#Gravescratch

[bettsplendens]

Who else do you think would be willing to join Soundwave’s and Megatron’s gross cannibal club? Gravescratch? Starscream? I know Knock Out would probably like the aesthetique of it and the whole dismemberment bit, but DANG is it messy and time-consuming and horrible on his finish. Airachnid would love it, but she won’t ask to join out of spite and Soundwave won’t offer. Shockwave would probably slorp energon with a proboscis like the world’s bustiest butterfly.

Starscream is a Seeker, formerly near-nobility, and recoils from the very idea. Probably sneers and calls everyone involved “disgusting savages”. 

Knock Out won’t touch drained energon or protoflesh as a meal, something about his systems being too refined for such garbage, but will take a body apart just out of general him-ness.

Gravescratch eats just about anything he kills, including people. Definitely including people. And one of the Functionalists, or so he claims. He can digest metal and protoflesh, making him the only person who’s never gone hungry during the war- there’s always scavengers to be had. To him, the entire planet is edible, and so are limited amounts of organic things.

Blackspark doesn’t tend to eat people, since germs, but hunts and eats small animals for food. He’ll chew on people if he’s hungry enough. 

Shockwave is practical enough to do it, but prefers to process the energon first, deadpanning something about potential infections. He probably has a portable energon filtration system in subspace at all times for just that situation. Can’t eat the fleshy bits because he doesn’t have any teeth. 

Crucible (most people haven’t met him, short-but-solid mech whose alt is his namesake) isn’t proud of it, but he’s eaten corpses. Mostly out of fear- he has very high fuel needs, especially if he’s been using his alt mode, and panics at the potential of starving. Panics enough to overcome his squeamishness at the idea and be caught chewing on someone’s fuel pump. Unlike the others on this list, he feels bad about it, despite his usual pragmatism. Different upbringing. 

[gentlexwind]

Hello, gorgeous. You look divine... such a delicious color scheme. 

And there was yet another mech hitting on him. Blinking at the compliment and comment, Prowl feels a tinge self concious under the stare. Where was Blitzwing when the ninjabot needed him? Oh right. Busy.

'Lots of bots have black and gold as a scheme.'

[doyourequirefirstaid]

I am entirely uncertain what the issue is here; I find the mandibles rather intriguing. In fact, I would rather like to taste them. Might I? (@Gravescratch)

*clamps facemask shut* do not

[arctos-sleuth-blog]

@Gravescratch perks his helm up from his hiding spot in a large pile of rubble, all six antennae perking up in interest, and climbs out of the hole to get a better look at... whatever that is with all the limbs. Is that some sort of... no, actually, he doesn't have /any/ idea what that it. The intimidatingly large mech near it doesn't seem to be acting like it's terribly dangerous, at least. Still... is he /really/ curious enough to go and see what- who is he kidding, yes, he is curious enough.

@gravescratch

Specter had known something was alive in the rubble, but the sheer bulk of it had hindered his readings. At least until the bot had pulled itself out.

Bruin debates for a moment on pretending to ignore it and maintaining the element of surprise, but shuffles that aside quickly. Spotter and the wolves are off on long distance recon, alert to what’s happening but unconcerned as Bruin is.

A silent command is given, and Specter, in all his shadowy glory, whips around to face the mound of rubble hiding the unknown entity. Neck coiled back, tail arched, and legs planted, his biolights flickering out. He is more than eager to hunt, even if it’s only a turbofox.

::Steady Specs, no jumping the gun::

《I know the game, quit worrying》

[bettsplendens]

Things Blackspark has called Gravescratch:

Lighthouse face

Gyroscope head

Spirit of every greyhound ever

Nightmare cheetah

Jumbo bowl of danger noodles

Annoyed linguine 

Scourge of the underworld’s zebras

Acid-trip lamppost

Extremely lanky potato

French bread loaf

Slenderman’s weird cousin

That weird scratching noise outside at night

Spookiness

Land barracuda

Greyhound ninja

IDK but he’s weird

The physical embodiment of the “no” stare

A cat’s sass in physical form

Escaped garbage disposal

Discount paper shredder

Be-legged python

Disembodied irritated stare

Three raccoons in a trenchcoat

Father of all raccoons

Sassbucket

Five and a half underweight hellhounds

Like seventeen hairless cats

Approximately 115 mutated piranha

Under-bed monster

Closet noisemaker

Bypasser of evolution

Evoker of WTFs

Heck if I know

Genius

Luv

Best friend

Probably literal soulmate

[bettsplendens]

Just imagine this on Blackspark’s snapchat.

[bettsplendens]

Blue Zircon continues to be extremely confused, Gravescratch attempts to remedy this. Also, nature happens rather loudly. Part 2 of https://bettsplendens.tumblr.com/post/161343231179/an-experimental-weapon-noodle-obtains-a-very. 

3281 words, warning for a “I am property” mindset. 

Zircon woke slowly, confused, but couldn’t bring herself to be frightened of whatever this was. She had been… unconscious? Which should be concerning, but she was fine. Just… waking up. No pain, none of that lingering unpleasantness that came with re-forming, body still where she’d put it.

Uncurling a bit, Zircon rubbed her eyes in an effort to reboot her brain, then shook her head and looked up at-

Oh, right, this thing with way too many eyes. Which… hadn’t eaten her yet, apparently didn’t intend to, and was currently reading a… thing. A small object, made of extremely thin pieces of something moderately flexible, that had what looked like some sort of writing on each piece.

“That looks inefficient.” Was her first thought, and not one she quite managed to contain. It did look inefficient!

 “Yes, well, I do not keep data storage devices over my face. Besides- the locals here are only just beginning to migrate all reading data to digital form, it is a rather recent invention. This is what they use instead, it is called a ‘book’. Perfectly serviceable, albeit inefficient compared to the tech you are used to.”

Having calmly explained himself, Gravescratch set the book aside and looked down at his lap full of public defender, taking in the utterly confused expression. “And you were just asleep. Sleep is a state of mind and body, mandatory for the physical and mental health of many organic creatures, which Gems also benefit from despite not being organic. It is not necessary, but it is helpful for mental health, particularly among those under high stress. Homeworld discourages it and hides the knowledge due to it being seen as unproductive. It is something like meditation- the mind relaxes, all conscious thought ceasing, and the body largely relaxes. Consider it a reboot. You were terribly confused and upset, but now- better, yes?”

 Zircon elected not to answer. Mostly because she did not want to admit that, yes, she was feeling better now. Or… comment on her emotions and what had just happened.

Except, actually-

What exactly, had-

Zircon had several questions, but they were all derailed by something… chiming? Chirping?

The chirping turned out to be coming from a small, blue, fluttering creature, something that was perched on the back of her former hiding place. It would have fit in her palm, its coloration was startlingly close to hers, and it kept making rather pleasant sounds as it bounced around on two tiny limbs.

New question.

“…what is that?”  

 “Ah, there it is. That, little one, is a ‘bluebird’. Birds are small, avian, organic creatures found across this planet. There are several thousand different species, ranging from the size of your finger to about the size of your torso, in many different colors. That is a small local species. It is supposed to be outside, but it found its way inside earlier and I did not wish to pursue it for fear of harming it. They are very fragile. I would like to put it outside, as that is where it belongs, so, if you will pardon me…”

Gravescratch gently tipped Zircon out of his lap and stood up, circling around the wall of the room until he was near a section of a soft wall hanging. Pulling it aside, he revealed a transparent section of the wall, which he opened- letting in a good deal of humidity, a gust of moving wind, and more sounds similar to the first creature’s sound. “Yes, yes, here you are- you can leave now, bird.” Gravescratch declared, turning to look at the bird- and blinked all seven eyes in mild surprise as another bluebird flew in.

