#Energon bread

[wavewavethoughtsonly]

you're Wavewave posts are the only thing keeping me going at this point.

When all else fails, Wavewave is there to cure my depression.

I’m glad my WaveWave nonsense makes you smile! In all seriousness depression is no joke and I pray you find the cure that works in the long run like I found mine. ❤️

On a sillier note, have some of Soundwave’s Shockbread. (Based off this scrappost)

Shockwave got distracted, leaving Soundwave’s minicons to eat his whole head overnight. Soundwave took the last slice.

[ss-shitstorm]

So I was reading the wiki page for Thundercracker (wfc) and turns out Starscream knows how to make space meth

the one-time Sky Commander revealed that there was very little Dark Energon left on the research station, but he knew how to manufacture more

it just reminded me of Breaking Bread lol

He Definitely knows more than he's saying

*sobbing* My man was pulling stinky-ass reductive animations before my planet had sentient life. Thank you for this.

[valacre]

: ̗̀➛ Step Inside My House

Optimus Prime x Reader - transformers prime

Fire roaring within the wood stove, you hum as the chill of the winter air is kept at bay, unable to penetrate the walls of your cosy home. Lights abundant, both living and wishful copies, stay scattered throughout your living room, be they long with dripping wax, or solid pillars steadily burning or artificially flickering. Many are positioned close to your desk, papers and handmade letters scattered throughout in preparation, wax seals a mess.

For a moment there is the sound of a gentle roar outside. You glance up at the window by the countertop, hands stalling in their work of kneading the dough, but see nothing amiss across the snowclad land outside.

Shrugging, you continue your work.

And then there was a knock at your door, quickly followed by another… then another. They were careful, barely there initially, as if afraid of being too rough, but after the third knock, they grew more confident; assured that your door wouldn’t shatter like glass. You set the dough away, allowing it a moment’s rest; letting it rise in preparation for becoming bread.

“Coming!” you called, glancing outside as you ventured towards the entryway. It is dark, the stars shining upon the sky, the snow-covered trees leaning slightly from the weight upon them. Who in the world could be at your door now? You expected no visitors.

You glanced at the winding stairs as you neared the front door, knowing you had an old cane you could use as a weapon in case someone malevolent was outside, but it was within your bedroom, and it’d take you a moment to reach it.

Hesitating, you look out the narrow window beside the doorway, nearly jumping out of your skin in pure shock and disbelief. Now hurrying, you unlock the door and fling it open, almost sending it crashing into the figure who stood by its front.

“Optimus!” you say, voice laced with awe as your breath turns to mist in the frigid winter air. “How—You’re small!” Smaller, much smaller than what he is, but still towering over you. “What!? This is amazing!” say you, now gushing and looking him all over, eyes wide with wonder.

Optimus shifts on his pedes, smiling a little as you admired him, though you seemed unable to notice it yourself lest you would have turned cherry red long ago, your lovely bashfulness ever difficult to overcome.

“Up until now we did what we could to preserve our energon reserves as much as possible, but with our recent finds of smaller mines, we finally have enough for a long while,” said he, explaining it although you weren’t listening to him, far too busy taking in every detail of his smaller frame. His spark fluttered, and his digits twitched. “I wished to surprise you.”

“You did! I am!” you say, laughing and grinning from ear to ear as you swing the door wide open. “Come in! Oh my gosh! You can come inside my home,” you say, bouncing on the spot as you step back. “Watch your head—oh, and there’s a lamp hanging right inside—ah, yeah, you got it.”

He’s careful as he comes through your doorway, the warmth of your home embracing him as he closes the door behind him, wonderment flooding throughout him as he takes in the sight of your entryway and the stairs leading up; steps too narrow for his pedes to walk upon, though he wouldn’t entirely trust the wood to hold him either.

His helm turns quickly towards you as your small hand touches his arm; fascinated.

“I can’t believe it. You’re…” nearly lost for breath, you look up at him, eyes sparkling, making him wish he could drown in them. “You’re lovely.”

Bashfulness seems to have disappeared completely with the arrival of your awe, so, for now, it is he who feels his face plate flush with warmth and his spark pulse almost painfully; wishing to emerge so it could bond with you this instant. Reaching out he takes your hand in his, holding it tenderly within his servo; its softness never fails to fill him with amazement.

“And so are you, my spark,” says he, leaning down a little as his free servo encircles your waist; so delicate and warm. Had he been Orion Pax, then his resistance would not have been so strong, but he mustn't hold back long for you reach up, cradling his helm as you bring your lips to his, kissing him with all the warmth and love you could muster, and he, too gladly, reciprocates with all of his might; relieved to finally have you again, the itch in his digits vanishing.

There is a single ding, light and clear, and you part from him though you laugh in surprise as he chases your lips, kissing you again and feeling embarrassed at his eagerness but he didn’t wish for this to end so soon. His servo lets go of your hand but only to reach up and hold the back of your head, bringing you closer to him as he deepens the kiss, emboldened by the way your body moulds to his own; a puzzle piece finally finding its home.

The kiss you’d shared upon the lake had been the crack that made the dam break. Although he was feeling a little flustered by himself, Optimus could not truly make himself retreat, not until your hands came to hold his helm, sighing into the kiss, before again leaning back; two fingers coming to cover his mouth, teasing him.

“I must prepare the dough for the oven,” you said, alien words not coming through Optimus’ lovesick processor. You giggle, the sound so lovely it makes his optics flash for a second. “I’m baking, Optimus. Preparing food, if you will. You can come and see if you want?”

The offer brings him back to reality and he steps back, releasing his hold on you as he leans back up again, face plate slightly flushed.

“I apologise for my lack of control, y/n,” he said, cooling fans just barely heard in the background, though you show him mercy and do not comment on them. “Please, show me your home.”

Grinning, you turn and head towards the door at the end of the hallway, passing by another to your left. Optimus follows, peeking into the one you’d passed to see your living room, lights flickering from candles and the wood stove alike; cosy and warm, with furniture and decorations filling the space perfectly. He spared but a single moment to notice your desk, feeling curious about the work you clearly were doing there, but filing to ask you later as he instead followed you through the doorway that led into your kitchen.

Yellow accented, it smells wonderfully, small as it might be. You’re eager as you show him what you’ve been doing, what you’ve done, and how it all will finish as you prepare the dough and set it inside the oven; setting a timer for when the bread shall be finished. Mundane tasks of everyday life, something you do every week, but Optimus loves it all, the peaceful existence of an equally peaceful life.

It reminds him of the danger you’d been put into simply for having been at the wrong place at the wrong time, and now you were unable to just exist as you have, having to come to the base on at least a weekly visit.

“Don’t look so glum all of a sudden,” you say, flicking some water at him as you finish washing your hands. It succeeds in surprising him, and you laugh at his wide-eyed expression. “Sorry, I just had to force you out of your thoughts. You have a way of drifting into the negative when surrounded by comfort, you know?”

Did he know? Had you learned to read him so well that you noticed it right away?

Entranced, he accepted the kitchen towel from you, wiping away the droplets of water you’d flicked his way. This… This made it feel as if you both were living here, joking around as you prepared a hearty meal to share. He wished he could eat it with you.

“Your home is wonderful,” said he, following you into the living room through a second connected door in the kitchen. Ducking to avoid hitting his helm, he steps across wooden floorboards, the creaks concerning him, but you wave a hand in dismissal.

“The floor upstairs creaks when I walk on it too. It’s an old house, they do that all the time,” you say, sitting down on the sofa and petting the spot next to you. “Don’t worry, it’ll hold you.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

Only when he’s sat down, encouraged to relax as you drape a woollen blanket across his lap, does his spark almost leap out of his chassis as you sit yourself onto his lap, too. Cuddling close to him, legs resting against the free seat of the sofa, you smile as you rest your cheek against his neck cables, your hair tickling him.

“This okay?” you ask.

He responds by holding around you, bringing you a little closer, leaning his helm to rest against the top of your head, the light of the wood stove draping you both in a comforting embrace. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, far too overcome by emotions, so he simply holds you and you return to hold him, kissing his neck cables before you sigh; relaxing.

