#autobot Breach | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writeyouin · 5 months ago

Note

I dont know if this went through but can I get a valentines day request for tfa sentinel prime falling in love with a g/n human reader?

Sentinel Prime (TFA) X Reader – Making Alliances

Description: After the war between Earth and Cybertron ended, you were recruited to work alongside Sentinel Prime. Yet, he tries to make your job hard, determined to keep on hating humans. Yet, given time, he finds it almost impossible to dislike you, no matter how hard he tries.

A/N – I had such a basic bitch plan for this and instead it turned into one of my longer fics.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

“Guys, really, it’s fine. I’m fine,” You tried to assure the Autobots.

Optimus, Bulkhead and Ratchet looked at you doubtfully. Bumblebee looked more annoyed.

“Fine? How can you be fine with this? This reeks!” He exclaimed, waving his arms around.

You stifled a laugh at his over-dramatics. “Okay, I’ll admit, I never saw myself working with Sentinel, but… It’s not a terrible idea.”

Although you had your doubts, you believed what you said. Now that the war was over, and Megatron had been defeated, Cybertron had officially launched the Earth Alliance Program. Since the Autobots had been posted on Earth during the war, there was no point denying Alien existence, even though many Cybertronians didn’t think much of humans. Having been stationed on Cybertron for a week while you acclimatised, you had heard the hushed comments about how you weren’t advanced enough to be there, and how weak and fragile your frame was.

When the Autobots had come to your planet, they had faced their share of xenophobia, some of which continued to this day. Now that you were on their planet, you were beginning to get the same treatment.

In an attempt to bring your races closer together, Ultra Magnus had decided it would be best for you to be placed with a high-ranking officer, and as such he had made you Sentinel Prime’s assistant. Although he could have just as easily put you to work with Jazz, or left you with Optimus’ team, you understood his reasoning. If Sentinel could get over his prejudices, then anyone could. Besides, you still had one week left before you were to begin your work. In that time, you were expected to report any struggles that you had living on Cybertron.

In your first week, you had reported that the shower in your specially-made apartment was too hot, the cooking facilities were inadequate, and that you needed your own mode of transport so nobody else had to help you get around.

All the issues were addressed relatively quickly and now you had a motor-scooter which ran on autopilot. The vehicle did have a function for you to drive it yourself, but it had been dictated that you could not use that unless it was an emergency, otherwise you would be in breach of the first Cybertronian law written with humans in mind; it seemed that the governing body didn’t trust you to drive, though their fear and prejudice didn’t bother you too much.

“Are you even listening to me?!” Bumblebee waved his arms erratically.

While you had been lost in thought about your new position, he had been ranting about what a scrap heap Sentinel was.

You held up your hands placatingly, feeling a tiny pang of sadness that Prowl wasn’t there. It used to be him that ended Bumblebee’s tirades but… Well, everyone knew that war had its casualties; you just wished that it didn’t have to be someone you knew.

“Yes, I’m, listening. But seriously Bumblebee, you don’t have to worry about me. It’s just a job.”

‘A job I feel massively underqualified for,’ You added in your head, thinking how you had only been chosen because you met the Autobots by chance and they trusted you as their second human liaison.

Sari would also start her life on Cybertron, but seeing how she was techno-organic and only a teenager, she was going to school to learn about her Cybertronian heritage and culture.

Jazz and Bulkhead were going to stay on Earth, and Optimus was going to travel between both planets in an attempt to cement the worlds’ budding relationship. So, for a while, you would be alone, at least in a working capacity. Granted, Ratchet and Bumblebee would be nearby, but this was something you would have to do on your own.

“Alright,” Bumblebee grumbled. “But if he’s a glitch-head, get me and I’ll kick the scrap outta him!”

“You and what army?” Ratchet commented drily.

You chuckled and thanked Bumblebee, touching his arm to soothe him. A blush dusted his cheeks.

“Uh games night?” He said hurriedly, attempting to hide his feelings before racing off to where Sari was waiting for you all.

You ignored his flush red, fully aware of how he felt about you. You knew that was a conversation that the two of you would have to have one day, but you waited for the day he might bring it up. Besides, since this was the last night everyone would be together for a while, you didn’t want anything to jeopardise the fun, especially when faced with something as tough as unrequited love.

“I’m here,” You said breathlessly, shooting through the automatic door just in time for work.

Sentinel glared at you. He had been counting on you being late so that he could complain about you to anyone who would listen afterwards.

“So… What would you like me to do, Sentinel Prime, Sir?” You bowed formally. There was no need to do so, but you hoped that by addressing him with such respect, he might warm to you somewhat. Having met him once or twice before, you knew how arrogant he could be and had decided for an easy life it might be better to stroke his ego somewhat.

Your gambit paid off as Sentinel forgot whatever sharp insult he was about to say. Instead, he blustered, puffed out his chest and managed to order you to stay out of his way while he did his job.

“Sorry Sir, but Ultra Magnus ordered me to help you in whatever way I can.”

“I know that! It doesn’t matter. I don’t need your help. Just stay out of my way and at the end of all this, we can tell Ultra Magnus to have you reassigned.”

“No, sir,” You said adamantly, standing your ground.

“What?” Sentinel spat, his lip curling.

“I’m here to work with you. I won’t be shunted to the side just ‘cos I’m human. Our planets worked together to capture Megatron, now we have to work together to show that our races can do the same.”

Sentinel stared menacingly at you. He didn’t want to be anywhere near you. You were small, organic, filthy. With that in mind, he wished you would just leave. He didn’t want any of your gross germs on him. Yet, it seemed that you were also stubborn in your mission.

“Fine,” He said after a minute, though it was clear he wanted to tell you where to go. “Just don’t do any of that gross human stuff. If you sneeze-” He didn’t finish his sentence, shuddering at the thought.

You gave him a thumbs up, “No sneezing, got it.”

With that, Sentinel finally gave you some work to do, and you began what was sure to be a rocky relationship.

Working with Sentinel was difficult.

Sometimes, he would barely give you any work at all, insisting you use your ‘initiative’ to find tasks that would aid him. On other days, he would pile your workload impossibly high, and if you were struggling to understand the reports that he had ordered you to complete, that was your fault and he wouldn’t help you.

Either way, at the end of the shift, he would get to kick back at the bar and complain that you either didn’t understand the job or couldn’t keep up with the tasks provided to a bunch of equally closed-minded mechs who wanted to see you fail.

Still, you didn’t complain, doing your best to learn all you needed to succeed. To Sentinel it was infuriating, but you knew that if you complained, it would validate everything he thought about you, no matter how unfair it was.

Fortunately, you learned how to better work around him by talking to him with the utmost respect, complimenting him, and generally getting him talking about himself. On days when he indulged you with stories of his glory days, he was a little kinder, occasionally throwing you a bone and helping you out a bit with some of your workload, or sometimes instructing you on things you had been struggling with.

Still, your working relationship wasn’t great and wouldn’t be viable unless something changed.

Such a day finally came when Sentinel had the terrible idea that you should be faster, and very suddenly presented you with his patented human speed shoes… They were rollerblades.

“I can’t use these,” You sighed when he threw them at you, too afraid to hand them to you in case you touched him.

“You can and you will,” Sentinel harrumphed.

“Sentinel, I can’t rollerblade, at least not with all the things I have to carry about, and-”

“Is this you refusing to work, human?”

You rolled your eyes. Not only was he seeking an excuse to stop working with you, but he was also playing his trump card by calling you human instead of using your name; he did that whenever he wanted to instil a feeling of power imbalance upon you.

“Fine,” You sighed, giving in. “I’ll wear the damn rollerblades.”

“Speed-shoes,” Sentinel corrected.

“Speed-shoes,” You conceded, finding him to be extra impossible.

As you had told Sentinel, using the rollerblades for work was impossible, especially when you were carrying a stack of oversized datapads that you couldn’t see over, since Sentinel was also being unreasonable about your workload.

It started as a stumble on one of the higher walkways that had been provided like scaffolding around the office for you to work with. Yet, instead of falling, you dropped the datapads, tripped backwards, and screamed as you fell over the handrail.

While Sentinel was mostly paper-pushing since the war was over, he was still trained for battle. He hurriedly spun around at the sound of your scream and ran to catch you. While he was timely in his rescue, he wasn’t gentle and he blanched at the sound of bone snapping.

He expected you to cry out again, but you were worryingly quiet upon the realisation that your leg had broken.

“(Y/N)!” Sentinel yelled your name. His processor skipped over the necessary sentences as he scrambled to think of what to say next. He was stuck between asking if you were okay, even though you clearly weren’t, ordering you not to tell anyone about the speed shoes that had caused the accident, and demanding you to tell him how to fix you.

“I- I-” Tears streamed from your eyes.

Sentinel was taken aback by how pale you were and how unusual it felt to hold you. He was certain he would drop you if any liquids came out of you, yet here you were crying and all he wanted to do was hold you closer and tell you that everything was going to be okay.

You were soft and warm and… completely unexpected.

“R-Ratchet,” You managed to say between your sniffles and grunts of pain, pulling the rollerblades off, even though it hurt to move.

“Right!” Sentinel exclaimed, snapping out of his silence.

He transformed into vehicle mode, grimacing when it caused you more pain to be jostled about, then he sped to the medical school where Ratchet was spending his twilight years, passing on his knowledge to another generation of bots.

“What in tarnation is going on here?” Ratchet demanded of Sentinel as he held you out to the older bot in the safety of a private med-bay.

“I-(Y/N)-” Sentinel stammered, feeling the pressure of Ratchet’s stern glare.

“I fell,” You said weakly to Ratchet.

“Fell, huh?” Ratchet said doubtfully. “Where are your shoes, kid?”

You shook your head, indicating that it didn’t matter, but Ratchet was an astute old bot, and he shot a scathing to look at Sentinel, even though you hadn’t sold him out.

“Really, Ratchet. It- it was my f-”

“Never mind that, kid. Let’s get you seen to.”

Although Sentinel wanted to leave, he stayed, mostly because he couldn’t fathom why you hadn’t told on him. He regretted that decision when Ratchet asked him to chat privately after treating you. By that point, you were too tired to protect Sentinel further, and the pain medication had made you somewhat woozy. Besides, even if you had been in any shape to argue, you couldn’t keep up with either of them on a bandaged leg, and without assistance you couldn’t get down from the medical berth provided.

Once Ratchet had got Sentinel out of your sight, he began yelling, “I don’t know what you did, but you're darn lucky that kid isn’t selling you out! That’s far more loyalty than you’d ever give to them!”

“Wha-” Sentinel spluttered, offended and slightly intimidated by the older bot.

“Don’t you dare try to explain yourself to me! Young bots are all alike, all arrogance and no spark. Do you know how long it takes for an injury like that to heal in humans?! AND (Y/N) WILL BE TRAPPED HERE FOR A FEW DAYS, BORED AND ALONE SINCE YOU KEEP TELLING EVERY DAMNED BOT WHO’LL LISTEN TO YOU HOW LITTLE YOU THINK OF HUMANS!”

“I-” Sentinel held up a finger to argue, but Ratchet slapped his servo away.

“Don’t you dare try to argue with me,” He said dangerously. “I’ve seen (Y/N) a few times since she started working with you. You’ve overworked that poor kid for no reason at all, and let me tell you something- That kid won’t quit. You can pile on all the work you want, and (Y/N) will do it. They’ll exhaust themself to do anything you ask, all because they’re the bigger person and want to be friends.”

Ratchet barked a mirthless laugh, continuing his tirade, “Friends, HAH! But you won’t let that happen, will you, Mr. Bigshot. No, ‘cos you’re so superior. Well, anything to say for yourself now?”

Sentinel looked somewhat ashamed and contrite after Ratchet’s verbal rebuke, yet he let his anger bubble up and overtake him.

“I am your superior officer,” He spat contemptuously.

Ratchet shook his head, disgustedly. “Then lead by example and do something worthy of the title.”

The older bot was about to walk away, but Sentinel wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction, so he stormed ahead first, rushing back to the room you were stuck in.

“Come on (Y/N), I’m taking you home.”

“I just told you (Y/N) has to stay here,” Ratchet yelled, catching up.

“Not if there’s someone to take care of them.”

“And you’re gonna do that?”

“Yes!”

Sentinel picked you up, more gently than before, and this time, he was extra careful as he transformed so as to spare you any discomfort.

He wasn’t entirely certain whether to take you to your own home or his, but after some thought about organic fuels and how much effort you would have to put into traversing his sizeable house, he opted for taking you to your place, next door to the techno-organic and down the road from that insufferable Bumblebee.

