#waiting on the processor to show up any day...

[lets-try-some-writing]

Okay, I was reading the Mr. Pax Teacher Au and this idea popped in my head. So basically Optimus is finishing up a work day and a staff member comes up saying someone is here claiming to be his ‘wife’. Optimus questions the staff for a bit and then they reveal they have “pink hair”. Optimus then goes outside to see someone patiently waiting for him with a smile. (I’m a sucker for OptimusxElita, sue me!) Also Elita going “Yeah, you would.” Cause she just knows him. Hope this idea is fun for you!

Well I can't NOT write a snippet for this thank you. I have exactly two ships that I will devour without hesitation and Optimus/Elita happens to be one of them.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Optimus's digits tapped on the desk along to the beat of a simple tune he hummed to himself as he looked over the day's papers. There were quite a few interesting pieces from his young archivists- students. His dear students. They showed such interest in the history he taught them. It was a joy to watch them grow and thrive under his tutelage.

"Abigail, you impress me yet again." He smiled as he looked over the girl's artwork. The assignment for the week had been to compose a model of something Cybertronian. Abigail, one of his more artistic students, had created quite the work of art. Despite having never seen any actual images of Optimus's fallen world, she managed to capture an admittedly quite accurate, if a tad abstract, vision of Uraya. It prompted his spark to flare in joy within his true frame.

"Mr. Pax, apologies for intruding." A feminine voice broke him from his work, prompting Optimus to place down his pile of paperwork and look up. Mrs. Glass, the school nurse, stood in the doorway nervously. She patted down her knitted sweater in what Optimus could only assume was anxiety considering the lack of any noticeable contaminant.

"Can I help you Mrs. Glass?" The nurse shifted uncomfortably before she nodded. Optimus stood up slowly, concern growing in his processors as he ran through the possible issues that might have arisen while he was working. Was the headmaster trying to tamper with affairs again?

"There is a woman outside who is claiming to be your wife." Optimus froze, his expression shifting as he tried to parse out what was happening. Arcee had already taken on the role of "aunt" for Jack. Being Optimus's wife would break her cover. It couldn't be June either for similar reasons.

Was he being stalked?

"Does she have any distinguishing features?" His expression settled into something firm as he readied himself to have to politely tell a confused woman that she had the wrong individual.

"She has pink hair and bright blue eyes. I think she might be wearing colored contacts." Whatever worry was settling into his spark halted the moment he got out the door and heard the nurse's explanation. Instead, faint hope grew steadily as he increased his pace and Mrs. Glass continued.

"She stated that her name was Ariel of Iacon. Although I am not sure where that city is-" Optimus stopped listening and broke into a sprint as he forced his holoform to go faster than it should have been able to according to human biology.

She couldn't be here.

He sent her away after the Allspark was taken from its place.

There was no way his Conjunx was on Earth after so many millennia apart.

"Being a teacher suites you." It was not the voice he knew, not entirely. There was none of the underlying glyphs or tones of their homeworld, but he knew her voice anywhere. He could never mistake her.

"Elita." He stepped out, his holoform momentarily flickering as Elita-One waited for him patiently, her arms crossed over her chest and a font smile on her face. He could almost see the mighty warrior that was his Conjunx through the veil of her disguise. He could hardly wait to wrap her in his arms properly as soon as they were away from prying optics.

"I missed you." She was the first to wrap her arms around him, organic as they were. Their forms melded in places as their holoforms struggled to maintain the illusion alongside their raging emotional states. However, Optimus found he didn't care as he looked into oh so human eyes and saw the spark of a Cybertronian hidden behind them.

She was here. He didn't know how or why, but Elita was here with him once more.

"I stopped by your base before I came here. I wanted it to be a surprise." She laughed as she nuzzled against his neck, searching for sensory lines that where not there. Optimus wrapped his limited EM field around her as he processed her presence and relished in it.

"It has been a most pleasant surprise to see you here after so long." Distantly, he noted Mrs. Glass watching from the school entrance. Optimus didn't bother looking back as he pulled away and took Elita's hands in his. The paperwork could be dealt with later. For now, there were bonds to be reforged, memories to share, and many long cycles apart to make up for.

"To base then?" Elita smiled up at him. Optimus could almost imagine her antennae perking up as he grinned in response.

"If that is what you want love."

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #elita one #alternate universe #teacher au #mr pax strikes again #now with his wife mrs pax #optimus x elita #oplita

[botboots]

Hey! I'm probably SOOO late to transformers fanfics and one shots but I've come with this prompt,( I hope you like it enough to write it!) could you write Ratchet x injured reader, g/n or female. Injured shoulder, and maybe trying to hide it from him? Also in Tfp? If all this isnt too much to ask? Thank you for considering! Have a good day/ night

a/n: heehee this one was fun. the dialogue is kinda splotchy because theres a lot going on in my brain rn but!! hope you like it <3 also reader is cybertronian bc there are NOT enough cybertronian!reader fics out there and theyre very fun to write tbh. hope thats okay!!

ALSO! guidelines have been updated so before anyone submits a new req please read it! and please please request mirage/rotb fics oh my god im obsessed with it ROTB WAS SO GOOD </33

warnings: very minor injuries, pining <3 word count: 1059 (GN, cybertronian!reader) continued under the cut

-----------------

The purple and green swirl of the ground-bridge closed behind you as you followed your team back into base, the lingering energy buzzing under your plating.

Glancing at Bumblebee, a small twinge of pity struck you as he made his way over to the medical bay. The scout had taken a few nasty punches from Breakdown and clearly wasn’t feeling too hot; dents littering his armor.

“We showed ‘em, huh?” your focus was snatched when Bulkhead caught you off guard with his usual celebratory elbow-bump, sending you stumbling a little from the force. A sharp pain ran up your arm to your shoulder and you winced.

“Yea- totally.” sending the wrecker a strained smile, you gave him a half-hearted push back. He tilted his head, about to open his mouth to ask you something when Miko booked it over to the two of you, questions spilling out of her mouth at a mile a minute. All of them were something gore or violence related, asking Bulkhead if he got any pictures of some “hardcore massacre-ing”. The girl's interests were a little concerning, but endearing. Nonetheless, you took the opportunity to slink away and avoid any more attention. Angling your helm, your face scrunched up at the sight - and feeling - of the wound on your shoulder.

Too focused on the fight in front of you, a stray Vehicon had been able to sneak up behind you and catch you by surprise. Fortunately for you, Vehicons were mass trained for quantity over quality and didn’t have the best shots. The blast grazed your shoulder, tearing between some of your paneling to the barely exposed wires. It hurt like a bitch at first, but adrenaline buried it enough that it wouldn’t distract you - plus it was small enough that none of your team noticed. Now that you were back at base, though, the piercing sting prodded at your processor incessantly. You did want to go and see Ratchet about it - always finding some kind of excuse to be around the mech - but he was dealing with Bumblebee right now, and you didn’t want to add to his plate. Not like it was anything life-threatening, anyway. You could just try and patch it up yourself - you’ve spent enough time with Ratchet to pick up a few things yourself.

You stole a glance at said medic, who you only just noticed was looking right at you. Immediately you realized from the questioning look on his face, raised brow and all, he had probably caught both your reaction to Bulkhead bumping into you and the grimace you had made at your shoulder. Optimistic, you shook your head at him, giving the mech a meager thumbs-up and a “I'm-actually-totally-fine” smile. He gave you a hard stare, and your spark sank when he motioned you over with a flick of his digits. You begrudgingly made your way over to the medical bay. As you neared, Ratchet had already cleared Bumblebee and was shooing him out. The scout passed you, and your attention was focused on Ratchet waiting with a cocked helm and his ever-present RBF. Standing awkwardly under his gaze, almost scrutinizing, you huffed. Without a word, the red and white medic picked up his scanner, turning it on with a loud click and running the green laser over your frame.

“Really, doc - I’m fine. It’s nothing.” you tried, and failed, as he kept the device lingering at your shoulder. With a deadpan look covering his faceplate, he put the scanner down and placed his servos over your shoulder plating. You grit your denta to keep a pained hiss from leaving you, wincing when he felt around the frayed wiring.

“Nothing, huh?” you pouted at his scoff, his metal brows knitted together as he examined the shot that had barely missed doing any serious damage. “Sit.” he ordered, gesturing to the medical berth while he moved to grab some tools from a nearby counter. Embarrassment was settling in your chassis, but you did as you were told.

It technically didn’t take long to patch you up, but the old mech made it seem like eons to you with the way he was muttering about “some of the team having egos too big for their own good.” It only made the burn of embarrassment grow, and you ducked your head when he gave you a pointed look. Ratchet was nothing if not thorough in ensuring you knew when he disapproved of something.

Soon enough he finished up, giving the patched wound a once-over.

“Anything else you’re not telling me?” he questioned, the familiar lilt of sarcasm back in his tone. That at least steadied your nerves a little.

“No, sir.” you mocked, raising one of your servos in a half-assed salute.

He scowled, crossing his arms, “I’ll have Optimus enforce mandatory health checks every time you come back to base.”

Frantically shaking your helm, you raised both servos defensively, “Okay, okay!” you sputtered, “Won’t happen again.” His optics narrowed, giving you a hard stare, and you released a heavy sigh. “Promise.”

Ratchet debated it for a moment, still having half a mind to just assign the checks anyway, but as you kept your optics trained on his, the mech’s will buckled and he huffed a quick, “Good.”

You both were staring at each other for just a moment too long before Ratchet gave a quick cough. “Come back if the pain flares up again.” he waved you off as he made his way back to his usual spot at the terminal. You blinked, watching him walk off with a slightly heated face. Awkward. Hopping off the medical berth, you were careful not to irritate your shoulder and mess it up more than it already was. As you walked past Bumblebee he whirred to grab your attention. You paused, turning your head to him with a raised metal brow.

The scout chirped at you teasingly from where he sat, nodding his head way too obviously towards you and then Ratchet, who was already burying himself back in his work. Your optics widened, immediately narrowing into an offended glare as you jabbed a digit towards him.

“Don't. Even.” you grumbled, folding your arms and walking briskly away from Bumblebee’s poorly stifled, chittering laugh that echoed behind you. Your previous pity for the mech quickly dissipated as your faceplate burned. Primus.

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers fanfiction #tf x reader #tfp x reader #transformers prime #transformers ratchet x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #ratcher x reader #transformers fanfic #tfp fanfic

[inkskinned]

red used to get me scratchies and we'd sit in his truck quietly working quarters over papers. we aren't biological - my parents are friends with him; i spent enough summer weekends at their cottage on the beach that it feels like family anyhow. he and his wife come to all the family big events like it's no big deal.

i get nervous around people a lot. like i am am intruding, somehow, just by existing. red has the kind of personality that feels calming - like, it's okay, you're supposed to be here. i often will bolt through any explanation of my life or passions - blurting it out in a series of seconds, worried i'll be cut off or it won't be interesting to the other person, desperate to get a sentence finished.

sometimes i wanna be a good friend like painting the sky yellow just 'cause it's your favorite color. like made your favorite dessert. a week ago i caught my finger in a food processor making a three-layer chocolate mousse. called my brother from the kitchen floor, holding paper towel around the cut. surrounded by blood and crushed oreos. after this - i'm okay - i still finished making the dessert.

i used to think if i could study love - in books, in tv, in magazines - i could figure out how to get comfy with it. to trust it. other people kept telling me life is a tightrope love is a net! and i'd flinch. a net is, at the end of the day, to catch things. i can't explain why that's scary.

red says the truck only runs because he asks it nicely. it should have died 23 years back, if anybody is counting. it was quiet in their cabin. the quiet used to make me uneasy. i was waiting for something bad, certain it would happen eventually.

sometimes i think i have to make up for all the ways i'm a bad person and for all the ways that bad things have happened to me by being the nicest, kindest, most beautifully-charming person who will ever be. i think i have to make everyone laugh and clap and leave smiling. if i am very good, they will love me. i still think the love will wear off when they look away. that it comes temporary. so i have to keep it up. i have to keep up being perfect, always, and maybe one of them will keep me.

red once greeted me for the summer by waving me over to a small freezer in the garage. he was secretly stashing all the popsicles with our favorite flavor. truth be told, i think he probably showed my siblings, too - and all the adults definitely knew. but it felt good to pinky-promise that this was just-between-us-two.

i think maybe sometimes the way we learn how to love is just osmosis. like - i wasn't always raised right. i learned love is thin. that it flakes off easy, butterfly wing material. that you have to scrape by with what you get. that you have to earn it. that you have to be funny, cool, full of exciting interests.

if you're lucky, though. i think the quiet ways people can love us work just the same. the simple, gentle hush of a summer holiday. the way the hydrangeas got tall and bushy. what i'm saying is that... if i'm good - really good - if i believe in love, i mean.

i only believe in it because of the way those few kind people showed me. in all the rest of it. their gentle image - eventual reprieve.

#spilled ink #warm up #red is a real person and these are real memories #BUT #his name isn't red #although i associate him w/that color #that family is SUCH good people

[cozzzynook]

Cybertron being split in half. Hot Rod finds out he's pregnant and decides to tell Soundwave who's on the other side because he deserves to know. He's terrified Soundwave will reject him.

I LOVE a secretive pregnancy situation in fiction!! I know its cringe to a lot of people but i love it! ( in fiction & when its done right )

So i love this ask!

I also love turmoil of the pregnant person not knowing if the other will accept!

Rodimus felt so sick and exhausted in the days leading to cybertron being split in half!

While the planet wasn’t literally split in half it was split by a giant wall that kept one side for Decepticons and the other for autobots.

It was after saving everyone from the quints and a painfully tense truce was called did the wall go up and neither side were permitted to interact with the other.

But by then it was too late.

Soundwave and Rodimus were already spark dancing and performing conjunx endurea.

The two interfaced every chance they could which wasn’t a lot since they were fighting to survive and free their home planet. But they did. They found some time to be alone and connect in a way neither thought possible nor deserving.

Their last round of interfacing is probably what did it.

The spike sealer broke and Rodimus’ gestation tank must’ve opened because nothing came out of his valve after they untangled from each other and before they could ponder on the situation Whirl was barging in telling them they had to leave because it wasn’t safe anymore.

Soundwave growling and becoming possessive over him didn’t help matters at all since he had to keep Soundwave from ripping Whirls only retina out.

From there they were too busy saving their home world and themselves to think on it.

By the time Rodimus realized his exhaustion wasn’t just from having a breather he was already experiencing motion and transformation sickness and his tank was beginning to feel heavy.

He went to Ratchet in secret and his diagnosis was confirmed off the data space.

He was sparked.

Sparked by a decepticon he had yet to complete conjunx ritus and the very same decepticon that was Megatrons close right hand mecha along with Shockwave.

Rodimus feared the worst when he laid awake in berth rubbing the already present swell on his tanks.

Showing so early on meant there was more than one sparkling and while Ratchet said it was still a bit too early for him to get a better view and in case things changed, he didn’t doubt this was the case.

His processor never seemed to rest from the moment he onlined to the moment he entered a forced shut down from the viral pills Ratchet had given him.

He couldn’t postpone telling Soundwave for too long seeing as he needed his transfluid and his spark yearned for him more than anything.

The wall had been up for a full total of thirty two solar cycles and since his tanks have grown. Not noticeable to any outsiders of course but to those who know him, they can tell.

His em field while safe when sealed shut, was completely shrouded in sparkling and carrier pheromone.

He accidentally let it slip while falling in and out of recharge in his office. Just his luck Optimus walked in and demand he go home to rest properly and that they would discuss this further when he came back.

