#Amber Ratchet

[thevoyageurmoteplass-writing]

‘That kid’s in here a lot nowadays,’ Amber commented as soon as the door closed behind Alia.

Justin sighed, nonetheless a small smirk curved his lips as he turned to face her. ‘Surely you remember what school projects are like.’

Amber shrugged, turned her attention back to filling the chocolate shaker before the commuter rush. ‘Pretty sure posh kids don’t get projects that force them to check some allergy standards at an independent coffee shop. They wouldn’t want their little darlings mixing with the peasant classes if they could help it.’

Slowly, Justin blinked at her. ‘What makes you say posh kids? Could just be well-spoken.’

Amber scoffed, causing some chocolate shavings to tumble onto the counter. She brushed them away with the side of her hand as she spoke. ‘You remember what district of London you’re in right now don’t you, Peckham?’

‘Ha, ha,’ said Justin dryly. The cross city cycle to get to work only highlighted the difference between where he lived and where he worked; from council estate to affluent area. Sometimes, there was no forgetting which district of London he was in.

‘Anyway, it’s more the fact she’s been in here a couple of times with that Ashcroft kid than anything.’

Justin shot her a blank look as he wiped over a couple of trays that had been left for cleaning.

Amber let out an exasperated groan. ‘You are incorrigible, Justin Moreaux. Only the kid of two political bigwigs. Two opposing political bigwigs no less.’

‘And you’re just mentioning this now?’ Justin asked sceptically. It was normal for Amber to defer all political talk to someone else, knowing how little attention Justin paid to much of it. But celebrity news? Her failure to mention, even in passing, a minor celebrity had been in the café a few times in recent months was unusual.

‘Thought it’d be some reminiscing thing, you know?’ she asked as a new customer entered. Justin glanced up briefly at the new arrival, shot the blond man a small smile as Amber lowered her voice. ‘Like, we’d talk about that one time Fred Ashcroft came here just to make dull days a bit better. Didn’t expect him to still be coming here every other week!’

‘Good afternoon, what can I get you?’ Justin greeted their customer, trying to cover the smirk that was fighting its way onto his face from Amber’s comments.

‘All right, mate?’ the man said, Welsh accent obvious. He opened his mouth, probably to order, but was cut off by the door swinging open with more force than was strictly necessary.

‘Claudine, no,’ said Alia, voice firmer than Justin had heard it before.

A smirk tugged at the man’s lips. ‘Whatever she normally has, a black coffee and your usual, cheers.’

Alia strode over, radiating such irritation that she seemed much taller than her short stature.

‘Don’t worry, love,’ the man said as Amber started preparing the order. ‘It’s just a little chat about the possible end of the world.’

Alia groaned and it took a moment for the words to fully sink in for Justin as he brought the order up on the till. ‘That’ll be… I’m sorry, pardon?’

[stargirlie-sharon]

remember that one au i made a while ago? (link) i went ahead and made some memes about it lmaoo

i don't write i make memes for my aus because i'm too dang lazy most of the time to actually write about it

i present to you,

a shadow of your past self/shadows of broomscity - MEMES!

as you can see, they are all very insane (esp amber)

i love morality role switch aus (good becomes evil, evil becomes good), it's fun :)

i jokingly call this the shattered glass au, named after transformers: shattered glass (a universe where the autobots are evil and the decepticons are good, role reversal)

oh and i guess this would mean that poacher and truck x would be good guys now? which is pretty cool and i'm probably gonna work on them later

any transformers + robocar poli fans here?? please i'd love to interact with you, thanks

by the way i still have no idea where to put jin in this au

also, i made another version of the last meme

AHAHAHAGAGAGAGSGSJEKSHSH i'm sorry roy

[witchofthesouls]

In the soul mate au between Miko and Tarn, the incoming Cybertronians would think that Jack Darby is the biggest ho to ever ho.

Ratchet is dying because Jack's mannerisms and ways of affection do remind the medic of the halcyon days with Orion Pax, pre-Megatronus. (Mind you, Ratchet has rose-tinted glasses about those days and feels really nostalgic over Orion's quirks. Even if he had to bail the mech from jail several times and stop him from eating tampered fuel substances.) And he just wants his other colleagues and fellow Autobots to know the real Jack.

Unfortunately, Jack has a tendency to meet all the newcomers in various states of undress, aka without his armor, which is a very shameless state.

Ratchet first walked into a freshly cyberformed!Jack, coming out of the shower with only a towel around his waist because of the nasty amount of sludge in every inch of his frame. Even his armor needed a deep scrubbing. In parts.

Soundwave remet the guy in his swim trunks because he came from relaxing in a geyser.

The first time he met the Justice Division, he was stripped down to sweatpants while Miko was categorizing his opened chassis, including his spark chamber. Miko was practicing the new educational module from Soundwave and Ratchet, and Jack was the willing dummy since they were trying to nail down the differences between baseline Cybertronians and their hybrid status. So not just shameless, but in a highly provocative position as well. Miko and Jack were treated to the sight of stumped D.J.D. members with slaw jaws and choking noises.

So now, mecha are thinking that Jack and Miko have an "understanding." And Tarn's jealous over it.

______

Jack breathed as evenly as possible. Body still as Miko carefully traced his new organs, muttering Neocybex under her breath on what each part was called, both in Pit Kaonite and Iaconi medical. Her fingers were blunted, not her usual talons, as she skimmed the connections, musculature, protoform, and circuitry. Jack closed his optics, sinking into a light mediation, and only shivered as those fingers brushed over his new heart.

"How does this feel," Miko questioned as she coaxed the chamber to open. And he allowed it. All three of them had been together for lifetimes, and very little boundaries existed between them at this point.

"Weird," Jack replied as his spark quivered, white light blinding, shadows playing across Miko's curious face and the walls.

"Good weird? Bad weird? Spiritual possession weird? You have to give me something more descriptive." She said with exasperation, teeth glinting in the byplay between light and shadow.

"Dangerous weird." His words hitched, body twitching, vision clouding at the edges, and he forced down the sudden instinct to flee-FLEE into dark corners, to sink into the safety of the furniture shade.

Due to the uplinks between them, Miko immediately applied the medical overrides, and the painted diagnostic sigils flared to life across his limbs, and Jack went limp, tension cut from his body.

Miko frowned. The geared rings in her amber optics turned as she ran calculations, and whatever she was about to say was cut as the closet door opened.

Jack couldn't see them as he was sitting on the couch with his back towards them, but he picked up quite a crowd. All of the individuals choking on air. Wings twitching from the unknown signatures suddenly appearing in his space, and Miko lined her own over his, exuding calm-still-potential allies.

She huffed, amusement and annoyance warred in her field as she quickly pulled off the sigils with a fanciful twirl of her fingers, and they worked together to disconnect their systems from each other. Jack shut closed his chassis, and his innards dispersed once more, spark chamber hiding wherever it was. It was honestly far more difficult for him to drag that specific organ to the open air than his first attempts to blend his new metal frame into living trees. "This isn't what it looks like, old man."

Jack pulled over his shirt to cover his protoform, and turned around, dark and pink wings avoiding each other in familiarity, to see Ratchet running a servo down his face and an assortment of bewildered strangers staring at them through the portal. Even if the Decepticon badges weren't gleaming on a chassis, the tank with the mask shaped as the very Decepticon logo was a dead given away of their allegiance.

:: Soundwave does it better. He got the extra creep factor without the eye holes. :: Miko snorted through the private channel, crossing her arms as she leaned on the back of the couch, deceptively loose and uncaring.

:: Hey, don't knock down a perfectly good presentation. Eyes are windows to the soul, and eyes make others feel at ease. Soundwave gives no fucks about normalcy or social manners. ::

:: Soundwave does what better? :: Raf commented. :: And hard agree on that assessment. ::

:: We'll fill you in later. :: Jack replied as Miko simultaneously responded. :: We got fresh meat. ::

"So," Jack drawled, propping an elbow on the sofa back, supporting his head on that hand. "What brings this lot to our corner of the universe?"

[dearest-amber-daily]

Ahaha. Ahahaha... I screwed up-

So. How do I explain myself- Well- while on patrol, I found this glass container of this strange, green substance, deep in the woods. It had something written on its bottom. "Synthetic Energon", I believe? It's unlike anything I've seen before.

I took it back to headquarters since I wanted to study it more, and I was going to ask Jin if she wanted help with examining the liquid, and then... uuhhh.....

The aforementioned "synthetic energon" (or synth-en, if you will), is splattered onto the floor, the large vial fractured. It didn't seem like it fell from that great of a height, but it was enough to break it a bit. The medic's eyes seem to be different than usual, her eyes glowing green, akin to the green liquid behind her, rather than her usual pink eyes.

Jin- Jin please don't get mad at me. I know I'm not one to usually make mistakes like this, but it was an accident, and while I was too invested in this new discovery I wasn't looking at where I was going and... that happened.

I should also add... I may have consumed some of it, before it fell. Just thought that was worth mentioning. It was a dumb decision. I know. I was caught up in my curiosity at the time. But, I feel strangely energized after drinking it? Like, I feel a lot stronger? And pumped up, too. I don't know how or why, but that's just how I feel.

I'll get to cleaning it later, I just have... no idea what to do next....

@daily-rcp-poli @daily-jin-madebygenius @dailyrcproy @the-hellycopter-photographer

Transformers RP blogs highly encouraged to interact! <3 This is a Transformers reference after all, and as a huge fan of it, (esp TFP), I wanted to do something related to both of my main fandoms!

It'd be nice to help a non-cybertronian, with a cybertronian problem. Speaking of that, Amber could use help from a fellow medic... (perhaps Ratchet? he's dealt with this before. or Knockout. Or literally TF blog in general, i'm desperate for TF roleplays lmao)

MORE INFO UNDER CUT! (if you don't know what synth-en is, or who amber is)

Synthetic Energon (nicknamed Synth-En) is a manufactured version of Energon, the fuel/lifeblood of Transformers. But unlike normal Energon, it is entirely artificial. It's very effective, and when used on machinery, it's proven to work very well. The catch is, it just works a little too well when used on sentient machinery.

When used on a Cybertronian (or in this case, a robovan), it brings them into a significantly more powerful state. However, it has the side-effect of affecting the user's mental stability, with heightening their agression and arrogance. The user may choose to make some... impulsive decisions, too.

Synthetic energon made its debut in Transformers: Prime, in season 1, episode 22. The medical bot, Ratchet, gets into contact with it and proceeds to get high on steroids.

When I realised Ratchet and Amber were in fandoms I were highly invested in, were both about transforming robots, AND WERE BOTH MEDICS, I decided it was the perfect idea to put Amber in Ratchet's position.

Amber is from the cartoon Robocar Poli, a show about a rescue team of transforming vehicles who save their town from various accidents. A medical expert who's kind, friendly and intelligent. Also, terrifying when mad.

I love Amber. I love Amber so much it hurts me. Same with Ratchet. I have a thing for medical robot characters...

She's a manmade transforming vehicle (implied. i don't think we've gotten solid confirmation or had someone say that the robocars are manmade but oh well we all collectively agree that they're manmade), sooo.. not cybertronian. With synthetic energon, and unrefined synth-en at that. This is totally going to go well.

RCP and TFP, while they have their similarities, they are drastically different. Transformers Prime is about robot warfare. Robocar Poli is a version of Rescue Bots from paralel universe (a reference to one post I saw). I love them both.

medics my beloved.

Anyway, now that you're done reading, GO WILD WITH THE ROLEPLAYS!!!! <33 i'd be so happy to see your rp responses >:D

- Mod Sharon

[cozzzynook]

TFP Ratchlock idea

Ratchet over hears Arcee and Wheeljack talking to each other after they come back from a scouting mission. They gossip about how they found a pretty damaged ship but no traces of energon or anyone inside, this grabs Ratchet's attention as the monitor didn't pick up a ship signal which means the ship was cloaked somehow. The medic thinks nothing off it and keeps himself busy for the rest of the day as the once blue sky turns dark.

When Ratchet is sitting in his Hab ready to fall in recharge after a long day, he suddenly gets the feeling that he is being watched while hearing the sound of shuffling just outside his door. He quietly grabs listings to the sounds while grabbing one his knives in just in case, Suddenly the Hab door opens and a large blur of Grey and white amour hits Ratchet pinning the medic to the berth while a familiar EM field fills the room along with 2 very dark amber optics.

Deadlock is quietly explaining how he lured the others away with his ship and how he snuck into the base without being noticed. Ratchet simply rolls his optics and scold his secret Conjunx how stupid that idea was while also hugging him closely simply enjoying holding his big scary partner again after so long.

Hope you enjoy :D

I can honestly see him sassing Deadlock as he pins him to the berth not a single ounce of fear in him as he tells off a deadly assassin before hugging and kissing them.

I just know he hits Deadlock with a wrench who hasn’t seen a medic in centuries lol

[my-writings-and-musings]

use this ask as an excuse to post something self indulgent >:3

I wrote two other fics that were just too self indulgent before deciding on this one I hope you're ready to accept the consequences of your actions anon, and that everyone here likes robot babies. (Thank you very much for this I really enjoyed writing it!)

"Hey, you awake?"

Tired eyes opening wide from a sleep you hadn't intended to slip into, your breath hitched in surprise, arms tightening over the bundle in your grasp in a protective reflex. You found a digit holding your chin up and a careful servo supporting your shoulder to keep you sitting up in bed, compelling you to relax with a sigh. You must have really been exhausted if Bee had been able to climb on the berth without you noticing. 

"Apparently." you replied in a weak croak, still struggling to form words after so much screaming and exertion. Bumblebee smiled, grabbing some of the abundant spare pillows to pile them at your back for more support. Sighing, you allowed yourself to sink backwards, much too tired to hold any part of your body up for long. The simple act of cradling the tiny bundle across your arms was taxing enough.

"I can take him, if you want to get some sleep." Bumblebee offered as he laid down on his side to partially encircle you. In the dim light of the makeshift delivery room his optics cast a soft blue glow for you to see by, and after blinking some of the sleep from your eyes you smiled down at the tiny form snoozing in your arms, pulling the blankets away from his face for a better look. 

