#Updated Bitlet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nekoastral · 2 years ago

Text

How NOT to start a meeting: Magnus edition.

If you were to ask Ultra Magnus about how he feels about his job, he would reply with a typical “As leader, I do not have words to describe my motivation to continue bringing peace to our fellow bots.” Once he was alone, however, the weight of the title can be too heavy to bare.

He misses the days where he didn’t have to worry about every little thing in terms of ranks, regulations, or the typical propaganda. He knows there’s corruption even among the Autobot ranks, but some were so minor that he often left it to the bot’s next chain of command to handle it. If he tried going down there himself, it would cause a massive panic since Ultra Magnus was the leader. If he has to come down and it’s not for a interview or a meeting, you screwed up big time.

It takes a lot of restraint on his part and a firm glare from his favorite judge to keep him going down without a proper explanation. Nowadays he just stays at the headquarters. This job can get stressful and take a toll on his processor.

There was three reasons he kept going. And those three were at daycare. The three tiny tornadoes known as his sparklings. He would like to be at home more and be with them and his wonderful conjunx Alpha Trion. But they both have jobs and they cannot always be there. They were fortunate the staff decided to open a daycare for the councils sparklings to stay while their creators worked. Alpha Trion updates on the little ones’ status via a personal commlink and sometimes Ultra Magnus could hear their youngest Elita babble on the other line. He only hopes their oldest sparkling Sentinel wasn’t causing trouble. He didn’t have to worry too much for their youngest little mech Optimus since he tries to be a good boy

He was thinking of stopping by the daycare to see his little ones. Their smiles always brightened his day. But reality came knocking when a incoming transmission flashed on his console.

Oh right…

He had a video meeting with the council today. So much for his little trip downstairs. Ultra Magnus presses a button to open the transmission. There was Highbrow from Intelligence, Perceptor from the Ministry of Science, Botanica, Yoketron of the Ninja Corp, and last but most certainly not least, Alpha Trion. The judge of his spark. He won’t dare say that in front of the council members. He caught Alpha Trions optic when he gave him a scolding look at him. He didn’t have lunch yet. HOW DID HE KNOW?!

“Good afternoon, everyone. Before we begin today’s meeting, I must step out for refuel. One moment.”

The towering mech hoisted himself from his chair, walked away from the camera, and toward the door. Highbrow rolled his optics before taking a swig of a rather large energon coffee. He must’ve had a rough recharge cycle with his own bitlet if he ordered that much coffee. Yoketron hummed quietly to himself before taking a sip of his own drink: energon tea. Quite bitter. Alpha trion shook his helm at his conjuxs antics. He was about to take a bite out of a macaron when he heard the door open from Ultra magnus’ side. Maybe he came back already-

Nope. It was a little darkish blue sparkling with a rather big chin. He waddled in with a inflatable hammer in his left servo. He scanned the room to see no one was inside before seeing there was a transmission going on. He immediately made his way toward the desk and struggled to climb up the chair. Alpha trion began to choke on his snack once he realized it was his eldest son!!!!

“It certainly looks like it.” Yoketron added.

Sentinel managed to get up onto the chair and quickly positioned his squeaky hammer forward. He wanted to be just like his sire. A little too badly. He would never leave Ultra Magnus’ side once he was in his sights. Alas, this isn’t the case at the moment. Sentinel looked up at the monitors before scrunching up the most serious face a sparkling could muster. He tried to look cool. But he wasn’t. He was all cute. Botanica giggled at the attempt while Perceptor shook his head in disapproval. He would say something if it wasn’t for the death glare of the elder council member. No one was going to diss his beloved sparkling. Not right now. Not ever. Or at least not while Alpha Trion is around.

To the poor bot’s horror, Sentinel wasn’t the only sparkling who escaped. Two more sparklings was spotted at the door. One was a light blue mech with a red onesie on. He was holding a rather small femme in his arms. She was yellow with a light yellow onesie. She had a purple pacifier in her mouth. It was his second oldest son and only daughter!

“Optimus-?!” Alpha Trion coughed. There was crumbs of macaron stuck in his throat.

The young bot had heard his carrier’s voice and immediately smiled bright. He made his way over toward the chair where his big brother sat. Elita blinked as her brother helped her onto the chair. Sentinel moved her about a arms length away. She could still be shown on the camera. Then little Optimus tried to climb up to join his siblings. Sentinel frowned at his little brother and whacked him with his squeak hammer.

“Nwo!”

They could see Optimus lose his grip and fall rather hard on the floor. There was a loud THUD. He must’ve hit his head on the leg of the chair.

“WAAAAAAAH!!!!” Optimus wailed on the floor.

“My bitlet!!!!”

Mama Alpha was now considering running to the office. Yoketron was wheezing, Highbrow had spit out his drink, Botanica was concerned of the hurt bitty, and Perceptor was….just sitting there.

“Can we go on with this meeting.” The emotionless bot said.

“MY SPARKLING IS HURT AND YOU WANT TO START THE MEETING?!!” Alpha trion screeched.

Ultra magnus had just returned with a cup of hot energon when he heard his beloved yell. Just what was going on??? When he saw two of his bitlets in his chair and one on the floor crying, he dropped his cup and quickly ran to them. He scooped up Optimus who wanted a hug. Elita just now noticed her carrier had her favorite snack with him and glared at him. He wasn’t sharing!!! Ultra magnus picked her up next and she didn’t break eye contact. The poor bot sighed. There goes his private snack time.

“I relieve you of your post, young one.” Their sire said to Sentinel.

“NWO!”

Oh boy. Not even grown and he’s already defying him. Sentinel kept saying “no” as he was hoisted up by his sire. At this point, the meeting would have to be postponed until he brought them back to the daycare.

That wasn’t the plan. Whenever he got close to the door, all three sparklings’ screamed their helms off. Ultra Magnus would step back and they would cease. Step closer. More screaming. Step back. It stopped.

Looks like three more bots joined the meeting

——-————-—————————————————

PLEASE FOLLOW ASK-THE-SPARKLING-SIBLINGS-AU! They are the inspiration for this fic!

#transformers animated #tfa sparklings #tfa ultra magnus #tfa optimus prime #tfa sentinel prime #tfa elita one #sparkling siblings au

133 notes · View notes

silkling · 2 years ago

Text

Watermarked by Your Ancestry

Chapter One

———————————————————————————————————

The news had surprised him, when it had first come. Prowl and Jazz were going to have a Sparkling. He’d known his Third in command and Second in Command had been bonded to each other. Had known it for vorns. But Optimus had never expected that they’d kindle and create a Sparkling together. Even so, past the surprise, he had been pleased for them.

When he’d asked for the little one’s name, they’d told him they wished to keep it a secret, but they had given him the alias ‘Bluestreak’ in place of the little one’s true designation. They intended to move off base, to an hab-suite nearby so they could work and do their jobs without any in the Autobot forces learning about their child. He’d granted them permission, understanding their desire to keep their bitlet safe. He had never learned the true Sparkling’s name, but the pair had never been shy about telling the other Officers, who were the only ones aside from the Prime himself they told about it’s existence, any updates and news they had that wouldn’t identify their Sparkling.

And then….and then the worst happened.

Iacon was attacked, the last of the great cities that had not been decimated by Megatron and his Decepticons. Thankfully, by this point in the War, most of the civilians and Neutrals had left the planet. All that remained in Iacon were Autobots and the few Neutrals who had chosen to remain in their home city. The base had withstood the attack, as had the various Autobot outposts scattered around.

The rest of the city had not.

And that included Jazz’s and Prowl’s Sparkling.

The Autobots lost far more than their city and some of their soldiers, that day.

They lost Cybertron’s last Sparkling, and with it, hope for their future.

