him with a number estimate of that happening. 

It was depressingly low.

"Well, My Lord, your file is currently very patchy, I will need to check everything," the medic's voice drew his attention back, as he stared at the smaller mech blankly. He tilted his helm curiously, but his silence was taken as a permission to speak more. Knock Out started explaining the details, the plan of a lengthy cycle of checks and possible treatments, when Megatron raised his servo to cut him off.

"Why do you bother telling me this?"

The implied 'it's not like I can disagree and leave' hung in the air. 

The red Con looked at him with a mix of worry and hesitation; putting the data pad he was holding on the side table, he decided to respond:

"Because you are not a subject to be studied, sir; you deserve to know what am I going to ask you about and why, especially since I would rather we worked together instead of me having to fight you on providing you medical care," said the medic, looking Megatron straight in the optics. Normally, it would make the bigger mech tense up, sensing competition - this time, he felt it was more of a look of careful wish for cordiality. 

He sometimes forgot that Knock Out was an actual medic that could do his job well. And apparently, for some inexplicable reason, decided to employ his skill fully in his case.

Megatron nodded his helm, and tried to focus on what his old-new doctor was saying. It seems he would be in for a long haul. 

*****

The check-up took a long time. As the warlord and medic were cooperating to help get a complete picture of what was out of the acceptable norm, Knock Out cursed not being able to discuss this with another professional - he was sure even Ratchet would not scoff at the multitude of issues he kept on adding to the file.

Lord Megatron was a medical disaster. 

The silver mech had been riddled with pain that became such a norm that only the strongest pain relief would have made any difference. He did admit that the Dark Energon provided a dampening effect, and the medic immediately pushed the internal fluid check to highest priority. 

Contamination from the use of the mysterious substance was spread out across the frame, lingering despite lack of external exposure at surprisingly active levels. Knock Out noted with alarm that the normal Energon digested was being tainted, most likely keeping the warlord sedated without his knowledge. 

To remove the influence of the Unmaker would be to remove the only relief - and Megatron was still in a lot of pain despite its presence. 

The red bot called for Soundwave's support when he had to share this particular piece of diagnosis, afraid of a possible lapse in the arrangement he managed to turn this situation into - worried it would cause the warlord to lash out. In an unlikely turn of events, Megatron's face blanked out, before he tersely agreed to get the flushing procedure started.

When he woke up afterwards, he stared at the ceiling of the medbay for a long time and turned to Knock Out:

"I severely underestimated just how much the Dark Energon numbed the pain," he said, gritting his denta, and the medic took the hint, excusing himself for a moment.

The low wail of pain could be heard through the walls. When it stopped, the red Con let a couple of short, measured in-vents out, before he got back. The silver mech was back to his stoic expression, but the curled servos indicated he was still struggling to get back to living with the actual amount of pain he knew he managed to suffer in silence before.

The return to the prior state of things was way harder than he expected.

Knock Out did not hold any viable alternative that could have rivaled or surpassed the effects of the substance they just purged from Megatron, but he was going to try to get one - or possibly get some of his patient's aches away. 

One of the easier identifiable issues came to when the red bot examined the warlord's optics. When the silver mech flinched away at the passing light, Knock Out nearly dropped his tool - he knew there were going to be problems connected with them, the medic himself left some notes with a string suggestion for corrective action, but it never went beyond a temporary measure in form of shaded corrective visor.

Mostly because Megatron kept on 'forgetting' to wear it. 

This time around, however, the access to mediport allowed the smaller mech to see the intense flare of pain, suggesting a helmache forming. He hummed before reaching out and deactivating the light, and ordering the other lights to dim. 

The ache receded, systems noting lower strain.

"My Liege, I know we talked about this, but you really should be wearing the shaded visor we prepared for you," Knock Out mentioned, putting the tool away on a prepared tray table. Megatron grumbled a bit, but the medic had grown to know by then that it did not mean he reached the end of his tether, but that the mech was reluctantly listening. 

