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writeyouin · 5 months

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Hwello! How are you? Could I please request tfa Bumblebee, Optimus Prime, the jettwins(poly) and maybe shockwave ans Blurr too with a reader thats a bender.(The benders from Avatar and the legend of Korra)Maybe they're also the Avatar, if so then how would they react of they go into the Avatar state and started going rampage. They're angry because someone hurt their s/o or because someone is constantly insulting/bullying their s/o (coughsentinelcough).Thank you so much and your work is AMAZING!

Transformers X Reader-Insert - Avatar State

A/N - I hope you don't mind that I've done this as headcanons since there were a few characters to write this scenario for. And ooh, yey, I get to write for my fave TFA bot, Blurr.

Warnings - None

Rating - T

Bumblebee

It was always so cool that you could do what other humans couldn't. You could bend the elements to your will; it was awesome.

Throwing rocks at Bee for Target practice? He loved it.

Manipulating water to win in snowball fights? What a hoot.

Blasting grit at Sentinel then using Bumblebee as a getaway car? Incredible.

Or those rare quiet nights, when it was just you and him, and you would light up the sky, turning fire into moving images, perfect. He particularly loved it when he described something from Cybertron and you turned it into flaming pieces of art.

Bumblebee knew you. You were fun. You liked to play, but this... This wasn't playing anymore.

He had been in danger, and something in you changed. He'd seen you fight before, but this was something else. You- You weren't yourself as your eyes shone white and you roared with the voice of hundreds of past lives.

Bumblebee wanted to beat Megatron. Hell, the whole team did, but this was wrong. You were going to tear him apart, piece by piece.

"(Y/N)!" Bumblebee screamed your name. When you ignored his call, he became even more desperate. The truth now is that he doesn't care if Megatron is sent to the scrap heap. He just wants you back, and he's scared you're gone forever.

"(Y/N), HE'S DOWN. HE'S NOT GETTING BACK UP. IT'S OKAY. I'M OKAY. YOU- YOU ALREADY SAVED ME!"

Finally, thankfully, you lower yourself to the ground, and turn to look at him, almost not seeing behind the whites that have possessed your eyes. You mumble his name, tears spilling at the thought of almost losing him, and he rushes forward to catch you as you crumple to the floor.

Bumblebee calls for backup to imprison the unconscious Megatron, and he cradles you to his chassis, promising you that everything's going to be okay.

Jet-Twins

Oh, how exciting. There was a human just like the twins!

You were the only human who could command the elements, and they were the only Autobots who could fly (at least until command replicated the experiment, but that wouldn't be for quite some time.)

You could make lightning, they could make lightning.

You could hurl big rocks, they could hurl big rocks, or cars, or anything they picked up really.

You could race on a ball of air, they could jet through the air.

What wasn't to love?

Then, they learned there was even more fun to be discovered with the Avatar state. Though you knew you really shouldn't play with it, you couldn't help it as your loving boys begged you to play with them, racing one vs two, you in your heightened state, them using their advantage as a team to whip each other forward.

Everything was so amazing.

Then, there was a battle during which their lives were in danger, and they saw what the Avatar state could really do.

"Brother," Jetfire called, as he saw you put yourself at the forefront of the battle to save them.

"Da, I know," Jetstrom rallied to his brother's aid, immediately understanding what Jetfire wanted.

You weren't the only one with a superior alt-mode.

Together, they formed Safeguard. You wouldn't fight alone. They would also help protect you.

Optimus Prime

Optimus was always curious about your power. What a heavy burden that must be... much like leading a team.

Except, where there are many leaders in the universe, you are entirely alone in this power.

Becuase of this, Optimus liked to know everything about what you can do.

He has learned that there aren't only four elements, but also your affinity to the spirit realm, which (in a dire emergency) could lead you into the Avatar state.

During a particularly bad battle at Sumdac Industries, Optimus saw you enter the avatar state, yet with him by your side, you remained relatively in control, dealing with the enemies you faced succinctly, and also using your abilities to keep civilians out of harm's way.

Because of that incident, Optimus thought you would be in control at all times. He never imagined that you would lose your temper later with Sentinel of all people.

Sentinel had been his usual self, taking too much enjoyment in the power he had over others, and putting Optimus down because of their bad blood, none of which he would take responsibility for.

You were already in a bad mood upon seeing that. Then when Optimus objected to Sentinel's poor treatment of his team, Sentinel made a move to push Optimus down and place him in stasis cuffs.

After that, you lost it.