For a single moment in his long life, Optimus allows himself to pretend that the war does not exist, that this is where he belongs and should remain until the end of his life, for it is soft, and it is warm, and it is where you are. It is here he wishes to remain, frozen in time, but even knowing that it must eventually end, he finds himself not caring too much, for he is grateful; and he is happy.

Previous / Next Music: The Planets, Op. 32: II. Venus, The Bringer of Peace

[blueskyscribe]

Headcanon: reasons for the Iacon 5000

Sentinel Prime likes watching the race and he is not going to deny himself anything he wants, the whole point of taking over was to live like a king

2. Bread and circuses: it keeps the masses happy and compliant to have something to distract them. And it is working, even the miners idolize Sentinel.

3. It's dangerous, which means some Transformers will die, which means less energon will be needed for the city. (But tbh I think Sentinel would want it to be deadly regardless, for the thrill.)

[mk-wizard]

Cybertronian Foods Take 1

And here is my take on Cybertronian foods. The baking edition. Note that the following is fanmade. I love cooking so I had a lot of fun. I know it all looks geometric, but that is because I imagine their food is so because they're robotic aliens.

1- Nitro-cream - It is basically ice cream. The basic flavor is vanilla beam (yes I spelled it "beam" on purpose).

2- Cake - Yes, they have cake though it tends to have have the same consistency as gems. This is ruby velvet (Optimus' favourite flavor which Elita is famous for making).

3- Atomic Pie - A southern staple. Often served a la mode with nitro cream. It's their version of apple pie.

4- Energon Goodie - They are basically cookies. This one is a silver chip goodie which is the equivalent of a chocolate chip cookie as silver is chocolate to Transformers.

5- Bismuth Pudding - Looks like a gem, but it has a soft gelatinous and creamy texture. It's popular among children.

6- Doughnuts - Their take is more like an actual nut. This one is salted gold. On Cybertron, gold is the equivalent of caramel.

7- Muffin - Hey, muffins are a basic thing and come in a variety of flavor. Copper bran is the most popular flavor.

8- Bread - They look like bars of copper, but when you cut them or break them, they are fluffy inside.

9- Charcoal & Waffles - Another southern staple. Charcoal strips that are deep fried to a golden brown and then placed on top of a lovely fresh fluffy waffle and then topped off with homemade jaem.

10 - Tincakes - Cybertronian pancakes which are typically served with botter and tar syrup.

[tinydefector]

Hello, I love your writing and would like to send in a request.

I was baking earlier and was wondering…

How would (any)Optimus prime cope with learning how to bake. Like he saw gn reader baking and was wondering how they were doing it and asked how

Idk I thought it was cute. I can’t bake the most I can make is banana bread.

Have a good day/noon/night

Remember to drink some water, eat somthing and stretch!

Optimus masterlist

I believe Optimus would find it highly fascinating to watch and learn to bake with you. There isn't much he can do without mass displacement shifting or being in holoform, but he does enjoy watching you make little sweets. Does try to help bake, but this bot is not made to cook or be in a kitchen. DO NOT let him hear a stove he can and 2ill burn water. Despite his fascination with human cooking, he is safer just watching if you don't want your baking burnt. It reminds him of back when he was an enforcer/ archivist ( depends on what continuation you fancy) alot of the cakes you make remind him of some of the small Energon and Electrum jellies that he used to love very much.

He is rather interested in the process that goes into making baked goods and how different things added make a very different flavour, such as the difference between caramel and butterscotch. But most of all, watching you bake makes him miss Iacon and cybertron. He misses his office from before the way. He misses his stash of energon jelly and rust sticks. It actually makes him go to Wheel-Jack of all bots to see if it was possible to remake some of the Lost cybertron food cultures. You make him want to try making some of the things he misses,

[musicalmedli]

A Celebratory Trap - Part 2

a/n: Wow. I didn’t expect this much reaction to this piece. I hope this part is just as good. Chapters will be short. This was just a short idea, nothing too big. However, I am glad that you are liking it.

Part 2

Optimus asked for you to follow him. First, he made sure one of his Autobots went to the main hangar to retrieve some clothing and food before addressing you to follow him back down the corridor. It was only when he hit the panel next a large doorway did it hit that he was leading you back to his private quarters.

“Take a seat.”

Optimus gestured into his quarters with a large servo. The furniture was a little large for you, but you walked over to the only one that was reasonable for you to climb. Luckily, Optimus dropped a servo for you to climb on.

It was roughly fifteen minutes when a knock echoed through the room.

“Enter,” called out Optimus.

The door slid open. Arcee stepped in with clothing and food. She approached the berth and sat it down. Arcee nodded to Optimus before she disappeared back out, the door closing behind her.

“You can dress and eat. I will turn to give you privacy.”

Your eyes widen before you nodded watching as Optimus stood and turned, putting his back to you. You quickly dropped the blanket and pulled on the top pieces of clothing followed by the bottom pieces. You wrapped the blanket around yourself once more due to the small chill before sitting down.

The food was a bowl of soup, some bread, and a mug of water. You quickly started eating just as Optimus turned to see you. He nodded before walking to the door once more, his black digit coming to his helm, most likely to call one of his Autobots.

Ironhide stood outside quickly handing Optimus a cube of energon. You watched as Prime nodded to the weapon specialist before the door slid shut, the panel turning red meaning that is locked to anyone outside the room.

Optimus walked back to you sipping his cube as you bit down on a piece of bread. You could tell that he wasn’t in a mood to discuss what happened last night especially since last night turned out to be a trap. Not sure where the trap was located, but it turned out to be a pretty nasty trap.

“Optimus, are you going to explain what happened?” You asked as you picked up the mug of water and took a few sips.

Optimus took a few more sips of his cube before sitting it down and turning towards you. “It’s complicated and probably easier if we start from the beginning on how it all happened.”

“Okay,” you said as I sit the mug of water down.

Optimus walks over and sits down upon the ground gazing at you, optic-to-eye level. He vented deeply before curling his servo.

“It was too easy, but… I don’t know, maybe I was desperate to believe.”

You tipped your head to the side, “You had a past history with Megatron, so I can see why.”

Optimus raised his optical ridges before shaking his head, a chuckle rumbling from deep within. “A past history? Hmm. Yes, we did have a history, one that started out so good before going wrong in so many directions.”

“You were happy to see him,” you stated softly.

Optimus nodded.

“Yes. It was like he was never lost. When the comm came in requesting that I meet at these coordinates, I was positive it was going to be a trap, another fight, another Cybertronian lost because we were at war.”

“It wasn’t,” you stated softly.

Optimus shook his helm.

“No, it wasn’t. Megatron stood at the coordinates. He had energon cubes with him. He promised more along with a datapad with coordinates to Cybertronian relics, Iacon relics from ancient past. He said he was tired of the war and wanted me back.”

“I bet you were relieved.”

“I was,” responded Optimus. “It was different when I was Orion Pax, but I still remembered him. He didn’t change frame like I did. It felt good to be with him. I could have laid in the afterglow with him if it wasn’t for what he offered and asked for.”

You blinked your eyes a few times before furrowing your brows.

“You and Megatron, you were lovers?”

Optimus’ optics widen before he nodded. “A long time ago, yes when I was Orion Pax. This was before Elita-One and I bonded and the betrayal he did.”

“Wow. I guess I can understand why it was a complete shock.”

“It was. When I brought Megatron back to the base with a few of his top Decepticons, it took a few talking to convince everyone that Megatron had changed.”

You started laughing as a memory popped up from last night.

“Bumblebee was the one who made the joke when he said that Megatron could be trusted. I don’t know what joke he made but everyone laughed and accepted Megatron.”

Optimus shook his helm.

“Cybertronians can tell when one has interfaced. Bee is a young Bot. Still, it helped.”

You smiled at Optimus knowing that the memories at least were good even if the outcome became a trap. Your eyes drop to your hands as they sat in your lap, your food finished as you pushed the tray away. You were still curious, though. How did you end up in the situation you were in this morning: alone in Optimus’ quarters with just a blanket on.