The warlord not doing some sort of token protest usually meant he tuned the conversation out. Knock Out learned to sense those moments, usually waiting for the mech to get out of this particular tactic from sheer boredom.

"Do you still have the old one we made you?" asked the doctor, and seeing the shake of the silver helm, sighed. 

Another thing to make. 

"I will get one more done for you, sir, but if you don't use it, I'll have to wield the next onto your frame - your optics are set for much darker surroundings and no matter how many times I fix it, it shifts to pre-sets every time, causing you helmaches," he promised, putting a note down on the file. The medic could see Megatron was observing him, trying to gauge the seriousness of the threat; and at that point, Knock Out was very serious.

His momentary suggestion to check out the entire ship had ended up with way more work on his servos than he expected - worse yet, the mechs he was treating needed help beyond his skill. 

Soundwave was updating him daily on the procurement and negotiations, but the millennia of war effort meant there were not many who would be willing to provide help to Decepticons - unless, of course, they paid a hefty fee.

Starscream was handling the budgeting, and seeing this supplied his recommendation: they needed to call Swindle. He would be most likely to get the results despite the cut he would be taking, so they allowed the mech to search the markets for their targets. 

The shopping list grew every day. 

Swindle was ecstatic.

Knock Out additional concern was the odd disposition of their supreme commander - namely, the distaste for one of the most common additives there existed. It was nearly in all of the medications as a stabilizer, and it was very rare to have any perception of it in the Cybertronian population.

Obviously, Megatron had an extreme case of it.

At first, when the medic realized his patient was very reluctant to take the meds, he tried hiding it in refueling rations.

It was also the last attempt of this solution pathway.

Megatron was able to feel the slightest presence of it in whichever substance he consumed, making it impossible to hide. Knock Out had to go apologize to the SIC who got accused of trying to poison the warlord that day.

For some reason, however, when the medic found colored glass in a similar pattern as the meds, the warlord ended up loving them - crunching on the marbles happily. Bribing the mech into taking more medicine became slightly easier with the promise of getting more of these in return.

Luckily, this time around the oddities of the Decepticon commander's frame came in handy - the glass didn't cause any issues, instead processing them easily. Knock Out checked a few times for possible residue buildup which occurred in some mechs with foreign substances, and noted with relief no adverse effects. For all he cared, Megatron could eat as many as he wanted, if it meant he would take the medicine. 

Especially that they were still battling his insomnia… 

The silver mech's recharge logs were all over the place - with no rhyme or reason, and an alarmingly low average time of rest. 

There were, of course, exceptions - but the analysis of those, run in tandem with the known occurrences of loud music being played in particular quarters made it clear why that would be. 

Knock Out cringed inwardly; since they were trying to solve this problem too, that was not the answer they could utilize. 

*****

Solar cycles passed, and the life on Nemesis carried on. 

With the warlord confined to a rigid schedule and the SIC at the helm, everyone seemed to lose some of the tension that came with Megatron's return from space.

Dark Energon was now fully isolated in Shockwave's lab, behind three different access codes held between Starscream, Soundwave, and Knock Out - their commander was banned from approaching the substance under threat of getting Tarn as a round-the-clock minder. As the DJD's leader volunteered readily to do it, the warlord kept far away from the lab.

The peaceful time was met with enthusiasm: the Vehicons were thrilled to have time to indulge in their hobbies and getting slagged less, thus the sense of community grew. The trinkets that got collected from around the Earth started showing up in shared spaces, colors and soft lights getting incorporated into spartan decor of the Nemesis. The dimness remained, as per Knock Out's insistence, but the variety of the glittering points strewn across the halls provided enough coverage in a pleasant manner that even the officers found appealing.

As the majority of the crew had been either dragged or came in willingly for a check-up at the medbay, the morale improved; who knew that showing concern for the troops would make them feel better?

The communication blackout was still in effect, but there were exceptions added to the list, allowing the troops to be contacted on operations outside of the ship; the ongoing income streams have been re-opened too, due to the increased spending estimates.