Both Gems stared at the new invader for a moment, then Gravescratch shook his head, sighed, and turned back towards the window. “That was exactly the opposite effect I had intended this to have, so- little one, please stay in here, I am going to encourage them to leave.”

 Zircon wasn’t watching the “birds” any more. Her attention was now on the opening in the wall through which her kidnapper had just left. Slowly standing up, she carefully approached the opening, staying to the side so the strange thing might not see her looking out.

That was… a lot of green. A lot of bright, bright green. The sky was a bizarre soft blue with moving patches of white, and the ground was a fuzzy green that her eyes couldn’t properly focus on. This was far too large to be another room, so- apparently that was what the planet looked like. Now- which one was this? Had she seen any images of a planet like this?

She had not.

That was a bad sign. So was the lack of anything even resembling Homeworld tech. Or anything coherent, everything was fuzziness and rounded edges and-

Apparently the ground came apart. Her captor was scraping away the green, revealing a layer of dark brown, and he did it with no visible effort.

 Gravescratch cleared away a patch of the green, then sat back and stared up at the sky, waiting until-

After a short time, another few bluebirds came fluttering down, landing on the exposed patch of brown. Making sounds very loud compared to their tiny frames, they bounced around in the brown and plucked at it as if searching for something, completely ignoring the lanky thing standing near them.

A few moments later, the birds inside seemingly heard the sounds, chirped in response, and flew outside, joining the others in the exposed patch.

Gravescratch gave a satisfied hum, but didn’t come back inside, just sat down and watched the birds- especially as more, of differing colors and sizes, appeared.

 Her captor was distracted. Distracted, and facing away from her. With an opening to the outside still available.

But her captor looked very fast, wasn’t far away, and was familiar with the local area. She was not made to be fast, and she didn’t even know what planet she was on.

Running was a bad idea. It was a very bad idea.

So… was staying here a better idea?

She didn’t trust the strange thing that had captured her, and she still had no doubt that it was going to hurt her. It seemed calm now, though, whereas running would risk making it angry with her.

But… if it was angry, it might just get whatever it was planning over with. Which, given that she had no hope of rescue, would probably be better than it toying with her for however long it intended.

And this might actually work.

Staying here, she had no hope of escape.

Trying to run would give her the tiniest scrap of hope.

Which was something that she needed.

So, shakily, Zircon crept over to the opening in the wall. One last check to be sure the creature wasn’t watching, then she clambered outside, dropping to the ground.

She didn’t stop to look around. Partly because she couldn’t, her eyes couldn’t focus properly on all the incoherent shapes around her. She just set off in one direction, as quietly as possible, heading towards what looked like cover. A series of objects much larger than her, blobs of nonsensical green patterns supported by relatively straight grey-brown columns. Hopefully she could hide among some of those. She just had to get there.

Zircon tried to be quiet, at least until she was away from the building, but the ground kept making sounds. Unpleasant squishing noises from everything she stepped on, urgh. Worse than that, she ended up yelping as a small, bullet-shaped creature leapt out of the ground and hit her in the face, and there was no way her captor hadn’t heard-!

Time to run. Zircon abandoned all attempts at secrecy and just bolted, panic fueling her as she ran for cover. Maybe if she just got a head start, got ahead of it far enough, she could escape-!

 Unbelievably, it seemed to be working. When she finally risked a glance over her shoulder from between the columns, nothing was following her. It wasn’t there. Maybe it- could she have escaped its notice?

Maybe it hadn’t been watching because it hadn’t expected her to run.

Well, she’d showed it!

Zircon had time for a moment of satisfaction before a crashing sound registered. Slow, powerful, and repetitive- coming from somewhere in front of her.

Was that good? It might provide an opportunity to escape a potential tracker’s hearing, but it might also present another threat. Except that it almost sounded like… water.

She was a Gem of Blue Diamond’s court. Water was a good thing for her.

And she was too tired to run.

So she kept walking in a straight line, slowly, cautiously, as the blue of the sky started to show up again and the crashing grew louder, and she kept walking until she ran out of ground to walk on.

The ground fell away. Not even in a sensible fashion, with hovercraft docks or any sort of transport, it just stopped being ground and turned into open air. “Of course. Because nothing here makes any sense.” Zircon muttered, staring out at the sky in front of her that seemed to somehow stretch below the horizon, and-

Wait. There was a line. But the ground was almost the same color as the sky out near the horizon, except that it was moving, white lines rippling across it towards her.

Oh, her eyes were not made for this. She was made to operate in well-constructed buildings that made sense, to process data at high speeds, not to stare out at messily shaped things that someone had put far away.

But, squinting, she managed to make out what was in front of her.

Water.

More water than she’d seen in her entire life, stretching from horizon to horizon around the outcropping she was standing on. There were waves rippling across the surface of the water towards her, crashing against the base of the outcropping far below her. As she watched, a massive grey creature broke the surface of the water, sent a white spout from its back, and sank again, and more birds –these larger and grey- drifted across her view.  

“What in Blue Diamond’s name…”

 “Oh, she had nothing to do with this.”

 Zircon gave a very undignified yelp and jolted in place, very nearly jumping right off of the outcropping. Whirling around with her arms up as a futile shield, she backed up until she was right at the edge, trying to escape the punishment she was certain was coming for her escape attempt-

But nothing happened. Her captor twitched towards her, as if about to grab, but didn’t touch her. Just- waited. Staring. And did nothing.

It unnerveed her enough that she ended up blurting out “well?!” up at the thing, then immediately regretted it and covers her gem with both arms, which unfortunately left her with no good way to hide her face.

 “I am not going to grab you.” Gravescratch rumbled, taking one long step back, and sat down- out of reach of her. “Unless I feel that you are in danger otherwise, I am going to respect your bodily autonomy as much as I can. And I am not going to harm you for running, understand? You are not in trouble. I do not blame you for running, either, although I do need you to return. And, preferably step away from the cliff before you fall off.”

 Bodily autonomy?

She knew what those words meant, separately, but- together, and in this context?

And why didn’t her captor intend to punish her for this? She ran, which is precisely what she was told not to do- it would make sense for her to be punished, why wouldn’t- not that she’s complaining, of course, but-

The only logical part of that was the suggestion that she should move away from the cliff. She did so, forcing herself to walk closer to the thing that so effortlessly found her, and tried to draw herself up as she spoke to it.

“You make no sense. Explain yourself at- at once! You have kidnapped me, why- why wouldn’t you- and- ‘bodily autonomy’, what do-“

She didn’t want to get closer, but she did, moving slowly towards the thing as if drawn by a magnet. “And what did- did you do to me? How are you making me feel like- nnh-“

 “I did not do anything to you. As I said before, little one- you are a member of a social species, in a society that forbids affection. You are terribly touch-starved. That contact earlier helped, and now, whether or not you intend to, you are searching for more. Easy… I am not going to hurt you.” Gravescratch rumbled, leaning in slightly, and pressed his muzzle to her forehead when she was close enough. “I am sorry- I do not mean to upset you, but, as I am not causing this, I have no way to stop it.”

 Eyes shutting, Zircon took the final step closer, hands curling into fists as she tried to fight the urge to get closer. She did not succeed. The best she could manage was not hugging the thing that had brought her to this planet against her will, the thing that could shatter and eat her if it so chose, the thing that-

That was explaining again. She should listen. Explanations were good.

