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human-do-a-worm · 4 years ago

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Ramblings of an Old Soldier Part 3/3

Sorry about the wait. The second dose of COVID vaccine drains you a lot more than the first dose. Anyways here’s part 3, part 1 and part 2 can be found here.

Admiral Sturm sat on the park bench as he always did. Sipping on his coffee and reading the latest news from his datapad. Once again, the Unkall boy approached him and sat beside him on the bench. He noticed that the aging Terran was wearing a strange uniform, with the image of a furred beast embroidered on the chest and upper right arm.

“Good afternoon Mr. Sturm.” “Ah, hello there son. Back for story time again?” “Yes sir. I was wondering what happened after the summit. Almost all traces of you vanished from records 8 cycles ago, and the only mentions of you after that were how the Terran Navy wanted you back.”

“Well, as I said the other day, I became a merc. My crew and I were the best. We took contracts from the Segmentum Norrus, all the way down to the Serectan Void. We didn’t work like most mercenary groups. We sought out our clients, and saw a lot of business. Everything from running escort duty on supply runs to desperate worlds, to taking down entire groups of bandits and pirates. Wherever we went, outlaws and tyrants alike feared the sight of The Wolf’s Den.”

“The Wolf’s Den? I think we heard about a group of people using that ship last cycle in our Galactic History class. Something about taking part in the Gingral war, only a few cycles ago.” “Ah yes, the Gingral war. Some of the bloodiest fighting I’ve ever seen. That was the last contract my crew and I took. We started off in a small role; mostly just escorting supply freighters to the border colonies since most of the supply lines had been cut and the colonists were starving. Our last supply run had been going well, until 6 light cruisers decloaked and opened fire. We did the best we could, but the supply freighter carrying food and civilians was destroyed in only a few minutes.”

“We could have escaped after that. Made a jump to the nearest Unkall station and gotten reinforcements, but My crew and I all knew what had to be done. We knew that the Gingral had to pay. They may have outnumbered us 6 to 1, and they may have had us outgunned, but they didn’t account for us having a mark 7 jump core. We warped around behind them and took down 2 of the light cruisers rather easily, but then we took a hit. The jump core cut out, and we were relying only on engine power.”

“But The Wolf’s Den must have survived somehow. The history logs said that it served through the entirety of the Gingral War.”

“That’s almost right. We knew that we wouldn’t be able to keep her together much longer, so we did what all Terrans do in situations like this. We became unpredictable. We gave all power to weapons and blasted the furthest ship from us, then mustered to the airlocks. We put on EVA gear and as soon as we were close enough to the next ship, we boarded.” “Wasn’t ship boarding added to the prohibited activities of War after the Terran war?” “It was, but targeting civilians has always been among the prohibited activities of War, so we were still committing a lesser infraction. We blasted open the port hangar with a plasma charge, and cleared the first room. Then we cleared the rest of the ship up to the bridge and took out the last remaining light cruiser. Changed the comms channels to the ones we had on The Wolf’s Den, then modified the IFF tag accordingly. When we arrived at the Unkall station we had just left, they demanded an explanation, so we told them what happened.” “And you weren't reprimanded?”

“Oh, we were. There was even a small tribunal held to determine if we could still fight. That’s when the call came in. Rakthis had been attacked, with only a handful of survivors. I immediately got up and started heading to my ship. The Unkall admiral demanded to know where I was going. After calmly telling him that there was now a full scale war, we had work to do. I went to the hangar and got the light cruiser repaired and ready for combat, but not before renaming it. The Wolf’s Den was never destroyed, it just became another ship.”

“What happened next?” the Unkall boy asked. “Weren’t the forces around Rakthis said to be uncounted?”

“They were, that’s why we didn’t go to Rakthis. We went to Waalon instead. Then to Rek’lon, and finally to Scrurros. Everywhere we went, we pushed back the Gingral horde. My first mate, Sarah Callingham, had family on the outer colonies back in the Vrumoid war. Saw most of them killed in front of her when their shuttle was shot down leaving atmosphere on Vrall VII. Scrurros was a tough nut to crack, and she had more crafty ideas than I did. We landed The Wolf’s Den on the uninhabited side of the planet, then bought a grav truck from one of the farmers. It was hard to weld the armor plates on it at the right angle, but mounting the lasguns and mortar was rather simple. I stood in the back, manning two of the lasguns and the mortar while she and two other soldiers were up front in the cab. We got almost to the planetary capital before we faced any resistance.”

“But the history logs said that Scrurros didn’t fall until the later end of the war.” “That’s right. We couldn’t take the planet as easily as we’d taken the others. When the first mortar hit the shield on the planetary governance center, we knew we were in for a fight. We got the truck away with only a few shots on the armor, but we were pursued by the planetary militia. One of the armored gun trucks fired their heavy las gun and took out the rear grav drive. With the back end of the truck along the ground, our speed tanked to a crawl. I was able to keep the militia back for a while by pinning them down with the lasguns, but then another shot hit us, dead center mass.”

“How bad was it? Were you alright?”

“I made it out with only a few scratches, scrapes, and bruises, but Sarah and the others up front weren't so lucky. The shot penetrated the cab and blew up at the steering linkage. Only Sarah, myself, and the one crewman in the back with me made it out of that. We ducked into a nearby building for cover, only to find that it was a school. Not wanting to put the civilians in danger, we lightly dressed Sarah’s wounds and went on into the forest surrounding the city. We came to a cave at the foot of a mountain, and made camp inside.” “Who was the other crewman that was with you? I notice that you haven’t said his name yet.”

“His name was Richard Grumman. He was the newest addition to The Wolfpack, joining us less than a cycle ago. We hadn’t had much time to get to know each other. The Militia found us in the first week, and he was shot to death on the night they raided the cave. Sarah and I managed to get away, but we were far from being safe. The next night we got a transmission from The Wolf’s Den; They had been found, and were wondering what to do. Sarah and I were at least four days away from the ship, so I made the call and told them to leave while they had the chance, to keep fighting and never forget about us.” “So you willingly stranded yourself and an injured crewmate on a hostile planet just to save your crewmates? The stories about the Terrans must be true.” “You’ll learn that those stories don’t even tell half the story if you stick on a Terran ship for even half a cycle. Anyways, there we were, just me and Sarah on Scrurros. I treated her wounds the best I could, but she wasn’t getting much better. Eventually she died, less than half a cycle into our time on that world. I retired with her body to the farmer who sold us the truck, and paid him to let me bury Sarah on his property. Much like with the freighter, the Gingral would pay. I took stock of what I had. Two lasguns, three fragmentation grenades, an energy grenade, and a plasma charge. Not nearly enough to take on the forces of the planet, but maybe enough to make it possible.”

“So what did you do? The Gingral don’t just let prisoners get away. Especially not in the middle of a war.” “Well, I couldn't just storm the Planetary Governance Center. That would accomplish nothing but my own death. Instead I went for something better. Three grids away from the Governance Center was the Defense Center. The plan was simple. Get inside, break as much stuff as I could, and hope that was enough to take down their defenses. It took me ten days to reach the capital again, and another three to figure out how to get inside. Turns out the Gringal didn’t make their roof as secure as they should have. I opened up the ventilation system and got inside. From there it was a short trip to the bunker exterior.”

“Aren’t Gingral bunkers some of the hardest to break open in the entire galaxy? How did you get inside?” “Simple; I didn’t break in; I snuck in. I kicked out the vent and got inside the bunker, then closed and locked the door behind me and smashed the controls. There were only technicians and a few soldiers inside, who were easy enough to dispatch. The harder part was accessing the communications room. Aside from the door of the bunker itself, the communications room was the most secure place in the facility. The door was half a meter thick, and barred at six points. That would prove to be a great challenge, so I left it for later. I quickly found the controls to the weapons system, and took it down. The planet was now mostly defenseless against ships in orbit and low atmosphere.”

“So you took down the guns, but how did you get in?”

“The door was too hard to get through, so I made my own instead. I went above the room and opened up the three fragmentation grenades. Terrna frag grenades use a pressure sensitive explosive to detonate, so I poured it out above the room, then placed the plasma charge on top of it. I ducked out of the room and waited for the explosion. When that charge went off, it was as if the whole planet shook. When I went in to check on the hole, the charge had only just broken through the floor. It took hours for me to get the hole wide enough for me to wriggle inside, but it was worth it. I contacted the Unkall fleet, and they were there within the week. The planet fell and I was pulled from the bunker before the food and water stores were even dented.”

“So that’s why taking Scrurros was so easy for the fleet. There wasn’t as much resistance as the planet originally had. And you were the one to take it down?”

“That’s right. After the war, I was broken. My knees were all but useless for fighting, and I could barely stand without swaying. The Unkall empire never forgot what my crew and I did. We were paid many times more than what was written in our contract, and they even got me a home right here on Unkall Prime. Now I sit here, enjoying retirement in my old age. Though the Terran lifespan is almost 50 cycles, we’re usually out of our working years after only 30 cycles. Our bodies are too old and weak to do most of the hard tasks that we normally would.”

“So what do you do now? Surely after a life like yours you want to do something just as exciting after you’re done working.”

“I mostly just read now. When you spend your life as a soldier, you miss out on so much. I never settled down and had kids, and my time for that is even drawing to a close. I did take up a few hobbies here and there, but nothing really stuck. I still work part time for the Unkall empire, training their soldiers in virtual reality simulations is about all I can do, but I’ve given the Unkall the strength to protect their planets, and given their generals and admirals the knowledge not to go on any missions they will regret. I’m happy with the contributions I’ve made in my life, and if I had the chance, I’d do it all over again. By the way, I never did catch your name.”

“My name is Ruthal Nerzak, and I’m slotted to be a soldier in the Unkall Defense Force.”

“Well Ruthal, I hope we will meet again someday.”

With that, Ruthal stopped recording and went home, finishing his final report.

A few days later, Ukall prime came under attack. A colonial independence group made numerous strikes around the city, and Ruthal had been caught outside on his way home from class. He tried to run away, but was chased by one of the insurgents down an alleyway, when suddenly two lasgun shots rang out. Ruthal though he was dead, but he slowly opened his four eyes and saw that the terrorist was dead on the ground in front of him. Looking up, he was me with a familiar face

“Thank you Mr. Sturm, I thought I was surely dead.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we’re seven grids away from the nearest shelter, and there’s enemies all around us. You said you wanted to be a soldier, well your training just started early.”

Sturm handed Ruthal the lasgun from the dead insurgent, and after showing him how to fire and teaching him how to make sure it doesn’t overheat, he led the Unkall boy out of the alley and down the street. Two blocks later, Sturm pulled the Unkall boy into an alley.

“Alright son, listen up. There’s about fifty armed and angry people between us and shelter. Our espace routes have been mostly cut off, so I need you to listen to me and listen well. When I tell you to run, you run as fast as you can. We should be able to get past most of them by taking the alleys across the street. I picked up some kit off one of these guys. The flashbang should buy us enough time to cross the street, but I’ll have to think of something after we get to our next crossing.”

Sturm threw the flashbang far into the crowd of terrorists, blinding a dozen of them and allowing them to cross the street. After seeing how many insurgents were at their crossing point, Sturm and Ruthal entered a tall residence building across from a big shootout between the insurgent and Unkall forces.

“Alright, we don’t stand a chance of crossing that. Here’s the plan. We’ll get up high, and then open fire on them. If nothing else, we’ll draw their attention away from the defense forces and allow them to break through.”

“I can’t. They’re people, just like us.” “Look around you kid. There’s men, women, and children all gunned down by these guys. I’m not sure what that makes them in Unkall society, but to us Terrans, they’re no longer people; they’re monsters. As a soldier, our job is to get rid of the monsters, so that everyone can sleep soundly at night knowing they’re safe. Taking a life isn’t something one does lightly, but it’s still something that has to be done. It’s better that we take them out, because if we don’t, who knows how many more people they’ll kill. We don’t do this because we like killing, we do this because we love the people we protect, and we’d give anything to keep them safe.”

“But I don’t want to hurt them.”

“I understand. I’m not sure if the Unkall have a saying like this, but Terrans sure do. You have a big heart. You want to keep people safe, not put them in the ground. But sometimes the best way to keep people safe is to put bad people in the ground. We’re between a rock and a hard place. If we sit here and do nothing, they will continue to hold this street, but if we can take them down, even just one or two of them, we can make them fight on two sides, which is the easiest way to break through an enemy line. I recognize a few of the soldiers I can see from up here. I trained them myself. They’ll realize what’s going on and they’ll do the heavy lifting; we just need to give them a helping hand. So, are you ready?”

The young Unkall nodded, then Sturm and Ruthal braced their lasguns on the windowsill, and opened fire on the street below. As Sturm said, the insurgents shifted their position, attempting to defend against incoming fire from two directions. As the Unkall defense forces broke the lines, a single shot came from the street and hit Sturm in the neck

Bleeding badly, Sturm stumbled back, Ruthall catching him in his arms. As he was losing his grasp on consciousness, Sturm held Ruthalls hand

“Never forget what happened here. Never forget the atrocities you saw with your own eyes, and never be afraid to rise up against the monsters who make things like this happen.”

With that, Sturm closed his eyes. Unkall security forces soon burst into the room, seeing the state of the old Terran, they gave him the best aid they could, and sent him off to the hospital, with Ruthall at his side.

After a lengthy surgery and two pints of blood, Sturm woke up in his hospital room, Ruthall asleep on his lap. Colonel Rengar, a soldier in the Unkall defense forces entered the room.

“So Admiral, I see your retirement is going well.”

“Can the crap Colonel. How many did we lose?”

“Casualties are still being counted, but even one is too many.”

“And what about the boy, Ruthall. Why is he still here?"

"His family were among those killed in the attack. We haven’t told him yet, just that we’re still looking for them.”

“So what will happen to him?”

“We don’t know. He doesn’t have any living family, and in our culture friend’s do not step in for situations like these. He will likely be left to become an adoptee for some family here, but after this, I’m not sure who would adopt him.”

“I will.”

“What? You can’t be serious. The looks he would get, especially here in the capital. I’m not sure if he can take it.”

“He knows my story. He knows that I take care of the ones I call family. He didn’t hesitate to pick up a rifle and follow me through the streets today, and he only barely hesitated to fight beside me. He’ll make a fine soldier, and he’ll make a damn good son. Get me the documents dammit.”

“Very well.”

Ruthall woke up, and was told about what happened. He didn’t take his family dying too well, but was glad that he would not be alone. The next day that school was in session, Admiral Sturm put on his old Terran uniform, and walked his son into class. It was not easy adjusting to caring for a young Unkall child, but it was a change that Sturm was happy to make. He had known what it was like to be alone, and now he could keep Ruthall from knowing that pain.

The End

Let me know if you guys want a follow up series about Sturm and Ruthall on Unkall Prime, and how they live their lives together.

#humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #earth is space australia #humans are space australians

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writeyouin · 4 years ago

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Whirl X Reader – My Human - (COMMISSION)

Commission Request – IDW Whirl X Reader. A relationship that turns from Rocky to Love based off the Human Crewmate story. And some smut at the end please.

Word Count – 1884

A/N – Hey, @cyansadgirl I hope this is exactly what you’re looking for. Thank you so much for commissioning me. Happy holidays.

RATING – M

WARNINGS – NSFW/SMUT

You stood patiently outside Whirl’s hab-suite, playing a game on your communicator whilst ignoring the crashes and roars from inside. Ultra Magnus had just informed Whirl that you were to be his new roommate, and Whirl was not taking it well.

It had actually been Rung’s idea, and he had held a meeting with you, requesting that you be Whirl’s first room-mate aboard the Lost Light. You, as the only human, would benefit from the company, and Whirl in turn would hopefully learn to control his temper with someone so delicate living with him.

Nobody really knew if it was a good idea but you had agreed all the same and now all that was left to do was wait until Whirl had calmed down long enough for you to move in. Finally, Ultra Magnus stepped out, looking as grim as ever. He gave you a curt nod and left without another word, hoping that he wouldn’t have to come and correct Whirl’s behaviour again later.

Picking up your bag with the very few possessions you had, you headed into Whirl’s room, noticing that the area that you were supposed to inhabit had been thoroughly destroyed.

Whirl glared at you, “DON’T THINK YOU’RE STAYING HERE FLESH-BAG. ALL YOUR KIND ARE FRAGGERS.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” You sympathised. “I hope you’ll find that I’m not like that.”

You walked to your destroyed corner, fishing out a torn blanket and a pillow that had somehow survived.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET OUT OR I’LL THROW YOU OUT. YOU THINK YOU CAN STAND UP TO WHIRL? I’M THE TOUGHEST BOT ON THIS FLYING SCRAP-HEAP. I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Yes, I have no doubt to your strength,” You replied calmly, trying to hide your fear at his words; Rung wouldn’t have suggested this if he thought you would get hurt. “But I was thinking maybe you could give me a chance?”

Whirl narrowed his optic, glaring as you pulled the destroyed furniture towards the door, never once asking for help. He considered throwing you out, but Ultra Magnus had already given you the lock-code, so there would be little point unless he barricaded the door.

“Hah, good luck recharging,” Whirl spat spitefully. “I wrecked that stupid bed of yours.”

“I’ll manage fine with what I’ve got.”

Whirl wondered why you were even bothering. It was already clear that he was going to make your life hell but there you were, stubborn as ever. Well then, he would make a delightful little game of it; if he was going to torture you, he might as well enjoy it.

Whirl glowered on his side of the room. He shouldn’t have to be stuck with you, it was all Ring’s fault for even suggesting you move in with him, and those two dumb captains who were clearly too weak to say no to the eyebrowed freak.

No matter how much Whirl destroyed your stuff or how many insults he threw at you, nothing would get rid of you. You always reacted the same way, with a comment on how you hoped things would change and with that loathsome sympathetic smile that made his spark flutter; HE DIDN’T WANT YOUR SYMPATHY, DAMN IT!

Well, he could outlast you no problem, and he would make sure that he was victorious. Whirl looked for every opportunity to break you mentally, knowing that it would be far too easy to damage you physically; he told himself that there would be no challenge in that and that it wouldn’t do him any good anyway. How could he gloat if you were dead?

