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guqin-and-flute · 4 years ago

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Are You Here to Stop Me? (Pt. 2)

[First post/Setting of Peony to Lotus]

[Part 1]

(TW for JGY having...JGY thoughts--violence and general bloody nastiness)

Jin Guangyao let himself slowly wander the Hall of Swords, hands clasped behind his back, one thumb worrying at the other as he waited. Waited for what was arriving on gilded swords, probably in force. He was not anxious, so to speak, but filled with the restless energy of a plan in suspension, ready for the next step to land. Alone--and the implications of that solitude sat oddly in his chest.

When Lan Wangji had flown them back through the freezing, torrential skies, they had tracked through the back halls of Koi Tower, avoiding his father, Madam Jin, and their personal servants in search of the Jiang contingent. After they had finally found them in their rooms and sent someone to clean the conspicuous trails of muddy water they had dripped everywhere, he shared what had happened and the plan that had begun its quick flourish into a many branched thing throughout his trip back. Their response had been shocked dismay, quiet panic, and...determination. It had taken startlingly little convincing to get A-Li to agree. Jiang Wanyin had taken longer, waffling about image, about expectations, about politics but, between the two of them, A-Li and Jin Guangyao had broken through his doubt enough for him to grudgingly agree to it.

After that, they had followed his every suggestion, up to and including leaving Lotus Pier to his lone stewardship while A-Li, Jiang Wanyin, and a few top disciples flew to meet up with and protect Wei Wuxian on his mad dash from Lanling to Yunmeng.

“We must still behave naturally--and you would be expected to try to find him,” he had reasoned, more than anything trying to convince A-Li that this was not some sort of strange Jin coup on her home. “If we are too calm, they will suspect a plot. I have the story straight and can cover from there. And it would be odd if you brought me along, considering how new I am to your clan--”

A-Li had laid her hand on his cheek, eyes wide with fear and fierceness. “A-Yao, you don’t have to explain. We trust you to watch our home. Just tell us what we must do.”

That had been...new. It had made it easier to slide around the dissonance this sleight of hand was causing him. Such blatant opposition to his father. It wasn’t that he objected to manipulating him--how else would he have secured a place in the Jin Clan had he not maneuvered himself to be too powerful of an asset to ignore any longer? It was just that, not so long ago, he had been prepared to do anything for the man, anything for his approval, his acceptance. In fact, he had. He had allowed himself to be blatantly discarded and married off almost immediately. It had...tilted him. The sudden shift in priorities, the derailing of his lifelong goal was disorienting to say the least and he was still sorting through the bloody, seething mess of it within himself. Foundations cracked. Absorbing information. Formulating. Deciding.

The still-leaking carnage of him was partially being soothed by the salve of A-Li’s gentleness and the easy acceptance of his presence in Lotus Pier, bit by bit, but….

He had covered A-Li's hand with his own, smiled, and neatly pared off that dissonance like an unwanted branch, tucking it out of sight behind a swell of protective warmth. Anything for her. Anything at all. This was simple enough.

Being trusted with the whole of Lotus Pier was still a different experience. In Lanling, Madam Jin hadn’t even trusted him to carry her tea. Here, the whole of the cove was laid in his hands without so much as a follow up question--the servants and disciples had hardly blinked. The strange weight of such faith did not go unnoticed, hanging from his shoulders like an unfamiliar cloak.

Far away, there came faint voices from the courtyard. Loud voices. Enough rumination. It was time. He needed to focus.

He had slept badly, mind churning with contingencies and when he had awoken, his lungs had been heavy with the cold and wet from their envoy pushing through the night on their swords to reach Lotus Pier with time enough to finalize their plans. It would distract and slow him, if he let it. Not for the first time, he had cursed his lack of spiritual power and ignored it. There would be time for such weakness later. Now, as light, quick steps came down the hall, he needed to be maneuverable.

He left his back to the door so he could jump a little when the servant opened it and poked her head in. “Gongzi? Jin Zixun-gongzi is here to see--” she bit off the tail of an indignant sound when the man himself brushed by her, not waiting for the introduction to be finished.

He was windswept and radiating an ill-contained temper as he slowly circled the room, studying it with deliberate disdain before coming to a stop before him. “Cousin,” Jin Zixun dripped as much malice as was socially ignorable onto the word and Jin Guangyao feigned an involuntary half-step back. “Let’s talk.”

The servant was still hovering by the door, eyes darting between them, her face hard, and Jin Guangyao could see the flashes of listening forms in the hall. The servants liked him, he knew--he had heard them murmur protectively over their new young master, heard whispers of their surprise at how well A-Li and he worked together, how much calmer things had gotten. He gave her a purposefully nervous smile and nodded. “You may go.”

Reluctantly, slowly, she obliged, closing the doors behind her. His obvious discomfort would not let them go far; listening, at the door as servants did. Good.

“So. Where are they?” Jin Zixun took back up his slow circuit of the room, intentionally moving around his back like a circling predator.

Jin Guangyao turned with him as if it made him nervous to have him at his back, face in a stiff and uncertain smile. “They are out looking for Wei-gongzi. He disappeared after the scene he caused at the banquet--”

“The Wen-dogs,” he cut across him irritably. "The ones he stole. Where are they?"

His smile widened uncomfortably, let it show in his voice. “I haven’t any clue. Probably with Wei Wuxian, wherever he is? Like I said, Jiang-furen and Jiang-zong--”

"Shut up," Jin Zixun snapped, wheeling on him. "You think you can talk your way out of what Wei Wuxian did? He killed our overseers and freed our prisoners, acting against our alliance with this backwater clan. We would be well within our rights to...respond."

They both knew that the Jiang Clan was still one of the major 4 after their reconstruction efforts. Jiang Wanyin had done an impressive job for one so young and inexperienced--and such an aggressive move would be seen incredibly unfavourably by both Chifeng-zun and Lan Xichen. It was an empty threat. A stupid one. He widened his eyes anyway. “I’m sure there will be no need to be so hasty--our Clan Leaders can talk, and we can straighten out this misunderstanding.”

He could see Jin Zixun looking him over, curling his lip. Men like him always thought they were smarter than people they deemed ‘lesser than’ and it was incredibly clear that he put Jin Guangyao into that category. There hadn’t been much time for Jin Guangyao to prove himself as an intellectual asset to his father before being married off, hadn’t been able to implement many political workings, and so he was virtually unknown to his cousin beyond ‘upstart bastard interloper’. Jin Guangyao saw the thought process ticking behind his eyes, deciding which tack to take. Saw his eyes narrow and his smile curve sharply predatory. Bully, then.

Alright.

“So they left you in charge while they look for him.”

Jin Guangyao shrugged, a quick jerky thing, looking away. “There wasn’t much I could do on such a search. I haven’t the strength yet to fly my sword and so….” he sighed like he was embarrassed and frustrated. “It’s all such a terrible mess.” Jin Zixun was silent and so he let it rest, let the tension build, let him think he controlled the flow of the conversation.

“And so what’s their excuse for their servant behaving so outrageously?” Jin Zixun finally asked coolly, hands behind his back as he slowly sauntered over to a tall lotus candle holder.

“He wasn’t--” He purposefully winced as Jin Zixun caught the base of it with his foot and, with a little jerk, knocked it over, spilling fast cooling wax all over the rich carpet. “...Supposed to do that.”

“Oops.” The idiot raised an eyebrow at him, as if he had done something clever. Waiting for Jin Guangyao to come over and pick it up.

Slowly, he did, tamping down the irritation in his gut with habitual ease. Such humiliation wasn’t new--and it would enrage the servants, who took pride in a clean home. Straightening the delicate ornamentation around the candle at the top, he turned his apologetic smile back to his cousin. “He just got overzealous--everyone is aware of his temper and how he views things he thinks are unjust. Wen Qing had just asked Jiang-zongzhu to look into the treatment of her people, as a favor to her, now that they’re--” he clamped his mouth shut as if he had misspoke and turned back to the candle, arranging it busily as Jin Zixun slowly tilted his head.

“Now that they’re...what.” My, he did like to think of himself as threatening, didn’t he? Certainly saw himself as the type that could pull off a quiet menace.

Unfortunately for him, Jin Guangyao had seen real menace. All he saw in him was a puffed up gentry brat.

“Married,” he said as if he regretted even mentioning it, threading a grimace through his wince of a smile. “It wasn’t supposed to be announced yet.”

Jin Zixun stared at him, a small, cruel smile of fury curling his lips. “Married. We haven't heard of this union. When exactly are you claiming this happened?”

Helplessly, he shrugged. “It wasn’t final until very recently, apparently--the Jiang, they marry for love when they can, and with the political tensions being so fraught, they wanted to wait until after things died down to announce it. And they thought it to be in poor taste to air such a thing before it was finalized.” He couldn’t resist the subtle dig at his father, parading A-Li around for so many years as a bauble for the future, only to be discarded. “But surely...surely it’s understandable for Wen-furen to want her family safe. It’s been months since the end of the War. Wei-gongzi was trying to be filial but overreacted….”

Jin Zixun smiled wide under rage filled eyes, slowly approaching and nodding, until he came within arms reach; then he all at once hauled him close by his collar, hissing, “You seem to think I'm an idiot.”

Jin Guangyao let his face fall into one of startled fear, shrinking in his grip. He indeed did think he was an idiot--but not an entirely stupid one, more’s the pity. The beauty of this excuse was that the Jin didn't need to actually believe it--no one truly did. The Jiang just needed enough plausible deniability to make an outright retaliation disadvantageous and protect the Wen remnants from future attack. He angled his voice to pleading. “This is all I know, Zixun, they don’t...they don’t confide in me for things like this.”

Jin Zixun gave a snort, shoving him away and off balance. Jin Guangyao’s hand itched to tug his robe back into place, but he simply patted at it ineffectually, as if anxious, keeping his head down. Let him see what he wished to see.

“At least they have sense enough not to trust you. Looks like you’re not fooling anyone, you snake; except maybe yourself. Did you know that Jin-zongzhu speaks of being rid of you often?”

