Damn Bro, You Got The Whole Squad Laughing

Damn bro, you got the whole squad laughing

Dumb Ways to Die Snippet

I've been working on this in my free time when no other Au or fic feels like functioning. It is goofy and will turn serious later. For now though, enjoy a tired Reaper Ratchet as he is forced to deal with one very clumsy Orion Pax.

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“Reaper.” The Primes sat upon their lofty thrones, their gazes chilly and without emotion. Ratchet knelt before them, his helm bowed respectfully. He abhorred having to lower himself, but there was no denying the superiority of the creatures that watched him with optics so alien that it was hard to believe they were once living beings at all.

“Primus’s chosen has been forged in the living realm. He cannot be allowed to perish until his duty is complete.” Ratchet sighed as the unspoken order registered. This was one of his duties, regardless of whether or not he liked it. As a Reaper, he was not only to collect the dead and guide them home, but he was also obliged to watch over specific sparks that had divine plans that involved them.

He hadn’t actually had to deal with such a thing before. A few other Reapers had been assigned to mecha of importance, but Ratchet was new. He had only joined the ranks of the Reapers shortly after the Quintessons were driven from Cybertron’s surface. A bitter part of his mind reminded him that the reason he was probably receiving this assignment was because of his ranking amongst the Reapers. The pricks higher up on the chain had most likely seen fit to throw the work on him so they didn’t have to bother watching out for a fragile mortal for millennia on end.

Those slaggers. 

“You will watch over him and ensure his continued functioning until you are recalled.” One Prime spoke. Ratchet didn’t dare look up to see who. It was not his place.

“You are permitted to restore him regardless of his injuries so long as there is a rational reason that the order may use to make the repairs real.” Another’s voice rang out, powerful and commanding. If Ratchet were still living, he was sure his plating would be flaring in instinctual fear. At that moment, he was more than thankful for his lack of physical frame as he nodded in understanding.

“Watch over him, Reaper. He is a kind spark.” A firm but definitely feminine voice echoed. He knew her voice. She was the one who chose new Reapers to add to the order. She was the one who stood beside his dying frame and soothed him, promising him a chance to continue living in another form.

“I trust that you out of all our Reapers will tend to him faithfully.” He risked looking up so that he could see Solus Prime smile. Viewing the trust in her expression had all the anger in his spark dissipating like smoke. If it was her order that had him in his new station, then he could accept it. Surely the one she had chosen him to watch over couldn’t be too difficult to keep alive, right?

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“This is the third time this stellar cycle, mortal.” Ratchet wanted to bang his helm against a wall as he greeted his target yet again. Orion Pax was, once more, dying of a shattered spine after falling down the stairs in the Archives. 

“I apologize, Reaper. I promise I did in fact watch where my pedes were going this time. But unfortunately-” 

“You lost hold of your datapad and scrambled to grab it, leading to your tumble of doom.” Ratchet finished for him. Orion shuffled in the void, his expression the embodiment of embarrassment. This was not the first time they met, nor would it be the last at this rate.

Ratchet hadn’t been assigned to the Archivist for a full vorn yet, and Orion had somehow managed to die in over twenty ways in less than twelve deca-cycles. It was honestly quite spectacular. How he managed to last so long prior to Ratchet’s arrival was a complete and total mystery to him at this point.

“Forgive me. I shall do my best to improve and pay closer attention to my surroundings.” Orion bowed his helm slightly, his wispy form shifting as Ratchet rubbed the soft metal beneath his optics and prepared to do what he always did. 

“I’ve heard that enough times already. Don’t bother making a promise you can’t keep.” Sighing, Ratchet stepped forward and grasped at Orion’s spark. His ghostly form disappeared in an instant, and Ratchet exercised what control he had to build himself an avatar. It was as easy as venting for him, in large part due to the frequency of which he was forced to revive his target, but also due to his relative youth amongst the Reapers. He remembered what it was like to live, and that made entering the living realm easier.

“Slag, you really messed yourself up.” Looking down, Ratchet almost wanted to gag. He had been a medic prior to his death. He’d seen more than enough corpses to be largely unphased. And yet somehow, Orion Pax always managed to kill himself in both the most ridiculous and unsettling ways possible.