It was on a day when you were high up on a custom-made window seat that Whirl finally went too far. He’d had an extremely bad day with some arrogant fragger in “Visage’s” and worst of all, he’d had his aft handed to him in front of everybody. It was rare that Whirl was beat in combat, but he had been a little too overcharged to fight off that other mech, and then he had to return to his hab-suite with a bruised ego. Sure enough, you were there, gazing out at the stars and distant planets with a drink in hand; why did you always have to be there?

“Get the frag outta here,” Whirl slurred angrily.

“Whirl,” You gazed at him with sad eyes, “Did something happen? You look ups-”

You gasped as Whirl punched your window seat. He’d only meant to shake you up, or make you trip over. He’d never intended to hurt you, yet as you fell, you instinctively pushed out your hands to protect yourself and instead, your hand crushed your glass. You cried out in pain, glass embedded in your hand.

“Oh frag!” Whirl exclaimed, “WHAT DO I DO?”

He wanted to grab you and rush to med-bay, but he was afraid of hurting you further, so he called First-Aid to come to him instead. Whirl waited outside while you received stitches on your hand. He felt sick, and the common feeling of self-loathing began to consume him, as it usually did when he had regrets. Why was he such a piece of scrap? You hadn’t done anything to hurt him, not that you could. You were actually the nicest person he’d ever met. Why did he always have to destroy everything good in his life? It wasn’t your fault that you were roommates, it was Reng’s and yet there you were, paying the price. Whirl sat down on the floor, pulled his legs into his arms, and waited for the inevitable moment where you would move out and leave him alone once again.

Much to Whirl’s surprise, you didn’t hate him for the pain he’d caused you. In fact, your first concern was to ask him if he was okay. Whirl scoffed and told you not to be so stupid, but he lacked his usual bite. All he wanted to do was make things right, and since you had evidently decided to stay, he supposed he would get that chance.

His optic lingered on your bandaged hand as he made a gruff apology, unable to meet your eyes. Once you accepted his apology, Whirl felt a weight lift off his chassis. He knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet, but he would do everything he could to make it up to you.

From that day on, Whirl made a constant effort to talk to you, even in public, though he acted much tougher when there were others around, only dropping his guard when you were alone. He answered your questions about his life, even when the truth hurt, and slowly but surely, he found himself lowering his defences.

Most of the time, Whirl found that he had come to enjoy your company. He taught you all he knew about making clocks, even though you were completely awful at it. Whirl was glad that he didn’t have a mouth you could see him smiling with; it was just too damn funny when you got your tiny hands stuck in the springs.

It was one night while you were asleep, and Whirl wide awake that he looked over at you, his spark racing. True, you were no Cybertronian but maybe that was a good thing. After all, look at the damage that Cybertronians had knowingly caused, not only against each-other, but towards other innocent planets too. You would never hurt anyone. You were far too kind to. You were sweet, patient, sympathetic, sensitive, and Whirl was in love with you.

His claw rested despondently against his helm. The simple fact of the matter was that Whirl wasn’t good enough for you. He had already hurt you once. What was to stop him from doing so again? Was it selfish to keep you in his life whilst harbouring such feelings? He didn’t believe so; however self-destructive it would be to him, it wouldn’t affect you, so long as he never told you how he felt.

So, Whirl suffered in silence, his spark aching for what he couldn’t have, until the fateful day that you confessed your own blossoming feelings to him.

Whirl couldn’t believe his audials. He stared at you in a stunned silence, struggling to find his voice.

“You… what?” He choked out.

“I love you,” You said calmly, saddened by the knowledge that he probably didn’t feel the same; interspecies love was usually one-sided.

“You- No. Uh-uh. That’s scrap,” he shook his head disbelievingly.

“I know… You don’t have to feel the same back. I just thought it was better to tell you, in case things changed between us. You… You don’t have to keep me as your roommate if you don’t want to. I’ll understand if-”

“NO! YOU DON’T GET IT. I’M WHIRL. I WAS A WRECKER. I WAS NEVER MADE TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP. IF YOU’VE EVER THOUGHT OF ME THAT WAY, THEN YOU’RE EVEN MORE DYSFUNCTIONAL THAN I AM. WHAT THE FRAG IS WRONG WITH YOU THAT YOU WOULD EVEN CONSIDER A MONSTER LIKE ME?”

Whirl abruptly ended his rant at the sight of tears in your eyes; once again, without even trying to, he had hurt you.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” You apologised, leaving Whirl feeling worse than ever when he felt that it should have been him saying sorry.

“I LIKE YOU TOO,” Whirl exploded, lacking eloquence as usual. “I’m no good at this stuff but… we could try talking about this, I guess.”

You cried out Whirl’s name, panting heavily as he thrust into you, working off months of pent up sexual frustration.

For once, Whirl was eerily quiet, his processor overloaded by how tiny, soft, and different you were. He had planned to be gentle with you but seeing you naked beneath him with your cheeks flushed and your head lolling proved to be too much for him. Every time you called out his name, he was reminded just how lucky he was; he couldn’t remember ever being loved, and yet here you were proving that he was worth your affections.

His spike pushed between the wetness of your legs, repeatedly hitting your G-Spot, edging you ever closer to your climax. Your every nerve seemed to tingle, alight with passion. All too soon, you felt yourself clamping around Whirl’s spike.

“Oh God- God- It’s- AH~” You keened as Whirl continued through your climax, completely aroused by your orgasm.

After four more orgasms on your behalf, Whirl finally felt the onset of his own.

“(Y/N), THIS- IS FOR YOU!” He cried out through the static in his vocaliser.

His overload finally hit, filling you up with his transfluid that dripped down your soaked pussy.

Once the two of you had come down from your highs, Whirl swaddled you in a blanket, hooking his arm around you and clutching you into his side.

“This is nice,” You yawned, snuggling into his heat.

“Yeah,” Whirl agreed, having never felt something so intimate. “It really is.”

With that, you both fell into a peaceful silence, safe in each other’s embrace. As you drifted off to sleep, Whirl wondered if he was right to have hopes of a successful relationship. He knew he would talk to Cyclonus about it as soon as he could, but that was a problem for later.

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#whirl #whirl x reader #whirl x fem-reader #idw #tf #transformers #maccadam #the lost light #ll #ultra magnus #commission #reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #mtmte #more than meets the eye #my human

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sparklingpax · 4 years ago

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TFP Group Chat Stories - Autobots (#2)

The more popular request was for me to do another one of these, this time with the Autobots; here goes! I’ll be doing that rlly cool Decepticon idea sometime soon as well tho dw ;) Thanks y’all! ^^’’

So I’d like to note that after much talk, Optimus has at last dropped his habit of making an email out of every text, but still refuses to text casually 😹😹

Also also! The humans have their own groupchat (the kids) which I may or may not do a chat thing for as well ^w^’’ But this gc is for “all Autobots,” so the humans are a part of this one as well~

Except for Agent Fowler because he adamantly refused and was not swayed on that verdict.

Ah, so with that aside, hopefully I can at least make you smile :’D

Enjoy! <3

🔥✨🚑 *Tragic Hero Noises* 🚚✨🔥

Matrix-Bearer: Good afternoon, Autobots. I have been given lengthy instruction as to how this “group-chat” is supposed to function. You may thank the human children for our....suitable chat name. I have started this “group-chat” so we may better communicate as a team, coordinate plans, and altogether bond more deeply. I pray this marks the beginning of a new era in the midst of this bleak war, and that this shall bring a greater hope and chance for success against the Decepticons. Thank you, and please follow the rules posted on the fridge. Optimus out.

DestinysBoi:

_Wrench_Wrath_: SMOKESCREEN FOR THE LOVE OF PRIMUS

_Wrench_Wrath_: Thank you, Optimus, but a speech was not necessary. Just text normally, like we talked about ok?

MikoMikoNii:

DestinysBoi: @ MikoMikoNii you get me ;)

MikoMikoNii: BRO OFC ;))

DestinysBoi: *finger guns*

Its_Jack_: it’s bee two minutes and this chat is already cursed

Its_Jack: @ Whizkid @ Cee_HowULikeMe_Now help me out please

Bumbleowo: Hes studying for a test! Sorry if we mute you for now ^~^’’

_Wrench_Wrath_ : What material is he going over, Bumblebee?

DestinysBoi: oop ok then

MikoMikoNii: Later Bee!! Tell Raf I said good luck!!

Bumbleowo: Will do! :)

Its_Jack: oh shoot my mom wants me for chores bye!

MikoMikoNii: later chump~

Its_Jack: and you wonder Why I never like being part of your groupchats

MikoMikoNii: U_U

Cee_HowULikeMe_Now: wHO PINGED ME IM BUSY

Cee_HowULikeMe_Now: OH NO JACK MY CAPS LOCK IS STUCK I’M NOT MAD SORRY

_Wrench_Wrath_ : Can someone answer my question??

Cee_HowULikeMe_Now: I’M SORRY I PROMISE I’M NOT MAD

BladesandGrenades: lol

MikoMikoNii: OOF

DestinysBoi: Rip 😔👊🔥

Cee_HowULikeMe_Now: WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

DestinysBoi: only old people get their caps lock stuck 😂😂

MikoMikoNii: oo bulkhead should see this 🤣 @ Gentle-Giant get your metal hide over here!!!

Cee_HowULikeMe_Now: OK NOW IM A LITTLE MAD 🤬🔥

DestinysBoi: 😳😳😳

BladesandGrenades: our definitions of “a little” seem to be at odds

_Wrench_Wrath_: WHY ISNT ANYONE ANSWERING ME??!!1!

Cee_HowULikeMe_Now: Oh hey awesome I got my regular keyboard back! I’m still mad though 🙃

MikoMikoNii: think happy things arcee!! 😳

Cee_HowULikeMe_Now: No 🙃💙

Cee_HowULikeMe_Now: You have five minutes smokescreen 🙃🙃

DestinysBoi: wait why me??!

BladesandGrenades: Oh that reminds me; @ _Wrench_Wrath_ just an fyi, bulky broke his tablet again so hes gonna need a lil help

Shoulderpads: Wheeljack, all of you, it is not professional to use improper grammar and punctuation in any form of communication. Take that to your private chats please.

BladesandGrenades: lol

BladesandGrenades: how bout

BladesandGrenades: shove it up your tailpipe ;)

_Wrench_Wrath_: HE DID WHAT

_Wrench_Wrath_: PRIMUS GIVE ME PATIENCE I BEG OF YOU

Matrix-Bearer: Ratchet, I understand you are upset. Could you perhaps calm down? You are scaring certain residents of this base.

_Wrench_Wrath_: YOU KNOW WHAT. IM TOO OLD FOR THIS SCRAP.

< _Wrench_Wrath_ has left the chat >

BladesandGrenades: Well then

MikoMikoNii: OOF WOAH

DestinysBoi: u think hes coming back??

MikoMikoNii: Nah

BladesandGrenades: nope lol

BladesandGrenades: and ig @ Shoulderpads decided to actually shove it up his tailpipe ;) mission accomplished

DestinysBoi: ...ahah o///o’‘

DestinysBoi: Wouldnt be too sure of that one Jackie..

BladesandGrenades: wh

MikoMikoNii: 🙊😳

BladesandGrenades: Whats going on what happening

Matrix-Bearer: Good afternoon, all. This announcement pertains only to one of you. Wheeljack, please take a moment to head to Ultra Magnus’s quarters. He is requesting your assistance in the matter of....something involving his ship and something in its tailpipes. He informed me that the matter is urgent and requires immediate assistance. Thank you kindly. Signed, Optimus.

MikoMikoNii: guess

MikoMikoNii: guess you’ll be the one shoving it

BladesandGrenades: frag this mf

BladesandGrenades: k boss I’ll be there in a sec

DestinysBoi: lmao nice one Miko 😂😎🔥

Bumbleowo: Hey everyone! What’d we miss?

Whizkid: Hello, Optimus! Thank you for the kind greeting! I hope this chat can be utilized for good as well! :) Thanks for letting me join!!

Matrix-Bearer: Hell, Rafael!

Matrix-Bearer: I...I meant ‘hello.’

MikoMikoNii: HOLY SCRAP

Cee_HowULikeMe_Now: oh wow Optimus woah--

MikoMikoNii: I SJSDHD IM CRIGN

DestinysBoi: Guys dont be so mean :( hes just expressing the reality of what this chat actually is :))

WhizKid: I--

Bumbleowo: lololol oh wow 😅😂

MikoMikoNii:

Cee_HowULikeMe_Now: ok smokescreen I,,I actually have to agree with you on this one--

Cee_HowULikeMe_Now: Youre off the hook

DestinysBoi: thank you, my queen 😭😭

Cee_HowULikeMe_Now: 🙂

Matrix-Bearer: Apologies for the sheer informalities in this message, however I must express my deepest regrets for even starting this chat.

Matrix-Bearer: I’m beginning to think this was a mistake.

MikoMikoNii: YOU GOT THAT RIGHT 😎👊🔥

DestinysBoi:

Matrix-Bearer: I...have never before felt such fear for my life...

Shoulderpads: What in the good name of Primus is wrong with you people?? What is that? Why is it so....unnerving?

MikoMikoNii: 👌

///

And so that’s that! Sorry it took so long!! I was busy and it got stuck in my drafts for much longer than intended! But I hope there arent too many mistakes or anything, and I hope you could at least find it interesting, if not funny ^^’’

I enjoyed making this one too~

Lmk if you want me to do some more! Drop ideas! I’ll most likely be doing a Decepticon one next if I do another~

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elindae-writes · 4 years ago

Note

I feel like Knockout also got a bad deal in redemption arcs except his was kinda like... badly written? Like he had so much potential for an emotive storyline and they kind of just rushed it and were like “yeah lol he’s good now” and he deserved better than that.

He really did. I always got the sense that deep down he’s a very angry mech and that his sassy attitude was just his exterior, yknow? Both him and Breakdown were handled so lazily. I really do think that the writer’s decision to “redeem” him was a very last minute decision that they only made due to Knock Out’s popularity with the fans.

His redemption arc wasn’t even really a redemption. He literally said that he “just wants to be on the winning team.” A redemption arc is when you join the other side because you’ve recognized that they’re genuinely heroic, it’s not when you jump ship and flounder over to theirs when you realize that theirs has a smaller chance of sinking.

“ah yes, we could plan his redemption arc ahead of time and give him an emotional storyline--or we could have him bonk Starscream over the head with a stick. stick bonks are good.”

And then it’s immediately followed up by that awful shot of Starscream cowering under Knock Out and Bumblebee’s shadows while in the brig and it’s just??? I really really do not like Knock Out at all and this is mainly the reason why.

Not only that but Breakdown was a former Autobot. Knock Out joined the faction his deceased husband left behind. Sure, we don’t know why Breakdown left the ‘Bots, but I suspect it was for a personal and painful reason. “Oh, these people hurt my now dead husband, but I’ll go on and join them anyway!”

if I were Bumblebee I wouldn’t have accepted Knock Out, especially after he’d said that he only helped me just because he wanted to be on the winning side. Stick bonks do not make up for war crimes. Thanks for the help, now go into the brig with Starscream, I’m sure you’ll both get along like peas in a pod, byeeeee

I think they did him a disservice by having him become an Autobot. No, really, imagine if they’d implied that he ran off and escaped at the end of the show the same way they implied Shockwave had. (I know that in the final scene we see him in he’s being buried under Predacons, but I think he could’ve survived that)

KO’s implied survival and escape could have been so much fun and he could’ve been used as an interesting villain later on in RID. This arrogant and overly-sarcastic bot who fled in the moment of defeat and who has come back after surviving in the bones of a dead world, angry as frag and more sarcastic and brutal than ever.

To be honest I really wanted the Autobots to lose in Predacons Rising. Yes, I hate Megatron, but at that point I was just so fed up with the ‘Bots.

(I also find it very funny how in the final climactic battle of the show where Megatron dies Starscream just keeps beating the scrap out of Arcee. His leader is dying and he’s just like no, I have a two-wheeler to smack around, motorcycles first and warlord deaths later)

#transformers #transformers: prime #knock out #predacons rising #ask

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the-odd-job · 4 years ago

Text

Close Your Eyes to This Disaster Chapter 1: The Jolly Sound of Chiming Bells...

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Chose Not to Use, Rape/Non-Con Category: Other Fandom: Transformers G1 Relationships: Megatron/Sunstreaker, Megatron/Sideswipe, Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Characters: Sunstreaker, Megatron, Sideswipe Additional Tags: Dubcon, Sticky, Abusive Relationships, Mind Games, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Canon-Typical Violence Words: 7812

It isn't so much his past catching up with him as it is returning to him with a lover��s embrace, but with who that lover is, Sunstreaker isn’t sure that is any more preferable. Now would be the perfect time for a firm “no”.

The expectant thrum of the crowd was deafening even before the fight had begun. Bright lights beamed down on the rusty arena floor, and on Sunstreaker.

As well as his opponent, of course, but by the end of this, no one would remember his opponent. The only one on their minds would be Sunstreaker, that much he promised himself. Let his performance speak for itself and burn his name into their memories.

Not that he didn’t already have a reputation, and not that it would do him any good to get ahead of himself and cocky. This wasn’t for practice, this wasn’t for fun, and this wasn’t intended to be a mismatched fight. The stakes were real, and the loser?

The loser would die.

Sunstreaker gripped his sword just that bit tighter when that thought only managed to excite him further, staring down the mech he was pitted against this time, and having the same done to him. They sized each other up with bloody intent, until…

Until the ring of a bell was transmitted into their comms, passing the noise of the spectators, and the fight began by the grace of that signal.

Focus, pain, and focus through pain. It looked like they were as evenly matched as they were meant to be, that neither could quite get ahead. The exhilaration of being one mistake away from losing his life to a worthy foe pulsed in his lines as they clashed. Metal screeched as it was torn through, sparks flew into the air, broken wiring crackled, energon spilled. It was everything it should be: a violent show for an audience that was thirsty for bloodshed and death, as well as a true challenge for him with his very life on the line. He could scarcely hear his own thoughts over the cheer, holler, and stomping of the crowds, only getting progressively louder with every brutally delivered injury.

