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withered-tears · 10 months

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Sometimes, it was easy to forget that the autobots aren't human.

Well, not in the literal sense. Of course they aren't human. They are giant alien robots that turn into cars, for goodness sake.

But they talk like humans. They walk like humans. Even the way they think sometimes feels extremely human-like.

So sometimes, yes, it is easy to forget they are not human.

This had the unfortunate side effect of, unintentionally, see more than one situation through a human filter, so to speak.

Such as, for example, their durability.

Because when Bulkead ran through the groundbridge carrying Bee's body, with Arcee running next to him carrying Bee's head, every human present in the base froze.

Jack's eyes were wide open, face growing pale.

Miko, in contrast, was looking almost green. Hands clasping her mouth, either to stop herself from sobbing or puking. Tears were streaming down her face.

June, although horrified, was focusing solely on keeping Raf in place.

Raf was the worst. As soon as he saw Bee, he started screaming.

June was doing her best to try and comfort the kid while keeping him from running to his friend's body. Hugging him against her chest to keep him from looking at the horrible visage.

Agent Fowler was grim, fists and teeth clenched. When Cliffjumper died, he was the one who dealt with the horrible bureaucracy of asking the bots about proper protocol. About post-mortem condecoration, about burial rites, about tradition and wishes.

Now, at least he knew the proper way to proceed, which boils down to let the bots do as they please with their dead and keep any nosy superior out of their business.

Then Ratchet spoke.

"Finally. Bulkhead, drop him in a berth, and bring me the second crate of spares. Arcee, bring the head here. I want to start running diagnostics before- Bulkhead! The second crate! I'll have to repair most ports on Bumblebee's neck, f not replace them outright."

June was the first human to speak.

"What do you mean 'repair' his ports?"

Bumblebee's head had been cut off. Surely there's no repairing that, right?

Ratchet rolled his optics (once again, such human-like gestures) at the question, barely paying any mind to the humans as he worked on Bumblebee's head.

"What, you expected me to just shove his head in place and wrape tape around it? Sorry to disappoint, but reattaching a head is a bit more complicated than-"

"Bee's alive?"

Raf's voice was awful. Voice cracking and filled with such fragile, fragile hope.

Ratchet's eyes widened (so human-like) in surprise before his entire demeanor changed.

He carefully and gently picked up Raf to bring him closer to his workstation.

"Of course he's alive. Here, look. Although his neck was severely damaged, his processors, his brain module, are unscathed. The sudden lost of power caused them to crash, which is why I'm running diagnostics through his software."

Raf, small, young, terrified, and brilliant Raf, was quickly putting the information together.

"So it's like, it's like a computer that got unplugged without being properly turned off first?"

It was obvious Ratchet was not happy being compared to such inferior, human technology. But he held any complaints to himself.

"Yeah, something like that, kid. As I said, I have to check every port in his neck to make sure they won't overload his processors once I reconnect them. Not to mention, all vital components on a cybertronian body not only receive power from the spark and energon processing, but they also store a small portion of it. Like an internal battery. Bumblebee's brain could be kept powered off for years without any side effects, other than some minor lag once reactivated. Not that his repairs will take nearly that long. I'll have Bumblebee back online in a couple of days, a week at most."

Raf was sniffing, wiping his face with his sleeves. "Can, can I help?" His voice was still scratchy.

Ratchet huffed, trying really hard to sound annoyed.

"Why not. Might as well have a second pair of optics double-checking the code. Maybe you'll even learn something."

Yeah, the Autobots were not human.

But they sure acted human-like often enough.

#transformers #ratchet #tfp #transformers prime #tfp raf #my writing #my fics #look i just love the idea of ratchet being a grumpy old man but having a soft spot for raf

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tinydefector · 16 days

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Hello! How are you? This is my first time requesting so I hope this is okay, but can I request a shorter scenario g1 Optimus, Ratchet, Jazz and Ironhide with a human s/o lives for chaos? They would point at Megatron and say ‘bitch’ just for the reaction. 🩵

Cursing Megatron out

Ps I'm sleep deprived af it's 12am right now and just finished this so enjoy.

Word count: 2.3k

Warning: description of fighting, swearing

________________

Optimus Prime

They yell loudly as Megatron goes to grab them, they smash him in the face with a tire iron as he is then tackled by Optimus. The Decepticon leader had ruined their date night. They flip him off as Optimus throws Megatron across the ground, his servo wraps around them quickly pulling them closer as they scramble up onto his shoulder. "Eat shit and die Fuck face!" They yell at Megatron.

Optimus clutched their small form protectively against his plating, battling protocols roaring. Had circumstances been different, the Prime would have roared in fury at your fierce defence against the tyrant but he was dealing with trying to keep them safe.

Megatron howled, clutching a fist to his dented face as energon streamed between digits. His optics blazed murder, craving nothing more than to snuff the fluttering spark of Optimus' and the human he held so closely.

"You've made a grave error this day, little beast. No corpse shall hide you from my wrath!" Megatron bellowed, brandishing his fusion cannon as if to raze the very earth. His field screamed promised agony that sent lesser mechs scampering for shelter.

Optimus vented his battle mask into place, tucking them securely against the safety of his backstrut. weapons primed and wrathful fields promising eons of hurt against any who dared to touch his Human.

"You shall not harm them, Megatron. Leave. now. while your spark yet functions," Optimus warned in a voice low and in a heavy growl that sounded feral and unlike the Prime.

"Maybe you should get Shockwave to give you a facial reconciliation!, oh wait I did it already!" They sneer back from Optimus' shoulder at Megatron. Their teeth are bared at him as they snarl. If anyone else had seen the human they would have thought they were an animal.

Optimus suppressed an amused sigh at their show of fangs, so small yet fearless against the monster terrorising his people for millennia. Megatron bellowed in foaming rage, lunging toward where they perched upon Optimus's armoured pauldron. "Insolent pest! I shall grind your bones to powder and force-feed them to - aggh!"

A well-placed shot from Optimus's ion blaster struck the warlord, toppling the tyrant shrieking to the dirt. "Last warning, Megatron. Leave. or face me," Optimus rumbled, field pulsing protectiveness intertwined with fierce Protection.

With a snarl Megatron takes off. Once both Optimus and his human lover settle from the adrenaline and battle protocols. Optimus cradled their small form within his battle-worn servo, venting slow ex-vapor to purge lingering fumes. His optics dimly regarded their fragile body.

"That was a foolish act of bravery, little one," Optimus rumbled gently, digit carefully brushing across their forehead and down their cheek admiring their eyes alight with fire. His spark swelled at the determination.

"Sorry, I.. I got caught up in the moment, he missed me off ruining date night" they huff out while pressing their face into his neck cabling. Their body shakes from the adrenaline. "I hit Megatron with a tire iron" they whisper as it slowly registers in their own brain.

Optimus vented a soft huff of static, equal parts worry and weary amusement filling his field at their admission. "A valiant act indeed, though foolhardy against one as powerful as he," rumbled Optimus, vocals warm with approval despite the danger of the situation. His optics flicker in fondness. “Please do not do that again”

Ratchet

Megatron let's out a horrific scream as he gets electrocuted. He hadn't noticed the humans who had shoved the taser between the plates of his armour. "Get Tazered Bitch, not so fucking tough now huh?" They shout at the downed Decepticon only to be scooped up by Ratchet. Ratchet swept them into his servo with a staticky huff, deftly dodging the warlord's flailing blows as voltage shocks wracked Megatron's colossal frame. His field buzzed approval at their fearless defence of him.

"Reckless sparkling! You'll deactivate my rusting struts with stunts like that," Ratchet grumbled, though optics shone bright relief beneath grizzled plating. Megatron howled upon the earth, shaking off aftershocks that would crush the stoutest Autobot, madness glinting a terrifying helm snapped halfway 'twixt beast and machine.

Ratchet backed swiftly from flailing reach, hoisting their small form beyond harm's sight. Ratchet takes off transforming around them before he begins scolding the for how stupid they were, how dangerous it was. And the fact Megatron would personally hunt them now.

"Have you any idea how foolish that stunt was?!" Ratchet's engine revved indignantly even as he sped across the scarred earth, his cabin vibrating with barely-suppressed wrath and equal measure relief.

