#How to Recharge Solar Lights

[tangiblesolar]

How to Recharge Solar Lights: Ultimate Guide for a Sustainable Energy Source

To recharge solar lights, simply place them in direct sunlight for several hours, allowing the solar panels to absorb energy and charge the batteries. Solar lights are an energy-efficient and eco-friendly lighting option that harnesses the sun’s power to illuminate outdoor spaces. They are easy to install, require minimal maintenance, and can provide a soft, ambient glow to enhance the…

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Basically, it’s discovered that to help stabilize Danielle, aka Ellie, it’d be best to have her be smaller. She refused to be turned into a kid by Frostbite/her own power ability, when Danny remembered the shrink ray his parents made. The side effect is that they’re kind of stuck as humans when they’re that small—they can use some ghost powers, but basically, it’s a weird side effect of the shrink ray. That’s canon, by the fucking way, lmao

Anyways, so Ellie agrees, and Danny will shrink himself with the ray to her size to help her out when needed/when she wants company her size, with Jazz, Sam, and Tucker occasionally helping out. Sam buys one of those really ornate Victorian dollhouses, with wooden everything, and Danny does some… renovations… so that it no longer opens and is a proper house. There’s still some oddities because it’s a dollhouse originally, but it was easier and faster to give her a home. One of the first additions was a water/wastewater system, followed like two hours later by an electrical system. Since it was so small, Danny was able to do it fairly quickly in his big size, occasionally going small and using the small window for using his powers to double check on things.

The water system had to be refilled every week, unless hooked up to a plumbing system in a house, which Danny made some outlets for in Jazz’s room—it was easier and had significantly less questions/didn’t stand out as much if placed in Jazz’s room. They usually did it every three days, though, as the plug-in process was still a bit… hinky. The tanks for holding the water were in the ‘basement’, which was mostly inaccessible from the inside of the dollhouse but basically looked like a big stand the dollhouse stayed on. Like someone ripped a full house out of the ground WITH the basement attached. There was a small access hallway down some stairs in the house for the clean water system, though.

The electric system was fairly simple, as it didn’t cost much energy to light a dollhouse and heat/cool water. There was an AC unit, Ellie’s request, but it hardly was used and was fairly efficient just due to pure size. It was fueled by ecto batteries, which Danny made sure had a few rechargability options—just because it was efficient energy didn’t mean it didn’t ever need recharging. There was a very small ecto filter, but due to its relative small size, was easy to clean and was fairly stable, so they had a whole closet of them just chilling out, both filled and empty. The battery itself could be charged by ecto sources, Danny’s own blood, or ambient ectoplasm gained by using something that looked like a solar panel and a satellite dish had a child that the batter could be placed in. The hookup also allowed for like… normal D cell batteries.

They would buy dollhouse furniture, and occasionally just buy the big version then shrink it down. Ellie had a huge old house to herself, basically, might as well go ham. And she had a fun time with the designer doll clothes Sam liked to get, although the cheap doll clothes from the store were also fun. Best option was just buying normal clothes and shrinking them, but using things that were already small or just making stuff using normal sized objects was fun.

At some point, though, the Fenton siblings decide to go on a trip. Ellie begs to be taken along, and Jazz agrees—there’s a doll showcase in Gotham, and Jazz wanted to see if anything caught Ellie’s interest. Danny, having a room in the dollhouse himself, also went along. Might as well make it a sibling’s trip, right?

Ellie can be full size for small chunks of time, which they did while exploring the expo. They found some cool things to add, and some doll clothes Ellie was far too interested in trying on, as well as some to force on Danny later. He sighed, but like—that’s his little cousin-sister, he’d put up with it. After all, he learned how to plumb an entire (miniature) house in two days when she refused to move in until it had a fully functional bathroom, so.

Anyways!

They have a fun time, and sure, lugging the relatively giant dollhouse was a PAIN, but it was Ellie’s home, and some stabilizing tech made it relatively safe to move without risking everything freaking breaking. They load everything in again, and the dollhouse is now restocked with clothes, tiny furniture, and a lot of shrunken supplies—some foods are just hard to work with full size, and are easier to shrink, okay? Also soap, paper goods, pencils and pens, books, etc. Jazz loads the thing into her car, and Danny offers to stay with Ellie in the dollhouse—so Jazz gets them in, and shrinks them down, holding onto the shrink ray in the meantime.

All is going relatively well in Gotham traffic until there’s a rogue attack.

Go figure.

Jazz ends up unconscious, and Danny and Ellie can’t do anything before the rogue is taken care of and a paramedic team comes up. They hide back in the dollhouse, listening as the medics say she seems to be okay, just unconscious. A relief, but now they’re taking Jazz away. Fenton luck states she’s one of the few actually injured. The Bat Brigade comes by, and Batman notices that there’s a wallet for one Danny Fenton. Red Robin confirms that Jazz was likely here with at least two other people, based on the ticket stubs for the expo. However, there is a strange lack of social media presence, Danny doesn’t have a photo ID, and there’s no way of knowing for SURE that it was just Danny with her, if it was just two other people, or if Danny was in the car with her. Still, as they can’t find him but DO have his sister and his wallet, they assume he might be missing, possibly kidnapped.

The Gotham PD of course take in the car, although it’s pretty trashed. Knowing well and good that the dollhouse and such things are actually quite expensive, Commissioner Gordon mentions that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Batman to maybe hold onto the Fenton’s things that *aren’t* related to the investigation.

Batman just takes everything. Including a rather peculiar looking gun that seems to have sustained some damage during the attack and car crash.

Gordon sighs. Figures.

So, Danny and Ellie end up in Wayne Manor. Most of the things end up in the Batcave, but Alfred insists that they place the doll things upstairs in the manor proper—the cave isn’t *that* damp, but doll things are small and delicate. So, upstairs they go.

At first, it’s fine. Danny and Ellie are fine in the dollhouse, and it’ll be at least a week before any of the systems NEED to be worked with.

Then Ellie ends up with a massive migraine. She gets them, on occasion, a sort of growing pain. Usually, they just shrink some medicine for her as she needs it, because she’s like—twelve. While they did have some medicine that had been pre-shrunk, when they were stocking up in Gotham, it turns out pain medicine was more expensive there. Not by much, but they figured—they’ll just stock up in Amity Park, they’ll be there in two days.

Haha. Nope.

So, Danny finally has to venture out. He lucks into finding the first aid kit—why there was one in the main living room, he’s not sure—and is currently working on trying to get open the blister packet of an ibuprofen when Alfred finds him.

Alfred stares at this tiny boy with a tiny make-shift knife trying to get into… over the counter pain medication.

Danny stares at this butler guy who had very gently cleaned the outside and noted the strange fact that the dollhouse did not open.

Danny waves at Alfred.

Alfred waves a tiny finger back.

“Hello,” Alfred says softly, which is fantastic because loud noises could get painful—part of the reason for Ellie’s headache was an argument between Tim and Damian. “How do you do?”

Danny hesitates, before he makes an exaggerated so-so gesture.

“You understand me?”

Danny nods—it’s rare for people to understand what he’s saying when he’s 5 inches tall.

“How wonderful,” Alfred smiles. “And how can I help our young guest tonight?”

Danny gestures to the blister packet.

“Pain medication? Isn’t that a little bit large for you.”

The teen thinks for a second on how to communicate. He points to the pill, then makes a slight show of pretending to grind something, like a mortar and pestle.

Thankfully, Alfred got the idea. “Would it be easier if I ground it up for you?”

Danny takes a moment to think before accepting with an enthusiastic nod.

“Very well,” Alfred says, taking the blister packet in one hand. He then hold his other out, palm up, like a platform. “Would you like to come with me?”

Danny ‘his survival instincts died when he did’ Fenton gets into Alfred’s hand.

Alfred grinds up the pill into a fine powder. Danny hands him a tiny bottle—still large in Danny’s hands, as it was not a shrunk bottle—that he had tied around his waist. Alfred fills it, and hands it back.

“I assume you came from the tiny house we have in our living room?”

Danny again nods. Alfred takes him there, setting him down outside the front door. Danny bows, and sure it’s Japanese as hell, and he’s white as all get out, but it’s a generally understood gesture of thanks. He hopes.

Alfred understands it just fine. “I bid you goodnight, then. Perhaps we will talk more, when you are feeling better?”

Danny hesitates, again, but he nods. Alfred had been nice enough, so far.

Danny heads in, quickly measuring out the medicine—shrunk pressure plates and scales and weights made what it was measuring relative—to him the weights on the hand balance scale felt the same weight. Ellie got her medicine, and they both went back to sleep.

He told her in the morning what happened. Ellie was strangely gung-ho about meeting this butler guy, and so—when no one else was around—, she and Danny went onto the tiny balcony as Alfred came in to dust.

“Oh my,” he said. “There’s two of you, now. Should I expect more?”

Both of them did an exaggerated ‘no’ dance.

“Very well, I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself. I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler. Welcome to Wayne Manor.”

[muletia]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 ₊˚⊹♡

obsessed!smokescreen x human!reader

summary: you and smokescreen are trying to watch a movie, but his irresistible and constant need for closeness stubbornly gets in the way. will you make it to the end? (spoiler: you won’t)

cw: fluff, suggestive, obsessive thoughts, unhealthy clinginess, possessiveness, very mild not nsfw dub-con, biting/marking, very light manipulation from smokey

word count: 1570

Your eyelids grow heavier and heavier. Consciousness drifts into another dimension, and your head slowly tilts forward further as you lose contact with reality and embrace sleep with open arms. But alas, sleep is not meant for you—not yet. Your boyfriend is keeping watch, ensuring you continue your fight to stay awake. And when he's near you, he seems unusually attuned to moments like these.

"Hey, hey, don't drift off on me now," he pleads, voice desperate, because this isn’t your first slip-up. "We just started the movie!"

"Ah, sorry," you mumble, rubbing your face to try and wake yourself up, which works. For now.

Your attention returns to the flickering TV screen in the garage, and for a moment, you really do feel alert. You're not proud of how easily you drift off, especially with company, but the day's events are catching up to you, pulling your eyelids downward. You’d promised him you’d finally finish this movie together— you’ve both tried to get through it multiple times, only to be interrupted every single time by something—or rather, someone.

That someone is none other than your personal heater sitting next to you, the primary disruptor of your small private movie nights.

And, as you catch him from the corner of your eye, it's clear he’s got a new idea for spicing up your passive movie-watching routine. His broad smile is utterly contagious, and you fight hard not to let your lips curl. It’s endearing, but you’re not falling for it—not yet. You know exactly where this evening will go if you give him your attention. After all, you’ve lived this scenario many times before.

"Optics on the screen," you chide softly. "We just started the movie, hypocrite."

"Oh, I am watching," he replies, with mock indignation.

"Not me!" you sigh. "We’re not restarting this movie for the tenth time. Look at the screen." You motion toward the brightest source of light in the room.

He knows he should listen. He’s the one who suggested the movie night in the first place. He also chose the film—one of your favorites—because he wanted to experience it with you, to watch your reactions, hear your thoughts, and discuss it afterward. All of it was just a way to interact with you, to be showered in your attention. To absorb it like the finest energon, savoring its addictive sweetness.

It’s not his fault that everything you do is infinitely more interesting than any fiction on the small screen. Sure, he likes human culture and finds it genuinely fascinating—but only because you’re at its center. You’re the one who reveals its secrets, who offers him glimpses of the daily life he so desperately wants to be a part of. Watching movies together lets him simulate that life. He knows he should use every chance to learn more about your world. The problem is, he can’t focus.

It’s not as if there are moments when he thinks of you more or less. No—he’s always thinking about you. Seven days a week, every hour of Earth’s solar cycle. During missions, patrols, recharge—even when he’s with you. It’s suffocating, overwhelming his processor, a constant need to express his untamed emotions, but with no outlet to relieve the ever-growing weight.

Having you by his side is wonderful—feeling your scent, your warmth; brushing shoulders and sharing a blanket. But, ever ambitious, he needs more. Thoughts of you provide only fleeting satisfaction, failing to meet even a fraction of his desire. They leave him helpless once again.

Smokescreen doesn’t want to be just an observer anymore, a witness to the action around him. Those days died with Cybertron.

He wants to feel, touch, and explore, even though he already knows every inch of your body—every mole, scar, and birthmark. Alien, but captivatingly beautiful. Unparalleled softness. Addictive. Meant to be worshipped and adored. It’s no surprise his servos fit your curves perfectly, as if you were made for each other—not just in spark, but in body too. No stimulant could compare to the euphoria of adoring you. No human cinematic masterpiece, no mission, no praise from Optimus Prime himself.

"You’re incorrigible," you sigh. "You just missed the most important part."