But in the end, it was Sunstreaker, bleeding and broken but alive, that stood over the greying husk of his opponent. His vents ran ragged, fans stuttered from how many of them had been damaged, he hurt–

But he was on his pedes and his spark still rotated in its casing.

He thrust his sword into the air to the loud and enthusiastic approval of those that had witnessed his victory, letting the feeling of it sink into him–

Before he turned and left the Pit floor to give someone else the chance to test their mettle.

Sideswipe peeled himself from the wall he had been leaning against when Sunstreaker walked through the gate that opened to let him into the arena’s underbelly, and together they would have set down the dim, dirty, winding corridors towards the medical bay, had there not been an… Obstruction in their way. Sunstreaker’s helm tilted back, far back as he met the piercing red gaze of one champion.

Megatronus. Everyone had surely heard of him, seen him fight, but this?

“A fine victory,” the silvery mech commended him with an incline of his helm. Sunstreaker’s lips drew into a smirk, the haughty kind he knew many hated, the kind that made them think he was nothing but full of himself—arrogant, easy to play and take down.

“Were you expecting something less, champion?” he asked, sidestepping to get past the far larger mech. Megatronus merely mirrored his motion, though, still standing in his way.

Sunstreaker’s spark shivered with just the barest hint of irritation as he cocked an optical ridge at the other that, apparently, wasn’t intent on letting him leave just yet. “Was there something you wanted?” he asked mildly.

And like the most awful flirt in the world, Megatronus responded with, “You,” his gaze intense on Sunstreaker. Had to give it to him, he got straight to the point if nothing else, and admittedly that single word brought back some of the excitement of the fight he’d just finished.

Yet Sunstreaker merely snorted and again stepped to the side to move past the obstacle the mech had made himself. “Get in line.”

But again Megatronus moved to block his way. When Sunstreaker frowned, it was no show. Next to the quickening rotation of his spark, there was true annoyance—but indeed, also a flutter of something else. This was Megatronus, a mech of exceeding name and fame, best of the best, powerful to the last.

And he was talking to Sunstreaker. Could he be blamed for finding it a bit… Exciting?

“Go out with me,” Megatronus near purred at him. Sunstreaker blinked in genuine confusion, because certainly this level of courtship shouldn’t have needed to precede the fragging he expected Megatronus was after.

But once he recovered from his momentary surprise… “No,” came Sunstreaker’s response. When Megatronus still wouldn’t allow him to leave, Sunstreaker planted his pedes instead, crossed his arms across his chassis, and glared.

Megatronus beat him to any words. “You will.”

“Really, now?”

“Tomorrow, eighteenth cycle. Beat’s bar. Don’t be late.”

With one last look that roved from Sunstreaker’s helm to his pedes with something akin to approval, Megatronus turned around and simply left. Sunstreaker frowned after him as Sideswipe stepped up to take his place beside him again.

Turned out the champion was a presumptuous asshole. Fancy that.

“Repairs,” Sideswipe noted their need. Sunstreaker shook himself off and together they continued to their intended destination.

------------------------------------

And yet, he showed up exactly on the eighteenth cycle of the next day, at Beat’s bar. It was loud, dim, and crowded as always, the weight of the hot, stenching air hitting him like a physical force when he stepped through the door. A glance around the establishment, and… There he was. Megatronus, sitting alone at a table, browsing a datapad. Waiting, by all appearances.

Why was he doing this, again? Agreeing to getting ordered around? But he couldn’t deny he was intrigued. A date wasn’t in the usual script. He only wanted to find out what this was about. He could leave any time—tell Megatronus where he could shove it and be done with it.

But for now, his curiosity plagued him and Sunstreaker wove his way through the miners and gladiators to the table Megatronus had claimed, sliding into the seat opposite to him. The silver mech glanced up as he did so, and didn’t look the least bit surprised to see him.

Bastard.

“Punctual,” Megatronus commented, pushing one cube towards him. There was a second one he seemed intent on keeping for himself.

Sunstreaker ignored the cube he was offered, and instead grabbed the other one. The move earned him a raised optical ridge and Sunstreaker couldn’t tell if he imagined the slightest hint of annoyance in the champion’s field, but nothing else came out of it.

“Well, I’m here,” Sunstreaker said after taking his first sip of the sludge that passed as high grade here in the lower decks of Kaon. It was gritty, the taste was as horrid as usual, and it promised to give you one hell of a hangover, but he didn’t know a mech who wouldn’t have been fond of the slag. He didn’t know if Megatronus was any exception, but at the very least the other cube was full of the same stuff and the larger mech went to drink it without hesitation, as he should have. Time to make some demands, then. “Now what the slag do you want?”

“To get to know you, simply,” Megatronus responded, as direct as before.

Sunstreaker raised one artfully crafted optical ridge. “Get to know me? What did I do to deserve a slagging honor like this?”

“Your reputation precedes you. Exquisitely beautiful, but temperamental and dangerous—a rising gladiator no one can claim to be friends with… How does one survive with no allies? Can you fault me for my curiosity?”

“I have a twin. What do I need friends for?”

“Ah, yes, Sideswipe. Quite different from you in his conduct, is he not?”

“I see you’ve done your research.” Sunstreaker leaned back in his seat, cube in hand. Exquisitely beautiful, he said? Well, Sunstreaker wasn’t going to complain about that description. Getting called dangerous by the likes of Megatronus was admittedly gratifying as well, and temperamental… Well, he knew he was. “Should I count you as another one of my stalkers?”

“I know nothing that isn’t out in public,” Megatronus waved his slight accusation away. “And I would rather confirm the truth of matters for myself.”

“Is this just a friendly date, then?”

“Not quite. Should the things I have heard be true, I am… Interested.”

Sunstreaker smirked at the world of suggestion behind those words, setting his cube back onto the table and leaning forward to prop his elbow on the surface, and his chin on his servo. He had the interest of a champion, now? And not just any champion, but Megatronus himself? He had to consider himself flattered. “What if I say the rumors don’t do me any damn justice?”

“Then I would call you even more arrogant than they say you are.”

The twin laughed, tracing the edge of his cube with the tip of his claw. “You’ll have to try harder than that if you want to insult me.”

“Let us talk, then, so that I may learn to insult you properly.”

“Deal.”

--------------------------------------

The twins were already skilled at the art of fighting and learned more every day, and in large part they had trainers to thank for that. They directed sparring with a heavy hand and gave instruction to coach everyone into the best showmech they could become. Sparring without their supervision was fruitful too, of course, not to mention necessary to ingrain it all into their spines until the violence was etched into their very being, so instinctual they didn’t need to question what they could and couldn’t bend their frames to.

Aside from the trainers’ teachings, there was also much to learn from others, when you squared off against them even just with practice in mind. That was all the more true when your opponent was someone more skilled than you were, and when it was Megatronus that offered to train with him? Pit, there was no way Sunstreaker was going to turn that down. Not only for the learning opportunity it was, but also for the status boost sparring with a champion provided.

And not just any champion. The champion, the mech that was talking about a revolution, taking a stand against inequality and the lower castes’ suffering, and fearlessly earning himself as many enemies as he was gaining supporters.

That mech was now sparring with Sunstreaker, and oh boy, they were not matched. The twins were good, they wouldn’t have gotten to the point they had if they weren’t, but they simply were not on the level Megatronus was.

Yet, where Megatronus could’ve simply beaten him over and over again, he instead toned down his own ability and gave Sunstreaker an honest chance to learn. He gave tips, instruction, pointed out when something Sunstreaker did could be improved upon, when he made a mistake—how to correct the mistake. It was unexpected, but far from unwelcome, and Sunstreaker ignored the overlookers they were gaining on the edges of the training ring to instead focus on the spar and only the spar. Sideswipe was among the audience, his optics sharp as he added that frame’s perspective into the mix, giving Sunstreaker a second view of what he was doing. A few times he was quite sure they even managed to catch Megatronus off guard by predicting a move Sunstreaker shouldn’t have seen coming, but that Sideswipe could catch.

But Sunstreaker couldn’t forever ignore his appreciation of Megatronus’ raw skill. The fluidity and speed of his motions even when he held back, the contained strength in everything he did, every shift of heavy plate on the frame that moved so much more smoothly than it had any right to with its sheer size in mind. As both of their systems heated from the exertion, Sunstreaker was sure his optics weren’t the only ones that progressively brightened until there was another reason for why their fans were running high.

That was all confirmed when Megatronus knocked him off his pedes like he had quite a few times already and successfully pinned him before Sunstreaker managed to move out of the way or get himself in a better position, but then, instead of releasing him so they could continue…

He brought a servo up and traced the side of Sunstreaker’s face.

Sunstreaker ignored the way his vents wanted to stutter at the deceptively gentle contact at such odds with what they were doing only seconds ago, and instead raised his optical ridges at the larger mech. “Find me as irresistible as everyone else does, huh?”

Megatronus growled, but there was an undercurrent of amusement to the sound. “Are you opposed?”

Was he? “Can’t say I am.”

“Then let’s take this elsewhere, shall we?”

Sunstreaker arched up, freeing one of his servos only because Megatronus allowed him to and dragging his claws along the larger mech’s seams. “Shy?”

There was another deep growl before Megatronus’ lips descended on his. Sunstreaker laughed into the rough, rough kiss that followed—one that made his lines sing.

-----------------------------------------

At first Megatronus’ interest was directed at Sunstreaker and Sunstreaker only, but the more time the veteran gladiator spent in his presence, the more time he also spent in Sideswipe’s presence. As it happened, the twins were never far from each other, and never apart for long. They were drawn to each other as if caught in each other’s gravity wells, incapable of escaping, not to mention unwilling of doing so. They were split-spark. They were one with so much meaning behind that one word.

Of course, a whole-spark like Megatronus wasn’t going to understand that, at least not instantaneously, and the misguided efforts to get some alone time with Sunstreaker grew tiresome very fast.

“Would you like to come back to my room?” was another time Megatronus spoke only to Sunstreaker, giving a look in Sideswipe’s direction that made it clear he wasn’t included in the invitation. Both of the twins gave him matching frowns, and this time Sunstreaker couldn’t not address the matter.

“We’re twins. Split-spark twins,” he stated flatly, “and every time you’re only inviting one frame?”

Megatronus frowned too, clearly and unsurprisingly not really understanding the point.

Or so they thought. “You’re a package deal?” And there Megatronus was, catching onto at least some of it with minimal prompting. It was a pleasant deviation from what they’d expected.

He probably didn’t get it all the way, but whatever. This was a start. “Trust me, threesomes with both of my frames are the best,” Sideswipe leered, then snickered.

“Both of your frames?” Megatronus repeated, but instead of incredulous, he mostly seemed… Fascinated.

The twins shrugged. “One spark. You don’t get two persons out of that.”

Megatronus stayed quiet for a good moment, glancing between them as if he was trying to pick their inner workings apart with his gaze alone. The twins waited him out, curious themselves over where Megatronus’ thoughts were going with this. Usually they were simply dismissed if they tried to explain themselves, others incapable of seeing over the fact they had two frames—or even when some effort was made to understand their nature, it fell flat and the end result was no more enlightened than what was started with.

They didn’t expect much better success from Megatronus, but then it wasn’t as if they needed to be understood for some casual fragging to be perfectly enjoyable. It would just be mighty nice if they weren’t constantly separated because of it.

“There is some difference between your halves,” Megatronus eventually mused. “You don’t act identical to each other. Why is that?”

Most oddly, it didn’t sound like arguing them on how their own goddamn life worked, more just stating an observation—and following it with a presumably genuine question. Did Megatronus actually want to get them? He’d probably fail miserably in that attempt, but what harm was there in humoring him, hm?

“The frames portray different aspects of my spark,” Sideswipe answered. “Think of it like… A split personality or something.”

Sunstreaker added, “The frames have to maintain separate awareness or they wouldn’t be able to function separately, but the spark-halves are tied.”

Again Megatronus stayed quiet for a while, and again when he spoke up it was with observations. “Sparks are emotion and baseline thought,” he stated the basic truth of their race’s life force, then made a good guess, “you share those?”

The brothers nodded their confirmation.

“I never see you argue,” Megatronus went on to note. “Can you argue or disagree?”

Definitely unusually astute and for the life of him Sunstreaker couldn’t say where Megatronus was pulling these not incorrect assumptions from, when he was a whole-spark like almost every damn mech out there, not even bonded as far as they knew, and simply shouldn’t have had any of the basis for understanding them. Not if any of their past experiences were to go by.

Here he was anyway, though. “Can you argue or disagree with yourself?” Sunstreaker asked in return.

Megatronus gave him a shrewd look. “Only in a sense. Not in the way I can argue with another.”

“That’s me,” Sideswipe confirmed. “Not even the frames have different opinions, and my spark doesn’t have two perspectives. The spark is united.”

“You are a strange creature,” Megatronus said after another moment of thoughtful pause. “I doubt I can ever fully understand your experience, but allow me to try.”

They blinked at him, their turn for utter confusion. When had someone even verbally dedicated themselves to understanding them? Never, that’s when.

The confusion was followed by suspicion. “Why do you care?”

“I seek to understand this world,” Megatronus answered. “All parts of it that I can. I will never grow as a person without knowledge.”

“I’m not exactly important in the grand scheme of things,” Sideswipe pointed out. “You won’t gain much by understanding me.”

“You never know. It will provide me with an additional perspective. That, and will I not earn your approval with my genuine interest?”

Sunstreaker huffed. “So that’s your angle? Worm into my good graces?”

“Am I wrong to want that?” Megatronus asked, reaching to trace Sunstreaker’s jawline—but his optics were on Sideswipe, calculating, as if he was thinking about how to do the same to him.

“It’s almost like you want more than a casual fragbuddy.”

“I am curious about you and find you attractive, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Megatronus smirked.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics, but Sideswipe clicked for attention, mischievous and lecherous with the suggestion he made, “How about that threesome, though?”

------------------------------------

It was a rare treat to leave the lower decks, the areas beneath Cybertron’s surface where all the gutter trash inevitably fell. However, Megatronus took them up after one of his victories which apparently gave him enough credits to splurge just a little. Considering Megatronus had already bought his own freedom despite all odds, he could actually spend the credits he now earned on himself—or on another mech of his choosing, if he was so inclined. The twins barely saw a penny of their winnings, entirely at the whim of their owner.

He should probably count himself lucky Megatronus was choosing to entertain them with his newly found funds. For sure Sunstreaker wasn’t opposed to the change in scenery as they took a transport to wherever exactly Megatronus was taking them—he refused to tell the specifics. The twins could have simply driven, or at very least they assumed they could have, depending on where they were going, but Megatronus’ alt-mode was a little less road suitable. So, transport it was.

It turned out Megatronus led them to a tower, one that the twins couldn’t see to be special in any way, but inside they went all the same. The lights here were far brighter than the twins had come to expect after however long they’d spent in Cybertron’s underbelly, speaking of the fact they weren’t in low class areas anymore. A large portion of the mecha around here were comfortably middle caste.

They had polished themselves well and good, though, so they didn’t particularly stand out and didn’t get that many looks as they walked past the stores and service fronts. Upward they traveled with the help of an elevator, until they were at the highest level of the public areas. From there Megatronus led them back outside, onto a balcony that circled the tower at this level.

They weren’t the only ones around, but that wasn’t what the twins focused on. It was the view that stole their attention. Even through the smog the city was covered in, they could make out the outlines of Kaon’s towers all around them and the lights in their countless windows, breaking through the constant pollution. Above them dirty clouds swelled and rolled, their sickly oranges, yellows, and greens reflecting the city’s lights. Fliers zipped by this high up, the sounds of traffic rising from below instead of coming from around and above.

“Slag,” Sideswipe breathed as he spun in a slow circle to take in it all. Their awe was probably reflected all over their faces and their fields, but they didn’t even care. Megatronus chuckled at them as Sideswipe rushed to the railing next, Sunstreaker on his heels, and together they leaned on it to drink in everything they saw. The smells were different up here, too. There wasn’t the same stench of oil and grime, nevermind that of spilled energon no one bothered to clean, that they were used to in the lower decks and the Pits.

Here there was only the smog.

And Sunstreaker knew exactly what he wanted to do with this. He had another look around to confirm there were benches nearby, then went to plop himself down on one and pulled out his drawing tablet. This he could capture, and would do so with eagerness.

Sideswipe didn’t particularly give a damn, but Megatronus came over to him, curious. “You draw?”

“Paint, technically, but yes.”

“Show me.”

Sunstreaker gave him a nasty glare for what was functionally an order, but he wanted to do this. Megatronus’ desires played no role in that, but he might as well watch if he wanted to.

So, the golden twin set to work to capture just what he was seeing in the city around them.

--------------------------------------

Well… He won, but that was about the only thing that could be said about that. Walking out of the arena on your own two pedes was a must, but that was all he had managed before collapsing to his injuries. Sideswipe was the one who had moved to help him first, but Megatronus had brushed his twin aside and picked him up himself.

And here he was in the medical bay of the arena, now, with Megatronus still next to him, looking vaguely concerned. Sunstreaker had to wonder if his injuries really had been that severe, but Sideswipe confirmed that he’d nearly offlined for good a couple of times during the repairs.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics at the questioning look Megatronus gave him. “I’m tougher than I look,” he rasped, frowned at the quality of his voice, then recalled his throat had gotten quite effectively crushed. His vocalizer not working quite like it was supposed to wasn’t much of a surprise, that in mind.

“You won,” Megatronus said mildly, and Sunstreaker nodded.

“I did. Happy?”

“Quite, considering the alternative.”

Sunstreaker snorted this time, but when his gaze shifted back towards the ceiling, he caught another frowning figure a few steps away on his other side.

None other than their owner. Sunstreaker glared and would have loved to deliver some waspish words, but the slave coding silenced him. The mech’s presence wasn’t welcome, though. They far preferred when he took the hands off approach and left them to their own devices as long as they performed well enough.

