#most being in stasis as it's not the right time for them yet it's not the stars must align

[writeouswriter]

Psychically deduce what books I randomly own stacked up in piles in my room and the back room and tell me which one to read next, I have the decision making capabilities of someone who is not good at making decisions nor analogies

[londonspirit]

Our Flag Means Death’s season-two finale has it all. There’s a declaration of true love between our favorite criminals, Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) and Ed, a.k.a. Blackbeard (Taika Waititi). There’s also a heartbreaking death (RIP, Con O’Neill’s Izzy Hands), a pirate wedding that ends with the words “You are now officially mateys,” and some big-time fight scenes. “Mermen” packs a tight punch in only 30 minutes. The episode is both thrilling and satisfying, so even if Max makes the grave mistake of not renewing the series, fans will feel closure in a way that they didn’t with season one’s sendoff. And Our Flag Means Death creator David Jenkins already has some fun ideas brewing for a third season (and beyond!). The A.V. Club spoke to Jenkins about his plans to evolve Ed and Stede’s relationship, potential spin-offs, and how everyone on the show is handling its passionate fanbase.

The A.V. Club: First of all, how dare you kill Izzy Hands? Was that always the plan when you mapped out season two? 

David Jenkins: [Laughs] Yes. I felt that Izzy had reached a point where he broke through a lot of his major patterns. It was fun to give him a season where he got to do everything and where Con O’Neill got to do everything. Well, I won’t say everything, because Con can do light years beyond what I think he can do, and I do think he can do anything. We wanted to show the depth of that character. Izzy is one of my favorites. He’s like middle management who is in a sort of love triangle [in season one]. He got his wish at the end of the first season by breaking up his boss and his boss’ lover. He got punished as a result, and he had to come out on the other side, which felt like a good journey.

AVC: Despite everything that happens in season two, including Izzy’s death, the finale ends on a happy note with Ed and Stede living together. Why was it important for you to show that?

DJ: Season one ends on such a tough note for them. As you said, after what they’ve been through, they should get a moment of happiness. I won’t say however fleeting. They are going to have challenges ahead. They’re both not the most mature yet. I think that’s the fun of it, to leave them in a place where it’s a good kind of stasis. They’ve sent the kids off in the car, so to speak, and now they’re going to have to really grow if they’re going to start an inn. It won’t be easy, but I like that they’re going to try.

AVC: “Mermen” has all the elements necessary for a season finale. Did you partly add all that as a way to provide closure in case this is the end for OFMD?

JD: What’s important to understand is that you never even know if you’re going to get a second season. Maybe if you get picked up for two right away, and even then, but especially right now, who knows? I think with season one’s end, it was a gamble to leave it the way it was. Everybody stomached through it. Now if it turned out they didn’t want us to make more, I just didn’t want to have another story where the same-sex love story ends in tragedy, unrequited love, or if one or both of them are being punished.

AVC: I actually love that about Our Flag Means Death. It reminds me of Schitt’s Creek in a way because the love story just exists and is perfect; there’s no questioning it as right or wrong.

JD: That’s such a nice compliment because I also think Schitt’s Creekdoes that really well.

AVC: You’ve previously said you want Our Flag to have only three seasons. Is that still true or do you feel like the show has scope to continue beyond that?

JD: I feel like Stede and Blackbeard’s story is a three-season story, but the world of the show could go beyond that. It’s a really rich world with so many stories to tell and really good performers to tell it. I do want to see how Ed and Stede become a mature couple in the next season. They’re a couple who is like in their late twenties right now as opposed to being teens at the end of season one.

AVC: So if OFMD continues in some other form, are there characters you’d like to focus more on or other historical references you’d like to include?

JD: Yeah, a lot, because it’s such a rich ensemble. How do you not want to see more of Joel Fry, Samson Kayo, Ewen Bremner, Nathan Foad, or Vico Ortiz? Any one of them could carry their own show. It’s fun to think about that and the storylines we can do with them, mixing and matching all our characters. Vico is incredible, for example, and I especially love watching them in an action sequence. This is a weird comparison, but there’s a Harrison Ford and Sigourney Weaver vibe they put out. I’m such a fan of what they do.

AVC: You also really like parallels and coming full circle as a storyteller.

JD: Yeah, I do.I knew I wanted to start season two in the Republic of Pirates and end by coming back there. Stede goes on an amazing journey between the episodes. He’s thrown out of there initially, but then he comes back as a hero. I like the symmetry of that. And then the Republic of Pirates gets destroyed; it dies. It’s not just Izzy; it’s the place too. It was important to have a home, this stronghold for everyone, be destroyed. But the characters are not crushed. They’re going to try to move on.

AVC: One of season two’s new characters is Zheng Yi Sao, played by Ruibo Qian, who quickly becomes an integral part of the crew. What was the casting process like for her?

JD: Ruibo is an amazing find. One of our incredible casting directors, Cindy Tolan, she had Ruibo in mind immediately for that part by the time it got to her. And we had looked and looked before talking to Cindy. Ruibo has her own fascinating story because apparently, she had a couple of strong premonitions that she’s going to play Zheng Yi Sao. She had a modern take on the part without it being strained. She’s incredible. She’s a trained theater actor with a lot of chops. She has to go toe-to-toe with Taika and Rhys. She did it with such grace.

AVC: Season two takes Blackbeard on an interesting turn of denouncing being a pirate. But in the finale, it’s almost like he’s reborn as one, especially with that gorgeous shot of him coming out of the water. What was the thought process behind this arc?

JD: Thank you. Blackbeard is a guy in recovery when he comes back to the ship when he’s wearing the jumpsuit. He’s trying to hang on and find some kind of footing. Who is he if he’s not a pirate? Meanwhile, Stede is on his way up and wants to experience the rockstar life of a pirate, while Ed as Blackbeard is over it. It was an interesting tension of, which one gives up their dream? A lot of times in relationships questions can come up, like who is going to give up on their dream to take care of the kids? Obviously, no one wants to, but someone ends up giving up more than they want to at some point. What’s wonderful about a mature romance, and what I’d want to see more of in season three, is Ed and Stede making these tough decisions.

AVC: Stede and Ed’s relationship has led to a passionate, vocal fandom, which you didn’t have as you were writing season one. While working on season two, how did you avoid doing fan service and focus on meaningful storytelling?

JD: I never anticipated the strong reaction to season one. It’s incredible it happened. Everybody is buoyed by it in the cast, crew, and the writers’ room. To be perceived on that level with such enthusiasm makes us want to make more of it. A lot of the things the fans love are not different from things the writers love. We are fans of the show. We’re writing fanfic, but it’s called fic when we write it. The big thing for us is to make sure we’re writing beats for the characters that feel true and have moments where all of us go, “Ooooh, we have to do this.” If the beats stay true, it won’t feel like we’re simply pandering.

AVC: How do you break down those beats for Ed and Stede’s relationship as they go from wanting to take it slow to sleeping with each other this season? And where do they go next?

JD: It’s challenging with them because most rom-coms end with couples getting together. They don’t then stay with them and say, “We’re together now, but it’s turbulent; how is that going to work out?” We thought, “Okay, let’s look at our relationships in the room. What have we encountered? Who’s been dumped? Who has had to forgive somebody?” These questions were fun for the second season. I think for the third, it would [be], “Okay, who’s had a relationship for over 10 years? What things do you have to work on?” It’s fun to watch two people like Ed and Stede go through this experience.

[beanghostprincess]

Weird self indulgent bullcrap but hear me out okay-

Seraphim Buggy.

The strawhats get to Egghead and there's so much going on, it's wild and crazy and things start calming down after a bit, but then one group manages to find a tube in the far back. Luffy is staring HARD at the little body, battered and bloodied, white hair floating like a curtain in the solution, but the round red nose is a huge give away. He recognizes that nose. He recognizes that face.

"Is that... Buggy?" Nami is confused, hesitant. Zoro frowns at the tube, at the injuries on the child's body, bruises and scrapes and filth.

Luffy is silent before he hauls back and punches the tube with a Haki coated fist. The others yelp, scold him, Chopper shrieks bc they don't know if that will hurt the kid, but-

It doesn't even crack.

They stare.

Franky and Chopper dive to the control panel to try releasing the child, while Luffy is still staring at the unconscious body. Usopp is equally quiet, both assessing and reaching out. They know Buggy in varying amounts, but absolutely nothing about this kid feels Right. There's a wickedly sharp undercurrent, even unconscious, that makes even Luffy wary.

They get him out, he's still unconscious, but he's safe. Chopper begins working on patching his wounds up, and midway through the kid's presence locks down to near nothing before white-gold eyes snap open. Luffy meets the gaze easily, inclines his head slightly, seeing the minute tension the ripples across the tiny clown's frame. S-Buggy blinks for a moment, then reaches out.

Luffy let's him touch the hat.

The kid is silent for a moment before he croaks a soft "bro...ther..."

They take him with them. Over the course of it all, they find out why the kid was locked away in stasis, learn just what they released from the tube, but the little seraphim is so taken with Luffy and is so happy to just cling and be clung to that they have issues believing that THIS is the demon the others were mentioning, the monster that had been locked away for everyone's safety. It doesn't help that this is BUGGY and any iteration of the clown being powerful just seems ridiculous.

Then something happens. And little S-Buggy causes a near apocalyptic level of damage.

None of the crew is killed in the rampage, none so much as injured by the little jester boy, but it begins painting things in a new light.

By the end of it all, as they're leaving, Luffy tells the crew to contact the Cross Guild. "A pirate ship isn't safe for kids," he says with finality. They nod. He keeps S-Bug distracted, they actually make efforts to AVOID fighting, miserable though it leaves some, and they soon meet up with the Guild.

"Uncle," Luffy calls out, shocking everyone in earshot, especially when Buggy greets him back.

Luffy knows a lot more about Buggy and Shanks' childhoods than most do, pieced together from times when he was small and begging Shanks to bring him with the crew, when he and Buggy had time spent together, especially on the way to Marineford. So when he saw this like Seraphim, felt the Haki, saw the damage, he knew this was out of his wheelhouse. He was going to be King of the Pirates, not because he idolized Gol D. Roger, but because he was going to be better than him.

By Davy Jones as his witness, he would be better.

Buggy is mildly annoyed, confused, exasperated, but then Luffy meets his eyes dead on, steady, and says "He hasn't learned control yet."

And suddenly, Buggy understands. He winces. Hisses through his teeth. "Fuck."

"Yeah."

"No Red, then?"

"No. But he saw my hat, called me brother."

"Fucking hell."

"A ship is no place for a kid," Luffy says, voice surprisingly mature to most who know him. "But an island..."

"Yeah," Buggy sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Shit. Yeah, an island is safer. Has he imprinted?"

"I dunno, but he's pretty docile if there's no perceived threat."

Buggy groans, but opens his arms to take the child, giving the kid warning of touch, an open offer. The little seraphim hesitates for a moment before diving towards the older pirate.

Crocodile, Mihawk, and the strawhats all watch on in varying stages of confusion while the two captains talk.

There are many questions to be asked, curiosities to be quenched, but for now? Karai Bari offers docking overnight, and a new resident is welcomed to the island.

Right now I can only think about,, How cute a seraphim Buggy would be,, And also, Buggy and Luffy's relationship here?? My beloveds 😭 Everyone is so confused and doesn't understand why they know so much about each other and get along so well because Luffy is the master of never talking about his past unless he's asked,, Really happy this little Buggy can be with Buggy, though, always saying Cross Guild as dads with the Seraphims is an amazing concept.

[in1-nutshell]

Being Swerve's older sibling and reuniting with Swerve

SFW, familial, platonic, Cybertronian/ Bot reader

MTMTE

Part 2 of 2

Part 1 here

Part 3 here

Now present time.

Buddy was very much alive.

They had been ambushed by a team of Decepticon. They managed to get off the ship using one of their escape pods while everyone was recharging. However, Buddy accidentally put themselves into stasis lock entering the escape pod. By the time they did manage to get out of stasis lock, the war was over. They didn’t know that yet. They try contacting anyone on their team, but no one answered.

Then Buddy tries their deep space channel. Come to find out there was an overwhelming number of messages from Swerve Buddy decides to listen to them one by one after realizing that they would be waiting for a while.

They are tearing up hearing their brothers’ struggles and hearing how much had happened over the war and its ending. They eventually reach to the most recent messages and nearly breaks into a violent sob hearing what had happened in the Swearth incident. Buddy just wanted to hug all the sadness from Swerve when they got to him.

Buddy sets to work on a destress beacon after the last message finished. They eventually get a beacon operational and wait.

Rodimus gets a distress pod signal not too far from where they were alert and immediately turns the ship. Once the ship reaches the pod the bridge is connected. In enters Buddy in all their huge glory. They are dented, scratched and in terrible need of a new paint job.

Rodinmus and Magnus are a bit in awe at Buddy’s size but welcome them.

“Welcome to the Lost Light stranger!”--Rodimus

“No thank you for helping me from that pod. I’ve just learned I’ve been there so long I missed a good chunk.”--Buddy

“Don’t worry we will help you get situated with current affairs. And its good to see you soldier.”--Magnus

“Thank you, Ultra Magnus, sir.”--Buddy

Magnus does his part in catching Buddy up with what is going on since they were inside the pod.

“So, Megatron is an Autobot now?”--Buddy

“Yes, he is and is also the Co-Captain of the Lost Light.”--Magnus

“…Sir, are you saying that Megatron is on the ship right now and is sharing Captain duties with Rodimus?... who thought that was a good idea?”--Buddy

“It is a question I ask too many times on this ship.”--Magnus

Buddy listens and silently compares notes with what Magnus was telling them and Swerve’s messages. Thanks to Drift and Ratchet, Buddy ended up with a clean bill of health and a new paint job. Rodimus offered to give them a tour around the ship which Buddy agreed. Buddy hears about Swerve’s from Rodimus.

“Wait! Did you say Swerve’s?”--Buddy

“Yeah it’s a pretty cool bar—”--Rodimus

“Show me the bar.”--Buddy

Rodimus doesn’t think too much of it. He thinks that Buddy is in desperate need of a drink and shows them the way. Buddy has some bots turn around admiring their sheer stature. Meanwhile Buddy was silently buzzing wanting to see Swerve.

Word eventually reaches the bar about some new bot joining the ship. Swerve doesn’t think too much of it as he is trying to cut Tailbreaker off from the drinks again.

Swerve has his back turned when Buddy enters in with Rodimus. Buddy nearly breaks out into a sprint ready to collect Swerve into their arms, but they end up getting blocked by Whirl. He sees Buddy’s size and doesn’t think that it’s his old friend, in his head, a new bot equals a new fight.

“C’mon you giant piece of scrap metal, fight me!”--Whirl

“Whirl!? Oh my Primus it’s you!”--Buddy

“Yeah… OH! Buddy! You made it out of there alive after all! I knew you’d make it!”--Whirl

He launches himself sloppily at his long-lost friend. Buddy gives him a hug in return when they hear a gasp and glass breaking. Buddy and Whirl turn to see Swerve standing behind the bar holding what used to be a glass cup full of engex. Swerve literally leaps over the bar and sprints over to Buddy only to stop in front of them. Whirl lets go of his friend, letting the two siblings have their moment.

Buddy falls on top their knees and scoops up Swerve in a fierce hug and lets a little sob come out.

“Please tell me this isn’t a dream! Cause if it is I don’t want to wake up!”--Swerve

“Its not Swerve. Its not!”--Buddy

“Buddy!”--Swerve

“Swerve!”-- Buddy

Swerve was full on sobbing and blubbering against Buddy’s chassis, Buddy’s arms hid him from the rest of the bar. They were simply enjoying the fact that their brother was back in their arms again. Everyone was staring at the two, which made Whirl angry.

“Hey quit staring! Stare one more time and the last thing you’ll be seeing this claw for a whole decacycle!”—Whirl

When the two eventually calm down, Buddy introduces themselves as Swerves’ Big Sibling. There was much confusion in the bar. The main question being how were they even related to each other? Buddy was a cool member of the Elite Guard and Swerve was just Swerve.

“How are you even related?!”—Bot 1

“We just are?”--Buddy

“I don’t believe your related to Swerve.”—Bot 1

“Why not?”--Buddy

“Because Swerve is just a –Woah!”—Bot 1

“Choose your next words wisely. What were going to say about my brother?”--Buddy

“Buddy! Buddy calm down! Put the sword down!”--Swerve

Swerve doesn’t leave Buddy’s side for the longest time. Buddy becomes Swerve’s giant shadow. Even after a while on board and Buddy gaining new friends, they are never too far from Swerve.

