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Create a Playlist of 10 songs for your desired muse and tag people to keep it going!

Sick Like Me - In This Moment

I Come With Knives - IAMX

Run - OneRepublic, Collins Remix

Bad Feeling - Jagwar Twin

All Eyes On You - Smash Into Pieces

Trouble Is A Friend - Lenka

Teeth - 8 Graves

JOYRIDE - Kesha

Choke - I Don't Know How But They Found Me

Hide and Seek - Klergy, Mindy Jones

Tagged by: @dollofiacon (Thank you <3) Tagging: Whoever wants to do it :3

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Craving violence.

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Servos stretched out upwards with a creak coming beneath his scale plating. "Ahh, much better~" Darkfang purred and redirected his attention back to his current companion.

"So, what did you shove up your no no hole again?"

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SexValues

"Hmm, I won't disagree or agree with these results."

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"I have my ways to keep bots off your aft too, so it should make snack stealing quite smooth." Some entertainment to wait on, if he got put back to work by the bots above. He'd do anything to get in the high ups circuits, more chaos the better. He'd deal with the consequences later.

Unlike Orion Pax, Darkfang didn't have a best friend to get him out of trouble. Only his boss, who could easily soften a mech's circuits by waving around a few shanix. He doubted, the cogless bots had the same manners. They seemed, closer.

"He keeps your aft away from getting offlined, by the sounds of it." The Snake commented and glanced over the empty hole on Orion's chassis. He wanted to stick his digits into it. A passing thought.

"Wait, can you actually buy a cog? Or use one if some mech else gave you theirs?" Another sign, his education had been limited in his seclusion.

"Sounds like a plan!" Orion laughs and continues to nibble on his rust stick. " It will definitely make it a lot easier having another bot to help keep watch or something! It's hard when I'm a single player!"

Watching Darkfant change their positioning made Orion realize that he had been sitting on the crate with his leg tucked in, so he too switched, favoring the left now instead of the right.

"Maybe! I don't expect Dee to take part if he doesn't want to, but he's always there just in case I need him, even if its not in the escapades themselves! If i had a shanix for every time He was able to cover for me, or get my dumb aft out of trouble, I could probably BUY myself a cog!"

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((Darkfang and Mourningstar in a licking war, I immediately thought about this 😂 ))

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Mlem mlem. Get licked.

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*flirtatiously* bleeding out all by yourself, handsome?

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A small surprised gasp escaped Prima's vocals along with slightly wider optics at the shift in position. He didn't expect it, nor did he fight it. The frame against him felt comfortable and warm. He couldn't help but softly chuckle at his own reaction as he rested his helm down against Megatronus's chassis. Comfy berth indeed.

"Yes, you're right. It's better not to worry about the 'what if's' at this point in time." He softly spoke, with optics relaxing to a half dimmed position. He didn't realize how exhausted he was, until the thought of recharge processed into his circuits.

A small ex-vent escaped from within his frame, as he loosely rested a servo against the side of the bigger Prime's chassis. One last glance given to the scarred features of Megatronus's face plates, and a soft smile. "Hope you enjoy the view." He muttered out without further explanation and made himself comfortable until his frame fell into the peaceful embrace of recharge.

"That is a fair observation." The words were accompanied by a warm chuckle, adjusting himself so that Prima could better rest against him. He didn't mind this sort of contact one bit. In fact, it was comforting in a way he couldn't quite place.

After a moment, he adjusted so that he was lying on his back and gently tugged at the smaller Prime so he could lay atop his chassis. For all his heavy and tough armoring, he was rather comfortable. The warmth that came from his frame likely helped, at that.

"Well, the concerns of what should happen once we reach Iacon can be tended to once we arrive. For now, you should rest. I will keep watch." Until recharge took him, that is. It was doubtful that there would be any threats to them out this far, but it felt like it was in his nature to be vigilant.

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Moonstone reprocessed her words, to clear up if he heard right. Enclosure? Did they lock her up? With how casually she spoke about it, perhaps the scientists helped her? That's always what his boss said, he helped people to show their true potential. "He is a scientist, yes." Moonstone managed to respond. "He collects samples that may prove useful for him and others." He didn't know the details, nor did he ever bother checking.

Mourningstar's words lingered within his brain module, in both curiosity and worry. He heard his boss take in bots that needed special care, to help them, but was she like that too? She certainly had features that scientists would reach their servos for in an instant.

Like the rumbling growl that came out of her frame, that made him snap his helm downwards at her abdominal plating. "They didn't put anything inside you, did they?" He asked without thinking, before nervously laughing. "Or wait, was that your tanks? The metal stick didn't make it upset, did it?"

"That truly sounds like a dream...!~ I bet it was a divine experience just to see such majestic creatures..." Mourningstar cooed in wonder, optics wide and gaining a glimmer. "Is your boss a scientist as well? I don't always know what scientists do, but sometimes, they'll send things from different planets to put in my enclosure," She let slip, not seeming to realize that what she just said probably wasn't very normal for other Cybertronians. Even for someone like Moonstone.

Once the first little stick was gone, the femme glanced over at the container of--presumably-- free dentae picks. She looked tempted to have another one, judging by the rhythmic flexing of her long digits... But, she refrained. As gluttonous as she tended to be, Mourningstar refused to be greedy.

However, her cinched chassis let out a growl as the center seam of her corset just barely moved. The growl didn't sound like any normal rumble of a bot's fuel tanks running low, however. It sounded more animalistic...

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Ah, frag-- Nothing ever prepared him for the intensity of his lord's touch. Like a hot iron, that burned from his kissed derma to his array. Sensitive, hot, and leaking.