His sensors remained fixed upon the precious organic cargo nestled within his altforms cab, monitoring vital readings "Do you want a personal vendetta from Megatron? Because that's how you get a personal vendetta, you glitched little slagger!" Medical scans analysed each minute shift of breath.

"Reckless, Just...do not scare me so, small one," Ratchet rumbled quietly, worried and care etched in every bolt and wire.

"He had it coming Ratchet, plus that Amazon taser is getting a 10/10. 'WORKS GREAT, I Tazed a large alien warlord and he screamed like a bitch, will in fact work on creeps on the street' " they laugh while they look in the revision mirror to make sure they aren't being followed by said Decepticon.

Despite himself, Ratchet's engine sputtered an amused huff at their tone - so fearless in the face of giants who had destroyed armies. "Oh I've no doubt - the reviews certainly won't lack colour!" Ratchet agreed wryly, subtly activating scanners to sweep their escape route while watchful optics remained pinned to their reflection.

His vents sighed relief upon confirming no stalking signatures upon their trail, enemy or otherwise. Swinging wide the Ark's bunker doors, Ratchet transformed with care not to jostle his delicate cargo. Blue optics peered down aglow with a glare "Come now, troublemaker. No more outings for the next month for you while the oaf licks his wounds." His states while guiding them to the medbay.

“no fair Ratchet!”

Jazz

They cling onto Jazz as the bot hides behind a boulder, multiple autobots had been out when the Decepticons had attacked. They are held tightly by Jazz as he debates the best possible to get them out of there unscaved.

Jazz vented softly, hugging their form protectively against his plating as pedefalls rumbled outside their scant cover.

"Ain't nothin' t'fear, li'l light. Ol' Jazz'll getcha outta here one piece, ya feel me?" he murmured soothing static against their ear, subtly scanning surroundings through plating. An opening presented itself, if he could provide distraction just long enough...

Pressing a swift kiss to their forehead, Jazz.” Go, sweetspark! Ain't got but a klik - I'm right behind ya!" Jazz called desperately over the roar of weapons, swerving and banking with abandon to keep pursuers engaged but alive.

"Hey ol' buckets 'a bolts! Over here!" With that, he peeled from cover in a burst of speed, transforming mid-leap to present the biggest possible target, tailfins flared wide. Weapon systems engaged, greeting the three pursuing seekers with enthusiastically snarky exclamations as he led them on a merry chase. His sole purpose in those seconds - buy precious time, before sharply veering back toward cover with afterburners blazing.

They do take off running but stop as they see Megatron advancing towards Jazz. They aren't far from either bot and in a split moment of bravery or stupidity their shoe is off and being flung right at Megatron's helm. "Your shit ass piece of Junk you lay a fucking hand on my boyfriend and I'll rip you apart with a fucking Magnet and plyers, don't you fucking test me you dipper wearing, goofy as looking supervillan wannabe!" They shout. It make the whole battlefield go almost dead silent. " Yea you fucking hear my bucket head, ill make you wish you were rusting!" They shout again.

Jazz's optics widened in horror behind his visor, witnessing your defiant act through static-laced vision. Fear gripped his struts like freezing polyhexian tundra.

Megatron's helm barely shifted from the impact, regarding their small form with optics glinting cruel amusement. His cannon charged with purpose to squash resistance as pointless and fleeting as an organic.

"Foolish creature. Your lives mean less than insects" Megatron sneered, taking ponderous steps their way that may as well have been a funeral march. The field around him broadcast murderous intentions that sent even the seasoned warriors around bolting for cover.

Jazz would not be denied. With a grief-stricken keen that curdled energon in lines, he flung himself between you and that doom-wielding arm aiming to end what meaning he had left. His field pulsed frenzied protectiveness tangled with pleas no words could voice.

"Ya want 'em, Megs, you'll hafta go through me first! An' I been dancin' this dance a long time..." Jazz spat static. Jazz was quick to get them out of there grabbing them and taking off. It isn't until they were back at the Ark did he finally transform, arms wrapped around them as he gives the a peace of his mind.

Jazz clutched their body against his chest plates long after abandoning the battle site, fleeing farther than ever felt safe from those sworn to end all he had left. His engine roared wildly, fuel pump pounding faster than any sabotage mission's duration against the relief of delivering them from harm.

Only within the Ark's fortified bunker did his struts unlock enough to collapse wearily to the floor, holding them close as grateful cries and static escaped in equal measure. "Don't you ever fraggin' do that ta me again, ya hear?" Jazz gasped brokenly at last, cupping their face desperately within his quaking palm. His visor glimmered tears unshed, relief and terror warning in equal measure.

"Can't lose ya...yer all Ah got left in this mess. Please, li'l light...don' scare me like that." Raw emotion clogged his vocalizer to near uselessness, pressing reverent kisses between choked intakes.

"He was going right for you baby!, I'm not letting the 3 tonne prick hurt you, so what I lost a shoe next time it will be a hydro flask of salt water and I hope it dents his helm" they state as they grab his face plate returning his kisses with fevor.

Jazz huffed a static-tinged laugh at their fierce declaration, so brave yet trembling in his gentle grasp. His cooling fans cycled accelerated drafts, systems still buzzing from terrors faced alone to shield them from doom's sightless gaze.

"Frag if ya ain't the bravest thing this side'a Cybertron," Jazz rumbled. He pressed his faceplate into their shoulder holding them tightly, not willing to let go yet. Curling them protectively against the humming mass of his spark, Jazz vented shaky ex-vents. "Mah brave, beautiful li'l light...keep shinin' that fire, sweetspark." Jazz whispered raggedly into their shoulder.

Ironhide

Ironhide shoots at Megatron. His human companion latched to his back as he uses his body as a shield so the war lord couldn't get them. But they were making it rather hard as they tried antagonising Megatron.

"Damn did they build you like a shit box on Cybertron or did you pick this form yourself!" They shout out.

Ironhide careened across the scarred terrain, engine roaring as his heavy cannons unloaded volley after volley into the Con warlord's encroaching chassis. Megatron's howls shook the earth, armour blistering under Ironhide's righteous fury for daring to threaten his human lashed securely to broad backstruts.

"That's it, slaggertits, dance for me!" Ironhide bellowed back at Megatron.

Megatron lunged forward through a hailstorm of plasma, cannons charging in a frenzy to end lives denying his rule. But Ironhide spun on a dime, releasing another blast to cave in an optical relay before transforming ram-tight around you both.

His engine pounded like the Pit below, field alive with devotion harsh as his bearing yet gentle as newborn sparks flickering against red-and-blue armorweave. When Megatron gets too close they lob a can of WD-40 At him which Ironhide shoots cause it to explode in his face. "Get sunbeam shitlips!" They yell in delight as Ironhide takes off with them trying to get to safety.

"That's enough outta you, squishy," Ironhide rumbled, yet his cannons sang in harmony with your unbound spirit. His mission remained unchanged - shield the light of life, defying all forces that sought to smother its radiance. Ironhide's cannon fire consumed the volatile projectile in a brilliant fireball, engulfing Megatron in inferno. As they take off leaving Megatron in a fireball of energon and wounds.

"Right in the visual output, squishy!. Primus, I think I'm in love," Ironhide roared instatically, tires biting earth as he tore across the ravaged wastes well beyond enemy sensors. His spark soared like the smelting winds of Vos. Ironhide's engine purred a low rumble as his struts unwound, tension leaching from armour plating now safe. His field pulsed weariness, yet underlying it swirled pride and fierce gratitude for your indomitable spirit so small, yet burned brighter than any star.

"Can't say I approve of y'all's antics out there, squishy. But Primus if you didn't frag up that rustbucket good," Ironhide chuckled, copper-sheened plating creaking in amusement. Never had he witnessed such fearless bravery, nor met a soul so worthy of the praise.

"He had it coming, Ironhide!You're not going to tell prime are you?" They had just faced down Megatron and cursed him out yet they were worried over being ratted out. Ironhide's engine grumbled a tired huff, his massive frame unwinding into a sprawl across the barren earth. He transforms lifting them up into his arms

"I'd be a fool to deny you put the fear of Primus in that rustbucket," Ironhide chuckled. "But Prime's got enough weighin' his wires. Don't need him fryin' more circuits over our antics." A digit gently booped their nose, gaze softening. "Your spark burns brighter than all the Well's glory. Ain't no mech takin' that from you - least of all one as glitching as Megs."