"I will... I just want to look at him a little longer." you said in a whisper, smile deepening as the sleeping sparkling cooed softly from a dream. He was certainly much cuter now that he'd been cleaned off and had stopped squalling, but you'd loved him from the moment his tiny form had been laid on your chest, the differences in your biology not even registering as he'd huddled against you for protection from the big, scary world. In the few hours that had passed since his birth you'd noticed many little things that had first missed your attention, from a pair of tiny horns atop his rounded helm to the lovely shade of amber blooming across his smooth, soft carapace, and you didn't want to miss even the smallest new discovery. Bumblebee seemed to share your wonder as he cupped a much larger servo beneath the newborn.

"We did make a pretty cute bitlet." he agreed affectionately, stroking the tip of his thumb over their chubby cheek. His son reflexively nuzzled into the touch, warming your heart as it had been when he'd first held the tiny being you'd created together in the happiest of accidents. Much like the sparkling, Bee had been weeping then, though his tears had come from the same unmatched joy currently pulling up his lips in a contented smile. "Has he been sleeping the whole time I was gone?"

"Pretty much. I guess being born really tuckered him out." you replied with a tiny chuckle, remembering how swiftly the sparkling had gone from wailing to conking out in your arms once Ratchet had cleaned and swaddled him. Despite never having overseen a delivery from an organic carrier before, the medic had been one of the only sources of calm in the room when you'd gone into labor, a trend that had begun the moment he'd confirmed that you and Bumblebee were expecting. Nine months and an exhaustive series of lessons on adaptive Cybertronian genetics later, here you all were...

"If it tuckered you out, you're free to get some sleep." Bumblebee offered suddenly, taking you out of your thoughts. A part of you wanted to accept without hesitation, but a much newer part of you didn't want to part from your offspring for a moment, and certainly not for the multiple hours of rest your body would require. Though you knew you'd eventually concede, the strength of that new facet of yourself was quite surprising.

"Soon enough, I promise." you assured with a yawn, adjusting the newborn so you could rub your tired eyes. Nowhere near your phone or a window, it occurred to you that time had more or less slipped away after you'd started measuring the gap between contractions. You weren't even sure how long you'd been in labor or if it was even the same day. "What time is it?"

"Late. Technically so late it's early. Alex and Dot sent all the kids to bed, Terrans included. They're pretty worn out from the excitement." Bumblebee explained with amusement. Recalling how you'd granted the children a visit once everything had calmed down after the delivery, and how it had been a wonderful but exhausting blur of excitement, awe and happy tears, you weren't surprised to hear they were all worn out and in need of a nap. With all the work their parents had done keeping their children's excitement in check, while still gushing over the newborn themselves, you wouldn't have been surprised if the whole family needed rest. 

"They were very excited. I lost track of how many pictures Hashtag took." you replied through a tiny chuckle. Putting your hand over Bumblebee's so the two of you cradled the sparkling together, you tried to keep the attention off yourself, not wanting to acknowledge that you were indeed on the very edge of passing out. "What about you? Don't you need some sleep?"

"Soon enough." he said in a voice that didn't disguise his own exhaustion. Sliding his thumb downwards to one of the sparkling's tiny fists, he allowed the little one to reflexively grasp the tip with his stubby digits, making your heart melt at the cuteness. Bumblebee went quiet with a deep, contemplative smile as the two of you watched over your son without needing to speak. It was hard to believe he'd be a standard sized bot one day, but in fairness to yourself, it was hard to believe this little bundle was even here. Bee sounded equally awed when he finally broke the thoughtful silence. "I wouldn't mind a little time to just look at him either."

"Okay..." you conceded with a sigh, unable to deny that you needed to rest any longer. It also seemed fair for Bee to get a turn with the little one, especially considering you'd been holding him the majority of his life so far. Unable to let go easily, you transferred the newborn with the focus of a sculptor handing over the world's most delicate glass, feeling an instinctive surge of protection as Bee took him into his palms and their tiny weight was removed from your grasp. You couldn't stop yourself from babbling through the urge to take him back and never let go. "But if you need me-"

"The Maltos are ready if I need help, along with Ratchet and every other member of the team. You don't have to worry about us, but you do need sleep." Bumblebee responded quickly but with full patience, speaking with so much confidence he must have anticipated your hesitation. Your mild embarrassment at this newfound overprotectiveness was soothed when you considered how your extended friends and family had more or less turned the Dugout into an armored fortress to protect the new arrival, complete with checks of the perimeter and the installation of multiple high powered weapons to counter any threat foolish enough to attempt an attack. With the Maltos and the Autobots fretting over his safety together, it was possible your baby was the safest one on Earth. Bumblebee didn't need to offer any further encouragement as he held the newborn against his chest with one servo and tucked you in with the other. "We'll be here when you wake up."

"Fair enough." you conceded with a sigh, more weary than you would have thought possible as you finally allowed yourself to be put to bed. Your eyes lingered on the tiny bundle for a moment longer, and the last vestiges of your worry slipped away as you watched the tiny mech yawn and snuggle against his sire for warmth. For now, you truly hadn't a thing to worry about.

[commanderdianashepard]

Yandere Soundwave X female AUTOBOT reader (no human reader please) who is essentially the opposite of Soundwave.

I got you.

~

The reader is an Autobot named Amber Light (Requster’s OC not mine), a medic who works alongside Ratchet with the Autobots. Soundwave has always had a crush on her even before the war started. While she was more extroverted and talkative, Soundwave was always pretty quiet and as much as he didn't want to admit it, kind of shy. His crush on her formed when she protected Laserbeak from scavagers trying to scrap him for spare parts when he got separated from Soundwave. Ever since he couldn't stop thinking about her.

He never got to confess his feelings due to the war starting, pinning them against each other on two different sides. Even when Soundwave is happy to hear that she's alive when they're all on Earth, he knows the possibility of them being together is low, due to the risk to the safety of both of them which upsets him.

However, fate has other plans for them, very complicated plans, with lots of twists and turns.

So heres the 1st part of this series of one-shots called “The Bird’s Prey.”

Hope you enjoy.

~

{Episode 1: The New Face}

Starscream: “You’re telling me there’s another Autobot???”

Knockout: “Yes another medic, seems like she's been hiding from us this whole time. The cranky old doc bot was out of commission so this one had to fill in for him.”

Starscream: “Interesting, do you have any more info on this bot?”

*Soundwave was walking towards the room as they were talking*

Knockout: “From what Breakdown and I have heard the Autobots refer to her as Amber Light. I think she's the old doc bot’s daughter. I mean it's not hard to tell, she's basically a clone of him.”

Soundwave: *Stops at the door and listens*

Starscream: “Now that you mention it, that name does sound familiar. Let's look deeper shall we?” *He goes to the main computer and looks up her name in the files* “Ah, her, I remember now, she was a medic for the military before the war. Very talkative thing she was.”

Soundwave: *Quickly walks over to the computer and looks over the file*

Starscream: “Wah- Hey! You could at least say excuse me before you come barging in like that.”

Soundwave: *Just Stares at the computer*

Knockout: “What's his deal?”

Starscream: “Knowing him he's probably figuring out how we can get our hands on her, she has a lot of useful information and can be useful to our cause. Of course, we would have to use certain tactics to get her to talk.”

Knockout: “Such as?”

Starscream: *Raises up one of his claws* “Very…Persuasive tactics.”

*Suddenly one of Soundwave’s tentacles grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly*

Starscream: “What the-?! Soundwave! What do you think you're doing?!” *Trying to rip the tentacle off*

*The grip only became tighter almost snapping his wrist*

Starscream: “Let me go you imbecile!”

Soundwave: *Death glaring him*

*The doors opened as Megatron walked in*

Megatron: “What is going on here??”

Soundwave: *Looks at Megatron and retracts his tentacle*

Starscream: *Rubbing his wrist* “Lord Megatron, Knockout found some info on an Autobot that's been hiding in the shadows. This is the first time we've seen her on Earth. Her name is Amber Light, it turns out she's the daughter of Ratchet.”

Megatron: “Hmmm interesting..” *He looked at the file* “Another medic hm? Military rank too..She can be useful.”

Knockout: “It seems that Soundwave also has an interest in her, he may know more about her than we do.”

Megatron: “Hm, in that case, Soundwave, you'll be in charge of keeping track of this new Autobot. Keep an eye out for anything useful she might have, once you do, you'll bring her to us. I can trust you to succeed in this task..right?”

Soundwave: *Nod*

*He then extracted the file from the computer keeping it in a data chip taking it with his tentacle*

Megatron: “Don’t disappoint me Soundwave, I expect great results from you.”

Soundwave: *Nods and walks out with the file*

Knockout: “I don't know what it is, but I have a feeling there's a lot more to him accepting this task than simply following Lord Megatron’s orders.”

Starscream: *Scoffs* “If it's something to get him riled up enough to nearly break my servo, then it must be…”

*Outside the command center in the halls of the ship, Soundwave pulled out the file as it projected Amber Light’s picture, and stared at it*

Soundwave: ………:D

{End of Episode 1}

~

And that concludes the beginning of “The Bird’s Prey.”

Hope this gave you what you wanted, and hopefully I can bring you more and continue this story. This was pretty fun to write and I’ll gladly write more.

I'm free to all feedback and constructive criticism as well.

Other than that, thanks for reading. 👍🏽

[sweetlikesummerhoney]

burn with me

human mafia boss! megatron x gender neutral reader

implieid mafia! au. possessive megatron. slight blood kink? its biting and marking buddy. penetrative sex.

the atmosphere feels heavy with every step you take, the dim lights overcasting shadows that smear across the wall. if you were to squint hard enough, you may even find strange splotches and red markings throughout the interior.

every person you pass gives you a once over, and a nod. their eyes take no more than a few seconds to glance over you before disappearing into the intricate detailing of the floor.

you can hear hushed voices as you pass, some whispering to each other about the current affairs of the higher ups, and others hoping that today wouldn't be filled with a river of bloodshed.

as you approach the doorway at the end of the hallway, you can hear the voices from beneath. megatron's low rasp is barely heard as you can hear starscream arguing with him.

you almost feel suffocated with the pure rage and frustration emitting from the room in front. you take a moment to stop and stand, ears listening in rapid attention.

"the military is cracking down on supply chains. my contacts may no longer be of assistance." starscream growls, and you can practically imagine him waving his slender hands around in exasperation.

"I have provided you with more than enough resources to proceed with these trades. or does your galavanting through the ranks not get you more than the scraps of the bottom of the barrel?"

his voice is rough, barking against the door as you feel the tension rise. you take a deep breath before giving two sharp knocks against the door. their voices immediately hush, and a gruff 'come in' is heard.

you heed no mind to the way starscream straightens at your presence, while megatron simply gives you a once over. his eyes linger on your frame appreciatively as he leans forward in his chair.

his eyes gleam ominously as a sharp smirk graces his face.

"ah, just in time." you take a moment to stride across the room, eyes roving across the messy desk full of maps and papers strewn across the surface. his ash tray is full of ash and stubbed cigars. not a good sign.

you can feel his eyes rove across you, the dark and deep red drawing you in as you return his gaze. you come to stand besides his chair, cocking your head at starscream.

he stiffens and clears his throat.

"none of our contacts have enough resources to continue fueling these little skirmishes. there have been far too many injured, and knockout has been chewing us out for all the work."

megatron rolls his eye as he leans back, one hand firmly grasping a glass filled with smooth ice and a beautiful amber color.

"that is his job."

you pipe up, heart hammering in your chest as you watch megatron chuckle to himself. starscream fiddles with his fingers as he speaks once again.

"we have been in contact with optimus and ratchet as of late. they have proposed something rather appealing in the moment." megatron's eyes narrow as he slams his glass onto the desk, and you watch as starscream tries not to jump out of his skin at the gesture.

"and what would that old rust bucket want?" starscream stutters out, flailing wildly to cool the heating anger.

"a ceasefire. this would allow us plenty of time to gain more contacts, resources, and recover. our morale is low and we're at risk to losing more than we gain continuing to fight."

just as megatron opened his mouth, you lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. the heat radiates off his body as he quiets for you to speak. you clear your throat and gently trace invisible lines into his shoulders.

he slowly relaxes again.

"that would be wise. there is no need to expand our territory at the moment. running ourselves into the ground and wearing thin would prove to be inefficient." megatron hums, watching as starscream waits eagerly for an answer.

"and how would this ceasefire... allow us to gain more control?" you drape yourself over his shoulders, feeling his hand creep to the back of your neck and gently squeezing it. his calloused hand sends shivers up your spine as you continue.

"as starscream stated, his connections in the military might be a bust. we can regain control through the redistribution of synth en. make it a bit easier to get, get people hooked."

you continue, feeling his grip slowly tighten.

"this would gain us an advantage, especially knowing that those on the other side won't be able to stop circulation completely. it would debilitate the autobots. they'll be too busy trying to track the sources and finding a solution towards the addiction and side effects."

you glance at starscream, feeling his gaze settle on the two of you. his lips are firmly pressed into a thin line as he shifts uncomfortably where he stands.

"shockwave can always find or manufactor more weapons through his company. we all know his extensive history in blackmarket connections and complicated technological advancements."

megatron nods slowly, his hair sweeping across his face as he leans forward.

"starscream." starscream jumps to attention.

"yes sir!"

"I will make my decision about the ceasefire no later than tomorrow." starscream rapidly nods his head as he shifts, a nervous smile on his face as he wrings his hands together.

"until then. get. out." starscream doesn't have to be told as he bolts out the door and slams it behind him.

his grasp on your neck slowly slides down to your jaw as he jerks you forward, giving him a good look at your face as he narrows his eyes.

"and here you are, batting for the other team."

"it is most logical to have a ceasefire. we are losing too much." megatron huffs,

"stop hanging out with shockwave. you're sounding too much like him."

"and if not shockwave, I'd have to accompany starscream, knockout and his strange experiments, or breakdown and his debauchery."

you can feel his fingertips digging into the sensitive flesh of your jaw as you grunt, giving a firm glare to megatron as he growls.

