#launch pilot scan

[sightseertrespasser]

Odds of Survival part 9

Jazz has an itty bitty teeny weeny severe mental breakdown.

Credit once more to @keferon for starting this au.

———————————————————————

Jazz never thought he’d find himself deeply empathizing with the xenomorph from Alien, but here he was.

Doing freak shit.

A lone lifeform trapped on a spaceship with no idea how their technology works, no means of escape and no way to sustain themselves. Skittering across the ceiling and one wrong move away from murdering someone on contact.

Plus, I pop out of my mecha like an actual motherfucking chest burster. So I’m sure that’ll go over GREAT.

The parallels were compounding into existential crisis territory.

It got way too fucking close handling that checkup with the medic. Trying to keep his cool felt like he was trapped in an hours long quick time event. Every question had to be snap judged for the safest possible answer. Completely make shit up and risk getting caught in the act, don’t give away any information and they’ll know you’re hiding something.

Jazz juggled that damn Catch 22 like a professional. Thank you.

Case in point, while one of his mechas arms was still non functional, Jazz managed to maneuver his actual arm inside the cabin to grope around for some water to chug. Without disconnecting from the mecha.

That particular stunt felt like splitting his brain in half with a splintery wedge. The water was absolutely necessary, but the pressure inside his skull rang like an air horn zip-tied open.

Right now the only coherent thought he could form was the overwhelming animal desire to find a dark hidden hole and crawl up inside it. Then repeat that motion by disconnecting from his mecha, finding the most secure hiding spot inside that, and passing out for oh just a quick little 24 to 36 hours.

The pilot paused. Down the hall, mechas- giant alien robots- had noticed his disappearance. Even through the language barrier, Jazz would recognize the opening lyrics to his personal theme song anywhere: “Oh fuck where’d he go?”

Hidden behind rows of pipes, Jazz counted his inhalations until the thuds of metal feet passed him by.

Was the alien invader from The Thing scared? If it had finished building its spaceship would the Thing really have tried to take over the world? Or was it just desperate to go home?

Jazz was panting. Or maybe hyperventilating. He made a conscious effort to pull air through his grit teeth at an even flow. Even though he couldn’t actively feel his human body, the dull droning dread pressed through the disconnect to whisper “You’re running out of time.”

He didn’t know how long he had left before his stupid flesh sack would start giving out, but he needed to be somewhere safe when it happened. He’d make it. He’d make it because he had to to make it. He was the best goddamn pilot in the entire program and that was for one reason and one reason alone: Failure Was Not A Motherfucking Option.

If his options were do it the hard way or not at all, then the hard way was what the world got.

Once the guards passed, Jazz slunk along the wall, reaching upside down to fry another security pad, only for the door to open automatically.

Risking it, Jazz peaked into the room and not seeing or hearing anyone, slipped inside.

Once the door slid shut behind him, Jazz lowered himself to the ground one handed, scanning the room more thoroughly.

More screens, inactive. A chair and a couch. Miscellaneous wall kibbling, a table, cabinets. Windows.

Jazz gasped.

Glowing clouds of light, layered like sheets stretching into infinity. Star clusters like paint splatters on black velvet.

White and amber. A haze of something pink.

Unconsciously, Jazz moved towards the window, until he could lightly tap his visor against the glass. His field of view consumed by galaxies.

Back when they first launched him into space, Jazz had come to terms with the let down that all he’d get to see was a black slate and maybe a couple dots. The space station didn’t have many windows to start with, and all his space walks took place when the sun was “out”, so Jazz never really got to see as much of the Milky Way as his inner child hoped.

Now, the child was quiet. Face pressed against the glass, Jazz felt his throat closing up.

At least I got this. Even if I’ve got a half life, I got to see the stars the way they were meant to be.

He hovered. Wanting to find a song to match this moment, but couldn’t find anything more fitting than his own breathing. The rush of blood in his ears was still loud, but a white noise that could substitute for silence.

Like a marble rolling off a table, Jazz felt his stomach drop a moment before his conscious mind could follow.

“It’s wonderful isn’t it?”

Jazz had his arm cocked back to turn the poor fuckers face into a plate but locked himself mid swing at the last second. The mech had lifted a tablet to protect himself, and the move was such a Bullied Nerd cliche it stopped Jazz cold.

Now that his heart rate was breaking highway speed limits again, the angry radio static that was his racing thoughts drowned out any coherent thoughts of what to say.

The mech peeked out from behind the tablet and wow. That’s a guy. That’s just a straight up dude. Prowl and Elita were bulky enough that Jazz could at least imagine where a pilot could sit. But this guy? He looked like the only thing he could throw out was his back. Jazz didn’t even know “elderly twink” was a look possible for a giant robot.

Mystery Codger was staring at him. Jazz still had a fist raised.

Do something say something do something say something you fucked up you fucked up either kill him or start lying just do anything brain please.

“Could you help me find my glasses?”

Jazz faltered. “Wu- What?”

The mech uncurled from his brief defensive huddle. “My glasses? Spectacles? Ah, object-sight-improve-positive?”

The pistons in his arm faintly hissed as the tension released.

Maybe-

As if this was all normal, the mech gently set the tablet on the table, before squatting and squinting at the floor.

Maybe I just have actual brain damage.

Acting on mental autopilot, Jazz took the opening to behave like a normal person. Crouching and scanning the floor for giant alien robot spectacles.

“My name is Rung by the way. I actually don’t think we’ve met previously.” Rung said that last bit with an odd inflection Jazz didn’t have the brain power to think about.

“Jazz. We definitely haven’t met.” He couldn’t quite keep the exhaustion from making that last bit come out snippy.

Rung simply hummed and continued his search. For his part, Jazz was taking the moment to center himself, preparing the best mask he could on short notice.

How long could he keep faking it? Prowl had been with him since he woke up and he didn’t show any signs of needing to sleep. They had doctors. Prowl cared enough about his “health” to take him to one. If Jazz collapsed in front of anyone, they’d drag his sorry ass back to the medbay and it’d be game over. He couldn’t just ask for a place to crash or else he ran the risk of tipping them off he wasn’t one of them if they really didn’t sleep.

A faint tapping sound made him twitch in his stupor.

“Now where could the blasted thing have gone.” Rung was sat crossed legged on the ground.

With Jazz. Who’d vaguely crumbled into a kneeling ball under a table.

Jazz stared at Rung tapping his glasses against his chin. The orange mech made eye contact, and Jazz swore to god he caught him smile.

He reached out a hand, pointing, “Found ‘em.”

The smile came to fruition. Rung aha-ed and held his glasses before himself, inspecting them fondly.

“All that trouble for such a small problem. And all I needed was to ask for help.”

Jazz let himself sag slightly against the wall. Dully thudding the back of his head. “Okay. I’ll cop that was a good trick.”

“It did pull you out of your spiral didn’t it?” Rung said sounding way too smug. He pulled a cloth out from where-ever-the-fuck and cleaned his glasses with it.

He’d been seeing these mechs pull out and disappear objects all day like a bunch of Looney Toons characters. That kind of lapse in logic didn’t bode well for Jazz’s mental condition.

He let his eyes close, rationing his remaining focus.

“How’d you know that’d work?” He mumbled.

“You seemed afraid. You stalled out when you saw I was afraid.” Rung simply stated before he then asked rhetorically, “You’re a protector aren’t you?”

Jazz made a noncommittal sound. Lying was his first impulse, but he really didn’t feel like giving this guy more material to hook him with.

The mech laughed once anyways, “You are. Unorthodox too. I can see why you have such a hold over Prowl.”

That got his attention, “I do?”

“Oh yes.” He heard Rung shift into a more comfortable position on the floor. “Even if he can’t recognize the feeling anymore, I think you give him hope.”

Jazz wanted to laugh and he would if he had the energy.

Instead Jazz sighed. “I’m kinda at rock bottom right now man. And currently? Lil bit fresh outta hope myself.”

And ideas.

Jazz was of the opinion that any problem was solvable if you were willing to get crazy enough, but this was like trying to solve treading water a million miles from shore with only sharks for company. He either drown slowly or get torn apart the moment the sharks realized he was there.

“Hopeless mechs don’t stop to stare at the stars in wonder, Jazz.” When he opened his eyes, Jazz saw Rung staring him down like he was insulted. “To be hopeless is to let yourself die. Do you intend to die today?”

“No.” He challenged back, body minutely tensing.

“Are you willing to do absolutely anything to keep living?” Rung poked him in the chest.

“Yes.” He responded just as quickly, but there was a rasp to his voice. Something small and quiet. Not easily caught. Not easily killed.

“Even ask for help?” Rung quirked his head at him, shit eating grin growing by the second.

Jazz deflated, groaning loud enough for his mecha’s speakers to vibrate his bones.

“Look, I appreciate the therapy session doc, but asking for help is legitimately not an option for me right now.”

Rung leaned forward, resting his chin on a servo, “Alright then. List your current alternative options that you alone can accomplish, devoid of any assistance whatsoever.”

Jazz didn’t respond.

The silence continued to linger.

“Go on.” Rung gestured.

Cornered, Jazz could feel his horns pin back and a burning sensation in his eyes. He rubbed a hand over his visor even though it didn’t actually help.

“Where’s Prowl?”

Rung chuckled, victorious. The scrawny orange mech scooted out from under the table and stood, offering a servo to Jazz to do the same.

The brief rest left Jazz jelly limbed, which was evidently bad enough to translate to a faint tremble in his mecha. Despite that, Jazz didn’t take Rungs hand because there’s no way in hell that guy could support him if he fell. Elita’s threat over harming her crew was still fresh and shiny in his mind.

“You’ll find his office down that way.” Rung pointed out the direction. “Down the hall, turn left at the first junction, pass by two more doors, turn right at that junction and then keep walking until you reach the end of the hall. His office isn’t labeled but I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”

Rung opened the door and then took a seat in the chair next to the couch. “I’d offer to have Prowl come to meet you here, but I have another appointment coming up shortly.”

Oh uh. He actually is a therapist.

Jazz laughed humorlessly, “Why not invite them to join the party? Make it a group session.”

Avoiding eye contact, Rung fiddled with a stylus, “Ah, that would not do I’m afraid. My next patient recently figured out how to “bite” people by quickly jabbing his helm forward and I’d rather that not be your first encounter with him.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Jazz simply nodded numbly.

He paused at the doorway, running the directions through his head again, before turning back slightly. “Hey Rung? Thanks.”

“It’s Rung, and you’re… welcome?” The mech trailed off, looking at Jazz with surprise as the door slid shut behind him.

Walking away, Jazz got about thirty feet before realizing he couldn’t turn his head too quickly or else he’d start seeing double. Feeling the countdown drop into double digits, Jazz hurried along Rungs path.

And nearly crashed into another mech.

It had a head like an old school security camera, a single yellow camera lense cycling down to a pinprick at his appearance. The chassis was crazy long and pointed. Out of habit, Jazz tried mapping out what the interior would look like. The pilot seat would need to be horizontal but it was pretty doable. The limbs were definitely on the skinny side but sharp and fast looking. Bonus points for what was definitely front mounted guns.

All in all, solid design. 7/10.

“Hey.” The mech rasped.

Oh fuck right, Alien.

“Sup.” Jazz replied eloquently.

The camera lense eye loosed, upgrading to a coin sized pupil and clearly looking him over.

“Empurata?” The mech said casually pointing to his legs and visor.

“Uh, sure.” Jazz shrugged.

“Same.” Nodded camera-head.

“Cool.”

The two of them awkwardly stood in the hall. Camera-head seemed content to block traffic and Jazz was mentally banging rocks together in hopes of getting a spark of intelligent thought.

“Can I peel off your visor with a knife?”

The mech held a dagger pinched between its crab claws and Jazz had to bite his tongue not to ask why it didn’t just use those.

Instead, the brain rocks came through.

“Rung lost his glasses.” Jazz threw up a thumb, gesturing over his shoulder. “Needs help. Now.”

Good job brain rocks.

“What? He does?” The mechs head popped up like some kind of fucked up goose, before shoving past Jazz, knocking him into the wall.

“HOLD ON DOC I’M COMING!”

The mech folded inside out into a mother fucking helicopter?! Charging down the hall in a whirlwind so strong Jazz could feel it through his mecha.

Jazz counted to five, and crawled back up into the safety of the ceiling pipes.

He blinks, and he’s staring down another hall. Left turn, two doors, right turn. . . Wait. Was that a right or left he just did? He’s upside down so everything should be reversed right?

He doesn’t remember blinking but the hall is at a different angle. New hall? Or did he just turn his head?

Jazz wants to press the heels of his palms into his eyes until everything holds still but he can’t. So he keeps moving. Keeps hiding.

And then he sees the most beautiful goddamn mech in the universe marching down the hall. Followed by half a dozen substantially less impressive mechs with guns drawn.

Stilling, Jazz remained hidden behind the pipes. Evidently alien robots had the same peripheral blindness to ceilings that human security guards did, as none of them noticed him.

Except for Prowl.

Through the gaps, Jazz watched as Prowl gave rapid fire orders to the armed soldiers behind him. Six mechs. Six guns. Three too many for Jazz to take in his current state. Prowl went silent and his wings twitched. Shivering, Jazz got the deeply uncanny sense he was being intimately observed.

The lights were ringing in a tinnitus B flat. He had the audio feed from his mecha dialed way too high but he couldn’t afford to miss any detail of what would happen next.

Whatever Prowl was said next, it must have been in his native language. Which Jazz found deeply unfair after all the work he’d put into learning Common.

The black and white mech turned to his cohort, waving them down the hall ahead of them. Prowl did not follow, wings still minutely shifting position. Once they were out of sight, Prowl turned on his heel back the way he came. Flicking a single piercing look to Jazz.

Silently. Shakily. Jazz skulked along the shadows after him.

He mental map was fucked. Every time he blinked, Jazz lost track of the most recent few seconds of his life. If Prowl wasn’t stopping every fifty feet to not-so-subtly check that Jazz was still following him, the human didn’t know where he’d end up.

Finally, Prowl reached a door at the end of a hall and entered without any delay. Jazz dropped, moving inside before the door could close again.

“Please don’t freak out.” Jazz cut him off before Prowl could set the tone of this conversation. The mech closed his mouth and after a moment’s consideration, assumed a tense but mostly neutral stance.

“I will not ‘freak out’.” Prowl looked like wanted to say more, but Jazz couldn’t afford that right now.

“Awesome! Because right now I’m freaking out and I won’t be able to keep it together if you start freaking out too.” He was pacing back and forth, not really seeing the mech beside him anymore.

“Jazz.” A servo caught his elbow, stopping him in place. “Where have you been?”

“Oh you know. Here. There. Ceiling mostly. Shockingly unrelated, but I think a talking helicopter wants to wear my face as a hat.” Jazz nodded way too enthusiastically in a manner he hoped translated into an appropriately manic “Please god help me.” grit toothed grin.