Optimus' optics widened in shock. You had gone into the Avatar state... for him. He knew the toll such power took, and he also knew that sometimes, that amount of power scared you. You rarely used it in combat, but now, your emotions had overcome you, and you had trapped Sentinel in a vortex.

You didn't respond to Optimus' calls. He had to crawl his way over to you, using his axe to pick his way up to you, like a mountain climber buffeted by impossible winds.

You jolted in shock at the feel of his servo on your shoulder. Then, upon looking over your shoulder at him, your eyes cleared, you lowered Sentinel to the floor, and Optimus abandoned his post to take you home.

Shockwave

A human who can manipulate the elements? How useful.

Well, if you can manipulate the elements, then it's only fair that Shockwave should manipulate you.

He goes through all the social graces of human courtship, and never once does he mention your abilities.

No, it's not about them, it's about you. He loves you, he would do anything for you.

It's only when he's certain that you are completely devoted to him that he begins his real experiments.

All it takes is a few pyrotechnics, a pipe which he could lift off himself at any time, and a feigned injury, then boom! You're in the Avatar state, just like he wanted.

Not only have you defeated a few enemies he lured into the area, but you've also performed wonderfully for his drones which are recording everything. If he can successfully replicate the data, a new generation of Decepticons will be forged.

And if he can't? No matter. You would do anything for him, and all for the promise of something as pathetic as love.

How easy it is to manipulate emotional fools led by their hearts.

Blurr

When Blurr first met you, it was only because he had plans to recruit you to the Autobot faction - the first human among Autobots; what an honour that would be for you.

Upon agreeing, you and Blurr began spending a lot of time together.

Blurr spoke a million miles a minute, asking you everything about your abilities. He was gathering intel.

Through various training sessions, he learned all your moves, with the exception of the Avatar State, which you declared too dangerous and only described, stating it wasn't something to be toyed with.

Blurr accepted that. He appreciated your professionalism and regard for safety.

Over time, Blurr became fond of you. He grew to care about your answers. It wasn't about intel anymore. He liked knowing about you. He wanted to be with you.

Your relationship was an unexpected one, and the two of you kept it secret from Autobot HQ. If they ever found out, Blurr would be posted elsewhere, and you would be given a new intel operator.

Much later, when it was too late to do anything, you heard word of Blurr's demise.

Through your despair, you were overtaken by the Avatar state. During your rampage, you rushed to the Decepticon base on Earth. There was nothing there to defeat since Megatron's capture, but that didn't stop you from tearing apart not only the base, but the entire island.

Nothing would ever grow there ever again.

When you came to your senses, there was no happiness. You had lost everything that mattered, and to make things worse, you despised the mindless destruction of an island that could have at the very least been reclaimed by nature if you hadn't been so destructive.

Without the comfort of your soulmate, you wept into the dead earth, feeling all too alone in the universe.

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silkling · 3 years

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Good day, @pastelpaperplanes. It’s me. Again. Here with another fic for your C&M Prowl. This time it’s the Jettwins edition! The fandom needs more jettwins content, so I made some. Fear not, this time it’s just silly fluff and sibling idiocy. Hope y’all like it! Fair warning, this is a long one.

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Jetstorm woke up to the smell of something cooking. That in and of itself wasn’t all too odd–Jazz enjoyed cooking, and it was fairly common for the three of them to eat breakfast together in the mornings when their respective jobs didn’t require an earlier start. However, Jazz also had a large sweet tooth, and so did his brother, which meant his breakfasts usually consisted of things like pancakes and waffles and other similar sweetened breakfasts. Jetstorm didn’t mind sweets. He loved a good dessert just as much as Jetfire did, but for his meals, he preferred savory food. Usually, this meant Jazz would have to cook a smaller portion of something like cyber-hen eggs or mecha-hog bacon for him. However, this morning was notable because the food Jetstorm smelled cooking wasn’t sweet. It also seemed milder, somehow, than the strong smell that usually filled the house when Jazz cooked.

Curious, the young bot shifted under the covers, scowling when he realized that Jetfire was once again tangled around him. They both had their own rooms, but the twins would often sleep curled up together if the mood struck. It was comforting to have the familiar weight at his back at night, but in the morning, when he wanted out of bed, it was irritating to have to fight his brother’s unconscious body for freedom. Finally, he succeeded....only to end up throwing himself halfway off the bed, face pressed to the floor and legs tangled in what little blanket Jetfire hadn’t stolen from him. Jetstorm just lay there in defeat for a long moment, then pushed himself up onto his hands and pulled his legs free. He slid fully to the floor, then slowly stood and crept out of his room while Jetfire slept on. As he closed the door, his brother sprawled into the warm spot he had previously occupied, even further rolling himself into the blanket as he did so.