Suddenly, he realizes he’s spent the last several kliks staring only at you, fantasizing about physically expressing all the emotions roiling within him. His servos are trembling now, and he has to touch you—to prove how much you mean to him, how vital you are in his life.

Electricity courses through his frame—a signal of surpassing limits. He’s nearing a breaking point, teetering on the edge of abandoning the careful balance of your relationship. Can’t let that happen. He accepts destroying himself, allowing his yearning for you to dictate his sanity, but no scars could ever mar your soul. No matter how many he bears himself.

His trembling servos find the fabric of your shirt and gently tug at it. Enough to send a signal, not to frighten. If you pull away—he’ll shatter.

"Hey," he begins. You glance at him briefly, but your eyes quickly return to the screen. He tugs harder, practically pawing at your stomach now, desperate for attention. "Please, I don’t want to watch the movie anymore. We can finish it another time, can’t we?"

He knows he’s repeating himself, using the same lines he always does. It’s cheap and undignified, unworthy of someone whom even Optimus Prime considered passing the Matrix to. But his need has consumed him, taken over his frame and spark, which craves you so intensely that static buzzes in his audials. Every molecule of his being chants your name, begging for you.

He moves closer, exerting pressure. It’s a dangerous game, one that could easily irritate you. But he’s so desperate he has to play his cards on this gambit.

"I promise we’ll finish it next time, okay? [Name], please, I need you."

"We could also finish it tonight, hmm?" you offer.

"But I already missed the most important part."

"You’re smart—you’ll catch up on the plot." He sees your playful smile, teasing him with your intentions. But this time, he’s too overwhelmed to join in the game.

One servo continues tugging at the edge of your shirt while the other slides beneath it, cautious and precise—while he still has the control to be so.

You finally give in, unable to focus on the film any longer.

"Alright, I’ll hold you to that," you warn, finally turning your head toward him.

What greets you are wide, pleading optics, shimmering with need. Begging for you. Beautiful, but deceptive. Luring you into a trap. Or maybe you’ve already been ensnared? Enchanted into letting him do more—letting his servo wander further up, finding its way to your chest.

"Incorrigible," you murmur, tilting your head slightly to one side, exposing your neck—his canvas for the evening. "But at least I’m not sleepy anymore."

"Good," he purrs near your neck. Warm, processed air brushes against your sensitive skin. "I’m going to show you how much you mean to me. I’m afraid it’ll take a very long time."

Servos press tightly to your body, while dentas leave their mark, creating art from love bites—one of his favorite human inventions. Such a pity he couldn’t bear them himself—would flaunt them proudly if he could.

"I wish they lasted forever," he whispers, kissing the bruised skin, already intoxicated by your closeness, even though it’s only a fraction of what he craves.

"And I don’t," you admit. His response is a hurt whine, but Smokescreen quickly resumes his work, moving slightly higher. His marks always came out messy, more like bites than love bites, but he was so proud of them that you couldn’t bring yourself to criticize him. At least, not directly.

"One of my friends noticed them once. She thought I’d been mauled by a wild animal."

You feel him smile against your skin because it’s an accurate description of his love. Wild, untamed.

"Sorry," but it's also unimaginably tender. "But you like them, right? I’m good at this, aren’t I?"

"You’re unmatched, love."

Not sensing the sarcasm, he holds you tighter, as if he wants to merge you both into one being. Feels his trembling spark yearning for a bond, a union with yours. And while you can’t grant him that, the mere act of sharing the most intimate, vulnerable parts of himself is satisfactory. Not enough, because nothing ever will be. Just like the love bites, the most blissful interfacing, or kisses and cuddles. They work for a brief moment, a fraction of existence. They fill the void, which begins emptying the moment you part.

"I need more," he groans. "Please. I need you."

"I wish you were this eager about watching movies."

You reach for the remote because yet another movie attempt has ended in failure. Your boyfriend doesn’t appreciate your effort to put some distance between you, even for a few millimeters. His servos hold you firmly in place, and his dentas possessively catch your neck. Luckily, you don’t have to reach far.

"We’ll manage next time," he promises, though the absent tone of his voice makes it clear he’s lying. You know he won’t last. He’ll falter at the start, trying to make up for lost time by showering you with affection, though it’ll only be a fraction of what he wants to give.

"Hard to believe that."

"Mhm, love you too," he mutters, utterly enraptured by your closeness.

[maliciouscottonball]

Hear me out on the platonic Autobots what if someone or something was trying to break into the little one's House what would the reaction be 🤔!

Surprise Houseguests (Part 2)

Platonic Yandere! Autobots x GN! Human! Reader

Wordcount: 3255

AN: Thank you so much for the ask!!! It’s my very first one!!!! I wanted to write something fitting for the occasion so it took a bit longer than expected. I decided that a second chapter situation would be best to explain because I’m a certified yapper. It's a bit darker than the first part but I like it. I’ve been learning how to read and write in Cybertronian so I know for sure what I’m talking about. 😎 I like to think of the sound of Cybertronian engines as being like cat sounds. There are purrs, soft hums of life, startled silences, and roars and the scientific explanation is that it’s actually because they’re all my little meow meows. This hasn’t been beta read so please forgive any mistakes!

TW: Soft yandere behavior that turns significantly less soft at some points, the home offense system, robot violence, murder, medium stalking instead of light stalking, Optimus loving grammatical accuracy, silly alien robots being silly and significantly more creepy than last time

♡♡♡

Your Cybertronian lessons were going very well and you were learning quite a bit. You were progressing much more quickly than you expected. It was probably helped by the fact that since your mouth physically can’t pronounce anything in the language, you didn’t have to worry about that aspect. You were able to read simple stories and understand sentences with the words that you were learning. It certainly helped that you had a team of native speakers thrilled to help any time you called. 

Optimus was especially pleased with your progress. He would wait for your call every Friday evening, the day your schedule allowed you to finally stay up later than usual. It wasn’t like you had much else to do in such a small town in the middle of nowhere. His brutality in battle increased a hundredfold on those days, to the point where after watching him tear apart soldiers with his bare servos because he was angry that he might be late for your call, many Decepticon teams simply refused to fight any Autobots every seven solar cycles. Megatron was not happy but after reviewing recovered battle footage, understood and scheduled accordingly. It was better that way for everyone involved. Optimus was always very excited to teach you the meaning of new words and phrases and slowly transitioned his stories from English to Cybertronian. A former Iacon archivist was probably one of the best language, history, and culture tutors that you could’ve dreamed of. Optimus was an expert and it was the reason that he always spoke so formally. You remember during one of the visits that the team made to your home, he told you, “Even in the face of grave danger, there is always a place for eloquence, proper grammar, and correct syntax.”

You thought that he was joking. He, in fact, was not. He would affectionately correct your grammar and spelling in the messages that you would send him and always encouraged the others to do the same. He kept multiple copies of your messages in his hard drive, as did the rest of the team with their messages from you. Even though they were horribly spelled and sometimes borderline indecipherable in the beginning, they were deeply cherished. The younger and less mature bots would show each other each message before recharging, gushing about how cute and sweet you were, even when you were trying to have serious conversations with them. The older bots denied it but they listened in and found it endearing.

You had started making memes in a mixture of Cybertronian and English and sending them in a group chat to Bumblebee, Windblade, Jazz, and Wheeljack. You had tried to explain why they were funny to Ironhide, Optimus, and Ratchet but most of the time, they just looked at you with the most perplexed, mildly concerned, and very supportive expressions imaginable. Most of the time when you showed Ratchet your memes, he just stared at it for a little bit, patted you on the head, told you that he was glad that you were enjoying yourself, and started teaching you how to do a new type of basic repair on a Cybertronian. Ratchet was good at redirecting you into more familiar territory and the old mech was much more gentle about it with you than anyone else. You’d get the occasional chuckle from Ironhide and Optimus when you showed them but they seemed to enjoy just listening to you talk about anything and everything.

Something that both Optimus and Ironhide enjoyed significantly more than memes was playing games. You would play simple Cybertronian strategy games with them. It was rare that you won and the occasions that you did win were usually based on luck. That didn’t mean that you didn’t enjoy it. Quite the opposite, actually. You loved having them give you tips on what to do next and sometimes you would play as poorly as possible, just to get a reaction from them. You liked the stories about who Ironhide used to play the games with on Cybertron before the war. His voice would get soft and nostalgic. He seemed much more relaxed. It reminded you of how Optimus spoke when he was telling you a bedtime story. You enjoyed listening to Ironhide’s war stories while he drove you around but there was something so calming about his stories from before the war.

You liked Windblade’s stories too. You hesitated to go on rides with her at first because of how much she liked doing tricks to impress you but cruising at a steady altitude through the clouds with her was nice. You’d get much less nauseous that way. She did that quite a bit when she figured out that you liked it. You liked hearing about the titans and how she spoke to them. You thought that it was amazing that she could talk to such massive beings and that they’d understand her. Her perspective on the war was different than that of the mechs on the team and you liked hearing about what she had to say. She was the only femme that you knew and you liked spending time with her once she figured out how to handle you properly without scaring you.

Bumblebee and Jazz both loved goofing off with you. You’d watch movies and TV shows together and make plenty of commentary on the characters. You’d mostly end up laughing through whatever you were watching and making even more memes to go with them. You liked spending one on one time with each of them too. Bee would go racing with you through backroads and empty streets, keeping you buckled up tight as he sped around with you squealing and laughing in delight. He loved hearing you laugh and seeing you happy. Jazz would only occasionally speed around on your drives together. He would get you a treat to eat before he cruises around with you sitting in the luxurious interior of his alt mode, listening to old and new favorite songs with him. You would spend time finding new songs for each other every day and saving them up for when you inevitably went for another drive. You had playlist upon playlist of music to choose from with every genre imaginable. Jazz was who you went with if things were busy and you needed to escape from your worries for a while.

The Autobot team had been in contact with you for eight months before something went wrong. It wasn’t what was expected. The raccoons continued rummaging through your trash, even after the improvements made to the cans by Wheeljack and Ironhide. It had actually gotten worse after a month. You complained about it to Jazz while you were chatting with him on a call and he decided to see how they managed to do it that night while he was on watch. Jazz contentedly watched the feeds of each camera in your house while monitoring the surrounding area. He was watching your leg twitch in your sleep and recording it to show to Ratchet (just in case it was cause for concern, he rationalized) when there was abnormal movement detected outside where you kept your trash cans. He stopped recording you and then started watching the live footage from outside while starting a new recording.

There was a man digging through your trash.

A human man.

Unacceptable.

To his horror, the man went around your entire house and tried to open every door and window.

Something had to be done.

Jazz immediately woke Optimus and Ironhide and showed them the footage. The enraged roar of the Prime’s engine, the blaring of his horn, and the smell of the ominous black smoke billowing from his exhaust pipes were enough to startle the entire team awake, as well as the vast majority of the inhabitants of the town they were staying in.

The team abandoned their mission and immediately started driving back to your house at first light. It could wait. You could not. Optimus had wanted to start driving immediately and not stop until they had arrived but Ratchet had convinced him to reluctantly let the team finish their recharge. He sat in his alt mode and seethed the entire night. He couldn’t recharge. How could he ever recharge in that kind of situation? Someone was bothering his little one. Someone was creeping on you and he and his entire team were too far away to protect you. The flamethrower at the front door was disabled and the rest of the defense systems were made for raccoons and Decepticons. You were defenseless. The rest of the Autobots didn’t recharge all that well either. It was understandable. Trying to relax feet away from a Prime ready to eviscerate a member of the species that he swore to protect is not an easy task. 

On the familiar road back to your home, it was eerily quiet on the comms. The only time that anything was said was an hourly report of your whereabouts and activities, plus the occasional update when you messaged a member of the team. Optimus’s spark ached when you sent him a message about how you picked up some of the oil that he likes at the auto store. You really had no clue how much danger you were in and were just going about your day like usual. You really did need the Autobots to protect you.

When the team finally made it to your town after a few solar cycles, Optimus sent Windblade, Bumblebee, Wheeljack, and Ratchet to your home to guard you. As much as Optimus wanted to see you as soon as possible, he had something to deal with first. Ironhide and Jazz were going with him to help handle the situation. There was also the added benefit of you not being able to see him while he’s angry. He knew that his size made him intimidating under the best circumstances and he didn’t want to scare you with how upset he was.

Jazz had been tracking the man bothering you from the second that he showed Optimus and Ironhide the footage. He may be a more laid back bot but that didn’t mean that he let things like this slide. The man was going to hurt you. Jazz was not going to let that happen. If the angry energy radiating off of the Prime was bad for team morale, the cold energy from Jazz was worse. They were used to the mech being friendly even in life or death situations. 

