#yeah the autobots but they lost their spark along the way

[i-mean-technically]

Thinking more on the tfa au and like.

TFA and names.

Names are interesting bc they're given in boot camp with the Autobots, which has some BAD connotations, especially bc of how totalitarian it is there. But that's post war. Meaning that this was something that changed either during or after the war.

But focusing on The Boys(tm) and how they got their names in this AU.

Optimus, a play on optimist. Either praising or making fun. And I think that Kup gave Op his name, so it was a gift instead of a belittlement.

Sentinel, a guardian. Again, praising or making fun? We see in the show that Senti is VERY paranoid and high strung, his anxiety is well hidden but there. I think his was meant as an insult. Which ofc is a blow to his ego.

Lets play around with Elita too.

Elita, elite. If she wasn't the top of the class then she was close. Elite means best of the best.

From the beginning they were singled out in some way. Op named lovingly by a war hero, Senti made fun of for a mental health condition, and Elita named to show everyone that she's clearly better than everyone else just like Ultra.

Names have power. To give.

Or to take.

What did their names take from them?

@transingthoseformers i'm going crazy with the world building already help

[lifetimeshipper]

New Life, New Obstacles

Chapter 4

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

"Any particular reason you wanted me to go on a patrol with you, Lieutenant?" Steeljaw asked as they drove away from the scrapyard.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About you and Strongarm."

"We have quite the drive ahead of us, start talking then."

"Are your feelings true?"

"Yes, I would never do anything to hurt her. Which is why I haven't attacked you yet, or the others, save for Sideswipe. I know how close she is with all of you and I'm willing to give it a chance to try to get along with the rest of you."

"Yes, I kind of figured, it's good you care for her so. When did you start falling for her though?"

"After I arrived at the scrapyard after I freed the others," he replied.

"You mean after you fought her you fell in love with her?"

"I think that was when I realized it. But I think I had liked her since our first encounter."

"And how did your first encounter go? She never really did tell me what happened."

"I tricked her into thinking I was an Autobot guard aboard the Alchemor," he replied, not wanting to give him the full details of their encounter.

"I see. What else?"

After a moment of silence, Steeljaw ended up telling Bumblebee the whole story. Something about him commanded respect, even though he was a young leader he knew what he was doing.

"I see. Surprised she even got feelings for you after that. And what about her made you like her even though she was an Autobot?"

"I'm still not sure, maybe it was the way she handled herself against me or the way she carries herself. She's strong, and she's willing to fight for what she believes is right."

"As does the rest of us but you still hate and despise us." Steeljaw was silent, he didn't know how to respond to that. "So, is that the reason you started falling in love with her after your fight?" Bumblebee continues after noticing his silence.

"I think so, after the scrapyard, I couldn't stop thinking about her and I just wanted to see her again."

"Is she the reason for your sudden change of plans?"

"Yeah."

"Thank goodness I sent her back to the scrapyard then or else you probably would have never fallen in love with her and you would have stuck to your plans, you would be in stasis with the rest right now."

"Don't expect me to thank you for that."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Have you and Strongarm been secretly seeing each other since the scrapyard incident?"

"Yes, Metalsound took it upon herself to look after Strongarm after her fight with Springload."

"So that's the main reason why she was there. Had you always planned to make Strongarm your mate?"

"Not exactly, but it just happened."

"You do know you took a lot from her with that, right?"

"I know."

"But then she knew what can happen if she has an affair with a criminal and she did it anyway, and I can tell she loves you. Which is why I didn't put you in stasis with the rest but instead put you on probation and do community service."

"Was that all?"

"What was the whole deal with you kidnapping her?"

"You said that I would never see her again, except on the battlefield."

"So you decided to kidnap her?"

"I panicked alright!"

"Why didn't you tell her she would become your mate by having sex?"

"I didn't think about it," Steeljaw was starting to get annoyed. Was Bumblebee intentionally trying to get him riled up?

"What makes Strongarm different from the other femmes you sweet-talked then left breaking their sparks?" Steeljaw's tires screeched as he skidded to a halt. Bumblebee skidded to a halt as well, "Why are you stopping, Steeljaw?"

"Just stop! I don't know why she's different from those other femmes, she just is! She makes me feel like I'm not alone," he says the last part quietly as he drives on.

Bumblebee drives on as well, "Not alone?"

"Ever since I lost my parents it felt like something was missing deep in my spark. Even though Shockwave took care of me I still felt... incomplete. Having the pack helped fill the emptiness but it was still there. Being with Strongarm, I don't feel like I'm alone anymore."

"I see. Wait, you lost your parents? How?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I understand. Sorry for all these questions, I'm just making sure you're serious about your relationship with Strongarm. I don't want to see her get hurt because of you."

"I will never hurt Strongarm, my spark will always belong to her alone."

"Good, because if you do not only will you have to deal with her but you'll have to deal with me and the whole team as well as her sire."

"Understood," Steeljaw says as he speeds up a bit to drive on ahead wanting to be with Strongarm more than he ever had.

They drive on and finish their patrol before heading back to the scrapyard. They make it back to the scrapyard and see Metalsound and Sideswipe back already.

Steeljaw sees Sideswipe hugging Strongarm while Metalsound stands there watching them. Slowly letting go of Strongarm, Sideswipe heard the sound of gears moving from a transformation. Seeing Steeljaw just at the scrapyard's gate he ran for his life only to be stopped by Thunderhoof. "If you start running he's going to kill you," Metalsound warned.

"And I'm dead if I don't run," he whimpered.

They see Steeljaw walking over with an angry look on his face, looking like he's ready to kill a certain bot. Strongarm blocked his path as she quickly explained, "Steeljaw, Sideswipe was just apologizing for earlier. Nothing happened."

Steeljaw looks at her, "Just apologizing?"

"Yes."

"Alright, so where's my apology?" He asks as he looks back at Sideswipe.

"I'm sorry," Sideswipe says quietly.

"I didn't hear you."

"I'm sorry for kissing Strongarm!"

"Just don't do it again, don't even touch her," he says with a slight growl.

"Got it," he squeaked.

"Good!" His attention turns back to Strongarm when he feels her wrap her arms around him.

"Don't worry about it, Steeljaw."

Thunderhoof let go of Sideswipe who bolted for the other side of the scrapyard, "That kid's jumpier than Clampdown," he muttered.

"Can't really blame him, he did infuriate a Wolf-Con," Bumblebee says as he walks over.

"It's going to take him a while to get comfortable around Steeljaw," Thunderhoof stated, "Is there anything else you wanted us to do?"

"Not right now, just relax," Bumblebee replies before walking over to Steeljaw and Strongarm. "Strongarm, can I talk to you?"

"Sure," she followed after the lieutenant.

They went to the other side of the scrapyard away from the others, "Strongarm, the reason I wanted Steeljaw to go on patrol with me was that I had some questions to ask him, I had to be sure his feelings were true."

"I had a feeling that's what you were doing. Did you find your answers?"

"Yes." He proceeds to tell her everything he and Steeljaw discussed.

Steeljaw was standing in the spot he had been, watching them when Metalsound came up beside him. "Is everything okay?" She asked in concern.

"Just wondering what he's telling her."

"Instead of standing here go and see for yourself," Metalsound replied as she left to do the exercise she had meant to do that morning.

Steeljaw started walking over to them and Strongarm smiled at him, "How was your patrol?" Strongarm asked Steeljaw after he got to where they were.

"Good," Steeljaw replied.

"Bumblebee told me about your discussion, and everything you said."

"He did?"

"Yep," she says as she starts walking away.

"Strongarm, wait," he called after her as he followed her.

"Yes?" She asks as she stops and looks at him.

Steeljaw opened his mouth but he wasn't sure of what to say, "Would you like to go for a drive?"

"Sure," she replies with a smile. She transforms and gets ready to roll. With a sigh, he transformed and headed out, not really caring where they went, and Strongarm followed right behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1

Next Chapter

[erimeows]

Intervention, Baby

Unlike many of his Autobot counterparts, Prowl adored organics- especially the ones on earth, whether that be the plants, animals, or humans.

His favorite, though? You. You by far. 

After arriving on earth, Prowl had become obsessed with people watching, usually taking long strolls around the city or going to public parks to watch how humans lived their daily lives. Something about the human species by itself was captivating, but when he’d seen you for the first time, (e/c) eyes and (h/l) (h/c) hair shining under the bright sun as you walked into the local flower shop, he had been completely and utterly enthralled. He’d known that he was supposed to avoid interactions with humans that weren’t necessary according to Prime, but he hadn’t been able to help himself that day. So, he’d gone into the flower shop and sparked a conversation with you to figure out exactly what it was that had him so interested; what it was about you that was so different than the other humans he watched.

You had just moved to Detroit from your hometown for a new job, which explained why he hadn’t seen you before that, and as he’d talked to you that day, he became more and more intrigued. You’d started renting a house nearby, with your very own flower garden, which you showed him that day. He hadn’t been able to tell you much at the time about Cybertron for security reasons, but what he did tell you about himself, you listened to intently. You were a great listener, with kind eyes and a bright smile that made his spark stop at times.

Prowl had been a cautious bot. Whatever caution he had maintained since being on earth had flown out the window with you, though, as he fell quickly, often sneaking away from the Autobots to spend time with you at your house or visit you at your job. A strong friendship was quickly formed, and with how much he was gone, his teammates quickly became suspicious.

It started with questions, the others asking where he was all the time and why he was suddenly so interested in stopping by flower and gardening shops whenever they were out. Naturally, Optimus was the first to figure it out, asking if he’d met someone and then leaving the subject alone when Prowl avoided the subject. However, Bumblebee was the next to catch on, and he had no sense of personal boundaries, so he dragged Bulkhead along to follow him to your house. While it wasn’t the best first impression, that was how you met Bumblebee and Bulkhead, and eventually Optimus and Ratchet as well- since the secret was out in the open now and no one seemed to disapprove of you, Prowl had started bringing you around the Autobot base.

The rest was history, but the more Prowl developed his relationship with you, the more fearful he became for the future. He was a wise and emotionally mature bot, he figured, but he didn’t know how to handle his feelings for you. He had fallen in love. He was cybertronian, you were human, and it wouldn’t be fair to you to initiate anything- not that he thought you returned the feelings anyways. No, you were too pure and sweet, kind and beautiful, fragile and soft. He feared hurting you most of the time. He feared falling deeper. He feared starting something he couldn’t finish and leaving you hurt in the end, but each day he spent with you only made it worse.

Why did he love you? Why couldn’t he have fallen for another Autobot? Why a human? The thoughts plagued his processor constantly, but when you reached over to grab one of his digits and pull him along to show him something in your garden or smiled up at him, he couldn’t help it. You were so soft and delicate, but you still treated him like you would anyone else. You weren’t scared of him, you always offered a listening ear when he needed it, and you opened up to him in return.

Warm, bright, radiant- Prowl felt like you were all of the things that he wasn’t, and as he returned to base and walked into the main room, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Spending time with you seemed exhausting nowadays. He always left with a troubled processor and an uneasy feeling. Was it right to keep seeing you when he knew it wouldn’t go anywhere? Would his unresolved feelings get in the way of your friendship? What was he to do at this point? As much as he’d tried to simply make the feelings go away, he couldn’t; couldn’t develop an interest in anyone else, couldn’t think of anything he didn’t like about you to kill his attraction, couldn’t will it away. Nothing worked, so he drowned himself in it, and while he would have loved to sulk for a little bit, his attention was captured by his team.

He’d walked into... Something, though he wasn’t quite sure what that something was yet. His entire team was crowded onto the living room couch, silent, staring up at him. Seeing them all in one room at the same time was rare when they weren’t sharing energon or working against the Decepticons, but seeing them all in one room and quiet? Something was wrong. 

“Where did you just come from, Prowl?” Bumblebee, who was sitting in the middle of the couch with Bulkhead to his right, crossed his arms as he asked the oddly accusatory question and leaned forward.

“(y/n)’s, why?” Prowl answered. He was so uneasy that he found himself shifting his weight from one pede to the other and averting his gaze. While he wasn’t normally avoidant like that, when it came to you, he couldn’t help how nervous he got.

“Don’t worry about it, but-” Bulkhead started, letting out a nervous chuckle.

The atmosphere was tense and awkward. Optimus Prime, next to Bulkhead on the edge of the couch, wouldn’t even look at him. Meanwhile, Ratchet, who was on the other side of Bumblebee, appeared to be growing increasingly agitated with each second that passed. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Prowl finally demanded, which made Bumblebee stand up and point right at him with a huge grin.

“Intervention, baby!” The yellow bot cheered.

“Intervention? I’m not abusing substances if that’s what you’re-”

“No, no, that’s not what we’re getting at, you bucket of bolts!” Ratchet groaned and face-palmed. “We’re here to talk about you and (y/n)!”

There were two ways this could go, and Prowl wasn’t sure which one he hated more.

One, his team could be concerned about him spending so much time with a human who had nothing to do with their cause. It was a valid concern and he knew it- spending so much time with you put you in at risk of getting involved with the Decepticons like Sari, and unlike Sari, you had no key or Cyber-organic powers to protect you. You were simply human, and it wasn’t fair to you to put you in danger the way he was. But he was selfish.

Two, his team could be concerned about his feelings for you. Whether for the aforementioned reasons or because they had to watch the two of you interact all the time, he wasn’t sure, but it would make sense. He certainly hadn’t expected them to call an intervention over either issue, though, so all he could do was stand there.

They were staring at him. 

It was... Embarrassing, to say the least.

“I don’t see why this would be considered even remotely appropriate- And Optimus, Ratchet,” Prowl glared at the two older bots, knowing damn well that they knew better than to do this to him. “I expect it from these two, but you? I thought you were more mature than this, but I see I was mistaken.”

“Don’t come at us with your maturity spiel when you can’t even mech up enough to tell (y/n) your true feelings,” Ratchet spat.

“Ratchet, you could have phrased that with a bit more tact, but I do believe you are correct,” Optimus agreed with a small nod and offered a smile, glancing at Ratchet and then at Prowl. “While we don’t have the right to dictate what you do, Prowl, it’s become obvious to everybot what’s going on, and... We all support you. You should be honest with (y/n) and tell her the truth. Love is something that should be appreciated and cherished, not hidden away.”

“Yeah! Plus, it hurts to watch you two dance around each other when it’s so obvious what’s going on,” Bumblebee argued. “She likes you back-”

“No, she doesn’t, and even if she did, how would this work?” Prowl raised his voice without meaning to, and the moment he heard how loud his volume was, he paused to take a deep breath and reflect. His team had good intentions, they wanted him to be happy and enjoy a relationship for once, but he was so scared. Why couldn’t they leave him alone? With a sigh, he spoke again, not daring to look at any of his friends. “I’m Cybertronian and she’s organic, and we could have to go back to Cybertron any day now- or, even worse, the Decepticons could kill us. Would it not be selfish of me to confess my feelings for her, start a relationship, and then leave or die? Assuming that she wants anything to do with me, that is.”

“Listen, I get where you’re coming from, but you’ve heard the saying here on earth that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, haven’t you? (y/n) would be more upset if you left or died without telling her the truth than she would be if you told her beforehand. No matter what happens in the end, at least she’d have some closure that way, because she does love you too,” Bulkhead insisted.

“No, she doesn’t,” Prowl mumbled, not having any other defense. Did he think you loved him like that? No, but did he have definite proof that you didn’t? Also no, so he was left without a solid defense, but too stubborn to concede to his friends’ (valid) points. “You’re wrong.”

“Yeah she does, dude, you’re just wrong,” Bumblebee walked over to him and put a servo on his shoulder, meeting his optics, uncharacteristically intense- borderline angry. “How can you even know if you haven’t talked to her about it?”

“How can you know?” Prowl defended and jabbed a digit into the younger bot’s chest plate. The two continued to stare each other down for a few moments before Bee finally sighed and looked away.

“Because I’ve talked to her about it.”

“...Oh. I see,” The black and gold bot took a step back and fidgeted with his servos. He had never expected for you to confide in Bumblebee about such a matter, but then again... Aside from Prowl himself, Bumblebee was your best friend and always had been since he’d started bringing you around. The two of you were similar; innocent, kindred souls with similar interests. Unlike Prowl, the yellow bot brought out your more energetic, fun side, making you laugh constantly, but... He hadn’t been aware of the fact that Bumblebee was a confidant for you, too. Part of him was jealous, but he tried to shove that down with a tense swallow. “I’m going to take my leave, then.”

“That’s what I thought,” The smaller bot smirked, earning a glare from Prowl in return.

“Get bent.”

~

That entire night and the day after were spent locked in his room reflecting upon everything; his feelings, you, the advice that his teammates had given him during their little “intervention”, the potential consequences of what he was about to do.

Whether he wanted to or not, he knew that he needed to confess. What if one of you died without ever saying anything? What if he went back to Cybertron without ever having the chance to tell you the truth and regretted it? What if you had to leave Detroit someday? It was too big of a problem to leave unresolved given how chaotic and unpredictable your lives were, even if he was scared of what could happen. Plus, half the battle was you loving him back, and if Bumblebee told the truth the day prior, you already did.

So, Prowl sat on your roof. Waiting. You were outside for whatever reason despite it being midnight on a Tuesday in human time, laying in your backyard and admiring your flowers. Since it was a warm fall, they were growing quite well, your pumpkin crop in particular thriving. He’d been watching you for a while; (s/c) skin glowing as the moonlight shone upon your body, (f/c) shorts and a black sleepshirt hugging your frame. Your (e/c) eyes were currently trained on your rosebush, though he was sure you had noticed his presence- even though he wasn’t visible behind your chimney, you had an amazing knack for being able to feel when he was there, visible or not. 

“(y/n)?” The Autobot finally spoke, emerging from his hiding place and jumping down into your backyard to stand next to where you lay. 

You sat up to look at him with a tired smile. It was late and you had work tomorrow... Something must’ve been on your mind, too. Perhaps the two of you were in sync with your recent concerns.

“Hey, Prowl, you’re up late. Why don’t you lay with me?” Unable to say no to you, Prowl did just that, joining you on the grass and laying with his back on the ground. The stars that littered the sky were fogged up by the city lights, but while he normally would’ve been agitated by it, you were better to stare at, so he didn’t mind too much. “You sat on my roof for a while and didn’t even talk to me. What’s keeping you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing, I just-” The ninjabot started, close to denying everything flat out and ignoring the subject of his feelings yet again before realizing that’s what the problem was. He couldn’t open up to you and it was making everything convoluted, so with a sharp breath, he gathered all of his willpower and spoke to you again. “No, you know what? I’m tired of this.”

“What?” You looked shocked at the sound of his agitated tone, eyebrows furrowing together as you sat up and glanced at him, making him sit up as well. Your (e/c) eyes burned into his ocean optics in that moment, and a brief silence washed over the two of you before he spoke again.

“I’m tired of us hiding from each other,” Unable to help himself, Prowl leaned closer to you and reached over to rest a servo on one of your hands. “Be honest, what are your feelings towards me?”

You stopped, your breath visibly catching in your throat. The black and gold bot could immediately tell you were nervous, terrible at hiding your negative emotions like you had been since he’d met you, but he let you have as much time as you needed.

“Prowl, it’s a bit sudden for you to ask something like that out of nowhere. You know we’re friends-” You started, but when you looked closer at his face, you gave him a defeated sigh that made him realize; you knew he knew. “Who told you?”

“So it’s true,” He stated, holding your hand tightly and giving a soft frown. Your face was painted with the same fear and anxiety that he’d felt over loving you for so long now. 

Part of him was happy that you loved him back. The other part almost wished you didn’t, wished you could live your life happy and blissfully unaware to avoid the risk of getting your heart broken.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized.

“What do you have to be sorry for, sweetspark?” Prowl asked, tone gentle as he used his spare hand to caress your cheek and leaned in to rest his helm against yours. “I’d be a fool not to reciprocate, but I want to hear it for myself before I do anything. Tell me how you feel.”

“I’m in love with you, Prowl,” You admitted. A couple of tears welled up in your eyes and flowed down your cheeks, those of which Prowl wiped away with his thumb. “I’ve been captivated since the moment I saw you, and I never planned on telling you. I’m afraid of you getting attached to me and not being able to handle it if we ever have to separate because I’m sure there will be a day when you have to go back to your home planet. You can’t stay forever, and I can’t go with you.”

“I feel the same way... I love you too, (y/n)- so much that I don’t think you understand. I held off because I fear having to leave you someday, but I realized that we should take advantage of what time we have left and try our best to make this work,” In between his words, you let out what he assumed was a sigh of relief, making him do the same. Prowl quickly felt the weight of his anxieties leaving his chest and shoulders. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your plump, warm lips, then withdrew to press a few more against your cheeks and forehead. You giggled; a sound he would listen to for the rest of his life if he could. “I think we’ll be alright in the end.”

“I...” You grinned and leaned into him with another laugh. “I think so, too. But who told you?”

“That’s... Quite the story. You see, yesterday afternoon, I got back to the base after visiting you and...”

Prowl smiled as well as he started his story. Things were complicated, and he knew this was risky, but you wrapping an arm around one of his and gripping his hand made him realize just how worth it you were. 

Maybe that intervention hadn’t been too bad of an idea after all.

