echoes of pain

451 16 1
                                    

➵ echoes of pain | 𝟎𝟐𝟖◟ 𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗜 ◞ ₊˚⊹♡𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚁𝚊𝚒𝚗𝙳𝚛𝚘𝚙 ‹𝟹

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

➵ echoes of pain | 𝟎𝟐𝟖
◟ 𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗜 ◞ ₊˚⊹♡
𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚁𝚊𝚒𝚗𝙳𝚛𝚘𝚙 ‹𝟹

Ever since (Y/N) left with Skyquake, she left a sense of unease in everyone

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Ever since (Y/N) left with Skyquake, she left a sense of unease in everyone. They felt empty without her power—which was an understatement, they needed her power, especially in the dark times they found themselves in.

It was like they were at the tip of a sword about to fall into the depths of a complete breakdown, a breakdown that was not dared to be uttered in fear it would tip all them of the sword.

Ratchet was effected the most weighed down by guilt. He believed it was all his fault. Every whisper he heard regardless of it was about him or not, felt like an accusation, stabbing him right in the spark.

He was reckless and had an insatiable hunger for power that had cost them dearly—the loss of their guardian. The tainted synthetic energon had corroded his circuits, leaving behind a trail of self-recrimination that he couldn't shake.

Bumblebee, fought to uphold his cheerful demeanor, but beneath the surface of his bright yellow plating, he held a slight aggression bubbled, threatening to boil over.

His usual kind and preppy nature masked subtle displays of passive-aggression. Raf, caught glimpses of these subtle shifts, a growing unease settling in his gut. Reluctant to confront his friend about the mounting tension.

Bulkhead's normal nature was overshadowed by his deep-seated concern, his anxiety written plainly across his features and Arcee, clung fiercely to those she felt she had left, which was her team and Jack. Her defensive instincts heightened to a fever pitch.

Optimus, had his seriousness amplified by the conspicuous absence of his guardian. He acknowledged the palpable void left in her wake, his concern weighing heavily upon him.

He was so worried to the point of the very thought of her was disrupting his ability to recharge nightly, his optics bright and blue, lighting up his face plate. Yet, he maintained the facade, playing to the unspoken agreement they had all made—that she was safe and away from harm, simply attending to matters of cosmic significance, and that she would return soon.

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒  tfp Where stories live. Discover now