Ah. So they were here already. Despite the curdling, vicious darkness that stirred in him, Jin Guangyao could have snorted. What an unpolitic moron. Spilling his Clan Leader’s private conversations for the chance to get a cheap jab. Perhaps it was true--it very well could be. But his father was still riding on the low profile waves of alliance this marital eviction had gotten him. Had Jin Guangyao not already been aware of the reason for his being married out, had he been pettier (and he how he sometimes yearned to be--but no, it was unwise to squander a pressure point so readily) this could have seriously damaged the relationship between the two clans. Having it known that he had given his treasured allies the dregs.

“He was right to get rid of you when he did,” Jin Zixun was continuing, turning back to wander again through the room. “Clearing the trash from the Clan. I hope you're not getting ideas above your station, here. I know they put up with more, but you should always remember what you are.” He turned around, lips curled into a smug smile. “Bastard. Son of a whore. The reject.”

It was difficult to know whether this was Jin Zixun’s attempt to strategically goad him as an interrogation technique or if it was simply venting his frustration--probably both.

And it was working, to a point. There bloomed a bright star point of rage behind his breastbone as the words pounded through him like poison, squeezing the breath from him and he forced himself not to smile in defense; he was supposed to be cowed by this, this was supposed to hurt. He swallowed and let his mouth tighten as his chin tucked in shame and imagined digging his thumbs into Jin Zixun’s eyes like so much overripe fruit. Bursting.

When Jin Guangyao remained silent, his cousin’s face twisted at his lack of reaction, before hiking back up into a sneer of a smile. “But that’s alright, because you two seem to make a perfect pair--the leftovers together.”

Something incredibly dark shifted within him and turned its attention to this conversation.

“Don’t.”

It left his mouth on a breath, a spark from the flint striking in his chest without design. He managed to dart his gaze to the ground before Zixun could see the flame of it within him.

“What did you say?” Jin Zixun rounded on him, close again, smile small and cruel, eyes gleaming with the prospect of a weak link. So it was calculated provocation, then. Searching for an excuse for violence and offense. Even more dangerous. He sank the nails into his palm.

It was possibly one of the hardest things he had done to speak evenly when the small dagger he had hidden at the small of his back seared into his skin, pulsing like an eager creature’s heart, calling to his hand. “Don’t talk about Jiang-furen in that manner….Please.”

Any other circumstance, and he could have protested--would even be justified as a husband to come to blows over such a thing. But there was a plan. And it was hard to seem weak and unthreatening in the midst of murder.

All Jin Guangyao needed him to do was leave. Take this filtered information back to his father. Tell him of the web of complications woven against them, Jin Guangyao’s manufactured outsider status in the Jiang’s--an open avenue for false information, exploitation.

All he wanted him to do was leave.

“Aww.” Blunt fingers suddenly sank into his jaw, forcing his chin up, trying to meet his gaze. He allowed the wince, squeezed his eyes shut because he knew his own limits--he knew where this is heading. He knew what he could and could not keep from his eyes. “Is the little whoreson actually in love with his pity-wife? The little wannabe-noble getting ideas above his station? You know the only reason you were paired with her, little filth, is because no one else wanted her, right?”

There was an approaching ringing in his ears, the tide of blood pounding louder and louder. Fire and water, drowning and devouring. His breath seared. Focus on the outcome. Focus on the fact that the servants are hearing this. The repercussions. The plan. Wei Wuxian. A-Li. It’s for her. Focus.

Focus.

“She’s a boring, talentless cow with the weakest golden core I’ve ever seen--”

Distantly, he was almost grateful for the throb coursing through him, that shook him in Jin Zixun’s grasp like a fish on a line, for it muffled his words to almost unintelligible garble, had him sinking his fingers into the bracer at the wrist of Jin Zixun’s imprisoning arm, as if he wanted to escape, as if he was afraid.

He did not want to escape. He was not afraid.

His palms prickled with emptiness, begging to be filled with a throat, a hilt, a heart. Soon, his own blood-heavy organ whispered from the crush of his chest, soon. “Stop,” he whispered, voice pressed thin by the weight of his rage.

“Or what?” Jin Zixun taunted, voice muffled, coming to him as if through water.

Or I will ruin the carpet of the Hall of Swords. Or I will lose my grip on this careful mask. Or I will have a blade through your gut faster than you can die and I will watch you writhe and shit yourself to death in far too short a time. And then I will have to find a way to make this work without you. Which would be tedious, difficult. Dangerous.

Almost worth it.

It’s for her.

Soon.

“I don’t know anything more, Zixun. You need...to leave.”

“Are you going to make me?”

It would be so easy to dart his head to the side and sink his teeth deep into his knuckles, to go for his throat. Slide the dagger neatly through his eye and into his brain. Like a keyhole unlocking such possibilities as blessed fucking silence.

Clearly disgusted with his lack of response, Jin Zixun shoved him away from him with a snarl. Jin Guangyao caught himself on a pillar and stayed pressed there, head down, hair fall masking his expression, feathering over the pulsing bands left on his jaw.

“I should have known it was useless to talk to you.”

Jin Guangyao stayed motionless as the doors slammed behind him, as Jin Zixun’s footsteps retreated. As the side doors flew open and the servants and the disciples they had clearly summoned rushed to his side, the exclamations of their indignant anger washing over him in shallow waves. Hands patted his robe, gripped his shoulder, raised his chin carefully and he managed to analyze his own expression, reassuring himself of its blankness. It would have to do. They might take it as stunned.

“--bastard! That--that--! I can’t believe he said that about Jiang-furen! I’ll skin him alive!”

“--alright? You’re so pale--”

“I always knew the Jin were pompous and selfish, but this is too much! To come here and say this in the heart of Lotus Pier--to Jiang-furen’s own husband, of all people!”

“The gall! That piece of shit!”

“Jin-gongzi, talk to us, are you alright?”

It took him a few breaths to be able to look up, to regain his voice, and when he did, he made no effort to steady it. “I am. I’m fine. We need--we need to prepare for Wei-gongzi’s arrival.”

There came more sympathetic hisses, more fretful tugs of his clothes--he knew from experience that it was nearly impossible to tell the difference between a voice shaking from fear and a voice shaking from barely suppressed savagery, if one's face was arranged correctly. His was. He made sure of it.

The tightness of his rage-lit chest did not abate when he went to the front courtyard to bow off the small glittering retinue of JIn, where he was, of course, ignored. Watching their receding backs as the clouds swallowed them up, he let his face drop entirely for a moment with only the ornately carved door ahead of him. Let his eyes burn.

When he turned around, he offered the crowd behind him a harried smile. “We should probably send a few of Yunmeng’s delicacies after them. As an apology for the imposition of their journey.”

This sparked muttered suggestions of what bodily fluids might be able to be included and what species’ feces could be hidden most easily behind heavy spices. “I could kill him for what he said about Jiang-furen,” one of the shimei’s said, eyes blazing.

Oh, Jin Guangyao did not say, shuttering his eyes as if regretful. You needn’t bother.

Soon.

Back in their room, in front of A-Li’s round, polished mirror, he impassively considered the bruises on his jaw, the heat in his gut at a low, murderous simmer. He would have preferred a black eye, but perhaps less was more, in this case--more subtlety meant more double takes, more chances for curious ‘what ifs’. The story was bound to evolve anyhow, to become more fantastical as the enraged servants gossiped with their friends, their waiters, their fruit vendors.

The noble Jiang, marrying for a love forbidden, taking beleaguered, harmless Cultivators under their wing and being threatened for it. Those villainous Jin, demanding back their spoils of war, treating Jiang-furen’s new husband as if he were still a common Jin servant. The indignity of it, the insult. Just like those star crossed tragedies. The Young Masters and Mistress of Lotus Pier were already folk heroes in the eyes of the common people--rising from the ashes of their slaughtered family to build anew, kind and just. This all would appeal greatly.

Ever loyal, the people would probably find a way to alert them if any Jin lurkers were to show up. Ingratiation of the Wen, alienation of the Jin, deification of the Jiang. Truly, this couldn’t have gone better.

There would be a more formal--not to mention informed--meeting later, involving Jiang Wanyin, Jin Guanshan, and possibly Wei Wuxian himself. This was probably supposed to have been a precursor to that, a scouting mission meant to gather information, meant to be secretive and unnoticed. What a pity.

His smile stretched thin and sharp at his own metallic reflection. His chest was still tight and full, and his fingertips still ached for the rust of someone’s pain, but he simply straightened his robes, slowly and deliberately. Time to prepare for their guests.

And figure out how slowly he wanted Jin Zixun to die.

#[Sings Zixun's Gotta Die to the tune of Earl's Gotta Die]#Peony to Lotus #my fic #my stuff #text

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twitchesandstitches · 5 years ago

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Story commission for Clonecomando, who asked for Arcee from Transformers Prime turning into a super busty giantess alongside Airachnid!

--------

The moon, as far as they knew, had no name. Arcee knew well that so much had been lost in the war for Cybertron and its fall, the senseless destruction waged by the Decepticons wiping out eons of hard-won knowledge, history and cultural memory.

In the years since the end of the war, the rebirth of Cybertron and the reunion of all the scattered Autobots, figuring out what they actually had at hand was the important thing, and normally a moon would be fairly low on that list, save that over the past few months it had been sending out stronger power signatures, nearly blacking out some of the orbital scanners, and when Arcee had asked permission to investigate and bring Jack with her as part of his training, Optimus (nearly bedridden after the strain he suffered reactivating the Allspark) had agreed.

Arcee was mildly surprised to find that the moon had an atmosphere, its metal surface of the same biomechanical form as Cybertron, and as far as they could tell, uninhabited. At least, there were no visible dwelling signs, and no buildings or evidence of survivors holding up here, like in some of the cities that had been protected by Sub-Commander Grimlock during the exodus.

Nevertheless, as she and Jack approached a strangely artificial site, she felt watched, and remained on high alert.

(And, in the distance, they were watched.

The great hulking masses of Insecticon hive-soldiers waited beneath the metal soil. Templated descendants of the Bombshell, the Hardshell, and the Kickback - most of them, Hardshell kin, but Bombshells vlew and Kickbacks waited to spring into action - lurked in the shadows, shying away from the light.