[writeyouin]

TFP Reader Insert – The Future (COMMISSION)

Word Count – 2101

Request – Optimus Prime notices that the reader isn’t acting like herself. She has lost interest in her friends and hobbies, and is generally having a hard time. When Optimus talks to her about it, she comes clean about everything that she has been going through.

A/N – Hi, I hope this is the story that you wanted, thank you very much for commissioning me.

Warnings – Some Angst.

Rating – T

Loud music blasted through the Autobot base as Miko wailed along to her electric guitar, upon which she played a metal song of her own composition. Raf had somehow tuned her out, focusing on his laptop, and Jack was busy with Arcee, not caring about the noise surrounding him. The only one that seemed bothered by the supposed music was Ratchet, who had little patience for Miko’s vivacious ways.

“MIKO!” He finally exploded, turning away from his work console and pointing an accusatory finger at her, “STOP THAT RACKET IMMEDIATELY!”

Miko stopped playing, retorting cockily, “Relax, old man. Nobody else has a problem with my music.”

“That noise is not music, and some of us are trying to work here.”

“Raf didn’t seem to mind. He was working just fine,” Miko grinned, annoying the old doc-bot further. “Besides, can’t you like turn your hearing off?”

“This is an Autobot base, young human, and I happen to be an Autobot. Therefore, what I say goes.”

Miko shook her head, challenging the old mech, “Only humans have authority over me.”

“And mostly not even them,” Bulkhead chipped in, waking up from his time in one of the stasis pods.

“Yeah,” Miko cheered. “This guy gets it.”

Miko was about to give up the argument to attempt sparring with Bulkhead but Ratchet was not willing to let the quarrel go.

Although you had been sat quietly in the corner, sketching Optimus from memory, Ratchet turned to you for your input; as the oldest human currently in the base, surely you had some authority over the youngling.

“(Y/N), surely you have something to say about this!” Ratchet demanded.

You glanced up from your sketchpad, startled to have so many people looking at you. Since these were your friends, you soon calmed and answered, “Yes, I think she needs an A chord instead of a D chord at the end of the song. Other than that, she’s really progressing.”

“You got it, boss,” Miko shot finger-guns at you, picking her guitar back up.

Ratchet stared at you coldly, “You use you power over that girl for evil.”

With that, he got back to work and everyone returned to their earlier activities. You smiled fondly at the rag-tag group of Autobots and humans. It might have just been you, but there was something intimate and comforting about having a few close friends as opposed to amassing a large group to show off like a status symbol. Ever since you had gotten tangled up with Miko, Jack and Raf as well as the Autobots, your life had certainly changed for the better.

You got back to your sketch, which would soon join the many art pieces that you did on the Autobots, all of which had to stay at the base so you didn’t blow their cover.

You quietly sang along to the song your phone was playing, losing yourself in the melody while you searched your sketch pad for inspiration. Lately, drawing seemed to be more of a strain rather than a pleasure, and you wished to reignite the creative spark that you once had.

“WHOA! IS THAT ANOTHER EARTHLING?!” An energetic voice called out, startling you. You immediately fell silent, whipping around to see a white bot with blue chassis staring down at you. “Oh hey, don’t stop singing, it was nice. Earth has wicked music!”

You opened your mouth, trying to force words to come out, but introductions weren’t your forte. You always tried to be friendly, but the fear of rejection often clawed at your mind, effectively shutting down anything you might say.

“H-Hello,” You finally managed, fighting past your fear to speak.

“Oh good, you do talk, for a minute there, I thought I’d scared the vocaliser right out of you.”

Subconsciously, you took a step back, tripping over the chair behind you and falling to the floor. Your cheeks burned red in a blush, but before you could further embarrass yourself, Optimus came over, placing a servo on the white bot’s shoulder plates.

“(Y/N), this is Smokescreen, a new ally to the Autobots. Smokescreen, you will have to be patient with (Y/N). She is somewhat shyer than our other human associates, but if you give her time to get used to you, she is a most useful ally and a good friend to us all.”

“Gotcha,” Smokescreen beamed at Optimus, starry eyed about the Autobot leader. “Catch you later, (Y/N),” He said before leaving to explore the rest of the base.

“Bye,” You murmured, thankful that Optimus had spoken on your behalf.

Optimus inclined his head towards you in acknowledgement, soon turning to follow Smokescreen out and make sure that the younger bot didn’t get into any trouble. You hoped that the next time you saw the new Autobot, you would be able to prove that you were more than just your anxieties.

Optimus stared at you as you stood at the base’s second floor balcony, overlooking Miko, Jack and Raf, all laughing together. It had been quite some time since he had seen you interact with the children. He had overheard you telling them that you felt rather unwell, and Raf had also informed him that you were coming up to a stressful period in your education; apparently, applying for colleges was a difficult time for young humans. Still, he knew that something more was weighing on your mind when you had stopped talking to him and the other Autobots, shutting yourself away for long periods of time.

“(Y/N),” He greeted you quietly, approaching the balcony.

“Hello,” You proffered a one-word greeting which you usually reserved for those you hardly knew, preferring to converse and joke with those you were familiar with.

Optimus frowned at the step down you had taken from being his friend to being an acquaintance once again. He didn’t wait to see if you would say more, knowing instinctively that you wouldn’t.

“Would you please accompany me outside? I would like to stretch my legs,” Optimus said, his commanding tone telling you that this wasn’t a request.

You nodded meekly, taking your time in going downstairs to catch up to Optimus. You weren’t sure what he wanted to talk about, but a gut-feeling told you that it wasn’t something that you wanted to hear.

He took you to a lift that was big enough for both of you, leading you up to the roof of the base, which was disguised to look like any other part of the Nevada desert. The two of you stood in silence for a while, looking out at the vast expanse of sand and rocky outcroppings before you; the view made you feel small and insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe.

Eventually, Optimus sat down, letting his legs swing over the side of the disguised cliff. He gestured for you to do the same. Seeing Optimus in such a casual position reminded you just how close the two of you were as friends, making you feel all the worse for shutting him out over the past few weeks.

You longed to ask Optimus why you were out there where no one could overhear you but the prospect scared you. Optimus didn’t take people aside without cause. He was a natural leader, always thinking about everything that anyone said or did. If one of his associates was acting unusual, it was up to him to get to the bottom of it; the problem was that you didn’t want to be psychoanalysed, you wanted to be left alone, to hide your fears and insecurities from the rest of the world.

Alas, nobody said no to Optimus Prime, so you sat next to him, wondering what lecture awaited you.

“It is a beautiful night, is it not,” Optimus proffered.

“Yes,” You answered dutifully, looking up at the stars.

Optimus sighed at your mono-syllabic response, “(Y/N), I have brought you out here because I have noticed that you have been acting unusual. Ever since I have known you, you have been so full of wonder, humour and life. You light up a room when you are with those you trust and you have a healthy appreciation for everything around you, but now you are shutting out anyone who tries to get close to you. I’ve seen Cybertronians who lose their way in life, losing interest in the things that once brought them joy, but I have never seen it in your kind… until now. Is something the matter?”

A sudden, raw anger burned inside you. Was something wrong? Of course there was, but why should that be anyone’s business but your own. You didn’t care to have Optimus prying into your personal life when he should have been focusing on his own, much larger problems.

“I was doing alright on my own,” You growled at him, your rage tainting your words with its stinging tone. “I don’t need your help, Optimus. I’m fine.”

“If I have learned anything from my time here on Earth, it is that when Earth females say they are fine, they are not,” Optimus replied sagely. “You may not wish for my help, but I am offering it anyway.”

You struggled with yourself for a while, partially wanting to shy away and hide from the world, yet also longing for the friend you had sorely missed.

“I’m tired,” You finally admitted. At your omission, you felt the sting of fresh tears that you had held back for so long. Naturally patient, Optimus waited for you to tell him all that had been weighing upon you.

“I’m so damn tired, Optimus. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Is this about your college applications?” Optimus asked.

You shook your head. While that was a part of the problem, it was only a small fraction of what you were struggling with. “I can’t see my future, Optimus. People ask me where I want to be in five years, and I don’t know the answer. How am I supposed to know what I want to do with the rest of my life? It’s not fair to ask. There’s too much to think about. And I just-”

“Go on,” Optimus encouraged when you faltered.

You took a deep breath, “I wish that my dad was here.”

Sorrow filled Optimus’ spark at the mention of your father. Humans usually had close ties to their families. He had quickly learned that parents traditionally acted as a youngling’s guide, always there to offer their advice and support. The closest thing that Cybertronians had in comparison were their mentors. Optimus sorely missed the guidance of his own mentor Alpha Trion, so he could imagine some of what you were feeling.

You sighed, exhausted by your outburst, “Sorry… You must think I’m selfish. There are people worse off than me, and all I can think about is myself.”

“Everyone has their struggles. They do not invalidate your own.”

For the first time since coming out, you really looked at Optimus Prime, seeing the anguish in his optics. His concern for you was touching, though seeing him worry only served to make you feel worse.

Optimus, sensing your feelings, spoke reassuringly, “If someone is concerned over your wellbeing, it means that you have made a great impact on their life. I hope that I too have made an impact on yours.”

“Of course you have,” You breathed. “You’re one of my best friends.”

“An honour I shall strive to be worthy of.”

“Optimus… What should I do?” You asked, referring to your future.

“I am afraid that is something only you can decide, but if I might offer some comforting words, you should know that I also do not know what my future holds.”

“But you’re Optimus Prime. You’re the leader of the Autobots!”

“Yes, but I have been in this war so long that sometimes I don’t think it will ever end. If it does, I will have to lead my people back to Cybertron, but tell me, how does one rebuild a planet and an entire civilisation with it?”

“…I don’t know.”

“Nor do I, but I do not fear this future. Instead, I embrace it, and lean on my friends for support. Friendships make us stronger; I suggest you remember that when we go back inside.”

You nodded, thoughtfully quiet. Optimus patted your shoulder comfortingly and the two of you stayed there for a while, looking up at the stars; a Cybertronian and a human, unsure of what awaited them in the future, but willing to face it all the same, with each other to lean on.

[local-spoon-does-a-thing]

Found ( Part 1/2)

[(Bayverse) Optimus Prime x Reader)

A/N: Okay so this takes place during Transformers: Age of Extinction. When I was younger I loved the movie (mostly because it had dinosaurs) but once I re-watched it...yeah, it was meh for me. In my opinion, first film was better than the sequels. Anyways, I thought “hey, what would happen if reader was separated from Optimus then reunited after all these years?” And so, I did it. I’m dividing this into two parts since I don’t want to make this too long. The second part is mostly going to be the interaction between reader and Optimus. Also, the reader is like in early or mid-twenties.

You can find the second part here!

Summary: 5 years have passed since you last saw Optimus Prime, your guardian. Since then, you’ve traveled with the Autobots and went in hiding with them. Just as you were about to give up hope, Optimus summons the Autobots.

Warning: Angst, angst, angst, angst, spoilers for T:AOE

It’s been 5 years since you last saw Optimus Prime. Leader of the Autobots, your guardian and best friend. In the aftermath of the events in Chicago, you thought that everything would somewhat go back to normal. Hunting down more Decepticons with your teammates, going on missions together, having Optimus scold you for not doing your homework. Though of course, nothing would be the same without Ironhide. His death absolutely destroyed you. But greater matters were forced to be looked upon, such as the public starting to see the Autobots as a threat, which was very stupid considering that they saved the whole damn world, NEST disbanding, the ‘Bots having to be on the run, and finally, Optimus disappearing from the team. With your long time contribution to the team, you were hunted down as well. Cemetery Wind demanded information about the Cybertronians, every single piece of detail, but you didn’t let them. Now with you being wanted and labeled as a fugitive, you could never truly return to your normal life. Your future dream university? Say goodbye to that. Your friends and family? You left with Bumblebee, not wanting to put any of them in danger. If they were, then you knew that their blood would be on your hands and you just could not accept that.

You supported Bumblebee when he was suddenly assigned as the commanding leader of the Autobot refugees. Despite them belittling and discouraging him, you stayed by his side. You always wondered what Ironhide would’ve done. He would’ve probably done things his own way. What would Ratchet do? You missed the grumpy medic and him meddling about your health. And Optimus...you missed him. A lot. You missed the times where he would be off-guard by some of your witty jokes, you missed how he would let you sleep in his alternate form whenever you dreamt of Decepticons, you missed his rare laughs and chuckles. You really, really missed him. As time went on by, you noticed that even Bumblebee was changing. He grew a bit more mature, but you knew that the responsibility of being a leader was too much for him. He missed Sam, and you did too. Though you two were only neighbors at first, you grew close and became siblings with one another. After his run-in with Cemetery Wind, you knew that he wasn’t coming back. At that point, you were growing hopeless. You tried getting along with Hound, Drift, and Crosshairs throughout the years, but you were too tired to hold up a conversation with them. Luckily, they reluctantly accepted you as a comrade.

As everyone was changing, you noticed that so were you. You were no longer joking around as much as you used to. You became quiet and serious. Yes, you would still give out encouragement and words of optimism to not let the flame of hope die out, but lately, it started to feel and sound fake. Were you trying to convince the others to not give up or were you trying to convince yourself? For the majority of the last 5 years, you tried believing that Optimus and Ratchet were still alive, just in hiding. Your poor heart simply couldn’t handle the weight of indescribable sorrow if news broke out that the two were gone. You’ve already witnessed Optimus die once and you couldn’t do that whole thing again. Hope was something that you needed but it started to become something that you could no longer grasp. When your dying flame of hope was at its last breath, that’s when he came in. The voice you haven’t heard in a very long time.

“Calling all Autobots. Calling all Autobots.”

It was Optimus Prime, calling from the radio. Bumblebee abruptly stopped the drive, causing you to almost hit your head against the steering wheel. After you hissed out his name, you turned to the radio in disbelief. Were you hearing things or was this reality? Bee then started to mess the radio until Optimus’s message was playing on repeat. No. Way. This was actually happening. You didn’t even have time to gather your thoughts before Bee started redirecting his coordinate and driving to where his leader was located, at full speed. Your heart was pounding and you were starting to feel the adrenaline rushing in. Reality still had yet to sink in. Everything was starting to get overwhelming, even if only a couple of moments had passed by. This was real. This had to be real.

You clutched your stomach and nibbled the bottom of your lip. This was supposed to be a great thing and it was! Then why did you feel sick to your stomach? You’ve heard of people throwing up from nervousness. Was this what you were feeling? Why were you nervous? You wanted to see him, absolutely! But after all this time, after all these years, were you even prepared? What if it was just a false alarm and you would get trapped by Decepticons or any other enemies? What if Cemetery Wind had already got him and tried to use him as bait? That last thought had almost made you puke right then and there. Whether you were ready or not, it was time. 

You watched as the rest of the team had already met up with Optimus. The color of his alternate form made you stare at him with wide eyes as all the memories of you two together flashed for a second. Your jaw slightly dropped open and so many things ran around your mind. You were so out of reality that you hadn’t even noticed Bumblebee already transforming out of his alternate form and perching you on top of his shoulder. As he walked towards him, you watched Optimus’s transformation one last time and as always, it never ceases to amaze you and put you in a trance.

“Humans have asked us to play by their rules. Well, the rules have just changed.”

His deep voice filled your ears and for the first time, you relaxed. You could never forget what he sounded like, even during your darkest moments when you had tried to forget in an attempt to get rid of the pain that tore your heart to shreds. Words could not do justice to how you were feeling at this exact moment. The moment when you were finally reunited with your long lost guardian. Bumblebee gently let you down from his shoulder and as the team argued and bickered, all you could do was stare and not move. If this was a dream, then you never wanted to wake up. After an eternity of staring, Optimus’s optics met with your [e/c] orbs and you swore that you saw his breath hitch. 

You weren’t the only one that was worried. During Optimus’s time away from the team and trying to stay hidden, there was not a single thought where he would not worry about you. He always wondered if you were okay and...still alive. It broke his spark every time he imagined that you were dead, six feet underground. Or worse yet, if no one had even known where your body was. He thought that once he would get out of hiding, and he knew that he would one day, the first thing he did not want to hear was that you were either found dead or missing. He hoped that you were out there, having a good life and spending your time in university. Until he went to slumber, until the day that he would be found by Cade Yeager, he yearned for the day where he would get to hear your jokes one last time.

Here you were. Alive and still moving with Bumblebee and the others. His expression softened ever so slightly and he felt a big weight being lifted off of his shoulders. He took a long moment just looking at you. You’ve certainly grown and he knew that you were no longer the bratty teenager he grew to love. Sadness washed over him when he realized that he didn’t get to see you grow up as he was absent for the past 5 years. Questions went in and out, but they were going to have to be asked later. He gave you an ever so slightly ghost of a smile and a small nod.

We can talk later.

You snapped out of your trance once Crosshairs and Hound pointed their guns towards the strangers that you had failed to notice earlier. A young lady, a man who seems to be her father, and another boy.

“Stop, Hound- both of you! They’ve risked their lives for mine.”

For a long time, you stood in the same spot Bumblebee had put you. It was like you had forgotten to move. But once you started to walk towards Optimus and the three strangers, each step made your knees feel weak. Nothing was fully sinking in, yet you continued on. You held out your hand towards them and went on to introduce yourself.

“Uh, hey there. The name’s Cade Yeager and this is my daughter, Tessa. I assume you’re with the other…’Bots?” The young girl next to him gave you a shy smile and a small wave before the boy came in.

“Oh and I’m Shane, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

You shook the three people’s hands and gave a small but welcoming smile. At long last, you finally got to meet some humans that weren’t hunting you down and trying to kill you. It felt so refreshing to interact with someone that wasn't an alien, car transforming robot.

“[Y/N], and yeah, I’ve been traveling with the Autobots for umm...a few years now or so. Also, I just want to thank you for helping Optimus. Seriously, you have no idea how grateful I am, along with the others as well.”

The way you spoke of Optimus’s name gave you a foreign feeling. Later during the straggling years, especially recently, you rarely spoke of his name since whenever you did, it always gave you an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. But now, you were able to say it with ease after knowing that he was okay. Cade gave you a smile and scratched the back of his neck.

“It’s no problem at all, really. I saw the way you looked at him and I’m glad that I could help.”

Optimus stared and observed you during your whole interaction with them. There were so many things to say and so many things to discuss with you. Though as he promised, he would have to do that later. Your hair was a bit of a mess, your clothes were a bit dirty and there were some torn bits here and there from all the battles and run-ins you had with the enemy. If he were to look closer, he would be able to notice scars that have been implanted onto your skin. Gashes, cuts, bullet wounds; they were there. He tore his gaze away from you and looked towards the rest of the team.

“Autobots, we will remain here and recharge for the rest of the day. Once everything is settled, we will discuss further plans with Cade Yeager.”

And so, the whole team went to settle down for the day. To your despair, you had little time with Optimus to discuss pretty much everything that had been going on. He had wanted to talk to you as much as you wanted to talk to him, but he was already occupied with what Bumblebee, Crosshairs, Hound, and Drift wanted to tell him. All the reports and notable news about Cemetery Wind and some bickering between the team. Meanwhile, you tried to distract yourself by helping the Yeagers and Shane set up a camp. Drift had been more than helpful by chopping wood from nearby dead trees with his blades. Before you knew it, night had fallen. Hound was able to set a campfire by using measures that were too extreme for your taste. You sat down beside Bumblebee, staring into the crackling fire. You quietly listened to the conversation that was going on beside you. The Autobots spoke of any possible refugees that had come within the years while Cade was being the typical overprotective dad. That almost made you chuckle. It reminded you of your father whenever he saw you hanging out with a potential love interest. God, when was the last time you had even thought about your parents? You wondered how they were doing and if they were still kicking. You wondered that if you were ever to come back to them, would they ever forgive you for running away and scaring them to death? Your heart ached as you thought more about them. If you could just give them one message that told them that you were okay, that would be enough.

Suddenly, you looked up when you heard Drift talking shit about Bumblebee once again. Almost simultaneously, both you and the giant yellow robot rolled your eyes before he stood up from his seat and approached the giant blue robot.

“He’s like a child.”

“This child is about to kick your ass.”

“He brings us shame.”

It didn’t take long for the two to start brawling. You crossed your arms and legs and sighed as you watched the two of them getting it on. Normally, you would’ve tried to stop them and diffuse the situation, but you were just too tired. Too much has happened in one day and you deserved some rest. Plus, Optimus was here now. He could handle them. Then, you noticed the three other friendlies move towards your side, taking a couple of steps back behind you. You heard the girl Tessa comment on what was wrong with them. Ironically, that was your first thought that came into mind when you first met the refugees. Glad that you weren’t the only one.

“Lockdown is hunting us and humans are helping. We need to know why.” Optimus spoke.

“Listen, I don’t know why, but I have an idea about who.” Cade replied.