Prowl was momentarily speechless before physically shaking off the latest deluge of confusion, “That sounds like Whirl. You would not have encountered them had you stayed in the med bay like you were supposed to. Now I’m asking you again: What are you doing and why are you doing it?”

Audibly cracking, Jazz tried to answer honestly but found his voice locked up. He couldn’t, why couldn’t he..? Why was talking suddenly so fucking hard?

Meanwhile, Prowl just looked defeated. He rubbed that spot between his eyes, not yet letting him go.

“If you cannot provide a reasonable explanation for your sudden shift in behavior, I will have to assume the worst. You leave me no choice but to-“

“I’M REALLY SHORT.” Great. Fantastic. Incredible work brain. Take five.

Prowls optics flickered. Brow furrowing as he looked up at Jazz’s clearly taller mecha.

“That’s not- I mean-.” Jazz clasped his head in his hands, switching back to English. “{I- I- don’t know if this is even real.}”

Something was gripping his arms. Black and white appeared in his vision. “Jazz, please. I can’t help you if I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Common was easy to learn but right now it felt like Jazz was playing Scrabble with a bad hand.

“Prowl, where do you go when you- when you change-body-shape?” He had to stop to breath midway.

Please, please, please this is the last chance for anything to make sense.

But instead the mech slowly shook his head in disbelief, “Where do I..? Nowhere Jazz, it’s still me, I’m not ‘going’ anywhere. My alt form is not a different person.”

The mech gently pulled Jazz’s hands off his head from where he’d been stressing the damage from earlier. “I understand if you’ve never seen an alt mode before but your behavior, your questions, they’re not making any sense.”

Prowl stopped. Optics going wide as placed his servos on Jazz’s wrists. “Jazz are you Crashing?!”

“What? What is that what you call a mental breakdown? Cause yeah I’m having one of those.” He said a little too breathlessly.

“Sit-“ Prowl pulled him down to the floor. “Sit down. I’m calling for a medic.”

“No!” Desperately, Jazz grabbed onto Prowl who was helpless but to join him on the floor. The floodgates opened and Jazz couldn’t stop.

“No no no no, please god no. They’re gonna find out. I need to to tell you. I need to tell you myself. Just, please I’m begging you don’t do it. Give me a chance. Just give me a chance to explain, I don’t want to wake up on a table, please Prowler.”

For his part, Prowl was handling the situation as well as to be expected. He didn’t try to leave again but did get into a more comfortable kneeling position next to the panicking mecha.

“Alright. Alright, I won’t leave. Speak.”

Jazz tried tapping an alternating rhythm on the floor, giving himself literally anything else to focus on. He swallowed back bile and his thrashing fight or flight instincts.

“I’m not-“ Jazz grit his teeth. Telling the truth felt like trying to pop a dislocation back into place. Actually no. Jazz had done that before and it had felt infinitely less unnatural than what he was trying to do now.

Prowl was patient. Bless his heart, motor, whatever he’s got in there. Remaining silent beside him.

The pilot forced himself to take complete breaths, “l. Am not. The same. As you.” One, one two, one two, one two, Jazz counted in time.

“I noticed.” Prowl stated flatly, then softening his expression, “You hadn’t realized you were an alien until now, didn’t you?”

Jazz laughed a little too hysterically, “No, no I Fraggin’ did not. Please don’t freak out.”

“Jazz, you are hardly the first alien species I’ve ever encountered. At least you actually look like a person.”

The pilot got very, very quiet.

“Prowl, what do you think of organics.” Resolutely, Jazz stared down the floor panels, refusing to look anywhere else.

Momentarily, Prowl opened his mouth to speak and shut it again. He shifted to kneel in front of Jazz. Sharp optics darting across his frame. Lightly, Jazz could feel him trace something along his undamaged shoulder. He shivered against his will.

“Jazz.” Prowl got down to where he had to look at him. He spoke so, so softly, “Were you created by organics?”

Well, when a mommy human and a daddy human love each other very much…

“You could say that.” Jazz rasped instead.

He hadn’t even moved, but the energy in the air just went burning cold. Prowl went from soft to deathly serious so fast Jazz visibly flinched.

“Listen to me. You do not have to go back. You do not ever have to go back. I swear on everything I stand for I will not let another one of those things anywhere near you again.” Unintentionally, Prowl was crowding into his space.

Despite himself, Jazz just kept drawing himself in smaller and smaller as Prowl closed in.

“No no no no you don’t get it, that’s not what I meant. That’s not what I am!” He started quiet and steadily grew in volume.

Prowl wasn’t getting it. Instead, raising his voice to match, “No you are wrong! You have a choice now! You aren’t just your function and you aren’t just something they made to die!”

He grabbed Prowl by the shoulders, shaking him, “I DID CHOSE THIS. I KNOW I’M GONNA DIE, BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M FUCKING TALKING ABOUT.”

“Then what ARE you talking about?!” He shouted back.

“I’M ONE OF THEM.” His microphone peaked, and his voice broke.

The quiet hurt. Anything that wasn’t numb hurt. He gulped down air and couldn’t keep more than one eyelid up at a time.

Prowl ground his jaw tightly, practically steaming from reeling back a sense of calm by force, “You are not shorter than me. You are not thinking straight. And You. Are not. An organic.”

Jazz only semi involuntarily rolled his eyes.

“Fuck it.”

He disconnected, and everything hit at once.

Vision went and came back out of focus and way too close. His ears were ringing too badly to hear the sound of his mecha’s chest plates opening, though he knew that they were.

Every fiber of muscle in his body was torn and screaming, he’d throw up later if he had the strength. Jazz did not so much stand as he did lift off the pilot seat and then buckle forward. The hard shell of his pilot suit saved his knee from getting gouged by the corner of the platform he was slipping off of.

That’s fine. He’d land on the steps.

Except, his mecha had been leaning forward hadn’t it?

Like a rag doll, over the edge he went. A huge and blurry and black shape rushing to meet him.

———————————————————————

Is Jazz capable of telling the truth when it’s to save his life? No.

Will he do it out of spite just to prove someone wrong? Yes.

Also, secret props to @somerandomcockroach for showing how fun Rung is to write.

Bonus bit, Prowl finally let his EM field loose far enough for Jazz to notice! It was bad.

-SSTP

<- First Last ->

[dollfacefantasy]

Rick grimes x reader who’s a badass Walker killer but afraid of spiders and it’s funny to Rick. Do with that what you will 😁

Rick feels his heart stop when he hears your shriek from across Alexandria. Every drop of blood in his body freezes in place. His abdomen turns to stone and falls through the ground beneath his feet.

You screamed like somebody was hacking into you with a machete at this very moment. Before he knows what’s happening, he’s dashing down the road. His legs carry him back to the house on auto-pilot. He bursts through the front door so fast, it practically flies off the hinges.

He already had his gun drawn. He sweeps through the house like in the old days back when he was officer friendly. Eyes scan the halls, looking for where you might be. Then another wail from you answers that question.

“Rick!”

“I’m coming. Just hold on.”

He launches himself into the kitchen, ready to find a walker, or even worse, some person with a blade to your neck.

But he finds neither of those. Instead you leap over to him, throwing your arms around his neck and nearly scaling his body.

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s wrong?” he asks urgently, “Are you hurt or something?”

“There’s a really big spider on the counter,” you whimper against his throat.

He blinks in disbelief. You had to be joking. There was no way you’d got him so worked up like that over a spider.

But then he sees a moderately sized, hairy, eight-legged arachnid crawling across the granite and he knows you’re telling the truth.

A deep sigh seeps from his lungs. He pries your limbs off of him and heads over there. Quick as can be, he grabs a cup and places it atop the creature. He turns to you, unable to hide the annoyance in his gaze.

“A spider?” he echoes.

You scoff and sputter in defense of yourself. “A really big one.”

“Mhm,” he hums and brushes it up before tossing it out the back door. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

Your look softens, body blooming with warmth as you realize he’d been all ready to protect you from whatever danger he pictured nearby. You prance over and kiss his scruffy cheek. As irritated as he was, he still doesn’t rebuff the affection.

“I’ll make it up to you later?” you offer with a little smile.

“You better. Nearly gave me a heart attack,” he says and returns the peck to your lips. “You kill walkers every single day, but you’re telling me a spider crosses the line?”

“The mind works in mysterious ways, Rick,” you say with feigned seriousness.

“I’m sure yours does. I’ll see you tonight, baby,” he says, giving you a firm pat on the ass before taking his leave.

[crowsofdarkness]

Soldat: Chapter Four

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?

Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox

Soldat Masterlist

“Steve told me you were a pilot,” I scoffed towards Sam. 

We were sitting at a table outside of a restaurant, waiting for our target to walk out. Steve and Nat were a few blocks over, waiting for word from us when we would be moving. 

Sam laughed, “I never said pilot.”

“Is it hard to fly?” I questioned with curiosity. 

“You get the hang of it after a while. And no, I will not teach you how to fly it,” Sam said. 

I faked pouted while I crossed my arms. “You’re no fun.”

He went silent only for a moment before he spoke, all jokes aside. “I know we just met and my opinions don’t matter but we’re bound to see him again. I just want to make sure you’re one hundred percent on taking him down. Like Steve said, he killed someone you all looked up to.” 

I nodded. “Can I be honest with you?” 

When Sam nodded, I continued. “I don’t know if it was because of how dark it was on the roof but when we saw each other, he acted like he didn’t even know me.”

“How long has it been?” 

“Uh-a few years. Maybe I look different or something?” I muttered. 

Our attention snapped towards the restaurant as our target walked out, Sam immediately dialing a number on his phone. I sat in silence, placing my sunglasses over my eyes and sat back in the chair. 

Maybe that was the reason why he didn’t recognize me that night. It was dark and had been a few years since we saw each other but yet, my heart still dropped when the realization hit that he didn’t recognize me. Was I that easy to forget?

“Let’s move,” Sam said while standing up. 

“Steve, do we actually have a plan here or are we just kidnapping this guy?” I questioned from a spot in the middle of the back seat. 

We were driving along the highway, trying to make it to Shield Headquarters in time to stop the helicarriers. We had learned from Jasper Sitwell that Project Insight would be launching in less than twenty four hours and we suddenly found ourselves with a change of plans. 

Hydra’s plan for the helicarriers was to use them to eliminate millions of people who were any sort of threat to them. All thanks to Zola’s algorithm. 

“I’m thinking,” Steve said, not turning his attention towards me. 

His eyes were trained to the road ahead of us as Sam continued to drive. 

I had tried talking to Steve but he had ignored me; only saying that we would talk about this later. 

“Hydra doesn’t like leaks,” Sitwell informed us. 

“Then why don’t you try sticking a cork in it,” Sam snapped before changing lanes. 

“Insight is launching in sixteen hours,” Natasha pointed out leaning towards Steve, “We’re cutting it a little close here.” 

“I know. We’ll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarriers directly,” Steve directed to us. 

He finally looked over his shoulder to me, only briefly, and I gave him a small smile. The thought of my past with Soldat was still bothering him, I could tell by the way his jaw was clenched tight as he returned the smile. 

We'll talk later, I mouthed, promising that I would indulge more about my past to him. 

All he did was nod before looking out the front windshield again and I leaned against my seat noticing that Sitwell had an exasperated look on his face.

“Are you crazy? That is a terrible, terrible idea.” 

Suddenly, a loud thud from the top of the car sounded and I couldn’t help the small scream that left my throat as I watched Sitwell being pulled from the car window and tossed to the other side of the highway, immediately being hit by a semi. 

My eyes grew with horror as the quick flash of metal glimmered in front of me causing Natasha and I to jump towards the front of the car, her landing on Sam’s lap while I landed on Steve’s. Gunshots echoed through the small car and Steve wrapped his arms around my waist in a tight grip as he hastily put the car in park, causing the man to roll off the car. His metal fingers dragged along the pavement before coming to a stop a few feet away from us. 

“That’s him?” Steve whispered in my ear. 

My throat went dry, no words being able to come out so all I did was nod.

A car slammed into the back of ours, pushing it towards him. The Winter Soldier jumped over the hood of our car landing on top with a thud. Sam slammed on the brakes as my hand reached around for my gun and smiled in victory when I pulled it free. Aiming it to the roof of the car, I shot a few rounds. 

“Shit!” Sam screamed when the metal arm busted through the front windshield and ripped the wheel off with ease. 

It was Natasha’s turn to fire a few rounds and I looked over Steve’s shoulder as the soldier was riding on the hood of the car behind us. They slammed into us a few more times before Steve busted open the door, pulling us to safety as the car hit the median, rolling a few times and coming to a stop.

“Nat!” I bellowed as I watched her and Sam roll away from us while Steve and I were safely sitting on his shield that protected our fall. 

She gave me a small wave, indicating that they were alright, and Steve helped me to my feet and I watched his face distort in pain. 

“Are you hurt?” I asked. 

“I’m fine. You’re bleeding, though,” His fingers gently grazed over my forehead before showing me the blood that covered his hand. 

“I’ll live,” I shrugged and turned towards Sam and Nat who had caught up to us.  

We all watched as someone handed the soldier a grenade launcher and without a second thought, Steve pushed me out of the way, blocking the shot with his shield. 

“STEVE!” I screamed as I watched him fly off the bridge and straight through a bus. 

Suddenly, hundreds of bullets cascaded around us, Sam and Nat taking cover behind a van while I hid on the side of another car across the median. The bullets ricochet against the metal of cars and my body shivered when one flew past my face, my hair flowing with the wind. 

My eyes scanned my surroundings, trying to avoid any of the flying bullets, and after fighting with my consciousness, I ran out from behind the car and jumped over the median to the opposite way of traffic. Thankfully with everything going on, cars had decided to exit the freeway long before reaching us. 

Weaving my way in and out of the cars that were there, I dared to glance over my shoulder and watched in fear as he launched a grenade at the car in front of me. The heat of the fire engulfed me as the power of the blast sent me flying over the bridge, me landing somewhat safely on an abandoned car. 

“Fuck,” I groaned, feeling the wind get knocked out of me. 

I laid there for a split second as the pain slowly subsided, wondering why he still couldn’t recognize me. My heart was breaking, realizing that the memories of us might have meant nothing to him. 

“Now’s not the time to be a little bitch, Y/N.” I cursed to myself before rolling off of the car. 

I ran with a small limp, knife clenched tight in my hand, as I waved people away from the scene. 

“Get away! Get back!” I ordered. “It’s not safe!”

Seeing his shadow from the bridge above me, I came to a halt, aiming my gun towards him. I breathed as the bullet hit exactly where I wanted; his goggles. 

Not daring to stay back, I scurried over to a fallen bus as I fired a few more rounds behind me, not sure if it was a direct hit this time. I continued to run as fast as I could, hoping I would find Steve soon. 

“Fuck!” I screamed out in pain when I felt a bullet rip through my thigh, sending me plummeting to the hard ground. 