"you shall do no such thing." you easily allow him to manipulate you, bending to his whims as he settles you onto his lap, facing him. for once, you're taller than him.

red eyes pool into you as you shudder, subtly leaning into the heat radiating off his frame.

you purse plush lips as you pout.

"a ceasefire would lessen the work we have to do." you ghost your fingers across his neck and trailing down the fancy suit he's wearing.

"and would free up lots of time..." you flutter your eyes as you look up through your lashes, ghosting a hand over the bulge in his pants.

you press your palm against his bulge, feeling him twitch through the expensive fabric.

"wouldn't that be desirable?" "I know something you desire." he gently grinds against your hand, grasping your hips to press you closer.

his mouth presses against you, and you slightly grimace at the bitter taste of smoke and liquor invades your senses. he gives you no choice but to lean in as he guides his lips against yours.

heat pulses in your stomach as you press against him, feeling hard muscle flex beneath you as he guides you to grind against his clothed cock.

a string of saliva connects the two of you as you gasp for air, shuddering as his hands roam across your figure. ghosting over your lower back to appreciatively grope at your ass.

his hand finds purchase in your hair as he yanks, bearing your throat to his whims. you whimper and whine as you feel him suck marks into your skin, ghosting sharp teeth against sensitive skin. his tongue lavishes against your flesh, sucking harshly to mark.

you're not surprised by the way he bites into you, sinking into you like a predator consuming its prey. pain jolts across your neck as he nips and bites, drawing small pinpricks of blood. you mewl against him, squirming at the unpleasant sensation.

his arms pin you against him, forcing your figure close to his. you can feel your heart pounding in sync with his as his eyes darken.

red dots his lips as he eagerly licks up droplets of blood.

"on the desk." he lets go and you obediently splay yourself across the desk, paying no mind to the papers beneath you. if they were important, he would've gotten rid of them by now.

no traces.

you spread your legs as he pulls clothing from your form, eyes narrowing at unmarked skin before him. you hear the clunk of his belt as he draws himself from his underwear.

his cock is heavy and red, the head beading with precum that slowly slides down the mushroom head. it's long and thick, something you'll never quite get used to taking.

he settles against your plush thighs, grinding his cock into your core with fever. his grip is bruising as he mouths at your neck, grazing sharp teeth against you as he slowly presses into you.

his cock brushes against your entrance, slick and wet as he teases your entrance.

"this could be all yours." he grunts before withdrawing. he shoves his fingers into your face as he commands.

"suck." you obediently suck his digits into your mouth, gently sucking and swirling your tongue against his long fingers. you bob your head a bit, fluttering your eyelashes up at him as he sneers at you.

it takes no time for him to press himself knuckle deep into your entrance, smirking as he feels you pulse and tighten around his thick fingers.

his palm presses against your pelvis as he grinds and thrusts his fingers into your walls, curling his fingers in such a way that has you keening and arching your back.

he smirks as he removes his fingers, leaving you whining at the sudden loss. he shows you his hand, where his fingers and wrist is glistening in your slick.

"greedy thing." you watch as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, taking his sweet time to lap up your juices and suck his fingers free of your mess.

your core throbs at the sight, and you whine sadly, giving him big, watery eyes.

"please." you beg, whimpering as you wiggle your hips. megatron huffs before pressing against you.

his cock brushes against your entrance and finally, he slowly presses in. his thick head slowly pressed against your tightening walls as you tried to relax.

despite how many times you've taken him, it always seems that no amount of preparation would prepare you for him.

the two of you grunt in sync as your hips jolt at the sudden intrusion, followed by small grinding movements that slowly inched him closer to you.

his cock pulses against your walls as you mewl, back arching and walls clenching as his hips pressed flush against yours. you felt impossibly full as you clench against him, eyes fluttering as you pant.

megatron lifted your jaw, forcing half lidded, watery eyes to meet the burning, intense gaze of him.

his eyes are dark, like his soul. it reminds you of the corruption that lays deep in his soul, that even his soft side would still be jagged and guarded.

with his calloused, bruised fists or with his haunting schemes that would shatter any hope of survival. bruises and blood that trails behind him like a carpet, leading further into the murky darkness of his empire.

he is a king.

yet here he is, at your fingertips.

you utter his name in a winded fashion as his pace began to slowly quicken. each roll of his hips had you bracing against the desk, hands desperately clenching onto nothing as you squirmed.

he presses his chest against yours, fondly nipping and marking your skin as your stomach wound itself into tight knots. sensitive nipples rub against the soft fabric of his shirt as you jolt. he seems to know all too well the way to play your body like an instrument. you are but a puppet whom strings have been pulled.

your mouths meet in another intense kiss, and for once, he allows his hand to interlace with yours. his form presses against you, hiding you from view and carving into your very being.

he doesn't stop when you clench and keen, walls fluttering as you cum. your hips jerk away from his tight hold, trying desperately to escape the his battering pace. a deep growl reverberates in his chest.

"stay still." he growls, and you moan loudly at the way he seems to swell inside you. one final, deep thrust has the two of you pressed against each other, panting.

you squeeze his hand and he grunts, hips jerking against yours as he grinds into you.

his deep, red eyes bore into yours.

"now, about that ceasefire."

you roll your eyes and huff. only after he's fragged you into oblivion does he want to talk business.

[ireadwithmyears]

the art of experience: part 2 the lesson

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Commander Cody/fem reader

Previous | Next | Series Masterlist

Word count: 7K

Tags/warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) smut, dom/sub dynamics, male masturbation, light humiliation, one singular spank, fingering, piv sex, orgasm delay/denial, that’s not how the force works/inappropriate use of the force, brief cockwarming, aftercare

Summary: Cody teaches you and Obi-Wan that punishment and pleasure can sometimes go hand-in-hand

Authors note:Well, I haven’t officially participated in Kinktober, but considering it’s almost over, and this series is just beginning, this feels like a pretty solid way to end it off. Also, a little Halloween treat for you all. I hope it’s a good one🎃

“Well?”

Cody’s voice holds a note of expectation. The single syllable is offered up as a question you know in reality is closer to a demand for an explanation, not that you really find yourself the slightest bit equipped to piece one together

Not when he’s reaching across to touch you. Not when his fingers are skating along the curve of your ass and effortlessly gliding between your folds. Not when they sweep through to collect the arousal that’s gathered there, causing you to whimper as they just barely graze over your clit, and definitely not when you turn your head to watch as he guides them between Obi-Wan’s lips, patiently watching as the other man’s eyes flutter closed and he sucks languidly on the two digits.

“What happened?” Cody’s voice is a nudge, prompting you again, and your cheeks flush, eyes darting down to watch your hands still clenched tightly within the sheets.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you mumble, not knowing what else to say. “I-I didn’t mean to.”

“Hm.”

The noise is quiet, but filled with an underlying skepticism that makes your stomach churn. You’re still looking away, so you don’t see his hand retreat from Obi-Wan’s mouth. You don’t see the swift way in which it moves and pulls back, but you do feel when it lands—connecting against your ass in a quick, stinging spank.

You let out a surprised squeak, your eyes widening as you’re torn between indignation and enjoyment, finding strangely enough that you almost want for him to give you another.

Odd, you think. That’s definitely something to experiment with later.

“Was I asking for an apology, mesh’la?” he asks, taking your chin in his hand and forcing you to look up into stern, hardened, amber eyes.

“No,” you say slowly, biting your lip and swallowing hard. “But-but I still am, sir.”

“I’m sure you will be,” he muses, his voice seeming to lighten in tone which only ratchets up your nerves. “What are you sorry for, cyar’ika?” 

“F-for coming without your permission, sir,” you murmur, biting the inside of your cheek guiltily.

“Mm,” Cody hums in thought, and it takes all your control not to frustratedly point out that if Obi-Wan hadn’t been so determined—apparently to push you over the edge—then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. 

No, you scold yourself harshly. You don’t want to leave with one of their first impressions of you being that you act like a petulant child when things stop going your way. You’ve made your bed. You redirect your thoughts, trying to shake it off. Now put on your big-girl PJs and lie in it.

“Sit up.”

Cody’s voice is crisp, his look one of expectation as he looks down at you. “I want you on your knees.”

He’s left you with no room for hesitation, and you don’t want to leave him with any room to be further disappointed. So, despite your confusion at the swift redirect, you push yourself up on your elbows, tucking your knees beneath you and leaning back on your heels, looking up at him from the edge of the bed with a mix of nerves and curiosity.

“Sit straight,” he continues. “Hands behind your back.”

Silently you do as you’re told, still unsure but not having a reason to hesitate.

“It’s a shame,” Cody says conversationally. “I would have liked to have finished in your mouth. But I think you’ll have to show me that you’re deserving of that privilege.”

He reaches down, taking himself in hand. He’s still prominently hard, glistening from the efforts of your mouth. 

“This will have to do,” he says in a soft, disappointed sigh, his other hand lightly cupping one of your breasts before giving your nipple a soft tug, just enough to pinch, watching as it hardens between his fingers. A soft groan falls from his lips as he releases you, turning back to the attention of his firmly erect cock, his hand tightening around it as he strokes, movements quick and deliberate. His thumb occasionally sweeps over the tip, circling just enough to tease, causing his breath to stutter as his speed becomes more frantic.

Watching him work is mesmerizing, but you find—looking down with slight disappointment—that you wish it were your tongue and your mouth giving him what he craves instead. 

“Eyes up here, cyar’ika,” his voice is a slightly sharp command, and your eyes instinctively jump to look back up at him as he pumps himself, his movements growing vigorous and desperate.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he groans, his voice a quiet, pleased rumble. “Want to see the look on that pretty face when I come all over you.”

Seconds later, his wish is granted. His release coats your chest in a hot, white stream of liquid, causing your eyes to widen and your lips to part in a gasp as it makes contact. He strokes himself through his orgasm, his breathing labored and his eyes unfocused with lust as they remain locked on you, the mesmerizing way in which you shudder as he paints your breasts with his release, watching as it slowly trickles down towards your belly button, your nipples peeking out pink and stiff as he takes in the sight.

“Beautiful,” he breathes once he’s recovered himself enough to speak. “You’re to leave that there,” he says, a casual order that says he expects nothing more than complete obedience. 

You blush, looking down at yourself with a slight mix of humiliation at how messy you look and feel, with his release becoming sticky and cooling as it clings to your skin, but also something else. Knowing that you’re what he chose to look at as he surrendered to his pleasure makes you feel wanted—sexy and desirable in a way that you have rarely felt before.

“Yes, sir,” you say in a quiet murmur, resisting the urge to wrap your arms around yourself as you lightly shudder beneath his piercing gaze. It lingers for a moment before drifting, landing on Obi-Wan who’s been sitting quietly with his legs crossed behind you as he watches.

“Someone has been uncharacteristically patient,” Cody murmurs, his tone amused but also somewhat suspicious. 

Obi-Wan, who plays the part of the wise, patient Jedi Master so well all the time, is allowed to let go of that here and let pure instinct, desire, and want take over to manifest in whichever way feels natural to him in the moment. This patience that he’s displaying now, Cody can tell, is quite honest and sincere, though he’d be remiss not to suspect ulterior motives behind it.

“Trying to show off and act like a good boy for our guest, Obi-Wan?” Cody asks with a smirk, fingernails raking through the other man’s hair, lightly scratching against his scalp and feeling his head tilt, leaning into the touch in response.

“Quite possibly, sir,” he admits, barely stifling a smile as he looks up at Cody, his eyes mischievous but with pure underlying adoration beneath.

“Mm,” Cody considers, lightly taking his chin in his hand and tilting his head up for a quick peck against his lips. “At least he’s honest.”

“I was planning to have you on top,” Cody says moving back towards you, his hands softly coming to rest on your shoulders, “but I’d like to give your upper body a rest.” 

One of his hands drifts, lightly running through the remnants of his release that’s settled in between your breasts, and the expression on his face is sinful as he leans forward, pressing a teasing, barely there kiss to the corner of your mouth before giving you a gentle nudge, easing you down until you’re lying on your back. “Let’s put Obi-Wan to work for a bit, hm?” he asks, something soft playing on his lips as he looks between the two of you.

“Wouldn’t say no to that, sir,” you admit sheepishly, only realizing now that he’s guiding you to lie down that your shoulders and back are slightly stiff from where they’ve had to arch for a prolonged amount of time. His hands caress from your shoulders, slowly running down your arms as he gives your biceps a light squeeze, your eyes closing in response to the touch.

“Lift your hips for me, dearest,” Obi-Wan directs softly, and without thinking, without even opening your eyes with curiosity to watch what he’s doing, you do, and a second later feel a pillow slide beneath your raised hips, Obi-Wan’s hands gently coaxing them to settle back down on top.

“Comfortable?” he asks, and you let out a small, surprised noise as you feel his lips and the light, enticing scratch of his beard pressing against your hip, trailing along your stomach.

“Y-yeah,” you manage to respond with only a small hitch in your voice, but judging by the sound of his soft chuckle, feeling it rumble slightly against your skin, he’s evidently still noticed.

“This is still a punishment,” Cody reminds you, his voice chiding. “For both of you. Don’t think I didn’t notice how much you were pushing her to come, Obi-Wan.”

“I would never,” Obi-Wan protests, sounding both on the verge of laughter and indignantly scandalized even as he looks up and tries to maintain the perfectly innocent look on his face.

“Don’t add lying to your list of crimes,” Cody scolds, and for your part, you feel slightly vindicated, knowing that it wasn’t just in your head that Obi-Wan was deliberately pushing you.

That vindication is short-lived, especially after Cody‘s next words.

“Obi-Wan, you are allowed to come, but you,” Cody raises a sharp eyebrow at you, “are not.”

“How is that fair?” 

The complaint falls past your lips before you can even think about it, and you’re pushing yourself up on your elbows to pout at him. “You’re telling me that I’m the only one being punished for this even though you know that he participated in it?”

“I was wondering when I would get to see the brat in you.” 