——————————

DECAVORNS LATER…..

A prison ship drifted through the vast expanse is space. It was minimally manned, all its prisoners restrained against the walls and stuck in deep stasis. Thus, only a handful of Decepticons were needed to keep the ship running. The Prisoners were Autobots, taken from the last assault on Iacon before all Cybertronians remaining on the planet had been forced to flee. Most of the bots were from the Central Archives and the surrounding areas, as those had been the only parts of the city not destroyed by the initial strike on Iacon.

The ship drifted closer to an rare spacial anomaly–an electrical storm which was a result of solar flares from a nearby sun reacting with a asteroid belt. A bolt of electricity struck the ship, and the shielding dispersed the charge. The Decepticons continued on their business, unaware that the storm had caused one change within the ship.

One of the prisoners was different from the others. The youngest Autobot on board, unbeknownst to his captors, had systems primed for an Ops mech. Which meant his frame had unique adaptations that let him draw energy from sources other than energon, in a pinch. The small electrical charge dispersed through the ship, and was just enough for his systems to register and boot him from stasis.

He was reacting on instinct before he was even aware.

A low pulse from the magnets in his servos, inherited from his Carrier, scrambled the manacles keeping him restrained. He dropped, and his tactical computer took over while his processor still struggled to fully reboot. He stumbled through the ship, lucky enough to not encounter anyone, and when he found his way to the escape pods he spilled his weak frame into one. He slapped the release button, not caring to put in coordinates. The pod locked on to a random signal from deep space, and then he was off.

The mech fell back into recharge, overstressed systems sending him under to reboot naturally.

The escape pod sped away from the ship, taking its single occupant with it.

The Decepticons were none the wiser, and would not realize they were missing a prisoner until they were several star systems away and the pod was too far gone to track.

——————————

Optimus didn’t know what to think, as he stepped from the ground bridge. Ratchet had said a Cybertronian signal had hit Earth, but he couldn’t tell if it was Autobot or Decepticon. The Prime had taken Bulkhead, Arcee, and Bulmblebee to investigate. But the scene they had found was….

Odd.

There was an escape pod half buried in the dirt. A quick look revealed it was a Decepticon escape pod, but whoever had been inside–for it was empty now–was clearly no friend to the Decepticons.

The offlined frames of the eradicons surrounding the pod confirmed that much.

Optimus bent, and saw that the Eradicons had been killed by single, clean cuts to their throats. If the Prime didn’t know any better, he’d say this looked like the work of an Ops mech. But that wasn’t possible. His Special Operations unit had been lost to him. He was unsure if any of them were still alive. Primus, but the potential loss of his Third in Command, of one of his oldest and dearest friends, still hurt so many vorns later. Jazz had deserved better.

He stood, then nodded at his team. They had to investigate the site. Whoever had done this, whoever had been in the pod, might still be close.

He started walking, moving slowly and carefully around the pod. The others moved away, but stayed in a loose circle around him. They came around the back of the pod, between the dark forest and the open half of the escape pod, and before Optimus was even aware they were no longer alone he felt a presence on his back. Literally.

A smaller mech was on his back, pedes cleverly pressed against the edges of his armor plating so he didn’t fall off the Prime. The unknown’s arms were around his shoulder, and Optimus could tell he was about to meet the same fate as the Eradicons.

Time slowed, and he reacted on instinct.

He ducked, rolling tightly to try and slam to mech to the ground. The bot disengaged before the bulk of the Prime could slam down on him and leapt away, and Optimus used the momentum to roll back to his pedes. He came up with his blaster held to his assailant, his team closing ranks in the next beat and following suit.

That was when he got his first good look at the mech who’d attacked him.

No, not mech. It was…

“A youngling?” He couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice, and the EM fields of his team echoed his shock.

The youngling was still, staring at them. He was a slim little thing. Primarily white, with red and blue racing tripes and some black accents as well. The chevron on his forehelm and the doorwings at his back gave away his Praxian heritage, he was too slim and short to be full Praxian. And…Praxians were rare. Very rare. Precious few had survived the Fall of Praxus.

The youngling’s most striking feature, however, was his face. He wore a battlemask over his lower face, and an amber visor that was painfully familiar covered his optics. The visor and mask were both in the Polyhexian style, and something that Optimus had seen countless times on Jazz.

The youngling cocked his helm sharply, clawed servos flexing. His doorwings, held high, flicked out, and one of them ticked in a pattern he knew meant curiosity. That exact display, down to the doorwings twitches and cocked helm, was one he’d seen often enough on his Second that it stole his breath to see it again. Oh, but how he missed Prowl as well.

Then the youngling was stiffening with shock, and the visor and battlemask snapped to the side.

“Holy frag!” he blurted. His voice was young, and there was a lilt to it was was pleasant and smooth, reminiscent of the musical dialect of Polyhex.

Optimus was willing to bet this little one was Praxian-Polyhexian. The thought of that combination made him ache for the unknown sparkling his dear friends had lost so long ago.

Little Bluestreak had deserved so much better. So had his creators.

“You’re Optimus Prime!” The youngling continued. He snapped into a formal salute, and Optimus was suddenly aware of the elite guard badge on his armor. “Elite Guard Smokescreen, Sir!”

Before Optimus could reply, Arcee cut in. “You expect us to believe that? You attacked us!”

A frown was directed to the femme. “Yeah, and I’m sorry about that. But I was I stasis until I hit this planet, and when I came out of it I saw ‘Cons getting ready to deactivate me. I reacted, and I wasn’t able to shut down the battle protocols until I realized who you guys were.”

“Likely story.” Her tone was biting, and it made the youngling jerk back.

“I didn’t do it on purpose! My battle protocols have always been a little more intense! I can’t help it!”

Before Arcee could respond, Optimus put a servo on her shoulder and stepped forward. “That isn’t very usual, young Smokescreen.”

Smokescreen shrugged helplessly. “I wouldn’t know, Sir. Alpha Trion told me it must be from my CNA. Apparently I have Ops coding somewhere in my heritage.”

That name got his attention. “Alpha Trion?”

“Yeah. I was orphaned after the first attack on Iacon. He found me and took me in. Helped me become an Elite Guard. I was with him at the Archives when the ‘Cons attacked us.” He nodded back at the escape pod. “It’s how I got here. They loaded all the prisoners from the attack onto a ship and put us in stasis. Something must have gone wrong with my stasis generators though, cause I woke up and made my way to a pod. I don’t remember much of that. I think my higher processor functions were still offline so I was kinda going by luck.” he admitted, seemingly sheepish.

Arcee shared a look with Bulkhead and Bulmblebee, but when Optimus put his blaster away so did the others. “I see. You did very well then, young one. But we should leave before Megatron sends more mechs here.”

“Megatron is on this planet?” the youngling yelped, optics bright and wide.

“Sure is, rookie.” Bulkhead chimed, sounding friendly. “You don’t gotta worry about old buckethead though. We usually take care of him pretty well!”

“Indeed.” Optimus agreed. “Nonetheless, we shall return to base. Smokescreen, come along. You can give us a full report there.” He commed Ratchet, calling for another ground bridge. Bumblebee scurried over, beeping a cheerful greeting to the younger mech, and Bulkhead plodded after the pair as the scout led their new arrival through the portal.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Optimus?” Arcee asked. “It could be a ‘Con trick.”

“I doubt it.” The Prime smiled sadly at the femme. “No Praxian would join the Decepticons. And even if that was possible…using a youngling is not Megatron’s preferred method of operation. He would not use a mech a considers weak for a task he considers as vital as defeating us.” he pointed out.

Arcee seemed to consider that, and after moment she nodded. “Alright. Fair enough.” Then she strode forward and through the ground bridge.

