#how none of the autobots put two and two together is shocking but not surprising

[sxilor-1010]

I like to imagine that at some point in their relationship (nearing the end of S1 for example), Starscream accidentally crashed into something while outrunning the Autobots because he couldn't get Emilyn off of his mind.

This marks the beginning of his stupidity to realize he was falling in love with a human girl.

[theoceanoasis]

Hot rod’s life after picking Soundwave when the wall is put up. He’s sparked.

There was a lot of work that needed to be done rebuilding their home. During the first few weeks there would be the occasional Decepticon who'd try and challenge him to a fight. Either Soundwave would step in or he'd attack them, which seemed to gain him some respect.

Although the Decepticons were a lot more ruthless and less social compared to the Autobots. He'd gotten used to it and found himself adjusting.

The most surprising thing about changing sides was Shadow Striker. Although he knew she was a friend of Soundwave's. It wasn't until he was on the Decepticons side that he realized just how valuable their friendship was.

Although he had lot's of friends none of them was as deep as the one Shadow Striker and Soundwave had. He knew that if anything happened those two would immediately be there for each other.

At first he didn't get along with Shadow Striker. The two of them were very different and Shadow Striker was sizing him up. Wanting to make sure he was good enough for Soundwave. She was also less than impressed that he'd gotten sparked and had accused him of doing it on purpose. However over time they formed a sort of friendship.

When Soundwave was busy doing whatever Megatron wanted. Shadow Striker would help him around the house getting everything ready. She was good with tools and helped make the crib. Which made him cry in happiness and had startled Shadow Striker.

Carrying was definitely an experience and there were some bad things, like constantly changing emotions, feeling hungry all the time, while being nauseous at the same time. There were also a lot of good things. Which made it all worth it.

Stroking his belly it felt like he was meant to do this. Carrying his sparkling felt right and he couldn't wait to meet them.

It was hard finding a medic and they ended up having to sneak onto the other side to see Ratchet. He was the only Autobot who knew he was carrying. The medic had been shocked to find out and during a scan they learned his spark baffle had been destroyed, when he'd been submerged in toxic energon.

He'd been worried the toxic energon would affect his little one, and Ratchet had reassured him that his little one would be fine. He'd also given him some special paint remover if he ever wanted to change his paint job. He decided against it because the dark colors helped him blend in more with the Decepticons.

Slowly over the next few months their home was coming together. The two of them were as close as ever. Both of them excited about their little one as they cuddled together.

[transformerfan97]

I have no idea where this came from? But uhhhh...here have this fic I wrote today on my day off. Should I post a second chapter?

Anyway, sorry for any/all mistakes! Hope you all enjoy! Sorry I posted it on my phone so I couldn't add the "read more" thing!

This is the time that I've just made up for them. I know it's not 100% right but whatever. I got it from TFwiki at least:

Nano-klik: Seconds 

Klik: Minutes 

Groon: Hours 

Cycle: Days

Breem: Weeks

Orn: Months

Vorn: 1 year

Joor: 5 years

Deca cycle: 10 years 

Mega cycle: 50 years

Solar cycle: 100 years 

Stellar cycle: 1,000 years 

_________________________

"So when were you two gonna tell me about this?"

Prowl and Smokescreen looked up from their respective tables towards the door of the rec room. In it stood a very rare sight; a pissed off Bluestreak. His arms were crossed, doorwings held high in agitation, and face scowling. Two more very rare things followed this, Prowl bit his lip and looked to his elder brother and Smokescreen sighed then stood up to be the mature one. 

The rec room went dead silent to watch the trio. Everyone knew the three were brother's, and fights weren't uncommon. However, when a fight broke out it was usually between Smokescreen and Prowl with Bluestreak coming between them. To see Bluestreak mad at one was rare. If he was, he'd usually ask to speak with said brother privately, and sometimes he'd ask the other to join. To see him this mad, and at both, enough to approach them in a public setting? Something big happened.

"Blue-"

"When was I supposed to find out? Next time we see him? Or when he's dropping off his new sparkling? Or when the bot is dropping off a sparkling to us? Or, or, in a few hundred or thousand solar cycles when we run into a bot that looks just like us?!" Bluestreak growled. "Because you know that's how it'll happen!"

"Bluestreak!" Smokescreen yelled, "he's on his way to visit, and the bot is comin' with him."

Bluestreak's optics went wide at this, "Wh-what-? How do you know?"

"Because he told me."

"Oh of course he did." Prowl growled. 

Smokescreen rolled his optics and turned towards his middle brother. "He wanted it ta be a surprise for you two, and me. I didn' know the bot was comin' with until Jazz showed me the flight list." 

Bluestreak glared and Prowl rolled his optics. Smokescreen just threw his hands in the air and huffed. 

"Doesn't explain why you didn't tell me about the bot." 

"Because we knew you'd react exactly like this Bluestreak." Prowl waved a servo towards him, "cause a public scene, bring our family's personal business into the light, and throw a temper tantrum." Prowl scoffed at his little brother.

Bluestreak's optic twitched and he snarled, "you wanna see a temper tantrum Prowl?" He aimed his shoulder canon at his elder brother and growled, "I'll give you a fragging temper tantrum!"

Prowl's optics went wide at this. Red Alert, First Aid and Perceptor quickly jumped up and away from the table. 

"Bluestreak don't you-" before Prowl could finish Bluestreak fired a shot at his brother. Smokescreen grabbed the bot and pulled him out of the way before it could hit him. When Prowl looked back at his chair his optic twitched when he saw it sparking from the static shock his brother shot at him. He turned back to scream at said brother, but was punched in the mouth. Smokescreen grabbed Bluestreak's shoulders and pulled him back. Bluestreak struggled for a minute before he slammed his helm back against Smokescreen's chin. Smokescreen lost his balance and stumbled. Before he could catch his balance Bluestreak tackled him to the ground. 

"You- punch- two- punch- never- punch- tell- punch- me- punch- ANYTHING!" Bluestreak screamed in Praxian as he repeatedly punched Smokescreen's face and chassis. 

Prowl tackled his younger brother and held his arms down and pinned his legs with his knees. He glared at the struggling bot below him until Bluestreak finally stopped and laid flat to glare back. 

"You realize I could, and should, throw you in the brig and take your SpecOps title away for this? For unprovokingly attacking a commanding officer? And not just any, the-"

"The second in command of the Autobots." Bluestreak mocked. "S'not like anybot actually likes you or wants you to lead if something happens to Optimus Prime! For frags sake, he made you his second because if he didn't you'd whine and probably never have come. Not like you know the first thing about leading anyway." A smirk crossed Bluestreak's face suddenly, "besides you only raised through Praxian ranks, to get where you are now, because you're so good at sucking spike and spreading your legs."

Prowl went stiff at that. There were a lot of rumors as to how he so quickly rose through the ranks. The most popular one being he slept his way to the top. He could, and did, ignore most of them, but that one he hated the most. 

"You damn well know that isn't true." Prowl hissed. 

"That's why you're so good at being in this position, right?" Bluestreak hissed back. 

Prowl looked down and noticed what Bluestreak meant. Granted he was pinning his brother down so he couldn't move, it did look very sexual. 

"And with your own brother? That's fragging gross Prowl. Have some self respect." Bluestreak mocked. 

Prowl sat back on his knees and stared down at his brother with a blank look. He felt a servo on his shoulder and immediately recognized it as Smokescreen's. When he looked up at his older brother and saw the energon dripping from his nose and cracked optic he twitched. He inhaled to calm himself down and that's when he realized his own energon was dripping from his mouth. Raising a servo he felt it and when he pulled it away he was shocked at how much there was. Shrugging he looked down at Bluestreak and sighed. "Fraggit." Prowl pulled his arm back and punched Bluestreak right in the face three times. When he pulled back to deliver a fourth blow he was tackled to the floor. Looking up he wasn't all that shocked to see Jazz on top of him. What did shock him was when he felt the stasis cuffs put on him and himself being lifted and pushed out the door, followed by Smokescreen with Ironhide and Bluestreak with Red Alert. 

OoO

"I...I don't know what to say." Optimus said sadly as he looked at the three bots in front of him. "This kind of thing is expected of Red Alert, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, but even they don't shoot and attack one another."

"There are two accounts of Sideswipe putting Red Alert in the medbay, three of Sunstreaker putting Red Alert there, three of Red Alert putting Sideswipe there, four of Red Alert putting Sunstreaker there, and over ten of them all ending up there together because of fights." Prowl said, a slight annoyance to his voice. 

Red Alert went stiff at this. Prowl has access to a lot of information, especially as second in command, but even he shouldn't know medical information on bots. Unless it's critical of course. 

"Rung and Ratchet have told the three of us if we can't talk it out then to sort out our issues physically. Multiple times. Not that that's your business." Red Alert replied dryly. "How you even know our medical information is beyond me, and a breach of security and Autobot privacy."

"I'm second in command. Nothing is a breach for me." Prowl mumbled, his back to Red Alert. 

"I'm the head of security and security director. I know more than any bot what they should know and who should know what, and as second you do not have access to private medical records of other Autobots. Only Ratchet, Rung, First Aid, Swoop, Ambulon and Pharma have access. As well as Optimus Prime, only if he requires specific information for a valid reason. In fact a Conjunx can't access the other bots' medical records unless given permission." 

Prowl huffed and kept his back to Red Alert. Optimus watched his second and security director for a moment before sighing and leaning against the front of his desk. 

"Prowl, Red Alert is right. You have no right to that information. How did you acquire it?"

"This is really what we're focusing on? Not Bluestreak attacking Smokescreen and I? As well as making accusations against me?"

"What accusations?" Optimus asked, looking at Bluestreak. 

Bluestreak sat up straight when Optimus addressed him, but glanced at his brother and glared, "I didn't accuse Prowl of anything."

"There were plenty of Autobots in the rec room Bluestreak. You can't lie your way out of this one." Prowl growled at his brother. 

"Prowl, you an' Blue were speakin' Praxian. None of us had any idea what you were sayin'." Ironhide said, crossing his arms. 

"We were what?" Prowl asked. 

"Speakin'- bot are ya deaf?" Ironhide growled. 

"Ironhide please." Optimus raised a servo and Ironhide rolled his optics. "Smokescreen can you please tell us what Bluestreak and Prowl were saying?"

Smokescreen stared at him for a moment then blinked, "ummm...Blue knocked me out. I came round and saw Prowl on top of him on his knees." 

"So, no one understood what Prowl or Bluestreak were saying?" Optimus asked the other three. 

"I sorta caught a lil ov it, but ah was tryin' ta help Smokescreen." Jazz rubbed the back of his helm. 

"Can you tell us what you heard please Jazz?" Optimus asked. 

"You speak Praxian?" Smokescreen, Prowl, and Bluestreak all asked. 

Jazz smiled at the three, "jus' enough ta get by. Anyway, all ah really caught was Smokescreen and Prowl neva tellin' Bluestreak anythin'. Tha's when Bluestreak was hittin' Smokescreen. Then when Prowl jumped on Bluestreak ah rushed ta Smokescreen ta make sure he was okay, an' he was in stasis. All ah heard from there was Prowl threatenin' Bluestreak with strippin' his title, Bluestreak sayin' somethin' 'bout you an' Prowl and Prowl being second. Somethin' not being true an' tha' was it." 

Optimus nodded at his third then looked at the three bots. He had a feeling he could fill in what Bluestreak had said to Prowl. He exvented and shook his helm. The three weren't known for fighting, not like Red Alert and the twins, but even those three kept their more violent fights away from prying optics. What could've possibly happened to set this off? Especially to have provoked Bluestreak, of all bots, to attack his elder brothers? Two bots he looked up to and respected so much.

"What brought this on?"

"Prowl accusing Bluestreak of throwing temper tantrums is what really started it." Red Alert said. 

Prowl glared at Red Alert for that. 

"No, I mean, Bluestreak, why did you attack your brothers to begin with? What did they do to hurt you so deeply you felt the need to do this instead of communicating with them, or perhaps coming to Ratchet, Rung, Wheeljack or myself?"

"These two didn't tell me something about our family. That I had every right to know!" 

Smokescreen sighed and Prowl rolled his optics. 

"If you don't mind my asking, and if need be Jazz, Ironhide, and Red Alert can leave and we can call Rung in here, what is it?"

Smokescreen looked at the ceiling, Prowl stared dead ahead and Bluestreak crossed his arms. Optimus looked up at the three bots and went to ask them to leave, but before he could, Bluestreak said something in Praxian. Prowl replied in a hiss and Smokescreen mumbled an annoyed comment back. 

When Jazz suddenly broke out into a fit of laughter all the bots turned towards him. The three brothers with annoyed optics and the others with confused. 

"Th-thats why you three did tha'?" Jazz tried to control his laughing, but he couldn't. 

"Truly a professional Jazz." Prowl rolled his optics and turned back towards Optimus. 

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, but you'd do it too I bet...well...maybe not you...probably Bumblebee though…" Bluestreak mumbled. 

"In hindsight, it's pretty fragging funny. I'm with Jazz." Smokescreen said, sitting back. 

"So...what is it?" Optimus asked, immensely confused now. 

"Our Sire has a new mate." The three said in unison. 

[aspacepiratesprincess]

To Be One With The AllSpark

Gazing out of the large bay window, Bumblebee beheld Cybertron. It was positively radiant. After a milennia, it glittered once again. Iacon, the place Optimus Prime's upbringing itself glimmered around them as they had begun their rebuilding. War had been all the bots knew for so long; on both sides. Autobot versus Decepticon; at each other's throats for thousands upon thousands of years, and finally, the curtain came to a close. Bumblebee had survived the conflict. With little to spare but the metal on his frame, they began the long journey of repairing what once was.

Bee's time on Earth had been only a blip in the timeline, for him. It was so short, yet so palpable that every time he thought back on them, the memories felt fresh. He'd come and gone. His genesis there had been rocky.

He'd lost his memories, he'd lost his voice, was assaulted by the Decepticon known as Blitzwing, proceeding the human military...and weary from battle, he somehow found himself hiding in the garage of a human girl's some time later, surrounded by primitive technology. He was endeared by her; they became the best of friends in what felt like the short moment he was there. He'd protected her, mused with her, they'd had a new kind of fun together. Alien to him yet right. His cherished human friend. And at the end of it all, when the Decepticon signal tower had been deactivated and Optimus himself came rolling up that big red bridge, he was gone.

Yes, his time there was fleeting. He never saw Charlie again, after what transpired. His duties were elsewhere. He had responsibilities to his cause, prior engagement to his Autobot brethren. But he'd never forget her.

"Here, try this one," said Charlie, hopping onto the step-stool to pop a tape into the slot she'd improvised to him. She closed it, and suddenly, sound was playing, which Bee couldn't help but move to. He bobbed around and took in the alien noise, until she smiled and put another tape in. The Smiths, as she'd called it. Her favorite. Not his, though. He promptly ejected it and almost hit her in the face with the thing. His bad.

The footage was from his perspective, being replayed from his memory cells from over two hundred years ago. Would he still think about her at three hundred?

Charlie was with no doubt dead. She'd certainly passed away in his time after their war on Earth, but he could only hope that she didn't die in their crossfire. The door-wings on his back drooped at the thought, as did the receptors on his head as he observed his memories. While they were ending a war and working to rebuild their home, she had been quietly living out the rest of her mundane life. Human lives were so short. Bumblebee would always lament that.

His thoughts circled back to the brave Sam Witwicky, who had taken Charlie's place in Bumblebee's life twenty years later. Who was regarded highly among the Autobots for his help, and regarded highly by Bee for his character. Frends were to be made in the humans. Even if Earth had spawned their own fleshly Decepticons.

He was engrossed rewatching these sweet memories, the outliers being the ones in which Charlie was almost killed because of him, but he focused on the ones that made him happy. Giving the slip on an officer in a high-speed chase, demolishing the car of the person who'd disrespected her. Fun times. There wouldn't be anything like it again.

Behind him, Optimus entered the room, and the old bot stopped for a second, watching Bee as he bittersweetly reminisced.

Charlie, tiny compared to Bee, hugged him for the last time. She rested her chin on his shoulder. His spark fell as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her, careful to not squeeze.

Naturally, Bee had thought that their journey would continue together, because that was how it should have been, right? They were partners, now. They'd been through a lot in their short time together. What role she would come to play in their quest for the AllSpark if she had gone with him, he didn't even know. But parting from her there was akin to when he watched his homeworld become but a speck in the galaxy from his escape pod on his lonely mission. He would miss her.

"Thank you—for—giving me—my voice," chattered his radio, stitching together whatever he could scan. She shed a tear, and knowing that it was time to go, he transformed. Into a handsome yellow Camaro, which Charlie was shocked to find out. He laughed to himself when she asked in disbelief if he could have been a Camaro that whole time. Down on the bridge, he saw Optimus come into view, the bulky red and blue semi truck. That was his signal that it was farewell. His mirrors shifted to put Charlie in sight, and he pulled out over the hill, leaving her in his rearview.

Bee didn't even have the tech she had retrofitted to him then. A lot of his parts had been damaged and replaced, though his voice module not yet repaired...he didn't have anything of their friendship left but these recordings. Shaking his head, Bee shut off the footage and turned to the bot in the doorway, who he'd known had been there. Charlie was definitely gone, Bee thought. That prompted a question he hadn't yet thought of. Standing before him was none other than their leader, presumably having come to check one of the many monitors and terminals.

"Optimus," Bee started, looking up to his leader. His optics shifted to meet Optimus' who waited for him to continue. His next question took Optimus by surprise: "Do you know what happens to human beings when they die?"

Optimus stared down at his scout, unsure as to how to answer such a question. He did not know. Did humankind have sparks like they did? Was their "soul" the true equivalent to their spark? Optimus knew the fate of Cybertronians. When their life was extinguished, they would become one with the AllSpark. Perhaps even Primus was somewhere along that way. But he couldn't say with any certainty just what happened to humans when they passed. They had their version of God. Was it all the same being, wrapped in different cloaks? Or were Humans and Cybertronians fundamentally different down to the core?

Optimus stood tall as ever, yet mellowly admitted: "I do not know, Bumblebee."

There was a pause in which Bee thought. The words eventually came to him. "Does that mean there's a chance?" he asked, dubious with a glimmer of hope in his bright optics.