"Our secret?" They asked looking up at him.

"Our secret, squishy.” Ironhide replied, massive frame creaking gently as massive fingers curled to cradle them against his chassis.

Taglist: @angelxcvxc

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witchofthesouls · 27 days

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Sam ending up throught groundbringe fuckery in Tfp would be such a vacation for him i think. Less action, less aliens ripping each other to shreds every miniute, the difference between how bay formers and tfp formers look.. Sam would look at tfp cons deadpan not afraid at all

Meanwhile the kids in Bayverse would get treated like sparklings probably(wattch Miko growl once at a con and promptly get adopted) Raf especially. Jack would take one look at everything and just go to work in NEST cafeteria until others can figure a way back home for him, Miko and Raf because he's NOT getting involved in this housefire(would avoid bay!Op like a plague something something honorary prime nonsense)

Sam is right there, chilling and spazzing on the minor things (to everyone else in TFP), while completely blasé to the major world-changing/world-ending things. He's been in more than one "end of human civilization" scenarios. It's not his first rodeo, and he's not even counting the doomsday panic of 2000 and 2012. He's immune to crazy, otherworldly shit via alien technology. If anything, he's weirdly disappointed over the lack of alienness of their Artifacts.

He literally resurrected his version of Optimus, met the Dynasty of Primes, had the Allspark in his mind, and dealt with the Fallen that manipulated gravity fields.

Sam's treating it like an unwanted vacation to a place that lied upon the brochure. That guy is like a powerful magnet for destroying Decepticon plans. He would probably fall into a chasm of a hidden Energon mine or interrupt an Artifact expedition to his advantage because 1) Allspark guided him, or 2) he was getting to antsy in the base of nothingness (no human personnel, no cafeteria, no agents, no systems or tasks for him) and did a runner.

He definitely puts his foot in his mouth when he meets Arcee. Sam would never get used to their more human-like frames.

Sam's boogeyman would be M.E.C.H.

Meanwhile, the Jasper Trio is stuck on Diego Garcia. They're taken back by the immense operation that's N.E.S.T. and feeling really lost. Miko doesn't have a Bulkhead-equivalent, Jack doesn't know what to make of the triplets, and Raf isn't clicking this Bumblebee.

Because everyone is too busy, they're trying to slot into things without getting too underfoot. Jack already has certifications related to his fast food job, so he gets into the mess hall to prepare meals for hundreds. Raf and Miko get into the science portions. Raf is making a name for himself as he has the most success bridging tech and understanding the Cybertronian script. Miko likes explosions.

The kids are boggled by all the politicking that goes into it and the more intensely magical things with the Allspark.

Those three will never, ever not laugh at Dorito-Starscream.

(Both sides have the not-so-fun realization about the malfunction connected to Unicron in the middle of Earth. That's too farfetched for anyone, but the truth literally grabbed the respective Primes with giant elemantal fists to viciously shake them.)

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ikkosu · 3 months

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PROWL HEADCANNONS

a/n: prowl on 'how he'd fall for you' headcannons because I’m bored and I love this war criminal to bits. (human gn.reader btw) warnings : just me rambling about prowl. might make part two of this idk.

I feel like prowl wouldn’t be the type to seek out someone; the only reason he’ll fall in love with you ( or in his case, have an illogical, spur of the moment, chemical reaction) is because you’ve been working him long enough to understand how his mind works

you’re gonna have to be the calm type, smart enough to know he’s off his rockers — since you’re going to have to tolerate him, anyway

or dumb enoug you don’t know wtf’s going on half of the time and just,,,supports what he does — he keeps you around for that

either ways, you're only there because the high council needs someone to keep tabs on prowl. in case he gets bored and decides to scheme another conspiracy to overthrow the government

(an exaggerated bias, as he'd say)

dumb is like his emotional support golden retriever, and calm is also the same, except less rowdy and just stares into his soul when he fucks up. But he stares back though and you're not one to give up either (in the end he does)

(Trope dynamics of loud dumb x smart and internally seething calm x smart is what I’m thinking lol)

calm would be someone in the science field or in the medical field, sassy, knows a lot (because if you’re going to lose your shit, it’s likely you’re never going to win an argument against him so = logical sympathetic + done w/ his shit + I stick around bc I care )

and for dumb loud would be someone in his profession, like buddy buddy cop + someone that just tags along because, hey, you like pissing him off

‘in both cases, if he falls for you it’s either because (for internally seething calm) you’ve managed to sooth him down from another temper tantrum or understand how he feels, in a way.

[i]

it’s not his usual tantrum, he’s a lot more emotional today and you’re incredibly concerned. this is prowl of all people! what’s got him so worked up? he's the least logical when he thinks someone's about to betray him

you notice the whispers as you saunter along the halls, everyone passing their remarks about the earlier supposed argument between the autobot SIC and his commander

brother was going off on the walls of his office when you slip in, punching holes, flipping tables — lotsa tables — and datapads were strewn across the floor, stylus pens cluttering about. it’s a barren hell hole. more barren than clemency combined

all this you’re not so interested in, it’s a normal thing, a three to four stage process : you’ll listen as he rants. you’ll nod and slowly, not so subtly in his peripheral, coax him to sit on the couch as you fix up the place.

"His perception of justice is too idealistic!" He chuffs and you'd reply “Oh? Optimus is not taking your advice again? I thought he’s a lot more understanding…”

something like that

today, however,

The moment you slinked inside the room, swiftly locking the door, you're greeted with his back is turned, helm hunching over his taut shoulders

your gaze swivelled from the upturned tables to the mess around and it's only then you notice energon plinking down to the puddle on the floor then energon seeping from the crevices of his fist.

Your eyes find the similar smear on the wall, then to the glass shards of a fractured cup on the floor, glinting

he’s bleeding

your medical instincts take reign, voice soft with concern.

“prowl—“

“don’t touch me.” He reels away.

His vents are shuddering, a staticky sporadic bursts of chuffs. He’s not breathing well, much too fueled by his own anger, his optics dart around the place, unable to focus, jittery and restless.

he paces around the room, servos unable to still

you know that hopeless feeling. The desire to do something , anything, but rooted at the inability to do so purges all instincts

you inch closer, palms up placatingly, treading on a light rake of glass. “It’s alright. Breathe. think about your three senses—"

“I said don’t touch me.’’ his voice is louder, more defensive, the kind you see a lot given you're his partner and the fact not all his propositions weren't taken so well. you can guess that's what happened today, or an altercation he's taken a lot too personally.

"I won't. I just want to see your wound."

"Its nothing. I said leave." his door wings flare up, a prey cornered with no where to go, lashing out as its last primal instinct to survive

pity spools into your chest

"it's alright, prowl. It's just me." you're halfway close and he backs up against the wall. "Let's talk like we always do, hm? Talk to let out some steam. Talk about what happened this morning or we can talk about something else."

"you don't understand." his voice wavers off a little, still having that tinge of sharpness yet it's loosing it's edge. his optics fail to meet yours. It's lodged to your feet. somewhere there. he's never been this vulnerable

"I won't have to understand." You say, and your hand curls experimentally over his own, testing to see if he'd lash out

When he didn't you intertwine you hands with his, easing down the stress of his knuckles. "You don't have to tell me anything. Just let me see your hands. I'll leave after once I fix everything up."

A moment — a beat; he relents.

Or more accurately, he's reeled silent as you tow him to the couch, clutching an ivory medical kit in the other hand.

With his servos on your knee, you work delicately, picking the fractured shards from the crevices of his digits that were lodged deep into the cords

His expression doesn't betray much pain plaguing his face with the usual pinched, dour look as he gazes outside the window. Though, he tenses up when you'd come across a deeper wound

then something hard on your shoulder startled you. You blink when you feel the crook of his nose nestle your shoulder blades. he's never been this affectionate and while you prefer to assault him with all kinds of question, you chose not to

It's like handling a startled cat; you're afraid of overwhelming him in case he'd draw back again. So you follow along, leaning a bit back so he's neck is comfortable with the bend.

The white bandages were purged a purple mauve when you roll the fabric around his digits, tying the loose ends with a dainty little bow.

You fix up the kit, his head still on your shoulder and you were about to leave when something grasps your sleeves. It's a tight clutch, digits curling around the fabric.