Sentinel especially hated the contentious yellow mini-bot since he always found reasons to bother you at work and it was a massive distraction. It didn’t help that Bumblebee was obviously head over pedes for you and that he had no respect for Sentinel at all; he only ever left at your insistence, and always with an insult for Sentinel about the workload he gave to you.

Hm… your workload. Sentinel couldn’t help thinking about what an aft he’d been of late.

“When you’re fit for work, I think you should take it easy. No more 12 groon days.”

A groon on Cybertron was more or less an hour, and you nodded along sleepily in understanding, grumbling a half-word that didn’t make sense outside of your head.

“Hey, are you listening?”

Your eyes shut heavily and you could barely lift them open to respond.

“Great, I suppose I have to take you to bed now too?” Sentinel complained, covering just how worried he was that you were acting out of the ordinary.

When he got you home, Sentinel struggled to take care of you; he had very little knowledge on humans, except that they had corrosive spit, though most were apparently too civilised to use it. Your house was a hybrid of human-sized equipment and catwalks, and lounge space for several Cybertronians, yet having never been there before, Sentinel didn’t know the layout, nor did he understand what half your appliances did, or what certain rooms were for.

He did manage to find your bed and lift you up to it, but after that, he felt like he should be doing something more to help. You were recharging now, but you would probably need things when you woke up.

Stuck on what to do, Sentinel reluctantly knocked on your neighbour’s door.

“What do you want?” Sari asked obnoxiously, annoyed to have been interrupted in the middle of the day, right after she had returned from class.

“I- I-” Sentinel made an effort to swallow his pride, an act which took a good five minutes. “I need your help.”

It took Sari about 10 minutes to stop laughing, but she got very serious when Sentinel begrudgingly explained that you were injured and that he didn’t know how to help you. After seeing you in bed, sleeping off the pain medication that Ratchet had administered, Sari explained very carefully how long it would take for your leg to heal, and what Sentinel had to do in the few coming days to help you out, such as placing a water bottle by your bed, and making sure your crutches were in reach.

Sentinel listened to everything she said, ignoring the back-handed insults that came his way, then after Sari left, he settled into the bot-sized lounge, waiting for you to wake up. He put the TV on, watching a show from Earth you had left in the player, synching the volume to his audials, but keeping it low all the same in case he needed to hear you wake up.

Having watched several episodes of the comedy show you had, Sentinel had to admit, it was pretty funny… for something humans had made. The idea of Ghosts being so ridiculously stupid did amuse him.

You woke up quietly, sucking in pain through your teeth as the medication you had been given started to wear off. Admittedly, you were surprised to see Sentinel in your house, even though you vaguely remembered him promising that he would be there.

It was amusing to see him actually having fun for once. Usually, he was tense and angry around you; you hadn’t realised he could be happy without putting someone else down.

You tried to get up without disturbing him but the crutch clattered to the floor before you could grab it.

“(Y/N),” Sentinel stood up quickly. “How are you feeling? Do you need Ratchet again?”

“I’m-” You thought about saying you were fine, as was the expected social response. Instead, you decided to answer truthfully. “I’m tired, but my leg was bothering me a bit.”

“It’ll be fine,” You added hurriedly before he could rush off to get help you didn’t need, “It’s just sore.”

Sentinel nodded. “From what I understand, it will be painful for some time,” He didn’t mention that by that he also meant the memory of inadvertently hurting you.

You nodded with a tired smile, “Yeah… Could be worse though. Thank you, for getting me help.”

“Thank… Thank you for your loyalty.”

You nodded again, “Yeah uh… You- You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. I can take care of myself.”

Sentinel would have gladly left if he didn’t feel so responsible for you. “I need to stay for a while if you are comfortable with me being here.”

“Okay,” You agreed, reaching again for your crutches so you could go to the bathroom.

Sentinel hurried to pick them up for you. “Okay,” He agreed solemnly.

Sentinel was surprisingly attentive to you. Although you only needed him for a day or so, he insisted on staying the full week. After that, he brought work to you for a while, afraid that if you returned to the main work base, you’d somehow make your recovery take longer.

Yet, the reports that he brought you were easier than before, confirming your suspicions that he had initially made your job harder than it needed to be; the deadlines were also laxer, and he took the time to explain a few things to you.

He stopped complaining about you to bots at the bar, and now on the odd occasion you sneezed or cleared your throat, he didn’t flinch or make nasty comments. In short, he was getting used to you, and you realised that when he tried, he could be very nice.

The peace was short lived however when Bumblebee came over to visit for the fourth time since you’d been hurt.

“You should quit,” He told you, point-blank, having abandoned the video game the two of you had been playing.

“Excuse me?” You asked, wondering what had prompted his response this time.

“Quit! Go back to working for the correct Prime. Optimus would treat you better and he wouldn’t make you work when you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick. A broken leg is not a sickness.”

“It’s an injury,” Bumblebee said accusingly, raising his voice.

“Bumblebee, this is for our races to work together. This is a good start.”

Bumblebee blushed. The way you spoke so passionately about your races working together made him think that you were talking about more than work… Maybe, you were talking about you and him. Together.

“Besides,” You added, “Working for Sentinel isn’t half-bad, you know. He’s- He’s been kind to me.”

Bumblebee froze at the look on your face. Pink-dusted cheeks, a soft smile that he had imagined would be reserved for him, the way your eyes glazed over almost dreamily when you spoke about Sentinel. No, no! This couldn’t be happening. You could not get feelings for that pompous, arrogant, pile of SLAG!

“How did you get hurt?” Bumblebee asked, dangerously quiet, though you missed the intention behind his tone.

He had asked you before, but you rattled off an excuse about being careless.

“I already told you,” You started, only to be cut off by a Bumblebee who was angrier than you’d ever seen him before.

“HOW DID YOU GET HURT?!”

“Bumblebee-”

“HOW?! IT WAS HIM WASN’T IT!”

“I-”

Bumblebee ran out of your house, transforming as soon as he was on the streets. He was determined to give Sentinel a piece of his mind.

It took a while for Bumblebee to find Sentinel, not knowing the places that the Prime frequented. Yet, he eventually found him leaving a store with a small box that fit under his arm.

Bumblebee rushed at Sentinel, throwing a punch against the larger bot’s jaw. Had he been prepared, Sentinel might have faired better, but as it was, he dropped the box he was carrying and stumbled backwards, against the alley wall.

Bumblebee tried to pin him but Sentinel pushed him back, grappling his arms.

“WHAT THE FRAG ARE YOU DOING?” Sentinel demanded as the two struggled, holding each other’s shoulder plates and trying to get the better of their opponent.

Bumblebee headbutted Sentinel in the chassis to little effect, “IT’S YOUR FAULT (Y/N) GOT HURT! ADMIT IT! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!”

Bumblebee waited for the adamant denial Sentinel was known for. He pushed Sentinel back, readying his stingers, and only stopping when Sentinel answered.

“Yes.”

Bumblebee stopped in his tracks, mouth agape. Sentinel had never once taken responsibility for his actions.

“What?”

“It was my fault,” Sentinel admitted bitterly.

For the first time since finding him that night, Bumblebee really looked at Sentinel. “Why? Why now? After all this time, you finally admit to something…”

“It’s not natural…” Sentinel said more to himself than to Bumblebee. He was thinking about his feelings towards you, certain that it wasn’t right for a Cybertronian to feel anything romantic towards a human. He bent down to pick up the box which had spilled its contents onto the floor.

Bumblebee glanced down finding that it was all things for humans. Imported books from Earth, snacks you had been known to eat, herbal tea that Ratchet often recommended, and some pain medication.

Bumblebee picked up the tea, staring at it morosely before handing it to Sentinel who took it warily.

“(Y/N) doesn’t like that flavour,” He said quietly.

“I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bumblebee nodded. He didn’t apologise for his actions, though it was implied in his tone when he addressed Sentinel for the final time that night, “Take better care of them. They’re everything to me.”

Sentinel nodded, watching Bumblebee walk away afterwards. He stayed there a few minutes longer before heading over to your house to gift you the things he had bought.

Like my work? Buy me a ko-fi

#fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #maccadam #transformers animated #tfa #ratchet #sentinel prime #sentinel prime x reader #sentinel prime x you #bumblebee #bumblebee x reader #making alliances

190 notes · View notes

ikkosu · 9 months ago

Note

prowl stealing reader's panty and being an overall pathetic scumbag 🛐 I need

a/n: OUGHHHHH YESSSSS. NSFW WARNING UNDER THE CUT

IT'S funny. A lot funny, really. He considers himself pragmatic, prone to cold shoulders, used to remarks that'll sully his name, maybe even leave a dent on his face. He does have an optic left, though. All that he doesn't care because honestly? There’s no weight to it, whatsoever.

And yet.

You've been nice to him only once — a mere smile and a few parting words of praise, and now he's reduced to a degenerate, cushioned up against his berth as he purges himself with the scent of your undergarment. Panties, he remembers. Even better — or worse. Primus, it's unwashed.

His optics droop as the musky scent hits. Shoulders, once taut, now relaxed, helm hitting the berth as he groans. It was soft. Much too soft agains this hand, against his face. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. He had only known, however, was the fact that he’s not himself. And a pull of something so minuscule, an organic fabric of all things, that reeled him senseless of thoughts is ridiculous.

He’s breached at least several protocols in the Autobot Code. Even behind closed doors in the confines of his own quarters, he had already crossed a line by invading your privacy. Invading your trust.

A simple patrol along the halls had his pedes roosted by your doorsteps. The Organic barracks. Female, too. After all, he was the one who fixed your lock when it broke (hm, yeah, wonder why) — so it doesn’t come off as a surprise when the officer is spotted dawdling in front of your room.

Initially, he’ll do a quick inspection and leave. But the door. It was wide open. A quick peek wouldn’t hurt, right? He just needed to, ah, yes, needed to see if anyone had messed with your belongings. Theft is a big, big concern these days. (Wheeljack would know, he’s been stealing Nitric Acid from medbay without fail. )

And, it does. It made him stuff a handful of your panties into his sub space. Made his pedes skim across the halls until he’s in his own quarters — doing whatever the hell he is doing now : eyes shut, lower regions pressured and uncomfortable.

Prowl never denies. He never denies his guilt because that would mean his calculations are proven innacurate. A faulty assumption. A mistake. And here’s the thing is— he never makes a mistake. So, he chalks it up to illusion when he thinks about you. A reason to justify the means of being a scumbag.

You’re pretty. Nice. That’s all there is to it. He knows he’s lonely so he’s filling up the void. It’s nothing deep. As soon as tomorrow comes, he’ll avoid you. Avoid you like he’s not fisting his spike, conjuring up images, wondering how you’d feel against him as he’s rutting up your soft flesh.

How your ankles would hook over his shoulders. How your sweet face would contort, lips, pretty and soft kissing up his shaft.His servos on your hips as he rolls his own, watching the spike pushing up against your cunt— in and out, slick and throbbing. How would you sound? Soft? Guttural? Loud? Would you bite your fist when he’s too rough?

Prowl groans, re-positioning the fabric over his spike. It had become too slick, purple transfluid blotching the pink a more creamy mauve and his other servo comes to stifle his moans.

He’s not getting any sleep tonight.

#Ouhhhghhh send more yummy requests like these!!#maccadam #transformers x reader #idw prowl #prowl x reader #transformers idw #valveplug #prowl idw #transformers prowl

189 notes · View notes

bad-tf-fic-ideas · 5 months ago

Text

(301) Sex pollen, but make it a biological weapon. This could be any continuity you prefer.

The Autobots are being so careful about how they investigate the toxins they found in an old Decepticon research vessel. The dead bodies inside seem to have interfaced themselves to exhaustion and then death.

The Autobots are being so careful, but they nevertheless have a ship-wide containment breach. Ratchet, who benefits from his long history of exposure to every contaminant under the sun in his role as the longest-serving front line medic of the war, experiences only partial immunity — just enough to know that the toxin will kill them all if he can't make an antidote.

Ratchet is in for a very, very long shift, starting with getting Optimus Prime's giant paws off him, no matter how enthusiastic his sensory network is about their presence...

