#Forging Lubricants

[broachingoils]

Key Considerations for Sustainable Forging Lubricant Solutions

In today's manufacturing landscape, sustainability has become a paramount concern. Industries are increasingly seeking ways to reduce their environmental impact and enhance resource efficiency. This article focuses on sustainable forging lubricant solutions and the key considerations that can help forge a path toward eco-friendly, efficient, and cost-effective metalworking practices.

Sustainability in Forging

Sustainable forging involves the reduction of adverse environmental effects, efficient resource utilization, and long-term economic viability. It also encompasses responsible use of materials and the well-being of workers. Sustainable forging lubricants play a pivotal role in achieving these objectives.

Key Considerations for Sustainable Forging Lubricant Solutions

Environmental Impact:

a. Biodegradability: Opt for forging lubricants that are biodegradable. These lubricants break down naturally, reducing the impact on ecosystems in the event of spills or leaks.

b. Low Emissions: Choose lubricants that produce fewer emissions during the forging process, contributing to better air quality in the workplace and the surrounding environment.

c. Reduced Waste: Sustainable lubricants can be recycled or disposed of more responsibly, contributing to waste reduction and minimizing landfill impact.

Energy Efficiency:

a. Heat Dissipation: Lubricants that efficiently dissipate heat can contribute to lower energy consumption by helping maintain optimal forging temperatures.

b. Friction Reduction: Minimizing friction through lubricants leads to more efficient metal flow, which requires less force and, consequently, less energy.

Resource Optimization:

a. Tool Life Extension: Lubricants that extend the lifespan of dies and equipment reduce the need for frequent replacements, saving both resources and costs.

b. Material Efficiency: Controlled metal flow achieved with lubricants can help reduce material waste, as less metal is lost to defects or inaccuracies.

Health and Safety:

a. Worker Health: Prioritize lubricants that are safer for workers, minimizing exposure to hazardous chemicals and fumes, and ensuring a healthier work environment.

b. Regulatory Compliance: Ensure that the chosen lubricants comply with local and international safety and environmental regulations.

Cost-Effectiveness:

a. Total Cost of Ownership (TCO): Consider the TCO of sustainable lubricants. While they may have a higher upfront cost, the long-term savings from extended tool life and reduced energy consumption can make them more cost-effective.

b. Efficiency Gains: Sustainable lubricants can lead to more efficient forging processes, which can, in turn, increase production rates and lower operational costs.

Consultation and Research:

a. Consult with lubricant suppliers or manufacturers to identify sustainable options that meet your specific forging needs.

b. Stay informed about the latest developments in sustainable lubricants, as new formulations and technologies are continually being introduced.

Conclusion

Sustainability in forging is no longer an optional consideration; it is a necessity for the modern manufacturing industry. Choosing the right forging lubricant is a critical step in the journey toward a more sustainable and environmentally responsible metalworking practice. By considering the environmental impact, energy efficiency, resource optimization, health and safety, and cost-effectiveness of lubricants, manufacturers can make informed choices that not only benefit their bottom line but also contribute to a cleaner, greener, and more sustainable future for the forging industry. Sustainable forging lubricants are not only a responsible choice but also a step toward securing the future of metalworking.

[the-californicationist]

Please! I need the part 2 of “Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen.“ I'm on my kneesss pleaseee it was so good! 😭♥️

Anyways, I'm your new follower 😍, and some of the stories you write is just so damn good😍 (Sorry for bad grammar's, English isn't really my first language, uwu)

im sorry but idk what a part two even looks like. i know a lot of people have asked for it but its... just some couch sex?? idk i'll try.

Laswell clicked the door shut behind her, and part of you wished she had locked it. Gaz was sure to tell the rest of the team, but you could do without an audience. What would they even see if they barged in here?

The captain had let his cock loose from the confines of his pants, and they were sliding down his thick, muscular ass with every selfish thrust. He was rubbing himself like a naughty dog against your clothed pussy, begging for entrance with every forward movement. Your shirt was pulled down, revealing your breasts, and now they were covered in pink marks from the roughness of his beard as he moved his mouth across you.

Feeling him take each nipple and suck it so gently into his mouth, pulling it in like delicious nectar through a straw, drinking you although you were dry, tasting you even though you had no flavor. It was too much, but he couldn't stop.

You felt a little wrong to be enjoying your commanding officer so much. His humping was making your body respond even as it waited for your guilty conscience to catch up.

"Cap... oh, my fucking God... No, Captain. We shouldn't..." you tried to protest on his behalf, knowing he was being controlled by the powder.

"Corporal," he spoke with his mouth full of your flesh, "I can stop... now. It'll give you... enough time... to run..."

His bright pink eyes flashed up at you in warning and he used both his arms to pin you on either side of your head, forcing you to look at him, the intensity of which went right to your rapidly-melting core.

Suddenly, in a moment of lucidity, he looked you right in your eyes and finished his sentence,

"But that will not be bloody true for long."

As if warning you, he rubbed his hardness up and over your belly, letting it ruck up your shirt, and you felt its incredible heat. It was like a long, steel brand. His skin was smooth, but it was scalding and swollen with his blood. The huge tip left a wet trail of desire wherever it went.

"It's okay, Captain. You can have me if you --"

There mere suggestion of your consent was all he needed to let the dam burst and the river run free. His need crashed from him with an explosive force. He all but ripped your clothes from you, nearly hurting you in the process, making your ankles ache from the sudden pressure as he shucked your pants and boots away in one go.

Your panties were torn from you, sturdy though they were. The fabric made a whining, popping noise as the elastic split. Air rushed across uncovered skin, and your body doubled down on its plans to produce as much natural lubrication as possible. It seemed to know you'd need it.

He didn't touch you. Not with his hands. There was no preparation of any kind. Price fed himself into you like a hand into a glove, a body part in need of sudden and immediate warmth. He took control of your head again, pinning you in that same furious way, and you had a singular view of his face, twisted in a sort of sublime agony as he sank himself into you for the first time.

The pressure was almost unimaginable. Your body was making a lurid, wet, slicking noise as his cock forced you in half. You tried to allow him in, tried to relax, but there was little you could do. He was immense and heavy. It felt like a fist on a strong arm, like a forge hammer, hot and searing. The only thing more tormenting was his voice purring darkly in your ear.

"Fuck, you're warm..."

He pulled himself out of you inch by inch, leaving a terrible hollow where you were once whole.

"Wet for me. So wet. How?"

Back in. And in. And in. It seemed to go forever in and it made you wonder how deep you were.

"It feels so good to have you 'round me, love..."

When the rosy head of him found the end of your wet hole, it sort of... settled there. Locked in, like a key into a tumbler, and each fold of you a lifted pin, fitting him as if you were crafted for it.