To your annoyance, Cody sounds completely unfazed, even a tad bit triumphant, as he folds his arms across his chest. “I knew it was there, just hiding.”

He fixes you with a hard look, reaching out a hand to gently but firmly push you back down against the bed. 

“You don’t think this is a punishment for Obi-Wan, sweetheart?” he asks, and the look on his face tells you that the question was rhetorical. You bite your tongue to remain silent. “Well, let me tell you that Obi-Wan gets most of his enjoyment and pleasure from your enjoyment and pleasure.”

He leans forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his voice drops to a whisper. 

“Imagine how disappointing it’s going to feel for him when he gets to come, but is denied of being able to feel the way you tighten around him when you do, and the sounds you make because he’s making you come.”

You can’t help the way a small shiver runs through you, and your eyes instinctively widen. Well, when he puts it like that—and if what he’s saying is true, which you highly suspect it is just because of how intimately Cody is aware of his partner—it does sound like kind of a shitty deal, not that you’re ready to fully admit that, but you can except it.

“So, little one,” Cody‘s lips are at your throat, soft and gentle at first but quickly turning into a sharp bite at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “Still think he’s not being punished?”

“N-no, sir,” you say with a quick shake of your head, your voice sounding suspiciously like a squeak as he pulls back to look down at you, his thumb brushing over the mark that’s blossoming at your throat.

“Good.” He gives you a smile that is so warm it feels like sunlight physically caressing your skin. “And if you’re a very good girl,” he continues, his voice a low, husky murmur. “I may,” he pauses, allowing you to sit in anticipation as his lips pull into a smirk, “let you come on my cock. Is that understood, cyar?”

You murmur a soft agreement and he nods, satisfied as he moves back to give you and Obi-Wan space. 

“May I?” he asks softly, fingers gently stroking over your thigh, watching with keen interest as you shudder in response.

“Please,” you breathe, and that’s all the confirmation he needs. His fingers delicately trace a teasing circle around your folds but Obi-Wan, easily tempted by the wet trail he finds there, quickly parts your labia, letting out a soft, pleased sound as his fingers dip to gather your arousal, spreading it over you in teasing brushes until he’s satisfied.

He exhales a soft “oh” as a finger carefully breaches your entrance, his eyes intent as he watches it slowly push past the resistance it meets. “Still so tight,” he whispers, leaning forward to brush his tongue along the crease of your thigh just to watch you shiver and feel your walls clamp down around his finger in response.

“Not that I mind,” he continues, his lips quirked upward. “If I had it my way, I'd make you come on my fingers at least one more time.”

“Yeah, well, if you hadn’t been such a tease, m-maybe you would have gotten your way,” you snark, not truly bothered but enjoying the banter as you desperately try to buck your hips against his hand, seeking more than what he’s giving you.

“Oh my, someone is impatient,” Obi-Wan smirks. “Perhaps if you had exercised a little bit more control, you would have been able to handle it.”

He cuts off any remark you could have said in response to that by easing a second finger into you, his thumb curling slightly to tease your clit as he slowly stretches you out, making the only sound to fall from your lips a quiet moan.

“Do I need to find something more useful for both of your mouths to be doing?”

You both startle at the unimpressed tone in Cody‘s voice as he’s suddenly looming above you, one hand tangling in Obi-Wan’s hair and giving it a sharp tug in warning, his eyes displeased as he looks down at you.

“No, sir,” you rush to say, your cheeks heating.

“I’d be interested to see how you would accomplish that,” Obi-Wan muses curiously, fingers still diligently working you open for him as he looks up at the commander. “Considering the position we’re in.”

“Don’t push it,” Cody mutters darkly, leaning forward to nuzzle against Obi-Wan’s neck with lips and teeth, causing him to shudder. “You of all people should know how creative I can be.”

Cody steps back, sinking into an armchair that sits across from the bed as he casually spreads his legs, simply watching with interest. 

“Now get to it,” he orders, giving both of you a pointed look, “before I decide that neither of you deserve anything tonight.”

The “yes, sir,” he gets in response to that is both immediate and in unison, and he has to fight to keep his lips from turning upward into a wolfish grin as Obi-Wan settles between your legs.

“Reach down and take him in your hand,” Cody directs you as he observes, his hand resting on his thigh. “Good. Now, use him to tease your clit.”

You guide the head of his cock between your folds, slowly circling the firm, glistening tip around your clit. When you look up at him, Obi-Wan’s eyes are closed, his head tipped back as his lips part in a quiet, stammered breath. You wonder if this, both pleasure and denial at the same time is as tortuous for him as it is for you. You let out a soft “mm,” and Cody speaks again.

“Good girl,” he breathes. Is it your imagination, or has his voice dropped an octave? Either way, it makes you shudder, and his next words cause it to catch completely. “Now, use his cock to give it a few spanks for being such a naughty girl earlier.”

Your eyes go wide, and there’s a beat of hesitation as you feverishly work to process what he’s just said. Your cheeks are already on fire, and you wonder if he’s enjoying this. No, you know that he is, and one glance at him out of the corner of your eye shows you that your 

embarrassment might just be precisely why he’s enjoying it.

Then, just when he looks on the verge of getting to his feet, you blink, and rush to do as he says. You move your wrist so that Obi-Wan’s cock slaps against your clit in several quick, sharp spanks.

The result is instantaneous. 

The whimper that falls from your lips is both surprised and filled with a desperate need as your eyes go wide. Obi-Wan, his own breath stuttering, has a hand biting into the soft skin of your hip. The sensations are quick, intense jolts of pleasure that spike through your clit without any build up, leaving you only able to lie there and take each gasp and whimper as it hits you, which pleases Cody immensely as he watches your eyes lose focus.

You’re not sure if it’s the embarrassment of hearing the sounds you’re unable to stop yourself from making or the innate humiliation of being made to punish yourself by using Obi-Wan’s cock that causes your cheeks to burn. But regardless, you resist the urge to press your hands to your cheeks to shield them from their eyes when Cody finally nods to signal that you may stop.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody says, only speaking once your breathing has settled slightly and your eyes are closed. “You may begin.”

Obi-Wan, not needing much more encouragement than that, leans back slightly, smoothly guiding himself into position before he slowly, but in a controlled, powerful thrust, sheaths himself inside you, nuzzling his face against your neck and letting out a deep groan as he does.

“Beautiful girl,” he breathes, and his beard tickles against your skin, causing you to let out a small giggle that quickly dissolves into a soft moan as he pulls his hips back, every inch of him dragging through your walls before, just as patiently, just as eager to enjoy every inch of you constricting around him, he sinks back in, teasing both of you and basking in the quiet sounds of pleasure you make as he draws out the moment, continuing to punctuate each sound with a slow, controlled thrust.

You would think that feeling the innate stretch of him as he fills you would cease to shock you after the first few testing, languid thrusts, but it doesn’t. Not when his hips roll against you And he’s moaning against your ear, tongue tracing a lazy path along the shell just so he can feel your shiver. Not when his hips are pulling back and as he does, the pillow that bolsters your hips creating a perfect angle for him to drag against your G-spot. Not when his speed, inch by inch begins to build and increase, thrusts growing quick, short, and deep as he savors the feeling of how you hold onto him so perfectly.

“Look at you,” Obi-Wan breathes, leaning back, eyes transfixed by the way he disappears within you so beautifully after each thrust. His fingers delicately skim down your sides, settling at your hips as his eyes drag up your form, captivated as your chest heaves with uneven breaths. He reaches up a hand, running it from your stomach to your breast, cupping it gently and running his thumb along your hardened nipple, feeling you clench in response.

He leans in, his hand guiding your nipple to his mouth, tongue sweeping around it to tease before eagerly taking it between his lips, causing your back to arch and for you to let out a surprised, rather undignified squeak as he chuckles against you.

“I can still taste Cody on you,” he whispers, looking up at you as his tongue runs a slow trail along the underside of your breast. “Such a pretty mess.”

He drags his tongue between the valley of your breasts, making no effort to hide how much he’s enjoying tasting the commander on your skin, the rocking of his hips growing more insistent and demanding as your legs wrap around his waist, wriggling to meet each thrust as best as you can.

He begins to fuck you in quick, rough strokes that seem to be hitting every place inside you that you want, but for the sake of your dwindling control, you know that is the last thing that you need. And because he’s Obi-Wan Kenobi—because he knows the rules and is not going to break them—he is going to push you to the absolute edge of your limits as he dangerously walks the line between them, and his hand curiously dips between your legs.

Things feel hazy and disjointed as you teeter precariously on the edge, desperately trying to stave off your release without any help from Obi-Wan. You think you might make a noise in protest. He only shushes you with a soft kiss, his tongue, with a coaxing swipe, teasing its way past your parted lips as he moans into your mouth.

“Breathe,” he whispers against your skin, even as he grasps tightly to your hip so that he can drive himself into you with increased force. His thumb idly strokes along the hood of your clit, slow, predictable. But at this point, if your focus slips even for a second, it still might just be enough to tip you over the edge.

So, you listen. 

As Obi-Wan pounds into you and his rhythm becomes less controlled—as his head tips back and those blue eyes of his widen and become lost in pleasure, as barely restrained whimpers and moans fall from his lips—you breathe. Slow, deep and controlled, forcing your breaths to fake a calm that you do not feel. It’s all you can do to cling to them. They are the only things keeping you grounded in any semblance of reality as Obi-Wan pulls out and then in one swift movement buries himself inside you, hips continuing to twitch as stuttered noises fall from his lips and he releases, his cock pulsing as you feel him spill himself within your walls.

Miraculously, despite the fact that your walls are fluttering with temptation and expectant anticipation, you manage—with what feels like only a millimeter left of control—to stop your own release from following after his. The denial of it, going against all of your body’s instincts, urges, and wants, is about as disappointing as can be expected. But you are determined to persevere.

You let out a slow, cautious breath and slowly allow your eyes to open. 

Obi-Wan slowly, carefully eases himself out of you, both of you letting out simultaneous gasps as he does, his eyes fluttering shut. He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just above your brow, before easing his weight off of you, rolling onto his side and resting his head against your shoulder. You smile, contentedly rubbing your cheek against his hair as your eyes find Cody.

His countenance is pleased, the smile on his face warm as he observes you both, still in the afterglow of your activities. You also note, cheeky as your eyes drift downward, that it’s clear that he’s been enjoying the view, his hand loosely wrapped around his cock, which is once again standing firm and on display between his strong thighs. 

“When you’re ready,” he speaks quietly, his words directed towards you. “Come here, mesh’la.”

You nod, turning your attention back to Obi-Wan, your head dipping down to press several kisses against his forehead, his cheek, the tip of his nose which makes him smile fondly up at you, his eyes bright. 

“I’ll be alright,” he answers your unasked question with a small grin. “I’m quite looking forward to seeing this display.”

You smile, tilting your head to press one last chaste kiss to his lips before moving to the edge of the bed. You look back at him as you get up, and despite the way he’s smiling at you, despite the fact that you can feel his spend leaking down your thigh as you swing your legs over the side of the bed and get to your feet, there’s something in his eyes that states pretty damn clearly that he’s not wholly satisfied, even if he’d never admit it.

Hm, you think, maybe Cody was right. Maybe you’re not having been allowed to come had been just as much of a disappointment for him as it was for you.

You try to shake it off, but despite your best efforts, Obi-Wan’s wide, longing eyes follow you even as you walk away from him and settle yourself in Cody‘s lap, his arms guiding you around so that you’re sitting with your back pressed against his chest.

“What is it, lovely?” Cody asks, evidently picking up on your energy without you even saying a word.

“Obi-Wan looks... lonely,” you say quietly, troubled eyes darting to the Jedi Master who has shifted on the bed with his legs crossed, watching with curiosity. “I just don’t want him to feel left out,” you admit, looking down.

“I won’t be, sweet one,” Obi-Wan’s soft murmur cuts through your thoughts, and you tentatively look up to meet his gaze. “The Force allows me to still partake in the experience even if I am not an active participant. Besides,” the grin that pulls at the corners of his mouth is devilish, “even if I were just to sit back and enjoy the view, I would still find it just as gratifying. You both really are a beautiful sight to behold.”

“Oh,” you mutter, ducking your head as your cheeks heat. Despite the fact that minutes ago he had been buried inside you, knowing that the Force allows him to feel, in some sense, exactly the effect of what he’s doing to you, or what Cody might do to you, you can’t help but flush a little.

“You are a sweet thing,” Cody murmurs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you tightly to him, his lips against your neck trailing up towards your ear. “If he had been teasing me half as much as he had teased you, I don’t think I’d be so considerate,” he whispers, letting his teeth graze over your earlobe and causing you to jump slightly, letting out a small giggle.

“Because this pretty girl is so thoughtful,” Cody says, raising his voice slightly so that Obi-Wan can hear, “you are allowed to touch yourself, if you desire it. But you can’t come until she does, clear?”

“Crystal,” Obi-Wan grins, giving him a thumbs up.

Cody must send him some sharp look of rebuke that indicates he does not appreciate the breach of protocol at this time, and it’s Obi-Wan’s turn to blush, glancing down at the comforter. “I-I mean yes, sorry, sir.”

Cody hums, but quickly turns his attention back to you, satisfied that Obi-Wan will remain obedient for the time being. 

He can be good,” he murmurs, his voice low against your ear. “And you can be quite impatient.”

You follow his gaze downward to where your hips, of their own accord, have shamelessly begun to shift against him, seeking the firm press of his erection against you. You blush, and you swear you can feel your ears go pink. But really, Cody seems more amused than anything as his hands settle at your hips, taking control of your movements.

“Let’s fix that.”

Without pause, he’s lifting you up and, only giving you time to let out a surprised gasp as he swiftly but carefully eases you back down onto his cock, your sharp inhale turning into nothing but a soft, needy whine as the head stretches your entrance and pushes inside.

Once he’s settled inside you, and every inch of his cock is snuggly nestled within your walls, he doesn’t immediately begin to bounce you up and down on his length as you had anticipated he would. Instead, he remains still, letting you adjust to the size of him, his chin dropping to rest against your shoulder, eyes locked where the two of you are joined and letting out a low groan as he feels you spasm around him.

