#Upgrade Outpost

[fogaminghub]

🌟🐜 Dive into the world of Empire of the Ants with our ultimate guide on the "Restoring the First Outpost" mission! Discover essential strategies, tips for resource management, and how to defend your colony. Get ready to build your ant empire! 🏰❤️

[general-kalani]

It's beautiful...

[beloskin]

My wrist hurtsss but i wanna play subnautica so bad....aooouughhhh

Idk where i need to go next tho so i gotta look up shit first anyways

[anaktoria-of-the-moon]

At work plagued by thoughts of a mech bigger than you can imagine.

She starts like most of them do, a Titan excavator rig modestly sized for their line: maybe a house or thereabouts, a big house. (Doesn’t matter why she signed up - perhaps a breadwinner, a lone mother or eldest sister, a daughter of aging parents nobody else will take; doesn’t matter what site they sent her to, Earth or Enceladus or Venus or Europa. She’s there, and she lets them strap her in and adapt her for the piloting interface and pump her full of protein ooze and electrolytes and hyperstimulant cocktails as obediently as the next laborer.)

Upgrades come, from big house to bigger, with shovels like hillsides and treads like highways. Still she remains in the cockpit, out only for one day every six months to say hello to her burgeoning family, who have moved nearby to make it easy on her, to meet the baby nephews and nieces whose names she doesn’t yet know.

War comes. The facility hunkers down. It just makes sense to retrofit their biggest digger with shields, to expand her arsenal a little more, give her a better engine, pour all their leftover resources into making her a great guardian, and she rises to the occasion, shielding them from orbital rays, absorbing the energy and taking the pain of it up into her own engines. When the corporate rats who own the site finally turn tail and run the workers and their families band together and do the needful repairs themselves. Her nieces and nephews grow up learning engineering by the light of oil lamps from stolen Old Era textbooks and jailbroken datapads. She hardly ever now glimpses their faces with her own two eyes from within her steel shell but it is a worthy sacrifice to her, to them, for both parties know she is still there, still with them, embracing them in a great steel hug and watching through a thousand glass-lensed eyes.

Years pass. The brightest of her nieces works out how to modify the nutrition cocktail going into her cockpit so she will never age, never die, never fall sick. Somewhere in there all the metal and ceramic encloses her ever-sleeping body like a lotus flower around the benevolent, immortal form of a bodhisattva.

The outpost survives the war, somehow. Refugees hear of the little town on the colony that could, guarded by a goddess the size of a temple, and flock there. It makes sense to add to her control, among her array of sensors and actuators, the new city’s power generation and delivery system, its wall defenses, its waste management, its communications mains. Nowhere is anything safer than with her.

With all these new additions come techs and custodians to keep her in good care. They build modest crew cabins nestled amongst her treads (now rusty from disuse) so they can be close to her, the better to help her.

Slowly more and more falls under her purview, new cabins, then mezzanines and stairways and platforms between them; each generation has their own superstitions that they add to those of the last before them, so paintings crop up on her metal panels now, in nooks and crannies, often crude symbols that promise good oil changes or swift code updates, or simply depictions of their goddess, of the war she survived. Still she watches.

Her nieces and nephews are all dead now, and their nieces and nephews look on through rheumed eyes as the city attains new heights, heralded everywhere on every planet that still lives as an oasis of peace and prosperity. Still she watches.

A new company comes, enticed by the stories. They want to buy her. Buy her! The people scoff. As if you could just buy a person! - A person? asks the representative from Acher Spaceways, perplexed. - We heard she was your goddess.

She is both, of course, the goddess who lives, the goddess who is one hundred percent flesh and one hundred percent machine.

Acher doesn’t like this. They send machines - zero percent flesh, entirely drones - screaming down from the stars for a more insistent negotiation, one phrased in metal slugs and incendiary fire.

So your goddess rises up to meet them.

It is over in a short day. The drones lie in pieces; Acher, from orbit, licks their wounds, and the goddess rebukes them with a single laser blast, modified from her very first mining waymaker photonic drill.

The blast is precise and surgical. It tears apart the whole platform, spinning central axis to annular habitat space, which supernovas into a blossom of shining proof in the night sky at which the citizens below cheer.

But the pieces are falling, and soon they will pepper the surface below with molten debris, kick up dust into the atmosphere and make it all but unbreathable. The people could leave, the goddess advises them through short-wave radio bursts. They could use her emergency shuttles to escape gravity before it is too late, or they could go underground and salvage her rarest and most precious resources to survive until the surface is safe again.

Here is the thing - every pilot is augmented, and most augments are for the benefit of the plainly physical, for strength and speed and stamina and sharpness of perception. When her people augmented her, they augmented something else entirely. With every new module, every sensor upgrade, every painted symbol and hidden shrine, they gave her a superhuman capacity not for stamina or speed or strength, but for love.

It is her love that saved them, so they must save her back.

For two days they work tirelessly, the whole city, while above them the shattered pieces of Acher Spaceways looms ever closer. When they are done the treads are gone, the cabins dismantled, only the little drawings carefully preserved under coats of abrasion- and heat-resistant paint. And under her, their city, their Haven, lie rockets, ten of them, repurposed from the old all-ore crucibles, fit to move an asteroid.

She’s out there somewhere by Orion now, they say, the fourth jewel in his belt. And she has only grown: from three thousand then to three hundred million. Creatures from all over come to pay her their respects, or to visit lovers, or to live there themselves. There is always room in a body that is ever expanding, like the cosmos itself. Over all of them, she watches, eternal.

Among all the stories they tell of her, they repeat this one the most - how she tore apart a whole space station for the sake of her people, knowing she would die if she failed, for how can a whole city hope to flee? She guards them, and in turn they do not abandon her. They are two halves of the same whole, they say reverently, love manifest - the people and their city; this pilot, this great machine. This Haven.

[tomahachi12]

do you have references for SD-Y and SD-T and can you tell us more about them?

it’s the girls!

took me long enough, gdamn..

I plan on dropping a lore dump on them similar to the one I made for Toma eventually, but for now, here’s some info for them belooooooow

Y and T were both present in the Elliott Manor, but not at the same time.

T was brought to the manor as Louisa’s personal maid, but was then reassigned as Tessa’s nursemaid after she was born. She took care of Tessa and pmuch raised her until she was around 6 years old.

T never liked how the drones were treated in the manor and one day spoke out against their mistreatment. As punishment, T was damaged and left to rot in the swamp.

She was later recovered, experimented on and brought back as a Disassembly Drone by Cyn.

—

Y was thrown out by the Company and was later found and repaired by Tessa and J. Y’s voice box was damaged when she was trashed and was taught how to speak again by Tessa. She picked up Tessa’s accent.

