#monitoring knockout …..

[misqnon]

transformuary day 9: TFP

i decided I didn’t wanna finish this one ✌️ lmao regardless, huge shoutout to the real reason I got into transformers (friend sending me knockout clips and immediately clocking him as my type)

[daiourage]

Other Prime wips

(Edit: forgot to put a link to my AU I'm weeping here it is)

Shameless AU posting on main or smth

I promise more plot concepts are gonna be posted but I gotta finalize these bitches first lasjdflajlsdkf

I'm slow bc school is STRESSING me tf out and it's only been like;; 3 weeks since it started hhhhh I regret taking these classes but I'mma power through for them credits so 3rd year will be a breeze

Please take these concepts in the mean time 🥂

Also unrelated but I got bands with my retainers so now I'm a weird mix of braces and mouthpieces and I look like a cyborg it's so fun!!! my teeth are itchy but if any of y'all are scared of getting y'all's teeth aligned it'll be alright I promise 👍 (sincerely, someone who's getting their teeth fixed in their 20s)

[keferon]

Sigh. I wasn’t strong enough to stop. I wrote a fic too

———————————

Pilots have to be constantly monitored by special people who are trained to do diagnostics. Not just medics. Scientists, engineers. There's a surprising number of things that can go wrong with a person hooked up to a machine.

The thing is.

The procedure is designed to help.

Jazz isn't sure Prowl is getting help.

Organics are fragile.

Most of the ones Jazz had met were, at least. Flesh is more susceptible to environmental influences than metal. Flesh accumulates damage faster, both external and internal. It often generates it itself.

The processes and causes are often a mystery to Jazz, but he's familiar with the general concept.

Organics are fragile.

That's why Jaz isn't very surprised by the crowds of medical personnel scurrying around a human military base.

As Prowl explained to him, humans don't have the built-in ability to open a HUD and perform self-diagnostics. Most of the time all you get is a vague signal in the form of pain in the injured area or nausea or changes in body temperature and things like that.

Pilots have to be constantly monitored by special people who are trained to do diagnostics. Not just medics. Scientists, engineers. There's a surprising number of things that can go wrong with a person hooked up to a machine. It's weird for Jazz. He's used to coming in for physical exams only when something's obviously wrong. Pilots are supposed to get checks just in case anything about them in theory could start breaking down in the future.

The thing is.

The procedure is designed to help.

Jazz isn't sure Prowl is getting help.

He spots the scientist in purple pretty quickly. A crowd of white-haired pilots is a nightmare to identify but this particular organic catches his attention almost instantly.

He's quite...extravagant looking. And he's practically glued to Prowl. They're involved in something together that Jazz isn't sure about, but Prowl looks...wobbly...when he returns from his visits to Tarantulas. And not in a funny way.

Tarantulas holds a special interest in Prowl. Special access, too. Whenever Prowl is injured, Tarantulas is the one who must be contacted immediately. Prowl's mech system needs an upgrade - Tarantulas must be consulted.

Tarantulas slips into the crevices and oozes between the plates. His hands are all over Prowl's personal space and Jazz doesn't really know what he should do about it because Prowl apparently doesn't mind.

Tarantulas dictates what he can and can't eat. What medications he should take and what software he should use.

Tarantulas gives him these little white bracelets with the information he writes on them for the other medics, because Prowl is special for some reason and only Tarantulas has instructions for him.

Knockout wipes his hands with some kind of special napkin and jerks his head around

“If you're looking for Prowl, he's in the labs for a physical.”

Jazz pretends this information is as mundane to him as it is to everyone else on this base

“Why can't you or the other medics examine him?”

“None of us have time to deal with the creepy experiments Prowl is constantly involved in” snorts Knockout ”Last time I checked his blood could dissolve plastic. Haha figuratively of course! Don't look at me like that!”

Jazz smiles, but there's no friendliness behind that smile

“Is this scientist doing experiments on Prowl?”

“Ah. As a matter of fact. Yes. Listen...” Knockout hastily picks up the first aid kit and walks towards the med bays “You'd better ask him yourself. My shift ends in ten minutes, I'm not in the mood to start anything now.”

Jazz nods

“Suuure , no problem.”

“Can I ask what you do in there?”

Prowl has this...look. The one that shows up usually after he gets back from the labs.

In his head, Jazz calls it “'Wobbly.” It's like Prowl's little organic body's joints are coming loose. If he had joints of course (Wait, humans have joints? Right?).

Prowl squints glumly, looking up at him

“Working on improving my mobility on the field.”

Jazz lets out a quiet “oooh.”

Then pulls himself back together

“Shouldn't that involve working on your armor, and not ..uh. you?”

Prowl leans his back against the wall.

“Installing new thrusters on a mech of my class doesn't make sense. They'll increase its speed, but they'll also burn fuel faster.

And installing larger fuel tanks is something reserved for Strikers. There's no way Orion would approve such an upgrade for me.”

Jazz carefully sits down on the floor next to Prowl. It still doesn't give him a good angle on his human's face, but Prowl stares at the floor anyway so...

“And you found some kind of loophole huh?”

Prowl gives a barely perceptible shrug.

“I did some calculations and noticed that the fuel used to run the Heavy Mechs is much more efficient. It's slower to burn out, and gives significantly better performance. Which makes sense, considering it's needed to compensate for the weight of the heavy armor. Used in my mech, it would give me a ten percent increase in speed and twice as much active usage time.

Jazz glares at the top of Prowl's head.

“Sounds like an epic idea, but I'm sensing a 'but' coming...”

“But it's highly toxic.”

“It's what??”

Prowl rubs the bridge of his nose with his fingers

“Only heavy mechs can run this type of fuel because there's enough room in them to insulate the cockpit well enough from any possible chemical exposure.”

Jazz nervously pulls the servo toward Prowl but hesitates at the last second and places it on the floor next to him.

“Prowl. Prowl your armor is lovely but it's anything but heavy.”

“It is” nods Prowl “There isn't enough room in my mech to shield me from any negative effects, so Tarantulas is working on making me immune to them.”

“But that....kind of...why are you letting him? I'm no expert, but sitting inside poisoned armor can't be good for you. I don't know what he told you, but if you had asked even one other medic...”

Prowl finally lifts his head and stares into Jazz's optics for a couple seconds

“He didn't convince me of anything. I asked him to do it myself.”

“Prowl...”

“People have biases against Tarantulas but I assure you, he doesn't do anything I didn't consent to him doing. He likes to go outside the box in his research. He doesn't dismiss my ideas as too harsh. We collaborate.”

“.....”

“The result will be worth it. You'll see.”

Jazz is uncomfortable admitting it, but he sees.

The result is impressive.

Prowl can not only move fast, he can do it for a long time. He's getting more efficient (again), faster (again), better (Prowl's subjective assessment).

The maintenance team wears special masks when working on the internal systems of his mech. The fuel is toxic. Not to Jazz, but even Jazz wouldn't want it to get on his plating.

And humans are fragile.

All organics tend to be fragile.

And Prowl... little flesh-and-blood Prowl gets into this poisoned armor and it's considered acceptable? Because his organic body seems to have developed enough resistance to this kind of damage he only gets a “”mild, easily treatable“” poisoning? And Tarantulas adds another white bracelet to his arm with notes on what substances Prowl needs to put in his drinks to keep his internal components from accumulating damage.

Jazz isn't sure what to think about this.

Jazz doesn't know what to do about it.

And frankly. Does he have the right to get involved if this is what Prowl has chosen for himself?

Tarantulas is a creepy, haunting shadow hanging over Prowl at the slightest opportunity. Tarantulas takes Prowl to a lab and runs poison through his veins. Tarantulas adores Prowl for allowing him to do this.

Prowl insists that Tarantulas is helping.

Jazz doesn't think Prowl is getting help.

[revelboo]

Okay all the pets got me I gotta share too. We have mr.kitty (Mr.pussy kitty to me) who acts like he's being starved each day and is very vocal about it. Then we have my cryptid Binx who always has wide eyes and runs from everyone and is silent unless I pull out a treat stick but loves to smothers me in attention. Honestly reminds me of Soundwave prime edition lol.

Cute!

Possessive

TFP Soundwave

• Startling when Soundwave gently bumps you in the shoulder with a servo, your heart goes racing. How is he so big and so quiet? And then his tendrils snake around you, cocooning you and lifting you. Apparently you’re going to work with him today. Tucking you against the side of his neck, his tendrils stay coiled around you like he’s worried you’ll fall. Curling into the warmth of him, you relax into his grip.

• “Lot to do today?” You ask and his head tips slightly so he can almost see you from his periphery. Claspers on the end of a tendril stroking your neck and cheek as he walks through the halls, his extra limbs snake around his frame. Loves having the warmth of you against him, but can’t help but be on edge with you anywhere near the other Decepticons. Sees Knockout give him a look in passing and his plating flares slightly in warning. Because you’re his. Doesn’t want the others looking at you.

• Amused as his tendrils whip slightly in agitation until the red mech rolls his optics and moves on, you lean your cheek against Soundwave’s neck. “Making friends, I see,” you tease and the claspers on the end of a tendril ruffle up your hair into disarray. “Hey.”

• Venting, he moves into command, hoping Megatron is at least behaving today. But it’s only him and Starscream and you make a funny snorting sound when you spot the other human. Head tipping, he tries to figure out what the Seeker has dressed his human in. It’s certainly fluffy. And the other human scowls, extending a single finger to make you start laughing and Starscream to stiffen. Tendrils flaring out around himself as the Seeker’s wings flare in threat, he stares the other mech down until Starscream curls a lip at him and resumes monitoring his console.

• “Was that a dominance thing?” You whisper and you see the other mech scowl at you again. “Because it was sexy. You’re the top dog here, huh?” And Soundwave’s completely still, tendrils whipping slightly like he’s agitated before he shudders. You’re laughing all over again as he turns and strides with you right back to his habsuite. Because you know where his processor just went.

[riskyraiker]

helloooo!! My request is kinda small, but can I request TFP decepticons reactions to a fem reader with a tiger alt mode?? (Colors are just white and black) she’s aggressive, but also gentle to ones she trusts and loves. Hope you don’t mind adding slight romance in it😓 Ty!<33

Reader with a tiger alt mode + the decepticons

Oh my god i love this😭🫶 btw there will not be anything about starscream except him hatin' predaking and reader :D since they're both like animals. Hope you enjoy!!

CW: there's a few dirty jokes so beware!! XD

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

Megatron

Finds you a good weapon in the battlefields ofc, but he does want you to be in best shape after every battle. Admires your strength to even defeat the last prime and almost eliminating him.

He rarely needs saving, but when you turned up, ripped optimus away from megatron, something lit up in him. The need of having you.

Talked to you after the whole battle and gave you best treatment he could with ordering knockout!!

The way you're actually gentle and caring didn't interest him before, but now he actually finds you slightly cute if he dares to admit it to himself.

Does like your choice of colour and style. Tigers do represent strength, courage and commanding respect! Like himself.

If he ever got the chance he would tell you he likes you and he will have you in his arms the rest of the day/night

Is really dominant in a relationship of course, but he knows how to be caring atleast.

If you insist of becoming his personal bodyguard he'd let you. Not because he's "weak", but so everyone knows not to challenge him even clearer.

Starscream yelling anything bad about you BANG He'll be getting treated by knockout soon enough. It was either you or Megatron but who cares, you both kick ass.

Any Autobot scum dare to hurt you? He WILL have their helm in under a week.

He actually loves you even if he doesn't say it :) You're on his good side with soundwave!

Soundwave

Does he care at first when he meets you? uhhh, no :) but when you start to check up on him while he works does make his spark a bit warm.

Stalks where you are going once he starts to take interest in you, but not in a creepy way ofc! He wants to know if you're safe or fragging somebot

Finds you pretty when he has time to look at you. Black and white is pretty old style, but fancied after all this time.

If you get injured in a battle he will make the autobots chase laserbeak and he'll comes and gets you back to the nemesis.

If you stay a lot in tiger form he gives you pets if you ask. He ain't that mean and can't say no to that face. (He can :))

He serves Megatron with huge loyalty so he's a busy bot, hope you can live with that. (just stay in the room with him and cuddle his pedes in tiger form)

If he he's busy any other way laserbeak will stay with you. Your little baby bird :)

He doesn't speak so he will just display hearts on his or any other monitor close to you <3

He's just a sweet quiet bot with speaking issues xD

Dreadwing

Treats you decently at first which is so cute. Since you're caring, sweet and follow rules well he thinks you're not that bad.

Once he sees you beat half of the autobot team, he wanted to stay on your good side ALL THE TIME.

Once he catches interest ohhoh, you will be smitten!

I imagine he's more of a gentleman so he would let you go through doors first and help you when needed.

Patrols together? Do you even have to ask :)

Admires your style and the way the black and white bring the best parts of your frame out.

If you're big as a tiger jus give him a ride to battle and just chuckle at autobots' faces.

Spends time with you much as possible, but serving Megatron is most likely higher priority to him than you.