That led to you watching a couple of clips that he managed to snatch from a drone. Just as you thought that things couldn’t get worse, it did. You watched as Ratchet and Leadfoot had met their demise by the humans attacking them. Ratchet...the grumpy medic you became very fond of, one of the very first Transformers you’ve met. All the missions you went with him, all the meddling you had to put up with from him, and all the scolding he gave you because he cared about you. Though you weren’t as close to Leadfoot as you were with Ratchet, you knew that he was a good ‘Bot. Two of your closest friends, down and out. Ratchet and Ironhide, both who never got to peacefully pass away. You hung your head low as you rested your elbows on top of your knees. Your hair fell in front of your face as silent, bitter tears fell to the ground below you. “Savages” as Hound had called him. And he was right, that was the exact word that  had described how the humans were in the footage. Ratchet had even begged that he was a medic and an Autobot. Your blood continued to boil even once the footage was finished playing. 

Quickly, you wiped away the tears by harshly jabbing your knuckles into your eyes and looked towards the others as they continued to discuss what was happening. Cade mentioned that the headquarters were located in Chicago and had offered to help them with the mission. He told how if he didn’t help them, then they wouldn’t be able to get their normal lives back. Funny thing was that once you’ve associated yourself with the Autobots, there was no way your life was going to fully revert back to its normal self. You and Sam knew that all too well.

“Autobots, I have sworn to never kill humans,” Optimus said, “but when I find out who’s behind this, he’s going to die.”

This old robot always manages to catch you off-guard. In all the years you’ve known him, you have never heard him say anything with a threatening voice. A scary one, in fact. To you, he was the calmest person you knew. Calculated and dangerous, but he was calm. He defined a true leader. But he was going to kill humans? Just before he declared that statement, he admitted that he swore to not kill humans. You knew that he was enraged with what Cemetery Wind and KSI had done to his close friends and you didn’t blame him for wanting to kill someone responsible. It just seemed so off; so out of character. It was jarring.

[libermachinae]

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise 29. Prowl, in profile, looks to the right. Prowl: “I lost my best friend, Prime. Megatron stood at his side and only one of them walked away.” End ID.]

I’ve never stopped thinking about this line, so! What the fuck is up with Prowl and Bumblebee’s relationship? (Spoiler alert: I do not think Bee is another ex 😔)

They first met millions of years ago when Bumblebee went to Orion Pax for help regarding horrible dream he’d been having, and from there remained in each other’s orbits, though not really friends.

[ID: From Robots in Disguise #32. Prowl and Bumblebee stand with their backs to the reader, watching Metroplex lift off in city form while a battle rages in the sky around him. Bumblebee: “Nobody said war’s logical, bud.” Prowl: “That’s my point. We’re going to do stupid things until we die.” Bumblebee: ��Primus, Prowl. Lighten up. We’re not like the Decepticons!” End ID.]

During the war, they got along fine, but in the one snapshot we see there’s not a lot of friendliness between them: Prowl is talking about the futility of their war and Bumblebee happens to be someone nearby. There’s a familiarity to the way they talk to each other (I doubt many people would bother or could get away with calling Prowl “bud”), but it’s more like coworkers who have been stepping on each other’s toes for a long time than real friends. The conversation begins and ends with Prowl’s internal monologue, while Bumblebee’s perspective is just a device used to draw out more of Prowl’s thoughts. Little is shown of their relationship because at this point, it just isn’t there.

[ID: Screenshot from The Transformers #21. Optimus stands with his back to the reader in the foreground, with Bumblebee and Prowl in the Background. Prowl’s caption: “That’s when Prime filled in the ‘Bee. He took it better than I expected. Smart questions. No whining. Focused the anger. He’s going to be a great leader one day. If he gets the chance.” End ID.]

(”the ‘Bee” lol Costa’s Prowl is a specimen) Half a million years later, they’re on Earth, Bumblebee has been elected and then demoted, and Optimus is leaving with most of the Autobots while assigning them to investigate the illegal weapons trade. Prowl has thoughts on Bumblebee’s leadership, which will be the ongoing theme of their relationship for the rest of the series. In typical Prowl fashion, he will never speak these particular thoughts aloud. (continues under the cut!)

[ID: Screenshots from Spotlight: Bumblebee. Panel 1: Bumblebee points offpanel with his cane and at himself with his thumb. Bumblebee: “No, wait, hang on, Prowl—I’m in charge here.” Panel 2: Prowl points a stern finger at Bumblebee, offpanel. Prowl: “What? Come on. This isn’t about being in charge, it’s about being right.” Panel 3: Prowl, flanked by two other Autobots, walks away from Bumblebee. Prowl: “’I’m in charge.’ Optimus Prime would never put up with that kind of procedural nonsense.” End ID.]

Spotlight: Bumblebee is basically a story about Bumblebee trying to impress Prowl. It opens by showing us how little respect Prowl holds for Bumblebee, ignoring his orders and taking bots he had already assigned to different tasks. We already know that Prowl is no Optimus fan, making the dig at Bumblebee extra cutting. It also doesn’t hurt that Bumblebee’s whole story so far has been about trying to live up to Optimus, Prowl’s words coming as long-anticipated confirmation that he has failed to do so.

[ID: Screenshot from Spotlight: Bumblebee. Prowl smiles. “Means the little guy’s got more spark than I gave him credit for, these last couple million years. Taking down five bad guys on his own— and blaming himself for not stopping a hundred more? And then coming home and taking control?” End ID.]

“That’s what Prime would do.”

Recklessly endangering himself for the sake of taking down a few “bad guys”? Yeah, that actually sounds exactly like Optimus.

Bumblebee proves himself taking command and earns a little respect from Prowl, even finding the confidence to bite back for Prowl’s “procedural nonsense” comment. It marks a big shift in their relationship, and by the time they’re back on Cybertron in time for Death of Optimus Prime, they’re working together by choice rather than decree. If we’re looking for a point where they become friends, I think this is it, a whole three years before the “best friend” panel above. All it took was a “couple million years” of just tolerating each other.

And this takes us into Phase 2!

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #1. Bumblebee waves a cellphone-like device in Prowl’s face. Prowl: “They’re not my friends.” Bumblebee: “Whatever they are—you keep them in line or I will. You understand?” End ID.]

And also into an ongoing conversation about friendship! 

The pair is back on Cybertron following the events of Death of Optimus Prime and trying to figure out how to bring order to their home, and immediately disagree about the best way to do that. Bumblebee refers to the newly deputized Decepticon enforcers as Prowl’s “friends,” using the word to highlight the unprofessional, independent nature of what is essentially Prowl’s personal anti-neutral militia.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #1. Bumblebee: “Rodimus and his crew died. They were our friends—we can’t—can’t not eulogize them.” Prowl: “They were my comrades—dammit, my friends, too.” End ID.]

This leads into a conversation about the recently-departed Lost Light, for which Bumblebee thinks a memorial should be held. This time, when the word “friend” is used, it’s more sincere. Bumblebee also doesn’t say “my friends”—he extends an invitation that Prowl accepts, albeit clumsily.

Does he mean it, though? Prowl is not so socially bankrupt to not understand how friendships are supposed to look. Even if we dismiss his attitude to the Lost Light as general Prowlishness, this scene is followed by a conversation with Arcee in which he says he doesn’t trust anyone, which is a pretty major hurtle to get over. It’s not a stretch to assume Prowl is lying.

He never makes a move like that without a purpose, though. By referring to the Lost Light crew as his friends, he gets Bumblebee to relax and see things from his own perspective, giving him an opportunity to talk about the more pressing security issues they are facing. This, in fact, is Prowl’s go-to strategy: identify the person in power and get close to them, thereby giving him the ability to watch over how that power is wielded.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #1. Prowl speaks to Bumblebee over his shoulder. Prowl: “Look. every day, I watch the sun go down and wonder if we can make it another night without them. If I even want to.” Bumblebee: “Huh. I mean, yeah. Me, too.” Prowl: “I’m not emotionless, Bee. I care about Rodimus and Magnus and the rest as much as you do. But look at the situation logically.” End ID.]

That said, I don’t think Prowl is lying here. Despite how warped his worldview becomes, I do believe that at his core, Prowl wants what is best for Cybertronians (well, Autobots). Many of his darker plans were created with the intention to keep people alive, so regardless of his personal feelings to them, he is not “emotionless” and does feel something over their deaths.

[ID: First screenshot from Robots in Disguise #2. Bumblebee smirks at Prowl, holding up his electrocuting cane. Bumblebee: “Heh—same old Prowl. Wheeljack whipped it up the other day.” Prowl: I’ve got to have a talk with Wheeljack.” Second and third screenshots from Robots in Disguise #3. Panel 1: Bumblebee frowns at Prowl. “Enough! Prowl—shut up. Metalhawk has a point.” Panel 2: Prowl looks furious. Bumblebee is holding him back from lunging at someone off-panel. Prowl: “Bad move…” Bumblebee: “Down, Prowl.” End ID.]

I don’t have much to say about these scenes, except that I like them as an illustration of their dynamic in this part of the story. Cold, confrontational, and yet with a degree of familiarity I would’ve thought more fitting to a much older connection. I really can’t imagine the Prowl from half a million years ago, talking at Bumblebee about the folly of their commander, allowing himself to be held back and calmly talked down. Through their work together, something is developing that we might almost mistake for genuine friendship.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #4. Arcee: “Come on. I know you didn’t destroy it. You’re not that hard. But you are cold and calculating. Enough that even Bumblebee—even your only friend—thinks you might’ve.” Arcee: “Bee won’t say it. But you know that’s what he’s thinking.” Prowl: “It doesn’t bother me. Bee doubts everything. Even himself.” End ID.]

“Even Bee—even your only friend—thinks you might’ve.”

“Bee doubts everything. Even himself.”

The same phrase is used twice in the conversation to distinguish Bumblebee as an outlier (not the superpower kind, though maybe his ability to tolerate the Worst People should be considered). For Arcee, it’s in his proximity to Prowl. Prowl’s use of the phrase is a little more ambiguous, though. Is he saying that one should have faith in oneself if nothing else? It definitely fits in his worldview. Or is he saying Bumblebee is worthy of being trusted, believed in?

If so, what does that mean? Bumblebee would take Prowl’s endorsement as faith in his abilities as a leader, but we already know Prowl doesn’t view leadership that way. He needs to get an Autobot elected, and Bumblebee specifically, because he needs someone in power he can get close to and control. Bumblebee’s leadership, though perhaps not Bumblebee himself, offers Cybertron a path towards peace. So, actually, Arcee and Prowl mean the same thing: Bumblebee is special because he’s the person Prowl is closest to.

This is also the first indication we get that Bumblebee does not trust Prowl so fully as Prowl wants. As sneaky as Prowl is, it’s easy to forget sometimes that Bumblebee is his own agent with his own ability to measure the facts. He wants to trust Prowl, but that doesn’t blind him to Prowl’s reputation.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #5. Ironhide and Prowl cluster around Bumblebee, who looks contemplative. Prowl: “Think about what they’re say about you in the future, Bee! The Autobot that let the Decepticons go free?!” Ironhide: “He’s right—a little. Think about what the future can be. Cybertron’s our world,and tomorrow’s our day…” End ID.]

We get to see more of Bumblebee soon after, since Prowl gets cerebroshelled. Bomb-Prowl is much more ruthless than the genuine article, expressing little care for the lives of any Cybertronians, but nobody notices it around Prowl’s standard prickly persona. Bumblebee experiences growing unease with Bomb-Prowl’s methods, though interestingly does not dismiss him for it. Consider the above scene: a fight has just broken out. To resolve it, Ironhide, Starscream, and Ironhide recommend removing the Decepticons’ ID chips. Prowl is the sole voice of dissent, and Bumblebee chooses to ignore him while also maintaining their partnership.

Bumblebee can think for himself and say no to Prowl. This situation is not just Prowl manipulating and taking advantage of Bumblebee: the latter is fully capable of making his own decisions.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #11. Bumblebee stands on the left and Prowl on the right. Bumblebee: “Am I wearing blinders because you’re my friend? Are you even my friend?” End ID.]

When Omega Supreme is attacked, Bomb-Prowl accuses the Decepticons, opening himself up for scrutiny: Metalhawk accuses him of killing Ratbat. Bumblebee starts to express his doubts openly and he questions not only Prowl’s innocence, but their relationship altogether. (Also, though literally Bumblebee is asking, “Can I consider you, Prowl, a friend?” his question can also be read as, “Are you who you say you are?”)

Bumblebee’s question doesn’t imply he trusts Prowl. He doesn’t even trust himself: he’s wondering if their friendship has installed in him an implicit bias in Prowl’s favor. There is a possibility his feelings regarding Prowl are strong enough to warp his perception of reality, and he’s worried that he can’t see what's obvious to everyone else. In contrast to previous leaders Prowl has watched over, Bumblebee is aware of his ability and willingness to manipulate those around him. He’s not under any illusion that Prowl is honest with him all the time, but he also isn’t confident enough in himself to remove Prowl’s influence.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #11. Bumblebee: “Then I want to get back to finding Ironhide and the others, because he’s my friend and friends look out for each other.” End ID.]

There is also the matter that he does consider Prowl a friend. Not a good friend (as in caring, respectful, thoughtful), but nevertheless one he does not want to lose.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #14. Panel 1: Bumblebee shoves Metalhawk aside and reaches for Prowl, who is collapsing to the floor. Bumblebee: “Prowl—I—” Panel 2: Prowl lies on the floor. Prowl: “Bee… it wasn’t… wasn’t me… How could you not… see that?” End ID.]

I think the feeling is mutual. Prowl’s not angry at Bumblebee for falling for the Decepticons’ trap.

He’s hurt that his friend didn’t notice he was gone.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #16. Ironhide helps Prowl up. Prowl: “…I’m me.” Ironhide: “Got too much of an ego ta be anybody else.” Prowl: “I—I needed to hear—” Bumblebee (off-panel): “Later, Prowl…” End ID.]

Their relationship starts to go downhill from here. After breaking free from Devastator, Prowl actually tries to talk about his feelings, and Bumblebee dismisses him. To be fair, there are other things going on that need their attention, but Prowl is never given an opportunity to process what he has been through. Bumblebee, who excels at talking to people and helping them through their problems, never offers a space for Prowl to open up about his experience, and it’s the internalization of his trauma that leads to Prowl’s emotional degeneration through the rest of the series.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #18. Panel 1: Bumblebee hunches over his cane, struggling to stand. Bumblebee: “It’s *kaff*… Well, I don’t want to know *kaff kaff* what’s going on in his mind, but… Prowl didn’t do any of the *koff* terrible stuff.” Panel 2: Bumblebee stands in front of Prowl, facing the reader. Bumblebee: “He was *kaff* being controlled by Bombshell. I mean obviously he didn’t *koff* kill you guys—he didn’t blow up the Decepticon pen. He *kaff kaff* wasn’t running a secret war. He didn’t *koff* have Ratbat eliminated.” End ID.]

I don’t think Bumblebee is being intentionally malicious, though. Consider all the times Prowl has had to say outright that he feels things and has emotions: I think it’s more accurate to say Bumblebee didn’t believe him. The doubts he felt about Prowl were never with regard to his intentions, but rather the way he interacted with and understood the world around him. Bumblebee, going by the reputation Prowl made for himself, doesn’t believe Prowl processes events the same way he does, and as a result falsely assume that his mind control and forced combination will have no greater impact on Prowl.

And then even Bumblebee’s faith in Prowl’s intentions is shaken when Arcee reveals he did call for Ratbat’s assassination. Bumblebee is so betrayed he passes out.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #18. Panel 1: Ironhide grins to the side while Bumblebee holds a fist to his mouth, coughing. Ironhide: “Aw. An’ everything was goin’ so well…” Bumblebee: “Prowl. Why—what—*kof kofff* *koff kaf*” Panel 2: Bumblebee’s hand reaches up as he collapses. Bumblebee: “*kaf kaf* Nnnggggh…” End ID.]

The next time they interact is in Dark Cybertron. Getting close to the end, here!

[ID: First screenshot from More Than Meets the Eye #23. Bumblebee points his gun up to the off-panel Titan. Prowl stands beside him. Bumblebee: “What?!” Prowl: “You talked a good game with the Dinobots. But you need to act, too. When you were in charge of the city, you were paralyzed.” Second screenshot from Robots in Disguise #23. Panel 1: Prowl, yelling: “You’re hesitating again! Look at us! We’re teaming up with the enemy and letting Starscream do whatever he wants?!” Panel 2: Bumblebee, with a steadying hand out, stands in front of Soundwave. Bumblebee: “Prowl, shut up for once. All your attitude ever got us was… was the Constructicons.” Soundwave: “The Constructicons stand with you?” Bumblebee: “Long story, Soundwave. And this isn’t a team up. We just happen to have the same objective.” Panel 3: Prowl points at Soundwave. “Then do something! Don’t just let this—this—Decepticon control you!” End ID. Third screenshot from Robots in Disguise #23. Prowl holds up a struggling Arcee while yelling at Bumblebee. Prowl: “You let this happen, Bee! We attack now!” Bumblebee: “Prowl, get your priorities in order—” End ID.]

Evidence of Prowl’s trauma starts to become more visible. The comradery they shared before is gone; Prowl’s methodical approach to problems is gone. Instead, he is scared and impulsive, and he takes out his new anxieties on his “only friend” because Bee is the one thing he’s supposed to be able to control.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #26. Panel 1: Bumblebee and Prowl stand amidst flaming wreckage. Hound (off-panel): “Where’s Megatron?” Bumblebee: “He’s… I think he’s gone. He took the thumb and ran.” Prowl: “Dammit. You should have never done back for him, Bee.” Panel 2: Bumblebee grabs Prowl’s neck. Bumblebee: “Prowl, you smug piece of—” Prowl: “Uk!” Panel 3: Bumblebee releases Prowl. Bumblebee: “I’ve had enough of your self-righteous second-guessing…” End ID.”

But he can’t. Bumblebee has gotten used to ignoring Prowl or refuting him. Add to that Prowl’s heightened emotional state, and Bumblebee responds to his criticism with open aggression. Stuck in crisis mode like they are, there is no way for them to reset and calm down until the Titan is finally taken down and everything comes to a standstill for a moment.

[ID: Screenshot from More Than Meets the Eye #27. Prowl leans close to Bumblebee, gesturing to his head. The Constructicons linger in the background. Bumblebee: “Oh, good. I was hoping your friends would could out of hiding.” Prowl: “They weren’t—I mean, they’re not—They just shared my memories. The Decepticons exploited my—my—my head!” End ID.]

And with this, we cycle back to their first conversation in Robots in Disguise. Before, Bumblebee used the word “friends” to criticize Prowl’s Decepticon enforcers and the freedom they were granted to terrorize the neutrals. Prowl, known to circumvent the chain of command, decided to forgo it almost entirely in that case, creating a violent, lawless group that did not fit into the military structure the Autobots still relied on.

Now, he uses “friend” to refer to the enthusiasm the Constructicons have for Prowl. Prowl’s deceit has been brought into the open, legitimizing Bumblebee’s fears and forcing him to question all over again his role as a leader. The doubts he had in himself and Prowl are tied together, so that even with the knowledge that everything that happened to Prowl was out of his control, he still feels threatened by the Decepticon presence Prowl now carries with him.

And even though he’s met with this kind of hostility, Prowl still comes back to Bumblebee to continue work as his advisor. He’s got a group of bots literally right there who trust him and support him without reservation, but he chooses Bumblebee because he still believes in their power to do right by Cybertron.

[ID: Screenshot from More Than Meets the Eye #27. Prowl stands on the left, Bumblebee on the right. Prowl: “Bee—we stopped his plan, but Shockwave is still out there.” Bumblebee: I know, and you’re totally right, and anything less than a perfect attack plan and we’re sunk—so I need you to come up with one. In the meantime—mingle. There has to be somebody you want to say ‘hi’ to.” Prowl: “Actually…” End ID.]

This is the last time they talk to each other. Prowl reminds him of the impending danger, Bumblebee is grateful for his expertise, and then he encourages Prowl to go relax. There’s something to be said for the fact that upon leaving Bumblebee’s side, Prowl immediately seeks out his ex, but I think it’s mainly just that he’s lonely rather than anything nefarious. He’s lonely, and despite their distrust and criticism and generally poor treatment of each other, Bumblebee is someone who accepts his company, a rare thing that’s he’s going to lose very soon.

When I first read the words “best friend,” I assumed Prowl was lying. I also assumed, even if that was true, it would not hold in the reverse. I think I’ve changed my mind on both counts. Prowl didn’t pursue Bumblebee with genuine intentions, but they both ended up getting something out of it. It’s not a healthy relationship, but at a tumultuous time in their lives it might literally be the best they can do and in their own ways, they trust they’re going to look out for each other.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #18. Bumblebee, with his cane, leans on Prowl as they leave the ruins of Iacon. Their plating bears obvious damage, and ash and dust float through the air around them. End ID.]

[olivia200312]

Teaser!~ Bay! Optimus x Human! Reader

Requested by the lovely @AngelRosePhoenix

Plot: I was thinking of Bayverse AOE that is Cade's 20 yr old cousin which is the same age as Shane. So while they're in the Old Church hiding, Tessa was checking on her phone on YouTube when suddenly she saw Y/N modeling on Victoria's Secret. It was all about her in Victoria's Secret every outfit and catwalk. The music is playing' Roses Imanbek by Saint Jhn". Y/N tries to stop Tessa when the bots were curious too. When she showed it, Bee used a bigger screen and everyone was whistling and making kinky talk to her. She is so flustered while Prime has a horny thing on his mind. So the Prime teased her in a kinky way which others were shocked. Then Cade said, "Yeah, I'd be happy for u that she'll be your girlfriend. She really needs it." Then Tessa complained about Y/N's allowed and not her. But Cade told his daughter that she isn't at Y/N's age. Then Y/N complained and yelled when she heard Optimus say, "Well, I don't mind at all being with her." And he smirked which made her blush furiously and then there goes to the lemon >:D.

