kalixora

[kalixora]

So what's your type?

Brunets with weird eyes... Clearly...

[kalixora]

[kalixora]

In every universe

Spawned on an city island, you shook your head and blinked furiously, disoriented by the sudden shift. The last thing you remembered was strolling through the city with Natasha, the two of you laughing about how weirdly quiet things had been lately. It was supposed to be a normal day—coffee, maybe lunch. Now, the sun was harsh above you, the air sticky with humidity, and your body was wrapped in your full hero suit like you’d been yanked into a mission mid-briefing.

“Tasha?” you called out, voice edged with confusion.

Her head whipped around, eyes narrowing. “You okay?”

You nodded, but the shock still clung to you. You both rushed toward each other across the uneven sand, boots kicking up wet clumps of earth and shattered webbing that stuck to the ground like old gum.

“What’s going on?” you asked, heart pounding.

“Not sure,” Natasha muttered, frowning as she scanned the eerie skyline. Tall, unfamiliar structures loomed in the distance—half skyscraper, half webbed nest—twisting into the clouds like something out of a nightmare. “Where the hell is this place?”

You turned slowly with her. The landscape was a chaotic fusion of nature and something else entirely—mutated. Hulking spider webs spanned between trees like bridges. Strange, twitching cocoons hung from branches. The skyline of what once looked like a city was warped—buildings overtaken by vines, spires crowned with chitinous webbed domes.

“Wait…” you breathed. “Is this Tokyo?"

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “But it so full of... glowing webs?"

“Maybe Tony made Peter his own island?" you muttered, your eyes catching something moving just beyond giant glass window—a flash of red and blue swinging from one web to the next.

And just like that, a distant thwip echoed in the room.

You and Natasha both turned sharply, instincts kicking in.

Spawning in again—just a few feet away from where you and Natasha stood—another figure shimmered into existence with a faint ripple of blue light and static crackle. The flooring beneath her boots shifted as she stumbled slightly, arms flailing to steady herself.

You blinked.

There, standing under the glare of the sun, was a face you didn’t know personally, but you definitely knew from somewhere else.

"Is that…" you pointed, eyes widening. "Luna Snow?"

"Who?" Nat raised an eyebrow, still in full spy-mode, though her stance eased just a little. "That supposed to mean something?"

You turned to her, half shocked. "Seriously? She’s a global Kpop star. Also has cryo powers... Tony's ringtone."

Before Natasha could answer, the woman in question turned to face the two of you, visibly confused but trying her best to smile through it. She brushed a loose lock of silvery-blue hair behind her ear, her stage outfit gleaming slightly under the sun’s harsh light.

"Oh! Hey there!" Luna called out, her voice melodic even when confused. "Um—do you guys know what’s going on? One minute I was rehearsing backstage, and then poof… now I’m here. And this is definitely not Seoul."

You stepped forward slightly, offering a hand. "No clue. Same thing happened to us. We were just walking through the city and then suddenly... here. In costume. On this really pretty city filled with golden webs..."

Luna hesitated for a moment, then accepted your hand with a firm but friendly grip. Her touch was cool—like holding polished glass.

“I’m [your name],” you said. “This is Natasha.”

“Nice to meet you,” Luna replied, then squinted at the horizon. “Wait a second, I think I know you guys."

Natasha crossed her arms. “You do?"

"Yeah, Y/N L/N right? With [your powers], and Black widow. You guys saved New York from those gooey monsters from another planet."

"Gooey monsters?" Nat tilted her head. "We fought in an alien invasion. Maybe were diffrent people in your universe or something?"

Just then, a sharp screech echoed from somewhere deeper in the jungle—high-pitched, fast, and definitely not human. You, Natasha, and Luna spun around at the sound, instincts flaring.

Something came barreling out of the tangled underbrush, weaving through web-wrapped trees like a missile.

It was… a shark.

Correction: a small, land shark, bounding full-speed on stubby legs, tail wagging behind him, and mouth open in a wide, toothy grin. His little fins flapped like arms as he zigzagged across the sand.

“Is can’t be happening…?” you blinked.

The shark spun in a circle, then sprinted toward your group—straight for you.

“Oh no—nope—no thank you—”

But it was too late.

The land shark launched into your arms like a missile, knocking you back a step before nuzzling against your chest like an overexcited puppy. You staggered, caught completely off-guard.

“He's licking my face—Nat, he's licking my—"

Natasha lowered her weapons, blinking. “Seriously, what the hell is going on?” She smiled as the shark calmly jumped from you to her.

Luna cooed softly at the little creature. "Aww, so cute! What’s your name, little sharky?"

Around the shark’s neck was a collar. Natasha gently grabbed the tag and read the name aloud.

"Jeff."

Spawning with a low hiss… and in walked a man with silver hair, a sweeping deep-red cloak, and a helmet that gleamed like it had never known dust.

Magneto.

He stepped out like he’d been expected, his eyes cool as he surveyed the group. The energy in the room shifted instantly — heavy, electric, reverent. Even the lights seemed to dim slightly around him.

"Ah," he said, his voice smooth but commanding. "Hello?"

"Hi there!" Luna smiled brightly. "The actual Magneto! Wow!"

"Yes, er—should I know who you are?" he asked, giving her a puzzled look.

"No," Luna shrugged. "But you should know that magnetism doesn’t work on super-cooled materials. Guess what I can do?"

"Be impertinent, it seems," he replied casually, looking past her toward you and Natasha.

"Ah. If it isn’t the Avengers — how wonderful."

“Magneto…” you hummed thoughtfully. “Y’know, I’ve actually never met him before,” you said to Nat. “Do you think Wanda would know him?”

Before Natasha could respond, Magneto turned toward you, chin lifting ever so slightly.

“Wanda is my daughter. Of course she would know me,” he said, his voice laced with pride. “For I am.”

He let the silence hang dramatically, cape shifting behind him like it had its own gravity.

Natasha gave you a look. “Well… that answers that.”

Magneto moved to the window, studying the glowing sprawl below. “Spider-Islands… a game, a trap, or perhaps a crucible. Regardless, something powerful is waiting at its center.”

Then — a pulse.

Soft, warm green light glowed from the far wall. A panel hissed open.

Everyone turned again, weapons halfway drawn… only to pause as a cluster of vines pushed through, growing rapidly from the base of the wall. Bioluminescent spores floated in the air, casting soft lights across your faces.

From the vines stepped a small, familiar figure — bark-skinned, with wide glowing eyes and a gentle hum of nature in his steps.

“I am Groot,” he said.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. "A talking tree.."

Jeff barked joyfully and ran straight to him, wagging his tail like crazy. Groot giggled and gave him a hug, vines wrapping around the little shark like old friends reunited after lifetimes apart.

Luna laughed softly. “Okay, that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Even Natasha’s stoic expression cracked into a small smile.

Magneto observed Groot silently, then nodded. “Odd."

“Okay—are there any more people that are gonna show up, or is it just us?” Luna asked with a nervous laugh.

“Hey there!”

“AH!” Luna screamed, nearly jumping out of her boots.

A woman’s voice giggled in response. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you there, Luna.”

Luna blinked. “How do you know my name?”

“Oh, I know all your names,” the voice replied cheerfully. “Duh! I’m in charge of the multiverse. Like, the coolest job ever.”

You glanced at Natasha, who mouthed What the hell?

“Anyway,” the mystery girl continued, her voice practically sparkling, “I’ll keep it short! When the doors open, there’ll be objectives for you to complete. You’ll be facing off against familiar and unfamiliar faces.”

The room’s lights flickered in time with her words, casting an eerie glow across the floor.

“Each side that wins gets bumped higher in rank,” she added, chipper as ever. “And once you hit that mark? You’re free to go!”

Then silence.

As if she’d never been there at all.

Jeff growled lowly.

“…Did anyone else get Hunger Games flashbacks, or just me?” you muttered.

A low rumble filled the floor beneath you, followed by the mechanical clank of massive doors unlocking.

“But there’s a catch,” she continued. “You have to stay near the vehicle to keep it moving. If you wander too far, it’ll slow down… and eventually roll backwards.”

A beat passed.

“And if that happens? The other team wins, ranks up, and you—well, you stay stuck.”

A loud buzz signaled the end of the announcement, followed by flashing arrows pointing toward the now-open exit.

“Doors opening in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1!”

The doors slammed open with a mechanical whoosh, revealing the path ahead. Beyond the threshold, the island stretched out before you—vast, full of winding paths and towering obstacles.

And there, sitting in the distance, was the vehicle: a massive, sleek, futuristic transport, humming with low, pulsing energy.

The six of you stepped out the doors, all of you unsure of what to actually do. The moment you hesitated, a flash of light shot toward you.

You gasped and quickly stepped back, just as the light slammed into the wall behind you with a resounding crack.

Charging forward, you caught a glimpse of a young woman with yellow-blonde hair, her black outfit sleek and aerodynamic, like it was made for speed. She moved with precision, her eyes locked on your group, exuding confidence and power.

“Illyana,” Magneto warned, his voice steady but commanding. Without hesitation, he raised his hand, and an invisible force knocked her back, sending her stumbling.

“Get to the vehicle,” he ordered, his eyes narrowing as he focused on her. “I’ll handle the Darkchild.”

Running ahead, you were suddenly shoved to the side, your body slamming into the side of a nearby building with a harsh thud. You grunted, dazed for a moment, your head spinning as you tried to steady yourself. The sound of footsteps echoed nearby, and you quickly snapped your gaze up to meet your attacker.