He felt both humiliated and frustrated at being treated like a simple civi carrier and not the Prime he was now.

Things had changed in those thirty two days of the wall being up and while his status as Prime was still new and kept under the motor, Rodimus still didn’t want to treated as weak. Weaker than when he was Hot Rod at that.

But Optimus was right in treating him like he was weak. He was weak. Weak from lack of transfluid and his intended conjunxs spark flumes and energy.

If he went any longer without it, both he and his sparkling will offline.

So he has no choice. Thirty two solar cycles of worrying, waiting, contemplating, fearing and repeatedly going back and forth in his own processor on what to do. He decided.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he sighed to himself, sitting at the communications station where a private comm and video link was uploaded with a press of his digit. The signal was sent to the only bot he knew could pick up on it.

The sound of his spark as a hidden echo location call was answered far too fast for his liking.

There on screen was Soundwave, his Soundwave.

Stripped of additional armor, in his berth with Lazerbeak and Ravage recharging on their respective sides of the large cushioned slab while his mask lay on a desk along with his visor.

Completely bare and gaze worried, relieved, searching, calculating and already getting up to retrieve him, Soundwave in all his natural beauty and elegance stalled Rodimus dermas and gripped his voice box in a vice.

The turbo cat snatched his glossa and he could nothing but sit and half listen to Soundwave shuffle around his hab suite getting ready to retrieve him as he called his cassettes to dock.

“I have your location Hot Rod, I’m not letting any bot get in my way of taking whats mine.”

“Rodimus.”

Seems the turbo cat was actually fox with how sly they decided to play letting his glossa free at such a tragic time on his frames nerves.

“My name is Rodimus now..I became a prime..”

The shock was evident even through the mask but even with news as spark stalling as that Soundwave trudged on and marched quickly from the base he was staying in.

He was outside in the dark low lit lands when Rodimus broke the news telling him to wait.

“I don’t care if you’re a prime now, Rodimus,” his designation sounded like cyber honey on his future conjunxs glossa and Rodimus was really annoyed with his em fluctuating to being charged.

The blush tinting his face paint made Soundwave smirk before continuing his march and Rodimus felt bad all over again.

“I feel i ruin everything..”

“You becoming prime ruins nothing between us, sweet spark.”

“Sweet sparks…” he mumbled, hoping Soundwave both did and did not hear him. But the mech was not called Soundwave for nothing.

“What did you say?”

“I-I said..sweet sparks,” he closed his optics standing on trembling stabilizers that did little to balance him. He gripped the communications desk to stay level as his rounding tank was revealed.

Was it just him or did it seem it grow more now that he was showing his sparklings sire the result of their actions?

“I’m sparked,” he nervously revealed, fright on every bit of his words, “they’re yours,” he finished on bouncing shoulder struts and shaking digits that scratched the surface.

“Say something,” he spewed panicked after moments of silence and shock on Soundwaves part.

The communication line ended abruptly and Rodimus stood there feeling the universe around him expose and leave him for the pits of a nasty rust.

His knee shielding’s buckled and he fell to the chair unrecognized to the air blowing against his sensitive spoiler nor the coolant drenching his facial plating and thigh coverings.

He didn’t feel anything as his sensors and neuronet turned to scrap.

Rodimus doesn’t know how long he sat in the chair leaking. All he knows is that when the sound of commotion entered his audial’s and a sonic boom unlike anything he’s ever felt or heard before shook the entire station and the glass almost cracked knocking him from shock even further.

He didn’t have enough time to straighten himself before he was wrapped in the arms of the bot his spark was created to attach to.

Rodimus felt his neurons fire off one by one as his arms wrapped around the feral bot whose em field promised a painful offlining to any besides himself.

He felt a faint buzzing in the pits of his tanks through the cord that ran to his spark connecting him to his building sparkling.

It took a moment to realize that what he felt was not shock or fear but the sparkling, their sparkling, calling out and accepting Soundwave as their sire.

“Soundwave…”

“Come on.”

“Wha-what..?”

Soundwave helped Rodimus stand fully, arm protective and secure around his future conjunx as he let his em field pulse in warning.

“Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“Home? But-Soundwave I thought, I thought you didn’t want me anymore..I-what will the others say?”

“Rodimus. I will always want you. You are mine, from the moment we grew close you were mine. I don’t care what the others have to say. They know their place. They won’t dare harm you.”

“But..what about Megatron?”

“As third in command and one of his oldest friends, he will give me what I desire. This won’t hinder my work nor will I allow his feelings to come between us. Its either he accepts or lose one of his best soldiers. He knows that.”

Rodimus felt his world lift off after that promise.

He didn’t even realize they were already in Decepticon territory by the time he came back to himself.

It was something he’d later beat himself up over but for now, as they shared a berth and reveled in the energy that was their building sparkling, he allowed himself the weakness of tuning the rest out and focus on the comfort his sparkling and conjunx provided him.

-

#hot rod x soundwave #hot rod cyberverse #hot rod #soundwave cyberverse #cyberverse #soundrod #rodimus prime x soundwave #earthspark soundwave #earth spark soundwave #soundwave headcanons #sparklings #mechpreg #tfp sparklings #hurt/comfort #transformers cybertron

[moonlight-tmd]

Thinking about little Bee being found by Optimus out on the streets. [Part 1]

OP had just lost his friend Elita- the grief had overtook his mind and he was put on a leave until things have cleared up, the two had... a special kind of friendship. He was going back to his quarters in Iacon Minor when he heard yelling in some alley.

"You little pest! I'll show you what happens when you steal-!" He saw a neutral bot holding up a tiny yellow Sparkling by the scruff, servo-held blaster aimed for its helm.

His instincts kicked in and he rushed at the bot and strangled him. The bot dropped the Sparkling and the blaster, once Optimus managed to knock him out he wanted to make sure the Sparkling was okay but there was no one but him there. It must have run off, he tried looking for it but no success. He decided to go back to his quarters.

He kept thinking about that situation- what was a Sparkling doing there? Sparklings should not wander out on streets, they should be with their parents or a caretaker. This one was all alone... His processor would not leave him alone about it, he found himself periodicaly visiting the area he saw the Sparkling in, looking into other alleys in hopes to find it.

Few times he thought he saw a brief flash of yellow scurrying away into some crack near the various restaurants or dumpsters but he could never catch it. One time his search was interrupted by a group of rough-looking bots- apparently the bot he beat up earlier was a part of some gang and they decided to take their payback. They left him dented in the trash with missing parts. Blurry vision slowly returned back to normal and he sat up- there it was, the tiny yellow Sparkling stood right in front of him, expression unclear, it only looked at him with these big blue optics. He could see it had two little horns, its frame was littered with scratches and half-healed dents...

"You need help." Its tiny quiet voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The tiny Sparkling was holding some small container, it walked closer to him and pulled out few torn up fabric pieces. It grabbed his digit and Optimus let it pull his servo closer to it. "You helped me, so now I'll help you." It said as it wrapped the pieces around his servo and stabilizer in a makeshift bandaid. There wasn't much of them in the first place so that's all that got treated.

"You need to avoid these guys. They'll hurt everyone they don't like." The Sparkling said, Optimus tried to ask few questions; What's your name? Where are your parents? The Sparkling stood quiet for a bit before flinching and quickly looking in some direction- alarmed Optimus looked in the same direction- there was nothing there... When he looked back the Sparkling was gone.

The next times he's been looking in the area were more succesful- he actually managed to spot the tiny Sparkling trying to climb into some backside dumpster of some food place. It got startled when he called out to it, tried to run again but stopped when Optimus started speaking. It again didn't answer any of his questions, he guessed it was hungry and told it to wait and that he'll be right back. He went into the shop and bought some freshly baked goods before going back behind the building. The Sparkling wasn't there, but it didn't take long before it came out of the hiding when he called. He offered it the food and after a little bit of hesitation the bitlet latched onto it and took it out of his servo and stuffed his little intake with it. It must have been very hungry...

They sat on some crates as the little one finished another rust bun. The Sparkling actually talked to him this time- his name was Bumblebee (his age could be equal to human 5 year old, he was so small he didn't even reach OP's knee joint). They talked for a bit- Bee told him he knew he was trying to find him. Later Bumblebee said he had to go, Optimus tried to offer helping him get back but Bee had already run off to some other alley.

Surprisingly, the next cycle(day) he was in the same place, near the dumpster. It would seem he was waiting for Optimus to get here. This repeated for few cycles, one time Bee asked Optimus to follow him. It was surprising how well the little Sparkling navigated thru the back alleys and tight corridors between buildings, like he knew the area from memory. After some time they reached some closed off alley with a shelter build from scraps, crates and some tarp. "This is my home." Bee has said when Optimus asked what that was.

Bee refused to leave so from then on Optimus visited Bee's little shack almost every cycle. He brought him fresh food and fuel every time, even energon. The times he couldn't go because of work he made sure to bring more food to make up for his absence. Sometimes they talked- Bee was very crafty and knew a lot about survival for his age. Optimus didn't know if it was more impressive or concerning. One time he tried to pet his helm, but the Sparkling just flinched away and looked at him warily.

Then a decacycle(week) later, the post-effects of the Archa-7 incident happened- he was demoted to low ranking Prime- he has been assigned to datawork until further notice. He came back home sad and grabbed a can of high grade mix to drown the sorrows in. Before he could open it tho he noticed droplets on the window- it wasn't water, Cybertron didn't have normal rain. What it did have were acidic downpours that made unprotected metal rust. The image of Bee's poor and unstable shelter flashed in his mind. Without a nanoklik to spare be grabbed a protective hover-shield (their sort of umbrella) and rushed down the roads to the area Bee lived in. Upon arrival he saw the shelter- it was caved in, the already rusted scrap in it getting more holes the more acid fell down. He called, nothing. He was about to move onto another spot when he noticed a piece of tarp hanging out of some low-placed airvent. Most of the screws were gone so it was easy to open it. Inside sat little Bumblebee, wrapped up in the tarp that used to be on the shelter, he appeared to be recharging.

He couldn't stay here, Optimus gently took him out of the vent- Bee was so cold to the touch- he placed him on his seat and drove back to his quarters.

Bumblebee woke up in something soft, it took him a bit to become alarmed cuz his vent wasn't soft at all. He was in some big room, on a big berth, wrapped up not in tarp but a warm blanket. Then someone entered the room, it was Optimus. "Hey Bumblebee." His voice was quiet as if to not startle the Sparkling further. The soft smile accompanied by the gentle gaze of his optics. "Did you recharge well?"

Optimus explained Bee was in his private quarters and that Bee can stay as long as he wants. He brought him some homemade fuel-stew that Bee ate right up. Later he took Bee for a bath cuz he was very much dirty. He was careful with the areas that still had healing wounds, he treated those later.

Optimus let Bee recharge in his berth while he crashed at the couch in the guest room. The next cycle Optimus woke up and checked on Bee the berth was empty. Going into full panic mode he looked everywhere in every room before finally crashing into the kitchen and seeing Bee stitting on the counter monching on some rust sticks. Turns out Bee usually started his cycle way earlier than Optimus- as in 2 joors(hours) earlier than Optimus.

They ate the morning meal and Optimus had to leave for work, much to his displease. He made sure Bee could access anything he needed and told him when he'll be back and to not touch certain stuff that might cause him harm. Even tho he knew Bee could take care of himself he couldn't help but be anxious the whole time.

They were getting along just fine, Optimus sure was happy when Bee didn't flinch and let him pet his helm. He even bought him some toys, Bee didn't seem to be interested in them much, except for one- the little stuffed blue-silver seeker toy with yellow eyes. Bee always seemed to carry it around, he always had it when Optimus put him to recharge.

Then one time when Optimus was going back from some other part of Iacon he noticed something, a familiar faceplate right on one of the holo-leaflets on the info-board. "Missing Sparkling. If found, please contact..." there was a contact number and address of Iacon's Carequarters. He looked at the notice stunned... Bumblebee was from an orphanage? The little Sparkling never told him why he was living on the streets nor where he was from or if he had any relatives. He didn't know what to feel... he took the leaflet with him and hid it to look at later.

The next day when Optimus left for work Bee thought it would be good to look around the quarters some more. He was there for few cycles now. He knew the layout of some of the rooms but there were still some places he had yet to look around. He looked thru the washroom, the room that was used as a storage and the one he saw Optimus walk into a few times. It was a workplace filled with files and some other stuff for grown-up work. He looked around and was about to leave but then he noticed something different hanging from the edge of the desk. He manged to push some box near and grab it-...

Optimus came back home a bit later than usual, he went to the new cafeteria that opened up and bought some sweets to share with Bee. "Bumblebee! I'm back!" He called out, but there was no response. He looked around the quarters still calling out, he hoped the Sparkling was playing hide and seek again but he didn't find him. He looked thru every cabinet and storage unit but nothing. Bumblebee was just gone. The panic only rose when during his search he noticed fuel and med supplies missing from certain cabinets.

He drove down to Bee's camping spot but found nothing more than the still-broken shelter from the downpour. He kept looking, panic and worry fueled his thoughts to find Bee. The solar cycle was ending, lunar planets slowy making an appearence as the lunar cycle was closer. His attenention got caught on some chatter outside some low-end night club. "Aww, lil' pretty thing- C'mon, we can have some fun.~" "No- let me go!"

Optimus saw some small-class grounder holding little Bee's arm while he tried to break free. "LET GO OF HIM!!" The next thing the drunk creep-bot felt was a hard punch to the face before he ran for his life. In the meantime Bee ran too, he tried to lose Optimus in the alleys but the big bot caught up to him quickly- "Leave me alone!!" He tried to break free from Optimus' grasp the same way he tried to get away from that creepy old bot.

"Bumblebee- please-" "NO!" Bee broke free and continued yelling. "You want to put me in that evil place again!" Tears streaming down his everlasting unclear expression, but now it was scrunched up in hurt.

" 'Evil place'-?" "The Carequarters!... Don't lie, I saw the leaflet! You wanna send me back to that place!" Optimus was frozen, was this why Bee ran away?

Bee was about to run off again when Optimus spoke up. "No, Bee wait-! I wasn't gonna put you in the Carequarters! This is a misunderstanding!"

"..What?" Bee sniffled, Optimus' expression softened from distressed to worried. "Bumblebee... I know you have reasons not to trust people, and I know you don't trust me fully. But I promise you, I will never do anything to hurt you. If you don't wanna go back there then I won't force you to. I'll do anything to protect you." Optimus slowly opened his arms to Bee, hesitantly the little Sparkling carefully stepped closer to him and let Optimus gently pull him into a hug. "I was so worried..." He whispered, relief washing over him as he held the bitlet close.

They got back to Optimus' quarters and Optimus treated the fresh cuts Bee had gotten, both sat in silence. Optimus, both curious and worried decided to start a small talk.

"Bumblebee?" The Sparkling only hummed in return, letting him know he heard it. "If I may ask... why do you not want to go back to Carequarters?"

Bee was silent, his gaze was focused somewhere on the floor. Optimus thought it was another answerless question but then the bitlet spoke up. "...Everyone hates me there."

"Really?" Bee nodded, "Surely there is someone who likes you, isn't there?" Optimus found it hard to belive that everyone in the entire Carequarters would dislike a Sparkling like Bee.

"Nu-uh. No one..." Bee shook his head before continuing. "Other kids bully me all the time. The staff isn't better either... but the boss is the worst. She makes me do all the chores and locks me in storage if I do something she doesn't like."