This is a lemon! I literally sometimes don't understand some requests that I get that I have to fix it every time so that the readers can understand what's going on. I recommend you all to use Grammarly. It's free and it helps you when you're typing on your computer. I've been using it for months now and it helps a lot when I'm writing chapters or one-shots here. This takes place in the church of Tf4 AOE!

Head area:

Brain: Processor / Brain Module

Head: Helm

Face: Face plate

Ears: Audio receptors / Receptor Orifice / Audials

Nose: Enstril / Olfactory Sensor

Eye brow: Optical Ridge

Eyes: Optics

Mouth: Intake

Lips: Dermas

Teeth: Denta/Dentas

Tongue: Glossa

Chest area:

Chest: Chassis / Thoraxal Cavity

Back: Hexa-Lateral Scapula

Spine: Bipedalism cord / Back Strut

Chest and back armour:

Chest plate

Back plate

Mid-section plating

Neck guard

Side plating

Arm area:

Arms: Arms / Restarlueus

Forearms: Bitarlueus

Hands: Servos

Fingers: Digits

Arm armour:

Gantlets

Shoulder pads

Arm guard

Lower area:

Pelvis: Pelvis

Butt: Aft / Skid-Plate

Thighs: Tibulen

Calves: Cadulen

Feet: Pedes - the high heel bits are called Struts or Heel Struts.

Lower armour:

Skirt plates

Aft plate / Skid plate

Thigh guard

Ankle guard

General/Internal components:

Muscles: Cables / Pistons - It depends on the area in question.

Veins: Fual lines

Stomach: Tanks

Lungs: Vents - used to stop the con/bot from over heating.

Heart: Spark

Tattoos: D-con/A-bot Insignias and the lark

T-Cog: The thing that allows all Cybertronians to transform, be that their arms or their whole body.

Bonus:

Penis: Spike

Vagina: Valve

Body: Frame

Note: the art goes to the owner!

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

Oh man, the day is just crazy! Apparently, Cade brought an old truck to his place together with Lucas. Cade Yeager is a single father of Tessa Yeager. His wife sadly passed away when Tessa was young and since then Cade took care of his daughter. He became overprotective and even made a rule to not bring any boys to the house! He meant it to his daughter of course. There was a woman named Y/N L/N. She's 20 years old. She's a mechanic and helps her cousin, Cade, a lot. Yes, Y/N is 3 years older than Tessa. She loves the girl a lot but she also knows her secret: Tessa has a boyfriend named Shane. He's 20 years old as well. Now, Cade didn't know it at first until... random shit happened. The truck is a Transformer named Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots. He's being hunted by KSI and that's why he's hiding. He got separated from his team and Ratchet got sadly killed... Sam Witwicky, along with his girlfriend, mysteriously disappeared.

The old truck transformed inside Cade's barn and man, he's mad! He obviously had his reasons to be mad. Y/N and Cade manage to calm him down. While they both started to fix him, the Prime fell his optics on the 20-year-old mechanic girl. She's just so beautiful...

Anyway, the story continued and Lucas got killed sadly. Everyone was sad that they lost a friend. The adventure continued and yadda, yadda, yadda. Let's get to the point of view now. The church. (I couldn't find a video where the church part scene played).

Everyone is now at the church, hiding. It was safe at least! Optimus and Cade are chatting while others are doing their stuff. Tessa is on her phone, checking random stuff out. It made Y/N very nervous. She has a secret and she didn't want others to find out. She made a video once where she dressed in every Victoria's Secret outfit. She even catwalked in her video for Primus's sake! She thought that no one would ever find out... She's wrong.

Tessa scrolled through her phone until she came across a video on YouTube made by Y/N. She watched it quietly until she smirked. "Oh, Y/N!~"

Y/N looks at Tessa and she got nervous when she saw the look on Tessa's face. "W-What is it?"

"You never told me how well can you catwalk while being in Victoria's Secret outfits."~

That caught Cade's attention as he stopped talking to Optimus and looks shocked at Y/N. "Y/N, you did what?!"

"I-It's not what it looks like!" She waved her hands in defense.

Tessa then showed it to Bumblebee or just Bee, the youngest one of the group and a scout. He showed it to the big screen, causing Y/N to yell "No!" and hide her face in her hands. She just wanted to disappear...

Other bots whistled while Cade looks shocked. Tessa still smirked. Shane then entered the church. "Hey, what's going- Oh God..." He looks shocked. Optimus Prime, on the other hand, has dirty minds in his processor. It's just that... that Victoria's Secret's outfits and catwalks... He just wants to take her now.

Cade seems to notice it. He got told by Optimus that he has a crush on her. He smirked in secret.

Optimus then decided to shock others and make Y/N more flustered. He watched how Y/N slowly showed her face and then the Prime, literally... teased her in a kinky way! No kidding! He did it! Y/N looks more flustered while others looked shocked.

Cade then looks up at the leader. "You know, I'd be happy for u that she'll be your girlfriend. She really needs it."

Tessa then complained. "Really, daddy? Why is she allowed to have a boyfriend and not me?" She looks also annoyed.

"You're not just at her age, sweetie," Cade answered calmly.

"Cade!" Y/N shouted embarrassed.

What Optimus suddenly said made Y/N faint. "Well, I don't mind at all being with her." She then made eye contact with him and saw him smirking. She then fainted.

At night~

The night arrived and everyone went to sleep. Well, almost everyone. The Autobots made sure to watch over and that the humans are comfortable to sleep. Y/N stayed awake and just couldn't sleep. She's now watching the night sky. There's an abandoned train close by and that's where humans slept. More surprisingly, it had comfortable chairs.

"You need to get some recharge, Y/N," said a familiar deep voice.

Y/N gasps and turned around to see Optimus but around her height. Looks like he made himself small. He then stood right behind her, pressing his tank and chassis area against her back. Y/N shivered from the contact. Let's just say that she's was getting turned on. It's just that it was getting sexual. Optimus then placed his servos on her hips and kissing her neck. "Do you really love me, sweetspark?"

"Y-Yes." She then gasped because of the air when her extremely loose blouse was pulled down, exposing her with Victoria Secret's sexy lace bra and panties. She heard Optimus growl. "You're so sexy that I want to take you."

Then Y/N's eyes were full of lust. She felt so wet that her pussy was throbbing, begging to be taken. She panted as heat builds up, making the Prime smirk. He then turned her around and his optics were full of lust when he saw her front body. He fo course finds her beautiful. He then smashed his dermas against t her soft lips. His servos traveled down right on her ass, squeezing it. Y/N moaned as she jumps and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"My spike wants to be inside of you ever since I discovered your dirty secret," Optimus growled.

"Take me.~"

He walks inside the train, where no one else was there. At least, they'll be 'busy' this night ;). He found a comfortable seat and laid Y/N down, while still kissing her. His glossa was fighting against her tongue while servos were rubbing her entire body, squeezing her breasts and her ass. Y/N moaned loudly and Optimus pulled away, causing them to pant.

"I'm taking you tonight."

Then Y/N decided to TAKE HIM instead of him her. She pinned him down, causing the Prime to look surprised when Y/N made him sit up with her straddling on his lap. He then purred and growled lowly, causing Y/N to smirk and grind on his lap. He placed his servos on her ass and pulled her panties down until they're at the ankles so they're not fully off. He used his digit to rub her clit and pump her, causing the female human to let out moans and arch her back. Optimus smashed his dermas against her lips as his free servo traveled up to her breasts. He simply pulled it up a bit until the breasts are out and squeezed them.

"O-Optimus.~"

Optimus purred as he continued for like thirty seconds before stopping, causing to growl in annoyance but then she smirked as she saw his big hard in the air. She lifted herself up and 'accidentally' slammed right into his spike, causing both the bot and human to moan loudly. Y/N hurtled herself a tiny bit but pleasure quickly took over and started to very sexually grinding, riding and dancing at the same time on Optimus' lap. The Prime watched in awe and grunted. He couldn't help but place his servos o her hips, feeling her moving.

"S-Sweetspark.~"

"You like that, Bossbot?" She's teasing him while still smirking and moving.

Optimus growled but doesn't care right now. His optics were watching Y/N's EVERY move. He felt like in heaven. He just loves the sexy human femme that was sitting on him, doing sexual moves while having sex on his lap.

"A-Ahh! Optimus, y-you're so big, hard, and handsome," Y/N panted while having a lovely and sexy expression on her face.

Optimus felt his spark beating fast while showing exactly the same expression. "You t-take my spike so well, sweetspark. I'd like to have a family with y-you in the future." He also grunted a few times.

Y/N giggles and kisses him with so passion that she and Optimus were both lost in so much love that Y/N didn't notice that Optimus started to thrust up roughly, slamming into her many times like dominant Autobot.

"A-Ah! Oh my G-God!" She panted and moaned while Optimus lowly purred and smirked. "I-I'm cumming!"

"Then cume for me, sweetspark. I'll fill you up so well.~" He whispered lowly into her ear, causing Y/N to squeak and blush bright red.

Optimus then grunted when he slammed one last time and released his transfluid. Y/N screamed so quietly that Optimus found it cute like from Japanese anime. Y/N panted and sighed in bliss. She was then gently lifted up so that Optimus' spike would come out. It was limp. Optimus then laid down with Y/N on top of him. He covered his mate up with a blanket and kissed her forehead. Both of them fell asleep.

[imababblekat]

Imagine Jazz Not Wanting To Leave Behind His Human S/O

~

He doesn’t want to leave, not yet, not when he just went through a near world ending battle and lost a friend. Jazz wants to stay behind, even if for just a little while, so that he can have a chance to get some rest and let things go over, all while in the company of you. When he first came to Earth, he’d never expected how much he’d want to stay until he met you. Now, he has to leave and he’s not sure if or when he can come back. It wouldn’t be such a worry, but time passes differently for humans. To him, he could be gone for a few years, but to you, those few years could end being your entire lifetime.

If he were able to, Jazz would take you with him in a spark pulse, but he knows he can’t. Taking you would put you in danger with Sentinel in place as the new Magnus. Yeah, Sari’s going with the Autobot heroes, but even as a half organic, she’s still much safer on Cybertron then you are. Let’s not forget how Jazz had basically betrayed Sentinel to come help Optimus and his friends. If he brought you along, who knows what Sentinel might do to you as backlash against him.

It’s all so much, and he wants nothing more than for everything to take a moment and slow down. Even with a visor in place of optics, you can tell all this. You see it in the way his frame is stiff, rather then lax and cool. He’s short in his answers when helping to prepare for takeoff, sometimes giving nothing more than a distant nod before proceeding to the task given. Now with everything in place and only a few moments to spare, you can feel how these few moments are not enough for him.

“Jazz. . .”, you call softly, pulling the Elite Guardian out of his woes.

“Everything’ll be okay.”

You sound so sure about that, your comforting smile emboldening your words. Jazz frowns, lowering to a knee and holding out his servo for you to step onto. He raises you up, so that he can better see you and commit your image to memory so that he has something to look back on when he particularly misses you, though he knows it won’t be anything compared to the real sight of you. In this close proximity, you have a better view of him as well, and your heart breaks at the deepened frowned settled upon his usually happy face.

“I’ll come back, I promise.”

The corners of your eyes crinkle as you smile from his words. You know that he will, if he is ever able to. You reach out, palm open and without hesitation Jazz leans forward to meet it. He gives your small hand a gentle, long kiss, before resting his cheek in place as you feel one another for most likely the last time, and his spark plummets in it’s chamber and shatters at the thought.

~xXx~

[dragons-socks]

Baby Bumblebee chptr 2

Bumblebee woke up inside Ironhide. He was paralyzed with confusion and fear until the morning’s findings came back to him. He was human, smaller than Sam even. He ran his fingers against the leather of his comrade. It was smooth, but also had small textures where the seams of the seats were. Such a small detail the autobot usually doesn’t notice. Did his own seats feel like this? Lennox asked how he was feeling, but how could he explain to the human how lost he was. How could he put into words he couldn’t use that he didn’t know what to do?

He already knew Optimus didn’t want him, and while Ironhide was trying to explain what Lennox had earlier, it just made his chest ache. It took so long for them to reach Lennox’s house. He could have done it faster in his alt form. A form that was gone, along with everything else. Bee tried to get out of Ironhide but his legs were still weak and Lennox had to pull him out. It was humiliating and Bee couldn’t help but feel his eyes burn and feel wet at the same time.

“Bee, you remember Sarah, right?” Lennox asked, gesturing to his wife. Bee did remember the woman. She was nicer than Sam’s parents at least.

“Welcome to the family, Bumblebee.” The way she said that. The way she smiled and tried to touch his hair. The way that everyone just decided this is where he was going to be without him. His eyes started to leak and soft hics and huffs pushed past his mouth. Bee stumbled away, hiding behind the large wheels of Ironhide.

The mech gently transformed into his biped form and shielded the kid from the humans.

Bee chirped and tsked and tried to talk to the autobot. He wanted to go back to Optimus. He promised he wouldn’t get underfoot. He would even help Ratchet without complaining. He can be useful still.

“I can’t understand you anymore, Bee.” Ironhide said solemnly. “But I can guess. And I promise by the All Spark, I will not leave you.”

Lennox was back by Bee’s side coaxing him into his house and onto a couch that he shouldn’t be able to fit on. Bee sat there, curled up in a soft yellow blanket and cloths that didn’t quite fit him. He could hear Lennox and Sarah talking in their kitchen as the wife made food.

“We can’t just harbor a child, Will. So what’s your plan?” Sarah asked in a hushed whisper, but still loud enough for the autobot to hear.

“We’ve got people drawing up paperwork so anyone looking too hard will just find a kid that we’ve adopted. That’s the hard part, and it’s being taken care of.” Lennox replied.

“The hard part? The hard part is getting him culturized as a human. To get him into a school, and accustomed to our world on such an intimate level. The hard part is making sure we understand him, Will. At least as a giant robot he had the ability to use the radio as his voice.” Sarah ran a hand down her face.

“You don’t give Sam credit enough of showing Bumblebee human culture.” Lennox tried to lighten the mood, but Sarah wasn’t having it.

“Are we changing his name?” She asked.

“What?” Lennox jeered back. “Why would we change his name?”

“It’s Bumblebee, like an insect. Who is going to believe someone named their child after an insect?” Sarah shook her head.

“If Jay-Z adn Beyonce can name their kid ‘Blue Ivy’. Bumblebee can keep his name. Plus it’s not like he’s an actual eight year old. He just looks eight. He’s got tough skin.” Lennox shook his head. “You’re worrying too much, babe. It’ll work out in the end, just take it one day at a time. Just like we do with Annabell.”

Bumblebee huddled further into his nest in the corner of the couch. He tried to tune out the conversation in the kitchen and watch the television. The house soon filled with a strange sent. Bee beeped with urgency rolling off the couch and running to the humans, tugging on Lennox’s pant leg to get him to leave his house with his wife and kid. Something was trying to poison them!

“What’s up, Bee?” Lennox asked, not seeming to be alarmed by the sent. So Bee touched his nose, looking around, trying to get the message across. “Yeah, it does smell good. Sarah’s almost done making dinner.”

Be turned to Sarah as she put piles of steaming things onto plates and brought them to the table. While most of the smell stayed in the kitchen, the plates also carried the same scent. Which meant Sarah was either trying to kill everyone. Or this was a weird human thing.

“Come sit down, Bee.” Sarah patted a chair on their small kitchen table. He shuffled to the chair and had to sit on his knees to be able to see and reach everything properly. He watched as Sarah and Lennox began eating with the small silver things. He copied them, but found it was a lot harder than he thought as he fisted the fork and stabbed it into the meal. Once on the fork he watched as the others chomped down and mashed it up with their teeth and jaws.

The sensation was weird, hot and inside him. It turned into a sort of paste that wasn’t enjoyable to feel at all, but the taste was nice. It coated his tongue and made him feel happy. But after a while of chewing he grew bored. He couldn’t tell what was aking their food vanish and make room for more? Until his mouthful got close to the back of his throat, which convulsed automatically and the food vanished. Bee dropped his fork and started to panic.

“Hey, it’s okay. That’s normal, kid. It’s called eating.” Lennox was by his side in a moment, patting his back as Bee tried to couch his heart out. Bee let out shrieks and hisses, clinging to the man. Once he calmed down Lennox tried to return him to his dinner, but Bee outright refused to eat. It was a terrible experience. His stomach even growled and roared with unwant.

“You gotta eat, kid.” Bee shook his head, baring his teeth and growling at his food along with his stomach.

“Bumblebee, you’re tummy is trying to tell you that it needs more.” Sarah crotched down next to the child. “I promise it gets better. And you’ll feel better once you eat.” Bee shook his head again, looking away from the plate.

“I’ll let you see Sam if you eat.” Lennox said. Sam? Bee blinked, cocking his head. “Yeah, you can hang out with him and Mikaela.” Bee nodded and took another bite of the food. He didn’t want to let it down his throat but Lennox’s continual promise that this is how it worked quelled some of Bee’s anxieties. It took a whole hour to finish the plate. At the end, Bee didn’t exactly feel better, but he did feel less tired.

That was when Annabell was dropped off by the babysitter.

“Oh, it’s nice to see you home, Captain Lennox.” The girl, about Sam’s age, waved as Lennox was pulling Bumblebee out of a kitchen cabinet.

“Hello, Kasey. Thanks again for looking after Annabell.” Lennox approached, Bee held like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. Bumblebee chittered and tried to crawl out of his capture, almost kicking Lennox in the face.

“Who’s the kid?” Kasey narrowed her eyes at the eight year old.

“A friend of mine passed. We’ve decided to look after the kid in his absence.” Lennox explained.

“Sure, just know I take double for any additions.” She threatened before kneeling down. “Byebye Annabell. See ya, later.”

“Byebye Kasey.” Annabell laughed before turning to her dad. “Who’s that?”

“This is Bumblebee, Baby girl. He’s gonna be living with us.”

“Like the car? Vroom?” She looked at the boy, who looked down at her and made rumbling noises in his chest.

“Sort of, yeah. Why don’t you go put your stuff away in your room and you two can play before bed time?” She nodded and grabbed her bag, running to her room. Be gave an irritated chirp. He didn’t want to play with a baby human. He wanted to go into the tiny dark closet and be alone. He wanted to be with Sam. He wanted to be with Optimus and the others, but that wasn’t going to be an option. “Just be nice. And don’t make her cry.” Lennox warned.

Sarah came out of her room with a hand full of toys, dropping them down in the middle of the living room before grabbing onto Bumblebee and pulling him to sit with her around the pile. She picked up each one and explained them and what she named them. Bee didn’t really care about the multitudes of plastic human females or the tiny plastic horses. He did, however, find a set of tiny cars. There was a yellow car, with white stripes and one of the wheels was missing. He picked it up and looked at it.

“And you can be the boy.” Annabell thrusted a doll into Bee’s face. He made a few chirps, lifting up the toy car. “No, we’re playing house, not cars.” Annabell pouted.

Bee pushed the human toy away and grabbed the car. He didn’t want to pretend to be a human. He was already one, and it wasn’t fun. He wanted to be a car. He said as much in his huffs and tsks. The smaller child didn’t understand morse code, not like her dad.

“No, you can’t be a car!” Annabell shouted, yanking the toy from his hands. He felt his fists ball up, but he wasn’t allowed to hurt humans. Optimus would surely never take him back if he broke that rule. So he took deep breathes like he sees Lennox do when dealing with the twins or his own men. “You have to be the human!”

Bumblebee chirped angrily, ignoring the girl and picking the car back up. She stomped her foot and snatched the car once again, forcing the doll into Bumblebee’s hand and threw the car down the hall so hard another wheel popped off. Bumblebee stood there, glaring at the stupid human doll. It was tiny, and frail, almost as humans were to Bee just a day ago. He looked at the girl and threw the toy as she did the car. It hit the corner of the wall and it’s head popped off. The girl start to wail, but Bee didn’t care. He stormed out of the house and climbed into Ironhide’s passenger side.

“I can’t take you anywhere, kid.” Ironhide said, sending a text to Lennox that Bee was safe with him if the man was looking. Bee nodded, letting out a string of wobbling chirps. He just wanted to be away from the other humans. He didn’t have to be elsewhere. Bee didn’t stay alone for long. Lennox pulled open the door, an angry look on his face.

“I said not to make her cry, Bumblebee.” Lennox’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was angry. Bee didn’t turn to the human. She was the one who threw the car first, so Bee could just claim he thought that was the game they were playing. He knew it was a lie, but what did he care? “I know you know not to throw things. You aren’t an actual child. Why did you do it.”

She did it first. Morse code took a long time to spell out, each letter having to be chirped out one at a time. It almost made Bee miss his binary-talk when his vocoder had first broken.