Though stoic, Optimus's expression indicated a questioning of what Bee was saying. "A chance she has joined the AllSpark?" he finished for him. It was almost absurd. But Optimus truly did not know. "Only Primus and The Cube know such things, I'm afraid," he said. Bee visibly deflated, drawing away slightly from him. Optimus had heard his tales of this "Charlie", who had woken Bee from stasis and inadvertently brought their plans back on course. Who knew how long he would have remained powered down in that junkyard if she hadn't? Optimus wasn't sure of the extent to which Bee had gotten attached to her, but now that the fighting was over and Bee had the time to feel sorry over things of the past, it seemed to have come back to bother him.

After all, nobody liked a question gone unanswered.

Optimus put a gentle hand on the scout's shoulder, a gesture that he'd adopted over the years. "But, it is of my personal belief that we Cybertronians and humans are not so unlike. Though we may have different vessels, on the inside, we may the same. I think her...spark has been reintegrated, as we will all be, one day."

The unknown wasn't all appealing to Bee, but Optimus's wisdom went undisputed for the humble scout. Bee could be content with that answer. If they would all end up at the same place in the end, he didn't need to worry. Death was just a part of life, and it was coming for him some day, too. Thousands, maybe millions of years...but his spark would indeed be reabsorbed, in due time.

_________________________________________

I know the Autobots didn't return to Cybertron at the end of Bayformers, but what if we mashed that and Transformers: Prime's story together a bit? Idk I just like the scene of Bee looking out at Cybertron lol. The setting doesn't matter to this blurb, anyway.

The original version of this is still on my page here but I added some stuff and reposted because I felt like it :)

[my-writings-and-musings]

Firstly, I've just been dying to tell you I love your writting x3 it's absolutely fantastic! My favorite is the young liason ones. I think they're just the cutest! Would it be alright if I requested Fortress Maximus and Brainstorm for that? Please take all the time you need, and I hope you have an awesome day! You rock :D

Awww thanks a million!! I do strive to provide the cuteness, and I shall do so here! I'll also link the past Liaison posts for those who haven't read them yet!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: You're Here!

(I've already done Fort Max in part four but I just couldn't help doing him again with a different setup.)

Fortress Maximus

·Stuck in his cell after his "incident", he's unaware of the liaison program when it initially begins, and is thus clueless of what goes on beyond his tiny space in the dark. Amongst the crew, the young humans quickly learn of the ship's considerable history in its short run, including the hostage situation that nearly cost them their beloved psychiatrist. The humans are shocked by the details, but none more so than the news the bot responsible is jailed up in the depths of the ship. All at once, they begin to question such a practice; wasn't this poor bot just acting out of pain? Hasn't his victim recovered and forgiven him? Being told that Fort Max is too dangerous to risk does nothing to dissuade them, and thanks to their youth, the gathered group soon hatches a plan to see something for themselves.

·As one might expect, Fort Max is beyond surprised when he's awoken at night by a number of very tiny visitors to his cell, and is shocked to see that they're all human! Autobot training kicking in, he's immediately concerned for their safety and gets on his knees to encourage them to leave. Lots of these prisoners are dangerous! To top off his shock, the humans say they're not lost and are there for him. They explain the new program with the Lost Light, how they heard his story, and how they're all here now to see him. For an instant Fort Max is speechless, because these tiny humans have just done more for him than the entire Autobot cause ever did. It takes more willpower than he cares to admit not to let his voice crack.

·Despite all of his assurance to the liaisons that what he did was wrong, and that he deserves to face punishment, they hear none of it. Even urging them to leave and stay on the safe parts of the ship go unheeded. They've decided that they like him and don't want him to be lonely. It's incredibly selfish, but he can't bring himself to deny the comfort their company brings him. Every night, with stealth granted by their tiny size, they visit him for as long as they can. Some bring games and entertainment from earth to share with him, and in time he gives up trying to convince them to stop, finding each one of them to be a treasure he just can't give up.

·It's mostly by bad luck they're eventually caught. Ultra Magnus just so happened to be conducting a late night inspection when he came across all the liaisons gathered about the supposedly deadly Fortress Maximus in what appeared to be a slumber party. The former Enforcer had immediately called for back up and demanded the children be released, not backing down when they all made the baffling move to clamor between the cell bars and shield the gigantic Autobot with their tiny frames. No amount of explaining the big bots potential danger could make them leave. Eventually Rung himself had to be summoned to mediate, and at the sight of Fort Max so carefully cradling his friends and begging that any punishment only come to him so they would be spared... The psychiatrist happily declared there was no need for such caution.

·Put on the spot, Ultra Magnus had decided to allow a partial commutation of the bots sentence. Though he's under watch and isn't permitted to have weapons, he's allowed to have his own room and far greater range of the ship, but under supervision. The liaisons accept only after Max does. In no time they're helping him settle into his room, bringing him housewarming gifts, and coming over as often as possible to visit. It almost doesn't feel real to the poor bot. In an almost comical turn of events he's been freed and has gone from loneliness to being surrounded by tiny, loving friends. Even Rung visits from time to time, joining in on the fun and making it clear he holds no ill will towards the big bot for anything that happened. As they all gather for another movie night together, it occurs to him that his painful past has never felt so far away, and for the first time in so long he feels ready for the future.

Brainstorm

·Ever the on the move genius, his curiosity had been piqued the instant he heard humans were going to be on the ship, as a new species is always a fascinating opportunity. He's not all dissapointed by the gaggle of bright eyed youngsters when he finally meets them. Their tour of the ship is quickly guided to his workshop, and in no time he's showing them all the fun ways he's breaking physics or on the cusp of doing so. Pretty soon the rest of the tour is delayed so they can see absolutely everything he's working on. Brainstorm finds their attitude of "science just because" to be monumentally refreshing in the wake of his occasionally stiff crewmembers. Why does he need a reason to experiment on certain things? Sometimes it's fun and invigorating to just invent something because you can!

·As he finds them incredibly motivating and they love helping however he can, he quickly gives each human permission to accompany him as his assistants. With their unique human perspective, he finds himself seeking out ideas that could benefit them directly, whether it's purely for their entertainment or for more practical purposes. Their need for "food" in particular offers a great deal of potential. He's not foolish about it, of course! These little guys are delicate! But if he can make delicious meals that can be stored easily and prepared instantly, why not? Humans need to eat multiple times every single day, why not make it easier and more fun! The hardest part proves to be getting them not to explode...

·The liaisons come to love the incredible energy he brings to every single experiment, and the feeling is mutual. Even if he doesn't understand the references to "Bill Nye" or other such things, he happily allows the humans to take selfies as he works. Spreading the word to their fellows on earth can only help their species catch up, after all. In time though, he starts to socialize with the group outside of his workshop, even bringing them to Swerve's with him to introduce them to all his friends. They stick to him the entire time even though their enthusiasm proves popular with every bot on the ship. Having often struggled to fit in, he finds the feeling of belongings refreshing in ways he never could have anticipated it might be. He'd protect each and every liaison with his life.

·It's quite unexpected when somebot brings up his... stunt, with the briefcase. He'd been so happy for once that his failures had simply... not registered. Thus, he's caught off guard when the humans start asking baffled questions. It's all he can do to mumble an excuse and leave, the confusion in their bright eyes burning into the core of his spark. So many instances of them looking up at him with respect and excitement now seem far more precious, because there's no way they'll ever want to be around him again. Now they know he isn't just the ship's eccentric scientist, and that at his most desperate he tore time and space apart... In hindsight, how could he have allowed himself to forget? He's dangerous, and the liaisons should have been kept distant to begin with... Humans are far too delicate to risk anything happening, and he never would have forgiven himself for allowing harm to come to them.

·Unbeknownst to Brainstorm, the entire group was far from aghast at his actions. If anything, they were heartbroken for his sake. To have been so desperate he'd happily tried to erase himself from existence, in part to save a bot he loved... They want at least to talk to him. Using skills he taught them, they hack past the gridlock on his workshop, and the scientist is shocked by their effort. Before he can say a word they're surrounding him and offering the most effusive of reasurances, particularly regarding how they never want to lose their beloved science bot, and he takes it upon himself to comfort the crying group with a promise he's not going anywhere. In an instant, something becomes incredibly clear to him; these little beings care about him. They don't want him to leave. Trying not to cry himself, he assures the group that he's long since learned his lesson. There's plenty of wonderful things in the present to stick around for.

[sunshineandcybertronians]

Heart Attack - Knock Out x reader

Word count: 3,670 Warnings: None A/N: This was one of the first TFP fanfics I wrote. I finished it in June 2019. Hope you enjoy! Song: Heart Attack by Demi Lovato 

You hummed a song on the couch while watching the older two teenagers play a video game. Not truly paying attention with a big grin and a far off look in your eyes, daydreaming. about your secret friend. Knockout. You met him through your association with the Autobots. He decided to capture you, not too long after you were introduced to them, a few months after the other three kids were. Before the Autobots rescued you, you talked with Knockout. It was enjoyable and you both like to conversing. Thus, you been secretly scheduling time to get together. You loved being with him and talking to him.

Currently, your mind was sitting on a mental picture of him his finish shiny and a beautiful shade of red. His face snow white and handsome. Your imagination switch to him in his flawless alt mode rolling down the road against the sunset. Sighing, your imagination supplied the sensation of sitting in him at that high speed. Your heart began throbbing with a strange feeling. Realizing what you were thinking, you shook your head. No, you couldn't think that. You were just friends with him, that's all.

You were drawn back into the real world by Miko's victory celebration.

"Yes, I won!" Miko jumped up at her car knocking Jack's off the road.

Jack groaned before reminding Miko, "Okay, it's Raf's turn now."

"Right. Here," she handed him the controller.

"Miko, you've made the controller all sweaty," Raf complained, holding it by only his fingertips.

"Sorry," she replied in her cheerful way. "Not my fault my hands decided to do that while I was crushing Jack." She mimicked holding a controller and mashing buttons with one foot up on the cushion.

"How long has it been since you guys cleaned those off?" You asked, suddenly curious and slightly disgusted since you never recalled them doing that.

"Um, we're supposed to clean them?" Miko asked, sitting down and putting a finger on her jaw as if she was thinking.

"I... don't think we ever have," Jack slowly admitted as the realization came over him.

"Then I'll go get some wet wipes from the storage room. I'll be right back." You got up, began to clop down the hard stairs, and entered the Cybertronian sized corridor. "I'll come with," Miko called out while hopping up and running down the stairs with no regard for her own safety.

"Carefully!" Ratchet immediately snapped when he glanced her way.

"Sorry," you apologized for her, sinking into your shoulders.

Miko caught up with you and you both began running done the hall. You wouldn't normally have run, but you unintentionally mimicked your energetic friend, as well as doing so to simply keep up with her. Being in the corridor without someone usually made you feel uneasy, as if you felt that you didn't belong there due to your small size. Miko being beside you helped ease your insecurity.

She kept talking about some random things, like how she defeated Jack, that they need a new video game, and the monster truck rally she and Bulk went to. Most of the time you just nodded while she did the talking. You accidentally tuned out about half of it. Once you reached the storage area, you grabbed the box of wet wipes, cradled it in your arms, and began pacing back.

"So, do you like anyone?" Miko asked you out of nowhere, leaning forward while looking to you expectantly.

"What?" Your pupils became large and you almost froze from surprise.

"Do you have a crush on anyone?" she jumped out in front of you and walked backwards. "You've been acting more happy and daydreamy recently."

"I don't think 'daydreamy' is a word," you avoided the question.

"But who is it?"

"No one!"

She fell into step aside you again, pretending to examine her nails with a smug smile. "It's Knockout isn't it?"

That time you actually stopped in your tracks for a split second. "What?!" you said a lot louder than you meant to.

"Yeah! I saw the way you looked at him the other day when we had a run-in with the 'Cons. You were totally goo-goo eyed. If it were an anime your eyes would have had tons of sparkle and you would have been drooling."

"Quiet," you almost whispered.

"You were! Do you like him?" Miko was the most persistent girl you've ever known.

"No," you firmly answered louder than you meant to. You managed to stop yourself from shouting that you didn't know, feeling frustrated. "Look, I can't like him, he's a Decepticon. I barely know him. So stop asking," your voice had an unintentional edge. Miko even looked shocked and slightly scared for a millisecond.

In reality you didn't care that he was a Decepticon, you just didn't want to have to deal with a crush. They could be so annoying. Plus, it would be hard to do that considering you were on opposite sides, the Autobots might object, and he may not like you back. That last one could ruin your friendship which you valued so much.

"Okay," Miko shrugged and focused on the open room you were approaching. Although you could tell she wasn't convinced, even more so with her sudden calm and cool attitude. She was actually pretty good at acting when she wanted to, provided she's not lying, to the point only someone who truly knew her would be able to see through it.

"Here, think fast," you tossed the box to her as you ran into the wide area with most of the Autobots' presence.

Her pace quicken like yours and she rushed up the stairs. Your course, however, was aimed at the yellow Autobot scout. You slowed and stopped in front of him.

"Hey, Bee!" you called to him, "Can I get a ride back home? I think there's a report I left at home, so I'll just finish it there." With Miko being onto your secret- you mean, her thinking you liked Knockout, you had to get out of there as fast as you could before she told everyone her suspicion. Primus knows she can't keep a secret. You did NOT want to be around if she did so.

Bumblebee beeped in agreement and transformed into a yellow Urbana 500. The passenger door popped opened and you climbed inside.

"Thanks, Bee," you said as he clicked the seatbelt over you.

He buzzed, probably saying, "No problem," and drove through the tunnel and out into the Nevada desert. It was a quiet ride back, the light brown terrain blurred past you. You began thinking about Knockout again. They hadn't figured out that you were friends yet, in fact, all Miko suspected was that you liked him. This meant you were in the clear for now. Although if Miko told everyone, it would not only be embarrassing, they might keep a closer eye on you which would prevent you from being around Knockout.

Deciding you should tell him, you pulled your phone out and your fingers began flying across the digital keyboard.

Me: Wanna go for a drive? I'll be back home in a little bit, but don't go just yet. And be careful, the yellow Urbana's dropping me off.

You tapped send and leaned back in the seat. Normally you wouldn't have referred to Bumblebee like that, but it would make it easier for Knockout to know who you were talking about. Plus, it sounded like something Knockout would say and every now and then you found you were picking up his talking habits.

A buzzing against your skin made you look back at your phone and see the reply.

Knockout: Sure. I'll stick around, unseen, until you give the thumbs up.

You wanted to comment that it was almost impossible for him to be 'unseen' with his shiny, red paintjob and his gorgeous alt mode, but you knew what he meant. Blood rushed to your cheeks and you felt warm when you realized you just mentally called him gorgeous.

"Buzzz, chirp chirp, buzz?" Bee seemed to ask a question and pull you out of your thoughts.

"Huh." Being back in reality you suddenly realized you were only two or three minutes away from home.

Bumblebee repeated himself, but you still had no idea what he was trying to say. "I'm... sorry. I don't understand you."

The seatbelt moved on its own like it was alive. The part that was previously on your shoulder tapped your cheek, then stayed on your shoulder again like it never moved.

"Oh," you let out when you realized what he was asking. "It's just warm today, so that's why my face is turning red," you lied, although it was a warm day and you were grateful he cared enough to ask.

Before you could say thank you, the AC became cooler and the cool air felt pleasant on your skin.

"Thanks, Bee," you smiled.

He beeped another, "No problem," or "You're welcome." You didn't really need a translator to know that.

In no time, you were in front of your house. You waved and gave another thanks before running inside. Once inside, you secretly watched from the window and waited until Bumblebee was gone.

Pulling out your phone again, you typed:

Me: He's gone now. Just left.

You considered painting your nails red while waiting, to look better for him, but would it dry in time? Before you could decide, fifteen seconds after you clicked send, Knockout pulled up and you rushed as fast to him as you could, almost forgetting to close the door on your way out. The door opening, you promptly got in. It closed behind you and he began to drive.

"That was fast. You didn't even give me time to brush out my hair or anything," you joked while reaching for the seatbelt out of habit, but it automatically went over you and snapped into place.

"You still look just fine," he replied somewhat slowly in his suave voice.

"Thanks," you smiled and forced yourself to stop thinking about it before you could begin blushing.

"What's wrong?" he asked when he noticed you were slightly less happy than usual. You had been friends and spent enough time with each other that he could read you fairly well.

"Miko might be onto me."

"She's the girl that's Bulkhead's pet, right?"

"Partner, or charge, whatever you want to call it," you corrected. "But yes."

"She knows about us," there was a slight growl in his words. You could just be kidding yourself, but it might have been fear, in an angry way. Like he was scared of the possibility. "About us being friends and meeting each other, I mean," the red interior lights flashed as he spoke.

"Well not exactly, she..." you paused, looking for the right way to word it. You didn't want to tell him that Miko thought you had a crush on him, because you didn't, you mentally added. "She noticed how I... seemed happy when I saw you the other day. She may guess that I've been meeting up with you, or someone else will if she tells them."

"Would she tell them?"

"Oh yeah. That girl can't keep a secret. Except for the fact that cybertronians exist, maybe she's just bad at keeping secrets from her friends. Anyway," you regained your posture and decided to get back on topic, "even if they don't figure it out, they might think that I'll approach you and get captured or... join the Decepticons," you waved your arms out, careful not to hit Knockout, as you exaggerated. "The point is they can worry and keep a closer optic on me which would restrict me from seeing you." You leaned back with your arms crossed, staring down. "I could always text or call you. But I have no idea how long the house arrest would last. Plus they may wonder who I'm texting so much and see, and I would miss riding with you and seeing you in person."

Knockout stayed quiet as he processed it, wondering what he should say or how he should respond to all of that information. The only sound was the hum of his engine giving the necessary energy to glide across the concrete in the open desert while you waited for a reply.

"Hmm. Wouldn't want that to happen. If the 'Bots learn, Megatron might too. That would be painful. But the chances of him figuring out are slim, so I'd be more worried about you right now." He thought about it. "Maybe if that happens you could run away with me," he suggested.

You laughed, "As tempting as that is, I can't do that. That would be a little irresponsible and only make it worse. If they worry about me being captured or defecting, running away wouldn't ease them, it would make them more desperate. And they're my friends too. But thanks for the offer," you added.