“I am taking that my part in this is coming up?” you asked softly as you looked up at Optimus.

Optimus nodded, “Not till later in the evening, but yes.”

You looked up at Optimus with a nervous appearance upon your face, “Optimus, what did I actually do?”

The way Optimus glanced over at you before turning to look down at his servos made your eyes widen and soft gasp to escape your lips. Whatever it was that you did, it must have disappointed him to the point that it was hard for him to even look at you. You swallowed hard as you waited for him to continue the story on what happened that night.

[cozzzynook]

Rodimus giving birth and feeling something is wrong. There's so much blood and his little one isn't coming out. Ratchet ends up breaking his leg to get their sparkling out.

-Bread.

This ask took so long because I wanted it to be one of the best things I could go back and read. I wanted this to be long.

-

Carrying was…both a beautiful and difficult thing.

The beauty in this was growing a life in his forge tanks that was combined of his own cna and his partners Drift and Ratchet.

The two were conjunx and he was their partner they planned on conjunxing, though he had plenty doubts of being conjunx to them or it lasting long since he was more than a few servo fulls. The two immediately rejected such ideals and told him to get those thoughts from his processor.

Try as he might to hide this insecurity and fear getting sparked made it impossible to do so. He had no choice but to work on the unrelenting pressure that was his thoughts and feelings. And it was all thanks to the result of a glowing orange bio fluid that covered the small pipe rod that he slipped into his valve and rested on the edges of his gestation tank that led directly to his forge.

The glowing light meant one thing and one thing only.

He was sparked.

His frame was so heavy and tired because it no longer worked for only himself but another life that was steadily growing and forming inside him. Made up of Ratchets cna and transfluid and Drifts energon and spark energy.

Truly the bitlet had a mix of all these things from each of them. But he always deep dived the intricacies of it this way. It felt more romantic, more connecting, this way.

He was not as connected during his first few weeks of knowing as he was now.

The first few days he was in denial and determined each of the eighteen tests he took were all flukes.

Then he moved onto the stage of sobbing his fragging optics out and getting angry punching his desk while static bubbles caught his windpipe because he didn’t think they’d want a sparkling and he knows he’s a mess he doesn’t want another person fragged up because of it. Bad enough his now courting conjunx had to deal with it, he didn’t want to burden a fresh new spark with himself too.

Of course Drift found him crying in the lower decks during the dead shift.

Rodimus snuck from berth because he was now hungry and couldn’t recharge without eating.

He hated how he gave in so easily to the cravings, consuming energon just the way Ratchet liked it while eating thick and bitter shaved metals, one of Drifts favorite snacks.

The mech took one look at him as he was crying on the floor eating and put it together so fast Rodimus didn’t have time to sniffle twice or blink the tears away.

Drifts reaction was a helm turner because he was immediately so happy and excited at having a sparkling to being completely concerned about Rodimus and what he wanted.

…he ended up crying into Drifts shoulders while eating because he was still sad and worried while so happy Drift accepted their sparkling but he was also still incredibly hungry and wanted more fuel.

Thats how Ratchet found them half an hour later.

Drift smiling at Rodimus like he had a bolt loose while Rodimus was blubbering as he fueled.

Ratchets processor was still sharp as ever so he could understand what Rodimus was saying pretty well and all things considered he handled the news fairly well.

Did he have to sit down in shock?

Yes.

But did he pull Rodimus and Drift into a tight hug before something clicked in his helm and he was berating Rodimus for keeping it hidden for so long and immediately ran diagnostics on Rodimus calling him a sparked bolt brain?

Yes.

It made Rodimus’s blubbering heavier but it was a good heavy all things considered.

After that Rodimus was never alone seeing as Ratchet or Drift or both mechs were continuously glued to his side.

In the day during his shift Rodimus was with either Drift or Ratchet who stayed next to him on the bridge. If it was after his shift he went to the medbay with Ratchet or the training room with Drift. He hardly spent time by himself save for napping in berth when he didn’t feel like being around either of them or felt a burden. He would not admit a third option of not being able to stay awake because his frame was heavy and tired and his optics would close on their own. He refused to admit such a thing.

Not that he would need to anyway.

Ratchet and Drift knew by how hard he now slept and how often he’d fall into recharge in the middle of watching tv, while sitting for longer than a few kliks, in the wash racks when they took baths together or when he was almost done fueling.

Ratchet and Drift thought they were hilarious putting his fuel or metals under his olfactory sensors and watching him start to eat while still asleep just before waking up and yawning.

That annoyed him every time and he still wishes he could pretend to choke just so they’d stop.

He didn’t want to endanger his sparkling so he didn’t but he really wanted to scare them and get his own laugh. So he decided pranking them in a different way would be better.

It took some patience, quite a bit actually their species carry for a very very long time, but he did it. He got the two back when he was almost a month away from emergence.

He needed their help getting up since he was so big he couldn’t see his own pedes anymore let alone a wide space of the floor in front of him.

The two didn’t ever complain about having to lift him but they did grunt from the strain.

The first few times made him angry at nothing and everything but after that it just made him cry. Another thing he finds himself doing as he looks back.

The prank he played didn’t require tears per se but they did require a real enough facial expression of pain.

Something he did almost perfectly when he stood up and used expired easy clean up energon to pretend his forge fluid broke and that the sparkling was coming.

The look on both their face plates was a memory he couldn’t wait to share with their bitty and a memory that made him almost pee himself with how hard he laughed.

Making it to the bathroom doesn’t count as peeing on one’s self. Ratchet was completely wrong about that just like he was wrong about his assumptions moments that felt and were long ago.

It was mid afternoon when he woke from a surprise nap he didn’t feel coming. He yawned, stretched his arms a tad, shifted uncomfortably with great effort and looked around the room as he felt cramps tangling his tanks.

His forge felt lower and heavier than before and his sparkling was wiggling in an odd position they’ve never done before.

He thought something was off but he didn’t want to raise alarm and it was nothing so he kept himself on guard for anything else strange and decided to get up and waddle around.

Maybe his sparkling just needed some exercise?

Whatever it was he hoped he was doing the right thing.

Getting up took a lot of effort and since Drift was on shift and Ratchet was probably in the medbay he had to get up himself. It proved as challenging as he thought it would and after five minutes he gave up.

His lower back struts were beginning to hurt and his hips were aching from the strain while internally punishing him. He could feel pain strike across his tanks but he’s been feeling that for a while so he’s figuring it was false pulses again.

He was ready to start tearing up at being stuck and immobile when he heard pede steps and Ratchet came into the berthroom.

“Kid? Ya alright?”

Ratchet had an optic ridge raised as he looked him over and he sighed in relief, holding his hands out with an apologetic look Ratchet told him to quit with.

“Yer sparked kid, of course ya need help and I’m old but not that old,” his conjunx growled out, a lot less grumpy than usual.

“Sorry Ratch,” he laughed a tad breathless once standing at an awkward angle to get some comfort. The pain felt like it was growing and the locations were both normal and odd compared to what Ratchet and the books told him.

He was starting to wonder if something was really wrong when he felt the sudden urge to empty his waste tanks.

He hissed, holding his heavy and definitely low tanks as he bent forward, deeply venting as he attempted to ground himself in the pain while Ratchet asked what was wrong with panic in his voice.

He decided to voice his concerns to Ratchet but before he could his modesty panels opened on their own and he felt his waste and forge tanks release themselves without his permission and he gasped from both shock, embarrassment and pain.

“Oh frag, yer in labor kid. Alright, they’re a tad early but this is completely normal and safe. What I want you to do is breathe for me kid, can ya do that?”

He nodded his helm as he remained bent over holding Ratchet’s servo as he called First aid to prep the medbay for emergence and then called Drift who yelled so loud Rodimus could hear it.

The mech got an earful from Ratchet who was helping him slowly waddle towards the wash racks to clean himself off since emergence took a while and he didn’t want him sitting in his own waste, neither did Rodimus, as they waited for Drift to speed inside.

Ratchet was talking to help him stay grounded as they got inside their large bath tub that had room for four mechs when Drift came panting in the door way.