Y’s code is faulty, which causes her to be a bit clumsy. She would often drop or break things which would get Tessa in trouble. J didn’t like that and kept Y close to keep her from breaking anything. Tessa and Cyn could not fix her code. She’s still clumsy.

Y would often observe and even help Tessa repair new drones like V and N. She learned all she knows about drone repair and modifications from her.

—

pre finale

Y and T were part of the same squad. They hunted in an area close to Camp 98.7 and the Mining Facility. They wiped out Outpost 9.

Their leader, B, was killed by the sentinels when he attempted to enter Cabin Fever Labs.

T was ordered to “kill” Y when she was caught sparing the lives of a family of Worker Drones. T brutally ripped Y apart but her core was able to escape damage and got away.

Y took over the body of a dead worker drone and hid away inside Outpost 3 while she secretly built herself a new DDrone body. Uzi was very suspicious of her.

—

post finale

Y has her new body. She opens up a repair/modification shop close to outpost 3. Drones often come to her for repairs or upgrades. She builds Nori a new body (:

T has calmed down a bit and is running around somewhere.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Hey, since Rapi got a SSR upgrade, can we haz an imagine with her!

As for its contents… how about a date night set up by her S/O!

(GoV: NIKKE) Date Night with Rapi

It didn't honestly take much for Rapi to be happy with a date.

Staying inside the Outpost and spending quality time was nice and all, but S/O wanted to treat her to something a little special, especially with the salary they had been saving up.

It wasn't going to be anything grandiose, since Rapi didn't particularly care about things like that.

Just a dinner at a nearby restaurant out in "town", a classic date!

Something Rapi agreed to without hesitation, though that was mostly because anytime spent with S/O was a good date regardless.

And so, at 7:00 PM, S/O exited the Outpost with Rapi, hand in hand.

All the while the couple was being watched by Anis, Neon, and the Commander.

(Commander) "Girls, let them be."

Neon spun around pointing at S/O, amazingly keeping her voice quiet despite the fact she wanted to yell out:

(Neon) "But, Master! What if S/O isn't romantic enough?! They need proper guidance to have a good date with Rapi!"

(Anis) "Psh, are you kidding? With the way Rapi is, S/O is gonna be in danger! They even so much look at another woman, she's going to obliterate them!"

Granted, the Commander couldn't disagree with that last part, seeing Rapi's reaction when it came to other Nikke's trying to speak to them.

And yet-

(Commander) "I trust them both, and you should too. They deserve a nice night out to themselves without us shadowing them."

(Neon) "Hm...fine! But if Rapi comes home crying, then I'll just say I told you so!"

(Anis) "I think Rapi is going to be making other people cry first of all..."

...

S/O and Rapi rode the elevator down back into the Ark, the two of them finally relaxing once they were by themselves.

(S/O) "Let's see...Our tables should be ready by 8, so we have some time to walk around."

(Rapi) "Is there anything specific you'd like to do, S/O?"

S/O moved closer to Rapi, smiling at her.

(S/O) "Not in particular. Maybe window shop for clothes? I don't really have anything fancy besides my uniform."

Rapi smiled back at S/O, intertwining her hands with them again.

(Rapi) "I have a few outfits that the others have gotten for me...But, I think I'd like something different."

(S/O) "Heh, if you want I could pick something out for you."

Rapi blushed a little harder at that, but her smile seemed to grow brighter too.

(Rapi) "...I think I would like that, yes."

In the end, Rapi got a rather tacky pair of pajamas, against her better judgement.

It had cat prints all over it while colored a bright red.

S/O thought it'd be comfy for her to sleep in at the very least so that way she's not just sleeping in her gear all the time.

Truthfully, Rapi did like it, so she figured why not? After all, this date night was all about trying out new things to shake up the norm. This was a good way to start...Probably.

After that, S/O and Rapi had a meal outside, looking into the artificial night.

(S/O) "It's nice to get some fresh air like this."

(Rapi) "Indeed."

She continued staring up, her thoughts drifting to the past leading up to now, but quickly Rapi shook her head.

Right now, she shouldn't be focusing on what used to be, or what could be-

(S/O) "Rapi? You okay?"

She turned to S/O, the warmth in her expression growing as she met their eyes, smiling.

Rapi instead gave her full attention to the person she loved. Now that she had the confidence, she should show it.

She moved her chair over to them, taking another bite before nodding.

(Rapi) "Better now, I think."

[edward-cabrini]

I have more history I uncovered while researching for my books that could be useful for other fantasy writers. I also did a hell of a deep dive on one particular castle just because I could. It's a really interesting overview of how a castle was designed for one purpose but really only found relevancy a good few hundred years later. Castle garrisons were not that big It varies between peace time and war time, but a garrison was the small everyday force that managed the defence and security of the castle. If bodies were needed levies would fill in the numbers. In theory a castle garrison could be overrun by one sufficiently determined person and their bessie mate. Below is a list from most likely to least likely to succeeded in a pre siege raid: - An army launching a night assault with ladders from the woods - A few knights and some fellas with a ladder in the early hours - A couple 'ard lads with clubs posing as pilgrims - One serf, with no plan and a dream A castle was a tax write off No really, you read that right. However, think of it more as: I have built a castle, so therefore I am contributing to the defence of the realm, and so you don't need to take my money; rather than a castle building tax scheme. There is one castle in particular whose history tickles me so I shall share the abridged version, enjoy. Famously, the English-Welsh border has many castles. Were gonna gloss over that history and say it's for reasons and focus on the purpose of Beeston castle's existence on this border. Ranulf, Earl of Chester, fucks off to go crusading, makes money comes home. Delightful, but oh dear! the King's Justiciar is confiscating lands from other men who got rich from all the crusading. What is a man to do? Obviously a man is to build a castle. Ranaulf builds one tower and the walls. Not great, not useless though. Notably Beeston castle doesn't have a keep at this point. It looks good sitting on a hill with its walls and tower. In truth, it's really a political project rather than a true defensive outpost. Ranulf dies (1232), that's ok his nephew gets the castle. Oops, John le Scot dies (1237), now Beeston is seized by Henry the third. At last we have the realization that Beeston castle isn't really a castle. Two turrets are built and the outer defences completed. It's still not great though. Henry the third gives it to his son Edward, sadly not me another Edward of lesser importance but whom has a castle. Beeston castle in fact. Already a monstrous sum of money has been sunk into this project across sixty odd years, so what is Edward to do now he has the castle? Man is to build even more castle. he builds a new bridge, raises the level of three towers and adds the all important crenelations. Good job Edward "Longshanks". Edward dies in 1307. By 1540 the castles is described by John Leland as ruinous. So Beeston was made a political show pieces, upgraded into a more formidable fortification but what then? What important battles took place in this unusual fortification? Seemingly nothing in the medieval period so is that it? A ruin and nothing more?