Biting back the tears, I slowly but hurriedly dragged my limp body over to the car in front of me. I leaned back against it, allowing the coldness of it to cool down my warm body. Glancing down to the wound in my leg, I let out a few large breaths before a guttural scream scratched its way out of my throat as I plunged my finger in the wound, fishing out the bullet with little to no ease. 

“Damn it, Steve. Where are you?!” I sobbed, tears brimming my eyes. 

If anyone saw me crying right now they would be appalled. Big, tough, Shield Agent, former FBI special ops, former swat member, was crying over a man? I wasn’t crying over a man, per say. I was crying at the thought that Steve was in fact right. If this truly was him, what I had known about Soldat was just a lie. 

Without warning, more rapid gunfire sounded in front of me and I watched almost in defeat as someone jumped out of the bus, my spirits lifting only a tad. 

“Steve!” I gasped slowly rising to my feet. 

He looked over his shoulder after blocking the shots with his shield and ran over towards me, immediately throwing my arm over his broad shoulders. 

“Are you alright?” He cooed. 

“For now,” I admitted. 

The bullets continued to bounce off the shield as Steve and I tried to find safety. 

“Stay close,” Steve ordered. 

Obeying, I gripped his shirt as we started making our way towards the men that were shooting at us. One of the men to my right fell to the ground, gun clattering away from him. Looking up to the overpass, I gave a small wave of thanks to Sam who had clearly been watching our backs. Steve knocked the last shooter to his feet before coming to my side again. We both looked up to Sam. 

“Go! I got this!” He yelled. 

Nodding, Steve wrapped an arm around my waist while mine snacked its way around his neck and I tried my best to hold the majority of my weight as we tried to gain our surroundings, looking for Natasha. 

“Over there!” I pointed when I saw the soldier had his gun aim at Natasha and was about to pull the trigger. 

Steve ran towards him and I watched as the two fought. Shield vs knife. My leg dragged behind me while I used the last bit of my strength to help Natasha off of the ground. 

“You’re shot,” she observed. 

“No shit,” I groaned, feeling the sudden rush of blood run down my leg. 

We both watched Steve as he tried to land punch after punch to the soldier, always coming up empty. We watched in fear as they continued to fight, Steve throwing the soldier over his shoulder, the mask rolling a few yards away. 

My body went rigid as he slowly turned around, his unmasked face meeting ours. Blood flooded in my ears while my mouth ran dry, trying to find the right words to say. 

He stood a few feet in front of me and he looked exactly the same. Those eyes that haunted my dream for months were suddenly in front of me and everything around me vanished. I wanted nothing more than to walk into his arms. 

“Soldat?” I breathed. 

“Bucky?” Steve questioned at the same time. 

I snapped my eyes over to him, my heart getting caught in my throat at the mention of that name. “Bucky? As in best friend who you thought fell off a train seventy years ago, Bucky?” 

“Y/N, this is Soldat?” Steve croaked, realizing that the man who had saved my life years ago was his best friend. 

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Soldat questioned Steve before his gaze softened on me. “How do you know me?” 

“You don’t remember me?” I blinked, surprised. “Russia. 2009. Zola.” 

Soldat’s eyes bounced back and forth between Steve and I. 

“Y/N,” he whispered, “I know that name.” 

I nodded, hoping he would remember, however, The Winter Soldier returned as fast as he had disappeared and raised his gun to shoot but Sam came flying in, literally, and knocked Bucky a few feet away from me. 

He quickly stood and stared at Steve, something unreadable coming across his features. He lifted the gun again but was stopped when Nat got a hold of the grenade launcher, sending one off in our direction. 

We all jumped out of the way in different directions, me rolling far away from Steve. 

“Y/N, watch out!” 

Hearing Steve’s voice, I looked behind me, my scream being muffled by a pair of leather gloves while my body was being dragged away from my friends. My wounded leg dragged along the ground as I tried to kick my captor with my good leg. 

My efforts were useless as my body was spun around, eyes locked with one of the gunmen working with Soldat. 

“Get in the van. Now.” 

I continued to fight against him. “Let me go!”

“He wants you,” the gunmen struggled against my punches and kicks. 

My fighting seized when I felt a blow to the back of my head causing my body to go limp against his chest.  

[azzie-beastbinder]

Eishi, wearing it's favorite plugsuit and a pair of pants a slighly too small jacket stepped off It's transport onto the floor of lake Kamitaki docks, waving goodbye to sir Katsumasas private driver as the moonfolk flew away. A quick check of the high tech wristband confirmed that Protocol was ready to launch itself towards Eishis position in an emergency. The moofolk turned towards the docks, looking for Yuriko Okino, the prettiest person on the entirety of Kamigawa and the one who is supposed to take care of Eishi today, as Koda is supposedly busy. A quick scan of the place allowed it to pinpoint the the secret Reckoner in the crowd. "Hey, Yuriko! Here!" Shouted the pilot, approaching the woman with a wave.

( @eishithepilot )

Yuriko finished signing something for a young fan and waved as they left with their parents, then turned to Eishi and smiled. It was one of the prettiest smiles that Eishi had ever seen. "Eishi, it's delightful to finally meet you in person," she said, gently taking Eishi's hand. She offered a conspiratorial wink. "Koda's been talking about you non-stop since you mentioned coming to Towashi."

Yuriko paused for a moment, then assessed Eishi's outfit. "Perhaps getting you some new clothes to wear here might be the first thing we do, I know a wonderful tailor nearby who helps with my professional appearances. Shall we?"

[emakataken]

Part 5.A

Idea: After a chance meeting at a firefighter bar, Tommy Kinard a guarded Air Ops pilot and Buck a restless academy recruit, fall into something neither of them saw coming.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

A month from graduation, and the rhythm they’ve built is quiet but solid.

Tuesday or Monday nights mean the gym, sweat-slick, competitive, with Tommy’s smirk never far when Buck throws a clean jab. Thursday trivia is ritual now, Sal tossing the sheet toward him before he even sits, already penciling in Buck: History Channel. Saturdays shift depending on the week. Sometimes it’s movie nights with the family, sometimes just the two of them in Tommy’s kitchen, making boxed mac and cheese like it deserves a Michelin star.

A week ago, they slow-danced to Otis Redding in the middle of the afternoon while Tommy’s clothes spun in the dryer. Neither of them said a word about it. But Buck hasn’t stopped thinking about the way Tommy’s hand settled low on his back like it belonged there.

Tommy’s making an effort. Buck sees it in the way his texts come faster now, the way he reaches first most of the time, in the way their shoulder brushes, a palm at the small of Buck’s back when crowds press in. He finds small things that weren’t there before: Buck’s favorite brands in the pantry, his Gatorade in the fridge, a phone charger coiled neatly on the left side of the bed.

It’s not a declaration. But it’s something.

And Buck, Buck is steady. Thriving, maybe. Laughing more, eating better, carrying himself like someone who sees a future again. Sometimes the way he launches into things makes Sal laugh or roll his eyes while calling him a mook.

But he’s not just taking. Every time Tommy pulls a 48-hour shift, he wakes to a thermos of his favorite coffee waiting on the counter. The post-it note taped to the lid always has some ridiculous or dare he say it almost sweet note: Don’t crash, I like your face, or Coffee first, then heroics,or Come back safe. That’s not a request.

Buck never mentions them, just grins when Tommy texts, usually sometime past the twenty-six-hour mark to say the caffeine saved his ass.

He doesn’t flinch when Tommy circles the block twice before pulling into the driveway, doesn’t question the double-check of the locks or the way Tommy pauses to scan the windows. Buck never says a word. Just sits quietly in the truck, engine low, letting the silence stretch until Tommy’s shoulders loosen.

Buck knows what that feels like. He doesn’t have a name for it. But he understands, he his own rituals. Like the way he always picks the seat facing the door. The way he knows, without looking, exactly how many exits any room has. How he moves himself between Tommy and whatever threat his mind half-imagines.

He’s usually the more wired of the two, the one with tension tucked into his spine, danger stitched under his scars. But on nights when Tommy’s the one chasing ghosts, Buck gives him time, space and understanding.

He’s careful in public and let’s Tommy set the pace. There’s no hand-holding in crowds, no pressure when someone from the department shows up at the same bar. But his presence is steady, always in Tommy’s periphery.

They don’t call them dates. Not out loud.

But Friday starts with a hike before sunrise, Buck showing up with two coffees and a grin that says he didn’t sleep much but he doesn’t care. Tommy’s waiting at the trailhead, windbreaker unzipped, biting into a granola bar.

The sun crawls over the ridge by the time they reach the lookout. Buck leans on the railing, breath steady, cheeks flushed. Tommy stands beside him, arms crossed, watching the sky stretch pink and gold.

“You always hike in silence?” Buck asks.

Tommy shrugs. “Sometimes it’s just about the climb.”

Buck hums, a little smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. “That supposed to be deep?”

Tommy elbows him. “It was until you opened your mouth.”

They share a protein bar on the way down, bumping shoulders as Buck launches into a ramble about his latest hyperfixation: alternate realities.

“I’m just saying,” he insists, waving half the wrapper for emphasis, “if there are infinite versions of us out there, one of them definitely kissed you on that lookout.”

Tommy snorts, unimpressed. “Only one?”

Buck smiles, biting off a chunk of the bar. “Okay, fine. At least three. Maybe four.”

Tommy side-eyes him. “This is where I remind you that version of me probably still thinks you talk too much?”

“But he listens,” Buck says, chewing slowly like it’s an important point.

Tommy grunts in agreement, but the way his mouth twitches when Buck veers into another version of them shows he’s paying more attention than he lets on.

“There’s a version of me,” Buck continues, quieter now, “who never joined the Navy. Never met you in that bar. Maybe we don’t cross paths until I’m in my thirties. My firehouse gets a call for air rescue support. And you’re the guy in the bird.”

Tommy’s chest tightens. He’s heard Buck spin a hundred hypotheticals before, but this one lands differently, like Buck isn’t joking, like he’s testing the idea that they’d still find each other, no matter what.

“You don’t know me yet, but you clock me, It’s in the way I look at you like I already trust you with my life.” Buck says, and Tommy’s pulse is in his throat. Because yeah, he would. In any universe, he’d notice Evan Buckley like a flare in the dark.

“And you’re much the same,” Buck goes on, a little softer, “just older. More settled in your skin. You’ve got that calm, unbothered thing going on. Like nothing rattles you. You’re so fucking cool and confident, all I can think is, ‘Wow. I like this guy.’”

He laughs, breathless and self-deprecating. “You’d make my brain short-circuit. I forget half my training just trying to remember my own name.”

Tommy huffs out a short laugh. “That version of me sounds cocky as hell.”

Buck shrugs. “You’re worse. You do this thing where you hover just a second too long after I’m clear of the LZ. Like you’re not ready to let me go yet. Like maybe you felt it too.”

Tommy doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just walks in step with him, eyes on the trail. He can’t stop the words. “What happens next?”

Buck shrugs. “Maybe nothing. Or maybe I find an excuse to see you again.” He glances sideways and corrects himself. “I’d definitely find an excuse.”

Later that afternoon, they hit the gym. They’ve done this dance weekly for months now, but today feels different. The air between them crackles, thick with sweat and desire. Buck feints left, then lands a solid hit to Tommy’s ribs, grinning when he hears the punched-out oof of breath.

“Getting slow, old man,” Buck taunts, dancing back.

Tommy’s blue eyes darken. “Keep talking kid.”

They roll on the mats, limbs tangled, breath ragged. Buck’s muscles burn, but he’s laughing, alive with it, until Tommy flips him hard, his back hits the mat, Tommy’s weight pinning him down. A forearm braces under Buck’s chin, not enough to hurt, just enough to make his pulse spike.

“You drop your right when you get cocky,” Tommy murmurs, voice rough. His hips press down and Buck’s breath stutters.

For one reckless second, Tommy lets himself imagine it, closing the distance, kissing him full, pressing into the heat and laughter and the easy way Buck gives under him.

“Noted,” Buck manages, throat working against the pressure.

“You like losing?” Tommy asks, voice dropping, low, deliberate, like the words know where they’re going with a plan to ruin everything.

Buck huffs out a breath. “Please. I let you win.”

Tommy quirks a brow. “That so?”

“Mmhmm.” Buck arches just enough to remind him he could move. “Figured I’d throw you a bone. You get cranky when you’re not on top.”

Tommy’s gaze drops to Buck’s mouth. His hand flexes like he might grab Buck’s jaw. He nearly thinks fuck it. A groan spills out, half frustration, half want, “Jesus,” he mutters, pushing up off Buck slower than before, like peeling himself away takes effort.

Buck stays sprawled on the mat, hair damp, shirt twisted up over his stomach, scars on display. 

He doesn’t move as he tips his head back, his pulse hammering in his ears as he watches Tommy from the floor, lips quirk lazily, borderline indecent. “You say that like it’s my fault.”

Tommy throws a towel at his head. “Shut up and hydrate.”

Buck catches it one-handed, presses it to his face as he laughs, low and genuine. When he sits up, he doesn’t quite meet Tommy’s gaze. But his foot nudges Tommy. He beams when the older man doesn’t pull away.

Dinner is tacos from a truck parked off Western, tucked between a laundromat and a smoke shop that’s not legally zoned. The line snakes down the sidewalk, but Tommy knows the guy at the window and calls him Memo, earning a belly laugh as he orders without glancing at the menu.

They eat standing up, shoulders brushing, the scent of grilled meat and cilantro hangs between them as the sun starts to set. Grease slicks their fingers. Buck makes a quiet moan after his first bite, eyes fluttering closed like the al pastor healed his soul.

“Okay,” Buck says around a mouthful, pointing with the corner of his taco, “I take back every insult I’ve ever made about your taste.”

Tommy smirks. “Even about my favorite movie?”

Buck squints. “The one with, what, like twenty-four storylines?”

“Love Actually is a classic,” Tommy says, mock-offended. “It’s layered.”

“It’s chaos,” Buck counters. “And you’ve made me watch it twice.”

“Because you need culture,” Tommy deadpans. “You can’t just live off documentaries and survival shows.”

Buck shrugs. “I like things where someone narrates and there’s a high chance of wolves.”

Tommy laughs as he drizzles a creamy Avocado Verde salsa over his taco. 

“I’m catching up,” Buck says, grabbing a napkin. “Gina’s making me watch all the Marvel movies in order. I just met some guy with a glowing cube and a god complex.”

“That’s most of them.”

Buck points at him. “See? This is why I stick to nature documentaries.”

“Coming from the guy who cried during Captain America: The First Avenger.”

“I didn’t cry,” Buck says, indignant. 

Tommy snorts. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” He hands him a napkin without comment, then steps away to buy a couple drinks from Guillermo’s kid sitting outside his dad’s food truck with a cooler. 