 “You are not in trouble because your reaction is understandable. You are frightened of me, and for good reason. I would have been shocked if you did not make some escape attempt. Now… bodily autonomy. A concept that is going to seem very strange to you, because it goes against everything that the Diamonds encourage. It is, to put it simply, the idea that you have the right to decide what happens to your body. You have the right to decide who is allowed to touch you, what they are allowed to do, and when they stop. You have the right to decide what you are comfortable doing and what you are not, and no one, even the Diamonds, can change that.”

Gravescratch lowered his head just enough to meet Zircon’s eyes, or, at least, enough to meet her eyes if she would open them. “No one has the right to manipulate or control you in any way, save only what is necessary to prevent serious harm to you or someone else. Why I refrained from grabbing you away from the cliff just now, for example- you were not in serious enough danger to warrant me capturing you in such an alarming fashion. I am trying to respect your autonomy as much as I can. Which is why I am not holding you- I am concerned that it would distress you further.”

 Explanations were still good.  Except when they only made things more confusing.

The Diamonds were entitled to whatever they wanted of her. Anything and everything- theirs.

Or… maybe not so much the Diamonds any more.

She’d been taken, removed to another planet, and there was no one en route to rescue her. Which meant, legally, she belonged to… this.

So, instead of faceplanting into its front, she probably ought to show the proper respect.

Drawing herself up as much as possible, Zircon took a step back and squared her shoulders, looking up at the being who towered over her. “Ma’am. With all due respect- in accordance with Right of Conquest laws, you literally own me. What you are saying makes absolutely no sense. You have every right to do- literally whatever you want. I- there are- there are some things I would not recommend, and things I would not prefer, but- I have no rights here.”

 “That again.” Gravescratch rumbled, eyes narrowing, and leaned down to properly meet her gaze. “Listen to me. I do not have any right to control you. I did not earn the right to manipulate you by having the skills to capture you, and the Diamonds did not earn the right to manipulate anyone simply by being born as a certain variety of Gem. No matter what they claim, that does not give them any right to anything they are doing. But that is unimportant for now. What I need you to understand is that you have rights. You have the right to tell me to stop anything that you do not like. And I am not inclined to take orders, but you may make requests. Go on- try it out.”

 …what?

Zircon didn’t manage to restrain her expression of bewilderment, mostly because all of her brainpower was going into trying to puzzle this out. First of all- the Diamonds had every right to do whatever they wanted, with everything that they owned, and they owned an extremely large number of things. Second, her captor –owner- had every right to- again, anything. This made no sense, but-

There was an order near the end of that confusing paragraph. Probably another part of this twisted game, but… an order. “Try it out”, referring to, presumably, her hypothetical ability to make requests of her owner.

So… she tried it out.

Stared up at whatever this was, tried to stay steady, and spoke as clearly as she could. Which… wasn’t very, given her request. “Hold me. Ma’am. I- I still think something happened to cause this, but- I want- hold me.”

 “There we are. Good. Assert yourself- I promise I will not be angry with you.” Gravescratch rumbled, all seven eyes shutting momentarily in a gesture of approval, and wrapped his arms gently around Zircon’s frame. Pulling her just a bit closer, he rumbled gently and hugged her with all four arms, giving quiet approving sounds every time she moved to increase the area of contact.

 Zircon slumped limp in her owner’s hold, shutting her eyes for just a few seconds so that she could properly bask in the sensation of touch, and… stayed like that for far longer than she meant to. Oh. Intimidating or not, this thing was warm, and it was supporting her oh-so-well, and she wanted-

She wanted to curl in close and get comfortable and never move away, wanted to stay like this and hold this creature and never let go, and it scared her that she wanted anything so strongly-

She wanted more, but she wanted to stop, and the twisting desires escaped as a soft whimper before she started to claw at her owner’s front- trying to get away, trying to hide somewhere so she could figure this out on her own without being touched in a way that made her mind want to short out. “Stop, stop-“

To her shock, the creature did. It let go, it stepped back slightly, and it crouched, making no effort to get closer to her again.

 “Yes, like that- good!” Gravescratch crooned, looking genuinely pleased, and took a step away. “Come on- away from the cliff, please. And, preferably, back to the building- come inside and sit, enjoy the electric blanket, sit somewhere away from all the nature so you can think.”

 Her owner obeyed when she tried to make a situation stop. Now that… that had to be part of a game, some kind of trick, some kind of trap, but-

But the ground kept making noises, and little things flung themselves out of it at her, and she wanted to be somewhere that did not have anywhere near this many living creatures. So… she’d obey. She’d go back inside.

And she was going to use every step of the way back to try and puzzle this out.

[bettsplendens]

I still can't believe Gravescratch friggin' ate the bell. Bett, your son is out of control. Also, voring people is not how you make friends. Someone needs to explain that to him.

Gravescratch didn’t particularly want to go to the trouble of walking smoothly enough to not jangle the bell, and he certainly can’t be expected to spend the day with a noise-making object near his audials. What else is he supposed to do with a bell? Besides, it probably tasted good.

And I don’t think he’s ever vored anybody. He isn’t large enough to swallow most sapient beings whole, he makes a point of never swallowing things alive because that would be cruel and potentially dangerous, and he doesn’t kill sapient beings for food. 

(Now, if someone is dead for other reasons, he’ll certainly eat them, but that’s a different thing entirely than vore.)

[bettsplendens]

Blackspark and his pregnancy brain earlier failed to recognize his partner in crime after they’d been separated for awhile. Gravescratch was not pleased.

“You did not recognize me.”

 “Gravescratch.”

 “You. Did not. Recognize me.”

 “I’m sorry.”

 “You looked. Right at me. And you did not see me.”

 “I know, baby, and I’m so sorry.”

 “You forgot me.”

 “Now, okay- that I’m gonna have ta object to.” 

Blackspark sighed, very gently attempting to tug Gravescratch’s helm a bit lower, but failed entirely. He wasn’t willing to use any sort of actual force, especially not now, and Gravescratch did not want to lean down. “C’mon, baby, I didn’t forget you. Look- you heard th’ medic. Processor’s a li’l busy buildin’ a bit, I’m runnin’ on low power. Got no recognition skills fer anyone, ‘specially not outta long-term memory. But I didn’t forget you. I just… didn’t recognize ya.”

 Gravescratch made no attempt to pull his helm out of Blackspark’s servos, but pinned his antennae down and refused to move, stretched up tall enough that he was almost out of reach. When he spoke, some of the hissed words were accompanied by a quick stomp of one pede, a gesture that meant agitation- that he was either working himself up or had been working himself up. “I have spent centuries being overlooked because people take me for an animal, because people look but never see me. I spent the first part of my life in chains because no one saw and no one cared and they left me to slavery for lack of recognition that I was not an animal, and you try to convince me that you of all beings not recognizing me is not important?!”

 “Oh, baby, no… that’s not what’m doin’.” Blackspark whispered, slowly beginning to sway side-to-side on his pedes in an attempt to get Gravescratch to mimic him- the closest he’d ever been able to come to rocking someone nearly twice his height in his arms. “I’m not tryin’ ta say that it doesn’t matter. I’m sayin’ I’m sorry, an’ that it ain’t ‘cos you ain’t important, it’s ‘cos I literally cannot recognize anyone past recent memory. I didn’t recognize you, bu’ I recognize your worth, an’ your rights, an’ your existence- I see you, baby, I see you. I got you.”

 Gravescratch wanted to believe. He did. Enough that he found himself starting to lean into the touches, starting to sway with Blackspark, before he caught himself. “Pretty words, but no proof.” he hissed, half-sparkedly trying to pull away, and shut his optics against the traitorous welling of moisture.