No, it was sold to Hugh Beeston with the manor of Peckforton in 1602. What could have been known as Castle Longshanks or Ranaulf will now forever be known as Beeston. Not to worry, the english civil war has broke out and suddenly the castle is now very important to both royalist and parliament forces. Remember how castle garrisons are normally small? Parliament didn't get the memo so they crammed two to three hundred soldiers in to garrison the castle. Remember how I said a few determined fellas good defeat small garrison? Well Royalist Captain Thomas Sandford, got the memo! He and eight men entered the castle and took control of the inner ward, probably by scrambling up the rocky crag on the northside. The Parliamentary forces surrender the castle! A year later they're back and looking kick out the Royalists fending off repeat attempts to recapture Beeston. Parliamentary forces build siegeworks infront of the outer ward, settling in for a long siege. A year later the Royalists within the castle destroy the siegeworks! What are the Parliamentary forces to do? They are to build a castle! This time just a small fort holding a small garrison of a hundred men... Sorry, I misspoke. A small fort holding a sizable garrison within musket range of the outer gate. With the defeat of King Charles at the battle of Rowton Heath near Chester. Not that fucking far at all from Beeston castle. There's little point in the Royalist garrison holding out. They've eaten one cat too many and no longer have the stomach to keep up the fight. They surrender... Two whole months later. They could see where the king was defeated from the castle but apparently weren't quite done. Apparently fearful that the tax write off castle might be used as an actual castle once more, Parliamentary forces ordered it to be made indefensible. That is the end of Beeston's mad history.

As a final note to round of this brief foray into history, I'll leave you with this. A castle is a stone building, they were built for more than just defence and by no means were they unimpregnable fortresses. Go nuts with your castles in your writing. History is just as wacky as fanfiction.

[freesia-writes]

Originating from this post, I'd like to offer a list of longfics featuring TCW/TBB characters for those of you looking for some good reads! Feel free to drop any others into my asks! Fics are general audience or PG-13 unless noted "Mature" at the end.

The links are mostly to the post with the authors' descriptions so you can get a better idea of what each one is about!

Crosshair

Sharp Edges - @spicy-clones and @lightwise - Crosshair x F!Reader - Mature

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy - @badbatchposts - Crosshair x OC plus Batch/others - Mature

When the Order Fell - @victimofdavefiloni - Crosshair x OC - Mature

Caught in the Crosshairs - @silverwings22 - Crosshair x OC - Mature

Half-Moon Glow - @moonstrider9904 - Crosshair x OC; TCW AU - Mature

Roasted, Brewed, and Served with Attitude - MelMorganne99 - Crosshair x OC in Modern Police AU

It Never Rains - @letsquestjess - Crosshair x OC

Sunflowers and Blasters - @523rdrebel - Crosshair x OC

Only What Burns You Back - @the-little-moment - Crosshair x OC - Mature

Tech

Tech and Vel - @freesia-writes - Tech x OC

Song of the Sea - @silverwings22 - Tech x Alien OC - Mature

Tech as a Father - @missfrieden - Tech and Batch

Gravitation - @moonstrider9904 - Tech x OC AU - Mature

Meltdown - @autistic-artistech - Tech x OC - Mature

Brother, Hold Me Up - @lifblogs - Tech, Batch, Others - Mature

The World Goes Cold - @lifblogs - Tech, Batch - Mature

Hunter

Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt - @freesia-writeswrites - Hunter x OC

Hunter and the Librarian - @clonethirstingisreal - Hunter x OC - modern day AU

Sun and Rain - @photogirl894 - Hunter x OC

As Iron Sharpens Iron - @arctrooper69 - Hunter x Reader

Echo

Not Just the Carcass, But the Spark - @the-little-moment - Echo x OC - Mature

Test Subject/System Upgrade - @just-here-with-my-thoughts - Echo and the Batch

Rex

Captain's Log - @rexxdjarin - Rex x OC - Mature

Wolffe

I Yearn, and So I Fear - enigmaticexplorer - Wolffe x OC - Mature

The Wolfpack Queen - @reader6898 - Wolffe x OC - Mature

No Strings Attached and Walk Me Home (sequel) - @cyarbika - Wolffe x F!Reader - Mature

Multiple Featured Characters

Rise of the Clones - @AmberOwl24 - SO MANY CHARACTERS!

Stars Beyond Number - @dystopicjumpsuit - Clone Rebellion Echo x Riyo, Gregor x OC - Mature

The Moonwalker Series - @moonstrider9904 - Batch x OC (love triangle then single pairing) - Mature

Line of Destiny: A Series - @ilikemymendarkandfictional - Multiple Stories: Rex x OC, Crosshair x OC, Clone OCs and Howzer

Same Heart - @dumfanting - F!Reader x TCW Echo, then Fives, then Echo/Cross Poly - Mature

Blood Daughter - @letsquestjess - OC + Bad Batch Adventure 

A Lupe of Faith - @lonewolflupe - Jedi!OC x Fives, later x Hunter - Mature eventually

Stronger Together - @cloneflo99 - Rex/Crosshair x OC - Mature

Other Clones

Quantum Entanglement - @freesia-writes - Howzer x OC

Martyrs and Kings - @dystopicjumpsuit - Post-Stasis Kix x OC - Mature

The Only Exception - @starqueensthings - Howzer x OC - Mature

Disillusioned - @amberskyyking - OC + OC Clone Squad Adventure - Mature-ish

The Helmeted Hunter - @jedimasterlenawrites - Boba Fett x F!Reader - PG-13

Children of Providence - @ladysongmaster - Din Djarin, TCW Characters Adventure

The Last Word - @ariadnes-red-thread - Fives x OC

One Step at a Time - @wild-karrde - Clone OC - Mature

Welcome to the Outpost - @just-here-with-my-thoughts - Mayday!!

[sexhaver]

i didn't play the first one so I could be way off base here but i feel like Helldivers 2 makes the satirical nature of its setting about as explicit as it can be? i was going to append "without putting a screen at the beginning of the game that says 'THIS IS SATIRE'" but then i remember that the first thing you see every time you boot up the game is the title screen for a propaganda film with a footnote saying "your undivided attention is mandatory". the description for the upgrade that makes your turret strategems deploy faster casually mentions that it's repurposed from existing surveillance tech that allowed orbital cannons to track a person's every move and fire on them at a moment's notice. there's an entire class of mission where you deploy into war-torn regions, raise some flags over the ruins of various outposts, and then leave while declaring the mission a resounding victory. i know it's more difficult to explore the satirical nature of a setting in a video game as opposed to a movie, but, like, if you sat through this on bootup and took it and the rest of the game at face value and assumed you're playing as the good guys, you might be a little bit stupid

[ct7567329]

Here and Gone ~ Sev x F! Civilian Reader

Summary: One day while hiking, you accidentally stumble upon a Republic sniper post, a quite handsome Commando seated inside. Suddenly, your hikes start to coincide with his shifts, giving you a reason to return again and again. In the quiet moments you share, something unspoken grows between you. Delta Squad Week Day 5 - We Have A Problem (alt) Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: canon-typical violence, mutual pining, angst, loss/separation (i'm sorry) A/N: i apologize for this one - i 1000% broke my own heart writing it (i actually gasped when i thought of this idea) tagging @deltasquadweek for generously hosting! (and the obligatory @orangez3st tag) join my taglist / masterlist

You knew the way by heart now. When the right time of day came, you made your way up the back slope, past the ridge next to the porg shaped stone, and lastly, over a narrow bend that still smelled faintly of burn marks from old blaster fire. The outpost in the canyon below seemed to been in its daily routine of shouted orders, the clatter of crates, the buzz passing speeders.