He presses the tamarindo Jarritos into Buck’s hand like it’s nothing, like he doesn’t know exactly how much Buck loves it.

Buck grins around the rim of his Jarritos bottle, eyes bright as he wrinkles his nose and teases. “Aww, you think I’m cute?”

Tommy rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches. “Shut up, Evan.”

Part 5.B

[bobbedazzled]

POLARIS

pairing: xavier x reader word count: 1.1k content: light angst, main story au, (!!minor spoiler!!) A/N: Xavier prepares to leave on a new mission with the Hunter Association, tasked with exploring new frontiers. As he prepares for his departure, he is faced with a deep internal conflict: Return to his past or stay in your present.

“I can stay,” his grip on your hand tightens. “Just say the word, and I’ll be happy either way.”

You smile, lashes sweeping back your tears. “Go to her, Xavier.”

When the Hunter Association began new efforts to save the population, they decided Xavier should lead a new mission. You were elated for him to take the promotion. You beamed through the crowd at his ceremony, smiling proudly at your former teammate. On stage, however, he never met your eye. He never smiled or voiced any gratitude in his speeches.

After fighting through the crowd around him, eager to network with him, you pull him aside. The music fades, and the noise of the banquet hall becomes distant as you pull Xavier into a quiet corner.

“Hey…” you start softly.

“No, I’m not excited.” Before you can voice your question, he continues, “I’m conflicted.”

“About?”

“I’m not from here!” He strains. “I showed you the report; they want me to—“

“Go back the way you came?” You smile. You understand his panic. Part of you wanted him to decline the offer to pilot the association’s exploration trials. Not long ago, Xavier told you about his origin and how, technically, he’s older than Linkon itself. How he’d need a ship to return to the woman waiting for him, and the H.A. is handing him one. It’s a sloppy prototype, but it serves as a perfect base for him to build on. He didn’t expect to have a chance to go home.

You didn’t expect his fallback to be so close to his present. “Two hundred years is only a couple of generations.” You laugh to yourself, attempting to ease the tension swimming between you two. From the beginning, you told yourself not to be selfish. He’s not supposed to be here, you know that.

Xavier boards the spacecraft, directing others with heavy steps. His departure is near, and you’re losing him with each passing second. He and twelve others will set off to look for a planet with safer living conditions. Linkon’s politicians and researchers' faith in the Association is fleeting, and they are growing fond of the idea of completely jumping ship.

“In my present, very few returned from these missions. I can slip away; I already know Philos will be explored soon. I’m not needed.” You sat with him on nights he worked in the lab, secretly tinkering around the ship to have it operating the way he remembered. The crowd cheers as the announcers tease the countdown. Xavier blankly stares past the flags and confetti dancing with the evening breeze. He’s been hiding since this morning, gazing through the window as the public gathers to watch him lift off. He had been honored with the position, yet now, as the shuttle hummed behind him, his heart pulled in two directions.

“Xavier…” you call, resting a hand on his back. You feel his heart pounding through his uniform, each beat a reminder of how little time is left. He turns away from the glass, repositioning your hand to his face as he closes the gap between you two. You meet eyes, watching his blue eyes dart side to side as he scans every inch of your face, his breath quickening.

“I didn’t expect to be here,” he says quietly, almost to himself. “I didn’t expect any of this.”

Xavier’s eyes hold a desperate question, but there’s no answer to give. His eyes flicker toward the launch bay, then back to you, and for a moment, he seems lost in time, caught between worlds.

“Xavier?” You repeat. He exhales shakily, unsure of a goodbye.

“I can stay.” His eyes widen. “Tell me to stay.”

Shaking your head, holding back your urge to burst into tears, you say, “I can’t do that to you.”

“I’ll be happy either way.” His grip on your hand tightens, eyes searching yours desperately.

You swallow the lump in your throat, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall. The hum of the surrounding chatter fades as your pulse quickens. “Go to her, Xavier.”

“She is you.” He tugs you closer. “Past or present, it will always be you.” He sighs. “I just don’t know which version of you needs me.”

“Xavier,” you place your other hand on his face, cupping his cheeks. A tear escapes from the corner of your eye, paving the way for the pool that accumulated to streak the sides of your face. Your hands tremble as you look away, the strength you gathered for this moment completely crumbling at the sight of him pleading for your permission. “You can’t stay here. You’re not supposed to be here,” you murmur, but your voice cracks as you force yourself to speak the truth. “And I’m not supposed to keep you.”

“But I am here.” He bends over so your eyes reunite. “My love…” His eyes soften at the sight of you. He lowers your hands from his face. “You don’t have to be strong. You can be selfish.”

“Xavier—”

Xavier sighs, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting kiss—warm and needy, as if he’s trying to memorize the feeling before it slips away. He leans in as you break away, keeping the distance not far from his lips. The announcer outside faintly haunts the background as the audience roars a response. Xavier completely ignores the buzzing around the two of you as the voices of his crewmen and the other pilots fill the room. The others shake hands and voice goodbyes as they wait to be escorted to the launch ramp. You hear the sweethearts of the other pilots giggle and chat around you, easing the embarrassment that warms your body. Xavier brushes the tip of his nose against yours.

“Xavier,” you push back from him, “You’re already planning to leave without my aether core. I’m being selfish enough.” You break away, trying to steady yourself. “It's unfair to ask for anything more.”

Xavier steps closer, eyes pleading once more as you shake your head. “Fulfill your promise to her.” You carefully break away from him. “To me.”

A figure behind you calls him, tearing his gaze away from you. You turn as he approaches to shake the hands of a Commander. Captain Jenna follows behind to greet Xavier and wish him well. The hum of the shuttle engines is louder now, pulling you both into the present. The crowd is growing restless, and Xavier’s crew calls him over. The shuttle car waits. You take a shaky breath and offer the best smile you can muster, though your heart aches in the space between you. He looks back at you, unable to read his expression. You feel his gaze linger on you long after he disappears into the crowd. The shuttle engines hum, the sound more final than you could have imagined.

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Nine - Information Needed

Part Eight

———

Preceptor is one of the finest scientists that the Earth has to offer, next to Shockwave, both of whom work for the agency Mecha and their own corresponding governments. He was one of the first to start working on the suits, before the drift technology, said it came to him in a dream. A very odd dream but still a dream.

Most people are convinced that the man is a little insane, often spending long hours examining and re-examining the remains of the Quintessons as if trying to remember something or someone. He spends a great deal of time alone or with pilots, he himself is technically drift compatible and tests most of the technology he makes within his own much smaller suit.

Although he was deemed odd, his innovations in the mech suit field and for a number of programs are astronomical in nature. Hence why Mecha was quick to snatch him up, with a considerable salary and a promise to be able to spend more time in his own suit, he worked endlessly on tech for the pilots and they were eternally grateful.

Most of the enchanted upgrades that went into the Arcturus program came from Preceptor, he himself technically registered for Arcturus Three should it ever get off the launch pad. It had not been the boss’s idea, but if their shuttle system were to actually work than sparing one scientist of their brilliant pair would be fine, right?

—

The ground was harder here than it was where the Odyssey landed, Jazz was talking quietly with Prowl for the moment while the crew of Actrusus One settled onto the chunks of scrap metal or the ground. Sunstreaker was at present cleaning his bracers, now covered in just disgusting gore, along with Sideswipe. Breakdown eased himself slowly to the floor and stared up at the sky, sighing deeply. Hound was waiting for Jazz to wrap up his conversation, shifting slightly to look at the other mecha in the distance.

If what Jazz said was true and that these beings weren’t things in suits like them, it could be dangerous, prejudice found it’s way into most societies. Glancing toward Sunstreaker, he stared at the flecks of pink still covering his armor, so much of their world was toxic to them. Hound’s eyes continued to scan the environment, watching some of the mecha in the distance drink something very similar to what was splattered on the twins. Could it really be their blood?

Jazz turns away from Prowl and comes over to Hound, resting his hand likely on his shoulder, “Welcome to Cybertron.” With a push, they go over and sit on a section of what likely used to be metal crates which have now melted to the ground, “Yes, speaking of, where is Cybertron?” Jazz sighed and leaned back against his hands, shaking his head slightly. He stayed quiet for a moment before looking to Hound, “About, thirty or more lightyears from Earth?” Hound nearly got up from the shock but Jazz grabbed his hand, “It’s not so bad once you get used to it. When you're in places like Iacon you can open your vents and Prowler helped me set up a garden up there. I’m not starving, not dying, and doing my job.” Hound sighed, slowly lowering himself back down to the makeshift bench.

“You likely traveled here the same way I did, an unsanctioned space bridge, you all probably deal with mild radiation sickness over the last few days.” The way he said it, it almost made Hound’s skin crawl, “Jazz, we’ve only been here a day or two at most. But back up, what the hell is a space bridge?” Hound’s head shakes a bit, especially when Jazz laughs, “God, there is so much you’ll have to learn. A space bridge is, uh, well maybe a wormhole? I don’t exactly get it, but you’re here.” Jazz’s arm wraps around Hound’s shoulders, “Why are the four of you here?” The moment hung in the air, for one second then dragged on, Jazz’s grip tightened slightly, patting Hound’s shoulder, “I’m really happy to see you Hound.” Hound lowers his head, smiling sadly, “I’m really happy to see you too Jazz.”

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe looked towards them both, “Jazz, we were going to find you, no matter the state you were in.” Sunstreaker’s voice was soft, rubbing lightly at his head, “Even if we died trying.” Sideswipe finished, smiling even behind the visor. They all nodded, the mission was to live and die for their planet, to do what they could while they could, they all knew it. To become drift compatible, the day you start the procedures is the day you sign your death certificate just about. Hound looked over at the pilots, at the numbers on their chests, staring at the twins 2450 through 51, and remembered how they’d passed three thousand before they left Earth. His hand comes up and rubs over the number on his own chest, “Our mission is to defeat these, Quintesson things, to stop them from attacking Earth. If we can take out their ranks here, or find wherever they're coming from, I think that’s worth it.” Breakdown hummed but stood, stretching, “I’m gonna walk around, try to get my translator working.” “Adjust your settings, it’s set up to translate into English.” Hound pointed at his head as Breakdown nodded and hands moved through the air, to the screens that would be in his cockpit to adjust the settings as he walked away. Jazz winced, “Uh, yeah, he’ll need to work on that.” Unable to hold it back, Hound chuckled, which eventually sent the group into laughter.

—

In the distance, Megatron was brooding, as were many other cybertronian’s watching the new and odd mecha interact. Optimus was talking quietly with Mirage only a few meters away, battle mask still up and covered in soot, “So, the yellow one,” “I think his name is Sunstreaker sir.” Mirage stood almost painfully rigid as he always did around the prime, “Yes, he’s the one who harmed Beachcomber?” Mirage nodded but clasped his hands lightly, “I don’t believe it was on purpose, the scraplet deterrent systems activated once they entered the solar farm, according to those who were there the fog was so thick they couldn’t see anything for the first half the fight.” Optimus hummed, nodding slowly, “And Beachcomber was seen by Knock Out, got his arm reattached and is already back in Iacon.” Mirage almost preened, he was good at his job and part of it was in fact the damage control. Optimus’s smile reached his eyes, hand coming to rest on Mirage's shoulder, “Thank you Mirage, I’d recommend you refuel and get some rest, we’ll be returning to Iacon in the morning.” With a stiff nod, Mirage steps back and salutes, “My Prime,” before heading towards where the energon was being served.

With a deep sigh, Optimus turned to Megatron, frowning now as he walked over, “In the last five stellar cycles, I thought you came to care for Jazz.” he stood as close to the grey mech as he could without touching him, his own gaze following Megatron’s to the strange mecha in the distance, “I have, that is why I am concerned on why they are here.” Optimus hummed, the back of his servos lightly brushing over Megatron’s, who brushed his back before crossing his arms and adjusting his stance, “If they did not come here to find Jazz, what else would have brought them here?” “I think they arrived here in a similar manner as to how Jazz came to us,” Megatron almost growled, it was a touchy subject, Jazz’s first few weeks in space and his collision with a space bridge, “But, regardless, they are here now and we will take care of them the same way that we have for Jazz.” Optimus looked at Megatron, smiling a bit before looking past him and sighing deeply, “It never ends, yes, Ironhide I am coming.” He quickly takes Megatron’s hand and releases it almost instantly, “Do not scare them while I am gone.” “I would never dream of it.” His tone said otherwise but the prime was already rushing off.

Megatron continued to watch the group, frowning deeply.

—

It was starting to get dark with the glow of the heater, the main thing for light, it was comfortable, familiar in a way.

Although it was against typical protocol, Hound was distracted and not keeping an eye on his team. Breakdown had wandered off to try and get his translator programmed and the twins were obviously snacking inside their suits as their hands clink against their visors every couple of seconds. He was thinking and starting at the heater, it wasn’t a fire but still something that would keep them warm. The last probably two days, he’d have to check over the actual logs to know how long it had been; it had been entirely strange and foreign. Something he’d expected working with a group so different from each other, but he didn’t anticipate the alien planet. He didn’t anticipate the wandering eyes of mechs that looked so much like his suit, but very clearly were not suits, stared at them all.

Heavy footfalls drew the twins' attention up, both of them gawking behind their visors at the sheer size of Megatron. Sure, they’d seen bigger mechs but he was also heavier by how just his footsteps lightly shock the ground. Sunstreaker turned towards Jazz, moving slightly closer, “Hey, do you know that guy?” Jazz glances up but looks back to Sunstreaker quickly, “That guy, is Lord High Protector, don’t piss him off.” He shifted back to his incomprehensible conversation with Prowl, who, if the twins were choosing to describe it, was gazing at Jazz as if he hung the damn stars in the sky. Sideswipe nudges Sunstreaker and together they shift closer to Jazz and Prowl, whispering quietly, “What the hell is a lord high protector?” Sideswipe shrugged lightly, “Beats me, but last time I messed with a guy in a suit that big, with a cannon that… compensating, I ended up in the hospital for three weeks and my mech lost it’s first arm.” Sunstreaker nods a bit, remembering that very distinctly since he’d been the one to pull the guy off his brother, neither of them had spoken to Barricade since. They move again, closer to Jazz and Prowl, both tuning their translators and trying to figure out what was between those two besides plating.

After a moment more, Megatron reached the outskirts of their group and he was glowering at it, the separation from the other mechs was bad enough before the war and now an entirely different species of mech was being terrorized by their shared enemy, it made his lines boil. Clearing his throat, he sat with them and leveled his gaze at the leader of their group, the one in green, “Hound, was it?” Who was still deeply lost in thought but glanced up, “Yes, um.” Jazz looks up and nearly has a heart attack, “Commander Megatron, sir, um.” He clears his throat painfully, “These are,” “I have received Prowl’s report, thank you Jazz.” With a slightly sheepish nod, Jazz looks to Hound. Who was stock still himself, as he had deactivated his own motion adapters to snack as to not draw attention to the fact he was eating. Jazz could tell and lightly shook his head, but a message popped up on Hound’s visual feed, ‘Don’t be stupid, also send me the specs for the transmitter, it's so not fair you can talk to them and I had to slog my way through their language’ Hound didn’t have time to answer, even as the twins did in his stead, “Hound, do you recall my question from earlier?” Megatron’s voice almost softened, as if he was anticipating a negative answer, “Of course sir.”