"Thought 'bout how you'd feel. Sometimes... dreamt it."

You felt your body give away your surprise. He was too gone to notice it, but not you. You would have been able to feel the planets shift an inch to the left if they dared. You could feel everything. Each and every pore and hair and breath was awake and alive and living in the rawest possible way. Could he have really been thinking of you like you were thinking of him?

"Bloody fuckin' hell. So tight. Too tight."

He was right. It was too tight. He was squeezing himself in with each of these aching, crazed thrusts, shoving himself inside of you hungrily, all the way up to your pounding heart, it seemed. You felt yourself slipping around him like hot oil, running down his shaft and matting the coarse, dark hair that cradled his root.

"John..."

You used his name in place of his title, and he noticed. Noticed it like a hawk notices a hare. Right in your ear, up against your cheek, he responded, too quickly, too much teeth,

"Yes, love. Yes. Yes? Tell me."

He was grunting now, clearly on the edge of his pleasure. You aimed to take him over it, to plunge him into blinding darkness. You whispered, and each word hit its mark like the straight shaft of an arrow, striking into the target one after the other, tearing through the bullseyes like they were nothing but air.

"You're gonna make me come, John."

Again, that unearthly snarl came from his chest, the one you'd never heard before come from the mouth of a man. It was a cry and a scream and a prayer and a plea and had he not been pinning you down prone with his own prostrated body, he would have been growling it from his knees. He commanded you as he worshiped you,

"Give it to me. Give it to me. Give. It. To. Me."

Your body listened before you could even register his words.

From the bones in your hips, you felt your muscles tighten along his iron rod like a fist, closing in on him knuckle by knuckle, and each closure brought you closer to that brink where the darkness turned to blinding white light. You could feel the sparkle of it, that peppery gunpowder flash and then...

"Holy fuck, love..." He stared at you as if you were the sun lighting up his whole life. Like he'd seen you before, all sherbet pink and blazing orange, in the dawn, in the mornings, cutting over the horizon.

Price had come in you. You felt it. It slid along the cleft of your ass and soaked into the fabric of the couch. He didn't mind it. You couldn't. His body was still thrusting as hard and as heavy as before, fucking up into you as if he hadn't just filled you with his thick, hot cream.

"I can't... " he gasped, wrenching his eyes shut, "I can't stop..."

"It's okay, John..."

"I can't bloody stop, love. I'm... fuck, I'm sorry..."

"I'm okay. It's okay," you whispered to him, trying to soothe him.

You pet the hair back over his brow and he leaned into your touch like a cat, purring for more of it. You laced your fingers through his hair and held him tight at his scalp, turning his head so that you could talk to him right into his ear,

"Fuck me how you need to, Captain."

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[staticnonapus]

About your Dreadwing and Optimus post

A follow up to that can be threesome with Megatron that shows Dreadwing just how rough ha can be when using Optimus

Dreadwing gets to see just how much of a spike slut OP is and gets to frag him again while watching the Prime get spit roasted on his and Megatron's spike

Or maybe one Descepticon gets one hole and they do him like that? Could do both one after the other 👀

Either way Optimus ends up as a fragged out mess covered in transfluid (he loves it)

Hgnnnnn Optimus getting railed by his decepticon bfs…

He was expecting a sensual bonding session when he proposed this offer, secretly hoping dreadwing would change his mind and join the autobots.

When megaton showed up things went wrong quickly. He was pinned down and his panel ripped off. Megaton dug those claws into his valve fragging him open. The loud obscene noise of dripping lubricant made his face heat up. The surprise quickly turned into lust, especially with Dreadwing watching him as he got violated. None of this should happen, but somehow he’s excited and turned on.

Megaton being the menace he was held op’s legs spread and high up as he fragged into him. Forcing Optimus to stay fully exposed while getting pounded into oblivion. Dreadwing’s hard spike pressed against his closed panel, he wanted to pop it open and have prime’s pretty intake wrapped around his spike, but megaton ordered him to stand down. A few rounds later the stoic well-mannered prime was already a sobbing mess, optics dazed lips swollen and covered in coolant lubricant and transfluid. He looks more like a disposable shareware than a leader now.

Optimus didn’t bother to resist when dreadwing joined them. Opening his intake and took the whole spike in with ease. He could hear Megs in the back laughing about how he was ‘build for being a spike slut’, but not a single coherent thought could be formed before dreadwing pounded into his vocalizer. They sure took their time filling all his tanks. Dreadwing got overwhelmed when he squeezed into op’s valve together with Meg’s huge spike. It was too tight and hot and Optimus was clinging onto him for dear life, crying and screaming in pain and pleasure. Right after he overloaded he couldn’t hold his tank, staring with a few drop that leaked then hot waste fluid poured into Optimus’s forge. Half of it gushed out mixing with Optimus’s own waste, and megs topped up the forge with transfluid again.

By dawn all three of them were spent and exhausted. The entire chamber stinks of waste oil and ozone. Megs pulled out and left for the washrack, leaving Optimus on top of dreadwing offlined. Dreadwing couldn’t move under the weight, Optimus was drained of energy and his system entered repair mode while his processor rest, a faint sated smile stayed on his faceplate. Maybe the prime did gained his trust after going through all this, Dreadwing thought to himself.

[mychlapci]

I need to wifeify idw Prowl so bad… I almost don’t even care who does it, but I bet the Constructicons could do it entirely by accident. One drunken orgy and they’d be halfway there already! Prowl’s t-cog reconfiguring him just to be able to fit Long Haul or Bonecrusher’s huge spike inside, widening that trim little waist into a plush, mommy sway. Giving him a perfect, sexy hourglass of a figure just to be able to frag in the first place. The sight of a huge spike distending his belly would be enough to give Prowl his first overload, his horny subconscious giving his t-cog permission to align his nodes to maximize pleasure in his valve. His belly would swell a little with load after load as the whole team too turns fucking his valve, his aft, his mouth.

They’d worship his pretty titties the whole time, sucking, nipping, pinching them. It’d be enough to get them producing, between the forge rapidly filling with transfluid and the stimulation. He’d overload again as Scavenger drained them with his mouth, configuring and reconfiguring to produce more and more milk for the ‘baby’ with each successful draining. By the end of the night he’d look perfectly plush and fertile! But that wouldn’t be enough to change his mind.