"What should we do then?"

"I think we should just roll with the punches and hope for the best. There's no guarantee they'll find out. Although, we should be more careful." It scared you to think that you could lose Knockout, however you had to hope for the best. That was all you could do, so you hoped you wouldn't be prevented from being with him. The thought of being torn apart from him made your heart ach- you mean, it would be sad. No, you gave your head a small shake. You didn't love him, you convinced yourself.

"If you say so," he sounded a little unsure himself.

"Knockout!" a deep, scary voice burst through the speakers making you jump.

"Yes, Megatron," Knockout tried to mask the fear in his response, not wanting to be caught slacking off with a human.

"Knockout, where are you?" he demanded.

You froze and unintentionally held your breath. You didn't know if the Decepticon leader would hear you if you said anything, but you didn't want to find out.

"I was... just scouting for energon deposits."

"Well you're in luck," Megatron became strangely calm with a bite, like he was attempting to suppress his anger. "Because we have detected an energy signature near your location. Scout out the area and report your findings, IMMEDIATELY!"

"Y-yes, my liege." He turned off the comm. "Sorry, (Y/n), I have to go check it out," he said quietly, as if he was afraid the comm was still on.

You nodded. "It's alright. I understand."

None of you had to mention it to know that you were both terrified that Megatron would find out about your secret, despite only speaking through the comm channel. Your heart was still racing. By the way the engine rattled slightly, while driving off the road to scout the requested site, you could tell he was still shaken up.

Knockout stopped by a rock wall and opened the door for you to get out.

"It would probably be safer if you stayed here and wait for me. No telling if the site is going to be unstable or if Lord Megatron has already sent other Decepticons," he mentioned.

"Right," you hopped out, "I'll wait here." You watched him drive away, turning right and behind the orange-ish brown rock formation you were standing by.

Sighing, you wondered what you should do while waiting. Your feet kicked up some rocks and dirt out of boredom. Your mind wandered and you began to think about Knockout, then Miko's earlier claim. A warm feeling fluttered in your chest. You immediately forced yourself to stop thinking about it to remove the feeling and decided to distract yourself by putting in ear buds and listening to songs on your phone.

Several songs played that you danced or bobbed your head to. Then a song, that sounded strangely similar to your situation, began playing.

Puttin’ my defences up 'Cause I don’t wanna fall in love

Upon hearing that you knew it was "Heart attack" by Demi Levado.

If I ever did that, I think I’d have a heart attack

Never put my love out on the line

You nodded, since you knew that you wanted to never to risk your heart getting broken or putting yourself in a bad situation when it came to love... want being keyword. You can want one thing, but another thing can happen.

Never said yes to the right guy Never had trouble getting what I want But when it comes to you, I’m never good enough

A laugh escaped your mouth, recollecting that you often never felt good enough for Knockout. He was gorgeous, how could you ever compete or be good enough for his standards? This time you forgot to notice you called him gorgeous and argue with yourself that you didn't think that as your thoughts moved on with the song.

When I don’t care, I can play 'em like a Ken doll Won’t wash my hair, then make 'em bounce like a basketball

But you make me wanna act like a girl Paint my nails and wear high heels, yes you Make me so nervous, that I just can’t hold your hand

A hum vibrated in your throat as you began humming the song at the pre chorus. You remembered when you considered painting your nails for Knockout.

You make me glow, But I cover up, won’t let it show, So I’m puttin’ my defenses up 'Cause I don’t wanna fall in love If I ever did that, I think I’d have a heart attack I think I’d have a heart attack I think I’d have a heart attack

Your heart seemed to have taken note of what feeling it produced when you usually thought about Knockout and replay it while listening to the song. This time you didn't fight it and let the nice feeling flood through you.

Never break a sweat for the other guys When you come around, I get paralyzed And every time I try to be myself It comes out wrong like a cry for help

You were so into the song and relating to it so much that at the last line that you began singing along while dancing more vigorously, knowing that no one would see.

It’s just not fair Pain’s more trouble than love is worth I gasp for air It feels so good, but you know it hurts

But you make me wanna act like a girl Paint my nails and wear perfume, for you, Make me so nervous, that I just can’t hold your hand

You make me glow, But I cover up, won’t let it show, So I’m puttin’ my defenses up 'Cause I don’t wanna fall in love If I ever did that, I think I’d have a heart attack I think I’d have a heart attack I think I’d have a heart attack

You recalled how you'd be so much more happier being with and thinking about Knockout, but you'd never let it show because you didn't want anyone else to figure out. Thinking about it now, you didn't want yourself to figure out. You thought that if you kept denying it, then you wouldn't fall for him.

Dummy, you heard a part of your brain or heart say, how could you not fall for him?

The feelings got lost in my lungs They’re burning, I’d rather be numb

It felt really weird suddenly admitting you liked him, that it had become too powerful to deny, like the song was giving it energy. The emotion overpowered you in a way you almost felt weak, yet it somehow had a pleasant sensation.

And there’s no one else to blame

Sighing, the song reminded you that there was no one else you could blame for making you feel like this except for yourself. You let this happen and decided to meet him all the time.

So scared I take off and I run I’m flying too close to the sun And I burst into flames

You make me glow, But I cover up, won’t let it show, So I’m puttin’ my defenses up 'Cause I don’t wanna fall in love If I ever did that, I think I’d have a heart attack I think I’d have a heart attack (heart attack) I think I’d have a heart attack

A spin was the next move you decided to perform. While doing so, you spotted an all too familiar red mech leaning against the rock and white face smirking. This startled you so much that you lost balance and fell down on your bottom, facing Knockout.

Oh I think I’d have a heart attack

Your cheeks heated up, feeling embarrassed that he heard you singing and what you were just thinking about. His arms were crossed, causing the sun to reflect off of his doors, and an optic ridge was raised that didn't help your blush.

I think I’d have a heart attack

You stopped the song as it ended and pulled out the ear buds. "I... didn't hear you. How... much did you hear?" you tentatively asked while getting up.

"Oh, just the beginning of, what I assumed is, the second chorus up until now." He stood up straight and walked closer to you.

You stood still and wondered what he was going to do. An awkward smile played on your mouth while you pretended everything was normal. Although you moved your legs closer together and held your arm, giving you the appearance of being someone shy.

"So, do you have a heart attack?" he asked.

Your heart started beating so fast you thought it would burst out of your chest and your brain stopped functioning. "Umm... Uh, ummm."

Your flustered reaction seemed to please him. He tenderly placed a digit over your mouth to stop you from talking. He leaned down so you were eye to optic. A smile graced his faceplate while you stared into his deep optics.

"I have a spark attack too."

[liaswritesrobots]

So. What if the ladino on the lost light.. is like some alien kinda (no need to really go into depth with it) anyway, from where their from miners are HIGHLY respected so when they hear megatron was a miner they just go 😻🙀 and ye

After Megatron's trial you had heard that the Lost Light was open to organics traveling with them, or rather they were in need of organics traveling with them. They already hired a few humans to board with them, one of which had the job of monitoring Megatron and making sure he faces judgement. 

That sounded like a tough job, you certainly weren't jealous of them, but you still wanted to travel because you hated your life on your own planet, and the Autobots had helped get rid of the Decepticons that had landed there hundreds of years ago. Plus you've always been fascinated by aliens, both mechanical and other organics, such as these humans on the Lost Light, so this would be a good chance to learn more about them too. You say screw it and sign up, and fortunately, you get in. Your skills as a mechanic will apparently come in handy to both humans and cybertronians.

Your first day on the ship is exciting and you try to meet everyone you can, though you kind of regret introducing yourself to this Whirl fellow, and that Cyclonus guy is rather scary but it seems like he doesn't go out of his way to bother others so you may stay clear of him for a bit. You've really hit it off with the ship's captain and the human liaison though! Along with a few of the other more friendly bots and humans. 

Then you finally get to see him. The whole reason behind the war and the murder of countless innocents. The bar's chatter seems to die down and you can feel everyone in the room go tense. You and the human liaison are sitting together having some drinks on one of the little tables Swerve set up for the organics near his counter. Megatron sits down close by and orders a drink despite everyone looking like they want to put a bullet in the back of his head. You stare up, realising just how big and powerful this being is compared to you and your much smaller human friend sitting across from you, and you gulp.

The chatter slowly starts back up, though the bots glance towards Megatron every once in a while to make sure he doesn't try anything, and you and the liaison go back to chatting as well. You toss a few nervous glances back at Megatron every now and then, trying to be subtle, but the liaison notices and assures you you're safe since you're surrounded by Autobots that won't hesitate to put him down if he tries anything. You notice his optics shift towards the two of you as they say this and you shudder.

--

A couple of months have passed and you've gotten used to life on the Lost Light. It's a little wild at times but you love that, you love the excitement that comes with a mixed community that has different stories and ways of doing things. You've also gotten used to Megatron, as odd as that may sound. Sure, he's still scary, and he does make a few off remarks about you and the human's, to which he usually gets scolded for, but he hasn't made an attempt on your life or any of the human's lives. In fact you've been talking to him a little! You've found that he's an excellent writer, and you even find yourself enjoying some of his poetry. 

You're on your way to a meeting that the two of you have set up at Swerve's. You two usually meet there so he can give you some of his poetry to read. You aren't really sure if he genuinely enjoys spending this time with you or if he's doing this for an ego stroke but you won't complain either way because hey, good entertainment right?

You reach the bar and make your way to the table Megatron is seated at. Normally you walk up the little stairs on the side that Swerve had installed for you organics but to your surprise Megatron lowers his servo to you today. You hesitantly climb onto it and he lifts you to the table, before gently setting you down and excitedly pulls out a datapad, "This is some of my latest work!" he says laying it on the table.

You go over the poem, reading carefully enough to figure out the metaphors he used to describe the work of a miner, and your three hearts thump at the realization that he has an appreciation for the job.

"This is great!" you say with the widest smile, "I didn't know you had an appreciation for miners!"

He seems a bit confused at this compliment, "Well of course I do, they work so hard with so little recognition, they were the real backbone of Cybertronian society but none of the elite saw it that way, we miners were just disposable nobodies that they could use to get what they wanted and nothing more."

"What? Why would th-" you freeze, just processing the word "we" in his sentence, "Are you… are you a miner?" you ask.

"I was… before the war." He answers.

You can feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you quickly turn your head back down towards the datapad and clearing your throat, "Oh… um, on my planet miners are very well respected, it's one of the most important jobs and they earn a lot from it." You say trying not to stumble over your words.

You glace up and can see Megatron seems genuinely shocked by this, "Really?" he asks, "Miners on Cybertron were an oppressed group. It's one of the reasons the war started, we were tired of being treated so poorly."

Hearing this has you feeling uneasy. That's what the war was originally about? You kind of understand where he came from then. It doesn't excuse the fact that he strayed from his intent and murdered millions of people of course but… hearing that he and the other miners were treated horrible… it has you feeling sympathetic and… and… oh no.

"I um… I just remembered that Ultra Magnus has some paperwork he needs me to fill out." you lie and attempt to hide the fact that your cheeks are tinting green, "Excuse me."

"Oh, of course." he offers his servo again.

"No no that's ok! I can take the stairs!" you say rushing to them and jogging down then in a hurry.

He watches you leave the bar in such a rush, wondering if he had said something that upset you.

[grayseekerswritinglife]

Tricks & Treats 4/5

Chapter Four: Electromagnet

The throbbing grew worse over the next few hours as the Autobots repeatedly questioned Starscream and his Trine about the gold. Optimus Prime and his lackeys seemed convinced that Megatron wanted the gold for some undisclosed, but surely dire purpose. Oddly, and despite Skywarp’s obvious gluttony, none of them seemed to guess that the purpose might be culinary. Starscream refused to say anything. He hoped Skywarp and Thundercracker had the sense to do likewise, but he had no way of knowing since the Autobots had been smart enough to question them separately, in shielded detention cells that prevented them from using their comms to confer with one another or call for help. He had to hand it to the Autobots; they were learning.

Eventually his cell door opened and his two Trinemates stumbled in, shoved by a pair of Dinobots. Starscream lunged for the door, but it slammed shut. The two colossal lizards, who seemed to take their role as guards with utmost seriousness, eyed him with a smug air before they sauntered off down the passageway, tails swinging in time with their heavy, ponderous strides. Starscream glared after them.

“Why are they putting us together?” he demanded.

“I dunno, why wouldn’t they?” Thundercracker stumbled as Skywarp lurched against him, groaning. “Come on Screamer, gimme a hand, will ya?”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Starscream muttered, seizing Skywarp’s other arm. He nearly let go again when a feverish heat imprinted itself on his palms. "He’s burning up!”

“Yup,” Thundercracker agreed. “Got the gold-sweats.”

“Frag it to the Pit, Skywarp! How much of that slag did you eat?”

“Trick-or-treat, trick-or-treat,” Skywarp chanted, “trick-or-treat we say! If you don’t have treats for us, we’ll never go awaaaa—ay!”

“C’mon, Warp,” Thundercracker urged. “Just a few more steps.” They shuffled forward, but Skywarp tripped, his foot striking sparks from the edge of one of the floor-tiles. He lost his balance and plowed face-first into the wall where he remained for several moments before sliding to his knees.

“Hmmm, coooool,” Skywarp purred, rubbing his cheek against the metal bulkhead. “Niiiice.”

“I suppose that answers my question,” Starscream muttered, running a finger beneath the edge of Skywarp’s bowed helm. His digit came away with a thin golden sheen. Starscream sighed. “Actually, I guess it answers all my questions. They couldn’t get anything useful out of Skywarp in his current state, so they’re hoping that by putting the three of us together, we’ll talk about something more informative.”

“Well, they’ll be waiting a while,” Thundercracker said as he sank down beside Skywarp, looping an arm around him and pulling him away from the wall. Skywarp curled into his side, shivering and moaning softly.

“Belly hurts,” Skywarp complained.

“I’ll bet,” Starscream said unsympathetically. “Serves you right.”

“An’ they took my treats away,” Skywarp continued, his tone mournful. “Even what I had in my subspace.”

“They searched your subspace?” Starscream wasn’t surprised. The Autobots had searched his subspace too, but Starscream kept anything useful or potentially interesting in a secret partition within his subspace, one which only the most experienced hacker could have hoped to access. He knew they’d find it eventually, but he was hoping to be out of here before it came to that. Not that things were looking especially hopeful right now.

“Too bad they couldn’t take what’s in your belly,” Thundercracker murmured. Skywarp burrowed into him with an anguished groan, and Thundercracker drew him closer, raising a hand to stroke one of his intakes. “Dumb-aft.”

Starscream snorted. “He’ll be lucky if he gets out of this with nothing worse than a case of the sweats.”

Thundercracker grunted in agreement.

Starscream prowled to the door and peered out through the bars, scowling at the empty corridor. There were several detention cells in the Autobot brig, but all the others stood empty. As one might expect, Starscream supposed. The blast-doors at the end of the hall were sealed with a heavy locking mechanism which Starscream could have made quick work of, if only he’d had his null-ray. Sadly, he did not. The Autobots had confiscated his rifles, along with all their other weapons, and they had not neglected to remove his null-ray’s master power-relay. Without it, the weapon was useless.

Of course, getting past that door would only land them face-to-snout with several huge, highly zealous robo-lizards. Starscream didn’t like their odds against the Dinobots even at the best of times, and he and his Trinemates were hardly at their best today. He sagged against the wall, careful not to touch the bars, and glared. Mostly at Skywarp, but occasionally also at the door at the end of the passage.

Perhaps he dozed. He’d been known to fall into a stupor that resembled sleep when he was trying to work out a problem. In the far distant past, there’d been someone to rouse him from that state. Someone with large, warm hands, who would take him by the shoulders and gently guide him to the nearest chair. Or, better yet, would effortlessly carry him to a berth that smelled of rain-clouds and spent passion and—

A loud, metallic ‘thunk’ jolted Starscream from his reverie. He peered down the length of the corridor to where the blast-doors had cycled open, and had to re-set his optics several times. He’d been half in a dream, a dream which had taken his thoughts down familiar and dangerous pathways, and now the embodiment of that dream was walking toward him, large as life. So large, in fact, that he’d had to angle his massive wings so that their tips would not scrape against the ceiling. His large, presumably warm hands were holding a tray upon which rested three small energon cubes. The one in the middle glowed a slightly purple shade, while the other two were blue.

The towering figure paused before their cell and crouched, just slightly, to insert the tray into a receptacle in the wall beside the door. There was a soft hum, as if the contents of the tray were being scanned. Starscream suspected that was exactly what was happening. Finally, a small door slid open on his side of the wall, and he was able to remove the energon cubes before the tray retracted again.

“I see they’ve got you on rations duty,” Starscream remarked acidly. “An excellent use of your intellect. You certainly picked the right side, Skyfire.”

“I asked for this duty,” Skyfire countered with a smile. “The purple cube is for Skywarp. It contains a medication which should ease his discomfort.”

“Or kill him,” Starscream shot back. “How do I know these aren’t poisoned?”

“You don’t. You’ll just have to trust that our side of the war doesn’t operate that way.”

“And what would you know about how your side operates? You’ve only been in the war for—what, two Earth years?”

“About that,” Skyfire replied with an affable shrug. His gaze was warm; dangerously so, and that soft, clean rain-smell was wafting through the bars. Starscream caught himself leaning forward, flooding his senses with it. “You should be careful,” Skyfire added, pitching his voice to an intimate rumble intended for Starscream’s audials alone. “These bars are magnetized, you see. Electro-magnetized.”

He turned and strode away, humming. Starscream stared after him until he disappeared through the doors, then shook himself. The bars, while energized with a field that would shock anyone foolish enough to touch them, were not electro-magnetized. If they had been, he—and his Trinemates, and the Dinobots—would be stuck to them. Which meant that it was code for something. Something Starscream would find hidden in plain sight, just like the electromagnet he’d once stashed aboard an oil platform so that Skyfire could escape the Decepticons.

Starscream swept his gaze over the stark, featureless walls of their prison, then settled, finally, on a floor-tile. A floor-tile which sat ever so slightly askew within its housing. A floor-tile Skywarp had tripped over.