#tf fic ideas #maccadam #autobots #sex pollen #ratchet #optimus prime #ratchet has the willpower of a saint and should get a prize for resisting temptation. i'm just saying.#optiratch

138 notes · View notes

mychlapci · 5 months ago

Note

Magnus’ pretty little Doll has a new show he can’t stop watching! One of those talk show type deals, but for ambitious mechs like himself. All about making friends and influencing people. Which is just what Sentinel needs to know to help him become the Magnus when his Ultra finally retires. He likes to watch it on his breaks, getting so sucked into the material that sometimes Ultra Magnus has to gently remind his secretary that they have work to do. It’s just that the voices are so firm and authoritative, but never too harsh! The colors are so pretty, and the music just quiet enough not to be worth taking further notice of.

“No one likes a self-absorbed mech.” Sentinel learns one day, and can’t help but start to listen when other mechs talk about themselves. Never inserting himself unnecessarily—he’s becoming a wonderful listener. Mechs need to feel like they can trust a Magnus, and love to feel listened to. His coworkers always light up a little when Sentinel asks about whatever they were telling him about last.

“Service is pleasure.” Another important lesson! Sentinel’s a quick learner for this one: his Magnus always has something for him to do, and the jolts of arousal he feels when he’s called a good bot prove this true. Suddenly he’s calling the people who come to the Magnus’ office things like ‘sweetspark,’ and ‘dear,’ as he fixes all their problems with his secretarial expertise. Subtly grinding his panel against his chair as the Magnus watches with an approving smile.

“To be powerful, you must first be popular.” This one is harder, Sentinel thinks. He’s helpful and friendly, now, but not popular. Is he too unapproachable, working directly with the Magnus? He starts making an effort to be seen in public, available and approachable and so very pretty in his skirt. Did you need something? Can Sentinel help you? You’re so funny, so smart, so strong. It won’t be long before everyone is a little in love with the Magnus’ secretary. They’re already forgetting what a proud aft he used to be, falling for the sweet smile and simpering. It only makes sense that this delicate thing left the Elite Guard to be a secretary—the poor thing must have been so stressed and frightened with all the fighting. In a few years, the fact that Sentinel ever was in the Autobot Army will be completely buried.

Every episode is a new revelation, and Sentinel couldn’t be more pleased with the results. His image has never been so widely approved, and his wonderful Magnus can’t stop praising him. He loves when Ultra gets like this, petting and stroking his Doll’s node under his skirt while Sentinel watches his newest episode. He rewards the old mech by rolling his hips, calipers cycling down around the Magnus’ huge spike. Sentinel’s getting better at taking it every day, and this time he’s sure will be the one.

“A dependable mechanism is always ready and willing to serve at a moment’s notice,” the episode begins. By the end of it Sentinel is drooling from a simpering smile as the Magnus pumps a load of transfluid directly into his gestational tank—Sentinel had finally taken the whole thing, and it just barely kissed the back of his valve. Ultra Magnus had ‘accidentally’ broken through his seal with one hard thrust, and the feeling was indescribable as Sentinel overloaded hard.

He needs to feel this every day. He NEEDS his Magnus’ spike filling him so completely, transfluid surging into him to make his trim belly swell a bit. Just so he can prove he did it, that it happened. Vaguely he remembers protesting a bit when Ultra’s tip breached his seal, but the old mech’s praise whispered in his ear had turned him to putty.

“Oh, Doll, my pretty girl. Taking all of my spike,” Ultra had purred, “such a good mech, Doll, my perfect little Doll. You love this don’t you? It feels so very good to be full, doesn’t it?” Sentinel had melted into him, moaning his name and grinding hard against him. And the multiple overloads had proved the Magnus right!

On the other side of things, Ultra Magnus couldn’t be more pleased. Sentinel’s almost ready to become a good little wife for the Magnus of Cybertron. Nobody can believe this pretty little thing was ever a guard. All that’s left is to get him pregnant so that they can transition him to wanting to be the Magnus’ wife instead of the Magnus. And, of course, training him for those duties. But Sentinel is such a pretty bot, now. Always in a sweet little skirt that barely covers his panels, teasing mechs to look and maybe sneak a pinch of his aft. Nails painted eyecatching colors so that everyone’s optics are drawn to the way he sucks at them, or his stylus. The way they trail against his thigh.

The false spike on his desk chair was a stroke of genius. Sentinel rides it whenever he isn’t full of the Magnus, unable to cum without permission but constantly pleasured and full of charge. Eager to serve Ultra, and able to come just from sucking the Magnus’ spike. Sentinel’s panels stay open in the office, but Ultra’s taught him that good girls keep them locked up at home to keep him from playing with the Magnus’ toys… and to keep him from washing the transfluid out.

The next episode of Sentinel’s favorite show will be “Good mechs contribute to the future of Cybertron,” and will hopefully install a brand new breeding fetish to help things along. That one won’t be public release—the council is already working on the propaganda for the breeding program. Not that they’ll call it that. But Ultra’s pretty Doll deserves to be eased into his new life in ways that cater to his needs. He’s about to be the wife of the Magnus, after all, he deserves spoiling. Especially when he begs for Ultra’s spike so prettily, curtseying to show off his wet pussy. Belly still a little swollen from the last round.

It’s good to be the Magnus.

hrghh... Sentinel is right on his way to becoming a dainty little wife, and he doesn’t even realize it... He’s so focused on becoming the perfect candidate to replace the Magnus that he doesn’t even notice how much he's changed, that he's gone from an ambitious member of the elite guard to dumb thing in a skirt <3 Slowly, his desire to climb the ranks is erased from his pretty little helm, replaced by the need to serve the Magnus with his intake and valve. What he always wanted, from the day he began to work under Ultra Magnus, was to become his wife, and to carry his heirs <33

That little hypnosis file meant to give mecha a breeding fetish is a test-run only, but it was extremely effective on Sentinel. He'll be cradling a big belly in no time, with people rubbing it and congratulating him wherever he goes. Ultra Magnus couldn't be happier... now they know that the hypnosis program works and he gets a wife that wants nothing more than to attend to his need out of it. He wasn't fond of Sentinel before, but seeing him get turned into a pleasant housewife was extremely satisfying <3

#valveplug #pregnancy mention #dubcon #hypnosis #texty #wifefication

54 notes · View notes

weird-sides · 28 days ago

Text

My friend @tokay-blog and I are developing a shattered glass theme on transformers prime. A lot of thought and consideration.

But we had a special fun with Airachnid and Breakdown. In general - in the mirror they turned out to be a couple x) Where the big guy protects his violet, because the spider has a very gentle character. They also got a very sad and dramatic story. When Mirror Breakdown fell in battle - Airachnid fell into grief and despair, mourning her lover to the last. And even when she was bricked up deep underground by the mirror Autobots - she continued to think of Breakdown constantly, in parallel building up rage and hatred against those whose fault it was. By that point, Airachnid was already carrying an experimental virus introduced by the mirror Ratchet. The combination of this virus with the wildest breaches in her soul had a horrifying effect on Airachnid, as she began to turn into a spark-eater whose mind was gradually decaying. And only a fierce desire for revenge remained alive somewhere deep inside her and guided the monster.

#fanart #traditional art #artist on tambler #transformers #transformers prime #shattered glass #airachnid #tfp #fan art #art #traditional drawing #paints

26 notes · View notes

fourphoenixfeathers · 1 month ago

Note

oooh

and how did the whole first thing go, like what led to megatron falling to the earth in a fiery crash?

and how did all the other cons react?

teehee :3 The other cons took it so well I prommy (lying)

The moment the Nemesis picked up readings of a massive amount of energy coming from the wilds of space, they beelined straight for it. Even if they weren't sure if it was the allspark or not, they would be all over any power source to supplement their dwindling supplies, on the run as they were.

Once they get closer, Blackarachnia confirms that it is what they think it is. Megatron sees that the ship it's on is a minimally staffed repair ship, and he decides to go in alone. Starscream insists on going along, as they shouldn't underestimate their opponent, and Megatron relents.

Megs orders Blackarachnia to keep the ship ready for a quick getaway, and he and Starscream nyoom off to steal the allspark. Well. Is it stealing if life is the right of the whole of the cybertronian race? Starscream was right to come along, though, bc the repair crew def has a lot up their sleeve. 101 and Ratchet hold off Megatron using the ships controls, and Bee and bulkhead run into Starscream sneaking around while they are trying to find the breach.

Remember that one bit late in the show about civilians not being allowed to have combat-grade weapons? yeah, I don't think the sg bots would have any problem with that. Bee and Bulkhead might not be programmed for combat, but they have weapons and they have the home field advantage, so they give Starscream a run for his money. It doesn't help that Starscream isn't exactly made for close quarters combat.

Megatron is. Also having a time. He blows a hole in the bridge, which sends the ship spinning through the space bridge with Megatron and Starscream still on board. Then it's three on one in the control room, and while Megatron has a lot more raw power, he's not as slippery as his second in command. 101 may be inexperienced but he still has a lot more training than Megatron expected from a space bridge repair crew, not to mention Prowl's cyber ninja training and Ratchet's war experience.

The autobots manage to temporarily incapacitate Megatron with Ratchet's EMP. It won't keep him down forever, but it's long enough to toss him out of the ship as they start descending to earth. Ratchet starts trying to put a temporary seal on the hull breach while Prowl and 101 try to control their descent.

Bee and Bulkhead get a status update telling them the ship is going down, and overhearing the comm, Starscream figures it's time to bail. He runs for it, trying to ping Megatron the whole way. His spark sinks as he gets no response, even as he bursts out into the rapidly thickening earth atmosphere. He snaps into alt mode and tries to slow his free fall as best as he can without his wings shearing right off. He ends up crash landing in the north-east US, in the Appalachian mountains. Badly injured in the fall but not dead, he sent out a distress call on decepticon frequencies before he fell into stasis lock.

On the other side of the space bridge, the Nemesis manages to get away from the blast of the bridge exploding, but the crew is horrified at how bad it all went. For a moment, they fear all is lost. The Decepticons were already running in fumes, and now their leader and SIC are gone... until they receive a barely perceptible distress call, rippling through subspace across the remnants of the space bridge.

The call contains some brief notes about the mission status, Starscream is severely injured and Megatron is unresponsive, as well as some quick preliminary scans that Starscream did of the planet he's on. It was night at the time he landed, so he couldn't narrow it down to what star system, but he was able to get pictures of the night sky, determine the planet had a solitary moon, and determine the atmospheric composition. Blackarachnia immediately sent the images to a decepticon astronomer to pinpoint the general area of where Starscream was, and then set off to go get him, and hopefully, Megatron.

The only reason the remaining cons haven't fallen apart from grief and despair is the fact that they have a rescue mission to launch and an allspark to find. Megatron may be gone, but with Starscream and the allspark, their movement may just have a chance.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers animated #transformers shattered glass #sga au #tfa megatron #tfa starscream

22 notes · View notes

tinydefector · 3 months ago

Text

Saviour

Prowl & Male human

Warnings: Vent Fic, Angst, talk of dead parents, police investigations, documents over accident,

Word count: 1.9k

Before reading: This fic is mainly a self insert for myself, I write to help cope, and we'll Prowls one of my comfort characters. So if you don't feel comfortable, don't read. This was mainly just self-indulgent for myself and to try and help me heal over this situation I am currently in.

Request are open, please see my masterlist pinned post for rules or other fics

________

A young human stalks through the Autobots base, many bots giving a puzzled look as he storms past, barely acknowledging them. They can see the tear marks on his face as he walks by but any call from them falls on deaf ears and he stalk further into the Arks halls.

It's only when he arrives at the large set of doors does he finally stop for a moment, taking a deep breath and walking into the office room. Prowl is sitting at his desk looking rather annoyed to be disturbed when the young man storms in. Prowl lifts his gaze from his data pads, bright blue optics focus in as the human enters his office unannounced.

He takes note of the tear marks and heavy breathing, signalling the other's distress. However, as SIC of the Autobots, his time is limited and responsibilities many, and he didn't have time for this. "State your business," he says evenly, optics flickering back to the multiple screens as he scrubs through data while also running diagnostics and calculations. "How may I assist you?" He hopes this is a matter of true importance, and not merely the twins causing issues again, he had enough on his roster without them ruining his schedule.

the young man took a shaky breath before speaking. "You're a Tactician, and work with the police force here on Earth?" They ask, staring into his optics pleading.

Prowl stills for a moment, optics flickering back to them, a low hum resonates from his engine as he debates if this is really worth putting on his work to entertain the human’s inquiries. turmoil is rather visible to the bot. "You are correct. I assist the Autobots by providing strategic analysis and planning, drawing from my previous experience in the Cybertronian enforcement corps." He replies, his lips forming into a thin line as he stares them down.