Optimus followed, but not before casting one more look at the scene he was leaving behind. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something about this scene that seemed oddly familiar. The sound of approaching jets forced him to abandon that train if thought, and he hurried back through the groundbridge.

Whatever the case, he was sure that Smokescreen’s arrival was bound to make things interesting.

——————————

In the dark expanse of the stars beyond Earth, where the universe stretched endlessly, a battered and worn shuttle powered along without a sound. The once silver metal was messily painted dark, the vessel made to blend into the surroundings it flew through. It had been outfitted with modifications to make it nearly undetectable, and it was currently locked on a faint signal it had picked up from hundreds of light years away. A Priority Prime message, sent to guide lost comrades back to the fold.

Within the shuttle, a pair of black-and-white Cybertronians sat. One was small, mostly white with black servos and a black helm, two stubby audial horns the primary feature that signified Polyhexian heritage. His optics were masked by a blue visor, and the red and blue racing stripes suggested an alt-mode built for speed and agility.

At his side, in the pilot’s seat, sat a taller, broader mech. He, unlike his companion, was almost entirely monochrome, and the only color to adorn his frame was a red chevron and an amber visor covering sharp optics. His doorwings were still at his back, held high and stiff with the tension his frame was carrying. The star of the Praxian Enforces surrounded the Autobrand on his chest, and his claw-tipped digits tapped the console to put the shuttle into autopilot.

He leaned back, staring silently out of the window in front of them. “It’s done. We are set course for the coordinates of Optimus’s last message.”

“Good to know.” He smaller mech leaned back, frame deceptively relaxed. “Ah ‘spose this means we’re givin’ up?” He said, tone bland.

His words were met with a sharp look. “Hardly.” The Praxian stood, making his way to the viewport in the side of the shuttle, over where the single berth was welded to the wall.

The dim lighting flickered slightly, casting his frame in brief shadows before it came back on to reveal him standing and staring out the small window.

“Sure sounds like we are. We pick up Prime’s message and suddenly leave behind the coordinates we were gon’ check out?”

“We are….putting the search on a temporary hiatus.” The Praxian stated. “Prime needs us. I calculate a 78% probability that, with the destruction of the Ark and the scattering of the Autobots, Optimus will not have the necessary degree of aid on whatever planet he has made his way to. Following that, I predict a 96% chance that Megatron followed Prime with the Nemesis. Given that, it is our duty as the next highest-ranking in the Autobots to go to his aid….regardless of our own personal commitments.”

The Polyhexian heaved a sigh, padding over. “And yeh can live with that, even if turnin’ away now means we lose ‘im forever?”

Those doorwings quivered, and then dropped. “I have to be, Jazz.” He sounded pained. “I gave my oaths to Optimus. So did you.” He pointed out.

“Yeh think Ah don’ know tha’, Prowler?” Jazz snapped. “Ah do! Primus help meh, but Ah know!” He walked over, frame tensed with agitation. “But we also swore to protect our sparklin’! That’s what we promised when we discovered Ah was sparked.” He shook his helm. “An’ we failed! Twice!” He hissed softly. “We shoulda taken him and left with the last o’ the Neutrals when Iacon fell.” he said, sagging suddenly.

Prowl stared at his bondmate for a long moment, and then he turned his frame and reached out, drawing the Polyhexian close. Jazz allowed it, and leaned in to listen to the thrum of the Praxian’s spark.

“I know.” Prowl said softly. “We should have left when he was still a sparkling, and when that failed we should have taken him from the Achieves when the Ark left Cybertron. We did not. That failure is mine.” His visor dimmed as he closed his optics. “When the Archives fell, we knew nothing of his fate. But when we went back we did not find his frame among the fallen. Perhaps it was destroyed, but it is more likely that the Decepticons took him and any other survivors as prisoners of war.“

“Ah know, Prowler.” Jazz heaved a sigh. “Tha’s what you said. But that jus’ means we gotta find him.”

Prowl nodded, then curled a digit under Jazz’s chin to tip it up. “I know, love.” he murmured. “And we will.”

“But we gotta help OP firs’.” Jazz sounded defeated.

“We do.” Prowl said somberly. “If we cannot defeat the Decepticons, then we will never be able to safely reclaim our sparkling. He will never be able to live without looking over his shoulder. I do not want that for him.”

“Neither do Ah m’mech.” Jazz sighed heavily. “But that means that by going to OP, we’re takin’ the chance that the ‘Cons kill him.” he said bluntly.

Prowl flinched. “Yes.” He said, voice cracking. He reset his vocalizer, then tried again. “Yes.” he admitted. “But it is a chance we must take, if we truly wish for him to spend the rest of his life in safety and comfort.”

Jazz sighed, optics offlining as he leaned his full weight into his mate. “Alrigh’.” He murmured. “Ah don’ like it, but alrigh’.”

“I know, love. Neither do I.” He leaned down, stealing a brief kiss before he dragged his mate to the berth. “For now, let us rest. We must be at our best when we rejoin Optimus.”

Jazz followed him, casting one last look out the viewport in the direction they’d come from. “Hang on jus’ a little longer, sparklet.” He whispered. “Primus willin’, we’ll see you again someday.”

———————————————————————————————————

And here is is! The first part of my fic where Smokescreen is the JazzProwl secret sparkling. This one….took a while. But let me know what y’all think! (BTW for those who didn’t see the original post, here’s the one that inspired this.)

Also, the title for this fic comes from the song “Watermark” by Sleeping at Last.

Anywho, comments and shares are greatly appreciated! Feedback fuels my writer’s soul.

Until next time, folks!

#Watermarked Ancestry AU #this is what I’m calling this au for tumblr tagging purposes btw #tfp #transformers prime #smokescreen #tfp smokescreen #optimus prime #tfp optimus prime #Jazz #prowl #jazzprowl #smokescreen is a JazzProwl sparkling #he’s a tiny badass #but still a dumbass #transformers #maccadam

80 notes · View notes

self-destructive-self-isolated · 2 years ago

Note

gasps because what if........ baby, little sibling for springer.........

If asked, this bitlet was not planned, nor wanted. But those that were there, that witnessed the panic and the scrambling, the way Prowl held her with a grip so tight Tarantulas had to remind him to be gentle, those ones knew while Lumen was not planned, she was very much so wanted.

Neither of them carried her, at least at first - the constructicons had been working, laying out a foundation for yet another building on the recovering Cybertron, with Prowl supervising, as per usual, and they'd stumbled across a young hot spot - and they discovered it by digging up a tiny, far-too-young newspark. The ex-enforcer had panicked, because of course he had, and frantically called his old partner. She'd know what to do, his frazzled processor had helpfully supplied; they' had Springer together, after all.

The advice of "keep her inside" was literal. Because of course it was. But what choice had he had? It was either carry the tiny newspark the rest of the incubation period or...well, Prowl was many things but he wasn't about to let one of the first newsparks of the postwar world fizzle out because he was too chicken to be uncomfortable.

He didn't think he'd...be so in love with her. He'd started calling Tarantulas just to update her, eventually just visiting. Showing her the horrible attempts at making bitlet toys that the Constructicons were making, nursery plans. Eventually staying the night to ride out carrying pains and bicker about names.

Eventually just staying.

Neither are sure if the...events afterwards affected Lumen. The slowly developing affection had overtaken bitterness and worn away at the sickly feelings of discomfort between them. Prowl isn't sure when he started sharing a berth - the first night he fell asleep on Tarantulas's couch and was too heavy to be moved, or the first night the newspark beating against his own had become painful enough to cause worry - but he does know that it the first time the bitlet seemed to calm down and let him recharge.

Lumen's emergence was quiet, and Tarantulas recharges through the whole peaceful event. She wakes to an absence of warmth at her side, and to Prowl holding a tiny, all black spot of a bitlet, curled around her like a particularly large cat. He barely notices when she reaches to gentle his grip.