“Thundercracker!” Starscream lobbed the purple energon cube at his Trinemate, who caught it deftly. “Make him drink that.”

“But—”

“I don’t care if you have to force it down his throat; just do it.”

“Yeah, but what if it’s poison?”

“It’s not!”

“How do you know?”

“I just—” Starscream broke off as the lights went out. All of them. An alarm wailed in the distance as water began pouring from the ceiling. There was a shout from the far end of the corridor, followed by an animalistic bellow which could only have come from one of the Dinobots. Starscream dove at the loose floor tile, scrabbling with his fingers until it came loose. When he pried it up, his hand closed around a familiar object. The master power-relay for his null-ray. Within seconds, he’d snapped it into his cockpit canopy where it belonged, and applied a hefty dose of null-ray to the mechanism that was holding their cage shut.

The bars hissed open. He seized Skywarp's arm, hauling him up with his full strength. Thundercracker was helping from the other side, and even Skywarp seemed somewhat cooperative. Whether that meant he’d drunk the energon concoction or his survival instincts were simply kicking in was a matter for debate, but Starscream didn’t have time to worry about that. He kicked the floor-tile back into place as he and his Trinemates dashed into the corridor—and straight into the path of a charging brontosaurus.

“Me Sludge stop Decepticons!” she roared, bearing down on them at terrifying speed. “Stomp Decepticons flat!”

“Oh frag,” Starscream muttered, priming his null-ray. This was about to become the briefest escape ever attempted. His weapon might slow the Dinobot, but there was no chance of stopping her. She was literally going to stomp them flat. But then Skywarp was suddenly in front of him, holding something in one hand. Something that glowed bright orange. It inflated and became… a pumpkin. An energon pumpkin. Skywarp, ever the craftsmech where it came to pranks, had even taken the time to give it a silly-looking face with grinning jaws and glowing yellow eyes. It was among the more ridiculous things Starscream had ever seen, but Sludge froze, staring at the object as Skywarp bounced it on his palm—once, then twice, and then lobbed it at her. The gourd exploded, covering her face with sticky orange resin. She roared, shaking her head to dislodge the stuff, and Thundercracker grabbed Starscream’s wrist.

“C’mon,” he said.