"Living on the streets is better than this." Optimus couldn't believe this was true... yet, what things some of the professional work sectors he was in allowed.... he could see this and worse happening in spaces that were supposed to be safe for Sparklings.

Optimus finished patching up Bee and gave him some warm fuel. It was late and Bee was tired. Optimus took him to berth and tucked him in. "Could I stay here for a while?" He sleepily asked, recharge clawing at him.

"Yes, Bumblebee. Stay as long as you want." Optimus said quietly while rubbing the Sparkling's back, coaxing him to get the much needed recharge.

Bee hummed... "Then... can I stay forever?" As much as he tried to stay up a little while longer, the tiredness claimed him. Optimus' Spark fluttered at the request. He knew the little Sparkling captured his Spark the moment he saw him in the alley, he couldn't help but whisper "Yes, bitty... This is your new home.".

When he was sure Bee was fast in recharge he went to his work-dedicated room and looked up the Carequarters Bee was kept in. Despite the somewhat good reviews he used every resource and privillage he still had and send mass-reports to the Sparkling Protection Services.

It had worked very well because just 2 cycles from when he send reports, the facility was mass-changing staff. Now there was one thing left to do...

Bee and Optimus were sitting in the guest room on the couch, the news played on the big screen but Optimus wasn't listening. His attention was on the little Sparkling sitting in his lap and playing with the new puzzle toy.

"Hey Bumblebee?" Optimus spoke up, getting the bitlet's attention. "Were you ever adopted?"

That question seemed to catch Bee off-guard, he was quiet for a bit before he shook his helm sadly. "Uh-uh.."

"Would you like to be?" Little Sparkling looked up at Optimus with wide optics, almost as if it was the first time he ever heard that being said to him... probably it was. "I could be your Sire if you want to."

"...You would?" Bee sounded unsure, as if he didn't really believe what was being said to him. Optimus' smile only grew warmer. "I would be honored to."

Bee stared at him for the longest time before tears appeared in his optics, he rubbed them out. "...Yeah. I want that." Bee said and snuggled into Optimus' hug.

Optimus had to call the Carequarters to report the missing Sparkling found and that he wanted to adopt him. Of course, the new manager was very kind and relieved that the lost bitty was safe and sound and found a new family. Bee was sceptical to the idea of going to the Carequarters but Optimus assured him a thousand times over that this will be the last time he'll ever be in that place and that from then on they'll be a happy family. So they drove down to the facility, Bee held onto Optimus as they walked to the office with the new manager. Optimus signed the adoption form and Bee left the little servo print in the right place as his signature since he didn't know how to write yet- a permission for Optimus to adopt him and take him. After getting Bee's documents they left back home. Bee's new, permanent home.

After Optimus put Bee to recharge he called his good friend Ratchet. "Ah yeah, it would be about time you take that stray Sparkling you've been tellin' me about for a check-up." "Not stray anymore... I adopted him." Ratchet could hear Optimus' smile over the audio-call. "Well, congrats then! I have a free window tomorrow so you can bring him in then." Ratchet had a tight schedule so it was hard to get a place for a fixing with Cybertron's most skilled mechanic/physical medic. For his friends however he always found a spot out of the waiting line.

So Optimus was scheduled to bring Bee for an appointment the next cycle, and it would have been fine.... If it wasn't for Sentinel who finally decided to speak to Optimus again since the demotion. He showed up at his door few joors before the appointment for some files and didn't listen when Optimus told him to wait by the door while he gets them. He, as usual, invited himself into the guest room to crash on the couch and chat but instead saw Bumblebee playing with toys. "Why is your chin so big?" Bee's comment broke the awkward stare down between the two.

"I got those files you wanted-" Optimus came into the room after seeing the door he left slightly ajar were full-open. Sentinel shot a look at Optimus. "You need to explain yourself."

Bee was left to play with his toys while the two talked by the door. "You didn't tell me you were... you know." Sentinel whispered accusedly, making Optimus confused for a bit before realizing. "What? No, I wasn't!"

"Then where did he-" "I... found him out on the streets." Optimus explained. "I took him in and now he's my Sparkling."

Sentinel was quiet, it was odd... "He looks like-" "I know. It's... incredible how similar they look."

Optimus managed to get Sentinel out so they could prepare for a visit to Ratchet. Bee was unsure of the medbay but Optimus assured him Ratchet is there to help. Ratchet did some scans and suddenly it became a full-on system check, the results he got back were not pleasing him and Optimus noticed the worried scowl as he looked at the scans. Optimus tried not to be stressed when Ratchet asked him to speak outside the room for a bit and Bee was left fiddling with the fidget toys.

It turned out Bee was defective. There was several wiring mishaps and system programming errors. The malnutrition and mistreatment of wounds from the time he was in Carequarters and streets took a toll on his frame and hindered his development, meaning that he won't grow very big and most likely end up a minibot.

"I understand... and I'll do anything to help him." Optimus was ready to do all he could to make sure Bee will be alright. "I'll give you contact to other professionalists that'll help you, unfortunately I can't do much here."

Bee, of course, was curious enough to jump off the med table and eavesdrop the conversation, he climbed back up just in time for the two to enter the room again. It became apparent that he did that when they came back home and Bee asked "Why am I broken?". Optimus told him it was okay and that sometimes things happen whether we want it or not.

Outside of physical defects, Bumblebee had a glitch that nearly removed his emotions. It would explain why the yellow bitty was so apathetic and always had that unclear expression with big optics, it really only changed when he was tired or hurt. Come to think of it, Optimus never heard him laugh either. They went to the doctor who was able to help with the system glitches, Bee was comforted by Optimus while he was being put under temporary stasis, Optimus was also there when he woke up after the procedure. "Weird..." Bee replied when Optimus asked how he felt. "It's okay. You'll get used to it." The doctor reassured, Bee was given praise for being so brave. The doctor told Optimus that glitches like that are bound to have some minor side effects even after patching but there shouldn't be much issues. If he did notice something happening, he do should come back.

After Optimus adopted Bee, he took a long parenting leave and started cleaning up the room used as storage. Soon, it became Bee's own room so he didn't have to sleep in Optimus' berth with him. Bee had everything a little Sparkling would need growing up, Optimus noticed he liked the fidget toys so he got him a bunch of those. He also got to experience Bee's curiosity for tinkering when he somehow snatched a clock off the wall, took it apart and tried to put it back together...

Few cycles after the procedure Bee was still getting used to feeling new things. His only senses were knowing if something's right or wrong, safe or unsafe. Now there was a whole lot of new things, it felt like he was thrown into liquid without the ability to float. Optimus was there for him every step of the way, he explained what each emotion meant whenever Bee asked. Bee found it weird to laugh, things that would make him slightly uncomfortable in the past now made him burst into giggles. He also found it very annoying that things that he counted as 'unsafe' now got a whole lot extra 'unsafe' points on the scale. The new level of 'unsafe' that made him scream and even cry. One lunar cycle Bee woke up in a panic- the crying woke up Optimus who rushed to checked on Bee and found him terrified in his own berth. Bee couldn't say anything, he only sobbed while Optimus held him close and comforted him. Why did this horrible thing only happened now?

Bee never had nightmares. When he was in Carequarters he would go to recharge much later than the rest of the Sparklings so he always passed out on his berth only to get energy for the next cycle. While living on the streets he couldn't recharge too much because everything was out to get him; wirerats, gangsters, other homeless bots. He was always on guard and made sure the spot he was resting in was safe first. Now that he didn't have to worry about surviving, that he knew what safety and comfort felt like... the terror could truly set in.

It took a while before Optimus got Bee to calm down. Bee refused to recharge on his own, he was far too scared and still learning how to cope with emotions. Optimus took him to his room and let him cuddle up on his chassis. He hummed him a lullaby to soothe him, he glanced down and found his little bitty sleepily looking up at him. "Don't worry Bumblebee, everything is okay now."

Little Bee smiled at him and snuggled close. Before recharge fully claimed him again, Optimus heard him whisper "...thank you, Sire..". Warmth pulsed thru him, that was the first time Bee called him 'Sire'. Optimus could not have been happier. After that, Bee was using the word 'Sire' more often instead of 'Opi' that he sometimes called Optimus.

Along with the documents from the Carequarters, Optimus got Bee's forging date so they could celebrate his Creationday. Bee was very confused when his Sire made so much sweets and got him so much gifts for that one cycle he never heard of- that apparently was all about him! After celebrating and eating the very tasty cake Optimus took him for a ride into the park a little further away from the city. Turns out, it wasn't much of a surprise like Optimus wanted it to be cuz Bee has already been to that park twice- it was a really long walk but he did it. Bee still enjoyed being there, it was so different from the dark smoggy alleys or shiny tall buildings. Optimus was having fun at first, it did change however when Bee asked if he wanted to see something cool and led him to some spot with a hole in the rocks. He disappeared for a bit and pulled out a masked crate filled with contraband from said hole. Apparently, some local thugs were using this spot as a stash and a tiny little Sparkling saw them put the goods in there and busted them just now. Bee never knew why Optimus was not happy with that, they found treasure!

Aaaaand that's it for this one. Sheesh, it's long. Hope you liked the new, remade version of Optimus being Bee's dad as well as the tragic backstory of Bee being put to use. Stay tuned cuz more of that coming soon.

#maccadam #tfa #tfa bumblebee #tfa optimus prime #long post #dadimus prime au #tfa au

[crying-fantasies]

From afar

When it starts Sunstreaker is the very first one to notice, how come? It was really obvious, it could've been an insult to his own existence if he didn't notice the way Sideswipe looks at you or how he tries to take on your interest in every chance he can get, even creating his own opportunities to show off to you while taking your things way above your reach, "for Primus' sake, 'Sides, it's obvious it was you", still, his twin places a digit to his closed intake, telling him to shut up, the nerve, while he expectantly looks out for you to appear in search of any trash he got from you.

Sideswipe is way too attached to you, bordering in a way that has discomfort and disgust creeping up Sunstreaker's back strut when his twin's optics can only center on you, who as expected, come around to ask for your things, feeling physical pain when Sideswipe gets on your level and offer up his help with extended servos, prompting you to jump on with a nervous smile.

Sunstreaker should've stopped this even before it started, he tells himself so many times, giving out a sound that can be compared to a chainsaw when your little pede, feet, almost made contact with his brother's servo, making you return to your place in fear of what he can do to you while Sideswipe looks at him, a question forming on his processor quickly developing into desperation, you'll ask Ironhide for help is what you say, humans can't run fast enough to outrun a cybertronian, even less a speedster, but with Sideswipe position you make a run for your integrity when Sunstreaker can only show such aggressive demeanor in your direction.

"Wait, wait, I know where it is! I can help! Is the game night still up for tomorrow?" His brother is still shouting in the direction of your escape, a servo still reaching out to you and Sunstreaker can't take it, hitting his brother away and taking your things out of where you could never get it back to throw it out of the shared habsuit, a disgusted expression on his faceplate at the mere idea of your dying cells on everything you touch, Sides is shouting saying that those books are important to you, trying to get the things back but Sunny is way faster to close the door, disconnecting his audial receptors and cleaning his digits with a rag in a nervous manner, Sides tries to get physical but one hard glance is enough to make him stop and start to whimper on his side of the habsuit.

Sunstreaker feels that he really should've stopped whatever is happening when he still had the change to break his brother's spark on the bare minimum.

"You look like a lovesick sparkling" Sunstreaker told him then, Sideswipe was trying to look at the group of humans, Sideswipe was curious of how humans looked like cybertronians.

"Oh, shut your trap, it doesn't bug you even a little?" He said, optics more concentrated when you looked at him, Sideswipe waved hello to you and you did a strange thing with two little digits, fingers, the other humans laughed at you, Sunstreaker should've noticed how he changed the subject so fast, "the only difference is the flesh and the fluids and whatever they've inside"

"Gross, don't even think of entering the habsuit if you touch one" He should've realized, but it was a silly idea at the moment.

Some bots laughed at Sideswipe's expenses when they catched him waving hello to you in more than one occasion and most stopped him when he scoped you up and got you shouting in fear, "It's okay, it's okay, ya boy Sides' ain't going to drop you" he calmed you, as far as he could when he really almost dropped you, Ratchet had his aft for it and Sunstreaker laughed at his brother not before making him shower in cleansing oil two times, just to be sure.

The worst of this little infatuation? You didn't stop Sideswipe, what's more, you were almost encouraging him, nothing was going as deep as the moment when he was with his brother, planning their next joke of the day and, out of nowhere, they heard a soft "Sideswipe?", they weren't sure if they imagined it before looking at you coming from a corner, "I need help with something, if it's possible?" your response was vague, but still got Sides' going your way excitedly, leaving Sunstreaker behind, "You got it!".

You looked at Sunstreaker, if only for a moment before Sideswipe took you on his servos while saying "careful, careful" in order to prevent an accident with his great strength, you returned your strange organic eyes again at him and said a weak "Sunstreaker" almost as a greeting and a nod of your head to which he ignored you, "Don't mind ol' grumpy Sunny, now tell, how can I help you?"

He really should've stopped everything when his brother started to go to you, or, even worse, when he started to took your things away to then help you search for those, initially he thought that it was a joke, and that was good with the world, but then Sideswipe got the extra mile and started to put them in places you would never reach alone, always taking things related to what you called "school", making your search more frantic and ready to jump at any opportunity you had to the helping servos of your friendly bot, taking you in his servos and arms like you were something precious and smiling when you said "got it!" with a smile on your face, telling him that your teacher would've killed you if you lost whatever the hell you got in your little and dirty hands, "as if I would let it happen" maybe to you it was a promise from friend to friend, but Sunstreaker felt that urge of protection ignite from his spark too.

Things were getting out of hand, and no one was saying anything about it.

And when he saw Sideswipe return from outside when a silly smile from town Sunstreaker had a very bad feeling, one that wasn't in tune with the unusual warmth coming from his spark, "Sides', what's that?" Sideswipe tried to shield it from him, saying "Nothing you should worry about, Sunny" before being shoved to the side and letting Sunstreaker see, with horror, what his brother tried to keep away from him.

It was a little metal trinket, he saw one of these before, right, you sometimes used one of these things on you, he has seen Sideswipe take some.

But this one was new, he could tell, there was no lingering smell of human on it, only Sides', and he could detect the vague traces of his brother's EM field on it, dents that were made by clumsy and strong digits.

And Sunstreaker saw red.

"No, no, Sunny, please wait!" Too late, the little trinket was now in pieces that Sideswipe tried to collect on his servos, a fruitless attempt since it was beyond any repair, "what's your fragging problem?!" Sideswipe was hurt, he could see it, he could feel it, he was hurting too.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sunstreaker asked back and Sideswipe looked at the floor of the shared habsuit, "acting like a stupid sparkling, making a courting gift, are you out of your mind?!"

"It's just a gift, friends get gifts to one another all the time!" It was a just a statement and it was true, friends give gifts, it's true, but what his brother wanted with you wasn't something friends did.

And then, he remembers, how a week ago in the night his spark burned so hard he thought he was going to die, how Sideswipe acted strange from that day and how he was nowhere to be seen from time to time, Sunstreaker realized that same night was the one you called game night.

Everything connected now.

Sideswipe could only look how his brother started to search for something, asking to himself if he got to hide more things inside the habsuit, but he didn't take nothing since yesterday, when he realized what was happening it was too late, Sunstreaker finally had the little red paper crane you gave him on his servos.