Jetstorm sighed, rolled his eyes and crossing his arms, only to pause as he realized he’d left his visor on his nightstand. He tilted his head, considering for a moment before shrugging and going to follow to smell that had woken him. He stepped out of the hallway that led to the bedrooms, only to pause when he saw who exactly was at the kitchen counter. It wasn’t Jazz. No, it was actually their guest. Prowl stood there, mixing something in a pot over the stove, dressed in a loose sleeping robe that Jetstorm recognized as belonging to their guardian. Ah, that was right. He’d come over the day before to talk with Jazz, and they’d spent so long together that it had been dark by the time Jazz suggested Prowl might as well stay the night.

He still remembered the day they’d met the strange mech. After Prowl had thrown their frisbee that day in the park, and Jazz had seen him, their adoptive father had all but tackled the smaller bot on a hug so tight Jetstorm was still surprised he hadn’t broken anything. They’d stayed like that for a long time, Jazz just whispering things to Prowl is a tearful rasp that Jetfire and he hasn’t been able to hear. His brother had made to interrupt, but then he’d heard the hoarse “I finally found you” from the white mech and it had clicked. This was Prowl. The same Prowl Jazz had told them about (though he’d only ever been able to bring himself to tell the twins about his lost friend on a couple occasions, the topic obviously still painful to their guardian), the same Prowl that Jazz had spent the past several years trying to find. He’d pulled his brother back, hissed a hurried “Do not be interrupting, it be Jazz’s friend Prowl that he be telling us about” at the orange mechling, and his brother had stilled as the realization caught up. After that, they’d all eventually made it back to the house, where Jazz and Prowl had talked for the rest of the day while the twins played in the yard, and though the black and gold mech had left that night, he had also become a somewhat regular guest. Though, sometimes Jazz had to literally drag him here.

“You’re staring.”

Jetstorm startled at the smooth voice, stifling a yelp. He flushed when he realized he’d just been standing there, lost in thought. “I am sorry.” he said after a brief pause. “I was thinking you were Jazz.”

Prowl turned his head to look at the youngling over his shoulder, and Jetstorm was startled to see that the Praxian was without his own visor just as he himself was. “I take it Jazz cooks for you two in the morning?”

Jetstorm nodded, then sniffed at the air and padded over, peering curiously at the food the older mech was preparing. “What you be making?” he asked, curious. “Jazz and Jetfire like sweet breakfast, so we be having that often. But this does not be smelling sweet.”

Prowl paused, frowning. “I know Jazz has a sweet tooth.” he said after a moment. “But would all of you prefer something sweet?” he seemed hesitant, and Jetstorm quickly realized he seemed displeased with the idea. It seemed this bot too preferred a non-sweet breakfast.

“No.” he assured. “They be eating not sweet breakfast as well. I be liking not sweet better for my breakfast. Sweet is for desert, I think.” he explained.

He noticed Prowl’s faint hum and the way his shoulders relaxed. “I see. Then it seems you and I are of the same thought.”

Jetstorm nodded, then stared at the ingredients laid out on the counter. “What you be making? I am not recognizing this.”

“Currently, I am preparing miso. It is a broth traditional to my home, made with a metalli-plant product and energon. I also plan on making rice and some egg roll.”

The youngling perked up at the mention of the last food, head tilting. “How do you be rolling an egg?” he asked, confused.

Prowl blinked, glancing at him. “You prepare the mix, then pour a thin layer of it in a heated pan, and as each layer cooks you roll it on itself, push it to the side of the pan, and add another layer.”

Jetstorm stared, brain struggling to picture his that would work, before he gave up and asked another question. “Can I help? Jazz is be cooking with me sometimes.”

Prowl seemed startled by the question, before he paused and nodded. “...I can take care of the rice. The miso just needs to simmer until it’s served. I can guide you through making the egg roll, if you’d like?”

Jetstorm perked up, beaming at the elder bot. “I be liking that very much!” he said eagerly. “Thank you!”

Prowl blinked slowly, then nodded and gestured at the young bot. “Get a bowl, a whisk, and some cyber-hen eggs.” he instructed, rummaging in the cupboards for rice, he stopped in surprise when he noticed a rice cooker, shaking his head as a small smile twitched at his lips. He shouldn’t be surprised. It was Jazz, after all. He pulled the rice cooker out of the cupboard, then found some rice in the next one over.