No, that’d happen subconsciously, probably by accident through the gestalt bond. They’d fantasize or dream about Prowl as a soft, pretty wife after seeing him strung out on pleasure, and some of it would trickle through. Slowly warming him to the idea through worship and overloads without ever even meaning to. Until one day, Prowl buys a skirt. Just as a surprise, for a little kinky sex. Except it drives them all crazy, and they can’t stop overloading and praising and worshiping their good, pretty little mama. Sucking at his node under the skirt while they finger his needy, wet valve until he’s ready to beg for spike. Giving him so many orgasms he can’t see straight as he bounces on yet another spike, praising him for how beautiful and soft and perfect he is.

And suddenly it’s not a one-off kinky sex thing, it’s becoming increasingly common. They keep calling him their pretty wife, and it feels so good. Feels so good acting out their fantasies, feeding them dinner, wearing their little gifts, keeping their space in order. Ruling the roost, as it were, while the Constructicons drool over him. And now they can’t stop imagining him pregnant, tits swollen even further with milk and absolutely radiant with pleasure. Prowl finds himself masturbating to *their* fantasies in his office so frequently that he has to take time off, hands skimming over his own semi-flat belly. Semi-flat, of course, because they fuck him full of cum so often the little tummy never fully goes away. But he can’t help but wonder how good it would feel to actually get pregnant, if it feels this right to be soft and pretty and sweet to the team.

Surely they’d be willing to help him with his little problem…?

The constructicons need to turn Prowl into a pretty little mommy… their huge spikes widen his hips, their constant sucking on his titties makes them big and swollen, and he finds himself wearing that skirt, sometimes still crusted with transfluid, even when he's all by himself.

Prowl should ride their spikes like he’s lost his mind, finally broken and begging them to fuck him pregnant, to put a nice, fat baby into his forge. He was made for this, they know that.

I am seeing a vivid image of… Prowl with a pregnant belly, dutifully drinking his fuel, wearing his pretty skirt with someone’s hand snuck below and finger-fucking his pussy until he’s cumming himself stupid. Once they’re done, his valve stays fully naked under the skirt, lubricant cooling off and drying out… Maybe he eventually starts going to work wearing it, showing everyone how pretty of a wife he really is, getting off on the thought that if his skirt flipped, everyone would see his pregnant pussy underneath <3

Maybe he gains so much baby weight the skirt is just too small and most of his ass and valve are visible from the back anyways… brghh

[valve3nthusiast]

Rodimus gets pregnant with a conjunxed mech's baby, serious/angsty version. We need more fucked up dratchrod fr

I can't believe the first ever fanfiction I write is Ratchet doing medical malpractice lmao

Fuckin,,, uh,,, warning for mention of miscarriage/imagined threat to an unborn child??? I feel like I should warn for that.

Ratchet liked to believe he tolerated Rodimus with the same grace he gave to the rest of Drift's most ridiculous eccentricities. Just because they were conjunxed, didn't mean they were perfectly in tune and of the same opinion on everything. Every relationship had to have some give and take.

At the very least, Rodimus was cheaper than the crystal collection.

But that did mean he had to hear more about Rodimus than he ever really wanted to. And when Drift started expressing his concerns about "Roddy not feeling "himself"'...

A suspicion had crept over him, like a coolant rupture slowly freezing his energon lines.

Rodimus walked into the medbay, aiming for flippantly casual and falling just short of the mark. Rodimus tended to avoid the medbay when Ratchet was on shift. Even discounting that, he could see what Drift meant about that "disturbed energy" nonsense. Rodimus's field was noticeably (at least, for a medic) pulsing at a lower frequency.

"So what did you call me down for, doc?"

Ratchet got straight to the point. He didn't have the patience for anything else.

"I need to do an examination." He gestured vaguely to the table. "Up you go."

Rodimus took one look at the medberth configuration and snickered. Climbing up and putting his legs into position, he started, "If this is your way of saying you want a threesome-"

"Can it." He snapped, working the latches on the stirrups.

Rodimus, legs spread, reclined on the exam table. Ratchet found he had even less of a tolerance than usual for Rodimus's chatter, though it was more in the vein of nervous rambling.

"I don't have a virus, doc, you would know," he said, with an obnoxious little browplate wiggle. Ratchet deliberately tuned him out, especially the uptick of irrelevant and vaguely sexual comments once he brought out the speculum. Thankfully, Rodimus still retracted his panel without a fight.

Rodimus had a larger than average anterior node, and line of biolights trailing down his valve lips that matched the node's vibrant red color. As Ratchet spread his slit and inserted the speculum, he saw that the internal lights were the same.

It's a very pretty valve. He can see why Drift would like it.

Unfortunately, he can't confirm the absence of what he's looking for with a visual alone. (Not to mention that the pulsing and flaring of internal biolights wasn't helping visibility any.)

Ratchet gently removed the speculum, ignoring the strings of lubricant that stretched and snapped between the tool and Rodimus.

"I'm going to have to do a manual examination. Try not to flex your calipers or pelvic floor."

Rodimus squeaked out something affirmative. Ratchet pressed two fingers into his valve, but was unsurprised to note that he'd need to insert more to find what he was looking for.

...Rodimus was silken smooth to the touch. He straightend four fingers and slowly pushed in further, firmly ignoring how the soft and wet valve lining trembled around his hand, until Rodimus's anterior node met the dip between his thumb and palm.

With most patients, he wouldn't insert something this big in one go, but it was Rodimus. Ratchet would bet he'd taken something bigger in the past day.

His fingertips ghosted across Rodimus's ceiling node, before finally finding the forge iris.

And confirming his suspicion.

"Congratulations. You're sparked." Even with how distant his own voice sounded to his audials, he could tell it was bitingly cold. Unfortunately, it's not viable, he doesn't say, fingertips gently pressed to the seal, soft, perfectly intact. The gestational seal that protects the protoform appears to have already ruptured. Your systems will register the breach as a confirmed contamination of foreign bodies, and terminate the protoform.

Ratchet looks up, finally, to see Rodimus.

There's a subtle tremor on his lips. Fear, in his matrix-blue eyes. His spark, suddenly, feels flayed open under them.

It could be in reaction to the news. Ratchet knows it isn't. He knows:

Rodimus is scared of him.

His fingers were absentmindedly stroking over the seal, and he nearly snatched them back like they'd been burned. The hand that calmly pulls out of Rodimus's valve doesn't feel like his.

For one delirious moment, he wondered if Rodimus would do just that. Light up his ridiculous mod, and burn the three of them to death together. All of them gone, in one final moment of complete and total devastation.

Drift, entirely alone, with only the memory of a conjunx to cling to. Nothing left to tell him of the sparkling he would never know he had.

The moment ends. Ratchet finds that he's the one rambling now, statistics about carriages, essential nutrients, general hazards. Somewhere in all of that, Rodimus gets unbuckled from the medberth.

He rattles out something about scheduling him regular check ups with First Aid.