"Sunny, wait, please"

"This is garbage, I don't even think this is something worth scrap"

Sideswipe expression changed, looking normal, almost bored, "Well, yeah, it's garbage, but it's cute you know? so I really want to keep it, to decorate"

In other instances Sunstreaker could've heard his brother, this was nothing, just a little and silly human thing done with fibers of a dead tree and cheep paint, maybe it was nothing more than a detail from your side, but he could tell this was important for Sideswipe in a way that was just so wrong.

"The human gave you this" it wasn't even a question while his digits took the little paper to show his brother, he saw the change on his body, his EM field vibrate when he saw such a pathetic thing close to be damaged.

"It's nothing, really" he keep on saying, but Sunstreaker knew better.

This paper thing? The metal trinket? He wasn't a fool, and he saw you just yesterday, in the edge of recharge while reading what you called a book, you may be an intellectual, an erudite in training like some of the older bots said, he and his brother were warriors, you were a foolish human that didn't know scrap of cybertronian culture, you didn't even know cybertronians could upgrade a few days ago! You weren't even aware or even realizing how Sideswipe took your gift to another level, and yet you got his poor, stupid brother to this state, wiped enough to believe you gave him the act of profference, Sunstreaker knew things were messy but he wasn't exactly sure when this mess started to escalate so quickly, you didn't act like a conjunx candidate, you saw and treated Sideswipe like an allie, a friend, since when has this going on, how come that he didn't notice?

Kaon wasn't a place for most, he knew about the lack of warmth, their own upbringing was cold and hard, enough so to have his brother wiped by your delicate way with words and actions, a human like you, an organic, could never survive in the place that made them who they were.

"Sunstreaker"

That got him out of his mind, Sideswipe tone has never been so hard before, so cold, a warning in every sense of the word, and he can see his desperation now laced with anger at the way he is holding the folded paper.

"You say this is nothing" he left the paper fall in Sideswipe servos, who took it with relief, "do I need to remind you that if you do this foolish thing, you are also dragging me down with you?"

"It's ain't so bad" he is looking at the paper crane with loving optics, holding it like it's something precious, like he is seeing you, and that's enough for Sunstreaker to make him move out and let his lovesick brother behind, trying to fix the folded paper.

He is looking for you and when he finds you he has to make a double take, you look terrible, so tired and stressed, moving hair out of your face and he knows the little trinket was for that, Sideswipe has always been worried about you and your need to learn for something called "mid term exams" to the point you don't care about your well being, he and Sideswipe are spark brothers, they share the same spark, and he can feel what his stupid brother feels when you fall asleep on his side or when he wants to spend more time with you and so on.

He feels like you are way more important than anything else and he hates it, hates when you are near and try to talk to him, giving him glances and how he has to stop himself from preening, show off his shining armor to you, make you realize he is the most beautiful mech you'll ever see in your life, he hates that you look so bad and still trying to keep going when all he wants is to destroy those books and machines that are eating your soul away, still, he looks at you and you don't even notice him, he wants to yell at you, call you names and everything as long as you've your strange organic alien eyes on him and not on those stupid things you say are important for your future.

He wants to laugh on your face.

Can those exams that you say are oh so important save your life in dire times? Can those books provide for you or protect you? Can that stupid and archaic computer be more important than he and his brother?

The answer is no, but he'll never tell you any of that because he has a pride he wants to maintain, maybe Sideswipe is okay with this but Sunstreaker will never take a human conjunx because one, you'll die by time itself and they can't do anything about it, two, you're freaky in every sense of the word by your organic nature and three, because he says so.

Sunstreaker calls out to you, startling you, concentration lost and making you drop one of those stupid books, your designation, your name, feels strange on his glossa, he could have called you "human" but the damage to his spark has already been done by his foolish brother, there is no way back.

But there is a way to stop it from getting worse.

"Ah, it's you" you're looking around and he has to stop the anger rising from the way you refer to him, maybe you're searching for Sideswipe or any other bot because is a very know fact in the ark that Sunstreaker doesn't like humans, "how can I help you?"

You? Help him? That's funny, he has been having these stupid ideas of how you can help him since the moment you first offered, using your little hands to get to the most difficult places on his armor is tempting or have you sing him praises, but this is more important.

Sideswipe is going to get hurt, his own spark is going to get hurt, but that's way more acceptable than having their spark crushed, damaged beyond repair by grief if you get to die, because you'll die, or simply go on with your life, just like humans always do.

"Sides' told me about this people on your education facility" it's low, way lower than he ever thought he could get, but he gets you where he wants you, looking mortified when you realize what he is talking about.

Maybe you thought you and Sideswipe were alone when you confessed to him about the people making your life a problem, but he was there and he could feel the way his spark warmed at the idea of you sharing something so intimate that you haven't even told your mentors, your parents, while being filled by rage when Sideswipe noticed the purple coloration on your skin.

Sunstreaker wasn't taking it as well as his brother, but that's how life is, if you're weak others will get you.

He tried so hard to keep down the voice in his processor, telling him to be the one to protect your whole existence.

"And to be sincere, I get what they do, I kind of dig it, if you're as weak as an insect then is obvious someone has to put you in your place" it's a lie, a terrible lie, if he could those scum of humanity would've been erased from the face of this planet by yesterday, but using them now and your rage and fear is more than enough, "Sides' thinks the same, weak erudites can't really survive out there"

Did he go too far? Maybe, but it was done, and you collect your things in a hurry while your little face is getting wet with that strange lubricant from your eyes, there's fire in them but you don't say a word, maybe out of fear, you've always been scared of his mere presence.

Sunstreaker wants to think it is a nuisance more than a pain in his spark when you really get out of the ark.

Sideswipe'll be angry for a while, but he can't hate him forever, they are brothers.

It's better to keep his brother and not risk themselves by a mere human.

.

This is in tune with the other works, IDW/G1 mess I'm making, and boy, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are really different sides of the same coin, we'll see what happens next with the headmasters arc and Sideswipe's reaction to the mess Sunny did, being cockblocked by your own brother, something in the everyday life.

#reader insert #x reader #angst #tf mtmte #transformers x reader #transformers #transformers idw #idw transformers #idw sideswipe #idw sunstreaker #tf sideswipe #tf sunstreaker #mtmte imagines #mtmte x reader #sideswipe #sunstreaker

[mychlapci]

Alright it’s time to get freaky about Sentinel.

I want to make him my wife. He’s the absolute worst and a total aft, but just imagine. Bending him until he breaks. Training him until he’s an obedient little slut.

It starts off with him pushing back and scoffing at every attempt to correct his bad behavior, but then you offer the right rewards… He wants power, so you promise to give it to him. If he behaves, if he just indulges you a little bit, he’ll be praised for it and can have his fun dominating you in return.

But first he’s gotta get on his knees for you. He tries to look smug, claiming this isn’t gonna be a regular thing. But he’s lying to himself. He doesn’t even realize when it’s shifted from him submitting so he can get rewarded to now submitting because that is his reward.

By the time his himbo processor has caught up to him, he’s already halfway trained. Responses to certain phrases are practically automatic and he finds himself getting distracted by the thought of pleasing you just to get a taste of praise.

Eventually he’s the perfect housewife. He doesn’t go out anymore because he’s gotta get all the housework done by the time you’re home or he won’t get any attention, and he couldn’t stand that.

When you do return, he’s already waiting, eager to assist in whatever way you request. Imagine him trying extra hard to please you and as a reward you bring home another mech for him. Someone bigger and stronger who will absolutely ruin his valve.

You don’t have to tell him twice. Soon he’s on his hands and knees being fucked hard and fast, whining and moaning around the massive spike filling him. He looks pathetic, and you make sure he knows it before stealing some wet kisses as he moans into your mouth.

You get to sit back and relax, doing whatever you feel like and admiring his incoherent babbling. Sure fucking him is fun, and you could fuck him in a mirror to see his reactions. But there’s just something about making him put on a show like this that satisfies a lust for control.

To think he was once a power hungry jerk who rarely took you seriously. Now he’s getting fragged into oblivion, begging to be bred so he can be the perfect wife for you, working around the house barefoot and pregnant.

Now that would be a pretty picture.

hoooly shit. yes. we need to make sentinel undergo some wifeication. i can fix him (<- make the perfect little housewife out of him)

At first it’s a game that he’s convinced he has the upper hand in. He gets on his knees, plays semi-nice, thinks about how he’s going to make you pay him back for the vile things you’re doing to his spike and valve… 

By the time he realizes the footing is never going to switch, it’s far too late. Every time you come home, Sentinel already has his hands on the counter and his hips popping out, obediently waiting for your spike. Far enough into his training he knows better than to complain about you taking your time, so he bites his tongue, though you could argue that his clicking the latch on his locked panels desperately can be counted as Sentinel being pushy. Sometimes you fuck him, sometimes you just make him suck you off. At first he’d ignore it, lying to himself how he doesn’t need to feel a spike in his valve everyday. Then later he’d get angry and bitchy about it, but that behaviour could cost up to a month without a spike in his valve, so he just obediently sucks, a hint of resentment in his eyes, and he hopes that next day you’ll give him what he needs…

When he’s being a very good wife he gets a toy in his valve while you’re gone, but he’s not allowed to play with himself, because you know otherwise he’d forget his chores, and by telling him that you basically ensure he never does play with himself. Because Sentinel is not some slut who can’t handle a few hours without having his valve fucked, he’s not. (the sopping wet mess his valve turns into when you come home begs to differ…)

mhmmm Bringing in a bigger mech to fuck him. Sentinel with his hips in the air and head pushed to the floor, and he doesn’t even have to be told to keep his mouth shut and take it. You remind the guy to not finish inside, not even when Sentinel starts begging for it. That’s going to be your job, once he’s thoroughly fucked out and covered in a stranger’s transfluid, you fuck him, finish inside, and make him thank you for it. All of his previous smugness, all his goading and dickish remarks are now fucked out of him, and he shakily thanks you without even thinking about it, giving no struggle.

Sentinel growing a pretty little baby-bump over time, and now he absolutely cannot go outside, not looking like this, but that’s not a problem for you. Or him, for that matter. He enjoys having his pregnant belly propped up on the kitchen counter while getting fucked, loves having it rubbed from behind, loves putting a hand on the underside to hold it up when it gets too heavy. You come home everyday to a clean house and a pregnant wife <3

#i had a really crazy sex dream last night and i’m convinced it was this ask trying to project itself into my mind while i was sleeping #valveplug #pregnancy mention #hi everyone come be normal about tfa sentinel with me

[sinspark4]

Roddy's Ghost Adventures

The Rake: This is the first video Rewind stumbled across after finding something called "The Dark Web" when searching for media for his crew mates. The video is distorted, corrupted, everything inside it is hard to make out or understand. All Rewind can gather from the feed is the panicked screaming of a human and glowing, yellow eyes. He does his best to clean up some of the feed but there are strange viruses lurking in the coding Rewind doesn't want to get anywhere near. He thinks he sees a forest, a house in the background, and a sign reading "Warren Park Trail, Montana." Then the video just ends. Abruptly. He took a moment to contemplate the recording before reading the caption.

Locals spoke of a creature known as "The Rake," a nightmarish being with sunken eyes, elongated limbs, and razor-sharp claws.

Legend had it that "The Rake" was once human, transformed by dark experiments or supernatural forces. Its first recorded appearance was in the late 1800s when it stared hauntingly at a family before vanishing into the night.

As years passed, more encounters were reported, each describing the creature's ability to appear and disappear, leaving behind an aura of dread. Witnesses spoke of its featureless face and guttural noises, claiming that even a brief encounter could plunge a person into madness.

Rewind snickered. This was ridiculous. They'd been on and off earth enough times they would have known if there were any humanoids outside of humanity by now. Some sparkling humans must have just gotten bored.

He ignores the twinge of discomfort ringing in the back of his processor and shuts his vocalizer off just in time to stifle the high-pitched yelp clawing up his intake when a bright yellow hand lands on his shoulder.

"Hey Rewind, whatcha got there?" Rewind turns his helm to stare up at his captain. Slowly, a smile spreads his lips behind his facemark. Oh this.....this will be good.

Log 1

Bots along for the ride: Rewind, Rodimus, Drift

Location: Warren Park Trail, Montana

Subject of interest: Urban Legend - The Rake

Notable Mentions: The air here seems....heavier. Shadows seem to somewhat defy sources of light. Rodimus has taken it upon himself to "Flame up" so everyone can see where they place their pedes. Drift's headlights help but they don't seem to penetrate the strange blanket of darkness. Walking around tonight in search of this legend has proven fruitless. Perhaps this is the first he can strike off the list? He will have to wait till they were back on ship and he had a moment to himself before he can review the feed. He's going to have to do a lot of tweaking before the video is comprehensible.

Here is the rendered photo without the drawn on Video Cam.

This is the first installment of my new mini-series. I am so excited to finally post this, I've had the rendered photo done for a while now and was just waiting on myself to finish up the companion comics.

This literally was entirely inspired from solely two things.

1.) As I was sketching Roddy for practice, the song "Dumb Ways to Die" came up on my for you playlist on Spotify. This kinda put in a little seed of sorts.

2.) My brother is starting to get into art and we often go to the cafe together to practice. It's great being able to have a critique buddy right there as you're working together. On the day after scenario 1, him and I went to the cafe and I had been practicing landscapes. My intent had been to make a fairytale like environment. I showed him, we looked at each other, and both stated. "Yeah that's haunted." It's like a light bulb went off in my head. A very very insistent light bulb.

And thus, "Roddy's Ghost Adventures" has been born! Stay tuned for future installments~

#transformers #transformers fanart #ao3 #transformers fandom #maccadam #transformers memes #maccadams #rodimus #drift #rewind #transformers mtmte #transformers art #digital art #I may or may not also make one-shots for these drawings? Let me know if that interests you. #Some companion comics may be released randomly as interludes. #I whole-heartedly believe Rodimus is def a coward towards things that go bump in the night #Poor Drift. Always getting dragged into Rodimus' shit. #Sin's mini-series: Roddy's Ghost Adventures #Sin’s TF Art

[imagine-darksiders]

I'm only using ao3 to read your On The Ropes fic and I was excited to read the new chapter, but it turns out ao3 got blocked in russia and now I can't even read the new chapter :c

Oh dear, well, not to worry! You can read it here :)

On the Ropes - Chapter 22 - Time's Up.

Montgomery Gator has never really given much thought to the slow crawl of time. The very concept of it hasn’t been of any more significance to him than the steady tick of numbers that always circle back to zero, one way or another, without fail.

Seconds roll on into minutes, and minutes into hours, day by monotonous day.

To an animatronic with such a sequestered existence, there exists only the time when the Megaplex is open, or the time that it isn’t. How could time seem ‘slow’ when the length of a second has never changed after all, remaining constant ever since humans first recorded its value?

Such inane questions wouldn’t have perplexed Monty at all before today.

Not until you went and unwittingly introduced the gator to the sluggish creep of the clock.

All of a sudden, the minutes between your disappearance and the show’s end seemed to drag on for an unbearably long time.

They only had one song left to perform, a fact that the other three Glamrocks bombarded him with when he began to send rapid glances over his shoulder struts at the backstage door behind them, gauging how smoothly he might be able to make a getaway.

‘Don’t even think about it, Gator,’ came Roxanne’s ferocious message, along with a rather violent pulse from her EM field that clashed with his own like a tidal wave of animosity, ‘Don’t you bug out on us now. Just finish this song, and then you can go track down your little girlfriend.’

Monty had to temporarily disable the subroutines that fed motion into the panels under his neck just to stop them from flaring and hissing in response to his bandmate’s jab. To an outside observer, the gator remained entirely focused on his performance.