 “You want proof? I feel ya- proof’s good.” Blackspark purred, gently running his fingertips under Gravescratch’s optics, and started to purr softly as he rocked. “I ‘member meeting you. Thought you were some kinda hound, but- hey, can’t blame me there, you were pretendin’ ta be one. Talked at ya, gave ya food, lured ya back t’ my ship, an’ then turned ‘round an’ saw ya loungin’ all noodley on m’ berth. Don’t ‘member when that was, bu’ I know it happened.”

His optics brightened a bit as Gravescratch leaned ever-so-slightly into him, and he purred just a bit louder, taking exactly one step closer. “Yeah. An’ I remember Mine, hm? Cute li’l stuffed thing. Still got ‘m in subspace, yeah? I ‘member findin’ ‘m. You… had a lotta feelings. Talked t’ya ‘bout ‘em, eventually… after I found ya curled up’n cryin’ more’n once. You did a lot more cryin’ after we talked, but… seemed better after. Had some stuff bottled, stuff ‘bout how they treated you, ‘bout th’ one who wasn’ quite as awful… ‘bout how you were tryin’ ta figure out if ya hated th’ mech or not. Figured out that… maybe not? Not as much ‘s hate.”

He could see Gravescratch’s resolve wavering, but he didn’t try to get any closer, nor did he attempt to pull Gravescratch down. He just kept talking, his voice soft and genuine, and kept swaying- which Gravescratch was starting to follow.

“Real mixed feelin’s, yeah? Tha’s okay. Yer allowed ta have complicated feelin’s ‘bout people. He’s dead, anyway, ain’t gonn’ cause ya any trouble. I ‘member that much. I ‘member helpin’ ya check. An’ I ‘member you cryin’ after that, too. You had a lot of cryin’ bottled up. Which’s okay, baby… nothin’ wrong wi’ cryin’. Bottlin’ ain’t good fer ya, though. So, hey… you feel like maybe you got somethin’ stressin’ you… yeah? Guessin’ it’s this? I know, baby, I’m sorry… ‘m so sorry. I know. I know ya, an’ I know how you feel ‘bout not bein’ recognized, an’ I understand- I do, baby, I do. That is an extremely reasonable… reason fer ya ta feel like that. An’ I’m sorry I didn’ recognize you. I am so, so sorry. But- please, Gravescratch, you know me. And I know you. I know you.”

 Gravescratch made a soft, needy little sound and finally, finally gave in, slumping against Blackspark with both pairs of servos grasping at the bounty hunter’s frame. He didn’t speak, though, just whined and pressed close, careful to avoid the spines as he pressed his helm to Blackspark’s throat and swayed.

Of course Blackspark knew him, of course, it made so much more sense for him to not recognize than to forget. And it still hurt, but… carrying did strange things to people’s brains. Part of the reason why the whole idea horrified him. It… wasn’t out of the question that Blackspark’s processor might have failed him. Right? It made sense, and it was comforting, and Blackspark had never, never lied to him… not once. Not even slightly.

 “Yeah, hey… I feel ya. It’s alright… c’mon now. Berth’s tha’ way. ‘s okay.” Blackspark crooned, carefully backing up and taking Gravescratch with him, still swaying as much as he could while walking. “There we go. I missed you, hey- you know that, right? Oh, Primus, I missed you… I love you, baby. Love you, Gravescratch.”

Once on the berth, Blackspark leaned back a bit and purred softly, rocking slowly back and forth with all his spines as far down as possible so Gravescratch could cling as tightly as possible. “Yeah… here we go. Comfy? Uh- careful not ta lean too hard on m’ stomach, somebody in there don’ like that.”

 Gravescratch curled against Blackspark and parted his jaws just enough to lap at the bounty hunter’s throat, softly, something they both knew meant the same- affection, pleasure in trust, love. Maybe not romantic love, but… that didn’t make it any less genuine. Even if Gravescratch was bad at admitting it in words.

He’d missed Blackspark, too, missed the first person in a long time to treat him with respect. Missed this ridiculous bundle of spines, those soft white optics and the gentle touches only when he wanted touches…

Like now. Yes, he had a lot of feelings, and he definitely wanted touches now.

So he curled around the warm mech, he swayed with Blackspark, and he licked and nuzzled and offered as much affection as he could without having to try to speak.

Much as it shamed him, he didn’t think he could manage any words right now.

[bettsplendens]

Everybody who does art needs to check out paintschainer.com. It is amazing.

Here’s Tempo in what I thiiiink might look like Business Colors to Cybertronians. I still gotta figure his colors out. 

And then a re-color of Gravescratch attempting to flirt. This one came out gorgeous- the engine seems to work best on very clean sketches with minimal shade differences.

Aaand then a zoomed-in icon, recolored in what I like to call “cryptid”. Not so clean, so it came out not so pretty. 

Then there’s ExTrA CrYpTiD when I attempted to make it less messy and made it worse. There is at least one photo going around Earth’s Internet that looks like this because Gravescratch didn’t notice the camera in time. Apparently he’s a cryptid that shows up in pine forests, leaves giant cloven hoofprints, and is terribly afraid of humans. He thinks this whole developing mythos is quite hilarious. 

[bettsplendens]

An experimental weapon noodle obtains a very anxious lawyer, AKA Gravescratch somehow manages to kidnap Blue Zircon in an attempt to help. She is not informed that this is supposed to be helpful. 

4415 words, no warnings aside from quite a bit of panicking.

The last thing Zircon remembered was teeth. At least two rows of fangs, fangs that she knew could shatter a gem almost effortlessly, closing around her and slicing off her light-form. Then an instant of awareness of a long tongue wrapping around her gem, drenching her in something, before everything went black and she lost her grip on the world.

She wasn’t sure how long she spent trying to decide if she wanted to re-form, but, however long it was, her first attempt was unsuccessful. Something thick, dark, and clinging pressed her back in before she could even begin to properly form. Which, considering the circumstances,  was probably the monster’s innards.

And wasn’t that the perfect start to a panic attack? She couldn’t re-form because she was inside something, something she knew for a fact could digest gems, but if she didn’t re-form she was never going to get out, but if she never got out she couldn’t re-form and get away-

Zircon spent longer than she wanted to admit on alternating between trying to reason her situation out and just straight-up panicking. Mostly panicking, because what else was she supposed to do? Trying again to re-form was useless, it did nothing but spend energy that she couldn’t afford to lose.

But she tried again, illogical as it was, because there was nothing else to do.

The second time she tried to reform, the same thing happened. She was trapped.

The third time, she decided, would be the last attempt. If it failed, the only thing she could do would be to sit and wait for something to change.

But this time, when she turned her awareness outwards, something was different. The clingy something was fading away, being cleared off- rescue!

Zircon re-formed with praise on her lips, about to thank the Diamond of whoever had rescued her-

But relief turned to despair as she found herself staring down the muzzle of the thing that had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

This was a job for a soldier.

She was not a soldier.

Somehow she ended up yelling that out loud.

She was not expecting the creature to mutter “clearly” in the deepest voice she’d ever heard, but she wasn’t sticking around to figure that out.

Her info-disks were not weapons, but that didn’t stop her from throwing several of them at the thing’s face before she turned and ran, hoping the surprise would slow it down just slightly-

But it cost her, because she had to be looking at the creature to throw the disks, and she took off running before she’d fully turned around, and she didn’t see what was in front of her until it was too late-

This time, the last thing she saw was about twenty knife-like blades, all black as midnight, aimed directly at her.

