#Bluestreak transformers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tinydefector · 2 months ago

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Marine Centre 10- merformers Au SMUT

Bluestreak for y'all cause he's the lucky Mer who gets to hit it first.

This was originally 8k words and I got it down to 4k very happy and I hope you all enjoy the first smut for this fic.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: smut, interspecies sex, mating, oral, sex knotting. Language barrier.

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The soft whistles from Angelfish had been following them for a while as they continued picking up rubbish on the beach. Dale, Quin and the new hires were out doing water testing and they had said they were going to stay back.

The grey blue oceanide wades in the water chirping and calling out to them as he flings rubbish on the sand for them to pick up. He circles around rocks but comes back to the shallow water barely skimming across the sand to be close.

They take the trash he throws, adding it to the bag even as he wobbles at them. "Angelfish no, not playing today, i'll go swimming in the reef later" they call back to him only paying mild attention. Their thoughts were off in the ocean, they hoped Big blue was alright he had been very scares since his ‘accident’ while Angelfish had become rather vocal and been pursuing them.

They yelp as he launches from the water to grab them pulling them into the shallow water with a loud thrill of triumph. "Angel Stop!" They yell struggling against his hold as he pulls them close. Their eyes look up to meet with the big pools of blue against black as he chirps and huffs out a little melody. “Ooeeeeneeooaee” comes from the Oceanide as he caws excitedly as his gambit succeeds.

But at their cry, he recoils in distress, fins drooping in dismay. "Ooeeaeeouueeaa!" he, chirruping anxiously it sounds almost pitiful as he hands cup their face. Another collection of whistles and whines leave him as he looks at them pleadingly

Feebly he trills another song, bumping his crest against their forehead. “Oeeaeeiaiaeeaeeeeeeoeeee." They squirm in his arms before finally settling when. "Angel please don't, I'm not one of your people, big blue understands and is staying away for a reason" they mumble.

"N..o o..o Bl..ue goo, I be wih ow." The words are crash, harsh even compared to his sweet little songs. But they understand enough of it to see what he's trying to state. He nuzzles their face pleadingly, eyes wide and bright.

" I fign.., fe..ed s..ae" he uses his clawed hands as he talks. “Angel Stop, you will hurt your throat” they try to plead for him to settle down. His fins flutters and flare as he gazes upon them. "B…e mm te?"

There is a long silence between them as they just stare at him in shock. "Angel... I can't, I'm not one of you, there are plenty of others of your kind" they explain only for him to pull them closer fins and frills flared in display head moving as if trying to showcase the colours that flare in the scales.

When they don't react to the little dance he huffs softly wet webbed hands cupping their face as he presses his lips to their in a messy and uncoordinated kiss. They gasp as he kisses them, it's out of the blue and such a human gesture, they lean into it softly, in truth it was a terrible kiss, he tasted of fish, seaweed and Salt. But his enthusiasm surprised them.

A pleading keen erupts from his vocals as he holds them close. "Aeeeeaeeuueeuueeeeaoaaooeeaouuaaeeouuooeeieeeeieeeeaaeeeeeeieeoaeeoaee." Angelfish trills eagerly at their softening, nuzzling into their hands with desperate affection. They look up to his eyes as his webbed hands cup their face tenderly. "I can get in trouble, the others I work with don't know you are this sentient, I will get in alot of trouble" they try to argue. But his soft little calls are making it hard to say no to him along with his big almost seal eyes.

He warbles in confusion, gathering their small form close in an embrace, "Oh angel..." they lean into his body resting their head against his shoulder as they hold him. The mer slowly drifts back while holding them. The afternoon light bounces off the waves of the surf as he just cradles them against his frame. He warbles softly, nuzzling their head with his own. Another little melody leaving him as they drift in the waves together.

"You want to sing for me?" They question. Not really understanding the meaning of his little songs but they sound much sweeter than him trying to mimic and use their words. Angelfish trills happily, brightening at their request. Carefully he carries them through the water.

They sit up on him watching how he navigates so swiftly on his back, the small saltwater and freshwater river were the last place they expected him to take them but in truth it was still beautiful. They watch as kingfishers and sea birds perch in the trees. Crabs scurry through sandy mud to find hiding places as the large predator leaserly swims with them sat atop of him.

It's a sheltered cove not the same as connected to the lagoons there's grassy little banks and it almost reminds them of fresh water swimming holes, with large rocks and little waterfalls that lead down into the mouth of the river where grass meets water. It's rather secluded despite how pretty it was.

Gently he settles them amidst the soft grass of the creek's lip, eyes bright and hopeful. His fins flutter showing off colours in display as a melody rises from his chest. Their eyes never leave him as he sings, a cascade of tones and harmonics flowing from his frame in waves.

It is so alike yet different from the songs of Whales and dolphins. As he spins around in the water, seeming to almost dance and he sings. Their legs rest in the water, his body brushing against them every twist and turn he makes in his dance. When its echoes fade, he nuzzles their face pressing himself close to them. the oceanide chitters and warbles happily at them. “ liked?”