“Bout time ya got here,” Ratchet grouched playfully as he let Drift hold Rodimus up who was still in pain that seemed to only be growing with every passing minute.

“Ratty, it took me less than three minutes and I was on the other side of the ship. Cut me some slack like Roddy. You breathing alright Roddy?”

Drift’s words would’ve been soothing and comforting if not for the steady pain that was becoming so unbearable he grit his denta and now Drifts servo.

“Roddy?”

He felt something drop inside him and with it his knee struts.

Drift caught him at an odd angle but kept him from hitting the ground as Ratchet rushed over to scan him.

“Kid!”

He felt something burning within his tanks and inside his valve that didn’t at all feel like the description he read about in the books and felt the need to push but couldn’t because something felt wrong and his spark knew not to do anything.

But everything hurt so much and it felt like he was on fire from the inside as he felt the weight pressing against his valve tighten and constrict before wiggling and he felt his optics flicker making his vision black as he realized he was screaming in intense pain that momentarily blacked him out.

He was on his back in the water with Drift holding him up bracing him on both sides of his stabilizers while Ratchet looked worried as he felt around his valve and tried to put a servo inside him only for it to be blocked.

“Frag!”

Rodimus felt his spark drop at the loud curse and he screamed gripping Drifts servo at the next pulse that felt worse than the last.

He felt his tanks constrict and something pushed against his hip making him scream out in agony as something moved the wrong way against his internals, hip mesh and valve making it feel like it would rip.

It took five kliks for the pulse to end and by that time he struggled to open his optics and hear what Ratchet was trying to tell him.

“Listen to me kid. This is gonna hurt bad, real bad but its the only way I can make the pain go away and get our sparkling here and keep you alive. I promise, you will be fine after this,” Ratchet promised for all their sakes.

Rodimus understood what he was saying but another pulse came and he tightened his grip almost crushing Drift’s servo but the mech just comforted him and braced him for what he knew was coming.

“Okay kid, on the count of three yer gonna be in extreme pain but Drift’s gonna run you to the medbay where we can fix ya and the sparkling, alright love?”

He sobbed and nodded his helm.

The pain was making his spark hurt and he wanted to comfort Ratchet who never used that name unless he was scared but he couldn’t.

He was just so hot and hurting he couldn’t do anything but try to breathe.

“One,” Ratchet was tense and making optic contact with Drift who felt terrified but had to trust Ratchet, “two,” Rodimus felt a pulse coming on and grit his teeth groaning at the pain as he felt it pass after seven kliks. His frame growing weak as he noticed the glowing life energon in the water.

“Three!”

He felt Ratchet’s servo shoot and wiggle inside his valve and push what he realized was their sparkling back and he smashed his other palm down on the center of his hip and yanked it outward before pulling their sparkling out.

He wailed in agony from the sudden onslaught of pain that wouldn’t grant him the empathy of blacking out.

He stayed awake wailing from the nano klik Ratchet broke his hip to free their sparkling that was stuck to the nano klik he was being laid on the medberth and given powerful sedatives that almost failed to cut through his pain.

The very first thing he saw when he woke was Ratchet and Drift curled up on either side of him while two tiny bundles laid on his chassis.

He woke them with his crying as he touched along their delicate mesh face plates, feeling their dermas, olfactory sensors, optic ridges and the softest part of their closed optics that began to twitch and flicker from his touches as a tiny arm cane up and tried to move him.

They had all their digits and Drifts frame type with his claws.

Their helms had finials just like Drift but they had Ratchets optic color and shape. They even had his scowl which made Rodimus laugh the two sires awake.

They worried over him, Ratchets love language of fussing came full force as he told Rodimus he should’ve woken him immediately while not really meaning it as he checked him over.

Drift helped make it easy for him to hold the twin sparklings that had Ratchets mesh coloring and biolights.

He felt sad they didn’t get anything from him and he was the one who did the hard part, how unfair.

“Beautiful,” he cried, careful not to move since his frame was in a mess of pain and still healing. It would be for a long time Ratchet explained.

The sparklings dropped together and were coming out together which is why it felt so wrong and hurt so much and how they got stuck.

Turns out one mech was hiding behind the other and in true split spark fashion they had the same spark beat down to the last detail almost.

Its easy to miss and thats why no one saw the other or could tell.

He smiled, kissing both their helms.

“You sure made an entrance,” he joked.

Drift and Ratchet weren’t as thrilled by his joke and truthfully he was riding on carrier after emergence high. By the evening or next day he would be a traumatized mess.

But for now, he just wanted to enjoy being with his conjunxs and sparklings.

Primus knows he won’t be doing this again.

[a-sad-mage]

Since the universe that slugterra is in has magic and is therefore just objectively not the same as our own, do you think the surface has its own kind of magic? The deep caverns seem to have an inherently corruptive magic/energy. Hypothetically if it was just corruptive then the dark bane wouldn’t have their own magical powers nor would ghouls get a power boost, they’d just be corrupt but physically/magically equal. So I figure the deep caverns have their own energy source on top of the corruptive powers. Slugterra seems to have the most neat and balanced magic, split into elements and shared across the slugs. There are exceptions like the lava monster, but overall it’s contained. We don’t really see…anything of the surface. That’s not to say there’s nothing there though.

I like to think that there is magic up there, and from what Eli has said, the magic has no slugs to sort into, at least not the same as slugterra. Instead, I think that any/all surface magic is somehow blurred and almost unknowable. It is there, the sun/stars, moon/planets (Earth having magic and providing it to slugterra and the deep caverns), and maybe the void of space itself having magic. All of these celestial bodies/qualities are impossibly old, impossibly powerful, and almost impossible to harness.

The only reason it is harnessable in the deep and slugterra are because the magic there is essentially a drop in the ocean that the earth has to offer as a planet. If you merged the deep caverns magic with slugterras, you’d entropy into basically surface magic, the “destruction” of slugterra by letting the deep caverns up would be more of an ecological catastrophe than a physical one. The caverns and the magic would still be there, but the merging of the magics would destroy the slugs (and maybe by extension the dark bane and the shadow clan? Hence why the darkbane seem so focused on the sun and getting topside. To learn the new magic and assure their victory regardless of changing magic). We’ve just only seen it on a tiny tiny scale so no one realises what the consequences will be, they just assume slugterra would become deep caverns 2 electric boogaloo.

Hypothetically one could harness surface magic. And maybe people do? I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but to have such rich magic in the universe and have it all be completely contained to an underground society seems like a missed opportunity to explore the magic system.

This is kind of just built on a headcannon that the lightwell just uses sunlight. And since surface magic is more of an unknowable amalgamation rather than being split into distinct elements/having an innate nature like the deep caverns, the sheer energy and power of the sun can recharge any slug of any element.

Sorry for the massive rant. I just like magic and it’s been buzzing in my brain for so long lol

DONT APOLOGIES MASIVE RANTS ARE MY BREAD AND BUTTER!

idk by but I get massive Transformers Prime vibes in terms of the magic system.

if you never watched TP, the gist of it is that there is a kind of magic in terms of like, the Allspark, Dark Energon and a few other things, but those magic elements can be explained and harnessed with sciences as well. (very complicated all things considered and i am not smart enough to explain more lmao)

In 'Bullseye' it is reveled Slug Energy in the key to Slugterra, without it, everything in the caverns die.

so, going off that, the magic of Slugterra is Slug Energy, both positive, and negative.

and that energy isn't just limited to the Slugs, Dark Bane, or the Shadow Clan, but the residents of the Caverns as well, they all got a little magic in them, just not as potent, and requires years of training to tap into on a grand scale. Hence when everyone got leached in 'It Comes By Night' no one died, they just had their energy, their magic taken, leaving them sluggish and despondent still their energy was returned.

as for Surface magic, I think it would be lesser then the magic in Slugterra? idk, I guess i think it's because there isn't much connecting them to the Caverns other than being right on top of them. But I guess magic could seep through and affect people and things topside.

all speculation though! I've never really thought about the magic of Slugterra all that much, so this is something to stew on, But the idea of the Lightwell being 'sun/celestial magic' is intriguing! and the fact Surface magic is more astrological/celestial in nature compared to the more nature/earth magic of Slugterra, is fascinating.

the idea of Slugterra running off a mix of science and magic is a cool idea that should be explored more!