And,

"I'll leave you to tell Drift the good news."

Ratchet can't look at him when he says it.

Rodimus leaves his medbay without any further commentary.

[wantsobadminsung]

First Time 🍑🤭🤎

I sat nervously on the edge of the bed, my heart pounding in my chest. Tonight was the night I had been waiting for – an intimate encounter with both Minho and Jisung. It was thrilling and overwhelming at the same time. My mind raced with a mix of anticipation and anxiousness.

We had all decided that it would be best to take it slow and make sure we were comfortable every step of the way. It was a new territory for all of us, but our bond and trust made the experience feel both exciting and safe.

Earlier in the evening, we had ventured out together to a nearby store. We walked the aisles, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement as we discreetly searched for lubricant. It was our way of acknowledging the importance of both pleasure and the need for care. We laughed nervously, feeling like mischievous teenagers embarking on an adventure.

As we stepped back into our apartment, the atmosphere shifted. The room was dimly lit, candles flickering gently, casting a warm glow over everything. Soft music played in the background, creating an ambiance of romance and intimacy. The air was heavy with a mixture of nervousness and desire.

I watched with bated breath as Minho and Jisung locked eyes with me, their own excitement mirrored in their expressions. They approached me slowly, their movements graceful and confident. Their hands intertwined with mine, their touch sending shivers down my spine.

Gently, Minho kissed my lips, his touch tender and full of affection. Jisung's hand caressed my cheek, his eyes filled with adoration. Their touch sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, igniting a fire deep within.

We made our way to the bed, the three of us moving as one. They undressed me slowly and with care, making me feel cherished and loved. Each whispering sweet words of reassurance, they created an environment of trust and comfort.

Laying naked before them, I felt vulnerable yet eagerly ready to explore this new chapter of our relationship. The lubricant we bought earlier lay beside us, a reminder of our shared devotion to each other's pleasure and well-being.

Together, we embarked on a journey of passion and tenderness. Every touch, every kiss, and every caress was a symphony of romance and desire. We moved together as if in a delicate dance, finding perfect harmony between three bodies longing for connection.

It was a night filled with deep bonds forged in passion, with every moment etched into our memories forever. Minho's lips trailed kisses along my neck, sending shivers down my spine, while Jisung's hands explored my body with gentle reverence. The sensations were electrifying, overwhelming my senses with a mixture of pleasure and love.

We took our time, ensuring that no one felt left out or neglected. Their hands intertwined with mine, creating an unbreakable bond as our bodies entwined in a beautiful display of intimacy. It was an experience filled with exploration, trust, and a shared understanding of each of our desires.

As the night wore on, our passion intensified. The room was filled with the sounds of whispered moans and the rhythmic movements of bodies in unison. The scent of arousal hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of the candles.

Each moment felt like an eternity, and yet it also felt fleeting, as if time itself had ceased to exist. We surrendered ourselves to the experience, giving in to the overwhelming wave of pleasure that consumed us.

Afterwards, as we lay intertwined in a tangle of limbs, I felt a profound sense of bliss. The room was filled with warmth and an undeniable sense of love. Our bodies glistened with sweat, evidence of our passionate connection.

We held each other, sharing soft kisses and tender whispers. It was in these moments of intimacy that I realized the depth of our connection, the trust we had built together. This experience had brought us closer, forging an unbreakable bond between the three of us.

As the night came to an end, we embraced, knowing that this was just the beginning of our journey together. The memory of our first time, surrounded by romance and fueled by love, would forever be etched in our hearts.

In the days and months that followed, our relationship deepened, evolving into something beautiful and unique. Our shared first time was just the beginning of an incredible exploration of passion, trust, and love between the three of us that would continue to unfold as we ventured into a future filled with endless possibilities.

[sc-02]

Pairing: OptiRatch

Continuity: Transformers Prime

Warning: Explicit Content

Context: Optimus and Ratchet finally gets some alone time in the base

Soft

It’s been a while since the two old mechs have done this. Now never having the time to themselves since the Decepticons had come back. Ratchet and Optimus have to work and even keep the younglings in good condition in both health and armor. When they have some time alone, it would just be a 30 Klik break for the two, away from the chaos and the younger members. The prime would wrap his arms lovingly around the medic. Locking his hands that would almost be below Ratchet’s decent gray panel. Resting his helm in-between his partner’s shoulder and neck while watching him work on the computer. At least the clicking sounds of the keyboard are strangely relaxing and satisfying.

Ratchet used to chuckle and give a greeting as he turned around to give a small peck on the prime’s flat silver lips before going back to work. The sounds of keyboard keys would click while Optimus would calmly whisper encouragement and praises into the medic’s audial. Which would mostly make Ratchet’s internal cooling fans spin and softly interrupt the gentle moment. Optimus usually gives a small, gentle smile, knowing his lover enjoyed those words that he had uttered into his audio receptors. Especially when no one had heard them. The medic would be slightly embarrassed that someone had caught them having their precious moment, even if it is only a few kliks.

Now, they’re alone in the base while the youngsters and humans are off in the roads. Thankfully, Arcee had noticed their (especially Ratchet) slight discomfort of not being able to have affection or physical contact in the main hanger in the day without disruption in their way. At night, Ratchet would work tirelessly, Optimus would be just there for the medic. Comforting and gently giving some physical and mental affection in hopes to get the doctor to fall into power down (which always works). The three bots offered to take the humans outside of base for the day to allow the two old mechs to have some time alone with each other. Which was something the two mates were thankful for. Optimus knows that he can just easily get Ratchet off the computers by pulling the medic away from the work now that there’s no chaos happening in the base that he has to handle.

“Optimus…”

The medic huffs as he feels the sensation within him grows stronger as he wraps his servos around the prime’s neck. Burying his head into the shiny, ebony cabling as Optimus’s engine purred. Ratchet panted as he went to kiss the prime, gently closing the gap between them. This time, the doctor’s engine rumbles while the prime’s glossa easily slides into his mouth. His calipers tightened around the spike inside him that rubbed against a few nodes. The two made out for a while, Ratchet whines as he feels the thick, smooth base of the spike slide past his sprawling, aching calipers and brush against his interior node. Parting with a string of lubricant connecting the two’s mouths.

Optimus clenched his dentas as he held his medic close to his chest. Feeling the calipers clamp down tightly onto his spike, releasing a submissive noise that spewed out of his voice-box. His engine revs up as he opens his armor plating to let steam out in attempts to cool down his hot protoform and inner coils to not malfunction from overheating as he grips onto Ratchet’s hip plates as if his partner will leave him right then and there. The larger forge huffs as he pants a warning into his partner’s audial.

“I’m…going to start moving..”