Most of them, particularly those who had been most recently supped upon by the Mistress, were burned by the light. It seared hot, piercing through their frames and their altered Sparks screaming at its touch. Fear moved in their fuel lines now, need and desire subordinating all higher impulses save the voice of the Mistress.

She was the hive queen, and her will shaped them, gave them purpose, protected them from the terror.

Her thoughts moved through them, and she flew above them in the shape of a flying vehicle from a distant world; a long, bulky thing with a rotating saw crowning it. They felt her curiosity, and she saw through their eyes as her rival, and her rival’s prized subordinate, came upon a strange ruin. They spoke to each other for a time, about this evidence of habitation, and that it was old indeed. The Mistress had said as much in the past.

And the Mistress watched, and she waited. Here, her thoughts said to the hive, was her own way into its secrets, at last.

The blue Autobot placed her hand upon the wall, and it seemed to her surprise as much as anyone’s, a wall slid away and revealed a passageway.

Into it, the two went. The Insecticons waited obediently as the Mistress radiated curiosity and interest as she followed, crawling along the walls like the predator she was. The hive obeyed her commands, and retreated. And alone, she followed after her prey into the dark.)

-----

Arcee led the way down the ancient steps. More accurately, she grabbed the hand of the mech Jack operated to stay on her level and she dragged him behind her, the stumpy legs of his mech waddling fast to keep up with her. Eventually, she slowed her pace, mostly because he kept getting pulled up.

His mech was not significantly smaller than hers; modeled after the armor Starscream and then Miko had employed, though not quite as refined as the work of the legendary Solus Prime, it was a squat and bulky thing, though still slimmer even than Arcee. That said a lot; duowheel platforms like her didn’t have much body mass in relation to their size. But she was far stronger than she looked, and Jack’s mech paled compared to her brief bursts of armor-shredding power.

She paused, her struts clacking on the ground. Her head turned, blue optics peering through the canopy towards Jack, who was looking a little overwhelmed. Her face clicked into a softer look, and she lowered him to the ground. “Take the time you need,” she said, and waited.

When he was ready, they set off again, and Arcee had a hard time resisting the urge to just take hold of his hand and escort him. It had been years since he’d become a fully grown man, as the humans reckoned such things, and though he was certainly competent and capable, he was just so… small. And Arcee was well past the point of ‘just’ being attached.

Deeming an alien one’s conjunx endura, the most intimate and close of Iaconian romantic ideas, was certainly atypical, but not unheard of. It was just rare for Autobots to settle down anywhere to get close to an alien. And for Arcee, a partner was as close as it got.

They descended down, into the ruin, and Arcee had already suggested that it was much older than any potential resident might have been. Soon it became clear, as they descended down, that this was a temple of some sort. Arcee supposed it was, at least; the elaborate carvings, the deep hieroglyphs shimmering faintly in the walls, the strange angles in the walls spoke to old sacred geometries of Cybertronian worship. Or then again, perhaps this had been a storage facility. She recognized some of those hieroglyphs from Iaconian Energon reservoirs, and supposed this might have been such a place.

But it was old. Glyphs like the ones carved into the walls had not been actively used for many thousands of years since before any modern Cybertron city-realm even existed in a recognizable form. Their languages changed only slowly, but even so Arcee found these glyphs so hard to read, so distant from her own languages, that it was mildly disorienting.

Jack looked at them, pausing to study them. Arcee waited beside him, doing her best to look stoic and cool and not at all miffed that he was doing a better job of translating them than she did. “I think this bit kind of looks like the old Iaconian High Pentamatrix glyph for ‘god’,” he said, looking pained. It must have been a very rough translation, then; his studies into Cybertronian language were progressing well, better than her own had during her brief and terminal attempts to work with linguistics. “But it’s, I don’t know. Weird. Some bits of it look like they’re representing sounds, not a given idea. Or, um. Does Cybertron have things like, sign posts?”

“Sign posts?” Arcee repeated.

“Yeah. You know, images where you see it and you instantly know what it means without context? Like a sign post that says ‘danger!’ on earth. I know what that would mean, even if it had nothing on it.”

Arcee rolled her optics. “Course we have those, Jack. Memetic information and ideas aren’t exclusive to humans.”

“Right, I know. I thought I’d be sure, first. Didn’t want to just assume and us get hurt over it.” He frowned, his mouth moving as he extended his mech’s hand over the glyphs. “I can see hints of something that looks a bit like the Iaconian glyphs for ‘fast food’, but that can’t be right. And this bit here, it looks like old Simfurian Claw-Scratch. I don’t have the right words to explain what they sound like, but it sort of looks like its suggesting… danger? No, its more like… cautioun. Like a ‘careful where you step’ sign?” He shook his head. “You sure this is a temple?”

Arcee glanced up and pointed. Right above them were two small statues mounted into the wall: the more monstrous of the two was a grotesque thing, almost like a robotic centaur but with a strong dragonish air. The lower half was a low-slung beast, paws tipped with claws and a long tail curled around it calmly. From the waist up, the statue was more humanoid but barely so, too broad and armored to read as anything but a monster. Multiple arms were crossed over a body that some ancient sculptor had endeavored to suggest was both mech and femme-aligned, and the triangular head was that of a beast. And yet, for its monstrosity, it emanated wisdom and serenity; its many eyes were closed, its great jaws held primly shut in an expression of sage calmness.

Across it was a statue more recognizable; it was indisputably a fembot. Definitely a fembot; the sculptor had made that very clear. Energon tanks swelled out from the chestplates to unreal extremes, the hips were impossibly massive, and Jack seemed unable to look directly at its curves without getting embarrassed. The statue’s head had been carved to look as much flame as it was metal, and her expression was a wild, fierce joy. ‘Maniacal’ might have been a good word, too.

“Onyx Prime,” Arcee said of the bestial shape. “And Solus Prime,” she said, pointing to the curvy one. “Two of the original thirteen Primes. Optimus’ predecessors, you could say. They were worshiped as gods in ancient times, and you won’t find statues of them in just any facility.”

“Why build a temple on the moon?” Jack wondered.

“...Good question. That’s usually something you do to keep it secure.”

They began to go down the stairs again. Arcee noticed that they were strangely shaped, with multiple sizes and shapes for someone to ascend. There was a set just the right size for them to go down, bisected by an even smaller set perhaps for minicons. And besides them were increasingly bigger stairs, for ‘bots in Optimus’ size range, and then Grimlock’s… and then who knew? Perhaps the likes of Omega Supreme.

Arcee did not notice that the walls themselves, towering as they were, swelled up even bigger than that. Those were also stairs, for something as big as Metroplex. Or larger still.

Down they went, and behind them someone followed. Someone very much like a spider.

-----

Downwards they went, and the stairways looped in a loose spiral, in a fairly linear path without additional branches or chambers. This ruin led somewhere specific, and Arcee suspected its purpose was not purely spiritual.

The strange arrangement of steps they’d noticed continued, all the way down, and though there were no more ancient lighting arrangements, it was still brightly illuminated. Cracks webbed up and down the wall in a surprisingly harmonious arrangement.

As they went down, further, they came to an raised platform the glowing cracks encircled like a directional sign. When they stepped on it, it creaked faintly, with the sound of mechanisms around them that sounded like an old calculating engine going to work. Something clicked, and the platform slid away, and descended on down.

“Whoa!” Jack yelped. “Did we just hit a trap?!”

“No, no!” Arcee patted the dome-shaped seal over his seating. “It’s just an elevator.”

Down they went. Jack stared blankly. “...An elevator.”

“Yes. What’s weird about us having elevators?”

“...Arcee, I’m who-knows how many lightyears away from Earth, on a planet that had a thriving civization millions of years when the dinosaurs were still alive. You guys having something as mundane as fricking ELEVATORS is a little weird, okay!?”

“Fair enough, but guess how I felt when I saw that your planet had created vehicles that were an absolutely perfect match for our natural alternate forms. I’m just saying that the freaky feelings go both ways, you know.”

In this manner, they idly talked the nervousness away, aware of a dim glassy substance around them. A tube, perhaps, the means of conveying them downwards, and they could see outwards.

For whatever that was worth; the elevator moved surprisingly fast, nothing but dark groundmetal visible, and they were descending many miles every second, a trick of pressure keeping this from having any adverse effect on them. (Not that Transformers needed to worry about that kind of thing, but it was still a concern for Jack. Arcee kept glancing at him, concerned.) Jack kept close to her, extremely embarrassed by his mech acting on his true desires by clinging fearfully to Arcee’s leg. She put a hand on top of his pilot seat, comfortingly, as they came to a stop.

The illumination had grown brighter, and as they stepped out, more complex. Dimly, her optics took note of a vast expanse around them, a faintly lit horizon outlined into an outward curve. A great dome extending in every direction, as far as they could see. They stood on an island of sorts, and around them was a vast lake, shining a faint pink against an oilly surface, meeting the distant wall. The lights became more regular, shaped into hieroglyphs, and stretched across the entire chamber so that it illuminated the distant curving horizon. Jack squinted as they stepped onto a raised podium, perhaps an altar, and Arcee patted him briefly. “Ease up, Jack. Not gonna ask for a translation. You’d need binoculars or something first. Besides, I think I got a pretty good idea of where we are now.”

“You do? THat’s more than I got.” With every sign of reluctance, he parted from Arcee, and she found him missing his close proximity with a surprising intensity. He looked up, towards a distant ceiling, and a faintly visible tube they had apparently moved down through. The entrance above looked like a tiny hole, just barely lighted. “How far down are we!?”

“If I had to guess? Probably in the center of the moon.” She tilted her head. Judging from the religious iconography…” She pointed at the altar, which extended for a considerable distance, as if some very big things were expected to sit there. In the distance, she saw a large tower, and it looked old; ancient carved lines flowed with pink light, and set into the very top of it was a large crystal. “Yep. See the little statue things on ‘em? Kind of look a bit like the Predacons? Denizens of ancient Simfur. And, let’s see what else we have here.”