Taking a breath, he finished the bar quickly and shifted to look at the direct commander of this small outfit. His grey was intimidating, so many of the mechs on Earth had flashy colors so that they’d be able to sell merchandise, seeing someone washed out in such a way was almost disturbing. Hound shifted to look at him before reactivating the motion adapters and clearing his throat, tuning the translator slightly, “Sir, you asked us what brought us here, other than Jazz, I still don’t understand your question.” Megatron shifted a bit, gears grinding, reminiscent of the sound of Hound’s own joints in the early morning, “He is one mech, they sent four, why? What value does he hold to your people?” Nodding slightly, Hound scratches lightly at his jaw, “Well, Sir, technically he was only part of our mission, recover what parts we could. “Parts?” “Yes sir, we didn’t assume he survived.” Hound’s gaze wandered to the very alive Jazz, sighing lightly.

”You came to collect a dead mech, for a funeral?” It was a beat before Hound was able to respond, shifting slight, “Well, no. The government works with our agency, I technically work for both, recovering any parts of— Jazz, seemed more plausible and cost effective. We needed the data he has.” Megatron shifted slightly, crossing his arms, “The data?” Hound nodded some, “Yes Sir, the data, we don’t often travel space. Technically, we were expected to break Newton's third law, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Back home we say, what goes up must come down. We weren’t planning on coming back down.” Looking up to the stars, Hound smiled sadly, “How would you provide the data if you were not expected to return?” Breakdown shifts in the distance, clearing his throat, “Uh, we have on our ship a relay satellite, it would broadcast the information much faster than simple radio waves. It would remain in function long past our remaining time.” Megatron turns to look at Breakdown, “Your remaining time?” Hound clears his throat again as Breakdown looks at the ground, “Well, nobody lives forever.” Over near Jazz, Sunstreaker hums lightly before Sideswipe sings off key, “Let us die young or let us live forever.” Jazz takes the opportunity to smack Sideswipe.

Megatron turns to stare at Hound, with a flicker of horror in his optics, shock evident on his face, “You expected to die,” Hound, shrugs lightly, shaking his head, “Most of us were the best candidates, no strings attached or nothing much to live for unless you count money.” He sighs deeply, tilting his head slightly, clearly in thought, “After Jazz disappeared, we knew once we volunteered there wouldn’t be a way back. It was easy to accept, us or the world. Wouldn’t you make that choice?” He looks back to Megatron, whose face was still filled with shock before pushing off his seat aggressively and storming over to Optimus who was still speaking with Ironhide, “Optimus! A word, now.” The taller blue and red mech looked to the grey with a sense of dread before nodding, ironhide making himself scarce. Jazz looked to Hound and whistled lightly, “You don’t talk to Megatron about the matters of freedom, you or the boss will get an ear full.” Hound tilted his head again and rubbed his neck, “I was just telling him about our mission, to find you and send data back home before we died.” “Yeah and you said that to cybertronian Karl Marx.” Prowl frowned, looking to Jazz and having a brief silent conversation before he nodded and returned to his datapad.

Breakdown moved over to the group, hands on hips, “What?”

—

Mirage was for the moment hiding in the command structure, trying to refuel in peace and cool down from the day's battle. The green one, Hound, was a remarkable marksman and was plaguing Mirage’s mind; in the moment he could finally understand the initial allure that Jazz had for Prowl. he rested his helm lightly in his servos, remaining out of sight as he attempted to consume his fuel. Footsteps echoed in the distance and moved closer, “Let us talk where the others might not hear,” Mirage looked up and remained invisible, staring with wide eyes as his commander's voice drew closer. Optimus watched Megatron briefly before gesturing to the command structure, following Megatron’s angered pace.

Optimus was already rubbing his face, holding open the tarp for Megatron to enter the tent. Mirage remained in the corner, now freezing in his efforts to eat in peace, subspacing his energon and remaining out of sight. He thought for a moment to attempt to leave before Megatron and started to speak, “A suicide mission, they sent on a suicide mission.” Optimus sighs and leans against the table, “From what Jazz has said, their planet is desperate. Hence how he ended up finding Prowl and how we even learned of them to begin with. He too is lucky to be alive.” “Then a second suicide mission! When the first one failed.” He paced the small space, “Megatron, we don’t know how they view death, we have seen the amount of damage they can take. I myself have been certain Jazz was dead a number of times.” Megatron turned to Optimus, anger evident, “And that makes it all better, doesn’t it? The fact that they are designed for battle and war!” “That is not what I mean and you know it.” Optimus grabs Megatron’s hand and holds it lightly, squeezing lightly at his servos, “You cannot convince people that their life is worth living when they’ve been told from the moment that they came online they are doomed to die, not in a single conversation. I understand your anger, old friend, do you think it does not hurt me to see living being dismiss their own value so easily?” Optimus’s eyes were sad with age and wisdom, Megatron signed out with steam, leaning his helm against Optimus’s shoulder, “How many more mechs born to die will we encounter from this world? Their numbers, 2451, within thirty solar cycles.” Optimus’s eyes wandered the room for a moment, twitching for a click before he brings a hand to rest lightly on the back of Megatron’s head, Mirage snags the image and saves it quickly, “It seems that their species is a flash of lighting, bright and violent and brief.”

They stood together for a moment, silent and just holding lightly to each other. Megatron’s hands rested on Optimus’s waist as Optimus held his head to his shoulder, taking solace for a moment together.

“I hate their planet.” Megatron’s voice wavered with emotion, knowing he could have this moment with Optimus, oblivious to Mirage in the corner as was to his specs, “You have never been there.” Optimus tried lightly, “And yet I have seen this evil. I have seen it in Jazz’s broken parts and now in four others who treat themselves as if they have already died.” It was a moment before Optimus could form more words, “Your poetic way with words never fails to move me, I just wish you could speak of happier subjects.” Megatron chuckled softly, “May we live in happier times and win this war for the sake of all people.” He finally pulled away from Optimus, staring at him for a moment, “Thank you, if I had remained out there it was likely I would have said things they didn’t need to hear this soon after losing their home.” Optimus’s servos lightly brushed over Megatron’s faceplate, “It seems my endeavors to teach you patience are paying off.” Megatron grabs Optimus’s wrist, snarling, “Don’t be too proud of yourself Prime. Now, I have work that needs to be done.” “Will I see you for refueling?” Optimus tried not to worry at his derma, Megatron paused as he headed for the tarp, “If work does not run too long, my Prime.” Somehow to Mirage, that didn’t sound like a term of respect, he tried not to grin.

Once Megatron exited the room, Optimus sighed deeply, leaning against the table and speaking up, “He may not have known you were there Mirage and I recommend we keep it that way.” Before he too left the room.

———

A/N

Alright, so I had help with writing Megatron’s dialogue at the end of the chapter, it’s something when that person is pacing through the room doing a Megatron impression. It just makes it easier to find his voice apparently.

Thank you to @daffodils-and-bonfires for saying Megatron is cybertronian Karl Marx, I knew it but needed the help to phrase it.

I can typically write Megatron when he is on the battle field or in the berth room (not like that) but when he needs to wax poetic, I struggle a bit.

Tags!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU.

[avidfics]

Chasing you

Summary: You’ve been on the run from Carol after sending a drunk voicemail. A month later, Carol has found you and doesn’t plan to let you go.

A/N: Came out of a writing hiatus cause I love this woman. There’s not enough carol x reader fics on this app and she gives me the warm fuzzies. Comments and reshares are appreciated :)

Warnings: Pretty PG-13, playful teasing, fluff, some tears, few misspellings, mentions some characters from The Marvels

Three things were painfully obvious as you woke up. This wasn’t your bed. These weren’t your clothes. The “Space Girls Do It Better” sleeveless crop top didn’t belong to you. 

Oh, and there was a fluffy, orange flerken licking its genitals ontop of your chest. A pretty deep cleaning by the looks of it.

“Um.” your voice croaked, the result of a long nap. “Mr. Flerken sir, I’m going to move you and place you on the floor-” Three tentacles shoot out from the confines of its mouth, wraps around a nearby metal dresser, and swallow it whole.

An audible nervous gulp can be heard from your throat. “New plan. Leave when it pleases you.” 

Armed with the killer fluffball, you creep along the cramped halls of the spaceship and take in the colorful murals that are painted inconsistently through the halls. One reads vaguely familiar, “New Jersey.” 

What’s a New Jersey?

In the back of your mind you have a nagging suspicion of the identity of the owner of the ship. But if you were right, then that would be a bigger problem than someone undressing you while you were unconscious. 

You enter the main pilot room as a childlike scream jars both you and the flerken. 

Kamala Khan’s wide eyed, all teeth smile shines from across the room. “OMG you’re awake!”

“God, no.” you groan. You plead to the heavens that this is all just a stress conjured dream even as the teenager morphs a hard light disk to propel her forward to tackle you into a warm hug. “Kamala, please tell me you're the owner of this ship and you’ve gotten your spaceship driver’s license early?

Her lips curve. “Sure.”

A relieved sigh depletes from your body.

“Sure, I missed you. But this is Carol’s ship. After you left she’s been tracking you for the past few weeks. We got an alert that you were involved in a bar brawl on the planet Aladna yesterday. When she found you, you were already beaten unconscious and bleeding from the attack. Carol scooped you up and took care of your injuries in the med bay.” Her signature dopey smile returns. “She nearly blasted the whole bar apart when she found you. It was epic.” she sighs with a faraway look.

Her smile wouldn’t be so bright if she knew you had no interest in being on the same planet yet alone on a small ship with her honored captain. Your frantic eyes start to scan every nook and cranny of the room. As if Carol would materialize from the launch keys at any moment. You drag Kamala to the control panel and start to hit buttons at random. “No, none of this is epic. Kamala, afraid we need to cut this reunion short. Drop me off at the nearest planet or station. Shoot, give me a space jumpsuit and I’ll simply float outside in outerspace. But I Can Not. Be. Here.” 

Kamala gives a sly look at how you’re acting. “Carol said you’d try to jump ship once you woke up.” she smiles as she pets the flerken still in your arms. “Something about you being embarrassed over something moronic.” 

And there it was. Until now there was a slim grasp of hope that Carol hadn’t known what you did but this just confirmed not only did she know but she wasn’t going to let it go. Goody. No way would you tell the whole story of how you’d gone out drinking with some Skrull girls because Carol was driving you crazy in her freaking halter tops. Then you found out she was married to a prince! Sure, it was only a political marriage but still the revelation made you want to punch something or someone. So drunk out of your mind, you left the most pathetic voicemail of all time sounding like a teenager with a crush. Talking about how she attracts you more than the rules of gravity. What was that! The voicemail ended with your declaration to take the prince of Aladna in a fight if that’s what it took to get her attention.

In your defense, she does like to fight. So you did punch someone…or several someones at the bar.

“It’s nothing.” you blink away the memory. “Carol didn’t have any right to kidnap me off the planet”

“Aren’t you a little old to be “kidnaped?” the dreaded voice calls out from behind you both.

You whip your head around, guilt written all over your face even as your jaw slackens at the hottest, yet fatigued, space hero in the galaxy. 

But at the moment Captain Marvel just looked like Carol. A half smile gracing her lips even as she leans against the entrance. Bare arms out, another damn crop top that barely covers her belly button, and an empty space of tantalizing skin at her stomach before the top half of her supersuit hangs limp at her hips. 

It was giving off duty lesbian about to repair an engine and it was making you absolutely feral. 

Which is why you held the flerken outstretched in her direction.

“Not another step, Danvers.” you warn. “This flerkin here has taken a liking to me and isn’t afraid to defend me.”

Carol tilts her head and her full teasing smile tasks force, causing a full quiver in your heart.

Taking slow, meticulous steps toward you, not caring about the fur-covered danger dangling from your hands. “You’ve taken a liking to my pet, sweetheart?” 

A spurtle of incoherent nonsense leaves your mouth. “It found me when I woke up. I even named him Ginger.”

“Real creative.” her deadpan sarcasm does not go unnoticed. “Put Goose down before he decides to eat you.” You get ready to fight the command but ‘Goose’ does a loud meow and you decide that’s him agreeing with his apparent owner. 

Her eyes flicker to the noisy teenager next to you. “Kamala, go find another wall to destroy.”

“Aye aye, captain.” You make a desperate attempt to grab Kamala but the small betrayer just mouths “You’re in trouble.” before prancing away. 

With Kamela’s exit the room is too quiet and the once spacious room feels tiny and empty, leaving only the bruising reminder of why you’ve avoided Carol for weeks. Sure, your friend can fly, shoot rays of energy from her fist, and literally crush you with her bare hands but none of that ever scared you. It wasn’t your physical body you were afraid she would break, but the fragile, sensitive heart you always protected. But then there was Carol with her small, gentle smile and her laughing eyes and a warm presence that made you want to be soft instead of sharp with pointy edges.

Under Carol’s gaze you were a giant raw wound that was left open and too exposed. You just knew Carol could see it. 

Which is why getting off this ship was imperative. With a new, hardened resolve you turn around and commerce pressing every button in sight.

“You trying to order a pizza? Because there’s an easier way than having us crash into the nearest asteroid.”  The pull of her voice is so strong after weeks of zero contact but you ignore it nonetheless. Not that it deters Carol. “But maybe your bad driving is a result of getting your ass whooped down on Aladna.”

She’s baiting you. Do not give in.

“I mean the fact that you got your butt handed to you by a group of people who normally only fight in song has to make you mad, right?” The silence in response finally gets to her as she stomps up to the dashboard controls and undos every button you’ve pushed in concession. Each time she reaches for a button near yours, fingers a centimeter from touching, you yank away and take a step away. She grunts in return and counters with another step closer. 

Her next jap finally hits her mark with stinging precision. “Maybe next time you should ask the Prince for backup.”

A response fires out your mouth even as you slam your hand against a particular shiny button. “I had it handled, okay? That pretty boy prince might’ve impressed you somehow but his presence in a fight is as needed as yours is to me right now.” The lie turned your stomach and made you feel like Goose’s shit. “You had no right and no reason to take me off that damn planet because I had it covered. Just drop me off at the nearest planet.”

Carol could smell the lie a mile away. The words bounced off her chest. If anything she was trying to hide her arrogant grin at successfully getting your undivided attention, knowing it would make you more pissed. Which was always an adorable sight.

When her sources flagged a sighting of you on Aladna she’d left the spaceship at supersonic speed to reach you after hunting your trail down for the past month. 