They dodged past Sludge and rushed for the doors.

~~~~~~~

Author’s Note:  A friend of mine heacanons all the Dinobots (with the exception of Grimlock) as female, and for some reason that idea worked its way into my brain. My Sludge has taken it on wholeheartedly, and seems much happier with female pronouns. Who am I to argue with a giant, stampeding robo-lizard? 

This was written for @darkstarofchaos​ for the @transform-or-treat​ Halloween gift exchange. There are five chapters of it in all, and I will be posting a chapter a day until Halloween! Many, many thanks to @justawayninja or being my awesome beta. Your suggestions helped me get the story to the next level.

[bot-imagines]

Omg, l absolutely love the human cushion hc? But it gave me an idea (angst even?) about what would happen if the cons found about that humans could fuse?

(I really wanted to write more Mack, so here you go~)

Jack kept a firm grip on the console as the drill pushed forward, cutting through the rocks with an ear-piercing shriek. His heart was hammering in his chest, and his hands were still trembling from his encounter with Megatron. He could still hear the warlord’s voice ringing in his head.

“Think of the glory.”

What glory? What possible honor could there be in destroying someone while they were pinned under tons of rock with no way to properly defend themselves? 

“Seize your moment. Optimus would.”

Jack had been so sure that he wouldn’t. Optimus believed in honor on the battlefield, in allowing his foes the chance to surrender. He wouldn’t have struck Megatron down like that.

Would he?

Optimus wanted the war to end more than anyone. Even though he put up an amazing front, Jack had learned some of the Prime’s tells. The way that his eyes would narrow when he spoke of the effect the war had on Cybertron, or how his body would tense whenever he spoke about the devastation Megatron was scheming for an upcoming conflict. Jack didn’t know much about being a Prime. He’d never really known how to ask Arcee without sounding like an ignorant kid. But Optimus seemed tired. Prepared to fight, to keep going for the others, but tired. 

Would he have done it? Even if it meant going against his own beliefs, would Optimus have done what was necessary to end the war?

It was too late to go back. Jack had to find Arcee, Bulkhead, and Miko. There was no point in dwelling on the what-ifs, no matter how difficult it was. 

The sound of thundering, metal footsteps became apparent as he drove further into the cave. He fiddled with the controls and turned the drill towards the sound. He just hoped that he was going towards a friend, and not a foe.

-

Miko gaped as Starscream was shoved back by a drill head, the seeker letting out a loud shriek as he was tossed aside. The drill came to a halt and Jack ran around the drill, his eyes wide as he looked between Miko, Bulkhead, and Starscream’s crumpled form. 

“Jack! Get Miko out of here! Now!” Bulkhead shouted, grunting as he fought to keep the ceiling from toppling down on top of them. Miko’s eyes widened and she fought to take a deep breath as she witnessed her guardian’s struggle.

“We can’t leave Bulkhead!” she cried, hot tears slipping down her cheeks. Jack knelt down on the tread of the drill and held out a hand to her.

“GO!” Bulkhead shouted again. Miko’s lip wobbled, and she captured it between her teeth as she tried to keep it together for his sake. 

“Come on! Come on!” Jack called out to her. Defeated, Miko shuffled over to the drill, reaching out towards Jack’s outstretched hand. She wanted to stay. She wanted to help. She couldn’t just leave her friend to die here!

Her hand slipped into Jack’s, and she felt his own hesitance, his own desire to help, before light engulfed them both. They melded into each other, their bodies disappearing, replaced with the taller, stronger form of Mack.

They blinked in surprise, glancing down at their form before looking up at Bulkhead, their eyes wide. Bulkhead stared at the fusion, shocked as to how Jack and Miko would be able to fuse at a time like this. He opened his mouth to speak when Starscream groaned and began to rise. Bulkhead muttered a curse under his breath before looking back at Mack. “Get out of here! NOW!”

Mack frowned up at Bulkhead before stumbling to their feet. They ran around the drill to the console and activated the drill. The bit began to spin as the engine whirred to life. Mack looked up from the computer to see Starscream staring at them. They froze, their shoulders locking up in terror as the seeker sneered at them.

“What is this?” Starscream spat as he pushed up onto his pedes. Mack’s hand shot out and slammed down on the reverse switch. The drill lurched backwards, climbing out of the cavern and back into the tunnel. Starscream made a grab for them, but more rocks began to fall down, blocking them from his reach.

Only one thought filled Mack in that moment. 

‘Save them. Save them.’

They set the drill in a different direction, and sent the machine forward. They prayed that they were heading for the surface. They didn’t know how much longer Bulkhead and Arcee could last down here.

-

Starscream snarled as the tunnel caved in, denying him access to the strange thing that was operating the drill. He glared at the blocked passageway before looking over his shoulder at the Autobot Wrecker that was struggling to hold up the ceiling.

“And then there were two,” he hissed as he turned on his heel. Bulkhead glowered at him, and Starscream hummed as he rose a clawed hand to his chin. “Now, just what was that thing then, hm?” Bulkhead remained silent. Starscream took a step forward. “I would suggest that you answer the question, Autobot. Or else.”

“Or else what? You kill me, and you’ll bring down the cave on both of us,” Bulkhead spat. Starscream sneered at the logic in the Wrecker’s statement. “If you think I’m gonna beg for mercy, Starscream, forget it.”

The irony of the situation was not lost on Starscream. His wing flitted uncomfortably. “Erm, yes. Begging for mercy would be quite pathetic, wouldn’t it?” He forced an easy smirk to his face. “Well, you’re much more valuable to me alive.” He knelt before Bulkhead, bringing one of those sharp claws up to Bulkhead’s face. “Imagine Megatron’s appreciation when I not only rescue him, but deliver an Autobot. Perhaps I’ll even manage to catch that odd little thing that replaced your little vermin Miko.” Bulkhead glared at him as Starscream ran a single talon along the curve of Bulkhead’s jaw. “I believe that would restore my stature quite nicely.”

There was a thud and the whirr of a blaster coming online. Starscream froze, his smile disappearing as he slowly turned to find none other than Arcee, her blaster aimed directly at his spark.

“Don’t move, Starscream,” she snarled. Starscream turned to face her fully as she greeted Bulkhead and he greeted her back. She looked back at Starscream and brought the blaster closer to his face. “Raise your hands.”

He knew what she wanted. He groaned as he stared down the barrel of the gun.

-

Mack climbed out of Bulkhead’s cabin after they’d escaped the cave. They sucked in a deep breath of cool mountain air as Bulkhead and Arcee transformed back into root mode. Mack stared at the cave mouth, their hands still trembling from the residual terror. 

“We could finish them. Here and now,” Arcee said.

“Shame we didn’t bring any grenades,” Bulkhead added.

Something tugged at Mack. They swallowed as a thought pushed to the forefront of their mind. “Would Optimus have… finished them?” they asked quietly. They could feel Jack’s growing uncertainty. In their mind’s eye, Mack saw Megatron’s ruby red optics staring at Jack in the darkness.

“Seize your moment. Optimus would.”

“No. He probably wouldn’t,” Arcee said after a moment, drawing Mack out of the memory. “Not like this.”

Relief flowed through them. “But,” they said, “Optimus wouldn’t rescue them either… Right?” They looked back up at Bulkhead. He sighed and rolled his shoulder. He looked down at Mack and frowned slightly. 

“I meant to ask-” he said, “-Why did you fuse? I thought humans had to be happy to do that?”

“Well, normally yes. But that’s not always the case,” Mack explained. “Jack and Miko felt helpless. They were scared. They wanted to help get you out of there.” They looked down at their hands. “And I guess in that moment, Jack and Miko thought that I would be better suited to doing something. Like… Like being me would help them not feel so scared anymore.”

“And did it work?” Arcee asked, placing a hand on her hip. Mack glanced back towards the cave mouth, a faraway look in their eyes.

“…I’m not sure. Yes and no. It’s-It’s hard to explain.” They met Bulkhead’s thoughtful optics. The Wrecker hummed and nodded to Arcee.

“Let’s go home,” he said.

Mack was more than happy to follow.

-

Starscream whimpered as he was dragged out of the cavern. Megatron hadn’t spoken since he’d discovered Starscream holding up all of that rubble. He’d simply blasted it to bits before snatching the seeker by one of his wings and fleeing. It had taken cycles, but finally, finally, they had managed to escape the wretched tunnels. Starscream took a moment to circulate fresh air through his vents. He let out a pained warble as he was seized by the arm and thrown across the field, landing with a loud crash and rolling.

Starscream was trembling as he pulled himself up onto his hands and knees. He heard the whirr of Megatron’s fusion cannon, and looked up just in time to find it aimed at his helm. “W-Wait! Master, please!” he shrieked, cowering under the growing heat of the weapon. “I returned to save you!” The fusion cannon grew louder. “I searched for you! I was going to bring you the Autobot Bulkhead! A-And his pet human!”

“Why would I want a pathetic little organic, Starscream?” It was the first thing Megatron had said in hours, and the seeker felt a shiver of fear crawl up his intake.

“I-It did something! It melded with another human and made something else!” he sputtered out. “I-It was like a Combiner!” The sound of the cannon stopped growing.

“…Humans cannot combine,” Megatron said quietly. Starscream looked up at the warlord.

“These two did! I-I’ve never seen anything like it, Lord Megatron!” There was silence, and Starscream was sure that Megatron was choosing the perfect last words before he struck his second down. The whirr of the cannon die down, and a clawed hand came up to wrap around Starscream’s throat. He choked out a whine as he was lifted off of the ground. Megatron glowered at him, his optics fierce and red hot.

“If you value your life, you will tell me everything you saw,” Megatron spat as he brought him closer to his face, “Right. Now.”

-

(Should I continue? ;3c)

[writeyouin]

Maybe like a tfp scenario where optimus and human reader are in a relationship but keep it a secret from everyone until one day miko finds out when she catches the human giving him a cute smooch on his lips and miko takes a picture of that to show everyone else.

TFP Optimus Prime X Reader - Photo Finish

A/N – I have gone so far out of order with my requests that by this point I’m just picking up the ones that inspire me for a while.

Rating – T

Warnings – None.

Optimus held you lovingly in his servos as you pressed your head against his. It was rare the two of you got to share such a tender moment but hidden from prying eyes in his hab-suite, it was finally safe to do so. When Optimus had first asked you to be his, he warned you that the relationship would have to be kept secret so as to protect you from the dangers being with him could bring; you didn’t mind living in stolen moments for him, after all, Optimus rarely asked anything of you, the least you could do was keep a secret.

“(Y/N)…” Optimus said wistfully.

“I know,” You whispered. “You have to go.”

Optimus sighed heavily, wishing he could give you more, yet resigning himself to the fact he couldn’t.

You pecked his helm. “Stay safe out there.”

Optimus put you down carefully, making no such promise. How could he when each mission could be his last? Instead, he made a small request of you, “Go home, and get some rest. I will inform you of my return.”

“Is that a promise?” You asked with a small smile.

“You have my word,” Optimus said sincerely.

You nodded, satisfied as he escorted you out of the base where the two of you would part ways. There was no time for second glances or sweet words after the two of you left his hab-suite, for when everyone else could see you, any exchange with Optimus became a professional act.

You tried to walk slowly through the base as you made your way to Optimus’ hab-suite, but it was almost impossible to keep calm after hearing about his extensive injuries from the previous mission. Apparently, he’d barely escaped with his life after going toe-to-toe with Megatron. You supposed you should be happy he’d escaped, but truthfully, you were hurt that Optimus had broke his promise to tell you of his return. Instead, you had to hear about it second-hand from Miko over the phone. You knew you shouldn’t be angry considering the circumstances, but what else was there to feel when you were trying to stave off worry?

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ratchet said sternly from behind you, knowing full well the only room ahead of you was Optimus’.

You forced yourself not to clench up, hating that Optimus was alone and in pain with each wasted second. You didn’t dare to face Ratchet, fearing he would see your feelings written all over your face. Casually, you held a datapad in the air, “Prime asked for this. I thought I’d bring it, so Fowler didn’t come and bug him.”

Ratchet tutted indignantly. “I think not. Nobody is seeing Optimus until he recovers.”

You composed your face into a neutral expression, ready to finally face the grumpy medic. “C’mon Ratchet, what do you think will happen if Prime doesn’t get this? He’ll stop resting and come looking for it.”

Knowing how much of a workaholic Optimus was, Ratchet saw the logic in your argument. “Very well, hand it over and I’ll take it over to him.”

“What if he’s recharging? You are way too big and loud to sneak in there. He’ll never notice if I slip in and drop this off. I’ll be in and out before he notices, promise.”

Ratchet scowled, evidently not trusting you to complete the task without bothering Optimus.

“Ratchet, if you go in there and wake him up, we both know you’ll never get him to rest again.”

Reluctantly, Ratchet withdrew his servo. “Fine, but be quick,” he snapped.

“You got it,” You said, trying to keep up your act as you walked the remaining length of the hallway where Optimus was waiting.

Upon entering Optimus’ hab-suite, you weren’t surprised  to find that Optimus wasn’t resting. Instead he was hunched over his computer console, completing one of the million tasks he had as leader of the Autobots. Normally, you would have made a joke about his working habits or laughingly reprimanded him. However, you didn’t have any humour in you as your eyes traversed his body, noticing every dent, scrape, and odd patches of energon that had dried from crudely welded injuries.

Seeming to sense another presence, Optimus looked over, saying nothing when he saw you.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly, wishing you had something better to say.

“(Y/N)…” Optimus sighed, hating that you had to see him like this.

Slowly, you padded over to him placing your hand over a recently welded cut on his leg. “Why didn’t you call me? You promised to call me. I would have been here for you.”

“I did not want to concern you.”

You shook your head angrily, “But you did, Optimus! You did! I had to hear this from Miko, and she’s vague at the best of times. Do you get that?! I heard you were injured from a kid! It should have come from you.” You didn’t really know why you were yelling, only that you couldn’t stop, and Optimus wasn’t arguing his own defence. “Look, I know we have to keep our relationship a secret from everyone else, but when did we start keeping stuff from each other? My God, say something!”

Optimus bent down, pressing a servo gently on your back, “I’m sorry.”

You huffed defeatedly, leaning into his touch, “Yeah… Me too. I didn’t mean to get worked up about it, but please, you have to tell me about stuff like this.”

Optimus withdrew his servo, unable to respond to your affections when guilt weighed so heavily upon his processor. You swallowed anxiously, sensing the change in the atmosphere, “Optimus, what’s wrong?”

“(Y/N), I believe that we need to talk.”

You nodded slowly, hoping that meant something different in Cybertronian terms than it did in human terms. “Okay.”

“I am…” Optimus searched for the right word to convey his feelings. “Concerned about your welfare. During my time on your planet, it has to my attention that humans put a great deal of effort into cultivating relationships that will last a lifetime. It would be selfish of me to remain with you when I cannot provide the lifestyle you deserve.”

“Optimus,” You breathed. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Please, let me finish, you need to hear this. When I asked to be with you, I was being selfish, yet you complied. I then requested you keep the relationship secret and you agreed. I know if I asked anything of you now, you would say yes. When will the point come that I ask too much of you, presuming I haven’t already? You should not have to live a lie on my account.”

You shook your head, smiling adoringly at Optimus, your reaction shocking him completely. “I’d rather have every stolen moment I can get with someone I love than a lifetime with someone faking it.”

Optimus’ spark jolted, sending shivers up his spine at your declaration of love.

You bit your lip, backing away to the door, “I uh… I see I’ve given you a lot to think about, so I’ll leave you to get some rest. Goodbye Optimus.”

Optimus stood frozen in time, completely shut off from the world around him. He tried to put himself in your position but found himself unable to. He could never admit he loved you if you tried to break up with him, mainly because it would have broken him too much to hear. On top of that, he felt the familiar sense of selfishness that he so often got where you were concerned.

He called your name, limping out into the hallway after you. He expected that you might be long gone after such an awkward interaction, but as it turned out, he needed only to take a few steps out, finding you leaning against the wall with your head in your hands. You looked up tiredly, fearing that he’d come to end things once and for all.

His face became an expression of pure seriousness as he said, “I love you too.”

“Don’t run in the hallways Miko,” Miko said, immaturely imitating Ratchet’s stern voice. “Don’t be reckless Miko. Stop getting in the way Miko. Be quiet M-”

Miko stopped her sarcastic commentary, upon seeing you and Optimus in the hallway ahead of her. Optimus held you on his servo where you stood, kissing him ardently; by the looks of your tousled hair and flushed cheeks, the two of you had been at it for a while.

Miko rushed to grab her phone from her pocket, just in time to snap a picture before you and Optimus pulled apart, whispering in hushed tones. Miko crept away, admiring her picture and thinking about a lot of instances wherein you and Optimus had been together that were only now making sense. She couldn’t wait to tell the others about it and was going to wait for nothing to do so. The second she thought you and Optimus wouldn’t see her, she ran off, calling for the others.

While Miko raved about her photo to a group of startled Autobots and humans alike, Optimus placed you gently on the ground, wincing from his injuries on the way back up.

“I wish I didn’t have to go,” You said sorrowfully.

Optimus nodded solemnly, “Me too. May I escort you back?”

“No. You have to get some rest. Goodbye Optimus. I love you.”

“And I you, with all my spark.”

You gave a small wave, leaving him alone in the hallway as you made your way to the main room of the base where you would call upon a ground-bridge to take you home. You didn’t pay much attention to the conversation everyone was in, but you did notice when a sudden hush came over the room at your entry. All eyes and optics were on you, making you feel you’d done something wrong, though you couldn’t imagine what.

“Hey uh… Is something wrong?” You asked your new-found audience, looking from one face to another. Bulkhead and Jack were shifting uncomfortably, unsure of what to say, Bumblebee was making a series of clicks and whistles that Raf was unwilling to translate, Arcee simply stared at you as if impressed by you, Miko was grinning smugly, and Ratchet was shaking with undeniable fury.

It was Ratchet who broke first. He pointed an accusatory digit at you, growling, “You!”

“Me?” You forced a smile, fearing whatever was to come next in the mystery you had stumbled into.

“HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?!”

“Excuse me? I’m sorry, but what are you-”

“YOU AND OPTIMUS!”

“Me and-” You paled, looking to the others for help, but nobody said anything, each clearly waiting for some kind of explanation. “OPTIMUS,” You called, hoping he’d hear your distress and come running.

“DO NOT AVOID THE QUESTION!”

“OPTIMUS, GET IN HERE NOW!”

It took a minute but Optimus half-limped-half-ran into the bunker, clearly looking for some kind of attack. He glanced around, confused by the way everyone was looking at him and you.

“(Y/N), has there been some kind of problem?” Optimus asked curiously.

“Oh, I’d say so. They know about us.”

“About us?”

“Yes Optimus, about us.”

Optimus took another look at everyone’s faces, realisation dawning on him. He knew this was going to take some explaining, yet he didn’t know where to start. He glanced down at you, checking if you were okay and silently begging your help.

“Okay,” You sighed. “It’s kind of a long story, but if you let us explain, then you can chime in at the end.”

After an arduous discussion with multiple questions, an awful telling off from Ratchet, and many inappropriate jokes from Miko who you’d found to be the culprit, you and Optimus were finally free to recover in his hab-suite.

You stared guiltily at him, wondering exactly what this meant for the two of you. It was only a few hours ago that he was ready to break up with you, where did this put your relationship now? You found that you couldn’t sit and wait in the thoughtful silence Optimus had set.

“So… That could have gone better,” You said anxiously.

Optimus hummed stoically.

“I um- I can leave if you want. You clearly need your rest, and I’m just getting in the way of that.”

“This will change things,” Optimus commented pensively.

“Yes. Yes, it will.” You searched Optimus’ optics for answers or a hint of the future, “Optimus, is everything okay between us?”

Optimus looked at you as if he was seeing you for the very first time. The more people that knew about the two of you, the more danger you would be in. He wondered if he could put you in that kind of danger just to be with you, yet as he reached absently for you, he knew the answer.

“(Y/N), would you do me the honour of staying here tonight? I do not want to see you leave just yet.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Before, your secret relationship limited how much you could see Optimus and the opportunity to stay over had never come up. You smiled, fighting away emotional tears, “The honour is all mine.”

“I love you,” He said for the third time that day, growing to love how it sounded.

“Not as much as I love you.”

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[wizardwisenmore]

First Aid Gives Rodimus Hell

@alyonian a fic based on those posts about thunderclash asking first aid to write fanfiction for him

i put the final touches on this at like 4am so it might be a bit wonky, will look at it with a more awake mind later

The purple datapad that goes with First Aid everywhere is, supposedly, a personal journal for keeping track of schedules and random ideas to look at later. Which, in fact, isn’t completely incorrect but those schedules happen to be for in-person or online meetings with his clients and those little ideas he writes are for said clients. Well, now, “client” sounds a bit risque but what he’s doing is perfectly legitimate in First Aid’s opinion. He ignores the several helpful reminders from Ambulon that he writes literal porn sometimes, some of it far raunchier than one would initially think the medibot capable of. Hey, all that built up tension daydreaming about the Wreckers had to go somewhere right? So, whenever Ambulon does feel like reminding him, First Aid just in turn reminds of that nice, new, adjustable, and expensive berth he was able to buy him because of his “smutty money” which tends to shut him up pretty fast. First Aid is a bit loathe to admit how bad his far more, ahem, specialized stories are even to Ambulon. He supposes his willingness to write these kinds of stories is what got him his four regulars as well as his latest request from an anonymous individual that- Okay, no, First Aid knows exactly who it is. It’s so painfully obvious but he just doesn’t have the heart to tell Thunderclash that he knows it’s him. That big, soft-hearted lug is just so hopeless when it comes to hiding his identity, just, Primus, First Aid is having a field day with this one. The names of the main characters alone are enough to practically shout that his latest client is none other than the Greatest Autobot of All Time.

The content that’s been requested is more of a surprise than the fact that Thunderclash of all bots is commissioning a personalized story (fantasy) from him. He’s requested a story with two bots the heroic Lightningclash and the charming, beautiful, charismatic, kind, (the list goes on) Radius who find themselves (gasp) stuck on a planet alone together with no immediate way of contacting their ship. Lightningclash and Radius are then put through several perilous situations in which they save each other thus becoming closer and better people through their shared experiences (First Aid had rolled his optics at the cheesiness of it all but this is Thunderclash after all and he’s paying very well so, who cares?). While these initial interactions started out innocent enough, Thunderclash had become a bit bolder and requested a particularly saucy scene that takes place in a cave full of bioluminescent plants. First Aid doesn’t know if he should be ashamed or proud that he only hesitated for a split second before agreeing to write self-insert smut for Thunderclash with Rodimus or “Radius” as he’s being called in this specific rendition. He only hopes he can manage to write it without making it too obvious he knows and still be able to look Rodimus in the eye.