Jetstorm, meanwhile, gathered the things as instructed before turning back to the elder mech. “What else I be needing?” he asked

“Sugar, salt, soy sauce, and rice vinegar.”

The youngling gathered those as well, and turned his attention to Prowl once more. By that time, the older bot had set the rice to cook, and turned to focus on his cooking companion. Seeing the littler bot standing eagerly, Prowl restrained a smile. This was odd, but it was also....nice.

He guided Jetstorm through making the mix for the egg roll, letting the youngling do all the work as he kept watch. By the time the bot was almost done cooking the second roll, Jazz and Jetfire trudged into the kitchen, bleary eyed and curious at the smell of food.

Jazz recognized the meal immediately, perking up. “Makin’ yer favorite breakfast, Prowler?” he rumbled, walking past his friend to grab dishes, bumping their shoulders as he did. At his friend’s snort and muttered “obviously” he just chuckled and shook his head. Then he went out to the dining room, Jetfire following with cutlery. Prowl and Jerstorm transferred the food to serving dishware, then brought it out and sat down.

Jetstorm watched as the older ninja sliced the egg rolls, taking a few pieces for himself, then ladling miso into a small bowl and scooping rice onto his plate. The other three followed suit, and Jetstorm was about to spoon some miso into his mouth when he noticed both adults were simply lifting the small bowls to their lips to drink the broth. He blinked, startled, but shrugged it off and followed suit. If that was how it was meant to be consumed, who was he to disagree?

He returned his attention to Prowl as the older bot went to eat a bite of egg role, holding his breath. He blinked, then made an approving hum and took another bite. “Very well done, Jetstorm.” He said softly.

The youngling beamed at the praise, taking a bite of his own portion and humming. This was nice! It was very faintly sweet, but not too much so, and it went well alongside the rest of the breakfast.

“Prowl’s right, Jetstorm.” Jazz grinned at his young charge, “Ya did a fine job this mornin’, mechling.”

“Thank you.” Jetstrom said with a faint, shy grin.

“You be the one who is making the egg?” Jetfire asked, surprised.

“Yes, Prowl be teaching me!” Jetstorm chirped cheerfully, grinning at his brother. “Do you like it, brother? It is not being as sweet as your normal breakfast, but I think it is tasting good.” he hummed, taking another bite.

Jetfire hummed, pausing as he took a bite. “It is tasting good.” he said after a moment of thought. “Is it supposed to be so lumpy?”

At that, Jetstorm winced. While it was true the egg rolls tasted good, they were indeed lumpy and a bit wrinkled. He had struggled with rolling them properly, as each layer was so thin it broke too easily. “No.” he said despondently.

“That doesn’t matter.” Prowl said smoothly. “You did very well. Better than I did the first time I made these. My first attempt wasn’t even edible.” he murmured into a sip of miso.

Jetstrom blinked. “Really? So I is not being too bad at rolling the egg?”

Prowl quirked his lips. “Really. You just need to practice.” he paused as if thinking. “I...would also not mind cooking further meals with you in the future.”

At that, Jetstrom looked positively delighted. “You be hearing that, brother?” he crowed. “I can be cooking with Prowl again!”

Jetfire snorted into his rice. “You be saying that like you be winning something, brother!” he snipped. “Cooking is not being fun! It is so boring it be making me want to sleep!” he complained.

Jetstorm bristled. “That is not being true!” he protested. “And anyway, you be finding anything without action boring!”

Jetfire bristled, looking like he was going to snap something back when Prowl cleared his throat. “Jazz told me you two work during the day?” he said smoothly, redirecting their attention to him.

Jetstorm grinned. “Yes! Jetfire and I are being delivery bots! We are riding are special bike, it is being called Safeguard! We have been the ones who be building it!” he chirped.

“Impressive.” Prowl said, tilting his head.

Jetfire preened under the praise. “It is not always be working right, so we always be having to fix and upgrade it, but one day we will be making it work and then we will be the fastest delivery bots on all of Cybertron!”

“That is only being happening if you can be steering right when you drive!” Jetstrom cut in with a grin.

“I can be steering right! I am not the one who crashed us into the river!” Jetfire snarled in return.

“That time I was only be crashing us because you were being distracting!”

“I was not being! You could not be seeing the road right, brother! Are you being sure you do not need optical correctors?”