Prowl's now staring at the ground, any emotion on his face is imperceptible. Later punctuated by a remark, soft yet demanding, he uttered :

"stay."

#prowl x reader #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers idw #idw prowl #prowl #prowl idw x reader #idw prowl x reader #mtmte prowl

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ultra-phthalo · 28 days

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Enclosure Encounter

[Transformers Reversed First Contact AU. Your encounter with an unspecified bot held in an enclosure] Word count: 725 ------------------------------------------------------------- To not be heard. Imagine talking to someone and they don’t know that you were talking to them. Do you ever remember being distressed? Something had happened, your stress evident in the most readable wide eyes you have ever seen. Your movement hasty and you raise your voice to beg the person in front of you to do something. But the release of acknowledgement never came. Devoid of any reaction to your voice. Your distress was invisible to the person next to you. You were the unreadable one…

Looking at the light of the enclosure reflecting off the red railing in front of you. You watch your fist’s grip tighten around the railing from the memory. The metal to skin contact made an odd creaking noise that peaked above the catting crowd. The hums of accidental bumps and kids impatiently slapping the railing buzzing through your hands. The sight of the bot’s far off gaze and spent form returned that unpleasant memory. Clearly your mind is still hung up on something.

The early morning visit to this natural history museum exhibit was meant to be a last minute decision. But you had no clue that you'd got the luck of turning up here during feeding time.

A grinding noise was heard as the bot finally noticed its tray of mini pink energon cubes. It sat beside the tray. The whole set up having the energy of a regular person sitting at a cafe. Eating from a raised blocky table and sat on a cube for chair. The bot avoiding eye contact from all angles.

The bot began to slow its chewing. And looked in your general direction. “It’s going to freak out.” Murmured one voice. “Do you think it’s going to snap at us?” Another. There was excitement when the chewing stopped entirely. Energon crumbs on its face. The sight causing you to reach for your phone. *Click*

You glance at your phone screen before returning it to your bag. The bot’s optics dead centre with the lens of your camera. You felt the buzz of the crowd skip.

The lone bot that had its back against the corner of the enclosure got up and was walking towards your direction. “Is the glass capable to hold a bot like that back?” The thought whipped by. “There must be something more interesting to it behind me. It couldn’t have been because of me-.”

The bot sat down beside the glass. Closer than ever before. You stuck to your spot. As others stepped back. The bot had its tray of energon with it. And proceeded to break a pink chunk off and leave the share in front of you. “He’s sharing his food with me?”

Looking over the pink shimmer of the crumb of energon through the glass. And looking back up to the face of a bot taking their time calmly snacking next to you. You can’t help but let a smile slip. Before impulsively putting a hand over your mouth from the shock. Optics — giving you a wide eyed response. Puffing a sharp exhale. You grab something from your bag. Pulling out a chocolate bar, you break a row and place it on the small ledge outside of the enclosure glass. Then breaking a second row for yourself. The bot’s language as it leaned closer telling you it was intensely interested in what you were doing. With it flashing a smile back as it saw your acceptance of the gift and the gesture of giving something back in your own strange way.

They managed to find a way to socialise with one another. But with both sides finishing their last portions. You felt another tug as the bot relaxed leaning to the side you stood. With its regular glancing making sure you were still there next to him. You had to go now. Turning your back to the bot. The light of your familiarity guided his eyes through the crowd. And you left.

The two gifts, unable to be taken by either side of today’s wonderful exchange. Stayed together long after you and the bot lost sight of one another. As you gave that last, shy and real goodbye wave to the bot. Your hand seen above all else. Followed by a foolish sensation, causing you to dive into the hallway of the next room.

#reversed first contact AU #transformers #reversed au #first contact #y/n #creative writing #writing #fan fiction #fan fic #cybertronians #x reader #silly #how foolish are you on a scale of 1 to 10?#lol #human x alien #sfw #macadams #language barrier

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zeonomicon · 8 months

Note

I gotta ask: I've been craving G1 Soundeave having his buttons played with, either SFW or NSFW, I just *shakes fist* I need them to be pressed. Soundwave my beloved <333

Wonderful ask, I see you are a fellow person of culture. Shout out to Soundwave, gotta be one of my favourite stim toys.

Since the pairing wasn't specified, I went with a Cybertronian reader.

Answer under the cut, mostly SFW but suggestive.

G1 Soundwave x Cybertronian!Reader

It was nice to have moments like this with just the two of you, when Soundwave had a chance to take a break from his multifarious duties keeping the ship running and neither of you were being roped into the latest of Megatron's grand plans to take down the Autobots once and for all. You were reclined on the berth with the TIC in your lap, playing some pre-war song he'd kept in his databanks while you caught up on a holonovel you'd become engrossed in. You hadn't been paying much attention to the lyrics, captivated by the story unfolding in your datapad, but as a few lines caught your attention you decided to play it back to hear the last verse again. You snaked your arm around Soundwave's waist, feeling for the raised surfaces of his buttons, and Soundwave stiffened a bit; you supposed in surprise. You pressed his stop button, then your digits found the narrow-angled edge of his rewind button and you held it down for a few seconds before pressing play. Each button lit up energon magenta when you pressed it. Soundwave's buttons were quite satisfying to press, offering a little resistance and making a pleasing click once activated.

Soundwave's servo had gripped your knee while you fiddled with his buttons, but now he laid himself against you with his backstrut to your chassis and his helm on your shoulder, leaving not much room for you to pick up your datapad and read again. You didn't mind, content to enjoy your lover's music for a little while. You moved your servo, intending to set your datapad aside, but he placed his own servo over it quickly. Curious. Experimentally, you stroked his play button with one digit, feeling the texture of the raised symbol, and then slowly applied pressure, holding it just before its active position. Soundwave's cooling fans clicked on.

Emboldened, you held down the rewind and fast forward buttons at the same time, causing the music to stutter and skip before smoothing back out as Soundwave corrected the contradicting inputs internally. He pushed up into your touch keenly. You pressed all of his buttons at once, then alternated quickly switching between each of them in random order, deriving equal gratification from the sheer fun of playing with him as from the way Soundwave arched and shifted in your hold, vents growing shallow.

You pressed the record button and moved in close to him, winding your arms about his chassis and running your digits up the smooth glass. Soundwave let out a whine filled with static when your digits left his buttons, but then you found the eject button on his shoulder and his visor brightened in anticipation. You splayed your servo over his chest compartment and pushed, the spring mechanism attempting to propel the tape deck open only to be met with resistance. He pressed himself even more firmly back against you to give it room to open, but you pushed it shut with a click, holding the button down. Soundwave's visor flickered. "Release it."

"Or what?" You massaged his compartment, pushing hard with your thumb just above his lower hinge to keep it closed, your digits stretching to mess with the buttons on his abdomen again, playing back Soundwave's melodious sighs and the hum of cooling fans.

"Or Soundwave: Will press your buttons."

#Zeo Writes #Requests #Anon Ask #One Shot #Soundwave x Reader #Cybertronian Reader #Reader Insert #Suggestive #Kibbleplay #Ish #Soundwave #Transformers G1 #G1 Soundwave #Transformers #Don't worry Soundwave is using a special Cybertronian tape that doesn't erase when you record over it #I actually have a whole plethora of headcanons for how Soundwave's buttons work

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lets-try-some-writing · 4 months

Text

A World Where Things Went Right: Snippet #1

Enjoy suckers. This is going to be the angstiest of angst once I get it finished. Just you all wait. I warned you I had shipping pain in store.

The snippet isn't that long, but well... the fic will likely be WAY longer at the rate I am writing.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

“So this is it.” There was no question in his tone as Ratchet stared at the space bridge as it powered on. Their ship had long since been left to float through the dead of space, all remaining power having been diverted to this last leap, this final chance to make a difference.

“Yes.” Optimus answered simply, his voice weak from long vorns of exhaustion and malnutrition. He did not smile as he sat in his chair connected to a thousand and one wires. The Matrix glowed faintly in his exposed spark chamber, seemingly at peace with the connectors that were hooked into it. This was the end, and even the relic knew it.

“I won’t be able to come back, will I?” No response greeted his question as Ratchet stared out into the void outside their ship. They were the last, at least to their knowledge. Even if others had survived, the Unmaker’s reign was in full swing. He would get them all eventually, or failing that, the lack of energon would kill off whatever remained of their species soon enough.