“She is a child.” Lennox’s arms were crossed. Bee shrunk down at that, holding his knees tighter to his body but still not turning to look at the captain. “What made you think that breaking the toys was okay?”

I don’t want to be a human. Bee chittered.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a brat.” Lennox was still angry.

I don’t want to be a human and I don’t want to pretend-play a human. I just wanted the stupid toy car, and she doesn’t know morse code. And she was the one to throw it first. I - Bee trailed off after that, his eyes were leaking again. I’m sorry

Lennox relaxed, uncrossing his arms and running a hand down his face. He leaned more casually against Ironhide’s door frame. The mech rumbled his engines to send soothing vibrations to the kid in his seat.

“You’ve been having a rough day, huh Bee?” Lennox’s voice was soft, like he used back in the hospital and to get Bee to continue to eat. It rumbled like an engine, but was smooth and silk-like all the same. Bee nodded into his knees. He took a deep breath. “I’ll be back in a second.”

Bee relaxed a little bit as the human left. He smashed his face into Ironhide’s cool seats and let the soft rumbling lull him into a drowsy state. The mech didn’t say his concerns out loud, letting his thoughts text out to Lennox so Bee wouldn’t be so frightened and stressed. And Ironhide was no medic, but he was around Ratchet long enough to understand and make a few theories on his own. Bumblebee usually acted childish, and could be rash at time, but never like this. If the chemicals of a human child flowed through him, he could very well have the emotional outlook and developlement of what this body allowed him to have. In other words, if Bee’s body was eight, he might have the emotional mentality of his body.

Lennox came back, opening up the driver’s door and getting in.

“We’re going for a drive.” Lennox said, and Ironhide revved up his engine and pulled out of the house. Bee didn’t make any move to acknowledge the man, but as the minutes grew longer and the silence stretched one, it was either find himself falling asleep or engage with the human.

Where are we going?

“Just one a ride, kid.”

They didn’t get back to the house until the moon was already high in the sky, and Bee was this side of staying conscious. Lennox helped him through the house and back onto the couch, making a list of everything they needed to get for the kid to be comfortable. But that was a job for tomorrow.

[starvonnie]

That Wasn’t An Option

Day 2 of Megarod Week

Prompt: Misunderstanding

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Fandoms: The Transformers (IDW Generation One),Transformers - All Media Types Relationship: Megatron/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime Characters: Megatron (Transformers), Rodimus | Rodimus Prime, Ravage (Transformers) Additional Tags: Kissing, Love Confessions, Misunderstandings

Also on AO3

Oh.

That’s his first thought when he finally puts all the pieces together.

Oh no.

That’s his next thought.

Rodimus walks off the bridge, and the smile that had just disappeared from view was what finally clued him in.  How dense had he been?  Had it really been that long since someone flirted with him? And the more he looked back, the longer he’d realized it had been.  Far too long to shut it down.  At least, not without some sparkbreak.

Megatron did his best to carry on business as usual, but every smile, every brush of fingers… was it intentional?  Did he mean to just touch his shoulder with his spoiler?  

It was torture.

“You’re working too much again,” Ravage said as he entered the office.

Megatron lifted tired optics from the reports. And it was no wonder, given what time it was.  

“I lost track of time,” he half-lied.  While he had lost track of time, that had been his intention.  To tire himself out to the point that he immediately fell into recharge, lest he have time to stew in all these new thoughts and feelings.

“Uh huh.  Nothing to do with your co-captain?”

Megatron threw an almost-glare his way.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not stupid, Megatron.  I can understand how a bunch of Autobots haven’t noticed, but it’s painfully obvious.  I’m sick of you moping around your habsuite, sighing and writing poetry.  It’s bad enough that you fell in love with him.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Yes you do.  Just tell him you like him already.”  Ravage jumped up on the desk and sat on Megatron’s work.  “He’s clearly into you.”

“I can’t be with a mech like Rodimus, Ravage.”

“Why not?”

Megatron sighed.  “Would you like an itemized list?”

“That would be helpful, yes.”

“Well, for one, he’s—”

They both looked up when they heard pedesteps coming from the hall.

“Let’s continue this conversation in my habsuite,” Megatron said.

“And then you get some recharge.  You look terrible.”

“Thank you, Ravage,” Megatron said, growling the words out.

 Rodimus didn’t smile at him that morning. Odd.  It hurt more than he cared to admit.  

“Good morning, Rodimus,” he greeted him.

“Yeah, whatever.”  Rodimus trudged past him without so much as a glance.

Megatron followed him, trying to be inconspicuous. He made a beeline for the captain’s chair and slumped down into it.  Megatron pretended to be interested in some star charts before leaning towards him and asking quietly, “Are you alright?”

“What do you care?” Rodimus shot back, not even attempting to keep his voice down.

Megatron paused, feeling some of the crew’s optics on him.  “You’re my co-captain,” he said a little too fondly.  He leaned down to lower his voice further.  “I just want to make sure nothing’s troubling you.”

Rodimus smacked him with his spoiler. Intentional or not, he didn’t apologize.

Megatron decided it was best to leave him be, despite how his spark ached.  At least this solved his problem.  If Rodimus hated him for some reason, all he had to deal with was his own feelings.

Simple enough.

Or it should have been.

Every time he saw Rodimus, instead of a smile, he got a scowl.  He never initiated conversations anymore, and he’d overheard him beg Ultra Magnus to switch shifts with him enough times.

It hurt.  Even though he knew he couldn’t—shouldn’t—act on his feelings, it didn’t stop the longing. He had to stop himself from staring. From lingering in his field.  From watching him out of the corner of his optic, because that was the only way he ever got to see him smile anymore.  Hell, he was warmer with Thunderclash.

The worst part, though, was that first time they were both stuck late after a shift.  The rest of the crew had been dismissed, and it was just him, Rodimus, and a pile of data pads that nearly reached the ceiling.

Rodimus scowled down at them.  He angrily tapped the screen and scratched them as he scrolled. When he was finished, he tossed it. At least half of them ended up on the floor, and a few of them broke.

“Rodimus,” Megatron scolded when he basically threw the latest data pad on the floor.  It shattered, spilling bits of glass across the floor.

“What?” he snapped.

Megatron forced his hackles down and softened his gaze. “It’s been weeks, Rodimus.  What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.  I just fucking hate paperwork.”

“Something’s clearly wrong.  And it was obviously something I did, since I’ve been the only one on the receiving end of this new attitude.  So, you can either tell me what’s wrong and I’ll finish what’s left, or I leave so you don’t have to be around me, but then you’ll have double the work.  What’s it going to be, Rodimus?”

“Fuck you.”

“That wasn’t an option.”

Rodimus’ face turned bright red.  “It’s not like you’d want to anyways!”

“I—excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb.  I heard what you said.”  Rodimus crossed his arms and turned away.  “Not that I care.”

Megatron sighed.  “Rodimus, I assure you, I have no idea what you’re getting at.  This will be a lot easier if you just talk to me.”

Rodimus ran his hands down his face.  “Can you just leave me alone?”

“I can…”  Megatron carefully placed the report on the table.  “I will if that’s what you want.  We can have a strictly professional relationship and only talk about work, but…”

Rodimus’ spoiler perked up.  He turned back slightly, one curious optic finding Megatron. “… But?”

Megatron sighed again.  “I just want to know what I did.  And I know it was something I did, since you’re only treating me differently.”

Rodimus was silent for a while.  Eventually, he said, “I overheard what you said to Ravage.”

“What do you mean?”

Rodimus growled.  “There’s no way you’re this fucking dense… when you said you could never be with a mech like me!”

A tense silence followed his words.

“Rodimus, that was—”

“You don’t need to explain yourself.  I get it, okay?  I wouldn’t want to be with me either.”

“I do want to be with you.”

Rodimus scoffed.  “I don’t need your pity!  I know what I heard!”

“That is what I said, but what I meant was—”

“Can you just shut up?  I don’t want to waste anymore time on you if you’re—”

Megatron kissed him.  It was simultaneously the stupidest thing he’d ever down and the best thing he’d ever done.  He made it quick, though.  As much as he wanted to linger and pull him close, he stopped himself.  He had to tell Rodimus the truth, first.

“Please.  Let me explain.”

Rodimus just stared, his optics cycled wide.

“When I said I can’t be with a mech like you, I meant that I don’t want to bring you down.  I don’t want to give myself to you, because I don’t have nearly enough time to give you.  It’s not fair to you.”

Rodimus furrowed his brow.  “Says you.”

“Rodimus, it’s what’s best for—”

Rodimus interrupted his excuses with another kiss. And this time, he hooked his arms around Megatron and made it hard to escape him.  Not that he wanted to.  In fact, he pulled Rodimus closer.  Deepened the kiss.  Parted his lips to let his glossa slide along Rodimus’.  He even went so far as to pull Rodimus into his lap.  

When they finally parted, Rodimus, his lips still close enough to brush, asked, “Do you really wanna be with me, Megs?”

“Yes.”

“Then be with me.  Idiot.  I want you, too.”

“But—”

“No buts!  All that matters is that we want to be together.  You’re not saving me by staying away you’re just pissing me off.”

Rodimus’ pout was endearing.

Megatron relaxed, chuckling.  “Alright, Rodimus.”  He cupped his cheek and gently stroked his finials.  

He smiled.  “Good.  Now, when you’re done with all of this,” he gestured to the pile of data pads, “you can come to my room and we can get better acquainted.”  He hopped off of Megatron’s lap.

“Where are you going?”

Rodimus turned, smiling.  “You said if I told you what was wrong, you would finish the work.”

“You didn’t tell me, I had to wring it out of you!”

Rodimus shrugged.  “Shoulda put that in the fine print.  See you in a few hours, Megs.”  He stopped just before the door, turning back to add, “After all that work, I’m sure you’ll need a little… stress relief.”  

Megatron was a little embarrassed by how quickly he finished.

[tfw-no-tennis]

mtmte liveblog issue 36

time travel arccccccccccccc yessssssssss

I have been waiting SO LONG to reread this arc hhhhh yessss

starting off strong with the sexy roller cover. nice

I love the disconnect of ‘orion pax: outlaw’ compared to the last time we saw him in shadowplay where he was orion pax: supercop

he’s still punching people for JUSTICE or whatever so I guess not much has changed

oh my god this is the issue with the many many two-page spreads...the first time I read this issue I didn't realize that was a thing and GOD I was SO fucking confused. there's already a lot going on in this issue/arc but this made things so much worse hvbhjkdfbsk. I powered thru and still managed to understand most of the arc despite reading half this issue out of order (essentially) bc the website I read it on split the pages up and I couldn't tell they were supposed to be doubled (and also I'm dumb so I didn't figure it out)

anyways, the actual issue...windcharger is out here using his powers to rip a dudes arms clean off. wow!

and there's skids getting punched in the face. Ls

and glitch! a totally minor character of course...

MANNNNN I SO adore the panel of all the lost lighters appearing in a cloud of purple smoke, all posing epically....SO fucking good, peak sci-fi coolness vibes, A++

as usual jro killing it w/the titles, ‘elegant chaos’ is such a great name for a time travel arc

also reading the tfwiki has shown me that many of jros titles are song or album titles, to which I say - that's epic and I love it. with jro doing it, I feel like it straddles the line between referencing music and the very fanfic-esque ‘title things after music’ vibe. I love it

oh god I forgot they use bs cybertronian time units in this sometimes lmao...I mean of course they do but still like, what the fuck is a cycle. is that a day. I feel like these words all have no meaning/the meanings change drastically depending on continuity. I cant keep up and also I'm lazy and don't care enough to try

I love rodimus did u know

poor riptide looks so confused lmao

IS....IS REWIND PIGGYBACKING TAILGATE...THATS SO FUCKING CUTE....I cant fully tell bc of the page layout but ooomg so precious. minibot buddies

whirl saying ‘chuff’ just reminded me how british jro is hvbhakjhdsfbs sometimes it just Jumps Out in mtmte and I'm like Oh God Britain Is Real

I really like the mtmte approach to time travel and paradoxes and whatnot. its just complex enough to be interesting but not too convoluted that it bogs down the story. perfect sci-fi fun!

mannnn chromedome talking abt brainstorm :( I'm sad abt those two hhhhh

and I love how at this point, nobody in the cast ACTUALLY knows brainstorm well enough to know what he’s really doing - including chromedome, who’s ostensibly his closest friend, somebody he’s known for a while - and even the readers don't really know what he’s up to...I like the mystery tbh

cant believe rewind wrote orion pax’s biography, omg. completely forgot abt that detail

cd saying ‘I love it when he talks history’ about rewind....hhhh I love cdrw so muuuuch

godddd the line rodimus says abt whirl - how they need people like whirl around who are ‘happy to get in the way’ of danger and death - that shit haunts me man like...rodimus is basically saying that he’s bringing whirl along to potentially die in place of someone like orion pax (nevermind the fact that whirl dying would ALSO fuck up the timeline)...like, how deep does it go?? is he saying that bc he knows whirl has been trying to get himself killed for a while now, or just bc whirl likes violence? mannn I cant...the character intricacies...man

anyways...I love rodimus he’s such an interesting character. you have that fucked up moment and then in the next panel he’s saying ‘if you want to call it a time phone, I wont stop you’ about the quantum walkie-talkie. he has the RANGE

oh and then rodimus casually volunteering chromedome to do mnemosurgery on anyone who might accidentally find out about them time traveling, which is again fucked up on multiple levels. the raaaaange

vjaksbhdhfusajbfdjk that panel of the lost light squad just standing there like idiots reminds me of that post where someone said abt that panel ‘these characters have a collective 3 brain cells’ or something hvbjadkfnksfdl

rodimus IMMEDIATELY breaking his own rules by trying to reassure pax that they're good guys by pointing at his autobot badge, even tho the autobots DONT EVEN EXIST YET at this point...my boy PLEASE go purchase some brain cells from the store 

and the fact that rodimus introduced himself to pax w/his real name...shouldn't he go by an alias or st??? that seems like a good time travel rule since optimus and rodimus definitely know each other later 

and like, did they not anticipate that some of the people in the past would recognize some of the lost lighters hgbajkhdjfnjksf like cd and whirl get Instantly recognized...great job guys

they are all SO bad at this hvbahskjdhfbasjkf I cantttt luckily for them the orion crew is handing them easy alibis 

‘the dugout’ is that a baseball reference????

also I love the scenery here, the bg looks like rock but there's metal piping and stuff running thru it, its so cool...really adds to the whole ‘cybertron biomes are made of metal’ thing

‘ancient history’ rodimus are you KIDDING ME-

cyclonus time travels to the past and IMMEDIATELY finds a window to stare broodingly out of. icon

tailgate thinking orion pax is SUPER COOL continues here from shadowplay and I love it...tailgate is so cute

and the tg saying ‘don't you think that's awesome, cyclonus?’ hhhhh so cute

one reason I love this arc so much is that this is the arc where the gay Really amps up 

TRAILBREAKER.... oh man ;_;

are you telling me that this outlaw base they're in has ONE bed for all of these people. what the hell vhbaksjhfnsal

cant believe rung sampled roller’s steroid juice box

also cant believe robot steroids exist. except yes I can and I love it

oooh roller’s a 0/1%er? I forgot abt that 

cant believe orion pax just grabs some random phone that belongs to these weird new people and answers it. WHO does that

goddddd megatron and orion’s conversation....destroy me

HHHHHH like...the HISTORY....the regret...the missed opportunities...its all so palpable....goddddddd

and of COURSE, the whole thing is steeped in tragedy...the ideological differences that will become the foundation for a 4 million year long war...megatron, who believes that you need to burn things down and start again to really make change stick, and then orion, who says ‘reform is the answer, not revolution’....AUGHHH the intricacies. mannnn

‘you sound lost’ 😭😭😭

‘its tragic.’ yeah, that about sums up their relationship, especially at this stage and in this continuity 

anyways. [cries about old man megatron talking to young naïve orion pax] goodbye

AUGHHH and then we jump to rodimus ONCE AGAIN breaking his own rules and trying to save trailbreaker...IT HURTS MAN...god I love rodimus, I feel like him being broken up about crewmembers like trailbreaker dying is one part regular sadness over people he knows dying for tragic reasons, and one part personal guilt at someone under his command dying, even if he’s not involved/at fault. I love the dichotomy of this emotional reaction that comes only partially from empathy/emotion, but also comes from a kinda self-centered need for success as measured by people under your command staying alive. and taking into account rodimus’s life it totally makes sense that he’d act like that...GAH I love it. the complexity of it all!

orion pax saying ‘you should read [megatron]. it’s powerful stuff’ I'm screaming, so many LAYERSSSSS

I fucking love time travel AHHHHHHHHH like the opportunity for interactions like these....chefs kiss

‘hey, best friend! miss you!’ rodimus is such a shit hvbdajkfksjhfd 

‘very sus’ rodimus ahead of his time w/the among us lingo

oooh and then they realize that the senate is trying to kill the sparks...gotta save the babies!

tailgate scolding cyclonus for bluntly stating that you'd wanna be subtle when killing newborns...hhhvbhsdfhhhhhh I love them sm

ooooh and rewind has an interesting suggestion - that the senate is actually trying to irradiate the sparks into being outliers...rewind is so smart I love him

and the fact that he’s using history from his database...love it

rodimus sending cyclonus and whirl out like pokemon

ROLLER NOOOO DONT GO OUT THERE

also wow this is literally the 5th (I think) double page spread in this issue...the confusion I felt the first time I read this...lmao 

and now this is literally one of my favorite issues so I'm glad I know what's going on lmao

oh man rodimus telling cd not to erase trailbreakers memory even tho that could jeopardize the entire timeline... :( 

oh man I didn't even notice but roller getting debris blasted into his face like that makes the whole ‘roller is tarn’ theory even more legit considering tarn’s face scars....

‘tighter the better’ hhh don't say that orion. but also, that’s the companion phrase to megatron saying ‘the deeper the better’ hvbhasjkhdfbaksjlf

I do love the semi-campy action hero antics that orion pax gets up to. its just so fun, even when the stakes are high and things are serious

‘this is the greatest thing I have ever seen’ tg ily

THE REVEAL THAT THE SPARKS WENT TO NYON...so rodimus just saved himself, basically...time travel is so trippy

GODDDD ND THEN TRAILBREAKER...HVHHHHHh 😭😭😭 THATS SO CRUEL MAN

oh man that last panel of trailbreaker holding up roller’s juice box...iirc the first time I read this I thought that was roller (cause of the juice box I guess? idk I'm an idiot) so I was like oh ok he must've come back or something. very much related but I didn't really think about tarn being a particular pre-established character and totally didn't read the whole ‘roller is tarn’ thing that was going on 

which in my defense ruth also didn't pick up on any of that while reading this and eventually like 2 issues before the reveal I had to prompt her like ‘you should maybe be wondering WHO tarn is’ vhbahjksdfbaksjdf

so! issue 37! this issue is a solid favorite of mine, id say definitely top 5 or even 3. I'm super biased bc I fucking LOVE time travel, it’s seriously one of my favorite tropes ever, and this issue hits all the time travel beats I love. characters traveling to the past and interacting with people they know! conversations that have multiple meanings bc of TIME TRAVEL! trying to save someone who meets a terrible fate in your future! fun time travel action! the time traveling characters being generally terrible at hiding the fact that they're time travelers! ITS SO GOOD. 

and I love the clever way everything is tied together here - where we get a nice continuation of shadowplay, with this taking place shortly after that with a lot of the same cast, and time travel classics like the good ole ‘if we hadn't travelled back in time and done what we did, the future we came from wouldn't have existed at all,’ in the flavor of ‘rodimus saving his baby self’ and ‘rodimus NOT saving trailbreaker’ and ‘everyone forgot about roller :(’ 

ok but like, did the lost lighters just go ‘oh well, guess rollers gone now.’ like they DID realize that the outlaw crew would have no idea what happened to him if they got their memories erased, right?? did the lost lighters figure that since roller never reappeared after this time period, that was how history was ‘supposed’ to go and they shouldn't mess with it? am I overthinking it? as usual: yes, probably. I love overthinking about comics, in case that wasn't obvious

basically...I love this issue soooo much. so so good and a bunch of fun tropes that I love. I mean the whole arc is like that for me since I love time travel so much. so I cant wait to (re)read more!!

[moonlightdcon]

Moonlight’s beginning

chapter 3 

Not long after that discussion the greatest war Cybertron has ever seen began.

Megatronus became Megatron and he was leading the Decepticon cause. Soundwave stayed by side. Orion Pax was safe with the Autobots. Ratchet became the autobot medic. When Orion heard that Primus was starting to get hill, he went to seek him to help him. Primus turn Orion Pax into the great Optimus Prime. Since then, the two sparks mate became mortal enemies.

A few days later, Optimus went to his good friend Ratchet. He locked the door behind him as to have a private conversation with him. Ratchet stop what he was doing and walk up to him when he heard the door lock.

Ratchet: “I something wrong Optimus?” he saw that Optimus was uneasy.

Prime: “there is a pain in my spark chamber. Could you take a look please?”

Ratchet: “of course.” He took out his scanner for further inspection. His optics when wide when he discovered the source of the pain. “by the all spark.” He looks at him.

Prime: “what is it?” he seamed concerned now.