Lumen, of course, looks quite like her Carrier, but with six impossibly bright yellow optics, and curled claws that, as a tiny bitty, she had enjoyed comparing to Tarantulas's. Her plating stays mostly black, with soft purple accents and a pale white face and the most adorable little pout that had her Carrier wrapped around her little finger. Her alt mode comes as a surprise - she'd had no visible kibble as a tiny bitlet - but it becomes quite obvious when they turn around after mentioning bath time to find a tiny praying mantis skittering across the living room and into a vent.

Lumen grows to be tall and graceful, a bright spot of dark light as she chitters and sweeps through the room with a confidence neither Prowl nor Tarantulas could have taught her. She adores her brother, and often hangs over Springer's shoulders and whispers judgmental things to him from the safety of Way Up There.

And as far as she's concerned, even though she grew to be taller than both of her parents, Prowl is Mam, and Tarantulas is Mama, no matter how old she gets.

The Constructicons are all godsires and she thinks its funny as hell how they dug her up.

#noiizemaze #I GOT A LITTLE CARRIED AWAY #but I thought #there's no way these two would get close enough again for another baby #then thought #WHAT IF PANIC BABY #also im sorry tarantulas you got a cat #prowl did the cat thing of coming through the window and never left #long post #tw sparklings #under a readmore just for length #EDIT BECAUSE I FORGOT HER ALT MODE IS BASED ON THE DEVIL'S FLOWER MANTIS

13 notes · View notes

ask-uts-earthspark-au · 3 years ago

Note

Hey it's me Hayatsu or Kilios from your discord but I have a question for Ratchet

Who do the dinobots view as the mother and the father? If they don't exist yet then how did the others take to the twins antics?

Question 1!

Ratchet: … we specifically designed in updates for them NOT to look at anyone as parents.

Wheeljack: well, he designed it… *glare*

Ratchet: They’re meant to be mainly independent, and for the most part, completely understand that as Cold Constructs, they do not have parents, and while they can have figures like such, not to treat individuals as so.

Wheeljack: however! They do most commonly answer to us, amidst their havoc. So, perhaps us? Though they mainly keep to themselves. 🌺^v^🌸

— — — — — —

Question 2!

Wheeljack: oh, our bitlets! *giggle*

Ratchet: oh god…

Ratchet: the others - including Optimus - took surprisingly well to the boys. Their antics…

— Sun and Sides planning something across the room —

Wheeljack: most take it rather decently, so long as no one gets hurt, and nothing’s seriously fucked up.

Ratchet: it does get relatively annoying in general, and pisses everyone off when they, along with the other three little brats on this stupid base, are given assignment to wreak as much havoc as is safely and sanely possible, straight from Optimus. By that point, few are laughing, beside themselves, and Optimus.

30 notes · View notes

my-writings-and-musings · 4 years ago

Note

For the bot reader sparkling prompt what about Swerve and or Whirl? (I’m especially curious about Whirl’s reaction if the (or one) of the sparkling(s) resembles him pre-empurata) I would toss a possible Misfire in there too but I don’t think he’s a bot you usually do.

Hope you're ready for FEELS and CUTE SPARKLINGS because that's absolutely my favorite combo anon! Plus I'd always liked the Scavengers but never really looked into their appearance in the comic until now, and thank you for giving me the impetus to learn about the chaotic but still lovable gaggle of misfits.

Swerve

·He's admittedly been on a whole new level of euphoria since the two of you started dating, but the moment he found out you were gonna be Creators he more or less ascended. Every scan nearly brings him to tears and he keeps all the pictures on him wherever he goes, so any bot that comes near will be ambushed by a flood of bragging and a veritable album of a bitlet that hasn't even been born yet. Suffice to say that when it was finally time to meet your little bundle, he was emotional, though for your sake he remained a surprisingly steadfast and supportive partner through the entire emergence. But the moment he laid his visor on that squawling little bitlet...

·"Tears" aren't quite sufficient to describe the waterfall that poured from his visor, but thankfully the staff was quite accustomed to such reactions and smoothly checked over the newborn before handing them back to their new parents. As a metallurgist for a species made of metal that's at it's most vulnerable after birth, he's actually been present for a few sparklings entering the world to provide potential care for those considered high risk, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing your beautiful new bitlet in person.

·Between praising you and the beeb he can hardly get a coherent word out through the blubbering, but his awe and adoration is still clear as day. You made a whole new bot, and now they're here, and they're the most amazing little sparkling the planet has ever seen! Every feature of yours or his that he sees gets him crying anew, and he can't possibly fathom what he's done to deserve any of these blessings. Countless photos of their first few hours are accumulated to join his collection in addition to being shared via intergalactic Wi-Fi to every friend you have.

·When your chosen visitors arrive he's absolutely effusive with his praise of you and the beeb. Do they see this bitlet? Have any of them ever seen anything this precious in all of history?! His Conjunx made them isn't that the most amazing thing in the entire galaxy like how did they even do that?! Even bots who know him well are amazed by how genuinely tender and affectionate he is, as there's not a joke to be heard from him even once. Truthfully he can't think of anything funny about this at all, except maybe how even the tougher bots that visit absolutely melt when they see the sweet little face of a newborn amidst a bundle of blankets, but he can't really blame them now can he?

·Despite all of his joy for the two of you being Creators, when it's just you and him and the sparkling again, he's quite hesitant to ask if he can hold them. He's held them before in the rush of the moment, but here in the still and calm... It worries him. There's so much caution in his grip when he takes them into a gentle cradle, his bulky arms easily supporting the tiny weight despite how unnaturally heavy they feel. There's a flash of worry for all the chances he'll have to mess up, but that disappears when a little fist pops free of the blanket and into the bitlets mouth, where they contentedly suckle on it in the most adorable display he's ever beheld. Somehow he knows it will be okay in that moment, because he'll never let anything happen to you or your new little addition.

Whirl

·His reaction to his own prospective sirehood was a near perfect example of internal screaming beneath a veneer of calm. Of course he wasn't necessarily surprised, and he loved you more than anything in any universe, but... you've met him, right? Sure, you fragged him, but have you paid attention to the kind of bot he is? Do you really want any of this around a sparkling, or remixed into one? Admittedly he hadn't had an argument for your simple "yes" in reply, and to the day your little bitlet arrives he still can't think of a rebuttal, beyond how his claws don't give you much of a hand to hold or provide good massages.

·Somehow the entire process manages to be Unicron levels of unthinkable horror and awe inspiring beautiful wonder at the exact same time, and his attitude is even more varied as a result. There are moments he's the calm partner whispering sweet nothings, the aggressive coach shouting for you to kick labor's ass, the panicking wimp who refuses to believe the body parts he's seeing belong where they are, and the petrified but dutiful sire-to-be frozen in horror while you hold onto him for dear life. Thankfully he manages to reign it all in once the two of you have a newly minted bitlet wailing in the real world.

·He'd expected to be awed, but also knew to brace for seeing a bundle that... didn't much resemble his current self, due to Empurata not affecting genetics, but he never could have prepared himself for the reality. One look at this tiny and flawless little accident and he comes embarrassingly close to fainting, his long legs folding into a chair some brilliant medic was smart enough to push beside the bed, and his optic growing misty as he beholds you and the whole new person you made. There's awe at the fact he contributed to making something unbelievably perfect, happiness for a million reasons he doesn't care to comprehend, but also... sadness. A face he'd never thought he would see again is looking up at him with the biggest and most innocent pair of optics, all while a tiny mouth nibbles on a pair of servos so like the ones he had taken from him.