Just with that Ratchet sighs in approval then he feels himself getting lifted off the spike that he was so eager for, his valve lips brushing against the tip. Moaning softly in the process then getting back in his previous positioning, letting out a strained ‘Ah!-‘ in the process.

The medic breathlessly moans and whimpers as he feels himself being stretched out so close to the limit as he feels the aching sensation inside him rise further with each lock and movement. Optimus whined as he felt calipers tighten around his spike even more despite his tries of being gentle with the smaller cybertronian, trying to contain himself to not completely rail the medic in his hands. Eventually his spike reaches the ceiling nodes and oh… how good it felt, how his doctor moans loudly in pure bliss as the tip of his spike brushes against the head of his seal.

Ratchet groaned in encouragement as he hid his face in his lover’s cabling. Slightly rubbing his faceplate against the slightly sensitive wiring which earned a soft moan in response. He pecked the cabling there as he was being thrusted up and down at a steady pace. His servos around the base neck tighten slightly as the medic moans happily as he was being driven into pleasure.

Optimus huffs and whimpers as he feels the calipers of his partner clenching down onto his spike tightly. The prime moaned softly as he drove into his teammate, trying to keep a steady pace even though he wanted to absolutely take this medic and rail him into oblivion.

“A-Oh…f-frag, Optimus…”

The medic groaned. His overload is building up fast in the midst of the interface. He was sure Optimus was too due to the prime’s sloppy pulling and huffing even more as his spike brushes against his partner’s seal.

Eventually, the two overloads together with one final thrust and moan. Ratchet almost screamed as he released his fluids that gushed out and leaked over the spike inside him. His calipers tightened around the spike base which triggered an overload for Optimus.

Optimus loudly groans in satisfaction as he finishes. His fluids flushed into the valve of his partner, earning a pleased moan in response. The medic huffed while he’s feeling himself getting filled to the brim, almost bursting his seal.

The old mechs sat there for a while, cooling fans spinning. Optimus lets his armor plating stay open for a brief while before closing them back up again. His armor slightly hissing in the process. Ratchet pants as he holds onto Optimus, hugging him from the waist front, laying his helm on the prime’s chest plates, just below his tinted windows. Optimus took notice of this and sighs in amusement as he wraps his servos around his medic. The two stayed like that for a while. […]

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Voila! Some fluffy OptiRatch for you people <3

[anon-e-miss]

Bearing the Broad - 4

Prowl’s peds hardly ever touched the ground. When he walked, it was only on the softest carpet as he made his way to the bath. The paint did not wash away, not from his peds, not from his face, arms, thighs and belly. It would remain until it wore off and if Jazz’s behaviour was any signal, the paint would still be there when Prowl entered emergence. The oils the Prince massaged into his plating every mega-cycle only helped it last. They also helped his sentio-metallico stretch as his forge extended. It was growing so quickly. By the time he gave emergence, Prowl would be far rounder than he was tall. No one seemed to be concerned for his fitness, it was strange that Polyhexian culture had developed in such a way that the far smaller partner carried. Prowl knew that it was Seekerkin and not Seekers that carried in Vos.

Though the coronation would not take place until a stellar-cycle of mourning took place for the old king, Jazz had become king immediately upon Straxus’ death and he had immediately gone to work.  Polyhex, Prowl realized had been poorly managed by the old king who had squanders its resources and emptied its coffers. This was why Jazz had gone through the effort of employing Prowl’s services. Only a member of the royal family with an heir in the cradle or in the forge could be crowned. None had fit that bill until Jazz had paid Prowl to kindle and carry for him. His cousins had tried very hard with a number of lovers but none had ensparked. Jazz did not care of his wastrel cousins and feared what ruin they could bring Polyhex. Prowl did not know how true his fears were but he could at least confirm for himself that Jazz was pouring his all into rebuilding the nation’s resources and pride.

Prowl sat as fount every mega-cycle. These poor mechanisms were so starved new originators could not produce the energon their bitlets needed to survive. Whether it was the fuel he consumed or the environment, Prowl’s wells never trained so long as he sat with Jazz, the pump the temple to Primaprovided forever sucked energon from his nozzles, no matter how long he sat in service for. The priests said his was foster origin to the entire district as every bitlet and sparkling fuelled from his wells. How one mech, even one with his supply could do that made no sense to Prowl? It was Punch who explained it.

“Prima works through ya when ya sit on her throne,” Punch explained.

All Cybertronian life had begun in Prima’s forge, according to the beliefs of Polyhex. Prowl moaned as he saw himself in her image. She sat in the lap of Primus, King of the Gods, and progenitor of all nations. His spike filled her as she, so much smaller than her king, sat in his lap, her legs held up behind her knees. Jazz mirrored this pose as he was painted by the court painter. Went through the expected motions, speaking with his court. His cousins had their supporters and they were not so agreeable. Prowl found himself lifted of Jazz’s spike and held there on display, his gaping valve drooling lubricants. His optics bugged out as Jazz perched his tight aft on his hard spike. He brought no force to bear but allowed gravity to open Prowl’s aft on his spike.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Prowl cried as gravity slowly pulled his aft down on the giant’s massive spike.  His little hole was cleaved apart. Chained to his belt, Prowl’s plugged spike twitched and his ruined valve oozed a torrent of lubricants.

Jazz held one of his legs up under the kneed as he fragged Prowl’s aching, empty valve with his digits. Prowl mewled as those digits stimulated his gamma cluster and made his valve gush as his afthole was destroyed by the giant’s spike. His wells grew firm as they engorged and Jazz pulled the clamps off his nozzles which immediately started to leak. Before the entire court, Prowl was debauched. It cowed them, somehow, though it would surely only be temporary. Runamuck and Runabout were Straxus’ natural creations and even though the throne did not pass in such a manner, they felt entitled to it by being his first emerged. Jazz would have to prove himself a worthy king at every step to ensure he had support should they wage a rebellion.

Prowl drank pressed energon as he sat impaled on Jazz’s hard spike. His aft throbbed around the plug that prevented the transfluids Jazz had spilled in him did not leak out. It was a huge plug, carved from a rare gem. It only made him feel fuller as his valve twitched around the giant’s monster spike. His belly bulged out well passed his knees. It was not only Prima working through him when he sat as fount but Primus working through Jazz. The newsparks in his forge were growing quickly, far more quickly than the normally would have. Jazz had booked him for two contracts. How loose would his belly, wells and holes be when the Prince was done?

“What about there?” Prowl pointed at the map. Jazz was searching for the site of an ancient aquifer that could hopefully be renewed and resolve all of Polyhex’s fuel shortage problems. The topography he had noticed looked to be close to an ancient underground river.