She shone a light, and took a step back in shock as liquid power shifted welcomingly in front of her. Blackness gleamed, somehow bright, and pink glimmer shone like solar flares. The liquid flowed, frosted steam rising up, heavy crystals slowly rising up here and there in places where it was thickened into a solid mass. And far, she saw the pink and black mass gushing out of the walls, being made by some mysterious internal processes, and she saw the hints of ancient machinery about her and in the walls.

The crackle of electricity fell over her, the taste of power was bright, and she at last understood. “Oh,” she said softly.

Jack took a sharp intake of breath. “Is that… energon?!”

The blessed life blood of their people, the fuel that kept them alive, that kept them immortal over the ages, and the rarest substance in the known universe. And here was an entire lake of it, being made on the spot. “Yeah,” Arcee said, numbly. “But I’ve never seen this kind before. And, okay. I get it. This moon. I think, I think the ancients hollowed it out and built something in it. This was a, an energon production facility! And it came online not too long ago…”

She felt woozy, a bit distant, and she felt very hungry indeed.

Jack gave her a concerned look. She put a hand on him, steadying herself. She thought weakly of too many eons of going hungry, of rust growing in painful patches and bits of her aching. “Why’s it black? And pink?”

“Energon used to come in different varieties. Aspected to the different original Primes; the kind you’re used to is attuned to Prima, the first of the Thirteen. Pink probably means something to do with Solus Prime, and black…”

“That’d be Megatronus, right? The one that betrayed the rest.”

Arcee gave him an unamused look. “Don’t think your color expectations apply here, Jack. Black means Onyx Prime. Red used to be for Megatronus.”

“Sorry.”

Arcee bent down. “Well, this would explain the power readings; there’s a damn lake of Energon being made down here, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop any time soon. We absolutely… uh…” She put a hand to her forehead. Her vision flickered. Arcee wasn’t aware of it, but just for a moment, her optics glowed bright pink. And above them, something spidery was patiently crawling down.

Thoughts of what they absolutely should do went out of Arcee’s head. Her processor pounded; lightning moved in her, a feeling of lightness was making it hard to stand. She stumbled, her exoframe shifting. She felt… not itchy. She felt hot, cold. Both at the same time, and with an irrepressible feeling that was intolerable. It was like firing up a transformation cycle and then holding it, until it hurt…

Something was sinking into her, fusing, and gently reconfiguring her, and it was then she realized it.

Energon radiation. Like transwarp mutation. Just being near this stuff was changing her! And non-Primian Energon, like Dark Energon, could do things to you.

Just for a moment, she looked up, at the crystal alighting the tower, and she felt the power flowing from it. That was no Energon crystal. It was something… older. Something power, as ancient and mighty as the Star Saber had been, or the Forge of Solus.

Even as her fuel lines blazed with a sudden and ferocious pleasure, Arcee shouted, “Jack! Get back!”

He complied, scuttling back all the way to the elevator, unaware of the shadow crawling closer from above the both of them; he was too fixed on Arcee, his eyes wide and afraid. She stumbled forward, her optics wide, glowing pink… and then, so did the rest of her.

For a moment, Arcee’s slim frame turned a glossy black. Not for long, and Jack had to admit it didn’t look ominous like the purple of Dark Energon, and then her usual colors asserted themselves.

Then her frame began to shift, and grow bigger. As soon as her colors appeared, Arcee began to grow larger, slowly swelling up bigger than Bumblebee was. She kept growing, and swelled up even taller than that, soon reaching the height of the likes of Knockout or some of the bigger Vehicons.

And her body shape was changing. She was getting… not muscular, given how Autobots were built, but she was getting broader. Her torso was expanding notably outwards, her waist a bit moreso, and her hips sprouting outwards.

She kept getting bigger, her proportions growing so fiercely she looked as proportionately beefy as Optimus was. And her thighs expanded outwards, with such ferocity that a better word might be exploded. They plumped up and grew, and grew and just kept growing, her armor fusing into a malleable and less rigid form to absorb attacks; her servo musculature swelled into place beneath it, even as her thighs got bigger than her torso and her waist!

And then, the swell where her hip-joints met her waist plate grew, Energon collecting there and producing new mechanisms and growing them to immense size; two enormous swells, plated in more deflect metal and the jet black of her undercoating, grew into a gargantuan backside; Arcee hissed, an undercurrent of pleasure as it bloomed outwards, her body creaking as her plating adjusted to a butt projecting outwards like a shelf, or an ant-insecticon’s abdomen.

Pink and black flashed around her body as her butt kept growing bigger, pumping in more mass, flashes of light shining around her. She tottered forward, more extreme heel struts forcing her stance into something awkward as she struggled to compensate, and it was harder to walk; she was getting taller, growing upwards too, and the gradual changes to her size were shifting her balance almost as badly as her new assets. Her energon tanks began to grow, wobbling larger with each step, hanging off and providing heavy weights, dense Energon settling into them and making them grow faster.

But not as fast as Arcee herself was growing. Her shoulders were broader, her overall body significantly more amazonian, and her hips nearly as wide as she was tall. And she was growing upwards faster than all of that anyway; her legs lengthened, heel struts stabilized into ultra high heels, her thighs clamping together as she wavered in place, and she shot up twenty feet all at once. Arcee yelled, her head dizzy with a surge of power and a delighted thrill, and flailed her arms, trying not to fall over even as she grew taller than even Optimus was. She got bigger, she kept growing upwards. Another fifteen feet, with no signs of stopping.

And another twenty after that, and then another; she was more than twice the size of even the likes of Grimlock, the single biggest bruiser in all the Autobot ranks short of the likes of Omega Supreme, and she was still growing upwards, shooting towards the ceiling.

It felt so right; the Energon burned bright in her, her entire body felt filled with a sweet flame, and though she was aware of changes in her mind, certain inhibitions falling away, she didn’t mind. The straightforwad nature of Onyx Prime, and the wild mania of Solus Prime touched her, influencing her, and she liked it. She certainly didn’t mind as her energon tanks expanded, tripling in size with a single wobbling flux. Her torso plating was completely absorbed, energon tanks totally fluid and wubbling and pure black, now descending somewhere around her waist and projecting out nearly half her total length. And they were still growing, swelling outwards, filling with more energon. They fizzled, gleaming from within so that a pink light was visible within them, and she felt more mass being generated and pouring into her tanks, making them bigger.

And on the ground level, Jack gaped in shock as Arcee kept growing, a true giantess even among the Autobots. Her high heel-shaped feet clattered forward, her entire body jiggling in a way he wouldn’t have thought an alien robot could. She was still growing, her exoskeletal armor fused into a squishy and soft hull like metallic latex, and he couldn’t help but think that she looked kinda beefy. Her shoulders were wider, her waist was tiny, but her limbs were much thicker than before, her thighs dominating his view, and her butt was swelling out so much she was toppling forward. Her butt was almost bigger than she was by now, two hge hills swelling up and gradually forcing her downwards, and her breasts (possibly not the right word, he knew, but damn they were so big) slamming into the ground, now absolutely bigger than Arcee herself, so that Arcee was sinking into them with every sign of pleasure.

She kicked a leg up, groaning softly. Arcee turned her head around, her optics glowing pink. “Jaa-aack,” she sang softly, a whirring noise as she focused for him. “Where are you? Where are you!?” She reached for him, pinned by her breasts. “Come here…! Now!”

Jack timidly stepped forward. Something in her voice sounded… different. He wasn’t sure he trusted this raw, wild intensity. It felt like something had been scraped off her.

Before he could get too far, though, something swooped down, and perched on Arcee.

Arcee turned as Jack recoiled in horror at this familiar threat. Arcee’s stupified self-satisfaction faded as she recognized her old foe: “Airachnid!” She shouted.

On the left swell of Arcee’s backside, there stood Arcee’s oldest tormentor and nemesis, Airachnid herself. A tall and fearsome Decepticon, built on broadly the same lines as Arcee, she was nonetheless a spider-type Insecticon, a rare hive queen. Her body had the plated, spiky look common to the Inecticons, and her rear dominated by a heavy spider abdomen (not dissimilar from Arcee’s new backside, in fact). Where Arcee was blue and black with a hint of pink, Airachnid was purple, black and deathly grey.

And something else was… different about her. Besides her dancing up and doing trying to avoid sinking into Arcee’s super soft mega butt, that is. That rather spoiled the intimidating effect.

Arcee swatted at her, while Jack rushed over in a very bad attempt to fight her. Unfortunately, Arcee’s butt was simply too large for her to reach, and her arm smacked off her own endowment. Arcee maneuvered her leg into Jack’s way, and a wall of metal cut off his route. Airachnid laughed. “As I thought! You could open the way into this place, with all its treasures, and all its power! And at last, here you are… so helpless.”

Arcee squinted. “Say what you want, little bug,” she said, her voice smoother than normal, and with a sudden pleasurable awareness of how… puny Airachnid was. “You’re looking pathetic now. Come here, so I can crush you!”

Arcee’s arm transformed into weapon mode; instead of the slim pistol-grade shooter, it swelled up into a ridiculously massive cannon. She blinked, shrugged, and aimed.

Airachnid bounded away as a wall-annihilating flood of pink-black force almost obliterated her. “Perhaps I have bitten off more than I can chew. But then again…” She grinned, and her face split open. Long fangs extended, and a horrific feeding tendril extended. “What an interesting idea!”

“Arcee!” Jack shouted from below. “Get her off you, now! She’s a Terrorcon! She’s a decepticon vampire!”

“She what!?” Arcee felt a sudden pinch on her butt. “Ow!”

Airachnid bit deep… and as luck would have it, it was basically like a mosquito biting Arcee. She was too small, and Arcee too large, and even as she drank her fill, the lost fraction was too small for Arcee to even notice.

There was a brief pause as Airachnid bloated up, filled to maximum capacity by even this small sample, and rolled right off her backside. As she fell, towards the Energon, she was visibly growing curvier in the same way as Arcee, and doubling in size in even the brief moment between the fall-

And the splash, into the energon. She was heavy enough now to crack through the frozen layer.