Ironhide wasn’t about to let anything happen to you either. He had been teaching you self defense and would always affectionately refer to you as his little cadet. He would only let you use a low power blaster under the strictest supervision but he called it your training time. When you were done, he’d give you one of the treats he found during his missions and tell you how well you did. It was a nice change of pace for him. In his eyes, you were already an Autobot and he was known for keeping his team safe. He was less angry and more determined to eliminate the threat so that everything would go back to normal.

The rest of the team didn’t know the details of what was going on but they knew that you were under threat and the cause was a human. That was all they had to know while keeping a careful watch over you. Bumblebee figured that you didn’t know about the danger you were in and kept you close. He would peek through the windows as you got things from your house and make sure that you were no more than fifteen feet away from an Autobot at all times. You didn’t know why your friends were being so clingy but you were happy to be around them.

Windblade didn’t take you on any flights that day. You found it strange but you figured that she was just shaken up after a particularly bad mission. You were happy to try your best to comfort her and the rest of the team. You pulled up some funny videos that you had watched while they were gone and watched them on a data pad with her while she worked on one of her blasters and you worked on a small craft. You both giggled at some of the funniest parts and you were proud of yourself for making her smile when you gave her the necklace that you made for her. Her spark melted when you talked about putting felt on the back of the pendant so it wouldn’t scratch her finish. It was impossible for her not to smile around you but she didn’t tell you that. She wanted you to feel special.

Wheeljack occupied himself by improving your home defense system. There were going to be no more silly features that allowed you to turn them off outside of an extreme emergency. He sat you on his shoulder during less dangerous parts, explaining the intricacies of Cybertronian engineering to you. He spoke in Cybertronian for some of it and it was clear that he thought that you were further along in your studies of the language than you actually were. You didn’t understand most of what he was saying but you were happy to be included. After a few hours of intensive engineering lessons, he playfully shooed you away when he had to get advice from Ratchet on which weapons system would be the most effective against organics. 

Ratchet was surprisingly calm about everything. He gave you a check up and made sure that you hadn’t been hurt while they were gone. He was concerned about the random small bruises that regularly showed up on your legs and even more so about the fact that you didn’t know where they were from. He quickly realized that they were simply from your clumsiness and made you take an iron supplement while you watched him make small repairs on the team’s equipment. It worried him a bit that you were so prone to becoming damaged. He would have to research methods to keep you safe from yourself.

Jazz gave the location of the man to Optimus and Ironhide. The man lived in a cabin much deeper in the woods than you. Ironhide figured that living away from other humans was the man’s only redeeming quality. It would make neutralizing him much simpler. The three mechs transformed into their bipedal modes, not bothering to conceal themselves from the man. They could see his startled face peeking out from one of the windows and Ironhide and Jazz were equally startled when Optimus tore through the cabin like it was tissue paper to get to the man.

He snatched up the man, engine roaring once more and internal temperature rising to the point where he could smell flesh cooking in his servo. 

“You dare treat our little one like a creature to be preyed upon?” His voice boomed.

Optimus’s digits were crushing the man. It was difficult to tell at first but the man’s ears were bleeding. The sheer volume of the Prime’s rage had burst his eardrums. Ironhide and Jazz simply watched. They had all lost so much. They had sacrificed everything for their cause. It was okay to be selfish for once. It wasn’t even that selfish, Jazz had told Ironhide on the way back. They were taking care of you. You needed them to protect you from a threat to your life and happiness.

Squish.

Optimus crushed the man in his grip with a twitch of his digit. He then dropped the man onto the forest floor. The man had somehow survived and was simply staring up at the bots. There was a satisfaction in the Prime’s eyes that made the man even more afraid. The man couldn’t hear anymore but he could see. He could see the pleasure that the mech took in watching the life drained out of his body and all he could do was look up at him. Optimus stepped back and Ironhide took his turn standing over the man. Ironhide raised his blaster and glared down at the man.

BANG.

Suddenly, the problem had been solved.

The man hadn’t even left behind a corpse. He was incinerated by the shot and there was only a smear of carbon on the forest floor. Jazz stomped out the flames licking at the edges of the blast and seemed content. You were safe again and he was very happy with that. He gave a friendly smile to the other two mechs. He made sure that all of them were clean of any blood or unpleasant smells before they made their way back to your home. It was important that you didn’t know anything about their methods of protecting you. It was for your own good and none of them wanted you to be afraid of them. They wanted you to still want to be around them.

Optimus hummed a Cybertronian lullaby on the way back to your house. His mood was lighter as he walked back through the woods, back to you. You looked up from where you were sitting with Wheeljack when you heard the song rumbling from in the trees and your face lit up. You recognized the tune when you heard him from the times that he sang you to sleep with it and you eagerly ran up to him while telling him how much you had missed him and the others. That cheered his spark even more. He lifted you up in his servo, listening to you chatter at him and loving every second. He carefully ran a digit along your head and back, watching how you relaxed while he rubbed your back and smiling down at you. It was all that he could do to not coo at your cute behavior. He would never allow any harm to come to you. You were their perfect little one. 

You enjoyed your standard routine of learning and relaxing with the Autobots for the duration of their visit. They were even more doting than usual. You didn’t find it strange. You were just happy to hang out with them. You followed them around like a little duckling and acted very sweet towards them, just like always. You were such a wonderful human and they all adored you. The team had to leave after a few days and seemed much better off after their mini vacation with their favorite human. They resumed their regular communications with you and got back to their missions.

Optimus was a quiet mech outside of battle. His tendency to quietly look at and organize data hadn’t changed, even after millennia of war. He was reading a report while half listening to you and Bumblebee chatting over a call. It was comforting and gave him a sense of normalcy. He loved hearing your thoughts and ideas. You were so young and naive, especially compared to them. It was so refreshing to him and his team. Optimus smiled when he heard you excitedly tell Bumblebee that the raccoons were finally leaving your garbage alone. He gave Ironhide and Jazz a knowing look. Ironhide was doing maintenance on his blaster and Jazz was checking over the surveillance cameras in your home. They both returned his look with smiles. He and the Autobots were keeping you safe and they would continue to do so.

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Ten - Decisions

Part Nine

———

Cybertronian days were actually shorter than days on Earth, right around a twenty hour rotation and a four hundred solar cycle year. 760 hours worth of difference. For a cybertronian though, their light and dark cycles did not mean terribly much since it was typical to say up for cycles on end. Their lifespans are significantly longer than almost all organics in the vast universe.

—

Once it was dark, almost too dark to see, the heater kicked up and glowed brightly. Hound had started to finally keep track of the time and unless they were in winter, it shouldn’t be dark yet, but he decided to keep his mouth shut. Others had joined them, Breakdown wandering back over once his translator was calibrated to his preferences and several mecha that Jazz knew. It was interesting how the term seemed to carry over in a way. Mecha their company, the mech suits they pilot and the mecha they were now meeting. At least that is how it was described to him from Jazz, who was glowering at Hound as he made small talk with the one called Mirage, “You know, it took me a long time to get a hold on their language, then you all waltz in here with your fancy translators.” He was pouting, Hound smirks a bit as Mirage speaks up, “They can’t help that they have better upgrades than you do Jazz, you recharge in off hours, you miss out.” He shrugs, smirking.

”You know what Mirage, just cause you’re not wrong doesn’t mean you’re right.” Prowl snorted, tucking his head down, Jazz smiled and his visor brightened. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe shared a long look before shifting, one leaning against the other but it was hard to tell in the dark, “Yeah, we can’t help that our upgrades are just better than yours. What did you expect from Percy?” The other nodded and scratched at his jaw, “You know Jazz, we might have a spare on the shuttle, but that’s all the way out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, it’d be a long walk for you, less you want to race.” Hound groaned and put his face in his hands, “We are not racing across an unfamiliar planet just for a translator, I’m sure whenever we can get back to the Odyssey, it will still be there.” They both sighed deeply, “You’re no fun Hound.” Mirage shifted in his seat, leaning forward some, “You have racing on your planet? But, you don’t transform?” Hound was quick to send a message to the twins, glancing towards Jazz before shifting to sit up more even though he was getting very tired.

”Well, yeah. There’s this pilot, I mean, a guy back home named Blur. He’s won at least one championship in most major series, Formula One, NASCAR, Indy Car. Least, he did before the Quints showed up.” Sideswipe sounded sad, those two had loved the street races they had back home and were ecstatic to race any pilot who’d be willing. Mirage nodded slowly before shaking his head, “Those mean nothing to me, but if you like racing, you’ll have to visit Velocitron when the borders open back up.” Sunstreaker frowned slightly and shrugged, “Sounds fun, I think.”

Mirage seemed genuine, sure, Hound was pretty sure he was just spying on them for the sake of his boss but he still seemed like a nice enough person, “So, how did you four end up on a shuttle, flying into the vast unknown?” Nodding slightly, Hound knew the probing when it was there, but it was innocent enough, “Some of us volunteered for it,” “And some of us were volunteered.” Breakdown nods slightly to Jazz, but he still smiled a bit, “I’m glad to be here though.” Jazz nodded back before looking closer, his visor brightening slightly, “Hey, you’re the one who handled the Moscow attack in 96’ right?” Breakdown nodded, rubbing at his neck lightly, “That was a long time ago.” “Not that long ago, at least to the company I’ve kept recently.” Hound winced slightly, Moscow felt like a lifetime ago and it was just before he started piloting. More than a thousand pilots had died between then and when the twins were found compatible. Hound looked down and worried at his lip.

Sunstreaker, who’d moved closer to the heater so it was easier to see his yellow, spoke up, “Well, to answer your question Mirage, we volunteered. Least me, Sides and Hound did. It was around six months after Jazz disappeared that the list went around, a good chunk of names were still on it when I last saw it.” He sat back a bit, Sideswipe nodding, “Oh yeah, anyone who worked at Mecha and was compatible put their name on the list, you kidding?” Hound nodded, sighing a bit, “It’s going by seniority far as I can tell. Arcturus Two is going to be a one man mission, I think 2672 is next.” Mirage shifted and cleared his throat slightly, “Um, so do you guys pick your identification numbers or are they assigned?” Hound shared a look briefly with Jazz but Breakdown spoke up, “It’s our place in the line of the programming we went through for the work. I was the 1,457th pilot to come out the other side of the compatibility test. Jazz and Hound were found compatible before me, and I was before the twins.” he gestures mildly, though sitting back against one of the melted crates with a yawn.

It went quiet for a while after that, Mirage was staring at them, there were a lot of things clicking into place in his mind, Prowl knew it but had to keep his mouth shut for now not only Jazz’s sake but the others too.

“How many people went through this, programming?” Mirage’s voice was almost quiet, like he didn’t actually want the answer, Hound scratched his jaw lightly and looked up to the stars, “The newest pilot, was given the number 17,792.” Jazz jumped slightly and turned to Hound, almost knocking Prowl from their makeshift bench, “When I left we were in the eight thousands Hound.” Nodding, Hound continued to stare at the sky, “If you thought we dropped like flies before, it’s worse now.” Jazz stared at him, looking to the twins then Breakdown, they all nodded. There was no avoiding the truth, Mirage shifted uncomfortably before clearing his throat, “Two things, you keep using the term ‘pilot’ . Is there a reason for that?” Hound nodded, but Jazz spoke up before he could, “It’s just the designation we gave to those fighting the Quints, to distinguish them from civilians.” Nodding slowly, Hound cleared his throat, “Exactly.” The lie was painful, but necessary, “And two then, and I hate to ask, in the roughly thirty stellar cycles that the Quintessons have been attacking your planet, how many civilians have died?”

Hound’s mouth went dry, even as he stared at the sky avoiding eye contact. The twins shifted uncomfortably, it was a topic incredibly close to home for them, so the one to speak up was Breakdown, “Of strictly civilian deaths, since 1984, over one billion people. Just shy of thirteen percent of our global population.” Sunstreaker nodded, “And it’s only getting bigger every attack.” Hound continued to stare at the stars, lightly tugging on his dog tags.

—

Prowl had stayed until Jazz was in recharge, until they were all in recharge, before joining Mirage and the others in command to talk. He rubbed at his face plates, leaning against the table while Megatron was ranting, again, “They send them out to die, they build them to die, they’re the closest to disposables that we’ve seen!” Megatron’s fist connected with the projection table, cracking the screen, Optimus sighed deeply. Prowl was still holding his report, optics rolling to look at Mirage who was leaning against the wall, also clearly bored of the ranting, “They sent four of them to space, to find Jazz, who they thought was dead to recover data and expected them to die for it too.” Optimus had finally had enough, “Yes, we understand. But we are not their people, their government, or in a situation to help the people of their planet. We spoke of this earlier, we cannot change their minds in a day and they are here now where we will show them their worth.” He rubbed lightly at his chest, something he had started doing when Jazz arrived. Very few knew how he lacked the ability to feel Jazz’s spark and now five mecha who he couldn’t truly feel, it was not going to be pleasant.