“Look at Obi-Wan,” he whispers, nipping at your shoulder. “Such a desperate boy, and it’s all for you, mesh’la.”

Your heavy-lidded eyes flutter open to find that Obi-Wan, leaning back against some pillows, is lazily stroking himself, already half hard. You have to wonder if Jedi have some sort of Force-given ability to have much quicker refractory periods than a standard human, considering how quickly Obi-Wan seems to have recovered, and for obvious reasons, this added benefit of being able to wield those powers isn’t openly discussed. Either way, you’re not complaining, because he makes for a mouthwatering sight.

His eyes are closed as he seems to be avidly tuned into sensations that are beyond both you or Cody’s comprehension, or, you think, are exactly the sensations that you and Cody are feeling at this moment.

Curious, you wonder, suddenly needing to test this theory. Keeping your eyes locked on Obi-Wan, you deliberately tighten your walls, constricting around Cody and hearing his stuttered breath in response and feeling the way the grip on your hips suddenly becomes bruising. 

Obi-Wan, at the same time, seems to have a full body shudder in reaction, his eyes going wide as he looks up at you, his hand momentarily going slack from where it had been previously lightly fondling his balls, a soft whimper falling from his lips.

“Oh, your thoughts positively sing upon the realization. Now isn’t that fun? 

But despite this, the desperation of your denied orgasm has not faded. In fact, the heated, firm stretch as Cody fills you with every inch of him, is making your mind become fuzzy. You’re only able to focus on how it feels to be so wonderfully and completely stuffed full with him inside you.

Your hips are moving with not much conscious thought to guide your actions and only a wild, untamed instinct as your need for release grows and he continues to hold completely still. You try to work yourself on him, tempting him with enticing, desperate little circles as you wiggle your hips in an effort to gain more, but his control appears to have no less than an iron grip, despite the fact that his eyes are blissfully closing.

An arm snakes around your waist, pulling you back so that you’re pressed flush against him, no longer able to move as your hips are pinned. 

“No squirming, sweetheart,” he scolds, giving you a slight squeeze, just enough to show you that you’re not going anywhere. “You’ve already come without permission. So now you don’t get to come the way that you want. You’re going to come exactly in the way that I want you to, and right now, I want you to come for me just like this.”

Your eyes widen, and it’s embarrassing the way you have to physically bite back the impulse to actually let out a whine. But he’s still going to let you come, you remind yourself. You just can’t imagine how you’re supposed to get there when he’s refusing to let you move. As if in answer to your question, a hand drifts between your legs, idly stroking along your thigh, before calloused fingers are lightly pressing against your clit, drawing slow, small circles that cause you to whimper before you can even register the noise.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody says, taking you off-guard. “If I lift her just a little bit, would you be able to hold her there?”

Obi-Wan must give some sign of ascent, and you’re still frantically trying to piece together what the kriff he’s trying to accomplish when Cody’s hands are back on your hips, pulling you up slightly and creating a brief white-hot flicker of friction that you’ve been craving before he pauses, letting go of one of your hips but incredibly and to your disappointment, you don’t slide back down onto him.

Instead, your body is seized with the strange feeling of being held despite the fact that there’s nothing visibly there to hold you up. You’re suspended there but miraculously feel somewhat cradled, allowing you to rid yourself of the need for your muscles to tense up or fight against it.

“Perfect,” Cody’s voice is a soft rumble, tight with anticipation. “That’s exactly how I want you.”

With that, one of his hands is returning to your hip, though you quickly realize it’s more for him to hold onto than to hold yourself up, and with a slow, controlled lift of his hips, he’s gently thrusting up into you, letting out a low moan.

His pace is both sensual and unhurried as he rhythmically continues to roll his hips against you, allowing every slow, deep thrust to let you feel each press of his pelvis against your ass. The flush of his heat, the drag of his cock as Cody takes full advantage of this angle, lets his hips buck up into you and stroke places hidden deep inside. The build that stirs within the pit of your stomach is slow as it creeps up on you, but is nonetheless just as tantalizing and just as intense, if not more.

“Sir,” you cry out, and Cody chuckles, hearing the note of desperation that rings clear in your voice.

“What is it, cyar,” he murmurs, his voice teasing. 

“I, ooh,” you cut off your own words with a gasp-moan at Cody’s next thrust, sharper and more intense as the head of his cock nudges against somewhere that makes your toes curl and your mind go blank.

“Can’t use your words already?” Cody tsk’s, though he doesn’t sound too disapproving of that fact. “Poor girl. What am I going to do with you?”

He smirks, answering his own question as his hand runs a teasing path down your stomach, causing you to squirm in place before his fingers dip lower, returning to your clit.

“Isn’t this pretty?” he muses, as two fingers press against the hardened bundle and roughly begin to circle against it, no longer coaxing, but commanding every ounce of your pleasure as he continues to thrust, his pace steady. 

You moan helplessly, your hips instinctively bucking against his hand as he plays with your clit. Cody lets out a growl, the pleased sound reverberating in his chest as his other hand moves to tighten its grip on your hip, keeping you still and as he wants you.

“You gonna come, sweetheart?” Cody asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer, giving your clit a slight flick with his fingers just to feel your walls twitch.

“Yes,” you cry out, your voice coming out in a high, unrestrained whimper. “Please, sir, please.”

“Already begging, and I didn’t even have to ask.” Cody’s tone is amused. “Needy little thing.”

Your cheeks burn, but at this point, you’re too far gone and too unashamed to even register it. 

“Since you’ve been good,” Cody begins, deliberately dragging out his words as he pretends to consider, circling your clit with skilled fingers. “And since you beg so nicely.”

He pauses, taking a moment to enjoy the next rock of his hips as he thrusts deeply up into you, holding himself there as his fingers continue to stroke. 

“Come for me,” he whispers, voice rough against your ear as he fills you completely. “Be a good girl and come all over my cock.”

Well, you certainly don’t need much more encouragement than that. 

Letting out a sound that could be classified as either a whine of relief or a scream, your back arches, your stomach muscles going tense as his words cause the dam to immediately shatter.

The pleasure that pulses through you is white hot, causing your legs to shake and your ears to start ringing. Cody is so deep, his cock persistent as it firmly presses against a spot within you that has you seeing stars that dance behind your tightly closed eyelids.

It feels endless and all encompassing, and Cody only seems to drag it out when he resumes his thrusts, his speed becoming rough and sharp as he repeatedly buries himself deep within your walls, his own release imminent.

When he comes it’s with a low, satisfied groan, burying his face against your neck as his cock spasms, feeling the warmth of his seed as it fills you.

If you could bring yourself to open your eyes, you would find that Obi-Wan has thrown his head back, his eyes still closed and his lips parted as Cody’s pleasure combining with your own and sweeping through the Force like a tidal wave have seemed to completely do him in. You hear his whimper though and the sounds he makes as he’s tipped over the edge and follows you both into this suspended world of pleasure when he releases.

Obi-Wan, still managing to hold on to some impeccable sense of control, slowly lets you sink back down, fully lowering you onto Cody’s cock, causing a broken whimper to fall from your lips as you do. Cody’s arms are around you, and when you eventually manage to come back to yourself, they are warm and secure.

Cody’s movements are careful as he allows himself to slip from you, though somewhere in the back of your mind, a small noise of protest still manages to slip past your lips anyway. He shushes you, dipping slightly to press a slow, almost reverent kiss to your forehead as he scoops you up into his arms and carries you back to the bed.

He doesn’t even set you down before Obi-Wan’s arms reach for you, pulling you against his chest as you curl up against him and Cody smiles, fingers running through the Jedi’s hair as he looks down at the two of you.

“I’ll be right back,” he says softly, leaning forward to brush his lips first with Obi-Wan’s and then with yours, slow and unhurried. “Just need to get something to clean both of you up a little, okay?”

You both manage to mumble somewhat coherent responses, because Cody’s quiet footsteps retreat, and a moment later, there’s a sound of water running from the attached fresher.

“You did beautifully,” Obi-Wan breathes, nuzzling against your hair as he holds you close. 

“So did you,” you murmur, voice slightly muffled against his chest as you beam up at him, cheeks still glowing softly.

He looks down at you, and both his smile and his eyes are bright. You both exchange satisfied grins, Obi-Wan leaning forward to press a kiss against the tip of your nose. His beard tickles slightly, causing you to let out a quiet snort, your cheeks immediately heating, then both of you simultaneously fall into soft laughter until Cody returns.

“I do hope you’re not embarrassing our guest, Obi-Wan,” Cody teases, re-entering the room and taking in your flushed cheeks. “Considering we actually want her to come back.”

Your heart warms a little, knowing that they want this to be more than a one time thing, because in the back of your mind, this whole time, no matter how confident you became, you had wondered if you hadn’t lived up to their expectations. But sensing both of them now, you find that it’s easy to dismiss your fears as unfounded.

You allow yourself to go boneless, limp, and relaxed as Cody sits on the edge of the bed gently running a damp, warm washcloth over your chest and stomach, eyes closed as he cleans you up.

You flinch a little, and your leg instinctively moves to kick out when he runs the cloth closer to the apex of your thighs. Cody hums a quiet apology, movements gentling further, eyes intent as they observe your face for any continued sign of discomfort. After a moment, your eyes flutter closed once more.

Cody repeats this process with a clean cloth retrieved for Obi-Wan. Their voices are quiet and familiar, as if this is a routine they’re well acquainted with.

Despite the sheen of sweat that has settled on your skin, you find that you’ve begun to tremble, adrenaline leaving you feeling chilled. Cody is so warm as he crawls in on your other side, chest pressing flush against your back as he tugs a thick comforter over the three of you, arm settling around both you and Obi-Wan.

You don’t mean to, really, you don’t. But they’re so warm, and they’re so gentle, and you’re just so nicely sandwiched between the two of them. Obi-Wan’s fingers are so soothing as they stroke through your hair, and Cody is leaving soft, scattered kisses against the back of your neck and shoulder and it just...happens.

You’re asleep before you even have the sense to tell them that you’re tired. 

Neither of them mind a bit. 

“So.” Cody’s voice is low and quiet as he looks up at Obi-Wan, still stroking your hair in the dim light. “How do you think that went?”

Obi-Wan tilts his head, his expression thoughtful for a moment before his eyes turn soft, looking up at Cody with big blues that have a 100% guarantee of making him melt every single time.

“Can we keep her?” Obi-Wan asks, and it’s adorable the way his arms tighten around you, his voice turning pleading and hopeful, as if there was ever a chance that Cody would say no.

Cody‘s head falls back, and he lets out a low chuckle that rumbles through his chest, causing you to stir slightly. He stills, watching you intently for any further signs of waking, but you only let out a quiet sigh, nuzzling your cheek against Obi Wan‘s chest as you sleep on.

“Well, if the lady is agreeable.” Cody tilts his head, fingers idly reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair that’s falling into your eyes. “If the lady is agreeable,” he murmurs again, carefully leaning across you to press a kiss to the top of Obi-Wan‘s head, his eyes warm and fond.

“Then I would say that I’d like that very much.”

•if you enjoyed this, please consider dropping me a reblogg of this fic. It would be very much appreciated. Thank you💞

[skylarkking]

"One in the Same"

A Blitzwing x Mech!Reader Fanfic

Word Count: 2k+

Prologue: Creation

“Percy, are you sure this is a good idea?” Wheeljack asked as his fellow scientist tapped away at one of the workstations. “I mean, wouldn't this be safer if we used a blank protoform?”

“The number of blank protoforms are dwindling rapidly.” Perceptor said. “To use one in this experiment would risk losing it. The cadaver Ultra Magnus has provided us will do.”

Wheeljack turned to look at the cadaver in question, an unassuming looking bot with a strangely peaceful face as his form floated in the amber fluid filled test tube. His optics were closed as if he were in stasis, when in actuality, his spark was snuffed. Attached to his back like great wings were hundreds of cables, sensors, and wires, giving him an extremely alien look. 

“Who was he anyway?” Wheeljack asked.

“No one knows,” Perceptor said. “His frame was found lying in an alleyway. No identifying marks or even a serial number. A no one.”

“Weird.” Wheeljack said. 

“It is indeed unusual. But let's not lose focus.” The pair of bots retreated away from the test tube and into a sort of safe room, Perceptor entering a few equations into the console and grabbing ahold a lever. “Initiating data transfer and power sequence.” 

The scientist pulled the lever, and a shock of electricity ran through the cables attached to the cadaver's frame. His frame jolted and kicked wildly as it thrashed about, bubbles forming within the amber liquid with each convulsion. His chassis heaved as helicopter blades erupted from the protoform along with other attributes associated with flyers. His chassis heaved as if a gasp were taken, a spark igniting within the core. My spark. 

Alarms blared, and lights flashed all around, my optics snapping open as I tried to scream. The sound would be muffled by the fluid, and there were only two things I felt at that moment. Pain, and fear.

“SHUT IT DOWN!” I heard a voice shout, terrifying me further as I writhed in the tube, my razor-sharp digits clawing at the glass before curling into a fist and smashing into it. Cracks formed in the glass with each strike until it shattered, the shards and liquid pouring out of the tube and onto the pale metallic floor along with my frame.

“CODE RED IN LAB! LOCK EVERYTHING DOWN!” Wheeljack cried out. My optics darted to the scientists, and I shrieked in fear as they ran to pin me down. I managed to roll out of the way and rip the cables and sensors off of me, my frame shakily rising and making a run for it. 

Doors began to close, and the alarms blared even louder than before. Bots with weapons swarmed the halls, chasing me as I ran. I let out a shrieking whir when one of the halls I was going to run through was blocked by one of the bots. My pedes skidded to a halt, and I tried to go back, but that way was also blocked.

I was trapped.

“Perceptor. Wheeljack. We have it cornered.” One of the bots said as he aimed a weapon at me.