Arcee paused. Rubbing the small bump on her backside, she frowned, her lips notably plumper than before. “This seems like a, a bad thing to me.”

“You think!?” Jack yelled.

Arcee paused, noticing him. “Ah. THERE you are~!” She reached towards him.

And at this point, interrupting her attempts to be cuddly again, something arose from the energon. Something… big.

Mostly they saw two very big somethings, wobbling and bouncing in place right in front of them, and rising up towards the ceiling. There was a lot of purple, and a brief sight of exoskeletal armor fusing and morphing into a new shiny form. A broad waist like the side of a mountain, broader than Arcee’s curves, hips dominating everything in front of them. The splash of a monstrously huge metal butt growing so fast it slammed into the energy and made tidal waves, and more splashes as gargantuan breasts swelled up as much as Arcee’s head, hitting the Energon…

Arcee looked up, and up, and up to see Airachnid towering over her, growing even faster than she had, as large as a Metrotitan and still growing bigger.

Airachnid laughed like a noblewoman, her horns glinting as she tilted her head back. “Oh, oh, this is just perfect! You do the hard work to come in here, and I am the one who reaps the most benefits!” As she spoke, she was visibly growing up towards the ceiling, and her horns rammed into them, her breasts and backside competing to fill up as much space as possible. Arcee squeaked as purple metal squashed into her.

Airachnid pressed forward, submerging her in squishy metal, and still laughing, let herself keep growing into the ceiling. She kept growing, soaring upwards, more metal fembot body filling up as much as space as possible, and her optics fixed on something; she bent down and plucked the ancient device Arcee had observed earlier, right off the grand podium at the very center of the chamber. It was a small thing; a crystal of the deepest and brightest light, like a piece of the sun made solid and safe. Black and pink laced around it, infused into it, and clearly it powered the whole facility, for as soon as Airachnid took it away, the room became dark. The hieroglyphs, speaking their mysterious wisdom and words of the ancients, became dim, and then all was dark.

All, but for the pink glow of the Energon. It grew fainter as Airachnid’s body continued to absorb it, fueling her growth. By now, she must have been over a mile tall, and she was still growing. Her butt was now so large as to be nearly a separate thing from the rest of her body, rising as high as her elbows and low as her mid thighs, her whole form monstrously curvy. Spidery limbs extended, growing larger, and all manner of kibble materialized on her body, suggesting far more than just one possible alternate form. This was evolution, ascension beyond the limits of modern Transformers.

She peered at the crystal. “Interesting,” she said, after a moment. “A relic of Solus’ own work, I would imagine. And some of the handiwork of Onyx too. And married to energon harvested from the very heart of Primus, to amplify the effects of their creation. Making Energon to uplift… no, transform and upgrade us. Supercharging, in fact. Oh, if only it had been active during the war… then I could have crushed that short-sighted maniac and taken over in a snap!” She snapped her claws for emphasis, and the shockwave tore vast chunks out of the walls, and knocked Arcee all the way to the other side of the chamber, in an instant; she made an ultra curvy impact crater, and slipped into the Energon.

“Arcee!” Jack turned to her, freezing and unable to decide; run and hide, like Arcee would want, or figure out something to do. Anything at all! And then, the sky went dark, and huge metal claws closed around him. “Ah. Arcee’s little beloved. What fun,” Airachnid said smugly. She pressed Jack into her cleavage, a small hatch appearing to receive him and then locking him away, vanishing him into her body. She then considered the artifact.

Will was usually the answer. She concentrated upon it, letting herself be a vessel for its power, and it wanted to flow. It’s boundless essence flowed into her, and it was important to know that the Energon it had made… that was not the limits of its power. That was what the grand mechanism around them had been built to do, transfer its power into a consumable form. Airachnid received, instead, the full and unbound force of it.

She gasped, almost indecently, and her curves surged, fluxing several sizes bigger, and then she grew upwards, soaring towards the ceiling. Arcee emerged from the Energon, to see Airachnid growing thousands of feet in seconds, almost instantly filling up the entire facility, her monstrous breasts slamming into the rooms, an oppressive weight above them, and she was still growing bigger-

There was light, and the ceiling cracked. It fought against the weight of Airachnid’s body, and soon lost as her strength was boosted as much as her size, and with a vague thrust of her shoulders, she smashed right through solid metal, and kept growing upwards. Almost instantly, Airachnid’s head disappeared into the gap, then her shoulders. Her breasts, low-slung and projecting out as much as they did, carved out even more, and then so did her backside as she grew so much her hips soared through the ceiling. Her thighs grew; she had to be over five miles tall by now, and her thighs alone filled the whole room, slamming Arcee into the walls.

And, at last, the pressure was gone, as Airachnid broke through the surface of the moon and hauled herself up, on pure reflex.

As silence fell, Arcee felt a brief surge of relief, the sheer terror of Airachnid being so big fading away. Then, a fresh terror came to her. Airachnid had been here the whole time, she was loose. She was larger than a Metrotitan, she was supercharged by a Primal relic. And then:

She had Jack.

Arcee, with a lot of effort, forced herself to crawl forwards. The Energon’s surface had been cracked, and she sank into the liquid depths. It swam and coursed around her, caressing her every expanded inch, and she barely felt the thrill of it being absorbed into her metal body, or that several tons of Energon were being sucked into her every second.

It had a purpose, and it wanted to fulfill that purpose. Here was Arcee, as suitable a host as any.

But all she could think of was Jack; her partner, her beloved. She was responsible for him, she wanted him, she needed him safe, it was her fault he was there. Her enemy had him, and he was totally in her power, and she couldn’t let him be hurt. She forced herself forward, with no clear idea of what she could possibly do; she yelled in frustration, and again, she raised her arm, and willed it into weapon form.

Out came the cannon. She aimed it upwards, towards a vast purple mass that looked suitably jiggly, and she fired. The resulting beam of power would have made Megatron’s fusion cannon look puny, and it could have one-shotted the Nemesis at the height of its power.

Airachnid didn’t really even notice the blast, but she did feel a sting. Dazed by euphoric pleasures, and the enticement of her own growing body, the shock of the sting was enough for her grip to loosen, and the artifact fell out of her hand.

Arcee saw it’s shining light fall, and drop into the waters. She grunted, her body reconfiguring into an alternate form; a long and low slung vehicle, with as much resemblance to a two-wheeler form as a tyrannosaur bore to a sparrow; it was TECHNICALLY the same thing, but the details were notable. Not even pausing to wonder why her alt mode had changed, she revved into the waters.

The Energon soon vanished, poured into the ideal vessel that was Arcee’s body. The entire chamber was totally dry.

And then she grabbed the artifact, and her drive to beat Airachnid was all the way in it needed.

Very, very quickly, Arcee found the ceiling getting rather closer.

--------

On top of the surface, the Insecticon hordes bowed to their queen, as she stood to her full size.

By now her size had stabilized, and there was a gaping hole in the moon where her body had torn its way through, big enough for a hyper curvy fembot now standing one hundred miles tall; she was so large, her body extended well into space off the moon, and she was plainly visible to the Autobots on Cybertron. Indifferent to what threats might come her way, she laughed softly, delighting in the feeling of power radiating in her.

She felt as though she were a goddess; every movement could break a continent, her exhalations raise a hurricane. The power coursing in her satisfied even the ravenous hunger of a Terrorcon; for the first time since her transformation, she felt satisfied.

“Come, my children,” she said sweetly, a sudden burst of generosity in her. That felt odd, and for a moment, she felt somewhat concerned. But then it was soon gone; the urge to not think at all, to simply do as occurred to her, felt much more satisfying. And it felt… good… to do things like this.

Perhaps later, she might worry about the influence it had on her, or if her mind was changing.

The Insecticons clustered around her, feeding reverently. One by one, they scuttled away and through her psychic link, she felt them at last satisfied. And something in them… changing. The dark hunger, the same as Unicron, was still present, but… dimmed. Or tamed?

Much like her own. Something, certainly, was changing her mind.

She considered the human currently sealed inside her, and she rather thought she enjoyed the feeling of him wriggling there, and not just because she’d denied Arcee a prize.

Hrm. Where was Arcee?

As the last Insecticon drank their fill from her, she felt the mad hunger fade from them, and plenty of them curled up to nap. “Missing your bike?” Airachnid murmured to Jack, of a mind to taunt the organic speck, and paused, not even noticing any reaction from him.

The Insecticons sensed something approaching. Something big. Airachnid leaned towards the rift her body had torn into the ground, peering into the black depths there, and she saw movement-

And then a fist as large as her own, large enough to tear islands from their roots, clocked her in the face.

The impact hit so hard, it rearranged the atmosphere, and the shockwave from it changed the geography of the moon. New mountains rose up from that punch, and the Insecticon horde was scattered to the wind.

And Airachnid was actually staggered by it.

Arcee stood up, strutting out of the pit, and she stood eye to eye with Airachnid, just as big as her, easily 100 miles tall.

She walked forward, her steps making islands on the moon. Each swing of her hips moved enough metal to make entire continents, and Airachnid was floored at how massive those hips were. Thighs packing more mass than cities slammed together, intricately interlocked squash plates mashing together, and her hips produced their own weather systems, flashing with pink and black energies. Her hips were easily wider than she was tall, and her backside so massive that the two globes rose higher than her elbows, jiggling and wobbling with each step, so broad they were visible from the front. Mostly black metal, interlocking into the transformed blue of her leg greaves, the light caught on her metal butt and she was jiggling so much the effect was like a disco ball. Behind her, her backside projected out like a tremendous shelf, an awe-inspiring sight.

Her breasts were not quite so large; if Airachnid had to guess, Arcee’s hips were larger than her own, but Airachnid had the bigger energon tanks.They still descended to, perhaps, her waist, dipping further, the black teardrop-shaped masses sticking outwards for a shocking distance, enormously wide, and so as Arcee advanced, her breasts slammed into Airachnid’s. They docked at first, and Airachnid was surprised at the pleasure of it, the shock of warmth in her. The full weight of it pushed her back, and Arcee rushed forwards, almost knocking her down; the massive weights dense enough to actually push her forwards.