His body slowly sinks down as he rests his head on their lap, nuzzling their legs nestled in the tide, fins fluttering softly as their hand comes to brush across them. " mate?" His eyes blaze with longing hope as he looks up at them.

They take a deep sigh before looking at him. "I don't know what to do even if I was too…" they mumble, trailing off. Were they really going to do this?. The oceanides are A completely different species, yes they could talk, and this one was rather eager for their permission. But this was still illegal, they were Sea life, animals. But as they look at Angelfish waiting patiently for their answer.

They were both consenting adults and he was the one trying to propersiton them, but the consequences of others finding out still weighed heavily. They snap out of their thoughts as clawed fingers to move to their clothing, Tugging and pulling trying to indicate what he wanted. He chirrups eagerly at them, his flared fins and frills shimmering as he still tries to impress them.

Fuck it.

Their hands move to the buttons of their shirt helping show him how to remove it. His eyes widen as webbed hands move across their exposed skin. They gasp as his cold webbed hands trace over their body. awe cross his face as he chirps at them. His claws trace aimless patterns, committing each new texture to memory.

A shaky croon erupts from his throat as he gently guilds their hands to his own body. The two tracing patterns and looking over each other's bodies as they try to figure out just how this was going to work.

Their eyes snapping down to him as he flicks his tongue out to run across their stomach before he dips down further. A loud gasp escapes them as he tilts their body back giving himself across to taste what he truly wants, a loud moan leaves them as he plunges his tongue deeper a loud rumble leaves him as he pulls them closer.

Their hands grip his head, guiding him and trying their hardest not to pull or damage his pretty frills. their hips rock into his mouth as he laps at them, hsi sharp teeth make them shutter as goosebumps flush across their skin.

The grey blue oceanide chirps eagerly at their sounds, Gently he urges closer, fins fluttering, and when they feel his teeth retract it leaves them stunned. ‘They have retractable teeth’ the muse over as he continued to drag his tongue over their sensitive skin. It makes them keen and arch into the touch.

Their back arches into the grass as Angelfish spreads their thighs wider, Gently he nuzzles his way back up their body. He gently pecks their face and neck, another small collection of thrills leaves him. Their gaze meets, as he rests himself above them. Claws digging into the grass as he looks down at them head tilted to the side.

They tense up and freeze slightly as he rolls his body against them, his clappers move against their own sex. But when they spread their head shoots down, chin rested on their chest as they watched his slit open. his penis emerges slowly, it's smooth a lighter blue than the rest of his grey blue body.

Their eyes widen as more of it slinks out of the slit. “Holy shit, holy shit” they gasp as the mer grinds against them. He chirps again softly checking over them again. “God I can't believe I'm doing this” they state In a hushed voice.

The Oceanide moves them around slightly, finding his preferred position, one webbed claw holds their hips as he moves closer, the head brushes against their entrance making them tense up. Angelfish coos at them softly as he presses against them again they tip slowly breaching.

They whimper loudly, as he presses deeper, it's a rather smooth glide due to the texture. It doesn't hurt nearly as much as they were expecting it too. A loud purr leaves Angelfish as he slowly rocks into them trills happily,

his back fins flutter wildly as he grinds himself deeper trying to press as far into them as he physically could. They clench at the feeling only to gasp and let their head fall back into the grass. They move slightly trying to find a more comfortable position, one leg hooking over his back.

Soft chitters of appreciation escape him, once happy Angelfish begins to rock back and forth, it's slow, sticky as he pulls his length out partially before slamming it back into them. Loud moans leave them as they grip onto him, fingers digging into his back as they cling onto him with each thrust.

Angelfish let out a loud whine, his body instinctively grinding back against theirs, his tail flicking each time he hilted in them, thrills of delight rattle down his spinal fins. Each thrust feels like they are gasping for air as he drives his spike deeper. The feeling of his scales are strange as he manoeuvres them but in truth they feel sinfully good against their skin.

"Ne…ed yo... waa,t..." his voice sounds so broken yet filled with desire and longing, his words broken as he tries to utter their words again. They dig their heel into the back of the grey blue mer. Eagerly clenching around him.

They cry out as Mers penis flares, a large knot locking them in place at the base as gush of seamen spilling into their smaller frame. Angelfish’s fins and frills extend in display as he thrills loudly, rutting quickly with each spurt that leaves his knotted length. It's uncomfortable after the first few spills, his load leaking out the sides of where they are joined.

They try moving around to become more comfortable but it only makes them whine at how full they are starting to feel. “Angel, fuck move please” they gasp out laying against the grass panting as they look up at Oceanide who seems rather content watching them.

His hands move over them as he checks them, pressing against their stomach only to make them wince. He cooed softly with worry written across his face. "I'm alright, fuck just wasn't expecting that " they whisper while rocking back against him.