HAND KISSES TO SHOW AFFECTION!!!!!!!!

Injured and need help? It's already taken care of since Dreadwing is in the battlefield with you.

Does say that he loves you multiple times in the week. (Maybe even in a day)

Doesn't like starscream, never did and doesn't now either since he's always trash talking you down.

"Stupid pest! You trashed the whole control room! Can you do anything good in this primus forsaken ship!?!? I might aswell rip you spa-"

"Whose the second in command, starscream? You better shut your intake and not speak a WORD of my love like that again!"

That would turn me on WHO SAID THAT?! NOT ME :)))

Loves you unconditionally and shows it much as he can <3

You kept his knife/sword after he got killed :((

Knockout

"IS THAT A BEAUTIFUL PAINTJOB I SEE?!" his first reaction of you be like :D But like actually he loves it.

That's what he liked in you at first only, but once he gets to see your sweet and caring personality...oh he's probably passing out.

"Since you're the only medic here, I thought you'd like some help :)" You went to help Knockout with something and he didn't even ask? He must be in heaven/one with the all spark?? idfk

Imagine if you save his aft and his fabulous paintjob? He would give you big grin "So you do admire my paintjob, doll? I knew it ;)" Such a fragging dork he is

Go racing with him please!!! Your and Knockout's quality time is racing 100%

Oh and the drive-in theaters he mentioned in season 3! He takes you there for a "date" but doesn't say it is.

Just confessed a random day when you came to check up on him

"Helloooo Knockout, do you need any hel-" "I love you..." "I love you too dummy" *Smooch* Cute

Poor breakdown, now he's the third wheel :,) UNLESS POLYAMORY IS FINE WITH YOU ALL IS FINE ALL IS PERFECT <3<3<3<3

But when he dies you'll help Knockout with buffing :,( and support aswell.

The corniest couple of decepticons or any living cybertronian couples. Just cuteness everywhere nonethless!!!

Breakdown

He was intimated by you at first like he found Arachnid intimidating.

But once you show your sweet and caring side he lowers his walls. He also loves your style (And you already <3)

Talks about you to knockout and asks for advise since he's so clueless.

Seeing your strength in battle made his optics shaped like stars and he admired you for like a week after. He wants to challenge you, but holds his request back.

If your alternate form is a automobile...PLEASE GO FOR A DRIVE TOGETHER

He ain't got the balls to confess so ofc you made the first move

The big bot team in battles!! Go on and beat bulkheads aft and laugh together when you recall those fights back at nemesis (or when he's gone :(

POLYAMOROUS WOOOOOOO GET KNOCKOUT OVER HERE!!

Shows his love for you when there is not many bots around. (Professionalism!!) You're at work so behave!

Hugs, hugs, hugs and HUGS! He's a bigbuly bot so he gives good bear hugs <3

The only thing you have left of him is a pretty crystal he brought you before he died :((

Predaking

Another beast on nemesis? He makes sure you know who's stronger, mightier and loyal. But you managed to surprise him by actually being sweet once you get to know him.

Wants to protect you and if you both are in beast mode you WILL play fight

He might offer you a flight if you are nice enough to him

Fell in love with you when you bit Starscreams wing after he hit Predaking.

Most likely the deadliest duo on the ship unless Megatron joines too >:)

Autobots can go panic into a corner when you two show up on the battlefield :D It feels like a morning stretch to you two xD

You join Predaking if Shockwave decides to "borrow" him for a little bit and it makes his whole frame warm up.

Actually loves you show much and shows it even. SNUGGLES AND CUDDLING DURIN RECHARGE PLS

Wants to spend the future with you. And after the whole Megatron posessed by Unicron thing you both go and live on your own <3 Just him and you, no one else.

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

AN: TWO POSTS IN ONE DAY WTF?!?!?! But here you go! Don't mind if the writing is a little scoodaddle, I wrote during the middle of the night and the next morning so it's what it is :)) Hope you like it and don't be afraid to request more!!!!<3333

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Forty Five - Attachment Issues

Part Forty Four

———

Pilots go through a range of testing before being assigned a mech suit, starting with the initial compatibility testing.

Much like the United States ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery), a standardized test that helps gauge the aptitude for those attempting to enter the military. To help with placement in specific military roles. Pilots have a similar written test.

The CEFP (Compatibility Effect for Future Pilots), which assesses the future pilots potential for compatibility, a seventy-five percent and above is necessary to continue onto the physical compatibility test. 

Compatibility tested is run and maintained by the different organizations with mech suits across the plant, the tests are all roughly similar and maintain the same standards for pilots. The physical compatibility testing is now, *REDACTED*. 

After the physical compatibility testing, which now takes anyone fifty percent compatible and above, they move onto health monitoring and mental health exams. 

No person will have implants installed if they are physically incapable of supporting the technology and further none will be installed if they do not have the mental fortitude to withstand the connection to a suit. 

There have only been a handful of known pilots to have still carried on to become so after failing any one of the tests listed above. Whether from extreme circumstances, necessary circumstances, or the downright strange. 

Pilots are expected to be in peak physical and mental health when piloting, if declines are expected based on a number of scenarios they are quickly moved on from the line for treatment or termination. 

All Arcturus pilots were vetted for their fortitudes before launch, multiple times over. No pilot would be sent on this mission if they were deemed stable enough to maintain the fight till the end of their estimated lifespan.

—

It was almost making his skin crawl, the way Mirage kept a hand on his arm. Though it was nice while also being one of the weirdest sensations he’d ever felt. Harder to explain than he’d have imagined, being a pilot all these years he was used to just about everything one could experience in a suit, this however was different. He hadn’t noticed the buzzing feeling that was running over his skin, stopping at his bare shoulder while still covering him.

He hadn’t noticed when it started, but now it was hard to not notice. It was subtle but it felt similar to when there was a lightning storm far too close for comfort or when you rest your hand against a plasma orb, even similar to why you rub a balloon against your hair. Static electricity running across his plating, his skin, extending out of him like a shield.

Suppressing a shudder, he sighed slowly, wanting to rest his hand over Mirage’s but for the moment that wasn’t possible. Glancing at him, he tried to smile, his visor brightening slightly. The bits of comfort this mech brought to him seemed boundless.

Mirage was clearly still out of it, smiling stupidly at him, his eyes adjusted to slightly different settings. Like pupils after a concussion, the dent in his head wasn’t exactly pretty.

“You feeling okay Raj’?” The poor mech nodded slightly and swayed worse than slightly, more like stumbling roughly into Hound. Pulling his arm away, he put it on Mirage’s back, “Steady, we’re almost back then Knockout or one of the other medics needs to get a look at you.” Mirage hummed, subconsciously, Hound shifted his grip around Mirage’s shoulders and held him tighter. While Miragens hand went to the spot it always went on Hound’s back. 

Covering that missing plating as if it were instinct now, “Yeah, yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” Nodding some, Hound hummed back and kept going, keeping his grip on Mirage, steadying him with each step. If today couldn’t get any worse, then it would mean his luck was actually existent. 

The bar's remains were worse than he thought it was, worse than he remembered it being, before the fight, before the ship. It looked less like a bomb went off and more like a tornado had leveled the place. He’d seen buildings in this state back home, but it was usually caused by pilots falling into them or natural disasters. 

This was worse than he’d let himself remember, the place they’d all come to love and care for, reduced to rubble. The first step he took onto the pile almost went out from under him, swearing as what remained of his feet clung to the uneven stone and metal.

Sideswipe’s head jerked around, his visor brightening, “We were wondering where the two of you disappeared off to!” The pilots who could move turned and his blood almost ran cold, they all looked just as bad as he felt. Everyone looked worse for wear, none of them had paint left on their suits and the only bit of color was at present coming from their visors.

Not a good look, they all looked like the walking dead. Least to the Cybertronian’s eyes. 

He could see his arm was propped up against a crate, which Megatron was sitting on. Breakdown was nowhere in sight and they all looked like a bomb had gone off, but then again that wasn’t far from what actually happened. He felt like hell, heart rate finally starting to come back down for the first time all day.

Moving over slowly, he helps Mirage to sit and turns, “That sucked.” Sunstreaker was wrapped in Bluestreak’s arms, as if being shielded, “I think that’s the understatement of the century Hound, I mean, look at where we’re sitting.” He didn’t even glance around, dragging a hand down his face. 

In the distance there was more blaster fire and Megatron hung his head for a long moment, “Hound, I don’t have the right words to thank you and yours.” Megatron’s voice was gruff and Hound shook his head, “Yeah, well, it’s the reason why we’re standing here. Those things are doing that to our home and now here, so we fight, alright?” He didn’t want to be having this conversation, turning around to pace slowly. 

There wasn’t any argument in that, from either party, but then again, he couldn’t see Sunstreaker’s face. Damnit, his suit was at the moment an oversized hunk of junk and there was nothing he could do about it till either Knockout was done working or they got back to the apartment. His implants were draining down his neck and burning, he had to do everything in his power to not disconnect.

”Hound, hey, breathe.” A hand landed on his shoulder and he almost slapped it off, turning to look at Jazz. The shift in hue and brightness in his visor was instinctual, nodding a bit, Hound took in slow and deep breaths, “God, we were just trying to relax and everything has to go belly up, huh?” Jazz’s hand patted his shoulder.

The panic was tearing at his throat, sucking in air through restricted lungs, “You!” Closing his eyes for a second, he sighed slowly and turned, “Yeah?” Knockout’s glare was cold, coming out from the shuttle and picking up Hound’s arm, he set his jaw, “You threaten my life again and I’ll kill you.” Nodding slowly, he takes a slow breath, “Yeah Knockout, that’s fair. Now leave me alone.” 

But the medic was already shaking his head, “No, no. You're next. Repair bay, now.” Sliding his look to Jazz, he wanted to say something, anything to get out of it but Jazz was shaking his head, “At least get your arm reattached, we’re not evacuating for a bit.” His remaining hand was shaking. 

Nodding again, he moves over slowly, walking past everyone else, in all their states of disrepair. Megatron glanced up, but there wasn’t much to his expression at the moment other than pain. He was glad that their visors didn’t show much, making his way onto the small landed shuttle.

They’d be grounded till the Seekers were done, sitting down on one of the crates in there, he glanced towards Breakdown. If he were Cybertronian, Hound would think he was lucky to get the cot. For them not being Cybertronian, it’s pointless. Shifting back on the box, he leveled his glower at Knockout.

He didn’t hate the medic, far from it, but he was in no mood right now. He’d honestly rather be back in the rubble, leaned against Mirage for the foreseeable future. His arm was set across his lap and he stared down at it for a moment, “A seeker shot it off.” The sigh let out of Knockout was like one his father would when he’d brought home more bugs.

”Of course, because they refuse to actually look at their targeting systems.” Grumbling, he went about cleaning the spot at his shoulder, though it wasn’t entirely necessary, “Knockout, you can just reattach it,” “Like hell, your kind do not show enough care in tending to your wounds.” He started to shake his head before his ears were ringing with a smack to his good shoulder.

Knockout stood frozen after that, staring down at his hand and flexing his fingers lightly. After all, humans hadn’t been known to have EM fields.

Wincing, he rubbed his audio input, “God, okay.” Shifting on the crate, he sits forward slightly, closing his eyes with a sigh. Using the arm that wasn’t connected to the suit, he pulls off his oxygen mask, sighing slowly and turning down his microphone. Everything for controlling the suit was within arms reach, even if his arm was numb and buzzing, it was better to use that one then confuse Knockout.

Rubbing his jaw, he sighed slowly, “Just relax Hound, it will take a bit to reattach your arm.” Humming, he tilts back slightly on the crate, leaning his head back against the wall and his piloting chair. Eyes still closed, though able to see.

It didn’t take long for his mind to wander, the numbness in his arm feeling more like a blood pressure cuff than anything else. The light shifts to be nearly painfully bright as he blinks back at it. Everything was scarily familiar and he shifted slightly on the hospital bed, sighing slowly as they took his blood pressure again. 

Pilots weren’t supposed to be dealing with these medical issues, they were meant to be healthy. He’d been in the military for crying out loud. The lights being shined in his eyes were incredibly annoying, shifting a bit on the table, “Sir, look, it was just an overly long mission.” He winced again when the light swept across his vision again.

”Your blood pressure is excessively high and you might have a concussion, we are simply checking that it is safe to release you.” Ratchet’s light was the most annoying part of this process and the systematic pressure then release of the blood pressure cuff. Shifting on the bed, he sighs slowly, “Doctor, sir, I understand but I’m already late to some testing.” He winces as Ratchet starts to bring his legs back up ro range of motion.

Sighing, he closes his eyes for a moment, “Sir, really, I have to get to testing. My wife is expecting me for dinner after.” His skin crawled from the words, the memories burning. Ratchet’s hum did not help or soothe the pain from his words, “She’ll be there when you're done, like every pilot's partner. They put up with a lot for pilots, you’re lucky to have found one who saw the appeal.” Only, she hadn’t. They’d been together since before the military, before compatibility, before being a hunter class, all of it and he wasn’t convinced she’d stick around for the rest.