 She didn’t try to re-form for a long time after. Didn’t have any energy to try, and, if she was being honest with herself, she was too scared. The stickiness was gone, but there were two things that she could only describe as monsters in her immediate vicinity, and that was-

Well, it was terrifying. There was nothing to do here, was there? Just- just wait, try to get her strength back, and hope they forgot her eventually.

 It was a soft warmth that finally coaxed her to re-form again.

This time, she re-formed unimpeded, and she wasn’t immediately met by- anything. Nor did anything jump out, or look immediately threatening. Everything looked strange, but it didn’t try to attack her.

Relieved beyond anything she could communicate, Zircon just about collapsed into a sitting position, leaning back slightly with her eyes shut as she tried to calm herself enough to think.

Okay.

She was fully formed, didn’t seem to be restrained, and wasn’t being confronted.

She might not be safe, but nothing was after her at the moment, and she could therefore plan.

First, she needed to figure out exactly where she was and what was around her.

The warmth under her turned out to be… some sort of a pad. A soft, flexible, rectangular object with a wire and a set of controls leading from it. It didn’t seem to do anything other than emit heat, but, just in case, Zircon set it aside where it couldn’t get at her. As much as she would have liked to keep the warmth nearby.

Next up- the soft stuff she was sitting on. Something made of what she guessed was an organic material, a sheet of a soft material that stretched and folded easily. Then another layer, this one larger and thicker, patterned with odd, dull greens and browns. Also soft. Not a threat, most likely. Odd that she was on something soft, though- why? For her… comfort? Didn’t exactly seem like something most captors would do.

Nor did her surroundings look like a prison. For one thing, it wasn’t anywhere near small enough- this was a moderately large room, with doors that didn’t look like they were locked. Actual doors, with knobs- how archaic!

So was the rest of the room, actually. The floor was made of something in a strange brown color, with far too many seams, and the furniture was of a similar material with no sign that it could fold up into the wall. None of it was sharp or intimidating, in fact the largest piece of furniture was some sort of long seating that looked soft and squishy.

Standing up (with some effort), Zircon confirmed that the item was, indeed, soft and squishy. And it had a space under it that would just about fit her, which was-

She did not yelp in an undignified manner when someone knocked on the door. Not at all.

Nor did she panic and scramble under the furniture.

She was not at all hiding under the furniture when the door opened. No, she was not, because that would be ridiculous and not at all dignified.

(okay, yes, she was hiding under the furniture and it was not dignified but she really did not care right now because she was quite certain that the owner of the claws clicking across the floor was the thing that had tried to eat her and nope, that was it, she was staying under here-!)

Despite her terror, Zircon was still observing, trying to file away everything she possibly could that might help her. There wasn’t much to see, just her captor’s feet, but- that was a little bit interesting? Two large, thick claws per limb, then- where were its ankles? Who kept their ankles a third of the way up their legs? What did this thing need so much leg for? Zircon couldn’t think of anything, aside from-

Well, aside from completely dashing her hopes of making a run for it.

Not that she’d had any real hope, anyway, the creature was between her and the door. Looking for her, obviously- it had paused near the discarded heat pad, picked it up. Looking around the room, probably- and there was a limit to where she could be, after all. Clearly, it knew where she was-

Huddled into the smallest ball she could manage without outright shapeshifting, Zircon retreated until her back was up against the wall, shutting  her eyes in an effort to block out this nightmare-

And jolted hard enough that she hit the underside of the furniture when the creature spoke. Oh, right, it could do that.

“I am not going to hurt you, but I know where you are. Here you are- take this back? It is just a heat pad- nothing harmful. The warmth is nice.” The creature murmured, stepping close to the furniture, and crouched slightly to slide the heat pad under- near her, but not quite touching. It paused for a moment after, seemingly waiting, then backed up slightly and heaved a sigh. “I do hope you are under there and have not somehow ended up- hm, no, you are not on the ceiling, the doors were still shut when I came in, and the window is- also closed. So… I assume you are under there, but, in the interest of making certain that you are not in a drawer, I am going to check.”

As it explained itself, the creature crouched, placing both- no, all four hands on the floor, lowering its head until it could stare at her with- oh, no, she hadn’t miscounted before, it had three eyes on one side of its head and a much larger one on the center, presumably three others on the other side- a fusion? A very, very strange fusion? She’d heard rumors that mixed-gem fusions had extra limbs and eyes, but this-

It was illogical, but Zircon flung another of her info-disks at the thing’s face, trying desperately to get it away-

And didn’t manage not to whimper in terror when those dripping, fang-lined jaws opened again to catch the disk.

The creature blinked, sighed again, and stood up, then, a moment later, slid the disk under the furniture with her- right next to the heat pack. “I really do not blame you for acting like this. You have every reason to be terrified of me. Truthfully, I am happy you do not have a weapon- otherwise I would probably have to stay out of the room. But… you do not. Save your energy- you are not going to harm me with these, and I am not going to hurt you.

“I am going to ignore you- all right? Hopefully that will calm you down enough that we can talk to you. I need to leave for a little while, the local weather is changing and I need to fix the roof before we all get wet. Please stay in this room- I will not punish you for leaving, but I would prefer that you do not leave, as it would mean I would have to find you again. And, from you attempting to retaliate, I am assuming that you would much rather I ignore you.  I can only do that if I know where you are.”

With that, the creature turned away and opened the door, pausing to speak to- ohh, no, that was the sharp-edged thing from before- and apparently it talked, too? In a rather strange accent.

“Ah, she awake?”

“Yes. Under the couch- just out of sight. I gave her the heat pack, and I fully intend to leave her alone.”

“Prob’ly gonna go out th’ window or somethin’, you know.”

“I do not believe so. She does not have a weapon, for one. At worst, she will end up somewhere else in the building- not ideal, but workable enough. Besides- leaving her alone will, I hope, give her some time to calm down.”

“Or work ‘erself up even more, bu’ yeah- guess haulin’ ‘er out ain’t gonna help any. C’mon- I got th’ roof stuff. Jus’ need you an’ yer legs ta get up there wi’out clawin’ everythin’ all ta heck.”

Both creatures exited the room, the door shut, and Zircon was left alone with her thoughts.

Her thoughts were not things that she wanted to be alone with.

Most of them were terrifying.

 Zircon stayed under the furniture until she was certain they were gone, then, very cautiously, edged forwards until she could clearly see the entire room.

Well. She was in a room that did not look like anywhere on Homeworld, and there were rumbling sounds coming from outside, not anything she’d ever heard- anywhere.

Logical conclusion: she was not on Homeworld.

On a foreign planet with two unknown creatures, one possibly a fusion, the other of unknown origin but covered in knives, having just been politely asked to stay in this room by something that could eat her, Zircon curled up into the smallest ball she could manage, hid her face, and tried not to cry.

It failed.

 Some time later, a strange, soft noise started up- a quick pattering sound from above, on the roof and on one of the walls.

Shortly after, the first creature walked through the door and shut it, then shivered- causing a quick spattering sound like some kind of liquid. “I assume you would like to know what that sound is? That is rain. This planet has an atmosphere, and a good deal of water. When the water is warmed, it turns to vapor and evaporates. When enough water vapor gathers in the atmosphere, it re-forms into liquid and falls in small drops. It is not corrosive- it will not hurt you. Annoying, if it gets through a roof and onto things, but harmless.” The creature thrummed, stepping into the middle of the room to stand on the soft objects, and settled down- crouching, then kneeling, then… lying? It had very long limbs, definitely four arms, and a long torso, so it ended up in a strange propped-up arrangement somewhere between lying down and sitting.