“Check there first,” Jazz ordered.

“But…” the engineers looked down at Prowl, so small and debauched in their king’s lap.

“My future queen is brilliant,” Jazz declared and Prowl flushed as the lie continued. “’N singularly blessed by Prima and Primus together. Check there first.”

The aquifer was found where Prowl had suspected it might be, blocked only by an old rock fall, restoring it took an orn, rather than vorns. Jazz stood by an ancient waterfall, just above what had once been a lush garden. He was posed as Primus with Prowl as Prima skewered on his spike and his huge, firm belly on display. The sounds of the river restored roared in Prowl’s audios and he overloaded with a cry as the waterfall was reborn. One by one the hanging pools filled, promising the rebirth of the long dry gardens. All those who gathered bowed and sang blessings.

“Long Live the King. Long Live the Queen. Long Live the Queen!”

“But I am not queen,” Prowl argued later as Jazz massaged oil into his belly. Prowl could not even wrap his arms around it anymore. There was no question he had kindled giant newsparks.

“No reason ya can’t be,” Jazz replied.

“There are many,” Prowl countered. “Namely, you contracted me to carry. You did not court and conjunx me.”

“I can court ya now,” Jazz offered and Prowl flushed. “To their thinkin’ I put bitties in yer forge so I conjunxed ya. Things are different in Polyhex , Prowl.”

“Were you ever planning to return me to Praxus?” Prowl asked. “Or was it easier to pay for my forge rather than find a consort you actually wanted?”

“What makes ya think I don’t want ya, Prowl?” Jazz asked. “I had every intention o’ returnin’ ya home ‘n I have every intention o’ doin’ just that if it’s what ya’d rather.”

“Clients are not meant to fall for surrogates,” Prowl argued, a little distressed by all the new developments falling onto him at once. They had found five newsparks when they had scanned his forge, giants and little bitlets growing together and all growing in line with their spark’s code.

“I don’t know how any o’ yers didn’t,” Jazz said. “Y’re perfect.”

“Oh…” Prowl murmured.

“Don’t ya like doin’ more than forgin’?” Jazz asked. “Don’t ya like usin’ yer processor advisin’ me?”

“I do,” Prowl replied. “They do not like you listening to me.”

“They don’t matter,” Jazz argued. “The citizens think ya embody Prima. They’d despair to see ya go.”

“They do not need me the same way as they did,” Prowl countered. “Now that the pools have refilled and the gardens are coming back to life.”

“The line at the temple ain’t any shorter now than it was,” Jazz replied. “Yer energon is more pure than anythin’ from a river. Prima blesses ya ‘n ‘em as ya sit as faunt. There’ll always be mecha that need ya for this.”

“I can try being your queen,” Prowl said. “For however long this whim lasts.”

[unsanitarystation]

All I’m saying is, I bet after having all those bitlets single mommy Sentinel would have a weak pelvic floor. Just dribbling piss and lubricant down his thighs, desperately aroused at the way life has gone for him! Leaving puddles all over the house or the office, little spurts of piss squirting free whenever anyone thrusts into his gushy valve. Overloading so hard he fully loses control and can’t tell where the orgasm ends and the accident begins.

His coworkers probably think it’s cute when they’re making him clean his own mess with their transfluid joining the puddle beneath him.

hrghh… yes, after three bitlets there’s no way Sentinel’s pelvic floor stayed the same. It’s terrible, the contents of his waste tank seem to just dribble out throughout the day. Sometimes he moves too fast or stretches his legs out more than he should and the change in pressure has him squirting piss straight into his panels, and he doesn’t have a strong enough pelvic floor to clench hard and stop it before it can start dripping down his thighs…

mhmmm when a spike is driving into his valve he’s completely helpless to stop himself from leaking with each thrust. People seem to have noticed because now they drive into his pussy harder, angling their spikes so that they hit his waste tank and get to see his valve pissing for a moment before he finally manages to clench hard enough to stop it. If he leaks in the office he ends up having to clean it up on his hands and knees, the position terrible for his swollen waste tank, which begins to leak a whole new puddle under him.

When he gets knocked up again, the weight of his forge is just so great he can’t physically hold it in at all anymore. Sentinel can’t stay in the office because it would be even more humiliating if everyone knew he’s been pissing eagerly into his chair for months now, not even bothering to get up anymore because he knows he’ll just leak over the floor anyways…

[cozzzynook]

I came across you blog and I adore your stories.

I was wondering if we could get a smut story of Ratchet going to pound town on his pretty sparked Conjrux Drift?

Ratchet doesn’t spare his conjunx even if he is sparked.

Ratchet slips two digits in Drifts squelching valve that clamps down and cycles before darting his tongue inside drinking up the excess lubricant that drenches and streams out of Drifts slowly expanding valve with every month his frame grows their sparkling. Ratchets found that the further along Drift gets in his carrying, the wetter his valve gets.

Ratchet sparks a low pulse of electricity from his digits in a series of short patterns as he slides his servo deeper inside Drift dragging his palm heavy against the gripping walls that squelch nastily and squeeze for dear life as his conjunx tries to arche his back struts. That heavy sparkling Ratchet pumped into his forge makes it almost impossible for Drift to do more than shift his stabilizers and curl the tips of his pedes.

The sight of Drift so full of his sparkling writhing with charge as he grips the sheets with Ratchets transfluid dripping down his lips has him breaking the scene.

With Drift’s explicit permission and color green he slams his spike deep into Drift’s forge and tries to fuck another bitlet inside him.

He felt every bit of charge on both their frames sparking each other into a frenzy. Drift smelled so fertile and delicious he couldn’t help spilling his load of transfluid into him.

He felt Drift’s valve clench down and could feel how his forge greedily sucked up every bit he had to offer. He wasn’t satisfied with only giving his conjunx this much.

He wanted to give him more.

He wanted Drift to stretch out even further with how full he planned to pump him.

By the end of this, he wanted another sparkling to gestate in another tank right along side this one. He wanted Drift to get bigger and bigger after birthing this sparkling, his tanks too busy growing the next while having just finished their current one.

He wanted to keep him nice round and bred. His valve blown out and his forge forever open.

Ratchet felt his spike burst another load of transfluid data into Drift’s valve port and he smirked.

He was going to make it his mission to ruin his conjunx.

Also i’m so sorry i should’ve said it when i originally posted this. Thank you 😭

[broachingoils]

Elevating Forging Performance: How Hatebur Approved Lubricants Make a Difference

Forging is an art that demands precision, strength, and consistency. To achieve peak performance in forging operations, one crucial element is the choice of lubricants. Hatebur approved lubricants have emerged as a game-changer in the industry, making a substantial difference in the quest for superior forging performance. In this article, we will explore how Hatebur approved lubricants have the power to elevate forging performance and the significant impact they make in this demanding and intricate process.