Arcee actually leaped; her new form was significantly more bulky and powerfully built, and just as strong as Airachnid, and she flew into the sky, easily flipping and landing a kick square into Airachnid’s face. The Insecticons, at least the ones on different parts of the planet, had since recovered from her explosive arrival, and rose in a great mass to descend upon her. Arcee simply punche at the air, indifferently, and the shockwave again washed over the moon, knocking them away.

Airachnid commanded all her Insecticons to her; recognizing that they would be no use in this fight, she instead produced many openings in her body, as though she were a living ship. Her insecticons entered, hiding away inside her, and she allowed herself to draw power from them, and comfort from their simple adoration of her. And, annoyingly, she sensed that the human inside her knew Arcee had arrived, and was already rejoicing. Out loud, she said, “How did you reach my size!?”

Arcee smirked. There was something wilder about her now. She was moving differently. It was a sexual kind of ferocity, unhinged and even savage. What had the transformation done to her? “You left the artifact to me. And the rest of the Energon was mine. Easy enough to outdo you!” She smacked her massive butt, for emphasis, making a noise somewhere between rubber being slapped and a metallic clang.

Airachnid scowled. “...I’ll take it from you, once I finish beating you down.”

Arcee, having already swallowed it for safekeeping, doubted that. “You can try.”

“And I suppose now, Autobot, you’ll demand I surrender.”

“Mmm.” She made a mocking kissing sound. “Oh, you won’t have to surrender,” Arcee said, grinning in a truly terrifying way. Her plump lips slid back over rows and rows of long and cruel fangs. It was a feral smile, a bestial Dinobot kind of smile. “I’ll just beat my Jack out of you, and then I’ll keep on pummeling you until I get bored!”

For just a moment, Airachnid felt a flutter of uncertainty. “Wait-”

Arcee swung, a surprisingly graceful movement that put her massive bulk into the air, her heel strut landing square into Airachnid’s face. With that, the battle was properly joined, and Airachnid was plunged into a new valley carved out by the force of the kick. Another one, as Arcee spiraled down, struck Airachnid in the right boob, but the enormously dense metal absorbed it handily, and Arcee hopped in place, her foot stuck.

Airachnid’s spider limbs, much longer and bulkier than before, produced a number of nasty drills, hooks and other combat attachments. They dove forward, with such speed and force the air tore around them, and when they hit it produced a massive blast making more cracks in the moon. Unfortunately, most of them slammed into Arcee’s boobs, and the only one that didn’t hit a glancing blow on her butt, with all damage absorbed.

“Well, what do you know,” Arcee panted, a thrill in her optics. “These new features aren’t just fun. It's better than armor!” She headbutted Airachnid with a wild scream… and then promptly reeled back, dazed and woozy.

“Pity you don’t have the headgear for that kind of move!” Airachnid headbutted her, and with her horns, she was actually able to pull it off. Arcee stumbled back and Airachnid pressed forward, ramming her head into her again and again, chipping off bits of Arcee’s head plates and armor with nicks of her sharp horns.

Arcee recovered gradually, ducking back just enough to avoid another headbutt, and ducked low, leaning onto her breasts and affording herself enough leverage to kick out. Airachnid howled with pain as her shin joint locked up from the blow, sinking into a hole made by the impact. Arcee leaped up, and levered her massive weight into a brutal slam down onto her.

Airachnid escaped, and transformed. For a moment, she had some dreadful uncertainty; she felt not one potential alternate state, but many. It shocked her; she had not just one alternate form now. And the instincts of them all felt ready to direct her mind. The form of a spider, all predatory skill and violent speed. A two-wheeler form for pure speed, not so different from Arcee’s native form. Her original helicopter form, but scaled up…

She folded up, her curves compressing and providing far more cybermatter to make an even larger form, and she flew out as… well, as a spaceship. For a moment, it occurred to her she could simply leave, right here and now, with her prize. She rose up, engines firing…

“WE’RE NOT DONE HERE!” Arcee roared, her voice positively deranged, and her hands extending into wicked claws. Another arm became weaponized, turning into an absolutely massive cannon, and fired, the blast knocking Airachnid’s ship mode out of the sky.

Airachnid landed in the form of an enormous mechanical spider, raising forward multiple bladed limbs, and she charged. Her blades clattered ineffectually against Arcee’s armored breasts, but they were more effective against the rest of her, slicing at her forearms.

And so the two continued to fight.

Across the entire moon, their battle raged, assuming a multitude of forms as they did. Both of them fought far more aggressively than they might have before, though it had to be said: Airachnid was fighting for just enough space to retreat, perhaps recognizing that she needed more time to plan. Arcee fought for Jack, and to finally put down Airachnid, and she fought with a completely wild, ferocious savagery in keeping with the likes of Onyx Prime’s modern disciples; she clawed, she bit, she roared like a monster.

“SHOW ME SOME BLOOD!” She snarled, assuming the form of a gigantic creature not dissimilar to Earth’s wolverines, with a hint of velociraptor in there.

“We’re robots! We have no blood!” Airachnid retorted, in her ship form again, evidently an evolution of her original alt mode.

“SEMANTICS ARE STUPID! HOLD STILL AND DIE!” Arcee assumed a two-wheeler form, though now resembling a battle barge with treads, and rocketed into her. As she bounced off, she transformed back into biped form, producing a set of blades on her forearms and enthusiastically swinging at Airachnid, and began parrying Airachnid’s bladed spider-limbs.

Below, on Cybertron, the Autobot host assembled, waiting on instructions. Optimus Prime watched solemnly, doing a good job of hiding his complete bafflement on Arcee’s transformation, but he gave the order; make no move, unless Arcee was hurt. The battle was too large to risk collateral damage.

After all, the two fembots were still growing. Somehow, the radiation continued to affect them, and though they were too deep into battle to realize it, they had nearly doubled in size, to two hundred miles tall.

They continued to assume a dizzying variety of new forms, each one feeling as natural as two-wheeler and helicopter had before. Arcee barreled into her as a speedy tank, Airachnid resisted the attack as a combiner swarm. One became a living city and brandished turrets in a massive firearms attack, the other dug under the ground as a digging insect. One ran circles around in multiple speedy forms, the other simply assumed increasingly tougher and resilient ones. Even as Airachnid became a ship once more and rammed her, intending to piledrive her all the way into Cybertron, and Arcee became a space station, extending many weapons and firing point blank, dazing Airachnid so that they both floated in space, now orbiting Cybertron.

And, for that matter, both of them now larger than the moon they had been battling upon; their breasts and backside remained the roughly same proportions, but their enormous roundness looked like stellar masses from ground level. Their energon tanks slammed together, jiggling enticingly, as they clung to one another.

“Just… give me the artifact!” Airachnid hissed. “I’ll give you back your precious human! Let me achieve… perfection!” Her voice took on a slightly desperate air. “It is the key! To become as grand as Solus herself! I know it is!”

Arcee grinned in a truly frightening way. “It’s worth keeping it from you, just for that. You’ll have to live with that, forever! I took something you wanted! That you decided was yours! Try and live with THAT, Decepticon scum! See what it’s like!”

Airachnid hissed. “Mine… mine! Give it back!” She lunged.

And, unfortunately for her, it was very poorly timed. Arcee was a more experienced fighter overall, and while Airachnid was a deadly schemer, a vicious ambusher, and a cruel torturer, she battled best when she could surprise her foe. And Arcee was a scrapper by nature, and this was exactly her element. She rammed her tanks into her, using leverage and mass to her advantage; with her bigger hips, and larger backside. She had much more force to offer.

Airachnid leaned back, both stunned by the impact and strangely aroused. Arcee lifted herself up, wrapping her monstrously big thighs around Airachnid’s waist, and was pleased by how her old foe grunted in dismay. And she squeaked, putting all her planet-cracking leg strength into it. Airachnid gasped, with a satisfying cracking noise. As her monstrously huge breasts floated up in the vacuum of space, Arcee took her opportunity, and struck!

Her claws sank into the base of Airachnid’s torso, right to the join of cleavage and torsoplates. She missed the Spark chamber, though whether through mercy or sheer accident… hard to say. But she found what she aimed for, at a spot she had been focusing on the whole fight, and her claws popped it right open.

Her hands closed around Jack, still safe in his protective mech. And, for him, the entire world was the goddess-like grandness of Arcee. Her cleavage could have sheltered continents, her eyes burning stars, and her mouth swallow his home whole. She grinned with a wild and possessive air, and with no preamble, she scooped him up. Right above her Spark casing, she produced a suite suitable for the care and housing of an organic sweetheart, not unlike a luxury spaceship might have, and she plopped him in there. Multiple armatures stripped him out of the mech, to enjoy the comforts of Arcee more directly, and by some strange tweak of her internal shifting, it wound up in her mouth. She spat out the empty mech, indifferent to its cost.

She noticed, in a vague sort of way, his clothes were also there as well. Perhaps she got a bit overzealous, and then grinned as she thought of him naked there.

Still dazed, Airachnid moved. The motion drew Arcee’s attention, like a cat seeing a mouse move, and she grinned even wider. “I can think of one thing to make this day even better,” she said sweetly, drawing her arm back. It grew a massive blade, and she pointed it right at Airachnid’s chest. Airachnid’s eyes widened, because Arcee wanted her to know what was coming. Arcee swung, straight at her Spark-

Airachnid headbutted her again and Arcee detached. She was so stunned by the blow that one of her compartments opened, and out flew the artifact. “No!” She yelled, but Airachnid was faster, and she caught it. “No, no!” Airachnid ignored her, transforming into her ship form once again, and this time, just revved her engines up. The heat of them grew intense, sub-light systems manifested and engaged. Arcee roared in fury, and transformed as well, but her form blurred. She was so angry, so awash in pure bloodthirsty intent and thwarted revenge for so many lost friends, that she couldn’t settle on the right alt mode.

Normally, it would only have been several seconds of hesitation. And it was enough time for Airachnid to accelerate free of Cybertron’s orbit, breaking away from Arcee and out of her reach.