The stabbing pain in his tanks reminded Ratchet of just how much time he had left. Ratchet had been given what little remained of their stores so that he would be able to endure the journey. Optimus did not look nearly as healthy, not that Ratchet was healthy by any definition of the word either.

“When this is done, the Matrix will have no more power to give. This place, our universe… it will be no more.” Optimus’s weakened voice echoed in the ship and Ratchet found his servos clenched into fists. He had long ago accepted the deaths of the remainder of their kind. Vorns upon vorns of watching those he loved be picked off tended to have that effect. Still, the idea of everything fading away… it ached.

He wanted to die beside his Conjunx, not abandon him to the coming darkness.

“Why can’t it be you?” Ratchet knew the answer to his question even as he uttered it into the relative silence of their shuttle. Optimus needed to power the space bridge. Relics were the only objects known to be able to tear through the seams of reality. The Matrix was the only relic that remained. It was the only possible tool that could be used, and since it was bound to Optimus, he needed to stay behind. Sending him through with the Matrix serving as a power source at the same time was asking for a catastrophic explosion that would kill them both.

Although, if Ratchet were honest, he wouldn’t mind that outcome at this point.

“You know that this is the only viable option. Not only are you the only mech capable of stepping through that portal, your presence was always one which did not warrant much suspicion.” Ratchet looked over to his Conjunx, his optics cycling in tiredly on the emaciated mech before him. Optimus no longer had the luster of a mech of his station. His limbs were thin from disuse and his armor had largely grayed. His face was gaunt and his spark flared weakly in his chassis behind the Matrix.

He didn’t have long left either.

“I know that… I just wish we could have greeted the end together.” Ratchet’s servos shook and he felt coolant gather in his optics as he stepped forward to the one mech in the universe who gave his life meaning. Optimus smiled sadly and drew Ratchet in for a gentle embrace. It was cold, neither of them healthy enough to produce more than the barest heat signatures. The wires that connected to the Matrix slithered along the exposed seams of Ratchet’s form, but he paid them no mind as he rested his face in the crook of his Conjunx’s neck.

“I would have given anything to stay with you my love, but now… this has grown beyond us. We must perform our final function.” Optimus’s words echoed in Ratchet’s mind, and all he could do was cry.

“I don’t want to leave you here alone.” His vents hitched as Ratchet clung to Optimus’s frail form. His dear Conjunx merely rubbed small circles onto his back while humming a soft tune. He could hear the space bridge power on behind him and sense his bond to his Prime growing weaker along with it. This was it. This was their final farewell. Ratchet had been preparing for this moment for vorns as they worked on the calculations needed to make this grand effort successful, but it still felt like his spark was being torn asunder.

Ratchet was not the first to go through the portal. Others had gone, and all had vanished without a trace. Bumblebee and Smokescreen were by far the most notable losses. Without a way to confirm if they had survived, only a few attempts to send mecha through the portal had been made. There was no way to be certain it even did anything. For all Ratchet knew, he would be vaporized the moment he stepped into the portal. Despite that, it was a chance for one of them to make it out alive, and he wanted to hope if only for Optimus’s sake.

He wanted to believe that their desperate struggle to preserve something of their dead universe would have meaning. Two of their sons had been lost to the cause. For them, he begged their deceased god with all his spark, praying that this would work.

“It is time.” Optimus’s voice was a mere whisper as Ratchet finally pulled away. A small holodisk sat heavy in his servo as Optimus passed it to him. Ratchet couldn’t bear to look at it as he put it into his carrying compartment. They had an agreement, one that Ratchet did not understand but would adhere to anyway.

The disk was Optimus’s final message, and Ratchet was only to play it when ‘Megatron' became relevant’. He didn’t know what that entailed, but as their universe crumbled, Optimus saw things that others did not. Visions, echoes of a different time and place. It was not Ratchet’s place to doubt him now.

He burned the image of his dying Conjunx’s gentle smile into his memory as he steeled himself and stepped in front of the swirling space bridge. His spark cried out as he sensed Optimus growing weaker, but he merely grit his denta and spared one final glance at the light of his life.

He couldn’t hear the words, but as the light began to fade from Optimus’s optics, Ratchet could have sworn the glyphs echoed in his very spark.

“I love you.”

It took all his strength to step into the portal and leave the plane of existence he knew and the mech he loved behind.

━━━━━━

Colors assaulted his vision in every conceivable hue. Sounds he could never describe in a million vorns collided with his audials. There was no up or down, there was no sense of stability amidst the vortex. Despite that, Ratchet kept walking on ground that he could neither feel or see. He pushed onward, using what little strength remained in his weak frame to break into a sprint as he sensed his tie to his Conjunx finally snap. He couldn’t tell if he screamed, sobbed, or cursed as he pushed on, but it didn’t matter much within the seams of reality.

Agony burned in his spark, emotions battled in his processors, and exhaustion weighed heavy in every part of his frame. Combined with the endless colors and sounds around him, it was all too overwhelming to consider. He had never felt so alone as he had in that seemingly endless moment walking between the gaps in the universe. Memories filtered across his vision in strange hallucinations and shapes as he dragged himself through the sea of light. Some were pleasant and depicted the good times he had with Optimus and later the soft moments they shared together raising Bumblebee. Others were… less joyful.

Burning cities, plague, bodies piled high, the exodus, the slow death of their species, the Unmaker’s awakening, the deaths of all those he held dear, and of course, that last spark crushing moment he shared with his Prime. The many long vorns of strife, the slow loss of hope… as much as it hurt, it pushed him on through the barrage of sensation and the simultaneous lack of it.

Finally, after what could have been mere nanokliks or a whole eternity, Ratchet emerged from the space between realities. Something shifted in him as he did so, and a harsh pain assaulted his very being. His consciousness sharpened, and he sensed another mind pressing up against his. He knew this hypothetical, and while not trained in how to handle it, Ratchet pushed on. His mind pressed against the other and he was quick to assert his dominance through memory and emotion. His spark screamed at the loss of his Conjunx and the memories of all he’d had taken from him. Conviction he needed to fulfill his final function propelled him until at last, the other far less tempered mind shattered.

He returned to himself suddenly as he stood up. A universe could not handle more than one version of the same individual. Only one could exist at a time, at least according to Perceptor’s calculations. Looking around him, he could see that he was inside of his old hab before the war. It was a distant memory, one that he hardly recalled after so long. And yet, it was familiar to see his certification hung on the wall and his usual additives on the counter.

The scene was broken only by the unfortunate reality of his actions and the consequences thereof. At his pedes was the barely venting form of his counterpart, the mech in question looking up at him in fear. Ratchet knelt down and placed a servo on his counterpart’s helm and hummed a gentle tune as he did with all his dying patients. His counterpart eased a degree at the song. They both knew the melody and what it meant. Both had long accepted it.

Within a klik, the other Ratchet’s optics went dark and his frame faded away without any fanfare. There could only be one, and Ratchet had taken his younger and inexperienced counterpart’s place. Such was the cost of the knowledge he carried.

Guilt hung heavy in his spark, but it was smothered as Ratchet steeled himself. There would be time to think later, preferably when his work was done and he could afford to be catatonic from loss.

“Forgive me for taking your life from you. But I promise, I will make this worth it.” Ratchet sighed as he stood and watched the form of his counterpart vanish. There was much to do, and his counterpart was now little more than a memory. He would do something to honor him later. For the time being, he had more pressing issues.

“Primus, they won’t think I am the same mech if I go around looking like this.” He grimaced as he walked over to the nearest mirror. He looked every bit the wartorn survivor of Cybertron. His armor was in shambles and he looked like he hadn’t gotten a deep clean in millennia. Of course he hadn’t done any real maintenance on his frame since the Unmaker destroyed Primus’s core, but others didn’t know that. He just looked like a horror movie extra.