He knew she wouldn’t.

Shifting again, he shakes his head and starts to remove the blood pressure cuff, “I’m tired of this, this isn’t a mandatory evaluation so I’m leaving, sir.” Kup would yell at him later and he’d be dodging tools whenever he was in Ratchet’s presence likely for the rest of time but he needed to be out of here.

Away from the far to bright, prying, lights.

There was a firm rap on the window that made him jump, his heart rate returning to it’s dangerous high when the microphone keyed into the room, “Doctor, I would suggest that you wrap this up. His vitals are stable enough, Hound has to return for further testing.” His stomach sank.

Scientists on Earth were terrifying, all willing to do the unimaginable to further progress, but none like that man. Hiding behind people, a helmet, and now one-way glass. Shockwave was the beast of all MECHA pilots' nightmares. His own included most nights.

Nodding a bit, he moved to get off the table, and the hard shove back jolted him back to reality. The space darkened back to the normal tones and he blinked against it, Knockout in his face, “Wake up and stop moving!” Breakdown was at Knockout’s shoulder, a hand against his cockpit. 

Taking deep breaths rapidly, Hound looked around, they were still in the shuttle where Knockout was reattaching his arm. Which by the feel of it, was fixed, and he slowly started to move it carefully. 

“He is overtired, the day has been long, for all of us.” Breakdown was looking at Knockout, putting distance between them, “Dealing with medical like this is hard on us, I would suggest finishing the repair then moving on to Sunstreaker.” Knockout’s scowl would have wiped the paint clean from his suit if there was any left. 

Nodding firmly, Knockout moves back over carefully, “I just have to fix the plating, so hold still if you can.” Sighing, he nodded and tried not to shift in his seat. 

Memories like that always clawed at his mind, but that one was more distinct, clearer than he remembered it. Every time he thought the symptoms from Overuse would fade they made his stomach drop. Then again, like Breakdown said, today had been worse than a normal run of the mill attack.

An executioner, according to Jazz, he’d have to ask Megatron about that. Sure, they all knew deep down that whatever was attacking Earth couldn’t be it, or even their best, but that thing was worse than he’d imagined. His head was spinning lightly, the shifting of his plating grated on his ears.

Hound suppressed the wince, sighing when Knockout stepped back, “Alright, done.” Standing quickly, he moved his shoulder a bit to ensure the range of motion, “Thank you Knockout.” Knockout only hummed as Hound ducked out of the shuttle, not even flinching at the sunshine. 

Even with the area still a mess, his missing plating moving around in his cockpit, along with the hard drive looking thing he’d pulled from the Quintesson ship, Hound probably wouldn’t have chosen to be anywhere else. Especially as he was able to sink to the ground next to Mirage and the bot's arm came around him far too easily, shell-shock. That’s all this was, the likely concussion the man had and shell-shock.

—

When Hound came out of the shuttle, he was clearly still trying to get used to the feeling of his arm. Sunstreaker watched with careful eyes, frowning. 

The rubble was still relatively quiet, except for the distant bombing and attacks, shouts and orders reverberated through the abandoned streets. Everyone was coming down from their adrenaline highs and it was starting to hit them like a ton of bricks, including him.

He didn’t want to move, he was comfortable where he was and if Knockout came near him again he’d throw his arm at the medics head. The last thing he wanted to do was spend the next hour in medical getting his suits’ arm reattached when he could stay right where he was, Ironhide as lookout and Bluestreak tucked close. His backup, plus his brother within eyesight were enough to keep him calm.

At first, he’d tried to get Sides over with them but he knew the shade to his visor. None of them read visor, not like Cybertronian’s did but they did try to communicate with them. Years of fighting side by side when comms were down meant the subtle changes were obvious to him. They both were fighting their own demons. Of course today would get to Simon, things like this always did, and did they get to Sonny too?  Yeah, always, but it had been worse without Blue at his back. It was different for them, both of them. That day all those years ago was different in their eyes. He’d been there and Sideswipe had been at school. It was simple, but it didn’t change the fact they lost their parents when their apartment building collapsed.

It didn’t change that they ended up on the streets because the savings and life insurance they had from mom went into trying to keep dad alive. To keep a man with no fight left in him alive. 

They were together, every moment after it, even on a far off alien planet when a different building fell on him, they were in it together. This time though, Sides knew what it felt like when the ceiling came down on top of him. It was tearing his heart out, one of the few things he was relieved about in life, his brother now understood far too well. They all did. Sighing shakily, he tightens his hold on Bluestreak’s arm. He wasn’t having to say much and glad he didn’t have to. Glad to be able to sit there in the quiet for a little while longer. 

The arm he held was pinned across his cockpit, the greys almost blending together, but it was protective. More than most could know. So when Knockout came back out of the medical shuttle, he sunk back into Blue’s grip. 

“Sunstreaker, you're next.” But he was already shaking his head, “I’m not going anywhere.” Hound didn’t even glance over, “Leave the kid be Knockout, you can fix his arm later.” They shared a look, but Knockout started to shake his head, “You all are hurt and need repairs.” Bluestreak’s grip shifted slightly and Sunny grasped at his arm, “Repairs we can do later.” He kept his voice low, glancing at Sideswipe.

Knockout moves over, offering a hand, “Come on, we’ll get it reattached quickly.” Shaking his head, Sunny takes his fallen arm and throws it straight into Knockout’s face.

Bluestreak was immediately up and pulling him back, as Ironhide and Sideswipe fell in, in front of him, “Alright, that’s enough! He doesn’t want your slagging help right now.” Ironhide was blocking the path mostly, though his eyes kept being drawn to his fallen arm. Megatron was starting at where it had landed. Knockout was breathing heavily, “It is not my fault that their kind have expected them to dress their own wounds! He’s hurt and refusing treatment!” Finally, Megatron stands and moves over carefully, the area falling quiet.

He reaches down and picks up Sunny’s arm, frowning before looking toward him.

Sunny was still behind Sideswipe and Ironhide, being held back by Bluestreak, “Is there a reason why you do not wish to have your arm reattached at this very moment?” Gritting his teeth, he tried to stay calm, “I can think of a million, the number one being that I’m not going into that metal box.” His voice was harsher than he meant it to be, hand clutching at Blue’s, “Number two being that a building just fell on all our heads and I'd rather not be treated by someone who could fuck it up.” Ironhide had to move back in front of Knockout, but he didn’t care, “Number three is I couldn’t give less of a fuck about my arm right now. It’s an appendage, it can be reattached, it’s doesn’t fucking hurt, and it’s the least of my worries.” 

An uneasy silence fell over them, Bluestreak gently turning him away, “Come on Sunny, let’s just take a minute.” Nodding, he sighed and put his remaining arm back around Blue. Struggling to breath still, he shoves the visor on his helmet up out of the way to wipe at his eyes, using his missing arm to avoid odd looks. He couldn’t even remove his oxygen mask until he was able to clean out the suit, which was making it all a thousand times worse. 

No paint, missing arm, disgusting suit, and all the people around him wanted him to do was make them more comfortable. To hell with them, leaning his head against Bluestreak’s shoulder, he closed his eyes. Letting tears fall as he muted his microphone.

Gasping painfully, he clutches Blue’s back.

It wasn’t the building that put him in this state, it was the fact he had felt defenseless and the one consistent he’d had for the last six months or more hadn’t been there. It hadn’t been safe for the Cybertronian’s, who were all truly hurt, to be out there with them and it was horrible. Had been horrible to have to experience the dread tearing at his throat. To see them all get shredded like their suits didn’t weigh several tons and took hundreds of hours of engineering to make perfect. He loved being a pilot, fighting and killing the Quintessons, it was his life, but today felt so different than it normally did.

Today, it felt like they almost lost.

—

Eventually Sideswipe went to get his visor filled and Mirage was shifted to the cot when Breakdown wandered back out into the sun, squinting against it.

Moving over, the pilots had sort of huddled together now. Like they would in the apartment or, where they were now, the bar. So he moved over and sat with them, the fresh welds for his head glinting lightly against the sunshine. It was only mildly jarring to see Sunstreaker with the missing lower half of his arm, it was worse that they were all stripped down to their ballistic steel. A mix of MECHA stamps and military imprints peeking out from under the normally painted plating. Shifting in his piloting chair, he tried not to groan, his entire body ached.

Hound glanced up, “We’ll get back to the apartment as soon as we can, get some rest before they’ll start trying to figure out how the Quints got in so close.” Nodding a bit, he couldn’t help but rub at his neck, “Before the Quints come back, you mean?” Everyone looked at him and he shrugged lightly, “We all know how this goes. We handled the current infestation, invasion even, have some time and they come back again. Sometimes weaker, other times stronger. This was just a test of their defenses.” Sideswipe swore and Sunstreaker shook his head, even as Bluestreak righted his grip around the poor kids suit.

He didn’t think he’d ever understand that one. Everything he was seeing and had heard, he’d never truly get. Maybe it was because he wasn’t America, raised entirely differently, but that level of connection was so different.

Sighing, Hound slowly nodded, “That’s what I was thinking too.” Glancing back towards Megatron, Hound rubbed his face, “I’ll have a meeting with the Prime and Protector tomorrow, to let them know what we think.” Shaking his head a bit, Hound looked back, “This sucks.” Breakdown almost cracked a smile, American slang was always fun to hear, reminded him of movies he’d watched with his brothers, “That it does, but we’ll get through this. All of us, with our units.” Because they’d split up again, today, they’d all got their asses kicked without their usual back up but today was also extreme circumstances.

Ones that they could face again and again if this was the direction the war was going.

Sometimes, sometimes when they were all able to just sit down and look out their monitors at each other, Breakdown could almost forget he was a man in a suit. That the suit wasn’t just an extension of who he was, of who his family had been even. That seeing the Cybertronian’s just made all of this feel actually normal and not insane.

A nearby speaker bleated out something that sounded vaguely like English and they all whipped their heads towards it staring before starting to laugh. Laugh hard and hysterically, tears sliding down onto their oxygen masks while they gasped for breath, weezing with it. The heartbreak was going to tear them apart of the Quints didn’t do it first.

———

A/N

Wow, this chapter took forever. I wrote Hound’s part over the weekend and everything else was just a lot. I loved it though, this is one of my favorite chapters I’ve written.

But next chapter, we might get some MegOp, and Megatron and Hound interactions again! Yay!

Did I plan that? No, but this is how the last five parts of part one are going.

TAGS

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscrapheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare @ham4ponyo @osqindaxend @sunnyvibesanddoodles @ratatatata248 @ijustneedausernaneplease4444444 @sprook-children @fooolisher 

And once again thank you to @Keferon for this amazing AU!

[astroboots]

Punch-Out Love

Artwork by @guruan

FIGHT NIGHT

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You're lucky enough to score ring-side seats at a boxing match on Friday night. Getting the best view in the house of boxing champion: Miguel O'Hara.

Word count: 1,500

Next Chapter

Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist 

You know fuck all about boxing.

About the only thing you know about the sport was from the glimpses you caught watching scratched up old recordings of Muhammed Ali fights on the boxy mini-tv of your old childhood friend's house.

It always seemed barbaric. The practice of watching two human beings beat the shit out of each other for spectator's entertainment. It seems like something that was better left in the Ancient Roman times. Have we all human beings as a society, really not come further some 2,000 years later?

Your bestie used to get mad at you for this. Constantly defending the sport from your criticism, because (according to him) it's not just about smashing each other's faces in. Supposedly, there's an art to the sport. Boxers are taught to respect their opponents and adhere to the principles of good sportsmanship. It takes great mental discipline, dedicated work and years of hard and punishing training to master boxing.

You never saw any of that in the matches he showed you. All you saw were two men needlessly being hurt, sustaining brain damage for rich people's enjoyment.

Then again, he was more than a little bit biased, considering it was his dream to go pro one day. Tall and gangly, with his scrawny antelope legs, thick-rimmed glasses and big-ass braces, he looked like he couldn't punch his way out of a paper bag, much less another person. You never understood how exactly he thought he was going to make it as a boxer.

But you never found it in you to burst his unrealistic bubble when he used to point at the screen excitedly, drawing your attention to Ali's footwork and the artistry in it. 

"It's like he's dancing," he used to say.

Except dancing is done with swelling music in the background. In dancing you often have a partner. It's an embrace. It's gentle and kind.

Boxing... was not that.

So you don't know how you managed to find yourself in the ringside seats of a local boxing match on a Friday evening, staring up at the boxing ring with the glaring ring lights shining into your eyes.

"Aren't these seats amazing?" Jess shouts excitedly over the familiar lyrics of ‘We Will Rock You' being belted out by Freddy Mercury on the loudspeaker.

You smile, and nod, because boxing-fan or not, she's right, these are some amazing seats. And considering you didn't have to pay a dime for them, personal aversions aside, you're never going to turn down free stuff.