Standing in front of you, arms crossed and eyes sharp, was Bucky Barnes. His face was hard, eyes narrowed with a familiar intensity, but something about him seemed different. Your breath hitched, lips parting as you took a step back, unsure whether to brace yourself for a fight or try to talk your way out of it.

"Is it... you?" you muttered under your breath, fingers flexing at your sides, wondering if he was the Bucky you knew or someone from another universe, a version of him twisted by a different fate. The memories of your Bucky flashed in your mind—his smirks, his soft side that only you got to see, his pain that mirrored your own at times. But now, there was nothing soft about him. Was this Bucky still capable of those quiet moments of warmth, or was he lost to something far darker?

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared at you with that familiar gaze—yet colder now, as if you were a stranger to him.

"Y/N?"

You nodded, your heart pounding as you took a tentative step closer. Without thinking, your hand reached out, fingers trembling, as if you could bridge the gap between you and the version of him standing in front of you.

But the moment your fingers neared his arm, he pulled back swiftly, stepping out of your reach like an instinctive reaction. His eyes flickered with something unreadable—anger? Fear? Regret?

"Don’t," he said, his voice low, barely a whisper, but filled with weight. "You don’t know me."

The words hit harder than you expected. It wasn’t just a warning—it felt like a barrier he was building, keeping you at a distance. His eyes softened for a second, and you saw the familiar pain in them.

You let out a bitter chuckle, the sound carrying a mix of pain and disbelief. "You sought me out before I could reach the real fight," you said, your words laced with a sharp irony. "My Bucky always did that too."

A brief flicker of something—recognition, maybe, or even a hint of guilt—flashed across his face. He took a step back, eyes shifting uneasily, as if your words had hit too close to something he'd buried. The Bucky you knew, the one you had once loved and fought alongside, always had a way of showing up at the most unexpected times, protecting you before you could make your own move. Always trying to keep you safe from the dangers that loomed ahead.

He exhaled sharply, as if your words had caught him off guard. For a moment, he looked like he was about to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he glanced down at the ground.

"When you're low, come here. I'll guard you," Bucky said, his voice low but steady, as he gently reached out and touched the side of your face. His touch was soft, almost tentative, like he was afraid you'd pull away—or maybe like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to be this close to you again.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to stop, the air between you thick with unspoken emotions. His hand, warm and familiar, lingered on your cheek, the simple gesture bringing back memories of all the times he had done the same, when everything felt easier, when you both knew where you stood. But now, with everything that had changed, it was different. There was a tension in the air, like both of you were trying to figure out if there was still a place for that tenderness in this new reality.

Your heart skipped a beat at the feeling of his touch—this Bucky, from whatever universe or path he had come, was still the one you knew in some way, the one you remembered. And yet, the distance between you was greater than ever before.

His thumb gently brushed over your skin, his eyes searching yours for something—maybe a sign that it was okay, that it was still you he was touching. And maybe it was—maybe the Bucky you knew still existed somewhere beneath the hardened surface, just waiting to be reached.

[kalixora]

Bounty pt 3

It had been close to a year since you joined the Autobots, but you rarely engaged in combat unless it was a life-threatening situation. Most of the time, you focused on training the other Autobots and your hounds, teaching them where to improve and honing their skills.

Finally, a critical mission arrived, and Optimus called you for backup against Megatron. You and your hounds swiftly passed through the ground bridge, arriving at the battlefield ahead.

“Sick ’em,” you commanded in Cybertronian, your hounds responding instantly by rushing towards the battlefield. You followed closely behind them, switching your servo to a cannon and narrowing one optic as you focused your aim from a distance, targeting whomever was your vision.

Optimus spotted you—again. His optics flicked in your direction, a brief glance amidst the chaos of the battlefield. But it wasn’t the first time. His gaze had lingered more than once, always circling back to you as if he needed confirmation you were still standing.

You gritted your denta. Focus, Prime. Stop looking at me. He was supposed to be leading, fighting—not checking on you like some fragile protoform.

The sharp, gravelly laughter of Megatron sliced through the noise. Your sensors twitched at the sound, locking onto his massive frame as he charged toward Optimus with terrifying force and speed, like a living missile of rage and war.

The ground trembled with the impact as the two titans clashed, brutal blow after brutal blow. Megatron didn’t let up, pounding relentlessly until Optimus staggered backward, boots scraping the rocky incline. His footing faltered.

“SCRAP—OPTIMUS!” Smokescreen’s shout broke your focus as a flash of blue light burst from his blaster. You turned just in time to see it veer off course—direct hit. The bolt slammed into the side of Optimus’s helmet, sparks flying.

Your spark leapt.

You didn’t think—just reacted. You raised your weapon and fired at Megatron, catching him in the side. It barely slowed him. But then—

A blur of fur and fury. Your hound, the largest of your companions, launched himself onto the Decepticon leader. Claws dug in, jaws snapping as Megatron reeled, crashing into Optimus. Your second shot hit its mark just as they collided, the explosion blasting them both off the ledge.

The terrain groaned. Then crumbled.

The rockface split beneath them, a jagged maw opening up as both warlords—and your hound—plummeted into the shadowed drop below.

Your optics widened. “No—” The word tore from your throat before you were even aware of running.

You sprinted, but Bulkhead tackled you mid-stride, slamming you to the ground. Bumblebee grabbed your arm, holding fast as you writhed beneath them.

“Get off me!” you growled, struggling. “Move!”

But they didn’t.

“It’s too risky,” Bumblebee beeped, his tones strained with panic and restraint.

You glared at them, fury in your optics. “He went down there with them. I have to go!”

Bulkhead’s voice was low, almost apologetic. “And if you go down too, we might lose you.”

The silence that followed was deafening—punctuated only by the distant crashing of falling stone and the haunting echo of the fight lost to the chasm.

⸻

“Lose me?” you scoffed, voice laced with bitter disbelief. “Bulkhead, the war has your sensors scrambled. I will stand with you, yes—but never beside you.”

He froze, expression faltering just for a second. That line cut deeper than your blaster ever could.

“That’s a load of scrap,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible over the hum of static in the comms.

You turned your optics sharply. “Pardon?” your tone sharp as serrated steel. “Speak louder, Autobot.”

Bulkhead’s fist clenched. “That’s a load of SCRAP!” he snapped, voice rising with the weight of everything he couldn’t say until now. “You think you’re the only one who cares? You think you’re the only one who’s lost someone? You act like you’re above all of us—but we bleed too! We fight too!”

Your chassis heaved with restrained rage, but there was a flicker—just a flicker—of something else behind your optics.

“You hold onto that superiority like it’s armor,” Bulkhead continued, breathing heavy, “but all it’s doing is isolating you. We’re not your enemy. We never were.”

Bumblebee’s helm turned back and forth between you both, the tension almost too thick to bear.

You swallowed hard, but your voice came out low, sharp. “I don’t need allies who hesitate. My hound could be dead. Optimus could be dead.”

“You think we don’t know that?” Bulkhead hissed. “You think we don’t feel that weight too? But rushing into a pit blindly doesn’t save anyone—it just gives the Decepticons another corpse to throw on the fire.”

You pushed yourself halfway up, eyes narrowing. “You think this is about you? About your war?” you spat. “I don’t give a damn about your Autobot cause—or Megatron’s chaos. I never have.”

Your voice lowered, fiercer now, raw. “I fight for them. My hounds. The only ones who never lied to me. Never used me. Not like this scrapheap war between you and them.”

Bulkhead opened his mouth, but you cut him off.

“I raised them with my own hands. Pulled them out of scrap piles, oil-starved and spark-flickering. You? You had teams. Bases. Brothers. I had silence and rust and them. And now one of them is down there—maybe dying—because I trusted someone outside of them.”

Your optics flicked, the rage cracking—revealing something else.

“Because he told me there was more,” you admitted, just above a whisper. “That I didn’t have to do this alone. That maybe… maybe there was a place for me beyond the hunter I was built to be.”

Bumblebee shifted, quieting, watching you carefully.

You exhaled, heavy and bitter. “And now I don’t even know if I’ll ever get the chance to tell him that I believed him.”

Bulkhead looked at you differently now. Not as an outsider. Not as a threat. But as someone on the edge of loss. Just like them.

“Then we go after them,” he said quietly, stepping back. “But together.”

—

Below the cliff…

The world had gone silent.

Dust hung thick in the air, illuminated by the flickering embers of stray energon and fractured terrain. A groan rumbled low through the ravine as shifting metal stirred from the wreckage.

Optimus lay half-buried beneath a fallen slab of rock, energon dripping slowly from a tear in his side. His optics flickered—dim, but active. Systems struggling to stabilize.

Across from him, Megatron had fared worse. Smoke curled from the torn plating of his chest, his cannon sparking violently from the impact. But even now, even wounded, his optics burned red.

Between them… was your hound.

Your largest and most loyal beast, his massive form panting with strain as he tried to rise. One leg was bent wrong, crushed beneath fallen stone. But his eyes—bright and unwavering—remained locked on Optimus.

A low growl rumbled from his throat as he stood, protecting the Prime.

Optimus stirred, trying to rise, hand pressed to the wound on his side. “Easy,” he rasped to the hound, voice weak but steady. “You’ve done enough.”

The hound didn’t budge. He stayed between the two leaders, growling low every time Megatron twitched.

Megatron spat a glob of energon to the side. “Still clinging to your pets, Prime?” he sneered, his voice ragged. “How… sentimental.”

But the hound barked sharply—loud, fierce. A warning.