He chirps softly as he pulls them closer. Leaning back splashing into the water with them pressed to his chest as he floats. It makes them yelp as they shoot him a dirty look. Pulling his fin which earns a hiss and a look like they had kicked a dog.

“don't do that” they grumble but settle against his body as he cradles them. as they gently drift in the water in lazy circles. Nuzzling their face with care, his thrills and calls mellow down into little chirps and rumbles. “God I'm so fucked if anyone finds out about this” they mumble to themself, eyes fluttering closed as they cuddle the large mer, it would be a problem for tomorrow, they were to drained and they doubt they would be getting away from the cling oceanide any time soon.

“what am I going to do with you Angel?” they mumble before sighing and letting the soft rumbles from his chest lure them into rest.

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The soft whistles from Bluestreak had been following the human for a while as they continued picking strange objects off the beach. He wades in the water after them. Trying to get their attention by bringing similar looking stuff he found floating in the ocean. Bluestreak chirps brightly as he trails after the landwalker, fins flared and ablaze as he was hot on their trail. Every so often he surfaces alongside them, presenting another tidbit of flotsam meant to please.

But no amount of trinkets seem able to sway their focus from its task. Undaunted, the excitable mer redoubles his melody, “Soft one, please look at me, I'm trying, I want to prove my worth," He calls out hopeful they would spare him a glance.

He circles hopefully, water swirling around him as he tries to catch their attention.

Bluestreak caws excitedly as he succeeds in grabbing them and pulling them into the shallow water with him, making them forget their carrier of items and as their small hands briefly touch his frame he thrills in delight. But at their cry, he recoils in distress, fins drooping in dismay.

"No no, please don't push me away!" he pleads, chirruping anxiously. "I just want to know you, prove I can give and provide" eyes wide and shining. To have come so close only to fail - the thought is more than his youthful spark can bear. Feebly he trills bumping his crest against theirs. "One chance is all I ask, please let me prove myself."

Their words make him sag softly, feeling dejected at their tone and the words he could understand. "N..o o..o Bl..ue goo, I be wih ow." The words are crash, harsh on his throat as he tries to get across his point. He nuzzles their face pleadingly, eyes wide and bright.

"I want to protect, feed... Always keep you safe I will make a nest... Please, give a chance to provider and protector?" There is a long silence between them as they just stare at him.

When they don't react to the little dance he huffs softly wet webbed hands cupping their face as he presses his lips to their in a messy and uncoordinated kiss. He had seen humans do this before to relay affection and he hoped it would be enough for them to finally understand. eyes taste of strange flavours things he had very tried but he enjoyed it and if it meant they would accept him he would kiss them as many times as they wanted.

"B…e mm te?..." the landers words hurt to express but he wants the get better so they can understand, so he can talk with them. The sad tone in their voice again hurts to hear, they sound so dejected to him, the hadn't said no but they sounded as if they would be in trouble if they did say yes.

"M-mate, please...just try. Let me show you all the ways of the ocean. Our sparks are the same, even if we are shaped differently. Give me a chance," he almost begged eyes wide as he cups their face. nuzzling into their hands with desperate affection. Still his grasp of their strange world remains limited despite all longing.

"Trouble? For touching?" He warbles in confusion, optics rounding wide and bright. The thought of their tender moments sowing them hardship cuts like ice through his spark.

Determined, he gathers their small form close in an embrace.

they lean into his body resting their head against his shoulder as they hold him. Mumbling in their little crash words as he pulls them to slowly drift with him.

He doesn't understand. It's like how the elders told him to stay away from humans. We're they told to stay away from his people?

Bluestreak warbles softly, nuzzling their head with his own as he drifts further with them in his hold. Their gentle touch alone soothes some of his worries. "Nothing simple about you. Elders always said "stay away from you." He keens gently, hoping his melody conveys what words cannot.

The afternoon light bounces off the waves of the surf as he just cradles them against his frame. He warbles softly, nuzzling their head with his own. Another little melody leaving him as they drift in the waves together.

Their question is one he understands though. trilling happily, brightening at their request. Carefully he carries them through the water.

He glides thought the water on his back, making sure they stay sat atop of him. “this is my favourite place, i come here when i want to be away from the others” he coos.

Gently he settles them amidst the soft grass, eyes bright and hopeful.

His fins flutter showing off colours in display as a melody rises from his chest. The soft ones eyes never leave him as he sings, a cascade of tones and harmonics flowing from his frame in waves. He sings his spark out for them. As he spins around in the water, dancing and singing for them.

When he finishes his performance, he nuzzles their face pressing himself close to them. chitters and warbles happily at them. “ liked?”

" I sing and swim just for you!." Eagerly he nuzzles their legs nestled in the tide, fins fluttering softly as their hand comes to brush across his frills. " mate?" His eyes blaze with longing hope as he looks up at them.

His clawed fingers moved to their stange covering, Tugging and pulling trying to figure out how to get it off. “please i want to see you” He chirrups eagerly at them, his flared fins and frills shimmering as he still tries to impress them.