“I do not be needing them!” Jetstorm bared his teeth.

(Jazz watched, grinning into his bowl of miso, as Prowl once more redirected the twins from their argument. His old friend asked another carefully constructed question, trying to pull the two younglings into a proper discussion, and he felt something warm and fond settle deep in his chest. He’d missed Prowl something fierce in the years since the little ninja had gone missing, and a part of him was scared he’d never see Prowl again whenever he left his sight. But seeing this, his old friend and one of the most beloved people in his life, interacting so naturally with the little bots he’d adopted and come to love as his own sons...it did him something good. This, right here, was everything he had ever wanted for his future. Eating a nice, home cooked meal with his family, just enjoying a peaceful, easy morning. He knew Prowl would have to leave soon, but if he could have more days like this...he’d be happy. This was good. This was what home was supposed to be.)

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Jetfire set down his gaming console with an irritated grumble. He’d lost. Again. For some reason, he level he was on kept stumping him every time he tried it. He grumbled, flopping into a wide sprawl on his bed and staring at the ceiling of his room, which was decorated with a giant glow in the dark dragon sticker. He was bored. He couldn’t play with Jetstorm; his brother had gone with Jazz to the grocery store. But...Prowl had stayed. Maybe he could see what their adoptive Sire’s old friend was up to?

He slipped out of bed, having gotten properly dressed after breakfast, and padded out of his room. He checked the living room, but found it empty, and then wandered around the house until he saw the older mech in the back yard. He paused, watching him through the window. Prowl shifted into a crouch, hands pulled in against his hips, then shifted his weight slowly to his back foot before moving swiftly to shift his weight forward, leap straight up, and execute a complex twist and kick in the air before landing in a wider, lower crouch, one leg bent and the other straight, almost sitting in the grass, with one arm up by his shoulders and the other remains tucked close to his hips. Jetfire gaped, eyes going wide at the maneuver. It was complex, but Prowl had made it look so smooth and even, his movements natural and easy and Jetfire wanted.

The youngling hurried to the door, opening it and pouncing into the yard with an eager look. “That is being so cool!” he gasped, loud and delighted.

Prowl startled, body going stiff as he jerked to attention and snapped his head towards the smaller mech. “What?” he asked, confused.

“You did the kick and twist, yes? I was being watching you!” Jetfire chirped, practically bouncing in place. “It is being very cool. Do you be thinking you can teach me?” he asked, eyes wide and pleading and oh-so-hopeful.

Prowl faltered, stuttering as he tried to gather his thoughts after being so roughly startled out of his meditative mindset. After a moment, he managed to gather himself, and he straightened to stand fully. He was dressed in a loose tank top and sweatpants he’d borrowed his Jazz, once again wearing his visor, and his feet were bare. He’d come out here to the yard to practice some of his forms while his old friend was shopping. He’d thought Jazz had taken both younglings with him, but apparently the orange twin had stayed behind. He cleared his throat, frowning. “I am not sure.” he said haltingly.

Jetfire blinked, then frowned. “Please?” he asked earnestly. “It be looking fun and cool and I is being wanting to be able to do that too.”

Prowl sighed, crossing his arms and regarding the youngling. “I can’t teach you the maneuver you saw me do. Not yet. It took me training and practice before I could do that. Lots of it.”

Jetfire blinked, then sagged, signing. “I be understanding.” he said quietly. If it really did take that much training, he couldn’t fault the mech for not wanting to teach him.

Prowl paused when he saw how down the mechling looked, and he sighed. “...if you are willing to start with something less exciting, I would be alright with beginning to teach you the basics.” he offered. He didn’t know why he was doing this. Maybe it was because it felt wrong to see the orange youngling so down. Maybe it was because he remembered how he’d enjoyed bonding with Jetstorm that morning, and maybe it was because an old, long-buried part of him remembered how nice it felt to go through the forms with another frame at his side.

Jetfire perked up at the offer, the action almost puppy-ish in the way the little bot visibly brightened and his eyes lit up. “You be meaning it?” he asked eagerly. “You are really being okay with teaching me?”

“As long as you’re prepared for less glamorous lessons in the beginning.” Prowl said, bemused. At Jetfire’s rapid nodding, the ninja’s lips twitched. “First, you need better clothes. We don’t have proper training clothing here, but sweatpants and a tank top will do. Don’t wear your shoes.” he instructed,

Jetfire snapped a salute, then turned on his heel and raced to change. When he returned, he was dressed in his own tank top and sweatpants, and and came to a stop in front of Prowl. He was all but vibrating with his eagerness.