Jess' husband tested positive for covid at the last minute, and you're the only one in your social circle that is anti-social and single enough to not have any plans on a Friday evening.

On the monitors above you, the menacing headshots of the two fighters swish into view.

"The first guy is an old reigning champ," she explains to you, as she leans in, shouting into your eardrums (and yet you can still barely make out what she's saying over the music). "The challenger is some new kid on the block. Has an amazing track record. Zero losses in the season. He's something else."

You look up at the gigantic screen, at the sharp cut cheeks, strong thick brows and the intense pitched brown eyes staring down at you.

Angry looking dude.

...Handsome too.

With a face like that, surely he could've gone into other careers. Calvin Klein model, movie star, or a news anchor. You wonder what makes a guy voluntarily have his face bashed in for money as a career.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a loud booming voice announces from the stage.

You jump in your seat from the suddenness, as you see a bald and overly formal dressed announcer in the middle of the ring. 

"Welcome to the electrifying boxing showdown of the century! Are you ready to witness some knockout action tonight?"

The crowd around you cheers with a pandemonium of shouting and whistling.

"Introducing our first fighter, a true hometown hero! With an impressive record of 20 wins, 15 by knockout, and only 2 losses, standing at 6'3 feet, and weighing in at 340 pounds of determination and strength, give it up for ‘the Knockout King’ Bobby Kane!"

You watch as the reigning champion walks down the tunnel to the midst of adoring cheers as he waves and gestures at the crowd like royalty.

Every inch the king that he is nicknamed, he jumps over the rope and stands tall and proud over the ring.

The man is huge, bulging with almost grotesque muscles. He's so large that you almost expect each of his steps to send a reverberation throughout the hall, as if this was Jurassic Park and he's a T-Rex.

"Now, entering the ring with the confidence of a warrior, fighting out of the red corner, with 15 wins, 10 by knockout, and no losses, standing at an astounding 6 feet 9 inches, and weighing in at 310 pounds of raw power, let's hear it for tonight's challenger, ‘Steel Jaw’ Miguel O'Hara!"

Wait what? You do a double take at the announcement. Six foot nine?!?! What kind of giant is that?

From the far corner of the hall, you see his silhouette emerge, and your eyes go wide at the sight of him. Tall doesn't even begin to describe him. 

There's a 200 year oak tree at Central Park, and with the shadow this man casts, you think their height must be nearly comparable. If you thought the Knockout King was tall, the "King" is practically tiny compared to this challenger.

You watch, as the man with cheeks so sharp they mind as well be blades (and god never has a nickname made more sense to you) as he strides towards the stage. He reaches the rope and barely even has to climb over it with how tall he is.

He's leaner than his predecessor. Every inch of him is cut muscles and tanned gorgeous skin as he stands in front of you. His presence is electric. The air crackles where he stands, towering over the stage.

You swear that his towering height blocks out the ring lights with it, casting the stage in the darkness of his tall shadow.

Somehow, he's even prettier in person compared to the still image of him blown up and plastered on the big screen. Soft brown curls and pouty lips. You don't understand in what world a man like that is a professional fighter.

From this distance, with the way that the light refracts from his irises, his eyes almost glow with a scarlet red that takes your breath away as you look up at him and meet his eyes.

If you didn't know better, you'd think he was staring at you.

The bell rings out, but he's not looking away. The intensity you find there is enough to make you swallow your tongue. Your face prickles with heat and for several long moments you forget to breathe, until the air seems to thin around you and your vision starts to swim.

Then he turns to face his opponent.

You're not quite sure where to look. There's so much happening at once. For his size, Miguel O'Hara is surprisingly deft on his feet. His footwork is somehow both unpredictable yet intentional all at once.

The King throws a strong punch, as he lunges forward, after his tall opponent. But O'Hara dodges them seemingly without effort. It's followed by punches so quick, the movements blur together.

Strike after strike. The King is giving it his all. But none of it properly connects. With every failed hit, you can see him growing increasingly more frustrated.

Your heart is in your lungs, and despite how close you are to the stage, you almost want to get up from your seat for a closer look.

Safe as you are behind the ropes, adrenaline rushes through your veins with a fury. You can't recall the last time you felt this ecstatic about... well, anything.

With each punch O’Hara dodges, you feel yourself lurch back in your seat, trying to dodge the punch with him.

It's titillating.

Exciting.

O'Hara's movements are precise and honed with intention despite the ferocity in his movements. Each one is measured and intricate and if you didn't know any better you'd almost call it graceful.

You think back to those moments in your childhood friend's home, and his excited words buzz in your ears now. For the first time ever you finally understand what he had meant.

It is like a dance.

Before you, O’Hara's eyes cross over in your direction and for a split of a second, you swear your eyes connect again. His gaze holds you there, pinned to your seat, and excitement shoots through the entirety of your spine until you feel lightheaded from the attention.

Then he finally steps forward, no longer evading.

It's brutal and efficient.

An uppercut that connects cleanly to his opponent's jaw.

Spit and blood flies out from the man's mouth, the flabby flesh of his cheek vibrating from the impact as he lands on the floor with an ear-shattering thud.

Then the guy is out.

Barely even eight minutes in. 

There's a stunned and shocked silence. The crowd seems both enthralled and disappointed at how fast it all went. On the ring floor, you can practically see the circle of cartoon birds flying above the defeated King's head.

You may not know anything about boxing, but you know that this man is not getting up anytime soon, no matter how far the referee counts.

Tearing your eyes away from the motionless body splayed out on the ground elevated above you, you can see the victor towering menacingly over the body.

But Miguel O'Hara isn't even looking at his defeated opponent

No, his eyes are staring straight into the sea of awestruck spectators. Except he’s not looking at them.

He's looking at you.

~ Next.

Author's note: What's that you say? CiCi wtf are you doing starting another series when you already got one going on? ... Idek man. But I hope you guys enjoy it, cause I had a blast writing it, smut will ensue in later chapters I promise!

Dedications and Credits: Buckle up it's gonna be a big one!

Firstly to @guruan when I say she's my muse THIS IS WHAT I MEAN! Look at that beautiful artwork. I am drooling into my panties. I am crying between my legs. I am so damn horny! I cannot thank this amazingly talented genius enough. Please please give this wonderful brilliant human your love by following her, and drop by her KO-FI SHOP cause the art this woman bless us with is UN-fucking-REAL

Then to @djarinsbeskar who put this idea into my head. In my mind she is the OG Boxer AU champion and mastermind. If you are in the mood for more boxing content, she has a wonderful, devastatingly sexy series Boxer!Din AU that is just woof woof bark bark.

[tinydefector]

Hi!! 😆

Can I have Soundwave x human reader (smut pls (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง)?

People didn't write him much, my husband need more love 😔🤌❤️✨

Thank for reading this!!

Stress relief

Soundwave x human reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral, Cockwarning

Word count: 1.5K

Request and ask open, read pinned post

Soundwave masterlist

__________________

"Soundwave can you re-check that scanner for me, I can't reach it to recalibrate its systems from here" the human's voice calls out to the intelligence officer, as they move around Soundwave desk in a scattered fashion trying to find maps and energon signals.

 Soundwave helm tilts slightly at the request as he turns to observe his human.he runs his own diagnostics, clearly indicating the scanner does not need recalibration. Soundwave almost uncanny mix of voices patch together speak:  " assistance not required. Scanner functioning adequately."  He remains standing quietly, typing away at the large computer with his servos while his tendrils rearrange scattered data pads. 

Their eyes meet his visor, looking up at him slightly frazzled. "Are you sure they are?" 

 With a sigh, he re reviews the scanner readings again, analysing more closely given the human's evident fatigue. His displays flash as data is processed.  "Confirmation: scanner calibration within normal parameters. However, you appear in need of recharge." The mixed voices of Knockout, Starscream and their own voice echoes back at them as He awaits a response, sensors attuned to subtle cues that could indicate the depth of exhaustion and other issues requiring assistance. 

"I'm fine soundwave" they call out while moving back to continue working, soundwave wraps his digits around them, pulling them back against his form, his visor tilted down to look at their eyes, he knows full well they are exhausted and Fatigue was catching up to their smaller frame. "I promise soundwave, I'm fine"

Soundwave detects elevated stress levels and the possibility of accident or harm at the current state of exhaustion. Soft ventilations cycle through his frame as his digits gently but firmly enfold the human in a protective hold.  "Statement: physiological indicators suggest otherwise."  His visor dims softly. Forcing the issue would risk negative impact, not only on his work but their work too.  

"I'm not gonna win this argument with you am I?" 

 Soundwave's visor remains dimmed calmly as the human speaks. He processes their words carefully before responding.  "Negative." They sigh softly and press their head against Soundwave's shoulder plating, each of his steps echoing throughout the halls.   "Are you going to stay with me tonight, or does megatron have you working even more?" Soundwave processes the question, sensing his partner's wish for company while recharging.

 A brief comm link check confirms he has no urgent tasks requiring his attention for night's cycle. "Megatron: aware of mission status. No tasks assigned to Soundwave at this time. I will remain for your recharge cycle"  he responds as the doors to his quarters slide open upon their arrival.   

A soft nod comes from his little lover as they lay against him. Their body is exhausted, but their brain isn't willing to shut off. After laying against soundwave for another ten minutes with no luck with falling asleep, they sigh, fidgeting around while trying to get comfortable.

 His vocalizer hums a deep, resonant tone, One digit begins tracing lazy circles on the back, slowly tracing their spinal column, "Systems are monitoring. Please attempt to rest,"  comes another of his recordings.

"Not tired," they whisper while looking up at Soundwave, leaning into his touch, enjoying having him focus on them instead of work. They had both been overrun with work as of recent.

helm tilting minutely as nonverbal concern radiates through his plating.  " Do you require distraction from responsibilities through additional stimuli?"  

They sit up resting on Soundwave's lower torso, hands spread out across the Decepticons chassis. "I am tired, horny and frustrated, soundwave, and with  everything happening, when we get even a small amount of time together, you get called away," they mumble. 

 Soundwave cycles a calm ventilated sigh, processing their words. His field pulses with understanding and care for their concerns. "Your doubts are logical. However, my function is to maximise efficiency of all personnel. A brief interface encounter now could provide valuable recharge. I will ensure we are not disturbed."  His field and plating radiate gentle invitation. 

 A soft gasp escapes their lips as soundwave pulls them further up his body. The Decepticon's digits caressing their body. Leaning in closer, they press their lips to his visor.  A low hum resonates from Soundwave's vocoder. One digit trails tenderly down a flank as another cradles them, holding their form against plating of his chest as a loud purring sound vibrates from him.  

A small squeal leaves their lips as Soundwave discards their clothing quickly with nimble digits. Dimming the lights, Soundwave carefully lowers his battle-mask with a soft hiss, His purple optics glow softly in the darkness, as a talon traces down his lovers form, tracing patterns into their skin.

Leaning close 'til his ex-vents whisper against skin, Pressing a gentle kiss to willing lips in silent promise, he commits this moment to memory. A soft content sigh falls from the human's lips as they kiss him back. It's slightly awkward but neither cares at that moment.

Soundwave runs soft kisses along their neck, chest, and hips as he brings them closer.

At the human's content sigh, gentle pulses from his plating as cooling ex-vents whisper against sensitised skin, his touches trailing softly yet deliberately to relax tense muscles and ease away lingering worries. 

As Soundwave’s glossa finds its way between their legs, soft moans fall from their lips. Small hands move to grip his helm. "Soundwave." At the human's soft calling of his name, Soundwave rumbles acknowledgment against flesh, his servos gripping hips to hold them steady as he runs his glossa across their needy sex. drinking in their essence, committing every hitch of their breath, and fluttered responses to permanent memory files saved only for him. 

As warmth spreads within the human's pliant frame, Soundwave's field surges in adoring pulses, lips, and glossa blessing willing flesh in turn as his devotion shows through electronic hums and tender strokes. Their head rolls back as their back arches, soft whines leaving them with each stroke of Soundwave’s Glossa as it presses into their sweet form. "Soundwave, please," they whine out, their hands attempting to pull the mech's face closer. 

At their breathless plea, Soundwave rumbles acknowledgment, Talons gently part willing thighs as his glossa delves with new focus, oral prehensors savouring each hitching gasp and soft cry his ministrations draw forth. As warmth peaks within the willing human, Soundwave dedicates all sensors to saturating their body. It doesn't take long for them to reach release, so much pent up energy, stress and frustration slips away as they go boneless in the Decepticon's hands. Soft pants leaving their parted lips as soundwave cleans up the mess with his mouth. Gentle affectionate rumbles leave him, field swelling with pulses of devotion and gratitude as he cleans every trace of pleasures with care. His glossa traces tender after-touches as their body goes lax in his hold. 

Optics remain darkened as he simply dedicates sensors to monitoring each slowing ventilation and relaxing muscle, wishing only to ensure their full tranquillity. Soundwave raises his helm to cradled hips,kissing it lightly and nuzzling farewell against flushed skin beneath laboured breaths, inhaling the musk of their sex and skin. 