“That was pathetic, Sunstreaker. Yes, yes, you won, congratulations, but you were not on your usual level,” the mech growled at him. Sunstreaker would have rolled his optics, were he capable of such disrespect. An evil optic was all he could give, until, “Don’t give me that look, Sunstreaker.”

At once his expression smoothed itself out, but only for there to be a thunderous growl that certainly didn’t come from him. Sunstreaker glanced back to Megatronus to see him rising from the seat he had been occupying, and although he was barely inches taller than their owner, he managed to loom with… Titillating effectiveness. Sunstreaker swallowed as he watched the glare Megatronus directed at their owner, who shrank back despite himself. “He won. You got your payment. Now I suggest you leave.”

The grinding of their owner’s denta was audible, but the mech nodded briskly before stalking out of the room with just a hissed, “We will have words later,” directed at the brothers.

Megatronus growled after him, but sat back down. Sunstreaker reached for his face, brushing the claw of his thumb across the larger mech’s lips with a wry smile. “You know I’ll be the one who’ll get in trouble for that.”

“And if you do, you come to me and I will set things straight,” Megatronus snarled in answer, catching his servo in his far, far larger one and giving it a squeeze. Sunstreaker huffed a laugh and Sideswipe padded over to drape himself along Megatronus’ shoulders.

“Thought’s appreciated,” the red twin said with a grin, planting a kiss on the side of Megatronus’ helm. Their lover rumbled almost softly.

--------------------------------

Megatronus had gotten in the habit of treating Sideswipe quite gently, and they weren’t opposed to that. From anyone else it may have been unwelcome, too touchy-feely coming from just any random mech, even a friend, but they were sort of beyond that point with Megatronus—much to everyone’s mutual pleasure. It was never more apparent than now, with Sideswipe moaning softly below Megatronus, slow, deep thrusts driving the larger mech into his brother’s frame over and over again. It was a slow climb towards an overload, one Sideswipe was rather enjoying with a blissed out expression, and from his look, so was Megatronus.

Sunstreaker barely managed to keep his face neutral where he sat in a chair to the side, drawing that very scene—his twin nearly hidden under their lover’s sheer bulk as they interfaced, slow and steady. There was so much strength contained in Megatronus’ frame, yet in the moment he chose to use barely any of it, his hips just cautious enough in their motion and his arms braced on either side of Sideswipe, keeping him off of him. Sideswipe could have wiggled free any moment, but why would he have? He stayed right where Megatronus could herd his wits to the four winds with nothing but the motion of his hips.

It was a moment worth capturing.

--------------------------------

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Megatronus’ growl was a vicious thing and Sunstreaker had to glance back just to confirm it was directed at him. Not that there was anyone else present aside from him and Sideswipe, but frankly, Sunstreaker had no idea what they would have done to earn a tone like that.

“Notice what?” Sunstreaker asked with a frown, going back to viewing his reflection from the dim mirror in their room. It was a near useless thing, but combined with Sideswipe’s optics it still provided him with a good enough overview of his frame, and more importantly, his finish. He was shining now, though that never lasted long in the environment they were in. All the work that went into maintaining his dear looks…

“Don’t feign ignorance,” Megatronus continued in that same voice that promised nothing good, drawing Sunstreaker’s attention from the mirror properly. Before he could again ask for some fragging clarification, Megatronus had already closed the distance between them, looming over him and spitting his accusation. “Do you make a habit of encouraging others’ advances where I can’t see it?”

Oh, for frag’s sake… Sunstreaker turned around fully, facing the larger mech and landing his servos on his hips. “Listen here, you ass,” he growled, “I have no pitting clue what you’re talking about. I haven’t ‘faced anyone else since we went exclusive, as we slagging well agreed.”

Megatronus forced him back a step until he was nearly pinned against the mirror, the larger gladiator’s servo slamming into the wall next to it and him. Sunstreaker’s optics narrowed, but Megatronus showed no signs of calming the frag down. “So you only lead others on?” Megatronus hissed at him. “Let them grope you a little, but it’s alright because you don’t full on interface with them, hmm?”

Sunstreaker threw his arms up in frustration. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m hot as fresh slag, and some take that as too big of an invitation,” he snarled right back at their clearly a little too jealous lover. “I make a habit of punching them somewhere painful for it, but I can’t always prevent it ahead of time. That’s not satisfactory? The pit more do you want?”

Megatronus leaned down and Sunstreaker met his burning gaze without waver all through the larger mech’s growled response, “You belong to me, and I don’t like others touching what is mine.”

At that point Sunstreaker’s lips drew into a sneer and he copied Megatronus’ move and leaned in. “If you haven’t noticed, we already have an owner, and it’s not you,” he pointed out, voice cold. Oh how he would have preferred to not belong to anyone—not even Megatronus. Not in that way. What he wouldn’t give to be his own master and not have contracts or possessive lovers telling him otherwise.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting for a reminder like that, but he wasn’t sure it was Megatronus closing the rest of the distance between them and crashing their lips together. Sunstreaker grimaced when the larger mech’s denta came into play immediately, painfully grazing his dermal plating. It distracted him enough that he wasn’t fast enough to dodge when Megatronus’ servos closed around the arms Sunstreaker brought up to push the massive bastard away. From there he was no match to Megatronus’ strength and size and could do little when he was slammed against the wall—next to the mirror instead of against it, luckily—and lifted until his pedes didn’t meet the ground, but where he would’ve been in the perfect position to wrap his legs around Megatronus’ middle.

Was that where this was going? “Let the slag go of me,” Sunstreaker growled, but the parting of his lips only had Megatronus’ slagging glossa shove in.

He bit down on it without fanfare, earning himself a roar from Megatronus’ engine. The grip on him shifted until Megatronus could securely hold him up with one arm only, the other slipping between his thighs and… This was definitely going there. The roar of Sunstreaker’s engine fought to match Megatronus’, even if it never could.

Megatronus pulled back from his mouth enough to growl a simple, “Open.”

“Go frag yourself,” Sunstreaker hissed at him, fury surging all the higher when Megatronus’ claws pressed against the seams of his valve cover with painful force.

The only response he got was another growl and those claws sank into the seams. Sunstreaker’s helm fell back against the wall with a pained grunt, but when Megatronus twisted with the apparent intent of ripping the whole damn panel off, Sunstreaker hurriedly transformed it aside before it was bent so far out of shape it couldn’t have done that anymore.

There was no preparation. No preparation whatsoever, just Megatronus releasing his spike and thrusting in with one uncaring stroke. Sunstreaker squirmed between him and the wall, hissing at the tearing pain at his insides when his lover’s always a little too big spike scraped against barely damp walls. His claws dug into silver plating, as much as he knew that wouldn’t do him any good, not with the thickness of Megatronus’ armor. The only good reason for it was to ground himself on something when Megatronus set to frag him, hard. It tore at his inner sensors until there was barely even the slightest hint of pleasure left. His ventilations became ragged from anything but arousal.

Megatronus gave no quarter before he overloaded after too long, torturous moments, Sunstreaker grimacing at the feel of hot transfluid against his abraded valve walls. Only once the charge had fully dissipated from his damned lover’s frame did Megatronus pull away, anger still in his optics. Sunstreaker’s valve was blessedly abandoned, but when Megatronus simply dropped him to the floor, the lancing pain from his core made sure Sunstreaker’s legs wouldn’t carry him and he fell to his knees.

That did nothing to help with his own anger, and Sunstreaker would have bet his optics were even more fierce than Megatronus’ when he lifted his gaze to the mech looming over him.

“Out,” Sunstreaker growled, stretching out one arm to point a digit at the goddamn door. “Get the frag out of my room.”

Surprisingly, Megatronus obeyed—without an apology, without a single backwards glance. He left.

-----------------------------

It always felt like an invasion when their owner came to the room of the Pits they called their own. It was their room, and it didn’t matter slag that technically the fragging mech had a right to it because he owned the twins and everything they could possibly claim to belong to them. Their room included.

But here he was now, with the brothers sitting on their berth and their visitor in the one chair in the room.

“Megatronus,” the mech spoke, watching for their reaction.

They gave none, so he continued, “He’s becoming a distraction to you. You need to focus on your careers, not on pointless dalliances. It’s your lives at stake.”

Only because you keep signing me into deathmatches.

But they could hardly accuse their dear owner of that much. Even the truth of, “He gives us training,” was a hard thing to force past the slave coding, but Sunstreaker did so anyway.

Their owner frowned. “Enough to balance out the amount of time you spend with him? No. Your relationship with him needs to end.”

Sunstreaker closed his optics as the slave coding registered that and worked to put it in effect. It was a little too complex of an order for it to force it upon them entirely. They could work around it with some effort, if they wanted to.

He wasn’t sure if their owner knew as much, but there were always other orders he could pile on top to really make it impossible for them to stay in a “relationship” with Megatronus.

“Do you understand me?” the mech demanded still.

“I understand,” Sunstreaker said, Sideswipe repeating the same words next to him. His brother watched their owner nod in satisfaction and Sunstreaker opened his optics in time to watch him leave.

“Don’t forget,” was all they were told in parting before they had their room for themselves again.

After silence and stillness had stretched on for a while, Sideswipe stated, “Megatronus can do something about that. If I want him to.”

“I want him to,” Sunstreaker confirmed, setting his jaw. Their damn owner wouldn’t choose who they had relations with, even if they needed to fix the matter in a roundabout fashion.

Their decision made, Sideswipe pulled up Megatronus’ commlink without wasting any more time and pinged for his attention. The connection was opened almost immediately.

“Can you come by tonight?” was all Sideswipe asked. There was a brief pause on Megatronus’ end before he confirmed he could do that–

And that night he did indeed come over, the twins opening the door for him. Their lover was already wearing a frown, likely having caught onto something being off. He was many things, but dumb wasn’t one of them.

“What’s the matter?” he asked almost as soon as the door had closed after him.

Sunstreaker gushed air from his vents. “Our owner wants us to end our relationship with you,” was all he needed to say for Megatronus to understand everything he needed to. His face darkened like a storm cloud, a growl rising from his engine.

“I will have… Words with him.”

As they had hoped. The brothers nodded and Megatronus moved further into the room until he could circle behind Sideswipe, his servos landing on the red twin’s shoulders and running along his plating. “How firm is the order, currently?”

“Not very. Yet,” Sideswipe murmured, tilting his helm back to look up at Megatron. “But he can make it more specific.

Megatronus’ mouth set into a thin line and he nodded, his touch on Sideswipe turning just that bit more possessive—suggestive. They weren’t opposed to it and Megatronus went on to prove to no one in particular that they wouldn’t be parted quite so easily.

The next day, their owner came by to rescind his order, a little dinged and shaky.

-----------------------------

“I could buy your contracts.”

Sunstreaker looked up from his painting. Megatronus was already looking at him and that… Didn’t sound like a joke. In fact, it sounded like Megatronus was very serious with that thought, as if he’d already considered it for a while.

The twins had nothing more to offer him than matching frowns, though. “I’m sure you could,” Sunstreaker agreed on that much, only to continue, “but you won’t.”

“Why would I not? Would you not be glad to be rid of your owner?”

Their frowns deepened. “Only to have you as our owner instead? We’d be in the exact same spot. Nothing would change. So no, thank you.”

“Nothing would change?” Megatronus growled. “Having someone who cares about you holding your legal contracts would change nothing?”

“The contracts would still exist,” Sunstreaker snarled right back. “Even if you didn’t actually use them, I’d slagging well owe you. My entire fragging life, in fact. I will not be indebted to you like that.”

It looked like their lover was quickly growing frustrated, as if he’d assumed it was a given that they would agree with… What? Joyful jumps? Grateful kisses? Thankful frags?

Well, slag that.

“You’re not thinking with reason,” Megatronus let him know, earning himself Sunstreaker’s full glare, not that it discouraged him any. “If you set aside your emotions for a moment, you would see that is the perfect arrangement.”

“Perfect for you, maybe!” Sunstreaker set his drawing tablet aside before he harmed it in his rising temper, jabbing a digit in Megatronus’ chest. “You’d fragging own me, and legally you could do whatever the frag you wanted with me.”

“Do you not trust my intentions?”

“Honestly? Not slagging enough.”

That was probably over the line a bit. Megatronus growled with his entire frame, but this wasn’t the right moment to back the frag down. Instead Sunstreaker drove the stake deeper, pressing the tip of his claw against Megatronus’ chestplates. “Let me make myself very clear: you buy my contracts and I will find a way beat it the slag out of this whole damn city and leave you behind. Mark my slagging words.”

Megatronus glared at him, an expression Sunstreaker fully matched. It wouldn’t be an easy trick to pull off, but at this point he trusted Megatronus knew them to be crafty enough that they might just succeed in it no matter the cost—and even if they didn’t, it would leave their relationship in permanent ruins, something he doubted their lover actually wanted or would be willing to risk.

That was the hope, anyway.

Megatronus didn’t answer him, at least not verbally, though the rough servo that wrapped around the back of Sunstreaker’s helm and pulled him into an equally rough kiss was probably answer enough. He wasn’t let off that easy, either, because Megatronus pulled him up and broke their kiss only to yank him around and press Sunstreaker’s chest against the nearest wall. Hard. “You are unreasonably stubborn,” was hissed into his audial and his legs were kicked apart to make room for Megatronus’ servo between them. “I try to help you, and you turn it down without any true consideration.” Sunstreaker retracted his valve cover before he was relieved of it entirely, the one and only concession he made before he was lifted for Megatronus to line up their arrays. The fact Sunstreaker had next to no lubrication was likely right according to Megatronus’ current desires—the entry chafed in the worst ways and he couldn’t entirely silence his groan.

“Do you not see my love for you?” Megatronus grunted on his next thrust in. Sunstreaker growled, but his lover continued, “Everything I would do for you? Instead you lay down misguided ultimatums and think you know best.”

“It’s my life,” Sunstreaker hissed, twisting in Megatronus’ hold as the burn in his valve worsened with every harsh thrust. “Like it or not, I should get to choose how it goes.”

“I should let you make decisions to your own detriment?” Megatronus growled, the next snap of his hips particularly punishing.

Sunstreaker’s claws dug into the wall, but he held his ground. “Yes. They’re my mistakes to make and my consequences to live with.”

“Don’t you see I only want to protect you?”

“Well, don’t. It’s—hngh—my right to live and make mistakes. You won’t take that away from me.”

“Stubborn you are, my dear,” Megatronus snarled at him. Sunstreaker’s back arched from fresh hell when his love angled his thrusts differently, and sped his pace up.

--------------------------

“You scheduled goddamn frame edits for us?”

Megatronus barely bothered to glance up from whatever he was writing and the blatant dismissal only made Sunstreaker angrier. “There are improvements that can be made to your frames,” was all the answer he got before Megatronus went right back to whatever he was working on.

Sunstreaker stalked up to his desk and slammed his servo down over his lover’s datapad hard enough that the screen splintered. “I never agreed to this. Some of them are external edits. You fragging bastard, I already like how I look.”

The look Megatronus gave him was chilly to say the least, but true to form, Sunstreaker wasn’t cowed one bit. “As I said, improvements can be made,” Megatronus simply said.

“And who defines what’s an improvement?” Sunstreaker grit out, shoving at Megatronus’ shoulder. “You? They’re my fragging frames.”

“Did you even have a look at the order?” Megatronus asked from him, aggravated. Good for him, Sunstreaker was pretty damn aggravated himself. That made two of them.

“I did, but that’s entirely beside the point.”

“Is it? Did you not like them?”

“I don’t like that you’re trying to dictate what the pit I look like!” Sunstreaker straightened to his full height and crossed his arms across his chassis, but even so he didn’t exactly manage to be taller than Megatronus. Didn’t matter. “My life, my frames, my looks. I choose them, and you’re not fragging going to play my damn owner, trying to tell me what I am or am not to look like.”

“Did you not like them?” Megatronus demanded more firmly, his glare as intense as Sunstreaker’s. Their staring contest was true, neither backing down.

“That’s beside the point. You didn’t have permission.”

Before Megatronus could answer to that, there was a ping at his door. Sunstreaker glanced over his shoulder to see it slide aside to reveal… Soundwave. That probably meant there was some important rebellion business to be discussed. Just when were Megatronus and his supporters planning to make their big move, anyway? Sunstreaker couldn’t remember, and in the moment, couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Cancel them,” he growled at Megatronus before he turned on his heel and marched to the door, “I’m not showing up anyway,” then past Megatronus’ second who moved to the side to let him through.

Frame edits his fragging ass… Not while his spark still pulsed.

--------------------------

“No. I’m fragging well going, and that’s final. Slag you.”

“I will not have who knows what manner of filthy servos pawing you,” Megatron snarled at him. His fist slamming into the wall next to him would have been more of a deterrent if Sunstreaker wasn’t able to simply slip under it. Something good out of their size difference…

But they’d been here before and Megatron made a grab at him when he tried to escape the revolutionist’s clutches—successfully escape, despite that. He danced out of Megatron’s reach, glaring the whole way, twice as hard when Megatron began to stalk towards him, angling just right to block his exit.

“It’s a party. That’s part of the drill. I won’t frag anyone as you slagging well know, and some groping? If I can live with it, you can live with it too. They’re my slagging frames.”

Megatron’s optics darkened with sheer anger, and this was one argument where it was unlikely either of them would just give, wasn’t it? The brothers wanted to go out and enjoy a nice evening with some fragging friends—let the high grade flow and music pound—and Megatron was intent on being the possessive bitch he always was. They never reached an agreement in these matters.

“Do you not find my attention enough?” Megatron asked from him, constantly advancing, and Sunstreaker constantly retreating. “Do you need to go seek the approval of strangers on top of it?”

“Pits, I don’t need anyone telling me I’m fragging beautiful, thanks. All I want is to go drink and dance. That is not too much to ask. No, wait. I’m not asking. I’m going.”

They glared at each other, but he managed to stay ahead of Megatron enough that he wasn’t grabbed and most likely ‘faced through the floor or something of equal pleasantness.

“Why is it so hard to understand I don’t want something of mine tainted?” Megatron demanded from him, his face and his field speaking of his fury. How dare Sunstreaker disobey him so, yada yada. It was the same old song and dance.