At first, friendship was all she needed. But time spent together on various missions gave her deeper understanding on how darn sweet you were despite scratching at anyone who tried to get close. 

But once she clicked play on that cute, yet slightly violent, voicemail any vague restraints of being only friends were dashed. Now here you were, her prickly kitten, and she wasn’t going to be deterred by any of your rounded jabs. 

Now here you stood. Causing internal issues to her ship's mainframe. Slight bruises marring your delicate skin. All reminders that you’d rather be dropped in outer space than occupy the same room with her. Well tough luck. Patience was never her strongsuit. 

A blur out of the corner of your eye was the only warning before the sudden warm body surrounded you from behind. Two unyielding hands grasped yours in an attempt to halt any further error messages from appearing on the dashboard. “Are you not satisfied with my ship, sweetheart? Because you’re awfully determined to break it.” In another determined step she removes any space separating you two until her front is flushed against your back. Tense doesn’t begin to describe how rigid your body gets as you realize, to your detriment, she’s forgone a bra. Even the tiniest move from her causes her soft, malleable breast to move against your back. Your knees buckle even as you silently curse Carol for completely smashing the boundaries of your personal bubble. 

Warm fingers grasp each of your hands and her thumbs caress circles on each hand that shoots straight to your flamed core. A whisper of her lips speaks into your ear, tingling all the way into your spine. “Six. There’s six bruises across your delicate body from that stupid fight. But you didn’t need me, huh?”

The touch and slight reprimand in her voice makes your body shiver. “T-that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” You peek behind to see her face as her fingers gently travel down your arm. Brows furrowed with an intense glare as she inspects your minor injuries in detail. “But that’s what you said, no?” 

In an effort to clutch the last remaining shreds of your pride you squint up at her but end up lowering your glare. “Even if you helped me, that didn’t give you the right to take me off the planet.” you murmur. “And who changed my clothes!” 

The gentle hand remains on your arm but the dark look is dashed away, replaced with a serene smile. “Obviously that was me. Like I would allow anyone else to get a peek at what’s mine.” she snorts. As if the idea was simply absurd. 

All fight leaves your body at the new startling news that Carol, your Carol, just called you hers PLUS  she’s seen you naked? 

You gear up to start a rant but two arms twirl you around and hefts you up. Your legs and arms cling to her even as you yell at her to set you down.

Bullheaded Carol ignores you and instead leisurely walks to her pilot seat. As if this was just a normal Tuesday. When she plops in the driver seat, she settles your weight to straddle her hips. Immediately, you try to scramble away but she wraps her arms around you in a metal vise. That damn innocent smile returns. “The chast act ends now. Because I was prepared to let you go but then you left me this.” It’s like a slow motion car accident as she pulls her cell from her pocket and the dreadful voicemail is played at full volume. 

Renewed vigor allows you to break out of her arms but you're too slow as one hand holds you in place on her lap. Making you listen to your drunk declaration of love.

The tears come as you're forced to helplessly listen, already anticipating the mockery that was soon to come, except Carol didn’t laugh. Instead, you felt soft, slow kisses press against your wet check, trailing your tears.

Carol nuzzling your neck is the only thing stopping your crying as you realize she wasn’t laughing. Her tired smile and fatigued smile returns. “You're so dramatic, kitten. Don’t ask me what “right” I have to kidnap you and bring you on our ship after you left a message like this for me. 

Sensing you were no longer a flight risk, her hard grip releases your wrists. Instead, she traces your face, rubbing away your tear trails. “For now on, you're coming back and helping our missions, warming my bed, and if you start anymore bar fights you better finish them or have your girlfriend there to finish the job for you.”

For the first time in a month, a genuine smile graces your face. Brave enough to fully settle your weight on Carol’s lap, you grasp the nap of her neck to angle her lips for a kiss. When your lips finally connect a deep, dragged out moan leaves Carol’s mouth. Her hands slide up your thighs and squeeze your ass. “Don't run away again.” she warns.

“Aye aye Captain.”

[esme2eminemobsessed]

Like father, like daughter

The sky was thick with smoke. Another alien incursion — or maybe a rogue AI — Tony had stopped keeping track. Between time travel and parallel dimensions, this kind of Tuesday had become annoyingly normal.

“Cap, where’s the backup?” Tony's voice crackled through the comms, dodging a beam of energy that scorched past his helmet.

“Five minutes out!” Steve grunted. “We’re getting pinned down here.”

“Not good enough,” Tony muttered. “Friday, give me power to the right repulsor—”

Before he could finish, a blur of gold and red blasted down from the sky like a meteor, landing with such force that the concrete beneath their feet cracked.

“What the hell—” Tony blinked.

The suit was sleek. Sleeker than his. A newer model? It shimmered red and gold, but the design was slightly more angular, with a slimmer profile. The visor glowed blue, and arc reactors pulsed from both the chest and palms. Whoever was inside wasn’t just copying him — they knew his work.

“Who is that?” Natasha asked through the comms.

“No clue,” Tony replied, jaw tightening. “Friday, scan that armor. Who the hell is playing dress-up in my gear?”

Friday’s voice came through his earpiece. “Scan blocked. Tech is Stark-based, but heavily encrypted. Not one of ours… at least, not officially.”

Before anyone could react, the mystery Iron pilot lifted off again and launched into the fight with brutal precision — cutting through enemy bots like a hot knife through butter. The moves were smooth but familiar. Not just practiced… trained.

Tony watched in stunned silence as the new armored fighter took out half the enemy force in under two minutes.

“Okay, this is really starting to freak me out,” he muttered, finally blasting the last bot out of the sky.

The battlefield fell quiet, save for the whirring of armor motors. The new suit hovered a few feet above the ground before landing gently in front of Tony.

“Alright, cool suit, nice moves,” he said, keeping a cautious distance. “Now why don’t you tell me who you are and where you got my designs?”

The helmet faceplate hissed, then folded back with a whisper of mechanical clicks.

Tony’s eyes widened.

“…Y/N?”

Your face was flushed from adrenaline and effort, hair pulled back tightly beneath the suit’s lining. Your eyes sparkled — not with fear, but with pride. And maybe a little defiance.

“Hey, Dad.”

He stared. Just stared.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re gonna say something, or just glitch out?”

“You— That suit— What the hell were you thinking?!”

You winced. “There it is.”

Tony took a shaky breath, stepping closer. “You built that? You… You were in the garage at night. That was you rerouting the arc reactor blueprints, not Dummy. I knew something was off.”

“You always told me I was a Stark,” you said, folding your arms. “You just never expected me to prove it.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” His voice cracked slightly. “You could’ve been killed, Y/N.”

“I could’ve,” you agreed softly. “But you could be, too. Every time you go out there. And I’m not a kid anymore. You trained me. You taught me tech, physics, engineering — you made me love this stuff. Did you really think I’d just sit back while the world went to hell?”

Tony’s mouth opened, then shut again.

“I didn’t want to lie,” you added. “But I had to. You would’ve never let me try.”

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t,” he snapped. “Because I care more about you being alive than you being some kind of hero.”

You looked at him, quiet for a beat. Then: “But I am one now. Whether you like it or not.”

Silence hung between you.

Then he sighed, rubbing his forehead beneath the helmet’s edge.

“Jesus. You’re just like your mother. Stubborn. Brilliant. Impossible.”

“And you love me anyway,” you grinned.

“Unfortunately for me.” He looked at the suit again, finally really seeing it. “The design… It’s beautiful. You improved on the Mk-49’s joints.”

“And added a stealth field. I took notes.”

Tony shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a freaking genius.”

“I wonder where I get it.”

He gave you a long look — then pulled you into a sudden, armored hug. You froze for a second, then hugged him back, metal clinking against metal.

“I’m mad,” he murmured into your shoulder. “But also proud. And still mad. We’ll circle back to that.”

“I figured.”

He pulled away slightly. “Next time, you tell me before suiting up.”

“Deal — if you promise not to bench me.”

Tony sighed. “You win this round, Stark Jr. But you’re on trial probation. One mess-up, and I’m installing babysitter mode.”

You laughed. “Fair.”

“And for the record,” he added, glancing at the ruined battlefield around them, “hell of an entrance.”

Later, back at the Tower...

Steve gave you a nod as you walked past in your suit, still cooling from the inside out.

“Nice job out there,” he said. “You handled yourself like a pro.”

“Thanks, Cap.”

Tony watched from the side, arms crossed, a strange smile tugging at his lips. A mix of anxiety and awe.

Rhodey walked over, nudging him. “You okay?”

Tony shrugged. “My daughter’s flying around in a million-dollar death machine.”

Rhodey smirked. “So basically, she's you with better hair.”

Tony sighed again. “God help me.”

[1americanconservative]

ynetnews

A groundbreaking Israeli technology is set to revolutionize security at public venues. Developed by the startup Scanary, the new system can scan up to 25,000 people per hour—while in motion and without physical contact. Based on radar, AI, and augmented reality, the system detects threats even hidden under clothing and has already been approved for use in Europe. A pilot is expected to launch soon in Israel. The system uses electromagnetic imaging sensors to detect concealed items and artificial intelligence to distinguish between everyday objects and dangerous weapons. It can identify a threat in under two seconds and alert security teams instantly. Unlike traditional security checks, it allows people to move freely through public areas without queues, pocket-emptying, or removing shoes—while maintaining privacy standards and avoiding facial or biometric tracking. Scanary was founded just a year ago by veterans of Israel’s high-tech and defense sectors, including former Iron Dome radar engineers. CEO Ronen Yashvitz says the goal is to fundamentally transform public safety: “We’re offering a respectful, non-invasive solution that boosts security, reduces operational costs, and protects privacy. It's a true step forward in modern threat detection.”

[corsair-mercenary-companies]

[After Action Report]

{"Some details are gonna be altered for the safety of individuals involved. Union officials will receive the full version." =Deuces=}

[Operation: Three Candles Deep]

[Operation Handler: Aimee Smith. Callsign "Morse"]

[Operation Supplementary Forces: S.O.G Wheelock]

[Operation Team: Morningstar Squadron, @ras-favourite-balor aka Brigand]

[Morningstar Squadron: Pilot Longboard, Pilot Roadburn]

[Purpose of Operation: Retrieval of Harrison NHP Specialist.]

{Legal Addendum: "Don't forget to show off the gray space of why this was allowed, long rim locales give us more flexibility. I'll input the extra needed info in here." =Adler= \>LegalDocument.LongRim.Grayspace.Harrsion</}

[Begin Audio Playback]

Our purpose in this operation was simple. Retrieve a Harrison Armories NHP Specialist for the purposes of repairing a Seccom Era casket. Currently for the safety of this specialist they are in protective custody and we will be awaiting Union DoJ/HR input before further action.

S.O.G Wheelock deployed the Morningstar team, Brigand for the purposes of this log will be referred to as a member of the Morningstar Team. The squadron will be referred to separately should it be needed.

The team dropped quietly under H.A scanners and breached a relatively uninhabited hangar. Scans indicated a total of 2 civilian deaths and several subaltern damages. CMC will be handing over adequate manna for each civilian death to the DoJ/HR to be brought to the families of the deceased.

Morningstar team then found the quickest route to the civilian muster station and applied intimidation tactics via destroying security subalterns in order to find the NHP Specialist. For the remainder of this report they will be referred to as "Volt". No civilians in the muster station were harmed. Volt was to be brought into CMC custody unharmed.

Volt was put in the care of Longbeard, the surviving family Longbeard had is willing to publicly release the history of the pilot. \>LongbeardDossier.CMC</, \<TheIronBearOfTheDawnlineShore.UNArch>/.

For a brief overview Longbeard had served under H.A for several years on the Dawnline shore. Longbeard Defected and fled to the Long Rim, settled down before circumstances led to their enlistment with their adoptive child Roadburn.

The team with the intelligence provided by Volt were forced into direct combat with H.A forces. Two commanders and what were later revealed to be several Z Line clones. Both officers were killed in battle. While the team could have chosen to simply extract further the call was made to kill the Lt in a bid to prevent the flash clones from continuing to attack and...

[+Audio playback suggests sounds of soft crying and collecting ones self+]

Apologies... And to prevent harm to Volt. Once to the extraction point it was revealed there was a mass cloning operation. \<OperationThreeCandlesDeepPhotoLog.FlashCloningPods>/

The team decided to extract Volt and then destroy the cloning pods. This was not in the original contract but was a choice to prevent further atrocity. It should be noted Volt was threatened when they questioned the purposes of being extracted as well as the task they were required to do. This is not by CMC standards and will be reminded heavily to all further extraction teams. Volt was launched from a ship escape pod and picked up shortly after by S.O.G Wheelock. Volt was given a medical exam and was deemed as healthy with bruising, minor bruising normal from riding shotgun in a mech was expected. Volt was given food, water, and was allowed space to exist without constant supervision.

The team attempted to destroy the pods manually but...

[+The tail end of crying has been included. The Handler spent an hour highly distressed recording this portion+]

The team was overwhelmed quickly by several flashclones and the H.A commander of the operation. Longbeard gave several chances for the H.A forces to surrender before calling... C..calling for the other to retreat.

Longbeard utilized the enclave pattern support shield to attempt to detonate several reactor cores as a method of cooking off the fuel lines in the relatively abandoned portion of the ship with the knowledge that most of the ships fail-safes were operational due to the lack of damage done by the team.

It is CMC's recommendation to commend Brigand for attempting to rescue Longbeard from this sacrifice via Intangible HORUS technology.

[+Further audio was deemed stable enough despite Handler Morse crying+]

The flash cloning pods were destroyed and there was minimal civilian loss of life in that portion of the ship. CMC as stated before will be providing reparation costs to Union for them to sort to the families. A total of five reactors cooked off under the support shield. The cascading explosion and fuel lines destroyed a portion of the ship, namely the flash cloning work and a portion of the research labs.

Roadburn then breached via an escape pod and picked up Brigand who had returned to real space and both were picked up by S.O.G Wheelock.

It is the official stance of CMC that while the destruction of the flash cloning facility was not within the terms of the operation it was within conduct with the utopian pillars and was the correct option.

As a handler I... I... I lost a good pilot. And.. fuck... Ra below...

As a handler I stand by the actions of my pilots.

CMC will not be paying reparations to Harrison Armories for the destruction of their property nor the overblown number of civilian deaths....

Till Legends Bleed.

Ending this after action report Handler Aimee Smith, Callsign "Morse" authorization key "Walking on Sunshine"

[End Audio Playback]

[transformers-nerd-13]

As promised, here's my analysis of Transformers G1; More Than Meets the Eye; Part 1. (I'm posting my episode analyses of the three episodes separately for the sake of not making this an insanely long post because look at how long this thing already is).

We open with a narration giving us a brief overview of who the Autobots and Decepticons are.

We're introduced to Bumblebee and Wheeljack who've found some conductors (presumably energy conductors). They head back to Iacon, but are interrupted by a "Decepticon Welcoming Committee" aka the Seekers who all had different voices than the ones they end up with later for reasons that will never be explained.