The Snake's hips bucked into Megatron's touch, node blinking between heavy digits. His vocals glitched, in a quivering set of moans. He shook like a leaf, with his valve clenching in a desperate need to be filled.

"Megs... Megatron. Ahh--!" Beg, beg for it? He shouldn't, but he wanted it. Clawed digits pawed between his thighs, placing beneath the silver spike, to nudge it to rest between his folds. A naughty impatient act, to feel the heat of his spike snug against him.

"My digits, not enough. I want this, yours. It's bigger, and better." It counted as begging, right? He didn't want him to say please, did he? Frag, he felt like he could overload on the spot, just from thinking about it.

unable to take it anymore, megatron lays down next to him, grabbing his head and planting a hard kiss into his mouth.

his servo reached down, searching for darkfang's digits and replacing them with his own. caressing the node and pinching it slightly.

megatron separes himself and whispers on the snake's audials. “ tell how much you want it. “ he pants. a soft hiss once he releases his spike. red biolights glow brightly against the silver plating. “ beg me for it. “ placing his spike between darkfang's tights, close to his soaked valve, but not enough. “ or you would have to get off with your digits only.”

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Oh no, he's been ran over.

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Artist: Longgoo

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Unique or different behavior patterns brought out a set of different reactions, depending on who saw or experienced it. Azurite didn't blame them for it, but he certainly didn't forget it either. "I get a variety of reactions from landmechs. Shock, rudeness, understanding, awkwardness. The rude one's stick to your helm, like it or not." He paused, fins bristling upon his back. "I call them out on their behavior and it works, in some cases." He finished.

He didn't hold grudges, just disappointment. Still, Redstrike, another mech who showed the better side of landwalkers. Understanding, and adapting to his ways.

The Mer tugged the crate closer beneath his chassis at the offer of help. Hesitation clear within his servos as helm tilted to aim his covered optic towards the additional limbs the Snake carried. Helpful. "Thank you, but I can carry it by myself." Still, a rejection, spoken as kindly as he managed.

A rejection he may regret later, with how slowly he walked behind the shorter bot. Pointed pedes clicked along the pavement, with a heavy tail dragging along, and to balance his frame's weight between the front and back.

"And seven? That's a lot." He commented, and readjusted his grip on the crate. Hope he didn't have to introduce himself in front of all of them at once.

"Is it normal for landmech's to have big families? And pet... glitchgoats?" Never seen one, or knew what it was.

Redstrike chuckled and nodded at Azurite's explanation. "All too true. Behaviors can become quite deeply ingrained in us. For good or ill. Though I hope the mecha around here haven't been rude to you because of it?" He asked, sounding curious but sympathetic. His scales lifting slightly in imagined offense on the other mech's behalf.

It took a moment to clean up his supplies but it went much faster than someone observing him might have thought. He was surprisingly organized considering his rather disorganized process. He tucked his carrying case under an arm and then looked over at Azurite, tilting his head as he looked over the vast array of the other's belongings. "I could help you carry some of that if you like. I'm not particularly strong but I have an excess of spare hands available." He commented, wiggling his three free hands in example.

At the question Redstrike hummed and idly smiled, his optics fond as he thought of his little patched together family unit. "More ship than cavern. It's a way to make myself home wherever I happen to travel." He explained as he began to lead the way down the street.

"Right now there are seven of us in total. Though three of our little group are often hard to spot or otherwise too busy to spot. And I suppose that's only if we're not counting my Amica's pet glitchgoat." he added, suddenly recalling Gary's presence in their cargo hold. Not that the goat was particularly easy to forget.

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An urge to ask for details tickled upon Darkfang's glossa. He wanted to know more, as information went a long way, and curiosity carried upon his processors to this day. But he knew, it came with risks of being too pushy or noisy.

He knew, Cybertron didn't treat everyone sweetly even before the war. He'd been there. Why he wanted to know more, if she'd been treated the same, but alas, the Snake held his glossa.

Another time to dwell in the past, to share stories. For now, Darkfang listened, sipping his drink quietly to settle the vague information within his brain module. "I guess, the war both saved and messed us up one way or another. Still, sounds like you got an interesting enough job now."

Darkfang placed the cube down, brushing a servo over his pointed gauntlet. "I'd love to hire you too, but you're correct, I don't have a need for a bodyguard." He paused and shifted his optics upon hers. "And if I did, I'd think bots would get confused on who the actual celebrity is." A hint towards how pretty the bot before him was.

She didn't think he wanted to hear the full sob story, nor did she want to get into details. So she kept it brief. "Before the war, I used to dance... among other things. My affairs weren't managed, per say. I was a slave."

The last of her drink slid around the bottom of the cup, her optics chasing the rivulet as it circled.

This part she would need to tread lightly with. There was always someone listening, searching. It came with the territory.

"The war happened, obviously. I liberated myself. I survived. Now I make a living handling other people's affairs. Closing contracts, if you will."

While many of the remaining Decepticons had been unofficially pardoned - so long as their crimes weren't too heinous - her chosen career put its own target on her back. She never got to stay in one place too long, so the reprieve was odd. It was... nice to just sit.

The red femme chuckled. "I could technically be your bodyguard, if you needed one. I have a feeling you don't, though."

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//Just had a funny image, of instead of transforming the modded pedes, Azurite would just pop the pedes off when he doesn't need them. lol. (Mainly came to mind cause wonder if them being stuffed within his tail would get in the way of doing sharp curves in the water).

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Oh no, he's been ran over.