"Are you able to get access to police records and information not available to the public?, and are you under the same restrictions as human police with information?" He can see the desperation on the young man's face, he knew people didn't come to him for things, and the fact of how riled up and desperate the human looked, something was up.

"Accessing classified law enforcement files without due cause could compromise ongoing investigations and is highly illegal to bribe for information" he replies firmly. "As an officer, I am bound by the protocols and restrictions of that position."

He can see the desperation in their expression, yet allowing emotions to sway his judgement would set a poor precedent. "Explain your need and I will evaluate whether accessing such data is worth my time. But understand that my role is one of procedure, oversight and lawful conduct. Mere personal matters do not warrant breaching security protocols." His optics remain fixed on the human, silently prompting them to provide a reasonable rationale before he makes any decisions. Emotion will not compel him on such a matter.

The young man sighs looking defeated, "it's not an ongoing investigation, I just want a report that I keep getting blockaded over. I've tried going the legal route, tried getting in contact with the investigation team, but no one will talk to me." They state, he can see them dancing around the subject. And it makes him rather on edge of what information they could possibly be looking for, he knows some of the humans with the Autobots have rather sketchy past mainly Raoul. But the evasion doesn't sit well with him.

As SIC, protecting sensitive data and maintaining lawful conduct is paramount to his position. "Emotional appeals will not sway me from my duty," he replies crisply. "Your personal affairs, while no doubt important to you, do not merit risking classified files without clear cause pertaining to the Autobot mission or threat assessment. If authorities have deemed the matter closed, I suggest accepting that."

His optics narrow slightly. "Either provide specific details to justify accessing records, or this discussion is over. Vague suspicions benefit no one. My role is to uphold order and protocols, not enable frivolous adventures or satisfy idle curiosity at risk of my position or partnership with our human allies."

Prowl keeps his tone neutral but firm, brooking no argument. He turns back to continue typing away, he can see the young man sitting his lip, looking around, he looked as if he was a caged creature.

"I want the Accident Report on my mother's death, and the Coroner's report" the young man finally states, the quiet of the room is almost deafening as the young man stares at the floor trying not to start crying again, his eyes already puffy and red from the last time.

Prowl's doorwings shift thoughtfully upon hearing this new information. A deceased relative's case was not what he was expecting. His optics dull slightly as he watches their movements. "I see." His tone softens marginally. "However, accessing closed files still requires due process. What makes you believe the reports you seek were improperly withheld?"

He places his digits together, optics remaining fixed on the human. "Explain your rationale. If you suspect foul play or cover-up, I will review the circumstances officially. But I cannot act on mere feelings or to indulge mourning. My role is to facilitate law and order through protocol and facts. Convince me your request is warranted." Prowl remains poised.

"No, no nothing like that, like I know why she's dead I know what happened. I'm getting blockaded by my mum’s boyfriend out of spite because he didn't get my mums super, so he's been doing everything he can to make it seem like my siblings and I aren't part of the picture to the point I have sent multiple emails, certificated copies of identification to police, investigations teams and other people just to try and get these reports and I've been dealing with this for months, I just want some paperwork stating what happened instead of everyone's theories and lies." He starts choking up a bit as he explains the situation. By all means he had done everything legally, but still had nothing, he wouldn't even be asking this of Prowl but he had exhausted all his resources.

Prowl listens closely, processing this new context. Clearly emotion runs high in this private family matter. While personal vendettas do not concern him, withholding lawful documentation to undermine grieving kin is another matter. "I see. Harassment and obstruction of legitimate requests is intolerable." His doorwings flick slightly. "Providing your identification and relationship is documented, accessing the files you seek should not be denied. However, the appropriate channels must be followed to avoid further issues."

He swipes away from the channels he was monitoring and flicking over to another Web, typing away quickly and he begins starting a search file. His optics meet the human's calmly. "Supply me with the details necessary to verify your claims. With that, I will contact the enforcement team associated with this case. to request the situation be properly resolved and the requested reports." He states plainly as if it was something he could do rather simply and it nearly makes the young man want to start sobbing.

He gives the details, and other information Prowl requests, the exhaustion on his face is very visible. If anything he looked worse than Prowl had ever seen a living human before. It makes Prowl soften for a moment as he moves from his seat towards the young man, He nearly gasps as Prowl gently picks him up. Placing him up on his desk as he grabs a rather large fibre cloth and drapes it over the human as he makes himself busy running details and information hunting.

"Prowl...thank you, I'm sorry I bothered you with this but, I'm just at my limits" they mumble as he pulls the neon green cloth around his shoulders. Sitting on the table close to the cybertronian. Prowl let's out a partial hum and he types away Contacting investigation teams using his Alias as an FBI agent to bypass the red tape that many others would have differently with, Prowl makes the case directly yet discreetly. Ensuring proper verification of identity and claim, he "requests" full disclosure and closure of the matter. And personally requesting all documentation and information over the case.

Soon after, he looks down at them. "It is done. The reports should be processed and the request sent to my file in the next lunar cycle. Let this ordeal be over, till then I'd recommend proper recharge, your frame is rather dishevelled." He promised that this would be over the moment he got the files. And if he had to he would personally deliver them to the young man. Prowl acknowledges the human's gratitude with a respectful nod. "You have endured more than enough. Your request was reasonable and deserved seeing to."

As the man settles with the protective covering, Prowl returns his gaze discreetly to his work shifting from his data collection, ark status reports and also monitoring local radio chatter as he continues flicking between them. With matters now progressing as intended, Prowl's processor. The young man sits there quietly; it makes Prowl wonder, he never looked into how he had come into being one of the Autobots humans, he wasn't very social with many including the other mechs.

He knew the basics, He was aware Beachcomber had been the one who had brought the young man in and the two a rather close. did anyone else know about this part of his life or had he kept everyone blissfully unaware. Prowl had his own questions now of the little mystery of the human on his table.

his attention shifts to backlogged files on this individual's integration among the Autobots. Cross-referencing records show their association, though specifics are scarce.

Turning to address the man, Prowl inquires, "Your partnership with us began through Beachcomber, yet details remain undefined. How did you fall into the custody of the Autobots?."His tone remains calm and professional.

The young man lets out a soft noise as if embarrassed over it. "Ahhh it was so fucking embrassing!, I was out in the middle of nowhere because who else would be out there because I just wanted to be away from people so I could scream and just melt down and this blue beach buggy just comes out of nowhere, while I was having my moment and he scared the shit out of me, transformed gave me a panic attack, calmed me down and we just kinda sat together for a few hours" he explains, "umm since then he kinda kept an eye on me, think he thought bring me here would make it easier to keep tabs on me, he's good like that"

Prowl listens with keen interest, storing the new data point about Beachcomber and Their unorthodox bonding. "I see. Beachcomber does have a way of drawing organic lifeforms under his circuitry, it seems." A flicker of amusement enters his tone - rare, but this tale piques even his logical sensibilities. It goes quiet between them for a while before Prowl finally speaks again.

“Your welcome to stay for a while. Please don't distract me while I work, Optimus has me running multiple reports” he hums, quickly typing away. “Thank you” he mumbles softly as he presses against Prowl's side. Just enjoy the quiet of the office, and Prowl works.

___________

Let me know if you would like to be added to tag list (tagged for every fic)

Taglist

@angelxcvxc

@saturnhas82moons

@kgonbeiden

@murkyponds

@autobot79

@buddee

@bubblyjoonjoon

@chaihena

@pyreemo

@lovenotcomputed

@mskenway97

@delectableworm

@cheesecaketyrant

@ladyofnegativity

@desertrosesmetaldune

@stellasfallow

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa

@shinseiokami

@tea-loving-frog

@aquaioart

@daniel-meyer-03

@pupap123

@dannyaleksis

@averysillylittlefellow

#transformers #transformers idw #transformers x human #transformers x reader #mtmte #transformers lost light #transformers gen 1 #transformers generation one #g1 transformers #prowl idw #prowl transformers #idw prowl #transformers prowl #prowl #prowl transformers idw #tf prowl #prowl x human #prowl x reader

39 notes · View notes

cinnamonroll-anon · 11 months ago

Note

Hi! If it's okay to ask/request, could you do TFA Decepticons and Autobots, of your choice with Human Reader? Can be romantic/platonic

Reader's a fan of fnaf-related, from games, books, lores, movie, etc…

A/n: Absolutely Anon, thank you for the request! Sorry for any grammatical errors or making the characters to OOC. Sorry for any misinterpretation of the prompt anon, these can be seen as platonic or romantic (sorry for not including the fnaf movie, i haven't seen it and it wouldn't do justice to write about it, but I'll definitely go back and write the headcanon after i watch it)

TFA Autobots/Decepticons x GN!Fnaf Fan Reader (Platonic/Romantic)

Optimus

At first he would think it was based off of real events, in which you've had to remind him they're not. It's just a videogame

I think he'll find it odd how you could be so interested in something entirely fictional (he's not judging tho, man is a history nerd and he knows it) he may be just a bit concerned in the beginning

But it all shifted when you mentioned the books

That peaked his interest and you give some recommendations on the first ones to read. Obviously reminding him that what happens in the books doesn't happen in the games

I feel like he's a night owl and will definitely be reading them late at night. Sometimes you even join in and it becomes a fun little geeking out session, especially when he has so many questions and you're happy to answer

Ironically more into the horror aspect of fnaf (especially in some of the books because damn, messed up shit do be happening) and he's eating it all up fr (rip matpat mpreg that he read because, you little shit, you'd definitely tell him about it. Man was beyond flabbergasted and also learned about the theory side of fnaf) (definitely one was to make an impression 💀)

I think he's definitely more of a casual fan of fnaf

Bumblebee

Probably the most open to learning about your interests, especially fnaf

He thought it would be something simple like the video games he's played while on earth, boy was he wrong

You've got him hooked on the lore, it confused him at first but you guided him through the most confusing bits, like not canon works like the books, security breach, the peak of the fandom etc.

You guy's definitely watched "An Undeniably Canon Five Nights at Freddy's Timeline" and he was definitely hollering while watching it with you and it helped him understand the lore just a bit better (bonus that y'all watched it like a movie night!)

In absolute awe of the Fnaf songs, each one is a banger

He'll definitely ramble about it with you if it's your hyperfixation and he's always happy to learn more about what makes you happy

Bulkhead

More reluctant on it especially because it's in the horror genre and i don't think he takes it too well

He understands the idea and how it can be interesting but you might need to leave out agony and renment, might frighten him too much

Please don't show him the VHS tapes, that'll certainly scare the color off of him

He listens to the songs and thinks the community is very creative

Definatly likes the more cute and wholesome side of fnaf

Overall he's open to you but be mindful of his heart, he's a softie

Prowl

I feel like he may be the hardest one to introduce to but it's not your fault, it's bumblebee's (He's bothered prowl with videogames and stuff before)

But i think he'd give you a chance, seeing that he cares alot about you and this means alot to you

I think he'd be more intrigued with the horror mechanics of the game, learning how a mix of jumbled sounds and scenes could scare someone

He'd be down to play it/ watch you play it/ watch gameplays

He definitely jumps ip from the jumpscares. In his defense he was caught off guard

Overall he'd be supportive, listening to you explain the convoluted story and all the details

He'd remember just about everything you tell him. It's how he shows he cares, actively listening and remembering things you like

He'd find it cute how you like fnaf so much, reminds him of how focused and happy nature makes him

Ratchet

He at first waves you off, saying that he's to busy or tired to care

But this guy's got a soft spot for you

So he might not take the deep dive into fnaf, but he definitely listens to you

He'll let you ramble while he's working on something. Sometimes you feel like you're being overbearing and stop talking, he notices of course, "I'm still listening, this William guy sure is a piece of work"

He remembers everything you tell him, so you find yourself over the moon when he remembers some reference you said like a month ago

Finds himself pleasantly surprised that it's more interesting than just a horror game, but i feel like he'll deny that (but watch him ask what else happened)

Blurr

He probably is taking this more seriously than what he needs to, but you appreciate it

"So you're telling me that the sorrow he felt for losing his youngest son led him down a desperate path that ended up killing his own daughter on accident, but by then he was so broken he killed Henry's daughter, while also pushing away his eldest son, which would lead up into Micheal vengefully chasing down his father until Henry managed to trap everyone and put an end to Williams torment on all his victims and family?" He'd practically babble almost incoherently fast

Yeah that's practically it

He'd definitely like the more theoretical parts of Fnaf like how William had gotten away with it that long, why they didn't find the body's, etc.(he's practically a police officer as well, this is all up in his alley)

He's a quick learner and basically devours everything you show him, both invested and interested to learn why you love it so much

He found his answer and a hyperfixation!