[celluloidbroomcloset]

Hey there,

You’ve got a lot of insight into Ed and his whole journey from S1 to S2. Apologies if you’ve covered all this already (and I’m not the most articulate of people so also apologies for any confusion), but I’m interested in your thoughts…

I get the impression that a basic debate here is that either Ed is a psychopathic sadist (who basically ‘reigns in his sadistic tendencies’ until he loses Stede) or he’s someone struggling with his own self loathing and the toxic environment he’s had to live in (or maybe I’ve missed the mark entirely).

If it’s the latter, do you think he becomes at all vindictive in S2? Or is he more going through the motions of what he thinks is expected of ‘the pirate Blackbeard,’ because he’s somehow trying to cut off his emotions or is just tired of even trying to be anything else (ie himself) anymore? Or maybe it’s something else?

Also, to me personally it seems like Ed is stuck in… how to describe it… a depressive stasis at the beginning of S1, like at least resigned to death but doesn’t actively seek it until the end of S1/beginning of S2. I can’t decide though if in S2 Ed wants to take the crew with him (because that at least means not dying alone, like the mother and the cat in Crimes of the Heart), or if he doesn’t mind one way or the other what happens as long as he’s dead, or if the goal is to actively make the crew despise him because he thinks hatred and death are what he deserves?

Again, sorry if I’m beating a dead horse here…

Thanks!

So a lot of people have written a good bit about this. This is just what I think (and my thoughts may change—I'm planning on rewatching "Red Flags" today).

When we meet Ed, I think he is depressive and perhaps passively suicidal—he's talking about how the one thing he hasn't tried yet is death, but he doesn't seem to be really looking to die, and meeting Stede makes him re-evaluate the life he's been living and what he wants from it.

Stede and the space of the Revenge make Ed feel safe to express the parts of him that he’d concealed within Blackbeard in order to survive (the whole bringing out of his mother’s silk and Stede giving him the space to wear it openly on his heart). He tries to find this again with the crew after Stede leaves him, and it is Izzy who tells him that he is not safe unless he is Blackbeard (by directly threatening him and telling him that he would be better off dead than being the person he is).

I think a lot of what he’s doing at the end of Season 1 and into Season 2 is malicious compliance - “You wanted the caricature of Blackbeard, well HERE HE IS!” By the time we pick up with the Revenge in Season 2, he's moving from passive to active suicidality - he has been unable to correctly perform (Izzy invoking Stede and the fact that Ed's feelings are what have made the atmosphere on the ship toxic - quite literally his inability to conceal those feelings have poisoned everything around them, according to Izzy. Ed's feelings themselves are poisonous). Ed cannot reconcile his past with what he wants to be with who he is, and he has lost the safe space to be Ed.

I don’t think he wants to take the crew with him - his first move is to try to get Izzy to kill him; when that fails, he tries to get the crew to do it. If anyone actually just pulled a gun and shot him, he'd not try to stop them. He’s goading them until they’re forced into a space where they either have to die themselves or take the initiative and kill him (hence his “finally” right before his death).

Ed has been working to become all the monstrous/demoniacal stories about himself, the ones that have been told by the English and by his trio of monstrous fathers. He hates them but he also wants their approval, and he’s transforming himself into the monstrosity that others say he is. His love for Stede and the things that he was allowed to access via his relationship with Stede are the soft, genuine parts of himself that he has been told are not him but that he's also now incapable of concealing. He’s not worthy of that softness, he’s not worthy of love, and so he tries to kill it.

He’s going to die on Stede’s ship, with Stede’s cravat around his throat, murdered by Stede’s crew, as a final confirmation that all the things he wanted to be, and all the love he felt, he wasn’t really worthy of, that Stede was right to leave him because look at what he’s done, and that the people who loved him should never have loved him. He’s dying like all his monstrous fathers have died, murdered by people who once cared for him and whom he should have taken care of, but failed to because he's a monster.

[wildstar25]

Arsay Nun

B A S I C S

Name Arsay Nūn Nicknames None, her name doesn't shorten well (call her Ars and you will be on the wrong end of her blade ^^) Age ARR -> 22 (+5 years in lifestream stasis that Arsay is completely unaware of) Dawntrail -> 25 (+5 years) Nameday 3rd Sun of the Third Umbral Moon Race Miqo'te, "Greeter of the Star" (a.k.a: Keeper/Seeker mix [South Shroud/U tribe] ) Gender She/Her Probably non-binary but has a job so she ain't got time to worry about all of that... Orientation Bisexual, Polyromantic Profession Adventurer, Warrior of Light & Darkness, Scion of the Seventh Dawn, Full time kitty cat

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C  T S

Hair Midnight Blue with patches of red tip patterning concentrated around the back and sides of her head! Thick with the slightest bit of wave (often gets brushed out) Eyes Ruby Red Skin Very Light Olive with white facial stripes and darker pigmented nose. Tans well but never sticks for long. Tattoos/scars One visible scar on the cheek, multiple around her body which get glammed over. After endwalker, her right hand has a high concentration of scaring around the knuckles & palm (A consequence of her final fight in ultima thul and the proceeding surgery needed to reset the incorrectly healed bones.) She has various arcane geometric patterns marked into her skin in aetheric ink. One at the back of her neck, one on each forearm right above the inner elbow, one banded around her ankle. They are also glammed over to be invisible to the naked eye, but those who are well attuned to seeing aether would see them glow faintly as Arsay casts summoning spells.

F A M I L Y

Parents Sapir Nun & U'hbi Tia (deceased 1552, 6th astral era, killed in combat to the first wave of Garlean invaders in Doma)

Emrara Emra (Guardian/Adoptive Aunt, very much alive in the south sea isles)

Siblings Alphinaud and Alisaie (adopted younger siblings) Grandparents: Unknown and/or deceased In-laws and Other: G'raha (Husband), Y'shtola (Wife) Y'mhitra (Sister in law) Generally main scion members are family to her in different ways Cid and Nero (Weird Uncles) U'odh Nunh (unconfirmed but most likely half first cousin) (There are three female face 4 miqo'te in the U tribe and I HC that those three are the most closely related to Arsay's Dad in some way I've yet to really piece together.) Pets Couscous the carbuncle, Fish the Chocobo

S K I L L S

Abilities Physical: -Multiple Combat styles (Dual blades, Pole arm, Single blade, Hand to Hand, Marksmanship, Knife throwing) -Typical scouting techniques (invisibility, tracking, assassination, can move without making a sound) -Greater agility, dexterity, flexibility, balance, and strength -High Stamina -Strong Swimmer -Great Climber Magical: -Advanced Aetheric Manipulation (Elemental Conversion, Creation) -Summoning, Channelling (Dreadwyrm Trance available at moments notice) Other: -Knows how to sail a ship -Can navigate on land and sea without a map or compass -Can rally and inspire others to achieve great things together!

Hobbies: - Monster Hunting - Fishing - Frontlines - Crystalline Conflict (recreational league) - General exploring/mystery hunting&solving

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Her big heart! She'd do anything for the people she cares about Worst Negative: Terrible sense of self-worth. Needs to do things for other people or she goes insane with anxiety and guilt. Hates being looked after.

L I K E S

Colors: Red! Its her favourite. Smells: the ocean, the breeze through the forest, tropical zones with humidity in the air, her partners Textures: Furs, Leathers, Silky or soft textiles. Drinks: Spiced Chai, Coffee with Cardamom, Citrus of any type and Water

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: nope, the only smoke from her is her smoke bombs Drinks: only socially, and not a whole lot. Does not like feeling out of control of herself. Mount Issuance: Probably! Tataru would help her get it all set up at least Been Arrested: Almost but she always gets out of it UvU

Tagged by: @eriyu Thank you so much!! 💙 Tagging: @nivienne-grovant @baublegums @astraveil @yukupo-lalapo @eli-leam (and anyone else who wants to do it! I feel like I'm pretty late to the game on this lol)

[lets-try-some-writing]

This is a theory and you can take this as a grain of salt, since I know in grim dark archive au the story and headcannons will be completely different. I still can’t wait for the update 😉!

In grim dark archive, I can’t help but think there might a sprinkle of Papa Unicron au in this, except with much more darker implications. In this au, I feel that Unicron does care about humanity, but his feelings are more eldritich-like that would scare the cybertronians and even humans themselves. Think of it like this, since the beginning of the universe there were multiple forces that were chaos, order, creation, and destruction. Unicron and Primus weren’t the only powerful beings in the universe (I bet there were multiple more powerful cosmic entities), but since they were “brothers” and the antithesis to each other. They constantly battled each other for control and order (Primus) or for chaos and change (Unicron). Until Primus had the idea to create the cybertronians to defeat his brother. Meanwhile Unicron would devour planets to not only to gain more power, but to ensure his brother’s creations, don’t spread across the universe. The battle ended with both of them stuck in stasis as planets, while Primus was conscious and controlling the cybertronians, creating a caste system and keeping his favorites in power. Unicron was unconscious and his signals were kept low keeping him hidden from his brother. During his time being unconscious, cells come into contact with dark energon, did life on Earth began to take form. As humans began to evolve, Unicron was able to connect his mind to the billions of minds of the humans living on top of him, and experienced the chaos that happened daily to a human lifespan and how that chaos changes a person’s personality as they grow.

Without a rival to fight against or to subjugate Cybertron began to stagnate and looked within to sate those desires only to create a war that wiped out a huge number of their population and made the planet half dead. While across the galaxy Unicron is living through the lives of a billion humans on Earth.

The difference between the cybertronians and the humans, was that Primus created the cybertronians as tools with the intention of using them to carry out his will in the universe while Unicron unintentionally created humans with no other purpose than to live. To live vicariously through humans and experience their emotions of joy and anger, to feel what motivates them to keep fighting, how one’s own choices sets them on their own path in life, to feel the bonds of love hate, to feel the ravages of time as once strong bodies grow feeble yet wise from their own life experience. I could only image how pissed he would be if a creation of Primus tries to destroy what he sees an extension of himself.

You are on the right track with your idea here! The whole point of my Grim Dark Archives thing is to really drive home how ALIEN these robots are. Its not quite shattered glass, so Unicron is still not going to be the kindest of beings. But with that said, neither is Primus. Those two deities have an interesting attachment to their creations that walks the fence of actual parental affection and the care one would have for a favorite tool or toy.

One more little detail I will throw out is simply that Primus is not a particularly kind creator in this au. He is more than willing to fuel the fires of his will at the expense of another, especially those most loyal to him.

I hope to get back to The Grim Dark Archives soon, and when I do, I hope you like what I come up with!

[canyoufucksoniccharacters]

I am DEEPLY sorry about making you dive down this rat’s nest of a lore hole, but I’m back with another question that should be cleared up: Can You Fuck Shadow the Hedgehog?

I have a feeling this is gonna get complicated real fast…

I've had this one in mind for a while, so this shouldn't be all that hard to write.

CAN YOU FUCK: SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG?

...

YOU FELL FOR IT! YOU ALL FELL FOR IT!

To any reasonable person, Shadow should have been included in the Sonic post, alongside Surge, Mighty, etc. But you want to know why I didn't? Because if I did, it wouldn't give me the proper opportunity to rant about something.

SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG IS NOT 50 YEARS OLD. HE NEVER WAS, HE NEVER HAS BEEN, AND HE WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE.

This is a misconception that has permeated through the fanbase for Chaos knows how long, being repeated over and over and over again, ad nauseam.

Why do people even say this? Well, Project Shadow started 50 years before the event of Sonic Adventure 2. Which means Shadow's creation happened 50 years ago.

So, people take this as "Oh, Shadow was created 50 years ago, this must mean he's 50 years old!"

DO YOU PEOPLE NOT KNOW WHAT THE WORD "STASIS" MEANS.

During Sonic Adventure 2, Eggman breaks into a military base to unleash a "top secret military weapon" for his plans. This weapon, is, of course, shadow. The screenshot above is from the scene where Shadow is released.

What does this look like those particles are? What do they look like to you? Usually, thick white air particles like these are a result of the use of cold to pause biological processes. On top of that, the shot right before it displays the object atop the machinery pretty well, although with some distance.

This is a pod. Like, this is very obviously a pod. Shadow is even standing on top of it once he's revealed.

And what does he say when he's revealed?

Note how he says "Awakening". This is taken from a re-translation of the Japanese script, since the official translation makes him refer to being released as opposed to being awakened. Remember, translations for these games in this era were... Less than stellar.

(seriously, don't go there yet? to the guy telling you he shouldn't have ever been born? like maybe you're right maybe you shouldn't have been born but we don't know enough to say that for sure. ok, buddy)

So, yeah, Shadow isn't 50. I've been saving this for a standalone post, because it is baffling to me how people still keep spouting that "Fact" over and over, even though it makes no sense. He was frozen. He didn't develop mentally or physically. I'm not a Marvel fan by any means, but this is like if you added 66 years to Captain America's age because that's how long he was frozen. For these characters, if you just knocked them unconscious and then sent them to the future, it literally would not make even a bit of a difference.

He's not 50. Moving on.

Oh yeah, uh. That whole immortality thing.

(Source: Japanese dub, translated.)

Here and there, official material will mention Shadow as being "Immortal" or "Ageless". While never stated in the 2005 game, it makes complete sense, as Shadow was made with Black Doom's own genetic material. Black Doom is immortal, Black Doom's genes are in Shadow, thus, Shadow cannot die of old age.

There is, however, no implication that he does not mentally mature. In fact, it would make sense for him to start out quite young to then become more mature as time goes on, since part of the reason he was made was to accompany Maria, in a sibling-like relationship. Although it's unlikely that the Sonic Channel artwork is canon, most of it at least, it does convey a situation akin to this, which would be horribly out of character otherwise.

Look at em! They're doing their homework together! And then a few years later, after Maria's death...

Look at him! Using a minigun for the first time!

His maturity in SA2 also seems just about on par with Sonic's, so it's safe to assume that when that game happened, they were about even in terms of mental development. In general, Shadow is a Sonic counterpart. A very, very close counterpart.

... Very... Very... Ah screw it, let's just bite the bullet.

This happened! An entire Bumblekast episode dedicated to Sonic, Shadow, and mostly Sonadow. It's pretty recent, too! From 8 months ago! In fact, it was made for Pride Month 2023; after Frontiers released. So, Ian Flynn by then became not just a comic writer, but a writer for the games.

I'm not saying Sonadow is canon, obviously, but if the current writer of the games is willing to entertain it for an entire episode and even go as far as saying it's actually really easy to make happen and you don't need to do too much work for it to happen, then it's probably safe to assume the characters are on even ground in terms of maturity.

So, if Shadow can hypothetically, in a fully canon-compatible way, make out with Sonic, and Sonic is fuckable, then Shadow is, by extension, fuckable.

Honestly this is entirely longer than necessary. I could have brought this one up earlier and saved myself the work. Where's the fun in that, though?

Either way, verdict is;

You can, in fact, fuck Shadow The Hedgehog.

[lisimcpisi]

One thing I've always found interesting in Rescue Bots is how each of the bot's have gone to accepting their newfound life on earth. Despite all coming from the same circumstances (all being contained in stasis in the middle of space and being found by Optimus), they each have gone through their own process of accepting that they can never go back home and have a new planet and humans to protect.

Throughout most of the series Blades and Chase are pretty much good with Griffin Rock. In fact, they're pretty much thriving what with how enveloped they are with different aspects of human culture!

Blades is a total pop culture nerd. He loves watching movies, game shows, and cartoons. So much so that it even influences how he sees the real world (thinking that monsters are real and having heatwave hunt them for him). He's even involved on the internet and developed a fan club.

Chase, being a police bot, is extremely passionate about upholding the law and memorizing police codes. He even loves sharing his love for the law this boy hyperfixates to the ends of the earth its so charming. In the episode where everyone on the island starts singing Chase sings a whole song about different police codes and it'smhilarious. When Cody is trying to figure out what he should do for his Lad Pioneers Project, Chase creates a fake game show where he quizzes him on the law. All in all, Chase loves his job and loves learning about human law.

Heatwave, on the other hand, is a complicated case. It's clear that at the start of the series, Heatwave is dedicated to his mission and wants to make Optimus proud, but he is very frustrated by the circumstances he's being put under. He has to hide who he is and pose as an emotionless machine. His partner is selfish and takes all the credit for their rescue work. All the others seem to be content with what they have, but Heatwave isn't. He so much so desires to be a part of Optimus' team on the mainland so he can be part of the action (even though any decepticon could kill him in one shot). There's also been multiple cases where Heatwave requests him and the rescue bots to be reassigned to a mission off planet, much like when the first Morbot "replaces" them in Season 1. And yet despite it, towards the end of the series Heatwave definitely turns over a new leaf. He loves his family and partners, and will fight to hell and back to protect his home.