I screamed and instinctively slashed my claw like digits at the bot. The claws dug deep enough to cause him to leak trails of energon, and the bot hissed in pain. This caused him to drop his weapon and back off. I grabbed it and shakily pointed it at him, more bots flooding the halls with weapons drawn.

“He's got a blaster!” One of the guards yelled. In a panic, I pointed it between the two groups of armed bots, the blades on my back shaking and trembling with terror. 

“What's all the noise?” A grouchy sounding voice yelled, catching my attention. My optics flicked to the source, and I saw a cranky looking medic with a white and red paint job shoving his way past the armed bots.

“Ratchet, stay back.” One of the bots said. “It's dangerous!” 

The medic glanced over to me and saw I was absolutely terrified. On occasion, my optics would flick between violet, orange, and blue coloration. I was leaking energon and heavily venting as I struggled to focus on the multitude of bots.

“Hey kid.” Ratchet said softly, my optics darting to him with fear. “You're scared, aren't you?”

“Ratchet don't try to reason with it.” The bot said. “It attacked one of us.”

“S…. Scared.” I managed to say, my voice cracking and fritzing with static.

“I would be too.” Ratchet said calmly. “Can you give me the blaster?” 

“NO!” I panicked as I pointed it to the other armed bots. “No no!”

“Lower your weapons.” Ratchet ordered the bots.

“Are you crazy?!” One of them snapped.

“I said lower them dammit! He's scared enough as it is!” One by one, the armed bots lowered their weapons, Ratchet holding out his servo to me. “Give me the blaster kid.”

“Wh… why?” I asked.

“You're hurt and scared. I want to help you. But first you have to give me the blaster.” 

My optics glanced at the other bots, and with slow and calculated steps, I approached the medic and handed him the blaster. Ratchet took it and handed it to the injured bot before returning his attention to me.

Ratchet motioned for me to take a seat, and hesitantly, I did. I felt fatigue wash over me while the medic worked on welding my injuries, the slight sting and hot hiss of metal filling my senses, and seeming to drown out all other sounds.

“There.” Ratchet said as he inspected his work. “Good as new.”

“Ratchet!” Wheeljack called as he and Perceptor came running through the group of bots. I immediately stood and shielded the medic from the two scientists, my optics switching to violet as I growled like an angry beast at them.

“Hey hey its okay.” Ratchet said. “they're friends.”

“f… friends?” I questioned, the color of my optics flicking back to blue.

“Yeah kid. Their friends.” I lowered my guard and shrunk back behind the medic like a scared sparkling. Due to my height, the medic shielded me quite well from view. 

“Perceptor!” The bot I had injured snapped at the scientist. “You and Wheeljack need to terminate that thing! It could have killed me!”

“Sir, it only scratched you a little.” Another bot commented. “I mean, it already stopped leaking.”

“Shut it!” The bot snapped. “It had my blaster in its servos and was going to kill us!”

“Because you cornered him with weapons drawn!” Ratchet argued. 

“S-scared.” I whispered, and I shrank even further behind Ratchet. Ratchet turned and placed a protective but gentle servo on my back in a silent form of reassurance. 

“The subject currently has the mental maturity of a sparkling.” Perceptor said. “It was logical for it to react the way it did.”

“Logical? You call clawing at me and grabbing my blaster logical?!” The bot argued.

“Loud!” I whimpered as I covered my audials and vented rapidly.

“Hey hey hey its okay.” Ratchet said softly as he tried to calm me down. 

“Ratchet, do you think you can get the subject back to the lab?” Perceptor asked. “We will take care of this.”

“Yeah, sure.” Ratchet said. The medic motioned for me to follow, and I anxiously did, the group of bots parting and allowing us to pass. I could feel their optics fixate onto me, and my own flicked to orange as intrusive and impulsive thoughts raged around. But I didn't do any of them despite wanting to so badly. 

We eventually returned to the lab where maintenance drones were cleaning up the mess I had made, my orange optics landing on a shard of glass that looked a lot like a dagger.

I giggled and went to reach for it when Ratchet slapped my servo away, snapping me out of my Mania and back to a Lucid state.

“Don't touch that kid.” Ratchet said. “It could hurt you.” 

“Sorry.” I meekly apologized. Ratchet sighed and motioned for me to sit on an examination table, to which I curiously complied. 

“Kid, I'm going to run diagnostics on you, okay? It will feel weird, but it will help me help you.” Ratchet said as he pulled out a diagnostic cable from his toolkit. 

“No thank you!” I whimpered when I saw the probe.

“Hey hey its okay.” Ratchet said. “It's not sharp, see?” He gently let me touch the tip of the probe, and, as he said, it was dull just like an audio jack. “This will click into place right here.” Ratchet demonstrated the probe by inserting it in a port on the side of his helm. “See? It doesn't hurt at all.” He unplugged the cable and gave me a small smile. “Will you let me run the diagnostic now that you know it won't hurt?”

I hesitated a moment but nodded meekly. Ratchet inserted the probe into the side of my helm, and to me, it tickled. I giggled a little before freezing up when I saw the two scientists re-enter the lab with a tall, bulky blue mech weilding a massive warhammer. I made anxious whining noises, and my optics flicked between the scientists and the new bot.

“Whatcha doing there, Ratch?” Wheeljack asked.

“Running a diagnostic on him.” Ratchet said before turning his attention to me. “Okay, we're all done. I'm gonna take the probe out now.” I nodded and allowed the medic to disconnect the diagnostic probe. The sensation of it being pulled out was less that savory. “Good job, kid.” Ratchet said. 

“Ratchet.” The new mech said, his voice mildly frightening me. Ratchet turned around and finally noticed, his own frame stiffening a little.

The sight of him being distressed triggered my Wrath state. My optics flicked to Violet, and I hopped off the examination table with servos balled into fists that were ready to defend the medic.

“Kid it's okay.” Ratchet said calmly, snapping me right out of my Wrath. “That's just Ultra Magnus. He won't hurt anyone.” I glanced at the Magnus and then back at Ratchet before lowering my fists. Ratchet ushered me to a spot and was quietly talking to me like a sire to a sparkling while the trio watched with interest.

“Perceptor. Wheeljack.” The Magnus said. “What exactly is this?” The pair of scientists looked at each other, clearly not sure what to say.

“We… don't know.” Wheeljack admitted. “We were attempting the conversion project on a cadaver and BAM! All Pits broke loose.”

“By all calculations, the cadaver should have been converted without igniting a spark.” Perceptor added. “Yet somehow one did.”

“It's clearly unstable.” Wheeljack said. “I mean, it attacked the guard captain, uh, what's his face?”

“Sunstreaker?” Perceptor said.

“Ah scrud I don't know.” Wheeljack shrugged. “Regardless, the subject has shown to be unstable mentally.”

The groups attention was drawn back to Ratchet when they heard a quiet yawn leave me, the trio watching as I rubbed my optics like a sleepy sparkling. 

“Tired kid?” Ratchet asked, to which I nodded. “Yeah I bet. You had a huge first day of being online. Anyone would be tuckered out.” 

“Ratchet, a word, please.” Ultra Magnus said.

“Wait here, I'll be right back.” The medic said. I nodded and leaned into the wall before slowly dozing off while Ratchet and the others huddled together. 

“Ratchet, what did your diagnostics say?” Perceptor asked.

“Poor kid essentially has 3 states of mind that are connected to 3 forms.” Ratchet said. “Explosive anger is connected to his ground mode, intense Mania connected to his flight mode, and Lucid is connected with his bot mode.”

“3 forms in one frame? That's not natural or normal.” Wheeljack said.

“Can these states of mind be controlled?” Ultra Magnus asked.

“Not really. They are highly volatile and can switch at a moments notice.” The medic explained. 

“Then… wouldn't it be merciful if we-”

“Don't you fragging say what I think you're going to say.” Ratchet growled. “I won't let anyone deactivate him.”

“Ratchet, he's too dangerous.” Perceptor argued.

“He's a scared young bot.” Ratchet huffed. “He's essentially a sparkling right now, a child.” Ratchet looked up at Ultra Magnus with almost a pleading gaze. “Sir, please. Let me work with him. He deserves a chance at life like anyone else.”

“Then he will be your responsibility.” Ultra Magnus said. “But if he attacks anyone again, he will be deactivated.”

“Yes sir.”

--------

A/N so usually I post this stuff on Wattpad but I figured this could be a Tumblr exclusive or something. Idk man.

Next chapter: Click Here

[omnomnomdomcaps]

Upstream - Remastered - Pt. II

Finally reposting here, featuring the work of Bubblybuns, who you can find on JFF.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Chapter Two: The Fall

“So, anything new on the rumor from State?” Vanessa asked, a hint of nervousness under her voice. 

“Nothing,” Cassie shrugged, “some frat boy who used to go here thought he saw you, didn’t give a lot of details, admitted he was drunk when he did.”

“And he stopped talking about it?”

“V, it’s been three weeks. It’s over. Nothing to worry about.”

Vanessa exhaled. “Okay, thanks.”

“You okay, V?” Amber chimed in. 

“I’m… I’m fine. Just been weird. Feels like someone’s trying to s-, sab-, ugh, what’s the word?”

“Sabotage you?” Cassie offered.

“Yeah… yeah, that’s it,” Vanessa nodded, rubbing her tired head. 

“The wannabes are always trying to take down the queen!” Amber declared. 

“I’ll look into it,” Cassie said softly, “and if we find anyone, we’ll get ‘em.”

“Okay, cool,” Vanessa sighed, “now, ummm, could you guys give me a bit of privacy? Sorry.” 

The two other girls gave slight looks of confusion at the request, but away they went down the hallway. Vanessa, meanwhile, slid into the nearby bathroom, checked and double-checked that no one else was in it, and finally slid down her jean shorts to examine herself in the mirror.

Her pullup was wet. She couldn’t recall when she had used it, - during history class, during math class, while talking to her friends, or all of the above - but from the looks of it it was on the verge of leaking now. It was her third pair since morning, and the school day wasn’t even over. 

The girl sighed. These things had been such a good failsafe early on. They spared her from embarrassment when she felt the urge to go come on suddenly during an important test, or when a small leak came out during a stressful moment. As her classes seemed to ratchet up in difficulty, and her paranoid sense that something was wrong grew, they gave her at least one thing she didn’t have to worry about. 

Lately, though, she was having far more misses than makes, and the frequency and size of her accidents was clearly becoming too much for the thin garments. Trying to use the bathroom preemptively did little to help, as the girl was struggling to go on cue, and it seemed the pullups were always damp - at least - by the time she slid her pants down. A few had leaked already, and the fact that she was losing track of when she was wetting them in the first place was especially concerning. 

Vanessa slipped into one of the stalls and changed herself into the last pullup in her backpack. She needed only to get through one more class and a short bus ride before she would be home, and the trainer proved to be enough for that duration… barely.

The girl knew what was coming when she sat down at the dinner table that evening. Her mother never had let up her bizarre behavior, pelting Vanessa with patronizing sweet-talk ever since the day of the college tour. More recently, she had bought a pack of thick diapers adorned with juvenile designs, and had begun insisting repeatedly that the girl wear them, ‘just in case’. And now, Vanessa was running out of pullups and excuses. 

“Fine, mom. Fine,” she finally acquiesced, “I’ll try them.”

Try them Vanessa did, powdering and padding herself before she went to bed. And when she woke up soaked and sagging - no dream required - she knew it was time for their daytime debut. 

The girl changed out of her nighttime clothes and put on a fresh diaper before turning to her wardrobe to find something that would suit it. Shorts seemed to make it completely obvious, and jeans didn’t fit at all. To make matters worse, all of her longer skirts and dresses were in the wash or at the dry cleaners, victims of leaking pullups, leaving the girl with limited options. 

“Oh, no...”

Vanessa did her best to fix her pleated skirt over her diaper. Eventually, she managed to cover up the crinkling plastic, but only barely, and she knew that the slightest bit of carelessness could spell utter humiliation. 

The girl clenched the bottom of the skirt with her hands through most of the morning, walking awkwardly through the halls and trying to ward off anyone she saw staring with her patented mean glares. For her classes, she tried to sit as far back as she could, striking back-row seats in physics and history, but only a spot in the middle section in English - where she was so consumed with keeping herself covered up that she lost track completely of what the teacher was saying. 

In math class, her last of the day, the girl secured a spot in the fourth of five rows, and sat down as slowly as she could to avoid making any crinkling noise. She shuffled obsessively in her seat as the teacher began handing out the last week’s tests, but found her attention turning quickly to the pile of papers tossed in front of her. 

Forty-three. 

In her entire academic life, Vanessa had never received such a low score. It was one thing for her grades to slip as they had been doing throughout the year so far - something she chalked up to stress and senioritis. But this was on a far different level - this could prevent her from graduating on time altogether. Vanessa gulped nervously, and then leaned forward to better examine the result. 

Leaning forward, as it turned out, was a terrible mistake. 

The girl was still trying to make sense of the first page of the test when she heard a snickering behind her. As it dawned on her what the noise meant, her face went briefly pale and her head turned up slowly. 

Then, gathering up a burst of energy, Vanessa swerved her head around and gave the meanest glare she could to the boy seated behind her. Quickly, he stopped laughing and softly put both hands up as he turned from her gaze. 

With that momentarily under control, Vanessa turned once again to the other crisis of the day, trying her hardest to make sense of what went wrong on her test. She had hoped there had been a mistake in grading, or at least some sort of simple misunderstanding on her part that she could point to as cause for the result, but no. 

For page after page, the girl was left completely baffled by what had been asked, unable to make any sense at all of what she should have put down in the answers, or what she did - even when it was marked correct. Frustrated, she shoved the test into her backpack and tried her best to focus on the rest of the class, though the vast majority of it flew over her head. 

When the bell finally rang, Vanessa knew there was one more thing she needed to do. Patiently, she waited in her seat for the other students to pack their bags and get up, making special note of the boy who sat behind her. When he rose, she followed, tailing him until he was out in the hallway, where she finally grabbed his shoulder to confront him. 

“Hey,” she said harshly, sticking a finger against the boy’s chest, “I don’t know what you thought you saw back there, but if you say a word, I will ruin you. I will fucking ruin you. Got that?” 