[just-jetfire]

Okay- I had some time to recharge! I'll happily share a head cannon that's been cooking for my own configuration of Skyfire/Jetfire /pos

It's very loose and a small thing but I think about him actually being some form of squishy soft compared to other bots... Not too squishy, but still good enough to knead or press a hand against and it'll give a bit, like a couch cushion or foam /silly But let go and it'll go back to it's regular shape.

I like to dabble some "logic" into it by having it be some kind of highly engineered impact resistant armor? With some really weird oobleck ass reaction to getting thonked with a small object, that thang would ricochet perhaps maybe leave a dent, but wouldn't bother him too much /silly

This is 100% an excuse to turn him into the biggest and best cosmic loaf of bread ever. I also think other bot's reactions to it would be very amusing, the wide-optic stare of confusion you'd get if you ate a table or something, over the fact this guy isn't all hard plated that they're used to other bots being. Illegal second option /j Feel free to branch off!

I loveeee squishy Skyfire headcanons!!! I have one of my own where he has a bit of a tummy due to shuttles requiring more energon storage resulting in storage in excess protoform which is usually protected by detachable armour

I love the oobleck logic to yours!

[anon-e-miss]

A Tough of Sight - 9

Somehow, Prowl lost all concept of time. They lingered at the lunch table. The soup Punch had served a crusty loaf of energon bread to dip in it, was rich and flavourful. Prowl could not think of a time where he had tasted better fuel. It was simpler fare than he had been served in the palace and superior in every way. Perhaps his regular diet of cheap cubes had dulled his pallet but he did not believe that to be the case. Punch’s cooking was not about impressing his betters, it was about fuelling and comforting the mechanisms he fed. Bluestreak did a happy wiggle as he ate the soup and Prowl smiled as Smokescreen snickered. Though Prowl could not see Bluestreak’s face, his doorwings did not have the sensors for such fine detail, he could see his shape, see the cant of his doorwings and Prowl new he was enjoying his meal.

“Such a sweetspark,” Punch praised Bluestreak. “Did ya wanna help me wit the tapestry ‘m weavin’? O’ course ya won’t wreck it, Bitlet.”

“Bluestreak has never taken so easily to any mech,” Prowl told Jazz as he stayed at the table as Jazz cleared it.

“Except for you, Creator,” Smokescreen corrected him.

“It was really more you he was taken with, Smokescreen,” Prowl told his creation. “He was quite terrified me when you brought him to me. In fairness to him, I could not have been pleasant to look at.”

“How’d ya find Bitty Blue, Smokey?” Jazz asked. Prowl’s sparked fluttered in a funny way. It would have been unheard of for anyone to be so familiar with Smokescreen, even Prowl had been to free in their interactions. They were sweet pet-designations.

“I was looking for medicine for Creator,” Smokescreen explained. Prowl listened to the harmonics in Smokescreen’s voice, ready to hush him and to warn the Lord Inquisitor off but Smokescreen’s voice was clear and strong. “Creator doesn’t complain but he was in so much pain and he was running a fever ‘cause the burns were infected. He was resting and I wasn’t supposed to go far... but I did. I heard running energon. We hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in... forever it felt like... I thought it would help, maybe. I followed the sound into a cave. I found Bluestreak all alone sitting on the far side of an underground river. Everything before that had been scorch but the river must have stopped it because everything on his side was... perfect.”

“How long were the three o’ ya travellin’ alone for?” Jazz asked.

“A quartex,” Prowl replied. “I think. We stumbled upon a refugee camp.”

“They tried to chase us off,” Smokescreen had a sneer in his voice.

“They were scared,” Prowl hushed him.

“You were hurt,” Smokescreen countered.

“I was not the only one,” Prowl replied.

No, Prowl had not been the only injured mechanism in the camp. The stench of infection had been been everywhere Prowl had turned. There had only been one mechanism in camp with any training in first aid, a farmer’s creation who had learned to tend the ills of the sheepacron they had raised. With smoke still hanging heavy in the air, it had kept the odour of rotting sentio-metallico from fading. There had been no solvent, no coolant and no clear source of energon. Prowl had taken the mechlings away from camp in search of a few breaths of clean air. He had almost missed the faint tinkle of the wiluite they walked past. His audials and doorwings had not been so well tuned then and he had felt blindly along the ground for a while before uncovering a cluster of crystals under the broken root of a fallen tree. Another survivor had found a creek and between the two pumices and tisanes had been brewed and more of the wounded had survived thanks to these interventions than otherwise might have.

“I learned I could find crystals blind,” Prowl explained. “I did not plan to forage for our living but I learned quickly that begging is a dangerous way to try and survive. Traffickers tried to buy the mechlings from me and I knew I had to do something else lest one of these monsters snatch them from me when my guard was down. I trained my doorwings and my audials to guide my servos. We do not prosper but we do well.”

“I can see clear as crystal how well ya take care o’ these two,” Jazz said. “Ya must o’ had Blue seen by a medic.”

“There is no physical cause to his mutism,” Prowl explained. “And so nothing for them to treat. Often, even his servos are mute, his doorwings usually are. I do not know precisely what he saw but I know it was a horror because that is the story all Praxians share. Every time he becomes a little surer of his “voice” something spoils it. I am amazed at how well he has bounced back this time.”

“This time?”

“The teacher at the temple screamed at him for not answering,” Smokescreen explained. “He knew Blue doesn’t talk but he thought we were making excuses and making him weak. I got in his face and he hit me. See? You can see the scar. Fixit said it’ll probably disappear since I’m young and healthy.”

“Did ya report the slagsucker?” Jazz asked, his tone dark and foreboding as he looked over Smokescreen’s servo. He did not apologize for his crass language. Prowl elected not to scold him.

“The medic I called did,” Prowl replied. “The priest we spoke to at the Cornerstone took issue as well. I believe the cur will be disciplined.”

“Good,” Jazz said. “If they leave anythin’ for me, I might put some licks in o’ my own.”

“You do not need to trouble yourself,” Prowl replied.

“Ain’t trouble,” Jazz replied. “Scrappin’ bullies is a pleasure.”

Prowl imagined Jazz meant it. He knew the duties of the Lord Inquisitor did not end at operating a spy network and he doubted Jazz prioritized keeping his servos cleaning when enemies were revealed, either from within Iacon or beyond its borders. The Optics of Praxus had not been so different, though Prowl could not picture Camshaft walking through markets to recruit his agents, Praxus chief spy had bloodied his servos when the situation called for it. Prowl had lived his whole life under the watchful gaze of hundreds of spies, both those employed by the Optics and those employed by any number of dukes and earls, each of them waiting for him to make a misstep and he had always thought Camshaft to be the exact same sort until the last Optics of Praxus had defied Nightstalker and abetted the escape of the sparklings of executed lords, “traitors” to the Emperor’s reign. Camshaft had paid for that act of mercy with his life. Faced with the same situation, Prowl believe Jazz would make the same choice but perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

Somehow, they visited so long with Jazz and Punch that Punch insisted they might as well stay for dinner. Smokescreen had been delighted by the invitation to help with dinner. He had never cooked, neither had Prowl, princes did not dirty their servos with such menial tasks. If a prince wished to occupy his servos, he might go hunting, write poetry or arrange crystals. Though the nobility often had greenhouses on their estates, they were usually staffed by gardeners. They might play about with propagation but they did not turn the soil or weed the garden beds. Prowl had been consider eccentric for his tending his own crystals and for dancing for them. As it had stood, many of his predecessors had been known for eccentricities and his gardening hobby had been quite mild compared to those of his ancestors, and his elder brother.