The Nemesis has changed - but none of its inhabitants could say anything negative about it.

*****

After the first three weeks, both Soundwave and Knock Out were satisfied with Megatron's progress - to the point they found it fitting to provide positive reinforcement. 

Namely, returning the access to his private room for recharging.

Releasing the warlord from the all-cycle supervision was done on a condition that he would still show up at scheduled times so the medication could be monitored, but the privacy of own berth and trinkets was to help facilitate a gradual adjustment back to the normal daily routine. They couldn't shut him in medbay forever. 

Though it seemed Soundwave wouldn’t mind this idea, if it kept him away from Optimus.

For a while, it worked as intended - Megatron followed up on their agreement, coming on his own volition to see Knock Out before he would be escorted by Soundwave to the office, where he would be finishing up on the reports back-log. He was not yet allowed back on the bridge, but there was not so much happening with the operations schedule keeping things on the down low for at least another couple of weeks. Starscream had a good hold of matters, so he couldn’t even have an excuse to be more involved - it was annoying, but as the medication went on, he appreciated having time to deal with the most irritating of side-effects at his own pace, without multiple witnesses.

Coming back to his own quarters was odd, at first - he didn’t miss the sounds of resident medical staff getting it on, but that was mostly because he couldn’t reach the same level of completion in his own self-servicing due to his odd arrangement with Optimus; not to mention that he couldn't deny the couple their happiness when one of them was his direct physician which could (and would) leave Nemesis at the mere suggestion of this sort.

He got used to the red mech, and would rather avoid having to lose the one medic they have around - or at least the only one they had that did not look at every patient as a science experiment.

As he closed the door and started getting on the berth to rest, he sighed, feeling the buzz under his plating come to the forefront of his mind yet again. In the medbay, it was easier to avoid the temptation, but in the privacy of his room, it came back in full force. The warlord was trying to wait the desire out, already sensing that he was fighting a losing battle. He could not allow himself to overload, his mind reminded, indulging into it would only drive the frustration higher.

Megatron managed to wait it out for the entire three days.

As his systems reported increasing signs of struggle, on the fourth day he found himself stepping over the threshold and going automatically to the interior sound controls.

He didn't think consciously about what he was doing - his servos moved in a well-known pattern, familiar music filling the space, as he turned to resign himself to losing himself for a bit in another fantasy. 

A small explosion rocked the ship, stopping him from arranging himself in a preferred position on his knees. Momentarily distracted, he went to check it out, his combat systems greedily hoping for something to punch. When it turned out to be nothing major, he took off back to the room, where he was stopped by Soundwave standing by the door.

The music was still playing, only fractionally muted by the walls.

Megatron's plating tightened defensively, but when the TIC pointed him away with an air of disappointment, the silver mech sagged and obediently dragged himself to the medbay.

*****

The Decepticon leader had known payment for his relapse was due - the reinstated ban of his quarters was proof of that, but even he couldn't expect what his friend would choose as a revenge tactic.

When he heard the news of Autobots showing up to Starscream's operation, he was understandably curious, but as the fighting occurred during his scheduled medbay visit, he didn't pay it much thought.

Until the message arrived later on with two attachments. No words. Just the files.

But they came from Soundwave.

Megatron braced himself, and opened the first one.

The recording opened to his quarters, quickly led towards the storage compartment. The silver mech was mortified when a slim servo reached inside the closet and pulled the box with interfacing toys out. There was no looking around - Soundwave knew where it was and came for it directly. 

As he watched the path of the TIC lead to the incinerator in Shockwave's lab, he started to panic. 

The warlord was in denial the entire time, until he saw the box get tossed inside, opened slightly to allow the heat to reach the interior. The blue digits turned the settings lower - the container would not incinerate completely, but it would be greatly damaged nonetheless.