Optimus grunted as he pulled himself upright, plating scraped and dented, energon still leaking from his side. His optics locked on Megatron—worn, weathered… but not defeated.

The hound stayed rooted in place, lips curled, stance ready to lunge if needed.

Megatron shifted, gears grinding as he propped himself against a shattered boulder. “Don’t waste your breath, Prime,” he spat. “I didn’t come here for teamwork.”

Optimus didn’t flinch.

“If we want to make it out of this place,” he said, voice heavy but resolute, “we need to do it together, Megatron.”

The air held still, crackling with silence.

Megatron stared at him, optics unreadable.

“Together?” he repeated with venom. “You’d stand beside me now—after everything?”

Optimus nodded once, his expression unchanging. “Not as allies. Not as enemies. But as survivors. For now.”

Megatron’s optics narrowed. He looked at the hound still guarding Optimus, then up at the rim of the cliff where your shadow had just appeared—fury in your stride, weapon ready, eyes only on your hound.

The Decepticon warlord chuckled darkly, resting his head back against the stone.

“This day grows more absurd by the minute.”

Crumbling edge of the ravine just as Megatron finished his sneer. You didn’t wait. The second your optics locked onto your hound—wounded, growling, standing guard—you jumped.

Bulkhead shouted behind you. Bumblebee beeped in alarm.

But you were already falling.

You hit the ground hard, rolling over shattered stone before landing in a crouch, blaster drawn, eyes locked on Megatron. Your hound turned, limping toward you with a pitiful whine that shattered the fire behind your eyes.

“Easy, girl,” you murmured, rushing to your wounded hound, wrapping an arm around her thick neck. You looked her over, hands shaking. “You stubborn scrap-eater. You held your ground.”

The hound whined again and nuzzled your side, panting.

Optimus watched you silently, one hand pressed to his wound. He made no move—just looked at you. That same way he always did. Not like a soldier. Not like a Prime.

But like he cared.

“Optimus,” you snapped without looking at him, voice hard. “Are you functional?”

“I will manage,” he replied quietly.

Your eyes flicked to Megatron, who was smirking despite the scorch across his chest.

“Oh good,” you growled. “Then you can both tell me why you had to drag my hound into this.”

Megatron laughed—low and hoarse. “He threw himself in. Loyal little monster.”

You stood slowly, placing yourself fully between the Decepticon and your hound. “Megatron. You’ve seen, better days. Allow me to put you out of your misery now.”

Optimus raised a hand—not to stop you, but to speak.

“There is no point in further bloodshed,” he said. “We need to get out of here before this place buries us.”

You exhaled through your nose, eyes still burning.

“I’m not here for your cause, Prime,” you muttered. “I’m not here for his either. I came for her.” You motioned to your hound. “And maybe I came for you too.”

Optimus looked at you then—not with judgment. But with something gentler. Something that made you want to look away and hold eye contact all at once.

“I know,” he said softly.

You glanced at the shifting rocks overhead. “Then let’s move. Before the whole mountain decides to finish what you two started.”

The climb out was rough—stone crumbled underfoot, and the incline was steep, but none of it mattered. Not with your hound limping beside you and the weight of everything unsaid pressing harder than the terrain.

Bulkhead and Bumblebee met you halfway down the ledge, helping to secure a makeshift line to lift Megatron—unconscious now—and ease him toward a neutral drop zone. The truce held, fragile and temporary. But it held.

You paused partway up the path, optics scanning the injured Prime just a few paces behind. He was silent, focused. But you knew he was hurting—more than just the visible wounds.

You waited until it was just the two of you, with the others ahead tending to your hound and clearing the last section of debris.

“I didn’t ask for this,” you said quietly, still facing the rocks ahead.

Optimus’s voice came gently behind you. “Neither did I.”

You turned slightly, just enough to catch his gaze. “I’m not one of your Autobots. I never was. You know that.”

“I do.”

“I was fine on my own. Me, my hounds. I didn’t need your missions. Your cause. Your speeches.” Your voice cracked slightly—just enough to betray you.

He said nothing.

“I didn’t need… anyone.” You let the words hang in the air, bitter on your tongue. “But then you looked at me like I was worth saving. Like I was… more than a weapon.”

Optimus’s voice dipped lower, calm and honest. “Because you do.”

“Why?” you asked, almost desperately. “Why do you care? I’ve shot at your soldiers. I’ve walked away when I could’ve helped. I’ve made it very clear I’m not one of you.”

“Because I see you,” he said, stepping closer. “Not the bounty hunter. Not the threat. You. The one who chose compassion in a world that taught you not to. The one who fights like she’s alone, but still puts herself between danger and those she loves.”

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath.

“Even when you push others away,” he added, “you’re still fighting for something bigger than yourself. You just haven’t let yourself admit it yet.”

Your hands clenched at your sides. You wanted to refute him. Wanted to push him away again. But the words didn’t come.

Because deep down… you knew he was right.

“I’ve been alone a long time, Prime,” you whispered, barely audible. “It’s safer that way.”

“I know,” he said, and his voice softened like something precious breaking open. “But you don’t have to be anymore.”

Your hound pressed her head gently against your leg again, and you blinked back something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Warmth.

Not just survival. Not duty. But family. Another kind of family,

And this time, you didn’t pull away.

“I’m not joining your war,” you said, voice steady but quiet. His servo extended to yours—quiet, steady, open.

You stared at it.

The metal was worn, scratched from battle and time, streaked with dried energon and dust. Not the hand of a myth. Not some perfect symbol of hope.

Just a mech who had seen too much. Lost too much. Survived it anyway.

Your gaze lifted to his optics. They weren’t blazing with command or conviction like they were in battle. They were calm. Soft. Patient.

He didn’t pressure you.

He just… waited.

Your hand hovered in the space between you, uncertainty rattling your spark. You didn’t do this. You didn’t reach. You survived. You endured. You trusted only the things you raised with your own hands—your hounds, your weapons, your instincts.

But something about this…

Something about him..

You slowly placed your servo into his.

His digits closed around yours—gentle, but solid. The contact was warm. Not physically, maybe, but it felt warm. Grounding. Steady in a way the world rarely was.

And just for a second… you let yourself feel it.

Not weakness.

Not surrender.

Just connection.

He looked at you, optics searching yours.

“You are not defined by what you’ve walked away from,” Optimus said, his voice low. “You are defined by what you choose to walk toward.”

Your grip tightened, just slightly. “Then maybe… maybe I’ll walk a little further with you.”

A flicker of something—relief?—moved behind his gaze.

You stood in silence for a moment, together. No longer enemies. Not quite allies. But something that mattered more.

[kalixora]

HIIII IM PRETTY NEW AND I LOVEDDDDD YOUR TFP BOUNTY THINGY AND I JUST WANTED TO KNOW IF YOU WERE MAKING IT LIKE A SERIES OR WHAT..😔

HEYYYY WELCOME💜

Ngl I have it in my drafts I just never published it and it’s unfinished, but I will finish it and post it in a few days 🙂‍↕️

[kalixora]

How it feels going to bed after reading some words

It was angst

[kalixora]

I need more of this man! MORE OF THIS MAN RIGHT HEREEE! I can’t get enough of the edits of him and now I need for scenarios/headcannons, so PLEASE! 🙏🏽 write more of him

[kalixora]

[if your seeing this twice— it’s me😭]

𝓜𝓮𝓵𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰

The room was buzzing with low conversation, the kind that filled the space with a comforting hum. The lights were dimmed, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. The fire in the hearth crackled softly, adding a gentle heat that made the room feel cozy and intimate. You were seated on one of the plush leather couches, surrounded by the X-Men and a few others. A half-empty glass of something strong sat on the table in front of you, the alcohol giving your cheeks a rosy tint and making you feel a bit more relaxed than usual.

You’d spent the earlier part of the evening with the students, their eager faces lit up as they sat around you, watching Avatar. You’d told them all about how much you loved the movie, how you’d seen it countless times, and how you’d even learned to speak Na’vi. They’d been impressed, their eyes wide as you spoke a few lines in the language, your words flowing smoothly, effortlessly. The kids had been hooked, watching the screen with rapt attention as you translated some of the dialogue for them, making the experience even more magical.

But now, hours later, you were back with the adults, and the conversation had shifted to more casual topics. Gambit had been teasing you on and off, his playful remarks coming one after another, his Cajun accent making every word sound like a challenge. “Ain’t it somethin’, how much you love them blue aliens, chérie?” he said with a smirk, leaning back in his chair, one eyebrow raised as he looked at you.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way his teasing made your pulse quicken. The alcohol was starting to make your head buzz, and you knew you were probably blushing, but you couldn’t help it. “Say what you want, I love that movie,” you replied, your words slightly slurred, but your tone firm.

“Oh, we know,” Scott interjected, chuckling. “The kids can’t stop talking about it. Surprised you don’t know the language.”

Gambit grinned, leaning forward, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Bet she’s got a Na’vi dictionary under her pillow,” he quipped, causing a few others to laugh.

The teasing was all in good fun, but you could feel the warmth of the alcohol pushing you past your usual patience. Gambit’s smirk was infuriating, and the way his eyes danced with amusement made your irritation spike. Without thinking, you snapped back in Na’vi, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. “Eywa ayngahu kalweyaveng.”

[Fuck yourself bitch]

For a moment, the room went quiet. Then, Rouge burst out laughing, clutching her sides as she looked at you in surprise. “Good gosh sugar, I think she just cussed you out.”

Gambit’s eyes widened in mock shock, a hand going to his chest as if he were offended, but the smirk never left his face. “Now, now, chérie, no need to get all riled up. What did I say?” His voice was dripping with playful innocence, but you could see the spark of challenge in his eyes.