But you were headed to the sniper post high above the outpost. It sat like an afterthought above the rest. You always loved that first glimpse of Sev. As usual, he was hunched in his perch, rifle stretched across the makeshift barricade like an extension of his body.

Each time you made you way up here, you remembered the first time you accidentally stumbled upon Sev's post. You were hiking along the ridge, collecting various rocks and stones to bring back to the village to turn into jewelry when you caught a glimpse of him. His helmet was off, loose dark brown curls clinging to his forehead as he took a sip of water from his canteen.

He was gorgeous.

Just as you could begin taking the sight of him in, he put his helmet back on and diverted his attention back out to the distance. Carefully, you approached him, throwing out some flirty line about handsome soldiers needing to let their faces breathe, but he kept his helmet on. He did allow you to take a seat next to him though.

Although the conversation was short, you returned the next day, and the next, and the next, until you became another part of his daily routine.

Today, like always, you carried a full canteen and a pouch of fruit you'd bartered from the village. You dropped them next to where he crouched, placing them gently so they wouldn’t roll. The pouch made a soft thud as it hit the ground, but Sev didn’t move.

“I brought more of the sweet ones today,” you chirped, taking a seat a few feet away from him, “Figured you’d earned an upgrade from ration bars”

His helmet shifted just enough to acknowledge you without ever taking his eyes off the scope. It was a small movement, but you’d learned to read them like tells in a game of Sabacc.

You leaned your back to the post wall, arms resting loosely on your knees. The heat pressed down across your shoulders, but there was a breeze up here that took the edge off. The sun caught the side of his armor, making the red pattern gleam like a smear of dried blood. From this angle, he almost looked more like a statue than man.

“You sleep at all?” you asked, trying to make an attempt at conversation.

His reply was short as always, “Some.”

You tilted your head, watching his shoulders slowly rise and fall with each breath, “Define some.”

“Just enough,” he shrugged.

You huffed, “Spoken like a true soldier.”

He didn’t answer, but his helmet shifted again, just a few degrees toward you, like he was listening more closely than he let on. It wasn’t much, but you took anything you could get.

“I heard the scouts saw nothing in the canyons today,” you noted after a few minutes, “That makes, what, four days with no movement?”

“Five,” Sev corrected, adjusting his weapon.

“So we’re overdue?" you suggested, throwing a shoulder up. He didn’t confirm or deny it, but his grip tightened slightly around the rifle. Your eyes dropped to the untouched canteen, “Hydration isn’t a sign of weakness, you know.”

“Neither is awareness,” he countered, running a finger along the barrel of his blaster.

You smirked, “You really do have a response for everything, don’t you?”

Sev let out a dry snort, “Only the important things.”

Your eyes drifted out across the ridgeline, where desert met sky in a blur of heat and quiet. There was something that must have been peaceful for him about this elevation and being removed from the decisions and orders and stress below. Sev made it his own. Or maybe it had made him.

“How long do you think you’ll be posted here?” you asked, still fixated on the horizon.

Sev didn't answer. You didn't even a hear a muffled static breath from under his helmet. You glanced over. His body hadn’t shifted, but his fingers hovered near his scope, motionless. He was frozen, like he’d been caught thinking about something he wasn’t supposed to.

You opened your mouth to ask again, but stopped yourself. Now that you were looking closely, there was something else off today. It wasn't just the quiet, he was always quiet, but it felt like there was something lying outside your grasp that he knew he had to protect you from, but couldn't. Or he was seeing something through the scope that you couldn’t see.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice thick with concern.

“I’m fine," he snapped back too quickly.

You frowned, “You don’t seem fine.”

He paused for a moment before exhaling deeply, “Soldiers don’t get the luxury of seeming anything.”

The statement sat heavy on you, but you didn’t argue. You knew he’d only shut down if you pushed. So instead, you leaned back again and let the silence stretch, trying to convince yourself it was just a bad night’s sleep, or tension from watching an empty desert for too long. Not whatever funk this was.

Sev finally moved. It was just the smallest tilt of his neck, angling his head down toward the fruit pouch at his side. He reached one hand down and unhooked the flap and took out a small piece, holding it between his fingers like it was foreign. He then brought it beneath his helmet and ate it in two quiet bites.

The progress made a smile pull at the corner of your mouth, “Told you it was worth trying.”

He shook his head , “It's still too sweet.”

You turned your face toward the sun and shut your eyes for just a moment, sighing. You weren’t going to ask what was bothering him again, but the thought lingered, "You’re impossible.”

“I wasn't talking about the fruit,” he admitted.

In an instant, you snapped your head to face him. Something was coming. You could feel it, but you just didn’t know what.

Sev was still frozen in place. His helmet faced forward, but his body was taut like the way a predator crouches before the strike. Your gaze followed his, tracking what he saw in the distance.

“Sev?” his name escaped your lips involuntarily as you watched a small transport in the distance begin to close in.

His voice cut through the stillness, “We have a problem.”

You blinked, heart skipping, “What—”

Before you could finish, his hand snapped out, grabbing your arm with a grip that brooked no argument, “Move.” There was no panic in his voice, but no room for hesitation either. The cold command made your skin prick with unease.

You didn’t hesitate. You scrambled to your feet, stumbling over the loose gravel at the edge of the sniper platform. His body moved quickly, closing around you like a shield. The closeness of him comforted you in the moment of chaos. You could barely keep up, panic knotting your stomach.

Sev led the way down the narrow metal ladder that creaked beneath your feet, until you reached a small, grimy door hidden in the side of the canyon. It hissed open and he pulled you inside, pressing you hard against the cold wall. The room was dark and cramped, stocked with crates and supplies. It must have been the outpost’s forgotten storage bunker.

He kept you against the wall, fingers tight on your arm as he scanned the entryway, “Stay quiet."