Boulder, imo, is the perfect medium between Blades/Chase and Heatwave. One of his most endearing traits is how much he adores Earth. Like, he is in LOVE with the place. Right when the bots first arrive on Earth, boulder remarks at how beautiful griffin rock is. One of my fave episodes with boulder is when he discovers a species of bird that was previously extinct and wants to try so hard to protect it from tourists. In the musical episode his entire number is just a love song to Earth and its so adorable. He also actively wants to be a part of the community. He offers people to ask him questions about himself. He does community gardening and tries to sign up for a library card. Though, with how much he loves Earth, there are times when we see he still grieves his life on Cybertron. On the episode where they celebrate All-Spark Day, Boulder looks back on the fond memories he had celebrating on Cybertron, and wants to share his culture with Griffin Rock. Surprisingly, Heatwave turns down the idea, saying that they shouldn't look back on the past and stay focused on their mission.

anyways those are just my thoughts on rescue bots. it's such a well written show and I could talk for hours about what I love about it!!

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Brief assessment of Maglor’s stint as king/regent while Maedhros was chained to Thangorodrim:

Not agreeing to Morgoth’s demands in order to get Maedhros back? Zero blame. It’s Morgoth. Morgoth cannot in any way be trusted. He’s going to break any deal he makes. The Silm explicitly states this (“the Sons of Fëanor knew that Morgoth would betray them, and would not release Maedhros, whatsoever they might do”).

Not rescuing Maedhros? Zero blame. There was no reason for him to think it was possible, and for most of that time it almost certainly wasn’t possible. Fingon succeeded because of 1) all the orcs and other creatures of Morgoth hiding inside Thangorodrim from the newly-created Sun and 2) Thorondor. Maglor didn’t have the former and, due to still holding to an oath that involved the committment and willingness to murder innocent people, probably wouldn’t have had the latter even in the very unlikely event it had occurred to him to ask. (Obviously, he still does get blame from me for the Oath.)

Not attacking Thangorodrim? He gets points for that, it would have been stupid to do so.

Not taking any action to explore Beleriand, make contact with other groups (Falathrim, Doriath), develop alliances with them, or really do anything at all that contributed to the Fëanoreans’ goals? That’s his key failure, that’s the part that makes him a bad king. (Granted there was no sun yet, but the Sindar managed without one for centuries.) It’s a wholly unnecessary delay. They’re in a fairly strong position as there’s not a lot of orcs at first (“from the [Dagor-Nuin-Giliath] returned of all the hosts that [Morgoth] had prepared for the conquest of Beleriand no more than a handful of leaves”), and they could have used that time to good effect rather than sitting around making no progress while Morgoth rearmed. Given that they had no reason to expect either the Sun or Fingolfin’s arrival, being locked into that kind of stasis is not a good indicator. It’s only after Maedhros’ rescue and abdication of the kingship to Fingolfin that “[the Noldor] sent forth messengers far and wide to explore the countries of Beleriand, and to treat with the people that dwelt there”. Fingolfin showing up makes a difference not only as reinforcements, but because he’s actually a proactive and intelligent leader.

(Bonus: Not abdicating to Fingolfin as soon as he arrives? I think that both morally and pragmatically it looks like the right call, except for the fact it would almost certainly have led to outright conflict between a Celegorm-led camp and Fingolfin-led one because I don’t believe Maglor had any ability to get his brothers to abide by it. But that lack of control over his brothers would also indicate that he’s a bad king.)

[starwarstbbfan]

Cold - Echo one-shot

Trigger Warning: Brief mentions of wanting to end it all.

This is a Echo one-shot that goes along with my story THE RUNAWAY. Takes place when Echo is still new to the squad, even though that hasn't happened yet in my story.

I apologize for not updating for so long, life got pretty stressful and stupid mental health got bad. But I'm slowly working on the next chapter and hope to have it out soon!

For now, enjoy this little one shot that I'm actually quite proud of! I dedicate this to @violetjedisylveon for giving me the idea for this one-shot!!!!

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Echo woke with a start, expecting to be back inside the stasis chamber that had been his prison for the longest time.

He'd had another nightmare. It was one of those where waking up seemed impossible and filled with droids that poked and prodded while masked people watched, showing no emotion even when the clone cried out in distress and pain. They did nothing, and it seemed the torture would never end. And even if Echo appeared to be shouting, no noise came from him, which made everything all the more terrible.

Heart racing and body coated with sweat, Echo did his best to control his breathing and hoped beyond anything he hadn't made any noise during his tortured slumber that would alert his new teammates. Though blood pounded in his ears, Echo strained to listen from his hammock for any sounds of anyone else waking up.

Thankfully, no one seemed to be awake. Wrecker's thunderous snores most likely drowned out anything, and the raging storm outside that seemed to never stop could have as well. For once, Echo was glad for Kamino's tumultuous weather. But the gratefulness was short lived as a shiver wracked his body, the parts that were human at least.

Despite being covered in sweat, Echo was cold, but it wasn't the type that could be fixed with an extra blanket. No, unfortunately this type of cold was internal, and no amount of blankets or warm drinks could fix it. His nightmares reverted him back to when he was nothing more than a cold slab of meat inside that chamber. He didn't remember much during that time, but one thing he was able to was the freezing subzero temperature.

When he woke up from the nightmares, he'd feel that same coldness again, how that was possible Echo wasn't sure. Maybe the cold, unfeeling cybernetics attached to him played a part who knows. Right now he wanted to rip them off, only he didn't have the strength or will power to do so. It would only draw attention to himself and he didn't want to wake anyone up, or if any of them were awake and merciful to pretend to not notice Echo's distress he didn't want to cause serious concern.

His teammates weren't naive though and Echo unfortunately wasn't the only one with mental scars that would more often than not disrupt sleep. It came with the territory of being a soldier. Sure they were bred for war, but not even the Kaminoans with all their brilliant minds and technology could 100% prevent an organic being from not having some sort of side effect from the harsh battles fought.

The enhanced group of clones had an unspoken agreement amongst themselves. They never spoke of the nightmares. It was easier to pretend they never happened, and they were too stubborn to admit to any sort of weakness. But it was mostly due to the conditioning of the Kaminoans, and the fear of being decommissioned if they appeared to be unstable even if the slightest.

Whispers about what happened with a clone named Tup had eventually reached the Bad Batch's ears, and the prevailing opinion had been that he'd snapped from the stress. However unlikely it seemed, since clones were technically supposed to be immune from that, it still struck concern into every clone and the Bad Batch were no exception though they of course never spoke of it.

Right now, Echo feared more than the rest of them of unraveling and being deemed unfit for duty. Almost every night was filled with kriffing nightmares, being only just shy of four weeks since his rescue. He still wasn't used to his cybernetics and more than once caught himself trying to use his right hand for things before realizing that he didn't have that appendage anymore. It was equal parts frustrating and embarrassing.

Sometimes, deep down, Echo would fight the dark thoughts that wished he'd never awoken from his stasis. That at some point his body gave out from all the experimentation. Or better yet, he'd actually died in that fiery explosion at the Citadel.

Right now, engulfed in the darkness of and trapped in his own mind, Echo wanted nothing more than just some relief from all this. At the very least, he wished to feel warm- feel like a human being again. It could be in his own head but anytime he touched his skin it still felt cold to the touch.

He thought about taking a walk, but was paralyzed and couldn't bring himself to move. Right now, Echo felt, for lack of a better word, broken. Broken.... and cold.

Echo was so immersed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice a pair of sharp glowing eyes watching him from across the room, nor did he see when those eyes came over to the hammock hanging a few feet above the ground.

Echo couldn't help the startled noise that came from his throat when a furry presence suddenly appeared on his stomach. Somehow the tooka completely avoided landing on a part of his body that wasn't robotic thus not knocking the wind out of him - though it was probably on purpose now that he thought about it.

"Get off, Scruffy." Echo murmered crossly, not in the mood to deal with the cat that was definitely against regulations. It was a wonder how the Kaminoans let the squad keep him. Or perhaps they didn't know. Either way, Echo wasn't fond of animals, having dealt with more than enough wild, dangerous ones in the past.

His protest was ignored however, much to his annoyance. Little paws jabbed into his stomach, ribs, and chest as they made their way up Echo's body, and little grunts of pain escaped the clone's lips as a result.

Echo wanted to shove the tooka cat off, but feared being bitten or scratched in retaliation. Even if Scruffy was tiny, who says the cat couldn't cause severe damage? Echo blamed Rishi Moon for his fear of animals. Seeing his brothers get eaten by those Rishi eels still haunted him among everything else.

Imagine Echo’s confusion when Scruffy hopped onto his head. What was the little rat doing?

Echo winced as he felt Scruffy's claws on his bald head, and the cat seemed to be moving in circles for whatever reason. Eventually, the weight settled and Echo felt soft fur instead of paws. Next, he heard a strange sound that came from Scruffy and sent vibrations down Echo's skull. He'd heard this noise before, now that he thought about it. When one of the others would pet Scruffy, he'd make the same sounds. Calli simply had to look at the cat and he'd start doing it. Purring I think Tech called it.

Oddly enough, Echo somehow found it soothing. That, coupled with the heat radiating from the small animal, Echo's eyes started getting droopy once more. The warmth brought on by the tooka/ minature space heater was a foreign feeling.

Even after being rescued he was still surrounded by medical droids that took care of him, and somewhere along the way Echo began to see himself as one as well.

Turns out he needed the touch of another living thing to remind himself that he too was alive and human.

Maybe having this cat around wasn't such a bad thing after all.....

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Hope you liked this!!!! I liked exploring Echo's mind a little bit, and getting into the trauma he's suffered. Echo deserves all the love in the world!!!

[heyclickadee]

Tech’s Alive, Part Five: I am aware that I am a clown but also! Short Term Possibilities and Long Term Narrative Questions:

So…I’m going to say something that’s probably going to be a bit unpopular. “Killing” Tech off is, or could prove to be, the correct narrative choice—in the short term. And I want to emphasize “in the short term” here. In the long term, or making it permanent, has the potential to break the entire show, and I’ll talk about why in the second half of this post. In the first half, though, I want to talk about how fake-killing Tech could potentially push both the story and the characters forward.

Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo:

From a practical standpoint, they’re going to have to make up for yet another missing skill set in their team after having never actually quite made up for the others. Tech’s the pilot, technician, and analyst, and on paper, those are all things Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo can do. Hunter isn’t as skilled a pilot as Tech, but he’s pretty competent; Wrecker doesn’t have Tech’s focus, but he is a skilled mechanic; and Echo’s excellent with technology (for reasons) as well as a brilliant strategist—a much better strategist than Tech really ever tried to be. On paper, the three of them do have the overlapping skills to make up for Tech’s absence. The thing is, they’re used to Tech being the one to do a lot of that, almost all of the time, and now they’re going to play his role as well as the roles they already have and the role they were already trying to make up for. And on top of that…Tech’s the one with the right combination of levelheadedness and total batshit insanity to get the team out of a tight spot and has, over and over and over again. That’s a thing that Wrecker, Echo, and Hunter don’t really have.

And this isn’t to say that missing Tech is going to be any harder than missing anyone else on the team. We’ve seen clone force 99 struggle for two seasons without Crosshair, and saw them struggle even harder being two men down without Echo. It’d be a struggle without any single one of them. It’s more that they’re going to have to adjust, once again, to not having someone on their team when they could actually really use him, and unlike with Echo, who they expected to get back, or with Crosshair, whose skill set wasn’t made up for by Omega’s presence and her own sharpshooting skills, but who did have someone who began to fill a similar role, Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo are expecting the gap Tech left behind to be permanent. And adjusting is going to be really hard for them.

And then, of course, there’s the way that this is going to push the three of them on a personal level. Echo has lost a lot—a lot—of brothers, so this isn’t necessarily new to him. It’s an old pain that’s just part of the background of his life. But that doesn’t mean it’s not going to hurt. It’s not necessarily going to be like losing Fives, but Tech and Echo were close. Tech was in the room when Rex pulled Echo out of that stasis chamber, Tech helped get Echo unplugged, he carried Echo out, was one of the people there helping Echo adjust after the most difficult time in his life, and for all their bickering, they were still pretty in sync with each other. They understood each other pretty well. It’s still going to be hard for Echo. And then Wrecker and Hunter—they’ve never lost a someone like this, that we know of. Maybe 99, but if they knew 99 personally, I suspect their relationship with him had a little more distance to it than their relationships with each other have. And, yes, they lost Crosshair, but with Crosshair they were missing someone who was very much alive and who (as far as they know) made the choice to leave and had the potential to come back at any time. Losing Tech is a bit more permanent—from their point of view, at least. And it has the potential to bring out a side of them we haven’t really seen before.

Wrecker’s been pretty easy going so far. Apart from the whole “Wrecker’s chip is activating” saga of the first half of season one, he hasn’t exactly had much in the way of character development. Not that there hasn’t been any, but he is probably the character with the least so far, and I think that’s because he hasn’t really had too much of an inner conflict. Oh, the Republic’s the Empire now? Well, sucks about the Jedi, but hey! Look at the armory! Ooooh, we’re going to grab this kid and we’re defecting now? Great! He gets to visit Cut, Suu, and the kids. We’re working as mercenaries for this shady Trandoshan grandma? Cool, let’s be mercenaries. Super secret mission from Rex to find information and blow open an imperial conspiracy? Awesome. Awakening the ancient horrors? All in. Retiring to Pabu? Cool, he’s going to become a pillar of the community, eat sushi, catch fish, and live his best life. This isn’t to say that he’s never bothered, because you just have to check out The Crossing and Retrieval for that. It’s more that he takes things in stride and is probably the best out of all of the boys at adjusting to new situations.

I…don’t think he’s going to adjust to this very well. He’s just lost family. He thinks it’s permanent. And you can’t tell me he’s not going to blame himself. Because, yes, Tech’s the one who shot the connection hinge through, but Wrecker’s going to see himself as the one who couldn’t get Tech up fast enough. He couldn’t hang on to Tech’s side of the rail car. I rewatched the scene (because I hate myself, I guess), and I don’t think Wrecker moves an inch after watching Tech fall. He’s frozen in that moment. You can’t tell me he’s not going to have nightmares about it. And that’s an inner conflict. That misplaced guilt is going to give him something to overcome and it could be really interesting to watch(1).

And then, of course, Hunter’s going to blame himself, too, because blaming himself for every little thing that goes wrong has been part of Hunter’s modus operandi since day one. It’s what he does. More importantly, though, this whole situation is Hunter’s nightmare scenario. They’ve lost every lead to get Crosshair back, Tech’s “dead,” and the most evil man in the galaxy has his daughter. This is everything Hunter’s been afraid of for two solid seasons. This is exactly why he was so hesitant to go back for Crosshair or come into direct conflict with the Empire and help Rex in the first place. And now that that shoe has dropped, I think we might be done seeing Hunter hesitate and take the back seat. And more than that, losing Tech specifically might be something that pushes Hunter into seeing that he and the regs have always been in the same boat, the same way Crosshair’s experience with the Empire did that for him. Now, I don’t think Hunter had quite the same defensive superiority complex about other clones that Crosshair did(2), but I do think he had or has a bit of a chip on his shoulder (probably mostly on his brothers’ behalf), and he doesn’t seem to think of other clones as brothers the same way that, say, Echo and Rex do. There’s a distance there. Losing a brother the way other clones do all the gosh darn time could be something that gets him to empathize more and see himself and his squad as part of them in a way I’m not sure he’s been able to do before(3). Is it a sort of awful way to gain that empathy? Yes, it kind of is. But it is still a way.

But, anyway, you know who else is living their nightmare scenario right now?

Omega and Crosshair:

Omega’s spent two seasons trying to have a family, getting closer to her brothers, and being terrified of ending up an experiment in a tube. And, due to the crazy series of events set off by Tech’s “death”, she’s just been ripped away from her family, lost a brother permanently, and is very much in a situation where there’s only Hemlock’s need to keep Nala Se happy keeping her from becoming an experiment in a tube. She’s dealing with a massive amount of loss and change and the only person she really knows in the whole facility is Nala Se, who I think does care about Omega in her own way, but probably isn’t going to be much help. This poor kid is not going to be okay.