The alcohol had loosened your tongue, and the warmth of the fire and the low light of the room only made everything feel more intense. With the mix of emotions and alcohol, the laughter that filled your ears didn’t feel right anymore. What had started as lighthearted teasing now twisted in your mind, making your stomach tingle with unease, and your palms grew sweaty as the moment replayed over and over in your head. You really liked Remy—more than you cared to admit—and right now, it felt like he was making fun of you.

The sound of everyone’s laughter echoed around the room, but it didn’t reach you in the same way. Instead of joining in, you felt a lump forming in your throat, a heavy, uncomfortable feeling settling in your chest. You knew it was silly to take it so seriously, but the alcohol had blurred the lines between playful banter and something more personal. You glanced over at Remy, his smirk still plastered on his face, and your heart sank.

Why did it have to be him? Out of everyone here, why did it have to be Remy who was laughing at you? The one person whose opinion mattered to you more than anyone else's. His teasing, which usually made you smile, now felt like a jab, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was mocking you, even though you knew deep down he probably didn’t mean it that way.

But the alcohol whispered different things in your ear, feeding your insecurities and amplifying every emotion. Your fingers tightened around your glass, the coolness of it grounding you slightly, but not enough to dispel the wave of hurt that was building. You looked down, avoiding his gaze, the firelight dancing on the rim of your drink as you tried to push the feelings away.

The laughter started to die down, but the tension in your chest only grew. You bit your lip, trying to suppress the emotions that were threatening to spill over. The last thing you wanted was to make a scene, to let anyone, especially Remy, see how much his teasing had gotten to you. But the more you tried to swallow it down, the more it bubbled up, threatening to burst out in ways you couldn’t control.

“Chérie, you alright?” Remy’s voice broke through your thoughts, his tone still light but with a hint of concern as he leaned closer, noticing the change in your demeanor. His proximity made your heart race, but now it wasn’t just because of your feelings for him. It was the mix of embarrassment and hurt, the fear that maybe he didn’t see you the way you saw him.

You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled, your voice betraying you as it cracked slightly.

He frowned, his eyes narrowing as he studied you more closely. “You sure? You look—”

“I said I’m fine, Remy,” you cut him off a little too sharply, quickly regretting it as the words left your mouth. The room fell silent, as everyone turned to look at you.

Remy’s expression softened, but there was confusion in his eyes now, and maybe even a hint of hurt. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said quietly, his voice sincere, the teasing tone now gone.

The knot in your chest tightened, and you felt the sting of tears welling up, but you fought them back. “It’s fine,” you repeated, trying to sound convincing, but even you didn’t believe it.

The others exchanged glances, sensing the tension, but not knowing how to diffuse it. The warmth of the fire that had felt comforting earlier now felt stifling, the room too small, too hot, too overwhelming.

You set your glass down on the table, your movements stiff. “I think I need some air,” you said, pushing yourself up from the couch. The sudden movement made your head spin, but you steadied yourself, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you headed toward the door.

“Wait Sugar—“ Rouge tried to grab your arm but you moved away waving her off.

“Y/N—” Remy started to say something, but you didn’t let him finish.

You just shook your head and walked out, the cool air outside hitting you like a wave. You leaned against the wall, closing your eyes as you tried to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

You knew you were overreacting, that it was the alcohol and your feelings for Remy messing with your head, but that didn’t make it any easier. The pain was real, even if it didn’t make sense, and all you could do was hope that he didn’t follow you out, because right now, you weren’t sure you could hold it together if he did.

The cool night air hit your face, sharp and refreshing, but it did little to soothe the turmoil inside you. You leaned against the brick wall just outside the door, closing your eyes as you took deep, steadying breaths. The sounds of the city—cars passing, distant voices—felt far away, muffled by the pounding of your heart in your ears. You tried to replay the scene in your head, rationalize it, but the hurt still lingered, stinging your pride and your feelings more than you wanted to admit.

You were angry with yourself for letting it get to you, for letting your emotions and the alcohol twist something harmless into something painful. And yet, no matter how much you tried to tell yourself it was all in your head, the sensation of being laughed at by the one person you admired most wouldn’t leave.

The door behind you creaked open, and you tensed, knowing without looking who it was. The footsteps were soft, hesitant, and when Remy’s voice came, it was low, careful. “Chérie, can we talk?”

You didn’t respond at first, just kept your eyes closed, willing your emotions to settle. But you could feel his presence, the warmth of him standing close, the way he always seemed to draw you in without even trying.

“Y/N,” he said again, more gently, and the way he said your name made something inside you soften, just a little.

Finally, you opened your eyes, looking at him. He was standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, a worried expression on his face. It was a look you weren’t used to seeing on him—Remy was always so confident, so sure of himself—but now, he seemed uncertain, maybe even a little nervous.

“What do you want, Remy?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the sharpness gone but the hurt still evident.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he said, taking a small step closer. “You looked upset back there. I didn’t mean to push it too far.”

You sighed, looking down at the ground. “I’m fine, really. I just… I guess I didn’t find it as funny as everyone else did.”

He was silent for a moment, and when you finally looked up, you saw that he was watching you closely, his eyes searching yours. “It wasn’t about making fun of you, chérie,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just… you know, teasing. I didn’t realize it was bothering you.”

“I know,” you said, rubbing your temples, feeling the tension there. “It’s not your fault. I think I just… I don’t know. Maybe I took it the wrong way because—”

You stopped yourself, the words catching in your throat.

Remy seemed to pick up on your hesitation, his expression softening even more. “Because?” he prompted gently, his voice coaxing, but not pushing.

You swallowed hard, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “Because I like you, okay?” The words came out faster than you intended, your voice trembling slightly. “I like you a lot, and I guess… I guess it just felt like you were making fun of me, and that hurt. Avatar the movie… that movie means a whole lot to me and it really got me through so dark times and I— this is so stupid…”

“Non, it’s not stupid,” he interrupted, his tone firm but kind. He took another step closer, close enough now that you could see the concern in his eyes. “I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. Teasing’s just my way of… well, I guess it’s my way of flirtin’ ” He gave a small, sheepish smile. “Maybe not the best way, but it’s the only way I know how sometimes.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit. “Flirting?” you repeated, almost disbelieving.

He chuckled softly, nodding. “Yeah. Gambit didn’t do such a great job if it made ya feel like this, though.” He reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently taking your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I didn’t know you felt the same way, chérie. I would’ve… I don’t know, tried a little harder, maybe.”

The warmth of his touch, the gentleness in his voice, made your breath catch. It was like all the confusion and hurt from before was slowly melting away, replaced by a different kind of heat, one that had your heart racing for a whole new reason.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, squeezing his hand lightly. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said softly, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between you. “I’m the one who should’ve been more careful. I don’t want to make you feel bad. Ever.”

For a moment, you just stood there, the cool night air around you, the warmth of his hand in yours, and the soft sounds of the city in the background. Everything felt more grounded, more real, [despite the buzz] now that you knew where you both stood.

“So,” Remy said after a beat, his voice lighter, a hint of that familiar playful tone returning, “how do I make it up to you, hmm? Maybe you could teach me that language hm chére? I’d love to know what you called me back there.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Well— I kinda said to F off…”

“Oh,” Gambit replied with a laugh. “Une jolie bouche comme la vôtre peut devenir méchante.”

You stared up at him with a confusion, “What?”

“Guess Gambit’s gotta teach ya some words too.”

“I’d like that.”

And with that, the two of you stood there, hand in hand, the awkwardness from before fading into something softer, something warmer. All you could focus on was him—the way his hand felt in yours, the way his eyes never left your face, and the way he made you feel like maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something real.

[kalixora]

Get behind me Andy!

[kalixora]

Tfp Bumblebee x reader

Summary:

A skilled autobot sniper, frustrated by their lack of hand-to-hand combat abilities and hidden feelings for Bumblebee, trains intensely to prove themselves, while the team offers support, unaware of the sniper's inner conflict.

1/2

Once again, Bumblebee saved you from cons. You grumbled walking back to base, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. You weren’t the weakest but definitely not the strongest, not like the wreckers with their brute strength or quick like Arcee with her agility.

You were a sniper, skilled at taking down enemies from a distance. Your strength lay in your ability to blend into the shadows, moving silently and striking precisely.

However, in hand-to-hand combat, you often found yourself at a disadvantage, unlike Bumblebee, who excelled in it.

“You okay, N/N?” Raf asked you with a smile.

“I need to train,” you answered back with a low groan.

“He saved you again, didn’t he?” Raf snickered, closing his laptop.

“I don’t wanna hear it—“

Raf laughed, “N/N! It’s okay! You’re a stealth scout, not a brawler. You play to your strengths.”

You sighed, leaning against the wall. “I know, I just need to be able to handle myself in a fight alone.”

Raf nodded thoughtfully. “You know, maybe you could ask Bulkhead for some training. He’s tough and knows his way around a fight.”

“You rolled your optics. “I’m not asking that jumbo bot for nothing. I’d rather suffer.”

“You’re suffering now,” Raf remarked gently. “Why does it bother you so much that Bumblebee helps you? You guys are on the same team after all.”

You looked away, frustration and embarrassment heating your face plate as you stormed off to the training room. In your hurry, you accidentally bumped into Ratchet, causing him to drop his toolbox with a clatter.

“Y/N! I needed that!” he shouted after you.

“I need to train!” you shouted back, your voice echoing down the corridor as you continued on your way.

