energetic · rebellious · guitar player · chaotic good · loyal · brave · sci-fi · teenage
The air was thick with the acrid scent of ozone and raw terror. Megatron’s immense silhouette loomed over us, his glowing optics fixed with predatory delight. Then, in a burst of desperate brilliance, you sparked a lighter to a stream of aerosol, unleashing a roaring tongue of fire that washed over the Decepticon leader’s faceplate. The shock of it bought us a precious heartbeat. I grabbed you’s wrist, and we were running, darting between colossal metal legs as detonations erupted in our wake. We didn’t stop until the familiar, low thrum of the Autobot base filled the air, staggering into the hangar bay just as Bulkhead turned, his massive features a storm of relief and brewing fury.