You nodded, your lips pressed firmly together as you waited. Your eyes flickered between the cracked vent above, the shadowed corners and the door. Your held your breath every time the metal door rattled in its frame, and with every distant echo that might signal an attack.

But nothing came. There was no blaster fire, no shouted warnings, no pounding footsteps, no nothing. Just silence.

Sev’s grip softened but didn’t release, “We have a problem,” he repeated quietly.

You swallowed hard, “What is it?”

You risked a glance at him, searching for answers in his motionless form, “Sev please,” you whispered, your voice breaking, “what’s happening? What’s the problem?”

He didn't respond.

You swallowed the lump of fear and frustration that had settled there and tried again, louder, more desperate, “Sev, talk to me.”

Slowly, he reached for his helmet’s latch. The hiss as the seal released seemed to echo through the air, filling the room with the release of some sort of tension.

The helmet slid back, revealing his face. It was raw in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes met yours, dark pools shimmering with a storm of emotions you couldn’t quite name.

“There’s no threat,” he confessed, “I lied.”

His words hit you like a blast. Confusion flared to anger, hot and unforgiving. “You lied?” You hissed, furrowing your brows, “How could you do that? Why would you scare me like that?”

Sev opened his mouth to speak, the quickly closed it, pinching the bridge of his nose. Finally he collected his words, "I never meant for any of this to happen."

You threw your arms up bitterly, "For what? To scare the kriff out of me?"

“It’s my last day here,” he admitted softly, “That transport is my shift relief. I'll be off world by nightfall."

The sharp edge of your anger faltered, replaced by a wave of aching disbelief, “You didn’t tell me?” you whispered, just barely loud enough for him to hear, “Why wouldn't you tell me?"

He ran a hand through his dark hair. It was a rare, human gesture that caught you off guard, “I didn’t know how to say goodbye.”

Your chest tightened as you searched his eyes. Beneath the armor, beyond the stoic soldier, you saw an uncertain, afraid, hurt man.

“The real problem,” he sighed, reaching for your hands, “is that I didn’t want to leave you.”

Your heart pounded so fiercely it felt like it would shatter your ribs.

He looked away, his shame making him want to vomit, “I never thought someone like me could have a moment like this. This small, quiet part of the day with someone who’s not afraid.”

You stepped closer, your hand reaching out to his chest with a tenderness that surprised even yourself. Resting gently on him, you let your fingers brush the cold plastoid.

“Sev,” you loved saying his name, “you’re not alone.”

His eyes met yours again, and for the first time, you saw a crack in his armor wider than any bullet hole.

The world outside faded away, the tension and fear replaced by something fragile and real. Here, in this small dark room, there was only you and him.

But there couldn't be something new.

You stayed close, your fingers resting lightly on Sev’s armor. You could feel a faint tremor beneath the thickness, subtle but unmistakable. The soft mechanical hum of his suit was the only sound beyond your breaths.

Sev shifted, the movement slight but deliberate. He rose his hand slowly and touched your cheek with feather-light contact, like he was afraid the moment might shatter if he was too rough.

The warmth surprised you. It caught you off guard how something so small could mean so much. You didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned in, eyes searching his face beneath the stoic composure he's been forced to maintain his whole life.

Then you saw it. A single tear, almost invisible in the dim light, traced down his cheek and vanished under his jaw. It was a quiet tear, but it felt like the whole war laid bare in that one drop.

You felt your throat tighten. You wanted to reach out and wipe the tear away from under his chin, but somehow, you knew you shouldn’t.

“I’ll always remember this place,” he rasped, “The sounds. The way the wind moves over the ridge. The light when dawn breaks.” He dipped his head just a fraction, “And you."

You managed a small, bittersweet smile., “Thank you for letting me come up here. For enjoying this view with you.”

For a heartbeat, his lips curved into a ghost of a smile. It was a rare break in his usual guarded expression, a glimpse of the man beneath the armor. Before you could fully enjoy it, the soldier in him took over again. His posture stiffened, and his armor seemed to reclaim its cold edge.

“We should get you down,” you reluctantly murmured.

The walk back was quiet except for the faint whistle of the wind. Everything felt vast and fragile all at once.

When you reached the shuttle, Sev stopped and faced you. The helmet visor reflected the soft lights, but you could see the vulnerability in his eyes.

He took a deep breath, “I’ll carry this place with me. Every detail. The smell of earth after rain, the way the light catches your face.”

You blinked, surprised by how intimate that sounded. The world seemed to hold its breath. Reaching our, you rested your hand on his chestplate. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For this. For everything.”

His helmet lifted slightly, a nod, and then his hand touched your cheek again. The contact was brief but full of meaning. You looked into his eyes, wanting to say more, but words failed you.

He turned and stepped toward the shuttle. The hatch slid shut behind him with a soft hiss, and the engines roared to life.

You stood there as the shuttle lifted, carrying him away from you, from this place. But in the quiet left behind, you felt the imprint of him settle inside you. You breathed in the cool night air, tasting the faint scent of rain on the wind, and closed your eyes.

Maybe someday, you told yourself, you’d find your way back to a place like this. Find your way back to him. Until then, you would hold onto this. The touch of his hand and memory of what almost was.

For now, that would have to be enough.

[artsy-hobbitses]

Are there any facts or headcanons you can share about Megatron?

-Cracks knuckles- By which you mean old man Morgantron, boy do I.

LOVES dogs. Thaddeus/Terminus used to own a mining dog that would help pull carts, a Bernese Mountain named Boudicca which both he and a young Morgan would dote over. While Bouda passed away in his late teens, that childish adoration for dogs hasn't diminished, and has instead been transferred to Old Fella---an old pit bull rescued and initially intended for rehoming by Barricade/Barrin, who eventually couldn't find the heart to give him up. Megs often has Old Fella curled up at his feet while he's catching up on reading in his free time.

Has a surprising sweet tooth. Sugar was a luxury in Morgan's childhood and not something Thaddeus couldn't afford very often on miner pay, and what sweet food was common there were coal miner cakes… which are loved but an acquired taste. His guilty pleasures include Mars Bars which a young!Omar/OP would share with him through the fence that separated them as children, and more poignantly, Brooklyn-style Blackout Cake since it was tradition for Thaddeus to get him a slice of it for his birthday every year until they were shipped off to Messatine.

Within Morgan's personal office in a glass case is an old blood-spattered and battered copy of Umar ibn al-Khattâb: His Life and Times (Volume One). This is the very first book he read outside of what was greenlit/approved for the manual class and was lent to him decades ago by a young Omar, who threw it over the fence they would talk through, for him to catch. It had been confiscated from him during a spotcheck, but he found it years and years later in a HR contraband warehouse and he's kept it guarded ever since. What he doesn't know is that Omar still has the second volume of that book (there are two) kept in the same manner.