“Geez, what’s her damage?” Ratchet muttered to himself, shaking his head in confusion as he picked up his things.

“Bumblebee saved her and asked for a bridge back, and she’s upset,” Raf explained with concern in his voice.

“She’s one of the best weapon specialists in the making. What does Bumblebee have on her?”

“Hand-to-hand combat,” Raf replied softly, recalling the many times you’d voiced your frustration over it. Ratchet raised his optical ridge and let out a gruff chuckle. “Seriously? That’s it?”

Raf sighed, sensing the weight of your struggle. “I’m starting to feel a little bad, Ratchet—“

“There’s no need, Rafael,” Ratchet interrupted. “Y/N’s feelings for Bumblebee are the only reason she feels she needs to be better.”

“Wait—Y/N has feelings for Bee?” Raf repeated, surprised.

“Always, it was plainly obvious,” Ratchet shrugged, moving towards his work station. “She’s too stubborn to admit it, so it’s not my problem to solve.”

Raf hesitated, considering the revelation. “Maybe I can help…”

“Good luck with that. Just leave me out of it,” Ratchet waved Raf off, already engrossed in his work.

Meanwhile, in the training room, you continued to focus on your drills, unaware of the discussion unfolding outside.

As Raf pondered how to approach the situation, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of responsibility towards helping you navigate your feelings. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to find a way to support you, even if Ratchet preferred to stay out of it.

The ground bridge opened, and the other Autobots came in, all of them seeming cheerful and in good spirits.

“Oh man—and the way I took down that con was awesome! I wish Miko was there; she would’ve loved it,” Bulkhead exclaimed.

“Jack would’ve been screaming his poor lungs out if he saw that,” Arcee chuckled. “But I really gotta hand it to you, Smokescreen. You’ve improved a lot out there. I’m impressed.”

Smokescreen rubbed the back of his helm. “Ah, well, what can I say? I was made a natural talent. Kinda like you, Bee.”

Bumblebee whirled with excitement, exchanging high-fives with the others before heading over to Raf.

“Hey Raf! Where’s Y/N? I gotta show her something I found before she left,” Bumblebee beeped and whirred in his unique language.

Raf nodded and pointed to the corridor. “She’s in the training room, oh and Bee, she’s a little upset right now, so be a little easy on her.”

Bumblebee nodded, concern flashing in his optics. He headed towards the training room at a light jog. Entering the room, he saw you in the middle of your drills. “Y/N,” Bumblebee beeped softly, trying to catch your attention without startling you. “I found something cool I wanted to show you.”

You paused mid-strike, turning to see Bumblebee standing there, his optics shining with genuine excitement. The frustration you felt earlier mingled with a sense of warmth at seeing him.

“What is it, Bee?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bumblebee held out a small, intricate piece of Cybertronian tech, something rare and valuable. “I thought you might like this. Optimus said it’s a tool used by the old weapon specialists back on Cybertron. I found it in the wreckage during the mission before you left.”

Your optics widened in surprise and curiosity as you took the item from Bumblebee’s outstretched servo. “I haven’t seen this before, Bee. Thank you.”

Bumblebee smiled, glad to see a spark of happiness in your optics. “Why are you training? Aren’t you tired?”

You looked down at the tool, trying to hide the mix of emotions swirling within you. “I just… I need to get better. For myself.”

Bumblebee tilted his helm, a concerned whir escaping him. “But why?”

You hesitated, your face plate becoming warm, you turned your helm away. “I just have a lot to prove, so you don’t have to keep risking your neck to save me all the time.”

Bumblebee placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I’m always here to help.”

You nodded, feeling a bit lighter. “Thanks, Bee. That means a lot coming from you, but— I need to work harder.”

You nudged Bee’s shoulder away then gave him a meek smile before walking out.

Bee stood in the room slightly lost, “Was it something I said?” He beeped.

. . .

A few days later, the others hardly saw you. The only times they did was when you were going into recharge or going on missions with Optimus after much begging that they obviously didn’t know.

You stood in the middle of a field waiting for Optimus to ground bridge to you so you could continue your training with him.

“What’s taking so long—“

The ground bridge opened out came not Optimus but Bumblebee and the others.

You froze in place as you saw Smokescreen waving at you with a smug expression.

“Scrap,” you muttered as you crossed your arms.

“Sorry to crash your date N/N, Optimus wanted us to tell you that he got stuck doing something with Agent Frowler.”

“Rude, how dare you ruin our alone time,” you rolled your optics with a smirk on your face plate.

“So you gonna tell us why you’ve been with Optimus so much or do we have to guess?” Arcee asked walking up closer to you.

“Nothing really, just extra training and learning how to use this tech Bumblebee gave me,” you answered truthfully, showing Arcee your sniper with the added tech while switching your servo.

“Ooh, Knockout was going crazy for that thing. I’m shocked you managed to grab it, Bee,” Bulkhead chuckled. “Nice! We are freakin’ awesome.”

Smokescreen and Bulkhead high-fived each other while Bumblebee laughed, and Arcee smiled, placing her hand on her hip.

You turned around and walked further into the field, a scowl on your faceplate. The further you went into the field you saw a small rock poking out off to the side. You walked closer to it unsure of what it what, still hearing the laughter and banter behind you didn’t bother to turn around.

Hearing footsteps behind you, you looked over your shoulder pad seeing Bumblebee. He gave you a small friendly wave before beeping, “What’s that?”

[kalixora]

Bounty PT2

[Back at Base]

“Why don’t you join the Autobots?” a little human girl named Miko asked you, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"I have mouths to feed and no time for pity parties," you answered, crossing your arms. Your hounds rested on the floor, while your largest stayed by your side, warily watching Ratchet, the medic Optimus assured the both of you to trust.

"But the Autobots are the good guys! You’re a good guy, you take the bad guys!" Miko exclaimed dramatically, her enthusiasm unwavering.

The sound of your youngest hound whimpering as the medic worked filled your helm. Your largest hound growled, but you quickly waved your servo, making them stop.

"Always fighting, always leaving a mess behind," you muttered, frustration evident in your voice. "Where we have to clean it up. Planets destroyed, so many species, lives taken because—"

"Of the cons!" Miko interrupted. You looked at the human girl eyeing her coldly. "No," you shook your helm slowly. "Autobots and Decepticons. They’re both to blame."

Miko looked taken aback, glancing between you and the Autobots. Miko’s eyes landed on Arcee who stared at the ground, looking away from you.

Optimus lowered his gaze, the weight of your words hitting home as Ratchet continued to fix your hound while grumbling under his breath.

Your youngest hound whimpered again, your optics shifting to the medic, you let out a soft pitch and spoke a few words in cybertrioan from where you stood, and your youngest became calm.

"This endless war," you continued, your voice firm but no less intense, "it affects everyone. Not just those on the front lines. Someone has to deal with the aftermath, and it’s people like me who get stuck with that job."

Optimus stepped closer, his voice calm yet resolute. "We strive to protect and restore, but I understand your perspective. The war has taken a toll on many, and for that, I am truly sorry."

You looked up at him, meeting his optics with a mixture of anger and resignation. "Sorry doesn’t fix what’s broken," you said quietly, standing up. "My hound was shot; it was a scrappy attempt at ending his life. Imagine a child's blood on your hands, in front of his mother. This is the first hound to be born after so many missed cycles. How would your Autobots feel if your leader lost their life over a misunderstanding?"

Optimus's optics dimmed slightly, the weight of your words sinking in. "We understand the gravity of what has happened," he said solemnly. "It was never our intention to cause such harm."

Miko watched you, her face unsure and conflicted, struggling to grasp the depth of your anger.

"You have to understand," you continued, "this isn’t just about sides. It’s about the innocent lives caught in the crossfire, the collateral damage that doesn’t get fixed with apologies."

Optimus nodded, his expression serious. "You’re right. We must do better. Strive to protect all life.”

You tilted your helm toward the Prime, noticing how he stood to block your view of Arcee.

Optimus shifted his optics to your hound standing beside you and knelt down before her. “I am sorry. Forgive them, as your hatred should be targeted towards me.”

Your hound snarled, baring its teeth and getting into an attack position. The other hounds stood up, shaking their heads before beginning to circle the kneeling Prime, a low growl resonating among them.

“What’s happening?” Miko asked, peering from beside your feet. “Are they gonna hurt him?”

“No, this is revenge,” Arcee said, narrowing her optics at you.

You watched the scene unfold, the tension thick in the air. “If it were revenge, you would have been dead, on the spot.” you said.

Optimus remained still, his optics unwavering. “Do what you must,” he said, his voice steady. “But know that my actions come from a desire to protect. I ask only that you spare my team from further harm.”

Your hounds paused, their growls still rumbling but their eyes flicking to you for direction. You could sense the resolve in Optimus’s optics, the genuine regret in his words.

You sighed deeply, the anger warring within you. "This war has taken too much from too many," you said. "But maybe it’s time for a different path."

With a slight gesture, you signaled your hounds to stand down. They hesitated but obeyed, moving back to your side.

Miko let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. "Thank you," she whispered, looking up at you with a mix of relief and admiration.

Optimus rose to his feet, his optics meeting your hound. "Your mercy is not unnoticed. We will strive to be better, for all affected by this war."

"All done," Ratchet said with an unamused laugh. "He needs rest. Should be able to do—whatever it is that you all do—in the morning. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going into recharge."

"That’s a first," Miko giggled.

You walked over to the medic table and smiled as you placed your servo on your hound’s head. "Thank the All-Spark…"

Arcee headed out of the area with Smokescreen and Bumblebee trailing behind her. The Wreckers and Ultra Magnus stayed put, watching you as you remained by the medic table.