They moment they move to discard the covering he wants to sing loudly, to thrill in triumph. “ we take it slowly Watch and learn, then we mate." His fins flutters wildly as drawing them closer, claws trace aimless patterns across their soft skin, A shaky croon erupts from his throat in plea. "Touch me too, let me show you how? We mate, then swim and sing together." His mind is racing faster than he can talk.

The sweet scent from between their strange legs has his pupils dilating, his mouth is on them before he can even think, they smell so good, ready and in season, everything he could hope for. Their hands grip his head, earning a rumble from him.

their hips rock into his mouth as he laps at them eagerly drinking in the sweet taste of them, when he realises his teeth are brushing their soft skin he retracts them, he doesn't want to hurt his mate, no he didn't want them to bleed.

Their back arches into the grass as he spreads their thighs wider, Gently he nuzzles his way back up their body. He gently pecks their face and neck. They tense up and freeze slightly as he rolls his body against them, his clappers move against their own heat.

“shhh, I promise I'll take care of you” his slit open. Spike emerges slowly, Their eyes widen as more of it slinks out of the slit. they gasp as the mer grinds against them. “it won't hurt I promise” He chirps again softly checking over them again.

Once he finds his preferred position, one webbed claw holds their hips as he moves closer, the head of his spike brushes against their entrance making them tense up. “ no, no don't tense you will hurt yourself” he coos at them softly as he presses against them again the tip slowly breaching into their warmth.

It takes everything in him to not slam home into their tight little frame. They whimper loudly, as he presses deeper, they feel sinfully tight as he moves. A loud purr leaves him as he slowly rocks into them trills happily. “primus you feel amazing, mm my sweet little soft one” he whispers.

His back fins flutter wildly as he grinds himself deeper trying to press as far into them as he physically could. They clench at the feeling only to gasp and let their head fall back into the grass. They move slightly trying to find a more comfortable position, one leg hooking over his back.

"Ne…ed yo... waa,t..." his voice sounds so broken yet filled with desire and longing, his. They dig their heel into the his back. Eagerly clenching around him. Every thrust, every touch was a declaration of his primal need to breed and impregnate them, to claim them as his little mate. Would their pups take after his sweet little lander if they had them?

So many thoughts run through his mind as he holds them in place.

"Such a good mate... so eager for my pups" he coos to them, he knew they couldn't understand but at that moment he didn't care, they felt so good wrapped around his spike and he could feel his knot slowly inflating and locking them together.

They cry out as his Spike flares, a large knot locking them in place at the base as gush of his seed, spilling into their smaller frame. His fins and frills extend in display as he thrills loudly, rutting quickly with each spurt that leaves his knotted length.

He purrs deeply watching as he leaks from the confined space of his little lover, leaning down he presses his crest to their forehead in delight. When they begin to wiggle he pulls them to his chest. His hands move over them as he checks them, pressing against their stomach. “So full, you look lovely like this little mate"he hums in delight only to tense when they wince. He cooed softly with worry written across his face. they whisper while rocking back against him.

“Shhh, you did so well for me, so well, time for us to swim” he whispers to them as he flops back into the water with them cradled against his body. He chirps softly as he pulls them closer. Leaning back splashing into the water with them pressed to his chest as he floats. It makes them yelp as they shoot him a dirty look. Pulling his fin which earns a hiss and a look like they had kicked a dog. “What was that for?” He warbles at them worried he had offended or upset them. His hands are moving across their body again, checking them and praying that they were not hurt.

They grumble but settle against his body as he cradles them. as the two gently drift in the water in lazy circles. He nuzzles their face with care, slowly grooming their crest fluff. “ My pretty little mate” he chirps to them.

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electricchaser · 1 month ago

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Different than Met the Eye.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60797710

Chapter one.

Prowl let out an agitated huff, narrowing his optics at the datapad in his servo.

“Of all the-... “ he shook his head.

Another report. On the Twins, wreaking havoc as usual, much to everyone else’s inconvenience. If he’d known that 30% of it would be dealing with those two, Prowl wouldn’t have taken to paperwork as a distraction from the Praxus disaster.

“Some job Ratchet's doing, keeping them in check,” Prowl muttered, “he needs to get those two on some sort of leash, or I’m talking to Ironhide.”

Prowl always thought it took at least a few minutes to lose one’s patience.

Then he met Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

Then they introduced him to how sorely, utterly and indefinitely wrong he was, because Those two figured out how to get on nerves Prowl didn’t even know he had, and turned it into a fine art.

Prowl sighed, in spite of himself, and pinched his nasal ridge. Begrudgingly, he signed off on the report and tossed it aside, into the record bin. Not any vaguely categorised bin, but the bin. The one dedicated to the twins and all their shenanigans. They'd only recently started a third bin, but, as though the two were aware and took it as some sort of game or challenge, it was already half-way full.

Prowl was about to pick up a new file, praying it wasnt another record entailing the Twins’ endeavours, but paused when he heard a knock at his office door.