A final hum resounds through his plating, and powerful yet delicate digits stroke through human hair with utmost care. his array's interface plaque shifts aside, hisses open and pressurises his spike.Optics flare softly to gaze upon at his lover's relaxed features. Secured in cradling servos and pulsing field, the human's lax yet willing frame I'd slowly pressed against his body, content simply to maintain sensory contact,

soft whines fall From his human's lips, as they take him in their body stretching with a loud moan. A few soft thrusts are all it takes for Soundwave to settle into them, cradling their body close, At his lovers soft sounds of pleasure, Soundwave rumbles gentle reciprocation, cradling their sated form securely against his form with one arm as his other arm retrieves a datapad

Ever once in a while his optics flicker down to monitoring his partner's relaxation even as his digits skillfully operate the pad's controls. Data streams across the display - ship schematics, translation algorithms, delicate encryption sequences - yet his true focus remains solely on the human resting atop his array. 

Here in isolated peace, all doubts dissolve. His frame supports theirs. Tired eyes slowly drift closer as soft breath even out, indicating they had fallen asleep, small hands are spread out across his chassis, their body moving slightly with each breath they take. This was true contentment. At the human's soft, steady ex-vents and relaxing muscles, Soundwave's field cycles in waves of tranquil pulsations, a digit gently strokes their hair, back and shoulders as his embrace holds them securely. 

“rest well little one” his voice mumbles softly for no one to hear but himself. 

[loisinherlane]

If You Like Kon-El...

You'll Love Johnny Storm!

AKA welcome to the Kon -> Johnny Pipeline Propaganda. Designed primarily for @mamawasatesttube because I've been bugging them forever but also applicable to all Kon lovers because. Well.

Just look at them.

So to start off, a brief overview of each character's history to highlight their similarities. As this is directed at Kon fans, let's start with Kon:

Created by Cadmus Labs as a replacement Superman, the Kid (later named Superboy and eventually Kon-El) is set free and immediately becomes a menace young hero trying to make his way in the world. At his debut, Kon is physically and mentally fifteen years old and chronologically born yesterday. He knows no life outside of the limelight and being a hero. He's naive but open-hearted, wanting to believe the best in everyone. He's also kind of a huge nerd. Notable moments of manipulation (whether regarded so by canon or not) include his sleezy, money-grubbing manager Rex Leech; his first girlfriend, Tana Moon, who is in her twenties when they're together; and later his relationship with Knockout, a villain who is also an adult. Kon develops in many ways across the years with many fans noting episodes of perceived compulsory heterosexuality with love interests in Cassandra Cain (briefly, after which they both choose to remain friends only) and Cassandra Sandsmark (who has her own comphet issues), as well as hints of attraction to other characters such as Tim Drake and Bart Allen.

Similarly, Johnny Storm debuts at sixteen. He is the youngest member of the Fantastic Four, still in high school, and initially, he has a secret identity (that's not so secret to anyone) in the hopes of being able to keep a normal life. This is swiftly dropped as Johhny grows up. Johnny has a series of romances which have been analyzed under the lens of comphet many times over (and we'll get to that in a bit). There is a notable shift in Johnny's characterization from naive romantic after his marriage to Lyja, a Skrull who disguises herself as family friend Alicia Masters and coerces Johnny into a long-term relationship. After her true identity is revealed, she repeatedly stalks, threatens, and abuses Johnny in the hopes of renewing their relationship. (In mainline canon, this is never successful, and Johnny is always very clear that he wants nothing to do with her.) Afterwards, Johnny becomes very motivated to be in the spotlight and has multiple short-lived relationships with women which never pan out, along with other hints that Johnny may be gay (including an implied sexual relationship with Daken/Akihiro).

To explain why people who love Kon would love Johnny, I'm going to break it down now step by step.

Child Star

Kon and Johnny are both heavily in the spotlight from a young age. While these happen very differently, in that Kon is born in the spotlight and Johnny is thrust into it, the dynamics of being under such scrutiny both create a Lot of image issues.

2. Powers that Require Immense Control

Kon, of course, has his TTK. And Kon is good at using his TTK.

Meanwhile, Johnny's powers of flames also require that he constantly monitors his temperature and how he interacts with his environment. Similar to Kon's easygoing demeanor, Johnny does not let on to anyone how hard he works... something his sister only discovers after their power swap.

3. Manipulative "Love" Interests

As described before, Kon and Johnny both have... disturbing relationships which are not acknowledged fully within canon. Kon, of course, has relationships with two adult women with very little scrutiny about how they were grooming him.

Meanwhile, Johnny has his "marriage" to Lyja, when he thought he was married to someone else. Unlike Kon, Johnny does not want Lyja back.

But still. Interesting parallels.

4. Queercoding

Kon has his relationships with Cassie and Cass, both of which could be analyzed in more detail, but I'll keep it simple here. This does not look like a boy who wants to kiss this girl.

And of course Johnny has multiple scenes where he's uncomfortable with women kissing him.

And... these are actually weirdly similar scenes. Composition-wise.

Really, though, I think there's stronger parallels overall between TimKon and SpideyTorch.

And this is almost a subpoint to this, but Kon being obsessed with wanting to see Robin's face without the mask and Johnny being so mad when Peter erases his knowledge of his secret identity.

5. Underestimated Intelligence

This is a minor one, but both Kon and Johnny are portrayed as not being particularly smart at times for reasons that have... various validity. (More so for Johnny, but this is more about it makes sense for Johnny to think he's not smart.)

6. Nerds

They're just nerds. What can I say?

And, you know, fun that they both like Buffy/Wendy.

7. Guns

This isn't really a parallel, but. Guns.

8. And Last But Not Least... Dying <3

Because I'm running out of panels I can show, I won't go into detail here, but they both have deaths that have a lot fun in the narrative to me... And that's all I will say.

In conclusion: These two are cute, and you should love both of them. Please read F4 for Johnny.

[cardboardmoon]

Oh lord the chaos would only get worse when the triplets are born!! Specifically: Hashtag.

Soundwave is getting increasingly frustrated because someone keeps hacking into the nemesis computer… and sending him memes. He is baffled beyond comprehension and increasingly frustrated because he can’t figure out who it is. Who are you. How are you doing that. Why are you not trying to steal information. Can you stop sending him the ‘never gonna give you up’ human.

Assuming the kiddos are born when Starscream is off on his own, Hashtag comes home one day (Ratchet does not remember teaching her how to use the groundbridge. Who taught her how to use the groundbridge. MIKO!), and she excitedly tells her siblings about her new shiny and sarcastic friend. No one knows how the hell she found Starscream but no one is happy about it. (Star doesn’t know where this newspark came from, who lost their progeny?! And can he keep them? He’s lonely)

Knockout keeps finding her in drive in theaters. He’s just happy to have someone to talk about horror films to (breakdown won’t watch them anymore, he doesn’t like seeing Squishie’s insides).

Optimus and Ratchet are getting the mother of all headaches. Hashtag please… stop…

QBWVEGEGWJBQVEGWH this is amazing

Hashtag would screw with the Nemesis so much. But like. For fun. When Ratchet and Optimus find out that she’s been hacking the enemy for weeks to send memes they’re gonna lose their minds. How the hell did you achieve this. How the hell is Soundwave not tracing you. They’re going to kill you when they find out. WHY. MEMES. The processor aches that day will be legendary

Bonus points: Since it’s 2011, one day Megatron walks into the bridge to yell about someone blasting the shitty human song “Crazy Frog” on the comm system. He finds Soundwave and the vehicons loosing their shit and all the monitors frozen on this image:

[theatrepup]

Cute interview from Fabulous magazine about Brian Jones and Bill Wyman on Ready Steady Go:

"‘Hi Vicki’—a mop of pale hair with a guitar in its hand and a beautiful deep vented sports jacket ambles by, disguised as Brian Jones. ‘When are we on?’

‘You’re doing the Amateur Disc Jockey spot with Bill,’ I tell him. ‘What about choosing a record?’

Brian chews his thumb for a few minutes. ‘I know a knockout. Rag Doll by The Four Seasons. It was No. 1 in America when we were there. Or, what about The Beach Boys? We met them over there! All went to a party—wow! I hope they come over.’ He chews his thumb again. ‘Did we tell you Phil Spector came to our recording session in Chicago? You know Ronnie. The Ronettes’ head singer? Well, Phil’s recorded her solo and she’s got her own record out. Calls herself Veronica.’

We ramble on. ‘Could have the Ronettes new record? Good sound. Muddy Waters and Chuck Berry dropped in to see us. Nobody but us took any notice of them. We were knocked out.’

The director calls the boys for a run through. They start—all peering into the two monitors in front of them and pulling insane faces every time they are on close-up.

‘You look luvverly, dear,’ says Bill to Brian. He’s completely submerged in hair, don’t know how he knows it’s him!” ;D

--Vicki Wickham, Fabulous magazine

[techhiz]

part 1, part 2

Faded Spark (?)

Months had passed since Y/N’s death, but for Knockout, the pain felt as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. Every time he entered the medbay, he was struck by the haunting memory of her lifeless frame on the table. No matter how much Breakdown tried to help him cope, the guilt and grief remained like a shadow he couldn’t escape.

Meanwhile, at the Autobot base, life had resumed its usual rhythm—until a strange signal disrupted their routine.

“Optimus, we’re receiving a faint distress signal,” Raf reported, his fingers flying across the keyboard. The signal was weak, barely holding together, but it was enough to catch the Autobots’ attention.

“Can you pinpoint its location, Rafael?” Optimus asked, his deep voice calm but laced with urgency.

Raf nodded. “It’s coming from about ten miles outside Jasper. Looks like... a Cybertronian life signal. Barely hanging on.”

The room went silent for a moment.

“A Cybertronian? Out here?” Arcee questioned, narrowing her optics. “Could be a trap.”

“Or someone in trouble,” Bulkhead countered, his tone serious.

Optimus considered for a moment before turning to the team. “Arcee, Bumblebee, Bulkhead—investigate the source of the signal. Exercise caution, but if someone requires aid, we will not turn our backs on them.”

The Autobots transformed and rolled out, leaving Ratchet and the others behind to monitor the situation from the base.

The source of the signal led them to a small ravine, where they found the broken frame of a Cybertronian lying half-buried in the dirt. The bot was barely recognizable at first—missing an arm, one optic dark, and their side leaking faint traces of energon.

“Primus...” Bulkhead muttered as they approached. “Whoever they are, they’ve been through the Pit.”

Arcee crouched down to get a better look, her optics widening as she realized something. “Wait... this can’t be. This is—”

“Y/N,” Bumblebee beeped, his tone equal parts shock and disbelief.

The name struck them like a thunderclap. Y/N was supposed to be dead. The Decepticons had been mourning her for months, and yet, here she was—alive, but barely.

“She’s still online,” Arcee said, placing two fingers to the side of Y/N’s helm. “But just barely. We need to get her to Ratchet, now.”

Without hesitation, Bulkhead gently lifted Y/N’s broken frame and carried her back to the GroundBridge.

“By the AllSpark...” Ratchet breathed as the team arrived with Y/N. He immediately cleared a berth and gestured for Bulkhead to lay her down. “I thought she was dead!”

“We all did,” Arcee said grimly, watching as Ratchet began to work on her injuries. “But here she is. Somehow.”

Ratchet quickly assessed the extent of Y/N’s damage. Her frame was still in critical condition, but it was clear that someone had tried to stabilize her wounds before abandoning her. The patchwork repairs were crude—likely done in haste—but they had been enough to keep her alive.

“Her injuries are consistent with what Knockout described months ago,” Ratchet muttered as he worked. “Missing arm, optic damage, energon loss... It’s as if time stopped for her.”

“Can you save her?” Bumblebee asked, his tone pleading.

Ratchet’s optics softened as he glanced at the young scout. “I’ll do everything I can, Bumblebee. But her condition is precarious. She’ll need time to recover, even if I succeed.”

The Autobots watched in tense silence as Ratchet worked tirelessly to stabilize Y/N. After what felt like hours, the medic finally stepped back, his frame slumping slightly from exhaustion.

“She’ll survive,” Ratchet said at last. “But she’ll need rest and energon to regain her strength.”

Days passed, and Y/N began to show signs of improvement. Her remaining optic flickered weakly as she regained consciousness, but she remained quiet and disoriented. The Autobots were careful not to overwhelm her, giving her space to process her surroundings.

But as Y/N’s condition improved, a difficult question arose: should they inform Knockout and the Decepticons about her survival?

“I’m not sure how I feel about this,” Bulkhead admitted during a private discussion in the main room. “I mean, she’s Knockout’s sister. He has a right to know she’s alive.”

“And what happens if we tell him?” Arcee countered. “He’s a Decepticon, Bulkhead. If he knows we have her, he might use it as an excuse to attack us—or worse, take her back to Megatron.”

“Y/N was never really a fighter,” Bumblebee interjected, his beeps soft and thoughtful. “I don’t think she’d want to go back to that life.”