Arcee fired at her, but by now, it was a performative gesture. Airachnid, in ship mode, accelerated, and shifted into other realms of existence; she jumped, and then-

She was gone.

Arcee stared where she had been, for a long, long time.

And then her screams of rage made all of Cybertron shrink back in terror.

“Arcee…?” Jack said meekly within her, completely nude and quite self-conscious about it, but a lot more concerned by her thrashing. “Arcee! Please! Talk to me!”

It was a little frightening how fast Arcee’s attitude instantly calmed down. “Oh. Jack. You’re okay…” And mine, mine, MINE, some jealous and vindictive part of herself roared, and she purred in personal agreement.

“Arcee? Are we… are we okay?”

Arcee looked where her foe had gone. At least for the moment, Airachnid was gone, the last Decepticon holdout of any notable throat no longer an immediate concern. Jack was safe. And Acree herself…

She felt a thrill of power, such that she could tear worlds apart with barely any effort, and she gloried in the unfettered might of it. “Yes, we’re okay.”

She turned, regarding Cybertron, and she focused her attention, her optics zeroing in on the otherwise minute specks of the ordinary Autobots.

Her expression was...strange, for a moment, and briefly, unsettlingly like Airachnid when she regarded the brief and irrelevant humans she so looked down upon.

Then Arcee smiled sweetly, though fiercely, and wiggled her claws in greeting. “Hello down there,” she said coyly. “How do you all like the new me?”

------

It was several months later.

The moon had, by and large, been repaired, and now colonized. The facility within it could no longer produce the empowering Energon without the artifact it had hidden to do so, but it could still produce ordinary Energon, and was now presently feeding Cybertron and even its allies. Grimlock wasn’t too happy about his moon getting wrecked, but it amused Arcee to argue about it with him.

Arcee herself had kept growing for some time even after the fight, stabilizing until she was a little smaller than Cybertron. Given that the planet was largely hollow, her overall mass was probably equal to it. However, it was a bit boring hanging about in space with herself, Jack and any nearby space-capable ‘bots, so she worked out a way to displace her mass and become smaller, though she disliked getting too small; presently, she liked hitting Metrotitan size, and spent some time as her own city in what had once been the Sea of Rust.

Jack and her were now even more inseperable than before; she was becoming very jealous and possessive of him, and he was so enamored and won over by her that he meekly obliged her every whim, and simply lived in her full time. Some speculated what, exactly, they got up to in the complexity of her body, but the general opinion was that it was their own business.

Anyway, upsetting Arcee by being too nosy about it seemed… dangerous.

Not that she came off malicious to the other Autobots. She had changed, yes, but she was still an Autobot; compassionate, honorable, and vaguely insane at the best of times. (They had… unique recruiting practices. But you didn’t stick with the Autobots if you were a normal robot.) Optimus seemed to trust her, at least, so that was probably a good sign.

But she was a lot more wild than before. Enamored with her own power, preening and even vain.

“You’re… sure you don’t feel very different?” Ratchet said dubiously.

He sat atop her finger, which was big enough for him to stand upon with ease. Arcee sat upon her territory, one massive thigh posed dramatically, her energon tanks sloughing onto the ground around her, a number of Autobots happily curled up in there. Sometimes she cooed over them in a surprisingly maternal way. “Not really.” She smirked. “People think I do, huh?”

“You’ve been more… discreet, in the past.”

“You mean restrained.”

“Hmph. Yes. Suppose I do.”

Arcee leaned back. Her butt arched up into the sky, even with her laying back on it like her own personal mattress. “Doesn’t feel right anymore. I just like going with the flow. Anyway, planning’s hard. I guess. Easier to just… do whatever pops into my head.”

Ratchet looked worried. “But you don’t feel… less intelligent!?”

“No, no!” She waved a hand calmingly. “Not at all. I just don’t like… planning stuff out. Making things too complicated. It gets frustrating and, I don’t know, unnecessary.”

“Hrm.” Ratchet considered that. “Well… I do have some interesting news on that front. You know I was originally from Simfur, yes?”

“Thought you were Iaconian, doc.”

“Ethnically, yes. But I was raised in Simfur. When I was with Wheeljack, we raised Grimlock and his other, hah, reprobates.” He said this with greater affection than he used with anyone. It was a little weird, actually. “I learned much of the legends and stories of the area, particularly since Grimlock became a true believer in the religions surrounding Onyx Prime. You should know that this sort of… impulsiveness, is closely associated with the way Onyx Prime was described in the older legends.”

“I thought they was all wise, enlightened and that other slag.”

“Well, yes. But Onyx was also the first beastformer and progenitor of the Predacons. Their default solution to a threat was to bite it’s head off.”

“Hah!”

Ratchet eyed Arcee’s pronounced teeth and claws. “The… physical traits are more subtle than expected. Historically, anyone exposed to Onyxian Energon becomes a mutant beastformer. I suppose the presence of Solus’ influence affected it… though based on her legends, you ought to be even more unhinged.”

“Oh yeah, she was a bit wild, eh?”

“I think a more honest term might be ‘mad scientist’, Arcee.” Ratchet sniffed. “...Do you like being this large?”

“I’m gonna level with you, doc.” Arcee leaned in. “I have no idea how I could stomach being… puny. I’m never being smaller than this, I promise!”

“And the…” Ratchet gestured vaguely in a way that indicated outsized chest ornaments. “Those?”

��They’re Solusdamned sweet, is what!”

“...To each their own. I don’t judge, you know. Out loud.” They went through a variety of other topics, briefly covering Jack (who was quite happy, if increasingly agoraphobic and disinterested in non-Arcee vistas), Optimus’ mild approval of Arcee’s state on the basis of ‘if an Autobot wants to be something, it is that Autobot’s right to do so’, and Grimlock’s continuing attempts to arm wrestle her fingers for fun.

As Ratchet’s check up came to a close, with a report on his findings on Arcee’s changes, which were frankly alien (among other things, she was apparently multidimensional now, and her T-cog was now distributed throughout her whole body), he brought up one other matter. “There’s been no signs of Airachnid.”

“I didn’t think so.” At Ratchet’s glance, Arcee continued. “A giant fembot Terrorcon as big as a moon with an artifact like that would make some news.”

“If she’s even just the size of a moon now,” Ratchet said grimly. “The two of you had access to that… whatever it was, for less than a megacycle, and you’re bigger than Unicron when you want to be. Now…? We may need to look for solar systems disappearing when she’s feeling peckish.”

Arcee actually shuddered. “Don’t even say that, Ratchet. Don’t like to think about those cute little aliens getting… hit, by her.”

Ratchet glanced at her. ‘Cute’ was a new sentiment from her. But regardless. “I don’t know if even your increase in power will be able to cope with whatever she might have become. But, at the moment, barring some unusual breakthroughs in universal combining technology, you’re our best option. Megatron turned himself in, Starscream is in hiding, and most other Decepticons have either been captured or have submitted to trial. Airachnid is the last remnant of that sorry chapter of our lives.”

“More’s the pity I couldn’t kill her when I had the chance!”

“Well, you may just get your chance. You AND Jack.” Arcee gave him a surprised look. “Tell me, have you heard of something new the biological experts are looking into?”

Arcee tilted her head, with the clouds shifting in response. “Nope. I’m interested, though.”

“I’m not clear on the specifics. Xenobiology has never been an interest of mine. But we’re working on a way to resonate Sparks with the physiology of certain bonded aliens to amplify our power. It’s similar to combination, but without a physical transformation. But you need a close bond to make it work…” He gave her a look, or perhaps Jack’s permanent residence. “A VERY intimate bond.”

“...Oh~?” she said sweetly.

“A symbiotic link, amplifying an Autobot’s power, and potentially size. They’re calling it the Headmaster technology, I believe… or Powermaster, not sure which. What do you think? Would you and Jack take a look into it?”

Arcee almost drooled at the thought of being even stronger, and allowing Jack to help bring down Airachnid once and for all. “I wouldn’t mind~!”

#/#//#///#////#/////#commissions #my writing #fics #twitchy!transformers #twitchy!airachnid #twitchy!arcee #queued

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anotheruselessfangirl · 6 years ago

Text

New Ikesen Fic!

Hi, everyone! I just began posting my first Ikesen fic with our favourite Devil King, Nobu. If you want read more of it, check it out on Ao3. I’ll give you some sneak peeks for some chapters when I update.

It’s called The Devil’s Wife. It’s pretty much Nobunaga’s route with some new twists and additions, one of them being SMUT in future chapters. Hope you check it out, if you have any requests for something you want me to include in future chapters, feel free to ask. In the meant time, here’s a sneak peek for chapter 2. Enjoy!

The Devil’s Wife

2-Wedding Night.

We walked in silence for quite a few floors, before reaching a long hall and a door at the end of it. Nobunaga opened it, letting some space for me to enter.

-Get in. This will be your room from now on.

“My room?” I was confused at first, but then I thought maybe the Japanese are so formal, couples don’t even share a room in these times.

I entered the place and took a look around. It seemed awfully masculine. It had a set of armour in a corner, which I soon recognized as the one Nobunaga was wearing when I met him. Suddenly, I noticed he had entered as well and closed the door behind him.

-I thought this was my room- I questioned, not sure with what purpose.

-It was only mine before, now it is also yours.

So we will share a room. Great. Well, can’t say I’m completely disappointed, though maybe I should be? Either way, he just walked pass me and went to grab something from a shelter. I turned around in the meantime, and started getting closer to the balcony. It seemed like it had a beautiful view, but I wasn’t sure it was okay for me to leave the room.

-You can take a look- Nobunaga spoke, as if reading my mind -This is your place too from now on. You may go to whatever part of the palace you fancy.

He offered me a cup of sake, having one himself. I accepted it, but also got a bit worried remembering I saw him have quite a lot of it already. Just looking at him, he didn’t seem to be drunk, but looks can be deceiving. Nevertheless, since he gave me leeway, I stepped into the balcony. I was right. The view really was beautiful, with a full moon on sky full of shiny stars. I took in a deep breath of fresh air.