“Yeah, yeah…” the boy mumbled, trying to turn away. He was a head taller than Vanessa, and he knew her secret now, but still her reputation had a way of making people nervous.  

“I said, got that!?” Vanessa’s voice was even angrier now, her face a bright red. 

“Got it.” The boy said timidly, again making a surrendering motion with his hands before backing away.

“Good.” Vanessa exhaled and lowered her hands back down to her skirt, where she would hold them tightly until the end of her bus ride home. 

That evening, Vanessa did some shopping, buying as many long skirts and loose-fitting dresses as she could find, desperate to avoid another incident like the one in math class.

For the next several weeks, the girl fell into an uneasy rhythm. Classes and homework continued to be a struggle, but at least she felt she could focus on them rather than her personal troubles. She used every tool at her disposal to try to get by, from paying off school nerds to do her homework for her (with kisses - they really were a pathetic bunch) to cheating off classmates when time came to take tests. And each day, she would return from school in a sopping wet diaper, desperately in need of a change. It was embarrassing, certainly, but at least it meant she wouldn’t have to worry about making it to the bathroom - well, most of the time. 

It was during a history test in the middle of October that a sharp cramp suddenly struck Vanessa, and the girl recoiled, pressing a hand against her uncomfortable stomach. With barely over ten minutes remaining in the class period, she held on hope for some time that she might be able to wait it out, but the need to go was growing faster than she had ever felt it. With beads of sweat forming on her forehead, finally, she decided to make a run. 

“Sorry, it’s an e- gotta go!” She blurted towards her confused teacher, before shooting down the hallways. With the rest of the students mostly in their classrooms, Vanessa ran as quickly as her long skirt allowed, desperately trying to fight off the growing pressure inside her. 

She made it to the bathroom and flung it open, just as a powerful new cramp arrived. 

Vanessa froze in place. In front of her was another girl, who had just finished washing her hands, and whose eyes had turned towards the noise of the door being thrown open. And inside of her… it was too late. As much as she tried not to push, it was coming out, filling the seat of her diaper as she just stood there, momentarily dumbfounded.

She needed to act fast. 

“What are you looking at!?” she yelled, with as much authority as she could, and the other girl turned her head away. 

Vanessa gulped and took a few steps quietly sideways towards the nearest stall, before sliding in and closing the door. Once inside, she waited to hear the other girl leave before breathing a sigh of relief and removing her skirt.

Vanessa sat on the toilet seat with her head in her hands. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing there - her full diaper had already taken care of all her business - and she wondered if it was even worth having gone there at all. After all, the girl she just ran into didn’t seem to notice what was happening right in front of her, and her diaper was equipped to handle the accident. Maybe, she wondered, this was just another case of an unnecessary distraction. 

She sighed. There were only a few weeks left until the end of the midterm season and the school’s traditional fall break. She was close, she assured herself. She would make it there, and then she could deal with whatever was happening to her. 

With a new goal in mind, Vanessa returned to her history class, gathered her things, and skipped math, taking the opportunity to recuperate - and more importantly, to change into a clean diaper. 

The next few days wore on slowly. Vanessa’s classes, it seemed, had gone from hard to impossible, and the girl could scarcely understand a word her teachers said. Midterm season was in swing, and peering at others’ answers seemed to be her only way of earning any points at all. 

A physics test early the next week proved particularly brutal, as it seemed that even looking at her classmates’ papers gave Vanessa no idea of what answers to write. Every symbol looked foreign, and every question read like gibberish. 

Painfully bored, the girl stared out of the classroom window and towards a busy playground in front of the neighboring elementary school. It looked… pleasant, peaceful, and exactly like where Vanessa wanted to be. Longingly, she sighed. 

At lunch, she gave in to her temptation, sneaking from the high school campus and onto the elementary one. The children were all inside, giving her the entire playground to herself. For the first time in weeks, she felt at ease. 

Vanessa slid on the slide, swung on the swing, and finally made her way to the jungle gym, her favorite of them all. There, she climbed and swung and jumped and flipped, while the crisp autumn air hugged her skin. 

But as she was hanging upside-down on her knees from the monkey bars, with her skirt flipped nearly over her head, Vanessa caught sight of what looked to be a first grade class that had just made their way out for recess. And as she looked around at the shocked faces of the students and teachers, the girl knew she had done something very, very wrong. 

They saw.

Panic began to set in, and the girl dropped to the playground turf below, landing on her hands before scrambling back up to her feet and fixing her skirt. Breathing heavily as her situation set in, she gave a nervous look around before breaking for her high school.

Vanessa ran as quickly as she could, nearly tripping over herself several times along the way, but she made it to the entrance intact. Then, taking no time to recover, she jolted down the hallways, desperately pushing several students out of her way as she tried awkwardly to maintain both her speed and dignity.

She finally did trip, landing on her knees only a few feet in front of her friends, but she got up almost instantly, brushing dirt and off of her skirt as she launched into a nervous ramble:

“I think they mighta catched me!” she blurted. 

“They… what?” Cassie raised an eyebrow. 

“They catched me!” Vanessa repeated, frustrated that her friend wasn’t hearing her. “Or they mighta. I don’t know I was playing at the playground and I know I shouldn’ta and I’m sorry but it looked fun and I wanted to so I did but some people saw me and I don’t know what they saw but now I’m scared what they’re gonna say an-”

“Okay, okay,” Cassie said calmly, holding a hand out to calm her friend, “we’ll take care of it. If anyone says anything, we’ll make sure people know it’s a lie.”

“Okay okay thank you thank you.” Vanessa leaned back towards her locker, finally beginning to catch her breath.

“You… you alright, V?” Amber asked, concerned.

“Uhhh, I think so,” the girl lied, “just been kinda hard lately.”

“Well, it’s Friday, and at least break is only a week away,” Amber offered.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

One more week, she told herself. One more week, and she could finally get away. 

The weekend did bring Vanessa some reprieve. Afraid of what she would do if she went out, the girl spent the time resting at home. The week that followed, however, quickly became torturous. 

The overwhelming sense of confusion that the girl already felt in her classes seemed now to extend well beyond. She struggled to read DMs and texts, couldn’t figure out how much to pay for lunch, and found herself lost at all the complicated words her friends used when they gossipped. It was all just stress, she reminded herself, but she had never experienced stress quite like this.

When her long-dreaded math midterm arrived, she found herself stuck… trying to remember which way the V pointed in her name. She scribbled it facing in every direction, but nothing felt right. When she finally gave up, not even wanting to attempt whatever math she was expected to know, she turned to staring at the classroom clock, but found that she had no idea what it read. 

Finally, mercifully, the bell rang, and the girl went home, her test pages still blank. 

That night, she found herself again on the river, underneath a clear, blue sky. This time, she could see the wreckage of her old rowboat in front of her, being carried away by the current, while Vanessa herself seemed to be in a basket of some sort. 

She wasn’t moving backwards, at least, but it seemed she wasn’t moving much at all. Her basket was rocking steadily back and forth, staying bizarrely in its place as the stream rushed past. And behind her, the girl could see a waterfall, and make out the faint sounds of a baby’s cry. 

Vanessa woke up and exhaled. It was the last day before break, and it was Halloween. Midterms were over, and the mood at school would be festive and friendly. She had managed to keep her diapers - now on the verge of leaking after a long night of sleep - a secret from everyone who mattered, and, finally, she could say it was almost over. The break would allow her to recuperate, relax, and come back to school in full form, back on her way to being queen. 

Shortly after lunch, however, the girl began to get the creeping sensation that she was being laughed at. All around her, she could hear snickering and derisive whispers, and she felt, somehow, that it was pointing at her. 

By history class, she realized it was real. 

The girl stormed into the hallway as soon as the bell rang, finding her friends chatting in front of an empty classroom. 

“What’s going on?” She demanded, “Did someone say something?”

“No, no,” Cassie assured her, “no one said anything.” 

“Then why is everyone laughing at me!?” the girl fired back, “Something’s happening, an’ I wanna know what it is!”

Cassie and Amber gave each other a nervous look, gulping before looking back at their longtime leader. After a short pause, Amber broke the silence.

“I think… um, they might be laughing because you… uh… you kinda smell. Sorry, V.” 

“I sm-” Vanessa stopped in the middle of her question as the odor, and the revelation, hit her. Her diaper was messy - filled to the brim, as it probably had been for hours - and she had had no idea at all. The laughing around her suddenly made perfect sense, and it was growing louder and louder. 

The girl fought back a shriek and left without a word, her face crimson from trying to contain the riot of emotion inside. But when she marched to her locker, she found a familiar, unwelcome sight in front of it. 

“Well, if it isn’t the talk of the town. Cupcake?” 

It was the new girl, still dressed in black from head to toe, this time with a pointy hat on top, offering what looked to be a dark chocolate cupcake with orange frosting. 

“What the-”

“Well, it’s Halloween. And it’s my birthday! So I figured I’d offer everyone some cupcakes. Or were you just surprised I could talk?”

“I-” Vanessa had no time for this, and she was ready to burst, “I don’t want your cupcake, you, you…” she stammered, face reddening, looking desperately for any word to use, “you poopypants!”

“Really?” the girl in black chuckled, pulling back her cupcake and taking a bite, “That’s what you’re going with?”

Vanessa had no response, and she simply stormed off in a huff, shaking impotent fists as she stomped away. 

Had she put two and two together, she might have been more suspicious of this strange girl in the pointy hat, but putting two and two together was getting to be well beyond her grasp.

READ ON

[megatronvs]

✠ » Get to Know the Mun! « ✠

Answer the questions for your RP partners to know you better - you can always skip a question if it’s too personal!

name: Endee/Indi/ Vaemun

height: 5'8"

languages: English

nationality: American

current time: 12:14 PM

favorite season: Autumn.

favorite scent: Sandalwood, musk, amber, leather

favorite color: Jewel tones, purple, blue, red, green.

favorite animal: Cats, snakes, spiders, and axolotls.

favorite fictional characters: TF Fandom- Jazz, Megatron, Soundwave, Thundercracker, Deadlock, Ratchet, Rodimus, Chromia, and Megatronus. Outside of the TF fandom: Soldier 76, Reaper, Cassidy, Riley from Pacific Rim, Storm (X-men), Magneto (X-men) Lady Liadrian and Jaina Proudmoore (Warcraft). And a slew more that I probably can't fit here.

normal amount of sleep: variable, I'm a chronic insomniac. Been that way for a while.

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: Tea, or cider. If it's hot chocolate, then Mexican hot chocolate.

number of blankets you sleep with: yes.

dogs or cats: Cats, preferably- but pit bulls or bully mixes if dogs.

dream trip: Somewhere other than the US for a little bit. Japan, Sweden, New Zealand, Costa Rica.

dream job: professional yarn hoarder, or anything that doesn't cause me a shit ton of anxiety.

reason for my URL: it's literally his name. Megatronus, just the roman letter for U since they didn't technically have that. Also a call out to my favorite walking war crime, Megatron. <3

favorite style to write: Long form, usually a couple of paragraphs, and sometimes short- if it's crack.

random fact: I have AuADHD, EDS, and PTSD at the same time. I'm a walking alphabet. A nicer fact is that I can rattle off color theory and random dinosaur facts like a walking encyclopedia.

tagged by stolen from : @gladiatorspxrked

tagging : go for it!

[stargirlie-sharon]

I RETURN WITH AN AU where broomstown, or in this case, broomscity, is ruled over by a dictator-like rescue team.

a shadow of your past self

a robocar poli au concept. (tw? dark au)

broomscity is a large city, inhabiting humans, vehicles, and robovehicles. despite its modernized look, a sense of dread can be felt when you step into it.

the rescue team, well, does rescues, but that's more of a side job rather than a main one. their main duty is to keep the city in check, and to make sure no one steps out of bounds and is put in their place should they ever disobey laws. they have the servant class citizens (mostly robovehicles) work for them personally and have them do the dirty work if needed.

poli is the tyrannical and power-hungry leader of the team, greedy for control over those who he sees as inferior to him, and won't hesitate if it means to get that control with force. the once kind and loyal leader had changed his ways for the worse, leaving only but a shadow of what he used to be.

"oh roy, you wouldn't dare to go against your own friends, would you? it'd be such a shame if you did, betraying the people you've spent nearly your entire lives with. you should know better, old friend."

roy is the reckless yet reluctant firefighter. he finds the rescue team's actions to be questionable, however, he's too attached to his beloved friends to go against them. so, he simply complies with orders and goes along with it, regardless of his skepticism. despite this, ironically, he tries not to get too attached to any workers who work under him and the team. knowing that they if end up making too many wrong moves, they might just end up being.. well, never to be seen. don't be surprised if it seems he's distancing himself from you, he just doesn't want to feel the pain of losing a close friend again. the only exception to this is helly.

this man has attachment/abandonment issues someone please give him a hug.

"i-i'm sorry, poli. how could i even begin to think of such a thing? ...this won't happen again."

"good to know you're still on our side, roy~."

sweet and sadistic amber can charm you into following orders from her or the rescue team, and if that fails, she always finds a way to make you. it'd be an understatement to call her just a medic. although she's there fix up and repair robovehicles, amber is also there when you are deserving of punishment. you'll know when you're sent to the infirmary and it's NOT for healing, and you see the array of medical tools, weapons and lethal substances, you know you're screwed.

"your screams and cries won't get you anywhere, it's simply futile. i really didn't want to do this, but i had no choice, you know~? poli's orders, not mine."

helly is the rescue team's faithful little scout. he's aware of how the team can be, so in order to not be not be rejected by poli, shunned by roy, or possibly get dissected by amber, he has to be on his best behavior. he enjoys getting praised by his peers, knowing that he will be given another day of living.

"ah, our little errand boy. he is one of our personal favorites of our servants, and knows how to act and respond to us, unlike some others. quite the attentive one, don't you think?"