Freddy’s nagging reassurances kept trying to press in at the back of Monty’s processor, but they, like Roxy’s goading, were easy enough to ignore in favour of pulling up the camera feed in his HUD. Only half of his processor was on his guitar, the other half was busy scouring the different feeds in search of his wayward cleaning lady.

It didn’t take him long to track you down.

With the show still blaring, most of the guests had already been gathered inside the main atrium to watch, leaving the rest of the Plex relatively devoid of crowds for you to get lost in. Besides, you were the only human he could see who was limping out of the lobby elevator with a pair of crutches. The relief that cooled his warring protocols was short lived when he realised you were heading towards a familiar, bright red set of doors.

He should have known…

He should have known you’d try and make your way there just as soon as his back was turned.

The song finished, the crowd went wild, Freddy gave his usual company mandated spiel about the merchandise available at the gift shops, and at last, at long, long last, Monty could go after you.

The main stage had moved at a glacial pace as it sank down into the basement, and he’d hardly even waited for it to touch down before he all but thrust his guitar into the arms of a bewildered Freddy and took off, mapping a path to the day care like a homing missile.

He’d been more than prepared to give you a piece of his mind when he inevitably caught up to you.

Now however, standing before you in the day care proper, any and all frustration he might have harboured for your vanishing act is promptly swept aside by a wave of alarm that comes crashing down on top of him the moment his optics land upon your face.

The scene runs across his processor, like a terrible feedback loop.

You’re on the floor of the day care, the ground, laying pinned and prone underneath the frame of a malformed figure of terrifying, twisted proportions.

Each and every one of the gator’s pistons lock into place, his tail falling still and straight behind him.

In the span of a second, two things occur to him.

The first – that there’s an unfamiliar animatronic pinning you to the floor.

And secondly – The last time an unfamiliar animatronic got its hands on you, you’d barely escaped with your life….

A scorching rage trickles down the inside of Monty’s metallic frame, spreading along his wires as his coolant turns to liquid fire.

He’d already been on edge, seeing you missing in the audience. Even before that, he’d spent most of the early morning fretting over whether or not he’d ever see you again.

It only takes the slightest push to send him hurtling off the deep end.

He isn’t about to waste any time making threats.

The hydraulics in Monty’s legs unlock with a ‘shunk,’ and without warning, he explodes forwards, jaws tumbling open to show off rows of newly-restored, monstrous teeth.

Trapped beneath Eclipse, you viscerally jerk when the gator makes his move, and at last, the bot crowding over you springs into action.

Like a coiled snake, they brace their weight on two sets of arms and pounce forwards to meet their adversary head on, spitting static with all the venomous fervour of a cobra.

“YOU!” they screech.

There’s a hideous crunch of metal and plastic as the two of them make impact, rocking the floor around you under the force of two titans meeting at the centre of a colourful battlefield.

Raking claws aim a swipe at Monty, who manages to capture two of the spindly wrists in his far larger hands and holds them at bay, bellowing, “DID YOU TOUCH HER? HUH!? YOU HURT HER?”

Equally incensed, the attendant’s rays flare and rattle, kicking out a poisonous, orange light. “RULE-BREAKER! FRIEND-BREAKER!” they howl, “GET OUT! GET! OUT!”

Left half-forgotten on the soft mats, you blurt out a frantic, “Stop!” and push yourself up onto shaking arms and knocking knees, fumbling blindly for the crutches that had fallen to either side of you when you fell.

Not again. Not again! Monty has only just been repaired. You can’t let them duke it out now, not over a simple misunderstanding.

You have to stop them.

“Hey! Cut it out!” you holler, coughing as the words scratch at the back of your throat, “Guys! Stop it! Please!”

But every word only falls on deaf audials.

Eclipse has an extra set of hands and immense height in his arsenal, but Montgomery has a working jaw and a hell of a lot more mass.

The attendant’s third appendage makes the error of aiming another strike at the gator’s face, but it becomes abundantly clear that they never expected a cumbersome bot like Monty to react with such terrifying speed.

To your horror, the Glamrock avoids their swipe by jerking his snout to the side, only to whip his head back in a flash and snap his teeth closed around Eclipse’s wrist just as it comes within range.

“Monty! No!” you scream in distress, foregoing your search for the crutches in favour of just shoving yourself up onto your feet, driven on by a panic-muddled mind that forgets how one of your legs is very much out of commission.

Braced against one another, the bots grapple for dominance, their hands locked together with one still caught between Monty’s bear-trap teeth. Yet it’s with a swell of alarm that you notice Eclipse’s fourth and final hand creeping up towards the seam between the gator’s chest and his neck, only newly repaired, like the attendant can sense it’s a weak spot.

The harrowing sight is too damn familiar, evoking the gruesome memory of an endo’s spiny fingers twisting through metal and plastic to crush the gator’s voice box to pieces.

Desperation to keep them from tearing each other apart drives you forwards into a stumble. The violence is all too familiar, and you’ve seen enough to last you several lifetimes.

“Enough-!” you try to belt out, but as your fractured ankle bears the full weight of your body, a broken cry is ripped out of your lungs, engulfing the day care centre with the sound of a tremendous, ear-splitting scream.

The fresh agony is almost worse than the initial pain of the overgrown Glamrock landing on your leg.

Every nerve howls as a needling twinge shoots up the back of your calf like a bullet, burrowing through flesh, all the way up to your hip where it jars you to an absolute standstill.

It’s too late to wrench your foot off the ground. The damage is already done, but regardless, the limb spasms back in a vain attempt to escape the pain, and without the support of your crutches, you’re sent toppling forwards to the floor. An entirely different pain splits your mouth in two when your chin hits the mat and you bite your tongue, choking out a wordless sound at the additional dose of agony.

Writhing, you try to blink back the sudden mist of gathering tears, hardly paying any attention to the animatronics towering above you. You’re a little preoccupied with holding onto the hospital breakfast that churns threateningly in your stomach.

As a result, you miss the moment both warring bots have their focus ripped violently away from one another.

Your piercing cry alone is more than enough to wrangle Eclipse’s care-taking protocols to the forefront of their processor, whilst in perfect tandem, Monty is yanked from his murderous frenzy, recognising the sudden vocalisation of your pain.

The gator’s jaws go slack at once, releasing the attendant’s wrist as the two of them swivel their optics down towards you, all the fight draining from their systems once they register you trembling on the ground nearby.

“Y/n!”

“Friend!”

In a rush of scraping plastic, they shove away from each other, disentangling their limbs and scrambling to your sides, united in one, overpowering priority.

“Hey, Lady! Y’okay?!” Monty barks, reaching out to lay his hands on your back.

However, the moment his fingers alight on your flimsy shirt to roll you over, his limbs are suddenly snatched away by two of Eclipse’s and held aloft.

“Don’t TOUCH!” the angular bot seethes.

Indignant, Monty’s lips curl back, and he raises his snout to issue a throaty growl at the attendant.

It only takes a single word to silence the rumble before it can even leave his speakers.

“Stop,” you hurl out weakly onto the mat below you, redoubling your efforts to raise your head and sending an imploring gaze in Monty’s direction, “Stop fighting, both of you!”

“But! But it-!”

“Monty, if you hurt my friends, I swear to god, I’ll never speak to you again, do you understand me?”

That threat, it seems, is as effective as a bullet striking the gator through his chassis. All at once, his sizeable jaws snap shut to hide his teeth as best he can, and he ducks his head, peering at you over the rim of his sunglasses like a kicked dog.

You deign to feel guilty about that particular expression later. Right now, you still have to appease Eclipse, whose crushing hands are still locked around Montgomery’s wrists.

“And Eclipse,” you say sternly, craning your head around to meet their flickering stare, “Let him go.”

The static-laden hiss that escapes their voice box precedes what you already know is going to be a word of protest.

Sure enough, Eclipse’s voice is low and thin, borrowing from Moon’s typical cadence as their fingers clamp down viciously until Monty’s cuffs begin to creak in dismay. “The gator…. broke you,” they slowly rasp.

In response, you subject the animatronic to a glare so hot, it could melt the plastic right off their faceplate. They’ve never seen you wear an expression quite like that before.

“Don’t you dare blame Monty for what happened to me. This-!” You lift a hand off the ground and wave it in the vague direction of your leg. “- This was an accident. Monty almost got himself scrapped by protecting me, so I won’t hear you say another cross word against him, okay?”

They may have several feet of height on you and more than enough power to simply toss you clear over the day care wall, but in the face of your unparalleled disapproval, Eclipse’s rays sink back despondently against their head, and they try to make themselves look smaller, cowed by your admonishing glare.

Reluctantly, with a final whine of static, their hands pry themselves from the gator’s wrists and sink down to rest in their lap instead, fingers threading together as if they don’t quite know what to do with themselves.

In the meantime, Montgomery deems it safe enough to lift his nose again and peers down at you through a haze of awe, stunned that you’re so willing to jump to his defence.

Satisfied, you heave an immense sigh of relief and start to push yourself upright, privately grateful when six pairs of hands slide beneath your arms and help to ease you onto your unbroken foot once again. Monty doesn’t release you even when you nod at him to indicate that you’re steady. Neither does Eclipse, for that matter, who only removes their lower appendages and uses them to gather your crutches that lay scattered near haphazardly near their feet.

“Thanks, Eclipse,” you murmur, allowing the attendant to slip one of the crutches over your wrist before they move to gently guide your own fingers around the plastic handle.

“Eclipse?” comes Monty’s mechanical rumble, voice-box still a little rough from his earlier display of aggression.

You ignore his question for a moment. The twinge in your ankle has yet to completely recede, instead lingering beneath the surface of your skin just enough to keep half of your focus on the nasty ache throbbing down your leg. You let out a miserable grumble. Dr Timpson will likely murder you if you go back to the hospital and he finds any broken pins…

Doing your utmost to simply muscle through the pain, you let the attendant slide your remaining crutch into place, and at last, with a gentle shooing motion, you manage to coax them into removing their remaining limbs from your arm.

There’s still a noticeable pressure encasing your other forearm though. Turning to the gator, you find he’s still hovering on your opposite side, his claws pricking lightly at the cuff of your sleeve as if he can’t quite decide what to do with his hands.

Just as you draw in a breath to ask him what in the world he’s doing here, the gator’s jaw flops open and he gruffly asks, “You okay?”

As much as you’d like to tell him that you’re far from it, you decide it isn’t worth the worry it’ll cause, so instead, you let out a little puff of air and give your head a shake, feeling far wearier than you have in a long, long time.

“I… Yeah, sure,” you sigh, “I’m fine, big guy. Eclipse wasn’t going to hurt me.” To an extent, you can sympathise with the gator’s startlingly violent response to seeing you pinned beneath a strange animatronic so soon after yesterday’s events. It’s the very reason you refrain from continuing to admonish him for attacking the attendant on sight.

Speaking of whom…

Eclipse’s rays spin in a slow circle as they drop their head to sit level with yours, still glaring hard at the alligator on your right. “We don’t hurt friends,” they hiss.

Your pulse lurches when Monty’s claws twitch at your sleeve. “Eclipse, I mean it,” you scold them vaguely before shuffling back a step to put both animatronics in your sights and jerking your chin at the day care bot. “Monty, this is the attendant. It’s just Sun and Moon.”

The dubious stare he aims at them over his sunglasses confirms he’s just as ignorant of their transformation as you were.

“It’s true,” you answer his unspoken question, prompting a brief flicker of surprise to widen his optics, “I’m just calling them Eclipse for clarity’s sake. It’s some kind of… I don’t know, a failsafe, I guess. Sunny left the day care to find me last night and… well...” You flick your eyes back over to the attendant. “This was the result.”

It isn’t that Monty doesn’t believe you. You’re quite possibly the only human he’d trust, and Hell, he can see for himself the similarities between this newcomer and the attendants. It would also certainly explain why they seem so abhorred by the thought of him touching you. But just to be safe… The gator’s LED irises whir noisily as he conducts a cursory scan of the animatronic before him, and sure enough, there they are - Two signatures sharing a single CPU, one overlapping the other, fluctuating synchronically inside the newcomer’s frame.

The fixed smile that bears down at him only seems to twitch wider as his faceplates open up in recognition.

Within the span of a millisecond, Monty searches his databanks to try and pull up any information surrounding the attendants and this latest development. He’s only mildly surprised when his search turns up nothing… Either this was never meant to happen… Or Faz Co. are getting better and better at covering their practices…

Regardless, sated by the knowledge that you were never in any danger, the lingering traces of Montgomery’s temper evaporate, and, in their place, frustration moves to take centre stage.

It swells into a jagged, hot ball in his chest cavity, turning his attention onto you slowly.

A burning question sits at the tip of his silicone tongue, one that seems paramount, far more important to him than solving the mystery of why the attendant is currently looming at twice your height.

‘Why did you leave the show?’

Sadly however, the sudden approach of heavy footfalls from somewhere outside the day care sends his question hurtling to the back of his processor for the time being.

Quick as a flash, Monty’s snout whips around towards the doors with a growl, his gears whirring aggressively.

You’re startled by his sudden change in demeanour, but only for a second, at least until the entrance to the day care flies open and you follow the line of his glare, your heart sinking down and falling out through the soles of your feet when you catch sight of the two figures who skid to a halt just inside the wooden doors.

“You gotta be shittin’ me…”

Andy. Just the man you’d been hoping to avoid, if only to spare yourself from the highly disappointed glare he’s currently trapped you under.

At your side, Eclipse’s four hands twitch violently, their fingers clasping at the hem of your shirt as their profanity measures kick in.

“L-language,” you hear them bite out.

Beside the old mechanic, you’re surprised to find Freddy Fazbear himself with his iconic top hat clutched by wringing paws, a habit you’ve begun to notice more and more of late.

“Mister Flowers, please,” the bear sputters, his shuffling feet muted on the soft play mats, “I understand that you’re upset, but I’m sure Y/n is perfectly all right.”

Andy, however, seems deaf to the star’s fretting.

His face is awash with badly contained fury as he stalks towards you.

Gulping down a nervous lump, you ease yourself forwards, gently brushing Monty’s raised forearm aside as you move around him, dragging Eclipse along in your wake. Their spindly fingers remain hooked into the back of your shirt.

“Andy,” you utter weakly, opening and closing your mouth as you flounder for an explanation, “I-“

You swallow your words at once when the mechanic abruptly thrusts his hand into the air in a silent command for you to stop talking. Drawing himself up and pressing his lips into a thin, hard line, he comes to a stop directly in front of you, deliberately ignoring the gator and the attendant at your back.

Far more hesitant, Freddy edges uncertainly around to the simmering mechanic’s side and offers you a polite nod.

You manage to flash the bear what you hope is a reassuring smile before your attention snaps back to Andy as the man draws in a rattling breath. When he speaks, his voice is thick with tension. “Freddy’s not a liar,” he begins.

Admittedly confused, you flick a querying look in the bear’s direction, but Andy is quick to clarify.

“And yet,” he continues, “When he told me you were here, instead of being at home after your operation… Well, I thought to myself, there ain’t no way in Hell that bear’s tellin’ me the truth…”

Shame-faced, you remain sheepishly silent, aware that the animatronics’ optics are watching you with unwavering attention. Your hands flex restlessly around the handles of your crutches.

The prominent bags underneath Andy’s eyes lend him an altogether haggard look as he rakes his gaze over you from head to toe, letting out a sigh that might as well have been a punch to your fragile guts. “Imagine my disappointment when I checked the CCTV…” he finishes.