Megatron

Being on earth for as long as he has, just collecting dust and not being able to go anywhere is pretty crushing... And boring

He'd listen to you ramble on the premise that he's so utterly bored that he'd listen to just about anything

He'd be on the edge of his seat waiting to hear what happens next, he'd be interested if you also showed him just about everything

He'd grow used to it and doesn't sincerely care what anyone else thinks, letting you ramble and just enjoy yourself

He'd be lying if he didn't say he enjoyed that time together

He'll let you sit on his shoulder and just go off

He's basically unfazed by it but enjoying it

Starscream

Probably freaks him out ngl but he'd shake it off under the impression that he couldn't be afraid of such a silly human story

Oh boy wait until he hears about the spring lock failure

But as much as it would freak him out man is invested to know everything

He'd jump up and scream at the jump scares when watching the gameplay. Every. Time.

He'd be in a love-hate relationship with fnaf, loving the complexity but hating the horror aspects

Honestly you rambling about it helps ease him into it, you're calming and so happy when you talk about it

Black Arachnia

Might not be as interested in the beginning, halfheartedly listening until you mention Springtrap

He reminds her of herself, an abomination both organic and technology. Both painful experiences and the agony of never being what they once were

She ends up enjoying listening to you explain how agony and remnant works. It's reminds her of her experiments to return herself to normal

She'd listen to you as she works, using your voice as a way to ground herself as she works

Definitely shocked at the family drama, but she loves the tea

Overall happy to be able to have one more thing to talk to you about.

Blitzwing

He's having a field day

"Such interesting methods of disposing the bodies- Yeah, what a cold hearted killer- Oh! Killer like the music!"

His three sides are all equally interested in it, job well done!

One is analyzing the crime aspects, one is taking the story at face value, and of course the other one is just as/ if not more ecstatic about it

He loves it and loves learning more about it and rambling with you

Will listen to a Fnaf playlist with you happily, especially because it reminds him of you

Idk but something tells me he'd laugh at the jumpscares, thinks the suspense is funny

Lugnut

He's surprised you fan remember so much about Fnaf. Like theres just so much

I feel like he'd boast about how much you know. "Look at the genius before you, they know more about this subject than anyone!"

He's super supportive

He'd drop just about anything he's doing to give you his full undivided attention

If you sometimes forget that you've already told him something and say it again you're doing him a solid. He doesn't have the best memory but hes enthusiastic!

He's proud of you and isn't afraid to show it, as you shouldn't be afraid to share of what you like with him

Shockwave

Man has been working on the clock for ages. I feel like when he'd listen to you introduce him to fnaf he was honestly so overworked and stressed that he just needed a distraction

And indeed it was a distraction

If you're the type to go into long rants for hours, sign him up

Definitely asking questions and just actively indulging with you

It's honestly adorable

If anyone asks what you're doing at his desk, he'll just shoo them off saying that you're a key part of his work

He's interested, hooked and loving it

Show him the music and that's a new guilty pleasure for him. He listens to them while he works quietly, never thought he'd enjoy it so much

Definitely eager to learn about everything; books, games, you name it, he wants to know

Loves spending more time with you, especially bonding over your interest!

Back to Nav

138 notes · View notes

askvectorprime · 3 months ago

Note

Dear Vector Prime. Is there a universe where Optimus Prime took the lives of all Autobots and Decepticons?

Dear Morbid Machiavellian,

While the scenario you describe is rare, I am aware of one universe where such an event occurred. In this reality, both the Autobots and Decepticons fought against the Liege Maximo and his Maximal Empire—but their fighting was for nought, as the tyrant had merely been biding his time until his ultimate weapon was created. The Liege Maximo had manipulated the arrogant Jhiaxus into creating a pulsewave generator that would instantly kill any Cybertronian who it touched, and when he unleashed this "death wave", the Autobots and Decepticons alike were wiped out. The lone survivor was Optimus Prime—the Matrix he carried in his chest protected him from the wave's effects, at the cost of its crystal core being extinguished.

The Liege's aim was to cause the mass, simultaneous entering of millions of Cybertronian life-forces into the Realm of All Sparks, creating a breach that he would be able to use to transcend from material reality into the cosmic spheres... and he would have succeeded, if not for the actions of Optimus Prime. Acting on instinct, Optimus opened the emptied Matrix, drawing all the released sparks into it; he took the lives of all Autobots and Decepticons into his own body, protecting them from the Liege Maximo's predations, and evolving him into the mighty Optimus Primus.

With the life-force of all of Cybertron coursing through his body, Optimus Primus took the Liege Maximo on in single combat, eventually breaching the villain's chest and revealing his spark to the world. Optimus opened the Matrix once again—but this time, a single force emerged: the ghostly essence of Megatron. Furious at having been used for another's schemes, Megatron tore the Liege Maximo's life spark from his body, and dragged it screaming into the under-void: the space below even the Realm of All Sparks, from which no light can ever emerge.

In the aftermath, Optimus relinquished the power of Optimus Primus, returning the sparks of the Autobots and Decepticons to their bodies. A few chose instead to pass on to the Realm of All Sparks, feeling their time had come, while others remained within the Matrix, wishing to pass on their knowledge and wisdom to the next generation of Cybertronians after the war. And one, Starscream, was trapped in a limbo state—having fled from the pull of the Matrix, he was left as a ghost, unable to be returned to his body or to pass on to the realm beyond.

#ask vector prime #transformers #maccadam #marvel transformers #generation 2 #liege maximo #optimus prime #megatron #starscream #primus #transformer afterlife #matrix of leadership #thirteenth13prime

38 notes · View notes

hexusproductions · 4 months ago

Text

The Devotee (Knightformers)

Word Count: 7830

Summary: Seconds ticked by as the two men stared at each other, two immovable objects removed from the unstoppable forces which formed their respective worlds. Optimus knew that dealing with Shockwave was difficult, exactly as difficult as he had been to capture in the first place…

One revered, one reviled. Following a long and arduous battle, Optimus Prime attempts to negotiate a heart-to-heart with Shockwave. Whether the twisted Decepticon has a heart at all is an entirely different matter to consider.

Author's Note: Here it is! My entry for @archie-sunshine's Knightformers fan art contest! This was a genuine passion project and I'm very happy to have gotten an opportunity to play in this sandbox he created. I hope you enjoy :)

The once gilded cathedral, like much of the land, had seen far better days. Despite this, the endless war had yet to reach the sun itself, and couldn’t stop its light from shining at just the right angle through the stained glass windows that lined the cathedral wall, painting the hardwood floors in vibrant strokes of red, blue and yellow. The pews had been pushed out of the way, relinquishing plenty of space to the room’s sole occupant. In the middle of the floor, Shockwave rested on his knees, his head hanging bowed. Heavy chains laced intricately across his broad chest and shoulders, holding him down in his current position, and the cold soft glow of a binding circle drawn into the hardwood reflected across the visor of his helmet. When it came to keeping him restrained, no-one wanted to take any chances.

Heavy bootsteps and the drag of a chair seemed so loud that it echoed off the walls, though imagination likely exaggerated its volume in the former silence. Optimus Prime set the chair in front of the binding circle and sat down, knees apart and leant forward enough to rest his forearms on his thighs, hands clasped together. A crease was etched into his brow, and at first he said nothing, watching the captive Decepticon. Shockwave didn’t move, and could have easily been mistaken for a statue…or a corpse…except that the wing-like grey fins which adorned his helmet rose ever so slightly, the only indicator that he’d noticed the Prime’s presence at all. Optimus noted how strange it was that the thin pieces of metal were capable of moving on their own. Then again, much was strange about Shockwave as a whole. He didn’t speak, so Optimus chose to once again break the silence.

“Shockwave.” He greeted calmly, then paused; Giving his captive ample space to say something, and uncertain himself of how to proceed now that conversation had been breached. Optimus hadn’t prepared anything to say while he’d entered the room. No-one else had wanted to be the one to speak to Shockwave, so Optimus had volunteered. It appeared that there was no need for worry, because Shockwave still refrained from speaking. Through the thin gap between his helmet and the cloth veil that hid the lower half of his face, further obscured by a sliver of blue from the illuminated stained glass, one brilliant yellow eye cracked open, piercing into the Prime sitting before him. Optimus lowered his head, meeting Shockwave’s gaze.

Seconds ticked by as the two men stared at each other, two immovable objects removed from the unstoppable forces which formed their respective worlds. Optimus knew that dealing with Shockwave was difficult, exactly as difficult as he had been to capture in the first place…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blades clashed and a cacophony of noise blanketed the battlefield, screams both of effort and of agony. Wyverns threw wide shadows across the decimated land below them. What had once been a large forest had been uprooted and turned to ash, pockmarked by weapons-fire both military and magical.

As always, the Autobots and the Decepticons were locked in conflict. The inciting attack had seemed small and covert at first, but had quickly snowballed into an all-out siege, and soon became worse with the arrival of several members of Decepticon High Command.

Sideswipe’s grip loosened on his swords and a grim expression darkened behind his helmet’s visor. The Decepticon pinned under his boot was completely forgotten as he watched Shockwave step out and over the lip of a still-smouldering crater. His stride was slow, but purposeful. His head turned in Sideswipe’s direction, and it quickly dawned on the Autobot that he was in far deeper than he’d realised when he had first volunteered for this ambush.

Shockwave drew out a glaive, held ready at his side. Its dark blade was wide and tapered, and even while moving, it didn’t reflect the sunlight above, as if it were swallowing all light around it. Such a feat would be impossible for any man-made metal. Sideswipe quickly steadied his grip on his swords and raised them towards the Decepticon. Shockwave was first to close the distance and swung wide. Sideswipe rose his blades to deflect the blow, but underestimated the amount of force incoming and his arms were bludgeoned aside. The vibrations from the impact wracked Sideswipe’s arms and he hissed before Shockwave’s boot slammed into his breastplate. Sideswipe was sent sprawling to the ground, the air knocked from his lungs. Shockwave stood over him. A singular yellow eye burned from within the depths of his helmet’s visor, viciously calculative with Sideswipe in its intense focus.

“I’m coming!” A determined voice called from Sideswipe’s right. Ore rushed in to defend him, peppering low strikes against Shockwave’s leg. One of the grey finials adorning Shockwave’s helmet flicked, like a bull irritated by a fly near its ear, and he spun around with a two-handed strike. The glaive carved through Ore’s armour like butter, cleaving him in two. Sideswipe’s mouth fell open as Ore’s split body flopped onto the dirt, the upper half still gurgling in confused protest. Despite the alarmingly abrupt death, Sideswipe wasn’t granted time to dwell on it, and he quickly looked around for options. He was relieved to see Ironhide throw Dirge aside and charge in the direction of himself and Shockwave, who still stood over him, glaive poised to take another victim.

“I’ve got ya, kid!” Ironhide proclaimed. Forgoing wasting time to draw a weapon, Ironhide instead slammed his fist into Shockwave’s ribcage. The force was enough to stagger Shockwave back a step and Ironhide moved in after him, landing another hit with his gauntlet-clad fist and then two more with a warhammer (which, like Ironhide, was both heavy-duty and hit like a carriage).

Scrambling back to avoid being tread upon, Sideswipe used the opportunity Ironhide had given him. He quickly retrieved his swords from the dirt and jumped to his feet; the once green earth left brown and green stains against his bright red armour, but Sideswipe wasn’t bothered by loss of aesthetic. He thought distantly, as he circled Shockwave, that doing so was his brother’s job.

Shockwave shifted tactics, taking a defensive against Ironhide’s onslaught. He stopped another swing of the warhammer with a two-handed block, then shoved, forcing Ironhide back. Sideswipe hovered around Shockwave’s side, and his eyes quickly glanced down. Ore may have been recklessly stupid, but he’d had the right idea. Sideswipe dropped low and donkey-kicked the back of Shockwave’s knee. His leg buckled involuntarily, and Shockwave’s attention was very swiftly returned towards the culprit as he swallowed down a grunt. Sideswipe chuckled snidely and stepped back out of range of the glaive. He was expecting another wide sweep of the weapon, but he should have paid attention to the blue shimmer swirling around Shockwave’s left hand. Shockwave thrust forward with the hand and a beam of chilling frost hit Sideswipe dead-on in the torso. The beam crystalised on contact, quickly coating Sideswipe in a layer of thick and jagged ice. Something between a gasp and a squawk left Sideswipe’s throat as he struggled against the spell’s effects, trying to wrench himself free. Even his plume felt cold. Ironhide ducked out of the way of another ice beam, tapping a rune engraved onto the collar of his armour.