Mirage clears his throat a bit and hands over a data pad, “I got to speak with them before they rested, they seem just as awkward as Jazz did when he first arrived except there is a mech called Percy who designed the translators they are using so it’s significantly easier to talk with them.” He gestures to the data pad, “This is what I’ve gathered for the moment, they are taking a lot of cues from Jazz but Hound is the commander of their mission.” Optimus nodded and flicked lightly through the report before handing it to Megatron, “Thank you Mirage.” He nodded and leaned back against the wall, Ironhide shifted forward, “We have a recovery team currently moving their shuttle, but uh, it seems terribly small.” He tosses a puck onto the table and it projects an image of the Odyssey, “Unless they strapped themself to the outside or can fold down into much smaller boxes, I don’t see what use it would have provided other than initial flight.” Prowl steps forward, gesturing, “I actually think it’s more of a storage shuttle, if you look here.” He points to the top of the shuttle and its seam down the length of the top, “I believe it splits open there, likely only while in space. And these,” he gestures to the gangway magnets, “Would have likely attached them to the shuttle.” Megatron throws his hands in the air and storms away, muttering about the treatment of mecha on the backwater world.

Once Megatron has cleared the room, Ironhide moves and takes his place at the table, clearing the image of the Odyssey to show the map of Cybertron, “We need to accept they are better equipped to fight the Quints than we are. As much as we all hate it, they were re-programmed to fight them.” Prowl takes a breath, resting a servo on the table, “We have to ask them to stay, same as we did with Jazz.” They stood there silently for a moment, Optimus slowly shook his head, “Asking Jazz is very different then asking all of them.” “Yes, but did you see them out there?” Ironhide pointed towards the battlefield, Prowl shifts and clears his throat, “Ironhide is right, it was projected that this battle would take cycles, and it was done within mega-cycles once they arrived.” He sighs slowly, offering his own datapad, “We have to ask them to stay, but we have guarantee to get them to Quintessa. It’s the only way that they will stay and fight for us.” It hurt, truly, any outcome was a death sentence.

—

When morning rolled around and the sun rose, Hound was the first up, he’d locked up the suit for the night and slept on the floor of his cockpit. Getting too old to sleep in the pilot's seat anymore. He sat on the floor and brought up the visual outputs as he got breakfast together, yawning. Hound stared, almost open mouthed at the sight before him. Jazz and Prowl were cuddling, that was to be slightly expecting, but the lingering mecha were not. It was a group of them wandering around their makeshift campsite, talking through comm’s Hound was certain. They were mostly unfamiliar, aside from Mirage who stood almost uncomfortably close to him, “Mech, these guys are sound sleepers.” Hound continued to sit there, eating slowly and watching with a deep frown.

One of the other mechs shrugged, “Jazz is the same, they’ll sleep the whole light cycle if we let them.” Moving over and crouching near Breakdown, the mech shines a light at it, “I don’t know what will wake them up though, less you think a wrench to the helm will?” Hound shifted into his pilots seat, stretching for a moment as he reactivated the motion adapters, his own visor lightly up. Mirage glanced over and smiled brightly, “Wow, one of them wakes at a decent mega-cycle.” Hound rolls his eyes and sits up, stretching again, “They won’t be up for another hour or so, I’m sure.” He slowly stands, looking around the small group, “There a reason why you’re all watching us sleep?” One of them chuckled and gestured to Jazz and Prowl, “Them, Prowl hates recharging in the field.” Hound hummed and slowly sat back down, rubbing his face, “Well, at least I know it’s not us.” He looked over the others in his crew, who were all still asleep.

Mirage edged closer and sat with him, clearing his throat, “I think actual introductions are in order, that’s Bluestreak and Smokescreen, and that one is Ironhide. We’re a part of the Prime’s inner circle. Either with Spec Ops or Primesguard.” Hound nodded slowly, then tilted his head slightly, “Ah, what’s a prime?” Jazz’s visor lit up and he spoke sleepily, “It’s like the pope, but give him a gun.” He rubs at his face and slowly sits up, being mindful of Prowl. Hound snorted slightly, “Don’t let Breakdown hear you say that or he’ll have a crisis. Actually, the twins either.” Jazz chuckled and looked around, even though his frown wasn’t visible, Hound could hear it, “Hey mechs, everything alright?” Ironhide shifted uncomfortably, “We actually came to speak with Hound.” Jazz spared a look to Hound as he stood, whatever this was, wouldn’t be good, “I’m all ears.” Mirage stood and gestured towards the command tent, “We’ll speak in there.”

They walked in silence, Hound’s hands hanging loosely at his side. Normally if he weren’t in a mech, he’d have walked around with his hands in his pockets but having to pilot so early was keeping him tired and at ease.

Ironhide pulled aside the curtain and stood slightly at attention, “My Prime, Hound of Earth.” Hound almost came to a grinding halt, swearing under his breath as he stepped in then standing at attention, saluting, the red and blue mech from last night was no longer hiding his face and gave an easy smile. He waved a hand, “You are not one of my soldiers or my people, you don’t need to salute to me Hound.” “Yes sir.” Hound shifted a bit and clasped his hands behind his back.

The Prime smiled painfully before gesturing to the table, “I wished to speak with you and yours about your mission.” Hound nodded and moved to stand across from Optimus, clearing his throat a bit, “I understand that your planet sent you out to find Jazz’s remains and the data he carried, then to send back any data you could recover about the route to the Quintessons.” Although he worried his lip, Hound nodded, “Yes sir.” Optimus watched Hound for a moment before activating the map table, “I know this is not the direction that you thought your mission would go, but we are all glad you found Jazz and inadvertently, us.” Hound’s feet shuffled slightly as the prime pulled up the map of someplace entirely unfamiliar.

Optimus rested his hands on the edge of the table, staring down at the map with such worry, “We hate to ask this of you, but as we have learned from Jazz, you all were programmed specifically to fight the Quintessons, and his track record has shown the evidence of that.” He gestures to a chart on the edge of the map, “He gets more confirmed kills than all my soldiers on a given day combined.” Hound stays silent, staring at the map and finally understanding that was the planet they were on all laid out.

“I understand that your mission is important to you and I swear you’ll be able to finish it, but we must ask you for help.” Hound stared at the map, watched as Optimus brought up all the places the Quintessons had attacked, “We’re outnumbered here, our civilians were just getting settled back to their lives when we were attacked. Please, you and your mechs take down more of our enemies than any group of us could.” Hound looked up to Optimus, still frowning, “How many confirmed kills do you have against the enemy sir?” Optimus almost looked sheepish, “Only thirty four, I don’t take to the field often.” Hound nodded and pulled up his own logs in his visual feed, starting at the number, “We're all in fights like the one yesterday? The barrage of them?” Optimus nodded, looking at the table, “Unfortunately, yes. I know Jazz said they’d often attack one or two at a time on your planet.” “I’ve killed over three hundred. More than three hundred successful missions.” He stares at the table, “If you can get our satittle pointed to Earth and swear we will be able to finish our mission, I believe we’d be willing to help.” “Of course.” Hound looks up, maintaining eye contact with Optimus Prime, “You saved Jazz’s life and have kept him alive for five years. If he is going to stay, then we will stay.” His hands were sweating and suddenly, he was very glad to be in a giant mech suit and not standing before the leader as just himself.

It was like he could feel the relief in the room, the way it had gone from almost uncomfortably warm to cool, Optimus sagged slightly with relief, “Thank you Hound.” He took a breath, “I will have to speak with my team and Jazz, it’s a big decision.” “I would assume so.” Hound shifts his feet awkwardly, “Sir,” “Optimus is fine.” He gulped, “Optimus, sir. You do understand that having, now, five humans on your side may be difficult?” Optimus chuckled and nodded, “Yes, I imagine you worked with Jazz frequently?” Hound opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head lightly, “No sir, Optimus, uh. We don’t work with other pilots often.” It sat there, between them, the sad truth.

Of course Hound had known and been friends with Jazz, knew his reputation. They both worked for Mecha, but so did the twins and Breakdown but he’d never actually been in the field with any of them before. They’d file paperwork at the same time or eat together in the cafeteria, but it was never like this. Not for him.

Optimus nods slowly, “Your people are very odd Hound and I’m sorry they saw fit to send you so far from home.” Hound really didn’t know what to say, nodding slightly and clearing “It’s an honor to live and die for my country, and my planet.” Optimus’s smile somehow turned even sadder, “I would not recommend saying that where others can hear, or they will pity you till the end of time.” Hound shifted back slightly, gulping again, “Sir,” “Optimus,” he tried his hardest not to roll his eyes, “Optimus, sir.” Hound took a shaky breath, “It is an honor to live and die for the people I care about. Because regardless of how I die,” his hand hit the number on the front of his suit, “When we all were found compatible, it was like signing our own death certificates and it guaranteed the people we cared about would be taken care of. So, I won’t accept their pity and I’ll never regret the choice I made.” Nodding slowly, Hound goes to turn but stops, “I’d like to go wake and speak with my team, sir.” Optimus stood, staring before nodding, “Of course.” Hound turned and saluted quickly, before leaving, breathing heavily.

—

Mirage and Ironhide poked their heads into command, “Well, he looked pissed.” Optimus had his face in his hands, “I worry I insulted him at the end.”

—

Hound came back over to the group, where Breakdown and Prowl were now away. The twins were still asleep on the floor, so Hound switched to their private comms and activated an alarm sound. Sunstreaker’s suit shot upright while Sideswipe remained on the floor, but was yelling into the comm, “What the hell Hound!” Hound moved around and sat down, “Once we’re all awake, we need to talk.” Jazz winced, looking to Prowl, “Um,” Hound waved it off, “Prowl can stay, you two are,” he paused, not really sure what they were, “Friends, so long as he doesn’t mind me talking shit about his boss.” Jazz and Prowl both paused before Jazz shook his head, “That didn’t translate right, I didn’t think things about human anatomy would but wow.” Hound’s face grew hot and he cleared his throat.

Once Sideswipe was in his seat and piloting, he came over and kicked Hound before sitting back down grumbling. He nodded slightly, letting him have this one before sighing slowly, “The Prime is going to get our relay satellite pointed towards Earth,” “Uh, what’s a Prime?” Substreaker’s hand went up slightly, “He’s Joan of Arc.” Sunstreaker paused, “Uh, wait, what?” Jazz sighed and shrugged, “He was chosen by Primus, their god, to lead the planet. He used to supposedly be just a normal guy, who fell in love with the wrong guy, and was picked by Primus to fix the world.” Sunstreaker slowly nodded and Sideswipe then put his hand up, “So, he’s if you mixed the pope, the president, and master chief?” Hound stared at him, then Sunstreaker smacked his brother, “Shut up.”

Breakdown lowers himself back to the seat, “I almost forgot we were on another planet, but that is very odd.” Hound nodded slightly, “Regardless, back to the topic. Jazz, are you planning on staying on this planet to help them in the fight?” Jazz looked over, he’d been staring at Sideswipe like he was an idiot, “If you mean this war, yes. I plan to stay.” Hound nodded slowly and sighed, “Then we will stay with you, push these Quints off Cyber-whatever and once that’s done we will go find their home world to end this fight.” “Make them wish they never laid their beady eyes on Earth!” Hound sighed as the twins high fived, Jazz looked at him with a bit of sympathy, visor dimming, “We follow your lead commander.” He didn’t know if that was better or worse. Breakdown rested a hand on Hound’s shoulder, “We can work with them and still succeed at the mission, we’re not the only ones on this side of the fight anymore.” Hound nodded again and stood, looking to Prowl, “How does your command structure work and where will we report?” Prowl tried not to smile, standing and offering Jazz a hand up, “It’s likely you’ll all report to myself and Mirage. For now, we head to Iacon with the Prime. Your shuttle will be there when we arrive.” Hound sighs, rubbing his face.

A lot had happened in the last few days for him, and it just kept coming.

———

A/N

I can’t believe I’ve gotten through 10 parts of Arcturus One. Now, I will pick this back up after the one shot for Arcturus Two. That should be out tomorrow and then back to the regularly scheduled programming.

Tags!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

Tristella (SG Skystar songfic)

Song: TRISTELLA by Esperón. Starscream was offlined, but his spark did not went to the Well of the All Sparks - Instead, it followed the one and only bot his spark longed for. And thus, the other bot grieves.

WARNINGS: Angst and tragic romance. Character death. Using the name Skyfire instead of Jetfire. Shatter glass universe. My take on 'what happened after?'. Mentions of depression, suicide and self-loath behaviour.

All stars are the result of a balance of forces - a violent process. Starscream's death was like watching the birth of a star - bright. Loud. Painful.