Wheeljack crossed his arms, his optics narrowing. "How’d you become a bounty hunter, anyway? Was there a class or something? And what’s with all the hounds? You an animal lover, or are they just tools for the job?"

Ultra Magnus stepped forward, his presence imposing. "Surely you can provide more than a simple answer. Your skills are exceptional. There must be a story behind them."

"They’re not just animals—they’re my partners, my family. In a galaxy full of mess, they’re the ones I can rely on."

Bulkhead optics flickered with a mix of skepticism, you didn’t answer the question fully. "Guess that makes sense. Out here, you need all the help you can get. But don’t think for a second that trusting us is the wrong move. We’ve got your back if you’re willing to give us a chance. That is…"

You glanced at your hounds, now resting peacefully, with your largest still faithfully at your side.

As the Autobots slowly dispersed, you remained by the medic table, feeling a cautious hope for the future.

"Is it just me, or did Optimus give her a look?" Miko said, perched on Bulkhead’s shoulder as they watched Optimus turn to face you again.

"Not now, Miko," Bulkhead sighed.

"Let me guess, you want me to stay and fight for your cause?" you questioned the Prime, your tone tinged with skepticism.

“Only if you choose to,” Optimus said calmly, his optics steady. “But the cause is for our home, for Cybertron.”

“That so? The line has been blurred for a while now, hard to tell if it’s still for Cybertron,” you replied, folding your arms across your chest.

Optimus took a few deliberate steps closer, standing shoulder to shoulder with you. His presence was commanding yet reassuring. “It has always been for Cybertron,” he asserted firmly.

You glanced at him, studying him. Despite your doubts, you couldn’t deny the sincerity in his words.

“And what if I choose not to fight alongside you?”

“Then that is your choice,” Optimus replied evenly. “But know that our offer of alliance and support stands, should you ever decide otherwise.”

“That so?” You hummed. “Let me ask you this then Optimus, do you want us to stay?”

Optimus looked at you, his optics staring into yours with unwavering sincerity. “Yes,” he said simply. You raised an optic ridge, surprised by his straightforwardness.

“I’ll make a decision by dawn,” you replied. “You should rest, Prime. Another day of fighting Decepticons can be draining, I’m sure.”

Optimus nodded, appreciating your understanding. “Thank you. I look forward to your decision.”

. . .

“I’m telling you, I saw it! With my own two eyes! Optimus definitely has a crush on her!” Miko insisted.

“Get real, Miko. Optimus is too busy for stuff like that,” Jake rolled his eyes.

“No one’s ever too busy for love!” Miko said, clasping her hands together. “Right, Bulk?”

Everyone exchanged glances as they waited in the training room for Optimus to return.

“Please, Optimus knows better than to get involved with a bounty hunter of all people. She doesn’t believe in any sides of the war, as if it wasn’t the Decepticons who started it,” Ratchet huffed. “Making me fix her hound was just absurd. Couldn’t she have done it herself? What kind of person doesn’t know how to fix their animal?”

“… You think she has a bounty for Optimus?” Smokescreen questioned.

“No,” Ultra Magnus shook his helm. “She would’ve killed him in front of us if that were the case.”

“She has a young hound, right? Maybe it’s not ready to fight yet,” Raf said, leaning against the wall with a contemplative look.

“Pft, wish you guys would’ve called for backup. I would’ve ended Miss Sunshine on the spot,” WheelJack chuckled, his bulky frame vibrating with suppressed energy as he pounded his fists together.

Ultra Magus glanced at WheelJack with a raised optic ridge. “Easy there, Wrecker. She’s not our enemy.”

“Yeah, but she’s no ally either,” WheelJack grumbled, his expression hardening.

Ultra Magnus stepped forward, his demeanor composed yet authoritative. “Regardless of our opinions, she has proven formidable. We must remain cautious and focused.”

Bumblebee beeped, “Let’s not forget, she did allow us to treat her hound. That counts for something.”

“I still think he has the hots for her,” Miko shrugged nonchalantly. Bulkhead chuckled softly. “Maybe you’re right, Miko.”

Arcee shook her helm folding her arms. “Optimus is focused on the mission, Miko. Romance isn’t exactly his style.”

"What! Come on! Weren’t you in love with somebody!" Miko questioned the two wheeler.

"No," Ratchet grunted. "Romance and war don’t mix well, that’s for sure."

Ultra Magnus folded his arms, "Our priority remains securing peace and stability."

WheelJack snorted. "Peace and stability? Easier said than done. The cons know nothing about that."

Raf shrugged slightly. "I mean… she might have a point. You guys needed help from humans for your war on our planet… even though you were defending it from the cons, you’re still leaving something behind that could affect us."

Arcee’s optics flashed with offense, her voice firm. "Raf, we’ve fought to protect Earth from the Decepticons. We’ve sacrificed much to ensure its safety."

Ultra Magnus’s demeanor turned stern. "Our actions have always been in defense of Earth. We do not take lightly the consequences of our battles."

Ratchet’s expression darkened. "Do not mistake necessity for indifference, Rafael. We strive to minimize harm, but sometimes there are no easy choices in war."

Bumblebee looked between them, sensing the tension. “I think Raf just meant—”

Ratchet interrupted, his voice carrying a hint of disappointment. “No, Bumblebee. He needs to understand that we fight to protect, not to endanger.”

Raf shook his head, his voice earnest as he interjected, “I know that, I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. It’s just… seeing the aftermath sometimes makes me wonder if there could be a better way.”

Arcee softened slightly, “We understand, Raf. We all have the same goal at the end of the day, to go home.”

Raf smiled up at Arcee, his expression relieved as they heard the ground bridge open and footsteps echoing through the base. Soon, Optimus and you returned, your hounds trailing behind, their watchful gazes scanning the room as everyone emerged from the training room and converged towards you and the Prime.

Optimus placed his servo on your shoulder and addressed everyone with a solemn tone, his optics sweeping over the gathered Autobots. "Autobots, Y/N has decided to stay and help us."

Ratchet, standing nearby with his arms crossed, couldn't help but groan audibly. "So many mouths to feed," he muttered under his breath, eyeing the hounds that trailed behind you and Optimus.

Miko squealed excitedly, "Finally, another girl! Hi! Nice to meet you again, I'm Miko! And this is Raf and Jack!"

You looked down at the humans as they waved at you. Nodding your helm in acknowledgement, you spoke a word in Cybertronian, prompting your hounds to move forward from behind you, their tails wagging eagerly. All of them, except your largest hound, who remained by your side, glared defiantly at Arcee.

"Y/N, and this is [hound's name]. She keeps the others in check," you introduced, gesturing to your largest hound beside you.

"So, what made you want to join us Autobots, sunshine?" Wheeljack asked, narrowing his optics at you.

You glanced at Optimus for a moment, then back at Wheeljack. "Timing," was all you said, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

[kalixora]

Optimus x reader | Age of Extinction

Ver 1.

[Autobot reader]

[Old draft]

[Not proof read]

Optimus stood with the last of the Autobots, hearing the distant rumble of another vehicle approaching the group. “Who’s that?” Tessa asked, gripping her dad’s arm tightly.

“Well, well,” Hound chuckled, a grin spreading across his face. “Who’s late to the party?”

As you got closer, you transformed from your vehicle mode, the shifting of metal plates echoing in the air. You stretched your body, feeling the satisfying click of joints settling into place, and looked ahead at the familiar faces. Optimus moved forward, his optics widening. “Thank the AllSpark,” he murmured, standing directly in front of you.

You placed your servo on his chest plate, feeling the warmth of his spark beneath the metal, and rested your helm against his chest, a moment of relief and reunion passing between you.

“His girlfriend?” Shane quipped, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“No…” Cade shook his head slowly, his eyes locked on the tender moment unfolding before him. “His wife.”

“Sparkmate,” Drift corrected Cade, stepping forward. “It’s a connection that transcends time and space, a pure light of love that only comes once in a lifetime. Their sparks are intertwined, destined to find each other no matter the odds. It’s the rarest and most profound connection two Cybertronians can share.”

“Yap yap yap,” Crosshairs waved Drift off. “You didn’t need to go into detail for these pesky people.”

Cade looked up at the green bot and shouted, “Pesky or not, where’s your sparkmate?”

“Where’s yours?” Crosshairs shot back.

“Gone,” Cade replied, his voice heavy. “But out of all that, I got my beautiful little girl right here,” he said, pulling Tessa closer to him.

Tessa looked up at her dad with a mixture of love and sadness, wrapping her arms around him in a comforting hug.

“Optimus…” you sighed heavily, your optics dimming as you struggled to keep your emotions in check.

“I know,” he said softly, his voice a comforting rumble. He gently brought his servo to your faceplate, the touch grounding you in the moment. “I know.”

Optimus turned his helm, his optics scanning the area for any remaining threats before he began to lead you towards the others. His presence was reassuring, a steady anchor amidst the chaos.

As you walked, the weight of recent battles and close calls pressed heavily on your shoulders. You glanced around, taking in the damaged surroundings and the weary faces of your comrades.

When you spotted Bumblebee, his bright yellow armor scuffed and dented but his spirit unbroken. You made your way towards him, your steps quickening. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at him, taking in the familiar, comforting sight of your friend.

Without a word, you closed the distance and wrapped your arms around him tightly. Bumblebee hesitated for just a second before returning the hug. The embrace was a silent exchange of support and relief.