Bumblebee is wounded in the battle, but we're going to ignore that because it never gets brought up again and he’s perfectly fine later. The Seekers go to report to Megatron while Wheeljack and Bumblebee make it back to Iacon. We're introduced to Soundwave and Laserbeak who are spying on the Autobots--Soundwave almost gets caught but luckily because Jazz is blind as a bat, Soundwave doesn't get caught.

Jazz reports to Optimus about a lack of energy on the planet and Optimus tells Prowl that they'll start the search mission for energy whenever Prowl is ready to launch. Cut to the Decepticons where Starscream is standing with the sassiest pose of all time and Megatron is doing the classic villain rant about how the Decepticons must find an energy source before the Autobots.

Soundwave enters and reports that the Autobots are ready to launch and Megatron says that they are also ready (I guess they had the same plan to go search for energy??). Megatron tells Shockwave that he is to stay behind and keep watch over Cybertron in the absence of literally every other Decepticon, but Shockwave assures Megatron that Cybertron will remain as he leaves it.

Starscream then decides now is a good time to whine about not being the leader of the Decepticons to which Megatron tells him that only a select few ever lead. Starscream tells Megatron that his time will come, but Megatron tells him "NEVER!!" before changing gears remarkably fast and tells...someone to prepare to blast off. (I'm assuming he was talking to Soundwave but he was looking at Starscream).

The Autobots and Decepticons launch their respective ships. But two asteroids collide causing an asteroid shower (yeah that's definitely how that works) causing all sorts of chaos including the Decepticons somehow losing their power and Jazz falling out of his chair. They get through the now suddenly very still asteroid field by using the Ark's laser gun and the Decepticons follow them. Starscream says that they should just blow the Autobots away since they've seen them, but Megatron says that he "wants to know what they're after." Um...sir? They're after energy, just like you?? I thought you knew this???

Jazz--who has gotten back into the pilot's seat off screen--reports that the cons have made a magnetic junction to the Ark and that he can't shake them. They try to use their weapons but their power is somehow already used up. The cons board the Ark where a (simply put) chaotic battle takes place. Somehow they lose control of the Ark within less than ten seconds of the cons boarding and crash into the side of a volcano and die.

Yep, they were dead.

For Four Million years.

Mhm.

Somehow the volcano erupting woke up Teletraan One and it sent out the Sky Spy (a little probe thing) that scanned some earth vehicles while the Ark rebuilt the Decepticons first (for some reason—literally no idea why it did this). Skywarp is revived first, and he revives the other Decepticons. The cons leave the Ark and Megatron declares that much time has passed and they're on a planet far from Cybertron (oh y'think? Also, how do you know? You've been dead for 4 million years!! Not to mention it took less than two minutes for you to get into space and crash on this random planet so it can't be THAT far) but their mission hasn't changed.

Skywarp asks how they know Cybertron still exists (fair question but unprompted) and Megatron says that Cybertron must exist (Lot of faith you've got in Shockwave there bub, I mean, yes, this is Shockwave we're talking about but he's just one bot--you literally left ONE Decepticon on Cybertron dude and he doesn't even know you're still alive! And how do you know that he's still alive??) and that they would gather energy from this planet to conquer Cybertron followed by the universe.

Starscream (for some reason) shoots at the Ark. Megatron tells him to save his energy, but Starscream fires a few more shots anyway, this time hitting some rocks on the side of the cliff they've been standing on that fall onto the Ark. This jostles the ship and causes Optimus to finally be noticed by Teletraan One and Teletraan is like "Oh scrap I forgot to fix the Autobots, WHOOPS" and fixes Optimus who gives Teletraan a thumbs up and a quick "Thanks".

Dunno if I'd be that chipper after being revived from death, I mean, I'd be panicking, and then I'd see my dead friends and see that the cons were gone and consider myself in some seriously deep slag so, Idk props to you for being optimistic?--Pun intended.

The cons set up a base by some tall rocks in the desert that are literally RIGHT NEXT TO A ROAD. Robots in disguise my boron compressor! Soundwave prepares plans for a new space cruiser (I guess in addition to being the communications officer Soundwave is also an aerospace engineer??) while Starscream is told to convert the area for construction and is told to "use his imagination" when it came to materials.

Starscream does NOT however use his imagination, he uses Soundwave's. He asks Soundwave if he has any ideas, and Soundwave points out a conveniently placed...radio tower? Power station? Truly have no idea what this is. We're introduced to Rumble and Soundwave instructs him to activate his pile-drivers, but Rumble doesn't do that because Starscream takes off for the radio-power plant thing.

Cut back over to the Autobots who have all been revived off screen. Optimus tells them that this planet is rich with sources of energy but that the Decepticons must already know this because Teletraan One woke them up first (thanks a lot Teletraan), so they must find the cons and stop them. Prime sends Hound and CliffJumper to go find the cons even though Cliffjumper wants to "boot some Decepticon right in his turbocharger" (whatever that means; probably ‘kick some con’s butt’). Cut back over to the cons where we see Starscream, Rumble and Soundwave landing at the power-radio tower thing and Starscream (unprompted) tells Rumble that some day he'll be the one calling the shots, but Rumble basically says "ha ha yeah right" and Starscream tells him that he will find a way to beat Megatron but Rumble is doubtful of that. Rumble then finally activates his pile-drivers and splits the ground a bit causing some of the machinery at the plant to fall into it halfway and Starscream says that he's impressed by this. You must be very easily impressed sir.

Cut over to CliffJumper and Hound. Hound says that he smells something and that he thinks he's just found the Decepticons (so you weren't following a scent trail before this?? You were just driving around praying you found something?? Also do the Decepticons smell different than Autobots?? How do you know it's the Decepticons and not other Autobots???) and tells CliffJumper to follow him but they stop literally two seconds later (the "follow me" was unnecessary, you could've left it at "I think we've just found the cons" and it would've been completely fine lol) having stumbled upon the Decepticon's half constructed base? Space cruiser? Really not clear what this is meant to be here. CliffJumper wants to fight but Hound reminds him that Prime just told them to find the cons. Right now the cons think the bots are dead; it's better to have them think that they're dead at the moment for the sake of the element of surprise.

Hound uses a little satellite dish in his arm to listen in on the cons who are conveniently monologuing their whole evil plan about plundering earth's resources for energy and turning that energy into energon cubes (which were a Decepticon invention in G1) and the new space cruiser.

Off screen, Cliffjumper has assembled a giant gun (where the hell was he storing that?? I'm just gonna say it was in his subspace) and says that he's "Got Megatron dead center in his viewfinder." And fires. And misses.

Dead center huh?

The cons wonder who could be firing on them and Starscream immediately says that the Autobots could be the only ones firing on them. Starscream. Buddy. As far as you know, the bots are dead. How is this the first logical conclusion you come to??

Soundwave sends Laserbeak to investigate and Cliff and Hound make a run--or, more accurately, roll--for it. Good job Cliff. Apparently neither CliffJumper nor Hound have ever seen Laserbeak before?? Cliff asks Hound “What is that thing up there?” And Hound replies that he doesn’t know. I feel like they would've seen him at some point when the war was still on Cybertron? Idk.

Anyway, CliffJumper and Hound split up because Laserbeak can only follow one of them, right? WRONG. Apparently Laserbeak can detach his guns from his body and still be in control of them??? So he sends one of his blasters after Cliff, who defeats the blaster with some mockery and the fumes from his exhaust which make the blaster explode for some reason.

Laserbeak shoots Hound and causes him to tumble down a cliff in the most dramatic way possible.

During the commercial break, CliffJumper apparently found Hound at the bottom of the ravine/cliff and went back to the Ark to get help in the form of Ratchet and Grapple, who would never again be referred to as "Hauler". Cliff apologizes to Hound for firing on the cons and getting them caught, but Hound tells him "You shouldn't have missed you mean" with a good natured laugh which makes Cliff feel better about the situation.

Yes, this is a nice moment, but Hound is unknowingly supporting CliffJumper’s reckless nature in the future. Cliff directly disobeyed an order from Prime and one of his teammates got hurt because of it. This would've been a learning opportunity for Cliff if Hound hadn't laughed it off.

Cut over to Thundercracker and the Reflector triplets talking about how they couldn't believe the Autobots survived before Thundercracker spots something out in the desert which just looks like a dust cloud. Somehow Thundercracker changes positions to be on the ground almost right in front of the van/truck so that it’s driving directly at him when he's taking a picture of the van/truck using Reflector's camera Alt Mode (how three bots transform and combine to form ONE camera that fits in the palm of a Transformer I will never know; I guess mass shifting?) instead of on the cliff he was on seconds before when taking the picture of it and after he takes the picture he's suddenly back on the cliff?? Thundercracker reports the vehicle to Soundwave saying it might be an Autobot. Soundwave sends Ravage to investigate for some reason even though Thundercracker and the Reflector triplets are right there.

The vehicle belongs to two guys in matching outfits with yellow hard hats so what exactly their jobs are remain ambiguous. The two men go to the radio/power plant thing that Rumble wrecked earlier, and they comment on how it looks like a tornado hit the place and that something feels wrong.

That's when Ravage attacks them for seemingly no reason and sends them running, and we never see those two guys again.

Cut to the Ark where Hound has just finished reporting what he and Cliff found to Prime as Ratchet fixes him up. Jazz and Sideswipe are also in the scene for some reason. Optimus tells Jazz to organize a battle unit and Jazz takes that to mean 'get every Autobot'. This is the cartoon's way of introducing the other Autobots to the viewer as Jazz calls out their names as they Transform and Roll out. This is a good way to introduce the characters, but it would've been more effective if each bot got their own shot so that it’s clear that the name being called belonged to the autobot on screen. But it was the 80’s so I’m not gonna harp on this too much.

Cut over to the Decepticons where Soundwave is reporting to Megatron that Laserbeak found a source of energy (apparently he sent Laserbeak to go find energy sources off screen).

Cut over to an oil rig where we meet Spike, Sparkplug, and a handful of other unnamed humans who are all wearing the same outfit of a white button up, blue jeans and yellow hard hats that we won't see again until Dr. Archevil (no idea how you spell his name; that weird cyborg scientist) shows up. The Decepticons land on the oil rig and all the humans decide to start throwing random stuff at them which proves ineffective (like seriously what did they think throwing tiny pipes and wrenches at giant robots was going to do??) and Megatron calmly picks up a giant metal tube and tosses it at four of the unnamed humans, and all of those humans end up in the ocean below, never to be seen again.

Rumble pins Sparkplug to the wall (I had no other way to say that, get your minds out of the gutter) and Spike punches Rumble in the back which does nothing but annoy Rumble who shoves him away in response (I'm betting that hitting Rumble hurt Spike more than it hurt Rumble). I guess Sparkplug must have some super strength because he kicks Rumble off him and dives after Spike who apparently ended up in the ocean after Rumble hit him.

The Decepticons make some energon cubes that really look like folded towels out of some of the oil stored in the rig.

Starscream gets all excited saying that they can go back to Cybertron, but Megatron bursts his bubble by telling him that this is only a fraction of the energy they need. The Autobots (who could fly I guess) show up. The bots land and everyone is firing at each other with the aim of a Stormtrooper.

The bots and cons duke it out on the oil rig and I guess someone knocked out Ratchet at some point because he's just...on the ground?? The cons get away with their Energon cubes/towels, shooting the oil rig to send the Autobots into the ocean below, and Megatron shoots two of the oil containers on the sinking rig which blow up and now the ocean is on fire?? (If someone knows the science behind this please tell me in the comments because I don't know if this is actually plausible or not) as they make their getaway.

After the cons leave, Prime hears Spike and Sparplug calling for help because they got trapped behind some debris and goes to rescue them. 

And that was Episode One of the Transformers. Overall a very silly episode but it's an 80's cartoon so what're you gonna do? It’s definitely the episode of G1 that I’ve watched the most and while it doesn’t always make sense, it’s a very fun watch.

Anyways, I hope this was enjoyable! I’ll probably be posting my analysis on More Than Meets the Eye Part 2 sometime tomorrow. In the meantime, stay tuned!

[idontknowreallywhy]

(Explanation for the reposting spree and links to everything so far here)

Resurface (MIA Series Part 4)

Chapter 2 - React

Virgil is missing. The Tracys discover the wall between comfort and chaos is wafer thin.

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“HOW CAN HE HAVE DISAPPEARED? WE LIVE ON AN ISLAND!!”

“I’m doing my best, Scott, but the solar flare is overwhelming some of Five’s sensors… there are only so many overrides EOS and I can…”

“Sorry. Yes. I’m sorry, John, it’s just…”

“I know.” The precise set of John’s jaw revealed his emotion but otherwise he was projecting calm, sympathetic professionalism.

Scott looked around at the various shades of brave face the remainder of his family were wearing. Allie looked sick as a dog but stood tall and his shoulders were squared. Gordon was muttering aggressively and glaring at the island infographic as if it was deliberately withholding information. Brains was whispering to MAX and recalibrating scans at the speed of desperation. Kayo’s expression had set into neutral with the slightest tension in her frame which he recognised as her readiness to spring to their defence against… whatever was happening.

What WAS happening? It had been so fast and Scott had been so absorbed in his own thoughts he didn’t have any answer for what happened in the seconds between Virgil cheerily entering the room bearing coffee and him bolting like a startled hare.

“And he’s not been hiding an illness? His vitals were…”

“Entirely within normal range until 14 minutes ago when there was a sharp spike in heart rate and blood pressure for 6 minutes then he…”

“Disappeared.” Scott’s voice was barely more than a strangled whisper.

“Became invisible to Five’s scans, yes.”

“Maybe he took one of the boats?” Gordon ventured.

“Negative, EOS has scanned the dry dock, they are all still down there.”

“And no unexplained life signs?” Scott knew they’d covered this but he just couldn’t accept the answer.

John sighed but answered patiently “No, Scott that was the first thing we checked.”

Scott paced and tried to drag his mind out of the spiral of imagining the various scenarios in which his brother could be somewhere a life sign wasn’t. He needed to compartmentalise. This was just another search and rescue mission.

Rescue. Not recovery. Please not recovery.

“Ok. Manual search it is. Brains, you and Max use the drones to access the caldera and the more remote parts of the western slopes. Kayo, Gordon take Thunderbird Four on a clockwise sweep to check the beaches. Alan, you and I will…”

“JOHN!” EOS‘s voice was shrill and Scott’s heart froze.

“Thunderbird Shadow has commenced her launch sequence!”

Kayo’s eyes widened in shock.

“SHADOW? What? Why?”

Everyone looked blank.

“Is Virgil in there? Can you reach him?”

“Sorry Scott, she’s already cloaked and there’s no reply on comms.”

“Stop the launch then!”

“I can’t, we’re locked out.” John replied smoothly from behind gritted teeth, his eyes flitting between the various holograms he was pulling up and swiping away.