Prowl tilted his head, then nodded. “I want to teach you meditation at some point, as being able to slip your mind into a calm, still state is rather important for later lessons. But for now, I can teach you warm-up stretches and basic stances.” he said.

Jetfire made a face at the mention of meditation. But, he did remember that maneuver earlier. Prowl had looked so peaceful, and so calm and serene, and if that was a result of meditation than Jetfire was willing to give it a go. “Okay!” he chirped, snapping another salute.

Prowl exhaled a brief huff of laughter, then gestured the youngling to his side. “Do as I do. I’m going to guide you through a set of warm-up stretches. It will allow your body to be properly prepare for the real action.” he explained.

Jetfire nodded, then did as Prowl indicated. He watched as the older mech slid his feet into a wider stance, then arched down and to the side, stretching his arms down to touch his ankle and keeping his legs straight. He held that position, then slowly pulled up and repeated the action on the other side. After a brief hesitation, Jetfire copied him.

They spent a while slipping though various stretches, and by the end Jetfire was surprised by how he ached. It was bearable, but his body also was definitely not used to that type of activity. Still, he had to admit, his limbs did feel almost...looser, and he could understand why these stretches would be important before doing something more serious.

Prowl was watching the youngling carefully, and he nodded as he seemed to observe...whatever he was looking for. “Are you ready to continue?”

Jetfire nodded. “Ready!”

“Good. Try to copy me as best you can. I’ll correct you if need be. Right now, I’m going to just show you a few simpler stances.” He explained.

Prowl shifted, then stood with his back straight, feet planted shoulder width apart, hands fisted, and wrists crossed at his front near his hips. Jetfire stared, then mimicked him carefully, brow furrowed.

“This is the ready stance. It’s very easy to slip from this stance into the other basic forms.” he explained. “Hold it as you are. I’ll correct you.”

He slipped out of the stance, then walked forward and paced in a circle around the youngling. At his back, he pressed his palm to Jetfire’s spine. “Straighten further. Posture is important for what I’m teaching you. Poor posture can lead to improper balance, and that can in turn lead to injury.” he said carefully.

Jetfire straightened his spine, waiting until Prowl was in front of him again. The Praxian nodded. “Good. Now copy me again. I’ll show you another.”

He stepped back, slipping into the ready stance, then spun on his right heel 90° to the left, stepping forward with his left foot as he did. His left leg bent, his right remained straight. His left arm raised, elbow bent, to block in font of his face, and his right arm was bent tucked to his hip, hand fisted. Then in one movement, he lowered his blocking arm to bend and tuck at his hip, hand fisting, while his other arm shot out straight into a punch. He held that, then shifted his left foot back, arms relaxing to lover at cross in front of him at his hips until he was once more in the ready stance.

Jetfire watched everything with rapt attention, as as soon as the older bot looked at him he did his best to copy. He slid into the ready stance, about to move when Prowl stopped him.

“Slowly. Keep your back straight all throughout.” Then he stepped back and walked around the youngling to observe him carefully.

Jetfire did his best to copy what he’d seen Prowl do, but even he could tell it wasn’t perfect. The surprising thing was that, every time Prowl noticed a mistake in his stance, he’d put a hand out to halt the youngling, gently correct it, and then let him continue. Jetfire performed the whole maneuver several times, Prowl making corrections every time he did, until finally the Praxian nodded.

“Good.” he said, sounding pleased.

Then he moved to stand next to the youngling. “Together, now.” he encouraged.

And so they did. Jetfire could tell that Prowl’s movements were much more fluid, much more elegant, but at that moment he didn’t care. Pride filled his chest and he grinned as he came to a finish in the ready stance. As soon as he saw Prowl shift out of his own finishing stance and relax, the youngling launched himself at the older mech in a hug.

“Thank you!” he gasped, loud and delighted. This wasn’t as exciting as that twisting air kick, but for once Jetfire didn’t mind the lack of action. He’d found his body challenged all afternoon, his mind having to constantly work to keep track of every inch of his body to keep his form right, and he liked it. “Can you be teaching me more?” he asked eagerly.

Prowl blinked, then relaxed and shifted his arms to awkwardly hug Jetfire back, though the youngling didn’t seem to mind the stiffness of the action. “Not now. Your body needs rest. It’s not used to such activity. But...how about I teach you more the next time I’m here? In the meantime, practice those stretches and that maneuver.”