“Regardless of what she wants, it’s her choice,” Ratchet said, his tone firm. “She’s not a prisoner here, and we are not her captors. But we can’t make this decision for her.”

Optimus, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. “The question is not whether we should inform Knockout, but whether Y/N wishes for us to do so. When she is ready, we will ask her. Until then, we will respect her autonomy.”

The Autobots nodded in agreement, though unease still lingered among the group.

As the days went on, Y/N grew stronger, and with that strength came clarity. She began to interact more with the Autobots, listening to their stories and learning about their lives. Though she still carried the scars—both physical and emotional—of her time with the Decepticons, she found a strange sense of comfort among her new companions.

One evening, as she sat quietly in the medbay, Ratchet approached her. He hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Y/N,” he began gently, “there’s something we need to discuss.”

She turned to him, her optic dim but focused. “What is it?”

Ratchet sighed, leaning against the edge of the berth. “Your brother... Knockout. He believes you’re dead. We’ve been debating whether to inform him of your survival.”

Y/N’s expression flickered with pain at the mention of Knockout. She hadn’t forgotten her brother—not for a moment. Despite everything, she still loved him. But the thought of returning to the Decepticons filled her with dread.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to face him,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “He... he’d never forgive me if I stayed here. But I can’t go back to that life, Ratchet. I can’t.”

Ratchet nodded slowly, his optics filled with understanding. “You don’t have to make a decision right away. But know that whatever you choose, we’ll support you.”

Y/N managed a faint smile, her spark warming at the kindness in his words. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she had a choice—a chance to rebuild her life on her own terms.

The decision wasn’t easy, but she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t the same bot who had left the Nemesis all those months ago.

And perhaps, in time, she could find a way to bridge the gap between her past and her future.

The year that followed Y/N's arrival at the Autobot base had been one of healing, growth, and transformation. Under the Autobots' guidance, she slowly regained her strength and found a new purpose. No longer the fragile and broken bot they had rescued, Y/N had embraced the Autobot cause, using her experiences to fight for a better future.

Her bond with her new allies had grown strong, especially with Bumblebee and Bulkhead, who treated her like a little sister. Though her frame still bore the scars of her time with the Decepticons, she carried herself with newfound confidence, wielding her past like armor.

But one thing she couldn’t shake was the memory of her twin brother, Knockout. Despite all the pain and suffering, she still missed him—his charm, his arrogance, the way he always managed to make her laugh. She often wondered if he’d moved on, if he’d forgiven himself for what had happened.

Unbeknownst to her, she was about to find out.

The Decepticons had launched a surprise assault on a remote Energon mine, and the Autobots had deployed to stop them. The battlefield was chaos—a flurry of blaster fire, clashing blades, and the deafening roar of explosions.

Y/N fought alongside her new family, her movements fluid and precise as she defended Bulkhead from a pair of Vehicons. Her optic narrowed as she brought her blade down on one, sending it crashing to the ground before turning to block the other’s attack.

“Nice work, Y/N!” Bulkhead shouted, smashing another Vehicon with his wrecking ball.

“Don’t get cocky, Bulkhead!” she called back, her voice carrying a teasing edge. “We’re not done yet!”

But as the battle raged on, a flash of crimson caught her optic, and her spark skipped a beat. There, amidst the chaos, was Knockout. He stood near the far edge of the battlefield, his polished frame glinting in the dim light of the mine.

He hadn’t seen her yet.

Her grip on her weapon tightened as conflicting emotions surged through her spark—relief, guilt, fear. For a moment, the battlefield seemed to fade away, and all she could see was her brother.

Knockout was in his element, darting around the battlefield with his usual flair. He didn’t relish combat, but when necessary, he made sure to leave an impression.

“Breakdown, watch your six!” he called out, firing a shot that sent an Autobot stumbling back.

“Got it!” Breakdown shouted, slamming his hammer into the ground and creating a shockwave.

But as Knockout moved to cover his partner, his optics caught something that made him freeze in place.

There, fighting alongside the Autobots, was a frame he knew better than his own.

“Y/N?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

It couldn’t be. She was dead. He’d seen her lifeless frame, held her cooling hand. And yet, there she was—alive and fighting.

For a moment, he forgot about the battle entirely. His optics locked onto her, scanning every detail of her frame. The scars, the missing optic, the arm she’d lost—all of it was still there. It was her.

“Y/N!” he shouted, his voice breaking with a mix of disbelief and desperation.

Y/N heard his voice and turned, her optic meeting his. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they stared at each other, the distance between them feeling both infinite and insignificant.

“Knockout...” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Before she could say anything else, another explosion rocked the battlefield, forcing them both to take cover. When the dust settled, Knockout was already running toward her, his expression a mixture of joy and anguish.

“What—what are you doing here?” he demanded, stopping just short of her. His optics roamed over her, as if he couldn’t believe she was real. “You’re supposed to be dead! I... I thought I lost you!”

“I thought I lost myself,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft but steady. “But I survived, Knockout. The Autobots saved me.”

Knockout’s expression shifted, his optics narrowing. “The Autobots? You’re... with them now?”

“They gave me a second chance,” she said, stepping closer. “A chance to fight for something better. I couldn’t go back, Knockout. I couldn’t.”

Before Knockout could respond, Breakdown’s voice cut through the moment.

“Knockout! Behind you!”

Knockout turned just in time to see an Autobot charging toward him. He raised his weapon, but Y/N was faster. She leapt between them, blocking the attack with her blade.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Knockout shouted, his voice filled with panic.

“Protecting you!” she snapped, pushing the Autobot back.

The fight escalated as more bots joined the fray, and Y/N found herself caught between her old family and her new one. She fought desperately to keep Knockout safe while fending off attacks from both sides, her spark aching with every strike.

“Y/N, stop this!” Knockout pleaded, his voice breaking. “Come back with me! We can fix this—we can fix everything!”

“I can’t,” she said, her optic shimmering with unshed tears. “I can’t go back, Knockout. I belong here now.”

“You belong with me!” he shouted, his voice raw with emotion. “We’re family, Y/N! Don’t do this!”

“I’ll always love you, big brother,” she said, her voice trembling. “But this is my choice.”

As the battle reached its peak, an explosion tore through the mine, sending debris flying in all directions. In the chaos, Y/N was struck by a falling beam, pinning her to the ground.

“Y/N!” Knockout screamed, rushing to her side. He dropped to his knees, frantically trying to lift the beam. “Stay with me! Don’t you dare leave me again!”

Y/N’s frame was battered and broken, but she managed a weak smile. “It’s okay, Knockout,” she whispered. “I’m not leaving. Not this time.”

Before Knockout could respond, Optimus arrived, lifting the beam with ease. He glanced at Knockout but said nothing, his expression heavy with understanding.

“Take her,” Optimus said, his voice firm. “Get her out of here.”

Knockout hesitated, his optics darting between his sister and the battle raging around them. Finally, he nodded, lifting Y/N into his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ve got you, little sister.”

As he carried her away from the battlefield, Y/N rested her helm against his chest, her spark filled with a strange sense of peace.

For the first time in a long while, they were together. And that was all that mattered.

(spoilers: there is going to be a little something for Christmas ;) )

[in1-nutshell]

Hi!!!!! I love your writing <3<3 <3 <3

What about a continuation of the bot buddy with a sonic cream Who is Soundwave's conjux, where he and Megatron find out they're alive?

It was always a matter of time before Buddy would be discovered by the Decepticons...

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy with sonic scream with Megatron and Soundwave finding out they are alive

SFW, Platonic, Slight angst, Romance, Cybertronain reader

TFP

The latest Decepticon ambush hadn’t gone according to plan, no surprise there.

But what surprised many on the Nemesis was the number of audial related injuries and that there were claims that the bot that did this didn’t even touch them.

Megatron had met few bots in his lifetime to be able to do such damage.

But they were all dead.

There had to be another explanation for this.

He had Soundwave dispatch Lazerbeak on the next ambush.

That way they would have a literal bird’s eye view of who was decimating their troops in one blow.

The next ambush was set off and Lazerbeak was sent out.

Now looking through the camera’s lens in the main monitor of the Nemesis everyone has a view of the battle.

Everything seemed normal for the first few minutes.

“Really Lord Megatron. I find this spying a bit excessive. The troops are doing an adequate job in handling the Autobots.”--Starscream

“We will watch until the battle is through.”--Megatron

“Anyways Screamer aren’t you curious to find out who this mysterious bot is?”--Knockout

“I know I am! Wonder who they could be though? Not many of the troops remember how they look like.”--Breakdown

Starscream huffs in annoyance.

Another groundbrigde opens in the battlefield.

“Looks like we’re about to find out.”--Knockout

The figure quickly blended into the crowd, but it was clear that they were fighting fiercely through.

Megatron and Soundwave recognized some of the moves from their days in the arena.

So, the new recruit had some gladiatorial experience.

This would be interesting after all.

It wasn’t until some lucky Vechicon managed to shoot Prime in the leg that their fighting sped up and started towards the Prime.

Lazerbeak started flying closer as the figure picked up the Prime over their shoulder and started running towards some larger boulders and dumped the Prime and ran back to the fight.

“Did—did they just dump Prime behind those boulders?”--Knockout

Soundwave tries to zoom in on the new bot.

The bot took a familiar stance.

An all too familiar stance.

Soundwave was sudden sent back to the last time he saw his Conjunx’s fights. They took their signature stance and decimated their opponent.

Megatron also understood what was about to happen.

“Get Lazerbeak out of the radius.”--Megatron

Soundwave sent out a message to the minicon just as the bot let out the sonic scream.

Lazerbeak shook around as some of the blast reached the minicon.

Soon the shaking stopped and Lazerbeak redirected to the former battlefield.

There was a crater surrounding the bot and dozens of Vechicons sprayed all around.

All the Cons watching had a shocked look on their faces.

“That’s impossible! There is no way a single Autobot could do that!”--Starscream

“Maybe they had a relic we don’t know about.”--Breakdown

“Highly unlikely considering that we’ve been on top of the relic game for some time now.”—Knockout

Starscream straightens his struts and turns to the rest of the Decepticons.

“Well, its clear that we need to ki—”--Starscream

Megatron slams his servo on the desk.

Silence.

“Tell Lazerbeak to enhance the bot on screen.”--Megatron

There is a zoom in on the bot who was helping Optimus back on his pedes.

The other Autobots had arrived and were starting to head back into their groundbridge.

Lazerbeak managed to snap a picture of the bot before they went in.

Megatron has a good look before turning to the other Decepticons.

“This bot is to be brought to me alive.”—Megatron

A lot of the Cons look scared and confused.

“Lord Megatron, surely you are not—”--Starscream

“Did I stutter Starscream? I believe not. You are all dismissed.”--Megatron

Megatron and Soundwave slowly looked at each other.

There was only one bot they knew that was able to do that.

But they were dead…

Right…?

Megatron stood up straightening his back struts at the realization.

Soundwave remained frozen in place.

Megatron moved to his third in Command and placed a servo on his shoulder while the frozen picture of Buddy’s frame was on the monitor.

“Its them Soundwave, I’m sure of it.”--Megatron

Soundwave doesn’t move from the monitor, just staring at the frozen frame.

Megatron turns back to the door.

“We will get them back Soundwave. That is a promise.”--Megatron

Megatron moves out of the room leaving Soundwave alone.

The only thought in his processor was that his Conjunx Endura was alive.

His Buddy was alive.

[playedcrowd5610]

Operation: Payback - Danny Phantom x Transformers Prime

Summary: Danny and Knockout team up to get some payback.

---

Set in a series where Danny finds Starscream one day and decides to start haunting the Decepticons. That's basically all the context you need but if you want more here is the rest of the series:

Haunting the Nemesis

Part 1: Chasing Stars

Part 2: Burning Rubber

Part 3: Adventures of the Decepticons' Pet Ghost Or Tumblr Master List

-

Notes:

This chapter is a little darker than my other ones; viewer discretion is advised.

TW: Threats, injury, mentions of experimentation and torture.

-

Danny shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked down the halls of the Nemesis on the way to the medbay. It's been a couple of days since the event with Breakdown and M.E.C.H., and Danny had taken every available opportunity to visit the blue Con — that is, at least, when Knockout hadn’t decided to put a ban on visitors and put his husband in power down to get more rest and heal. 

The door to the med bay slid open easily for him. He stopped in the entryway and glanced around the room. On the medical table, Breakdown was deep in recharge. Danny looked up at the readings on the monitor to make sure he was stable before glancing around the rest of the room. Knockout wasn’t here.

“Knockout?” he whisper yelled, not wanting to wake Breakdown, but there was no response.

Danny frowned. It wasn’t like Knockout to leave Breakdown unattended, not with how he’d been acting since the injury. He had been constantly checking readings, tweaking equipment, doing anything he could to keep his processor busy. 