Living up to his name - after getting shot by Goldbug on his back, barely missing his spark, the seeker wailed and his voice reached the stars. And Skyfire would have cried back if it wasn't the words of the seeker that managed to freeze him in place just for a moment.

The same words Skyfire always thought whenever he thought of Starscream, but desperately and coldly tried to change, but always failing to either forget it or say it outloud.

I love you.

The moment his spark got taken brutally, Skyfire's world crumbled down once again. He was doomed to always lose the one he loves, isn't he? He was scared to take his servo, to follow him, always doubting everything and himself - that's why the mech he wished to take as a conjux was now truly out of his reach. Even when he got to rescue Starscream's spark... there's nothing else for them after that. Just like any bot that was met with their demise, Starscream's bright spark was going to follow it's process and return to the Well of the All Spark...

The spark did flew from his servos once Skyfire escaped with it - and with a broken spark, the taller mech promised to do better, to end the war in the name of the mech he loved.

He was never going to aling totally to the Decepticons' cause, but he has long dettached from the Autobots - after the war ended, the Decepticons forgave his wrong doings and choices after helping them stop the Autobots. Still, Skyfire isolated himself from the new world it was being built - after all, he would rather have his voice than their causes.

Skyfire.

It started with small things - he would catch glimpses of a bright ball of light of both bright blue and orange color. Then the sight of sad yet full of love optics in any reflections for a few kliks before they disappeared. Soft whispers in the air and in the night. And finally...

You haven't been recharging - you'll catch a virus if you keep doing that!

The bright spark only produced bell-like noises - but somehow, Skyfire understood it... "I've lost my mind-" The mech said, staring at the spark that floated righ in front of his faceplate. But when his servo moved to touch the spark, it produced a giggle-like sound, to then twirl and then... disappear.

It kept appearing - either on solar cycles or the lunar cycles. At first Skyfire tried to ignore it. It was just a product of the guilt he kept carrying deep inside of his own spark, he was finally losing it. And yet, the spark kept appearing, making him company or following him. And it was just as stubborn as Skyfire.

"Leave me alone!" Skyfire once yelled, in the middle of the night, hurt and frustrated. "You are not him - he is gone! My Starscream is gone!" Even when the spark looked like him, the one he loved was no longer here... but oh, how he wished to have Starscream back, to hold him. The mech would never admit it, but after yelling at the spark, he broke down, crying his optics out and wailing (like Starscream wailed at the pain when he got shot on his back). And the spark disappeared - it left Skyfire in the darkness of his room... to then slowly start to reappear - this time, right between the mech's armplates, as if it was being held.

I may not be him - but I am what he felt about you. Even after everything, I've been there the whole time. Even when it brought him warmth or sadness, I've been there. And I'm still here, Skyfire.

With such sad eyes, the spark sang - and Skyfire wished he could actually hold the spark and kiss it. He allowed himself to cry as the spark kept him company, loving to listen the sphere of light and energy talk to him until he fell into a needed recharge he has been not allowing himself to have out of self-loath.

"I did this to you, Starscream..."

I did this to myself too, my love - everyone did this to me, and to themselves, and to everyone, too. We are culprits and innocents, at some degree.

"Even in your last moments, you forgave me for my weakness."

Deep down, I knew you were afraid.

Sometimes, whenever Skyfire would catch glimpses of the spark being a shooting star on the starry nightsky, he would ask himself if this was part of the process for a spark to go back to the Well of the All Sparks. Would his own spark look after a Starscream from another universe where he didn't die? Keeping him company and talking to him? Maybe - if it mean to attone to his sins.

Stop. It makes me sad to feel you like this, my love.

"You are not here with me - how can I not be sad?"

And yet, Skyfire would smile as he extended his servo, allowing the spark to 'rest' on it and hear his bell-like sounds, as if a lullaby it was. He wouldn't mind to have his spark go through the same process this bright spark was going through, too. He would be able to finally stop being a coward and tell Starscream how much he loved him, that his life was a gift for the seeker.

"How can I set you free?" Skyfire asked in a whisper.

I'm already free.

"Why haven't you go back to the Well of the All Spark, then?"

It was his last wish before he was long gone - to be by your side. I am not him, I am what he felt for you, Skyfire. Once the time arrives, I'll guide you to the Well of the All Spark, for him and you to meet again.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too." He whispered back.

His love for you has always been there, and it's still here. And will always be.

The consequences of the war haunted Skyfire until the very last day of his life. Megatron saw it with his own optics. The former leader was always fearful to visit the other mech and find him long gone by his own servos - but thanfully, got to see the other mech still alive. Oddly enough, even in the sea of depression Skyfire was drowning himself, Megatron swears he could see a light of happiness in the optics of Skyfire.

"He offlined naturally - there are no signs of his own doing to provoke it. It was peaceful." Shockwave explained. Megatron looked sadly down at the cold frame of Skyfire.

"His spark is now in the Well of the All Sparks - finally, with Starscream's" Megatron said, sadly, but hopeful.

At night, among the many other stars, a bright blue-orange spark and a purple spark pass by as shooting stars, together. They are a memory of what they were before, but happy and together, at last.

Felt a rush of inspiration, here it is! I hope you all like it! Quite tragic, poetic even.

♪(´▽｀) Vhaos out!

[roachywoachy]

Second chapter 'prompt' of my maybe fic that may be written.

First

I do want to get better at writing these seven but all of them in one scene is breaking my mind. Longhaul and Mixmaster are my main brats at the moment, characterization wise.

Tonight I will be focusing on posting the actual Hook/Prowl work.. thankfully, it's taken way longer than I'd expected but I'm a perfectionist and I see mistakes everytime I revise.

Promise my next fic won't take as long😞

When Prowl awoke propped up against Scrapper still who was troubleshooting with the other 5. Bonecrusher was being bashed for getting them into this mess but there was no bother, they were already here.

Stirring from his recharge, tac-net booting with a low whirr of his processor that was still foggy from the inexplainable pain the night before. Turned into a dull radiating ache throughout his whole frame.

It seems for now the gestalt was still recovering from their own minor damages but still rowdy.

Prowl was irritated with their rough demeanors and their loud voices, flowing freely throughout his loose field against Scrapper.

Prowl felt a tad demoralized in this position Scrapper held him in, but not angry since they did help him. As annoying as they were,

Hook and Mixmaster must've come up with some concoction to ease the pain, assumed from the feeling of weird liquidated medigel coated over lowered doorwings. The only thing keeping the cop from jumping and attempting to gain some sort of advantage was the fact that his tac-net held point percentages about success, worryingly low danger numbers filling his HUD.

So all he did was lay against a warm heavy chassis, every attempted escape weakened the tactician even more than he was. He looked terrible.

Eventually the conversation went to Prowl, their autobot 'prisoner' as if they all weren't, Hook had figured out that he was build cold which was probably why Scrapper was holding Prowl in his lap almost intimately close.

Just to keep him warm of course.

They talked about getting out and how, mostly Longhaul, Scrapper and Bonecrusher would be trying to dig their way through the collapse while Mixmaster, Hook and Scavenger dealt with finding more raw energon in the upcoming solar-cycles.

Prowl was trying to get up now, it was infuriating to be in the position he was in. Thank Primus the only people seeing him like that were dumb 'cons. Big jerks that won't ever not tease the cop outside of the tunnels.

Scrapper was firm but eased Prowl off to sit beside Hook and himself, a light sporty frame stuck between who masses that could hold enough tons that could kill the praxian 10x over.

Bonecrusher was his usual self again, frustrated with his own mess as Longhaul complained about Crushers mess. Everyone was upset about his mess.

Scavenger was helping Mixmaster with the raw energon, they sat in a smaller anclove. Away from where the original tunnel continued since they'd have to start digging out soon.

Hook brought up about how he looked terrible, wishing he had his instruments to fix him better. Hating to leave his work half finished or reversed, making sure to keep an optic on Prowl so he wouldn't go and waste his second chance.

Bonecrusher and Longhaul got to the dammed cop again, watching him sit with droopy doorwings. The drug Mix and Hook made seemed to subdue Prowl, keeping him just a little more docile than he would be stuck with the worst gestalt he'd ever dealt with in the past.

Pre-war the cop had seen the Constructicons on sites, it was obvious to why they joined the decepticons because living on barely enough energon on site day in and out without the shanx to pursue their hobbies. Free time was spent recharging or drunk on engex until their early shifts.

Prowl had never really dealt with them as his sector was more inner city but he'd occasionally go on long drives and find them either drunk at some lowend bar or working on whatever the council found fit for the day.

It was only logical for them to become who they are now but..

His processor ached from them, their actions.. It was abnormal and almost creepy with how they watched him, feeling heedy gazes on his doorwings. This whole situation made Prowl uneasy, not afraid but what were their intentions? Grumbling low to himself about this weird gestalt, it's not like he was ever close to the mechs in the first place..

The drug was dizzying to say the least, tac-net buffering a few kliks slower than usual. Numbers phased off his visual feed and the six gestalt mates talking and talking was giving him a processor ache.

The ground was hard and cold, worse than the big radiator of a mech Scrapper was.. were they all that warm? A low buzz in the back of his processor, keeping him aware but not enough to freak out.. everything ached, from his pedes, up to his thighs, hips.. up to his processor.. cold again.

The cooling mech sat quietly, swaying and overloaded by the calculations of his tac-net that made such little sense in his conscious.

Scavenger tapped on Prowls pede, getting his dazed attention. Rubbing the dirty metal as he watched the smaller mech stare at the huge servo on himself.

Scavenger was interested in the monochrome mech, Scav remembered this cop in battle, most autobots were bright but Prowl wasn't like most autobots was he? The gestalt was stupid but not that stupid, they knew the importance of Prowl. What he did for the autobots.

Scavenger just stared at the bright red chevron, it was almost a moment until he was smacked over the helm by Hook. Something was said about disturbing his patient, Prowl had only spoke in low murmurs at this point so they weren't sure if Prowl was still all there.

Secretly they needed his mind, his tac-net to be at full function and it did help some that the light frame was pretty..

Prowl was stuck staring at Scavengers visor, noting all their visors except for Mixmaster. Bright in the dark cave of dim blue, who else had a red visor? Jazz was blue..

Prowl was lost in thoughts of optics, visors and other variations. Tac-net calculating numbers of who had what and percentages on either side.

Knocked out of his trance when a heavy field was sat behind him with a rumble, Bonecrusher. A servo on his helm, tilting it to the side to look at Prowls faceplate from where Bonecrusher leaned down beside him.

He wasn't a doll to be pulled around, scowling at the large mech behind him. Reaching up to grab his forearm to push it away but of course the larger wasn't swayed.

They were all sat in a sort of circle.

(Scrapper - Prowl - Hook - Mixmaster - Longhaul)

Bonecrusher sat behind Prowl, Hook was telling off the bulldozer to not mess up his work. Mixmaster was dotting on about being stuck making energon with Scrapper who was assuring it was all necessity. Longhaul was leaning against the cave wall in boredom, somewhat tired as he was the largest. He needed most energon to be at full capacity.

Hook and Bonecrushers babbling got to the medic pulling Prowl onto his lap, away from the touchy mech who was also now being told down by Scrapper.

Explaining that it will take a solar-cycle or so for Prowl to move properly, there was inner circuits that Hook had fixed. Having to had fix minor works with only his servos and some sticky oil. After some rest he should have self repaired enough.

After dozing off again from Hook massaging into his backstrut, the medic was experienced after all these years. Joining the cause gave him the tools and working along flatline, mixed with his overall need to know. Hook was an excellent medic, not as practiced as ratchet or any of the autobot medics.

Massage making the praxian drool again, how in the world did chemist and medic even make this relaxant? With what materials? His processor was dizzy.. tac-net calculating percentages that didn't even matter.

Their voices filled his audials, loud and gruff like the mechs they were. So different in tone, so different.. they were all so different, united by one bind.. held together by their bond of devestator, they were one.

Prowls doorwings quivered as he recharged, memories of Praxus. His trine who he was created with, Smokescreen and Bluestreak. Would they even care Prowl was missing? Did they think they all died? Was it a good trade off? The strongest gestalt megatron commanded for some overbearing cop with issues?

It didn't hurt, it would never hurt but so many secrets for one mech to carry. Did the consteucticons worry? Did they hold eachother.. they were one, united forever. They could depend on eachother, they were Megatrons finest creation.. what was Prowl to the autobots, he did so much. Protected their cause, sacrificed for the good of cybertron. It was never enough, no. Optimus was too optimistic, he wanted to save everyone and live on earth. A place he'd called home. Earth would never be home, what was the war for if their home was forgotten? What did the decepticons think? Prowl was doing this all for the good of cybertron, home. Praxus.

Prowl had never been praised for his work, he was called unethical and cold. It almost hurt that his efforts weren't appreciated.