Jazz dug out a bag and marbles and showed Bluestreak how to play the game. Prowl stretched his doorwings wide and basked in moment. Smokescreen snickered at something Punch said and Bluestreak’s near mute doorwings fluttered as Jazz praised him. These were good mechs, truly good mechs. Prowl could believe Jazz did the work he did for the sake of the citizens of Iacon and not for fame and fortune. They both appeared to shun the temples and yet they were more godly mechs than any priest Prowl had known. He doubted he would be of much use of to Jazz, beyond reporting on counterfeit coin or petty scams. Apart from his time spent selling crystals, Prowl was reclusive. It was not an accident that he put his mat down well away from the corner of the market most Praxians. Though neither he or Smokescreen wore the armour of royalty, Prowl feared someone might one mega-cycle recognize them. His burns served as something of a mask and Smokescreen had largely been kept from public view but even if it was unlikely, it was not impossible that they might one mega-cycle cross paths with someone who had attended court and there was nothing that scared him more.

“Let me walk ya home,” Jazz said after dinner.

Prowl thought he should demure. He knew the market, as did his creations but Prowl knew Jazz would insist and Punch would as well. Beyond that, Prowl found he liked the Lord Inquisitor’s company. Bluestreak’s doorwings danced on his back. They did not move in a manner that “spoke” glyphs but in emotion. Bluestreak held knit lupinoid toy to his chassis. Punch had given it to him from his stock. It was now the single most precious thing in Bluestreak’s world. Smokescreen gave Bluestreak and “Woof” a piggyback ride as Prowl walked behind with Jazz, keeping his creations “in sight” in the only way he had. The air was cool on his plating but not unpleasantly so. Soon Saltus would give way to Calor and the dark-cycles would become unpleasantly hot. Such was the way of the seasons. In the next quartex Prowl would need to forage for the crystals that would disappear or go dormant during Calor, to awaken the next Saltus. He would treat them with a tincture to preserve them for sale for the quartexes to come. Prowl paused at the door when they reached his building. Jazz opened the door for him.

“Ori’d expect me to see ya all the way home,” Jazz said. Prowl smiled and he supposed that was true but Jazz, for all his lack of courtly manners was a gentlemech to his core. Insisting on his originator’s behalf was simply a convenient excuse.

“If you wish,” Prowl replied. “Thank you. Your originator is a wonderful mech.”

“When he told ya to come by any time to take a meal, he meant it,” Jazz said. “I hope ya know. He’d love to see more o’ yer bitties. He’s got a hankerin’ for grandbitties and he don’t got any comin’ from me or Rico.”

“Neither you nor your twin have intendes or conjunxes?” Prowl asked.

“Rico’s sweetspark died in riot back in Polyhex,” Jazz explained. “Don’t think he’s even ready to look for someone to open his spark to again. ‘N I... guess I’ve always thought wit my work, it would be too dangerous. I got enemies ‘n I can handle’em but I couldn’t handle’m comin’ after my family.”

“Are you afraid for Punch?” Prowl asked.

“More afraid for anyone dumb ‘nough to test’m,” Jazz replied. “I learned everythin’ I know from ‘m. I thought he outta have this job ‘n not me but he’s where he wants to be.”

“He seems... happy,” Prowl said. “Genuinely so.”

“Thank ya,” Jazz sighed. “I always worry ‘m just bein’ hopeful thinkin’ the same. It was hard, real hard when my genitors died. A part o’m died wit them and he lived for our sake. I was startled to feel like he was findin’ his joy again.”

“I do believe he is,” Prowl turned his helm to “look” down at Jazz and smile. He paused as he stepped on the next stair. “Oh! Swindle fixed the lose step!”

“I may o’ had a glyph wit’em,” Jazz told him. “He knows I got ya in my... protection I guess. He won’t give ya trouble. Mech’s so scared o’ bein’ poor again he’s stingy but he’s more scared o’ me than losin’ his coin.”

“You are familiar with each other?” Prowl asked.

“He’s a useful mech to know,” Jazz replied. “Sell information, it’s usually good. I killed his conjunx so he gives me a good deal... He deserved it. Sold their mechling a creep that fancies youngling.”

“The monster,” Prowl hissed.

“I got Devcon back for’m and made’m a window so even though a scare the scrap outta him, Swindle, sorta likes me,” Jazz explained. “Was this the only suite available when ya came lookin’ for a place?”

“It was,” Prowl said. “With some many refugees, it was hard to find any place we would not have to share. Swindle is... stingy but in his defence, I never complained about the step. I wanted us to be left be he does and that’s all I really ask.”

“If ya e’er find yerself in a bind, go to ‘m,” Jazz said. “If ya can’t find me or Ori. He’ll keep ya safe ‘til I can take over.”

“Are you sure?” Prowl asked.

“100%.”

“I’ll let ya get to berth,” Jazz said. “Wit the mechlings started their new school in the light-cycle ya probably wanna get’em down quick.”

“Thank you, yet,” Prowl said. The priest we spoke to spoke some chirolinguistics. He promised the instructors would all be made aware and they provice meals to all their students.”

“Sounds like a good place for ‘em for sure,” Jazz said. “I’ll see ya soon.”

“Good dark-cycle, Jazz.”

The mechlings said their goodbyes. Bluestreak gave him a quick hug. It really had been the perfect mega-cycle. They had good fuel in their bellies and the promise of more. Fuel alone might help Smokescreen find some value in his class. Prowl had a loaf of bread for a snack as he sold his crystals throughout the cycle and Punch had told him to expect a visit around lunchtime. He would likely be well-fuelled to. It had been a perfect mega-cycle but it had been a long one. The mechlings had been gathering with him for joors before Jazz had appeared and they would normally have gone to their berth a joor earlier but none of that mattered. This would be a mega-cycle Prowl would dream about for a long time. Smokescreen crawled into berth first, followed by Bluestreak would curled up with his new toy and made a silent, blissful sigh. Prowl crawled into berth last, with doorwings uncovered, facing the door, watching the door, as they recharged.

“Jazz thinks your pretty,” Smokescreen said as he made himself comfortable.

“Oh I do not believe that at all,” Prowl’s intakes flexed and his glossa felt thick and awkward.

“He couldn’t stop looking at you and smiling with googly optics,” Smokescreen replied.

“He has a visor,” Prowl said. “I know the shape.”

“Doesn’t stop googly optics.”

“Silly mechling,” Prowl huffed. Smokescreen snickered as they all snuggled together under their one blanket. Prowl drifted down to recharge with Smokescreen’s glyph repeating in his helm. He rarely dreamt in colour but this dark-cycle he saw his processor’s imagining of Punch’s shop and all the colourful things Bluestreak had been delighted by. There was laughter in the kitchen as Punch prepared a treat with the mechling. He imagined one of the laughs as Bluestreak, sweet and innocent. Jazz pulled him towards a private corner. Prowl threw off the blanket as he broke into a coughing fit. It was too hot. The air was heavy with acrid smoke. He walked towards the door and felt a wall of heat too intense to pass. Prowl heard it crackling. Fire.

“See the demon burns? See? See?” Prowl heard his crazed old neighbour yelling a mechanisms that were not there. “Yes... Yes... I will’ll be transformed.”

“Aiiiiiie!”

“Creator!” Smokescreen called out, coughing as he did.

“To the window!” Prowl ordered, between coughs. “There is no other way out!”

[lovefazedforsoundwave]

WFC JETFIRE X FEMME!READER

Warnings: nfsw, SPIKE IN VALVE, Rough, interfacing, AFAB READER

You had been sent by prime to go find some clues on what megatron had been planning for cycles now. This war was just pointless. Energon low, everyone's gonna deactivate due to the lack of Energon. It's just dreadful to think about with that processor of yours. As you walk around the decepticon base, you hear jetfires so-called command seeker team around the corner talking about how they would brutally murder the autobots, especially you included

You listen in more for information, but to your surprise, you hear the mention of the plan, and the mention of jetfire and you doing... wait, what?...

"What the scrap are wrong with these mechs..?"

You whisper under your breath, and your optics offline for a few microseconds. Are these guys just crazy or perverts? Because what have you just heard? Your intake is dropped, but you have to admit that jetfire is kinda hot.

You also had thought you were developing some crush for the decepticon himself, but that can't be possible or a thing, can it? But should it really be the thing to keep you guys apart?..