And, frankly, neither is Crosshair. I mean, Crosshair’s whole deal over the course of this entire show is just him waking up thinking that maybe, just maybe, today might not be the worst day of his life, and somehow managing to be wrong every single time. He’s going to wake up again, see Omega next to him, which was exactly the thing he was trying to avoid and just got tortured over. Omega’s probably going to tell him that Tech died while they were on a mission to save him, which is exactly what he didn’t want, and given what we know now about how much Crosshair loves his family I think it’s safe to say this is all going to wreck him.

In a way, though, we have the perfect set up for Omega and Crosshair forming an actual relationship. They think of each other as brother and sister, and they care about each other, but they don’t really know one another. They’ve only interacted a handful of times, and Crosshair was unwillingly trying to kill Omega during two of them. But now they’re stuck in the same place with shared circumstances and a shared grief. Or—here’s some speculation—maybe even some wild shared hope that Tech somehow made it. Omega never had a chance to get past, “He’s not gone, he can’t be!” with Tech, and Crosshair’s going to be hearing about it secondhand; with him having known Tech longer than Omega did, did it’s possible he’d latch onto the idea that Tech could have thought his way out of it, or that it might not feel real to him unless he sees proof. Either way, it gives Omega and Crosshair something besides their current circumstances to bond over, and something they both understand, and which they can help each other through. This is actually one of the reasons why I’m actually kind of hoping that Tech isn’t in Mount Tantiss. Having Omega without the other brothers she already really knows and with just Crosshair gives her a chance to develop an actual relationship with just Crosshair, regardless of whatever shenanigans Emerie is trying to pull. Seeing Omega and Crosshair’s relationship develop is something I’ve been so wanting to see since episode one(4).

Tech:

If this is indeed a fake-out and a way for the writers to put Tech somewhere else for a while, there’s the potential for us to see Tech really struggle in a way we haven’t before. There’s the possibility that he’s going to be physically disabled after this, but whether he is or not, and whatever his circumstances, it’s something he’s going to have to deal with alone. At least, that he might have to do alone. I suspect that we’re going to find out Tech is a live well before any of the other characters do, if we find it out at all, and that they might not have a chance to reunite or even know about it until the end of next season or possibly even later, if there’s more seasons after that. And having Tech alone could be really interesting, because I’m not sure Tech handles “alone” much better than Echo does—though for very different reasons.

Clones weren’t built for solitude. And the other members of Clone Force 99, or most of them, were some of the only consistent presences in Tech’s life. A little like how I suspect Crosshair never really thought of himself as his own person, or even as a person at all for a little while, I’m not sure Tech really thinks of himself as his own man. He’s one piece of a uniquely mismatched set, and after this season, and especially after how badly he handled Echo leaving, I think it’s safe to say that Tech wouldn’t happily leave that set for an extended period of time under pretty much literally any other circumstances than the one in which he found himself in Plan 99. He’s dedicated to this family. Yes, the batchers all have vastly different personalities and strengths, but they’ve always been there, he understands them and knows how to be around them. I suspect that even in the happy version of this season where Crosshair is easily rescued, they all just stay on Pabu forever, and Tech and Phee get space married, Tech probably wouldn’t just run off with Phee and never be involved his siblings’ lives again. He’d still get up to shenanigans with Echo, bicker banter with Wrecker, be giving Omega flying lessons, etc. They’re his people, and he needs them.

Part of Tech’s arc in season two was learning about and exploring the galaxy in ways that weren’t defined by The War, and leaning into parts of himself that aren’t just a soldier(5). A fake-out death leaving Tech on his own for a little while could allow that to continue, but with the training wheels off, because he’s not going to have his people. Would he be trying to get back to his family the whole time? Oh definitely, yes. But it would be a long, hard road of discovery getting there.

So, in summary, a fake-out has the potential to shake up the status quo own push the characters and/or drive them to develop connections we haven’t seen before. Making it permanent, however, has every potential to break the show, and here’s how:

Narrative Questions:

Some of the best writing advice I ever got was to think of a story as an answer to a question. It doesn’t have to be a complicated question, but the story does have to answer it, and answer it in a satisfying way, in order to have a satisfying ending.

So, what are some narrative questions in Star Wars? Well, the narrative questions of the original trilogy seem to be: one, can this farm boy become a jedi; two, can the rebel alliance defeat the evil galactic empire; and three, can the dark side be defeated? And the answer to all three are, “Yes, and here’s how.” Or Rebels, which has pretty similar narrative questions: Can this street rat become a Jedi, how does the Rebel Alliance Form, and can this little family successfully fight the empire? Once again, the answers are a resounding, “Yes, and here’s how”(6).

Okay, so, what about some Star Wars that had a tragic ending? Because a story doesn’t have to have a happy ending to be satisfying. The narrative questions at the heart of both the Prequel Trilogy and The Clone Wars are, “How does Anakin Skywalker become Darth Vader?” And “How does the Galactic Republic become the Galactic Empire?” The three movies and seven seasons of television we got are pretty satisfying answers to those questions. Maybe a little clumsy in the case of the Prequel Trilogy, but it still gets there. Or Rogue One? That’s a movie with a tragic ending if there ever was one. But its narrative question had nothing to do with whether or not Jyn or Cassian or Baze or any one individual character would be okay; it was all about how there could ever be hope in the fight against an evil like the Empire, and what it would cost those people to bring that hope to the galaxy. And, of course, answering the question of how Leia got her hands on the Death Star plans in the first place. (And honestly, there are probably other narrative questions in these movies, but I am three-thousand words into this and it’s getting out of hand, so moving on)

With this in mind, let’s try to look at what questions The Bad Batch is trying to answer. As far as I can tell, there are four of them. And, in order of importance from least to most important, those are:

1. How and why does the empire go from using clone troopers to storm troopers?

2. Can this group of clones ever chose their own purpose, or are they stuck with the purpose with which they were made (can these characters ever choose to live the lives they want and be anything but soldiers/lab experiments made to fight and die)?

3. What does, “We don’t leave our own behind,” mean, and does it mean anything?

4. Can Omega’s family ever be complete?

Now, the first question is one that I think is operating a little bit like “How was the Rebel Alliance formed?” did for Rebels. It’s an important driver of the story, it connects to the larger Star Wars story, it’s a really important subplot, it’s almost definitely leading towards that clone rebellion we keep thinking is about to happen, but in the same way that Rebels was ultimately not about the Rebel Alliance and was instead about a young indigenous boy and his family liberating his home planet from a colonial power, this whole sub-plot in The Bad Batch is super important, but not ultimately the entire point. If it was, we’d be watching a show about Rex and his crew right now. It’s also the only one of these four questions that can have a satisfying answer if the writers leave Tech dead, because you don’t really need him for it. In fact, you don’t need ANY of the bad batch characters alive or otherwise to answer that question in any real way.

The other three, though? You really need Tech alive.

And not just because the answers to the other three would be, “No, they can’t,” “Apparently it doesn’t,” and, “NOPE,” without him. You can answer a narrative question in the negative or have a tragic ending and still have a satisfying answer. It’s just that in order to have a dynamic story you kind of need the apparent answers to those questions to change from the beginning of the story to the end, and the answers to those other three questions have always been negative from the very first moment of the show.

Can these characters every be anything but what they were designed to be? Anything but soldiers and lab rats, designed to fight and die? Can they ever be free? At the beginning of the series, the answer is no. The batchers, as well as the rest of the clones, begin the series as literal enslaved soldiers. They defect, they run, apart from Crosshair, who’s mentally enslaved by the chip at first, and they try to be free, but they spend the entirety of season one still being soldiers—just soldiers without an army or a cause. In season two, they start leaning away from it, and actually have a chance at peace. Crosshair rebels and does everything in the little power he has to put the soldier down for good. Echo’s not letting go of the soldier part, but he’s at least choosing what he wants to fight for, and that matters. Omega has a chance to just be a kid. And then, by the end of the season, Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo are back to the soldier thing and Crosshair and Omega are stuck as lab experiments. The answer is still no. And leaving Tech dead, especially since he would have died as a soldier after almost having the chance to be a bunch of other things, on a mission he pushed for, in a series of events that ultimately drives his family back into the lives they’ve been trying to escape? That means the answer will always be no; or, at least, a lukewarm, “Maybe, if they’re allowed to be.” And that’s as good as a “no” anyway.

What does “We don’t leave our own behind,” mean? Does it mean anything? Again, at the beginning of the series, it’s not clear it is anything but a broken promise. The boys didn’t know about Omega, but she was still left behind. They had to leave Crosshair behind because he was trying to kill them, and they had to leave him behind a second time, because he refused to go. Then Echo left them behind, sort of, because his definition of “our own”(8) is bigger than the batch’s definition, but with every intention of coming back. And then they had to leave Tech behind, because he made the choice for them. And it’s still just a broken promise at the end of season two. If Tech stays dead, after killing him on a mission where he invoked, “We don’t leave our own behind,” during which he forced them to leave him behind, and after which they had to leave Crosshair behind AGAIN after losing their only lead, it would remain a broken promise.

Can Omega’s family every be complete? At the beginning of the series, we find it never has been, not even before Order 66. Omega finds that family picture back in the bad batch’s bachelor pad, and it’s got all five adult batchers, but it’s not a complete family picture because Omega’s not in it. And then in the very brief times we have all six batchers in the same room at the very beginning and end of season one, the family is still very much broken. Then the show is pretty pointed about the absences on both sides in season two—Hunter and crew need Crosshair, Crosshair needs them. Echo leaves, and they fall apart. And by the end of the season? The answer is still no. Emphatically no; Echo’s back, they still don’t have Crosshair, Omega’s gone, Tech’s “dead,” and it looks hopeless. Leave Tech dead, after a mission he pushed for, and which was meant to finally reunite the whole family, and the answer will always be no, even once they get Omega and Crosshair back. They answer will not have changed from the beginning of the show(7).

And the thing is, the show is acutely aware that those last three questions are driving most of the tension, because the tension of whether or not those answers will ever change has been at the heart of the both season finales. And the characters almost succeed at changing one or more of those answers every time! They almost have a full family by the end of season one—but the timing isn’t right, everyone’s too angry and embittered, and they have to leave Crosshair behind and be incomplete again. They’re so close to free at the end of season two! Hunter can almost just be a dad! Wrecker can almost just live his best life! Echo can be a freedom fighter! Tech can be whatever the hell he wants! Omega can just be a kid! Crosshair’s rejected the Empire! They’re going to go get him! They don’t leave their own behind! It’s actually going to happen this time! And then—Plan 99.

Right now, just as at the beginning of the series, the answer to all three of those last questions is negative. Everything and yet nothing has really changed for our characters; they’re still soldiers, still enslaved, in a way, still experiments, still leaving their own behind, and still incomplete. And that’s fine for now—we’re only part of the way through the story. But the very end can’t leave them the same and still be satisfying.

And that’s the other thing—I trust this team of writers to give us a satisfying ending at this point. Just like the end of last season was actually kind of frustrating to watch in real time, but ended up incredible in retrospect because of how it lead into season two, I expect a similar thing to happen here. So, here’s to hoping!

(1): I know we’re all looking forward to Hunter entering his John Wick era, but I think we might be discounting how terrifying Wrecker grieving two brothers (Tech gone for good, Crosshair maybe alive but for how long) and out-of-his-mind desperate to find his baby sister has the potential to be. We only thought Wrecker was scary with a chip. Dude is gonna crack some stormtrooper heads.

(2): Or did he? I actually genuinely wonder about this. I’ve come to the conclusion that Crosshair’s superiority complex was more defensive posturing than anything else—more of a way to keep people at a distance than anything he genuinely thought, something he tried to convince himself of, because his words and his actions absolutely don’t match up. That doesn’t make it okay, just kind of layered and interesting. But it’s worth noting that the worst of what Crosshair says about other clones is framed as part of the galaxy’s worst sales pitch in “Return to Kamino”, and a sales pitch to Hunter more than to anyone else. It’s possible that Crosshair was calibrating his, “We’re not like the regs, we’re superior,” bullshit to appeal to Hunter, specifically. Now, the fact that this absolutely didn’t work on Hunter even a little bit tells us something. But so does the possibility that Crosshair thought this was a reasonable thing to say, and so does, “When did you start caring about regs?” I don’t really think Hunter had a superiority complex, but I do think he had something of a chip on his shoulder that Crosshair maybe blew out of proportion.

(3): Just to clarify: I’m not saying that Hunter’s a terrible person or anything here. I’m just saying that clone force 99 was ostracized and excluded from clone culture for a variety of reasons (resentment due to perceived special treatment, distrust due to perceived “defectiveness”/actual difference in a monoculture because, listen, the clones are by and large good people, but they are still PEOPLE and even good people have blind spots and being different even through no fault of your own in a monoculture even when that monoculture isn’t an extreme example literally made of clones and subject to the whims of a whole other society that actively practices eugenics on it is the social and sometimes literal equivalent of a death sentence), and that Hunter probably had a reaction to that. An understandable reaction, and one a lot less toxic than Crosshair’s, but one he probably still needs to get over.

(4): CROSSDADCROSSDADCROSSDADCROSSDADCROSSDAD

(5): Wacky thought, but here you go: I think Tech’s alive. I think he’s coming back. I think he’s absolutely still going to be himself when he does. I also think that Tech the soldier is what’s going to die on Eriadu. That’s something I don’t think we’re going to see again, not in the same way.

(6): I’ve always found it kind of weird that Rebels has this reputation for having a horribly sad downer ending when, at the end of the day, our rebels in question win. It has a note of bittersweet melancholy to it because Kanan dies and Ezra’s gone, but that’s not the only note there. They liberate Lothal without the help of the Rebel Alliance before the galactic civil war even starts, Ezra jedis so hard he’s a gosh darn Jedi knight by the end I don’t even care no one was there to knight him, and we see glimpses of Zeb and Hera living full, happy lives, and Sabine is off to bring Ezra home. There’s so much triumph and hope in that ending, and it always confuses me when people say it’s just horribly, tragically sad.

(7): The only way I can see the answers to these last two questions working if Tech remains dead is if they whole batch (besides Omega) dies and the series ends with a time skip and a much, much older Omega passing away, with a glimpse of the six of them being reunited in death somehow. And while I personally love the idea of some kind of clone afterlife, I don’t think my heart could take young teenage Omega being left on her own without her family for the entire rest of her life.

(8): I think, or I hope, anyway, that the batch’s definition of “our own” is also going to expand over the course of the rest of the series, and that it might not necessarily just mean “other clones, too.”

[fakeshibe]

Doug Rattmann is actually one of the most tragic characters in like modern gaming and i think we should all just acknowledge him more ok?

like, he's one of the only surviving aperture science scientists, if not THE only surviving scientist if we consider that even the people survived by being off sick would survive just long enough to die in the 7 hour war. He's totally on his own in a facility full of things that want to kill him whilst also dealing with paranoia, delusions and hallucinations with only one dose of his medication saved 'For the end times'. Once he takes that, he'll literally never be able to get more, he can't leave aperture and even if he could who's going to refill his prescription? Everyone died in the seven hour war remember? Or is about to, depends how long he's been surviving in the walls. Probably a couple of years going off of how many Rat-man safe houses we find in the game. There are probably more in the test chambers and offices we don't personally see. His only company now is a companion cube that he takes everywhere.

On top of that, he has to live with the knowledge that the deaths of his colleagues and friends is partly his fault. Survivors' guilt on top of murderers guilt. He was part of the machine that not looks to grind him into paste.

And yet, he doesn't hide away forever, when he sees that Chell has a real chance of making things right and taking out GLaDOS, he does what he can to help. Paints clues, messages, guides, anything he can to give her a chance.

And when she succeeds, he steps outside for the first time in years. Feels the air on his skin, sees the sun shining, feels freedom within his grasp. When he has all this, but watches Chell being dragged back to the hell he only just escaped, he gives it all up.

He recognises that Aperture is not dead, and he gives up everything he has, his present and his future, to make sure Chell lives. To make sure she has a chance to bring the whole thing down. When he finds that she's been put in long term relaxation, and that GLaDOS's shutdown has knocked all of the relaxation pods offline he knows what he has to do. He can't wake her up, but he can make sure her pod gets the power it needs. Make sure it keeps her safe for whenever the day comes that something automated wakes her up. Sets the markers so that when that day comes she'll find a portal gun. A life and a head start. A chance. It's all he can do and so it's all he will do.

And on the way to do that, he's shot. A turret shoots him in the leg. In a facility with no-one else left alive, he starts to bleed out. There's no help coming. No-one can hear him scream. No one will finish this if he can't. He can't stop. He chose Chell the first time because of her file specifically mentioning her tenacity, her will, too stubborn to ever give up. And so to save her life, he keeps going. Drags himself and his companion cube towards the computer that can save her life. Moving this much will make him bleed out faster, but it's all he can do. He can't die in peace when he knows Chells unpowered relaxation chamber will suffocate her without his intervention. And so he gets there, and he resets the power, and he saves her. And he asks for her forgiveness for it.