It wouldn’t do. A slight vanishing act may be in order if he wanted to have a reasonable excuse for his appearance.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #ratchet #optiratch #alternate universe #angst #major character death #dimension travel #fanfiction #fanfic snippet

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tf-animated-out-of-context · 5 months

Text

#transformers animated #tfa grimlock #tfa prowl #tfa lockdown #tfa starscream #clone 3370318 #clone 2716057 #tfa optimus prime #tfa ratchet #tfa megatron #tfa blitzwing #tfa lugnut #tfa bulkhead #screenshots #a fistful of energon

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mochimelt · 6 months

Text

Half-Built

Shockwave & Gn!Reader (could be romantic or platonic)(oneshot)

Your audials activated first. The whirr of your machinery and the low hum of the lab filled your senses, slowly dulled out as the rest of your body began to wake. Your digits twitched against the table, curling into a fist and flattening again, the cold seeping into your metal servos. A sense of familiarity washed over your spark.

“Test. Test.” A close voice spoke out, bits of static slipping into your audio sensors as they recalibrated. “One, two. Do you hear me?”

Your voicebox creaked to life. “Yes, sir.” Far too much static for your liking.

“Staticy and unstable.” A scribbling sound followed, pen on paper, instead of the typical digital clicks and clacks of typing. “Visuals?”

“Not on yet.” Smoother than before. You pushed down the tiny sense of pride that grew in your chassis.

A short ‘hm’ sounded from beside you. “Slow. … Continue.”

Anxious disappointment took over the tidbit of pride like a weed. Unwanted thoughts crawled through your processor, leaving as quickly as they came. Did you break? Had you done something wrong? Corrupted your own body? Was he disappointed with you? You hadn’t failed him, had you?

Your optics flickered online after far too long, the glow of your eyes filling your vision as the rest of the room came into focus. Your vision traced the metal paneling of the ceiling above you, the tubes and wires running into the wall beside you, the flickering light and shadow from the bulb just out of sight.

Oh. That light didn’t typically flicker that way.

“Optics are online, sir.”

“Good. Can you sit up?”

Your helm nodded and scraped lightly against the metal table. Cables pulled against the movement, resting uncomfortably behind your helm. Your arms braced against the table as your servos pushed against it, body slowly raising, optics flicking across the space as you did. The room was in disarray. Wires pulled from their sockets, sparks of electricity from broken tubing, cracks spread across the tile floor. The computer display was missing, the comforting blue glow absent for the very first time.

“Sir, may I ask a question?” You spoke softly, your vision finally focusing on the mech before you.

He had a purple frame, his servo resting on the table beside you, his other arm limp by his side. His digits tapped rhythmically against the clipboard resting on the table. Paper clipped tightly in place, a pen set just beside it, neat handwriting filling half the page. A singular, yellow optic watched you as you moved. Two gray ‘audials’ (though you hesitated to call them that, unsure if those were his audials or not,) sat on each side of his helm. Like little antennae, they flicked up at the sight of your movement. His helm nodded slowly to your request.

“Why is the lab in such disorganization?”

He turned to the rest of the room, looking over the broken wiring and cracked floor, and turned back to face you. “There was a disturbance that resulted in damage to the local area. Power has been cut and is being fixed at the moment.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Sympathies are useless.” His hand picked up the pen once more, holding it just above the paper. “Remain focused on the task at hand. Status?”

“Right.” Your digits held to the edge of the table you sat on. “Status update; all systems online. Audials green. Optics green. Touch green. Vents green.”

Your body moved to demonstrate each system as you read them off. Your optics flickered on and off, your servo tapped against the table, your chassis venting out the slowly heating air within. Energon flowed freely through your body, your spark thrumming rhythmically within your chassis, safety tucked away from open air. You’d need to refill soon. Shockwave responded to each check with a sharp nod and a scribble on the page.

“Left arm online. Right arm online. Servos online.” You flexed each arm and digit before letting them fall limp once more. “Left leg offline. Right leg offline.”

Two stumps sat at the bottom of your torso, where your legs would someday connect. This was expected. Shockwave wasn’t finished building your legs yet, and there was no point in connecting them when they still didn’t work. Not that you minded. His work was difficult, and you would wait as long as he needed to finish building you. You had him to thank for your life, after all.

“Damage report?” His voice rung out, snapping you out of your thoughts. His optic watched you curiously, head tilted only a couple degrees to the side, one digit tapping against the side of the pen he held.

You twisted your helm, one hand pushing into the wiring of your neck. You could barely see the metal of your open back, your internal wiring visible and unfinished, temporarily patched together until Shockwave could find the pieces for your wings. Small wires pulled from your back into the machinery beside you. “No damage to helm. No damage to chassis.”

He hummed. You twisted each arm and bent each digit, stretching and tensing, then let your arms fall. Wires tugged and loosened from each limb as they moved. “No damage to arms or servos.”

“Very good.” His scribbling came to a stop and he stood straight. His helm looked down at you just a bit, optic unchanging as he observed you, as always.

You weren’t sure if his optic was unsettling or comforting. Shockwave was the only mech you knew, and something within your spark cried of fear at the sight of his single optic, his mangled arm turned into a weapon, the cold tone in his voice and the uncaring words he spoke. At the same time, you couldn’t help but feel a warm comfort at the sight of him. More than once you were left in the lab alone, unable to rest and shut down, staring up at the empty ceiling. It wasn’t often, but on these occasions he would stay in the room with you. Off to the side doing his own work. He would tell you about things he encountered that day, other mechs he ran into and possibly ran over, and theories he had regarding you and your form. He would ramble about the modifications and adjustments you needed, the pieces he planned to give you to complete your body. You were his perfect experiment, he said. A mech to traverse all areas. Land, air, and sea of any kind, you would travel them all.

Your form was all thanks to him. All the metal of your body had been repurposed from dead bots, melded and shaped to fit you. A menagerie of colors lay on your plating, cracked and peeling at the ends, not that you cared. Once you were finished you would worry about getting a fresh coat of paint. Maybe you’d go with purple, to match Shockwave. Would he like that?

There was a deep warmth in your spark. A feeling of comfort and familiarity, of care and admiration. Your spark. You didn’t know if he had taken your spark from another mech, or if he had somehow created one of his own, or taken a piece of the Allspark. At the same time, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. There were no memories within this spark. Nothing to connect you to anyone or anything, nothing to taint your memories. A blank slate in the purest sense.

“May I ask a question sir?”

Shockwave stared down at you for a moment before nodding, waving his servo toward you.

“Why wake me up?” A cable pulled at the back of your helm as you leaned forward, twisting to look behind you, at the group of wires and cables that connected to your helm and back. Sparks of electricity emanated from tiny cracks in the wiring insulation, bits of tape wrapping together the more broken pieces. “Am I not a waste of limited power? You could have waited until the power had returned to wake me.”

He watched you as you spoke. His helm sat still, his optic revealing no emotion beneath, none of his thoughts or feelings. But the way he tilted his head just a bit, the way his digits tapped against your frame as he watched you, subtly checking for any external damage, it revealed more than he knew.

“I wanted to check on you. Ensure no damage was done to you during the power outage.” His voice was smooth and monotone as ever, his digits tracing the scrapes on your arm. “Yes, you use some of my limited power, but it was optimal to do so. Tracking your state and fixing any errors is of most importance at the moment. Trying to fix any problems when they have settled and corrupted would be far too troublesome a task.”

You couldn’t help the twinge of satisfaction that came to mind when he spoke. He cared about you, your safety and your status, enough to use his limited power to boot you up and check on your state. His touch drifted away from your arm, leaving behind the insignificant scrapes and peeling paint, and you leaned in to try and keep him there.

“Now, allow me to fix the errors within you.” His servo found purchase on your chassis, a gentle push moving you to lay back down.

“I have problems?”

“Yes. Your slow activation shows you cannot run optimally on low amounts of energon. I will fix this error and optimize your frame to run smoothly on limited quantities of energon.”

“Right.” You didn’t resist as he pushed you back on the metal table, shuffling slightly to get yourself as comfortable as possible for the process to come. It was a familiar routine. “You’ll be careful, right?”

“Of course.” His helm nodded above you, servo fiddling with the machine hooked up to your form. “Disabling pain sensors.”