Ratchet: “it’s a sparkling… the matrix of leadership in your spark chamber that was given to you by Primus is taking the space the sparkling need to developpe. Meaning the sparkling was there before you became a Prime.” He tough for a moment. “we could remove it and place it in an incubator until it is fully ready… but what are we going to say to the others?” Optimus’ optics widen after hearing that it was a sparkling.

Prime: “do what must be done for the best of the both of us. As for the others I’ll take care of it.” After conformation, ratchet preceded to remove the sparkling. When the sparkling was in the incubator, Optimus proceeded to go look at his youngling. Just as he was about to touch it the alarm rang true the enterer base. Optimus was quick to return to the others and fight off the treat. Ratchet remained with the sparkling. He knew that the only one that could be its other half was Megatron. Maybe this sparkling could be the solution to end this war.

After multiples years, yet ions, the war caused Cybertron to go dark. Optimus along with a small group of autobots took refuge on a small planted named Earth. Their bass was located in an old missal center in Jasper Nevada. Only one human knew about them. But he wasn’t to found on being around them. With Optimus was Ratchet of course, Bulkhead an ex-wrecker, Cliff Jumper and Arcee the duo and Bumblebee the young scot. But with all the years that pass one bot grew and became a beautiful little autobot. Moonlight, Optimus’ daughter, she was only a little younger than Bee which cause them to become good friends. Moon was still in training so she wasn’t able to go on the field yet. But she was getting better and stronger each day. When Optimus would go on patrol, she and Bee would spare under the supervision of Bulkhead. Ratchet would be to overprotective even in a friendly match. Moon has managed to pin Bee to the ground and had one knee on his chest to keep him there. She smiled down at him as he puts his hands up in surrender.

Moon: “I win.” Bee just nods as a conformation. Since he lost his voice box he only communicates with beeping sounds. Just as Moon was going to get up and help him up, Optimus walk into the training room. He looks down at the two the at Bulkhead standing against the wall. Moon got up and helped Bee to his feet.

Prime: “what was going on here?” But he already knew.

Bulk: “they were just sparing. She is improving.” He smiled at her as he left the room to leave the trio alone.

Prime: “why wasn’t Ratchet supervising you?” Bee answered for the two of them. Moon only sighs and left the room. She went to her bedroom and sat on her makeshift bed. A soft knock on the door alerted her as the door opened only to reveal her father. the closed the door behind him and sat down next to her. He looked at her lovingly as a father should. He put his arm around her and pulled her close.

Prime: “you know that I just want to protected you.”

Moon: “I know but I’m sure that I’ll be able to handle myself out there if we even encounter any Cons.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I just want to help and not stay in the bass all the time with Ratchet. I felt useless.”

Prime: “you are not useless. There is more to you than bennet’s the eye. I was watching from the doorway as you both spared. You are ready to accompany us on missions now.” He gave her a soft kiss on the head before staying like this in a comfortable silence.

Three years later, we lost Cliff Jumper to the Decepticon. We also got three new little allies. Jack who as paired with Arcee, Miko who was with Bulkhead and little Rafael who was with Bumblebee. He already understood Bee so it was a good match. Optimus became more protective of Moonlight since the passing of Cliff Jumper. Later after that, we got a new ally. June, Jack’s mother. She was a very observing person. One day she came to the bass.

June: “hello doctor” as she greeted Ratchet. He tolerated her more then the kids.

As she made her way up onto the plate form. Optimus entered the main room with Moonlight. She watches as Moon walk up to Ratchet and whisper something to him.

June: “hello Optimus” he turned to look at her.

Prime: “hello June. How are you?” Before June could even answered Moon rush up to him with a big smiled. He smiled down at her and put a gentle hand on her head.

June: “she’s your daughter.” The trio of humans looked in Optimus’ direction.

Prime: “indeed she is.”

June: “who is her mother.” Both Optimus and Ratchet shared a look as Moonlight looked confused.

Miko: “yeah who’s her mom. she has to have one.”

Moon: “who is my other half?” she looked at Optimus with a hint of sadness in her optics. Optimus sighs and he shared a nod with Ratchet.

Prime: “you were created a few days before the war started. We always believed it would be best for you to not know your other half. But we cannot keep you in the dark for ever.” He looked straight into her optics. “it’s Megatron…” the room went silent. She couldn’t believe what she heard. Her other half was the Leader of the Decepticons. “But Megatron doesn’t know about you and we hope it would stay that way. You may be the only one that could put an end to this war. You know of my history with him but there is something that I didn’t tell you.”

Raf: “uhm…but is that even possible?”

Ratchet: “not like you humans, we only have to share our spark with someone that has the capacity of creating a sparkling. For example, Arcee will never be able to due to her form. Back when Cybertron was flowing with life, bots like Arcee could go to the well of spark to get a sparkling from there for the one that couldn’t create one of there own. Optimus before the war was known as Orion Pax and he and Megatronus were secretly spark mates. But the war torn them apart. The consul of the prime forbitten sparkling that came from the same male half. The reason is still unknown today and we may never know why.”

June: “sometimes thing are to remain a secret. But love is blind as we like to call it.” She smiled at the father daughter with understanding. Moon left to go to her room to think. She was stopped in her tracks by Bee grabbing her arm. He then pulled her close to give her a comforting hug as he knew she was upset of not knowing before. They stayed like that for sometime before pulling apart against there will. Bee returned to the others and she went to her room. She was writing down everything that saw said earlier. Then she called it a night and fell into a light sleep filed with question that need answers from both parts of her makers.

[winter-is-lost]

TRANSFORMERS : MTMTE

Rodimus x Cybertronian! Reader

Y/n = Your name

Y/f/c = Your frame colour

Warnings : I'm honestly gonna stop adding these 'warnings' cause trust me even I have absolutely no idea how it's gonna turn out. But I hope I can do well and hopefully, it turns out good. :)

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《 Reader's P.O.V.》

Betrayed...Tired..Exhausted...No. All this felt like an understatement.

..I was done..

My autobot badge, that I once wore with such pride and joy had long since lost it's shine, now rundown and broken, covered with my energon. One could only imagine how it still managed to hold on to me. Then again, I wasn't in a good shape either now, was I? No. I had managed to snag a ship and barely escaped.. My ship crashlanded on some random planet. I didn't care which as long as it was away from there.

Pulling myself out of the wreckage of my ship I proceeded to make my way towards an urban inhabited area. I struggled to maintain my balance, stumbling here and there before my body eventually gives up making me fall like an asteroid. I place my hands near me, trying to push myself off the ground.

A futile attempt...

..What's the use anyway..It's not like I have any place to go to...any one to return to..what does it matter..

I lay there on the ground. Bright red warning signs flashing infront of my sight. It was happening...Is this how I was gonna go...

I laid there for God knows how long before I heard the sounds of pedesteps rushing in my direction before coming to a stop near me.

I felt someone placing a servo on my shoulder plate and shaking it gently, as if in fear of causing any further harm to my already damaged body.

"-eed a doctor. You los-"...barely being able to listen, I somehow managed to catch a glimpse of the bot...Orange..with..with glasses.

"-be ok. Just..just hang in ther-"

That was the last thing I could make out before my optics offlined...

===============================

{ years later }

"-so, I think it would be a nice experience for us to go." Rung turned away from his datapads to look up at me with a soft smile gracing his faceplates.

We were both preparing for the journey we were to take part in. Rung informed me yesterday of a mech designated Broadi..no wait - Daud..no,no..YEAH! Rung informed me yesterday of a mech by the designation Rodimus who had proposed a journey across space in order to find the Knights of Cybertron.

Unsurprisingly, Rung wanted to leave on this journey too. Of course, not because of finding the Knights or anything, but because of his love for space ships and the journeys they bring.

I mean, it was pretty obvious to me as I was placing his models of the ark ships into a box so it would be easier to carry while he was making sure he handled all the data and knowledge of his clients properly before leaving.

"Yeah, you're right. It does seem like it's gonna be fun, so why not." I reply as I place another one of the models into the box.

It was kinda true. I was actually going along because of him.

You see, after the war has just barely ended mostly everyone knows how to fight. Then, there's Rung. Now, I don't mean to sound like I'm berating him but he just...he can't fight..he doesn't even have the build most average mechs have. On top of that, he's kind-hearted and a gentlemech, which is nice but makes it all the more easier for someone to harm him.

People are willing to use others for their own benefit, to achieve their goals, even the ones you know for the longest of time, trust me, I'd know...and that's where I come in. I make sure to keep him out of harm's way to the best of my abilities, he's someone that I care for and respect like a..a..what was the organic term for it...a brother, yup, like a brother. The universe needs more good people like him.

Besides...he did save me all those years back, so God forbid if I let anything happen to him. Of course, he doesn't know that..or maybe he does but just pretends that he doesn't, but let me tell you, aside from physical *ahem violent* confrontations, he can handle himself just fine - the guy's been aboard all the Ark ships, that's gotta mean something right.

===============================

"NEXT!"

Finally. After standing in the long line of passengers waiting to board the Lost Light for what seemed like a thousand cycles. It was finally our turn. Rung and I made our way towards the 'Head of Security' for one final inspection before being allowed aboard the ship. Since I was Rung's assisstant, sort of, I remember this guy, he was Rung's client for a couple of centuries. His name was..Red Alert, I think.

"ONE HUNDRED MILLION! That's an impressive serial code,..Er.." Red Alert looks up at Rung with a suprised expression plastered across his face plates. I clench my dentas together in an attempt to hold my laughter.

After everything and everyone was on board and with our ship Quantum jumping God knows where.

Everyone was called by Rodimus, the ship's captain for a debriefing about the current events. I didn't hear much because I don't know why but there was something about this guy...something familiar...weird because I don't remember seeing him before.

The longer I looked at him, that feeling of familiarity turned into a slight feeling of unknown dread settling itself into my fuel tanks.

The debriefing was done and everyone around me was leaving to handle the task at hand, just as I was going to leave as well, I ended up making eye contact with Rodimus.

That feeling of dread and slight anger mixed with some sadness came back to me as I stood there frozen in my spot. I could tell he felt something too just by the way his optics widened and his jaw hung open. As if something unexpected had happened. As if someone you had once lost to the realm of death had come back...

I saw his mouth move slightly, as if trying to whisper out a name. MY name..?..

"..Y/n." I was brought back from my trance when I felt a servo touch my shoulder. Looking down at the owner of the hand, I was quite relieved to see Rung looking back up at me with concern evident across his faceplates. "What's wrong Y/n?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," I give a small smile to reassure him. I decided not to worry him about something like this, afterall, it could just be a side effect from that faulty quantum leap.

《 Rodimus' P.O.V. 》

There had a been a breach in the hull caused by the sudden quantum leap. We had 40 crew mates drifting across space that we had to save. We NEEDED to save. No way am I gonna leave MY crew behind.....Not this time.

After giving everyone a brief idea of what had happened and what needed to be done. I was preparing to leave for the mission - gathering back the 40 lost crew members, when my optics landed on a familiar Y/f/c bot. Is that...No. It can't be. Nope. Not real. She/he isn't real...is she/he?

She/he turned her/his helm in my direction and our optics met....it was her/him...But how..I..I thought she/he had...I thought she/he had died when our team was attacked back on Ki-Aleta...

But she/he was here, right here, on my ship, right in front of me...

I wanted to call out to her/him, but before I could I noticed a slightly smaller mech with an orange frame and slim built approach her/him. Their interactions reminded me of how we used to be like this back in the day. She/he was always there to lighten up the entire team even at the darkest times, no matter how tough or impossible a mission would seem, she/he never gave up. She/he always had our backs..My back. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel something more for her/him. I thought I had lost her/him back on Ki-Aleta. She's/he's here..I need to talk to her/him..

As I look back to see her/him and the orange mech making their way back to their quarters, I push back my thoughts of her/him and attempt to focus on current mission.

===============================

{ A time skip to when the Lost Lighters found a sparkeater aboard the ship, brought to you by Rung's adorable noodle arms }

===============================

《 Reader's P.O.V. 》

As I was sitting on the edge of the bridge in the Oil reservoir I couldn't help but let my thoughts run back to that Rodimus guy and this dreadful feeling of familiarity. He did remind me of someone though... Someone I'd rather forget about. His optics, I had a feeling like I'd seen them before, but I hadn't even met this guy...right?..

Though I was getting kinda suspicious of him being someone from my past. The similarity between the names. The way he had addressed the crew, the way he spoke, even his colour scheme was similar...so similar to an old friend..one that I was close to, one that I loved, one that I trusted....all just to see him leave me behind admist the enemy and the dead bodies of our team mates.

I had hoped that he would return, he might have just gone to get help. How silly...

I was brought out of my thoughts when I heard the sound of emergency sirens going off. As I made my way out of the ship's oil reservoir, a voice on the hallway's comm informed everyone of a little inconvenience that had occured and advised everyone to find a room and lock themselves in for a short while...for safety reasons...

Just turning around the corner and witnessing the dead body of a crew member I sadly did not remember the name of, was enough to convince me that this was more than just a 'little inconvenience'. Approaching the dead body I did what any rational bot would do,

I poked it.

I flipped the dead body over and instantly wished I hadn't. This guy wasn't just plain old dead, he was completely sliced up. His brain module had been torn out, his chasis was ripped apart...But what horrified me the most was his damaged spark chamber. It was as if..as if something had clawed it's way through.

I nearly jumped when I heard the sound of the elevator door opening in the distance, followed by the sounds of rushing pedesteps. Leaning from behind the corner I saw Rung running down the hall with a blue bot, Skids as I remember, seconds later a Sparkeater running after them.

Wait..

.

.

A SPARKEATER?!

I moved out into the hallway and saw an elevator with the door ripped open. Inside there was a yellow and blue bot with a briefcase strapped to his arm looking back up at me from his place near the far back corner of the elevator, obviously terrified. Suddenly it hit me, there was a sparkeater on the loose...right now after Rung...

I turned around and tore down the hallway to where I saw them going. The Engine room, that's where I found them.

My eyes landed on the Sparkeater as it was rushing towards..towards..RUNG who was being held in place by Rodimus?!

Infuriated was an understatement. I was beyond that. HOW DARE HE?!

"NOOOO!!" I dashed towards them but before I could reach I felt someone stop me and hold me back in place as I continued to kick and move out of there grasp.

I had to do something. I wasn't gonna let anything happen to Rung. I couldn't.

Not only had he saved me, he was my closest friend. I couldn't just sit back and watch him die, I couldn't just not do anything. I couldn't LEAVE MY FRIEND.

Then I saw it, admist it all, the resemblance, the similarity. It was him..It was him all along...Hot Rod...and he was still ready to give up someone else to save himself.

I glared at Rodimus as he held Rung in place despite hearing him protest. HOW CAN HE DO THAT TO A CREW MATE?!

I kicked myself free from my captor but ended up getting hit behind the helm by someone. The last thing I saw before blacking out was Rung being shoved to the side.

===============================

When my optics onlined I came to realize that I was laying on a metal berth probably in the medical bay.

Slowly getting up I placed a servo behind my helm where I was hit.

"You're up early."

I snapped my helm towards the source of the sound, clearly not expecting anyone to be there before.

When my optics landed on the all-too-familiar flame design. "You..." I glared at him.I clenched my servos and through gritted dentae I tried to control my anger. "Where is he .?.."

"..I'm righ-"

"Not YOU. Where is RUNG!?" The scowl on my face probably showed him that I was not in the mood to joke around.

*sigh* "He's fine. He's in his

habsuite."

I nodded my helm slightly in acknowledgement.

He managed a small smile, "Your

new friend was quite stubborn.

He refused to leave and wanted

to stay in case you woke up.

Ratchet sent him to his habsuite."

My 'new friend'.?...

"Yup, he's like that. Doesn't like leaving his friends behind." I remarked, putting a subtle emphasis on 'leaving' and 'friends'.

His smile faltered as he turned his gaze away from me before he stared at me again, this time there was a sad look in his optics which almost made me soften before I remembered all he had done both to me as Hot Rod and to Rung as Rodimus and I hardened my glare further.

"I..I'm sorry Y/n. I kno-"

"What for? Letting others die? Prioritizing a stupid oracle over the lives of our friends? Abandoning us just to save yourself? Leaving me behind in Ki-Aleta between the enemy fires and the dead bodies of our fallen team mates?" Speaking those words it came back to me, all the pain, the hopelessness, the anger, the sadness..the betrayal...

"For all of them Y/n. I'm sorry.

I regret leaving you like that

but I had to do it."

I let out a dry chuckle at that,"Of course you had to."

"I was under strict orders Y/n.

Orders the rest of you didn't

know about."

"So?.. I thought we were a team. Do you realize if only you had informed us of these 'strict orders' before, we would have gone there better prepared. GIZMO AND DOWNLOAD WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!" I felt my voice waver at the mention of our long dead team mates.

"Y/n-"

"SAVE IT HOT ROD! Even when you had a chance, you chose to save yourself. When you left us..left ME behind, Rod, I was in denial. I still believed like a fool that you would come back. You'd be there. You wouldn't just abandon us like that. I kept hoping that you'll be back.....but I could only keep hoping so much. One day I realizd you weren't coming back. That was the day I realized we were all just acceptable losses to you, just collateral damage.."

I placed a servo across my optics to hide the Lubricants threatening to leave them, "..And to think I loved you..Trusted you with my life.."

"Y/n..Look, I know what I did was

wrong, but like I said, I was under

the strictest of orders.." He paused,

probably to see if I would interrupt

him or not, before speaking again, "I should've told all of you. I thought if I did then it would complicate the mission too much. But now, seeing how things turned out for all of us, it would have been better if I had."

"Rod..sto-"

"I went back."

I removed the servo covering my optics and looked at him. Instead of anger, there was slight shock mixed with sadness in them as I processed what he just said.."Huh..?.."

"I went back for you. All of you. I couldn't find anyone except Dealer. I thought you had died Y/n and it was my fault. I spent so many sleepless nights wondering all the different ways I could have saved you, all the different 'what ifs'. I was frustrated and angry at myself for letting you suffer that fate."

He reached his servo out for mine, holding it gently, softly as if I would break.

"I know..It's not much use saying sorry now. Nothing I say can ever excuse my actions, but please Y/n. Give me a chance. A chance to make up for all of it. I finally found you after so many eons, after I thought I lost you forever. Even though I know you hate me, just give me one chance to rebuild our trust and all that we had. Just one more chance to make things right. Hmm?"

"Rod.." I looked up at him. I saw the sincerity in his optics. No matter how much I tried, even after all that happened, I still couldn't hate him, my anger was slowly fading, giving way to sadness. The sight of our servos clasped together, drowned me in nostalgia.

"..I could never hate you..*sigh* It may take a while for us to go back to the way we used to be. Rod..I may be able to forgive with time but..but it's gonna be hard to forget.." He gave my servo a small reassuring squeeze. "But I'm willing to take a chance and start over."

I looked at him and saw relief mixed with happiness in his optics.

"I'll never abandon you..never again."

A small but genuine smile spread across my faceplates as I felt my spark warm up. The feelings for him, I had once buried within me started to resurface, slow yet steady.

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Aightttttt peeps so that was it with this one-shot. I hope you had fun reading this (I know it was kinda long and maybbbbe sort of all over the place, sooooo thank youuuuu for bearing all that.)

I'm open to all advices and suggestions, so please feel free to speak your mind on how I can improve.

Have a good day everyone~

[grayseekerswritinglife]

Tricks & Treats 4/5

Chapter Four: Electromagnet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Belly hurts,” Skywarp complained.

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

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

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

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

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

Thundercracker grunted in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

“Yeah, but what if it’s poison?”

“It’s not!”

“How do you know?”

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

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

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

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

“C’mon,” he said.