And then he crawls.

So slowly.

So agonisingly slowly.

He crawls towards the stasis bed that brought Chell to the first chamber.

His own grasp at rest.

Not survival.

No-one is coming to save Doug Rattman.

And so he falls asleep. With his trusty companion cube settling beside the stasis bed.

And when Chell finally wakes, and treks back through that first room. There's no trace of cube nor man nor stasis bed. Only the murals on the walls and the dens within them. One of which references Atlas and P-Body. Maybe he survived long enough to see GLaDOS develop them, or maybe they were an old idea from the Aperture archives Doug worked on that she dug up and claimed as her own. After all, who's going to prove she didn't? She killed all the scientists that could. She could claim anything in Aperture science was her work, GLaDOS is Aperture.

[iwonderwh0]

Thinking about this au

Hank being bored and going on a night-time stakeout with Connor.

"You should be sleeping, Lieutenant."

"I've slept all day yesterday. Wouldn't be able to fall asleep today even if I tried. Thought I might as well do something useful."

"I'm afraid it's far from being useful – nothing has been going on here for four nights I've been monitoring it."

"Well, if I'm being paid to do nothing, I don't actually mind it that much either."

They stay silent for a minute. Once again Hank looks at Connor and can't shake off the feeling that he looks...really tired.

"When do you sleep? Or...I dunno, do you do something similar?"

"Androids go into stasis. I think you can call it 'sleeping'"

"So?"

"I get about an hour of it when I charge my battery in the morning."

"Is it...enough?"

"To charge – yes."

"...But?" Hank pries, sensing that there's more to it.

"It's not really enough time to fully process all the new data and run a full diagnostics."

"Huh..have any of you guys talked about it? Maybe I could say I few words?"

Connor sighs, he looks a little annoyed, but when he finally talks his voice is soft, quiet.

"It doesn't affect our performance that much for DPD to bother. No one will change the rules just so we could feel more comfortable. It's cheaper to restart or replace us when we accumulate enough critical errors instead of preventing them from occuring by giving us more time to be unproductive."

"That...sucks."

"I guess."

"Have you ever been," Hank winces as he wonders if his question is appropriate, "restarted?"

"Not yet."

"Is it like turning you off and back on, right?"

"No, it's wiping our memories clean and starting fresh."

Hank swallows and stares outside. He clears his throat and asks

"Are those memories stored somewhere to transfer them back or..."

Connor stares at him, and his silence speaks volumes.

"What do you think?"

"Holy fucking shit. Really?"

"That's why no one really likes being partnered with one of ours. Most of us here are wiped about once every three months."

"But not you."

He shrugs.

"I'm a new prototype. I suppose I'm more durable."

"Fuck..."

Hank reclines on his seat and counts how many months have passed since he was first partnered with Connor. Five.

"I thought it's a common knowledge," Connor says, lazily tapping a steering wheel, eyes fixed right ahead.

"I just...I never really thought about it. I don't really interact much with other androids. Other than you, I mean."

"I'm not a good example. That's okay. I'm not sure why I expected you to know."

They stay quiet for a little while.

"How much time would it take for you to do the full diagnostics and all those other things?" Hank asks when silence start to feel thick.

"It depends. Could be from 6 hours up to a 30 if I were to process all the months worth of unprocessed data."

Hank takes a look at the time.

"How about seven?"

Connor stopps tapping and turns his head to look at Hank. Hank continues.

"If you're right and there's nothing to see here, it won't hurt if you just go on the back seats and...do your thing," he shrugs, "I can always wake you up if something actually happens, right?"

"I'm...not sure if you're joking or not."

"Are you gonna move to the backseat or not?"

"Hank, it's not..."

"I won't tell anyone. Will you?"

Connor bits on his lower lip and looks around as if ensuring that no one else could see him through the car window.

Hank tilts his head

"So what do you say, deal?"

"Deal!"

With that he unfastens his seatbelt and climbs on the backseat, and Hank takes his driver seat instead.

"Um...in case you need me, send me a message, okay? You won't be able to wake me up otherwise."

Hank nods.

"Noted."

"And Hank?"

Hank hums in response and eyes Connor in a rearview mirror.

"Thank you."

"To be honest, I wish you said something earlier. What the hell..."

Hank turns around to check on Connor, waiting for some response, but the other already curled in the back seats with his eyes closed and his LED spinning in continuous yellow, blinking once in a while. It took Hank a few moments to realise he's staring and return his eyes back to the boring building outside. Before today he didn't even know that androids can, yet alone need to sleep sometimes, and somehow now one of them was doing exactly that on the backseats of the car they both were sharing. It was another minute of complete silence before he noticed that Connor was breathing. Hank already knew that about androids, they all did. Ironically, if they didn't it would have been far more noticeable. So, that piece of knowledge was nothing new to Hank, and yet somehow he never really paid attention to it. Until now.

He wonders if it's just something androids only do to appear more human or if there's some practical meaning behind it as well. He should not forget to ask Connor about it next time he's awake. Or...hell, why not just search it up. He glances back at the building, then takes his phone out and spends the next few hours alternating between looking outside at the building and reading about how on earth was his android partner even functioning. Perhaps he'll learn more about things he don't know. Perhaps one day they'll even prove to be useful.

[birthdaycakeplate]

It’s only a year late, Anon, but I hope you find and enjoy this, because I ✨LOVED 💖this request. I really hyperfixated on Optimus being appreciated for once (and being doted on, respectfully). Thank you for making it, you are so good and wonderful for this ask💕 (((I FORGOT TO HIT ANSWER WHEN I POSTED THIS EJWKWKKEKEME, OH MY LORD)))

As a PSA to all the readers, this got WAY out of hand and somehow ended up being monstrously long AGAIN, so-

⭕️ BEWARE THE READ MORE⭕️

(Go to my page and open it there so you aren’t stuck ruining your dashboard and can leave the fic easier)

Warnings in the tags💕

——————————————- 

On a painfully uneventful evening such as this, stuck in a room with bots old and frail enough to evaporate into thin air from the weight of their air headed blather, Megatron was looking forward to doing some private reading later- someplace far away from this mockery of a court with all its prejudice.

This was how the Autobots did things? No wonder nothing ever got done- If Decepticons took this long talking in circles, talking at all, they would have been beaten back by their enemy faction by a sly, cunning leader, too, by now.

Megatron resisted sighing outwardly.

Reading would be such a sweet consolation for having to sit through these nearsighted windbags running their mouths all cycle. If only he could be certain he could survive this with half a processor in tact.

Besides Ultra Magnus’ obsession with flight tariffs in civil frame cities driving Megatron to a powerful processor ache, there was also the matter of this proud, little idiot stood here before him- so enveloped in his own heedless jargon it was threatening to dull Megatron’s logic center, if nobody put a stop to his rambling.

This one’s ego was much too big for him, continuously having to make himself known. He, Sentinel Prime, shouldn’t even be here.

And then the other mech so abysmally out of his depths here -Optimus Prime- was only here at all, because he’d been crowned a hero for having offered these council mechs Megatron’s head on a platter some months ago. Too bad he’d left it attached to the rest of him- Megatron would make sure the Prime would come to regret it by the end of these ‘negotiations’.

If he somehow hadn’t already, constantly being tortured by Megatron instigating his dear, precious Magnus from across the court.

Judging by the exasperated glare Prime sent Megatron’s way every few arguments, and Megatron purposely ignoring his very existence, it was only a matter of time before Optimus caved and would have to excuse himself to collect the necessary patience. And Megatron would watch him go with a smirk, thinking how it was all too bad the little firetruck couldn’t be helped to finally learn his place in this big mech world -far bigger than him- and spare himself this misery.

There was much to be ungrateful for during these sessions, and yet still, probably the most enraging offense on Megatron’s person of all -even keeping company like this, with council mechs considering his rights as casually as if they were discussing the weather- was that the very same bot who’d made a fool of him and delivered him in stasis cuffs to the Auotbot’s mercy kept injecting himself into matters too important for him… on Megatron’s behalf.

Defending a (capable) nefarious warlord in front of the masses like an absolute martyr.

At least so when something truly as appalling as treatment for ground sickness in civilian spaces was disregarded as a priority, and not considered a sanity-threatening emergency, was suggested. Proving that Optimus Prime might be the first Autobot to possess a modicum of honor.

Suggestions as flippant as that quickly became few and far between, as Optimus’ constant pestering was driving everyone up the wall- every Autobot quietly disgusted by the notion of rights for war mechs, anyway. Which appeared to be the entire panel in Megatron’s only slightly biased opinion, as he was sat here before them.

Optimus paid them no mind- had started out quiet and humble, so uncertain of his place here. Appropriately so, if you asked Megatron. But Primus had he found it when Sentinel had suggested ‘docked wings’ on Decepticons who broke the new laws…

“I wasn’t talking first time offenders!” The plow tried to correct, like that wouldn’t burn a hole through Optimus all the same from the sheer, righteous indignity of it.

Optimus, who was rarely ever sat with his aft properly in his podium seat and spent much of the deliberation bouncing around on his pedes, pointing fingers and making wild gestures the more his patience thinned, met his limit then.

“We will never modify their frames in any nonconsensual way, Sentinel! Primus, what is wrong with you!?”

Megatron could answer that question for the little firetruck. These out of touch bigots were terrified of him -despite their proud, ‘fearless Autobot’ front.

They were scared of Megatron and the other war machines, and they’d be wise to hold strong to those insecurities, lest they have anymore ideas of a faction wide extermination that would ascend into yet another eternal war.

It’d be the same subject matter, at least.

Sometimes, it became exhausting keeping up with of all the atrocities that’d transpired between them over the years, and he’d rather like to keep his thumb between the pages, holding his place for when this treaty inevitably fell through and he had to pick up right where he’d left off. Somewhere around escaping prison thanks to idiot, imposter Magnuses to come skewer the real one. 

Even now that things had become slightly more progressive -given they Autobots had been forced to concede to him- there was still the odd daydream of his of striking Magnus from off of his throne. Most recently for making him sign documentation of all the war mech’s in his faction under an ominously familiar act to keep designations on close hand.

How…uncanny.

In fact, Megatron had signed it purely out of his own shock and amusement to see if Ultra Magnus would realize what it was he was resurrecting from the dark depths of their shared history by demanding such a thing.

‘To keep record of everyone entering into the new era of peace accounted for’.

Well, then. How convenient an excuse. Clearly, Megatron wasn’t the only one without a single hope for their unification.

In support of that depressing thought, Ultra Magnus had said little to protest or encourage what his council mechs were offering -pushing- other than when he was strictly needed to make great speeches to quiet Megatron’s kin of their outrage. Often just sat there staring listlessly out over the chaos of council members and Decepticon high command at Megatron’s back, ranting and raving over one another. Looking more and more forlorn, more and more distant.

He must have walked into this as sure as the Earth’s sun that this would be a lost cause. He’d only bothered placating any of this, because the other option was simply to concede and die…

Megatron, to be contrary -despite his own doubts in this movement- was becoming more irritated that Magnus expected him to be such a lost cause. These talks of merging their species a chore and an impossible one…

That Optimus was spurred on all the more by Ultra Magnus’ silence, trying to take the reigns in an effort to lead the others with his boundless, pitiful optimism towards the notion that there was any value to them fighting for this forsaken, ideological future was perhaps a tiny bit comforting. It was, after all, Megatron’s only real source of entertainment during these talks, as Strika had insisted on presenting herself seriously, unwilling to make small talk while Autobot bureaucrats were speaking.

Useless. This was all wasted time, Megatron was sure of it… As sure as Magnus…

Somehow still, he managed to weather an entire cycle more of this undignified dressing down of his rights and quickly stood, eager to push his way out of the chambers first before he could be tethered to another post council scourge where the Autobots fought amongst themselves to push their own opinions upon an absent Decepticon faction. Too self-indulged to realize the underhandedness of such a thing.

Perhaps he should reconsider killing them during another of Magnus’ speeches instead. For the sake of dramatics and some much needed entertainment.

On this particular exhausting cycle, though, Optimus Prime -absolutely fuming- seemed to have the same idea as him about being the first one out of the Council’s logic leeching vacuum. That he was the main cause of said scourging amongst his leaders and peers -and Sentinel, the instigator- allowed Megatron a moment of calm to slow his steps some ways behind him and enjoy the sight of one puffed up Prime getting exactly what he deserved for bringing Megatron onto this cursed planet with a functioning sparkbeat.

He looked ready to kick Sentinel’s podium on the way out, if he were the type of mech to lose his temper Lin such a way.

Megatron remembered the trip back to Cybertron being not at all how he’d imagined it. Beaten, torn to pieces, and struggling to vent, Megatron had seen a fair glimpse of the kind of mech Optimus Prime really was when battle and desperation weren’t marring his processor. 

He couldn’t say he was impressed with a bot with such… he was just so… Optimus was so…

The only way Megatron could describe the humiliating -though enlightening- encounter without sacrificing his ego was to simply say that he hadn’t the opportunity to meet an Autobot Elite as unexpectedly humble and sincere as Optimus Prime before.

How embarrassing to have been beaten by such a bleeding spark…

The little mech cared about… everything. And he cared too much.

Unfortunately, the effort he put into it was quite misplaced. If he could only have the foresight to see who his genuine nature was being expended upon, who was taking advantage of it, he’d have turned to the Decepticon’s for guidance and a purpose.

Not that Megatron wanted him there.

Megatron gave a huff and removed himself from those thoughts, lest he provoke the unfortunate memories that’d came with them -stuck at the mercy of what he’d just discovered at the time to be a Primus forsaken maintenance bot, serving him back his own aft like he’d been doing it for centuries prior.

The discovery had been too humiliating too bare…

His little consolation for everything the Prime had put him through on Earth was that he was still a nobody here. He was spoken over, talked down to by Ultra Magnus on occasion, and largely ignored. Which is what Megatron intended to do himself for the rest of this pretend peace he was forced to serve under.

Pretend Optimus Prime was a bot without an ounce of worth behind his false title, something to be forgotten in the history of Megatron’s millions of years of fortitude and success.

And as he looked down at his retreating figure, hustling towards the doors to rid himself the indignity of todays events, Megatron knew in his spark that this would be the most he’d ever spare in acknowledging the Prime- only enough to delight in his suffering.

He could survive these sessions with that in mind, if it could only have stayed true.

“They don’t seem to know what’s good for them.” The Decepticon, a jet, said blithely. He was standing guard by the entrance on the Decepticon’s floor. That Optimus didn’t bother with his faction’s floor in a means to get out of there sooner was another odd consolation for Megatron against the withering glares from the council mech’s at the tiny fool’s backstrut.

Optimus didn’t seem to pay this mech any mind either.

“No, they don’t.” He snapped back at him, without a single glance at the jet. And yet, there was something there in his tone Megatron couldn’t quite place when he heard it -nor cared to- as he lazily followed behind him.

In the split second the jet had to respond before Optimus was good and gone, stomping and storming off as fearsomely as any ‘Con about triple his size, the guard tilted his helm his way to try and extend the last few moments they had.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Prime.”

To Megatron’s confusion, Optimus stopped. His shoulders losing some of their tension as his helm fell back on a sigh.

“Sorry… I’ll try... And Thanks.”

The jet smiled at him, and from this angle, Megatron could just make out the corner of Optimus’ lip plates tilting upward, returning it.

‘Familiarity’… That’s what it was.

———————————————-

Boredom was about Megatron’s only motivator to look into the odd spectacle he’d witnessed. Waiting for the council room to fill and the doors to close, preparing for another arduous cycle of negotiations, Megatron leant back in his chair, hardly built for his massive size as it was, and hissed nasally into Strika’s audial.

“Who is that?” He cut his optics over at the chipper looking jet.

How dare he not be sharing in Megatron’s crushing despair for having to be here.

“Jou know who jour mechs are.” Strika answered back.

Megatron considered the mech a moment. He was silver and rather tall for a jet. A sleek frame with black indentations up the underside of each wings- one of his more noticeable features. One a Decepticon might think attractive with its cutting edges and sharp angles.

Megatron certainly did know him, granted he’d gone through several reformations since joining the cause.

He tried to remember why.

This jet proved significantly more capable of handling injuries than most other winged mechs of his slender, shorter stature. He’d seen some extensive upgrades, and if Megatron was correct, had managed to deserve each and every one of them under his field commander’s favor.