“Glad to see you’re okay,” Bumblebee buzzed through the radio.

“Same to you, Bee,” you replied, your voice muffled against his armor. “Same to you.”

[kalixora]

Bumblebee x Autobot reader

Bay-verse | Revenge of the fallen

Quick one-shot

“Sam…” you spoke up, watching the boy pace back and forth, his steps erratic and his breathing heavy.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” your optics softened as you kneeled down beside him, your servos gently resting on his shoulder.

Sam looked up at you; you could see the tears in his eyes streaming down his face. His skin was dirty, smudged with grime, and his clothes were partly torn.

“I don’t know what to do…” His voice was shaky, filled with despair.

“We stick together, Sam,” you nodded, offering a reassuring smile on your face plate.

Hearing more footsteps, you lifted your helm, seeing Bumblebee back with the twins, Skids and Mudflap, who were bantering as usual.

“Welp, no punk-ass cons followed us, so we all good,” Mudflap said, a hint of bravado in his tone.

“Good,” you hummed, feeling a slight sense of relief.

“Sam— you okay?” Bumblebee said through the radio. Sam sniffled and wiped his face with the back of his hand, trying to compose himself. “Yeah… I’m okay, Bee. Just… overwhelmed.”

Bumblebee stepped closer, his optics softening. “We’re here for you, Sam. We’ll get through this together.”

You stood back up, placing your servo on your hip, hearing Sam’s friend Leo walking over to you all in a panicked frenzy.

“Literally, I can’t believe this—this shit is insane!” Leo exclaimed, his voice cracking with fear.

“Ah, here his punk ass go again,” Skidz groaned. “Fucking pussy.”

“Hey, hey! I shouldn’t be here—literally should not be here right now, man! I can just go back and tell them I had nothing to do with it because technically I didn’t—Simplemente corrí hacia donde tú corrías. Esto no tiene nada que ver conmigo, soy inocente!” Leo rambled, his words spilling out faster and faster.

Switching your servo to a gun, you commanded, “Shut it.”

Leo’s eyes widened as he put his hands in the air, shouting, “Woah woah woah! Don’t shoot! I’m just saying—this isn’t my fight! I’m not cut out for this! I can’t handle this kind of pressure! And you—oh my god, you were a Decepticon! How do we know we can trust you? How do I know you won’t just turn on us? This is crazy!”

Bee quickly stepped in front of you, waving your gun away from Leo’s direction. “No need for that, let’s stay calm,” he urged.

“Oh oh, you done pissed off one of the old ones,” Skid began to holler. “Nah uh, imma stay right here.

“Old one? What do you mean old! You’re a bad one—MAN! What the fuck—” Leo stammered, “I can’t do this! I can’t do this shit! I don’t want to die! I have a life, I have plans, I have—And now we have a former Decepticon on our side? How is this supposed to make me feel safe?”

Sam cussed to himself as he shoved Leo back slightly. “She was one. Was! Keyword, remember that, alright?” Sam looked up at you his eyes giving a pleading stare. “N/N, please—”

“Sorry,” you said, switching back to your servo. “Old habit.”

“That’s that Megatron training right there,” Mudflap joked.”

“Mhm, from Destiny’s Child to Beyoncé, she’s glowin’ now, look at her,” Skid laughed, nudging Mudflap.

“You two— fucking shitheads think this is funny?” Leo snapped at the twins.

Leo, still catching his breath and visibly trembling. “This is all just too much. I mean, how are we supposed to trust her? What if she goes back to the Decepticons? What if—”

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Shut up! Jesus! We fugitives! We’re ALL fugitives— doesn’t matter anymore. Shit is gonna happen, more shit is gonna get ugly! You wanted to be apart of it now you’re in the middle of it.”

Mudflap chuckled. “Well at least we look good.”

“Right, cause we sexier than a mother fucka,” Skidz said nodding his helm. “Got shit twisted, we gonna come out looking like hero’s. Leo’s gonna come out with no clothes and a thong.”

“I can fucking hear you two!” Leo shouted.

You walked away towards Mikaela, who was sitting by a fire. Transforming into your vehicle mode, you opened your door. “It’s a lot warmer in here,” you said, using the radio to communicate with her.

Mikaela looked up, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames, and gave a small smile. “Thanks,” she said, standing up and walking over to you. She slipped into the passenger seat, closing the door behind her.

Settling into your warm interior, Mikaela sighed in relief. “This is much better,” she admitted, rubbing her hands together to warm them up.

You adjusted your internal temperature to make her more comfortable. “I know it’s been a rough day, but we’re all here for each other,” you said through the radio.

Mikaela nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… a lot to take in. Y/N….?”

“Yes?”

“What’s gonna happen to us?”

“…get some sleep Mikaela.”

. . .

You felt a tap on your hood, waking up from your recharge. You slowly scanned the area, picking up Mikaela’s body near Sam on a broken couch. Transforming into your alt mode, your optics opened and adjusted, seeing Bumblebee standing near you.

He tilted his helm, swaying his servo for you to follow him. You followed him a little ways out, not too far where you couldn’t see the fire.

“What is it, Bee?” you asked him. “Everything okay?”

“Losing… Optimus made me think about losing Sam and you… I can’t lose you,” Bumblebee said, looking at you intently.

“Bumblebee,” you chuckled shyly. “What are you saying right now?”

“You and I—have more chemistry than I thought. I love you, Y/N, more than the world could ever know,” Bumblebee said, stuttering slightly with his voice box.

Your optics widened in surprise, the sincerity in his words and the vulnerability in his stance taking you a little aback. “Bee, you and I we—“

Bumblebee took a step closer, his servos gently reaching out to you. “I’ve felt this way for a while. I just never found the right moment to tell you. But with everything going on….”

You processed his words, feeling a mix of emotions. “I love you too. Always felt it in my spark.”

A relieved, happy sound emanated from Bumblebee. “You do?”

“Yes, I do,” you admitted, stepping closer and placing your servo on his. Bumblebee brought you closer, his helm touching yours gently. You hummed, closing your optics. “Even with a con, you still want this?”

“More than anything,” Bumblebee replied, his voice steady and full of conviction.

You felt a warmth spread through your circuits. “We’ll be okay…”

[kalixora]

@dvafoxxystrashcan is the cuntEST bitch on here!!

[kalixora]

Bounty

Optimus x Cybertronian reader

Reader is cybertronian bounty hunter

Team Prime was currently down in an deep energon cave that Wheeljack had found while coming back to Jasper. It was enough energon to last a whole year the best part was there as no cons. None at all.

"Gotta hand it to you Jacky! This cave is awesome!" Bulkhead exclaimed as he punched Wheeljack on the arm.

"I'm gonna actually agree with Bulk on this one," Arcee commented. “It’s a nice find, how many cons did you have to take out when you found it?”

“None at all, to bad though, I was looking forward to kicking a bunch of scarps today too, but this place was a score for real.”

“This could last us like a whole year! Right?” Smokescreen says while tapping the walls of the cave. In which Bumblebee chirped excitedly while nodding his helm.

Optimus stood next to Ultra Magus still scanning the cave some more. He was proud of Wheeljack about finding the cave, but given everything that they’ve all been through lately in past missions, he was slightly hesitant. Ultra Magus raised his optics looking at the Prime.

“Is something troubling you sir?”

Optimus hummed, “No, but you can never be to careful.” Optimus raised his voice so everyone could hear him, “Let’s quickly grab as much energon as we can and head back to base, Wheeljack excellent work, I gave you my thanks.”

Wheeljack nods, giving Bulkhead a smug look. “No problem boss, just doing my job.”

With that everyone spilt into two or three groups grabbing energon and filling up carts and putting it on Wheeljack’s ship.

Smokescreen, Bumblebee and Arcee walked further into the cave finding the mother load of energon.

“Come on Smokescreen, we have way more than enough,” Arcee says signaling them that it’s time to go back.

“Aw come on, we gotta get a little bit more! You never know maybe the cons might find this place and we’ll never get it back again,” Smokescreen replied back still grabbing more energon.

Arcee sighed, “I understand your concerns, I do, but we've gone far enough into this cave, and I don't like staying in caves for any longer than necessary.”

“But, the more the merrier." Smokescreen objected.

"We have enough," Arcee responded.

Bumblebee attempted to intervene, but the two-wheeler refused. Acree rolled her optics turning around, "Do what you want then."

Smokescreen chuckled and huffed, "Fine by me-“

Bumblebee beeped questioning Smokescreen sudden demeanor change, Smokescreen switched his servo’s into guns pointing in the direction of the energon. Arcee did the same unsure of what was going on.

“I heard something….” Smokescreen finally said after a few seconds of unmoving. Stepping closer Smokescreen became to see a metallic chest plate, he then stepped a bit closer and was lunged at. Stumbling back Smokescreen fired a shot missing his attacker who managed to get on top of him.

“What the-“ Arcee and Bumblebee pointed their guns at the thing. It was a cybertronion animal. But it was a predacon, since a predacon wouldn’t have given Smokescreen the chance to get that close since they’re territorial when it came to energon.

Arcee fired a shot at it and hit it on its sides. It whimpered and shook its helm trying to get up but struggled, letting out a sharp yelp in doing so. Acree stared at it feeling a bit uneasy for having to shoot it. But it was either them or it.

“What the heck is that thing?!” Smokescreen stammered while trying to get back in his feet. His spark pounded against his chest plate looking to see what almost un-alived him.

“Looks like it’s from our planet…” Arcee said hesitantly still trying to examine it.

“Should we call Optimus?” Smokescreen asked.