·He should be... angry, maybe? Old Whirl would have been angry, furious at the Functionists for ruining so much, but he just doesn't feel it. The sadness in his spark isn't even for him, it's for this little one who will grow up and eventually figure out why his sire looks the way he does, and all the pain that may cause a bot who never did anything to anyone... But that feeling is so small it's quickly swept away so he can feel what he actually wants to feel, and he wants to feel happy damn it! You and he have a bitlet, and a pretty good one as far as bitlets go! Heavy stuff can be addressed later, the two of you get to enjoy this with friends! There's precious few bots he trusts enough to visit, but those that make the cut are welcomed and invited to pay respects to the cutest sparkling ever born and the bot who squeezed them out. He has to fight incredibly hard to keep from shedding happy tears, but seeing so many of his friends coo over this tiny miracle strains his emotional reservation to the limits.

·For all the love he has for the little one, and all his progress in accepting himself, he still hasn't held them by the time night is settling and you're in need of rest. Only your obvious exhaustion and his protective nature compels him to finally accept the sleeping sparkling, and even then he's a wreck on the inside, his spark all but crackling with anxiety as the delicate beeb is laid in his arms while he stays carefully seated. Nothing could have made him understand just how tiny this little guy was until this moment. As you drift off, he tempts fate and holds out the tip of a careful claw, not daring to ventilate as he gently adjusts some blankets for a better look. Something like abject terror shoots through him as a stubby hand takes hold of him, but he doesn't move, and the little one only coos and keeps his solid little grip. At that he lets himself cry just a little. Nothing will ever hurt you or this tiny gift so long as he lives, and he won't let anything past present or future ruin the happiness you've made together.

Misfire

·His whole life he's had a soft spot for things that need caring for, but every time he's found something or someone to take care of he's told himself all he really cares about is the potential benefit for him. Recent events have forced him to admit that there's a soft spark under his... business savvy ways. Finding out he'd be a sire though? That was an entirely new level of self discovery, because he's absolutely thrilled and has no logical reason why. He quickly has to tell the rest of the Scavengers, which becomes daily updates on everything sparkling related, so even his close collection of friends is admittedly a little relieved when the bitlet finally arrives and they can meet them. Thankfully none of them were there to see him faint on more than one occasion during the delivery, but he does have to make up a story about the dents on his head when he calls to give the announcement that their newest Scavenger has arrived, claiming that he got them in a heroic dive to save the bitlet when they were still slippery and dropped by a medic.

·While never one to be too mushy, he's made incredibly sappy just by the sight of the new little bitlet when they finally end up clean and swaddled in your arms. All across the little one's features are pieces of him that he recognizes on the spot. Blended perfectly with those are obvious signs of you, creating a whole new being who's got some of you both while still existing as their own unique little wonder. It defies all logic and yet he's so happy he can't really bring himself to care. From their optics to their stubby hands to their impossibly cute little pedes they're already the most perfect being to ever come into existence, making them tied with his Creators for perfection, and no bot is ever going to be able to convince him otherwise on that undeniable fact. But, for the sake of the moment he does have to wonder; does this sparkling yet realize how attractive they're going to be?

·The group is getting a million messages a minute from the new sire as they head over to see the newest addition, and when they finally arrive he does everything he can to present the little beeb with a proper introduction but can't stop getting misty optics and sniffling the whole time. Thankfully the Scavengers are an understanding bunch. Every one of them welcomes their new teammate with a carefully observant Misfire there to ensure they don't risk any kind of damage to the bitlet. Not that he doesn't trust them, but he does know them, so... None of them take it personally. Nickel is spared this oversight, of course, being a responsible bot and a medic more than capable of holding even a proportionally sizable sparkling. One she informs the new Creators is very cute in her proffesional opinion.

·Grimlock gets a special little moment with the new Sire, specifically one in which he gets to truly see how far he's come with his little adopted family now that it's started to grow. Misfire is fully trusting as he hands over the snoozing bitlet, and while the Dinobot is beyond touched, he does indeed hesitate just the tiniest bit. Gigantic servos absolutely dwarf the sparkling when they're settled within. Despite what any bot walking into the room might think, Misfire knows that at this very moment his bitlet is more or less in the safest place in the universe. They seem to be at least somewhat aware of this, as their little tubby cheeks lift up in a smile when they behold the gigantic bot looking down on them, a sight so unimaginably adorable it makes every bot present shed at least a single tear.

·When the rest of the group heads out after leaving a mountain of gifts in their wake, Misfire happily takes the beeb so you can get some sleep, because he at least got some rest when he passed out during emergence. Holding his little one with just the tiniest hint of uncertainty, he spends the night mostly chatting with them in a fully one sided whisper conversation, though he does occasionally get a tiny sound from the sparkling he'll swear is a coherent reply. Understandably, this little one has a lot to catch up on though. He can't help smiling at the thought of all the adventures he's going to be able to brag about to them, and how many you'll all have together once this little one is up and finally walking. There's so much he'll have to teach them too, and somehow that excites him more, knowing you and he will get to help shape this little wonder into the most amazing bot that's ever lived...

#transformers #more than meets the eye #mtmte #idw #maccadam #tf #lost light #my writing #my asks #anon #swerve x reader #whirl x reader #misfire x reader #scavengers #transformers sparklings #bot reader #self insert #requests

165 notes · View notes

spymeister · 7 months ago

Text

@kytherion / continued from x.

Treble trundles right over to Soundwave, arms going up in an unspoken request to be picked up and loved on. Bass nestles right into said arms as he's also picked back up, followed by his smaller brother, Tempo. Jazz looks more amused than worried- arms crossing over his hood as he watches. His armor is relaxed, seams at normal width- and field an even, warm thing that ripples around him like eddies in a stream. His lips pull into a wider smile as Bass's optics are already starting to show the elliptical focusing irises rather than the standard circular lenses.

Finally, at the unspoken invitation- he finds a spot to settle down and lean against the wall. The bitlets start their half-babble and half-squeakings at Soundwave in bitlet-speak, their adopted carrier's grin widening. "Oh, they 'ad some big adventures. Traveled w'me for a fair bit, an' visited a few other mecha. Traveled t'Ratchet, got their antivirals an' medical codin' updated." His helm tilts slightly as he glances up at Soundwave. "How'boutchu, mech? How's the fam been?"

#ꜱ ᴏ ᴜ ɴ ᴅ ᴡ ᴀ ᴠ ᴇ » [ spymaster / erstwhile enemy / occasional friend. ]#ᴊ ᴀ ᴢ ᴢ » [ musician / assassin / all I want is to go home. ]

1 note · View note

corishadowfang · 4 years ago

Text

WIP Folder Tag Game

Tagged by @siarven--thanks for the tag!

Rules: List all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how ridiculous or non-descriptive the name is. Post a snippet from the document if anyone sends an ask/posts a comment, etc.!

So, uh...I technically don’t have a WIP folder...but I do have a truly obscene amount of documents dedicated to On my Heart. I will...hopefully get these into some sort of actual order.

The Actual Manuscripts:

On my Heart

On my Heart draft2

On my Heart draft3

On my Heart draft4

Other Writing (Deleted Scenes, Non-Canon Snippets, Random Snippets I Felt Like Writing, Etc.)