They dodged past Sludge and rushed for the doors.

~~~~~~~

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

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

[the-odd-job]

Up in Flames chapter 14 - Tear Into You (Ashes Part 2)

Warnings: Major Character Death, Chose Not to Use Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Relationships: Megatron/Sunstreaker, Megatron/Sideswipe, Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Characters: Sunstreaker, Megatron Additional Tags: Dubcon, Mechpreg, Sticky Words: 5342

Am I beautiful As I tear you to pieces? Am I beautiful? Even at my ugliest, you always say I'm beautiful As you tear me to pieces You are beautiful Even at your ugliest, I always say You're beautiful and sick like me

— In This Moment – Sick Like Me

( Previous )

It turned into a public event, as little of a surprise as that was. They were gladiators. Fighting for show was what they did, even if the glory days of the Pits were long gone, brought down by Megatron himself.

But gone or not, their world was still familiar to most of the Decepticon army. There were many among their ranks that could appreciate a good showdown between skilled fighters—and Sunstreaker quite enjoyed providing shows of that nature. Didn’t he deserve to be the center of attention, both for what he was and what he could do?

And Megatron as his opponent only did him justice. Could he win? Probably not. Megatron had beaten him every time they had ever fought, rightfully proving himself superior no matter the circumstances.

Would he still give it his best go? Pit yeah. Anything less would’ve been nothing but an embarrassment. As much as winning was the goal, so was entertaining, and testing yourself, pushing yourself to your limit in front of so many appreciative optics.

And this side of the war definitely could appreciate real fights like the Autobots never did. The Autobots were more concerned with not going overt with the damage inflicted during sparring, and real fights were supposed to be off the table entirely, as little as Sunstreaker had ever followed that rule. 

The Decepticons didn’t have such concerns. They were a violent bunch and seemed to only consider the injuries racked up as inevitable, without seeing any reason to change their actions because someone or other got hurt and required repairs. Part of life, no? Nothing more, nothing less. No reason to make a number out of it. With continued access to Cybertron, they didn't even need to worry about resources—aside from the ever elusive energon—as the Autobots did.

That suited Sunstreaker just fine, as did the fact no one thought twice about him suffering injuries the same as everyone else, despite the fact he was carrying. The only reason anyone spent time having second thoughts before fighting him was his sheer proven prowess. He could scrap most of the mecha on either side of the war. Did you really want to mess with him?

Megatron didn’t need to worry about things like that, though. Sunstreaker could provide him with a good fight, and he would do so, but Megatron’s strength and ability exceeded even his own. Everyone knew that.

Didn’t stop Sunstreaker from immediately agreeing to the suggestion of another no holds barred fight, and that saw them here, in the training room with the majority of the Decepticon army on Earth standing aside, optics sharp on them. Megatron’s sword was extended and Sunstreaker held his own thermal sword, ready to carve his fragging name in the warlord’s armor. As much as they were both weapons just by existing… Well, additional aids were damage multipliers, weren’t they? They evened the odds a little, allowed for greater damage on both sides. That came in quite handy. 

Especially now. Megatron was, in frame, more of a weapon than he was. Once upon a time Sunstreaker would have considered them equal as far as their armaments went, but since then, he’d lost his claws, his fangs, his edges—things Megatron still retained because who would dare try to take those from him.

Didn’t matter. Sunstreaker still knew how to hit and how to tear, blunt digits or not, and he damn well knew how to handle a sword. Maybe he was at a disadvantage, maybe he was the underdog—then let it be so. It wouldn’t stop him from giving as good as he got.

“Haven’t we done this enough times already?” Sunstreaker asked as Megatron nodded at him, inviting him to make the first move. He did, rushing the warlord, dodging the blade that moved to intercept him, although he couldn’t break through Megatron’s defense enough to actually land a hit. Neither did he receive a hit either, though, dancing out of the way of Megatron’s attack on light pedes.

“Do you complain?” Megatron asked in return, moving on him, but Sunstreaker moved with him, staying just half a step ahead. Enough to save him until he could try to take an opening.

It didn’t work. Megatron blocked him, and wasn’t it satisfying to feel like his skill was truly matched, like he’d be made to work for every attack he could possibly land.

Sunstreaker’s mouth tugged into a smirk. “No. Why would I ever say no to a chance of slagging you? Fragging well deserve it, at least.”

“Do I now?” the tyrant rumbled in amusement, sending Sunstreaker stumbling back with a strike of his sword, cutting too deep into his plating. Megatron moved to a follow up attack in one fluent motion, but Sunstreaker wasn’t there anymore when it was supposed to reach him, moving out of the way like quicksilver. 

“Damn well. Or did you forget everything you’ve done?” Sunstreaker’s sword connected with Megatron’s side, too shallow, a second before he had to dodge again. There was no way it would’ve been that easy, anyway. 

He’d be disappointed if it was. Megatron was supposed to be better than that, and he was. 

“How large of a scale are we talking about, here?” Megatron humored him. Sunstreaker could surmise what he meant. There was many a mech who would take an issue with the whole war Megatron had thrust Cybertron into—the atrocities he’d committed in the name of his cause. Genocide.  

Did Sunstreaker think he deserved an ass kicking for all that? He should have. He had been an Autobot, a faction whose entire purpose was to oppose Megatron and everything he did and wanted to do. It was that insignia that still painted his chest, scratched out now. Why was he ever one of the red faction if he didn’t think Megatron deserved to pay for his supposed crimes?

They knew already.

What, then? Did he think Megatron had been right all along, justified in what he did? All the death he’d caused, the innocent he’d killed? What did he think of that?

“Scale of my goddamn life,” Sunstreaker growled, jumping out of the way of Megatron’s slash that would have beyond hurt had it connected, and taking his chances with an attack of his own. It landed. Muted satisfaction burst in his spark. The sparklet in his chamber vibrated, its excitement joining his own.

This was right. Fighting, testing his mettle, against its sire too, proving to it and to himself once again that Megatron was powerful enough to be considered beyond desirable for the role. 

“Hm. And everything else I’ve done?” the tyrant asked from him. Why? Was he genuinely curious?

Or was he testing him? Megatron wanted him to fight. Not just like this—blades clashing against each other before one broke through, sharp cuts from Megatron’s, searing slashes from Sunstreaker's—but in the war. For him. Was this an attempt at gauging his current stance on the whole matter? 

“You didn’t do any of that to me,” came Sunstreaker’s answer. He dove past Megatron’s defense again, and this time his sword sank deep into Megatron’s side, as much as the warlord knew how to angle himself to reduce the severity of the damage. Getting out of the way of the retaliation was as important as delivering hurt, but he only managed that with a hair’s breadth away from the harm Megatron wanted to inflict on him.

Good enough, all the same. 

“Selfish,” Megatron commented, but it didn’t sound like an accusation as it would’ve been coming from any Autobot. More just an… Observation.

“You know it,” Sunstreaker grinned, unrepentant. As if it wasn’t common knowledge Sunstreaker didn’t really give a crap about anyone but himself. More reasons for the Autobots to dislike him. They put so much weight on altruism, Optimus in particular. Oh, all the talks he had gotten for putting himself first, at the cost of others. 

Hadn’t really worked, any of those chastisements. He was yet to see the error of his ways.

“And what of all the good I’ve brought upon your life?” Megatron went on to ask. Sunstreaker frowned a second before he was too slow and received a strike that sliced clean through his armor. He ignored the ache of the cut in favor of dodging to the side, away from Megatron’s follow up attack. But, if he’d hoped to take the chance to deliver an attack of his own, Megatron was quick to squash those dreams. 

“What fucking good?” Sunstreaker growled after he’d gathered his bearings and they were back to their scheduled dancing, injuries, wounds on both of them slowly piling up. “You destroyed it.”

“As was necessary. I freed you from the Autobots,” came Megatron’s argument, delivered in time with a feign Sunstreaker didn’t recognize as such, followed by a fast attack that landed and had him reeling and scrambling out of the way for a precious second that ended with a cut on Megatron when the tyrant was a little too slow to turn to face him. 

Sunstreaker couldn’t really disagree with Megatron on this one, though. He growled again instead, veering to the side quickly enough to deliver another attack that landed almost as it was intended to before Megatron could force him away.

“Ends justify the means, huh?” Sunstreaker asked after he’d dodged again, diving right back in the next moment to deliver a vicious strike upon the larger mech. “Waltz right in, announce my crimes to the whole damn world, but that’s fine because it would roast me out of the Autobots?” Fragger.

“Do you disagree it was for the best?” Megatron asked from him, then moved far faster than he had any right to. Sunstreaker couldn’t get out of the way quickly enough and Megatron’s blade sank into his armor, leaving yet another gaping tear behind.

But not deep enough to bleed. Yet.  

“What does it matter? A little too late to go back, now,” Sunstreaker hissed back. Whatever he thought of it wouldn’t change things anymore. There was no fixing what Megatron had done.

“But not too late to move forward,” the tyrant said—and why the slag did Sunstreaker feel like they were again circling back to the matter of would he or would he not fight? He couldn’t go back to being an Autobot, not after everything… Not that he really wanted to, either.

Did he want to be Neutral, then? Denounce his planet and his species for the sake of being outside the fight, picking no side?

Or would he rather continue fighting?  

“You’re not really winning me over,” he growled at Megatron all the same, performing one attack, another… But the third was blocked and countered. Sunstreaker was forced to backpedal fast as he could manage, his engine revving in aggravation.

“You’re as stubborn as they come,” Megatron snarled back at him. Sunstreaker chuckled, twice so when he managed to turn the tables for a moment and jam his sword into a gap in Megatron’s armor.

“You’re only now noticing that?” he purred at the warlord even as he was forced to take a step back again, then another, and another before he could slip to Megatron’s side. But no, even that didn’t work. This time there was blood when Megatron swept his sword into him, deep enough to nick fuel lines. Sunstreaker could feel the wetness running down his internals, but he made damn sure Megatron’s plating melted under his own sword before he dodged out of the way. Wouldn’t do to give Megatron a chance to do something even worse, but there was no fragging way Sunstreaker was going to get the bastard get away with slag, either.

Now all he needed to do was return to the favor for real and have Megatron’s blood drip along his frame as Sunstreaker’s was.

“Hardly. Headstrong—it’s one of your more attractive qualities.”

This time Sunstreaker laughed outright, although he didn’t let it distract him from the fight, weaving his frame out of the way of Megatron’s attacks. The sparkling was pulsing urgently, growing even more excited at the feeling of his amusement.

And it was amusement. Pleasure, too, though no surprise. Maybe there should’ve been some, with the trouble his stubbornness had caused Megatron. Lack of cooperation and whatnot.

But Sunstreaker was a creature of confidence that some said he took to a sick level. True to that form, “Do I even have any unattractive qualities?” Sunstreaker asked.

“I think you answered that question yourself,” Megatron responded, his field flaring with faint mirth of his own. Sunstreaker growled at the suggestion behind the words—that his self-regard went over the top and that wasn’t a positive quality. 

Well, frag that. The insecure wastes of space just couldn’t understand the comfort of loving yourself.

Sunstreaker dismissed Megatron’s opinion entirely with, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And nearly got his arm cut off for not reading Megatron’s movement fast enough. That, though, wasn’t enough to distract either of them from their conversation.  

“I won’t claim it’s not refreshing, as well,” Megatron conceded in time with Sunstreaker moving in, dodging past the tyrant’s attempted block and– Ah, now there was blood from Megatron too. His blade cut deep and true before Megatron could jerk out of the way. Sunstreaker didn’t let him go so easily, even if he paid for his second attack with a deep groove on his own armor.

But the pain was rewarding. He’d earned it.

And now that they were both bloodied, it felt like the fight was really starting. No Pit fight should be dry; it just wasn’t entertaining without spilled energon tainting the ground. Sunstreaker vowed that Megatron’s blood would pool on the floor before they were done—and acknowledged that his own would likely join it in no small amount. If it didn’t, what were they even doing this for?

So he pressed his attack, no matter how Megatron gave no quarter—no matter how he had to work to evade the injuries that would’ve otherwise piled on him in truly painful amounts. But frag, what else was he supposed to do? He didn’t want to do anything else. All he wanted was to dance on that blade’s edge, feel it every time he was too slow and it scraped along his body.

But also every time Megatron wasn’t fast enough and it was Sunstreaker’s sword that dug into him. Blood, they both wanted that—and they both got it.  

“So what you’re really saying–” Sunstreaker continued, bringing his sword to block Megatron’s when it came down at him, and taking just that moment to meet the warlord’s optics. Sunstreaker smirked. “–Is that I have no unattractive qualities.” Even the one Megatron named he only rescinded by calling it refreshing in the next moment. 

What surprise was it, though? He was beautiful, physically—but he also embodied so many of the things their city had admired, in his behavior and personality. The Autobots had never appreciated his spirit. He was unyielding, ruthless, comfortable with himself, oft violent, temperamental. He wasn’t a pushover. He knew his worth and demanded others acknowledge it too.

He wasn’t a meek little thing like the Autobots would’ve wanted him to be. He wasn’t humble, he wasn’t good.

He was everything an Autobot shouldn’t be, but everything a Kaonite should be—and could it be that he was what a Decepticon should be, too?

Maybe.

“You love to flatter yourself, don’t you?” Megatron rumbled. Slice, cut. Sunstreaker could feel the pain, relished in it.

Ignored it. Delivered it. Megatron ignored it too, showing no signs of feeling his injuries any more than Sunstreaker was. They both possessed well trained pain tolerances, and when nothing vital had been severed yet… Well, there was no reason to act on the pain they were both feeling, and that was multiplying with every moment, with every time one of them couldn’t block or dodge and paid for it.

Blood was beginning to flow faster, attacks on old wounds cutting deeper than the first pass had. Hurting more, too, as their frames informed them of the mounting damage.

Fragging right. Bring it on, give more, back down none.

Sunstreaker’s fans were running faster as the exertion began to build its effects, excitement and emotion only adding to the mess. He could hear the murmur of the Decepticons watching them, but ignored it with age old professionalism. Distractions weren’t acceptable.

Especially not now, with Megatron as intent on bringing him down as Sunstreaker was on not allowing that.

“Is it flattery if it’s just speaking the truth?” he asked, twisting his frame out of the way and into Megatron, bringing his sword to where it would fragging well hurt. And he was hurt in return, and so it went.

Had he still had his claws, he would’ve used those on the tyrant too. He could picture all the ways he could’ve employed them in tandem with his sword, dig them in preexisting wounds, tear every time he was within reach, accentuate the use of his blade and add to the damage he could deliver.

Because Megatron was definitely putting his claws to use, and every time they scratched into him, Sunstreaker envied him for still having them. They drew more blood from him, tore at his armor, bent it, built atop the wounds already littering him.

More and more blood, but it wasn’t just his. His sword damaged near as many lines on Megatron as what were being cut in his own frame. Pink was dribbling from the seams of their armors, all the way to the floor it began to slick.

Better not lose your footing.

“Do you truly think yourself flawless?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Megatron growled at him, and it was just insanity when the warlord stepped forward, right where Sunstreaker could drive his blade through his abdomen–

Only to misread Megatron’s intent and have the back of his helm grabbed. “You’re lucky you have your looks. Your attitude would be very tiresome otherwise,” Megatron growled lowly at him. Sunstreaker wasn’t sure if anyone else could even hear him—or if anyone else was meant to hear him.

But where Megatron could have caught him tight enough to crush… He didn’t. In fact, Sunstreaker was able to pull himself free and retreat a couple of steps away. “I don’t think you mind my attitude as much as you say you do,” he grinned before he dove right back in. Their swords clashed, then they didn’t, then they cut—more blood joined the mess on the floor, more armor was mutilated. Char from the heat of Sunstreaker’s sword tainted the edges of Megatron’s injuries; the edges of Sunstreaker’s wounds were ragged where Megatron’s had torn deeper into them.

Deep, shallow, it all hurt, all piled on top of each other and itself until important parts were reached after all this time, when even their thick plating wasn’t enough to protect them anymore. The engine in Sunstreaker’s left arm suffered under Megatron’s sword—Sunstreaker switched his sword to his right hand. Megatron’s engine was rattling where Sunstreaker had managed to sink his sword into it. Something in his leg was severed, giving the tyrant a limp.

Yet that wasn’t enough to noticeably slow either of them down—not enough to end their fight so soon.

But it was entering its twilight phase all the same. They could only carry on for so long at the pace they were building injuries on each other. Their ventilations turned more ragged, both from the heat that built in their systems, as well as the damage their vents suffered along with the rest of their frames. The floor was painted in pink; it was harder to not slip on the steps they took, back and forth. Harder yet for Sunstreaker as the one who had to move more, when he couldn’t possibly accept the same amount of damage Megatron could put up with if it meant hurting Sunstreaker worse. 

And oh, he was hurting. His injuries throbbed at him in time with the rapid pulse of his spark—his excitement, the sparkling’s excitement, his thrill, the sparkling’s thrill merging together until there was more emotion than Sunstreaker could have ever managed on his own. His frame was on the verge of lagging dangerously, too, as much as he could force it into full cooperation for now.  

Megatron was only doing better to an extent, but it was still becoming obvious he was gaining the upper hand, his size and durability simply surpassing Sunstreaker’s—and Sunstreaker couldn’t make up for it by causing more damage than what was being caused on him. Quite the opposite.

Didn’t matter. What mattered was that Megatron had a limp, there was terrible grinding coming from his right arm with every motion he forced it into, and he was bleeding more than just a little. Sunstreaker had done that to him. His armor was split in so many places. He could almost feel Megatron’s injuries as phantom sensations on top of his own.

Never let it be said he had gone down easily. Never let it be said he hadn’t hurt Megatron.

But go down he did. Megatron drove his sword through his abdomen first when Sunstreaker made just one mistake, too slow to get out of the way. Blood gushed forth when energon lines were cut well and proper, but that alone wouldn’t have been enough to down him. No, Sunstreaker merely backed away from his impalement, fast as he could, but before he was free… Megatron yanked his sword sideways.

Sunstreaker gasped when it tore through far too much machinery, his armor barely enough to stop Megatron’s strength before he would have halfway cut him in two.  

Even that wasn’t serious enough to bring him down on its own, but it forced him to reorient himself from the damage warnings that, along with the simple pain, clued him in on quite a few parts that stopped working entirely, and others yet that were verging on that point.

He took too long with that, was distracted for too many precious seconds. He jerked away when Megatron kicked at him, but that only put him in the path of the blunt impact of the hilt of Megatron’s sword to his face.  

Was he steady on his pedes, he may have been able to overcome even that much.

He wasn’t.

His footing didn’t keep on the blood slicked floor and Sunstreaker came crashing down, landing hard with a grunt as nearly every damn part of his frame complained about the impact. Still, he would have tried to get to his pedes if Megatron hadn’t knelt on his fragging abdomen. Sunstreaker’s vocalizer glitched to static at the agony, thoroughly distracting him from the sword that pressed to his throat.

Decapitation. Not deadly, but more than incapacitating. Sunstreaker’s vents heaved as he tried to push the pain aside enough to focus on his predicament.

His optics eventually found Megatron’s, finding the tyrant staring down at him, his expression unreadable.

Everyone knew he had won, though. Sunstreaker only confirmed that with, “I yield,” spoken loud enough for the observers.

At once the gathered Decepticons broke into cheers and jeers, whooping for the high of a good fight, laughing both for the victory of their leader and for Sunstreaker’s loss. The sparkling shook along with the thrum of the cacophony of noise, dancing to the rapid rotation of Sunstreaker’s spark, asking for more still.

Was nothing enough? 

Megatron’s sword disappeared back into his arm and his knee rose from Sunstreaker’s abdomen. Sunstreaker sucked in a sharp ventilation as the damaged parts were again realigned by the lack of pressure. Distracted by it, he jerked when Megatron’s servo came to his chin, taking a hold of it. Sunstreaker met his optics again as the tyrant traced his thumb along his lower lip. “Blood looks good on you,” Megatron commented.

Sunstreaker huffed a laugh. “Ditto.” It was what Megatron deserved, and no doubt the warlord thought the same of him. You know, for his attitude.  

But here he was, with Megatron above him, straddling his frame now. Sunstreaker’s optics brightened and Megatron’s optical ridges rose inquisitively in response, right before Sunstreaker forced his aching frame into motion and arched up against the larger frame. Megatron didn’t need any time to understand, his optics coming to glow a little brighter too. His engine rumbled even as Sunstreaker had to fight his ventilations that wanted to again come fast and hard and ragged. Something to do with the pain in his frame, that he dedicated himself to ignoring in favor of locking into a staring contest with the tyrant.

Whose servo slipped between their frames, brushing against his valve cover. “In front of everyone?” Megatron growled at him.

Sunstreaker growled back. “You object?”

“Hardly.” He wasn’t given a chance to retract a damn thing this time. Megatron claws hooked into the seams of his valve panel as they had who knew how many times already, and like who knew how many times before, the cover was torn clean off.

The sting of that was completely eclipsed by everything else his frame was going through. He didn’t give a frag about it, he only cared about the digits that pushed into his valve without the obstruction in the way. It was as slick as the floor, lubricant making the entrance of Megatron’s claws a smooth glide. The headiness of the preceding fight wasn’t lost to either of them, and Sunstreaker’s ventilations were quick to speed up for reasons that had nothing to do with the aches of his frame. 

The Decepticons had quickly caught on to the shift, and their cheers had rather changed in nature. Catcalls filled the air as well as dirty encouragements and lewd laughter. Clearly, they weren’t the prudish lot in the slightest. 

Sunstreaker didn’t mind being the center of attention in this, either. Fighting, fucking, was there so much difference? Both were raw sports that laid you bare for others to see. Blood, internals—lubricant and transfluid, retracted covers. They weren’t so far removed.