The creature paused for a moment, then lowered its head again, just enough to get a look at her. It stayed silent for a moment or two, then shook its head slightly, curled away, and sat up, turning so that it was no longer facing her. “I am not going to hurt you. I know you have no reason to believe me, but… I am not going to hurt you. I would like to comfort you, but, as I have no way to do that… I am going to continue ignoring you.”

And ignore her it did. It settled around until it was comfortable, then- what? It was doing something, clearly, but Zircon couldn’t see what, and-

She had to know.

Zircon scrubbed a hand across her eyes, then edged forwards a bit, just enough to see- which happened to put her on top of the heat pad. And she didn’t bother to move off of it- too focused on the strange creature.

Like this, she could see most of its frame, especially as it was curled up. The creature licked two of its hands, then scrubbed them over its own face- down the long, narrow snout, then back up, then fingers slipping between too many eyes as it licked the other set of hands and ran them up and back, around the –antennae? Ears?- at the back of its head. Something like… grooming?

Zircon was familiar with that concept- some gems would physically manipulate their form to better conform if they tended to form slightly off-standard, and it required upkeep. But this being wasn’t changing anything about its appearance, wasn’t re-shaping anything, was just… licking its hands, and then-

Oh. Its hands got damp every time, damp with the same strange substance that its teeth dripped, and it seemed to be rubbing the liquid into its outer layer. Strange. Very strange.

Well… she didn’t have much else to do. Maybe she could learn something from watching this thing? Or… maybe it would just let her think about something other than her imminent death.

At least the thing was interesting to watch.

Once it had rubbed over every bit of its head at least twice, it continued the process down its neck and along its shoulders, then forewent the hand-rubbing and just started to lick at its arm. All along the length of one arm, slowly, meticulously, then another arm, then the start of its own chest.

As it continued, Zircon noticed something. Everywhere it first licked or rubbed over became shiny for a short time, then gradually dulled, until it was less reflective than the rest of the creature’s frame.

Once it had licked or rubbed every bit of its upper body, somehow including its back, it set two hands on the ground for support and raised a leg, pointing its claws at the ceiling and leaning down to start licking at the base of its leg. Which was- how was it comfortably balancing like that? And- it had a tail, how had she not noticed?

Zircon found herself uncurling a bit more just to get a better look at the thing, but twitched back as soon as she noticed it glancing at her. It didn’t advance, though- it just continued licking, long strokes up its leg, until it got to its claws and started on the other leg. It glanced over at her every time she moved enough to make a sound, but, other than that, it ignored her- as it had said.

Once it had finished cleaning its legs, the creature shifted, tucked them under itself, and twisted around to lick its way down its own back, a position that looked awkward but caused it no difficulty whatsoever- even without it shapeshifting at all. But that put it in a position where it couldn’t easily get up or muster much of anything, not with its hands all braced on the ground in various spots, which gave Zircon the courage to finally ask the thing. “What- what are you doing?”

The creature paused mid-lick, seemingly a bit surprised, and its eyes flickered towards her before it resumed licking. “I am grooming myself.” It rumbled, then took the base of its own tail loosely in its jaws and pulled, slowly mouthing along the whip-thin length. “My saliva hardens into a substance fairly similar to silicone when exposed to the air. It wears off eventually. Regular grooming maintains a ‘skin’ of sorts over my form, helping me to stay in exactly the shape I prefer, and it decreases my touch sensitivity somewhat. I need to re-apply after being out in the rain. Besides… it is a relaxing ritual that I find quite enjoyable.”

Having licked over its entire body, the creature shifted to sit comfortably, lowering its head enough to maintain eye contact with her. Or- some sort of eye contact, it couldn’t point all its eyes at her at one time. “Would you like me to demonstrate with you? It feels pleasant.”

No. She did not want to come out from under the furniture. It was absurd, of course, she was not protected at all, but- but it felt safe, somehow.

Certainly safer than being in the grasp of that thing.

No, Zircon did not want the Gem-eating monster to start licking her. Clearly, this was a trap- it was playing with her. There was no reason it wasn’t just dragging her out of hiding right now, except to toy with her, presumably for its own amusement.

She didn’t want to be toyed with any more than she wanted to come out and let the thing lick her.

So… which was worse? Did she want to stay under here and let the creature continue its game, or come out where she would probably be eaten? Zircon retreated a bit further and hid her face with both hands, blocking out the sight of the thing and trying to pretend she was somewhere safe and normal so that she could think properly.

If she let it continue to play with her, it would most likely grow more sadistic. Data on various predators and murderers told her that. However, staying alive would give her more opportunities to escape, to-

To try to run away from a thing with much longer legs than hers and a thing covered in spines, on a planet she knew nothing about, with no aid from anyone else. She was in the sort of situation that she’d read about in case studies. Specifically, data on victims of murderers.

She was going to die.

She was definitely going to die.

She was going to die, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Zircon’s hands clenched, then slowly relaxed, and she stared down at the floor for a moment before pulling herself out of her hiding spot. It was the most logical thing to do here, after all.

She was going to die. There was no sense in prolonging it.

Maybe the creature would find her tasty enough that it decided to just go ahead and eat her.

Zircon didn’t bother trying to stand up. She didn’t think she could, she was shaking too badly. She just… edged closer to the terrifying creature, slowly, trying not to start crying again.

It failed.

The creature made no move towards her, just sat there, waiting, and patted the softness under itself. And she couldn’t be certain, it had too many eyes and ears with no other indicators of emotion, but it looked- sorrowful?

Confusing.

Not at all comforting.

She wanted to run. Illogical as it was, she wanted to run. She would get nowhere, and would probably show the creature that she was an entertaining target, but she wanted to run.

But she didn’t. She didn’t run, she kept moving, and she sat down right in front of the slender being without screaming like she wanted to.

She didn’t manage to stop herself from flinching when touched, though.

Even though the creature was impossibly gentle as it wrapped its arms around her. Even though it made no effort to stop her from shielding her gem with both hands.

The creature gave a soft rumbling sound, then lowered its head and nuzzled her cheek, tongue flicking out to lick just below her eye- a movement she couldn’t block, as she was covering her gem. “Shh, little one… you are safe. No need to cry. I will not hurt you.” It murmured, pulling her close, and leaned down over her shoulder to lap gently at her back. “Easy, easy… I am not hurting you. Focus on how this feels… I am not hurting you, and I will not hurt you. You do not need to shield yourself, but you may if you wish… I will not harm you, either way. I am not going to hurt you.”

She didn’t believe that, of course, she had no reason to and many reasons not to. But… what the creature was doing didn’t hurt, that was true. It just felt…

Strange. Long, slow, gentle strokes down her back, punctuated occasionally by a cross-wise lick, the creature lifting one arm at a time away from her frame to give itself more space. Away from her gem, no attempts at biting, not even any real restraint-

It almost could have been soothing.

If not for the sensation of her own tears dripping down her face.

Gradually, Zircon’s hands lowered from around her gem, clenching nervously on nothing in particular- trapped between them. That- that was the strange thing. She was held in the creature’s lap, her front pressed to its belly, her gem between them. It had no easy way to reach her gem. Stranger still, it… wasn’t trying to change that. It seemed content to just lick at her back, going over the same spots again. That was… that was it.

And it felt good.

The creature was holding her close against its front with all four arms, licking gently at various parts of her back, and somehow the heat pad had gotten into her lap and she was warm-

Zircon whimpered in confusion, fingertips scraping against the creature’s front, and squirmed until she could get her hands free for-

She didn’t know what she meant to do at first, but her arms ended up wrapped around the creature’s lanky frame, and she was about to pull away when it crooned and licked just a bit harder down her spine, seemingly in response.