Your processer gets so lost in thought you forgot what you were there for, and were too busy thinking about jetfire to care anyways

that you suddenly black out, you woke up in a headquarters. you try to break out of your restraints, but someone enters the room, the mech and decepticon himself jetfire. You shuffle trying to break these restraints with bare strength but couldn't, of course... They were uncomfortably tight after all, and your pedes and tibulens were spread uncomfortably enough, this position is showing your interfacing panel openly. You could somewhat feel the air touch the panel. No, don't tell me.. is he gonna..

"Oh.. im gonna have a lot of fun with you, something ive wanted to do with you. In a way, it'll make you feel good, understood?."

"Now. Listen to me when I say this, if you dont, this could lead to serious consequences autobot."

"Be a good autobot, and I'll give you a good reward for obeying, maybe even get something better.."

Your optics gaze at his as he walks closer to the berth, then looming over your small body compared to his, you shutter thinking what he's gonna do to you next hes so big and your so small..? he brushes a digit down to your chassis and interface panel slowly,

making you shiver, he grumbles, then puts your dermas together he decides to slip his glossa into your intake, leaning down while rubbing your interface panel slowly and easily, you whimpers while he does what hes doing, then you hear a hiss down by his interface panel as he groans As his spike rises, his spike is MASSIVE. Theres no you can take that spike. It's far too big, and your valve is small, and so are you, so just how can you take that massive spike of his.., he then takes off your cuffs letting you free

"But h-How-..."

"Oh.. you know how, we'll make it fit right into that little valve of yours."

Your optics widen in horror, he smirks while rubbing your tibulens, he then pulls you by your hips bringing you closer, as his HARD spike is on your interface panel, you stare at that red glow and ridges on it, you feel abit disappointed for beginning to like what he's doing to you, imagine what the others would think if they had knew what you were doing right now. Especially with an decepticon.. you gasp in sad but abit of excitement, you look at his spike, admiring the stretch it would cause and another stuff, he smiles abit

"Like what you see autobot hmm?"

"Go ahead.. feel it.."

You put a digit to the tip rubbing it up and down slowly, causing him to groan and offline his optics for 4 minutes as more transfluid liquid breads drip and get on your digits and his spike, he grips your tibulens more tightly. This was surely... SOMETHING different, something more strange, nevertheless it was something, never have you seen the seeker leader be so desperate for something like this before. It was so extraordinary, out of the normal for you, you were just admiring his face of pleasure for a few minutes, your panel was ready to be opened

"Open your panel..im going to show you REAL pleasure now."

You listen to his command and snap back your panel with a hiss, revealing your valve, the cold air hits your valvs as small drops leak from your wet valve, you feel it at your valves entrance, this scared you greatly, the pain crosses your processer, but he ensures you it'll be painless and a few microseconds

He's thrusting into your tight valve like he's been trying to do this to you for cycles now, your moaning for him, this was your 4th overload this cycle was very pleasant and pleasureful

your getting very oversimulated so much by him, it's so hard not to moan for him every microsecond he does this to your stretched oversimulated tight valve, you sound like a slut moaning the way you do, but it really can't be helped when your being used like a slut, jetfire groans and Moans each time As he feels your gestation parts be rearranged by his massive spike, he pulled you closer keeping you on his spike until thrusting again, but faster each microsecond he feels like it, you beg for him and praise him when he pounds into you, tears fall out your optics in pleasure, as the bigger mech liked watching you take his spike while moaning like a slut in heat, he enjoys this you can see the look on his dermas you moan with hin, his blue optics glow brighter to this passionate interfacing

"Scrap! Oh P-Primus.. such a good autobot taking me like this..! slang!~"

"Oh! Please Jetfire, please... please.. please, it's so big ... it feels so good.. agh.. jetfire..!~"

"You're still so fragging tight! You're a good autobot! oh Primus.. Scrap!"

He moans as he overloads for the 3rd time letting all the transfluid liquid fill you up, you feel this, and it feel very strange, but that doesn't matter, he pulls out his spike and you whimper keeping your optics offline as the transfluid dripd out, alot of it does, he's filled you up 3 times , with alot of fluids, he whispers praises into your audio receptors, he says you've done such a good job taking him like that, he pulls you into an embrace whispering

"You're my femme Now, mine and mine alone. Understood?"

[cybertron-after-dark]

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, here's how I think the tfa Decepticons would handle a Human Error incident (suddenly turned human with zero logical explanation)

-Megatron ain't doing great. God dammit he's fucking TINY. Just when he's gotten his body back after god knows how long of being a severed head on the floor, he's vulnerable AGAIN. He's still up and functional, doing whatever needs to be done and not letting his present weakness interfere with his goals, but he's in full on paranoia mode. He trusts nobody and he's not going outside if he doesn't have to. Too many things that could go terribly wrong while he's a pathetic creature of flesh with no fucking armor plating and no rotors to fly with. Doesn't give a fuck about trying anything he could only do as a human, he's too busy trying not to die. He'll only eat the nightmare that is organic food if he's in a human body long enough to nearly starve. He'll never admit that it actually tastes better than energon. His pride would never allow it.

-Starscream is miserable and will LOUDLY bitch to everyone present whether they care or not. Unlike Megs, however, it's less in a "I have no armor plating, anything could crush me" way and more in a "EW EW EW WHY IM I SQUISHY GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF OH PRIMUS IM HIDEOUS" way. He's grabbing the nearest paper bag and putting it over his head. He's not risking ANYONE taking pictures of this little incident to blackmail him. He's especially angry that he can't fly. What do you mean he has to walk everywhere like some kind of monoformer??? What the fuck??? He'd normally try to off Megatron while he's vulnerable, but slag that, he's vulnerable too, and he doesn't even have his null rays to slag him with anyway. Convinced human food is going to be disgusting, pleasantly surprised when it's not. Gets a little obsessed with garlic bread, but we've all been there.

-Blitzwing has lost not one altmode, but two, and given how reflexive his transformation is, he's going a bit stir crazy. Doesn't help that he's lost his wings either. To try and cope, he's got the zoomies something awful, and tries running around the mountain base, jumping off whatever high surfaces he thinks won't kill him for a taste of altitude again, laughing his ass off as Random when he hits the bottom (very uncomfortable for him that he only has one face, too). However, in spite of his physical discomfort, and how generally overwhelming the situation is, he is at least a little excited that he can partake in human culture without consequences. He gets swept up in an arcade for a couple hours and has the time of his life, and tries as much earth food as he can. He's generally the only reason his teammates haven't starved yet because he's the only one willing to go out and get it. He has decided he really likes pizza, beer and chocolate. Genuinely a little sad he won't be able to eat it in his normal form.

-Lugnut is a bit disappointed that he's been given such an unworthy form incapable of serving his liege. How can he aid the GLORY of Megatron and the Decepticon cause when he is so small, so weak, so... Organic? But, he picks himself up and vows to do everything in his power to remain useful. And that starts with testing his limits to see how much use he can be. When he sees Blitzwing jumping off cliffs, he's certain his comrade's had the same idea and joins in, determined to find the threshold for his new body's pain tolerance. It is not as high as he would like. He can't really see as well now that he has one eye instead of his usual five, so he kinda keeps falling off high places anyway even after he's done doing it intentionally. Eventually tries organic food because he needs to fuel up to be of any use, but still loudly condemns it as inferior to energon. He kinda gets a kick out of knowing it's made from organic beings, though. He feels like he's turning some of the life on this useless planet towards a good cause by using its energy.

-Shockwave was already having a really weird day, falling through the space bridge and ending up on earth of all places. But as nice as it was to eschew his cover for a bit and catch up with his true comrades, it was kind of undercut by being suddenly even tinier than his usual disguise and significantly less durable. Not too fond of losing his extendable reach, either. Though he may not be too thrilled, he's still determined to make himself useful. More useful than the two idiots launching themselves off a cliff, anyway. He does a bit of research into basic self care and how to not die in general, as well as trying to figure out what did this to them and how to reverse it. Not opposed to trying earth food, he admits he's curious, if a bit intimidated by how varied it is. Learns he's got a bit of a sweet tooth, ends up mildly addicted to baked goods. Especially cheesecake. Once this whole humanity business is over, he starts a small side project on an internal filter that makes some organic matter edible just so he can keep eating it.