Ambulon shakes his head as First Aid taps the send button that makes a characteristic “woosh” sound as Thunderclash’ smut gets sent away to be consumed by the poor pining bot. He tries not to let it weigh too heavily on his mind as he goes about his work and even almost forgets about it entirely until Ambulon speaks up.

“Hey, First Aid?” Ambulon says over his shoulder while studying a datapad.

“Yeah?” First Aid looks over to him, medkit in hand.

“It’s a good thing that account of yours is anonymous,” Ambulon pulls a pained smirk and flips his datapad over to reveal the screen to First Aid, “because you just sent your smut to the entirety of the Lost Light.”

First Aid is definitely proud to say he didn’t faint then and there.

Thunderclash is just relaxing in his habsuite when a message pings in on his hud and he see that the story he requested from “NotaPrime” has been completed and opens it with no small amount of excitement. Another glance at the message has him frowning though. It seems that for some reason the message was sent to all of the Lost Light for whatever reason. Thunderclash worries for a moment that something might be up but puts it off for the time being in favor of his commissioned piece. A part of him cringes as he begins to read, the part of him that tells him that indulging in his fantasies this way is unhealthy and even creepy. If he was honest with himself he knows that this is just because he knows he could never be with someone like Rodimus, especially not when it seems as though he’s done something to upset the mech. All of that is forgotten, however, when he lands upon the scene where Lightningclash and Radius take shelter in a cave and things heat up.

His immediate reaction is damage control. He’s automatically sending Thunderclash an apology while rushing to call in a favor with Perceptor to delete the story from everyone’s accounts. The questions that surely will come with it he can handle, exposing himself to Perceptor is a small price to pay to maintain some semblance of dignity in the eyes of the rest of the crew. Anyone who reads it will know just who the smut is about. At this point it’s just a matter of beating the clock, a thought that urges him on, running through the halls ignoring anyone who tries to wave him down. Thankfully most people just get out of his way. Ah, the perks of being a medical officer. As he turns one corner just before the labs he spots Nautica looking over a datapad, giggling. He’s just about to put it off as paranoia until-

“Pfft, Lightningclash? Really?” Nautica chuckles as she consumes the little surprise gift that popped up in her messages.

First Aid doesn’t think he’s run this fast since before the war was over. Ragged and panicky, he makes it to the lab door just as a message pings in from Thunderclash’s anonymous account. It’s enough to make First Aid freeze in confusion and complete astonishment. The message reads:

“Oh! Yes, I saw that! But no worries! I was a little confused and concerned at first but you’re explanation clears that right up. I don’t mind other people seeing my commission. I’m sure nothing bad will come of it. Thank you for clearing that up and for the story. What I’ve read so far is wonderful!

-sent from Thorguy”

First Aid feels a crawling beneath his plates as if his circuits were doing a low-level defrag  as he just stares at the door panel to the lab. Did he think he’d feel regret? Did he really think that flamboyant , energetic Thunderclash would feel shame? Apparently First Aid didn’t know him at all. Well, he did commission blatant and explicit porn so, perhaps First Aid underestimated the durability of his pride. These thoughts flicker through his processor until one very key factor filters through the calming thoughts. Thunderclash doesn’t know First Aid knows it’s him or how he knows it’s him. Thunderclash thinks he’s secure. Thunderclash thinks no one will know who the story is about.

“That idiot,” First Aid rests his helm against the lab door.

The door panel slides open to reveal a very confused Brainstorm with various pieces of tech bundled in his arms making First Aid jump back, startling him out of his dark reverie. Tension bounces between the two mechs both trying to decide what to say.

“Uh, I was picking up some spare parts from Percy,” Brainstorm jostles the odd bits and ends as an indication of what he’s referring to.

“Right, yeah, sure,” First Aid backs up to let him pass, “I just, uh, was hoping to ask Perceptor for a favor.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure something’s wrong with my spam filter. I’ve tried everything but I just can’t set it up properly.”

“Oh, right, mundane stuff. Yeah, more his thing.”

They fumble a little as Brainstorm makes his leave and First Aid walks into Perceptor’s lab, exventing heavily after all the stress begins to ebb away. When he takes a look around the lab the dimness and slight mess strikes First Aid as a little unusual for the normally tidy scientist. When he spots Perceptor he can’t help but feel a little concerned at how tired he looks with his shoulders sagging as he leans back up against a counter and his fully exposed optics shuttering lazily every so often. First Aid makes his way to Perceptor’s side startling the bedraggled microscope and begins to do an impromptu preliminary check up.

“Ah, First Aid, wh- what can I help you with?” Perceptor manages to say after getting over his initial shock.

“First, you can tell me what you were doing that taxed your systems this much,” First Aid remarks, shaking his head at the results of his scan.

“Brainstorm and I pulled an all-nighter and I neglected to refuel,” Perceptor looks away in shame.

“You know that’s not good for you but even if you did that that still wouldn’t have been enough to make you this tired.”

“Yes, well, it was a long night.”

“It certainly must have been.”

Perceptor doesn’t say anything while keeping his optics anywhere but towards First Aid only succeeding in making the beginnings of serious worry bubble up in the medibot.

“Perceptor, be honest with me,” First Aid levels himself so that he’s face-to-face with Perceptor, “What’s going on with you and Brainstorm?”

The effect of that statement is instant and Perceptor struggles to find his voice in an awkward cluster of broken syllables. Eventually he gives up and exvents.

“I probably should have gone to see you about it earlier. I noticed that it wore me out quite a bit before but didn’t feel it was anything to worry about. This particular bout was especially tiring though. I try to reassure Brainstorm but it’s gotten to a point where I think I can’t just blow it off as nothing anymore,” Perceptor seems to have gathered himself more, managing to explain himself more thoroughly and honestly.

“Wait, so you mean…”

“Brainstorm and I have initiated an intimate and sexual relationship. Our sessions together leave me lethargic and I often have to recharge for a longer period in order to make up for it.”

“Oh!” First Aid brightens and begins a more thorough check of his systems, paying close attention to the power systems linked up with his interfacing array.

“Is everything alright?”

“Everything seems to check out. I don’t understand why you would be experiencing such heavy energy withdrawal.”

“Then why…?”

“Uh, this may seem a bit intrusive…”

“No, it’s alright.”

“How are your sessions normally? Is there anything you can think of that may relate to this?”

“Well,” Perceptor retracts into himself again, “Brainstorm is rather energetic. He never seems to get tired.”

“So you try to keep up with him,” First Aid sighs and shakes his head, “You shouldn’t push yourself like that. That or you should allow yourself more breaks. If you don’t tell him you’re wearing down he won’t be able to take that into consideration.”

Perceptor holds his face in his hands and nods.

“If you want Rung-”

“No,” Perceptor looks up, “I can take care of this. Thank you, I had wondered after all and you provided an answer. I should have realized…”

“Well, I can understand with a good partner it can be easy to get carried away,” First Aid relishes the bashful side of Perceptor he’s seeing now, “You should get some rest now to make up for you latest ‘session’ though.”

After a brief episode of mortification, Perceptor returns the light levels of his lab to normal and buts is monocle back on. He looks for all the world that he hadn’t just been absolutely ravished by his lab partner just minutes ago. The weight of his exhaustion still lingers but he looks more like his professional self.

“So,” Perceptor clears his intake, “did you need something.”

Everything he’d meant to talk to Perceptor about suddenly rushes back to First Aid making him feel a bit dizzy. All that had transpired just pours out of First Aid and Perceptor patiently listens to him then pulls out a datapad before First Aid is finished. At the end of the panicked explanation, First Aid watches Perceptor as he hums thoughtfully over the screen revealing the activity history of the accounts of the Lost Light Crew. First Aid begins to fidget as more and more time passes with Perceptor just analyzing the datapad.

“I have good news and I have bad news,” Perceptor finally tears his attention from the pad.

“Bad news first.”

“It seems as though that not only have many of the crew members opened the email but have actually taken the time to read it.”

First Aid slumps at this new information, “And the good news?”

“It seems as though Rodimus has yet to open the message.”

“Thank goodness for his lack of work ethic but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t found out about it.”

“Doesn’t mean he has either.”

In another part of the ship Drift sees a strange message appear on his hud and he opens it to find fanfiction that is very thinly disguised Thunderclash and Rodimus slash fic. As he reads it he has to take several breaks to laugh for a good minute and when he reaches the scene with the cave he chokes on air which causes Ratchet to find him in the middle of a coughing fit.

“Drift, are you alright?” Ratchet comes over, concern written on his face.

Drift nods and when his coughing finally dies down he says, “Yeah, just got to point in this story that really caught me off guard.”

“What story?” Ratchet looks at the datapad Drift is holding.

“It looks like someone has written a piece with our captain and Thunderclash having an adventure together,” Drift turns the datapad so Ratchet can see it better.

“Who would want to read something like that?” Ratchet looks over the story some more, “Rodimus doesn’t even like the guy.”

“I don’t know,” Drift shakes his helm, “but whoever wrote this is one kinky bastard.”

First Aid rests his helm against a desk, slumped over in a chair thinking about how he can handle this situation. His break down of it essentially comes down to Thunderclash not knowing he’s the author, the story is obviously about him and Rodimus but it can’t be immediately traced back to Thunderclash, and so long as Rodimus remains oblivious things shouldn’t get out of hand.

“First Aid,” Perceptor leans against the desk he’s sulking on, “I take it that it would be an issue for Rodimus to find out and not Thunderclash is because Thunderclash is your commissioner.”

“Yup.”

“I would have never suspected him having feelings for Rodimus if it weren’t for this slip up. However, with this realization and further reflection I can recall several occasions that are now painfully obvious as acts of endearment on Thunderclash’s part.”

“Right? If you have the time you should actually read the story. All his little requests and the details he leans on make it all the more obvious just how hopeless he is,” First Aid leans back to stare blankly at the ceiling.

“Then perhaps this is a blessing in disguise,” Perceptor puts his chin in his hand and First Aid looks at him as though he installed a second head, “I know that sounds a little ridiculous but think about it. Thunderclash clearly wants to express his feelings to Rodimus but Rodimus has put up not-so-subtle barriers that prevent that from happening. If manipulated in the right way it could ease the situation and make it possible for Thunderclash to overcome those barriers and/or encourage Rodimus to tear them down all together.”

“You want me to hook up Thunderclash and Rodimus with smutty fanfiction.”

“Don’t you?” Perceptor leaves First Aid alone to contemplate that after stating that he feels the need to have that conversation with Brainstorm sooner rather than later.

First Aid winds up going back to the medbay to an annoyed Ratchet and inquisitive Ambulon who are both very interested in what he was up to. He waves them off claiming he’s had a very long morning and will tell them about it later. Ratchet huffs, clearly agitated but lets it drop, however, Ambulon doesn’t let go so easily and is only satisfied when First Aid pulls him aside to explain it had been too late by the time he and Perceptor got to assessing the damage.

“The entire crew has read it?!” Ambulon stumbles a bit in his surprise and nearly drops his tools.

“Most of the crew has read it,” First Aid clarifies, exasperated, “Rodimus, thankfully isn’t really in the habit of checking his messages.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“I am very grateful for it. Can you imagine what he’d do if he found out?”

“When he finds out.”

“Right… yeah…”

They continue working like they aren’t waiting for the inevitable shitstorm that’s brewing on the horizon. First AId rests in a state of emotional lapse now having his panic forcibly ripped from him in the wake of Thunderclash’s response and Perceptor’s view on the matter at hand. He mulls in the space between screaming endlessly into the void and the vast hollowness that can only come from making a mistake as bad as the sheer hell that First Aid has unleashed. Humming along to the panicked rhythm that begins to rise within him almost has Ratchet coming over to ask him if he’s alright.  Through his new bout of nerves the start of a plan forms which eases some of his distress and what Perceptor said inspires him to take advantage of this disaster. He could get Rodimus to at least acknowledge his unfair distaste for Thunderclash, maybe even convince him it is unfair. Then a devious thought crosses his mind that brings him out of his self-sentenced personal hell by realizing how much chaos he could actually cause. Forget pride and reputation for that has been all but lost, while he has a stylus in his hand he can write the world into a frenzy and make all good-hearted souls wheep. He will bring about a reckoning that will lead the crew into madness and he will delight in the absurdity of it all instead of letting it sweep him away. This is probably not what Perceptor had in mind but any semblance of a calm and rational take on this has already been thrown out of the airlock. He has the power, he shall see that big goofball get his mech even if it gets him kicked off this ship.

“Aid?” Ambulon turns to him, a sudden thought striking him, “Did Megatron read it?”

“...slag.”

Megatron had just gone through his normal morning routine when the surprise message popped up, the contents of which surprised and appalled him. Anyone willing to go into that much detail on Rodimus’s spike or “Radius’s”rather is a depraved individual the likes of which he has only known during the war among certain circles of the Decepticons. He had powered through mostly due to immense boredom and sheer morbid curiosity. The reasoning for sending it to the entire crew puzzled him for if it was meant to be a prank it wasn’t very well executed for anyone who knew Rodimus for even a day would know he doesn’t check his messages. So, that means it had to have been a mistake and this thing about a “commission” detailed at the beginning would mean that not only was it a mistake but a very severe one. Megatron finds himself pitying whoever the writer was. In his opinion the story is solid if a little off in the dialogue and the plot is engaging making it one of the better things he’s read on this ship in the past few years. He just can’t fathom why anyone would want such a story enough to pay for it unless…

“Oh dear.”

“What is it?” Ultra Magnus who had been going over the daily reports turns to Megatron.

“I think that Thunderclash might be enamored with our captain,” Megatron muses.

“What? What makes you say that?” Ultra Magnus lowers his his servos from his work putting his full attention on Megatron.

“Have you received that strange message with a story attached to it? I think it was probably commissioned by Thunderclash.”

“It… that would make sense,” Ultra Magnus looks off in thought, “That poor mech.”

“Indeed.”

It doesn’t take too long for the entire ship to become all abuzz with the fanfiction which means everyone in Swerve’s is talking about it. Tailgate is chatting excitedly with Swerve and Rewind who nod along to his rapid-fire analysis of the story. Nautica seems to be just as enthused by the epic of Lightningclash and Radius while also having recruited Brainstorm to hold Nightbeat back from telling Rodimus what’s going on and explaining the entire mishap. First Aid is pretty sure he also knows that he wrote it but has been kind enough not to tell anyone. It also seems as though everyone has silently agreed not to tell Thunderclash that they know the story is about him and those few that suspect him as the mysterious commissioner have neglected to say anything as well. First Aid couldn’t have dreamed of a better reaction than this. He mentally gives himself a pat on the back as he looks around the bar and Ambulon rolls his optics, undoubtedly noticing his fellow medibot’s smugness. First Aid ignores him in favor of watching a happy Thunderclash excitedly going over a particularly dramatic scene where Lightningclash is being tended to by a distraught Radius with a particularly patient Perceptor who looks equally endeared and distressed.

“This line here ‘With Thunderclash’s helm in his servos and those dimly glowing red optics looking softly and lovingly up at him, Radius knew that no one else would go further or fight harder for him than his Lightningclash.’ Don’t you think that it just so wonderfully expresses the building undefined something between Lightningclash and Radius?” Thunderclash reads from a datapad and emits a dreamy sigh.

Perceptor takes a moment to steady himself before calmly turning to Thunderclash, “It is a solidly written line that clearly portrays Radius’s revelation. I think it’s the definite turning point in their relationship.”

First Aid stifles maniacal laughter as he watches Perceptor flub through a very detailed in-depth reading of the story and swears he can see Perceptor’s life force slowly leave his body. Ambulon gives him a look that lets him know that he’s enjoying this far too much but he can’t find it within himself to care. He’s sure that sooner rather than later he’ll have to face the consequences for his actions so he’s deciding to enjoy what he can while he can. The clincher to his ever-elevating mood is a little ping that notifies him of a very enthusiastic message from Thorguy A.K.A Thunderclash A.K.A Lightningclash. He excuses himself and heads back to his habsuite because, right now, he has a story to write and this time he has explicit permission to share it with the crew so all the better really.

Okay, so, Ratchet knows now but that’s something that’s been coming for a while now because of the glimpses he’s caught on Aid’s infamous purple datapad. First Aid thinks he takes it rather well seeing as how he faces minimum yelling but, unfortunately, Ratchet does wind up outing him to the others. This only succeeds in causing a hoard of the unexpected fans to pester him about the next story and for Thunderclash to confess that he had been the one to commission the first two stories. The lack of surprise from his peers is palpable making him retreat to a table in Perceptor’s lab to contemplate his apparent lack of subtlety. First Aid notes how Ratchet isn’t disappointed by the lack of backlash and notes how he didn’t include Rodimus in this suedo-intervention, not to mention the yelling devolved into critique of his latest story, the sequel to the first one everyone’s started calling “Cave Escapades.” This exposure has brought on a new problem, though. Everyone seems to have gotten very invested in the story of Lightningclash and Radius so they’ve all really started to get on his case about the update. First Aid had hoped to make this a more gradual thing but that clearly wasn’t going to happen now. Poor Thunderclash is too mortified to ask and pay for a third story which is Aid’s only defense in the face of his crew’s inquiries so, Nautica, Nightbeat, surprisingly Whirl, and a few others all pitch in for the next one.

Ambulon is rather unsympathetic when he retells what happened and all but straight up tells him he deserves the sudden pressure.First Aid stares at a blank datapad for a solid three hours before eventually giving up and heading to Swerve’s in hopes that giving his mind a break will clear his sudden and severe writer’s block. In his latest story, Lightningclash and Radius managed to get back in contact with their ship allowing them to reunite with their crew to then go to the next galaxy over to a good planet for refueling and resupplying. They were also checking a lead that might help them find the missing ally ship that had gone dark just months ago. Now he just didn’t know where to take the story. Lightningclash’s and Radius’s interactions had all been filled with the new question “what are we?” creating a lot of tension between them that is just fit to burst but how should it be done? First Aid just doesn’t know what he should do. Thankfully, before he can get too deep into his funk a very happy Drift plops down in the booth right across from him pulling him away from his thoughts.

“So, you’re the one that wrote the best thing I’ve read in the past thousand years,” Drift chuckles as he doctors his drink slowly.

“I’m glad you like it,” First Aid huffs, “It may be awhile before you get the next part though. I just can’t seem to get myself to write.”

“Well then,” Drift gives him a smirk that can only mean he has something mischievous in mind, “would you take a request then?”

First Aid mulls over it for a moment then remembering how many people are waiting for his story decides to throw caution to the wind yet again, “Sure, what do you have in mind?”

“Well, you know, I think it’s about time that rodimus found out about these stories. So, I was thinking that it would be great that if when he reads them he got to a point where Rodimus reveals that he’s the next in line to declare the Primacy. I mean you haven’t built up a lot of lore for your stories but it’s clear it isn’t the same as our culture exactly. So, my idea is because he has to take on the Primacy he has all these responsibilities including not being able to take on anyone as his conjunx without like a ton of pomp and circumstance.”

“You mean like a really over-the-top mushy scene where Radius essentially goes ‘I love you Lightningclash but we can’t be together because I’m meant to take on the Primacy’ in the most sappy way possible,” First Aid mimics his parody Rodimus and begins to feel like he could work with this.

“Yes, that and Lightningclash as the respectable bot he is goes ‘I understand, Radius, your responsibilities come first but, I beg of you, let me be by your side always.’ just hamming it up all the way.”

“This,” First Aid leans against his interwoven servos with a wicked glint in his optics, “could work very well.”

When the message pings in Drift quickly gets up from meditating and rushes to Rodimus’s habsuite, datapad in hand looking all the world like the cybercat that got the energon. Rodimus is still in recharge after the indulgent night he had at Swerve’s and isn’t very happy when Drift roughly wakes him up to show him the datapad. Rodimus blinks slowly a few times at the datapad, not really seeing what’s on it.

“Drift, I know you’re trying to show me something but my processor hasn’t caught up with my body yet,” Rodimus lets out a yawn, “wanna just tell me what’s so important?”

“Somebody wrote a story about you!” Drift exclaims all to pleased with the situation.

Rodimus wakes up much more at that and begins to read over the stories while Drift watches in delighted anticipation. The faces the captain makes are extremely varied and rapid in their transitions. Drift bursts out laughing at a particularly disgusted expression Rodimus makes when he probably reaches the cave scene that he admirably pushes through to read the rest of it. Then he gets to the third chapter and groans once he gets to the big confession.

“What the hell is this?” Rodimus asks, his words muffled by the servos covering his face.

“It’s clearly other you with other Thunderclash having the time of your lives,” Drift teases and Rodimus gives him a look.

“This is the worst thing I’ve read, ever,” Rodimus grumbles, “You really woke me up for this? It’s not even worth the data storage.”

“Well I think it’s fun,” Drift says earning another look of disgust from his amica.

“This can’t continue like this.”

“Well what do you want to do about it then?”

“I don’t know!” Rodimus throws his servos in the air exasperated, “I wish this story just didn’t exist! That would be much better.”

“If you’re really so upset with it, why not just change it?” Drift offers calming Rodimus down somewhat.

“What do you mean?”

“This story was commissioned right? Well what if you commissioned this author to write the story how you want it to go?”

“It’s not worth the shanix,” Rodimus waves off the idea easily and slides off his berth to get ready for the day.

“I’ll pay for it then,” Drift shrugs when Rodimus shoots him a surprised look, “I think it would be fun.”

“How many people have read this again?”