Danny tapped his foot on the ground as he was thinking. Breakdown was asleep, so Danny couldn’t really hang out with him anyway. And right now, Danny was more concerned as to where Knockout could be and what was so much more important than Breakdown. He sighed deeply before turning on his heel out the door. Time to find himself a Decepticon Medic.

-

It didn’t take too much searching to locate the red sports car. Danny found him in a research hub-type room with a small desk and large monitor just a few doors down from the Med Bay. It seemed the Con still wanted to be close to Breakdown after all. 

Knockout, hunched over one of the terminals, had his optics fixed on the screen, completely engrossed in whatever he was doing. 

Danny stepped forward, curious about what had captured the medic’s attention. “What are you doing?”

Knockout’s servos twitched, but he didn’t jump. “Must you always sneak up on me like that?” He muttered, his tone sharp. His optics flickered briefly down to Danny before he returned his gaze to the screen.

Danny tilted his head, stepping beside Knockout to get a better look at what was on the terminal. “What’s this?” 

Knockout sighed heavily, leaning back slightly as his field pulsed with a mix of frustration and something… darker . “I’ve been working on tracking down the human scientists responsible for Breakdown’s condition.” His voice was laced with bitterness, and he gestured toward the screen. “I think I’ve found something—a warehouse they may be hiding in.” He gestured vaguely towards the screen.

Danny crossed his arms, not liking where this was going one bit. Knockout wanted revenge, and he was going to get himself hurt in the process. “And what, you’re just going to go down there? Alone?”

Knockout’s optics narrowed. “Of course I’m going down there,” he growled, his EM field flared with pure hatred. “They took him apart. They nearly killed him. I won’t rest until they’re nothing but scrap.”

Danny’s field mimicked the sentiment. But he needed to keep a level head here. Someone had to. “Knockout, you’re going to get yourself killed. If they can take down Breakdown, they can take you down, too.”

Knockout’s engine growled in irritation. “I’m not Breakdown. I’m faster, smaller, more precise. I know how to fight them now. They ambushed Breakdown when he was hurt. If they had fought him head-on, they would have lost. I won’t make the same mistakes.” He glared at Danny as if he was the source of his problems. “And I’m not staying here while those humans walk away unpunished.”

Danny let out a long sigh, shaking his head. “Alright, then.” Danny stretched his arms over his head. “I guess I’m going with you.”

Knockout blinked, his optics flickering with confusion. “What? No. You’re not. You’ll get yourself killed down there, human.”

Danny shrugged, his voice calm but firm. “If you’re going, I’m going. I’m not going to let you get yourself torn apart. Besides, what good are you to Breakdown if you end up dissected in some lab, too?”

Knockout scoffed, his tone bitter. “And what makes you think you’d be any help? You’re fragile.”

Danny sighed. “If I’m there, I can make sure you don’t get yourself killed. Plus,” he added, “I’d hate to be the one to tell Breakdown that his husband died trying to defend his honour.” He looked up at the medic with a raised eyebrow. 

Knockout said nothing, just glared, but Danny could sense the conflict in him. “And maybe,” Danny continued, “I want to get some payback too.”

Knockout’s optics softened slightly. “You’re either very brave or very foolish.”

Danny grinned, “Probably both.”

–

Danny and Knockout stepped through the groundbridge, the swirling green portal spitting them out at the edge of a dense forest. The trees surounded them, casting shadows as the sun began to set, leaving the air cool and damp. Ahead, just visible through the tree line, was a massive, gray structure that looked to be some kind of old military base. Obviously, the place they were looking for. 

Knockout took a step forward, his bright red frame standing out against the greenery. His optics narrowed as he surveyed the scene. Danny could feel the aggression flowing off of him in waves. Danny bit his lip and looked up at the buzzsaw-happy Con.

"Alright," Danny said, clasping his hands together. "We need to do this with minimum casualties."

Knockout scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest plates. "Minimum casualties? What was the point of coming here then, if not to destroy them?" He asked incredulously, his voice filled with venom. “Im not just going to not hurt them because you care about their lives. Not after what they did,”

Danny sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He had expected this reaction. “Look, as much as I’d love to see them all gone, I need you to trust me. If we kill a bunch of them, it’ll only make things worse.”

“How, exactly?” Knockout snapped, his frustration growing.

“These organizations, ones like M.E.C.H ,” Danny gestured vaguely towards the warehouse. “They get their funding and support by showing their benefactors that there’s a ‘threat’ they need to handle. You kill their soldiers and they’ll have all the proof they need to go to their backers, show the damage, and say, ‘Look, this is why we need more weapons, more experiments, more funding.’ I’ve dealt with groups like this before—"

Danny sighed before continuing. “I’ve learned that the more attention you give them, the more justification they have for their horrible work. We need to  take them out without creating a mess that makes them look like the victims.”

Knockout’s engine rumbled angrily. “So what? We just let them get away with torturing Breakdown?” His field buzzed with indignation.

“No, not exactly,” Danny replied. “What we do instead is this.” He held up a USB stick for the mech to see. ”We upload a virus into their systems. One my friend and I designed years back. It'll destroy everything they’ve got on Breakdown, wipe all their data, and crash their networks. It’ll also let us track their other bases so we can go after them again if we need to. That way, we dismantle them from the inside out.”

 "And here I thought I could at least enjoy dismembering a few of them," Knockout grumbled.

Danny ‘hmmed’ thoughtfully before smiling slightly. “Dismemberment’s still on the table, but they have to survive it.”

Knockout let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “You're impossible.”

Danny grinned. "Just practical." He paused before giving Knockout a serious look. “I’ll be the distraction, take out a few guards quietly, and get us into the building. You stay here, and once I signal you, you come in, make a second distraction, and I’ll handle the tech.”

Knockout grumbled but didn’t argue. He could tell Danny had thought this through. And, as much as he hated to admit it, there was logic in what the human was saying. “Fine,” Knockout relented, his tone dripping with reluctance. “But if you die down there, I won’t feel bad.”

Danny chuckled. “Sure, sure.” He placed a Fenton earpiece into his ear and connected it to the direct comline through his phone to Knockout’s comm. Luckily, after some modifications, he made the large, clunky, bright green thing much more discreet than his parent's design.

Then Danny transformed into his human form in a flash of bright light. Knockout had seen it before, back when they’d gone racing together. The transformation still intrigued the medic, but now wasn’t the time for curiosity.

“Alright,” Danny said, taking a deep breath. “I’ll make sure to be quick. You just make sure you’re ready to do your part when I need you.”

Knockout nodded, but his focus was already on the warehouse. His optics tracked the human guards, watching their movements and patterns. His field buzzed with tension and hatred. He wanted nothing more than to charge in and start tearing things apart, but he waited, trusting—for now—that Danny's plan would work.

–

Danny slipped through the shadows, careful to keep out of sight as he navigated the perimeter of the base. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears, but his movements were swift and deliberate. Just ahead, another guard stood by himself, seemingly focused on a comm unit. 

Danny crept closer, his feet barely making a sound on the gravel, and phased his hand through the back of the guard's head. His fingers tingled as he used a trick he didn’t often employ—sending a light electric pulse through the guard’s neural system. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious but unharmed. Danny stepped over the limp body and continued forward repeating the action with every other guard he came across.

Once he had knocked out the patrolling guards, he didn’t have much time left before someone would notice. He approached the rear entrance to the warehouse. The door was locked, but that didn’t do much against a half-ghost like himself. He phased his hand into the keypad, the lock mechanism sparking momentarily before the door swung open with an eerie creak.

Danny stepped inside, immediately noticing the clipboard on a nearby desk. He snatched it up, tucking it under his arm, and walked in with casual confidence, as if he belonged there. The interior of the warehouse buzzed with activity: techs working on various machines, computers beeping, and soldiers moving crates of equipment. Danny rounded a corner, his breath catching when he spotted a man standing tall at the center of the room, overseeing the operation.

White hair, no mask, smug expression. He didn’t need an introduction. Breakdown spoke enough about the pain caused by this human for Danny to know immediately.

Silas.

The sight of him made Danny’s skin crawl. He clenched his jaw, biting back the snarl that threatened to escape . Danny's mind flashed back to others like Silas—men who thought they could do whatever they wanted to people with no repercussions. The room quieted as several operatives spotted him. Simultaneously, multiple guns raised, with clicks of the safety being turned off, barrels trained on his chest. Danny raised his hands in mock surrender, his voice smooth and nonchalant.

"Hey, hey, guys! What's the problem? I’m just here about the new weapons shipment.” The guards seemed slightly confused. 

“We aren’t expecting a shipment.” One of them called out. 

“I’m with Fenton Tech. We were looking for a new business opportunity, so I was told to come in here and bring you some of the newer models. Don’t shoot me. I’m just the delivery boy.” Danny shrugged. The clipboard is still in his raised hand.

Some lowered their guns slightly, confusion replacing hostility for just a moment. Silas, though, was not so easily swayed. He stepped forward, his icy gaze locking onto Danny. Danny felt the urge to glare back with all the hatred he was feeling. But he knew he couldn't. 

“Fenton Tech?” Silas asked, his voice sharp. “As in the ghost -hunting equipment?”  

Danny froze for half a second but quickly recovered, forcing a cocky grin onto his face. “The one and only. Our gear doesn’t just work on ghosts—it works on robots, too. Figured an organization like yours would be interested. We’ve got a pretty solid track record with the Guys in White if you need references.”

Silas stepped closer, each step deliberate and predatory. Danny fought to keep the false confidence in his stance as Silas moved into his personal space, close enough that Danny could feel the man’s breath. Silas’s smirk was razor-sharp.

"Is that so?" Silas murmured, his tone dripping with skepticism.

Danny tilted his head, trying to keep it light. “Yeah. I mean, hey, it’d be a shame not to use our equipment for something a little more… exciting, right?”

For a tense moment, Danny thought Silas might actually buy it. Then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, Silas turned to his men. “Get him out of here.”

The undertone was clear: kill him .

Danny’s muscles tensed as one of the guards moved in to grab him. Without missing a beat, he twisted, snatching the gun from the man's holster. In the same fluid motion, he phased through the guard’s grip, and fired a shot into the man's knee. The soldier crumpled with a shout, and Danny was already moving, firing two more shots into the legs of the guards nearest him.

The room exploded into chaos. Silas dove behind a wall, pulling out his own gun while the other operatives scrambled, shouting commands as they trained their weapons on Danny. Bullets whizzed past, and Danny ducked behind a large piece of machinery, using it as cover.

“Alright,” Danny muttered into the comm, dodging another hail of bullets. “Officially distracted. You’re up, Paint Job. Come in swinging.”

It didn’t take long before the Decepticon barreled through the main hangar door, sending it flying off its hinges before the agents even registered his presence.

“Doctor in the house,” Knockout quipped, his voice dripping with amusement as he surveyed the chaos. 

Danny groaned, facepalming as he ducked to avoid another spray of bullets. “Really?” He hissed into the Com.

Still, Knockout was the perfect distraction. Now, in full panic, the operatives shifted their focus to the towering mech, firing uselessly at him with regular bullets. They bounced off Knockout’s armour, only leaving a few minor scratches. Danny winced, knowing full well Knockout would complain about that later.

With the agents thoroughly distracted, Danny took his chance. He sprinted toward a nearby computer terminal, weaving between the chaos. He jammed the USB stick into the port and started typing rapidly, the virus already loading into M.E.C.H.'s systems. But before he could finish, searing pain shot through his hand.

A knife had pinned his hand to the keyboard.

Danny hissed in pain, looking up to see Silas standing above him, a smirk on his face.

“I’m not stupid, kid,” Silas said, voice low and dangerous. “I know a distraction when I see one.”

Danny chuckled, though it came out more like a growl. “And here I thought…”

“Save it,” Silas interrupted, stepping closer, his presence menacing. “I’m going to enjoy this. First, we’ll dismantle your little friend over there, piece by piece. You’ll get a front-row seat. Then, once we’re done with him, you’ll be next.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed, core seething in anger, not for himself, but at the thought of them hurting Knockout. "You scientists are all the same. Evil freaks. Torturing innocent people just because you can." His voice dripped with disgust. “You’d kill a newborn if it gave you scientific readings.”

Before Silas could respond, Danny spat in his face, his disgust clear. Silas wiped it off, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. But before he could say anything more, Danny phased his hand through the knife, ignoring the pain as he grabbed the blade by the handle, pulling it out of the terminal.

In an instant, Danny lunged at Silas, tackling him to the ground. He pinned the man beneath him, with the knife at his neck. “You’re going to pay for what you did to Breakdown,” Danny snarled, his voice low and dangerous.

Silas, ever the psychopath, smirked, his voice calm despite the situation. “It was fun, you know. Experimenting on him. Seeing how far I could push…”

Danny’s eyes blazed with green energy, his fury rising. The urge to lash out was overwhelming; he had told Knockout no killing, and now he was getting close to breaking his own rule. Silas focused on Danny’s face. More specifically, Danny's eyes. 