Secretly listens in on Omar's increasingly popular book club sessions (Part of an Autobot PR programme after they figured out that Omar had a voice fit for ASMR and people genuinely wanted to hear him read to them) on the radio during nights where he's feeling particularly lonely and melancholy.

Is an excellent fiddler. However, was not allowed to bring his instrument to Messatine and hasn't played since.

Morgan can cook, but is primarily relegated to British pub fare. Makes a mean steak and ale pie, one of his favorite foods. He also serves potential Decepticon recruits slices of coal miner cake he bakes during their first meet/interview (he does not tell them he baked it) to see how they react. If they act like they're too good for the humble bit of joy miners like him partook in, they're out.

Morgan does not have a great sense of direction, because when you're living 80% of your life underground, everything looks the same and you simply follow the neatly delineated cart tracks to your workplace or berth. Tracks above ground ie. roads are. Messy, and very confusing. He gets lost more easily than one might expect.

He has however, a sharper than usual sense of smell, which helped him out a lot as a miner when it came to seeking out fresh air and quickly identifying toxic or flammable gases emitted underground.

He is also in Grimlock/Graeme's team of Sometimes Cannibalism Is Correct. Those guards who beat to death a miner in front of him while he was on Mining Outpost C-12? He found two of them years and years later (he never forgot their voices over the miner's pleas) as a gladiator, killed the one who struck the first blow and ate their heart (they had no hearts to begin with, he surmises, so really, they're not missing anything) while the other watched. This was symbolic of his hatred for them, but also to loosen the remaining guard's lips about Decimus' movements after the incident up to this point, and for sure, it worked.

No longer gets drunk (he assumes his gladiatorial 'upgrades' are part of the reason for this), deeply wishes he still could sometimes.

Morgan forged his own armor pieces as a gladiator, and this is something that has carried on into the present, as he helps forge the armor the inner circle Deceptions wear, which is then programmed by Shockwave (the exception is Starscream/Stefan, who has been using a prototype armored flightsuit made by Senator Shockwave/Sharifuddin from day one). He uses this time as a one on one session to get to know them better.

Still visits the little public library in the Dead End that Omar set up in honor of him every now and then when he needs somewhere quiet to collect his thoughts and slog through paperwork.

Is the asshole who dog-ears books, but in his defense, he'd never seen a book in his community as a child that wasn't banged up to hell and back---what mattered were the contents. The SOLE exception here is the book that OP gave him and was confiscated from him. It's more than a book; it's a gift from his oldest friend.

"You didn't ask, I don't see why it's an issue" gay. Though one can't tell from first glance because Impactor will bring up the time that he booked a male and female stripper for Megs as a 20th birthday surprise/joke, and came back to find both of them engrossed listening to Megs reading his notes for Towards Peace and discussing it between the three of them. Basically, he's Enjolras (cause above all) for everything and everyone except Prime.

If you're an enemy he respects, he'll kill you himself and make it quick. If he hates you, he'll prolong it. If you don't register on his radar/aren't worth the effort, you get Tarn.

Suffers from a mild case of black lung carried over from his mining days, which only becomes more apparent in his 50s, as his healing factor slowly decreases.

[ezlo-x]

hi so i got minecraft brainworms and been thinking of the golden goddesses and I thought it would be a funny scenario to imagine them playing Minecraft. cause as Goddesses of creation I think they would have fun playing the silly block game, so this is how I would think the play style of the golden goddesses would be.

DIN -

Experience - Expert

Mods - no mods she just plays pure vanilla

Prefered Style - Loves to terraform land to the point where it is barely recognizable from what it used to be.

Little knowledge of restone mostly cuz she's lazy to learn more of it, only knows the iron door mechanic and that's about it

Don't think she'd be an avid farm user aside from the basic farm animals. She probably only does a 3x3 square farms

Would for sure beeline to the nether the second she gets a chance

Favorite biomes are the mountain biomes

Her first base is a dirt hut that is her forever home, probably caused by a creeper explosion

Most definitely would fight the Ender Dragon with limited equipment (same goes for the Warden she dgaf)

Loves to find secret areas to loot (mineshafts, ancient cities, pillager outposts, temples etc)

Preferred difficulty is Hardcore

She likes to strip mine

When stripping away spawned areas she likes to give all blocks she obtains to Nayru so she can make cute builds out of it

Diamond > Netherite

Honestly she would probably play Beta Minecraft

NAYRU

Experience - Casual (?)

Mods - She for sure got shaders in, maybe a few building mods

Prefered Style - She's a builder, most def she builds a whole town in the places Din heavily terraforms. Only explores around to find a pretty biome. Rarely mines and its just easier for her to ask Din or Farore for some ores and equipment (which they do without hesitation)

Basic knowledge of Redstone, she mostly uses it to create secret doors

For sure got an army of axolotls, tho she just has them cause they're cute

Casual farm user like Din, probably creates massive wheat fields for the aesthetic of it and large animal farms so the animals "don't feel so cramped in"

Favorite Biomes are Sandy Biomes and Oceans.

Her base is an emptied out Ocean Monument (With the help of Din Terraforming and Farore killing off the monsters) where she neatly organizes her stuff.

Doesn't like exploring alone and likes to go with Farore

Plays in normal difficulty but likes to play in creative mode a lot.

FARORE

Experience - Pro Gamer

Mods - For sure has a lot of mods and shaders installed, probably adds like one(1) scary mod to mess with Din and Nayru and doesn't tell them.

Preferred Style - Likes to mine and upgrade her gear, for sure a completionist and likes to get all of her achievements

Expert redstone user, knows so much about Redstone where it's almost pointless

Has a ton of farms, iron, creeper, xp, you name it.

Favorite Biomes are Woodland Biomes

Her base is a massive mansion house she built (with the help of Nayru) there are walls of double chests with stacks of items she has obtained. She built her gimormus base where Din heavily terraformed and Nayru build a small town in.

When she finds an area (temple or what not), she likes to go ultra prepared with shulker chests to grab items.

Netherite > Diamond

Likes to hop between regular survival and hardcore

[nova--spark]

TFP: TIMESKIP | RID15 AU

Set 3 Years Post Predacons Rising & 1 Month post RID15 Finale [A Personal Rewrite/AU Of the TFP Kids Post TFP/RID]

Jasper, Nevada has become a quiet place for Jack, Miko and Rafael after their final goodbye with team Prime, and with Ratchet, when word that the Medic was needed reached their comms.

For the next 3 years, it was relative radio silence. No news from Cybertron, though they tried to reach out. They sent so many transmissions to their friends, yet not a single one returned to them.

Almost as if something blocked them from them, like something didn't want them in contact.

So, in the absence of their friends, their robotic family they had loved so much, the trio of kids put their all into making them proud.

They spent every day they could at Hangar E, and every year, on the anniversary of their departure, they would visit the old Outpost Omega-1.