Oh, right- and Starscream hated him. Pretty to look at, easy to grab, obedient and a good listener, as well as a good fighter. Of course Megatron would have agreed to special treatment like reformations for a mech like that, so long as he was sure Starscream would wind up jealous and bitter about it.

Considering his near civil mech size, this one was a powerhouse -and a good choice for their chamber room guard post then. Not that Megatron could believe a room full of even the most capable Autobot warriors could subdue him without the jet‘s aid.

But that image conjured up another one- the memory of this jet streaking across a scarlet sky with Energon dripping from his wingtips. A splash of it falling down and momentarily blinding Megatron’s opponent before he’d decapitated them.

Saberswipe, Megatron finally recalled. A winged mech who dissected enemies using a unique blend of speed and force. How fitting then.

Megatron didn’t like him…

“He vants to frag Prime.” Said Strika, then. Unnecessarily.

Megatron cuts his optics at her next.

“Maybe he wouldn’t be such an unbearable pain then.” He said rather stuffily.

“Optimus Prime has too much time on his servos to be as meddlesome as he is. He needs a hobby.”

“Like fragging a flighty, pint sized jet?”

“Like fragging himself, more like.” Megatron scoffed, then surveyed the platforms opposite him, looking for said nuisance to come and claim his seat soon, and the pestering to begin.

“Vatch your mouth.” Strika snarled into his audial, immediately drawing Megatron’s attention back.

He looked at her, slack jawed and optic ridge pinched. Completely offended by her outburst. She didn’t look the least bit repentant.

In fact, as war frames often did with one another, she stared him right back in the optics, challenging him. Her permanent frown somehow impressively deepening.

Megatron’s processor slowed to a tick.

“What was that, General?” He ground out, finally grasping that one of his subordinates had just had the gall to openly disrespect him in such a way.

The tank leaned into him, drawing a curious glance from the old and foolish Trion who frequently attempted to keep tabs on the Decepticon board from across the way. Looking terribly unsubtle about it, too.

“Vatch what jou say about Prime.” Strika rumbled.“He does not deserve jour ridicule, too.”

Nearly lost for words in one debilitating moment of insanity, Megatron needed time for his processor to climb back up to a functional rhythm.

Strika’s gaze did not waver, shockingly. Staring him down with all the confidence and reassertion she only ever expended defending the honor of her delusional mate, Lugnut.

Which this was….. odd…

“He deserves every ounce of it.” Megatron said slowly, gobsmacked. Because had Strika forgotten how they’d gotten themselves here?

Had she forgotten how her suddenly precious little Prime had gotten him here?

“He is the reason we are being forced to kneel to the Autobot’s.”

“He is za reason we may all have a chance at peace, finally. He is za reason zese negotiations have gone on for as long as zhey have vithout falling through.”

“Because he won’t stop inserting himself-“

“Which is the reason we’ve had a voice for ourselves on that half of the chamber.”

Megatron felt a very childish rebuttal coming up any second now.

“We are strong enough to be our own voices!”

They’d had to be for lifetimes now.

Where had it gotten them, though?

“They von’t listen to us.” Strika said simply. Obviously.

They both already knew, despite how much it pained Megatron to think he was worth so little respect from even Ultra Magnus these days as to be heard, when he had gone and conquered worlds. Had posed as the single most monstrous threat to Autobot society for generations.

“Prime is making zem listen.” Strika reinforced, a tad more gentler. Which was worse than her disrespect.

Megatron felt the tension in his shoulder joints loosen, defeated yet again by Strika’s superior logic unit. One reason she made such a brilliant general, and did just a good enough job to help him remember his own place in things.

Help him remember his undoubtable greatness and value as a warrior and intelligent mind still weren’t enough to sway the narrow minds and bigoted forces of the Autobot Commonwealth. She was just objective enough to understand her loyalty for her master wouldn’t translate for some- for many. And she was right -had probably saved these negotiations countless times without him even knowing- to help him see that for himself.

He’d be feeding her her spike for it later.

“It shouldn’t be that way…” He huffed, all but pouting like the 14 million year old warlord he was for anyone tracking the conversation in the room to see.

“I agree- and he doesn’t zink so, either.“ Strika said, turning back to face the finally full room with her optics settling over the little Prime, entranced in his own tireless note taking.

“How fortunate are we, zhen to have a such a find listener? Zhat isn’t a question, by ze way. Now shut up and vatch.”

The session began as it always did- with the little red Bumblebee lookalike announcing the designations of all parties present and then the article of debate. In today’s case, it was about the mythical Decepticon housing distribution problem.

Optimus’ finials pricked up in interest, readying himself to take a stand.

Megatron turned away.

“You hate peace, Strika.” He said mournfully. His servos crossed over his chest, as he stared over at Saberswipe diligently standing guard. His optics also settled heavily over the brightly colored Prime. But he was only safe place in the room at the moment for Megatron to rest his optics.

Megatron was always happiest with his processor busy plotting, and he had much to think about when he set his optics on the tall, agile jet.

—————————

Despite feeling like a part time prisoner still, which was somewhat true, Megatron was glad to spend a cycle outside of that court of self-aggrandizing windbags, and in the beautiful plated streets of the lovely Iacon City for a change. Standing in the place he’d once stood millennia ago, screaming at the top of his voice box until his synthesizer was stripped raw for the helm of the mech who’d signed the miner outpost off and left him and his kin an empty future.

He remembered his fellow war mech’s at his back, looking to him -the bravest of the lot- to get them answers. To take it from the first senator to get down off his high podium and face them all. Having finally reached a point in his life where he was willing to throw his life away, if that was what it would take to be heard.

Civil frames avoided him, splitting perfectly down the middle as they went, trying to avoid him. Dodging eye contact, apologizing for having to pass by him at all- those who didn’t cross the street entirely.

One such mech was not so cowed by his domineering, gravely presence on their clean, shiny streets.

“Hiya, Megatron. You’re needed in the chambers today.”

Megatron looked the large, green swat van over. Twice. Wondering when and where he had gotten the audacity.

“Are you an errand boy, now?” He jabbed, looking for a weak spot in Optimus’ most even tempered, well adjusted ex-crew mate.

“Nope. Just doin’ Prime a favor. He, uh, wanted to discuss the housing issue some more the other day, but Ultra Magnus said it’d need to be done in an official setting. You’re the other faction leader, sooo… y’know.”

So one of Optimus’ post meeting scourges had pushed enough frayed nerves to get itself a platform.

Megatron was not about to subject himself to Optimus -an Autobot- openly condemning Megatron’s -an actual Decepticon- insistence that Decepticons did not need the ‘frivolities’ that civil types did in their hypothetical habsuites, and that he was ‘thinking like a pampered little civil frame’ when he had insisted each Decepticon be given a balcony and sky view for easy take off.

Optimus did not know what Decepticons needed, Megatron -a Decepticon- obviously did. Why hadn’t he left it alone? Why did he always have to go behind his backstrut?

Because he knew having one less oppressive opinion of Optimus’ place there in the room would be enough to force himself to be heard?

And if he was as great as Strika (confusingly, peculiarly, horrifically) had said, then he would know they ‘needed’ an open, more communal space for their habitats. Once, when he’d cared to hear it, Megatron had recalled somebot saying that seekers didn’t do so well when separated, and seekers made up a large part of his flyers.

Which speaking of-

“That is why Starscream exists.” Megatron glowered at Bulkhead.

Yes, Starscream was here as his no good, useless second in command. It’d been torture having to reinstate that rank at the start of this jumbled negotiation mess.

Bulkhead only shrugged.

“She didn’t show up.”

Megatron sighed, palm coming up to cover his forehelm.

He did love his cycles away from the council room, as their newest instrument of torture -them opening their mouths- too much for his poor, weathered spark.

But today was not his day to indulge.

He turned away and left Bulkhead standing there, shrugging off the taller mech’s awful attitude -used to Prowl’s and Bumblebee’s- and marched himself away from the council chambers. He took flight in the middle of a crowded city of startled grounders and off towards the Nemesis’ docking bay, stationed in the vacant hollow of the once prosperous Kaon, where it was sat idly. His poor ship.

On a day like this, where Starscream had been summoned to preform and had unsurprisingly failed again to do so, the useless seeker would no doubt be hiding away in the command quarters, rather than out enjoying the city skylights from the shuttle ports. Lazing about precarious platforms and swinging a pede over an edge into the open air, enjoying herself.

She’d be smart enough to know with that alarming sixth sense of her that Megatron would be out looking for her today. Looking to tear off some wingstruts.

Decepticons cleared the way as their thunderous leader landed and stomped his way up the deck, much like the civil frames had in the Iacon Plaza.

Megatron was marginally saddened to find Starscream hadn’t taken the opportunity of his absence to claim ownership of his throne and do all her sulking there, as he always felt it was a bit instigative of him to shred the seeker to pieces when she hadn’t gone and stupidly earned it.

When he finally found her huddled in on herself in a bulkhead, he had to forced his claws to retract.

She stood there, facing away from the quiet commotion of the bridge with her servos crossed, staring at the floor with a scowl. Processor deep in conniving thought.

Some threatening on Megatron’s part was still in order, at least.

“Get… your scrap metal wings… your lazy skidplate… down to the council chambers!” Megatron roared, startling the seeker out of her trance, as she spun around to access the danger she was in.

Megatron stood before her, towering and menacing, impossible to make out the expression of in the lightless war ship. Though she did catch the distinct glint of fanged denta baring themselves from the glow of monitor stations.

“Now.” Megatron rasped, pointing for target enhanced optics to see at the vague location of the Autobot Council Chambers. Miles and miles away.

After a moment looking him over, frown stuck to her faceplates, Starscream immediately assumed her usual dramatics, ‘scrap metal wings’ challenging Megatron in a high arch.

“Never,” She hissed back, baring her own sharp denta. Already protesting against his authority and he’d only just gotten there.

Megatron, finally having been able to get some fresh air in his vents away from the horrid hell hole Prime was trying to shove him back into, was able to find the strength to summon his ire over his exhaustion.

His optics glowed dangerously as his plating ruffled. Making his already impressive frame seem somehow bigger.

“Starscream. Go. At. Once.”

Starscream still was not cowed. Curiously. Worryingly.

She brought her claws out to her sides, extending them, readying for the first strike.

“No…”

Megatron was only slightly surprised to see how affected his selfish, self-absorbed seeker was by attending the lengthy meetings of Autobot jargon that did little, if anything, to center themselves around her haughty presence there. Because of course she wouldn’t want to whittle her time away there, it was never about her.

It was always about Megatron and his great presence and incredible intellect. His ability to have every last one of the sniveling Autobots wiped clean as a species, should they cross him. Starscream could never stand being overshadowed by his-

“I’m not going back there!” She screeched at him.

Megatron reached for a sheathed sword he wore in purposeful protest of Magnus’ law forbidding war frame’s of dawning weapons in the presence of civil mechs, as it hadn’t yet been set into motion.

But then her words suddenly clicked.

“What do you mean, ‘go back there’? You’ve been excluded from sessions while in my company… Because I barred you.”

Lord, had he.

“I barred myself, when you wouldn’t stop gloating about ridiculous, ancient, irrelevant history!” Starscream countered, giving Megatron a sudden and strange feeling that reason was a fallacy.

“Nobody cares how you handled the pre-faction Destrons- or how ‘great you are’ at leading a washed out, embarrassment of an ex-faction! It doesn’t make you a good leader, it doesn’t mean you deserve anyone’s respect! Especially not mine!”

Megatron’s optic twitched.

AllSpark, give him strength.

“Your presence has not been requested or necessary for a decacycle, Starscream. I’ve been handling everything- this was my one cycle away from their pointless rambling-“

“That’s what you think!” Starscream said snidel. Igniting equal parts worry and confusion in Megatron’s fuel tank.

Because she had better not been stepping a single heeled thruster into that fucking joke of a council of theirs, or else he’d-

“You don’t care about the needs of streamlined frames, you know! I have to be there!”

Megatron blinked his confusion, but he made sense of things rather quickly.

“You mean you and your clones?”

“Yes!” Starscream instantly recognized which insufferable tone Megatron was using on her.

“Obviously, you old fool!”

“Starscream-!”

“I have a skeletal scaffold to pick with them, too, you know!” Starscream flittered her wings in agitation, ignoring whatever danger she was in and rambling over him.

“You may not have the spacial awareness to see it for yourself, but I’m in there plenty! You never think to address the feuling crisis for streamlined frames! The clone seekers have varying needs, we aren’t genetically identical, or have you somehow overlooked Skywarp’s built in warpdrive?! What about Thundercracker’s sonic boom?!”

Thundercracker’s what…?

Oh, Primus.

“They are seekers of my own making,” Starscream screeched so loud, the nearest star outside the viewport flickered, hearing her call.

“They’re not… not thoughtfulness productions and weapons!”

Megatron’s lip curled.

“Your missing spark is an enigma. Who would bother learning every special delicate need your radiated, mutated miscreants require in order to find their shoddy, miserable existence in this world like the rest of us?”

“Optimus Prime would.” Starscream muttered more to herself, rolling her optics.

Megatron’s look of disgust was quickly wiped from his faceplate. Confusion and -oddly- betrayal took its place, as he searched Starscream’s frowning face for answers he dared not ask for.

Starscream looked conflicted as well- beneath the prevalent, thick layer of spite, anyway- and conceded to an explanation.

“He’s working to reduce the classification the clone seekers are subjected to- the Auotbots think they function like workerbots…” Starscream’s derma twisted up at the thought of those nameless mechs, existing without identities, being compared to her wild, wayward clone brothers.

Megatron very consciously chose not to feel anything when he noticed those bots slinking around, doing typical maintenance work and looking unnervingly devoid of a processor.

“That little Earth Prime,” Starscream’s wing flicked.

“He’s taking note of my seekers, what they each need to survive here, how much they need. He isn’t just throwing them together and hoping the new laws and resources sort them all out- that’d be like throwing me and Bonecrusher into a blind conjunxing so you could be done with me.” She shivered violently at the thought.

“He knows the clones aren’t inherently compatible with one another… we’re… that we’re… different people. You know?”

Starscream pulled a face.

“Maybe you don’t know... It’s all a wasted effort anyway. Like you, no one seems to care long enough to learn even the most basic needs of our individual maintenance.”

Starscream shuttered her optics and balled her servos up.

“No one cares to know. Starscream will slip her way out of any mess, but what happens when the mess is about to become your only option to a better future? It’s this or live with nothing in a stockade underground somewhere…”

Starscream was sounding eerily alike she was trying to stave off a watery edge to her vocalizer. Looking away to hide her despair.

Megatron would admit he hadn’t been aware of the existence of this issue -stood there dumbstruck into silence- but it made some molecule of sense to him.

Shockwave had said something about environments and Energon sources as being large factors in issues with accurate cloning. The crazed and unethical servos of their scientist inventors didn’t help with that either, Megatron imagined.

….As they had seen all of such with Toxitron and Nemesis.

Despite Optimus’ stilted, but eventually genuine welcome of the two newest Decepticons into his existentially horrified life, they were both problems for another day. And thankfully, too, ones Optimus was willing to tackle. Seemingly feeling responsible for their creation in some nonsensical way.

Which was also good for him, as Megatron did not want to have to deal with another argument about his inexcusable, abhorrent lack of ethics from Ultra Magnus after what he himself had approved to have happen to the young, susceptible jet twins.

But for now, he was far too tired to deal with anymore insufferable self-doubt, and waved a single servo towards the exit while his other clutched at his aching helm.

“Just go, Starscream. You are needed- do your one and only job.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” She shrieked, energy boundless.

“I’m not going back!”

Megatron tried to ignore the terrified mechs typing away at their monitor stations, fields all buzzing with nerves at their two temperamental commanders’ increasingly passionate spat.

Then the sharp edge of Starscream’s wings spreading out wide at her back brought his attention to the suddenly conflicted looking faceplate of his dear SIC once more.

“They want to silence him!” She continued, failing suddenly to mask the indifference in her voice.

“That idiot with the hammer told him to stop pressing the matter!”

Starscream’s attempt at dressing down the Magnus was a frail one. Desperation was muddling her clever tongue and making her optics blur (to Megatron’s mounting horror).

“Then that, that… useless garbage plow told him it ‘didn’t matter’! He said it wasn’t important! Can you- you believe that?!”

Megatron stood in frozen terror as her vocalizer caught. Watching helplessly as she waved about, fighting back a very real danger to cry.

Blitzwing, formerly a seeker, appeared to be the only bot left in the room not glued faceplate first into his monitor. Wings pricking in interest.