“Can’t you find someone else to bother?” Prowl muttered, not bothering to look and see who had come heralding his attention as he picked up the file, “im working.”

A soft huff reached Prowl’s audials.

“I’m gonna pretend I ain’t mad about that greetin’, cause I know it'd kill ya to act happy to see me, or anyone for that matter,” a soothingly familiar voice said, mildly agitated. Jazz stepped into the office, folding his arms over his Chassis and leaning against the doorway,

“... but trust me, Prowler, you’ll wanna hear this,” Jazz continued, voice pointed, “Ratchet’s got a new kid in the medbay, and yer gonna wanna see ‘im.”

Prowl paused for a moment, staring at Jazz blankly. Then he let out a heavy ex-vent, leaning back in his chair.

“And why do you believe I’d be interested?” Prowl said flatly, a mostly neutral but mildly disinterested tone to his voice. He could practically feel the Polyhexian narrow his optics behind his visor.

“Cause i know ya, babe,” he said, “and I know better than to bug ya while yer workin’, and i wouldn’t be here if it weren't important.

Prowl frowned and went to speak, but Jazz cut him off with a raised servo.

“The kid’s praxian.”

The datapad in Prowl’s servo hit his desk with a clatter. Prowl remained silent for a long few nanokliks, willing the crackle in his circuits to subside before he cycled a shaky vent.

“... you’re sure…?” He asked quietly.

Jazz sighed, his expression softening. He took a few steps forward and gently took Prowl’s servo in his own.

“Red Alert found him in one of the collapsed buildings in Praxus earlier today,” he said softly, “kid came back online a cycle ago, but he ain’t talkin’.”

Jazz sighed softly, hanging his helm briefly.

“Babe, ya gotta come talk to ‘im. Right now, he probably thinks he’s the only Praxian alive.

Prowl was quiet for a moment, hanging his helm slightly. His optics dimmed in thought as he gently squeezed Jazz’s servo.

“... yeah. I suppose you’re right…” he said quietly.

Prowl paused, a vulnerability to his expression as he lifted his optics to meet Jazz’s. He scanned Jazz’s face for a moment, before speaking quietly.

“.... i don’t..know.. If I can do this alone…”

A soft smile spread across Jazz’s faceplate.

“What do I always tell ya, Prowler?”

Jazz gave Prowl’s servo a gentle squeeze.

“Long as I'm around, ya ain’t ever alone. I promised ya that, and I ain't ever breakin’ it.”

Prowl averted his gaze down to their servos to break eye contact. His thumb ran over Jazz’s knuckles in a soft gesture, his voice becoming a barely audible, slightly staticky whisper.

“I don’t deserve you, you know…”

“Oh disconnect yer vocalizer,” Jazz said, shaking his head before pressing his forehead to Prowl’s, “We ain’t got time, right now, for me to list all the ways that ain’t true.”

Jazz slid around Prowl’s desk, keeping a firm hold on Prowl’s servo, and gently tugged the tactician to his pedes.

“Now C’mon, we got a kid to check on,” Jazz said, offering a reassuring smile.

Prowl just stood in place for a moment, squeezing Jazz’s servo, before he gave a meek nod, and the two shuffled out of the office.

As the two walked, Jazz discreetly linked their pinky digits together, offering what little comfort he could without using complete PDA on Prowl. They headed down the long halls of the base, slowly making their way toward the medical bay.

“Kid’s real skittish..” Jazz spoke up after a moment of silence.

“He hasn’t said a single thing since he woke up. Ironhide had to practically pry the twins off ‘im when Sides wouldn’t stop talkin’. Kid wouldn’t talk to Ratch’, or even Prime.”

The corners of Prowl’s mouth tugged down into a frown. He wasn’t surprised both Ratchet and Optimus had made attempts to talk to the kid. It made sense, if Ratchet was the one looking after the kid, and Optimus had a soft spot for newbies and younglings.

“Any idea how old he is?”

Jazz huffed, briefly scratching his nasal ridge.

“.. not very…” Jazz said, “Ratch guessed he’s probably around his late teens– ah, in earth terms. He seems to be around the twins’ age anyway.”

Prowl frowned, nodding meekly.

“What’s his designation?”

At that, Jazz turned slightly sheepish, giving a small shrug.

“Ah, dunno,” he said awkwardly, “like I said, kid ain’t talkin’. Ratchet’s gettin’ fed up with all the unanswered questions, though. He's about one more pouty frown for an answer from overridin’ the kid’s circuitry so he can actually start a record on him.”

Prowl's hand tensed, and he bristled visibly.

"What. He can’t," He said harshly, glaring at Jazz, "... He... can't *do* that. The kid is frightened. He just needs some time-"

The words sounded hollow even as he said them. He knew the medical staff didn't have that kind of time to play the kid's waiting game. But he couldn't help a spark of sympathy for the kid. He knew first hand how fun it was, having your circuits scrambled.