On my Heart alternate

On my Heart chapter excerpt

On my Heart draft4 snippets

On my Heart prologue

On my Heart v2

On my Heart2

OMH bitlet

OMH bitlet 2

OMH bitlet 3

OMH bits

OMH chapter 1 revised

OMH chapter bit

OMH chapter 8

OMH chapter cuts

OMH chapter part

OMH chapter revisions

OMH chapter rewrite

OMH concept stuff

OMH excerpt

OMH draft 4 trial scene

OMH extra

OMH prologue update

OMH ramblings

OMH scene

OMH scene1

OMH scene2

OMH scene3

OMH scene4

OMH work

Brainstorming and Outlines

On my Heart alternate idea

On my Heart chapters1

On my Heart draft 3 outline

On my Heart draft 4 general outline

On my Heart musings

OMH alternate

OMH brainstorming

OMH brainstorming take2

OMH character development

OMH character profile Salesman

OMH character profile Tsol

OMH information

OMH musings

OMH notes

OMH plot musings

OMH outline

OMH plot line

OMH plot line2

OMH plot map

OMH plot map2

OMH plot map3

OMH plotting

OMH plot line

OMH pm

OMH pros and cons list

OMH redraft idea

OMH stuff

OMH2 outline

Worldbuilding

On my Heart Background

OMH Familiars

OMH info

OMH world

OMH worldbuilding the government

OMH worldbuilding

I have...so many non-descriptive files that it’s really a wonder that I can find anything.

I will tag @pentopavement, @create-and-procrastinate, @scrawlsandrambles, @gotchaocha, and @woodlights, if any of you want to do this!

#tag game #wip folder tag game #on my heart

11 notes · View notes

badly-drawn-jazzwave · 5 years ago

Note

Does aura have any close friends? Any other bitlets?

Unfortunately, not many. She lacks her carrier’s charisma and takes more after her sire when it comes to social situations.

It’s led to quite a fair bit of bullying, mostly on behalf of Spitfire, Starscream and Skyfire’s bitlet. He’s a bit older and his time spent being raised in New Vos has allowed him exposure to the archaic ideologies of purism, which states that Seekers are the superior forms of Cybertronians and outliers, particularly ones like Soundwave and Aura, are inferior.

His bullying took the form of verbal taunts for most of their young life but as they got into their newer frame updates, Spitfire’s bullying became more physical and you’d often find him on top of some stairs, laughing and jeering while Aura struggles to get to her feet at the bottom of the flight.

She bears it with quiet dignity and after some time, her resilence ended up attracting the empathy of Thunderstorm, Bluestreak and Thundercracker’s creation. He started out protecting Aura from Spitfire’s contempt but eventually grew to like her as a friend, albeit Aura was a little hesitant to accept his friendship.

#jazzwave #jazz #soundwave #aura #thunderstorm #spitfire #skyfire #starscream #maccadam #asks #character asks

72 notes · View notes

anon-e-miss · 2 years ago

Text

The Desert Blooms, 5

Though Punch had suggested Prowl would have the choice between death and bonding, he did not place much hope in it. He had been Windbreaker’s puppet and Prowl knew those below Darkmount would demand vengeance. A clean death was all Prowl truly hoped for; it seemed like not so unreasonable a hope. They did not speak of it, Prowl and Barricade. What Barricade was thinking, what Barricade was planning could not be known with any certainty by Prowl but he had his theories and they all terrified him. No matter how much he begged, Barricade refused to leave his side. Prowl could not let his brother die senselessly but he had no power to stay Barricade’s servo when facing his own execution but that was all he could think about. The memory purge that had woken him nearly every dark-cycle in the last orn was seeing Barricade cut down before the executioner took his helm.

Neither of them had recharged well in the last few mega-cycles. They had been surrounded by enemies since the first mega-cycle they had landed in Polyhex. It had been different, however, when the most immediate danger had been the council. Greed and fear had stayed their servos; the Polyhexians had nothing to fear of him. Prowl tended to the garden and tried to think of anything but the reoccurring memory purge. Downshift was an amiable mech, so far as a prison guard could be concerned, but it was still his face the executioner in Prowl’s memory purges war and in his tired state, Prowl could not entirely stop himself from shying from the mech.

“Inside, both o’ ya,” Downshift ordered. Next to Prowl, Barricade bristled but he rose as Prowl did. When Barricade swayed, it was their guard who caught his arm and steadied him. “Come along. Lost track o’ time, did ya? Ya don’t want Ratchet comin’ down on ya for overheatin’.”

“I did,” Prowl said. “Barricade, you should have told me you were feeling poorly.”

“I didn’t notice,” his brother replied. “I’m fine.”

“Settle in,” Downshift ordered, gesturing to a settee. Prowl had not made any use of this space, a sitting room of sorts, just off the garden. It was clearly designed for entertaining and Prowl had never entertained guests. “I’ll be back wit coolant.”

“We had our ration,” Prowl said.

“All the same,” Downshift replied. “Ya need it, so y’ll have it.”

Prowl’s spark continued to raise as he watched their guard go. What sort of trouble had he caused him and Barricade, forgetting the time and the heat. Barricade said nothing but he looked weary and Prowl felt guilty for not having noticed, too wrapped up in his own troubles. Guilt made Prowl’s glossa thick and his vocalizer full of concrete. He should apologize for being careless, for making him ill. Already, Prowl felt fairly well, his white paint was some protection but Barricade’s black paint made him for vulnerable to the desert heat. As Barricade flopped back against the cushions, sighing audibly, Prowl only stiffened.

“I am sorry,” Prowl said. “I was not thinking.”

“No, you were thinking, you’re always thinking,” Barricade replied. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed again. “Me too. I didn’t notice the time either.”

“Alright, where’s the patient?” Ratchet groused as he lumbered in. Barricade sat up sharply. Prowl sat up sharper himself. The medic was wearing a carrier, there was no question that the bitlet inside of it was Praxian.

“He snuck up on me,” Downshift explained as he followed Ratchet inside, coolant in servo. “‘N even though I told’m ya just need a bit o’ coolant, he’s the medic ‘n he can’t help but poke ‘n prod.”

“How did you come to have a newling, Ratchet?” Prowl asked. He had no interest in the coolant but was fixed on the little bitlet.”

“Downshift here, found him in rubble after the riot,” Ratchet explained. “Fools didn’t know the family lived in the back of the shop when they firebombed it. I figured he’d like an update.”

“Hard to believe the lil bit made it wit only some minor burns,” Downshift said. “Considerin’ the rest o’em died in that fire.”

“Can I see him?” Prowl asked.

“Sure,” Ratchet replied, he plucked the bitlet from the carrier. “That’ll help while I give Cade a once over. The little mech doesn’t like getting put down.”

“Hello, little one,” Prowl crooned at the newling when Ratchet handed him over. Gingerly, imagining how tender his sentio-metallico would be, Prowl rocked the newling. The bitlet stared at him a moment before he smiled and babbled. “You are a little miracle.”

Nothing else existed for a moment. The bitlet looked at him and Prowl could not tare his optics away. Where the newling’s sentio-metallico had burned was now glossy as the nanite salve Ratchet would have used to sooth and to heal him. New sentio-metallico was tender and Prowl was careful not to apply too much pressure. It grieved him deeply that this bitty mechling had suffered so already, that he had lost so much already. Prowl had known, realistically he had known there would be loss of life as Darkmount had descended into chaos the dark-cycle before Punch’s forces had entered the city. Still, it was different to see it, to know this innocent bitlet had been orphaned. Did he have any kin left in Darkmount? Did he have kin in Praxus? If he did, could he withstand the journey across the desert?

“Everythin’ a’ight here?” Punch asked as the defacto leader of Polyhex appeared alongside his honour guard. “Ratchet?”

“They’re fine,” Ratchet said.

“Told ya, didn’t I?” Downshift declared. “Spent a lil too long in the garden is all. Ratchet turned up while I was gettin’ coolant.”

“Our old friend do seem to appear when he’s least convenient,” Punch declared. “‘M guessin’ it was Barricade who felt the heat a bit keener.”

“I’m fine,” Barricade groused.

“It’s the black paint,” Punch said, unbothered by the Praxian’s tone. Prowl looked up from the bitlet to give his brother a look. The bitlet cooed and Prowl looked back and him, tickling his belly. “Where’d the bitty come from?”