#fnaf #on the ropes #security breach #Montgomery Gator #Reader

[ourshadowstallerthanoursoul]

Trampled Under Foot - interview to JPJ

(by Jeff Molten, Exposé - Oct. 1, 2000 - link)

Very interesting interview as always. Definitely worth a read. Enjoy!

Your new album fits into the aggressive instrumental mode vein than most other new releases. How did you find players to do the album live?

[Elvis Costello drummer] Pete Thomas moved to Los Angeles and Trey Gunn had got King Crimson commitments so Robert Fripp suggested Nick Beggs, who used to play with Roddy Frame. He's a got a varied background. That's what I like about instruments like the touch guitar. Players who use is usually got to it by thinking differently than using traditional guitar. In fact, the stick is probably more suited to what I'm doing than the touch guitar because it really is a two in one instrument. So (live) I'm playing the basses, Nick is playing the guitar parts, which we will continue to change in the show. People seem to be blown away by the dexterity, since the reception has been tremendous!

Well, you definitely have the surprise element on your side. DGM is a good independent label, but radio airplay for new instrumental albums is difficult.

I do radio interview, and Zeppelin gets a lot of radio airplay, which is still amazing to this day. After the interview is over, I do ask them to see if they would play a track from my album. You have to be realistic: give them a few Zeppelin things and maybe they'll play a few 'Zooma' things. Having decided to do this, I wanted to avoid doing any coat tailing. The rhythm section is similar, but the works with John Bonham are similar, it couldn't be more different.

What's it like to lead your own ensemble?

It's nice for me, with different tours in the past you're not in control as to who is on the road with you to make it as pleasant as possible. It's a nice team now and we're all pulling together. In that respect, it's fantastic since it makes everything that much easier. Part of the plan is to get it right. There has been tons of press and lots of work doing the album, and getting the equipment together. But it all comes together on the stage.

Aren't there some built in challenges doing an all instrumental set and no vocal as a counterpoint?

Nobody seems to have missed it. I do all of the album, a couple of soundtrack pieces and four Zep pieces. No one seems to notice the lack of lead guitar. I play bass lap steel on a stand too. It's not so rare; it's like a lap steel guitar. It's a great blues instrument and I've got extra strings.

You're occupying a lot of the low register with these tunes. And radio is only now playing aggressive low-end music (like Primus).

I wanted it (the album) to sound of the time. Like it was made last year and not just something drug up from twenty years ago. All the weird sounds on the album are made by the Kima sound system. I came to a point about ten years ago when I was looking for a high-end computer system - there were a few DSP systems. Looking through computer music journal I found it- it's just a box of processors in a nineteen inch rack. It's got an iconic front end and I run it from a laptop. Unlike all the classic synthesizers, you can do anything with this software in real time. It waits for me. I program the entire show with triggers, when I'm ready so I don't play with clicks (tracks). There are couple of samples, which go into loops. It's still an experimental show though. I hope to use more and more.

To balance that you also have an acoustic live set:

It's mostly traditional music done on traditional instruments. I like to use technology too. When I was in Zeppelin, I used analog synthesizers like the VCS3, but we didn't tell anyone about it. I've always been interested in experimental music and music Concrete. We're skiing through the trees sometimes (in the live set) plus if something doesn't work it's over in a minute.

How did you whittle down which Zep tracks to do?

Well, 'When the Levee Breaks' was made for steel guitar. I actually tried it live when I was touring with Diamanda Galas.

As an arranger you have to wear a different hat, how did you take what you do on the album and apply it to the studio?

The impetus for this album WAS the live show. I was thinking about doing the album for a long time. If I do an album, I will have a reason to go out and play it since it's designed to be played live. I spread the basses wide in stereo and it's quite a big sound on stage. Between the two of us (Nick Beggs) we cover a lot of territory. He even does string parts on stage as well.

The disc does not come off heavy-handed.

I look at the full album as a composition, from a micro level to the macro level. I arrive at everything the same way. You have compositional questions to answers and you just have to answer them.

You don't just start from a rhythmic state and work up the tracks from there?

Normally I just start with a walk. The album started from the three heavier riffs. I had to work out what I play. I like to play blues based rock, I'm not a jazz based player and not an experimentalist. Having to work out three of the heavier riffs and walking helped to determine what I needed.

What inspires you?

Pretty much everything. Nature does, literature and other forms of music as well. It will just set me off in another direction. I like how that happens. Not a lick or someone else's song necessarily; often times I like the way someone else has answered their questions. Like when I wrote 'Black Dog'. There was a track on Muddy Waters album, 'Electric Mud'. "That's a really nice construction", I thought. In that way I was inspired by that, but 'Black Dog' sounds nothing like it.

Is it cathartic for you to write?

Not specifically, but I can play something to get out of a bad mood.

Besides touring around your new album, licensing on DGM is just the beginning of some plans going forward?

We're going to Europe, UK, Japan, then come back to the US and go down south. You can't go everywhere since we didn't know what to expect at all. People don't about you, you know until you get there. When we toured with Diamanda, people said they wish they'd gone. Your representation follows you, not precedes you. Then after that I want to make another album. I've already got more ideas from this album and tour.

Picking a label is tough situation — why not Atlantic Records?

They asked me tricky questions such as "Where is the single, where is the video?" In the old days we had Peter Grant to chase them all away. There's really not that much to understand business-wise - you either get paid for your albums or you don't. We didn't even have a contract with Peter Grant. It was done on trust. Obviously this works both ways. "What happens if you don't get paid?" Plus on DGM I like the policy of the artists owning their masters and license. They can still own their copyrights. There is nothing more soulless than losing the ownership of your work. It kills some artists (I won't mention any names) they can switch off for five years. It happens. The approach Fripp is taking is commendable. Plus DGM likes the album. And they are in touch with the Internet. He's the label leader, which is kind of funny.

How did you meet him? Having tea?

In a newspaper article in the lifestyle section "Our first meal" of the UK: They ask you what did you have to eat... I had some salmon last night. We did it for the engineer.

How did you manage to do some producing and arranging for REM?

They came to me - Scott Litt (producer/engineer) liked my stuff. I received a hand written a two-page hand written letter from Michael Stipe. Basically, I directed the sessions to ask if the musicians could come in about half way through. I came to Atlanta and used their symphony and had some good food. They paid my fair plus I enjoy getting paid and meeting interesting people.

You've worked with some developing artists such as Elephant Ride.

They were nice guys; I think they are disbanded now. Somebody re-mixed that album. And I told them that the voice is very delicate. If you lose the voice it will sound like some thin noise. I thought the singer had an interesting voice; please try to keep it clear. The label spent the whole of the budget on this remix. I thought, "Why am I doing this?" I thought we made a great record. I've remained friends with Paul Leary ever since. I put a lot of work into my productions. I beat them (the band) through pre-production. I told them "You're paying for this, not your record company, you're going to work? It was a sheer waste of time.

Budget nowadays goes to high profile artists.

Labels also decided the Buttlhole Surfers are strictly 250,000 unit act, that the band can sell up until that amount. Paul went out and bought their own promotion then they sold another 500,000. The company wasn't that interested. They would rather be working something, which make them multi-platinum. I'm happy not to be part of it. I know producers who are happy to just sit by the phone. I'm pleased with that, I'm notorious picky - you wouldn't believe who I've turned down.

Your work ethic is still intact from the early session days: ehen you were trying to get started, how did you decide you were going to be a session player?

I was in a major band when I was 17. In those days it was Duane Eddy, and surf bands. I got booked by a couple of people. I was a Motown cover artist. I was employed to make the artists sound American. Then I started to do arrangements and I connected with the Rolling Stones management. My father told me: never turn down work. That's how I got into it.

About how many sessions were you doing?

Two to three a day, six to seven days a week. All sorts of styles, country in the evening, swing from eight to nine; from nine to ten we'd do two commercials. Page got out earlier and joined the Yardbirds. I thought he was completely crazy. I couldn't spend all the money.

How did you switch over from sessions to Zeppelin?

My wife actually - she read that Page was forming a band. He said he was going up to Birmingham to try out a singer, considering, we had talked to Terry Reid first. Robert Plant was earning 40 pounds a week. We put him on wages for a while to start. I booked him on a PJ Proby session to get him some money. I booked Robert on Tambourine to get him on the session.

There is such legend about the Zeppelin chemistry during the early recording phase - you knew you hit on something so quickly.

It was a matter of timing as well. Cream just ended. We knew it was a good band. Page and I knew how to put together a good band. Plus it was the time of FM radio. You could actually hear bands such as the Buffalo Springfield on the radio. Radio played us to death. Live we started out opening for Fillmore East and West. Also at the Boston Tea Party: Arthur Lee and Janis Joplin. They couldn't believe us because we were pretty intense.

#john paul jones #jonesy #led zeppelin #robert plant #planty #jimmy page #pagey #john bonham #bonzo #60s #70s #70s rock #70s music #rock music #ourshadowstallerthanoursoul

[ceasarslegion]

Its perfectly fine to be frustrated when something you were expecting to buy isnt there anymore or if there was miscommunication and human error along the way that led to it not happening. However, if youre mean to the sales associates and lash out at them because of it, thats a very quick way to ensure you dont get the Inconvenience Consolation Perks.

I was trying to get a new laptop the other day, but they had a whole system override that was super glitchy and wouldnt let them sign on the model i wanted to its monthly payments, even after they held it for me overnight and i came back the next day to see if a system refresh would do it. Extremely frustrating when i need a computer as soon as possible and thats the best specs for price i could find, but literally not their fault, especially when they did a bunch of stuff they technically werent supposed to do (like hold an unpaid expensive laptop for me and turn someone else who wanted to buy up front away from it in that time) just to make sure i got first claim on it.

And all i did to vent that frustration was go "awww, thats too bad :(( do you have any other options?" and what do you know, the guy had another one with almost identical specs for an almost identical price, the only difference was that it had an intel processor instead of a ryzen. He even got me the same size from the same brand with the same built-in accessories, and then hey, he gave me a free antivirus installation and 85 bucks of store credit to throw in for a bunch of free accessories of my choosing "because you had to come out here two days in a row and we still couldnt get you your first choice." I got a super nice laptop bag and a new mouse with it

I also work in customer service. We also do inconvenience perks, but if youre a piece of shit to us for something that wasnt even our fault, all youre gonna get is "sowwy 👉👈 take care </3" if youre really nice and understanding about it and actually use the lessons you learned in kindergarten about being patient and waiting your turn and that things dont always go your way, we'll shower you with free travel sized products and slap a mall employee discount on whatever you do get, if anything. That guy who was probably paid some shitty hourly wage did not have to create more work for himself by showing me other models and pulling up comparison charts on the specs and monthly prices until i picked another computer, and he definitely didnt have to swallow the hit to his numbers by giving me free stuff, but turns out that if youre nice to people whose job it is to help you, theyre gonna wanna help you more than the dipshits who wouldve yelled at them. Just because its their job to help you doesnt mean youre entitled to making it suck. Be understanding and they just might want to help you.

#some thoughts

[that-glitter-chick]

Day two of Skystar week! Todays prompt is “Relief”. Song is “Wait for You” by Elliott Yamin.

Ficlit: Past the Horizon

“Come away with me.”

Skyfire had said it with such a tumultuous mixture of joy and desperation Starscream gulped in reflex.

“What, just desert the two most powerful armies in Cybertronian history like it’s no big deal? Oh sure, that’ll end well!” The Seeker flashed his optics in a Transformer facsimile of rolling one’s eyes.

It had been such a nice lesion, so relaxing and stimulating (the afterwards conversation was almost as good as the interfacing, which just went to show how starved the Air Commander was for intelligent company), why did the big dope have to ruin it with such nonsense? Couldn’t they just cuddle and prolong going back to their separate factions as long as they dared?

“Starscream, I’m serious! We could go to Sigma Orionis.” The Shuttle-former blathered on excitedly, pointing to the star in question as if his Partner didn’t recognize the designation. “There’s a lull in the fighting, both sides are too distracted by hunting for Energon and dealing with the Human governments interference, the timing will never be more perfect.”

The Decepticon shook his head with a patience reserved only for the Mech sitting beside him. “It’s too close Skyfire, they’ll find us in no time. Megatron will execute us on the spot if my side gets to us first, and it’ll only be mildly better if the Autobots get a hold of us instead.”

He snorted, a gesture his tutors in the Grand House back in Vos would have blown a gasket to hear a Crown Prince of the Royal line make. “Optimus will have us both put in stasis until the war’s over, wherein you’ll be locked up for the rest of your life for desertion and I’ll be put on trail, THEN executed for my war crimes as Megatron’s second in command.”

“But the fact that it’s so close is the beauty of it beloved! They won’t expect it.” A white servo cupped Starscream’s helm and turned him gently to gaze into blue optics. “Any bot sent to hunt us down will go right by us, directly to the Cybertronian colonies like Velocitron or Helix. I have contacts in the neutral colony hidden on Sigma Orionis. They can vouch for us when we get there.”

“But what about my brothers?” The question was out of his vocalizer before he even had time to think it. Coolant tears silently flowed from his own crimson optics unbidden. “Skywarp and Thundercracker. Megatron will torture them, terminate them, I can’t just abandon the only family I have left.”

Skyfire’s enthusiasm was undeterred. He shifted his arm to wind it around Starscream’s waist and pulled him close. “We’ll take them with us of course! Instead of meeting up for… uh, quality time…”

Starscream smirked at his mate’s blush and reluctance to call their clandestine rendezvous what they were, very dangerous aft-calls.

“All four of us will run off together, we’ll be a family unit again, just like before the war.” The big Autobot said it like it was as easy as crossing a street in Iacon during the Golden Age.

“Except my poor Trin won’t be fortunate enough to have their Conjunx like I do.” Starscream’s processor was assaulted by images of his beautiful and powerful sisters-in-bond, Novastorm and Windblade. They had been missing since the earliest vorns of the war, and rumor had it at least one of them had been with Spark.

Skyfire laughed like a Mech possessed, throwing his helm back and shoulders shaking with mirth.

“So glad you take such amusement from our family’s loss.” Starscream grumbled, baffled by his mate’s reaction. “For booting up cold lover, you’d think you were the Decepticon.”

“No Sweetspark, you don’t understand,” the big Autobot gasped to get a hold of himself, whipping laughter tears from his faceplates.

“Darn right I don’t! Explain yourself immediately.” He demanded in his most imperial tone. He never had been able to shake off his Royal training, not that he had tried very hard but that was beside the point, even when he had run away to join the Science Academy in Iacon.

“They’re alive beloved! They are the contacts I mentioned. Novastorm and Windblade are on Sigma Orionis, have been from the beginning. Nova was with Spark and Windblade refused to leave her sister. Thundercracker and Skywarp never told you to protect you. Working so closely with Megatron, Soundwave and Shockwave, they feared you would be tortured if they ever suspected you knew where Decepticon Femmes and Sparklings may be hiding. This entire conversation was me trying to decern if you were ready to leave behind your ambitions within the Decepticons and run away with us.”

“Re… really?!” Starscream was so shocked and overwhelmed with sudden hope, he forgot to be angry that his entire family unit had been keeping a major secret from him. The facts that he did latch onto were, one, he had a niece or nephew living on Sigma Orionis, and two, Skyfire and his Trin had refused to leave without him. His beloved had risked his life rather than live without him and his brothers had put off reuniting with their own Conjunx and child to not leave him alone.

“When do we leave?” Starscream’s Spark swelled with joy at the look of pure relief that flooded his beloved’s features, as Skyfire kissed his helm tenderly.