“I’d listen to that argument if I was about to ‘face someone, but some groping isn’t going to do a damn thing,” Sunstreaker growled. His optics didn’t flick to the door, he didn’t project his plan before he’d already set it in motion—dashing past Megatron when the opening was big enough, before his lover could physically stop him as he was so damn eager to do.

He made it to the door, and he made it through the door before he turned back just enough to snarl his final, vicious, “And you’ll just have to live with it, love.”

( Next )

#transformers #maccadam #maccadams #megatron #sunstreaker #sideswipe #megasun #megaswipe #fic #2021 #disaster

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yes-i-write-fanfiction · 4 years ago

Note

Swindle X Human Reader? Maybe Lockdown gets a bit jealous until he falls for Reader too?

Lockdown didn’t understand what Swindle saw in you. Honestly, a human? Now, Lockdown didn’t really have that big of a problem with this species of fleshbags, he couldn’t really care less to be honest, but conjuxing one? Had Swindle taken a cannonball to the helmet and lost his mind? Sure, he could understand being curious and all that but actually tying the knot? Humans were small, weak and short-lived. Getting attached to one was practically signing up for getting your spark broken and Lockdown didn’t want that to happen to Swindle.

As much as he loathed to admit it, Lockdown liked the sleazy bastard and didn’t particularly like the thought of some organic nobody swooping in like they owned the place and messed things up. Their relationship had been perfect before that fleshbag showed up but now Swindle just had to bring them along to every business transaction! If you just sat there quiet then Lockdown might not have felt as mad but of course you and Swindle just HAD to act all lovely dovely in front of him! Whenever you spoke it infuriated him. Lockdown had never actually talked to you but he could tell from your interactions with Swindle what kind of person you were. Naive, gullible and with an ever smaller brain than the rest of your species. Frag, you made Lugnut look like a damn genius in comparison! And Swindle loved it! Anyone could see that the merchant was head over heels in love with you! It made him feel sick to his tanks!

Tonight was not any different. Swindle had contacted him about a new weapon he had acquired and wondered if he’d like to come take a look. Of course Lockdown said yes, even if he wasn’t particularly interested in spending his hard earned shanix. Mostly he just went to see the greedy glitch himself.

The weapon itself was good and actually managed to pique Lockdown’s interest. Not to mention, the price wasn’t half bad. Still expensive but totally worth it. Usually, something like this would have him in high spirits but your presence on the counter had him forcing down a snarl in his throat. You looked so damn smug even though you hadn’t done anything but watch Swindle present the gun to him. You were wearing some expensive looking clothing, undoubtedly something Swindle had given you as a gift. He might be greedy but he liked having his stuff looking the best and this seemed to extend to his, ugh, conjux. Switching your attention from Swindle you happened to meet Lockdown’s optics. For a second you simply stared back at him but then the corners of your lips started to twitch and suddenly you were smiling at him, eyes dark and filled with what Lockdown could only assume was “look at me, getting the real goods while you have to resort to simply business”. Lockdown wanted to wipe that grin off your face with a blaster.

Swindle, who took his unusually quiet and brooding attitude for disinterest, started to try and sell and add other stuff that might interest the bounty hunter. When that garned no further reaction from the other mech he started to get nervous. That’s when you decided to chime in.

“Oh babe, didn’t you mention earlier that new stun-mod you just knew would make mister Lockdown so excited.” Immediately Swindle perked up, remembering that he did indeed say that, and hastily excused himself so he could go to the storage to get the mod. It would take couple of minutes to find it. This left you alone with Lockdown. You looked him up and down, eyes traveling over his body and your smile only grew bigger as you did. Lockdown wondered if he could break your neck before Swindle came back and blame it on you falling off the counter. He didn’t have much time to ponder this however as you started speaking again. “Wares not to your liking, honey?”

Lockdown finally let out that snarl he’d been holding in, baring his sharp denta. “Do not call me honey and the wares aren’t the problem.” He expected his aggression would frighten you as most people, cybertronians and human alike, found him to be quite frightening. But you didn’t so much as flinch under his heated glare. No, instead you seemed to grow bolder.

“I am happy to hear that’s the case” you responded, an easy-going smile revealing your white teeth. “You see, Swindle was so excited to do business with you and he prepared all this stuff to show you. He even practiced his sales pitch to me before you arrived! Oh you should have seen the smile on his face when you said you were interested in purchasing from him.” The tone of your voice turned dramatically melancholy at the end, as if you were disappointed. Lockdown narrowed him optics as he heard what you had to say. It... confused him, why you told him this. What was your goal? Before he could ask however, you continued to talk. This time, however, your smile was nowhere to be seen, instead you gazed upon him with cold eyes.

“I will be frank with you since you seem like the kind of mech to appreciate honesty. I know you’ve been wanting to turn me into a bloody smear on the floor ever since you met me. Now, I don’t need you to like me, fuck, I couldn’t care less that you hate me.” You sneered at him as if he was some shit that had gotten stuck to your shoes. “But your shitty attitude and bad acting skills are making Swindle feel bad and now I know from how you’ve been staring at him all lovestruck that you hate that as much as I do. So hate me as much as you fucking want but keep it to yourself and act natural or I’ll make sure this is the last business transaction you’ll ever have with him. Understood?”

Stunned, Lockdown didn’t have the chance to answer as Swindle appeared, business smile on his face and a mod in his hands. “Sorry for taking so long, I really need to upgrade my storage unit! Ah, but it seems the two of you had a conversation while I was gone. Did my dear conjux prove to be an entertaining conversationalist?”

For a fraction of a second Lockdown remained silent before slowly a big grin split his face open. “Oh yes Swindle, you can easily say that. In fact, we both came to an agreement while you were gone.” Lockdown looked upon you with new optics and you smiled back innocently. His spark felt oddly warm as he looked back at Swindle. “I’ll have the gun, it’s just what I need for my next hunt. Now about that mod, tell me about it.” Swindle lit up like a Christmas tree and immediately started to explain just how great this mod was and how Lockdown definitely needed it. The bounty hunter half listened, mind busy churning over this new revelation. Ah, it seems he made a mistake, thinking of you as prey. You were clearly a hunter, just like him. A feisty little thing. Well, he looked forward to learning more sides of you, definitely. Wasn’t Swindle a lucky one?

#transformers imagine #transformers animated #swindle #lockdown

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anon-e-miss · 4 years ago

Text

Primus Help the Outcasts

“Geni, can we ask you somethin’?” Sideswipe tugged at Jazz’s servo as his progenitor stood up after folding away the last mat. There would be no more classes until after the Festival. The Twins had just finished hugging their favourite classmate goodbye before the two orn break.

“‘Course, Sides, what’s up?” Jazz brushed his servos against his thighs as he turned to see what they needed. They glanced at each other and looked back to him.

“Blue ‘n Smokey aren’t havin’ a Feast-cycle,” Sideswipe revealed. “Blue said since they’re Ori got fired they had to move into the shelter they don’t have credits enough for anythin’.”

“Oh bitlets,” Jazz crooned. “I didn’t know they’d lost their habsuite. It’s sweet o’ ya to think o’ yer friends.”

“Does that mean no?” Sunstreaker asked, glowering a little.

“No, Sunny, it don’t,” Jazz replied. “Lemme talk to yer grandcreators ‘n see if we can’t give yer friends a Feast-cycle.”

Smokey, or more formally, Smokescreen, helped Jazz with the younger classes as a means of paying for his own lessons. Though it was not Circuit-Su he was learning, but the cyber-violin. He had practised the martial art since he had been his little brother’s age and helping in the classes was helping him remember his lessons, though his training was not advancing. Jazz had offered him a spot in the advanced class and he had only shaken his helm. He nudged his creations from the Dojo he had inherited from Master Yoketron. Smokescreen had not said a thing about losing their habsuite.

Fragging Pit, if he had Jazz would have... he would have given them a place to stay. The options for shelters in Simfur were poor. Most were connected to the temples. Stories of abuse were common. Jazz had given fuel to a guttermech who had said he preferred to stay outside than to go to any of the shelters. That was only one mech’s opinion but Jazz did not think Bubblebee was a paranoid sort. In any case he had been a stellar employee thus far, and so far as Jazz knew there had been no problems at his habsuite. The minibot was a cheerful and good natured mech. Not the sort to pick fights or to find trouble, but he had found trouble in the shelters, or trouble had found him. Prowl had two mechlings to think of. The thought made Jazz shudder.

While the Twins were at school the next mega-cycle, Jazz went to the homeless shelter Sideswipe had said they were staying at. It had been founded by the Temple of Primus. Jazz looked up at the statues set above the door. This temple had a reputation for abuse, but it was one of the few that allowed procreators and sparklings to stay together. This must have been for Prowl a last ditch effort to keep his creations from being seized by SPS, a gamble meant to buy him enough time to find a new job, and a new home.

“Is Prowl around?” Jazz asked one of the residents who was sprawled on a couch, already over-charged the the joor was so early. Jazz would not judge. Everyone had their struggles.

“Prowl? The Praxian?” The mech asked.

“Yeah.”

“The Priest is uhh... helping him in the kitchen,” the mech said with a mirthless chortle.

“Helpin’...” Jazz dimmed his optics behind his visor and scowled. “Ya think he wants his help?”

“Probably not.”

Yet this mech was just lounging on the couch, utterly unbothered. Jazz told himself not to judge, but in this moment, he judged. He stalked through the great room in search of the kitchen. There were no signs but there was the smell of fuel cooking, and Jazz followed them to their source. When he opened the door Jazz arrive just in time to see Prowl pushing a spindly mech away from himself. His broad doorwings were canted straight up in a pose Jazz knew to mean outrage. Smokescreen, typical of a youngling, used it often. The Priest was not deterred. He murmured that it was so important that Prowl get into a proper habsuite, before SPS got wind of the situation. Jazz snarled when he saw the Priest reach for Prowl’s aft as he assured the Praxian he could pull some strings. Prowl caught his servo with an effortless swipe and squeezed it hard, so hard the Priest made a high pitched whine and sank to the ground.

“I think y’re forgettin’ yer vows,” Jazz said as he crossed the threshold. “Pretty sure blackmail ‘n molestation are sins.”

“Jazz,” Prowl said, dipping his doorwings lightly.

“How ‘bout we take a walk?” Jazz suggested. Prowl released the Priest’s servo, and inclined his helm.

“Lead on.”

They stopped at an energon bar and Jazz ordered two cubes before Prowl could offer more than a weak protest. He looked slagged, still proud but in a brittle way. From Smokescreen, Jazz knew Prowl had been an enforcer in Praxus, and he knew they had been pulled from the ruins unharmed and then been reunited with Bluestreak... Bluestreak who had been made to watch the slaughter of Praxus by Vosian goons. The destruction had been total. There had been precious few survivors. Most had gone to Iacon, but for some reason Prowl had taken his creations to Simfur.

“How ya holdin’ up?” Jazz asked as they walked along the quiet path in Jazz’s favourite park.

“Fine,” Prowl replied. It might even have been the truth. He sipped at the cube, savouring the pressed energon.

“The Twins told me ya lost yer habsuite, ‘n yer job,” Jazz explained his presence though Prowl had not bothered to ask. “I wanted to make sure ya were all a’ight.”

“We are managing.”

“Any chance ya feel like tellin’ me what happened? Ya were workin’ in private security?”

“I was working for a mech called Lockdown. He rented us a habsuite as part of my wages. When I refused his advances, I was fired, and evicted.”

“That fraggin’ sack o’ scrap,” Jazz hissed. “That’s just like Lockdown.”

“You are familiar with him?”

“We trained at the Dojo together.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah... Ya refused the Priest’s advances too.”

“Yes. I imagine I will be needing to move us to a different shelter before the mega-cycle is done. If SPS does not come by first.”

“Listen. I don’t wanna overstep, but I am, let’s be real. The habsuite ‘bove mine is empty. It’s yers if ya want it.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Prowl replied. “I do not have the credits to pay rent.”

“The landlord’s a good mech. He’ll give ya some time. He’ll just be happy a sweet pair o’ mechlings got a roof over their helms.”

“That is naive.”

“Nah.”

“Nah?”

“My procreators own the whole buildin’, Prowl. They got the shop on the bottom floor, ‘n the live above it. Me ‘n the Twins are ‘bove them, ‘n my brother used to be above me but he’s moved into the habsuite ‘bove the bar he’s fixin’ up so it’s empty. We were talkin’ ‘bout findin’ a tenant after the Feast o’ Mortilus.”

“A tenant pays rent.”

“‘N ya will, once yer back on yer peds.”

“Your procreators will not agree to this.”

“Sure they will.”

“No, Jazz, they will not. You have no idea who I am, do you?”

“No?”

“Perhaps you should look back at the coverage surrounding mine and Smokescreen’s rescue.”

“Why?”

“So you understand why your procreators will not want to rent to me, let alone offer charity, and why I am highly unlikely to find a job in Simfur, or Iacon or anywhere else on this planet unless I serve it on my back.”

#anon-e-miss writes #primus help the outcasts #maccadams #christmas fic #sort of #don't argue with me #tf jazz #tf prowl #fall of praxus #my favourite suject... weird

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my-own-oracle · 5 years ago

Text

Cultural Misunderstandings

Shore leave on the planet SN34 had been exciting. A planet-wide celebration was occurring, and in the city nearest the main spaceport, a festival was in full swing.

You walked among the peddlers, swaying back and forth in time with the music drifting to your ears. You watched the native people dancing and laughing. You tried to mimic some of the dance catching the eyes of some of the dancers. A small tap on your shoulder snapped your attention to your side.

“Would you care for a dance?” A young female Nerae asked as she grabbed your hand and led you into the crowd. All the women danced on one side, and you were passed from one individual to another. While the males danced on the other side and only with each other. As you danced and the music changed to spotted Rodimus and Ultra Magnus.

The music picked up again, “Rodimus!” you handed your current partner off, making your way to the edge of the dancers. The red mech looked over as you ran up, your hand grabbing his servo.

You were thankful at this moment for brainstorm and his experiments. His most recent one had the spectacular byproduct of enlarging you to only a few feet smaller than an average cybertronian, and almost just as tall as the Nerae. Effectively making your mission of dragging your captain out of the crowd to dance a lot easier then it would have been before.

Rodimus laughed as you pulled him towards the center. You didn't know any festival dances, so you took to repeating the dance from earlier throwing in some spins and hops to keep the energy alive. People began to stop and watch, the circle around the two of you growing smaller in radius but larger in spectators as the song progressed. Rodimus seemed to enjoy the attention, becoming bolder with his dancing and at some points taking the lead of guiding you through steps.

The music ended as Rodimus pulled you into his chassis. You were breathing hard, a smile plastered on your face. Hands fly around you both. In moments a red cape is fastened on your shoulders and a crown of exotic flowers perched on your head. Rodimus was still holding you close, the joy from the dance was being overtaken my embarrassment. Your heart sped up, Rodimus was keeping you so close. A flash of bravery told you to kiss him, but the thought fled as quickly as it came.

“You're as red as that cape” Rodimus chuckled. Primus, you loved his laugh.

The crowd began chanting, pulling you back to the reality around you.

“(Y/N) what's happening?” Rodimus pulled you closer you could feel the warmth radiating through your shirt. A strong arm was looped around your back to keep you with him.

“I don't know, The crowd seems excited and happy.” You squeeze his servo, though he probably doesn't notice. “But it's putting me on edge.”

The crowd begins to part as an older Nerae male came forward. He walks right up to the two of you. His red clothing set him apart from the rest of the crowd. With a simple raise of a hand silence fell.

“Young love is to be celebrated. We gather to celebrate the joining of these two lives” the older Nerae announced. You and Rodimus looked at each other you could feel the heat on your face. The old gentleman's voice was echoing across the crowd. “May the gods bless them, and their lives be fruitful and plentiful by each other's side.” Rodimus fans kicked on blowing hot air onto you.

“Wait-”

“Were not-”

The two of you tried to interject, but nobody was listening.

The crowd cheered, music started up once more. People danced around the two of you careful not to step on your capes. And the market place became busy.

You were at a loss for words. How had this happened? What specific events before this moment led here? You looked up to Rodimus, you couldn't describe the look on his face, surprised, maybe also hurt.

“Please tell me that didn't just happen” you tilted your head forward hiding in his chassis. “Rodimus, tell me I didn't just get married to my captain” the word married triggered his fans to a higher setting.

“I- we-” he was at a loss for words. “Let's go somewhere more private and cool off before we fix this.” You two scurried off, not knowing the three sets of optics watching your retreat.

The two of you hid on a small side street, you took note of Rodimus, he wore a black cape with what looked like stars embroidered in gold on it. It was actually a little similar to the earth custom of a black suit in a way. You looked him over. Other than being distressed he seemed fine.

How ironic. The mech you had a thing for accidentally becomes your husband. It was almost something out of a lousy rom-com, this Mech becoming your husband and-

No. He's not your husband. You basically had a shotgun wedding with an unwilling participant. That means none of this is real. You decide to focus on the captain part of Rodimus and not everything else. Captain first, FRIEND second.

“I just got married-” The words slipped past your lips. “To my best friend.” Rodimus hadn't let go of your hand, in fact, it seems like he was holding it even tighter. Your mind began spinning a little. “They didn't even give you a chance to back out, the just married us. What if someone saw, your reputation would be,” your voice was switched on, every thought flowing out, “well it wouldn't be ruined, but it wouldn't help it-”

“Hey,” Rodimus interrupted your thoughts wrapping himself around you in a bear hug “I don't back down from anything.”

You chuckled “it's not a fight Rodimus, it was a wedding. You back out of those when you don't love the person your marrying, besides-”

“Who said I didn't want to marry you?” You felt your heart stop for a moment.

“Rodimus, you're the captain I'm basically a glorified stowaway. You don't want to marry me.” the words fall from your lips. They feel like fire, “Besides you have to love someone before you marry them.” You felt his metal lips gently brush your forehead.

“Let's take this slow then,” You could hear his spark beating in his Chassis. “I'll try and make you fall in love with me,-.”