“My clinic,” Ratchet replied. “He’s the newling Downshift rescued from the fire.”

“Those fools are gonna have the privilege o’ bein’ defendants in the first trial o’ the new dynasty,” Punch declared.

“Really?” Prowl asked, looking up from the newling again.

“They killed innocent mechanisms,” Punch said. “If Downshift hadn’t ordered the neighbouring shop pulled down, the fire coulda spread to the whole city ‘n killed tens o’ thousands, even more. Why wouldn’t we hold’em to account?”

“War,” Prowl replied. “They could be excused as combatants.”

“Mm,” Punch hummed, taking a seat on the settee across from the one Prowl and Barricade were occupying. His guard hung back. “I heard that exact argument from a war chief. Do ya think those shopkeeps outta been counted as soldiers?”

“No,” Prowl replied. He sighed. “But many of their neighbours would have called them occupiers and have seen them in no different a light than the contingent.”

“That’s why ya gave that condition,” Punch guessed. “Ya wanted to see to stop any slaughter.”

“Yes,” Prowl said. He looked down at the bitlet who was dozing against his chassis.

“Ya did well by’em,” Punch said. “Ya did well by yer framekin ‘n mine. When I was young, mecha o’ all frametypes settled in Polyhex, following the Crystal Road ‘n all were held to one law. I intend for that to hold true now. There’ll be a trial. What a jury says, well that I don’t control. Much as I might like to. I think ya understand.”

“I do,” Prowl replied. “I only question how much taste those below will have to see it done.”

“Y’re a clever one,” Punch said. “I hope the jury is as well.”

“I would think they would find my trial more palatable,” Prowl replied. Barricade groaned.

“They may well,” Punch agreed.

“I would ask, prior to any such event, that Barricade be returned to Praxus,” Prowl said.

“No!” Barricade snapped.

“He will not go willingly,” Prowl continued his entreaty. “You would likely need to have him restrained and perhaps sedated.”

“Prowl...” Barricade growled.

“He will peaceably allow any verdict to be carried out,” Prowl explained. “I do not wish to see him die for such foolishness. My originator would appreciate his return.”

“I am not fragging going!” Barricade snapped.

“Ya already chose, did ya?” Punch asked. Prowl’s optics reset as his battle computer hiccuped.

“No... not precisely,” he said. “I concluded it was unlikely such a choice would ultimately be allowed.”

“The War Chiefs ain’t thrilled ‘bout it but they agreed, in a fashion,” Punch replied. “It’s a choice for both o’ ya to make.”

“Barricade is innocent in this,” Prowl argued. “The Emperor only knows him to be my personal guard. It was my originator’s excuse to bring him into our home when he was orphaned.”

“He is loyal to ya,” Punch said. “Loyal to ya o’er all, includin’ his own life. ‘M not wrong, am I, Barricade?”

“You aren’t,” Barricade replied. “I’m not leaving Prowl and I will kill anyone who tries to put cuffs on me, Prowl.”

“Barricade, please,” Prowl begged.

“I thought as much,” Punch said. “It happens I admire loyalty, especially between kin. Jazz, Ricochet, stops skulkin’ ‘n sit. I won’t bother suggestin’ Ratchet go. ‘Cause I know he won’t ‘n it’s not a battle I care to fight.”

“You’d lose,” Ratchet replied, settling in on the settee to Prowl’s right. Oddly begrudgingly, in Prowl’s observation, the twin guards sat on the same settee as Punch. “Is he actually recharging?”

“Yes?” Prowl replied, surprised by Ratchet’s shock.

“He hasn’t settled once since he’s been in my care,” Ratchet replied. “If I’d realized you had such a good touch with bitties, I’d have brought him over sooner.”

“I... do not?” Prowl said. “I have never held a bitlet.”

“Ya wouldn’t know it,” Punch declared. “Poor thing’s probably been sore, stressed ‘n confused ‘n too young to communicate it. He finally feels safe so he’s dropped right off.”

“I suppose,” Prowl said, stroking the bitlet’s helm. “He seems content for the moment. There is no need to drag this out. What is this choice you have for both of us?”

“Bondin’ or death, as I said before, but ‘m ‘fraid,” Punch said. He looked... irritated but it did not seem as if he was angry with Prowl. “If ya choose death, as I promised, it’ll be a clean one. ‘N I give ya might word, I will get yer brother safely away, if we have to use a blow dart.”

“Shh, please,” Prowl said when Barricade growled and his plating flared.

“I thought I was supposed to have a choice?” Barricade asked, peevishly.

“You cannot possibly mean to choose to die out of spite?” Prowl asked, warn to the bone with this circular argument. The gold-faced twin snickered as Barricade glared.

“I can choose not to agree to any term that means you die without a fight,” Barricade countered. “I will fight.”

“Why didn’t ya flee?” Jazz asked Prowl.

“My face is carved on monuments and coin,” Prowl replied. “I could not realistically slip away unrecognized. I tried to get Barricade to slip away but he would not if I did not go with him. I saw know way it could go but with violence.”

“Even to save y’re own life, ya didn’t wanna hurt anyone,” Jazz said.

“I never wanted anyone to come to harm,” Prowl said. “Not Praxian, not Polyhexian.”

“It wasn’t a reward to be sent to governor here, was it?” Punch guessed.

“No,” Prowl replied. “It was a banishment. I argued with the Emperor too many times.”

“Petty aft,” Punch said.

“That’s an understatement,” Barricade said. “He never forgave Camshaft for not drowning Prowl at emergence. The glyph “no” doesn’t go over well with him.”

“Why would he wanna have had ya drowned?” Punch asked.

“I have a processor glitch,” Prowl replied. “It is manageable, but a disgrace all the same.”

“Yer originator was brave to defy a mech like Emperor Windbreaker,” Punch said.

“He is fearless,” Prowl said. “And keenly intelligent. I have been fortunate to have him for my originator.”

“No bond was arranged for ya,” Punch observed.

“Only the Emperor could approve a bond and my originator did not care for his taste of mech,” Prowl explained. “He loathed the mech that sired me on him who had been chosen by his originator. He did not care that the mech carried on affairs. He care very much that he refused to provide for his by-blow and paramour.”

“I don’t believe he’d approve o’ the bond ‘m offerin’ ya,” Punch declared. “Since he sounds decent. The choice is for both o’ ya, more or less. The choice is to bond to one o’ my creations, Jazz or Ricochet. But it ain’t so simple as that even. To be fit to bond, by optics o’ the war chiefs, ya must accept the Touch o’ Adaptus.”

“That’s outrageous!” Ratchet snapped.

“Do ya honest to Primus think that was my idea?” Punch asked, sharply.

“What is the Touch of Adaptus?” Prowl asked.

“They call it a blessin’, it’s really a curse,” Punch explain. “There’s a crystal in the desert called the Hand o’ Adaptus. For the Touch, a brew is made o’ the fruit o’ the crystal. When the brew’s drunk, it poisons the frame, it changes the code. The spike shrivels ‘til there’s nothin’ left. The protoform is left sensitive, tender. Armour is so painful, the Touched wear cloth, or nothin’ at all. It cannot be referred ‘cause the poison stays in the code ‘n even if a medic tried to replace the spike o’ a Touched, it would also shrivel. It’s agony. A Touched mech is a trophy, an ornament, a brooder, a thing.”

“How is Barricade a part in this?” Prowl asked, stiffening. “Would he be expected to find the crystal?”

“A guard so loyal to ya makes the war chiefs, ‘n others suspicious,” Punch replied. “If ya accept the Touch, if Barricade wants to stay at yer side, he has to accept the Touch as well ‘n bond to whichever o’ my creations ya don’t.”