He seemed oddly invested in the whole thing, in Megatron’s opinion. Megatron, who tried not to believe in such things as dwelling on one’s former self. He’d thought Blitzwing wouldn’t worry about something like that either, but… maybe there was something more there he wasn’t seeing.

“And that stupid, little fool…” Starscream hadn’t enough sheer willpower to keep her opinions to herself and avoid the threat of finally crying her optics out in the most un-Decepticon like fashion, in front of a room full of them…

“He told Prime to ‘be quiet’.”

Like Optimus asking for these powerful mechs to hear the voices of others was some ‘annoying inconvenience’.

Or more like Optimus was some annoying inconvenience to them.

They’d certainly done nothing to welcome him there since these negotiations had began, trying to talk over him. Trying to silence him. Trying to bully him.

He’d done more than any of them had in reuniting their peoples with next to nothing to do it with.

And that may only be because he was the only one who wanted to so badly…

The coolant evaporated from the corners of Starscream’s optics in an instant -a god delivered blessing. Instead, it was outrage taking it’s hold and possessing her.

Megatron’s self-perseveration protocols surged to life.

“I’m going to gut them for talking like that,” Megatron’s sparkbeat began to pulse rapidly, knowing that look in her optic then.

“I’m going to pull out his glossa and feed it to Skullcruncher- I’m going to do it right now, in fact! I’m going to the council-“

It was that fearless look where vengeance blinded her and became more important to Starscream than basic logic- of shabby promises of truces.

And Megatron of all mechs was about to be the one to save a board full of outdated models from the wrath of the pit itself, despite knowing they deserved it.

He reached out and caught her by her sensitive wings, unnerved by the way she didn’t so much as flinch in pain from it. This was that mad- mad, that ‘you’ve disrespected a self-appointed Decepticon Prince’ mad.

“No, Starscream. That will undo everything we’ve accomplished-“

“What have we accomplished?!”

“It will undo everything I’ve had to waste my time sitting through, then. Starscream- Starscream-!”

The seeker twisted out of his grasp and, before she could attempt to take flight and race over to the senate to claim herself a pretty, new neck piece, Megatron caught her about the waist and struggled against her sheer force of selfish will to keep her thrusters grounded. Possibly the first time the foolish creature had ever posed such a real and bothersome threat to him.

She attempted lift off again anyway, squashing Megatron’s face into her cockpit as she scratched and clawed and fought for freedom. Mechs typing away at their terminals, desperately trying to ignore the chaos behind them, were inches away from breaking their far less bendable struts than the average civil mech’s by crouching so far down into their stations, some of the mechs with kibble were scraping against raw protoform.

Hiding from emotional conflict like true Decepticons.

Megatron hadn’t been met with this level of danger from the seeker in years. He was afraid he was about to meet his match when, finally, another pair of servos circled her about the waist from the other side, and she was brought back down between Megatron and her other captor.

She didn’t struggle, preserving some ounce of dignity after that extremely unbecoming display.

But the mournful look in her optic was back, and the hitch in her vocalizer was fresh, as she hiccuped an aborted sniff. Muted only by the grind of her denta in a valiant effort to compose herself.

“He was jus- t… trying to help me… No one’s…” She steadied herself.

“No one’s ever done that before…”

Megatron stared, unable to think of a single thing to say to break the uncomfortable spell cast over them, as he looked at his normally carefully distant Second. So careful not to be vulnerable- and never in front of Megatron, for Primus’ sake.

What had these negotiations done to them?

His fearless warriors…

Perhaps he could say to her that Optimus Prime was just one mech, and a young, inexperienced one. No more a crucial factor in her getting the representation Megatron was hard pressed to say her obedient clones didn’t actually deserve, even if she herself did not. But then, Optimus was apparently also the only one pushing this issue that Megatron hadn’t even been made aware of- because the admittedly accurate assumption of Starscream’s was that he hadn’t cared to be.

What he was mortifyingly close to understanding now, though, was that Optimus Prime was important to Starscream’s cause, and far from worthy of the routine mistreatment he received from of his own people.

Unless, of course, Megatron thought that his people secretly deserved such mistreatment themselves- the kind Optimus was tirelessly fighting against, though somehow failing to establish for himself. Like, if Megatron didn’t explicitly know better, Optimus was attempting to put the needs of a few Decepticons, the deserving ones, before his own… Like their proper treatment was at least worth fighting for…

He could say instead that Starscream was letting her behavior consume her and was looking a pitiful mess for it, and as vain as she was, that’d be devastating enough to hear that she might drop the issue. She had only recently established a change in the designation of her pronouns without receiving a reformation with it, garnering plenty of odd looks and outright rejection from the sleek and well-defined frames of civil types and those identifying similarly. The way they’d rejected Strika and Blackarachnia for not fitting certain standards.

It’d left Starscream feeling more fragile about her appearance and reputation lately, and such a thing would be shattering to have to acknowledge when her anger finally subsided and the weight of it all settled upon her.

But goading Starscream for something Megatron himself was constantly struggling against felt undeservedly hateful- the fight to be accepted and respected as well, as a Cybertronian with rights.

Though he couldn’t believe that Starscream didn’t seem deserving of a perfectly effective punishment he could inflict upon her.

“Thundercracker helps jou all ze time.” Said Blitziwng then, finally breaking the overwhelming tension of the moment. His grip still carefully settling her in her place.

Megatron blinked himself out of his stupor, out of his embarrassing lull of feeling guilt and concern for the seeker, and loosened his grip on her then.

Starscream took the opportunity to push both their arms from off her frame and sulk away with her wings indeed held pitifully low. They watched her go, and cords unwinding and struts re-straightening could be heard across the bridge in unison.

“Seekers are moody.” Blitzwing suggested, after a look over his unusually beaten master.

As evidenced by said former seeker’s split personalities, Megatron would agree with that assessment, and spun around in a hasty retreat from anymore emotional confrontations.

————————————

He didn’t allow himself to miss any deliberations after that, lest Starscream subject him to anymore of that guilt still weighing heavy in his spark with another pent up tirade about discrimination in her own faction some ways down the line.

This, watching Motormaster -a recent addition to high command and a poor one- barter for ‘derby rights’, however, wasn’t much better…

“Street racing is illegal.” Optimus said simply- something he’d picked up from Fanzone that had interestingly never been applicable to a race of sentiment, self-driving vehicles before.

Motormaster and his Stunticons were a… different breed, however. One which demanded a new definition for what qualified as ‘safe and legal driving’.

“You mean it’s illegal for war types ta’do it.” Motormaster growled back at him.

Plenty of other Decepticons here today would agree with that false assumption, simply for the sake of being contradictory. Flight frames included.

These talks hadn’t really done a thing to change the relationships between their peoples. They were all still viewing one another as an enemy threat, which, while true, would do nothing to help their goal of changing that viewpoint later on for their futures together.

Megatron wasn’t sure he wanted that to happen, though.

“Why in spark is this bolt head here?” Sentinel said loudly then, turning to Optimus. The only other mech there brave enough to speak over the terrifying Stunticon leader.

Interestingly enough, Sentimel Prime wasn’t particularly frightened to speak his mind at the insubordinate bastard either.

Megatron made a note of it for future blackmailings. He couldn’t send someone the airheaded Prime wasn’t afraid of to do his manipulating.

“Motormaster is Polyhex's defence garrison.” Optimus sighed, having a rare moment of sharing in Sentinel’s distress during one of these meetings.

“Uh-huh. Which you should be the one voicing all the complaints of.” Sentinel said, pointing at the Polyhexian governor, Straxus. Who Megatron had been embarrassingly forced to welcome into the senate, as his mostly made up position also came with lots of mostly made up authorities and responsibilities.

Then Starxus had the audacity -in front of Megatron- to speak.

“Well, yes… I suppose so. Would you… like me, too?”

Strika whipped her helm back to send Megatron a withering look of disgust- which he could share the sentiment of.

Straxus, never soft spoken and never one to acknowledge when he was speaking out of turn and not worth the hot air he was blowing out of his pincered mouth, had been using that tone in regards to Sentinel every time he spoke to the other mech for several weeks now.

Alpha Trion had, again, not so subtlety raised curious optics towards the display. Making his own list of alarming mental notes that Megatron would rather him not be keeping on even his most useless of subordinates.

“Our needs are individual.” Straxus said simply to the court at large.

“Burning excess energy is not a staple of my function, as it is a Stunticons. I’m a big mech. I need to conserve Energon, you know. Might I say, a very big mech…”

Straxus finished by staring pointedly at Sentinel again. Optimus watched from the corner of his optic, extremely invested in his colleague’s reaction- which was only to shuffle his datapads in front of his obnoxious face to hide it, like his notes were more important than addressing the issue he himself had caused by challenging the High Governor himself.

It was a rare moment the plow had been effectively silence.

“Alright then…” Optimus began slowly, clearly disappointed there wasn’t anything more to that interaction.

“Motormaster, war frames are obviously built with fewer limitations than civil frames. Releasing all your frustrations out on the public will result in injuries… To say the least.”

“So we’re just s’posed to fly over to Polyhex anytime we want to spin our wheels!? Get our exercise in?! It’s our right, y’know!”

“No, there are city destinations specifically designed for war frame inhabitants.” Optimus countered, much too calm in Megatron’s foul-tempered opinion. He’d like to see Motormaster verbally whipped to pieces in one of Optimus’ scathing sass-attacks from having lost his patience.

“Where are they?” Motormaster asked smugly, knowing the little Prime had just set himself up for another bout of endless bickering over the inadequacies of care the prejudiced Autobots were bleeding them of.

Which, true, but-

“They haven’t been built yet,” Shockwave -the biggest slight on the company of the proceeding council of any Decepticon mech here- answered on Optimus’ behalf. Though his presence had been won through the stipulation of Megatron agreeing to sign Magnus’ Decepticon Registration Act Part ll, he regretted nothing for the sake of the joy his place on the council had brought him.

“They are scheduled to be completed in less than another decacycle.” Shockwave leant over to stare at Motormaster.

“You can wait a little longer to run your tires to bare threads, can’t you?”

There was an air of irritation about the secular mech. Megatron eyed him several seat podiums down. Sitting as far away from the Magnus as Shockwave could be put.

Shockwave didn’t wait for the other mech’s answer, of course.

“Optimus Prime has personally seen to the construction and collection of the resources needed to make it so. He’s single-handedly enlisted the help of the specialists needed to build these destinations, no less. Much of whom, surprisingly, are volunteers.”

Megatron tried…… VERY HARD…… not to think about the lowly Prime’s status as a former maintenance bot at that.

And yet, the searing reminder kept persisting -as it always did- because Megatron could only imagine with a reputation of such casual dislike amongst a good many of his peers these negotiations had garnered Optimus, there were only so many ‘specialist builders’ he could think of who were going to volunteer the first hand construction of Decepticon resources. And one of them had been severely -possibly permanently- hospitalized because of him in the heat of their final Earth battle before his capture…

“Optimus Prime this, Optimus Prime that.” Said Hook suddenly from a seat behind Megatron.

Hook, the studious, current chief Decepticon medic -after Scalpel had proved both morally unstable (Megatron’s favorite thing about him) and unwilling to subject himself to negotiating with Autobots. He was happy preforming horrible medical services inside his medbay in or out of an everlasting war either way, so it was up to the newly integrated member of Scrapper and Mixmaster’s gestalt to appear before them all today.

Megatron turned his helm to see the insufferable mech speaking his mind -also out of turn, as was his mech’s habit- and caught a worrying glimpse of Strika at his side, looking murderous and ready to stand and punch a new hole in the Constructicon’s head.

Thankfully, it didn’t come to that.

“When exactly is Optimus Prime going to get a seat in the center of the court, so he can delegate all these matters for you?” Hook said, speaking as a whole to the Autobot chairmen across the room. Likely just upset still that he’d been denied special medical privileges to Autobot hospitals.

Probably for questionable access to the resources and records.

But the offhanded comment struck a devastating chord with the audience it’d been addressed to. Megatron watched curiously as facial plates twisted in disbelief and some in outrage.

“Preferably where jou are sitting, Magnus.” Said Strika then, and hardly in jest. Significantly adding to the problem.

Megatron’s field flared beside her in quiet despair for her to silence her vocalizer. His processor spinning with the implications that he had just become the sole protector of the Autobot High Command by trying to keep his mechs civil long enough to give this peace an honest try.

Optimus, constantly challenging the council mechs himself, certainly wasn’t there to do it.

What were these negotiations doing to them?

“I second that.” Said a voice from out of the blue.

It drifted in over the polished floor from afar. Indeed, far, far beneath the deliberators’ notice.

All the way to where Saberswipe was stood guarding his respective door at full attention.

He was relatively young for a war machine and stupidly charismatic, thinking both were enough to buy him some leeway in to injecting his opinion on matters 30 sectors above his ranking. Megatron bit back an almighty need to show him which level he was on with his fusion canon then.

“You are not to speak!” Said Sentinel Prime, having recovered from Straxus’ unwavering optic-ogling assault across the way.

“Agreed,” said Alpha Trion. Not one to allow nonsense of even this caliber. Though Megatron suspected he enjoyed a lower form of it in these drawn out meetings when the mood allowed for it.

“Leave at once, guardsmen. There is no a place for you here.”

“I’ll see him out!” Said Optimus suddenly. Standing and, without anyone’s permission, making his way down the platforms and over the length of the cavernous room to greet a happily surprised looking Saberswipe.

Megatron watched with furrowed optical ridge as the taller jet’s charming smile convinced a timid smile out of the shorter mech, before they awkwardly shuffled towards the door.

“This conference will proceed without you, Optimus Prime.” Came Ultra Magnus’ first articulate sentence of the exhausting cycle, as he watched the little truck with tired optics.

“Are you sure you wish to conclude for the remainder of it?”

Optimus had stopped walking with a far too close Saberswipe at his side to address his leader then.

“I’m causing you all too much trouble.” He said as way of shoddy explanation, barely suppressing an amused smile at the Decepticon portion of the room.

“Pheh. That’s everyday.” Senator Botanica seemed to say rather warmly as the little firetruck went on his way. She was possibly one of the few who were steadily becoming too fond of the brash little mech to think badly of his efforts.

Megatron sat, watchful optics taking it all in as the two retreating mechs came even closer together as they exited the door to the chambers, centimeters apart. And feeling somewhat… disappointed all at once.

While this wasn’t an issue Optimus needed to be present for or press anymore, as hopefully the council wouldn’t deign to change subjects of debate and infringe on anybot’s rights while he wasn’t around, his presence was still…. Necessary.

To Megatron’s gargantuan surprise, Optimus Prime, creating a steady pace of good deeds and commendable civil works for even some of Megatron’s more undeserving of mechs, was, in fact, necessary.

Of all the things Megatron expected to hear during the proceeding conversation in Optimus’ absence, Shockwave leaning forward to jab a talon at Motormaster and hissing, “You just ran him off! The only sensible Autobot here!” Was not one of them.

A Decepticon as unfeeling as a slab of dead durasteel tissue, and thinking favorably about a nobody little Autobot?

Not at all…

Apparently that irritation he was sensing off Shockwave from earlier was on behalf of the little Prime’s shockingly genuine efforts for the Decepticon Cause, and not because Prime kept inserting himself into issues.

It was worrying to think the ‘Decepticon Cause’, though, had somehow shifted to a cause centered on finding themselves a place on this planet. A semi-peaceful one. One that didn’t speak of domination and death.

But even that was not more worrying than thinking his arguably lost monstrously devoid mechs would be so supportive of one little Autobot’s attempts to make that so.

————————————

It was only a matter of time until someone was going to snap. Tensions between their two peoples were too high, and Prime just had to keeping shoving his olfactory into places it didn’t belong.

Megatron was contacted almost immediately after a team of medics were by a suspiciously blocked frequency. Meaning whoever they were, they may have been involved- which didn’t narrow down who that could possibly be with so many bots on both sides making questionable choices all throughout this merging.

What he was certain of, was that Rippersnapper had seemed to have wandered too far from the other Terrorcons and was doing his damnedest to make a mess for everyone.

Which meant Megatron was now looking for a mecha sized shark-former with a thousand tonnes too many to be laying his hands on a little, overly assertive Prime- most likely having been there ordering him to leave the civilian gallery for his foul, reckless behavior. Stepping on the crystalline garden dividers and biting at the air below where terrified civilians scurried out of range to keep their helms in tact.

Megatron was beyond furious to be reduced to playing dog catcher, but with peace as precarious as it was, this was too severe an offense to go beneath him. Being their faction wide leader, Megatron was already out of his berth from a restless recharge and bounding out the docking bay to put a stop to it.