“I'm already in love with you.” a murmur, more like a breath, slips out at a volume no human could hear. A cybertronian, on the other hand with their audio receptors, could pick it up it just fine. He chuckled again, kissing the crown of your head.

“Then we’ll keep this all between us until we're ready to be more open about it,” another kiss

Landed on your head “Besides, what's the worst that could happen?”

“What happened out there!” Ultra Magnus voice sounded from behind you and caused you and Rodimus to freeze. You turned in Rodimus’ arms. There stood Ultra Magnus, Chromedome, and rewind. Frag and a half.

“Hi guys,” You smiled shyly, “We-ah..” Rewind ran over to you. Had he recorded the whole thing?

“If you were planning on marrying Rodimus, you should have told us.” Rewind grabbed your hands “We would have talked you out of it.” His teasing was light making you laugh. Rodimus squeeze you a little, but you could tell he was still happy.

“I hadn't planned on getting married today, but I promise you would have been the first to know about it. You looked over to Chromedome “Besides, some good came out of it...” Ultra Magnus stepped forward.

“We will have to discuss this more on the ship, I don't want any more cultural misunderstandings.”

“Good idea,” Rodimus released you, spinning you around to face him. “After you Sweetspark,” Another kiss to seal the deal brushes against your lips.

#transformers #more then meets the eye #rodamus x reader #mtmte rodimus #tf rodimus #re-upload

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mylifeisfruk4ever · 4 years ago

Text

Primus created The Matrix of Leadership and gave it to Solus to guide Cybertron in his stead.

The god said, “You won't be alone in the darkest times, I will be your guide. Through you, I will speak, and you will be the only one to hear the voice of your God until my return. "

(From the Book of the Primes, Genesis of the Primes, chap.1)

"Ah, this was not expected."

Alpha Trion looked troubled as he stared at the screen in front of him. Not that Rodimus could usually tell much from his face, the old mech always had the same expression.

But he had the look of when he was unhappy, the one he usually reserved for Rodimus when he didn't want to study or read the Book of the Primes.

It was so boring! Rodimus wanted to see the world out of the Hall of Records, not read about mechs that had been deactivated for centuries.

He had tried to sneak away many times, but Alpha Trion had always found out. frustrating to be stopped every single time.

“It's not safe for you out there. It's not your time yet. ”

That was what Alpha Trion told him every time. Well, he didn't exactly say that, he gave him a long speech about responsibility, duty, and tantra other good things, but Rodimus didn't listen to him beyond the no, you can't go out.

But that was the gist. Rodimus was not ready to see the outside world.

And it was extremely unfair! Rodimus wasn't a sparkling anymore, and even though he wasn't quite an adult, he could make his own decisions!

“I have to take advantage now that he's distracted. This time he won't be able to stop me. "

Rodimus put the datapads on the table and was about to leave, when Alpha Trion stopped him," Where are you going? "

" Um ... well, you're busy, so ... "

“You thought you could hang around instead of studying,” the mech ended.

“Um… maybe…”

A sigh, “Rodimus, you have duties. You can't overlook them for frivolity. ”

“ I know, ”he said unhappily, ready to take one of the usual Alpha Trion lectures. He just needed a talk about responsibility to ease the day!

But surprisingly, Alpha Trion didn't. Instead, he said, “But I guess you're going to have to put the study aside for a while.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Matrix of leadership has decided to ditch its current Prime, and it's disappeared. “

“ Disappeared? How is that possible? ”

How could a powerful artifact vanish into thin air? It was not possible. Someone must have stolen it or something.

The mech explained, “I assume it hid to preserve itself. It's unusual, but not impossible. ”

“ Why did the Matrix want to hide? Didn't it like the Prime? ”

He saw a grimace on the older mech's face,“ The Prime is dead. And ha had a terrible enemy who, if he could, would not hesitate to destroy the Matrix. "

Rodimus widened his eyes," Who is the fool who would do that? Frag, the Matrix is a gift from Primus! ”

“ Rodimus, language. ”

“ Well, it doesn't change the fact that it's crazy. “

“ You're right - Alpha Trion admitted - But it's not just madness, it's heresy. There are no limits to what Megatron would do for power."

" Who is Megatron? " Rodimus asked.

His gaze hardened, “Megatron is an enemy of the Prime, and also your enemy. He has manipulated many good mechs into believing in his ideas. And the consequences ... "

Alpha Trion did not continue. It was as if there was a malfunction in his voice server.

“Unfortunately, you will soon see the consequences of what Megatron did.”

Holy Primus. Had he heard right? Did that mean what Rodimus hoped?

"Do you want to let me out?" Rodimus asked, quivering with emotion.

Alpha Trion nodded, “You have to retrieve the Matrix. It is the reason you were created. You must ascend as the new Prime. ”

He knew It. Alpha Trion had told him this for hundreds of irons, ever since Rodimus was old enough to understand what it meant to be a Prime.

Well, to be honest, he wasn't eager to become Prime. Rodimus didn't want the power or rule Cybertron.

The problem was that Rodimus had no idea what he wanted to do.

I want to get out of here. This is my chance to do it.

He could have started with that. Then he'll see.

#idw tf #transformers #rodimus #hot rod #megaop #transformers prime #tfp breakdown #comics #idw ratchet #idw transformers #maccadam

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limited-practice · 5 years ago

Text

Unstable Structure

I was talking with @jet-teeth about this post https://jet-teeth.tumblr.com/post/190467330915/starstruckswordsmech-autobots-the-reason-why and the great art she drew of it, and I got such a clear image of Intense Sunder on the left poking out a block with his needle tipped finger, Horrified Hubcap on the right, and Fed up Ambulon in the middle, and just had to write something. It was a great excuse to think about my favorites and to write something silly and fun.

2757 words of Sunder, Ambulon and Hubcap playing Jenga are under the cut.

Ambulon looked balefully at the tower of rectangular wooden blocks on the table in front of him. “Remind me why we have to play this again?”

“Well,” Hubcap said slowly, “It’s because Swerve- you know, the owner of the bar we’re all in? The metallurgist that likes Earth a lot?”

“I’m well aware of who our alt-mode curious barkeep is.”

“Ha, yeah, right. So. This is one of his favourite games and- and I think it was his birthday the other day and he wanted us all to celebrate it with him, so he told us to get into teams so we could play it together? In teams and compete with one another? Or maybe it was the anniversary of his bar opening. Or was it because it was the beginning of the week and he liked the name of the day?”

Ambulon tipped his head back and stared at the stained ceiling.

>he desires the company of others because he is lonely.

Sunder lent forward over the table and looked intently at the stack of blocks he’d finished building.

>there is a gaping chasm of nothingness circling his spark, and he’s sacred that it will pull him into its black depths and drown him by soft degrees. But he should not fear the darkness. He should learn to embrace it. He should learn how to hold it close and kiss it with the softness it deserves.

Ambulon swiveled his eyes to his teammate on his right.

Sunder’s hollow eye sockets bored into Ambulon’s face.

>you are never lonely in the dark.

Ambulon swiveled his eyes to his teammate on his left.

“Remind me why I got stuck on this table again?”

“That’s…” Hubcap bristled. “I don’t think you’re one to talk. Much.”

Ambulon raised his head and sat up straight. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Out of everyone on this table you’re, well, the only Decepticon. Ex-Decepticon. Teamwork isn’t exactly your, uh, strength.”

Ambulon lent forward and pointed a sharp finger at Hubcap’s Autobot badge. “Out of everyone on this table, I’m the only one who hasn’t murdered someone I worked with.”

“That’s-…true. So. Well. Right.” Hubcap grimaced. “Sorry. Um. Didn’t mean to cause offence there, and-”

“Yes you did.”

>yes you did.

“Look, can we just play? Please? I-…the two of you are looking at me and…and you haven’t even gone yet Sunder. You need to take your turn first because you built the tower.”

>the first to make their move is ahead of those who allow the insidious vines of doubt and decay to wrap their oily lengths around them and s q u e e z e out the light that never had a chance to breed.

“So…you’re thinking about it?”

Streams of dark air vented out of Sunder’s facial pipes and hung heavily around him, like a halo of corrupted smoke.

>I am not like the others.

Hubcap and Ambulon exchanged a look.

>I was born to build by taking away.

“Alright,” Ambulon said, in the weary tone of voice he used with a patient who thought they knew better but didn’t. “Let’s get this show on the road. If I lose to First Aid’s table then I’ve got deep cleaning duty for a month and I do not, I repeat do not, want that. So take a block away Sunder and let’s get going. Let’s get building. Let’s get winning!”

Ambulon looked at Hubcap. “See, I can be a team player. I am a team player.”

Hubcap’s eyes fixated on the peeling paint on Ambulon’s thumbs up. “…uh-huh.

“I was part of a combiner you know. I’m the very definition of a team player, so don’t accuse me of not being one again.”

“I won’t.”

“I know what it’s like to not be supported or appreciated, and I won’t do that to others. I won’t do it to you, my teammates, who I trust and respect and- SUNDER YOU SLAGGING MORON WHAT THE FRAG DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T DO THAT YOU’LL- OH SHIT YOU JUST DID IT, YOU JUST DID IT.”

Ambulon covered his eyes and Hubcap looked at the Jenga stack in horror.

One of Sunder’s needle tipped fingers was pushing a block at the very bottom.

“Why?” Hubcap whispered.

>it is burdened by the sins of those crushing it from above. I am here to relieve its suffering.

Ambulon dragged his fingers down his face. “We’ve lost. That’s it, we’ve lost. I’ve now got deep cleaning duty for a month thanks to you, you idiot.”

Sunder tilted his head and looked at Ambulon in a way that lowered the room’s temperature by ten degrees.

Several bots dotted around the room shivered and looked around in confusion.

Ambulon glared right back at Sunder. “Don’t think you can intimidate me you self-important smoke stack, because you can’t. I was a Decepticon medic don’t forget. A Decepticon. Medic. I’ve seen things that would make your eyes jump back into your sockets and fall out again. In fact they’d melt out of your face. They’d run down your front and stain your plating and seep into your vents and cause a build-up of optical rust that would require seven separate surgeries to fix. And I know all of this because it happened to a senior ‘Con who’s name I won’t mention, and because I assisted with surgeries two, three and four and took charge of number six.”

>the blocks are screaming.

Ambulon shook his head and Hubcap twisted his fingers together.

“I’m going to scream,” Ambulon said. “I’m going to scream out loud.”

“I’m going to scream silently,” Hubcap said. “Very silently and very loudly inside my head. If that makes sense. Ha. I don’t want to make too much of a scene.”

Ambulon gave him a curious sort of look. “Yeah you can do that, can’t you? Make things happen just by thinking about them?”

“Well it’s not- ha, it’s not that straightforward. I mean it’s easy for me to block or boost a signal because it’s part of who I am and comes as easily as breathing. Not that we breathe anyway, since we don’t have lungs and aren’t exposed to an oxygen rich atmosphere a lot of the time, and I just mean that as an Outlier I can do the things that…yeah.”

Ambulon tapped a world weary finger on top of the table. “As eloquent as ever, thank you.”

Hubcap’s blue eyes darkened. “What’s your problem?”

“What’s my problem? You want to know what my problem is? My problem is you and him and being on the losing team for this stupid game I didn’t want to play in the first place.”

“That’s more than one problem.”

“Have you always been the most popular bot in the room, or is this a recent development?”

>quiet. Both of you. I can’t hear the blocks.

“Because they’re talking to you?” Ambulon asked flatly. “Because they’re whispering sweet words of longing into your ear and begging for your tender touch?”

>you can hear them too?

“For the love of-”

“You could, ah, move that block back?” Hubcap suggested. “And choose another one?”

>no.

“Right. No. Of course not. But.”

>there is no space for doubt or time to dwell on it. It is a deceitful trick, and we must ignore it. We are moving forward, and cannot look back.

Sunder pushed the block a tiny bit more. The entire structure wobbled.

“You can’t look at it anyway,” Ambulon said, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. “since you don’t have any eyes.”

Sunder made a noise that could dissolve metal and evaporate acid.

“Hey,” Ambulon said, looking sharply at Hubcap, who involuntarily flinched. “You could use you mind moving powers! Push that block back into place where it belongs, and allow needle-fingers here to rethink one of his life choices and to do the right thing.

“Woah! That, urr, might be…” Hubcap glanced around nervously and lowered his voice to a hissing whisper. “Against the rules. It might be cheating. You want me to cheat?”

“Show me where it says so in the rules.”

“I, ha, judging by the tone of your voice already know you know it’s not in the rule book, but- but we shouldn’t do it. I won’t do it. It’s wrong.”

“It’s wrong of me to suffer deep cleaning duty because of the two of you.”

“How is this my fault?” As always when he got pissed off and geared himself up to deliver a speech, Hubcap’s voice thickened and steadied and all his self-doubt and stuttering vanished. “I didn’t build the structure and didn’t make the first move, Sunder did. I didn’t even get the chance to build the structure and, depending on your outlook, therefore be awarded or burdened with the first move. I’m not at fault here! I’m innocent! I’m just trying my best to do the right thing and get into the spirit of the evening and I keep getting dragged down by your miserable attitude and I won’t, I won’t, be sent to prison again for committing the crime of cheating! It’s fair enough I got a long sentence because I was a traitor and a killer and was one push of a button away from re-starting the war, but I won’t go back to that modified solitary containment cell with no windows and bad smells just because you don’t want to do some cleaning in what sounds like a filthy medical facility!”

Sunder trapped his tongue between his teeth in concentration and pushed the bottom block out further.

“Are you done?” Ambulon asked Hubcap flatly. “Have you got all that out of your system now? Or are you going to work yourself up even more and have a spark attack and short circuit all the electrics and turn off the ship’s anti-gravity pumps?”

“No,” Hubcap sulked.

Ambulon’s face lightened. “Because if you did, then we wouldn’t have to play anymore! Every structure would get knocked over in the dark or come apart and fly away!”

“You do…know that’s still cheating, don’t you? Or do I need to edit my speech and deliver it again?”

>the cold shadow is almost lifted and our friend is nearly free.

Sunder poked his chosen block again, and the entire tower shifted.

Ambulon sighed.

“And it doesn’t work like that,” Hubcap continued, not quite ready and not quite willing to wind himself back down. “I can’t manipulate an electromagnetic signal unless I’ve been in contact with it first. And I haven’t had cause to study and absorb the ship’s gravitational system, so. No.”

“What about the lights?”

“What about them?”

“Could you turn them off?”

“I…yes. That would be an easy block. But I’m not going to.”

“You could say it was an accident,” Ambulon pressed him. By now First Aid had seen the state of Ambulon’s table and was pointing and laughing at him. “You’ve blocked things by accident before, right?”

“I…yeah. Yeah I have.”

“Like what?”

>like what?

Hubcap blinked at the sudden interest from both of them.

“Uh, well, this one time I…accidentally blocked the signal to an energon refueling system and, um, racked up a six figure repair bill for it.”

“Why?”

>how?

“Ha, that- well I was, um, in my room one morning and…having a good time and…finished, and…”

“Please stop.”

>who were you with?

“Both of you can just stop.”

“Uh, just myself. Yeah. It was intense.”

Sunder leaned forward in interest.

>what exactly were you doing?

“I’m not going to say this again.” Ambulon said, raising his voice. “I’m not! And I don’t want to. So for one last time just Stop. Both of you. Let’s veer away from this unpleasant diversion and focus on this stupid game instead.”

“Oh,” Hubcap said, his eyes narrowing in his flushed face, “I see. You’re only interested in this stupid game when it suits you, and when you want me to shut up. That’s rude. And unprofessional. I have nothing to be ashamed about!”

“Except you clearly are.”

“Yes, well, that’s my choice. Sort of. The point is that you shouldn’t make someone uncomfortable for something that happens naturally to their body. I thought you were a medic? And that you’ve seen things no mortal bot should ever have to see?”

“Seeing is far better than imagining, believe me,” Ambulon said. “And just because I can cope with something doesn’t mean I want to expose myself to it.”

>talking of exposing…

The tower trembled and tilted as Sunder continued to push the center bottom block out.

>look. It’s nearly free.

“And we’ve nearly lost.”

“Yeah,” Hubcap agreed miserably.

Ambulon and Hubcap watched in shared fatalism as Sunder pushed the block further and further out, and the tower tilted and trembled more and more and more. But didn’t fall. It didn’t collapse. The block was sliding out and against all odds the structure was holding.

They both lifted themselves up from their seats and braced themselves on the table with flat splayed hands, and watched the miracle unfold in front of them with wide eyes and open mouths.

They were going to win.

Despite everything, they were going to win. Sunder was going to do the impossible and build the magnificent and not lose and they’d all be hailed as heroes and-

SMASH!

The tower collapsed instantly.

Sunder plucked out his chosen block from the pile of rubble.

>you’re free now.

Ambulon and Hubcap slumped back into their seats.

“That was terrible,” Ambulon muttered.

“It was a very poor choice,” Hubcap agreed.

First Aid made a loud noise, and once he got Ambulon’s attention, he made mopping and sweeping and cleaning and vomiting gestures. Pharma laughed out loud and Ratchet rolled his eyes.

Ambulon glanced down at the table.

“I, err,” Hubcap began. “Sorry you have to do that. Go back to them. I know what it’s like to do something you don’t want to do in front of people you don’t want to be watching.”

“Whatever. It’s fine.”

“I’ll help you.”

Ambulon looked up and narrowed his golden eyes, which were now burning brighter. “You don’t have to do that. I’ve already lost one bet, and I don’t want to be in debt to another person.”

“It’s unconditional. I just…want to. For a teammate. For you.”

A flurry of emotions blew across Ambulon’s face. “OK.” He looked down and away and back up. “Thank you.”

Hubcap nodded. “And if…something gets blocked, like the codes to Pharma’s favourite food and drink orders out of every single dispenser machine there is, then, well, accidents do happen.”

Ambulon smiled, and the flurry settled warmly. “Many accidents happen on this ship. It’s a chaotic place at times.”

Hubcap nodded again. “So do we…start work now?”

“Hell no.” Ambulon stood up and pushed his chair back. “We drink now. We’re the first team out of this contest, which means we get the pick of seats and don’t have to wait to be served. Let’s get that table over there and start a tab.”