#skystarweek 2023 #g1 transformers #g1 starscream #g1 skyfire #skystarweek #maccadam

[crying-fantasies]

Bad company

For most of her existence Max has been a happy go lucky little girl, one Thundercracker spoiled rotten since day one in the best of his capacity, it got you certainly a little worried once you accepted his courting, how was Max going to grow up in an environment with a cybertronian and a human as parents.

Well, for most part, your worries were for nothing, she is a pretty good kid, a good student and also a good member of society, there is the occasional argument but she is a young adult now, it's understandable, but then, one day, it happened.

Thundercracker got you out on a date, he was finally in vacation from his job and while he kept on scribbling words that popped up on his processor you didn't stop him any time he got his data pad out, but, at least, the majority of his attention was still on you while walking on the forest near home after a simple dinner, one thing let to another and you were kissing his intake with such a fervor that he tree he was leaning on his back strut against couldn't hold on any longer, his fall was heard in every corner of the forest and also his signature sonic attack, it was an accident and when he got out of his almost kiss drunk state he looked at you, who was securely on his arms, TC smiled at you with bertroom optics, you knew what he wanted even before he changed and put you on his cockpit where he always had a photo of your full family on the past.

It was almost midnight, way before you both thought on getting back, but a healthy married couple have necessities.

When you got back he changed again to bipedal form, kissing you fervently, you did what you could with the size difference and put a hand over his cockpit, he moaned, or so you thought, because he was kissing you, and that was definitely not your husband voice.

It took a moment to sink, then TC wings flared up dangerously, expression sour, even showing some sharp dentae in a snarl, someone dared to enter his house and he didn't care if it was friend or foe, he didn't know the EM filed that was getting near with every step directed to his daughter habsuit while he feared the worst and you too, but in a different way and reason.

Max habsuit was originally designed to have a seeker like bot or con live comfortably inside, it was more like a department with many levels than a room, and while you tried to stop him when you recognized the sounds coming from the other side of the door it was already too late, Thundercracker opened up the door with his bare servos and leaving dents by the wicked way his sharp digits were dragging along the surface, he could've used the password but the drama was always first.

A drama that escalated quickly with the embarrassed, surprised and scared shouts, you didn't want to look more of what you already saw, your legally adult daughter having fun with a mech and one moment later your husband was chasing away a combat jet from the base/house you were living into while shouting profanities in vosian, some other humans on the base came to look what was happening and you tried your best to keep this normal as it could given the group seeing how TC was hunting down the other mech in the distance.

One would think his anger was going to run out on the chase, and maybe it was to some degree now that he was talking with Max, now with pants on, in their usual way.

"Anyone can frag with anyone, dad, I don't have to marry every bot or human I had sex with"

"Wait, of how many are we talking about again?"

Let's just say they are in a discussion right now.

"Don't talk to me like you were a virgin when you two married" Max points to you both, you look to another place, already knowing the answer for you and TC, who looks offended.

"Those were different times, young lady!" Shit, he said the worst thing possible.

"Oh, oh, so, since you were on the great war or whatever you had the privilege of fucking around to your spark's content, I bet you even" She points up in vosian, now livid, and you still don't understand how she can make such a sound and also don't want to know what it was since Thundercracker puts a servo over his spark chamber as if he is going to have a pulse failure any moment while his wings drop, intake open with surprise, horror and apparent visceral pain.

"Times have changed!"

"It doesn't mean slag!"

Hum, maybe you could put a pair of notes under their doors if this get way too far, ones that says sorry and a little heart, it's always worked before, but that will be the last resort.

"Buster!" TC shouts out to the previously sound sleeping dog, her ears picked up at the second his voice raised, "my little baby has become a spark eater temptress..." it could've been hilarious to see such a big mech crying to his dog about his daughter problems with fallen wings at his sides, face plate hidden on his servos, but you know this is getting serious if it has come to this and you finally talk, "where did I go wrong?!" But he is lamenting again.

"It's not like you did something wrong", you try to touch his wing as soft as possible given how sensible it is, and right now he needs a shoulder to cry into even when a few of his tears were more than enough to drown you.

"It's obvious that I did, now Max doesn't even want to make an honest mech from that youngling"

...

What?

"Wait a... you aren't worried for Max but for the mech?"

"Well, of course I'm worried for Max!" His ventilators hit hard as if the mere assumption of the question is ridiculous, "but think about poor Moonshine!"

"...You know his name" it wasn't even a question to this point.

"I mean, he is a lunarian and his presence is as noticeable as his glasses in a window shop, he is the fastest of his whole batch"

"For how long were you two talking and what about?"

"He is an honest mech" he takes your hands on his servos, looking like he wants something, "such a poor youngling, just for how long this has being going on to end like this, at least he hasn't show his spark already"

"TC, our daughter's sex life is really not our business" you can almost see Max cringe to his words, in the same way you are doing it right now, "if she wants something more serious with this guy then she'll say it"

"I doubt it", he looks at the ceiling, okay, he is being dramatic again, "just look at us, how happy we are"

...

"You are comparing our situation with what happens with Max" again, not a question.

"I was heartbroken when you left..."

"I didn't left, we weren't together to begin with-"

"With our own miracle from Primus' himself..."

"Thundercracker, we've already talked about this, since almost two decades!"

"For a good moment I thought I was in love with someone like... like..."

You know of who he is referring to but this is getting ridiculous, more than usual, "Thundercracker, you know I have never been like him, Max neither, you're seeing this wrong-"

"I'm not!" Oh good, now he is screaming, holding you near his cockpit, it's almost crushing you, "and you can hear and believe me, my love, I'm not letting my sparkling go in the same path as him!"

Oh boy, and he says it with such pain, that's his main worry, isn't it? If there is any curiosity, he is talking about his former trine partner Starscream, you are sure, because back in the year when you tried to talk to him about the baby he shouted: "I don't need a Screamer number two, so you can leave us alone!" while crying his life out with the baby sleeping on his cockpit, not even letting you see her.

His mentor coding kicked hard.

"Max'll be happy, she'll get happily married and have a conjunx, one that cherishes her and... and" ah, he has tears in the borders of his optics, he is practically pleading you with that sad face and you are a little angry in how fast you give into him and kiss him to comfort, to let him know you are here.

He whimpers, holding you close to his face plate, you hug him to the best of your capacities.

"My baby..."

"It's okay, Thunder, she is a grown girl, she'll do good decisions on her life"

Maybe you should've talked with Max a little more now that you know her preferences, it's almost a week since then and you go to her room...

... And that bot isn't Moonshine.

Maybe Max had gotten more about her Vos side of the family than what you really thought at first, maybe it really wasn't good that she was in contact with Skywarp and Starscream since such a sweet age.

#reader insert #x reader #tf mtmte #transformers x reader #transformers #transformers idw #transformers x human reader #transformers thundercracker #thundercracker #transformers oc

[ask-kyoya-hibari-and-kyo-kun]

Prologue Part 1

KHR TYL!Timeline & Consequences

This all started with a short-sighted act of revenge, like so many other parts of Vongola's bloodsoaked history.

After Byakuran's death, and the death or capture of the Six Funeral Wreaths, Millefiore's downfall was basically ensured, meaning the misplaced teenagers were finally allowed to go home! There were quick, but heartfelt goodbyes and then, one by one, the time travelers stepped through the large, round machine to finally, finally return home.

Accompanying them for a two-way trip, of course, were this time period's Arcobalenos. Just to seal the Past's Mare Rings, to prevent any further heartache. To hopefully change all parallel worlds in which Byakuran succeeded with his hostile takeover.

The machine could only handle one or two people passing through it at once, so sending the teens back became almost ceremonial. Not to mention that there was a brief overlap when some of the teens encountered Vongola's actual Boss. Adult Tsuna instantly grew flustered and uncomfortable with the amazement and praise he was receiving and retreated to the back of the room.

A naive mistake...

Either way, inevitably the young Hibari Kyoya stepped up to the portal. He'd be the last to pass through, right after their Skull, whom this teen unceremoniously kicked through ahead of himself.

Tiny Kyoya waited for the machine to fall silent, signaling that it was fine to pass through, only to turn slightly, now facing the room. That angry, sharp whistle immediately got everyone's attention and the teen gave them an absolutely withering glare. "This was by far the worst week of my life."

Confusion instantly silenced all conversations, several people now alert and worried, but the teen continued easily. His smirk was definitely cloudy and sadistic when he pulled something out of his pocket. "I'm taking these as compensation."

And there, comfortably clasped between the teenager's fingers, wrapped in Mammon's chains, were the missing Sun and Lightning Mare Rings. Every other ring has been accounted for, only those two were presumed lost or destroyed, because they didn't show up on any radar when the scientists checked.

Instantly, everyone lunged for tiny Kyoya, but even as a teen, he'd always been unnaturally quick. At the very least quick enough to pocket some rings and take a step, before any of them managed to grab hold of him. Not even Dino's whip snapped that fast. Tsuna might've stood a chance, but with how far away he was from the machine, he didn't have a clear path.

And just like that, the machine whirred and Teen Kyoya disappeared in a flash of light.

Chaos immediately ensued.

For a moment nobody knew what to do and even then, most of the adult guardians did not have any kind of reason to trust Irie when he urged them to follow the teen to retrieve the rings. And no, Adult Kyoya could not be put back in the machine to force the teen to reappear.

Mostly because he was experiencing advanced symptoms of blood loss. Afterall, he'd been bleeding from countless wounds he suffered at Genkishi's blades for all the days he'd spend in the machine. Tsuna forced first aid onto him immediately, but it was still too late.

Because when the Arcobalenos returned, which they did within minutes, they did so all at once. And that promptly melted through the round machine's core processor and fried most of the attached computers' motherboards. In summary, they are stuck until everything would be repaired, at which point, who knows what that teenaged menace would've done with those rings!?

At least, even with several chunks of their Tri-ni-sette unaccounted for, Time, Space and Reality didn't rip apart at the seams...

... Right?

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr fanfic #this is only the premise 💜 #TYL!khr #gotta get back into the habit of daily self-indulgent writing #will try to post daily #pls be nice #first time making an ask blog #Teen!Kyoya being himself 💜 #An absolute menace #that Child #Ask Kyoya Hibari and Kyo-kun

[backburnerdio]

OC Kiss Week – Day 1 Dance

WIP: Time Borrowed Pairing: Lora & Valetta cw: Language, alcohol, romance Words: 1690 Tag List: @irnalia, @waysofink, @ashen-crest, @spacetimewraithwrites,@dustylovelyrun, @idreamonpaper, @abalonetea, @jaimistoryteller, @kaiusvnoir, @writeouswriter, @reininginthefirewriting, @concealeddarkness13, @winterandwords (Used the Time Borrowed taglist, please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from this event or the main taglist) Soundtrack: Susie Save Your Love – Allie X

Valetta was sure she was in hell. Tailor-made just for her. She sat at the bar, crammed between some slumping Joe, well past their limit, and Garnet, who was telling some animated story. Five minutes ago she would have bragged how fantastic the idea of going out was. How great of a place she had picked. Rubbed it in Garnet’s face since he had been reluctant to go out.

Five minutes ago she’d been waiting to give him her best I Told You So speech as soon as he got the number from the girl he was flirting with at the bar.

Five minutes ago she had been successfully distracted from thinking about Lora.

Until Lora was sitting at a table across the dance floor.

With two drinks already in her system, Valetta hadn’t noticed whenever Lora walked in. But she couldn’t miss her now. She was sitting with a group, in one of her pencil skirt dresses with a dipping neckline and little cutouts up the sides. She wore her hair down, spilling down her back, nearly to her hips. And, as always, she was decorated to the nine with shimmering accessories, dangling earrings, and a jeweled choker.

Valetta berated herself any time she caught herself staring through the bustle of the dance floor. She tried entertaining herself by watching the mechanics of lasers and lights fixed on the ceiling. The bass bombarded every corner of the establishment, making her guts feel like they were inside a food processor and her brain rattling inside a jar of nails.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Trapped. Smooshed as Garnet leaned closer.

“You plastered?” He called over the music, leaning in her ear. “You haven’t moved in, like, fifteen minutes.”

“I’m good.” She lied, gaze fixed on Lora who had moved away from the VIP table her group booked and onto the dance floor.

“Something in your drink?” Garnet asked, hand on her shoulder causing her to jolt. Even in the sway of the neon lights she could tell he was concerned.

“Lay off, I’m good!” She repeated, feeling like a trapped animal. Garnet leaned away, saying something to the woman he’d been chatting up. She nodded and stepped away, mingling back into the crowd.

“You don’t sound good,” Garnet returned, glancing down at the nearly empty scotch glass in her hand. “You want me to take you home?”

But she couldn’t answer. Her rattling brain detected something about one of the dancers in the crowd. He went up to Lora, leaning into her ear to talk, and she politely shook her head, turning her head to continue dancing. It wasn’t enough to end his pursuit. He had the audacity to grab Lora’s wrist, pulling her back around and talking more.

“Yeah, come on, we’re going home.” Garnet patted her shoulder.

Lora pulled her arm away, again politely excusing herself to a different part of the dance floor. Valetta sat up on the barstool, watching as the guy waited a moment before following her.

“You got me?!” Valetta yelled over the music and Garnet paused from waving down a bartender. He turned back to her.

“Always,” he answered just as loudly.

Valetta knocked back the last that was in her glass before sliding off the barstool, staggering to her feet. She felt Garnet bump into her as he stood as well, leaving room between them as Valetta hunted down her target. She found them at the far end of the bar, near the bathrooms where the creep had pulled her aside to block her exit back into the crowd.

Lora was still stern, showing off every skill she had to avoid confrontation. She hated fighting, physical or verbal –she’d told Valetta several times before. And even then, being backed into a corner by a creep, she was determined to find a civil way out. Valetta, however, was trained to handle danger fast and to the point. Delicate and deadly.

“There you are,” she said loudly, wedging them apart with an elbow. “Babe, I been looking everywhere for you. I got our drinks at the bar.” She glanced at the guy, making a show of looking him up and down. “Might wanna show some manners, my guy.”

“Manners, look who’s talking. Who the fuck are you?”

“Apparently the six o’clock news if I gotta inform you she’s not interested.” Valetta scoffed, using herself as a partition as Lora stepped around for an escape.

“Come on, V, it’s not worth it,” she whispered, taking her by a hand.

“Yeah, like you look like you could take care of her. You even tall enough to ride that ride?”

“You gotta ride tall enough to ride?” The drinks were hitting, starting to feel more invincible than she knew she probably was.

“I’ll bash your fuckin’ skull in—”

“Ay, alright,” Garnet tossed an arm across the man’s shoulders, turning him away. “C’mon man, let’s go get a light. You gotta light?”

Valetta pulled them away from the crowd, towards the edge of the room on the quieter side of one of the subwoofers. There were only a few couples this far back, dotting down the wall to either take a break from dancing or making out.

“Are you okay?” Valetta turned to Lora, dropping her hand to hold her at the shoulders only to flounder when she got a closer look at her face. Her makeup was more suited for the club than what she ever wore for work, and her perfume was to die for. Valetta wasn’t even sure if the alcohol was making it worse.

Pretty. Pretty. Pretty. Her intrusive thoughts wouldn’t quiet down.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Lora nodded, clearly still a little shocked if her shaking hands were anything to go by. Her smile flashed before quickly falling away. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Yeah, you know how Garnet is he won’t go out—”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Lora interrupted, slamming her eyes shut and shaking her head before laughing. “Sorry.”