Hook held Prowls frame, the drug lowed Prowls processing power so his field was filled with doubt, distraught and anger. Anger directed at optimus, for what was the autobot cause?

Prowl didn't want to cry, the drug was heavy. Not meant for his frame type.

Coolant spilled and everything held a deep ache, feeling the others fields filled with a weight. Bearing the weight of their jobs, their interests, their cause. They weren't comforting or welcoming, but they were quiet. Accepting who he was, that must be how gestalts work. Acceptance, appreciation, they cared for eachother and that alone allowed the lonely mech to lull himself to recharge.

[nihonnojihifukainomajonoseiiki]

What to do when you feel drained of mana?

(Step 8 is a reference to how mages in Fate/stay night replenish their mana.)

Even the most radiant souls and strongest witches find themselves drained of mana, their inner flame flickering weakly against the winds of exhaustion. If you feel depleted, as if the sacred energy within you has dimmed, do not despair. There are ways to rekindle your magic and realign with the forces that sustain you.

1. Commune with the elements

Your essence is woven from the same threads as the world around you. If your spirit feels empty, turn to the elements:

Water: Take a ritual bath infused with salt, herbs, or essential oils to cleanse your aura.

Fire: Light a candle and meditate on its flame, allowing its warmth to restore your strength.

Earth: Walk barefoot on sacred ground, whether it's a garden, forest, or even your own backyard.

Air: Breathe deeply, practicing rhythmic or meditative breathing to let divine energy flow back into you.

2. Absorb lunar and solar power

If the night calls to you, bask under the moonlight and let its silver glow replenish your spiritual core. If the sun is your ally, soak in its golden warmth, allowing its celestial fire to awaken your latent strength.

3. Drink from the wells of the arcane

Sometimes, power dims not from overuse but from a lack of inspiration. Read ancient texts, listen to enchanting music, or gaze upon mystical art. Let the wisdom of those who walked before you reignite your passion.

4. Indulge in sacred rest

A weary soul cannot conjure miracles. Wrap yourself in silken darkness and rest—true, undisturbed rest. Dream deeply, for dreams are portals to other realms where lost energy can be found and returned to you.

5. Draw from the love of spirits and kindred souls

Even a lone soul is never truly alone. Reach out to those who understand you, whether they be kindred spirits, familiars, or the deities you hold close to your heart. Allow their presence to weave a cocoon of comfort around you.

6. Perform a mana restoration ritual

If you feel utterly depleted, craft a personal ritual to reclaim your power. Burn sacred incense, whisper incantations of renewal, and surround yourself with talismans that resonate with your essence.

7. Banish the shadows that cling to you

Sometimes, the drain of mana is the mark of an unseen parasite—negative energy, envious gazes, or forgotten burdens. A simple cleansing spell, a salt bath, or the ringing of bells can cast them away. Release, and rise unburdened.

8. Spend time with your partner

For those bound by love, your partner can be a wellspring of healing energy. Hold their hand, feel the warmth of their embrace, and let their presence ground you. A moment of physical contact can recharge your soul. Love is its own kind of magic—one that thrives when given and received freely.

Remember: Your magic is never gone—it only ebbs and flows. Like the tides, it will return, stronger than before. Until then, be gentle with yourself, for even the most radiant souls and powerful witches must rest to rise again.

[cozzzynook]

Pleasure bot Bumblebee who joins the autobot ship when the war breaks out.

He didn’t want to be aboard an autobot ship. He was on his way to a neutral planet when his transporting ship was gunned down in “friendly fire.”

His ship crashed offlining almost every bot aboard and the only reason he survived was because he transformed in time heavily damaging his alt mode.

When he woke up he was in an autobot medbay being treated by Ratchet who informed him he was on an autobot base. Bee wanted to transfer from the ship the moment he onlined but with how far they were from neutral territory he couldn’t. If decepticons saw him leave in an autobot spacepod he’d be shot down.

So Bee stayed and rejected any offers to become an autobot. He stuck to doing simple work around the ship and kept his helm down. He didn’t want autobots learning how he made a living. They typically were the bots who judged the most and did things even if they claimed to be the “good guys.”

It wasn’t until he met Optimus did he think autobots weren’t so bad. Optimus took an immense liking to Bee right away wanting the mini to keep besides himself as if he was a sparkling following their sire.

That put Bee even more in the light of others and Bee found himself knowing every bot on the ship. It was easy for bots to like him even strict bots like Ratchet and anti social mechs like Prowl. Bee didn’t particularly want to be close to any of them still and he wasn’t save for Optimus. But even then Bee kept his past to himself.

His frame was a reveal to his past of course. Being shaped like a femme did not help him any but since his pleasure bot stamp was hidden none knew. He was thankful Ratchet didn’t check his the fuel globe mesh on his chassis. That meant he didn’t know Bee was a pleasure bot or that he was a carrying mech.

Of course Bee long had his reproductive tank sealed shut, sure it was done illegally with dangerous methods but thats just how things worked before war broke out. Better to be a pleasure bot than a breeding bot.

Not that he liked either option.

He just picked the one with less complications.

Only complications still came when the autobots ship ran into the decepticon ship with none other than Megatron and his golden army.

The battle was intense and left both ships heavily damaged. Bee was taken to a part of the ship that was supposed to be safe but nothing was ever truly safe.

The door was broken in half and in walked one of the last mechs Bee thought he would ever get to see again.

“Hummel?”

Bee doesn’t know how much time passed as he stared at the large mech who once looked so different. The mech he used to laugh with under the solar system when they had a chance to meet. The mech he’d buy extra energon for so he could take it back to his friends and trine. The mech he once let stay in his suite when his own was burned down by the counsel. It turned into the two living together permanently and though the mech didn’t like his line of work he respected him and went out of his way to make sure he was safe.

The mech would sneak him treats that were his favorite and draw him when he was recharging in his berth or on his lap.

It was the best Bee ever felt.

But then one day the seeker just disappeared and Bee was crushed.

He once thought the worst had happened to him but now. Now he just wishes to be wrapped in his arms as he demands to know what happened and why he abandoned him.

“Frostwing?”

“I go by Blitzwing now, bug.”

“Blitzwing,” the name still tasted of cyber honey on his tongue and Bee found himself shedding a droplet from his optic which Blitzwing caught.

Bee hadn’t seen him move yet he didn’t feel threatened, he knew the mech was dangerous now if his speed was anything to go by. Yet he felt..old and new. A familiar stranger was holding him and he couldn’t stop himself from seeing the decepticon insignia.

Blitzwing halted in hesitation but Bumblebee laid a servo on his chassis above his engine and spark and leaned in with a smile.

“Vill jou come vith me hummelchan?”

“With you Blitzwing,” his spark pulsed deep, “always.”

-

[thesagedahlia]

♒️ Solar Return Pick-A-Card ♒️

*DISCLAIMER: this channeling is meant to read the current energy of Aquarius ~personal~ placements. this is for entertainment purposes only, + energy is fluid not linear, roles are interchangeable, + this reading can be timeless. if you’re drawn to more than one crystal/stone, go with it. take what resonates, leave the rest (which means don't try to make a message meant for someone else fit for you)*

This is a late post so the message will be shorter.

Group 1.

Amber: Recharge your Good Vibes ✨

You’re usually a generous/giving person, but it may have been to your detriment in the past. You’re guided toward moving away from situations that abuse power over you or take your light in the coming months. Friend groups that weren’t genuine that have been draining your light are coming up to the surface for you to reevaluate them, this goes for one-sided friendships as well. You need to have trust that everything will balance out when the cycle closes. This is a time where you’re being forced into the unknown, and the only way to move through it is to embrace it. Shortsightedness may have kept you in situations/around certain people for longer than you should have; for some of you, you are dealing with envy/jealousy from friends/friend groups. You are needing to trust in the universe, your guides and your intuition when it comes to putting your foot down and defending yourself against those that intend to dim your light. You are being rewarded for coming back to yourself calling on self nourishment, and turning all of the energy you’ve been giving out inward and finding the value in yourself again.

✨ confirmation ✨

Let go + recharge, solar plexus + heart chakra, ‘sloth’, karmic, attachment, new beginnings, 333, something’s up with ‘them’, gossip/drama, 888, 666, ‘hermit’, Virgo energy, Capricorn energy, ‘vibe check’, 555, no turning back, rejection, ‘teacher of the masses’, room for improvement, ‘greed’, Sagittarius energy, Pisces energy, Leo energy, black moon Lilith, ceres, 999

Group 2.

Sunstone: Take back your Shine ✨

You may feel like certain situations didn’t go as expected, and some people may have been steering you wrong through no fault of your own. You are learning lessons and gaining knowledge now that will be of use to yourself and the collective. Through these situations, you may be a natural born healer that can use your gifts for yourself and other people. You are being called to find value and worth in your goals again. The dedication to your goals despite what others are doing around you is what sets you apart from everyone. Things may not be clear right now so having faith in this situation is needed. Rejection is God‘s protection so there’s no need to mourn missed opportunities that were never yours. If gratification feels delayed you need to remember that staying focused draws things to you more, which is the art of manifestation. You may not see it now, but you are noticed and appreciated/admired for how far you’ve come. Remember that what is lost can be replaced. This can relate to releasing codependent tendencies in situations with others and your close relationships. 

✨ confirmation ✨

Happy situation, side hustle $$$, matters of the heart, 1212, jealousy, ‘greed’, cycles, ‘sloth’, 999, king/queen status, ‘lust’, ‘twin flame/soulmate’, love, ‘eyes wide shut’, oppy outside, ‘here today, gone tomorrow’, overthinking, ‘closing a door for an open one’, closure, Libra energy, Capricorn energy, Leo energy, Pisces energy, Sedna (asteroid), semi-square, Taurus energy, 555, indecision, unexpected communication

Group 3.

Apophyllite: Beam yourself up. WAY up.

Your energy may feel scattered and ungrounded, and you may not know what to do with the momentum/creative energy that you have. You have all you need to manifest your goals, but there may be a struggle with self doubt. You may have been feeling skeptical if you’re capable of living up to your purpose so you’re being asked to deepen your faith/beliefs within yourself. This is more of an opportunity for self-love and self improvement rather than putting in the work. You are in a place where you can demand what you deserve and it is likely to come to you, and you are being prompted to realign with your goals. Acceptance of your purpose brings truth to you so this may be a factor of accepting a situation for what it is or accepting someone for who they are, and you are being reminded to stand your ground when it comes to selfish people. Embrace what is coming without suffering from what was lost, success can come to you quickly. After this time of significant change/loss, grounding techniques and meditation can help with clarity.

✨ confirmation ✨

Divine intervention, action!, ‘The Signs’; spirit is speaking, Friends become Strangers, ‘free will’, (divine) masculine energy, entrepreneur, addiction, perception, end of a chapter, root + third eye chakra, danger, room for improvement, ‘moth to a flame’, new job alert, something is hidden, divine feminine, *new* love coming in, ‘gluttony’, opportunities for *action*, Listen to the Earth, 22, Virgo energy, 1010, 666, *Cancer energy, Fire energy (*Aries, *Leo, Sag), Jupiter, Sun, Pluto, Gemini, Mercury

Happy (Belated) Birthday Aquarius ♒️ 🩵🩵

[paxarsenal]