Hubcap stood up as well, and neatly pushed his chair back under the table.

Sunder looked up at them, and a shadow crawled across his sunken face.

>you are both going. You are both leaving me in the debris of my unexpected failure.

Ambulon tutted. “Stop sulking. We’re going to the table and you’re going to the bar to start the tab. You’re buying all of our drinks tonight.”

Sunder stood up and smiled a smile that could carve through planets.

>what do you enjoy consuming, my medic friend?

“The tears of my enemies.”

>me too.

“I thought you were more into memories and the reeking remnants of brain modules?”

>I enjoy variety every now and again.

“Fair play to you. Come on team, let’s retire and drink and pass amusing judgement on others who think they know better.”

>agreed.

“Hell yes. I mean heck yes. I mean-”

“And you’re buying the drinks the next time we play a group game and lose within seconds.”

“Agreed,” Hubcap said immediately. “But…”

“But that implies we’re going to lose again?” Ambulon supplied.

“But that…implies you want us both as your teammates again.”

Sunder took Ambulon’s hand, opened it, put the chosen block in his palm, and carefully wrapped his fingers around it to form a fist.

>a momentum of our first time together.

Ambulon glanced down at his fist. The small wooden block felt warm within in. “Thanks. I think.”

>you are welcome.

“Yeah. Yeah I guess I am.”

#ambulon #sunder #hubcap #transformers #jenga #my writing #this was written pretty much in one go and isn't serious #it's fun to write dumb comedy and let loose with dialogue #comedy #sfw #well there's a couple of swear words so not 100% sfw I guess #I love all of them #and I love that jenga post #I want to write all the other teams playing #or the sunder hubcap ambulon trio playing other games #it's a regular thing onboard the ship

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starjack · 5 years ago

Text

Thank you, @pixeledpurple for finally giving this starjack writing request blog a starjack writing request. It’s not totally exact, but I hope you still enjoy it.

Quarantined

Wheeljack was working in the lab, his head hunched over a circuit board. Wisps of smoke curled up from the tip of the soldering iron. He sniffled against the smoke and rolled his shoulders to banish the ache. After a couple more connections he sat up and stretched, pulling his arms above his head until his shoulders cracked.

“Oof,” he sighed. He checked his chrono and kept at it.

The door to the lab slid open. The grating voice that followed was unmistakable. “Wheeljack, do you have a moment?”

Wheeljack didn’t look away from his work. “Give me a sec.” He burned another wire into place then sat up. “Whataya need?”

Starscream sauntered around the work bench and made himself at home atop it, crossing one leg over the other so his foot nearly brushed Wheeljack’s shoulder. “I want you to decide where we’re going on our date. You never gave me an answer.”

Wheeljack’s fins blinked. He clicked off the soldering iron and put it down. “Our date?”

“Yes, last week. You asked me on a date, and I haven't heard anything since, so I thought I’d take the initiative.”

Wheeljack’s face began to warm, he swallowed the lump in his throat and held his hands tightly together. “Must’a been some mistake. I don’t remember asking you to go on a date.”

“Yes, you did, after you gave me the report,” Starscream pointed in the air from one event to the other. “You were about to walk out and then you stopped and haphazardly asked me if I wanted to go out sometime, and I said yes, and you haven’t spoken to me since.”

“You said yes?”

Starscream furrowed his brow and sneered. “Yes,” he snapped. He hopped off the table and turned to walk away. “But if it was just some stupid prank-”

Wheeljack sprung out of his seat. “No no-” he reached forward and brushed Starscream’s shoulder, but quickly drew back. Once the steely red eyes landed on him, Wheeljack felt a weight hit his chest. “Uh, no. It wasn’t a prank.”

“Then how come you haven’t been answering my comms?”

“Just been workin’, that’s all.”

Starscream stared past his nose, his lips pulled into a loose purse. “Alright,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “So where are we going?” He asked slowly.

“Going,” Wheeljack clapped his hands together. “Uh-” he shrugged, smiling behind the mask. “We can go wherever you want.”

Starscream cocked a brow. “Wherever I want?”

“Yup."

“Are you sure about that?”

Wheeljack opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead he nodded. “Yup.” He croaked. “Anywhere.”

“Hm,” Starscream flashed his smirk. “Okay. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“I bet you will.”

“When?”

“What?”

“When is the date.”

“When?”

Starscream rolled his eyes. “Do you need a reboot. Yes, when, give me a day and time. I do have a life.”

“Uhh-” Wheeljack glanced at the work on his table. “Uhhhhh-” he looked back at Starscream. “Tomorrow?”

“Is that a question?”

“Yes?”

Starscream shook his head. “Sure,” he flicked a hand. “Tomorrow.” He turned on a heel and made to leave.

Wheeljack’s fingers fiddled at his sides. “H-hey,” he called.

Starscream stopped but didn’t turn around.

Wheeljack took a deep vent. “How about tonight?” He proposed.

Starscream turned halfway around. “You’re busy.”

“I don’t gotta be.” Wheeljack flapped his hand at the workbench. “That can wait.”

Starscream hummed. “No,” he checked his talons. “I’d rather our romantic evening not be a rush job. I’ll just see you tomorrow.”

As soon as Starscream took a step, the door slid shut in his face. A red light began to dance through the room. “What?” He muttered to himself, still staring at the closed door he hadn’t touched. He whipped around. “Wheeljack!”

Wheeljack put both of his hands up. “Not me.”

“Primus help me,” Starscream snarled, hoping on his comm. He opened a channel to anyone working in the basement. “Someone tell me what the frag is going on,” he demanded.

An unfamiliar voice came over the comm. “There’s been a rust leak, the entire floor is being quarantined.”

“A what!” Starscream screeched.

“Rust,” Wheeljack piped up. “We keep less potent samples of Cosmic rust in the biolab to study.”

Starscream turned off his comm. “Oh that’s just peachy,” he grumbled. “How long are we stuck down here?”

Wheeljack shrugged. “Dunno. Could be minutes, could be hours.”

“Great. Just great,” Starscream kicked the door. He growled, his wings going to full height. His hand shot out and pointed to the red flashing light. “How long does that stay on?”

“Till the lockdown is over.”

“Good to know.”

Starscream marched to one of the work benches. He found a large wrench in one of the drawers, hauled it over to the wall and smashed the red flashing light to pieces.

“Okay, now that that’s taken care of,” he turned around and tossed the wrench aside. “Got a deck of cards or something?”

Starscream beat Wheeljack at six games of War and three games of Spit, when asked to play blackjack, Wheeljack wholeheartedly refused, citing Starscream’s history of cheating and sneaking.

“Oh, Wheeljack,” Starscream purred, cleaning up their last game. “I would never. Now is the perfect time to establish a basis of trust,” he snorted a brief laugh but quickly collected himself. “Since we’re potentially entering a relationship. I'd hate to go into that thinking you can’t trust me.”

“You cheated at War.”

“Is putting my aces at the bottom and drawing from the bottom really cheating?”

“Yes.”

“I disagree. But anyways,” Starscream smiled. “As much as I hate everything about this, at least now you have the time to think about where you’re taking me.”

“When?”

Starscream smile dropped. “On our date.”

“Oh, right,” Wheeljack nodded wide. “That.”

Starscream reshuffled the cards in his hands. “I think you should pick.”

“Why?”

Starscream shrugged, staring at the cards. “Well, you asked me. You should be the one who plans it.”

“But you're a participant, so you should participate.”

“I want to be treated, Wheeljack. I don’t want to have to do anything.”

“Is that why you said yes?” Wheeljack tried to swallow the dryness in his mouth. “Thought you were gonna get a nice dinner outta me?” He spoke a little louder. “Not to start a fight, but if that’s all you wanted then I don’t think I wanna do it.”

Starscream furrowed his brow, placing the cards down on the table but keeping his hand on top of the deck. “No.” There was no bite to his words. “I said yes because I wanted to go on a date with you.”

Wheeljack’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh.”

“You thought I didn’t.”

“Well, I mean. I mean you’re,” Wheeljack gestured him. “Ya know. You’re. Ya know.”

Starscream leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. “I’m what?”

“Ya know. You. You’re you.”

“And that is?”

“Don’t make me play this game, Starscream, you know what that is.”

“Ah, yes,” Starscream nodded, sitting up straight. “The cold, calculating, manipulative, unliked, Me. That’s it.”

“I didn’t mean that-”

“Then what did you mean?”

Wheeljack’s mouth snapped shut. “That’s what I meant,” he admitted weakly.

“That’s what I thought.” Starscream’s eyes became sharp. “You know, Wheeljack, I try really hard not to lie to you. I would appreciate it if you showed me the same courtesy.”

Wheeljack scoffed. “Please.”

“And I know you find that hard to believe, but it’s true.” Starscream sneered to himself. “I-” he spoke slowly. “Value your companionship. You’ve been a good friend.”

Wheeljack thumbed his fingers atop the table. “Well, thanks. I didn’t expect to hear that from you.”

“Tell me honestly. Did you ask me out because you wanted to?”

Wheeljack took a deep vent. “No,” he admitted. “Ironhide dared me.”

Starscream’s wings went all the way down. “Thanks.” He said, his voice tight. He stood from his stool and walked to the other side of the room. He sat down, took a datapad out of his subspace and started reading.

Wheeljack slid the deck of cards across the table and tucked it under his hands. He clenched his jaw, moving his tongue around his mouth. Ironhide had dared him two weeks ago to ask “The Screamer,” on a date to see if Wheeljack got ripped to shreds or, better yet, laughed at. But when Starscream said yes, Ironhide told Wheeljack that the last thing he should do was go on that date. He said that Starscream probably said yes out of boredom or as a joke in return. As if it were so far fetched that Starscream would genuinely want to go on a date with him.

Now Wheeljack wasn’t so sure.

Ironhide probably didn’t mean anything by it, telling Wheeljack that Starscream would never want to go on a date with him. As surprised as he was, Wheeljack was admittedly looking forward to going on a real date. His first real date in millions of years, even if it was with Starscream, it was something normal. Something leisurely, after not being able to do anything for leisure almost the entire time he was alive.

Wheeljack stood up and walked to the workbench that Starscream had claimed. He was staring at his datapad, but his eyes didn’t move around the page. His brow was stuck in a furrow.

“What do you want.” He said. “I’m busy.”

Wheeljack took a deep vent. “Ya know, I really did want to go on a date with you-”

“Save it,” Starscream spat. He clicked off the datapad. “You don’t need to lie anymore. I know I’m just a joke to you, like I am to everyone else. I don’t want to listen to your bullshit.”

Wheeljack thrummed his fingers atop the table. “I’m sorry I lied-”

“I knew you were lying. You think after a million years I can’t spot a liar. You’re not good at it.”

Wheeljack swallowed the lump in his throat. “Ya know, it’s hard to tell with you.” He waited for a response, but didn’t get one. He went on. “Yer the most notorious liar in the world. How was I supposed to know you weren’t playing me back.”

Starscream’s wing rattled. “What would I have to gain.”

“I dunno-”

“Why would I ever do that?” Starscream finally looked at him. “I’m not allowed to want a little bit of normalcy? Or maybe, potentially, by chance, be attracted to you?”

Wheeljack’s fins blinked. “Yer attracted to me.”

Starscream tapped his claw on the table. “Maybe.”

Wheeljack drew back. “Oh.”

Starscream waded his head back and forth, rolling his eyes. “I guess now you want to date me, huh? What a joke.”

“No no, I was serious before when I said that I was serious about wanting to go on a date with you. Ironhide convinced me not to.”

Starscream scoffed. “Weak.”

“I’m allowed to be cautious.”

“Whatever.”

Wheeljack turned in his seat. “Hey, listen, I’d still be up for a date if you are.”

“If we ever get out of here.”

“Who says we need to get outta here,” Wheeljack climbed out of his seat and went over to his cot in the corner. He took a bottle of high grade from under the bed, grabbed two freshly cleaned beakers from beside the sink, and returned to the work bench. He smiled at Starscream. “We can make our own date.”

Starscream cocked a brow. “Really?”

Wheeljack poured the high grade. “Listen, I know you didn’t want our romantic encounter to be a rush job, but think about it,” he pushed one glass over to Starscream. “What’s more romantic than being totally alone with high grade?”

Starscream accepted his glass. “No one to bother us.”

“Or interrupt.”

“No annoying onlookers,” Starscream hummed as he brought the high grade to his lips. “Maybe you’ve got a point.”

Wheeljack nodded, retracting his mask to sip his drink.

Starscream’s eyes dimmed. “So,” he drawled, a smirk slipping onto his lip. “What, exactly, do you think someone would be interrupting?”

Wheeljack blinked. “Heh,” his fingers tapped the side of the glass. “Just this. Our time together.”

Starscream chuckled. “What, no moves?”

“I already made my move. It’s your turn.”

“Oh, it’s my job now?” Starscream smiled, showing his teeth. “Alright. Let me think, I’m a little rusty.”

“I can wait.”

Starscream stared off into space for a moment. “Hmm. Okay.” He pursed his lips. “So? Come here often?”

Wheeljack broke out into laughter. He held his chest and threw his head back.

Starscream nearly choked on his engex. He shoved Wheeljack’s shoulder. “Shut up, it wasn’t that funny.”

Wheeljack struggled to catch his breath. “Yo-you’re face,” he laughed. “What the hell was that face?”

“I was trying to be sexy.”

“If ya wanted that, you got it.”

Starscream covered his smile with his cup. “Hm.”

Wheeljack swallowed his next sip in a big gulp. “Too forward?”

“I’m allowed to be attractive just as much as you are.

“Aw, you think I’m attractive?”

“Very.”

“I’m flattered.”

“It’s true.” Starscream hooked his feet on the bar of Wheeljack’s stool. “I find you very attractive.”

Wheeljack put his hand on his chest. “Are you saying? That you’re only going on a date with me? Because I’m attractive?”

Starscream barked a laugh. “You’re sly when you want to be.”

Wheeljack held up his drink. “I got some tricks.”

Starscream finished off his glass in one swig and slammed it back down on the bench. “Pour me another.”

Wheeljack poured another glass. They chatted for a better part of an hour. Starscream was surprisingly talkative with a little bit of engex in him, and not nearly as mean and crude and dismissive as Wheeljack was expecting. Starscream even told the occasional joke, even after he stopped drinking. They shared war stories and work stories, and stories about experiments gone wrong.

“One time Shockwave was tasked with creating a gun that could turn inanimate things into rust. And of course, being me, I decided to make it infinitely harder on him.”

“Oh, so this one wasn’t an accident,” Wheeljack laughed.

“Heh, no.”

Wheeljack laughed harder.

“Listen, that one eyed bolt-for-a-brain was trying to weaponize cosmic rust, and I told him, ‘are you fragging stupid? You’ll get us all killed.’ and of course, being the almighty Shockwave, he didn’t give a frag what I said. So I let loose all of the rust samples in his lab. He had a nasty rust infection under his chassis for a month. Megatron was furious. At me, of course, because I could never keep the smirk off my face.”

“I gotta say, Starscream, if there’s one things the Autobot’s could say good about you, it’s that you certainly are bold.”

“The only way to survive in the cesspit was to be bold. I never got to have anything but a backbone and chafed knees,” he smiled, outlining the edge of the glass with his fingertip. “Part of the reason I was so eager to do something like this.”

“Yeah, same here. Working day-in, day-out, Prime puttting a new project on my table every week, expects it the next day. Sometimes I just wanted to shout, ‘listen buddy, you want this built you can do it yerself.’ They worked me to the bone, I’ll say that much.”

Starscream nodded. “I’m glad it's over.”

“Kinda feels weird. Still feels like yesterday we were tryin’a kill each other.”

“Let’s see what a few more years will do.”

“Or maybe just a few more minutes.”

As soon as the worlds came out of Wheeljack’s mouth, the door of the lab snapped open. Starscream looked over his shoulder at the open threshold.

“Or not.”

Wheeljack got off his stool, walked over to the door, closed and locked it. He shrugged. “I dunno. Looks like the door’s still closed to me.”

Starscream smiled.

Wheeljack returned to his seat.

#starjack #fic #my writing

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shenglingyuan · 6 years ago

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title: put little trust in tomorrow (1/2) (ao3) pairing: jiang cheng/wei wuxian summary: Jiang Cheng is but a mortal man with long pent-up desires and affection, who was he to deny himself of this chance? friends-with-benefits chengxian in modern day (:3

Chapter 1: carpe diem

A blast of rock music wakes Jiang Cheng from his deep slumber. No matter how many times he has listened to this, the sudden drop of the bass and the metallic sound of the electric guitar never fails to jolt him awake. However, the same can’t be said of Wei Ying, who at the moment is still soundly snoring next to him. To think that it’s his phone that is blaring so loud…he reaches for Wei Ying’s phone and turns the alarm off.

“Wei Ying,” he shakes him by the shoulders, “Wei Ying, wake up.”

He gets a sleepy groan in response.

“C’mon,” he sits up, pulling the blanket off of him, revealing Wei Ying’s bareness underneath. “Dr. Zhang will be on your case again if you show up late one more time.”

“Hey!” Wei Ying is startled from the sudden cold, groggily staring at Jiang Cheng’s mocking smile. Then, without warning, he grabs Jiang Cheng by his waist and pulls him back down to bed.

“You --!”

“Ah Cheng, you really don’t expect me to go to class this early after last night, do you?” Wei Ying mumbles, happily snuggling Jiang Cheng in is arms. His warmth spreads on Jiang Cheng’s bare back, his breath making the hairs at the back of his neck stand up.

“Idiot, it’s not even early anymore. I set the alarm to eight forty-five.”

“Anything before ten is too early.”

“Your class is at ten.” The walk to the university usually takes them twenty minutes at the earliest, if Wei Ying doesn’t get distracted by the most random things. Jiang Cheng has learned to leave the flat thirty minutes before class starts. In order to do that, he must wake Wei Ying even earlier.

“Want to sleep.” Wei Ying still doesn’t budge.