“Who are your creations?” Prowl asked. Punch chortled.

“Jazz ‘n Ricochet.”

#valveplug #maccadams #tf prowl #tf jazz #tf barricade #tf ricochet #tf punch #tf ratchet #anon-e-miss writes #the desert blooms

70 notes · View notes

x-de-con-struct-ed-x--arch · 5 years ago

Text

@somebluebotsandbadjokes - [ x ]

It isn’t, like. At all. But hey, If you need help, I’ve got some experience, at least with the biting, flying fire breathing kind.

...Primus. I don’t think mine and Kup’s will be the biting, flying, fire-breathing kind - neither of us has the coding for such traits, as far as I know, although I’m probably testing my luck saying something like that. That’s how this happened in the first place.

But I appreciate the offer! I’ll definitely keep you updated and in mind. I’m sure everything will be alright after the emergence, though; Kup has raised a lot of younglings and he already has a bitlet himself. I’m sure it’ll be fine.

#((you sound like you're trying to convince /yourself/ their old mecha))#((he's worried about Kup carrying more than anything))#((they're both old and Ironhide doesn't want anything bad to happen :') ))#somebluebotsandbadjokes #Turquoise #:: 🌠 :: welcome to the new age [ v: canon ]#:: 💫 :: the earth beneath me [ t: TF 2007-DotM ]

3 notes · View notes

ask-drunk-wheeljack · 5 years ago

Text

About Wheeljack!

[[mun post]]

I thought it might be helpful to people RPing with me for me to have an about thingy with some stuff specific to my iteration of Wheeljack, so here it is! This includes character development from previous rp I’ve done as well as my personal headcanons and backstory. I will update as necessary. Since a lot of these hc’s are angsty and possibly triggering to some readers, I’ll put everything under a read more. It’s also gon be heckin long.

CW: mental illness, abuse and neglect mentions, miscarriage mention, drug/alcohol use mentions, NSFW mentions

Backstory

Early life:

Jackie was abandoned by his creators when he was less than a month old. He was unwanted, so they dumped him at an orphanage. He didn’t even have a designation (name). He was neglected heavily and required nursing back to health upon arrival

He was adopted, then returned several times. His broken spark bond made him difficult to bond with. He also cried a lot and was an emotionally fragile sparkling. He ended up with abusive families as well, who refused to be patient with him. He was made fun of by other sparklings for being a “crybaby” and for being plain (he was white without any detailing when he was a sparkling, he’s had detailing added because he’s self conscious of his coloration even today), as well as being taken back by several families

he had his first crush on a homeless sparkling residing near where he was at the time. He was returned yet again and lost contact with him, meaning he lost yet another person he cared about. He stayed out of relationships for quite some time after that, believing he would never find love again

He got a job at the human equivalent of 14-15 to get out of the system. It was illegal for him to have a job of the sort he had (he worked in a chemistry lab without proper training), so he was subjected to abuse from his superior. He was used almost daily, to “return the favor” of having a job that could support him at such a young age.

He began doing a lot of drugs and he drank a lot once he entered academy to become an engineer. He stayed out of relationships but did a lot of interfacing not only because he was needy, but to forget about his other, negative experiences. He regrets doing this now since there’s pictures/films of him on the data net somewhere.

He played with spark play with someone he was hooking up with at the time. He messed it up and got sparked, but when the sparkling was supposed to drop into his gestational chamber, it didn’t form correctly and re-merged with his spark. His spark is now irregularly shaped due to the partially formed bitlet merging back with it.

Due to this, his spark beat will occasionally be irregular. It scares him at times, but he fully believes his sparkling is trying to speak to him through the irregular beating.

Younger years:

he met Ratchet and fell very, very hard for him. He never wanted sparklings since he was treated so badly as one, but he wanted nothing more than to have a family with Ratchet. He was going to propose to him, but his fear of commitment still lingered

He and Ratchet were friends with benefits for a while and partied together a lot. He fell very hard for the medic in that time.

He left to join the wreckers during the war, unknowingly leaving Ratchet sparked. He couldn’t figure out why his spark hurt constantly during his absence, attributing it to having his spark broken from leaving Ratchet, not knowing his sparkling was trying to obtain spark energy from him.

He sank back into a cycle of drinking and partying, doing his best to forget about his spark break. He didn’t really interface much since he missed the way it was when he was in love. It hurt (since Jackie is a very needy mech in that aspect) but it just wasn’t the same without Ratchet.

General Facts

He still parties, but he is far less self destructive than he used to be (he needs to work on not drinking when he’s sad). He always has a cube of high grade around for anybot wanting to party with him or simply relax and chat.

He is still a little bit internally fragile; he has flashbacks occasionally, and he suffers from night terrors and sleepwalking.

He’s an excellent cook. Boy can cook and bake just about any sort of thing you can imagine.

He loves spicy snacks. He doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth but won’t turn down some good sweets.

He’s terrible at comforting people, but will do his best. He’ll likely offer you a cube of high grade cos that’s how he deals

He will joke and tease you endlessly. That’s just how he shows affection. Tell him to back off and he will

Jackie doesn’t really stick in one relationship all that much, but when he does, he’s literally the best boyfriend.

WheelRatch au (main au you will see come up on my timeline):

He was reunited with Ratchet and became conjunx with him. Ratchet was still in love with him, and he was still in love with Ratchet, so their flame was reborn quickly.

Jackie has adopted several children as his own. He loves giving a good family to bots that don’t have one, just like he didn’t.

Having Ratchet (and now pharma) to cuddle him at night greatly reduces his night terrors.

He reunited with Pharma (whom he had been with when he was young), not knowing who he was, and fell for him. They are now conjunx as well and have recently found out who the other is (that pharma is Jackie’s first crush he knew all those years ago)

SG! AU

Horrible boy. Do not trust this mech

He is a hitman and deals drugs on the side, as well as selling parts from his victims.

He has been to medical school and has a medical degree

He will play your mind, either for fun or to get information about his next victim. If he’s playing for fun, you’re screwed. Because if you become wise to his twisted game, you join his victims in the scrap heap.

His methods of killing are varied, but normally he befriends the victim and asks them to come over. Usually he’ll play a bit before he finishes them (he has a torture room in his base of operation, Ratchet runs a torture room in the basement), but if he’s pressed for time he usually tears out their vocalizer and tears out their spark. Everything else is Ratchet’s doing.

He is conjunx with Ratchet, but has no sexual loyalty whatsoever (granted neither does Ratchet). He will interface with anyone and everyone.

He and Ratchet can hardly be considered “lovers”. They merely have an unwritten contract that they don’t turn each other in, ever, nor do they kill each other. They bail each other out, but at a great cost. They are fairly regularly experimenting on each other while the other is in recharge. They don’t have to trust each other; they know full well what’s happening but revel in each other’s sickness.

He gives off a warm aura, which causes people to trust him. Since he makes so much money in his business, he has the money to buy them drinks or spot them when needed.

He thrives off of having power over others. Some of why he loves his job so much.

I repeat. Do not trust him.

Human AU

As a young boy, Jackie was abandoned at an orphanage. He did get adopted but his parents didn’t generally care about him.

He became a notorious troublemaker at school, but he only ever got into fights with the bullies and defending the kids that got picked on

He barely scraped by with his grades, instead opting to use his parents’ lack of caring to grow and sell drugs, as well as hook people up with other goods and services

He was that kid who always “knows a guy” and made money as a middleman

As he got older, he got into playing with computers and hacking, as well as fixing things. He became quite good at fixing things on his own, and started making money fixing things for people.

As an adult, Jackie went on to become a mechanic. He generally enjoys what he does

He’s very similar to his robot counterpart otherwise.

#about jackie #bio #about section

7 notes · View notes