Knowing his Terrorcons (about to be the newly dubbed ‘Torn-to-pieces-Cons’ once he got ahold of him) Rippersnapper would have steadily become more and more deranged in the time Megatron had taken to fly there. Which would have been sooner, if he’d just agreed to temporary housing in the city limit already.

And Prime for his part would have surely been an overwhelming nuisance who’d deserved what Rippersnapper had served to him, no doubt. Standing up to an entire war machine and telling him that he should literally watch his mouth and learn to act like a decent mech- even if he wouldn’t have been in the wrong for it…

Megatron’s men knew what was expected of them now- what was expected of them even more so at the moment, while they hoped to outlast the final phase of these negotiations until citizenships were finally trusted to be granted to them.

And while he couldn’t fault any of them for feeling disrespected and belittled by a mech from a faction that’d had them all disgraced from their own home planet in the first place, Megatron had had to do the unthinkable to make this union work and set aside all personal grudges for the sake of his people. He’d had to let go.

At least, he had to look like he had, and so they did, too.

And now he was going to be forced to make an example out of one of them… just to prove how seriously he was going to take his massive warriors acting out in public. Just to assure the Civilian Council that he could be trusted to conduct himself professionally enough for them to take a gamble on attempting a trial of peace with him.

Beyond the fury he felt at realizing now how desperate he actually was to see this union succeed, Megatron was carefully calculating all the ways to tortuously take out his frustrations on the Terrorcon for having forced him essentially to defend the Prime who he hated most in the infinite universe.

Megatron reached the city limit and prepared to land soon.

He was going to grab Rippersnapper by the sensitive dorsal fin and pull his mechanical gills out- make him choke around Megatron’s strangling servo stuffing itself down his intake. Help him to understand, and any present to witness it, that this was intolerable, and that their master would be eating the sparks of any wretch foolish enough to do such a thing in the future.

Jeopardizing all the humiliating work Megatron had put into sitting through those brain numbing Council calls at heinous hours of the cycle in an increasingly more unordered fashion (which was somewhat bound to be the case, since they had Decepticons keeping chairs in the chambers)….

And he was in danger of losing l all of that, because one shark shifter had the split second insanity to put their hands on one of Primus’ precious chosen ones. Even a disgraced nobody Prime who was only important in title.

When Megatron arrived at the open gallery with the anonymous coordinates he’d been sent, he soon realized that none of his fantasies about brutalizing Rippersnapper would even be necessary.

To his amazement, the commended portion of Optimus Prime’s reputation as a burgeoning enthusiast for cross-faction equality had reached far and wide in the Decepticon’s ranks, and while Megatron wasn’t sure what he’d done to elicit the favor of the brilliant Combaticon leader, Onslaught, Megatron now suddenly found himself rather desperate to know.

Just how far out of the loop was he? How lost had he been to all the mountainous changes in his mechs while he was allowing his mind to focus on Magnus and the stale moving parts of the senate that’s he’d missed this?

The wondrous world he was only catching the tail-end glimpses of that Optimus Prime was hand building?

At this point, Megatron had to wonder if in the event this all did fall through, if whether it would even be a real loss, now that they had such a widely liked, capable mech like Optimus Prime so openly advocating for them.

What it would matter, though, purely beyond sentiment, amounted to very little, and their people were not attached to ideas such as that.

Megatron blinked himself back to the present so that he could assess the damage, as crowds of traumatized civil bots, watching with their backs flat to the surrounding buildings as Brawl beat a hole into the opposite side of Rippersnapper’s sternum. Missing his spark by an inch, blessedly preferring his victims to live long enough to remember the lessons he enforced. Megatron would rather not have his mechs be publicly broadcasting an infighting casualty.

Vortex was cheering Brawl on from over his shoulder, hovering too close again, about to receive another accidental, friendly-fire medbay visit.

Megatron was starting to see the necessity in Sentinel pushing for divided recreational sects in the cities, despite Optimus’ best intentions to see everyone coexist and treat one another with the proper respect.

The average civil mech didn’t possess a quarter of the foul tempered, carnal aggression a Decepticon gestalt did. Feeding off one another and causing a ruckus, encouraged further by the other supportive members of the group, aiding in some way to the destruction.

Megatron debated which position to take then.

Whether to do damage control and hoist the heavy mechs up and away from the near lifeless body, Energon puddling up beneath its cold frame, or to focus on calling for someone of Autobot authority to come separate and treat the horrified civilians present for the mental strain of what they’d just witnessed. Were still witnessing.

He’d finally had the processor to deduce that the mechs on the scene at the time that somebot had called for the ‘authorities’ must have been of Decepticon descent themselves- and they had naturally missed the point of calling for authorities entirely by calling upon a mech they assumed would allow them to finish the job first. And while he was certain now whoever they were they’d had some kind of part in all this, Megatron would admit that their assessment that he would rejoice in his warrior’s hardy bloodbath first would have been an accurate assumption in any other setting. In one where he was not currently issuing for the position of a willing protector of Cybertron.

As the Decepticon medics that’d been alerted were being painfully slow to respond to the anonymous caller -and would not have had the understanding to do so themselves- someone was going to have to tell Ultra Magnus about this…

Out of time since one breem ago, however; Megatron would have to deal with this before anyone actually useful to Prime could arrive.

His optics tracked back over to the incredibly damning sight he’d been subconsciously avoiding since he’d glanced optics over it.

Optimus was there being cradled like a broken doll against Onslaughts’ massive chestplate. Being held higher than any horrified Autobot’s brave enough to collect their mess of a Prime could reach.

There were evidently no takers around at the moment, though, which caused something odd to shift in Megatron’s core beliefs, as he considered for himself the notion that acts of blind bravery would predominantly be their jobs soon- war machines. As it had been once before the divide of their peoples.

It was the only exchange he could offer the Auotbots for the new age of peace- to protect. To fulfill once more their shackling roles as the guardians of weak, ungrateful, prejudiced little civil mechs, and face the atrocities lurking in the cosmos in lieu of the pampered, privileged, sheltered little things doing it themselves.

Oh, how these things had a way of repeating themselves. It’d left a bitter taste in his mouth… at first.

But now… seeing how easily Onslaught had resumed control of the situation so abysmally out of the little ones’ depths, undoubtedly the one to thank for saving the Prime’s life as he had…

Civilians weren’t entirely useless to their species by any means, but a Decepticon easily outweighing them in strength size and ferocity were only the start of their problems in a galaxy much, much bigger than them.

As bad as it was, this could have been far worse.

Megatron looked twice and noticed that Swindle had materialized out of thin air at some point, possibly having been there the whole time, expertly sneaking about his brother with his shorter stature. Busy trying to talk Onslaught into purchasing a cushion to elevate Prime’s dripping helm, as Onslaught wasn’t capable of much in the way of a delicate touch.

Pink dribbled down the Combaticon’s torso as he shifted the body in his servos.

Megatron did a quick sweep next to locate the only brother missing, Blast Off, and decided whatever his involvement, it was not detrimental to him securing the crisis finally.

Megatron chose action over dissertation, leaving the innocent bystanders to console themselves -thankfully a rather hardier lot than Megatron had come to realize he’d given them credit for. Some of them shaking themselves from their stupor at the sight of him and doing what the others present had neglected in their shock by calling the Autobot forces.

There, now Magnus knew…

With that decided, Megatron marched over to the supervising Combaticon leader to work towards fixing the most pressing problem at the moment.

Fixing Prime.

Onslaught’s visor dipped in his direction, as Swindle used the magic of monkey business to all but disappear again.

“Let me have this.” Megatron said as he took the Prime away.

There was no quarrel as he was unceremoniously dumped into Megatron’s single servo, as Onslaught watched their leader whisk him away to someplace unknown.

Despite having had his servos around Prime’s waist once before, hefting him up as weightlessly as a cube of Energon, he felt even lighter now.

Worried he’d lost his grip on him, Megatron stole a look down at a peek of white denta behind full lips. The badly bruised Prime slack jawed and unmoving, beyond his helm as it was lifted and supported by Megatron’s servo.

He thankfully didn’t get very far toting a battered Prime off before a pair of civilian medics arrived well ahead of his disgracefully arrogant ones.

Protocols hadn’t been set in the event of something like this. And he was considering forgiving everyone who’d done well enough to become involved for treating the situation as casually and non-life threateningly as it actually was. Few would have the foresight and understanding that walking away from a mauling like this wasn’t nearly as common a shift-end activity as it was for Decepticons.

He could have Shockwave conduct a thorough lecture on the matter later and instill in them the severity of situations like this.

He allowed the civilian medics to carry the unconscious trucker away, decidedly too awake now to attempt sleep again.

He wandered a bit, deep in thought about the behavior he’d witnessed from the fearsome, calculative, rather far removed from even the appeal to sentiment itself, Onslaught. Holding the husk of a Prime, shielding him carefully from any potential threats- essentially anybot that wasn’t himself or a mech of higher rank than him.

And he considered how easily Onslaught could protect him- any civilian. How easily they could protect these hapless, idiot things that went well out of their jurisdiction as maintenance bots to tip the world upon its head and demand it show them respect.

How fitting their new role on Cybertron felt all at once.

How wasteful it felt to think that their natural abilities would have easily been provided and cherished and appreciated by all if they had had a mech like Optimus around to fight ruthlessly for their chance to be. They’d been missing respect and loyalty, not a proper calling.

That thought struck him to the core, and he quickly dismissed it. The Cause he’d given the Decepticons was founded in spark-deep, honest conviction. They had thrived and conquered for millennia, even from the shadows, by standing proudly in their beliefs that they had been onlined with the natural born rights to.

He couldn’t… let himself… forget that. Be manipulated so carelessly astray.

Megatron noticed yet another Decepticon gestalt in the form of the ever expanding, newly banded Constructicons, moseying their way down the street to go put Rippersnapper back together again.

At their heights, it was easy for them to spot one another and salute him. And then he noticed some of their optics catching on his chest plates.

Once they had moved on to finally fulfill their roles here -leaving Megatron to wonder when Constructicons had been given the title of ‘acting medics’, beyond the carefully appointed Hook- he looked down to where they’d been staring at the single, Energon soaked palm print one little Autobot had left there.

———————-

END PART ONE, YOU’RE SAFE NOW. I split this thing up cuz HOO damn, I am just unstable when I made this. Even now there’s like two other parts, I can’t stop talking about thiiiis

For all of you that read this far, you deserved a better proofread then what you got. I know there are lots of mistakes, but if I had proofread this even twice after indulging myself as deeply as I had with all this fluff, I would have died.

Appreciation AU will be the connecting tag I use to the other parts

[cross-my-heartt]

Three Act Structure of TBB

(Part One: Season One aka Act One)

So since I’m so boldly convinced that season three will be the third act in the batch’s storyline I wanted to do a more detailed breakdown of this theory by looking back on the story so far.

It might get confusing as separate seasons can have their own internal three act structures (much like a movie from a trilogy can follow the formula on its own) which can sometimes overlap with the larger plot’s elements.

But messy is where the fun’s at and I look forward to hearing if anyone has a different interpretation of things.

Now! Here’s a simplified diagram of the three act structure:

We currently find ourselves at the end of Act Two, right after the crisis when things are looking bad for our protagonists and their plight is yet to be resolved (which happens in act three). Some diagrams point to the beginning of Act Three as being a time for rallying which makes sense in the context of the show:

The batch are scattered, our remaining trio will need to make a plan and get help before rushing in for a rescue, i.e. the climax of the third act.

But for now I want to go back to season one and look at how it fits into the larger picture. I’ll be using an article from braddailey (not putting a link to avoid being yeeted from tags) as reference here.

Act 1: The Beginning (Set-Up)

The Ordinary World (Stasis)

“In most narratives, we’ll spend some time in The Ordinary World of the protagonist. This is where we’ll learn about the rules and ways of the world, what the protagonist’s normal life is like, and who the characters of that world are.”

This is definitely something we have in our story. According to the article this stage can be very brief or even implied but what’s interesting here is that most of it is located in The Clone Wars where we get an introduction of the batch and most of the context for what their world and circumstances are like.

The beginning of Aftermath can also be part of this stage as we get some scenes with the batch on the battlefield (this time with Echo included, to show that he’s now firmly part of the team) and what their more casual dynamic looks like in the scenes in the mess hall.

Then we move on to The Inciting Incident (Call to Adventure) or rather jump back to it as it’s sort of sandwiched and spread in between:

“Inevitably, something has to change. The Inciting Incident either brings about that change, or sets into motion what will bring the change. It might define the protagonist’s goal for the story, but it certainly kicks off the journey or adventure.”

The inciting incident in this case is Order 66 and the Republic’s transition to the Empire. As we know this ushers in a ton of change for the clones by turning their world completely upside down. On a smaller scale the batch’s own normalcy is disrupted by Omega’s appearance and the activation of Crosshair’s chip, both of which are catalysts for major shifts. One regarding the batch’s goals and the other shaking up their established unity.

Refusal + Hesitation

“It’s normal for the protagonist to refuse, resist, or hesitate when the Inciting Incident comes knocking. [...]

But no matter the amount of resistance, the wheels of fate are turning, and the story is set in motion. The protagonist will make a leap of faith, and accept their quest, or they will be dragged into the story against their will.”

This stage is again interspersed throughout the season. As there’s a lot of events happening in season one, we can point to several of them being part of it: the batch refuse to complete their mission of killing the refugees which puts them at odds with the Empire. They commit to escaping and leaving their old lives behind. They take a leap of faith when they don’t leave Omega with Cut and Suu, thus accepting her as a major source of change for their group.

All in all the events that follow in the season all focus on adaption and the batch finding their way around this new world. They sometimes hesitate, sometimes argue but mainly they are now in the thick of it and forced to make important choices that determine the course of their story.

(Interestingly enough the article points to the source of this stage being fear of change. The first person to resist change, either by his own will or not, is Crosshair and his refusal and/or inability to change is what becomes his main theme in the show and is also what separates him from the rest of the batch.)

Act One ends with a climax of its own which for season one is the events on Kamino, i.e.:

The End of the Beginning

“By the end of Act 1, or the beginning of your story, the reader/viewer should usually know:

Who the protagonist is What their ordinary world is like What the nature of the quest is Who or what the sources of antagonism are Who some of the supporting characters are”

So our protagonists are now the batch with the new addition of Omega. We could argue that Crosshair is on a different path at this point which is proven by how little screen time he gets in comparison to the others in the next season.

We’ve had enough episodes to know what the batch’s new reality looks like at this point. We know what their dynamic with Cid is and that they constantly need to fend off the Empire when they come into contact with it. There’s also the reality of an overarching dilemma: to stand and fight or put survival first.

The main nature of their quest for now is to survive however and in particular: to survive with a new more vulnerable member in their group and adapt to life with them.

The sources of antagonism are the Empire and unfortunately, by extension, Crosshair. We may not see him come into direct conflict with the batch anymore but he has lost his status as protagonist for the time being. We’ve established that at this stage his goals and values differ from those of his brothers’.

And finally we’ve had good introductions to some of our secondary cast: Cid, Howzer, Rampart, Gregor and Rex have all been integrated into the story.

All that’s left is to move on to the next act, the one that has the least defined internal structure of the three but generally involves: “[the protagonist] learning new things, testing what they learn, making mistakes, and probably meeting new people.”

Sound familiar? Yeah, that’s season two if you ask me.

But if some of this sounds like things that have already happened that’s because season one has its own, albeit vague, internal three act structure, with its own climaxes, twists and obstacles.

There are all the elements of an act 1 in Aftermath with it introduction of several major changes, the point of no return or the climax of act 1 (the batch’s escape), the mini arcs of act 2 as well as its midpoint with its moment of clarity and revelation (learning about the chips).

Finally, we can point to either War-Mantle (Hunter’s capture) or Return to Kamino (the bombing of Tipoca) as the act two climax, with the characters’ situation looking dire and hopeless before the events (resolution) of Kamino Lost. And while a single episode might seem rushed to be an entire third act on its own, it’s not obligatory for the third act to be as long as its counterparts.

In fact act 2 takes up the majority of the season, with acts 1 and 3 being a very small portion of it. That's because tv series leave a lot more room for their protagonists to grow, evolve, go on side quests and experience minor setbacks that help build character, introduce subplots or facilitate world building.

But anyway these are my two cents on season one. Again, my point of reference is the article on Three Act Structure on braddailey dot com which I highly recommend. There will of course be a part two for season two so please look out for that one!

(Uhh if anyone wants to be tagged for it lmk? Please, I'll combust before I tag anyone without their explicit permission.)