Jetfire blinked, then beamed. He stepped back, standing another salute and laughing. “Okay!”

At the the youngling’s playful actions, Prowl could only smile and shake his head.

(Jazz watched from the window, his lips pulled into a wide grin. He and Jetstorm had returned a short while before. The blue twin was digging through the kitchen for a snack, and Jazz had come looking for his other son and friend. He’d come to the window just in time to see Prowl step next to Jetfire and see them both shift through what he recognized as one of the first most basic sets of Circuit-Su. The full maneuver was actually much longer, but that was the first part of it. Jazz had watched Prowl perform it countless times in their youth. He watched his son laugh and tackle his old friend, and found his grin growing. He knew he couldn’t stop Prowl from continuing his self-imposed mission, but maybe, just maybe...he could give him a home, and more importantly, a family, to return to. Though, as he watched Jetfire send Prowl a sloppy salute and watched Prowl smile, he realized that maybe the twins were already taking care of that.)

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Dinner had come and gone, and Jazz and Prowl were out in the backyard, talking about...whatever it was they talked about. The Twins were curled up on the bed in Jetstorm’s room, staring at the large glow in the dark nebula painted onto the ceiling.

“Brother?” Jetstorm said quietly. “What you be thinking about Prowl?”

Jetfire was quiet for a moment, before he spoke. “I is liking him. He is not treating us like younglings when he fight, and he is not getting angry when I mess up when he is teaching me.”

Jetstorm nodded. “Yes. He did not be angry when I did not make the egg roll correctly.” he agreed.

Jetfire hummed, seemingly thinking hard about something. Jetstorm couldn’t resist. “Do not be thinking too hard, brother! I am not being sure your processor can handle the strain!” he crowed.

Immediately, Jetfire seemed to snap out of whatever train of thought he’d been stuck on. He rolled to face his brother with a snarl, eyes narrowed. They were both dressed in pajamas, and Jetstorm wasn’t wearing his visor. “Did you just suggest I’m being stupid?” he barked, eyes narrowed.

Jetstorm blinked at him, eyes wide and innocent. “Is it not the truth, brother?” he asked. “You could not even finish one level on your game. You be having to ask me to beat it for you!” he stated, grinning at his twin.

Jetfire growled and tackled his brother. Jetfire yelped, and they rolled and tussled on the bed as they tried to pin each other. “I is not being the one who bought salt when we be needing sugar!” Jetfire barked, briefly rolling on top of his brother.

Jetstorm sputtered, heaving forward and managing to roll them both over. “That is not being my fault! Someone else be putting salt with the sugar, and the bags be looking the same!” he protested. He managed to pin Jetfire, sitting on his brother’s stomach and smirking down at him. “And I am not the one who be spilling soup on Jazz!”

Jetfire hissed up at his brother, bucking underneath him....and sending them both crashing to the floor. Both twins froze, breaths stilling. They were supposed to be asleep. Sure enough, the door opened and Jazz peeked in, they could see Prowl glance though the open door behind him. The Praxian was once again dressed in a borrowed sleeping robe, and neither adult was wearing their visor.

“Really boys?” Jazz deadpanned. “It’s 11:00. Go to sleep. You have work tomorrow.”

The twins shot him identical grins, sheepish and embarrassed, and pulled each other up onto the bed. “Goodnight.” came two voices from the heap of blankets and younglings. Jazz felt himself soften. “Goodnight, boys.” he said warmly. To his surprise, he heard a soft voice behind him speak up. “Sleep well, little ones.” At their sleepy murmurs, he closed the door with a click.

In the bedroom, Jetstorm stared up at the ceiling. “I be liking Prowl.” he said softly. “I do not be wanting him to disappear again.”

At his side, he heard a sleepy grunt of agreement. “Me too. I be hoping we can make him to to stay.”

Jetstorm smiled. Yes, that was what they could do. If they showed Prowl that there was something for him here, maybe he would stay. “Goodnight, brother.”

A yawn. “Goodnight.”

(Outside the door, Jazz stood calmly under Prowl’s probing stare. He was grinning, lazy and pleased, and he knew what his old friend was thinking. Still, he wouldn’t say anything until the Praxian did. Yet, it seemed he wouldn’t, because he only huffed and shook his head, taking one more look at the twin’s door before turning towards the guest bedroom. As he left, Jazz’s grin softened and he glanced at the closed door. Yeah, the twins were growing on Prowl. He just hoped it stuck. He wasn’t ready to lose his friend a second time.)