“Prime? We could use some help!” Ironhide barked into the softly glowing rune, keeping his eyes locked on Shockwave.

Further away, on another part of the battlefield, Optimus Prime avoided a blow from Shadowstriker, causing her to sink her sword into the trunk of a fallen tree.

“Understood! I’m on my way.” Optimus responded into his own communication rune before hurrying in the direction of where he’d last seen Ironhide, leaving Shadowstriker to wrestle her sword out of the tree. Weaving his way across the battlefield, Optimus focused through the endless noise for the sound of Ironhide in particular, following it past a still-dazed Dirge hiding behind cover while he searched for his flying steed.

Optimus was almost relieved when he finally spotted Ironhide’s cropped crimson plume, although any desire to celebrate was cut short when Optimus’s gaze found Shockwave. A frown set on the Prime’s face and he quickened his pace, taking in the rest of the battle - most pressingly, Sideswipe was trapped in place within a jagged piece of ice, arms pulled free and hastily trying to get the rest of himself out. Ironhide was trying to force Shockwave to stay on the defensive, keeping him from attacking the vulnerable Sideswipe.

Crossing the remaining distance, Optimus planted himself between Sideswipe and Shockwave. He raised his shield, axe ready at his side, and his eyes narrowed in determination as Shockwave noticed the sudden arrival of the noble Prime.

Optimus stood firm. Shockwave rose to his full height and his grip tightened around his glaive. A split-second passed, though it felt long enough that it could have been an hour, and then Shockwave thrust a hand up. Another beam of arcane ice shot forward towards Optimus, keen to stop him before he could even act. It wasn’t fast enough to prevent Optimus from angling his shield so it caught the brunt of the impact instead. He braced himself against the force that bore down on him furiously, a gust of cold air rolling past his shoulders as crystals formed around the edges of his shield. The dirt crunched frozen beneath his boots, but when the blast finally subsided, Optimus was unharmed. With the Decepticon’s attention on Optimus, Ironhide charged in with a valiant cry and swung his hammer at Shockwave’s back. Shockwave’s head snapped around and his arm raised just as quickly. Ironhide’s blow collided with the thick vambrace adorning Shockwave’s left arm, taking the hit with an awful clang of metal. Such a hit should have caused ripples of pain through the limb, as he had done to Sideswipe earlier, or even crushed it completely. But it didn’t seem to phase Shockwave in the slightest, and now Ironhide was within arm’s reach.

His armour-clad arm forced past the warhammer and slammed into Ironhide’s face. The crunch of cartilage was swiftly followed by the butt-end of Shockwave’s glaive thrust into his chest. Ironhide snarled and choked, stumbling back as blood dripped from his now broken nose. Optimus’ eyes widened in alarm and he immediately circled around Shockwave, inserting himself back within his opponent’s view - and hopefully, directing his attention onto himself. Although he had also hoped Shockwave would recklessly take advantage of Optimus offering himself up on a silver platter, he instead moved backwards, putting more space between himself and the Autobots he was fighting. A string of muttered words were obscured behind his cloth veil. As Shockwave took his glaive in both hands, its impossibly dark blade began to sizzle and bubble with sickly colour. Shockwave twisted and swung the glaive in a huge two-handed arc, all capable force focused into a single movement. Optimus scowled and raised his shield once more, bracing to take the blow as he had before. The blade hissed as it carved through the air; it hit Optimus’ shield and barely stalled, ripping through first the remaining ice and steel and then onwards across Optimus’s gauntlet behind it.

Optimus hissed as he jumped back, tearing himself free of the glaive’s path before the pain was even fully registered. He narrowed his eyes towards his arm. His shield bent around it, barely still in one piece. Optimus sadly removed it and let it fall onto the dirt. His bracer was split open, and through the gap, he was alarmed to see veins of black swiftly withering up his hand. Optimus gripped the injured hand, and a pained growl rumbled free from his throat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you in any pain?” Optimus asked. The singular yellow eye continued to stare into him. After a slight pause, Shockwave finally spoke.

“...No.” The singular word rumbled in his chest, but it lacked any sort of venom or anger. Shockwave was unexpectedly calm given the situation he had been forced into. Optimus’s gaze fell to the cathedral’s floor, following a natural line in the wooden boards.

“You fought valiantly.” He spoke with a similar tone, low, calm, and genuine. Optimus’ travelling gaze stopped where the line did, halted by the softly glowing boundaries of the binding circle. He skimmed the runes designed to prevent escape, or any spells from being cast, and then raised his gaze to meet Shockwave’s again. He possessed no ill will towards Shockwave either, even despite their opposing sides, and he hoped that this conversation could go amicably for the both of them. “Was there a particular reason behind it? Perhaps something that Megatron was eager to get his hands on, or prevent us from finding?”

The atmosphere wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t welcoming either. Every question came with a following silence, letting it dangle in the air and twist itself until the question itself came under scepticism. The projections from the windows, as beautiful as they were, remained as still as the room’s two occupants. There was no initial indicator of emotion from Shockwave - hardly surprising, but at this proximity Optimus realised that there was no rhythmic rise and fall to Shockwave’s shoulders, or his chest. Shockwave didn’t breathe. Optimus reserved his unease to only his hands, clasped thumbs brushing idly over each other once. Stoicism was an essential tool of a Prime, and Optimus had had many years of practice.

The finials adorning Shockwave’s helm lifted, and his head followed, rising by a slight degree.

“You do not need to pretend to be cordial in order to coax information out of me.” As with his previous response, there was no accusation, only a statement of fact. The corner of Optimus’ mouth curved upwards.

“I’m not pretending.”

“Then it is unnecessary.” The faint clink of chains accompanied Shockwave shifting his position slightly on the uncomfortable floor, the thick iron allowing little freedom of movement, “We have no amicable relationship. We are not friends.”

Optimus’s jaw clenched, and he exhaled deeply through his nostrils. For the first time since entering the room, a shadow briefly cast over the Prime and his already curved posture increased its hunch. But as quickly as it had appeared Optimus pressed it down again, sitting up and steeling his expression. He could feel Shockwave’s unblinking gaze fixed upon him, analysing and dissecting every action Optimus took, and Optimus felt the need to keep tight control of himself; Even though it was only the two of them here, rather than crowds of Autobots looking for his wisdom or his presence. Shockwave carried out his goals with ruthless efficiency, and giving him a possible weak point to exploit wasn’t a good idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The necrosis crept further up Optimus’s wrist, darkening his fingertips. Still clasping his hand, Optimus ignored the pain burning through his flesh and looked around in concern first and foremost for his fellow Autobots. Ironhide lay fallen about a metre back from where Optimus had last seen him, slumped face-down. Optimus’ blood ran cold, but then Ironhide stirred and slowly rose to his elbows. His nose was still broken, and there was a jagged tear across the side of his breastplate, but he clearly refused to be taken down just yet. A deep sigh of relief escaped Optimus, and even though the danger wasn’t over yet, he allowed himself a small smile.

A voice spoke up in the back of his head, reminding him that no, the danger wasn’t over yet. He still had to be their leader. The smile faded from Optimus’ face. He clenched his blackened fist and willed down the pain, standing tall and steeling his expression. As long as he continued fighting, as long as he never wavered, he would inspire others to do the same.

Shockwave’s helm slowly passed over the Autobots scattered around him. The glaive in his hands was no longer bubbling with dark magic, though that didn’t make its razor-sharp blade any more comforting. In this tensely still moment, it was easier to see the dents Ironhide’s warhammer had left in his armour, the mud staining his vestments, and how his finials were pulled further back against his helmet, like the ears of a beast. The Decepticon was not as untouchable as one could have believed…but still he showed no sign of faltering.

“Looks like you three could use a hand!”

Shockwave turned in the direction of the voice, as did the Autobots. Running across the butchered earth to meet them were Sunstreaker and Mirage. Even in the middle of the battle, Sunstreaker’s golden armour was polished to a shine.

“We’re happy to have you.” Honesty warmed Optimus’ voice as the new arrivals took different points; Mirage helped Ironhide get to his feet, while Sunstreaker raced across to free his still-captive brother. With clapped hands and a quick spell, Sunstreaker’s palms heated and melted away the final piece of ice encasing Sideswipe’s legs.

“Couldn’t let me have all the glory, could you?” Sideswipe smiled, despite the slight chatter of his teeth.

With their numbers increased, the Autobots reinvigorated their attack on the lone Shockwave. Optimus was still fully capable with only an axe, and he had four more swords at his aid to help him, all of them united in their goal. Every flourish of Sunstreaker’s blade sang with finesse and magic as he channelled spells through it. Sideswipe found his place at Sunstreaker’s flank, targeting the spots between Shockwave’s plate armour in an attempt to strike a weak spot - or, failing that, piss him off. Shockwave blocked a strike from Sideswipe only for Optimus to hit his front side, battering Shockwave to weaken his footing. Ironhide shook Mirage off of his arm, swiped across the bottom of his nose with the back of his hand, and retrieved his hammer from where it had fallen.

Shockwave stumbled. He gripped his weapon tightly, knowing that losing it would tilt the odds against him even further. His eye narrowed, flicking across his opponents who outnumbered him. He kept his gaze locked on them and lowered his helm, darkening his expression further as he took a step back.

With Ironhide insisting that he was alright, Mirage made a practised motion with his hands, summoning an illusionary copy of himself. The real Mirage vanished, while the copy moved in. It skirted underneath Sideswipe’s arm, vaulted over a singed tree stump, and drew his sword while he circled closer towards Shockwave’s left side. Shockwave’s helm remained lowered; he deflected Optimus’ axe, but his movements became practised, automatic. His finials twitched almost imperceptibly, up then back again. The false Mirage brandished his weapon, a courageous cry building on his tongue as he prepared to strike. Shockwave blocked Sunstreaker’s lunge, and then suddenly, faster than anyone could register, Shockwave whirled around and seized the real Mirage by the throat.

Optimus froze, and the brothers’ eyes both widened. Mirage rematerialised in Shockwave’s grasp, held aloft in the middle of his failed back-stabbing leap. His mouth was twisted into a shocked grimace as he clawed at the hand wrapped around his neck. Shockwave’s gaze bore into Mirage and he squeezed, drawing a choked gasp out of him.

“Put him down, ugly!” Sideswipe growled. Shockwave turned and hurled Mirage further into the clearing. He hit the ground hard and rolled gracelessly a further few feet, coughing oxygen back into his lungs. Optimus’s jaw clenched as he felt he had no choice but to withdraw.

“Keep him busy.” He instructed whoever was close enough to hear him. Ironhide nodded and moved in, allowing Optimus to cross the clearing and get to Mirage. He lay propped by one arm, strands of dark hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and rubbing his throat.

“Are you alright, Mirage?” Optimus knelt down beside him, arm raising instinctively before he remembered his shield was gone.

“Never better.” Mirage deadpanned hoarsely. Optimus placed a hand on his back, offering any amount of support while the knight caught his breath. The furrow in Optimus’ brow carved deeper into his skin as he contemplated the best course of action. Everyone was hurt, and so was Shockwave, but Optimus doubted he would let that slow him down.

Then, the roar of a wyvern echoed above their heads, and Optimus resisted the urge to groan. He settled for a scowl as he looked back over to his comrades. Starscream had arrived, having picked them out in the commotion and eager to stake a claim by lending his assistance. Sideswipe had split from the other two to intervene, dancing around the snarling fangs of both the wyvern and its bow-wielding master.

Optimus looked at Mirage, who nodded and gave a supportive tap to his leader’s shoulder. Optimus returned the nod, stood, and made his way back to the rest of the fight.

The air all but hummed with magic from the increased amount of spells slung back and forth across the battlefield. Sunstreaker was currently providing cover fire to Ironhide from a distance, peppering Shockwave with flames and ribbons of sparkling light while Ironhide took the martial approach. Optimus realised before Sunstreaker did that his cover fire, while effective, was also making him a target.

Fire licked around the edges of Shockwave’s cape as he thrust forward. His glaive carved another piece from Ironhide’s armour, but the Autobot side-stepped and returned with a wide swing. Having been locked into fighting the purple-garbed ‘Con for so long, Ironhide had learnt a thing or two. But unfortunately, so had Shockwave. Shockwave hooked his polearm underneath the head of Ironhide’s hammer, jamming it in place. He adjusted his grip, braced, and then tossed both the hammer and Ironhide aside. Ironhide did attempt to catch himself, but between fatigue and his untreated wounds, he lacked the necessary strength and wound up flat on his back, the world spinning around him as Shockwave disappeared from view.