“Let’s get this over with.” Wishing he could be anywhere else, Ratchet knelt before the shattered corpse of Orion Pax and slowly eased the Archivist’s spark back into his frame. Mangled limbs straightened with painful sounding cracks, shattered spinal struts clicked into place while popping like bubble wrap. Before long, the Archivist gasped and coughed as his systems came back online. He lived again.

Excuse me but am I the only one who didn’t know that the day after Kamino the media started calling All Might the “Symbol of the Dead”?!!!

Megatron: That's it! Soundwave cut the internet!

Vehicon: Please no! I have family to fed!

Megatron:.. What?

Vehicon: My neopets are starving!

Oh my goodness.

Megatron turning off the internet: You've lost internet rights.

Every Vehicon in a ten mile radius: *Inconsolable sobbing*

Starscream from his room: FRAG I WAS IN A RANKED MATCH!

Knockout from the medical bay: NO! THEY WERE ABOUT TO FINISH RENOVATING THE HOUSE!

Breakdown: *Wailing over his frozen episode of My Little Pony*

Soundwave: *Doing just fine in his room with his hotspot*

Megatron: ...

Megatron: Guys, you all have a problem.

and what if something goes wrong during a mission? (au)

These photos especially hurt me.

The face he makes when he’s told he isn’t needed anymore. Something he’s known for a long time. He KNOWS he shouldn’t be alive, and that he’s only a burden to everyone now; especially Deku.

The face of heartbreak. Of understanding Deku’s position. He understands more than anyone possibly could. He held the world up by himself for over 40 years. I know how you feel. I know it feels to want to protect everyone, especially those closest to you. And the only way to do so is to leave them behind. Distance and Isolate yourself completely so you can’t get too attached to anyone. Because if you do, and the villains find out, it would feel impossible to live on knowing it was your fault they died. Because you endangered them by just being around them. Loving them. It’s only now, that I’ve allowed myself to live, that I can see how wrong I was to believe that. You shouldn’t have to suffer the same way I did. I can’t let you!

When he falls to the ground, he first lands on his torso. Which feels significant given the mortal wound there, as well how the normal pain in his side has moved to his chest. And even though the pain of having a misshapen, broken body can be extremely debilitating, the pain he now feels is absolutely unbearable.

The bento box. Sure it’s wasted food. But the fact that kills me is how lovingly he made it himself for his boy. Imagine him in their makeshift shelter, which may just be an abandoned building or apartment, carefully using the best ingredients he could find, to make a meal and feed his overworked son. The son he’s more than just a little worried about. It’s all he can think about.

But he busies himself preparing the rice, keeping an eye on the meat to be thoroughly cooked but not burnt, and then cutting it into small strips so his boy can easily grab it with his chopsticks while on the move without having to worry about cutting it himself. Protein. That’s what Deku needs most. And vegetables to keep his strength up. Everything is prepared as perfectly as possible in the short amount of time he has between following Deku to every villain attack.

He already knows the boy isn’t eating on his own. He did the same when he was a hero. Sometimes going for days without a proper meal in order to Protect. Toshi didn’t have anyone to help him with this, save for the few years Nighteye was with him. And that’s why he knows exactly what Deku needs.

After meticulously putting together the food in the bento box, he wraps it his signature bunny cloth…only to have Deku reject not only the meal, but HIM as well. Watching the boy walk away from him raises a memory of himself doing the same to Nighteye in the hospital. He now knows how Nighteye felt when he turned his back on him. Nighteye had left, unable to watch him slowly kill himself.

But Toshi can’t leave. Deku is all. He. Has. The only reason he’s still alive.

And yet, the food he prepared for his boy, the love he put into it to nourish him, ends up spilt. Splattered in the mud. Ruined. Rejected. Wasted…The food too.

And this final scene. Seeing this was so painful in the manga. I imaged he was crying, or trying not to. And my heart ached just thinking about it. But finally being able to hear it, to hear that yes, he is in fact crying, audibly, for the first time without holding himself back…that’s what finally shattered me.