☆

i'm very proud of this au ngl... also fun fact i took inspiration from shattered glass ratchet from transformers for amber's bio, haha yesss insane medics go brrrrr (in my tf era currently)

i'm not too sure where to put jin in this au, i know she's affiliated with the rescue team in some way

also, hiya i'm back from my lil break! and i cooked with this au didn't i 🔥🔥🔥🔥

if ya'll have ideas for this au then THAT'D BE AMAZING OMG??? send me your ideas i'd be so happy

[witchofthesouls]

Hey, for the other!tfp trio….let's assume that the team remained on really close contact despite the distance after the war (RID 2015 who knows you? Certainly not me). I wanna see a really touching reunion between the bots and their protegees, but here's the twist:

They return to their kids, only to find out that these three are no longer kids, but young adults (maybe late teens for Raf, because our future little Dragon always will be the youngest of the trio) and are no longer humans (cause they have fully embraced their other heritage)

This time-lapse could be explained by either A) the bots spending a bit longer on Cybertron and losing the human sense of time or B) The kids deciding to make a joint trip to elsewhere/the other side after the end of the war, where time doesn't move the same as in the human plane (they went as kids, but elsewhere spit them as grow ups even though this change doesn't make sense to the bots.... because they are seeing things from a human sense of time); now, when exactly these three got lost and then reborn, that's privy to them alone.... I prefer the B) option if you ask me....

Regardless, I think that these three would remain tightly nit, as tight as possible (they could be on the other extreme of the planet or any other plane, and yet they would return to each other...eventually). Cause after all the went through, separation is not an option for them

Reactions and talks/explanations are meant to happen in response to this..... and what roles June, the Esquivels and the Nakadais families had to play in all this

Ohhh, this is interesting. I hinted or understated in some pieces that time can get weird in Elsewhere as a call to the folktales and myths of humans stepping into an otherworldly space to spend a few hours there, and then stepping back to their world to find out decades had passed.

Perhaps it's their heritage, singing in their bone marrow and igniting from the Matrix's influence, June's own presence (haunting and hungry, no matter how muted or how well she hides her own teeth), or a strange combination. Perhaps it's the experiences they shared, forged in fire and blood as Earth's own chaotic nature. But these three are bonded. Intertwined with each other, even across the world.

Distance means both little and much to them now. They ventured onto foreign, alien planets and spaceships, traveled to lands across the world in the blink of an eye, and went on the run from a manhunt.

Miko keeps the Apex Armor and takes it back to Japan. At the right moments and when the urge gets too much to bear, she steps into the sea and goes farther than any of her relatives could go, even the ones that can hold their breath for 20 minutes.

She hasn't been the most filial of daughters, but she is her parent's child. Her sea-blooded mother stole back a human that survived and thrived from Elsewhere and claimed that man as a spouse. Bloodlust and wet works are no distant strangers to her. She's inexperienced but a willing learner. She already cut her teeth on foreign flesh.

Down in the dark depths where there's no difference between going up to the sun and going towards the abyss, but where her steps tread, she meets someone with pearly, iridescent scales across a long, serpentine body and a face so much like her own (and her mother's and her grandfather's and her-) with large, dark eyes with an amber ring.

After meeting the yokai that birthed her lineage centuries ago, Miko finds her way back to the Americas. A blessing and a warning kept in her heart.

(One day, Miko will understand what her sea-blooded mother meant when she told her that her father was a 'good Man.'

Raf's deep fascination (admiration, obsession) with space exploration and technology is taken in stride among the Esquivels. He doesn't raise any suspicion among them because that's how they all are.

He absorbs whatever he can, consuming the hard-earned lessons under Ratchet's care and oft-handed commentary. The Esquivels hunger and Raf is no different as he swallows how Cybertronian theory and application and attempts to further bridge between human and alien equipment.

Raf had found his teeth and his siblings recognized it as their baby brother doesn't disappear on them nor shrink away from their more vicious arguments.

(They are a family whose flesh descended from fire tempered by earth. Raging passion and violent temptations. Wicked protection and immense wrath. Voracious, cruel, and beastly, yet so very kind and vigilant.)

Mama kissed her youngest boy (because Raf will always be her baby boy) on his head and told him to be careful, praying for his safety as he went with Jack.

That protection will save them on a summer trip when Jack retraces his steps to all the places he once called home.

Ever since his mission to Cybertron, Jack dreams of strange, wistful things. An unquenchable thirst, an itch in his bones... he feels bereft for some reason.

He misses Arcee. He misses all of them. But for some reason, Jack still dreams of the timelessness of Cybertron. There's still something that calls to him in that eerie stillness. Not the desolate ruins of alien cities, although they quietly sing between hope and despair, but it's the outskirts that wait with bated breath.

In the summer after graduation, he takes his new-used car and travels across the mainland United States. The windows are down as the radio blares, wind ruffles his hair as Raf laughs and tries to figure out maps since some locations are so off-beat that the GPS can't confirm the coordinates.

Deep in the bones of a decrepit old house he once called a home in his long-distant childhood because June and Jack moved repeatedly, hopping from place to place without rhyme or reason... there are the echoes of a wailing scream buried within it.

A living corpse for a copse of trees that guard the area.

(A mother will tell her son what exactly brews in their powerful blood and what she has done to ensure he grew up safe to make a choice.)

Elsewhere exists in so many ways, shapes, and forms. At one point, the legends and myths had once walked upon Earth and left their marks. Something happened in the unwritten, unspoken past that corralled those legends away.

The trio will venture through the many portals and gateways and have many more adventures as they realize there are far more Cybertronian relics on Earth...

Mermaid queens and Seelie emperors, dignitaries of unearthly shapes painted in enamel and precious jewels, sharp animals with sharper intelligence that speak in prose, the faint imprints in slumbering environments, and empty, the lingering remains of humanity's role among such great and terrible things.

(Humanity was (is) great and terrible themselves.)

(Miko's father is a 'good Man,' and that means something different to such beings.)

"Long ago, Man made peace with Magic." "Long ago, it was decreed that Man would stay."

Time isn't linear in Elsewhere which incorporates so much that a single or several maps would be useless. Time flows in so many directions that it's a constant battle to recognize and travel to and from their own particular section of a river.

Perhaps it's his heritage or a minor blessing from the Matrix, but Jack is more sensitive to flow and can locate the best spots for them to get back to their Earth. To the same week, month, or year they ventured away.

Miko explores her own bloodthirst and prey drive. The singing, thrumming chant in her blood and how the Apex Armor responds to it.

Raf hones his own instinct on his particular guidance to find portals and lucky happenstances. Between him and Jack's instincts for 'shiny' things, little can escape them.

In some worlds, they grow older. Aging and bulking, exploring how to reshape themselves and all sorts of careers. In others, they seem immortal compared to the rapid change around them in a species whose lifespan is a single human year.

"We could be gods here," says a man with a firestorm trapped in his bones and has become a dragon. Not a Dragon because he searches the stars for a mech he once called brother. "Are we not gods already?" The not-man made of shadows and feathers replies. He still dreams of a far-distant metal planet and realizes that it whispered to him back then. "Does it matter," laughs a woman encased in armor that's more like a second skin, tendrils sweeping upon the floor like the gentle motion of a calm tide upon the beach. Pink for her lost girlhood and passion, a warning and a sign from her many great-grandmother. Green as the metal she once called her kin.

When humans are pulled Elsewhere. Three things usually happen: they break there, they struggle or thrive, or they break at home.

"How many times have we done this?" A boy that's not really a boy, who shall become a dragon in so many lifetimes, asks his companions. (Raf keeps his sister's warning close to his heart as she once died in a foreign, strange desert and was resurrected in her own pyre to devour the city that enslaved her and so many countless others. Pilar has become a Dragon and that legacy between mortal and divine shall be her epitaph in a battlefield far sooner than later.)

Ratchet returns. Some things change, while some remain the same.

Jack tastes the grief and repressed anger upon the medic and leaves him be. Raf remembers Ratchet parked in the garbage and keeps the old medic busy between lessons and searches. Miko digs into the festering tangle of emotions, lapping into those wounds as she uses the Apex Armor on the training mats to absorb those fighting skills and grills for information about Cybertron and the rest of Team Prime.

She cares, she really does, but the boys' avoidance of Ratchet's issues won't help anyone, especially if (or when) the medic leaves the planet with no way to contact again.

Ratchet went Elsewhere twice. The first time was a rough pill to swallow as Team Prime never realized its existence. He wondered where the trio had scavenged a considerable amount of Energon crystals and the resources to guard the new base with all the newly acquired. He stiffly apologized to them because he had thrown hurtful words over their travels, calling them "superstitious" and "better than that" and "this is why you never applied yourselves" was the least of the insults. The second time, he realized just how much and fast humans age as he counted each tick on his chronometer as they ventured across new continents and strange seas. Those years and crippling injuries and strange bodies melt away from the trio as they return back to their native Earth and their baseline human form.

June visits them. Ratchet never thought to ask how she found them in Nevada when Agent Fowler would have never told a civilian about them. No one questioned how she managed to bypass all the security with her car.

He tallies all the strange, eerie signs as she leaves hints to solve their challenges, how she seems to appear when food is low and they're too busy to bring anything more substantial than a simple run to the nearest fast food joint or a quick foraging session, how all the security in the world, both Cybertron's and Earth's, cannot track her.

"I am what I need or want to be." The one called June Darby demurely answers.

The only family member of Raf's that Ratchet will officially meet is Pilar whose bones are filled to the brim with rituals, survival tips with monsters, gods, and hostile environments, and formal protocols in so many kingdoms, both dead and alive. She grieves as well. She had given up the Dragon to return home but her memories are bursting full of laughter and people and color when the crumbling ruins the new Team explores are long empty of an extinct people or a fallen kingdom.

"Sometimes I think I carved out parts of my heart and left it there. All I have left are the memories as I'm the only one that remembers the campfire songs and the lessons of all those who helped me."

Ratchet will never meet the Nakadai family face-to-face, but he gets a hint of what they are with all the messages and packages they send their only child. Izumi sends pointers on how to prepare certain sea creatures and how to differentiate the signs of an underwater portal in treacherous waters. Her husband will leave cryptid messages and strange, gold pieces. Sometimes he sends coordinates for Miko to dig up a weapons cache or an informant to cultivate.

Of course, things change when the not-quite-human trio spirit back a Primal Artifact of Quintus Prime...

[professor-amaryllis]

📼

[A video file is embedded. There seems to be heavy corruption on this tape, and the only sound that can be heard throughout the entire tape is the buzzing of static, which can also be seen creeping in around the edges of the film. every so often the tape skips and sputters, struggling to play back.

Two figures can be seen climbing the fire escape of what seems like a rather tall building, nearly to the roof. The first is a younger trainer, maybe 15, she has long brown hair that's pulled back in a ponytail and her outfit is entirely black. The second is... a figure. they seem to be made from static alone, as if someone cut away the shape of a person and left only a void behind. It's difficult to look at them too closely, uncomfortable, like there's a creeping dread the longer your eyes stay on them.

It's dark, and as the pair crest the top of the building and step onto the roof a clear sky is revealed, stars dotting the horizon, impressively clear for a city of this size. The skyline stretches out below, lights glowing back like they are trying to rival the stars themselves. The trainer turns back to her companion, a bright smile on her face, and begins to sign at them, more or less competent Unovan sign language, and they respond in kind.

M: Are you sure about this? Won't they notice we're gone?

???: Are you kidding? Blackouts out for the night, and we both know Ratchet is useless at best. I doubt they even check.

This seems to make both of them laugh, the silent giggling of the trainer seeming to echo the shaking of the silhouette's shoulders. The two walk over to the edge, sitting so that their legs dangle off the side and they have a view of the city. The silhouette seems to take off a bag, pulling out a bottle, the clear glass showing off an amber liquid inside.

M: Moltres' Feathers, where did you get that?

???: Moltres? You're starting to sound like Blackout too. Anyway, it doesn't matter where I got it. Do you want some or not?

M: Of course I do, who do you think you're talking to? Give me that.

There's a mock indignation to the girl(?) as the grabs the bottle from the figure. The takes a drink, and nearly drops the bottle as she coughs and sputters, much to the silent laughter of her companion.

M: What the hell is that?

???: Brandy. Cheap brandy, I'm pretty sure, but it isn't that bad. Give it a chance, I'm sure you'll grow to love it.

M: I'm not so sure about that. I'll try though I guess.

She takes another sip, still cringing a bit, but not coughing this time, and hands the bottle back to the figure, who takes a drink themselves. There's a pause as the two watch the city below, but the trainer keeps glancing back to the figure, wringing their hands a little.

M: ...Taylor? ...Thank you. I'm not sure how I would get through any of this if I didn't have you sometimes.

Taylor: What? Melody what are you talking about? You're one of the best in our unit and we both know it. You'd be just fine without me. Hell if not for me you might be the best of us.

With this Taylor pokes Melody on the forehead, and seems to laugh again, before putting an arm around her shoulders. She seems surprised by this, flushing a strawberry pink and freezing a moment before leaning into her companion.

The footage is becoming steadily more corrupted, the static now bleeding out from the figure as well as in from the edges, and the footage skips and sputters more and more. It's difficult to make out much more, but with some effort one last line can be made out.

Melody: You know as well as I do that I'll kick your ass at anything... Still... I'm glad you're here with me.

the footage seems almost to tear in two, leaving only blackness and the sound of static until the Video Ends.]

[cozzzynook]

Some silly Dratchet/Ratchlock

Ratchet is working in the Med bay late at night just finishing up some Data pads he needed to sign before he calls it a night. When he goes to put them away in a desk he hears creaking coming from one of the air vents. He grabs one of his blasters and opens the air vent hoping just see some vermin crawling in the vents again, however he greeted by some bright Amber/Red optics and nearly has a spark attack.

Poor Deadlock quickly puts the fainted CMO into one of the Med Beds and prays no one heard him hit the floor. Maybe he should stop sneaking through the air vents if he wants to visit his beloved Medic during the night. :)

Poor Ratchet.

Deadlock you can’t sneak up on old people like that. Especially traumatized, grouchy old people.

He should give Ratchets boobs a massage for his troubles 🙂‍↕️