As the fire raged, Megatron's spark filled with anguish so visceral, he let out a noiseless cry the entire time the box burned. When its charred remains were moved into another container, his throat hurt despite him not uttering even a whimper. 

The recording ended.

He didn't want to see the other one, but he knew that if he didn't see it, Soundwave would force him to watch it the next day in the office. He resigned himself to being mortified beyond what he already felt.

Megatron was not disappointed in that regard.

It must have been the fight earlier this cycle, as they didn't get to face the Autobots in the meantime; he could see that the TIC emerged from the ground bridge carrying the same box he saw on the previous file. 

The warlord was initially alarmed that the blue mech would just give it to the Prime, but instead a fight broke out, the box forgotten.

Seeing Optimus struggling against his top lieutenants was difficult, but he could not stop feeling proud of his crew - he knew they were capable, and seeing it was always fantastic to witness. As much as he didn't want the Prime dead, he couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of Starscream and Soundwave partnering up. 

At least if they off-lined him in the end, he knew that they could take on anything. 

He was surprised to notice the newcomers to the field, recognising the frames easily from memory - nearly forgetting what this all was about.

When a sharp order to retreat came, he noticed Soundwave pointed towards something, prompting Starscream's goading towards the Prime, who was barely holding himself from overheating from exhaustion.

The box. 

The TIC stepped through the portal, but he looked back towards Optimus one more time.

Megatron knew he saw it too.

The wide blue optics filled with dread.

Optimus suspected what was inside - and if the warlord knew his lover as well as he hoped, he would have confirmed his guess. 

Prime knew their collection was gone.

The silver mech curled in on himself, his spark pulsing with sadness and humiliation.

*****

Megatron was devastated - and it showed.

The progress made with Knock Out, the changes to Nemesis, the general improvement of morale, even increasing the rate of victories - all of this didn't matter.

Their box was destroyed. There was no fixing it. 

And Optimus knew about it. They gave it to him, after all. Like a cursed gift.

The warlord felt unmoored - carried only by the routine he had complied with so far, missing at least a solar or two from his memory. He was mostly staring into nothingness, barely acknowledging anyone. 

At least Soundwave did not act like he didn't know why he behaved like this. The TIC was waiting him out, as the silver mech would not even speak to his friend, communicating in nods instead. Megatron still followed the schedule they set up for him, but the balance has shifted - the repetitiveness of his days was grating, instead of grounding. 

He felt trapped inside his frame.

Lying down on the slab in the medbay, he idly noted Knock Out's presence - he opened the medical port without prompting, and the red bot plugged in while maintaining a bit more distance than before. 

The warlord couldn't explain why it bothered him, so he kept his mouth shut; with the other monitoring his systems, it was hard to avoid confrontation.

"There was an odd spike across your multiple processes right now, my Lord - would you be able to tell me why that happened?" Knock Out asked tentatively, more carefully than he used to. Megatron didn't think he actually needed to provide an answer, but something in the medic's posture prompted him to say:

"You are acting differently."

The red mech startled at the reply, expecting another session of complete silence. He weighed his options, and sighed.

"Lord Megatron, your recent behavior led me to believe you wish to be left alone - as your physician I am unable to comply with this preference, but I will not force my presence on you more than necessary," Knock Out explained, tapping idly on the pad in hand. 

"I do wish to be left alone, but this has nothing to do with you, doctor," Megatron's words sounded perplexed, but honest. The title had been slipping into their conversations before, so the medic was pleasantly surprised it was not rescinded.

"I will take that as a vote of confidence in my skills then," Knock Out smiled, letting himself slide back into a more relaxed stance, as he pulled closer the tray with assorted meds for his patient. The frown on the warlord's faceplates did not go unnoticed, but there was little to be done there.

He needed to get the alternative medications soon, the rate at which they were going through the marbles collection was concerning.

Megatron took every pill into his servo and as fast as possible swallowed them in one go - the taste was dreadful and the quicker it went down, the less suffering would be there to experience afterwards. The worst was when something got stuck and he could not flush it down - he would rather claw his throat out at times like that then let it stay there to dissolve on its own.