#shockwave x reader #transformers x reader #reader insert #melting words

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starliights-shining · 1 year

Note

Hello there! I would like you to make a NSFW one shot of polyamory Breakdown x Knock Out x shy Decepticon Reader. The situation would be about the reader getting all hot and flustered by Breakdown eating their valve and Knock Out touching their spike. Probably some praise kink ofc to make the reader more flustered JAJAJAJA. That’s it, take your time and add something else spicy if you like juju💋

Hello! I got it, I will admit this is my first time writing something like this for smutt. Thought I'd try my hand at something different today. This one is so short simply because i think the prompt is already so good and fulfilling. Enjoy :)

Pairings: Knockout x Reader x Breakdown

Warnings: NSFW, no (Y/N)

You don’t really know how you got in this situation, Breakdown between your legs and Knockout with a servo wrapped around your spike. All you knew was that you couldn't think straight, and you weren’t going to last long. Your optics opened for split seconds, just to see the grin on Knockout’s face plating and then the sight of Breakdown past your spike. It sent a shiver through your binary system. A little shake came from you, catching the optics of Knockout.

“I don’t think our friend will last any longer like this, Breakdown.”

Knockout's servo pumped your spike faster after he finished his sentence. Your moans rising in pitch each time his servo reached the base of your spike. You couldn’t keep your optics open, but when you could keep them open the light over head was blinding. It felt like you were going to see Primus himself from your pleasure. He would not be pleased with you, falling into the hands of the Decepitcons and then allowing them to split you evenly. Their servos roaming your frame, and allowing them to your most sensitive points, you’d be scolded.

The sound of Knockout calling your name brought you back. Your optics moving from the blinding bulb to his helm, you couldn’t make out the edges and harsh lines you normally can, the only thing you saw was the red circles of his optics. He said something, you were about to answer when you felt two digits push past your valve entrance. A high pitched moan was let out, your optics closing. Your instinct to move your servos down to grab Breakdowns helm was short lived. The sound of the chains that tied your servos above your helm clanked.

“Ah, ah, ah, seems like someone forgot the rules! Good thing we had these on already, would be a shame we had to stop, right breakdown.”

Knockout mocked you, his free servo came up to tug on your chains. You had completely forgotten about them, he was right. It seems like all those times he remembers your need and obsession to touch whoever was down there.

Knockouts mocking seemed to entertain Breakdown, causing the larger mech to chuckle, sending the vibrations straight into your valve. The string of moans you let out was pornographic, the vibrations were perfect, so perfect that you didn’t learn your lesson from the first time, you went to wrap your legs around him, but the chains stopped you once again. These ones allow you to have some movement though, but not enough for what you were looking for.

Breakdown pulled away from your valve, optics looking at your chained up leg for sharply moving towards. He retracted everything from you, leaning back in his positions to just admire the way you unraveled under Knockout's grip. His own servos started trailing down to fist his own spike, optics flickering between your contorted face and your sticky spike.

Knockout stayed next to you, giving your spike less and less attention. He stopped the little things he did, all until his touch was ghostly. Servo still wrapped around but hovering over it, you whined. You could feel the energon in your frame cooling down, the one thing you didn’t want. You’d been so close for a majority of the night, the only thing stopping you was the death glares you’d get from both the mechs. You’d do anything to feel like a sweet high, anything. Maybe that's why they didn’t let you finish, you hadn’t expressed your need too. That's when you felt it, the feeling of Knockout's servo retreat from your spike, his presence next to you gone within seconds. You whined, letting out any high pitched noises you could. You attempted to move your servos down to relieve yourself, since they weren’t going too, but those same chains from before were still there. You bucked your hips up, you pushed your thighs together, you wiggled like a worm, you did every and anything but talk to them. Your optics looked past your spike, the mechs stood there watching you, Breakdown staring at you while pumping his own spike and knockout stood with a smirk, watching you squirm. You opened your mouth, attempting to speak to them, but all that came out was a breathy moan.

“Come on, use your words now.”

Breakdown's voice was deep, your optics stayed on him. Traveling down to watch him, simply wishing that was you, that was your spike with his or knockouts servo wrapped around it. You took a chance to speak again, half lidded optics flickering between the two.

“Please,”

You paused, looking back up towards the ceiling in embarrassment.

“Please,”

You couldn't get past your first ‘please’, your processor not allowing you to beg any further than that singular word.

“Come one, Sweetspark. You’re a big Con now.”

Knockout was once again mocking you, the embarrassment filling seeping into you.

“Stop mocking them now, I think they might like it.”

Breakdown seemed to know you too well, you may have been embarrassed, but it was simply enhancing your experience, while also stopping you from getting what you want.

“Please, I wanna finish.”

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that! Can you repeat it again?”

Your optics flickered towards Knockout, he was pushing it, pushing it quite a bit. You will repeat it, after you think about it for far too long.

“Please, Come fuck me. Please,, please,”

Your pleas trailed off into a quiet whisper. A whisper you knew they wouldn’t like, but you were just trying to ground yourself and focus on not losing your build up.

“I suppose we can finish you off. After all, we can't say no to you.”

They both came back over to you, Breakdown back between your legs and knockout’s servos wrapped tightly around your spike, and primus you could have come right then and there. Breakdowns glossa and digits playing with your valve, while Knockout keeps a steady and tight grip on your spike. You were back to sounding like a porn star, high pitched strings of moans coming from your mouth. They were building that high right back up.

You were ready to boil over, the edge of it right there, just in reach. Knockout could hear the desperation in your moans. He tumbed the tip of your spike, putting the right amount of pressure.

“Please, Please, Let me come. Please, please, please”

You don’t really know how you were able to get all that out, but you did. Your mouth moves faster than your processor, but Knockout was cruel.

“Go on, Let go.”

You did, letting your orgasm rip through you like nothing before. Your frame started to shake from the overstimulation of Breakdown still eating you out, and Knockout still pumping you. His servo going down and coming up with a tighter and tighter grip, he was truly milking you dry. Breakdown pulled his glossa from you, leaving his digits still in your valve. Both the mechs movements came to a slow and then to a stop. You let out your last few moans before relaxing, letting the chains hold the weight of your arms. Knockout let go of your spike, scooping up some of your fluids on his digits before bringing it to your mouth. He made an ‘ah’ noise towards you, you opened your mouth and he put his covered digits in your mouth and down on your glossa. You licked his digits clean, but he still didn’t take them out. Breakdown took his digits out of your valve, causing you to moan around Knockout's digits. He just smirked down at you.

“Well done.”

Breakdown snapped you out of your trance with Knockout’s digits, you pulled back to say something but was cut off.

“You should rest, there will be no round two,”

Knockout paused, red optics looking down at you.

“At least not right now.”

#stars writings #transformers #transformers x reader #tf x reader #transformers prime #tfp x reader #tfp knockout #tfp breakdown #knockout x reader #tf knockout #knockout #tfp #transformers prime x reader #breakdown #tf breakdown #breakdown x reader #breakdown x knockout #i feel like im missing tags #oh well

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rowiewritesstuff · 1 year

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YAN ES SOUNDWAVE!!

TFP Yandere Soundwave X Reader

Lol for the flip off part I imagined the breaking bad scene. I have to make my sibling draw this sometime lmfao

Soundwave saw you first when you were in Texas at the satellite array. You had quickly noticed the camera that moved to look at you all, and you jumped up and smashed it with a crowbar.

Soundwave’s tentacle slithered into the room, and you were ready. Your crowbar slammed into his tentacle, drawing energon. He recoiled, and slammed all of you into a wall. He dragged you out to get a better look at you. The kids all followed behind you quickly. Your arms were pinned to your sides and you struggled in his grip.

A second later, you’re face to face with a black visor. It’s pure silence as you stare at him with a glare on your face. “What, don’t talk?” Soundwave merely tilted his head at you. You dropped your scowl slightly. “Oh. You don’t- my bad dude. But still, fuck you man! Put me down”

Soundwave found you amusing- he actually had to stop himself from reacting. He dropped you from his face level to see what you’d do.

You quickly grabbed onto him and climbed down his sleek form, using the grooves to avoid falling. As soon as you were on the ground, he used the crowbar he stole from you to cut the lines to the array.

Miko quickly snapped a picture, and he nodded as he took one as well. Two to be exact- one of you.

As he jumped into the air he found it amusing as you flipped him off, a serious look on your face.

When you got back to base, you were commended for your bravery. “Nah bro when I see him it’s round two!” you shouted, punching your fists together.

Ratchet sighed, hoping that he wouldn’t have to patch you up in the near future.

The next time you saw Soundwave was when he was stealing the energon harvester. You were on the lift, holding the artifact still. When he opened the door, he reached for the harvester.