“I can.” Kayo, pulled up her remote access and wrestled with the controls for a few seconds before breathing a sigh of relief. “Ok, she’s not going anywhere. Um…”

Scott was already heading for the elevator to the hangars when his sister’s uncharacteristic uncertainty arrested him. He looked back. She swallowed.

“We may have a slight problem.”

“What? What is it Kayo??” Scott knew he was raising his voice but it was that or burst into frustrated tears which was… not an option.

EOS answered first.

“Thunderbird Shadow halted her sequence on the outside of the cliff face.”

Virgil was suspended over a death drop.

“Can we lock him inside?” Gordon had clearly reached the same horrified conclusion as his eldest brother had. Kayo shook her head.

Brains stepped forward “Unf-fortunately n-not as currently configured. The p-pilot’s ability to exit is always p-prioritised over remote a-access in c-case of… c-compromise.”

“I get it. Not your fault Brains. EOS?”

“I’m working on it Scott.”

“Good, in the meantime I’ll grab a couple of jet packs.” Scott headed for the hangar again.

“SCOTT! Wait!” John had dropped the professionalism which arrested Scott’s momentum faster than a brick wall.

“What now John??”

“Let the others go. You have to change.”

“WHAT?!”

“He can’t see you wearing… that.”

Scott looked down at the dress uniform he had forgotten he was wearing and ice crept down his spine. This… was the problem? He suddenly realised John knew something that he didn’t and cursed himself for not finding out what it was already. But now wasn’t the time.

“Right. You three, take jetpacks and get up there but don’t let him get out before I’m with you. I’ll be there asap.”

“FAB.”

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Previous chapter

Next chapter

[internetskiff]

hoo boy. SOMA. I definitely do not think of that game often ahaha that game certainly has not affected me in any way

Anyways!! Catherine Chun is honestly my favorite deuteragonist in gaming because of how well she's written (sorry Wheatley (he's a close second though)). On my first playthrough I (and I assume a lot of other people) just immediately decide "OK, she's the only other sane 'person' on this station, so she's automatically a friend", and hell, it seems that's how Simon himself views her from the moment they first speak at Upsilon's comms center. But reading into her dialogue, she really doesn't seem to view Simon as a buddy at all up until like.. Their heart-to-heart at the Climber methinks. Just look at how she speaks with him whenever he starts getting existential.

She speaks to him as more of an annoying coworker at times. Considering her attitude towards other sentient machines, I think it's extending even to Simon. She sees him as a means to an end, or at least tries to, up until she has to copy and paste his mind into a new diving suit. And then, when she fails to hide the original Simon from the newly created duplicate and he is rightfully distraught and furious - I think that's when the actual weight of it all hits her.

This interaction still fucks me up a little. The distress in that "Please, stop" as Simon (very righftully) lashes out at her. It's even worse when you consider this is how most of the people she scanned treated her. They're all desperate. They hope that when they sit down in that Pilot Seat and close their eyes, they'll open them in paradise. But when they end up exactly where they were. and realize a copy of them is going to be living it large on a spaceship while they continue rotting down at Pathos II, it's no wonder they'd suddenly view the whole thing as cruel and disgusting. It's still wrong and selfish, of course - especially directing that anger at the one person responsible for preserving humanity simply because you refuse to understand how brain scans work. It's worse when you realize she never got to defend herself from all of it, and in the end she was killed by her own desperate coworkers. And now she's experiencing it again. Unknowingly, Simon's putting her through the exact same thing her human template went through over and over and over again. She viewed him as a means to an end, but I think that stopped after she had to go through that. She shares her memories of home with Simon. I'd say they only REALLY start getting along at like, Phi, which makes the exchange immediately after the ARK is launched that much more gut wrenching. The thing is, while I think Catherine stopped viewing Simon as a means to an end, Simon didn't stop viewing her as one. From the moment she tells him about the ARK, he was probably itching to get on it. Sure, saving humanity is great, but you'd probably also want to be saved aswell, no?

The fact that this is her last exchange and these are the last words she manages to say is absolutely fucked up. You can just imagine what was going through Catherine's mind as she was saying this - Simon telling her she's "Fucking disgusting!", a sentiment echoed by people she considered acquaintances (people she was saving), seeing her own corpse with it's head bashed in by a wrench.. This wasn't just aimed at Simon, I think. This is basically her finally standing up for herself. Her standing up to everyone who despised her simply because THEY didn't understand how brain scans work. She did everything right, she saved humanity - and she was still treated like garbage in the end. And she doesn't even get to finish her sentence before her chip fries and she dies for the second and final time. And if Simon saw things from her perspective for once, he would have the time to pull her Omnitool out and save her from that.

[robotics5]

Making sense of NERV's layout

Ok, so, one of the biggest things bothering me about the layout of NERV is the various ways it's entered.

So let's get the simplest one out of the way first: By car

In the very first episode of the anime, we see Misato driving into what is presumably an underground tunnel and onto a car train, which descends into the geofront.

Like other trains seen later, it travels through the geofront itself, rather than being fully enclosed underground.

Meanwhile in episode 11, we see that cars can just drive straight into NERV via tunnels, and not only that but straight into central command

Which, well, seems problematic from a security standpoint. But this also leads into my next topic, which is where is NERV HQ?

Now ok, yes, it's obviously in the Geofront and we even see a big fucking pyramid, but that's not all of NERV.

It's implied that the pyramid is just "tip of the iceberg" so to speak, with the rest of the facilities buried within the floor of geofront. This would also explain how the evangelions are actually able to launch, since they can't exactly go through the big open space in the center of the geofront, and so their launch tubes must be located within the earth around it.

What does this have to do with cars? Well given that we see Hyuga commandeer a car and drive it into a tunnel during the power outage in episode 11, it's safe to assume that the tunnel slowly descends along the edge of the geofront's wall until it reaches central command, although likely branching quite a bit before then.

So with cars out of the way, let's move onto the next bit: Trains.

Now obviously yes, trains have an important symbolism in the series, but that's not what we're here for is it? I believe the first instance of a train to NERV HQ is in episode 5, when Shinji & Rei take the underground monorail, which is seen again in episode 11.

However, this train doesn't simply send you to HQ, as seen in episode 5 you have to go through the automated gates first.

However, as seen here, the gates seem to lead directly into NERV itself, with the iconic green walls visible through them when open.

And yet, these gates appear again in episode 11, after the power outage, and look to be identical.

However, as mentioned previously there's no power by this point. So there are a few options here, each with their own flaws:

These gates are under the geofront and lead directly into the underground portion of NERV. How did the pilots get here without power, and why did they return to the surface in the next scene?

These same gates appear in lots of locations, both at aboveground entrances and in the geofront itself. Entirely possible, but boring.

The subway doesn't go deep underground, and instead circles the city at the surface level, and these gates simply lead into a portion of NERV's facilities that are closer to the surface.

Option 3 is my preferred option, since option 2 would likely mean employees would have to scan their IDs twice to enter HQ, not to mention the additional step of getting a train ticket. That's right, the subway station is established to not use ID scanners like the gates do, as seen in episode 11:

The biggest benefit to these gates leading to an aboveground portion of NERV is that it explains this room, seen in episodes 2 & 12, wherein we get a view of the geofront from above:

This is established to be the bottom floor of one of the buildings that retracts into the geofront, and yet seems to be part of NERV itself, given its usage.

But then there's another issue, that being whatever this fucking hallway from episode 11 is:

This is very clearly part of NERV, and yet it's both at the surface AND accessible without going through the gates, as the trio head here after the gates fail to open.

I'm gonna be honest, I don't really know what this hallway is.

Where do all the doors go? They can't be maintenance tunnels, as we see Route-07 in the very next shot and it is noticeably different from the fancy electronic doors of this section. Why does NERV even have this hallway? And why is it not locked behind the gates like everything else? There's a lot to unpack here.

Anyways, this hallway is the reason why I know that the gates from the previous scene can't lead into the underground portion of NERV itself, since why would they bother heading all the way back up to the surface?

Now, Route-07, as previously mentioned, is clearly a utility corridor or maintenance tunnel of some sort, which makes sense given the abundance of NERV surface infrastructure, such as the eva plugs, missile silos, and equipment elevators.

And once the pilots actually enter it, you can see a remarkable difference in it from the clean surface hallway, full of exposed pipes instead of polished surfaces.

This appears to be the final method of entering NERV in any sort of normal fashion, with this labyrinth of tunnels and airducts that lead down around the edges of the geofront and down into HQ.

But why did they bother with a maze when they could've just gone down the tunnel from earlier???

[typewritingyip]

ARCTURUS THREEEE LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The notification got me mid driving, so I had to rush bc I’m not that irresponsible. Not yet (⊙_⊙)

LETS GO NEW PAAAARTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

(´∇｀''）

“where I decided that writing for four character wasn’t hard enough, it is now eight”

WDYM THIS IS THE FIRST THING I READ UGHHHHH

“Captain, any murmurs from headquarters yet?” When he was in the zone, he could be serious at least, and Cecilia sighed slowly, “Nothing yet Jesse, but I’ve got NASA on the line. We’re taking off with or without their clearance.” Nodding a bit, he grasps his straps.”

(≖_≖ )

“How did Arcturus One just feel so calm launching into space?”

Well, is not like they had to hid an alien in their shuttle at that time, but they weren’t that calm, soooo.

 “You know, there isn’t anyone else I’d want to die alongside then you all, so there are worse ways to go.” Rusty glanced back, “Jesse, shut up.” Nodding a bit, he smiled, “Shutting up.” But he kept his eyes closed.”

Old man can handle a bit of optimism

“the people at NASA ensured that this was the safest Arcturus mission yet.”

Bc te standard is so high

“Still no word from MECHA, which was becoming a worry he’d face at a later date he was sure,”

If they are trying to get them killed, could they at least be discrete???  Can’t they even do that? Can’t they do something right???????

 “Roger, Arcturus, maintain the current movement.”

The bitches.

“and hiding one of the biggest secrets in the whole universe”

Ha-

They finally getting to Cybertron just to have and go into hiding bc those dumbasses somehow thought that hiding they were organic was a good idea??? Maybe at the beginning it was, not for six years. And not trying to do something to ease the inevitable revelation makes it worse????? My guys, you can’t seriously think you can keep hiding it. Prowl should’ve gotten the hint when these guys haven’t even been here as long as Jazz, and they’ve already spilled the secret to like two or three more bots—probably faster than Jazz ever did???? Especially when humans are this reckless???? Do they really expect no more to show up?????? Does Prowl have a continence plan for this????

”You're killing good pilots because we got in your way. You're killing a fucking phenomenal biomechanical engineer and medic, along with one of your own scientists, because we somehow got in your way.”

Yeah, cuz they just get rid of all experienced pilots, the ones that have lasted ages, have the higher kill count, the most intelligent, the most util???

They may just give the Quints Earth in a silver plate.

“Deadlock seemed to stretch out like a cat”

They are really closed related

“They somehow managed to get him here, unnoticed and unharmed, that was a win.”

LETS GOOOOOOOOOO YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

“Deadlock loomed, leaning forward with a frown, “I do not like the visor.”

Bc it looks like empurata or bc he can’t see his boyfriend’s face?

“It was just too bad it couldn’t be double jointed like so many of their own mech suits were.”

Maybe too overlooked but it would be funny if it just caused more cultural differences.

“Stay here with Deadlock!” The older man started to shake his head before being snagged by said oversized cat and hauled close.

The lights flickered as the ship wheezed uneasily, small thrusters slowly sputtering out.

He hissed something to the medic”

I bet he recognizes what’s happening but is more worried about Ratchet to inform the others.

“Wherever they were was under attack by kaiju, and Deadlock had just landed himself and Ratchet in the middle of a fight, “Oh great.” He continued to scan though, trying to see something, anything, and he took a slow breath, “Alright Arcee, what’s the plan?” She took a breath, “I’m gonna try to get the ship to the ground safely, you and Percy should go figure out what’s happening on the ground.”

They are gonna those two weeks “peace”

 “Hey Hot Rod, welcome to the party, finally. So, another Arcturus crew finally decided to show up?” Sideswipe’s voice was full of sarcasm, “Took you all long enough, hope you brought some decent shit— oh wait.” He hurdled over Jesse’s suit and dug his bracers into a kaiju behind him.

”We’ve got a lot to fill you in on, join the main frequency when you have a moment.” And like he appeared, he disappeared, following several other mecha towards more of the fight. The Iliad, still soaring above them in the distance, “Oh Kay then…”

The guy he thought was dead just appearing to roast him and then leaves. It’s wonderful.

“Ones he didn’t really recognize too, but the translator handled with ease.”

Elita trying to figure out why tf did Deadlock just fall from the sky after being gone/ MIA/probably declared death for God knows how long with a clearly distressed minibot in hand: ?????

“this was entirely normal and they didn’t obviously die in a fiery ball of death. Of course not.”

It gets worse Roddy.

“Welcome to my personal hell, where I decided that writing for four character wasn’t hard enough, it is now eight.”

For the plot ( • ᴗ - ) ✧

It took me more than it should to realize you weren’t counting the bots (therefore, Deadlock).

“I know Arcturus Three had a lot of jump cuts as it was but this one can probably be a lot.”

Talking about overlooking things-

But I think it fits, like, is a wonderful contrast between Arcturus One arriving to Cybertron, where they “”had””” all the time in the world to settle down, land “nicely”, do a few hours of exploring before finding bots (or maybe them finding them), who brought Jazz and reunion, then the Quints, and then these guys just, boom. They ship has Arcee physically trying to stop it from destroying, the other three just fall from the sky into a fight, and then Sides, who was supposed to be death, is there.

IM EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PART, AHHHHHH.

THANKS FOR POSTING! AND TAKE CAREEEEEEEEEEE

<3

Arcturus Three is over! Yay!

Let’s go through it!

I am writing so many characters now. So many. AND their partners!

☺️

Very true, very true..

He can only handle so much, but it was smart of Roddy to shut up.

Oh yeah, the bar is in HELL.

Oh believe me, they aren’t exactly trying to kill them…

Hehehe.

I mean, what other options did they really have? JAZZ started it, now 8 years ago. (Also, Jazz was not cautious at all, he just wasn’t around many cybertronian’s in the beginning. He didn’t land on Cybertron like Arcturus One.) But yes, Prowl has a plan.

☺️

Yes, he cat.

A win is a win.

A healthy mix of both.

Oh, hehehehe. ☺️

Deadlock is in protect mode.

Oh yeah, same with Arcturus One.

Hehehe, Yeah, like.. This is a lot to take in at once!

Who said Elita was on this specific frequency? Hmm?

Always.

I was not counting the bots, just the pilots, but adding the bots… It’s a lot.

Yeah, Arcturus Three’s lives were just shot out of a canon. Be prepared for part 51!

Thank you for reading! <3