He let out a sharp ex-vent and forced himself to calm down a little. Jazz didn't say Ratchet was actually considering it. It was a harmless comment. A tease.

Jazz let out a soft huff.

"... yeah... Ratch ain't known for his patience, but any other medics skilled enough to patch him up, the kid wouldn't sit still for. He'd only stay put for Ratch and Red Alert, and Red had to bounce about thirty kliks ago."

They continued to walk and rounded a corner. The med bay was just down the hall now. Prowl vented slowly in an attempt to ease the gentle thrumming in his spark.

Prowl’s gaze flickered around the room, his attention split between the situation they were walking into and the feeling of Jazz's pinky still intertwined with his own. He found himself squeezing the servo discreetly in an attempt to ground himself.

They reached the door to the medbay, and Prowl felt a spark of anxiety race through his lines. A hundred different scenarios ran through his processor, none of them good. He squeezed his optics shut for a moment, praying for that unpleasant crackle to leave his circuitry. Primus, how he hated that crackle.

Jazz gave Prowl's pinky a reassuring squeeze, and the two stepped inside.

There were a bunch of injured autobots that medics were skittering around and tending to, and the two gave a few here and there a brief nod as they passed by.

Jazz led prowl over to a corner of the room, where Ratchet was hunched over, working on a young bot's ankle. the framing and circuitry had been crushed, and the plating split open. Upon a closer glance, Ratchet had needed to cut off The circulation in order to stop the energon leaking.

The kid was small, sensor wings drooping low on his back. one leg was stretched out for Ratchet to mend, while the other pulled up to his chassis, chin resting on his knee. He was a dark charcoal grey with black accents, with a red torso and thigh plating. He had a red chevron on his forehead, a third of which was broken off on the one side, and His paint was chipped and scuffed just about everywhere. His chassis raddled as he let out a wheezy cough.

Needless to say, the kid looked like shit.

But Prowl wouldn't say that, not out loud.

No, Jazz would smack him upside the head for that. Especially if it was the first thing out of his mouth upon seeing the kid.

So instead prowl kept quiet, letting his optics scan the young bot's frame, taking in his injuries and the dull, defeated expression on his features. His spark seemed to clench with some strange, almost *foreign* sensation that Prowl didn't recognize, and it took him a moment to identify that it was grief. There was that incessant crackle in his circuits again, and he squinted his optics momentarily.

Prowl stepped closer, silently watching Ratchet work, and Jazz stood a pace behind him.

Finally, After a few nanokliks, he found his voice, and spoke in a quiet, even tone.

"How is he, Ratchet?"

Ratchet glanced up, arching an optic ridge.

"... stable and conscious, obviously," Ratchet said with a gesture, earning a frown from the kid, "... but he won't talk. To anyone."

Ratchet let out a heavy sigh. the kid hung his head, curling in on himself as much as possible, violet blue optics dimming to a barely noticeable glow. Prowl was barely a metre away from the kid, and he couldn't even sense his energy field.

"... his ankle's about 70 percent of the damage. There's barely enough stable tissue and circuitry for me to reconstruct and repair it. Everything else is just dents and cracks and internal damage that'll have to repair itself in time.”

Prowl's frown deepened slightly as Ratchet's bluntness did nothing to help the kid seem any less miserable. Prowl's sensors were focused on the young bot, noting his small frame and slumped form. He seemed scared and uncomfortable, and it was a wonder he allowed Ratchet near him at all after what Prowl assumed must have been some painful surgery, and how skittish he’d been informed the kid was.

Prowl took a step closer, optic ridges creasing slightly.

The kid's Optics flicked to peer at Prowl out of the corner of his optics, and he discreetly shifted toward the opposite side of the medical berth, letting out another small cough. Ratchet sighed, his servos stilling.

"Kid, ya gotta sit still," he said exasperatedly. Then he tried to continue working, but the kid winced and pulled his foot back slightly.

"I would've put him under for this, I wanted to... but he wouldn't let anyone near him to shut him down..." Ratchet sighed, "... but this leg needed to be fixed, so the best I could do was deactivate some of his pain receptors."

Jazz shot Ratchet a disapproving look, but it was ignored.

Prowl said nothing, but his expression darkened further. It was a miracle the kid had even let Ratchet do even rudimentary repairs, much less more invasive surgery. Then again, he was only a young mech, and he was probably scared out of his processor.

"He's obviously traumatised." Prowl said, just loud enough for Ratchet to hear.

Ratchet sighed somewhat agitatedly.

"... that is... prominently evident," he muttered, "... we're just lucky he was barely conscious when Red Alert found him, or we probably never would've even gotten our hands on the kid.”

Then Ratchet paused for a moment before continuing.

"..I gave him an energon sedative to subdue his anxiety and help keep him calm... but even that can only do so much. I'm surprised it hasn't worn off yet."

so the kid was sedated. That explained why he was acting so lowkey and relaxed.

Prowl’s optic twitched as his optic ridges creased.

“... and hardly anyone has thought to try talking to him?”