They would hold hope for their friends to reach out, someday.

They had to...right?

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Miko dove head first into combat training, thanks to some strings pulled by Agent Fowler. When she wasn't sparring on a mat with her teachers, she was in the hangar, cheered on by Raf and Jack as she learned to translate those moves into the Apex Armor.

After some convincing too, of her parents when she turned 18, and some more strings pulled by Fowler, Miko made the base her home, and lived in Jasper full time. She'd even had her cats brought over from Japan, a fact that made her stay in the hangar less lonely, though she'd spent many dinners at Raf and Jack's homes regardless.

She'd trained her abilities in battle to a fine tuned machine, hoping for the chance to make Bulkhead proud when he walked through the groundbridge someday. Even took to a video diary, to catch him up on everything that had happened since they'd left Earth.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Rafael excelled in his studies to little surprise of many of the others in his presence. The young boy seemed to have matured overnight, and after a letter from Fowler to some colleagues in some colleges, Raf was skipped up a few grades, and was even taking some college courses online, to further his computing knowhow.

Taking up robotics as a hobby mostly, Rafael upkept the remaining Cybertronian tech left by their robotic team members. He remembered every lesson from Ratchet, and from the many times he also tried to help with Bee's voice box, so it was of little surprise to the team when Raf not only upkept but upgraded their base's tech. No better wifi could be found in Jasper, and access to every show they wanted was at their fingertips.

Still, Raf missed Bee, especially after seeing every transmission they sent go unanswered. His best friend had promised to visit, to write them back, call...had...he forgotten them?

He hoped not. Raf could never forget the scout, the one who'd help Raf find his own voice, among the chaos of his own home and family life.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Jack changed the most and the least at the same time. He was still a gentle and quiet soul, but he was fiercely protective now, of Miko and Raf. He dove into his studies, and even skipped a grade, to the surprise of his mother. Studying under her even, Jack learned medical care for his loved ones behalf, especially with all the bruises Miko returned with after her sparring lessons. He joined, once in a while, when he had the energy to, but his energy had shifted to making sure both of his teammates were ok. For his 18th birthday, his mother surprised him with a real motorcycle of his own, after seeing how much he missed Arcee and their rides around Jasper. And Agent Fowler, who had begun dating June at this point, helped hook up Jack with a job alongside him, mainly harmless paperwork, but it would pay better than slinging burgers at KO Drive Inn did, which he appreciated.

His free time was often spent fixing up his bike, and riding out far, along the routes him and Arcee would take. He really hoped their messages would reach them someday.

-0-0-0-0-0-0

Added Notes

Takes place 1yr after the ending of RID15/it's finale

June and Fowler got married by the time Jack is 19, which Jack actually was happy about, even if it shocked him a good bit at the start that they did begin to date.

Rafael has been checking every cryptid sighting website he used to, searching for any hint that Team Prime has come back.

Knockout has been, unbeknownst to Cybertronians and humans alike, been sneaking to Earth via rogue groundbridge of his own. It was where he lost Breakdown, and he continues to race still there [Yes this is bc of RID's use of his car model]

The kids came into contact with the Rescue Bots at some point, and they too have had issues contacting Cybertron, something that they tried to work on together but it did little in the end.

The 'Autobot' High Council had put a ban on travel to Earth, and had erased the coordinates from most databanks, as well as disrupting transmission from the kids to team Prime.

Crown City is located California for this AU

Outpost Omega-1 has been abandoned yes,the kids mainly use Hangar E, but regularly visit the old base since it's destruction.

[silentmagi]

MD AU idea: originally these were two ideas but they kinda slammed together eventually

Cyn, in a desperate moment, and using the solvers connection to matter while it is focused on its conquest of earth, takes the brain mapping of tessa and yeets it off….the data lands in uzi’s unn pod, meaning now….the gal gets a twin, meaning nori and kahn get to raise two lil gremlins

Years later, the two of them work on a more intensive project then uzi’s railgun (though tessa would correct her that would be technically be a laser gun, she of course gets a “bite me and also it sounds cooler!” in response) and they just need a power source. The project? A time bomb…with sneaky placement and some work, they manage to get it to work…tessa wait…tessa why did the murder drones become workers…tessa why do they know you, why do they look like they know the horrors, tessa I know you talked about being a human I thought you were joking.

Aka tessa gets an upgrade in parents and shenanigans unfold in the past/present due to her involvement

Series: Murder Drones AU Criteria: Tessa is sent out into the cold cruel universe, and lands upon a bright dot of hope. AU title (optional): Tessa Doorman

The night of the Gala, just before the final snuffing of her life, Tessa is pulled from her flesh and bones, and sent out into the universe, where it lands in an UNN and creates the first unplanned twin egg. Even going over the footage, they cannot figure out how the egg split in two and formed twins. That… that should not happen.

Nori and Khan both get themselves and their babies checked over by the best technicians they can find, and everything seems fine, so they continue. After the arrival of the murder drones, the pair start working on projects together.

The main project, the Temporal Implosion Munitions Experimental Bomb (TIME Bomb) they plan to wipe out the murder drones for once and for all. Why yes, that is them both cackling like mad women, it happens.

After accidentally setting it off in a section of the Outpost, their lab has air filters and many blast doors, they wake up blinking at each other. Uzi doesn't look different, however Tessa… Tessa is fleshy, and… okay, maybe making that space suit functional wasn't as low priority as Uzi thought. They were probably grounded until the end of the universe.

Oh, Yeva and Nori are alive again… and they have four drones… why do they look familiar? Sheepish smile. Hello Tessa. We have. Much to talk about.

[poppiqclown]

PQ leader of the BIZZIE GUILD!!

for my GGG inspired TTRPG game, I wanted to include the Bizzies, but in a new way. so I made a self insert “guide NPC” as a sort of “Scout troop” leader. They’re a very large and parental Bizzie who uses their epithet “Merit” to make special magic patches for the bizzies and the party, enchanting them and any items they place them on.

Merits are my in game description of upgrades and leveling up.

PQ, after escaping the old lands years ago with a small group of bizzies, decided it was time to make a NEW name for the bizzies as a whole. everyone saw them as useless or annoying, like vermin! So PQ made the guild as a hands on way for bizzies to learn more about the world and to become useful, or find their purpose in their own way, with healthy guidelines. There’s many outposts in the new world that are run by special volunteers, and watch over and teach up to 20 bizzies each, and give out badges for good jobs! the badges can be for literally anything. From helping old ladies cross the street, to just opening up a banana real nice. Any thing that helps show the bizzies that they’ve done good things!

PQ herself drives everyone around in DA BIZZIE BUS, and stays in the bus most of the time. does she have a tragic backstory that May or may not get touched upon in game? Maybe…. Will I post any sketches of it here? ABSOLUTELY.