Organic Music, Organic Love

As requested by @mx-jester, I shall write another Wavewave fanfic! This time, Soundwave gets a bit tired from working...

~~~

Another solar-cycle passed into another mega-cycle. After Shockwave’s initial return, the work within the Nemesis grew tenth fold. Project Predicon as dubbed by Shockwave resumed continuation. The scientist’s underground project not only sucked numerous supplies and resources from the flying ship, but management became desperate and demanding. Not to mention draining every contributing bot’s Energon tank into oblivion. Recharged wasn’t a choice either.  No Transformer could escape this, not even the notorious workaholic communications officer among them. 

Soundwave limped through the hallways. He hadn’t had a dose of Energon since last 48 breems. His engine tank hissed and churned. The HUD visor screen flashed uncontrollably as a desperate call to restock his falling system. Megatron began countless affairs of servitude to the Decepticon cause while Starscream occupied himself with other tasks. It left Soundwave starved and meek, his chassis armor heaving in weight from exhaustion. His digits couldn’t even lift a rusting nail after he finished the final round of code. 

Fortunately, what seemed to be a “mess hall” came to view. Mess hall was an overstretched definition. A large hall with unordered stacks of random trinkets and tools laid in corners as numerous Vechicons crowded the space. Soundwave immediately begrudged his decision. He didn’t want dinner disturbance from the terrible gossips and chatters, no less the own voices of meddling lower mechs. 

Nevertheless, the violet bot turned to the supply table and took out a fresh Energon cube. Soundwave settled into a corner where the light won’t reach and opened his visor, quickly chugging at the drink before slamming the empty shell down. One wasn’t enough. Eventually, Soundwave found himself surrounded by ten high Energon between his desire and hunger. At the end of the cycle, two refreshments were left unscathed. 

Groups of Vechicons suddenly burst into shouts. It perked Soundwave’s attention, turning to the crowd where the one and only Knockout stood in glowing scarlet paint. That particular mech always had something to ‘go on about’ and this solar-cycle wouldn’t be his last. 

“Ah ha,” Knockout jolted slightly in barely controlled excitement. The sports car bot moved out of the way to reveal a small unfamiliar device sitting on the table. It was rusting and dull. A small antenna and loudspeaker stood out from its design. Soundwave titled his helm curiously, signaling Knockout to continue his discovery. 

“I found this machine that organics love to use as entertainment. It’s called a radio!” Knockout announced, “It isn’t like our own radio transmitters, but plays music or news! Listen and watch!” 

The red medic pressed a few buttons and static began to roll over the radio until a coherent tune played. A few Vechicons ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ while others clapped along to the music. Knockout even began to sway his metal hips as he hummed the melody, almost as if he knew the song by spark. Soundwave didn’t know what to say; he was speechless for once, even if he never said anything at all. Words couldn’t describe how much he wanted to convey… 

Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like on

A-Jupiter and Mars

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, baby, kiss me

It brought him back to Cybertron. There was a refill shack down the barren streets of Kaon; Shockwave and Soundwave idly pass around and about at the bar counter, bland conversation after the next. With diluted Energon in servo, their night held up. The hangout was a few from the first, and both mechs struggled for words. It wasn’t until Shockwave introduced him to a new discovery. 

“Organic music, have you heard of it?” Shockwave said, his voicebox rough from venting in the planet’s particles of land-waste dystopia.

“Negative: Soundwave… intrigued.” 

Shockwave went on. “For mega-cycles, our scientific team detected some wave signals in search for surplus Energon. However, unlike ours, it played organic tunes and sung songs from planet Earth.”

“… Songs,” Soundwave replayed with Shockwave’s audio. 

Shockwave shook his helm. “Exactly, a worthless find but nevertheless entertaining,” he hummed. His red lens burnt a bit bright as he looked towards the violet gladiator. “Care to listen when you’re available?”

There wasn’t a next time.

~~~

The radio continued to play as it lulled to a soft jazz. 

Between the commotion and music, Megatron strode into the crowd with Starscream behind him. The Cons immediately scattered, shifting to precarious position in the mess hall whereas Knockout straightened up his gears and bowed to the warlord. Brief exchanges of information and duties were made as the mech with a bucket for helm scorched the floor. Starscream looked unequally pleased, towards Megatron or to the various Vechicons horsing around, it didn’t matter. The trio of light and dark grey plus a hint of red set forth to the control room. Soundwave assumed he wasn’t needed; Megatron would have called him over since the two exchanged brief eye contact for one another. With the three gone and most of the Vechicons returning to their initial work, it left Soundwave to temporarily freedom. He spotted the lone radio; Knockout must had forgotten it with Megatron’s unexpected visit. 

With the bots gone, Soundwave removed himself from the seat and picked up the two remaining Energon cubes. His footsteps slowed and reached for the device before disappearing out of the exit.

Soundwave strolled down the hallways towards the end-most area of the Nemesis. Unexpressive yet knowing, he thought to himself: Did Shockwave ate today? Time seemed to have past but there were no implications to how much went on. Could be solar-cycles until now. The thought only made him squeeze the Energon cube until it pulsed with glowing blue liquid.

At last, he was outside of Shockwave’s laboratory. 

“Soundwave?” His partner said upon seeing the mech enter his chambers, “What a lovely surprise.” Soundwave nodded his helm and placed the neatly stacked Energon on the lab table and slide them towards the Empurata. Shockwave gave a quick thanks before heading back to work. However, another metal click alerted the violet bot to look the rusting item.

“Ah, a radio,” Shockwave mused, inspecting the musical machine with delicate digits. “It’s a delight to see in front of me.” Soundwave nodded to his statement. He trotted to Shockwave’s berth before sitting on it. Both had became familiar again after Shockwave’s return, and to sit on his personal recharge station was another pastime for Soundwave. The action itself stood pure among the other intimate activities they did behind closed doors. 

“I’m impressed, you remembered,” the Empurata hummed, “How long ago was that? Do you recall?” 

“Negative.”

“I’m not surprised.” Soundwave chuckled at that.

Shockwave pressed a button on the device as it played, almost like it was filled with genuine compassion. He motioned himself to Soundwave where he sat quietly and obediently. 

Fill my heart with song and let me sing forevermore

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore

In other words, please be true

In other words, I love you

Both idly listened. Their visors gazing over the other for an answer. Shockwave was the first to avert his gaze, Soundwave followed. A heavy wave of exhaustion suddenly occurred within Soundwave’s frame. His helm drooped before tiling back up. 

Shocked noticed.

“Soundwave… Comms to Soundwave,” Shockwave said softly, his large figure hovering over Soundwave’s fatigued body. A gentle sharp servo cupped his helm as Soundwave swatted it away embarrassed. Of course, Shockwave didn’t know that. 

“You seem exhausted.” 

His partner fought to say no, yet his protoform betrayed his mind as he swayed once his pedes attempted to get up. Just in time, the scientist caught him in his gun arm. Perhaps he was, Soundwave concluded.

“Rest, you can borrow my berth for tonight,” Shockwave insisted. It took a few seconds before he added: “I won’t be too nosy.” 

Soundwave measly laid on the berth as told. He listened to Shockwave work. The soft music took any tension left unscathed and that helped him rest. Soon, the mech felt at peace for the first time. No code, no war, and no annoying Starscream buzzing to keep him awake. His HUD visor turned to Shockwave, his back facing him yet the purple con recognize that silent treatment.

“Soundwave… do you think this war would end?”

“…” 

“Is that a ‘Stand By’?”

“… Affirmative.”

“How illogical of an answer, but I suppose as a scientist—not a time traveler, your answer is most definitely logical.”

Fill my heart with song

Let me sing forevermore

You are all I long for, all I worship and adore

In other words, please be true

In other words

In other words

I love you

[tingoesttongo]

Odyssey Of Transformation: Chapter 2

(Jazzprowl AU)

“What- again?” Ratchet looked up wearily, shutting off the welder in the process. The hyperactive bot currently being treated shifted to the side, revealing a long gash in the metal plating running along his chassis. Jazz shrugged his shoulders semi-sheepishly as Ratchet began herding the bot off of the table.

“No, Ratchet, wait. S’fine, finish up here, I’ll wait outside.” Jazz turned, ducking under the doorframe, and exited the area of the hull sectioned off as a ‘medbay’ of sorts. A few arcs later, the younger blue bot passed through the entrance, heading off to continue work along the ship.

“Well, are you coming in?” Ratchet’s voice sounded from within the workshop, tinted with his signature not-quite-sarcasm.

“What seems to be the issue, Captain?” Ratchet gestured to the medical table underneath the light. Jazz attempted to gently lower himself onto the table, but the fragile wooden legs splintered under his weight. “Excuse me? I needed that!”

“Frag–sorry, Ratch, I’ll just… sit n’ the floor.” Jazz gave up and plopped onto the ground, as gracefully as the captain of a ship is able to. (not gracefully at all)

“So, apart from your helm being scratched halfway to the Pit and back, what’s wrong?” Ratchet rubbed at his optics.

“Nothin’ yet, everythin’ seems to be goin’…” Jazz trailed off, hesitant to tempt the Primes. Ratchet nodded, as if sensing his captain’s thoughts. Jazz shook his helm, clearing away the thoughts that crowded his processor, “How’s everythin’ here? How’s our supply?”

“You want honesty?” Ratchet’s somber look immediately dampened the previously humorous mood as Jazz nodded and he continued, “We’re almost out, Jazz… We’re almost out of Energon.”

“Are-are ya’ sure?” Jazz pressed urgently, thoughts of the table and bent audial dials instantly discarded.

“Yes.”

“Scrap. What.. what d’we do?”

“I hate to say this Jazz, really, I do, but- I don’t know.” Ratchet’s confession left Jazz speechless, unable to believe that Ratchet, who always knew what to do–always–was stumped.

Jazz lay back, no more words being necessary between the captain and his old friend. Ratchet silently continued, murmuring comments now and again regarding Jazz’z helm–It was repairable, the cassette-bot had bent several components out of place, but it was salvageable. Ratchet, thankfully, had a few spare parts remaining from the supplies left over from Kaon, and was able to retune Jazz’s audial dials and buff out the scratches without issue. When Jazz’s repairs were finished, the captain silently got up, murmured a prayer to Solus Prime, and began his recharge cycle.

–

For nine solar cycles the storm raged, blowing the ship every which way to what seemed to be the whims of some vengeful ghost, random and unpredictable in its motions. Waves rose high into the sky, as if reaching for some unobtainable height, and crashed back down against the ship, tossing around the Cybertronians onboard.

“JAZZ! LAND! THERE’S LAND UP AHEAD!” The youngest and most optimistic member of the crew, Cliffjumper, called from the sentry’s position on the ship’s mast, pointing to the horizon before them.

Jazz, spurned on by the waves crashing against the bow, searched desperately towards the horizon, spinning the wheel quickly, pointing the ship at the strip of land Cliffjumper had spotted. Thunder cracked, splitting the sky in half, illuminating the terrified faces of his crew. Elita–normally marked by a wolfish grin, looked serious. Starscream’s optics, usually faintly lidded under some pretense of indifference, were wild and wide. Swerve, goofish and outgoing, was unable to make a wise remark. To Swerve’s left, Blurr stood rigidly, still, the normally hyperactive bot as if frozen in time. Cliffjumper, the youngest, was the only one who remained steadfast. Cliffjumper was always eager, always able to see the silver lining. Jazz would make this work. He would think his way out of this, like he always did. He had to. He had to get his crew home. All of them. They would survive this.

Right?

Previous | Next

[the-pea-and-the-sun]

why is namek like that

i had a namekian specbio post drafted but along the way i got distracted with the namekian sky, so im just jotting down a bit of my thoughts about how a namekian solar system and planet atmosphere might work. most projections arent particularly stable, its no surprise they had a severe ecological disaster. we know namek has liquid water, and is an earth-like enough temperature for bulma to be comfortable there, so everything else is kind of bending around that. this super cool article by sean raymond talks about how you might make a no-night planet work. luckily no other planets are ever specified to exist in namek's solar system (to my knowledge) which makes this a lot easier! generally more stars = less planets, so im imagining that namek is the only planet in its solar system.

this is raymond's three star system diagram! in this model though, the planet actually does experience night, but only once every 600 years. im satisfied with this, as we get the information about namek "always having at least one sun in the sky" from dende, who's 8 years old, and likely just hasn't experienced or heard about namek's night yet. there's a lot of fun worldbuilding potential here! supposedly grand elder is only around 500 years old, and given that within his lifetime there was a catastrophe great enough to nearly extinct their species, it's possible that no living namekians know that their planet has a night time. but if they have, it's probably some huge legendary event, and is probably associated with porunga in some way since that's the only time the vast majority of namekians will ever experience a dark sky (do namekians have religion? holidays? questions for later...)

so COOL a three star system works! (as long as you allow for these substantial aus, anything for eternal sunlight..) however due to dragon ball rules we're working with a canon year of only 130 days. this is kinda problematic for a habitable planet like namek. shorter orbital period = closer to the (main) sun. given that there are already two extra suns shining light on this definitely liquid water having planet, this seems like we might have to do some magical hand-waving, which makes me sad because i find that boring. but its at least fun to think about what the magical logic is instead of just saying "eh it works because magic", so i wanted to try that! since the dragon balls operate on their own magical logic they might have a skewed definition of what a "year" can be classified as (and a year is pretty cultural too, right?). also, why do the dragon balls take a year to be able to be used again at all? (aside from plot reasons) like... what are they doing? with the dragon balls on earth, it was kinda easy to presume that they were "recharging" or that the dragon himself needed some kind of "rest", and that this process just so happened to take an earth year. the translations i could find were kind of vague on this, so im taking advantage of that vagueness. being about 1 au from the sun in this model, namek's "year" as defined by how long it takes to orbit its central star is about the same as earths (a bit boring, sorry) ! and the time it takes the other two objects in its system to make a full rotation around their shared center far far exceeds that, so i kind of don't think theres any justification to define a namekian "year" as 130 days other than that being the time it takes for the dragon balls to recharge, which makes perfect sense to me culturally! i mean, given that there are three suns, surely the amount of time it takes for your planets magical wish granting dragon to start working again would be a much more meaningful unit of measurement than the time it takes your planet to complete and orbit around your smallest sun (oh god what are namekian seasons like. probably fucked. another question for later). also from my wikipedia skimming it looks like alpha centauri's planet (assuming its a planet) has a similar orbital period to earth's too. its nice to have some real-life justification 👍

theres more to say about that but im moving on from this part for now. i just wanted to provide justification for a namekian year being however long it needs to be in order for namek to have three suns and still have liquid water.