"You're a little scientific marvel yourself, aren't you, kid?" The man chuckled. “I would love to find out what makes you tick.” Danny narrowed his eyes, trying to ignore the comment. But then – his gaze shifted to Silas’s right eye. 

“You know what they say, Silas…” Danny’s voice was almost calm, cold, as he tilted his head slightly. “An eye for an eye, right?”

Silas’s eyes widened, realization dawning just a moment too late. Panic flashed across his face as Danny’s hand phased into his skull. There was no hesitation. With a swift motion, Danny pulled out Silas’s right eye—the same eye that had been taken from Breakdown.

Silas yelled in pain his hands flew up to desperately clutch at his now-empty socket, slick with his own blood.

Danny stood, looming over him. “If you ever hurt someone I care about again,” Danny growled, voice cracking with energy. “I’ll come back, and next time, I’ll drag you to hell myself. Am I clear?”

He turned away, leaving Silas on the floor, Danny’s bleeding hand still gripping the knife. He had more work to do.

Danny sprinted back to the panel, checking the status of the virus—it was done. The screens flickered, and data was rapidly disappearing from M.E.C.H.’s systems, just as planned. Danny yanked the USB out and slipped it into his pocket. The mission was a success.

But as he turned around, his gaze landed on Knockout, and Danny’s stomach churned. Knockout’s servos were smeared with an unsettling amount of blood, more than Danny had expected. He grimaced, his eyes shifting down to his own hands, stained a gory red from both the stab wound and where he’d torn Silas’s eye out. 

I guess that's what you should expect when you bring a Decepticon to a human fight.

Danny stepped over several unconscious—or at least he hoped they were unconscious— M.E.C.H. agents scattered across the floor, most of them sporting burn injuries from Knockout’s electric prod.

“Knockout!” he called up to the towering medic, standing amidst the carnage, his optics still gleaming with a dangerous energy.

Knockout's optics snapped to Danny. He looked almost ready to attack him, but quickly pulled back when he recognized him. As their eyes meet, the whirring of Knockout’s buzzsaw slowed to a stop.

“We’re all good,” Danny said, motioning for him to stop. “Let’s get out of here.”

Knockout hesitated, his optics scanning the room as if debating whether or not to finish off the remaining agents. But after a beat, he nodded begrudgingly. Without a word, he scooped Danny up, carrying him across the room with ease. Danny noticed the way Knockout stepped over the bodies without a second thought.

When they made it outside of the warehouse through the giant hole Knockout had burst through, the Decepticon quickly transformed, and Danny was dropped into the passenger’s seat as Knockout’s engine roared to life. Tires screeched, and they took off down the road.

Knockout remained silent for the drive, and Danny stared at the blood staining his hands. He clenched them into fists, not sure what to feel—satisfaction, guilt, or something else entirely.

-

Knockout and Danny sped through the groundbridge, screeching to a stop inside the Nemesis. Danny stepped out of the vehicle and onto the purple flooring. Knockout transformed back into his root mode, and his optics quickly zeroed in on Danny’s injuries. His hand was still bleeding from where Silas had stabbed it.

“You’ve been shot,” Knockout stated as he gently scooped Danny up to inspect him closer.

Danny winced, looking down at his shoulder and saw a bullet hole through his shirt that he hadn’t noticed before. “Huh. Guess I didn’t feel that one.”

Knockout’s grip tightened as they made their way to the medbay. Danny tried to ignore the fact that he was currently sitting in blood-stained servos. The doors to the medbay slid open, and Breakdown stirred from his recharge, sitting up on the medical berth. His lone optic flickered groggily as he took in the sight of Danny and Knockout, both bloodied and battered.

“What in the Pit happened?” Breakdown asked, his voice thick with confusion and concern.

“We went to visit the people who did that to you,” Danny said, offering a wry smile. “Nice company.”

Knockout smirked, his tone dark as he added, “Their screams were delicious.”

Danny grimaced, but Breakdown’s reaction was immediate. His optic widened in alarm, and he looked between Knockout and Danny, worry written across his face. “You could’ve been hurt!” he snapped at Knockout.

Knockout, at the very least, had the nerve to look chastised. “It was fine… It was worth it.” He said. Knockout placed Danny down on a nearby bench, turning his attention to the human’s wounds. His servo hovered over the injuries for a moment before he sighed and went to one of his shelves. He pulled out a medical kit—the same one left behind after Starscream had brought a human nurse onboard—and handed it to Danny.

“Since you always insist on doing these things yourself,” Knockout muttered, passing the kit to Danny.

Danny nodded, taking the kit without hesitation. “Thanks.” He set to work, patching up his hand and shoulder.

Once he finished wrapping the bandages around his hand, Danny turned to Breakdown with a grin. “Oh, right. Got a gift for you.”

Breakdown tilted his helm, confused, as Danny pulled something from his pocket. He held it up, and Knockout’s optics narrowed when he saw it.

“From Silas,” Danny said. “He sends his love.”

Breakdown stared at the dismembered eye in stunned silence for a moment, then let out a huff of surprised laughter. “Well, ain’t that somethin’. Didn’t expect a souvenir.” Despite the grimness of the situation, there was a flicker of approval in his expression.

Knockout glanced between the two of them, his EM field still humming with the adrenaline from their mission. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think Silas will be bothering us again anytime soon,” he said, a wicked gleam in his optic.

Danny leaned back, finally letting the exhaustion seep into his body. “Good. He deserved a lot worse for what he did to you.” He glanced at Breakdown, his expression softening. “I just thought… you should have something of his. To know we didn’t let him get away with it.”

Breakdown’s optics met Danny’s, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper crossing his face. “Thanks, kid. I appreciate it.”

-

Notes:

A comment from the last chapter inspired me to make a little crack meme animatic. You can watch it here! I'll also post it at the end of this chapter. (lol, yes, it is a bit jarring compared to the chapter content, but it can be a pallet cleanser XD)

[lovinglonerhybrid]

So on there down time some vehicons decide to turn on the little monitor they have attuned to the humans satellite television. There a few dedicated stations they watch but one day there flipping threw channels and they come across this really soothing show with a soft voiced human who makes little pictures in a short amount of time. They watch this show for a while together then one vehicon remembers that knockout has a huge stash of paint aboard that he doesn’t use very often so the vehicon gathers a few friends and raides knockouts paint stash. The vehicons get sheet medal and find some paint brushes and they start following along.soon this turns into a dedicated club with set times for different shifts and those who are injured to know when the next meeting will be. This sets off a bunch of clubs being formed on the nemeses. including knockouts sewing club who makes mech sized clothing. Breakdowns board game club. Which is really just a dnd club at this point. Sound waves gardening club where they grow earth and cybertronion plants. Megatron has no club but he is listed as the only mech in the ploting the demise of my worst enemy club (put there by starscream as a joke). But anywhays the vehicons discover bob ross and that opens up the flood gates of creativity within the ship. Leading the the creation of clubs aboard the nemesis. 

[typewritingyip]

Hi there. ≖‿≖

Oh God, this chap is, muak, tasty, Iwant to eat it.

""Raj, just cause my eyes are closed doesn't mean I can't tell you're there."..., "Hound, you realize how terrifying that is, right?""

I know this is not related to the fragment, but you know what do the suits remind me of? Those dolls that no matter where you are looking at them, they always seem to be looking back at you. Creepy.

"I guess Knockout made his voice heard. Doesn't want to be near you or have Breakdown near you either."

At this point, Hound should sleep with an eye

open.

"Mirage covers his mouth and shakes his head, "Hound, when did you get so funny?" Smiling a bit, he shrugs and starts walking, "Always have been, there have just been translation errors."

Thev are so sweet l'm gonna get caries

"fifteen unnatural deaths"

Uhhh, unnatural deaths can be a lot of things , is it just a number or there are names? I have a few in mind.

"as if Prowl and Soundwave were showering through alien information to know what was happening."

Those two are (or would probably like to be) looked in a dark room, with a bunch of monitors, and will stay there for a maximum of two days, bc I think thats how much it would take to find out what happend. Not bc they are that good team (maybe they are) no, they are just competing on who is the worst workholic. The only ones allowed to enter are those who are worst than them (Red Alert, how is the guy taking this attack? I remember you mentioned him before in an ask)

"I actually wanted to talk to you before you disappeared again." His heart sank."

I actually stopped reading, took a walk around my house, and then came back.

"Smiling, he steps back to admire it, the paint didn't have any of that glitter in it either, though there were apparently ones you could buy with it but he was glad that Bluestreak knew him well enough to not get that."

How long before one of them end up being a shinny ball of glitter that blinds everyone?

"When he'd learned about waxes, he'd bought several while using his suit to scan them for general structure. He'd returned a few rather quickly after smelling them though."

They going back to earth, but Sunstreaker got to attached to his waxes.

The mecha program: what's that?

Sunstreaker: an alien.

He says, pointing at the nearest cybertronian while hiding his brand new wax kit hes definitively not sharing with anyone (especially them)

"having one of the most stunning things in the universe smiling at him like this wasn't painfully awkward"

Awwww, I can just imagine them, now I want to draw them and put it in a wall.

"Wherever this was heading, Hound didn't think it was anywhere good as his heart clenched painfully, "Mirage," "Hound, you've worked your way into my spark without even realizing it."

I actually went outside this time, I get easily nervous ⊂•⊃_⊂•⊃

Of all things that have happend in this fic and this is the one that gets me like this.

"I've saved you in the incredibly short time"

I think that was a good chunk of his life span.

Oh boy, Mirage has yet to discover it.

"The elevator ride was one of the most awkward in his life, both of them shifting around like two teenagers trying to figure out how to speak."

Oh, so they are just like always, just that now one is self conscious.

"He even tilted his head like Hound usually did, "That didn't translate." ..."Love between people with the same build, similar frame, one between mechs or femmes, not one of each." Mirage chuckled slightly, shaking his head a bit, "There aren't enough femmes for that to ever work here."

"I'm not gay!" His throat tightened with the fear, with the hint of a lie, the lie he'd had to uphold for years. Hiding his bi-sexuality."

"Nodding quickly, Mirage still stared, looking around, "Are, are you all this, small?" His face burned, "No, I am just short." They both chuckled weakly."

"So, this is what I didn't know. Is that your organic? Am I missing anything?"

"You said it yourself, the suit is just a further extension of who you are. And I like who you are. You see me."

I love this, oh, god, Mirage is just staring at Hound, while the poor guy is going into a crisis spiral, and just straight up dont understanding, not matter how Howard Hound explains. He's like:

"Hound, honey, have you taken your pills today?"

AND THEN HOUND JUST FLASHES HIM.

And Mirage just, he's just. "Is that all?" Fuck, it would have surprised me if he just went and said "I always knew"

And he's like, "Let me get you to your bed, you need to rest" and then they get into bed and just cuddle bc thats how sweet those two are.

"but we wouldn't be the first to make it work and I doubt we'd be the last."

Someones are being called out. Even if Mirage has ""no""" confirmation.

I love the guy.

"You're ridiculous. Even after all that-?"

Mirage brought his hands down his arms and held his hands carefully, "Especially after all that. Hound, I love you, let that be enough. You're you and I love who you are, even if I still have a lot to discover." He squeezed Hound's hands and Hound squeezed back, even as his heart raced."

Hes just so unfazed by all this, he just wants his boyfriend to accept being his boyfriend.

I loved this, oh girl I loved this chapter. FINALLY THERE IS A CONFESSION. There was so much tension that it could have just exploded by itself.

They are so lovely, and nice, let's hope nothing bad happens to them.

◕ω◕

Thanks for the new chapter! I hope yo do okay this night and take care <3

Hi! I love answering these, it’s great. Alright, going through em’!

Lmao, that’s actually pretty funny.

He will probably stick with sleeping in his cockpit again, poor guy.

Ah, the sweet joy of Knowing you typed this while exhausted, “They are so sweet I’m gonna get caries.” Cavities?

Just not old age deaths effectively, and 15 is a pretty small number.

(It was meant to be scouring… ;-; ) Oh yeah, they are hard at work, trying to find information before the other does. Very competitive.

HEHEHEHEHE

Uh, honestly, not long lmao. Pranks in-bound.

I mean, pretty much. Dude found something that helps keep him calm and that his giant boyfriend loves? It’s a win win.

I feel this, if I could draw at all, I would draw that scene for sure. (Somebody, please)

HEHEHEHEHEHEH

Mirage knows that Hound’s life is short, maybe not how short, but short.

Normally, they can hang off each other, Hound just realized that it wasn’t like his bros back home.

Oh believe me, Mirage is freaking the fuck out inside. He know’s he’s made his fair share of off hand comments about Organics. TO HOUND even. So, he has to play it cool and apologize every chance he gets cause Hound can see him.. and that’s all that matters.

Yeah, hehehe

Pretty much.

I am so glad that this confession didn’t feel rushed! (Me saying that after 48 chapters) I knew I wanted them to be the first “official” pairing, even though Sunny and Blue are basically official. Both of those two are too awkward to just say, yeah.

They are lovely! I love them.