-Why did you insist you’d agreed to the match, despite being so scared? – Nobunaga suddenly talked to me in English, and I turned to see him coming to my side.

-Well, Akabori threatened to throw me to the bandits if I didn’t agree. I got the feeling he’d blame me and do it all the same if you refused me.

-You’ve got good survival instincts, then- he said taking a sip from his cup. I was about to ask him if he hadn’t had enough, when he left it on a side and all of the sudden came over me whispering -Now, to your wife duties.

-Oh, wow! Uhm…- I started walking backwards trying to think of a way to get out of this -Yes, about that. I actually had a few suggestions, I thought maybe we could strike a deal.

He kept getting closer to me until my back hit the railing. Dammit, he was so tall and broad. I really was a little bird in front of a massive lion, one that looked very eager to catch me no less.

-What kind of suggestions? – he put his hands on both sides of my body and I struggled trying to ignore how close his face was, how his breath hit the tip of my nose and his wild hazel eyes kept intentionally staring at my lips.

-Uh, well… I’m very good at making sweets. Perhaps I could work in the kitchen or something. Make your food, maybe? – I was nervously talking. I knew I had no way out of this, there was no possibility he would let me go on our wedding night. But my brain wasn’t listening to reason.

-I already have people who work in the kitchen- he answered -If you want to make a deal, you’ll have to offer me something only you can do.

I jumped at that comment -I can assure you I could do things you’ve never tried before.

Being from the future and having travelled so much, I knew there were recipes he surely didn’t even know that existed. But he just grinned at my answer.

-If that’s the best you can offer, I’ll select your job instead. You will be my cup.

I frowned really confused, watching him take my glass from my hands -What?

-You’ll let me drink from your lips- he tried to put the cup on my mouth and I instantly jumped to hold him from doing so.

-What? That is so weird. Why not just ask for a kiss? – “like a normal person” I thought. I was glad I kept myself from saying that last part, though. I felt like what I said may already upset him.

Oddly enough, he was just surprised by my answer -You don’t hold back your tongue, do you? Very well, then- he put the cup on a side and this time, got his face so close to mine our noses touched -Kiss me.

His voice was so deep and low, a whisper that disappeared into my open mouth. I needed to just stretch my lips and I’d probably be kissing him already. His smirk made it clear he was going to wait for me to make the first move, and part of me actually wanted to. I couldn’t help wonder what his kiss would feel like. But of course, that wasn’t what my brain ordered my mouth to do.

-How about a hug? – I opened my arms and smiled innocently, slapping myself mentally so hard for it. Nobunaga stepped back in surprise and I was scared for a moment that I might have made him mad. But a second later, he laughed in complete amusement.

-You’re really entertaining, woman. I knew I was choosing well.

He walked away from me and went back into the room, leaving me disoriented and a bit flustered. I followed behind him to see what he was doing. He wasn’t letting me go, was he? It couldn’t be that easy.

-If you won’t submit to me despite our marriage, then you’ll have to make a bet with me- he started taking something from his shelves while he spoke -Are you familiar with Go?

-The board game? I’ve seen it but I never played, why?

-I’ll teach you how to play, and this will be our deal- he put down the board on the floor, and two bowls full of white and black stones -Every time you lose, I will claim a part of your body as my own. That means I’m able to touch or kiss it.

“Say what?”. First, he asks me to be his cup instead of just kissing him, and now this? He’s a grown-up man, did nobody teach him how to flirt with a girl?

-I will take no pleasure in using force- he added -So I’ll have you willingly submit to me, piece by piece.

Now that he declared he wouldn’t press me, I actually felt quite relieved. The deal sounded like it could turn into some Fifty Shades of Gray kind of thing, but I was somehow intrigued. It can’t be that bad, can it? Like I said before, he is good-looking.

-And if I win? – I asked.

-You may ask for whatever you want.

I raised an eyebrow -Like, anything at all?

-Yes. You can even ask to go back to your land, and I shall allow it.

-Wait, you would let me go if I asked? – I was utterly surprised by that.

-If you can defeat me, you would have earned it- he grinned -Now sit.

Still in shock, I obeyed and went to sit in front of the board. It didn’t seem like he’d answer many more questions. Once ready, he patiently explained to me the basics of the game and I tried to listen carefully. My head was rather overwhelmed by everything that was happening, but I’d played chess for a long time, I’m actually quite good at strategy games. Surely, I would beat him at some point and it would be important. In times like this, I could certainly use a favour some time.

-Did you understand? – he asked.

I nodded -I think I got it.

The game started and I realized it was happening, I didn’t even get a practice match. I tried to analyse my every move before placing each stone, but chess strategies were completely useless in this game. It wasn’t even a few minutes, and he’d already defeated me.

-Hey! Couldn’t you go a bit easy on me? I’m just an amateur! – I complained quite loudly.

-I’ve never gone easy on anyone. Not in Go and not on the battle field. Now, to our deal- he grabbed the hand I’d been placing my stones with and I gasped in surprise -Tonight, I’ll take this. Starting from now, your hand is mine.

My hand? That was not what I expected. He really is a strange man. After such idea, I thought he’d be more daring. Maybe he has a hand-fetish? Is that a thing?

I continued making sarcastic comments in my head until his lips touched my skin, and my thoughts went everywhere. He kissed the back of it with a softness I didn’t anticipate, making me wish it wasn’t just my hand that he was kissing. He traced his way to my fingertips, getting me quite flustered by how long he took with each, until he suddenly caught my pinkie in his teeth, and a gasp left my mouth without warning. I could feel the tip of his tongue and his hot breath. Since when was my hand so sensitive?

-A good reaction- he smiled smugly, making me furious this time. I didn’t care how good he made me feel, I wasn’t going to let him mock me.

-Yes, well, you’ve had your laugh. Can we move on now?

-Move on to what? – he asked with vain interest.

-I want a rematch– I defied him, and actually managed to surprise him.

-You’re eager for me to make my next my claim already?

I narrowed my eyes, quite mad at his attitude. The competitive chess player in me was taking the best out of me -You have to beat me first.

He smirked with satisfaction and I did not let myself get intimidated -Then, let’s get on with it.

I got my hand back, still feeling his lips on it, and decided I would not be defeated so easily. I gave it my best this time, and only realized how stupid it was to ask for another game when he placed his final black stone.

-I win- he declared, in case it wasn’t obvious, and I growled.

“Can I time travel again to slap the past me?”.

This time, Nobunaga moved the board to a side with a muscular arm, and then stared at me -Now, come closer.

I hesitated for a moment, but just sighed and decided to go along with it. I got myself into this mess after all. Besides, he started with my hand, how bad could his next request be? Clearly, he’s not the predator he pretends to be.

-Oh! – I almost tripped when he grabbed me as I was approaching and pulled me to him. He sat me on his lap on the side, and I had to put my hands on his shoulders to maintain balance, leaving his face to centimetres of mine again.

-For your bravery in asking for a rematch, this time I’ll take this- one of his hands traced my neck with such softness, it gave me goosebumps. “This is how bad it can be, Mia” said the voice in my head. I didn’t need anyone telling me I was sensitive there, it had always been one of my weak spots.

-You’re blushing and I haven’t even started- he grinned at me and I jumped.

-I’m not! You’re just—Hey! – he placed a kiss where his finger had been a moment ago and I gasped again.

-Quiet. I’m enjoying the fruits of my victory.

“Oh, you’re so infuriating”. I didn’t care what time I was in, I didn’t like being bossed around, especially during a moment I would otherwise find quite pleasant. His kisses were soft and short, which made it easy for me to control my breath this time. I sighed thinking maybe this claiming would at least be tolerable.

Boy, I was wrong.

Without warning, he started opening his mouth and using his tongue, making me feel the hotness of his breath. I felt myself beginning to pant and hold tighter to his shoulder. I tried to fight it, yet my eyes closed and I moved my head to give him more room. Only when his lips started descending, was I awaken from my cloud of pleasure.

-Okay, that’s enough- I said.

-Why?

I knew he was smiling down there, even if I couldn’t see him. I was prepared to answer when he suddenly sucked on my pulse using his teeth as well, and no will of mine could help the moan that escaped from my mouth.

-I think I can see why- he added to my embarrassment by softly whispering, kissing the spot where I was sure he’d left a mark -It seems I chose well.

His caresses moved to the other side of my neck. He had no intentions of stopping despite my asking. I tried biting my lip to stop the sounds that were screaming to get out, but then I heard how strong my breathing had become, and realized it was completely useless. He had me exactly where he wanted. Whenever it looked like I might have myself under control, he’d start using his teeth again and there was no stopping the sounds that left my mouth. If I tried to back up, he would hold me closer, making his kisses all the more intense. My hands burned wanting to be buried in his hair and pull him closer. I was about to moan really loud.

-Stop- I asked, and this time he listened.

-Is that what you want? – as if to punish me, he whispered in my ear, making it tingle, letting me hear a bit of arousal in his voice. I was a hot mess at this point.

-Yes- I answered out loud, trying to sound firm. I wanted him to stop, but only because I feared I’d give myself up if he continued. I could already hear my heartbeat in my ears. Nobunaga faced me again and while I stared at his close face, I wondered if I would’ve spared myself all this torture by simply kissing him when he asked.

-I wonder if all my conquests will be this pleasurable- he smirked.

-It will not be that easy for you, you know? – I had to give myself a pat on the back for at least keeping some composure in the face of danger.

-We’ll have plenty of time, and I’m looking forward to it- he grabbed the hand he’d conquered before and place a kiss on my knuckles -It’s been a fine wedding night, you have my praise.

I rolled my eyes. At least someone was happy with it. But now that I knew he wasn’t so dangerous, I wasn’t going to tremble and surrender that easily. I would definitely put up a fight and show I was no stranger to this type of sensation. I won’t let our married life be entertaining just for him.

#nobunaga oda #oda nobunaga #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen nobunaga #Nobunaga x OC #Nobunaga fic #ikesen fic #Nobunaga Oda fic #Nobunaga Oda x OC #NobunagaxOC #NobunagaOdaxOC #ikemen sengoku fic

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