-Nobody takes their newfound humanity worse than Blackarachnia. She already hated being partially organic, but now the detestable, disgusting side of her makes up 100% of her frame. It feels like the final nail in the coffin. She's completely shut down, she just can't take what she's become, unsure whether this nightmare will ever end. She's not holding out on Shockwave being able to fix the issue. It never got magically resolved the first time it happened, why would it now? Her only cold comfort is the other cons have to suffer with her. She's not eating human food. If she starves, she starves, but she's not stooping to that level. She didn't before, and she sure as hell won't now.

[ppnuggie]

Apologies for the previous asks

For the Rung ask And the slap a note ask, will you still be able to do them with human reader please? And the bots in both use a holoform, so they are the same size as the human

I'm sorry once again

　　　　　　RUNG x gn reader

　　　　『　rung ,, gender neutral reader 』

　　-> picnic date w/ rung <3

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, lil crack ,, bro experiences sour lemonade

　　— its alr :D but please keep it in mind if you request in the future :3 i only did the rung one because i didnt rlly understand the other request . made it a oneshot ,, feel free to reblog or give any comments / feedback ! <3 i enjoy reading them and seeing my work spread !

        it wasnt quite like earth ,, but it was still nice . being here with rung and introducing him to some customs from your world . and it had been a minute since you'd last gone on a picnic . air warm with a chill breeze rustling against the organic plants covering the ground . almost like grass ,, yet less itchy and more soft . not to mention the vibrant purple color . the sky was green ,, a contrast to the rest of the planets warm colored flora . almost reminding you of halloween in a way ,, with its greens ,, purples ,, and oranges . when was the last time you had celebrated halloween ? or been to a halloween party ? you couldnt even recall how long youve been aboard the lost light ,, with how much things have happened .

" (y/n) ? are you feeling alright ?" his hand settled on your shoulder ,, voice smooth and soothing to your ears . it was nice ,, having someone to care and check up on you for once . being aboard the lost light ,, the most you would get for that would be from the medics making sure you didnt break a bone doing something silly and unthought of . " yeah ,, just taking in the sights ." you smiled to the man ,, rung ,, your hand coming to meet his on your shoulder . the psychiatrist nodded with a smile ,, picnic blanket by his side as you both started to walk up the hillside . it wasnt too steep ,, yet it did pose a bit of a challenge .

his hand slid off your shoulder ,, yours following in pursuit and entangling with his . slim fingers tucked in between your own ,, his hand more warm than yours . how such a little gesture made your heart pick up ,, feeling your face heat as you treasured the feeling . it had been too long since you had felt the touch of another ,, let alone a human . even if he wasnt really human ,, it did heal your lonely and touch starved heart . the need and want of another starting to fill slowly the longer youre with rung . its almost as if all your worries fly away ,, out the window to never bother you again .

" this seems like a good spot ,," you muttered ,, setting the picnic basket and taking the blanket from rung . " can you hold the other end ?" you asked ,, waiting for him to grab the corners . you walked backwards and started to lie the blanket on the soft grass ,, placing the basket over in the middle of it . " i've never been on a picnic before . i must thank you for inviting me ,, (y/n) ." rung hummed ,, opening the basket and pulling out the goods from inside . there wasnt much ,, just some sandwiches packed with some fruits that had been previously cut . a couple of plates and two glasses ,, a pitcher of lemonade to go with . " its nothing really ,, im just glad you even came along ." you replied ,, setting the plates out and grabbing a sandwich for yourself . rung picked one up curiously ,, interested in it . " what might this be ?"

" its a sandwich . the outside is bread and inside is peanut butter and jelly . theres other kinds if you dont like that one ." you shrugged it off ,, biting into your own sandwich . rung examined it ,, lifting the top bread up a bit before putting it back down . he took a bite ,, letting out a hum at the taste . he's only had energon his whole life ,, or other versions of energon . there wasnt much of a flavor to it ,, but experiencing this was quite intriguing for him . it made him wonder what the other things youve brought along would taste like . would it taste sweet ,, like the sandwich he was eating ?

        you poured a cup of lemonade for him ,, holding it out so he can grab it . rung didnt waste a second ,, taking a small sip and taking in the different flavors . it made his 'tongue' tingle in a bizarre way ,, his eyes scrunching up . though the tang left and he was left with a sweet aftertaste . " too sour ?" you asked with a giggle ,, forgetting that sometimes lemonade doesnt suit everyone . " is that the word for it ? then yes ,, i suppose so ." rung set the drink down and continued to munch on his sandwich . you had already finished yours ,, munching on a couple of grapes that had been packed .

        " what are those ?" rung asked as he swallowed his bite ,, pointing towards the grapes in your fingers . " theyre grapes ,, a type of fruit . try one ,," you said and placed a plump grape into his open hand . " theyre not as sour as the lemonade ,, i promise ." he nodded ,, putting it in his mouth and chewing . it wasnt sour but its wasn't exactly sweet . the crunchiness soon turn into a mushy mess ,, swallowing the supposed grape . he soon finished his sandwich ,, and looked to where you laid on the blanket . " what are you doing now ?" he asked ,, setting down beside you . your hands found each other ,, entangling once more with each other . his hand warmed yours ,, a pleasant feeling with the breeze cooling your skin .

        " looking at the clouds and seeing what they look like ." you hummed ,, raising your free hand to point at one . " that one kinda looks like magnus's grumpy face ,," you snicker to yourself . rung nodded ,, smile placed lightly upon his lips . " that one sort of looks like those ,, what are they called ? ofu ?" he raised a brow in question . " its ufo ,, and yeah it does . what if it is ?" you looked over at him in surprise before laughing to yourself . " what if they're here to abduct you ?" rung widened his eyes a bit before shaking his head . " i hope not ,," he unlaced his hand from yours and cupped your cheek . " i couldnt bare to be apart from you ,," he whispered before placing a kiss on your lips .

[desceros]

If you like Prime Ratchet may I recommend Physical Therapy by my beloved ss-shitstorm? Its an xreader fic based on the synthetic energon ep but also

Literally anything they (Shitstom my beloved) write is scrumptious and toes the line between shitpost and touching im a way I have never seen before (I also love love Fortuna Primigenia and Breaking Bread)

oh i’ve been subbed to them for Years hahaha but yes thank you for the recommendation ��� i shall pass it on to others

[feathereddragonkin]

Making this post because of the last transformerskin thing I reblogged. Keep in mind, for me Energon mimicry is more about color than taste, as it's hard for me to pinpoint how it tastes. If it tastes like a particular thing for you, just experiment. By all means, just make sure you hydrate and eat at least one meal a day. I know terran food isn't the same, but we unfortunately have terran bodies that require it. Just take care of yourselves please, for Primus' sake.

Foods to mimic Energon (can be either pink or blue)

Powerade (encourages hydration and has electrolytes, so it's better than soda at least)

Ice cream, like Blue Moon or Strawberry (not healthy, but we all deserve a little treat)

Blue or pink candy (again, not healthy, but do you have any idea how hard it is to find healthy blue foods??)

Add blue or pink food coloring to a vanilla smoothie

Or add it to bread dough to make pink or blue bread!

There are recipes for blue or pink pasta, if you're adventurous.

I'd suggest green energy drinks to mimic the feeling of synth-en, but my partner has decided that I'm no longer allowed to have energy drinks bc of how they affect me...TwT

Blue or pink water flavor packets (again, I must encourage you to stay hydrated, and this helps immensely.)

I hope this helps at least a bit. I know dysphoria can be a pain to deal with, especially with regards to food. Please try to be kind with your terran body, feed and hydrate it, and I hope at least something on this list can help. Or maybe give you inspiration for how to manage your food dysphoria. That will be all, now go take care of yourselves! That's an order from your local medic!

-tfp Ratchet fictionkin