Illogical as it was, Zircon felt her arms tightening around the creature’s frame as it licked, felt herself tucking in closer to the thing, felt-

Felt her emotions shift from fear to- to something, something she couldn’t identify, and-

She was still crying, but it was something different, something that- that she couldn’t identify, but- but it was-

She liked this, liked being held, liked the gentle strokes down her back and the way its hands were starting to knead against her back.

How could she possibly be enjoying this? Was- was there- ah, clearly there was a substance in the creature’s saliva, it- it was-

Zircon pushed away from the creature, just slightly, then shuddered all over and shut her eyes as the creature twisted to lick almost at the back of her neck. “What- what are you doing to m-me?” she whispered, and, despite herself, tightened her grip to press close again.

“Easy… you have nothing to be afraid of. You are, despite what your society would prefer, a member of a social species. Social species enjoy physical contact, and touch is a need. You are terribly touch-starved, my dear, that is all. Let me guess… this is the closest thing to affection that you have ever had?”

…yes? She’s never had something lick her, but- affection? ‘Touch-starved’? What- what was-

Oh-

The creature leaned back slightly to look down at Zircon’s face, then lowered its head and gently licked her cheek again- wiping away her tears. “Easy, my dear. You are safe. Cry all you like, but you are safe, and I am going to hold you for as long as you would like. If you want me to stop, or to shift my grip or move at all, tell me. I do not own you, and your body is your own. You dictate what happens to it, so you dictate everything that I am allowed to do with you. If, at any time, you want me to let go… I will.”

She didn’t believe that. Clearly, it was some sort of-

Of-

She didn’t know.

She didn’t understand this situation any more. Hadn’t in the first place, but this-

This was beyond anything she knew how to deal with.

She didn’t know… anything.

Except that she was warm, and this felt good, and she was still crying but it was for something different, and-

And she had permission to move away, much as she didn’t trust it, but she didn’t want to.

 Gravescratch was somewhat aware of Zircon’s conflict, she practically smelled like confusion, but it wasn’t as if anything he could say would make her less confused. Instead of probably worsening the situation, he stuck to just gently licking at her back, gradually moving out to her sides as she went limp against him. May as well try to lick her evenly while he was at it.

This was not the first person he’d had cry themselves to sleep in his lap. He could work with this.

[bettsplendens]

Who Told You (Now Listen To Me)

(Sung by Gravescratch, who, in Steven Universe land, is a custom-made weapon, capable of shattering gems with his teeth, swallowing them, and digesting the remains. He has proven this, but is not a cannibalistic mass murderer, he’s lying for that bit.)

You take all that you want and say, “they would have died out anyway”

And while that cruelty may be true, selection isn’t up to you,

Life and death and love and hate, and all and more that’s up to Fate,

And I don’t recall you weaving any strings.

You build your world on the backs of pain, snuff trees and clouds and dry the rain,

Order death and ruin by fiend and bruin,

But nothing’s really yours to make anew, nothing but you,

Really now, who gave you the right?

Who came to you and said, “good news! You don’t have to be in another’s shoes!”

Who told you no one mattered but you? Who told you it was true?

Who came down from the heavens above, or crawled up from places empty of love,

To claim that you were all that mattered?

 Who in reality told the four of you-

Oh right!

It’s just three now, one’s dead and gone,

And I must say that I don’t see the wrong.

Why not two, or one? Why not straight-up none? What useful thing have you ever done?

You say order kept, no, more like fear, hurting, twisting anyone near,

Raising soldiers, armies, vast legions, to die for your whims and to take new regions,

So many more would be alive if not for you, just can’t deny it’s true,

So what would happen if I took you down?

 Oh, come on now, my Diamonds,

Sweet, illustrious, arrogant Diamonds,

So brilliant and proper and sublime and-

Oh, dare I say it, delicious?

I can’t say for true, I really don’t know, so I’ll ask all of you,

What do you think you would taste like to me, My Clarity?

I’ve tried Rubies of carmine and Jaspers and more, all shattered and sharp in bright brilliant gore,

Some you know of, and so many more, just couldn’t stop at the first tasty four,

But I’ve never tasted Diamonds,

Pearls and Emeralds and Topaz, sampled the flavors that each new one has,

And I’ve never regretted it once, not ever, not from that first deliciousness crunch,

Such variety!

Oh, I’ve had a full platter, but what does it matter,

If I’ve never tasted Diamonds?

 I could,  you know, after all-

Your scientists built me to do it,

And that is the truth as truest

As they come, but oh, my Diamonds,

My shining, my lovely, my so tempting Diamonds,

Is that fear I see in you? Could it be true?

I thought a Diamond was said to be, as perfect and shining as perfect could be,

Certainly fearless, regretless the same, perfect queens in the galaxy’s game,

A paragon shimmering light and reason, other ideas all nothing but treason,

But I suppose that’s all a lie, isn’t it?

Ah well, I knew already, but the scent of your fear is so heady,

And you just shouldn’t play with your food, it’s quite rude,

Especially- ah!

 Aren’t we a terrible shot when afraid? Such a shame that for you I was made,

To tear right down whatever you said, to come out ahead,

Against things more ferocious than you.

Well I have, and I won, and I left intact not even one,

And it seems you’re the next on my list, you won’t be missed,

And I’ll wager they’ll crown me a hero.

How will that look, oh what do you think, a headline exposing the link,

‘Tween you and conspiracy, ended so horribly, and then there’s me,

Wearing what’s left of you as a crown, up on your thrones and looking straight down,

At the planet rejoicing your doom, with me as your tomb,  

Having just learned how delicious you are- with not even a scar.

I’ll take you apart and swallow you down, in bubbling acid your shards will drown,

And I’ll take your power, your rule,

Me, who you meant as a tool!

Oh, such tasty irony, 

But not as tasty as you all will be, 

So now before you locate me,

Let’s

Just

Take

A

Bite!

[bettsplendens]

A summary of Gravescratch’s “Attractive” tag:

Nail polish mixing gif

Glittery slime gif

TFP Soundwave in wedding lingerie

Brochantite crystals

Fancy slipper lobster

NSFW art of Prince Sidon from BOTW

Fancy betta fish

Sculpture made of pipes that sings when the wind blows

Exploded paint bucket

Citrine crystals

TFP Knockout doing the model walk

Bright blue/purple geode

Shattuckite cluster with malachite crystals inside

TFP Knockout masturbating

Smithsonite clump

A series of lamps that cast colored light patterns on the walls around them

TFP Soundwave 

A startlingly handsome train monster

TFP Soundwave in red and gold

And a gif of a cake being frosted in black dragon scales.

[bettsplendens]

If you could have Gravescratch get knocked up/have cute babies with any TF characters, canon or otherwise, who would it be? I would send it to him, but doing so would be borderline sexual harassment. I figured sending it to you, his creator, would be better.

(do feel free to slightly harass the noodle, he’s very difficult to actually alarm because he knows he can fend for himself against anyone who might happen to come after him, and he’s quite open about himself)

Well, the idea of carrying absolutely horrifies him. Plus, he was built without a gestation tank (partly because he’s just too lanky, partly because his makers wanted a difficult-to-distract scent hound that wouldn’t end up carrying), so that won’t be happening. 

As for him being the sire, I’m not even sure his genes are compatible with other people. He’s very specifically engineered- and quite possibly patented. 

Setting all that aside, Blackspark would probably be the most likely candidate. He’s already gotten himself accidentally sparked up once in a couple of ‘verses, and not only is he a surprisingly good parent, he does frag Gravescratch more than anyone else. They’d have weird lil spiny wolf babies with slightly too many optics, vantablack plating, and long leggins. 