Shockwave stalked towards Sunstreaker, finials pinned back against his skull. Sunstreaker tensed but raised his sword. He was unaware of Optimus hurrying to reach him, and his thoughts were preoccupied with keeping perfect form as he stared down his adversary. He spun out of the way as the glaive whistled through the space where he had previously been standing. He felt the edge of his cape tear away and Sunstreaker pulled a face, summoning electricity along the length of his blade and jabbing it towards Shockwave. Shockwave waved a hand and the lightning veered around it, crackling around itself before collapsing harmlessly.

“You lack discipline.” The statement echoed low from within Shockwave’s helmet. Sunstreaker bared his teeth and lunged, striking at Shockwave again. He parried and dodged the swings of the glaive, his own blade hitting against the defensive polearm with the grating clack of metal on wood. He was fast and nimble, as was his brother, facing down Starscream and his dragon.

The wyvern may have had the air advantage, but every time it swooped low enough to attack, it gave Sideswipe the opportunity to slice into its red scales. Starscream drew his bow and fired. Sideswipe jumped out of the way with a grin that only widened as it caused the esteemed second-in-command to snarl in frustration. The wyvern swiped at him with her claws and Sideswipe attempted to move again, but his timing was off and he found himself hooked in her grasp. Starscream snapped the reins. His wyvern coiled and clamped her jaws around Sideswipe’s chest, her teeth spearing into his plate armour. Sideswipe screamed. Sunstreaker stole a concerned look towards his brother. The split in focus was microscopic, but it was all Shockwave needed. He wound back, then thrust his glaive forward with the same momentum, deadly force locked on Sunstreaker as its target. Optimus called out in warning, but his body was already moving of its own accord, faster than he could think. He threw himself between Sunstreaker and the glaive, turning to shield the golden-clad soldier from the incoming blow. Shockwave’s glaive pierced through Optimus’ shoulder with an awful sound of severed meat and metal, joined by an agonised scream torn from the Prime himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The chains tightened against Shockwave’s chest as he sat straighter, no longer bowed in quiet calculating acceptance, and the sound pulled Optimus back to the present. His gaze settled more firmly on Shockwave, acknowledging his notice of Shockwave’s movement against his bonds - taking no action to stop him, but making it clear that he was aware of Shockwave doing so. Shockwave gave no reaction of shame or secrecy, and fell deathly still once more in his new position.

“What do you aim to achieve by having this conversation?” Shockwave questioned. Optimus hardly had to consider his answer; he spoke honestly and with no ulterior motive to begin with. The only change to his usual tone was a cordial lightness.

“I hope that by speaking as equals, we can choose the peaceful option.” He turned his hand in a gesture between the two of them. Coloured light criss-crossed his palm, golden and bright in his hand. Shockwave’s yellow eye stared at Optimus, swallowed in the deep void that concealed his face. It never blinked, a discovery which while unnerving, was less surprising after the previous revelation that Shockwave didn’t breathe. Shockwave’s finials stilled, and his wrists tugged where they were bound. This time he made no attempt to conceal that he was testing the strength of his bonds.

“And if I refuse to comply?” His voice being as low and even as it was, it was hard to tell if it was a threat, but it was undoubtedly certain as he tilted his helm ever so slightly towards the room’s entryway, “It is unlikely that anyone wishes to keep me in a hallowed place such as this.” The statement was immediately accepting of itself, and it left a heavy and unpleasant taste in Optimus’ mouth. Optimus frowned.

“You’re just as much a person as anyone else, Shockwave.” The lightness had faded from his tone, returning Shockwave’s certainty with his own - if only to make it clear that he refused to treat Shockwave as any lesser because of which forces he was aligned with. “As long as you don’t cause trouble, you’ll be treated with the respect you’re owed.” Shockwave’s head slid back to face the Prime. He didn’t speak at first, but his finials moved again; They perked up, then slotted back again, relaxing to their natural position. Optimus watched how they twitched and it was something of a relief that this patch of silence felt less pressing than those that had come before it. It seemed as if his promise to ensure Shockwave was given common decency while prisoner was received well. To be honest, that was concerning, but it also meant it now appeared slightly more possible for the two of them to reach an agreement.

Optimus’s curved posture straightened, sitting up in his chair. Its wooden legs scraped slightly as its back touched his, and the cathedral’s light warped with his silhouette, his shadow extending further towards the edges of the binding circle. Sitting tall, Optimus was highlighted in soft golden candlelight and ribbons of colour, as if he were always meant to be there.

“It would be more wise to kill me.” Shockwave’s cold, measured voice cut through the silence like a knife. It was equally as unexpected and chilling as a blade would have been, and Optimus’ expression became stern. Shockwave’s head had lowered, the helmet’s visor emphasising his narrowed eye, and his bound hands were pulled to rest in his lap. When Optimus opened his mouth to speak, to object, Shockwave simply spoke over him, “I am a major threat to you and your fellow Autobots. I will not stop until I have completed my goal and brought eternal prosperity to our destroyed homeland. Given this information, and that I am currently at your mercy, the logical course of action would be to kill me and remove me as a variable.”

The atmosphere had become choked, as if holding its breath, but it didn’t stop the low hum that rumbled in the back of Optimus’ throat. He looked away, though he could still feel Shockwave’s stare intently focused upon him. Admittedly, a similar unreadable scowl set on Optimus’s expression as he considered the advised course of action he had been presented with. On principle, he wasn’t opposed to the idea of executing Shockwave; they were in a war, and though he always - and would always - present an open hand rather than a closed fist as long as he was able, unfortunately there were times where he had no other option in order to prevent further death and destruction. But what Shockwave was suggesting was cutthroat, and thought only of the end rather than the means. It was completely Shockwave’s way of doing things, but it wasn’t Optimus’.

Ultimately, Optimus sighed and let some of the weight he carried sit more visibly on his shoulders.

“I fear that the Decepticons may be too muddled within themselves to ensure Cybertron’s prosperity.” He confessed as he looked back towards Shockwave, eyes flicking once down and up again over his captive form. Quietly, Optimus also questioned whether the Autobot faction were any less conflicted within itself. Decades of war had taken their toll on everyone, and it would likely take decades more to repair their fractured land. The work would almost never be done, regardless of whose hand would attempt to steer the course.

Shockwave, however, didn’t appear to think so.

“That is irrelevant.” Shockwave’s eye narrowed again. “The Decepticons are merely a means to an end.” Optimus’ lips pressed into a tight line as he levelled Shockwave with a dry, sullen look.

“And after you’ve used the Decepticons, what then? What will you do if you do succeed?”

The question actually gave Shockwave pause. His head lowered slightly to one side, as if glancing away while in thought, and the slow twitch of his finials was further evidence that he was contemplating an answer.

“...I do not know at this time.” Shockwave finally spoke. He sat straighter, and Optimus was perhaps one of the few who could pick out the obscured act of reigning oneself under control, before another could see thoughts laid transparently, “My current priority is Cybertron, and I can determine the future once I have achieved that. My own role in that future is largely inconsequential.” The flagrant lack of regard for his own life caused another concerned scowl to appear on Optimus’ face, shaking his head as he took in the full weight of Shockwave’s words.

“That’s not true, Shockwave. You’ve formed connections, found allies during your life. There will be people who’ll notice your absence, whether you believe so or not.”

The eye within the helmet flickered as Shockwave silently noted that Optimus was technically correct. There were a handful of people he had created even brief kinship with; begrudging peers like his fellow commander Soundwave, lower ranked Decepticons who had tried to earn his favour and share in his knowledge, including one notable example of a pink-garbed medic who had gone a step further and attempted to win his admiration. All of them had ultimately discovered the same fact: Shockwave was an abrasive and solitary individual by nature.

Shockwave sunk and his helm lowered as the chains crossing his body weighed down even further. It was as if a long exhale had left his once living, now sealed lungs.

“They are a means to an end.” He repeated, in a quiet and hollow voice.

Beneath his furrowed brow, Optimus’ gaze softened ever so slightly in both compassion and deep dismay. He knew that Shockwave was more than just a vessel for a larger force, even if that force was his own ambition. Optimus was sure of it. Optimus leant forward again, propping an elbow on his knee in order to drag his hand down the lower half of his face with an almost inaudible sigh. He looked down to his own shadow in front of him, as if it might provide some sort of counsel to him.

“For god’s sake, Shockwave, look at what you’ve done to yourself.” Optimus deliberately tried to keep his voice from sounding harsh, but exasperation barbed the words. He internally winced at his own behaviour, but Shockwave hadn’t seemed to mind; the Decepticon was casting a brief glance over himself, quick and flippant like he was inconvenienced by having to do so. Layers of Shockwave’s armour had been removed - both so he could be restrained and to ensure there was nothing dangerous hidden on his person - but even if obscured by cloth or metal, Optimus knew that lines of arcane runes had been engraved into Shockwave’s skin. They were a grim match for the point of a slightly jagged autopsy scar that crept up from beneath his loosened collar. The procedure for becoming a lich was a matter few even spoke about, much less attempted. It was no surprise that Shockwave was the kind of person who could and would see the process through.

“I do not understand your objection.” Shockwave’s finials drew back as he leant forward. “You sacrifice your physical body to serve the war effort as well, and far more freely.” Optimus blinked, taken aback. He quickly tried to hide the expression, but Shockwave’s helm tilted, eyeing the Prime. Optimus cleared his throat and glanced away for a moment, even the slight pause feeling far too significant.

“...By putting myself in harm’s way, I’m shielding others from suffering.”

“Your reply does not disprove my argument.” Shockwave responded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Optimus clamped his gritted teeth shut. The glaive drove further through his shoulder, grinding against his armour. Every strained breath growled through his lips, swallowing down the pain that shot through his torso like lightning. Optimus opened his eyes - unaware that he’d closed them - and looked down. Sunstreaker lay fallen underneath him, staring with wide eyes from between Optimus’ tensed arms. The tip of Shockwave’s glaive had been stopped inches before Sunstreaker’s rapidly rising and falling chest. It would have surely pierced him through if not for Optimus lunging into its path.

Sunstreaker was frozen, eyes locked on the glaive-tip. Optimus’ arms shook and he dropped by a millimetre before forcing his arms to lock again.

“Go!” Optimus barked. The strained but decisive order snapped Sunstreaker out of it, and he quickly scrambled out from underneath his leader. He tore off in the opposite direction, aiming another bolt towards Starscream’s wyvern. The second in command had seen Optimus fall from above and was keen to take advantage, but quickly had to pull back on the reins when concentrated fire zipped past his steed’s muzzle. Sunstreaker didn’t let up, determined to protect Optimus’ prone form, as Optimus had done for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bandages wrapped snug around Optimus’ shoulder hugged against the patched-up wound lying beneath them, as he once more occupied himself with following lines in the floorboards’ woodgrain. Healing spells had already sped along the bulk of the process, but Ratchet had been vocally insistent on not neglecting regular non-magical medicine.

Even without looking, Optimus could still feel Shockwave’s gaze upon him. He lifted his eyes when chains and fabric dragged across the floor; Shockwave attempted to inch forward, failing quickly thanks to his restraints. His expression didn’t change from its slightly angled interest, proving that he was still waiting for a response.

The candles dotted throughout the room continued to burn, and trails of wax slid down to form large droplets at the bases of their holders. Shockwave stared intently at Optimus, and Optimus stared back resolutely at Shockwave. Although the candles had burned down much of their wicks, shortening their own remaining lifespans in the process, their fires didn’t waver.

Optimus’ head tilted slightly lower, jaw clenching and unclenching once. He exhaled in a low, quiet sigh that rose up into his chest and out through his nose.

“I know I cannot speak with you as I do with your leader. …With Megatron.” Optimus eventually spoke. It caused a small, yet deeply felt amount of sadness within him to think that familiarity had long been lost between himself and the man who knelt before him, but there were more important things at stake than dwelling on memories. “But you are still a Cybertronian, Shockwave, and I wish that we could reach an agreement that would ensure everyone’s safety and happiness.” Optimus paused, taking his turn to prompt Shockwave for a response. Shockwave stared at him for a moment, then another, and then his yellow eye flickered as his head rolled to one side. Was that his way of rolling his eyes? Despite the irritated display, Shockwave didn’t pursue their previous topic that Optimus had steered away from, and instead his finials twitched in silent thought.