The result is almost instant when First Aid sends off the next part of what is slowly becoming a series. Messages filter back with praise and statements of varying degrees of incredulousness. Now, as much as he’s enjoying all of this, he would have backed off had Thunderclash asked him to and even hesitated somewhat but the short message from the bot that started it all clears away his worry. Thunderclash sent him a very short but clear show of approval of his latest and most melodramatic installment. Ambulon groans once he gets to the big confession as Ratchet bends over steadying himself on a medical berth, immobilized by laughter. Seeing as how not much more work was going to get done he decides to go see how everyone is reacting to the story in person. He’s rewarded with a Nautica who’s absolutely glued to her datapad, an attentive Perceptor who gives a few good suggestions, and Tailgate along with Rewind listening to Chromedome give an excellent dramatic reading that Rewind is undoubtedly recording. The icing on the cake is when he stumbles on to the bridge to find a distraught Rodimus.

“Who the hell wrote this?!” Rodimus gestures widely to the datapad in his servo as though it just insulted him.

“I don’t know, Rodimus,” Megatron sighs, “but clearly it’s just in good fun. They don’t seem like they mean to slander you.”

“What do you mean? It’s clearly slander! They’ve paired me up with Thunderclash!” Rodimus shouts, fuming at the lack of sympathy.

“An excellent member of Autobot society,” Ultra Magnus adds helpfully without looking up from his work.

“They make me the damsel in distress!”

“Sometimes they make Thunderclash the damsel,” Megatron points out making Rodimus scoff.

“They make us frag in a cave!”

“I admit that might have been a bit much but they do an excellent job of portraying proper consent and communication between partners,” Ultra Magnus concedes.

Rodimus growls in frustration before storming off of the bridge undoubtedly to take it out on First Aid if unknowingly so. Sure enough, a little while later a message appears on his hud to his not-so-anonymous-anymore account from Rodimus describing just how much he hates the story. However, Aid is surprised to find that Rodimus, instead of demanding an end to the series, is paying for his own continuation of the story “to set the record straight” and First Aid obliges him. Of course, he doesn’t it’ll have the effect Rodimus desires but that’s mostly just because he knows he’s gonna spin it in another direction. Ah, the beauty of interpretation. Rodimus want him to write a continuation where Lightningclash messes up terribly so that Radius becomes enraged with him, so much so that he stops talking to Lightningclash with no hint of possibly letting up. First Aid decides he’ll humor Rodimus for now and leave Lightningclash and Radius’s issue unsolved at the end which just so happens to create a cliffhanger. First Aid leans back in his chair and looks at his handy work, satisfied with it, and sends it off before heading off to his berth to recharge. His intention is to feed Rodimus’s need for there to be conflict between the two characters to then have said characters to resolve it in the next chapter which will undoubtedly frustrate his captain but maybe also give him a hint. Besides, how was Lightningclash supposed to know that one of the reasons Radius left Cybertron to explore the stars was to escape the heavy weight of responsibility that the Primacy put on him? With a sigh and aching servos, First Aid drifts into recharge.

When First Aid heads to the medbay he can’t help but feel as though something’s off. He doesn’t have too much time to ponder it since Ambulon all but drags him into the medbay and locks the door behind them. Okay, that wasn’t a good sign. Ratchet’s giving him a look that tells him he’s definitely messed up.

“What did you do?!” Ambulon hisses regaining Aid’s attention.

“What? I don’t know. What’s happened?” First Aid is definitely starting to panic now.

“Your fans are in an uproar over the latest chapter of that terrible fanfiction of yours,” Ratchet informs him busying himself with prepping the medbay as though he was expecting a lot of injured bots to come flooding in at any moment.

“What? How bad?”

“Bad enough that Whirl started a bar fight with Cyclonus of all people over whether or not Lightningclash and Radius are going to ever get together. They’ve both been put into the brig and thankfully didn’t injure each other too badly but this is getting ridiculous.”

“I’ll say,” First Aid nods weakly, “That old romantic really let it get away from him. I bet he was defending Lightningclash’s and Radius’s durability all the way.”

“Yes, it’s all very sweet,” Ratchet gralfs, “What you need to do now is sit down and write so we can fix this mess before it gets any worse. I’ll even pay for it if I have to.”

“That won’t be necessary. This one’s on the house,” First Aid snags a datapad and begins writing like faster than he ever has before.

Apparently the impending doom via complete crew meltdown is a very good motivator seeing as he’s able to pump out a complete chapter in a record time of three hours. First Aid collapses on a berth completely drained from the frantic writing and hopes that it will clear everything up. Within those three hours, Nautica and Perceptor (for some reason) were brought in beaten up and ragged. Ratchet is still patching up the last of Perceptor’s abrasions when First Aid sends out the chapter making both patients leap for their datapads. Blissful calm settles over the medbay as the mechs devour the the story. Watching Ratchet read the story just as avidly as the rest of them, First Aid feels a little cheated for being guilted into making the latest chapter for free but he’ll get that old bastard back for it. He might even add in a weary old medic called “Hatchet” that’s hopelessly helm over pedes for a certain swordsmech called… He’ll think of a good name later.

“Yes!” Nautica cries out in glee and falls back on to the berth she’s taken residency on startling First Aid out of his half-awake state.

“I’m guessing that means you find the latest chapter acceptable?” First Aid says while still lying down.

“Very! Oh, just how Lightningclash takes Radius into his arms and pushes away any doubts that he sees him as a capable and beautiful mech. Radius struggling with himself as to whether to give in and abandon his responsibilities or remain the next prime but the Lightningclash insists he should be true to himself and not abandon his destiny! It’s perfect!”

“I quite agree,” Perceptor gives him a weary but emphatic nod.

“Good maybe this’ll settle things.”

“Don’t bet on it,” Ratchet scoffs, “You’ve just given them all another taste and still no resolution. At this rate you’ll be at this for a while.”

“That’s true,” Ambulon puts a servo on First Aid’s shoulder, “If you want this to end you have to conclude the story.”

“I can’t just yet,” First Aid puts a servo over Ambulon’s, “This is supposed to mediate Thunderclash’s inevitable confession to Rodimus.”

“That’s what all of this is about?!” Ratchet gapes at his downed colleague.

“I think that’s wonderful! Do you need any help?” Nautica leaps up energy fully restored.

“Perceptor, tell me you at least don’t approve of this,” Ratchet turns to the person that has become his only hope.

“Do you really want First Aid to stop?” Perceptor retorts making Ratchet fumble searching for the right words to defend himself but comes up empty.

First Aid turns to Nautica, “You know, a co-writer would actually help a lot. I don’t think I can write as fast as I need to on my own.”

“This is going to be great!” Nautica hops up and bounces with excitement.

Rodimus is fuming on the bridge now, very upset that his piece of the story had been subverted by the next chapter and has made his displeasure very well known to everyone in earshot. Thunderclash looks at him sadly, guilt weighing heavily in his spark as he looks at the damage his personal indulgence has caused. If the story has managed to do anything so far, it’s made Rodimus dislike him even more even without knowing he’s the one that commissioned the story. He makes a decision then and there that he’s going to do something to fix this mess that he’s made and hopefully get Rodimus to dislike him less.

Later on after workshopping the rest of the story, Nautica and First Aid decide having the outline all flushed out at least deserves a drink. First Aid is greeted at Swerve’s with praise and distress at how he almost severed such a beautiful, blossoming relationship. It’s clear now more than ever that he’s in it for the long haul. At the very least it seems this has alleviated some of the prevalent boredom that had been plaguing the ship. For a moment First Aid worries about what’s to come after all of this. This is, in all honesty, fun. Everyone is following the story with an intensity he didn’t know they possessed and that feeling is is so addictive that he almost  doesn’t want it to end but he knows it has to. A blatant reminder of it all needing to come to a close is Thunderclash looking very sullen heading his way. He can feel Nautica tense up beside him when she spots their source material. First Aid tries and fails to steady himself knowing he can’t avoid this interaction while fearing what is to come of it. The large bot settles carefully in the seat across from them and folds his servos on the table. Nobody moves. Nobody speaks.

“Hey Thunderclash!” Swerve breaks the tension, “Can I get you anything?”

“Uh, just mid-grade please,” whatever cool Thunderclash had is broken and the nervousness he’d been concealing earlier breaks through.

“You got it!”

After Swerve leaves to get Thunderclash’s drink he can’t seem to meet First Aid’s or Nautica’s optics.

“What do you need, ‘Clash?” First Aid tries to ease the situation.

“I, uh,” Thunderclash clears his intake, “I’d to um… Okay, so, Rodimus is clearly unhappy about this story. He seemed especially unhappy when the next piece after that fiasco was released. He seemed happier when our parodies were fighting. I had no idea that he disliked me that much.”

First Aid feels his spark ache a little at that last statement knowing all too well what Rodimus might have had to say about it.

“So, what do you need me to do?”

“I feel that this may not be the last issue that he forces our other selves to face. I think -indirectly- Rodimus showed something he’s very self-conscious of. It’s likely he will do so again.”

“You mean you think Rodimus was projecting his insecurities of technically never being a true prime on to Radius and he might do more requests that reveal things like that,” Nautica jumps in excitedly.

“Uh, that’s a bit harsher than I would put it but yes.”

“So,” First Aid puts a hand on Nautica’s shoulder to get her to sit back down again, “What do you want to do about that?”

“I’d like all of Lightningclash’s words to be my own from now on. I want to reassure Rodimus myself.”

First Aid’s spark grows warm at that. He just cannot handle how in love this poor mech is with “flaming ego,” Rodimus Prime out of everyone he could have given his spark to. Boy, if that didn’t just make him want to redouble his efforts.

“Radius!” the faint murmurs of conversation suddenly die down as Riptide shouts out in the middle of the bar while clasping Drift’s servo with a datapad in his other servo, “Please don’t misunderstand my formality as being a joke or in spite. I could never see you as anything other than a mech that deserves the world, the universe!”

“Just because you know I’m supposed to be prime now doesn’t mean you should treat me like some bauble on display,” Drift gives his best Rodimus impression but First Aid silently admits that his word choice probably wasn’t the most Rodimus-like, “I’m still Radius! I’m still the bot you called a friend! I’m still the bot that got overcharged and lost his credits to you on Hedonia! I’m still me!”

“I know you are!”

“Then why are you putting up this air of formality? Why are you treating me like a thing and not a person?”

“I can’t be with you, Radius,” Riptide recites in a hushed voice that has the audience of their impromptu performance gasping, “No matter how much I long to be with you, your position is too high for me to reach. I must steel my spark in the face of it. I must respect our traditions but I wish to remain useful to you. In order to do so I’ve had to put a barrier between myself and you. I am sorry. Please, don’t push me away.”

Drift A.K.A “Radius” looks down at Riptide A.K.A “Lightningclash” with a surprisingly convincing sad look in his optics.

“Then be my friend, Lightningclash,” “Radius” says, “because my spark won’t survive losing you.”

With the close, Riptide and Drift bow to the roaring crowd among which is even an amused Megatron. Rodimus sits in stunned silence as Drift wanders back to their booth where Ratchet is also dying of laughter. Rodimus looks at his amica in complete and utter betrayal but doesn’t even manage to dent Drift’s smugness. Out of everything First Aid had thought would come of his writing, miniature theater was not one of them. Across from him, Thunderclash looks over at Rodimus with longing, love, and hurt shining in perfect crimson. A message pings on First Aid’s hud and he knows he has work to do.

“I can’t believe you actually did that!” Rodimus shouts as he walks down the hall with Drift and Ratchet who are both laughing at his distress.

“What? Of course I did,” Drift nudges him gently, “I knew your reaction would be priceless.”

“I think he did a terrific job imitating you,” Ratchet adds making Rodimus scoff.

“See,” Drift loops his arm with Ratchet’s, “It’s all in good fun.”

“For everyone except me,” Rodimus grumbles.

“Details,” Ratchet shrugs.

“Well hopefully this time what I do will stick.”

“Hopefully,” Drift says wistfully obvious in his insincerity.

Nautica turns out to be First Aid’s saving grace as they continue writing the Epic of Lightningclash and Radius. They take turns typing what the other one says making the process much faster and before the day is out they have a chapter ready for editing. Thunderclash sits in and helps with word choice but for the most part just politely listens in quietly. First Aid is grateful to have him there as well because he really does help with dialogue, even making Radius sound more, well, Rodimus-y. God, this mech. The way he talks about Rodimus’s little quirks and the phrases he likes to use alone almost makes First Aid feel like he’s the one falling in love with Rodimus.

“You know, I always forget about his tendency to use Earth slang,” First Aid admits after sending off the chapter to Perceptor who had volunteered to edit the thing.

“His love for Earth and its people is incredibly endearing,” Thunderclash admits and looks into the distance, a sweet smile plastered on his face, “I’d never seen him so devoted to studying a culture before. He really has become a kind of expert on it.”

“How long have you had your eye on Rodimus?” Nautica bumps her elbow gently against Thunderclash.

“I-uh,” Thunderclash stutters and looks away, flustered.

“Don’t worry,” First Aid puts a servo on Thunderclash’s, “we’ll get him for you.”

Thunderclash smiles brightly but it quickly dims with sadness, “At this point, my hope is that I can at least salvage whatever happened for him to… detest me.”

“That’s not your fault!” Nautica slams her servos on the table startling both of them, “That’s just Rodimus being a jerk.”

“I don’t think that’s necessarily true, Nautica,” Thunderclash puts up a consoling servo.

“I’m starting to think you’re right, Thunderclash. Something else is going on with him. Something he hasn’t let anyone see before,” First Aid hums and puts his helm in his servo contemplating their latest piece.

This new figure that Rodimus himself introduced into the story has been especially telling. This figure that can be none other than Optimus Prime’s doppelganger. So, Pinnamus Prime (so subtle) comes aboard the ship and pretty much takes control of everything to which the crew complies with completely because who would argue with a Prime? Lightningclash makes the mistake of agreeing with some of the current Prime’s criticisms causing tension to build yet again. When the pressure comes to a head, Radius gives a very deep confession that are the actual words of Rodimus. First Aid thinks that Rodimus didn’t realize how intense his offered bit of dialogue is, a confession of all the faults and missteps he knows are there that he feels are all people see when they look at him. He also talks about the sacrifices he’s made and the good he’s done but Pinnamus (Optimus) is just a walking reminder of what he’ll never be, Lightningclash (Thunderclash) is an example of what he could have become. It all struck First Aid a bit hard, making him realize that, perhaps, they have been a bit harsh on their captain. While childish at times and certainly impulsive, he cares about his crew and he is working on being better. Looking back on all they’ve been through, First Aid has to admit that Rodimus has actually been a rather good captain making quick decisions and being as fair as he can be. He hasn’t been a captain that would fit in during wartime but they’re not at war anymore. Oh, Primus, Rodimus had given up just as much as everyone else and then some to keep people safe, to keep the Autobots from falling. The fact that he can still smile, have fun, and then remind people they can still smile, that they still have hope is absolutely remarkable. Thunderclash is definitely starting to get to him.

The open ending they leave goes over about as well as First Aid expected which is to say not very well at all. They couldn’t think of any other way they could have done it. Thunderclash responded to Rodimus’s confession in his own words through Lightningclash then the chapter ends with him waiting for his response. The cliffhanger has everyone theorizing and arguing how it’s all going to end, the anticipation thick in the air. First Aid wades through the chaos dodging questions or giving ambiguous answers until he literally bumps into Rodimus. Before he can get too deep into his flurry of apologies a datapad is shoved into his servos. When he looks up at Rodimus he’s stunned to see his captain so serious, not angry, just serious. Without a single word, Rodimus leaves. After a moment of ogling the empty space Rodimus left behind, First Aid looks down at the proffered datapad and what he sees makes his optics flash in excitement. This would be the perfect end.

“I think this has gone on long enough,” Megatron says startling Drift who had been sharpening his swords.

“I’m sorry?”

“This entire back and forth with Rodimus and Thunderclash,” Megatron clarifies, “It needs to end.”

“I suppose we can’t tolerate too many more bar fights over something so trivial,” Drift concedes, “What do you have in mind.”

“I think Rodimus and Thunderclash need to confront each other on this matter.”

Drift looks up at ex-warlord skeptically and returns to sharpening his swords for a minute considering if what Megatron is suggesting is really a good idea. After dithering on it he turns back to the larger mech.

“Confront how?”

“I was quite inspired by your little performance the other day,” Megatron can’t hide his amusement when Drift coughs awkwardly, “I think they should read it together.”

“Oh yeah? How do you expect to get them to do that?” Drift raises an eye ridge.

“Everyone knows First Aid is the one that’s been writing this story and from what I can tell he seems quite eager to see this through. I’m sure I could convince him to help out.”

“Okay, what does that have to do with me?” Drift leans back looking up at Megatron.

“Your his amica, he spends time with you normally,” Megatron gestures nonchalantly, “Just make it so he’s in Swerve’s tomorrow evening.”

Drift looks him over for a moment but seemingly having made a decision just gives him a nod and goes back to his swords. Satisfied by this, Megatron leaves him be.

A very confused Thunderclash speeds along as he’s dragged down the hall to greet an equally baffled Nautica who gets the datapad First Aid had been given shoved into her servos. He then deposits Thunderclash into a chair, actually lifting the mech and seating him, surprising the poor mech with his hidden strength before sitting down to start writing. Nautica scans the datapad in record time and joins First Aid, newly invigorated. Thunderclash looks on with concern as they whisper over their datapad.

“Is everything alright?” Thunderclash breaks through the ominus haze.

First Aid and Nautica look back at him, smiling with  wicked glints in theri optics.

“Perfect,” Nautica answers, her voice heavy with incredible, almost sadistic joy.

“How would you respond to something like, ‘Do I matter to you?’ from Rodimus?” First Aid asks, avoiding Thunderclash’s question.

“I’d tell him he means everything to me,” Thunderclash answers bashfully, “that…  I’ll always be here for him.”

“Excellent, thank you,” with that First Aid goes back to writing with Nautica.

They continue like that for the remainder of the day, only asking Thunderclash seemingly random questions while not letting him read anything they’re writing. The pattern is eventually broken when the door panel slides open to reveal Megatron. For a moment they all just openly stare at each other until Megatron let’s himself in.

“I have a request,” Megatron breaks the silence and Nautica unabashedly gapes at him.

“Yeah?” First Aid’s voice breaks a little as he addresses the ex-warlord.

“This time when you release the story, only release it to Rodimus and Thunderclash at first,” Megatron says and sits down.

“Why?” Nautica crosses her arms, skeptical of Megatron’s plan.

“I think another reading of your story in Swerve’s is just what the crew needs,” Megatron says offhandedly, “except this time I think it should be done by your muses.”

“What?!” Thunderclash leaps up, “No, I can’t… Rodimus would surely… How would you even convince him to do that?”

“I don’t need to,” Megatron shrugs, “Drift will have him there tomorrow in the afternoon. The rest would have to be up to you.”

“Still-”

“I like that idea,” First Aid interrupts Thunderclash before he can go on a tirade.

“So do I,” Nautica smirks and pats Thunderclash on the shoulder, “It’s okay. You’re going to be great.”

Thunderclash looks helplessly around at the bots that seem very menacing now that plans for his grand performance were made.

Time flashes by and before he knew it, Thunderclash is being dragged once again by First Aid into Swerve’s where Rodimus sits drinking with Drift looking rather glum. Thunderclash’s spark aches as he sees his- as he sees Rodimus look so out of sorts because of him. In his moment of distraction he hadn’t First Aid bring him to the center of the bar and put a datpad in his servo. Looking back up from the datapad his tank drops as he sees Nautica quietly talking to Rodimus who nods at whatever she says to him and comes over to Thunderclash, arms crossed and body tensed while not meeting Thunderclash’s optics. Thunderclash’s intake goes dry and he can’t seem to just say something, anything. Then First Aid swoops in and gives Rodimus a datapad that he takes and scowls at it after reading the first few lines.

“Really?” Rodimus sighs, “This is what we’re doing?”

“So it would seem,” Thunderclash nods weakly.

“Might as well get this over with,” Rodimus rolls his optics, “I know Drift won’t let me back down from this.”

“You really don’t have to-”

“Save it,” Rodimus bites out, then turns his attention to the datapad, “Lightningclash, I don’t believe you, I can’t believe you. What you’re saying… I don’t believe you.”

Thunderclash looks down for his lines and with more feeling than Rodimus’s deadpan recites, “How can I show you that I’m telling the truth? That I mean every word I say.”

“Nothing.”

“Why? Why are you so determined to believe that no one thinks you’re worthy? You’re going to make an excellent prime. You’re already a wonderful captain.”

“You keep saying that but you know it isn’t true!”

“It is true, all of it.”

“Then why does everyone else think I’m a failure? Why did Pinnamus Prime take command? Why did he shove his greatest enemy on me to watch like some glorified patrol officer? And I can’t even do that right! I made friends with him, hey, maybe even proved he’s not completely evil! That was a surprise for me too.”

“Prime sees too much of himself in you. So much so that he forgets that you are your own person and not a perfect reflection. Whatever he perceives as failure in you is nothing more than him projecting his own fears on you. I think he feels as though he has failed as a prime and doesn’t want you to be the same.”

Rodimus hesitates for a long moment, the quiet palpable as all the attendees looks on in awe at their performance.

“Even if that was true,” Rodimus takes a deep intake, “I’m still not as good as you.”

Thunderclash looks at Rodimus, his spark aching, wanting nothing more than to take him into his arms and push the rest of the universe away, the universe that let Rodimus believe this about himself.

“No,” Thunderclash decides to ditch the script, “You’re better. I could never do what you’ve done here on the Lost Light. You’ve given people that didn’t quite fit a home, a place where they can be themselves. I was able to lead people in the war, I’m a good soldier, a law-abiding citizen. When the war was over, that was it. I didn’t know what to do so I just did whatever came my way. I didn’t fit anymore. You know exactly what to do. Your amica found you a ship, you found the next big adventure. Along the way you’ve done so much good, helped so many people and shown them they don’t have to be soldiers anymore. That’s why I’m here, because of you. On this ship, piece by piece, I’ve been able to figure out who I am again.”

“You… really mean that,” Rodimus looks up at Thunderclash with wide optics.

“Of course I do, I love you,” Thunderclash drop the datapad and takes Rodimus’s servos in his own the other datapad having been already forgotten during Thunderclash’s speech, “I’ll follow you so long as you’ll lead me. I’ll go anywhere so long as you’ll have me. I’ll do anything to show you I really mean it when I say ‘I love you.’ Please, at least believe me when I say I don’t think you’re a failure.”