Megatron was all on board with this, by all appearances. His digits thrust in and out until Sunstreaker was well and truly ready—as if he hadn’t been so all the while—only for the tyrant to release his spike and replace his digits with it.

Sunstreaker hiked his hips up for better angle as Megatron pushed into him, despite the pain of his midsection. He wasn’t about to let that stop him, no matter how the way Megatron fetched his spike only to slam back in made his vents hitch and vocalizer produce some more static.

Primus, it hurt. His abdomen loudly told him all about how it hated him right then, even as his valve sang its praises as Megatron set up a pace that was no less punishing than usual, only this time made all the more so by the multitude of injuries they both sported.

Megatron had to feel it too. There was no way he was unaffected by forcing his frame into motion like this, this fast, this violent, right after the bloodshed they’d just inflicted on each other.

But he didn’t let that slow him, and pits, Sunstreaker fragging well didn’t ask him to slow down, to go easy on him just because he was hurting.

No, Sunstreaker arched into him. Sunstreaker wove his arms behind the warlord’s neck and pulled him down as his damage warnings piled in even greater numbers on his HUD. As his frame informed him of how much more it was breaking under Megatron’s administrations, Sunstreaker pressed their lips together, moaning—no fake—when Megatron overtook him, his glossa slipping into his mouth, lips pressing tighter, and his hips pistoning harder, if that was even possible. It was stretch and fullness like always, the abuse of what felt like every last sensor in his valve.

Sunstreaker shuddered from pleasure and agony both until he couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. The sensations melded together until one only added to the other, and he fragging hurt, but he felt spectacular, his valve clenching as his frame was brutally driven towards completion. 

He could taste Megatron’s own pain in his field. It was gratification, proof that he had fought well and true, but also, even more proof that Megatron wasn’t weak in any sense of the word. It didn’t matter he was aching, he was still willing and able to take his prize.

Neither of them was weak. The sparkling wouldn’t be weak either, not with creators like them.

And if it was despite that… Well, would they have any need for it? This wasn’t a world for the feeble. He wouldn’t accept that.

But it was unlikely to come to pass. It wasn’t weak in spark, not now, not ever, pushing at him, riding every exhilarating emotion, demanding that he feed it more of it. It was lively, it was gaining more mass with every passing day—it was thriving, healthy. Why would it change that course all of a sudden?

It wouldn’t, he was certain of that as it spun faster in its own rotation in time with the pleasure growing in his frame. He rocked into Megatron’s thrusts no matter the pain, bit down on the tyrant’s lip to another growl from him. A sharp jab of Megatron’s hips had Sunstreaker’s vents seizing when it jarred his injuries.

He wouldn’t have it any other way. His servo grasped the back of Megatron’s helm, locking him in place as the pleasure crested and he groaned against the warlord’s lips. Charge released from his frame and he tensed, further hurting himself, more warnings popping up on his HUD.

Fucking worth it. This was the way to feel, this was the way to live, and he was fragging done having anyone tell him otherwise. 

By the continued racket around them, he was no further from his kin here than he had been in Kaon, in the Pits. The noise only increased when Megatron growled his own overload, jerking his hips into Sunstreaker to another pained hiss from him—whooping for their completion, for the sight of charge crackling across both their frames. It was a show from start to finish, all of it.

Never let them forget where Sunstreaker had come from—the very same place as so many of them.

He loosened his hold on Megatron and with another graze of sharp denta across his lips the tyrant pulled away from him until there was enough distance for their gazes to meet, amusement in Megatron’s optics… As well as something else. Sunstreaker couldn’t quite name it. Approval?

Ugh. Frag him and opinions. “Done already?” Sunstreaker growled at him, jabbing his digits into a deep gash on Megatron’s side and relishing in the jerk of the tyrant’s frame. Did that hurt?

Megatron responded by rather meaningfully tracing his damaged midsection, and just the threat of what he could do to injure him further had Sunstreaker snarling some more. “Mercy is so overrated, isn’t it?” the tyrant asked from him in return–

Before driving his claws into the gaping wound of his abdomen, in time with a harsh thrust into his valve. The dual pain on that one area of his frame had Sunstreaker’s helm snapping back against the floor, but he didn’t scream, only ground his denta together and groaned.

“Frag you,” he panted once he could will his optics open again, glaring at the tyrant now sporting an entirely benevolent smile. Megatron drew back… Thrust back in, and his claws remained in his abdomen. It was pain, plain and simple—but also satisfaction, the knowledge of what Megatron was ready and willing to do clouding Sunstreaker’s good sense. 

“Backing down already?” Megatron wondered with an innocent tilt of his helm, as if he wasn’t aggravating already severe injuries.

Sunstreaker yanked on Megatron’s wounds a little harder this time, bending his plating until the tyrant was growling a warning at him.

The twin grinned. “Keep fucking dreaming.”

( Next )

[libermachinae]

Fault Lines Under the Living Room

Part III: Watch - Chapter 9: Smog Layer Rolling In

Available on AO3 Chapter Summary: The trio compare notes. Chapter Word Count: 3578

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Beyond the city, Vitrious was a patchwork of barren plateaus with deep crags of lush valleys between, dense vegetation knotting together until only those adapted for such environments would have any hope of navigating them. Drift set his shuttle down on the flat plain, well within sight of the parked Decepticon craft, and took a moment to vent before he rose from the pilot’s seat and made for the hatch. He checked the cell was secure, catching Grit’s optic as he passed; there was a glare, but no sharp remarks as Drift turned his back on them.

The soil was a hard-packed conglomeration of quartz, granite, and limestone that sparkled even under Vitrious’s perpetually overcast weather, but Drift’s gaze was up as he approached the too-familiar vessel. The hatch was open and Rodimus was sitting on the ramp, Ratchet standing at his left shoulder. They waved but put up their hands, stop, when he started coming closer.

“Sorry,” Rodimus said over comms.

“We don’t know how far the effects extend,” Ratchet explained.

Drift stopped where he was, stance wide and swords glinting.

“Do you really have the Enigma?” he asked.

“It’s not the kind of thing we could make up,” Ratchet said.

“Where did you find it?”

“Another Autobot left it on the Lost Light,” Rodimus said. “Arcee. Don’t know where she got it from, but she hid it on this shuttle and took off. We tried to follow her, but some things—I got us hit with a satellite.”

“A satellite,” Drift repeated.

Rodimus nodded.

Drift raised his two fists and bounced them together.

“Hit you.”

“We’re not going to get very far if that’s where your suspension of disbelief ends,” Ratchet said. “And anyway, we both played a part getting into that mess. I wasn’t the most communicative pilot.”

Rodimus shifted, looking down at his pedes, then grinned. Without making optic contact, Ratchet matched it.

“A lot of things were said, but that’s beside the point.” Rodimus waved his hand. “We lost control of the shuttle and by the time we got it back, Arcee was gone.”

“Why would she do that?” Drift asked. An object that dangerous needed to stay far away from Cybertronian hands, especially anyone aligned with the civil war factions. To abandon it like that was either negligence or malicious, and he found himself glancing at the sky, wondering whether someone else was on their way to retrieve it.

“Didn’t tell us,” Ratchet said. “Didn’t even tell us it was here. Had to find it ourselves.”

“Both of you?”

Ratchet and Rodimus glanced at each other.

“Who else?” Drift pressed.

“What?” Rodimus asked, both their gazes snapping back to him.

“Who else was with you? You can’t form a combiner with just two people.”

“That’s where it gets complicated,” Ratchet said. Unlike Rodimus, who had taken to glancing at the ground again, spoiler twitching to give the illusion his whole frame was in motion, Ratchet’s optics and posture were steady.

“It was just us,” Rodimus said. “I didn’t know what to do. Ratchet had just said he was—“ He froze, looked up at Ratchet, then went on. “He was leaving, and the glowy thing in the wall seemed like a good distraction from that.”

“We were both under immense stress,” Ratchet said, laying a hand on Rodimus’ spoiler. The twitching stopped. “Maybe the Enigma picked up on that. It decided we were a good enough match that it could link us together while it looked for someone else.”

“A holding pattern,” Drift said. The word came up automatically; in reality, his attention was being yanked between Rodimus’ slight smile, Ratchet’s hand, and the fact that the latter had apparently been in the process of deserting. That didn’t sound like the Ratchet he knew.

“Yeah, exactly, that’s what Cyclonus called it,” Rodimus said, oblivious to his internal struggle.

“You’ve heard of it?” Ratchet asked.

“Only briefly, and my sources weren’t that trustworthy.”

“Tell us what they said anyway,” Ratchet said, his hand moving into soothing strokes along Rodimus’ spoiler. Drift found himself looking at the ground. “We still know next to nothing about this thing, beyond that it’s a pain in the aft and poor judge of character.”

Drift shook out his hand and unsheathed his sword, twirling it in front of him in basic patterns. Better to be frank with his restlessness than let it distract him from the matter at hand.

“It’s rare, and terrible,” he said. “Bonded sparks without a physical connection to stabilize them try to overpower each other.” He thrust his sword forward, grimacing at the blunt movement. “The case studies all described once-friends trying to rip each other apart, just for a few minutes’ peace.” There must have been instances of final components being introduced, but he hadn’t bothered to log them to his memory. He’d been looking for horror stories to break up the boredom. Shockwave’s archives had been an indulgence.

“Hasn’t been easy,” Ratchet said, “but it was never that bad.” Even from this far away, his gaze was like a physical touch on Drift’s plating. He tried to ignore it as he moved into his next step in the pattern.

“We did organize an entire shuttle to keep me from frying Ratchet’s circuits,” Rodimus said. “Oh, and meditated!” His spoiler flicked, briefly dislodging Ratchet’s hand before he put it back. Their disturbed looks switched to matching grins again, and Drift now recognized it for what it was: a private joke.

Drift paused to regard them, their easy postures combined with the gentle way they moved around each other. Nothing like what he had filled his head with all those years ago.

“Why did you come?” he asked, sheathing his sword. “You said you need my help.”

Rodimus stood up, creating a gap between them.

“Like Ratchet said, it hasn’t been as bad as what you heard,” he said, “but we can’t live like this forever. Ratchet’s—”

He stopped, optics flashing, and Ratchet closed the distance again, pressing a hand to the back of his neck.

“It’s been a challenge,” Ratchet said. “We can function, but neither of us can fulfill our responsibilities while we’re like this, especially if we’re at risk of pulling someone into it. We need some way to minimize the effects or, ideally, cut it off. Unfortunately, that falls outside my area of expertise.” He dropped his hand.

“But we were thinking: weird spark stuff, bonds between people. That’s kind of what you’re all about, right?” Rodimus stood, the corner of his lips quirked up in a hopeful grin.

Drift stared at it. His hand was frozen, still wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

“Cyclonus suggested Spectralist meditation practices might influences the effects of the Enigma,” Ratchet said with a resigned acceptance that, in another situation, Drift might have prodded at. Ratchet was handing him a free turn in their old game, only it wasn’t a game anymore and Drift found himself with a miserable hand.

“And you want me to…”

They looked at each other, more than a glance this time.

“Well, was he right?” Rodimus asked. “Is there anything you can do?”

Unlike most answers in Drift’s life, this one came with little inner turmoil.

“No. There isn’t.”

Spectralism was a war religion. A subset of Alchemists had felt their belief system had become too tied up in the politics of the war, especially after the Acuity had announced a passive alliance with the Autobots. The Alchemic apostates believed that, by focusing on the body, one could transcend the factional gulfs that divided their species, and named their new movement Spectralism, in reference to the standard spectrum of light emitted by their photonic cores. It was a modern religion designed around the issues of its time. Not ancient long-lost artifacts of questionable ethics.

Rodimus’ spoiler drooped and Ratchet’s optics dimmed. Rodimus straightened up a moment later, brave smile on, but the way Ratchet sunk into his own plating told Drift far more about their shared headspace.

“That’s okay!” Rodimus said. “We can figure something else out. Or not! Ratchet’s been warming up to me. Bet we could make it a few years at least before we—”

His words choked off and Drift had to look away, anger roiling beneath his plating. He hated that he couldn’t just feel sympathy for their situation; wrapped up in it was the knowledge that they had come, not for him, but for something he might provide. He had always been a tool for other mechanisms, from his days on the streets up through his rise in the Decepticons, and hoping for any different after he defected, after the war ended, after he joined Rodimus’ side kept demanding a steeper price.

He was still trying to figure out what he could say that Deadlock would not have when the plasma bolt caught him.

It hit his right shoulder from behind and sent him sprawling. He landed on the hard ground and gasped as pain, numbness, and the tingle of backup sensors raced up his armor in rapid succession. Calibration had not finished before he was trying to get up again.

“Drift!” Ratchet and Rodimus yelled.

He grunted and tried to see who shot him but had to roll away to dodge a second bullet aimed for his helm. He heard a second, quiet shuttle landing beside his own and realized his mistake.

The third shot went wide, expecting him to keep rolling in the same direction, and he took advantage of the lost second to leap to his feet and lunge at Grit’s crewmate, frozen at the edge of the hatch. His left sword came up to block another volley and then he was on the Decepticon, spinning and shoving him to the floor of the hatch with his gun arm pinned behind his back. There was nothing he could do to stop the remote-piloted shuttle, though, already taking off while the other two scrambled aboard. He shoved the Decepticon into the ground, then jumped over him. Someone was shouting, but he didn’t hear the words. If he could catch the underside of the ship—

He missed. The thrusters fired just as he leapt and sent him hurtling, skidding across the plateau. He tumbled end over end, plating banging against the solid ground, until at last he came to a stop on his back, staring at the open sky.

He struggled to sit up. The pain wasn’t bad, but vertigo had him misjudging the weight of his frame. He heard the shuttle flying away before he could see it, followed by gunshots. He started to roll over, a delayed evasive maneuver, before he realized that the blasterfire was coming from the ground. Rodimus and Ratchet had retrieved weapons and were shooting at the retreating shuttle while their own sat idle.

“Go!” Drift shouted. He hoped that was what he’d said. “Don’t let them break atmosphere.” He swayed onto his feet, looking around for the sword that had flown from his grasp.

A pulse flew by his helm, singing the air itself, and he turned around to see the Decepticon crumple to the ground, gun falling out of his hand.

“Not leaving you behind,” Rodimus said.

“Not like we’ve had great luck chasing people off world anyway,” Ratchet added.

Above their heads, the shuttle’s thrusters pulsed as it prepared for the final push to break atmosphere. Already it was receding from view, the planet’s smog layer rolling in to cover its retreat, and Drift knew it would be off his own ship’s sensor range long before he got it airborne. He tried to gauge how far a ship like that could travel before it needed to stop for fuel.

“You okay, Drift?” Rodimus asked.

Drift shut off his comms.

He picked up his sword on his way back to the shuttle. The Decepticon was lying on the ground, clutching his hip; warm energon seeped from between his fingers. Drift doubted he would die from the wound, but the bleeding was enough to make anyone panic, which was exactly what he needed right now. He pointed his blunted weapon at the Decepticon’s throat, allowing the curve of the blade to cut a hair-thin line in the plating housing his central energon line.

“What’s your name?” he asked. “How important are you to Grit?” Voice trembling slightly; good. Most Cybertronians knew the difference between shivers of fear and barely-concealed anger.

“Spur,” the Decepticon squeaked, trying to back away from the sword while keeping both hands on his hip. Drift noted the dent in his helm where Rodimus had shot him earlier. “We were stationed on the same moon. We’re business partners.”

“Are they coming back for you?”

“Yes!” Spur nodded his head, optics bright and wide. “They’re coming back with reinforcements, and they’re going to be mad if something happens to me.”

Drift would have groaned, had he the energy. Even if Spur was lying (most likely) the possibility of Grit reaching out to other rogues put Vitrious in a much riskier situation than it had been in before. Suddenly, it was no longer a matter of stopping a single slave trade operation: now there was information on the line, harder to predict and much more complicated to contain. Once he had the immediate threats neutralized, he was going to have to determine whether the Galactic Council should be tipped off to the vulnerability of this sector, a question of whether safety from Decepticons was worth the Council’s brand of planetary defense.

That was a problem for the future, though, one he was able to brush aside as he sheathed his sword and leaned down, hoisting Spur with his good arm while he used his bad one for balance.

“What? Hey, wh—”

“You know where they’re going,” Drift said. “Give me the coordinates.”

“N-no! What would I—”

“You want to get back together with your crew, right?” Drift asked, dropping Spur back into the ruined cell. “Give me the coordinates and I’ll make sure you’re still online when we drop you off.” It was a bluff, of course, but Drift had always had a talent for making bots think the worst of him.

He received the packet over a broadband comm frequency. After scanning it for viruses, he diverted it to the ship’s navigation system, then popped open one of the panels in the wall and retrieved a pile of stained rags. He crouched beside Spur and dropped the rags so he could catch one of the Con’s desperate hands and pry it away from his wound.

“Wait—”

“Relax,” he commanded, deftly retrieving his cuffs so he could clip one end around Spur’s wrist and the other to the lower frame of the cell where it extended slightly from the floor. It would make for a less comfortable trip, but that was what he got for breaking Drift’s things: Grit had shorted the locking mechanism and brute forced the failsafe. It would be a time-consuming fix, both whatever patch job he could throw together and the eventual repair stop he would have to make at a legitimate mechanic.

Satisfied Spur was secure, he pulled away Spur’s other hand and started to mop up the spilled energon with one of the rags. Already, the flow had slowed, but he wanted to see the damage for himself before he trusted self-repair.

“Here,” he said, pushing the pile to Spur. “Pack the wound with that to slow the bleeding. I’ll take a closer look once we’re airborne.”

Spur stared at the rags like he had no idea what to do with them, which Drift doubted. One did not make it through a war like theirs without learning the tricks to keep a body from dying.

“Why?” he asked.

Drift received a ping from the navicomp and waved off Spur’s question, retreating to the pilot’s console to confirm the flight path. As he had suspected, the destination was not far. Even doubling the computer’s estimated travel time, which had become necessary since the last time he’d wormed his was into the engine, it would still barely be enough time to prepare for a conflict. He hit a button to raise the hatch and input the commands to prepare for takeoff. Faint voices were buzzing through the ship’s comm system, and he entertained the idea of shutting that off, too.

“Gonna get that?” Spur asked, optics angling to the speaker.

“Don’t know,” Drift said, playing with the volume control. The sound dipped so low he might have mistaken it for a piece of his thoughts, too indistinct to even be called nonsense.

“It’s your team, right?”

“No, not really.” He shut it off, the sound of the engine filling the space so immediately he didn’t have time to miss it.

“I would’ve killed you, if it hadn’t been for them.”

Drift glanced back. Spur had taken his suggestion and was packing the wound, and there was defiance in his posture now that he was not stooping to keep himself from bleeding out.

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Drift said. “You were aiming for my helm, right? The finials make me look taller than I really am. Your shot would have missed my cranial casing by less than an inch. A blow like that would knock me down, make it look like you had hit, but I would have received more damage from the fall itself than the gunshot. Provided I landed with my palm down, I would have retaliated before you got your finger back around the trigger.” He turned back to the viewshield. Ratchet and Rodimus had disappeared, the Decepticraft’s hatch was shut, and the engines were coming online.

Spur huffed.

“Autobots are weird.”

“I’m not an Autobot.”

“Nah, but they are.” There was a clink of metal, as though Spur had tried to gesture with his bound hand. “Never seen them give a scrap about a bot like you.”

A notification came up: shuttle primed and ready.

“Listen,” Spur said. “You’ve clearly got some sort of history. I don’t care what. But in my experience, there’s no bigger nuisance in the universe than an Autobot who decides to care about something, especially if it happens to be none of his business and all of yours. So, in the interest of not getting shot again, can you at least make sure you have those two under control?”

Drift leaned his head back to look at the ceiling. He wasn’t an Autobot. Not anymore, Rodimus had seen to that, and he’d never really wanted to be one, anyway. Did he care about things in a fundamentally different way from how Ratchet and Rodimus did? Had the divides in their species been driven down that far? Or had they been the reason for the war in the first place? He didn’t have an answer for that. But maybe Spur had a point. Without looking, he turned the comms back on.

“—on’t go yet, just listen, we—”

“What.”

“Drift!” Rodimus said.

“What’s your fuel pump pressure?” Ratchet asked. “Feel anything loose or out of alignment?”

Drift shook his head. There was a twinge in his shoulder and the usual weight of his body, but those were manageable.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Grit’s collecting reinforcements. I’m going to intercept. You two should head for the nearest Council-aligned planet and wait there; if you hear even a rumor that Cybertronians have started moving in, let the local enforcement division know.” They would alert the Galactic Council security forces, and then Vitrious would be out of their hands.

“We’re coming with you,” Rodimus said, though the tone was all wrong. He sounded like Ratchet.

“No.” Commands had never suited Drift’s voice; even now, it came out sounding like a demand. “I can’t help you, and I sure as slag can’t protect you. What happens if the Decepticons find you? Or worse, get onto the ship and find the—” he glanced back at Spur, “—the you-know-what? Then it’s not just Vitrious: everyone’s problems get so much worse.” His fingers were drumming the console, an anxious non-beat. “I’m sorry that you wasted so much time coming out here and that you’re having to live through this. Really, I am. But I need you to let me do this.” Once Grit was taken care of, he would regroup with them and do what he could to help their situation, what little it was. But his list of debts was long and this one came first.

“We don’t need your help or your protection,” Ratchet said. “Believe it or not, we’re more than capable of taking care of ourselves, and we can recognize when someone else’s problems are more pressing than our own. We’re coming to help you, Drift.”

His hands wrapped around the yoke.

“I’m not going to—”

“We’ve still got a tracker on that shuttle,” Ratchet went on. “So, you can either ping us the coordinates now and let us strategize on the way there, or you can wait for us to catch up in the middle of—of whatever this is. Your call.”

Drift’s engine growled. He heard a hiccup from behind and turned his glare on Spur, who looked inappropriately unrepentant for a mech cuffed to the floor.

“I hope you know I hate you both.”

“Hey!” Rodimus yelped, but Ratchet laughed, and a moment later Rodimus’ nervous chuckle floated through as well.