“Fine, I’ll wake you up again after I’ve taken a bath,” Jiang Cheng removes himself from his hold and heads to the bathroom to clean up. It only takes him ten minutes tops.

Though spring is starting to transition to summer, Jiang Cheng still picks a black turtleneck to wear to class to hide the marks Wei Ying carelessly left on his neck and chest. Many spots are turning to brown now, severely visible against his pale skin. When he finishes getting ready, the other man is still sleeping, returning to his loud snores.

He lets out a sigh before crouching to wake him up again.

“Wei Ying. Your turn.”

He doesn’t respond at all. Jiang Cheng motions to grab his shoulders again --

Wei Ying suddenly reaches for him first and pulls him down, laughing gleefully, burying his face on the crook of his neck and breathing in, “Mm, kinda want to sleep some more.”

“Dr. Zhang will drop you from class if you have two more absences, get up!” Jiang Cheng protests, prying his hold off of him, “And let go of me, you haven’t even taken a bath!”

“Fine, fine,” he finally obliges, getting up from the bed, not caring that the blanket that keeps him covered has now fallen off of him.

Jiang Cheng instinctively looks away. When he hears the door to the bathroom close, he finally relaxes and lies down back on the bed, covering his eyes with both of his arms. What are we doing? He has been asking himself the same question for months now, but he never seems to arrive at any answer. What’s worse, there seems to sprout even more questions. It is a question that has always been at the tip of his tongue, but never has left his lips. There is the fear that such few words could ruin something that has been and is being built for years.

“ Quam minimum credula postero ,” he whispers like a prayer, hoping his heart would listen. Put very little trust in tomorrow. Just revel on what there is today.

“I swear, Dr. Zhang’s face darkened when the two of you actually arrived on time,” Nie Huaisang whispers hurriedly as they made their way to their next class. Thanks to Jiang Cheng’s understanding of Wei Ying’s time management, or lack thereof, they were able to enter the doors one minute shy of the official class hours.

“Some idiot sleeps like a log,” Jiang Cheng pointedly says, earning a stuck-out tongue from his target.

“I’m impressed you managed to wake him up. Must be hard being his roommate.”

“Excuse me, I’m still here,” Wei Ying drapes his arms on his friends’ shoulders, taking advantage of his height, “You know what’s difficult, Huaisang? It’s being Ah Cheng’s roommate. I thought we left Madam Yu in Yunmeng, but it seems she’s living in him!”

Nie Huaisang laughs, while Wei Ying receives a hit on his side from Jiang Cheng’s elbow.

“Anyway, I’ll go first now,” Huaisang says, letting Wei Ying’s arm drop, “See you at lunch!”

Huaisang goes a different way from the two of them. Both Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying are Business Management students while Nie Huaisang is majoring in Economics. Having gone on the same primary school and high schools, they are the closest of friends. Every semester, they make sure that they have at least one similar class and similar break times.

Jiang Cheng adjusts his collar, suddenly worrying that the hickeys might slip out from view. Wei Ying notices his movement and he reaches out as well, helping him to fix his collar.

“Sorry,” he says with a smile.

“No, you’re not,” Jiang Cheng huffs, “You always do this.”

Wei Ying moves closer to his ear. “You look good in a turtleneck, though.”

Such blatant flirting in the middle of the day…Jiang Cheng closes his eyes and resists the urge to roll his eyes. Wei Ying laughs heartily, knowing full well the effect he has on him. Thankfully, they finally arrive at their class and Jiang Cheng enjoys almost an hour and a half of peace from Wei Ying. ‘Almost’, because there must have been a cumulative total of seven minutes of disturbance from Wei Ying himself, who despite being terribly unfocused in class, still manages to get respectable marks.

The class ends right on time and the two make their way to the cafeteria. Huaisang has already been waiting for them on one table and they join him.

“Ah, you already bought food?” Wei Ying says as he notices the steaming bowl of noodles in front of Huaisang, “Ah Cheng, I’ll buy us food. What do you want?”

“Whatever you’re getting.”

“Okay!” Wei Ying leaves and goes to the food stall that sells spicy beef noodles, as expected.

“You know, Jiang Cheng, if we haven’t been friends for over a decade already, I’d think you and Wei Ying are in a relationship,” Nie Huaisang suddenly comments, looking anything but innocent.

“What— why did you even think of that?” Jiang Cheng bristles on his seat, pulling up his collar consciously.

“Ah, don’t mind me,” Huaisang shrugs off his own statement, “Just random musings.”

“Oi, what are you talking about? How dare you leave me out again?” Wei Ying arrives with the tray of their food. One of the bowls is bright red, obviously his. Jiang Cheng gets the less spicy one.

“It’s nothing,” Huaisang answers, “Just told Jiang Cheng that if I didn’t know better, I’d mistake the two of you as boyfriends.”

Jiang Cheng looks at Wei Ying’s face for his reaction, but there is only his usual smile.

“That’s not the first time I heard that,” he answers, and the topic has never been brought up again throughout their lunch.

As much as Wei Ying is the one enjoying most out of their arrangement, he’s the most quiet one too when the conversations goes into the direction of a ‘relationship’. Jiang Cheng has learned early on not to pry on the topic anymore, else he risks losing Wei Ying entirely. To be honest, he didn’t think himself to be one to engage in a ‘friends-with-benefits’ type of arrangement. After all, he has been into Wei Ying even before this mess. If given the chance, he’d actually want to be committed to him.

Yet, during a night of deep conversation about life and whatnots on their shared bed, Wei Ying must have decided out of nowhere that it was a good timing to move for a kiss. Jiang Cheng was initially surprised and Wei Ying almost thought of it as a rejection of his advances. But before the moment could dissipate, Jiang Cheng kissed him back. The kiss led to one thing and another, the two of them getting drunk not in liquor but with each other.

After revelling in the point of no return, Wei Ying had said, “I hope this doesn’t change anything.”

With those few words, Jiang Cheng already understood, and the hope that he was just starting to cultivate withers. But he agreed, “Of course.”

Jiang Cheng is but a mortal man with long pent-up desires and affection, who was he to deny himself of this chance?

And so they fall into an endless cycle of satisfying each other during nights when they needed to, and treating each other as the close friends that they are in front of everybody else. Some nights, they don’t even do anything, just sleeping with their arms around each other as they have been doing for a long time. These are all but friendship, Jiang Cheng reminds himself everyday.

Carpe diem. He has started to appreciate the overused Latin phrase. Quam minimum credula postero.

“You know, you can actually date people if you want to.”

Jiang Cheng is occupied with making his report on his course on taxation. The report is not due in two weeks, but he wanted to make sure everything will flow smoothly. It takes him a while to process what Wei Ying has just said.

“I know that,” he returns his eyes on his laptop, suddenly feeling his chest tighten up for some reason.

“Then why aren’t you?”

“The keyword is ‘can’, not ‘have’. It’s not a requirement. Besides I’m too busy.”

Wei Ying raises an eyebrow at him, as if to say, then how come you have time here?

“I’m not dating you.”

“Point taken.”

A stretch of silence follows, only filled with Jiang Cheng tapping the keyboard and clicking on the touchpad. Wei Ying is quietly reading his own assigned paper, peeking at his phone from time to time.

Yet, Jiang Cheng’s mind is suddenly filled with so much noise. The topic of dating has always been a fragile glass between the both of them. For Wei Ying to bring it up himself, Jiang Cheng can only infer that something has made him think about it.

“Why,” he finally asks, feeling the urgent need to calm down his thoughts, “Are you thinking of dating somebody?”

“Eh, takes too much effort,” Wei Ying lets out a snort, “I don’t want to waste my time having to know new people all over again.”

Then he’d rather people he already knows by heart.

The meaning behind his words just rekindle Jiang Cheng’s frustrations anew. Wei Ying has no shortage of friends, owing to his bright and warm personality that naturally attracts people of all kind. But in the question of who he knows best, of course the answer will be Jiang Cheng. And yet, Wei Ying expects nothing to change between them despite everything they’ve done together.

Jiang Cheng laughs at himself inside. What a fool he has been. What a fool he is being. What a fool he still will be. For even if it’s Wei Ying himself that tells him he can meet other people, it’s only Wei Ying that can satisfy what his heart is craving for, no matter if he only gets the crumbs.

Just how long can he keep a blind eye on the inevitable future that is to come?

___

The end of a semester signifies the left and right sem-ender college parties hosted by different organizations in the university. Consequently, the invites are coming from left and right as well. Though not a member of any organization, Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng have received multiple invites already. Since Nie Huaisang’s business-related organization is holding one of their own, the two decide to go there instead.

As expected, the place is packed with university students wanting to release all the stress they have accumulated from their hell weeks. The moment they arrive, there has been an endless stream of random friends that pull them to a side to converse, or to drink, and much later in the night, to dance. Eventually, Jiang Cheng loses sight of Wei Ying. He settles on a relatively empty corner and leans against the wall. Almost everybody is on the dance floor, swaying with the music and holding drinks in their hand.

“Jiang Wanyin, right?”

A familiar voice calls to him just as he is downing his sixth glass of beer. Looking at the source, he finds that it is a classmate in one of their electives. The name has already escaped him though.

“Hey.”

“…Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my name?” The girl looks offended. Upon closer inspection, Jiang Cheng could see the red flush that has already spread from her face to her chest. He raises his eyes immediately.

“Maybe I have,” he throws her a wry smile, hoping she gets the drift and walks away. Instead, she probably has decided that Jiang Cheng is the best company as of the moment and leans on the wall right next to him. “Do you need anything from me?”

“Perhaps.”

Jiang Cheng looks around. Amidst the packed crowd, he sees a group of huddled people side-eyeing them from time to time.

“Are you here on a dare?”

The girl just shrugs, chugging the vodka bottle she’s holding.

“Whatever it is, I’m not giving my consent,” Jiang Cheng says to be safe. He’s not ignorant to the games their peers love to engage in especially during times like this.

A laugh escapes the girl’s lips, “I didn’t know you could be funny. Don’t worry, it’s not something like that.”

“Then why are you suddenly here?”

“A bet.”

He raises an eyebrow at that. “What is there to bet on?”

“I suppose you’re already taken then,” she says instead, completely ignoring his question, “With how defensive you’re being?”

Jiang Cheng has yet to form the answer on his mouth when Wei Ying suddenly appears by his side, a wide smile on his face, a glass half-filled with a brightly-colored drink on his hand.

“Heyyy!” Wei Ying drags his greeting, draping an arm over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, then turns the both of them to face the girl. “Lin Yuhei, am I right?”

“Glad you remember me, Wei Wuxian,” Yuhei knowingly smiles at both of them, “Anyway, I’ll go first. Thanks for the company, Jiang Wanyin.”

In no time, she has returned to her group of friends, and a certain amount of money gets passed around.

“What was that about?” Wei Ying asks confusedly, “I never knew you were friends with her.”

“I didn’t even know who she was.”

“Maybe she’s interested in you.”

“Hah. Funny.”

“What are you even doing here sulking? Man, we’re at a party!”

Jiang Cheng swigs the remaining beer, swaying the empty cup in the air afterwards, “I’m too old for this kind of thing.”

Wei Ying makes a face at him, then he says, “Wanna go home?”

His arms are still around Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. They are both unusually warm from all the alcohol, and Wei Ying’s breath smell both of smoke and liquor. It seems he has been enjoying before he came over. He doesn’t want to be such a burden and force him to go.

“I can go by myself, you can stay here if you want.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’ve had your fill of alcohol.”

Wei Ying stares at him for a while, then at the end, shrugs, “Alright.”

“Call me when you’re about to go home.”

“Yes, mom,” he grins.

Jiang Cheng books himself a ride and made his way home in silence. Thinking about it, he could have persuaded Wei Ying to go home with him. Most likely than not, it would have ended up again in one of their usual nights, given the alcohol.

Maybe, it’s precisely why he insisted on going home alone. He could at least tell himself that he’d successfully avoided another temptation.

Yet upon arriving at their apartment, and even after he has cleaned up and laid himself on bed, he kept on tossing and turning, feeling restless at Wei Ying’s absence. Every other two minutes, he’d check on his phone for any new message. Never mind that he doesn’t turn it on silent mode anyway. His eyes must see for him to believe.

Unable to sleep, he flips through his Wechat to check updates from the people who’s still in the party. Wei Ying appears in a lot of pictures. One of the stories even had him chugging what remains of a vodka bottle, the surrounding people cheering for him loudly. In the next story posted by Nie Huaisang just seven minutes ago, a person is pushed forward to the center and the people started shouting ‘Kiss him! Kiss him!’. The person comes closer to Wei Ying, too close to be just a friendly distance. The video then ends, leaving the watcher hanging if anything really did happen afterwards. Jiang Cheng freezes for one moment. Slowly, he releases a long breath, willing his heart to stop beating so painfully.

“It doesn’t concern me,” he repeats at least five times before closing Wechat and throwing his phone far from his reach.

Not even a minute later, the discarded phone started ringing. Jiang Cheng immediately gets up and reaches for it, answering the call without looking at the screen.

“Hello?”

“Jiang Cheng?” It’s Nie Huaisang. “I’m about to drive Wei Ying to your place, just letting you know.”

“Thanks, is he out?”

“Nope, but conversation is impossible.” An unintelligible protest comes from the other end of the phone. “As you can hear -- Ah, Wei Ying! Damn, wait, gotta let him puke first before I drive him home. We’ll be there in a few.”

The call ends, and somehow, Jiang Cheng feels a bit more at peace. At least Wei Ying is with Nie Huaisang now. He had thought the guy would end up sleeping in other people’s place.

Jiang Cheng waits for twenty minutes in front of their building. A familiar engine sound finally arrives, he sees Nie Huaisang's car pulling over. Standing up abruptly, he rushes to the car as soon as it stops, opening the door to the passenger's seat where Wei Ying is dozing off.

“Thanks, man,” Jiang Cheng tells Nie Huaisang as he pulls out Wei Ying from the car, “Sorry you had to babysit this bastard in my stead.”

“It's nothing at all. I'm just gonna warn you of his major hangover when he wakes up. He's too drunk, actually saw him making out with some guy that we don't know. So yeah, really drunk.”

A needle-like pain stabs at Jiang Cheng's chest.

“Is it the same guy on your story?”

“Ah, you saw that already? Different guy.”

“I see. Thanks again,” he swallows heavily, suddenly finding it hard to breathe for a moment. “Be careful in driving.”

“Yeah sure, see you around.”

It isn't until the car's tail lights disappear from his view that Jiang Cheng finds the strength on his legs to walk back into their apartment. Wei Ying is still out, so he bends down and places Wei Ying on his back, carrying him piggy-back style.

Still, the weight in his heart is much heavier to bear.

____

Wei Ying wakes up as the sun's rays hit his face. This also reminds him that it's way too late as their room faces the west. With his head pounding, he rolls on the bed until he falls on the floor, having no motivation to get up on his own.

“Ah Cheng!” he calls out. No answer. This time, Wei Ying finally gets up, roaming his eyes around their empty room. “Ah Cheng?”

He looks for his phone and finds it on the bedside table. There are at least over a dozen notifications in each of his social media accounts. It seems as if he made quite of a mess last night. There is even a chat on his Wechat with six consecutive lines of message. He doesn't know who the person is though, so he ignores it. He flips through his other apps, checking all notifications. None came from Jiang Cheng.

Feeling worried, he calls his phone. Jiang Cheng picks up after the seventh ring, “Finally awake?”

“Where are you? You didn't wake me up.”

“Can't I go out without you?”

“That’s low, but I’m still your friend and your roommate. What if Madam Yu suddenly calls out of nowhere and looks for you? What am I supposed to say?”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh yeah? Then what if it’s Sis that suddenly looks for you?”

Jiang Cheng heaves a sigh on the other end of the phone. “Do you need anything?”

“I…” Wei Ying pauses then, realizing he doesn't really had any reason for looking for him. “I was just worried. When I woke up you're suddenly gone. It's never happened before, you know.”

“Better get used to it. It's not like we're married.”

Then Jiang Cheng unexpectedly drops the call.

Wei Ying is left hanging, frowning at his words. Jiang Cheng sounded as if he's mad at him. The married remark is not a new thing, it's even a running joke between the two of them. But just now, that word seemed to carry a bitter poison.

He looks at his phone again and checks last night's updates from other people. Not long after, he finds Nie Huaisang's story featuring him and some guy. A blurry memory rises up in Wei Ying's mind.

“Ah...fuck,” he mutters, going back to the six consecutive lines of messages that be received. This must be the other guy he now vaguely remembers making out with. He calls Nie Huaisang then, and the phone is answered almost immediately.

“Whoa! You're finally alive.”

“Did you bring me home last night?”

“I did, I did. Why?”

“What did you tell Jiang Cheng?”

“That I saw you making out with someone because you're too drunk?”

A light bulb seems to have turned on at the back of Wei Ying's mind. “Ah.”

“Is there a problem?”

“Nothing. Thanks by the way.”

He drops the call then contacts Jiang Cheng once more.

“What-”

“That was nothing,” Wei Ying cuts off before Jiang Cheng could say more, “The guy I made out with. It was nothing.”

“Should I care if it was something or nothing?”

A frown contorts Wei Ying’s face, “...Right, I just wanted to say.”

“Nothing ever means something to you, Wei Ying. You and I both know that.”

Wei Ying suddenly feels lost. Jiang Cheng has never been vocal about his feelings. Always buried underneath his words is his real meaning, but Wei Ying never really spared time to read between the lines. It made their arrangement easier to bear.

But just now, those resentments seem to surface, displaying themselves in bare sight.

“What time will you be back?”

It’s not his style, but Wei Ying thinks he and Jiang Cheng should talk things out.

“Dinner, maybe. I’ll buy us food, don’t worry.”

“What are you doing anyway?” The sound of a doorbell can be vaguely heard from the other line, the bark of dogs making Wei Ying irrationally nervous all of a sudden. “Is that someone else’s house?”

There is a moment of silence, as if Jiang Cheng is still trying to string his thoughts together.

“Can you come home earlier?” Wei Ying asks.

At the same time, Jiang Cheng says, “I’m looking for a new place to stay in.”

#chengxian #mdzs #i write sometimes

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