Rodimus doesn’t say anything, he just looks up at Thundeclash in complete disbelief, unable to process what just happened. Just when Thunderclash thinks he’s messed everything up and begins to pull away, he’s suddenly pulled down. He exclaims in surprise then Rodimus is kissing him and nothing else matters. He holds Rodimus close and sighs at the feeling of soft lip plates against his own, feeling dizzy from his surprise and amazement. He didn’t think it would happen but here Rodimus is: kissing him with servos on his helm and humming with content. A rumble erupts from his engines suddenly and embarrassingly making him pull away to look down at Rodimus apologetically due to his involuntary show of excitement. Rodimus just laughs and Thunderclash finally registers the deafening cheers that surround them. First Aid is giving him a thumbs up and Nautica looks on with a dreamy look in her optics.

“Thunderclash,” Rodimus pulls his focus from the crowd, “same.”

Now it’s Thunderclash’s turn to laugh as he pulls Rodimus in for hug, his Rodimus, his captain, his love.

First Aid looks on as Rodimus whispers something to Thunderclash that makes his optics go wide before pulling him along out of Swerve’s followed by whoops and wolf whistles. He shakes his helm and laughs, pleased by how much better it all went down than he was hoping. Ambulon bumps into his side affectionately catching his attention.

“Shame your big finally wasn’t actually read,” Ambulon teases.

“That was way better than anything I could have written and it was from the spark so all the better,” First Aid shrugs and sips his drink that he finally got from Swerve.

“Seems like they aren’t wasting anymore time.”

“No,” First Aid laughs, “They certainly aren’t. I don’t think we’ll see our captain anytime soon.”

Ambulon turns First Aid’s helm to look at him and leans up to press a chaste kiss to his lip plates before moving away only slightly.

“You know,” Ambulon says quietly, “I think you deserve a reward for getting those two idiots together.”

“Oh yeah?” First Aid plays along, “And what do you have in mind for my reward?”

“That new berth you bought for me still hasn’t been properly broken-in yet,” Ambulon says in a low tone and rubs a thumb along First Aid’s faceplate.

“We better take care of that,” First Aid leans in for another kiss.

“We better,” Ambulon agrees once they break apart.

[arcticfoxbear]

An impossible task, to find a single speck of life, one lone spark, in the immeasurable galaxy. He had a stolen ship, a set of weapons bequeathed him by questionable benefactors, and a very particular set of skills. None of his usual allies were available to him. Who was?

A broken femme haunted by musty ghosts

A broken mech looking for a purpose

A broken spark looking for someone to love

Separately they were the refuse of a war and the flotsam of a new age, shattered fragments of systems that no longer existed. Together they might be a source of joy to a dreary world, a team, a family. That is if he can get over the small fact that he hates them all.

So awhile ago my brain asked what would happen if Leverage was set on Post War Cybertron TF:P. This is the result. It isn’t exactly Leverage, isn’t exactly transformers, but it seems like it might be fun. Here is a sneak preview. 

The Agency

The simple, steel grey buildings on this side of New Kaon didn’t quite trust the newly reengineered power grid, much like the mechs who inhabited it. A midsized, grey mech nervously ran an optic over the set of doors before him. Unlike normal doors that lifted or slid to the side or irised open when you approached them, these doors were balanced on pivots and you had to manually push them open. The squat, rectangular office was different from all the others except in these manual doors, but none of the buildings followed any sort of code, unless it was their nondescript color, and the lack of conformity itself was camouflage enough in this place.

Open.

It was a single glyph carved crudely into the plaque attached to the door. It was the only mark on the outside of the structure. If you needed the services those inside offered you knew where to find them. If not…well they knew where to find you if the stories were true.

Oregrind fought down a shiver and traced his servos over the small statue in his hand. It was carved out of plastisteel, a fragment of building that had burned under phosphors bombs ages ago. The shape might have been a mech when it was first crafted but constant touching had worn it past recognition. Still Oregrind remembered. He remembered the original shape of the one he held, and he remember the one he prayed still existed in someone else’s hands, somewhere out there.

Squaring his shoulders Oregrind reached out and pushed open the swinging doors. He found himself in a nondescript waiting area lit by softly glowing blue energon lamps on the walls. A jet black mech with bronze outlines was slouched in a chair against the wall. He paid Oregrind no notice, intent on picking some sort of shrapnel out of his forearm armor. Oregrind felt oddly mixed relief and dread in his spark when he spotted the Decepticon shield on the strange mech’s pauldrons.

“Delta! For Primes’ sake! Do that in the back room. Not the reception area!”

The sudden, high pitched voice caught Oregrind by surprise and he whirled to face a small, pink femme who had appeared in a side door. A small, pink Autobot femme.

“Light’s better in here.” Delta (presumably) replied.

“You are getting energon all over the reception seats!”  the femme squealed, rushing towards Delta waving a clipboard threateningly. “I set up a first aid area specifically for the next time you got into trouble with something bigger than you-“

“Cool you thrusters Jumps, you don’t want to scare off the client.” Delta said with amiable disinterest in her fury and her clipboard alike.

Oregrind would have been perfectly content for the Autobot to not notice him. In fact he was currently sliding back towards the door, trying to get out. The femme snapped her head around and her pale turquoise optics widened in surprise and then a formal smile snapped into place on her faceplates.

“Oh! Do pardon me and my,” she cut her optics back to the Decepticon and they flashed with life and irritation for a moment before turning back on Oregrind with emotionless interest, “uncouth colleague. Please come right in,” she gestured to a second door that was labeled ‘office’. “As you can see we have no other clients at the moment.”

“That’s – that’s fine,” Oregrind stammered. “I’ll just leave.”

“Oh I assure you that we are the best at what we do.” The femme said with a sort of canned brightness in her tone as she took his arm and led him towards the door. “Delta Blade over there might look like he’s not good for much other than energon prospecting but he is really highly skilled. As for myself I am fluent is over forty-thousand types of code-“

“But that’s it, I,” Oregrind pulled his arm out of her grip with a bit more force than he intended and they staggered away from each other. Oregrind was uncomfortably aware that Delta Blade was now staring at him coolly, the blade he had been using to dig out the shrapnel now held still in his servos. “I thought this was a place for Decepticons,” Oregrind finished in a weak tone as he backed towards the door.

“This is a place for everyone,” the femme said, the artificial brightness growing in her voice and threatening to spill over.

Oregrind had reached the door and was backed up against it. He realized that he would have to pull the door open, putting himself closer to the advancing femme. The moment of tension was broken however by a loud bellow of pain. A massive orange Dinobot came barreling out of the same door the femme had appeared from. He was braying inarticulately but from the way he was holding up his foreleg there was clearly something lodged in his pedd. Instantly the femme was at the side of the charging Dinobot and kneeling by his pedd.

“Oh! Snarl sweetie. Show Jumpstart what is wrong. What hurts Snarl?”

Oregrind stared in mute fascination at the femme. The dinobot was a common sort, orange armor with two rows of dorsal plates for solar collection was supported by four sturdy legs and defended by a powerful tail. He stopped on a cred the moment the femme ordered him too and obediently held up the pedd for her to examine. A Decepticon shield adorned the Dinobot’s helm above his crimson optics. All of the artificial behavior was gone from the femme, replaced by genuine care and concern.

“This is a place for anyone with a problem and enough credits to pay us.”

Oregrind jumped nervously and gripped the door handle behind his back. He glanced over at Delta Blade who had risen and was standing beside him, calming watching the femme with crossed arms. Oregrind’s optics were drawn to the wounds still weeping energon on the other Decepticon’s armor.

“That’s not shrapnel,” Oregrind said in shock. “Those are driller teeth!”

Delta Blade cast him a derisive glance and strode over to where the femme was struggling to pull a fragment of metal out of the plates of the Dinobot’s pedd.

“Take care of our client,” Delta said curtly as he pulled the smaller femme into a standing position. “I’ll get Snarl fixed up. The boss’ll be back soon and he’ll want a summary.”

“Right, right,” the femme said. “He just stepped on a well scraper again.” She turned back to Oregrind and gave him a more genuine smile.

“Now, I take it you have a problem?”

Oregrind nodded uneasily and gripped the figurine in his servos. His faceplates twisted into a bitter smile.

“I can’t go to the Autobots in New Iacon,” he began.

“Of course you wouldn’t want to,” Jumpstart said, nodding her head in understanding.

And oddly enough Oregrind got the impression that the pretty little Autobot did understand.

“And, Pit if I will risk admitting this to other,” he glanced nervously where Delta Blade was bent over Snarl’s foot, “well, normal Decepticons.”

“So you came to us,” the femme said. “Word of vocalizer advertisement is how we get our clients. I take it someone recommended us to you?”

Oregrind nodded. “I need you to find someone.” He began, gripping the figurine so tightly his servos hurt.  “My friend. I need you to find my friend.”

“Well,” this time the femme’s smile seemed absolutely genuine. “That is what we do here. Please, come into my office.”

[taibu]

Scenario

Okay so, that episode Starscream tries to join the Autobots? What if he wasn’t such a clod and didn’t reveal that he killed Cliffjumper? What if he actually got in and started working for the Autobots?

Of course, at first, Starscream would only join Bots because he wanted to use them to get rid of Megatron and become the leader of the Cons, because of course he would. But then he would start to realize something, little by little. 

He notices that even though the base in dirty and food is scarce, he feels much more relaxed here than he ever was on Nemesis. There is none of that looming feeling of Megatron beating you senseless, drones disrespecting you, Knock Out and Breakdown laughing at you or Arachnid humiliating you. He is free to do and be whatever he wants to be, as long as he doesn’t piss off the Bots, and that actually seems harder than he first thought. Sure, at first they are all on their toes about Stars, but after few weeks, they treat him like he was part of their team.

Stars goes to missions with Bumblebee, and learns that it was Megatron who stole his voice, and feels sympathy over him, for he too has been hurt by Megatron in the past. He hangs out with Bulkhead and learns that he isn’t just a “dumb big guy” he always though he was, and that Bulk is actually one of the first to accept him and support him. He helps Ratchet out and goes back to his scientific roots before the was and when Ratchet learns that Star used to be a scientist, they start having long debates and conversations about different formulas and eventually Stars helps Ratch make the perfect formula for synthetic energon. Arcee is not as easy, but once Star cracks few jokes about Arachnid, she warms up to her. The two joke around and grow quite close. Eventually he is even let to meet the kids and grows to find them, annoying at first, but later quite entertaining. Miko gets him into music, Raf wants to learn about Cybetronian science, and Ratchet isn’t a very talkative person so Stars makes a great teacher, and Jack is a great listener and supporter, even when Stars in denying his sorrow and inner pain.

But it’s Optimus that finally seals the deal. The two are on a mission together, and Starscream screws up, majorly. It’s nothing deadly or too dangerous, but it still causes him to panic because Megatron has beaten him for less. He gets on his knees and begs for Optimus’ forgiveness, sure that the Prime will beat him otherwise. But instead, Optimus stares at him, confused and even shocked, when he realizes why Stars is acting like this. Instead of hurting Stars, he embraces him and tells him that he is not angry and that it wasn’t Starscream’s fault. Stars doesn’t believe what just happened. Optimus, a PRIME just forgave him for his mistakes, and... comforted him. Starscream starts to re-think his choices and plans for using the Bots. For the first time in centuries, he has found someone he can truly respect and want to call his leader. He has found people who care of him and love him despite their bad past together. He has found something he thought long lost... a family.

So now, he accepts the fact that he indeed is an Autobot now. He keeps his aerial-form, he loves flying too much to give it up, but gets another, third form for himself. A motorbike. A TWO-WHEELER. Everyone know’s his hate of land-vehicles and two-wheeler’s especially so this is a special moment for everyone. Starscream asks for Ratchet to replace his Decepticon-symbol with an Autobot-one. He starts to work full time on taking down Cons. He gets better weapons and learns new fighting techniques. Just so that he can be useful for the bots, just so that he can make Optimus proud. 

Under the sharp and cold Con the Bots find a fun-loving, strong, smart and even caring Cybetronian, who just wants his home back. He no longer cares about leadership, now that he has a leader he truly supports and cares about. And who also cares of him. 

One time on the battlefield, one drone refuses to attack Starscream. It’s Steve. He begs to join “Lord” Starscream and serve him again like he did before. Stars takes a look at Optimus (who smiles and nods) and then helps the drone to his feet. “Please, call me Screamy. All my friends do.” And Steve joins the Bots.

Wheeljack and Fowler are bit harder, seeing how Starscream did keep them prisoner and tortured them. But both see how he has changed and understand that war is a serious thing and people on different sides sometimes need to do horrible things for their own side’s benefits, and eventually forgive him.

And the Smokescreen happens. Oh dear, does Smokescreen happen. Starscream is so exited to have someone new to join he hasn’t met before. He is no longer the youngest bot! Smokescreen is all confused like “YOU’RE Starscream!? No! That can’t be! You’re supposed to be evil and shit????” but soon they before great friends. Starscream finds amusing how formal Smokes is especially around Optimus, for he knows that the Prime is a kind and caring soul and not a military officer. Ultra Magnus and Stars never truly get along, but they too learn to tolerate each other.

But then, something happens that changes his happiness back to pain. Because of course.

Arcee happens to make a joke about their and Cliffjumper’s past, and Stars remembered. He really did kill part of Team Prime. He had been PROUD of that fact before, but now... Arcee tells him how she felt about him and how she misses him every day, only making Stars feel more bad than before. Stars starts to isolate himself from the others. He can’t bear to look at them or be with them. He killed their friend after all. It was long time ago, but that didn’t make it any better. Stars is in pain and cries every night.

Eventually he comes out of his room, asks for everyone’s attention. He has to do this. He can’t keep it in. Everyone gathers around, worried of their friend. Stars looks at them. “I don’t deserve this” he thinks. The Bots are asking him what is wrong. Stars tells that he has to come clean, for he can no longer live with the guilt. With tears in his eyes and crack in his voice (more than usual) he says it...

“I killed Cliffjumper.”

There is a silence. No-one says anything. Starscream closes her optics and waits. He knows, he just KNOWS he will be killed for that. But he doesn’t care. He is ready. More ready than ever. He is willing to take the punishment. 

But it never comes. Arcee walks to him, the boys telling her, panicking, to “not do it”, thinking that she will hurt him. But she doesn’t. She takes Stars’ servos in her own and looks at him in the optics and asks...

“Did you kill him quickly?” 

Stars tells exactly what happened, what Cliff said to trigger him and cause him to do it. He tells that Cliff died rather quickly even if not painless. Arcee, instead of being angry, hugs Starscream, for everyone’s surprise. She thanks Stars for telling the truth and being honest with her. Now she can finally put Cliff to rest in her mind. Sure, she will always miss Cliff and wish he wasn’t dead, but she can’t hate the “new Starscream” for the “old” ones mistakes. 

Everyone joins in the hug and tell Stars that they forgive him. He was a con back then, his job was to kill bots! He wasn’t himself back then! He was pressured by Megatron! He was not a monster for killing in a war!

Starscream can only cry. Whether it’s tears of pain or happiness, only he knows.

The war is over. Megatron and Unicron are defeated. The well of Allsparks is working again. Kock Out has joined the Bots. 

Starscream helps with the rebuilding of Cybetron. He is more quiet than before. He hasn’t forgiven himself for his actions, and he just lost Optimus, the leader he was ready to die for. But he is still happy to be alive to see the war end and promises to protect his new home with all he has.

Then Bumblebee comes to him and asks if Stars would like to become the new leader of Voss.

Whether he says yes or no... well. I let everyone make their own conclusions.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Could you do ravage and chromedome/rewind for the young liaisons prompt? Cat dad and big gay dads need some kids :)

This is a popular one!

So let's have some CAT DAD and GAY DADS

Here on the Lost Light we have a veritable surplus of parental figures!

Here's the proof!

Tailgate, Ratchet, Minimus, Swerve, Whirl

Drift, Rodimus, Rung

Megatron, Cyclonus

Fortress Maximus

Fortress Maximus(Again), Brainstorm

Ravage

·For the sake of his sanity, he had some other bots make it clear to the incoming arrivals he was not a pet and would not be treated as such. His hopes weren't high, and he made a point to observe the gaggle of young humans before meeting them in person, something he accomplished by surveying their tour from his usual spot on the vents. They proved decent enough from afar; polite, not too loud, enthusiastic... typical behaviour for well raised youth of any species. Once he'd seen enough he decided to get his own introduction out of the way. Of course leaving out his short spying session, he entered the room they were in as if by chance, and was summarily kept under the watchful optics of their Autobot guides.

·Admittedly the first thing he noticed was how small they were. These humans are supposed to be young, but they are finished growing, right? He could pick up one of them with absolute ease! Their well mannered meeting only makes him more concerned, as these soft and naive little squishies are a prime target for a cruel universe, and if anything happens to them the whole ship will be in a diplomatic nightmare. Pretending to be disinterested but polite, he makes it a personal goal of his to protect them. Purely for his own sake, of course. It's not his fault they're all helpless as newborn cubs...

·Silent and stealthy as always, he finds it quite easy to keep watch over the entire group, who conveniently makes a habit of staying together. Sharp ears allow him to catch more or less everything they talk about, and as a shameless eavesdropper he listens in on everything he can. To his surprise they prove to be... less than annoying. Their takes on the crew are entertaining as well as agreeable, and they actually put great thought into the nuances of the war they never experienced. In a shocking twist these squishy little beings actually prove p have more complicated views of the factions and their ethos than your average bot, but he initially credits that more to their unbiased perspective. It isn't until he overhears a conversation about himself that his attitude changes. Unlike so many others, they express disbelief at his secondary status in Cybertronian society, noting his obvious intelligence and their sadness at the exclusion they've learned he's endured. He decides in that moment they're all not so bad at all.

·Some ridiculous, mushy feeling in his spark guides him to stop eavesdropping and to start associating with the liaisons in person, but a far colder and more practical feeling advises harshly against such an idea. What reason does he have to think they won't turn against him under the guidance of some bigoted crewmembers? Being targeted for harassment by strangers is unpleasant, but to face it from someone he let his guard down around... that hurts. He's not especially inclined to opening up weak spots for others. It's only the insistent and unbearable need to ensure they're safe, one he assures himself is purely practical, that leads him to finally approaching the group to... hang out.

·Perhaps the greatest shock of all is how welcoming and genuine each liaison is before he can even request to sit near them. Not only that, but none of them pet him! They're respectful of his space and treat him no differently than any other bot, and he's so surprised he's actually bashful when responding to their questions. This continues at a slow pace for months, leading to him gradually becoming so at peace with his new little gaggle of friends he naps in their presence and lounges with them as they socialize together. Eventually, at great personal risk, he even allows them to pet him. Just to get an itch their tiny hands are better at reaching, of course. But there's a closeness he can no longer deny when they end up lounging against him for a nap one day, and he's forced to admit he'd fight every force in the galaxy to keep them safe from harm, no longer just for his own sake. On more than one occasion he's caught ferrying them from place to place, either carrying one in his mouth like a kitten or letting them hold onto his back like baby possums. He vehemently denies this.

Chromedome/Rewind

·The two were curious and delighted to hear the ship would soon be host to an interspecies diplomatic effort, complete with envoys from Earth! They made a point to welcome the new arrivals at the landing point before they were even on board, with Rewind recording everything for posterity. Both felt their sparks absolutely surge at the incredibly adorable collection of young humans, thought they'd simultaneously made the same decision to protect the tiny beings on sight, and had affirmed that commitment with each other later. They'd long considered raising some new life of their own, and this could be like practice! Rewind decides he'll document as much as possible for reference, and also to present to Earth officials as proof the liaisons are safe and cared for.

·Soon everything is being recorded, and they both can't help adoring every achievement and first the young humans celebrate in space. From seeing their first new planet to meeting another organic race for the first time, they adore each moment to the fullest. They spend so much time with the group it isn't long before one notices how frequently they hold hands, and after a polite but hesitant question the two happily explain their relationship and status as Conjunx Endura, something that gets wide eyed looks of wonder once they explain the meeting. Soon they're answering a series of questions about Cybertronian "marriage" and whether or not most bots fall in love. Amongst the many comments is one on how "shippable" they are as a couple, which they see as high praise.

·As if a switch was flipped, they're soon being treated more or less as the dad's of the whole group, and they accept the honor quite happily. Liaisons follow them in public and come to them for comfort and advice, giving both the surprising realization they may actually be good at this whole parent thing. Chromedome even finds they have no fear of his mnemosurgery needles, and while Rewind is hesitant he can't deny his support of education as they learn about a scientific field well beyond anything their species has dreamed of. Rewind even makes it a point to show them videos of Cybertron in the distant past, and actually has to limit their screen time because there's just too much for them to learn at once.

·Trouble comes fast when the history of their journey comes up. Unwilling to lie, they have the incredibly painful task of explaining multiple things. First, the fact the ship split and second, Rewind was not amongst this original crew. The story is heavily sanitized, but honest, and recounts how death came to befall each of their partners. Retelling it is hard enough for them both they hold each other's hand as they get through it. By the end, every liaison sits in shocked silence, and they're worried for an instant the horror and grief of it all proved too much for such young and innocent beings. Who could blame them for being overwhelmed by the tragic and almost unnatural tale behind their current relationship? Together, they waited in great anxiety for a response.

·The young lifeforms they more or less adopted took them by incredible surprise. Tearfully but not at all hesitantly, they came forth to embrace their adopted parents, crying over the pain both must have suffered in the wake of such tragedy. Neither deserved to endure so much agony, and while they're so happy the two of them have each other, they're also so sorry things went the way they did. Both bots have to work together with their radically different sizes to bring each human in to form the best group hug they can manage. Trying not to cry themselves, they shush the tearful gathering and ensure them they don't have to be sad for them. Things have been hard, and there's always going to be lingering pain, but they have so much to be grateful for today. Each and every one of them is amongst those blessings.