An_Optimist_Prime



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Spock murmurs, “I cannot imagine a universe in which it is not my life’s duty to protect you. You are — “ he has to search for the right words, in Jim’s language. “You are — most dear to me, of all things.”

    Language:
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    08 Mar 2019

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Derek Hale is a lucky guy. He's got a great family, good friends, and a fulfilling job as a tattoo artist.

    He's also one of the twenty-five per cent of the population born with a soul mark.

    He likes his life, but he's waiting for his soul-match. The odds of meeting them aren't great but hey, Derek's a lucky guy. He has faith.

    He can't believe how good his luck really is when one day his soul-match wanders right into his studio, all long limbs and copper eyes. There's just one problem: Stiles is there to get his soul mark covered up. Permanently.

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    01 Mar 2019

  3. Public Bookmark 21

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    There is no morgue on the Nemesis so they lay the body in his workshop. That which is left behind becomes a memorial to their owner, a morbid display of scattered tools and half formed projects. Each spilled screw and scorch mark evidence of a life stolen.

    Megatron sits vigil, unable to separate the body from his sight. Standing guard over the lifeless form as if, should the spark dare to return, he might greet it like a friend.

    “You've outdone yourself this time, Starscream.” He whispers to shadows and only silence responds. “You've finally found a way to hurt me.”

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    02 Dec 2018

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “We can’t just leave him here to die.”

    “He’s an emissary, Scott.” Derek tried to make his tone empathetic, but Scott’s tendency to fight back on everything always grated on his nerves. “His pack is gone, he won’t survive more than a day or two either way.”

    “Then we should stay with him.”

    Derek sighed as he studied the man for a moment; he was too pale against the fur rim of his hood, almost grey from lying out in the snow, and his cloak was stained with dark dried blood around a protruding arrow shaft. It was unlikely he would even last the night. They would probably be able to carry on in the morning with little time lost, if any.

    It wasn’t a horrible idea, Derek decided reluctantly. They hadn’t been able to set up a real camp for a few weeks in the open foothills, and they were all on edge from sleeping in exposed areas. A defensible place to sleep would be good for them, even if they were surrounded by death. They would be able to give the pack proper burials, at the very least.

    “Fine. One night,” Derek relented, already moving away to check on Isaac. “He’s your responsibility.”

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    08 Jun 2018

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “I’m serious Derek,” Stiles whispers. “Come home.”

    Language:
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    08 Jun 2018