The Indispensable Role of Lubricants in Forging

Lubricants in forging operations are far more than just auxiliary substances; they are essential components with a broad spectrum of functions:

Friction Reduction: Lubricants minimize friction between the workpiece and the forging dies, reducing wear on equipment and extending the lifespan of tools.

Enhanced Material Flow: Proper lubrication ensures the smooth and uniform flow of material, resulting in higher precision and fewer defects.

Heat Dissipation: Lubricants help dissipate heat, preventing overheating during the forging process.

Prevention of Seizures: Lubricants prevent the workpiece from sticking to the die surfaces, ensuring a smooth and precise forging process.

How Hatebur Approved Lubricants Make a Difference:

Exceptional Lubricity: Hatebur approved lubricants are celebrated for their exceptional lubricity. This characteristic significantly reduces friction, promoting precise and uniform metal flow. The result is less wear and tear on forging dies and tools, leading to extended equipment life and reduced maintenance costs.

Precision Enhancement: These lubricants are meticulously designed to enhance precision in forging operations. They play a pivotal role in the production of components with tight tolerances and minimal defects, a vital aspect in industries where quality and consistency are paramount.

Efficient Heat Management: Hatebur approved lubricants excel in heat dissipation, ensuring that the forging process remains within the desired temperature range. This not only prevents overheating but also maintains the integrity of the material, ultimately leading to higher-quality products.

Seizure Resistance: The risk of workpiece seizure is significantly reduced when using Hatebur approved lubricants. This ensures a smooth and uninterrupted forging process.

Material Compatibility: These lubricants are formulated to be compatible with a wide range of materials, enhancing their properties and finish.

Advantages of Using Hatebur Approved Lubricants:

Enhanced Efficiency: Reduced friction, efficient heat management, and minimized equipment wear lead to a more efficient forging process.

Superior Product Quality: The use of Hatebur lubricants results in higher precision and superior product quality, with tight tolerances and minimal defects.

Extended Equipment Lifespan: The lubricating and cooling properties of these lubricants extend the life of forging dies and tools, reducing maintenance and replacement costs.

Cost Savings: Reduced equipment maintenance, longer tool lifespan, and enhanced precision lead to significant cost savings for manufacturers.

In Conclusion:

Hatebur approved lubricants stand as a transformative force in the world of forging, elevating performance and contributing to the production of high-quality metal components. With their remarkable lubricity, efficient heat management, seizure resistance, and material compatibility, these lubricants are the key to achieving superior forging performance. Manufacturers that opt for Hatebur approved lubricants can expect improved product quality, extended equipment lifespan, and substantial cost savings, making them a valuable asset in the pursuit of forging excellence.

[diabolus1exmachina]

Aston Martin One-77 (property — before being seized by Swiss authorities — of the son of the leader of one of the most corrupt governments in Central Africa)

In keeping with its tradition of producing limited edition, hand crafted exotica for the wealthy aficionado, best exemplified by the DB4 GT Zagato of the 1960s, Aston Martin previewed its proposed One-77 'hypercar' at the 2008 Paris Motor Show. 'The finished One-77 made its official debut in April 2009 at the Concorso d'Eleganza Ville d'Este, held on the shores of Lake Como in Italy, winning the 'Award for Concept Cars and Prototypes'. Designed by Marek Reichman, it was the fastest and most powerful Aston Martin ever built, with a top speed of 220mph, and also the most expensive, carrying a price tag of £1,150,000. Hailed by its maker as "possibly the world's most desirable automotive art form", the One-77 with its long bonnet and short tail was every inch the classically proportioned Gran Turismo, combing muscular pugnacity and feline grace in equal measure. A two-seater closed coupé, the One-77 featured advanced technology in the form of an immensely rigid and lightweight carbon fibre monocoque chassis, which carried a seamless body traditionally handcrafted in aluminium. Made from a single sheet of aluminium, each front wing was said to take one craftsman three weeks to produce.  Other state-of-the-art features included bi-xenon headlamps with integrated LED side lights and direction indicators, LED rear lamps (fog and reverse), carbon fibre front splitters, carbon fibre rear diffuser, and active aerodynamics with deployable spoiler. Providing the horsepower needed to breach the magic 200mph barrier was a stretched (to 7.3 litres) version of Aston Martin's existing 48-valve V12 engine. Extensively reworked by Cosworth Engineering, it produced 750bhp and 553lb/ft of torque, and was the world's most powerful normally aspirated road-car engine at the time of the One-77's introduction. Cosworth's extensive re-engineering included fitting dry-sump lubrication, which enabled the V12 to be carried 100mm lower in the One-77's chassis than in that of the DB9. Like the V8 in the One-77's Vantage sister car, the V12 engine was mounted towards the centre of the chassis, well aft of the front axle line in the interests of optimum weight distribution, to which end the six-speed automatic/manual transmission was located at the rear in the form of an integrated transaxle. Power was transmitted to the limited-slip differential by a carbon fibre prop shaft encased in a magnesium alloy torque tube, reaching the road surface via 20" forged alloy wheels - 7-spoke or 10-spoke - shod with Pirelli P Zero Corsa tyres.

Unusually for a road car, the One-77's all-independent suspension featured pushrod actuation of the adjustable mono-tube dampers, a system more commonly found in modern competition cars. There were double wishbones at all four corners: the front incorporating anti-dive geometry, and the rear anti-squat and anti-lift. The suspension was also electrically adjustable for both ride height and rate change.

The rack and pinion was power assisted, delivering 3.0 turns lock-to-lock, while the steering column was adjustable for both tilt and reach. Braking was supplied by carbon ceramic discs all round, gripped by six-piston callipers at the front, four-piston callipers at the rear. Dynamic Stability Control (DSC), Anti-lock Braking System (ABS), Electronic Brakeforce Distribution (EBD), Emergency Brake Assist (EBA), and traction control were all incorporated in the interests of controllability and safety. Releasing the driver's door, which swings out and arcs upwards, the One-77's fortunate owner would be confronted by a leather-trimmed sports steering wheel, electrically adjustable lightweight memory seats, and dual-stage driver/passenger front airbags. Other interior features included automatic temperature control, a trip computer, and touch-sensitive map-reading LED lights. Powerfold exterior memory mirrors came as standard, while front/rear parking cameras were an option. Number '35' of the 77 built, this EU model has a legend engraved on the door sill stating that it was 'Hand built in England for Theodore N'Guema Obiang Mangue'. Finished in red with red-piped cream interior, the car is offered with Equatorial Guinea registration papers.