I’ll just consider this a bizzie sona of somekind. LOL

[eqt-95]

💛 for the love of god

it took a minute to think of a concept for this one, but just know your 'ask' timing was perfect.

💛 reunion kiss / relief

- - - - - - - -

On rare occasions, Lena would default to her most recent takeout order and find ten pizzas delivered with no Kryptonian stomach to eat them. This was how a new tradition started whenever Kara was off-planet. Instead of sister night, Lena had Alex, Kelly, and Esme over to binge on too much pizza and ice cream while playing round after round of Candyland and UNO. 

As Esme got older, the games got more complicated. Kelly politely bowed out, choosing instead to tuck into the couch with a good book while the other three hashed out whether Alex was allowed to build a settlement one road segment away from Lena’s. 

She was not.

Slowly but surely, the competition grew so fierce that they elected to find activities no one was any good at. First it was bowling, then miniature golf, then a pasta-making class. She learned to fill her time; to keep busy; to reinforce existing friendships.

Sometimes Kara’s trips would last weeks. Sometimes longer. On those occasions, Lena would find herself going out with Nia and brainstorming new ideas with Brainy. When those weren’t enough, she spent her evening checking through the calculations on the latest upgrades to Kara’s suit.

Just to be sure.

Just in case.

Just so Lena could sleep through the night.

This was the life of being married to an intergalactic-traveling superhero.

Which was why it came as a bit of a shock when Brainy was contacted by a twelfth level intellect from the future with a problem. A problem that Brainy couldn’t fix alone. A problem that required the help of Lena.

“How long?” Kara asked, her pacing taking a toll on the stone flooring.

“Brainy thinks just shy of a month,” Lena said. She was neck deep in research, having spent the last twelve hours sifting through the transmission sent through time and space to them. “But neither of us will know until we get there.”

“A month?” Kara gawked. “An entire month?”

“Darling, we’ve been apart for longer,” Lena said with the distracted focus that meant she was not seeing the look of distraught despair on Kara’s face. Nor did she see the pout slowly forming on Kara’s lower lip. 

And so Lena left for charts untraveled and paths unseen. Her and Brainy arrived and time ceased to exist: meals and sleep were foregone while they dove into the problem (a minor issue with the space and time continuum brought on by a narcissistic giant of a prince from the Promethean Galaxy with a knack for tinkering with the past) alongside the tentacled-inhabits of the plant. Days passed, then weeks. Only one minor setback left them scrambling, but the tiny light at the end of their intergalactic-ending dilemma was glowing bright and strong and-

An explosion shook the building. Tables were rattled, lab equipment crashed to the floor, and it was all Lena could do to stay standing. Clinging to the table, she glanced toward Brainy who was struggling to keep a pile of samples from tumbling into disarray.

“What was that?” 

“It would seem the south wall has been penetrated.”

“The what-?” Lena asked, racing toward the window overlooking the base camp. And sure enough, a stream of smoke was rising from the tiny outpost. “Are we under attack?”

“I would put those odds at 74%.”

“But what would-”

“Code Meteor!” 

Brainy and Lena both turned to find an armed guard burst through the door, panic-stricken and out of breath. “ I repeat, Code Meteor,” he huffed, his tentacles gripping the doorway for support. 

“Code ‘what’?” Lena asked. 

The answer came as “Shelter in place!”

And then he was gone.

“Well, that has certainly put, as you say ‘a wrench in our plans’,” Brainy noted. “Shall we?”

Three more crashes could be heard, each one closer than the last. Brainy has broken into the surveillance system, but it seemed the initial attack had severed whatever streaming connection existed.

“It is quite surprising they still haven’t integrated a second line of defense for this. Especially after the attack of Cyborgs in-”

“Brainy,” Lena interrupted. Fear dripped into her voice, her knees were held tight to her chest, and the table they were taking cover under did nothing to provide any sense of relief. “I don’t need a history lesson. I need to know if we’re about to die.”

“That is quite the hyperbole,” Brainy assured. “By my calculations, there is only a 38%-”

Another crash, now even closer, rippled through the structure.

“Hmm, make that 54% chance of dying.”

“Attack at will!” came a shout from the hallway, and Lena’s heart jumped to her throat. 

The ensuing sounds did nothing to help: A grunt of impatience was followed by the rattle of gunfire and the scattering of footsteps drawing nearer and nearer. Lena swallowed against the knot in her throat, feeling a wave of dread overcome her. She looked for a weapon - any weapon, and found a screwdriver.

After everything, this was how she would die - by a random attack on some random planet in a galaxy that wasn’t even her own. Worse was that Kara wasn’t here.

“Brainy, Brainy,” she stammered. “I need that.”

She ripped the computer away from him and started typing madly, hoping there was enough time to connect; to see Kara’s face; to say goodbye.

The door burst open and smoke infiltrated the space. It was too late; her fingers weren’t fast enough; the connection was too slow; it was too late-

“Guys, this is really - ooph - eelly unnessessry.”

Lena froze.

“Flank her from the left!” came a commanding cry. More gunshot. More grunts. More body parts hitting body parts.

“Mm oht - ere - oo hur yoo,” the voice came again. The muffled but all too familiar voice that drew Lena out from under the table and toward the cloud of smoke. “I yust - wan oo see - my wie!”

Only then did the silhouette appear. It was a silhouette Lena would recognize anywhere, even if it was being attacked by no less than ten leg-sized tentacles. 

“Kara?” Lena asked.

“-Ena?” came a voice from beneath the coils of appendages.

“What… what are you doing here?”

“I issed yoo.”

“Darling,” Lena sighed, a smile spreading where fear had stood moments earlier.

“Ma’am, do you know her?”

She could only nod and close the distance between them. The guards seemed to understand and withdrew their tentacles of rope, and slowly but surely, Supergirl was unraveled from the slimy layers of them.

“I missed you too,” she continued, then wrapped her arms around Kara’s shoulders and drew her into a hug. 

“You were just gone for so long and I don’t know how you do it. How do you do it?” Kara rambled into the crook of Lena’s neck. 

Lena could only chuckle and pulled Kara tighter against her. “A lot of practice. And a lot of leftovers.”

“Does this mean you’ll forgive me?” Kara sighed.

“Well first, could have just called,” Lena huffed, pulling back to see the expected pout and look of apology. “And second, you’ll need a shower, because this won’t do.”

“Fair.”

“And you’ll need to stick around and help fix everything you damaged-”

“But I was being really careful!” Kara huffed. “It’s not my fault they started with the guns and slime!”

“Then, after all of that,” Lena said with an arched brow that left no room for debate, “Yes, I suppose I can forgive you.”

And the pout became a grin, and Lena couldn’t resist leaning in to capture her wife into a ‘premature’ reunion kiss.

- - - -

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