“Hey, I’m glad I’m here too. Usually don’t have to worry about creeps in this p-place.” She honest to God stammered when Lora placed a hand on her side, moving in closer as someone squeezed past to head down the corridor for the bathrooms. “Do you wanna step out, maybe get some air?”

“Can we grab a dance first?” Lora laughed nervously. “No one at my table wants to dance, and that’s all I’ve been looking forward to all week.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“They paid VIP cover to sit at a table? Are they deranged?” Valetta laughed when that earned a smile. “Hell yeah, sweetheart, let’s get you a dance!” She playfully tugged at Lora’s hand, grinning as she led her into the crowd. It was packed and loud, Valetta having to adjust the sensitivity of her hearing aids, but it was entirely worth it to see Lora come alive.

Valetta caught glimpses of her between the flash of laser light, glinting on her jewelry and bangles. It was apparent she loved to dance, infectious to have Valetta joining in. It wasn’t long before they were swaying and bouncing with the beat, belting out lyrics to any song they knew, unsure how many they danced to. Lora was pure energy, radiant and irresistible.

At one point Valetta found herself pulled in close, Lora’s hands cradling the back of her neck with her manicured nails scraping in and out of the short hair on the back of her head. Valetta held her at the waist, matching her movements as the crowd grows more and more packed. Lora leaned down, closer, tilting her face towards Valetta’s neck.

And talking to her.

“I’m really glad you were here,” She called over the music. “You see, I’ve been wanting to ask you out for weeks.” Lora moved one hand, brushing her hair back, exposing more of her throat. “I’ve been too nervous.”

“Nervous?” Valetta asked stupidly, grateful the music was loud enough to swallow the croak to her voice. At least, she hoped so.

“Yeah!” Lora giggled and Valetta nearly melted on the spot. “You’re such a badass and I’m so lame. You literally just tried to fight a man twice your height!” She was laughing hard enough to wrap her arms around Valetta.

“He was a creep!” Valetta laughed too. “And I can’t dance.”

“I like dancing with you!” Lora leaned back something about her face softening. Valetta stopped trying to quiet her intrusive thoughts. She reached up, framing Lora’s face to tilt her into a proper kiss. Lora melted against her, flush chest to chest as Valetta kept them swaying to the beat. Nails scraped into her hair, thankful one of her knees was prosthetic to keep them both from spilling on the floor.

Both of them were smiling too hard to continue kissing, moving to the beat as a new song began to play.

“I like that kind of dancing,” Valetta snickered. Lora gave her a few lingering pecks before leaning to speak in her ear again.

“Why don’t we go get some air now? The back door’s just over there.” She pointed through the lights, “Food?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Valetta cheered, stepping back for Lora to take the lead, threading their fingers together to head for the door. “Wait, what about your VIP table?”

“I’ll text them. This is way more important.” She pressed the door open, smiling as she urged Valetta out into the cool night air.

Garnet waited out front, sitting on one of the massive installed greenery beds. He leisurely worked on his cigarette, staring at his phone screen trying to decide if he should hit send. He didn’t even know if Beau was awake at this time of night. Or online. Whatever.

The notification of a new text popped up at the top of the screen.

Tiny Terror >Don't wait up heading home w Lora >😜💋

Garnet smirked at the screen, replying to tell her to get some sleep and call him in the morning. He took one last drag of his smoke before switching to Beau’s message string, hitting send.

#ockiss23 #ockissweek #writing #writblr #writeblr #amwriting #wip: tb #lora oc #valetta oc

[arceespinkgun]

Here’s a another fic I wrote for the TF Rare Pairing Fest! This one is TFA SenOp (Sentinel/Optimus). It’s a post-canon fic about Sentinel and Optimus moving on with their lives and Sentinel reflecting on his past. Now also on AO3.

October 26: Ghosts/Newly Born

Just When I’d Stopped Opening Doors

“Online your optics, Optimus!” Sentinel exclaimed, gesturing to the entire floor of consoles. There were so many screens, it was like looking at the stars. “I hereby grant you full access to the archives.”

“W-Wait, I didn’t ask for this!” Optimus sounded so frazzled and indignant, it was music to Sentinel’s audio receptors. “I thought you’d just declassify a couple of documents for me to read!” 

“But isn’t this what you really wanted?” Sentinel asked. “You can’t deny that!”

“Well... yes, I do want this, but Sentinel, it would be nepotism!” Optimus snapped. 

Sentinel saw this reaction coming a lightyear away. It was just like Optimus to throw a kind gesture back in his face-plate like this—but by this point, Sentinel understood that he wasn’t trying to be an ingrate. He was just being uptight, selfless, and most of all, stupid. Kind of endearing, actually. Sentinel put an arm around Optimus’s shoulders. “Everybody gets opportunities from their connections, Optimus,” he explained, “what matters is that I know a history nerd like you can actually be trusted with this.” He leaned in closer to add, “Think of it this way—since everyone sees you as such a big hero these days, if I keep you happy, everybody else will be happy with me.”

Optimus just heaved a sigh and looked down at the floor, all the pent-up excitement leaving his frame. His optics were hidden by the shadow cast by his little cap.

Sentinel stepped back. “Come on, that was a great argument! What’s your problem?!” When Optimus obstinately said nothing, Sentinel pointed at him. “Tell me what’s bothering you, Magnus’s orders!”

Optimus gave him an unimpressed glare, but at least he actually looked up instead of hanging his helm. But the fact that he was not complaining about an “abuse of power” or anything really showed how troubled he was. It took Optimus a moment to actually gather his words. “...It’s not about this... gesture. It’s actually very kind of you, Sentinel.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But every time I’m reminded of how everybody sees me as a hero now—which is unfortunately often—I can’t stand it. It’s so shallow!”  

“This again? You brought in Megatron himself—”  

Optimus cut him off. “I know I’m a hero, but how am I supposed to actually enjoy any of this praise—especially from Ultra Magnus—when only a few stellar cycles ago, Ultra Magnus didn’t even seem relieved to see me alive on Earth?! I had to find out I’d been declared dead while filling out forms after the fact!” He paused. “Come to think of it, I also couldn’t figure any of this out from how you acted, either. Were you even upset when you thought I was offline?” His glare was even more piercing than before.

Sentinel looked pointedly away. “Don't be like that, I might not have seemed torn up about it when we met you on Earth, but it's not as if I was happy about what happened, either!”

”I specifically asked if you were upset.”

Sentinel could not bring himself to turn to look at him. “Listen, Optimus, we may have a... difficult history, but obviously I never wanted you to die, so I wasn't celebrating your death and I did give you a nice eulogy. But it’s not my fault if I don't remember feeling that much at the time, so no, I can't say I was upset—actually, scratch that, I remember being upset that I had to speak at your funeral. Thanks, Ultra Magnus....” As he remembered that solar cycle, it felt like his processor was filling with static. 

“What did you do right after the funeral, Sentinel?” Optimus asked, his tone softer than before.

Now the space behind Sentinel’s optical sensors was really starting to hurt. “Uh, I got into an argument with ‘Longarm’ about the Allspark being lost... oh, and then I went to go get some high-grade energon so I could finally say all the bad things about you I couldn't talk about in the eulogy! And then...”

Sentinel hated the Memorial Plaza ever since Elita’s memorial service. When Ultra Magnus told him to eulogize Optimus, Sentinel dreaded standing in it again. But strangely, even though he could compare the Plaza in his memory files to the one he was leaving now and could line up the images precisely, it seemed unfamiliar. Sentinel struggled to gauge the distance between the statues and to the burnished buildings on the horizon, even though he had seen them countless times. Despite all the dread and anger that had settled in his tanks before Optimus’s service, he found himself with more numbness hanging over him than any fury. Numbness, but also an intense, throbbing processor ache, which probably explained why he was stumbling around and everything seemed so alien. Sentinel really needed that drink he had promised himself. 

He knew, vaguely, that the people who had attended and who were now slowly filing out of the Plaza were individuals he recognized. But they just looked like a grey, formless mass stretching out around him. Which made a lot of sense, actually. Like how when Sentinel thought back to sometime after Elita’s death, when he had achieved the rank of Minor, the names and faceplates of most of the cadets he had trained slipped away from him—even though he had named them all himself—because they all paled in comparison to who he had lost. Apparently now that Sentinel had survived Optimus as well, even more people were slipping away. It was weird how losing Elita and then Optimus caused him to... preemptively lose other people? With Elita, it made sense, because she could eclipse anyone else, but Optimus...

Sentinel transformed and sped away, searching for the closest bar, but even in his alt-mode he could not help but compare the gold color of the buildings and he drove past to the color of Elita’s armor, and then he was remembering her smile, and how she always took care of him and Optimus both, and how much stronger she was than both of them—not that rusty old Ultra Magnus ever recognized it. It was just like Optimus to go get himself killed and make Sentinel have to think about all of this again. 

Eventually Sentinel found a place and stepped through the doorway, and the low, dim lighting was a relief to his aching sensors. He could feel all the insulting remarks about Optimus he had kept down throughout the eulogy bubbling up, and he had planned to sit next to other bots and make them listen to what a coldsparked loser Optimus was, but now the thought of that felt off somehow, so he went to a more private, isolated table instead. He took a barrel of high-energon eagerly, even though he already felt really unsteady and like his spark was floating outside of his frame. Maybe, he thought while swallowing some high-grade, the feeling would actually improve with drinking instead of getting worse. 

“You are... uh... were just like the Allspark, Optimus,” he said to nobody, while looking up at the dark, indistinct ceiling. He expected to see the space filled with processor noise. “You’re better off being lost. With you around, things will only ever get worse,” he choked on the last word. The image of the Allspark blazing on the display the last time he had seen Optimus alive, not even in-person, surged to the surface of his mind. “You’re—were such a jerk!” Sentinel snapped, but not loudly enough for anybody to overhear. Optimus had his own fire inside of him, just like the Allspark. Oh sure, he seemed introverted and studious and responsible at first glance, but he was actually an uncompromising glitch head who was always waiting for the right moment to pinpoint the weaknesses of everyone around him. He had everyone fooled—Elita knew it, and Sentinel knew it, and Optimus’s true self was something to behold. That fire could have sparked new life within the Autobots.

“Too bad you ruined it,” Sentinel muttered. He took another drink, then continued, “You should’ve known I was making the right choice to go offline for you and Elita, but you couldn’t respect that, could you? So what if you... if you thought doing anything else would’ve gotten us all killed... couldn’t you at least have said you were sorry for choosing to save me... but you seemed hurt more by whatever Ultra Magnus thought than anything else! You were colder than a hyperfrost emitter.” But the more he tried to rant, the more he felt he was locked in a losing battle, the rage leaving his voice. It was hard enough to muster anger with all the numbness getting in the way, but now it was even worse because as he spoke, he could not help but put the pieces of the puzzle together. Optimus was Optimus. He always did reach for the solution that would have seemed most ideal written out. And even before all the bad energon that was between him and Sentinel... or had been, before Optimus’s death, he had always been detached and vicious. Was that not the same cold fire that had drawn Elita and Sentinel to him in the first place? Knowing Optimus, and Ultra Magnus was unfortunately right, Sentinel did know him best, maybe he was even trying to be strong for Sentinel’s own sake. 

As Sentinel followed this thought to its conclusion, he realized he knew. The knowledge came on suddenly, but there was no horror nor fanfare nor burst of relief. There was only the tingling feeling of the high-grade setting in, but even that was dulled by the numbness. It was not even like a switch had been flipped, it was less of a shock than even that would have been. It just made perfect sense—of course, with how Sentinel’s existence had always gone, he would end up surviving his two best friends and have had romantic feelings for them both. And he guessed he loved Elita because she was better than him and Optimus, and he loved Optimus because he was not better... but he definitely was something else. Something special. Though who could say what love even was, Sentinel had apparently felt it multiple times and he still did not know. With Elita, he had thought it was a feeling, the joy of being around someone and wanting to be close to them, but clearly that did not always apply to his feelings for Optimus. And later, Sentinel had thought love was an action one takes—that it was always taking care of someone—but that could not describe it either. But, it was all right that he did not know what it was. Obviously it was not important anymore. All that was important now was to work hard enough to shield every citizen of the Commonwealth and protect them from everything he had endured.

Upon realizing all of this, Sentinel noticed an overpowering roaring sound paired with bright light. Was there some brutal lightning storm going on? But wait, he was indoors, not outside. Why would there be lightning in the bar? Oh, it was just sparks pouring out of his optics reflecting off the now-empty barrel he had been drinking out of. Sentinel was dimly aware that expending this much energy could send him into stasis lock if he was not careful, but all he chose to do was lock his battle mask into place over his face-plate, shutting the sparks inside, as he lay down against the tabletop. 

“...actually, I don’t remember anything after the solar cycle of the memorial service,” Sentinel said, the pain in his processor fading. “The next thing I knew, it turned out you were alive! Why?”

“But wouldn’t that have been a period of... fifty-one stellar cycles?” Optimus asked. “It can’t be healthy to have that much of your memory inaccessible, Sentinel. You should really get that checked out.” It seemed like he had been distracted from everything that had been weighing on him before, which was a good thing. Sentinel was fine with having to remember all of that for a good cause—after all, it was not like all that suffering had mattered, and as he himself had pointed out, keeping Optimus happy was in his best interests.

“You think I should bother to ask Red Alert or First Aid about my memory?” Sentinel asked. He managed to turn and look at Optimus again. “But everyone has gaps in their memory like that when they don’t need to remember unimportant things. It doesn’t matter. Like how most of my time as a boot camp instructor didn’t matter. I don’t remember much of that, either.” 

“How can you say it doesn’t matter?! Arcee’s life was nearly ruined by having her memory erased!” 

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t say this in front of her, Optimus. But that’s different. She was an Intel bot—it was her job to remember everything,” Sentinel said. “Unlike how disastrous things always seem to be on that dirt ball, Earth, most of us don’t have that many important things to remember.”

“Something important must have happened during that time,” Optimus said with certainty. What revealing thing had he noticed that made him so sure?

Sentinel’s antennae tilted back as he felt Optimus’s steely gaze on him. It looked especially intense in all the blue lights from the screens all over the place. “Uh... well...” Sentinel muttered, “honestly, probably just a bunch of stress and paperwork about your incident that was all pointless when you turned up alive and we found out you’d broken the Allspark.” 

Optimus seemed thoughtful. Sentinel felt the growing suspicion that Optimus knew something he did not. In the past, this would always make him feel like he needed to pull out his shield—figuratively speaking, anyway—because Optimus always seemed as likely to harm him as help him. But now that he had seen enough proof that Optimus did always want to help him deep down, he felt more anticipation than alarm. 

“So...” Optimus began, “what you’re saying is, ‘Nothing mattered until I knew you were alive, oh, and also the Allspark to hide that I mean that.’” His lips turned up slightly.

Sentinel froze and he heard more than felt his antennae flaring out. He fought the urge to cover his face-plate with his battle mask and instead tried to come up with some retort, but all he could vocalize was a little mechanical sound. 

Optimus’s smile widened as he strode with purpose up to him. Once he was close enough, he gently put a hand on one of Sentinel’s doors and then ran his other hand across Sentinel’s cape, clearly enjoying the texture. He leaned in close and said, softly, “Thanks, Sentinel, for letting me access all of these files. I accept the gift with my whole spark!”

“...You’re such a jerk.” Sentinel hid his blushing face-plate in his hands. And then the sound of Optimus’s laughter was ringing in his audio receptors, and Sentinel knew he was also receiving a precious gift.

#2022tfrarepairingfest #transformers animated #TFA #Sentinel Prime #Optimus Prime #SenOp #maccadam #My writing