[staticnonapus]

If Bayverse Grimlock’s spike is too big for Oppy, then why not try his tongue???

I’d like to think grimlock has ridges and bumps on his big Dino tongue.The tip of his tongue can push into the forge and prop up Optimus’s abdomen plating from the inside. The texture is gonna grind through all the good spots…making his prime whimper in pleasure and leaking lubricants nonstop.

Grimlock would be sucking and licking all the juice out of that array…he’s gonna suck him like a pack of capri sun

[mychlapci]

TFP Ratchet in an abandoned mine giving birth. Squatting on the ground and screaming. Trying to push his sparkling out. Lubricant and birthing fluid forming a puddle underneath him.

heu hua… hrrgh. Ratchet didn’t want to bother the rest of team prime by putting all this pregnancy stuff on their shoulders, he already feels like an extra weight all the time, and part of him really hoped he was going to reabsorb the newspark before it could grow this much, making this merely a passing problem… mhmmm I can imagine he could have started giving birth on a mission, or that he’d bridged himself to a scouted mine because he didn’t want anyone to hear him. I like the latter, I think he’d rather stubbornly hide away and do it himself, because he’s a medic, he knows what he’s doing. 

hrghh Something about squatting during birth just has me on the floor… Ratchet’s barely holding onto the wall of the cave, his knees as far apart as he can get them, hips and lower back aching. His belly doesn’t really show, not with his armour clasped over his abdomen, so the sparkling is not very big, but it sure as hell feels like it is. He’s screaming with every push, thighs quivering, the duct of his forge opens with a hot splash of energon pouring out of his valve and he just bucks his hips and presses both his arms against the rocky wall, whole body shaking… 

Part of me really wants someone to find him– a group of vehicons on patrol, perhaps, Megatron having a walk, fuck man, I want Ratchet to realize that he’s not alone and just whimpering into his hand, mouth trembling as he tries so hard to keep quiet… The sparkling is crowning, it’s almost over, he just needs to push a few more times… Maybe someone finds him with a sparkling hanging from between his legs… Maybe they miss him completely and the relief he feels upon realizing they’re gone has him shuddering as the sparkling slips out of him.

I wonder what he’d do with it… Ratchet doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d just leave it to die. Maybe he takes it back and hides it in his room? It’s innocent, never did anything wrong, after all...

[witchofthesouls]

The Dionysian Effect

We need more religious festivals and symbolism of the Thirteen incorporated into TFP since they were deities and I want more lore, so here’s a peak of the Megatronus Prime sex cult with Soundwave being devout follower

(Heads up: drug-induced sex):

The first sparklings on Cybertron descended by a union of Megatronus and Solus. The Prime of Chaos took the Prime of Creation upon the aftermath of the Thirteen’s triumph against the Unmaker. He filled her divine frame with his holy essence. For Thirteen days and Thirteen nights they were joined and that passion internally crafted a Forge when Life took root in her spark and made it possible to bring newsparks into the world.

Primus blessed their union by allowing all Cybertronians similar equipment to mimic the First Conjunx.

It mattered not if her other brothers had laid with her as well, nor if Solus' final Gift was the Well of Allsparks. To this day, all newsparks emerge from their carrier's frame with only their base instincts to guide them, full of wants and fears, soft-plated and blind, mewling and crying.

By that union, Megatronus and Solus left them their greatest legacy: to ignite life between their mortal frames and sacred sparks outside of the Well.

___________

The Marks of the blended insignias of Megatronus and Solus wavered in the very air, flashing liquid gold and bright blue, and all he could taste the thick, syrupy sweetness on his glossa. The strange vines undulating across his frame, between his legs, and within his throat as he clung onto the stuck pair of hips, overloading into the tight valve.

The wall suddenly gave away into nothingness, and he quickly wrestled the other squirming frame to the ground, wrenching arms and deploying data-cables to pin them down. Seeking out the warm, wet valve again, rocking into the clenching mesh as he silently mouthed the Litany of Solus into heated neck-cables, inhaling the sudden release of ozone, burnt circuitry, and lubricant. The stranger wailed beneath him, hips attempting to move but she -a data-cable had found a secondary valve and made it its home -could only twitch, vents expelling immense heat as the wild field immediately snapped and synched into his own.

Soundwave groaned at the hot charge clawing down his frame and the last vestiges of sanity and repressed code broke, his denta sank into the neck-cables and began to rut into the pliant, wanting valve.

When Megatronus claimed Solus, it was not on a bejeweled altar of an exalted temple under perfumed incense and controlled words of high-caste priests. Closeted away from the outside world and its taint of filth and savagery.

No, he claimed her in the dirt on Primus' scorched and blood-soaked ground, directly on their Creator’s very alt-mode in the very wilds.

Their frames were the temple. Their energon and fluids were the anointing oils. Their sparks were the hymns.

Soundwave was a dutiful spark; even with his visor blackened and neural net seared from the raw code-related ecstasy and drug-induced mania, his vows were upheld even when the dark caverns and stained grounds that he pledged upon were long gone, ravaged by warfare and Cybertron's demise.

And on this strange, organic planet in the middle of absolute nowhere, here lied an artifact of his chosen God and his Conjunx, so they shall consecrate the hidden cave with nothing but themselves and claim it the old way.

[beevean]

https://youtu.be/ZpsdxiDkHwg?si=vvIR8s5XxyaDuGWy

Remember when the first show explained that Vampires fear crosses because their shape confused their senses or some shit? 'Cause this show doesn't

Also I would tell you to look at the comments....but don't

Yeah, I do. I pointed it out as well. In theory I would like that the answer to the question "why do vampires fear religious symbols? and what about non-Christian vampires?" was "they are weak to the symbols of the religion they were raised with", so even if Annette doesn't believe in the Christian God, she can use His power against Vaublanc because he used to be Christian in life. That's a good compromise that works in a setting that acknowledges non-European cultures!

But the OG show already established that vampires don't like crosses because their vision is messed up and "geometric shapes confuse the shit out of their brains". This is a dumbass explanation on par with "Twilight vampires sparkle in the sun because their skin is made of marble and they can move around because venom lubricates the cells", but sadly it's canon, and it's too late to fix it, unless you want to paint Trevor as a complete idiot who doesn't even know how the creatures he hunts for a living work. (then again, the show would do that :V)

But what can you expect from the series that can't even establish the internal rules of Devil Forging, from the stupid ass water-blessing zombie to the DEVIL FORGING MACHINE? From the series that randomly includes the presence of vampire children but treats their killings as a horrible crime the Belmonts have done, and not as a result of the vampires' depravity, as if they were having children in a natural way because they're actually elves in a vampire skin?