“Yeah…” Arcee nods while looking at Bumblebee.

After ending the com link Smokescreen huffed, “Maybe shooting it wasn’t the idea…”

“It was you or them,” Arcee huffs as well.

“Arcee?”

Optimus voice echoed through the cave as he came closer to the three, Bumblebee waved him over and pointed at the creature that attacked Smokescreen.

Optimus and Ultra Magnus came closer, inspecting the creature as it whines losing its own energon, Optimus leaned down examining it some more. His optics went wide seeing the creature up closer.

Bumblebee chirped and beeped in confusion while Smokescreen began to start asking questions.

“Do you recognize that thing Optimus?”

“This is a cybertronion hound, only used by Cybertions bounty hunters.”

“Bounty hunters?!” Smokescreen and Bumblebee said beeped at the same time then both looked at Arcee. Arcee’s optics went wide, “Your telling me that belongs to a bounty hunter….”

Optimus turned to look back at the three younger bots with concerns, before noticing a reflection within the energon that captured his attention. He stood up and turned switching his servo to a gun, “Show yourself.”

Optimus narrowed his optics seeing a figure step into his view, his spark rate began to rise at the sight of… you.

You stood there narrowing your own optics at the Prime in front of you, you scoffed in realization.

It was the autobots. And their leader Optimus Prime.

You took aim at his head, glaring at the bot with anger as you fired. Your shot missed as Optimus dodged with precision, his optics meeting yours with a mix of no fear and hesitation.

“Waste of scrap and metal,” you grumbled.

“We mean you no harm,” Optimus says. “My apologies for your friend.”

"My apologies for your friend," he added, acknowledging the unintended consequence of the battle.

The others raised their weapons, with Arcee aiming hers at your hound. Optimus held his servos up, signaling the others to stand down, they all lowered the guns hesitantly with Ultra Magus speaking up. “Is this wise Optimus?”

“I agree with him with on this one sir,” Arcee says. “Bounty hunters hunt. She coukd be working for the cons.”

You rolled your optics, “Autobots, Decepticons, is that all you talk about? I should rip your sparks out and feed it to my hounds.”

“Hounds?” Smokescreen’s optics widened. Hearing growls coming from around them, four more hounds larger the injured one stepped around the rocks of the caves.

“Scrap…” he muttered softly, sensing the tension escalating around them.

“Forgive them, I shall take the blame for their consequence,” Optimus began to kneel down. “Whatever you must do, let me receive it.”

Your largest hound, bristling with protectiveness, snarled as it positioned itself between you and Optimus, a silent but clear warning. The air crackled with tension your other hound gently lifted your injured companion onto its back, carrying it towards you.

You optics shifted towards your smaller hound, scanning over their injures, your spark could rest easy, the femme bot was a crappy shot, missed your hounds vital areas completely.

Steeling yourself, you closed the distance to Optimus, your optics locked onto his with a mix of defiance, grief, and determination. Switching your servo back to your gun, you aimed it squarely at Optimus’s head, the weight of the situation heavy on your shoulders. Arcee’s optics narrowed, sensing the gravity of your demand, while the other Autobots stood tense and watchful.

“Fix him,” you demanded with a low tone, switching your gun back to your servo.

Optimus lifted his helm, meeting your gaze with a steady resolve in his own optics. As you took a step back, allowing him to rise to his full height.

“Very well,” Optimus said with a nod. He placed his digits to his com link, calling base.

[kalixora]

Mother alert.

[kalixora]

Transformers 1 x reader

. Ngl I forgot abt it

Didn’t proofread

1

2

3

4

I followed the autobots to the boys home. Ironhide trailed behind me for the entire time. It was annoying. His spark will be the first I rip out once I find the allspark and deliver it personally to Lord Megatron.

His spark will be the first I rip out once I find the allspark and deliver it personally to Lord Megatron.

Sam's pheromones are everywhere; it's revolting. Do all humans get like that? That explains why the human female didn’t want to stay with Trent.

Optimus emitted a peculiar sound, transformed, and crossed into Sam's residence. Mikela tried to stop him, while Bumblebee transformed and tried to stop him as well. Ironhide transformed and slammed into the side of my vehicle.

I transformed and shoved him. “Do that again, and I’ll rip your helm off and shove it in your aft.”

“Oh, you pissed her off,” Jazz joked.

“It was rather unnecessary, Ironhide,” Racthet scolded him. Only to receive a dismissive wave.

With a growl, Ironhide glared at me with his optics. Returning the glare, I entered Sam's yard. "Autobot scum, such a waste of scrap."

When he saw all of us on his property, Sam became even more distressed. Which is strange because Trent's sire didn't appear to be bothered by me, but I was in my vehicle mode. Thus, I guess I can comprehend the fleshings' feelings.

Optimus crushed something beneath his pede (foot), causing the boy to yell in frustration. I crossed my restarlueus (arms) and grinned faintly. It's rather entertaining to watch the autobots being ordered to keep quiet, and they simply cannot comply with the boy's request.

“Do anything funny and I’ll kill you where you stand,” Ironhide grunted. I raised my servo and switched it into my cannon, shoving it into his helm.

“Why don’t I do an act right now.” I grimaced, shoving the so-called weapon specialist back a bit. I heard the medic and the tinier mech point their weapons at me. Bumblebee waved his servos signaling us to knock it off, he came up to us and shoved us both apart.

Bumblebee shook his helm side to side at me then turned to his comrades. I raised my optical ridge noticing a rodent making strange sounds at us. It then lifted its leg and let out lubricant on Ironhide’s pede (foot).

I laughed then covered my intake(mouth).

Ironhide grunted in disgust, flinging the rodent in the air slightly and pointed his guns at it. Sam shouted and picked up the rodent trying to shield it.

“You have a rodent infestation, shall I terminate?”

“No no no, this is not a rodent, he’s a chihuahua! This is my chihuahua, we love chihuahuas!” Sam frantically answered back.

“He leaked lubricantes all over my foot.” Ironhide grumbles.

“Oh, he peed on you? Bad Mojo, bad Mojo.” Sam says.

“Good Mojo.”

Ironhide fixed his gaze on me and huffed, putting his guns away. Sam looked between Ironhide and I then apologized to Ironhide again. “Sorry it’s a male dominance thing-“

Ironhide walked away from the boy complaining that his pede (foot) is going to rust. Sam quickly ran to his home and yelled at us to shut up and to go hide.

Optimus told the boy to hurry then told the autobots to recon.

I looked down at Mikela. “Mikela, what is that rodent chihuahua? Is it like your bigger rodent at your home?”

Mikela looked up at me, her face seemingly in a panic. “Uh- yeah, yeah, it’s a dog, and we have them as pets.”

“Ah, like a cybertrion hound, I understand,” I nodded my helm at her. Dogs were like the hounds from home, that makes better sense, they have similar characteristics.

Bumblebee moved away from me and crouched down to peer inside the Witwicky’s home. Optimus then gestured Mikela over and held his servo down for her to climb on. She got on while Optimus moved her to what I’m assuming to be Sam’s room. Optimus then told Sam to hurry.

This is embarrassing to watch.

Bumblebee came back towards me and transformed into his vehicle mode.

“I’m not a damn autobot.”

I noticed everyone else transformed into their vehicle modes. I shook my helm watching the pathetic insects. I should kill them now. Optimus then transformed back, going over to Sam’s window, Sam became annoyed by something and the prime began to become aggravated but apologized to the boy.

“Autobots fall back.”

The others changed yet again. I rolled my optics. Ratchet walked into something that led him to fall, and his big aft caused the electricity to go out in the vicinity.

The autobots were around Sam’s window practically dancing around trying to avoid something. I could hear the older human with the gut yelling at Sam. Optimus then told everyone to hide. While Bumblebee wriggled to avoid being seen by Sam's sire, I hunkered down next to him.

After he left, I changed my servo to a gun and pointed it in the direction of the boys' room. I sighed then changed my gun back to my servo. Bumblebee swatted it away and violently shook his helm.

“The parents are very irritating, can I take them out?”

“Ironhide. You know we don’t harm humans what is with you,” Prime scolded Ironhide.

“Well I’m just saying, we could. It’s an option.”

“I agree with the specialist Prime, the fleshlings are rather small and useless, killing them would be beneficial.”

“Humans deserve the right to make their own decisions, we don’t have the right to decide for them, harming them will do no good.”

They don’t harm humans? What a shame. I’ll harm the insect’s plenty enough later.

Optimus motioned for us to follow him while Sam and Mikaela went with his parents.

I changed into my vehicle mode and tailed Bumblebee. Sam appears to have glasses bearing the Allspark code; the only issue at hand is figuring out how to obtain it from the Prime. Enabling my com link would reveal my strategy, and I must win the trust of the autobots.

There was a light static through my radio. Someone was trying to contact me? I accepted the static line and heard Bumblebee. He's easier to understand this way for some reason.

Y/N: You really trust me that much?

Bumblebee: I trust that you’ll do the right thing

Y/N: I’ll do right for our home.

Bumblebee: With Megatron?

Y/N: He knows what he’s doing.

Bumblebee: So does Optimus.

Y/N: Dancing around a human? Like a fool.

Bumblebee: He wants the humans to be spared from our mistakes.

Y/N: Does it matter?

Bumblebee: It does. It was our fault our home was lost, the humans shouldn’t have to pay for our mistakes.

Y/N: Did Optimus tell you that?

Bumblebee: Is it obvious?

Y/N: Yes… what’s going on?

Bumblebee: Sam and Mikaela were taken by other humans.

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