Sari [covers Ratchet's Optics]: Guess Who?

Sari [covers Ratchet's optics]: Guess who?

Ratchet: It's either Sari, or the cold, clammy hands of death.

Sari: It's Sari!

Ratchet: Dammit.

Any other older siblings getting massive flashbacks to when you accidentally make your little sibling cry and then you’re trying to calm them down before the parents find out?

Fourty. Chapters.

My longest fic ever. It aint even close to done yet. Yeah im going to put it here because I am very proud of myself for pumping out like, three chapters in a week.

/dsmp /rp

Thinking again about how Dream's trust in other people got irrevocably torn down throughout the prison arc. How even after all the blackmailing and all the murder attempts, Dream had expected people to be fair and play by the rules. To keep their word, just like he always did.

But then Sam almost immediately deviated from the prison protocol. He isolated and starved Dream, he let a torturer in and trapped Dream's one chance of escape in the cell with him. Sapnap threatened to kill him if he ever got out. And it got to the point where Dream believed that Techno, one of his only allies, would not even come back for him.

When he was finally free, Dream decided that the only option left was to kill everyone who was against him and Punz. Otherwise, he thought the others would "force" them to revive whoever they killed. It wouldn't surprise me if he imagined that this "forcing to revive" would likely entail torture. He had already seen how far some people were willing to go for the power of revival, after all.

No longer would Dream give people the benefit of the doubt. No longer would he trust them to treat him fairly, to see him as a person. Either they sided with him, or they died.

have you ever read a fanfic so good that you wanted to write a fanfic about that fanfic, but was too shy / too intimidated to ask for the author’s permission and too afraid that your writing wouldn’t be half as good as theirs and that it would be an insult to their work that was basically a literal masterpiece, so you just sat there fantasizing about their work and how beautiful it was and how you wished you could just eat it and how you wished canon could write your blorbos half as good as this writer did and how you just wanted to cry because you just loved that fic so much????

All those bugs are fun and all, but what if the bots were patrolling in a more high grass environment and then suddenly the whole field lights up (they’ll probably think they set off some sort of explosive and they kinda did). Then a huge swarm of fireflies comes flying around. I don’t think they would think it’s that gross but they’re more amazed by their hypnotizing beauty and nature.

This requires a short written scene.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Generally speaking, Ratchet hated insects. It wasn't just that the abominable little things looked like even smaller scraplets, but it was also in large part due to how... odd they were. If he looked at them with the optics of a Doctor, he could appreciate their formation and structure. Carapaces to shield from danger, senses on par with any far larger being, abilities that bordered on supernatural in light of their small size-

The list went on.

And yet, he still had to believe that he hated insects. So spindly, far too similar to the monsters of Cybertron. How could he possibly enjoy them in any capacity outside of the realms of medicine?

"Ratchet! Look!"

Smokescreen ran through the field, his pedes thudding with every step as hundreds of the small glowing insects ascended into the sky. They fluttered about aimlessly, their tiny frames flaring with bioluminescent light that vaguely reminded Ratchet of home.

"They are called Fireflies." Optimus supplied as he stood still in the center of it all, his optics drawn to the creatures that hovered around him. The glint in his optics told the tale of an Archivist not yet completely torn from his nature. The Prime held up a digit, allowing one of the fireflies to land on it. He smiled, and Ratchet found himself a little lighter seeing it.

"So small..." Bumblebee's binary voice chimed in. He reached out, barely prodding the little things as his optics spiraled wide in wonder. His door wings fluttered, and beside him Arcee smiled as she held the children in her servos. They were pointing in awe, glee etched onto their features.

Bulkhead and Wheeljack were doing their best to put a few of the insects into jars, but their digits combined with comparatively tiny containers and creatures led to them struggling mightily. They floundered in a desperate attempt to catch the bugs without crushing them. Ultra Magnus stood stiffly around the edge of the field, but even from a distance, Ratchet could sense ease from him.

He returned his gaze to the insects glowing above. If he didn't focus on the differences, he could almost imagine he was back on Cybertron enjoying the forests during a cycle off from the clinic.

He hated insects, but maybe just for a moment he could learn to appreciate them.