“Please, Sideswipe did nothing but talk to him before Sunstreaker and Ironhide dragged him away,” Ratchet scoffed, rolling his optics, “...And Prime.... he's a gentle giant, but still a giant. He was more intimidating than anything, and he couldn't stay long, regardless.”

Prowl frowned slightly.

"...And I suppose you've just been fussing over him in the most clinical manner you're capable of?" He said, unable to quell the slight edge to his tone.

“Oh, like you're the expert on bedside manner,” Ratchet snarked. Then he sighed heavily, hanging his head.

"Look-... you can lead someone to water, but you can't force them to drink it," he said, "... he wouldn't talk to prime, Ironhide or either of the twins, I doubt he'll talk to me. And if the kid doesn't wanna talk, I can't make him."

Prowl narrowed his optics briefly, but ultimately let out a heavy sigh, beside himself. He glanced down at the kid, who was watching Prowl and the conversation between him and Ratchet with weary but calculating optics, gaze flicking back and forth between the two mechs.

Prowl knelt down, so that he was no longer towering over him. He could only hope this would make the kid less intimidated.

"...Are you in much pain?" He asked quietly, slowly, not wanting to scare the kid even further by speaking suddenly.

The kid blinked at Prowl for a moment, scanning him up and down.

Then he bowed his head, optics turning downcast in thought. After a second, he sheepishly raised a servo, tilting it from side to side in a 'so-so' gesture. His movements were slow and quiet, like a side-effect of the sedation, but it was almost like a soldier's practised stealth, as well. someone used to being quiet and hiding, sneaking around.

Prowl noted the kid's quiet movements and expression, and suddenly he thought that he understood what the problem with getting along with the kid might be. This was a *Praxian,* after all, at least in a technical sense. And all Praxians, young and old, had a few things in common.

He was about to try asking again, when he paused. His optics traced over the mech's body, studying him.

"... You're still a bit too drugged, aren't you?" He commented, his voice soft as he could make it.

The kid stared at Prowl for a moment. Then he creased his optic ridge and turned his head away. The kid went to vent in, but he hid his face in the crook of his elbow instead, coughing up dust. After his coughing fit settled down, he hung his head, a pouty, sort of dejected expression on his faceplate as he rubbed his throat. After a second, he wrapped his arms back around his leg, resting his chin on his knee.

Prowl's optics flickered for a moment as he heard the kid's dry cough, noting the amount of dust on his frame. He'd been digging through rubble and dust for days, and probably hadn't had any fresh energon or a wash since then. The thought sent a jolt through Prowl, and a spark of unexpected anger rose in his spark. How could he have been so... ignorant?

"... When was the last time someone fed you anything?" He asked the kid, his voice suddenly sharp.

The kid flinched back at Prowl's tone, staring at him for a moment. There was a long moment of silence before the kid hung his head, optics downcast as he wrapped his arms around his torso. He curled in on himself slightly, another weak, dusty cough wracking his small frame as he shook his head.

Prowl’s circuits sizzled and a harsh glare formed on his faceplate. How long had the kid gone without fuel? Why had nobody thought to give him any?

“Jazz, go get some energon.”

The kid’s head perked up at Prowl’s sharper tone. He frowned softly, tilting his head in a puppy-like manner. His gaze flicked to Jazz, watching intently as the larger black and white Mech shuffled out of the room. Once Jazz was out of sight, his optics flicked back to Prowl, peering up at him.

Prowl sighed.

“I’ll bet you’re starving,” Prowl said, voice now as soft and… kind… as he could make it. He prayed he was hitting the tone right. This felt way out of his league.

The longer he was with this kid, the more Prowl wished he knew how to deal with kids that weren’t red, yellow and trashing everything they touched.

It didn’t help that this kid was one wrong move away from making a run –or, to be entirely honest, a hobble– for it, and if he slipped through their fingers now, they'd never get their hands on him again. Or that this kid was so drastically different from the two punks Prowl did know how to handle.

The kid just blinked at Prowl for a moment after his question, then hung his head, stubbornly silent. He placed a servo over his presumably empty fuel tank for a moment before letting his servos rest limply in his lap, gaze shifting between Prowl and Ratchet.

For the umpteenth time, Prowl sighed. Maybe he should’ve let Jazz handle this. He had a lot more patience for stubborn bots.

The kid went to vent again, but caught another hacking fit. He curled in on himself, burying his faceplate in the crook of his elbow as he coughed up more dust.

That was when Prowl noticed a weld line that went from the middle of his chassis to about halfway down his torso. It looked mildly messy, like it was done in a rush. It also looked fresh, as if it had been done recently.

Prowl bit back a curse, trying to keep the… concern…. Off his faceplate. His optic twitched as that incessant crackling sizzled through his circuits again.

Prowl vented heavily as Jazz shuffled up behind him, a few energon cubes in hand. Prowl gave his version of a smile as he took one of the cubes, slowly holding it out to the kid. An offering. If they fueled the kid, maybe he’d feel more inclined to trust them, and they could finally get some answers out of him.