The silver mech started to power down, knowing he should try to allow the new concoction from the Pit to do its job. Knock Out let out a quiet sound of relief, as the evening routine went by the easy way this time around. He bid his commander a quiet farewell and locked the door to the medbay behind.

*****

Megatron didn't realize when recharge claimed him, but an undefined time after he laid down, he found himself being shaken awake by a pair of familiar servos. 

He scoffed, unwilling to wake up, because he must still be asleep.

There was no way it was actually Optimus - he wouldn't do something as stupid as come onto Nemesis, so he must be dreaming.

The touch became more insistent, so he lazily on-lined his optics.

Red and blue filled his vision.

"Hello, love - you're finally awake, I was worried I wouldn't have a chance to talk to you," said Optimus with a smile, as he stood right by Megatron's shoulder like this situation was completely normal for them.

"What are you doing here?" Megatron hissed out, starting to get up, when a servo on his chest pushed him down. 

"No, don't get up - I need to leave soon, it took me a while to get around the lock and I'm expecting alarm to be raised pretty soon," rushed the Prime, patting the silver plating pacifyingly, placing a kiss onto the other's helm. 

Right as the warlord was about to say something, the shrill sound of intruder alert sounded out throughout the ship.

The Autobot cursed, as he fumbled around some item in his servo, before he pushed it into Megatron's hold. 

"Here, I got you something - I had some time and well… couldn't stop thinking about you, and suspected I was not the only one like that," Optimus chuckled right over his audial, so he could be heard over the sharp sounds filling the medbay. 

Megatron, who could not comprehend this surreal situation while still fighting off the effects of interrupted recharge, just nodded and curled his digits around the gift. He was rewarded with another kiss, and a thrilling purr of "thank you, darling," as Optimus stepped away, watching the door to the medbay.

The warlord sat numb, observing as lights of a ground bridge flickered in the dim room, and loud shouts were heard through the walls in the corridor. 

Prime lunged into the barely formed portal right as at least ten Vehicons, Breakdown and Starscream burst into the medbay, nearly falling over Knock Out's short frame as he keyed the entrance open. The shots they sent towards the source of light never reached the mech going through it, instead leaving scorch marks on the walls. 

"Lord Megatron, have you been injured?" Starscream inquired after it became obvious they came too late. The silver bot shook his helm negative, as he kept his field tucked in tightly. 

"Move the ship and check how he had been able to pinpoint our location," he ordered, shifting focus away from himself towards the security of the Nemesis. The seeker shot a suspicious look towards his leader, but nothing seemed out of order - and the concern raised by the mech was valid. They needed to understand how the Prime was able to get onto the ship and so far inside before the alert went out. 

They couldn't let it happen again.

Decepticon SIC nodded, offering an acknowledgement of the order back to the warlord, and waved everyone out. The seeker had to find and talk to Soundwave - the TIC would be most likely the only one who would be able to trace Optimus's path, and who could counter it.

Megatron watched them all go away, and when the doors closed with a soft whoosh, his field unwound itself, spreading around the space like an explosion.

He was filled with so many contrasting emotions, there was no way he would be able to recharge again.

Curling his digits around the small item in his servo, he pondered:

Perhaps he could spend the time on something more… pleasurable.

******************************

Another ficlet inspired by @transingthoseformers's TFP AU, a direct follow-up to this and running parallel to this - and fleshed out by these posts about Nemesis time wth Megs as a patient.

[orcelito]

Honestly sooooooo fucked up that I thought my overwhelming daily fatigue and debilitating body pain was a product of the awful working conditions I was under for years and years... and yet, despite being out of work for half a year now, I'm still so fatigued and in pain all the time??? Like come on man that's not fair

Oh well maybe I have liver disease and they'll treat it and then I am magically so much more energized like I was as a kid. We can only hope !!!!

[theoculus124]

Life isn't going too well rn-