i wanna talk a bit about the planet itself. namely: why the fuck is the sky green??

almost any other sky color could have some non-poison gas explaination except green. DAMMIT!! but its fine we can make it work. (also the plants are blue. which is actually a lot less problematic but i'll talk abt that later) im referencing this artifexian video for my information here btw 👍he gives a few ways that a sky could appear green but we kinda have to rule out all of them here except for something green being physically suspended in the air, because there just isnt any light/atmosphere combination that makes the sky look green to human eyes. since krillin is a human whos just so super wicked strong he can also fly, id be fine hand-waving breathing a green gas or dust for him and gohan, but. bulma is on that planet too... breathing away... also there's pretty clearly grass on this planet and like, brown earth. so mars like dusty skies dont make a lotta sense either. so i guess artifexian's sky-algae idea will have to work ! as horrifying as the implications are .... either these guys are just straight up breathing in green stuff all the time, or the algae is somehow suspended too high up to be inhaled. (also sky-algae would explain why the planet looks almost gaseous from space)

luckily bulma doesnt seem to be having any problems breathing it that green stuff, but like pollen allergies its easy to imagine that someone would be. which is kinda fun to think about actually. someone having an allergic reaction to the namekian sky, validating bulma's concern about breathable atmosphere would be a lot of fun... BUT I DONT HAVE TIME FOR THAT FOR NOW !! i have other goals in mind. i just wanted to record this "namek's sky is green because theres guys in there" concept somewhere. also, three suns at various levels of rising at setting at all times, while not portrayed in the anime due to technical limitations, would almost CERTAINLY mean namek would have a really cool variety of sky colors! just all tinted green because of the sky algae. of course sky algae doesnt need to be green all the time, nor does it need to be in the sky (or alive) all the time. maybe the green skies are new post ecological disaster? very fun to imagine pre-guru namekian skies....

[theforestghost]

MegOP Week 2024 Day 4

Day 1: Peace Fandom: Transformers Animated Prompt: Optimus is the reincarnation of the 13th but does not know it. Rating: G

Optimus stirred slightly, recharge lingering in his frame as his optics slowly came online. The room he was in was dark, a low purple glow from the ceiling lights giving away nothing but shadows. Beside him, Megatron remained deep in his own recharge, large engines purring in a familiar hum that nearly lulled Optimus right back under. He resisted however, moving his helm to look up at the mech he was comfortably laying against. 

Megatron laid on his back kibble, one arm under Optimus’ helm as a pillow and the other laid across his waist like a weighted blanket that he knew from experience he could not move. In fact, this weighted blanket had a habit of holding him tighter whenever he tried to move too early in the day cycle. Optimus didn’t mind though; he loved these domestic starts to his solar cycle. Megatron clearly didn’t mind either since the large warlord always grumbled about Optimus waking far too early and dragging him back into a cuddle session until mid cycle at least. 

Optimus turned to face Megatron and carefully moved his servo to the other’s helm, gently tracing over the features with a barely there touch. Despite how much Megatron enjoyed waking late, the warlord was a surprisingly light recharger and would awaken at the slightest jostle. So Optimus had picked up a habit of quietly admiring his lover during these early cycles, watching his slumbering faceplate and sometimes daring to run a digit along his frame. It was therapeutic in a way. 

Optimus didn’t understand why he found such solace in Megatron. Just a couple of stellar cycles ago, the two of them were at each others throat cables. Their only goal had been to defeat the other and in the end, Optimus had succeeded in capturing Megatron. Not like it had actually lasted long since the moment his trial was held, Megatron was free and just vorns later, Optimus had been captured by him instead. Though he did have Ultra Magnus to thank for that loss. His assault on the Decepticons had hit Optimus as well and Megatron had taken advantage of the attack to capture Optimus. Things had gone by quickly after that.

Optimus had eventually defected, becoming Megatron’s new strategist. They’d restarted their assault on Cybertron, specifically in Iacon where Optimus was caught by Alpha Trion and told about his identity as the reincarnation of Thirteen. Optimus hadn’t believed the old mech until he’d had the Matrix of Leadership forced into his spark chamber and recalled every single memory of the mech. His inner turmoil over that had been stressful to every bot around him and eventually Megatron managed to remove the Matrix and free him. Optimus still had the memories of Thirteen but was no longer under the influence of his “siblings”.

A large and warm servo came and rested on the back of Optimus’ helm, making him look up at Megatron who watched him with warm crimson optics. Optimus let his own servo rest against his cheekplate in turn, smiling up at his lover who hugged him close. 

“What has woken you so early?” Megatron mused, his tone soft and hushed, thick with recharge. Megatron began stroking along his back struts with his free servo and Optimus let out a soft purr at the feeling.

“Nothing important.” Optimus said, laying his helm against the side of Megatron’s chassis.

“Your field says otherwise.” Megatron replied.

Optimus scowled slightly before letting out a soft ex-vent. “I recalled the time I had with the Matrix,” he explained. “It’s hard to believe that you removed it just two solar cycles ago. I still feel so raw…”

“I would think you would.” Megatron said. He gently pressed his field again Optimus, letting it embrace the younger mech in a way Megatron knew he enjoyed immensely. “The artifact is one of great power and whatever or whomever is inside put a great deal of stress on you, both physically and mentally. I would be more surprised if you did not feel raw.”

Optimus said nothing, just buried his faceplate into Megatron even more. The warlord turned his frame to face Optimus, embracing the smaller mech completely. Optimus was a cuddler and Megatron knew he found great comfort in touch and affection. Something Megatron himself had no issues in offering to his little one whenever he needed it.

“Can you stay here with me?” Optimus muttered against Megatron.

“I do not see why not.” Megatron hummed, resuming his stroking of Optimus’ back struts with his digits. 

He enjoyed peaceful day cycles like this.

[bumblebee-is-best-boi]

I finally finished the OptiRatch oneshot

Its a little short, but wonderful

Here it is

vvvvvv

Dont Go.

The footsteps echoing throughout the medbay caught Ratchet’s attention, making his antenna and finials quiver for a slight second from the vibrations before settling. These were not the scampering footsteps of minibots, nor was it like any of the racer Autobots; these were the footsteps of someone big. Setting down his datapad, he turned around from his desk to look at who entered the medbay. Hopefully it wasn't some dumbaft who blew themselves up playing around with weapons, he had no patience for such patients anymore today… they kept giving him a helmache…

No… it wasn't even a patient at all. It was Optimus Prime… his lovely conjunx. His lovely, sweet, and elegant conjunx, his forever sweetspark, his everything… Ratchet couldn’t help but soften his gaze at the Prime. The sun was at just the right angle that made Optimus’s frame shimmer brightly in the rays of the sun. He was glowing, as if Primus was shining his divine light on him. Ratchet stared longingly at his conjunx’s frame before gaining his composure and professionalism, standing up straight and looking into Optimus’s optics.

Now wasn't the time to look at his conjunx like… that. There was work to be done… they could do anything they wanted in their quarters later when he was off his shift…

“Good morning Optimus.” Ratchet said before looking around and looking up at Optimus, slight fear dawning in his optics.

Their sparklings were nowhere to be seen!

“Where are Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Smokescreen, Mirage, and Rodimus? Are they somewhere nearby? Are they anywhere in the base at all? Please don't tell me they went out scouting without telling anyone again…”

A hidden panic bubbled up in his spark. What if someone hurt them? What if they accidentally hurt themselves? What if the Decepticons kidnapped them? What if-

What if they were dead again?

Optimus noticed how scared Ratchet seemed and smiled, putting a stop to Ratchet’s worries, “They’re out racing. After the whole…” Optimus’s smile faltered, almost fading away, at this, but he composed himself and continued, “situation… they haven’t really been leaving each other’s sides. I think I saw Smokescreen clinging to Rodimus before they left with the others to race. I don't think Smokescreen will be letting go of any of them any time soon. I don't even think we can separate any of them from each other any time soon…”

“Understandable.” Ratchet sighed, averting his optics from the Prime’s gaze.

He also felt the same way. His conjunx and all of his sparklings except for one… had all died due to some battle that went way differently than everyone had expected… one that went from a simple battle… to an utter bloodbath… Thank Primus for bringing them back to life. This was probably one of the only times he prayed for Primus… he was lucky enough that his prayers were answered and he got his conjunx and sparklings back. But Ratchet couldn’t help but feel scared. What if all of a sudden, he would lose them again? His audial fins lowered at the thought… it had haunted him for solar cycles, stolen countless sessions of recharges from him… and brought him back to as horrible as he felt at the height of the war.

All of a sudden Ratchet realized that Optimus was still staring at him… how long had he been standing there now? Ratchet had completely lost track of time.

“Is something wrong, Ratchet? You seem… sad. Very sad, dear conjunx.” Optimus looked at Ratchet with a concerned expression on his faceplate.

Ratchet paused, then shook his head, “No… I’m fine. I'm really fine. Dont worry about me, I'll be okay. I promise, sweetspark.”

Ratchet knew it was horrible to be pushing Optimus away like this again, but he didn’t want to bother Optimus with his worries anymore. Optimus had too much on his plate already… being revived from the well of allsparks isn't fun, and Ratchet felt like he would just be a burden… which he hated. 

Of course, Ratchet knew that Optimus would notice that he wasn’t saying the truth, and Ratchet hoped that this time, Optimus would let it slide, and not make a big discussion out of it. They were both still dealing with the whole… death situation, and no matter how much they tried to avoid talking about it, it lingered over them like a shadow, waiting for its time to strike.

Not wanting to deal with it right now, Ratchet turned his focus back onto his datapads, hoping that the tenseness would dissipate. But when he heard Optimus leaving, he couldn’t help but say, in a voice that betrayed a great sadness:

“… Stay. Don’t go. Please.”

Optimus stopped and turned around to look at Ratchet, a concerned look forming on his faceplate. After a while of staying still, he eventually started walking back towards Ratchet. Wrapping his servos around his conjunx’s frame, he held Ratchet in a loving embrace, never wanting to let go.

“I won't. I’ll stay right with you, my sweetspark.”

“Please. I don't want to lose you again.”

“Don't worry, I don't plan on ever leaving, my dear dear conjunx.”

They stayed in their embrace for many moments, not wanting to let the other go… 

After a while, Optimus spoke up, breaking the silence: “Ratchet, I guess it's best for you to stop working, come along, have some energon, and spend some time with me… just for a couple of joors, okay?”

Ratchet looked up at Optimus. At this angle, Optimus’s optics looked like wonderfully polished sapphires; optics that could tell millions of years worth of stories, ones that were burdened with troubles, and yet so peaceful… What a wonderful sight.

But wait! He still had work to do… Ratchet looked at his desk, where the datapad was laying…

Frag it.

He went with Optimus.

..............................................................................................................................

@optimusprime-stuffs, @ultra-phthalo here ya go! (I forgot if you guys wanted to be tagged or not sorry T>T)

[askroboky]

Hey. So. Do you eat? At all. Can you eat? How you power up? Are you charge from the charger or something? *talks fast, leaves bouquet of blue tulips, with a note "to a beatiful white hair baker", turnes to leave*

If you can eat something, i can bring you french soup!

*runs away*

I DON’T NEED TO EAT BUT I DO HAVE A HYPER EFFICIENT MECHANISM THAT TURNS FOOD INTO ENERGY!

ANYWAYS TO RECHARGE MY ENERGY I HAVE MULTIPLE MECHANISMS TO CONVERT INTO ENGERY!

IN MY LIST OF HYPER ECOLOGICAL POWER GENERATION METHODS I CAN USE:

-SOLAR ENERGY THROUGH MY EYES

-THERMAL ENERGY WHEN I CREATE HEAT KICKING ASS AND GENERAL MOVEMENT

-I CAN BE FUELLED BY LIGHTING OR ANY ELECTRIC MAGIC

IN THE NOT SO ECOLOGICAL I CAN CHARGE USING MAGIC POWER SORCES AS IN THE ONE USED FOR THE MAGIC COMMUNICATION DEVICES! AND TO TOP IT OFF I HAVE AN EMERGENCY POWER BATTERY JUST IN CASE!!!

HUH FLOWERS? VENOM IS SUPER LUCKY!! I WISH A GIRL WOULD GET ME CUTE STUFF LIKE THAT! OH WELL I WILL JUST HAVE TO FIND A GIRL MYSELF!

AND I CAN EAT SOUP IF YOU WANT!

WAIT DON’T RUN OFF I NEED TO GIVE SAMPLES!!