“Uh-uh! This thing isn’t leaving me, buddy!” You quickly got out the knife you’d been saving for this occasion. A smiley face appeared on his visor as he snatched both you and the artifact up. He had to electrocute you to stop you from stabbing him again.

When you woke up, you were laying on a metal table. You rubbed your sore back as you moseyed your way down the table’s leg. The door then slid open, and your worst Decepticon enemy came through. You quickly ducked under the table. You then realized that you had to be on the Decepticons’ ship. The door was beginning to slide shut so you ran for it. Before you could get even a foot out of the door, a familiar tentacle snatched you up.

“What’s your deal?” You yelled at him.

That ever-so-irritating smiley emoji popped up on his visor as he pet your head with a careful digit.

“Hey, knock it off! And let me go- the Autobots will come for me!” You swatted at his servo.

“No escape- you’re stuck- here- little human.” Voice clips pieced together.

You glared at him. “Why am I here?”

“Amusement.”

You gaped at him. How could he say that so calmly? You were silent as you were placed back on the table. Soundwave stood back in the corner of the room and watched you.

You were determined to not be ‘entertaining’ for him. So you plopped down on the table and flipped him off again.

You sat there for about thirty minutes, neither of you moving when your boredom overpowered your pettiness. You looked down the table again, then to the door, and back to Soundwave.

As quickly as you could, you darted down the table. Halfway there he caught you again and put you back onto the table, going back to his original place in the room.

Hours turned to days, and days to weeks, and weeks to months. He always watched you. You knew that even if you were to escape the room, he’d bring you back. He was watching anywhere there were cameras- on the Nemesis and Earth. You could never escape from him by yourself. You just had to bide your time until your Autobot friends came back- or until you could find a way to kill him in his sleep (which was hard- he was a light sleeper).

Until then, you’d be entertainment to the silent stalker. You just hoped he wouldn’t get bored with you- you had seen what he did to those he lost interest in.

EDIT: This was the silly meme I was talking about lol

#soundwave #tfp #transformers prime #tw yandere #transformers #yandere transformers #yandere tfp #Yandere Soundwave #Yandere TFP Soundwave #yandere transformers prime #yandere transformers prime soundwave #ratchet #miko #breaking bad #breaking bad reference

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callsign-relic · 6 months

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mechs who can’t fit their spikes into a human lightly trapping the human in a fist between their spike and their hand and rubbing their squirming form against it.

*SLAMS WHATEVER FRAGMENTS OF THE DESK ARE LEFT*

YES. AGAIN.

BODYJOB BODYJOB BODYJOB AAAAAAHHHG

I’ve thought of this scenario. SO MANY TIMES. While I’m here lemme also recommend one of my favorite fics by @robot-horde, A Little Faith, which is this exact scenario with TFA Megs. I’ve reread it so many times you have no idea AHAHAH

But yes. God. Imagine. The utterly massive bot’s warm hand pressed up against your backside, forcing you against his throbbing spike. You can feel the energon rush through it in needy pulses, feel his sparkbeat pick up in pace at the sight of you clinging to him like this. Slowly, he drags your tiny form up and down his length. Your vision blurs from the constant motion, but you can hear a heavy panting above you, coupled with a few low moans. He drags you along faster, more forcefully, and you can feel his shaft twitch and throb as transfluid builds and eventually pours itself atop you. He doesn’t care though, he keeps going, sticky as you are.

And UGGHHH OMG just thought of this too. Imagine he finishes and you’re absolutely coated in his transfluid, but rather remove you and clean you up, he leaves you there. The sticky substance starts to dry, and eventually, you’re stuck to his spike without him even needing to hold you there. You liked that spot so much, surely you wouldn’t mind staying there until he said so? At least, that’s what he assumes as he starts to close up his panel with you still inside.

#relic answers #valveplug

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cozzzynook · 21 days

Note

can you do mechpreg? with any pairing of your choosing 🙏

He just wanted to spend the day laying in berth and the worst part about it all was that he hadn’t even gotten out of berth yet.

Groaning, he shifted and curled into the pillow shutting his optics tight and clenching his jaw gnawing his denta together for a moment.

He felt his tanks roll with an audial twist and he suddenly felt hot all over rushing from the berth with painfully tingling uncoordinated steps with vision that faltered so badly he almost face planted into the wall.

He didn’t even make it to the wash racks.

He emptied his tanks in the waste bin for what felt like hours. He knows it wasn’t but the fact that his frame kept heating up and his knees felt weak as his stabilizers shook, he couldn’t help it.

His arms and stabilizers gave out and he dropped mid purge.

He almost choked when he felt two sets of arms wrap around him easing him back onto unstable pedes.

A cool callous servo rubbed his back struts while the other helped keep his helm from tipping over.

After a while he just stopped and started hacking full frame.

The worried em fields shrouding his own made his mood sour a bit more and he pushed his own em field in apology.

“What happened Roddy? You never purge.”

“Kid, Did you eat energon you didn’t like again? We keep tellin ya its okay to consume what you like and not just whats there.”

He managed to shake his helm in answer and he felt their concern grow when he gagged and purged again.

It took a few kliks but his tanks finally didn’t overreact at every little movement he made and he tried to stand on his own.

Drift and Ratchet didn’t let him go no matter how much he sluggishly tugged at his arms.

“In the berth kid, gotta check ya over.”

He didn’t have the strength to complain and that only seemed to make their worry infinite.

The thought of how much he complains to every bot he knows especially his mate made his emotions sour and the thought of his mates having to put up with his annoying behavior that was so expected of him, it left him sobbing silently by the time they laid him in the berth and he rolled over to his side.

His spoiler felt painfully sensitive and tender to the touch. So much so it made his valve clench and leak on nothing.

He curled up and covered his face plates with the pillow blocking Drift and Ratchet from seeing his pathetic state and felt more sobs release when they cuddled on both sides of him.

“I think I know whats wrong with ya kid. But I still wanna do just one scan if thats alright?”

After a moment of trying to situate himself, he nodded beneath the pillow feeling Drift kiss the back of his neck cables and brush against his spoiler making him flinch and moan. His servo fisted the sheets and he faintly heard Ratchet tell Drift everything was okay.

“How Ratty? He literally purged for almost an hour and his spoilers swollen and he’s crying?! Roddy never acts like this?”

“If I’m right, this scan’ll tell us exactly what I think it is and that’ll explain why he slept for a full day after only doing desk work the past few weeks.”

“Wait, didn’t Magnus or Megatron put him on desk duty?”

“Nope. Kid told them he’d do it because he was feeling exhausted.”

“Roddy…”

Ratchet rested a servo on Drifts cheek, “I’m fairly certain I know why he’s like this. If I’m right it’ll be good news,” Ratchet smiled.

It was one where it touched his optics and danced through his em field and Drift wouldn’t argue with that.

He couldn’t even if he wanted to.

So he let his helm fins relax the best he could and watched as ratchet scanned Rodimus’s spark and tanks before a diagnostic appeared clear as the small shift in Rodimus’s tank plating.

“Kid?”

“Hm?”

The two hadn’t even realized Rodimus was almost in deep recharge.

Ratchet just smiled a little softer and lifted the pillow, pressing his helmet to Rodimus’s and nuzzling him.

“Go back to sleep kid. You’re alright.”

A non coherent noise left their conjunx and his optics faded to black.

“Drift?”

“Roddy’s..Roddy’s sparked?”

“Mhm,” Ratchet helped Rodimus get more comfortable by taking the weight off his sensitive spoiler.

“Explains why he was so tired for the past few weeks and the sudden increase in appetite. Kid probably was telling the truth when he said he wanted the same energon as us.”

“No wonder he purged like that. Poor Roddy,” Drift shifted himself to keep from touching Roddy’s spoiler and laid a servo over the small bump on his tanks.

“He’s sparked,” Drift whispered, reality was starting to sink in and Ratchet felt Drifts em field begin to spread elation around their hab suite.

Drifts optics never left Rodimus’s tanks and his stabilizer leaned over to twine with Ratchets who smiled looking at the both of them.

“Hehe..you’re next Ratty.”

“Watch it. Or need I remind you how both of you like to sub for me?”

#dratchrod #drift #ratchet #rodimus #transformers #lost light #dratchet #roddratchet #ratchet x rodimus #drift x rodimus x ratchet #mechpreg #mech preg

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