Or so Prowl thought.

Because the kid just stared up at him with the same pitiful, pouty expression that seemed to be molded into his features. Then he let out a soft whine, pulling his uninjured leg closer as he gave another weak wheeze.

How was this kid even online? It made Prowl’s circuits crackle unpleasantly and he couldn’t stand it.

The kid wrapped his arms around his shin tightly, resting his head on his knee as he shut his optics tight, sensor wings low and limp against his back. Ratchet glanced up, letting out a pitiful sigh as he shook his head.

“... just hang in there, kid…” he mumbled, “...i just need a little more time to stabilise your ankle, then we can give you a proper diagnostic and flush out your systems.”

Prowl frowned at that. The kid had probably been wheezing and coughing since he came back online to earn that reaction from Ratchet. Prowl pursed his lips and, almost a little desperately, offered up the cube of energon to the kid again. All he got was the same pouty stare.

But then the kid’s optics flickered, and he slouched a little more, looking impossibly exhausted and ready to go offline right then and there. His frame shook with another wheeze. Prowl looked the kid over scrutinizingly, taking in all the cracks and dents and the energon stains on the medical berth beneath his foot.

“... how is he still conscious…” Prowl muttered, mostly to himself.

Ratchet had been about to speak, probably some snarky reply on the tip of his metal tongue, but he caught himself when the kid’s optics dimmed completely and flickered shut, his frame slumping against the wall. Jazz went to step forward, but Prowl raised a servo to stop him.

“Shit-” Ratchet sighed, “that answer your question?”

Despite the snark to his tone, Ratchet got up and checked the kids vitals, letting out a relieved vent. He paused, Optics fixing on the weld line Prowl had noticed earlier.

“Red Alert forgot to mention that…” Ratchet mumbled to himself. Then he shook his helm, optic ridges creasing.

“... he’s stable for now, but the internal damage is likely worse than I initially anticipated, and there’s no telling how long he’ll stay stable on an empty tank.”

Ratchet gently laid the kid down, taking the time to briefly examine him as he did so. Then he pulled a small monitor on a pole over with a hook on it. He grabbed a cord hanging from the monitor, clipping it to the inside of the kid’s wrist.

“Any idea how long he’ll be unconscious?” Prowl asked somewhat reluctantly.

“Until we get some energon in him, at least,” Ratchet said, “my guess is this is a low-fuel induced shutdown, and if that’s the case, the kid will stay offline until we get some fuel into his system.”

Prowl frowned.

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that? It’s not like we’re able to just pour it down his intake, if he’s offline.”

Ratchet sighed, scrubbing a servo down his faceplate. Then he noticed a supply cupboard and headed over it. He opened the cupboard and pulled out a large metal funnel with a small fixture at the bottom and a tube attached to it.

Ratchet headed back over to the kid and the monitor and fixed the funnel onto it, then he took the tube and clipped it into the kid’s wrist. Ratchet grabbed the energon cube from Prowl and poured some of the contents into the funnel. Ratchet watched intently as the bluish purple liquid began to filter through the tube and into the kid’s system.

“An energon drip,” Ratchet muttered, “... it’s not the most effective method of refuelling, but it’s the best we’ve got until the kid comes back online.”

Prowl nodded, watching the drip intently for a few minutes as everything fell quiet- mostly. The only noise for a while was the bustle and steady chatter of other medics and patients as Ratchet went back to working on the kid’s ankle. Prowl took the time to think, and hopefully put an end to that irritating crackle in his processor. He watched the kid with a creased optic ridge, once more taking in all the chips, scuffs, dents and cracks.

“... He’s so small…” Prowl commented despite himself. Ratchet sighed, the sound one of pity.

“I know. Especially for his age,” Ratchet murmured, “... my guess is stunted growth from a lack of nutrition and a lack of proper physical care over the years. Either that, or he’s a lot younger than I figure.”

Prowl frowned, falling silent once again, for a moment. He watched the energon drip for a moment before his gaze turned back to the kid.

“... how old do you think he is?” Prowl inquired. Ratchet frowned, scratching his nasal ridge briefly.

“Judging by the developmental stage of his frame, I'd say anywhere from 16-20,000?” Ratchet said uncertainly, “... he’s around the same age as the twins, regardless, but his size makes him seem like he should be a lot younger.”

Prowl nodded with a frown, letting that sink in for a klik.

The two lapsed back into silence for a moment before Ratchet let out a heavy ex-vent.

“... y’know what, I’m gonna take advantage of the kid being unconscious and actually get some work done on that ankle,” he said, shuffling around to take a seat near the kids pedes once more. Prowl nodded, watching the medic as he began to work again.

Everything else slowly faded into the background as the seconds ticked by while Prowl watched Ratchet work, and something warm filled Prowl’s spark at the thought this kid was finally getting the care he needed. But one question still stood, poking incessantly at the back of Prowl’s mind.

Who was he?

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