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In the guest bedroom, Jazz and Prowl both sat on the bed. Jazz had followed his old friend, wanting to have one last talk before he settled down to sleep in his own room. The two mechs sat in silence, Prowl staring out the window at the night sky. On the nightstand, Jazz saw a bundle of gold fabric. It took him a moment, but he remembered where he’d seen it. It was the sash that Yoketron had often worn. Well, that was as good a point as any

“....I know I can’t stop you from continuing your little mission.”

“No. You cannot.”

“Yeah. Figured.” Jazz sighed. “So I won’t. I ain’t sure I can help you either. I’ve looked over all the police information on the case, Prowl. You’ve told me what you know about it, and...well.” he sighed. “To be honest with you, the police don’t know all that much more than you do, mech.”

Prowl exhaled roughly. He’d known his friend had joined the force, and he couldn’t deny a part of him had been hoping for more information in the face of Jazz’s willingness to lend aid. “I suppose I should have expected as much.”

Jazz grimaced. “I’m sorry, Prowl.” He glanced at the old sash. “I know how close you and your Sire were.”

Prowl flinched, looking down at his lap. “Indeed.” he said, voice tight.

“Made me jealous, you know.” Jazz mused. “Seein’ how much ol’ Yoketron would dote on you...sometimes I wished my own Sire and Carrier would be like that. I was more an heir to them than a son, I suppose.” he mused.

Prowl winced. “I...I may have been my Sire’s heir, but...I do not think he would have been angry had I chosen a different path. If things....if things were different.” he admitted, voice quiet and pained.

Jazz smiled sadly. “Y’know, I think you’re right. You were his son first, and his heir second. That’s what made me so jealous.” he chuckled. Then he sighed, leaning back on his hands.

“I got over it right quick though.” he mused.

Prowl looked up, surprised. “You...did?”

“Yep.” he grinned at his friend. “How could I stay jealous when I learned why he cherished you the way he did?”

“What do you mean?” Prowl blinked, now just very confused.

“I learned how easy it is to love you.” Jazz confessed. He pushed himself closer to his friend, gaze fond and adoring.

Prowl stiffened, inhaling sharply. Jazz knew he was remembering their first kiss in the dojo gardens, shared over a handful of gifted flowers and hidden behind leafy bushes. He knew he was remembering the many quick, stolen kisses that followed. Kisses to lips, to cheeks, to foreheads and noses and jaws. They never took it further, then. They were too young, too shy and only just learning of their own intimacies, not yet ready to share that with another.

“Jazz...” Prowl whispered. “I’m not sure...” he trailed off.

Jazz smiled. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea either.” He admitted. “But that don’t mean I’m not willing to try. I think it’s worth it, Prowl. I think you’re worth it.” For a second, he held his breath. Hoping, praying that he didn’t just screw this up forever and that he wasn’t about to lose Prowl again.

Then his friend swallowed, and ducked his head. “I think you’re worth it too.” he whispered. “I want to, Jazz, but there’s so much that could go wrong.”

Jazz paused. “I know.” he said seriously. “What you’re doing is dangerous.” He said.

Prowl let out a shuddering breath. “Then how...?”

“We take it one day at a time, my mech.” Jazz said, leaning in and meeting Prowl’s uncertain gaze.

“One day at a time.” Prowl whispered. “That sounds...reasonable.”

“Good.” Jazz grinned. “I’m gonna kiss you now, Prowl.”

The Praxian let out a breathless laugh. “Then do it.”

And he did.

(That night, two aching souls reconnected. It was a fragile bond, riddled with cracks and insecurities. That sparks that fueled it both burned bright for each other, it was only the uncertainties of the lives the two mechs led that kept the two sparks from fully reaching for one another. That night, two bots relearned their love for each other in a series of kisses, long and soft and sweet. There was passion, but not of the fiery kind, for tonight was not about that. Kisses and whispered words of affection and apology and assurance were exchanged, and slowly, festering cracks began to heal. That night, Jazz and Prowl remembered why they had fallen for each other in the first place, and they fell only further as they exchanged truths and promises from their very sparks. They could not be sure of what was to come, but they could know they would have each other’s strength to borrow whenever they had need of it. That night, Jazz regained a lost love he had only ever hoped for.)

(That night, Prowl began to heal.)

✧

The song for this one represents the relationship between Jazz and Prowl, but also the familial bond building between Prowl and the twins. It’s “Love Can Build a Bridge” by The Judds. Thought it’d be fitting for the relationships and character journeys in this little family unit.

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