As far as canon characters? He does have a thing for Soundwave. But, sheesh- that’d be straight-up robotic Slenderman. Gravescratch would be very proud of his glowy noodle babs, though. Even if they would probably make shrieky noises at everything and climb people’s legs with their little claws.

[bettsplendens]

An Opportune Meeting

Well... he had been looking for a tracker dog of some sort.

Very, very slowly, Blackspark edged the rest of the way around the corner, eyeing the perfectly-sized canid he’s going to try to win over. 

There is a very pretty, clearly inorganic hound digging in a heap of trash, its plating dirty and scuffed enough to indicate that someone hasn’t been maintaining it. A single, searchlight-like optic illuminates what it’s digging in, powerful claws scuffing through the garbage, and- 

Well. Interestingly enough, it has a third pair of limbs- small servos tucked up against its sides. He’ll have to get a closer look at that, but... hm. Long legs, whippy tail, lanky frame clearly built for speed... this is a racer, at worst, and a tracker at best. Either way, useful. If he can keep it from escaping before he establishes himself as friendly. Fortunately, he’s blocking the only good way out. 

“Hey, puppy.” Blackspark croons, slowly taking another step closer, and raises his servos as soon as it whips around. Looking towards, but not quite directly at the hound, he moves one step closer, then slowly reaches into subspace and pulls out a large, freshly dead wire-rat. “Look... I bet you’re hungry. Not much mechanical life on this planet, huh? And I’m betting... you’re Cybertronian make. C’mere... you want a taste? Look- not a trap, fella, I’m just tryin’ to win you over... c’mere, gorgeous.” 

Six smaller optics flicker online and the hound whirls around, ducking low and snarling at him, all seven optics flickering in different directions as it looks for another way out of- 

But the wire-rat gets its attention, clearly. Antennae perk slightly, then it slowly lifts its helm to look right up at him, meeting his optics. When he doesn’t do anything other than croon again, it cautiously begins to approach him, growling every time he even twitches. 

“Yeah, there we go... there we are. I found a whole buncha these... you want some? I got plenty back on my ship, and I could use a scent-tracker... and you look like you could use a meal ticket.” Blackspark hums, very slowly holding the rat out in one servo, and crouches just slightly to put himself closer to the hound’s level. “Hey, pretty... you’re lookin’ up at me real close. How smart are you, huh?” 

That long tail wags slightly and the hound takes the last few steps, delicately taking the rat from his fingertips before backing off. It doesn’t run, though- just steps out of reach and gulps the rat down, then eyes the subspace pocket it came from. 

“Heh. That... looked like you might’ve...” Blackspark trails off, retrieving another two rats by their tails and offering them, and very slowly holds his other servo out. “Did you like me asking if you’re smart? Because, uh... ahh, Pit. Let- let me see that collar. I’m not grabbin’ you, I’m just... looking.” 

Meeting his optics without any trace of the aggression or fear one would normally see in a wild animal meeting a new person, the hound wags its tail just a bit harder and doesn’t flinch away from the servo on its collar, though the optics on that side lock on Blackspark’s claws. 

It’s an old collar, scratched all to Pit and covered in grime, but one symbol is clear on it upon closer inspection. And, really, Blackspark loathes seeing the Functionalist symbol on anything, but- 

But around the neck of a hound that looks up at him with a disconcerting amount of intelligence, with too many optics set a helm that has an alarmingly familiar shape? 

This just screams “creative punishment” to him. 

“Yep. Hey now, fella... there’s a mech in there, huh? D’you know that, or... do you just have some inkling of the fact that you like being talked to like a person?” 

No answer in words, unsurprisingly, just a faster tail-wag and those lanky hips plonking down on the ground as sharp teeth appear for a moment and the two rats are gulped down one after the other. 

“I don’t know what to make of this. I don’t speak- well, I do kinda speak ‘hound’, I know body language, but... not so much this.” Blackspark sighs, letting go of the collar and standing up, and turns away -keeping his spines low- to start back towards his ship. “Come on- this way. Let’s see if we can get that collar off, huh? I got some experience gettin’ people outta unwanted jewelry. Give ya more food an’ some respect, too.” 

More tail-wagging, and the hound hops up to follow him, coming up to walk just next to him with two small optics aimed up at his face. Stays next to him, too, long legs covering ground fast enough that keeping up with Blackspark’s “this part of town is shady” walk requires no visible effort. 

Once back on the ship, Blackspark gestures towards his berthroom and turns around to lock the door, then grabs a few select tools from his workshop and heads back to his room- 

Only to find that there is not a hound lounging on his berth. There is a lanky mech with too many optics and there pairs of antennae lounging on his berth instead. 

“Well. You should... probably start explaining.” Blackspark declares, but doesn’t bother looking tough, just walks over to sit on the berth. If this thing wanted to kill him, it would have jumped him in the alley. 

He’s not really expecting it to speak in a voice deep enough to belong to someone five times this critter’s weight.

“You were correct in your assumption of my origins, but not in your assumption that I had been modified as a punishment. I was a Functionalist creation made to track targets. I am no longer allied with them, due to multiple disagreements about whether or not I deserved to be a mindless pawn, in addition to multiple disagreements regarding whether or not anyone is worth more than their value to others. And you have quite won me over, honestly. I am always rather impressed by those who treat seemingly nonsapient creatures better than many others treat sapient beings. So- my name is Gravescratch. You?” 

Blackspark stares at the strange thing in his berth, then grins and offers a servo, his posture nicely relaxed. “Hah. This is so much better than ‘unfortunate mech who may or may not still be sapient and is definitely some kind of dog’. Name’s Blackspark, and I kill terrible people for money. And sometimes for free, if they’re terrible enough. I need you to help me hunt down a slaver or three. And my offer still stands- you stick around, you get fuel, respect, and a safe place to sleep. Potentially a good frag, if you want, an’ no propositions if you don’t. Also no collars. Maybe a li’l tracker on you somewhere if ya don’t mind, you look real fast an’ hard to keep up with.” 

“I am much more fond of this than any sort of punishment the Functionalists can come up with, yes.” Gravescratch rumbles, then dips his helm slightly and takes Blackspark’s servo, quite pleased by the offer. “Fuel, respect, and berth, yes please. I will accept anything even remotely edible, but I tend to prefer freshly killed small prey. Tracker, we’ll have to discuss further. Propositions, no thank you- I have next to no interest in interface, especially not with new people. If I change my mind on that, I will offer.” 

“Hah. Small prey, I got. Love th’ stuff myself. Respect, same- don’t rape anybody an’ you got that from me. Berth- I see you like mine? I can share, or we can set you up wi’ somethin’ else. Tracker, saved for later. An’ no propositions, no need t’ worry ‘bout that- I’ll take that as a standing ‘no’. Do be honest if that changes, you look very interesting, but- yeah. Not gonna push. Now-” 

Blackspark picks up a tiny, delicate little saw, which makes a very alarming little sound as it whirrs. “-let’s see about gettin’ that collar offa you.” 

[bettsplendens]

First page of Gravescratch’s current “attractive” tag:

Video of a black, dragon-scale-frosted cake being frosted

Strawberry-vanilla dragon + chocolate goo-person smut

Close-up of somebody’s valve

Knockout

Diamond-shaped cookies being frosted

Blue quartz geode

Pink cookie being frosted

Butterfly

Weird green-and-white geological formation that resembles an ice cream sandwich

I feel like this about sums his interests up. 

Most of his interests (excluding the butterfly, fortunately) are things he would like to put his mouth on.