“I agree that such an outcome would be ideal, but impossible. Autobots and Decepticons are easily swayed by their fickle emotions and short-sighted, self-serving goals. Very few have risen above such failings.”

“You believe you’re one of those few?” It was not a question so much as a conclusion.

“Indeed.” Shockwave nodded. His answer was resolute and certain of itself, as had been every answer he had given before, and every answer he would surely give further. Even while dragged down to his knees, bound in every conceivable method of restraint, Shockwave could not be shaken. As Optimus Prime looked at Shockwave bound within the arcane circle, he saw the thin patches of red and blue light that warped the purple colour of his remaining armour. He couldn’t help but be reminded of the man he once knew, who would frequently change the colours of his armour on a whim, whose emotions would flare just as suddenly as he fought for the betterment of the aligned provinces with a fiery passion. Though much of the man Optimus had once known had been stripped away or twisted beyond recognition, speaking with Shockwave had made one thing certain; That drive to change things for the better still resided deep within Shockwave’s core, and no amount of dark magic could snuff it out completely.

Optimus might have smiled if not for the grim acceptance that he couldn’t get through to Shockwave right now, not like this. Optimus sank slightly in his chair, shoulders kept broad by habit more than conscious thought. He closed his eyes, waited a moment, then opened them again.

“I believe there’s a future for us all, Shockwave. Including you.” Optimus told the Decepticon with a voice that sounded hollow, not unlike how Shockwave’s had earlier. Shockwave regarded Optimus for a long moment, and then bowed his helm as he exhaled. It was almost inaudible, but given that he didn’t need to breathe, the action betrayed itself as deliberate. Optimus rose from his seat, the wooden chair groaning softly at the loss of his weight. He lingered on Shockwave and his bowed head, unable to tell at this angle whether Shockwave was still watching him in return. But Optimus turned away and straightened, ignoring the sharp stab of pain that lanced through his shoulder as he walked away from the binding circle. He heard Shockwave’s metal chains drag against themselves, but with his back turned, Optimus couldn’t tell how Shockwave was moving. He kept putting one foot in front of the other, each step echoing in the silent and empty room of the cathedral. When Optimus crossed the last of the coloured beams of light, the only person left under the stained glass’ worn projections of age-old saints and martyrs was Shockwave, held captive within the faintly glowing binding circle.

Optimus pulled the heavy wooden door closed behind him, now standing in the hallway connected to the room. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, but soon cut the action short when Hound approached to take over watching the Autobots’ prisoner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The edges of Optimus’ vision grew cloudy, muddling the ground underneath him into patches of brown, green and red. With a barely muffled snarl of agony and frustration, Optimus steeled his nerve and seized the blade impaled through his shoulder in both hands. It tugged in his grip - behind him, Shockwave attempted to pull his weapon free, but Optimus held on tight. The blade whined as it scraped against his metal-clad palms, but Optimus refused to let it slip from his grasp. Optimus wrenched himself forward, using the added strength of his entire body trapped around the glaive in order to twist the weapon’s polearm out of Shockwave’s grip. Chest heaving and forcing his legs to steady enough to rise to one knee, Optimus removed one hand to reach around and grab the glaive’s shaft from behind. His shoulder screamed in protest, but he forced his way through it and - as carefully and quickly as he could - pulled the glaive back out of him.

Optimus scowled at the blade, blackened by cursed enchantments. He took the weapon’s wooden shaft between both hands as he rose to his feet. Finding his balance and bracing himself, Optimus slammed the glaive down across his knee. The glaive splintered and snapped in two with a crack that seemed to thunder through the air. Its dark blade hissed, hallowed sunlight shining victoriously across its surface. Dropping both pieces of the broken weapon to the ground, Optimus Prime slowly turned around to face Shockwave.

Shockwave’s gaze burned into Optimus with the concentrated heat of a furnace, his helm low and his finials pinned back. His now empty hands curled into fists at his sides. Optimus stared him down, standing broad and grimly determined, even while one shoulder hung lower than the other. The atmosphere was choked between them, holding its breath as it waited for one of them to move.

Shockwave was the first to strike. Magic gathered in his fist and he catapulted it forward. Optimus dived to one side and rolled, snatching his axe from where it had fallen when he’d shielded Sunstreaker. Shockwave was already muttering another spell but Optimus didn’t give him a chance to complete it, he rushed in and swung, forcing Shockwave to withdraw instead.

The Decepticon had shown time and time again in this battle that he had no intention of holding back. Now, Optimus no longer felt a need to either. He kept applying pressure, charging in again and again, striking with his axe each time. Shockwave raised his vambrace to block an attempted blow to his chest, then seamlessly used the position to bash the thick piece of armour into Optimus’s face. Optimus jolted at the harsh impact against his visor but endured it, gritting his teeth and moving backwards to put distance between them. Shockwave’s singular golden eye seemed to glow as a dozen more points of gold materialised around him, each one as sharp as a javelin. Without hesitation Optimus switched stance and ran, keeping his gaze locked on the projectiles while he serpentined around. Each gold projectile flew with supernatural speed, arcing through the air and grazing the Prime’s heels as he sprinted. If he slowed at all, if he misjudged when to change direction, he knew he would be pierced clean through. The final point lodged itself in the ground, missing Optimus’ ankle by a hair. As it fizzled angrily, Optimus sucked in a breath and immediately rushed inwards again. His axe was ready the moment he was back within close range, and when he landed a retaliating swing to Shockwave’s shoulder, he heard Shockwave growl in steadily increasing frustration. Dimly, Optimus thought that Sideswipe would be pleased to hear about it.

Though Shockwave was holding his own, he had his own fair share of injuries inflicted by Optimus’ comrades, and Optimus was steadily gaining ground. Each step in retreat that Shockwave was forced to make, in order to avoid an attack he couldn’t shield himself against, was another step Optimus met and doubled.

The axe hit him in the ribcage and although it failed to cut through his chainmail, the force behind the strike still knocked Shockwave sideways. He stumbled, then fell to one knee with a grunt of pain torn out of him. There was no attempt to catch his breath as he knelt in the disturbed dirt, and his purple cape lay slumped in charred tatters behind him. Shockwave slowly lifted his head to look at Optimus before him. Optimus looked back at him with a deep frown set into his expression. His shoulder and hand throbbed, dully pleading for attention as his grip tightened on his axe.

“Surrender.” Optimus told him, in the same stern tone in which he had ordered Sunstreaker to run. Shockwave’s eye narrowed and his hands dug into the earth beneath them.

“No.”

The plant life under Shockwave’s palms shrivelled and decayed, choked in a wave that rippled out from beneath his hands. Optimus stepped back before the spreading death could reach his feet, gaze flicking across it warily. Thinking quickly, Optimus jumped the distance between them, hooked the curved underside of his axe around Shockwave’s neck, and with a cry of effort he heaved Shockwave onto his back. Shockwave hit the ground and immediately tried to get up, but Optimus firmly put his boot against Shockwave’s chest, pushing him back down again. Whatever necrotic spell Shockwave had been charging lashed around his hands and arms, and the surface of his armour practically buzzed with energy. Optimus spun the axe in his hand, then brought the butt-end of it down in a single, swift strike to Shockwave’s temple.

The Decepticon fell limp.

The spell shrieked with a hundred voices all overlapping each other as it dissipated into nothing.

Optimus’s eyes remained fixed on Shockwave’s unconscious form, even though his thoughts raced elsewhere. His heartbeat was loud and overwhelming in his ears, blocking out the sounds of battle still raging on in the distance. Somewhere in the din came Sunstreaker’s voice, along with those of a few other mages he recognised, and Optimus robotically removed his boot from Shockwave’s chest and stepped back. He shook his head to clear it while the spellcasters set to work on binding Shockwave before he had the chance to recover, watching with passing interest until one of them turned towards him.

“Uh, Optimus…?” A grimace was directed towards his wounds. “Did you want some help with…those?”

“I’m fine, but thank you.” Optimus replied, affixing a smile over his face as he politely waved down the offer. In the back of his mind, he thought that he would settle for the chance to take a breather, but he knew that there was still more fighting left to do.

Leaving Sunstreaker and the mages to handle Shockwave, Optimus Prime straightened his spine and broadened his shoulders more evenly. He turned and went northward, in the direction of the sound of the next raging battle.

#transformers #maccadam #Optimus Prime #Shockwave #Knightformers #Ironhide #Sideswipe #Sunstreaker #Mirage #my writing #Starscream

32 notes · View notes

littlelightbolt · 3 months ago

Text

Finding Prowl - Chapter Five: Nemo

[55 cycles into capture]

Mabye, Primus had answered his call. The baby's fever broke in the evening, just as the crowds started to dwindle and the skeleton crew remained. The overhead lights had dimmed, signalling night-time in the above world. The worst was over but they weren't out of the blue yet. Muscles atrophied from malnutrition and sickness, the little one was still too weak to move on their own. Being cybertronian, the dim was no bother on their vision but it was still a trek from their cove to the surface of their tank to breach. Prowl had to use his body as a buoy to float the little one as they took small gulping breathes.

In between the surfacing intervals, Prowl was all but left to his thoughts, gazing aimlessly at the other mers outside his glided cage. To recharge now would only invite nightmares, an act that could potentially rob the little one of their recharge. So Prowl opted to settle in for a long night. It wasn't like he hadn't done so before. He simmered in the surrealness of his situation. The little life now here with him. Tired, his mind ebbed and rose with the cries of the humpback mer. There would be no singing for him tonight as thoughts came from all new directions. They drowned him.

'Where were their mother now? What had happened to them? Captured? Killed? What of their pod? How long had the baby been alone for? What had they been witness to?

His ATS concluded that the sparkling would most likely be from one of the small nomadic neutral pods originating around the northern hemisphere. One of many remaining neutrals that hadn't left the planet in time before the collision. War-ravaged Cybertron had been a wasteland. If there was one good thing to come out of the planetary collision millions of years ago, it was the new fuel source it provided. Earth-Cybertron was an abundant resource of which all mecha took their fill. Sparklings while still not common were finally not a rarity to their dwindling race outside of the major factions.

As an autobot and as SIC, Prowl had always been preoccupied. The wars with the Decepticons, dealing with outside operations [the Wreckers], trying to contact what remains of their race beyond the stars and even that one occasion the Quintessons had crashed in wanting to enslave them. He had been at the forefront of those operations. Post war, it had narrowed down to evading humans and keeping the peace on Cybertron. Post war, childcare had never been one of his priorities, nor an option he thought to pursue. He did not have a romantic partner nor any time to invest in one. J....The terror twins and Hot Rod were child enough for him. To be honest, he had never seen a sparkling up until Chromedome and Rewind first introduced their sparkling to the colony and hadn't that done a number on his spark.

Caught in the memory, the words of Ultra Magnus washed over him. "- I think your the loneliest mech I've ever met."

In his tank, he looked over himself. Scars and healing flesh. A shattered mind. He could barely take care of himself most days, how can he take care of a sparkling? Could they even eat solid foods yet?

When he had fed the sparkling kelp, a quick look at the sparkling's intake showed they only had two sparkling teeth jutting out of their top gum. From their size, Prowl assumed the sparkling was more toddler than infant. If the little one hadn't been weaned, he would have to be soon. Milk was not a worry at least. All cybertronians were intersex, but for the majority of cybertronians carrier coding had to be activated by an actual kindling. Being initially a public service servant, Prowl was made with the standard carrier protocols buried in place for the event such as these. Prowl could already feel the changes within him. A good sort of soreness to accompany the many aches. At the most he estimated that it would take at least until the morning for his pouches to fill.

Prowl didn't know how to feel about that. He will experience his first feeding before his first kindling, alone. A funnily sad thought that this was the first milestone that Prowl would share with a little one.

A thought struck him then, a designation. He didn't know the little ones' designation. In the day's events, Prowl hadn't even thought to try and ask for one. 'Could the little one even speak?' Prowl mulled it over looking down sparkling tightly clutching his chest in sleep. Their skin was still slightly flushed, eyes furrowed in their sleep. Mabye, they weren't really of a mind to tell him a designation anyway.

The remainder of the night was spent in silence, his ATS circling around his bare-bones escape plans, his current physical changes situation, the baby, and a designation to call them by. J..... Somewhere in between Prowl dropped off into a light doze.

The early morning arrived without much fanfare, the lights above returned to their usual blistering white. The human staff handover began. Splashing overhead roused Prowl from his rest. Food had arrived. Leaving the sparkling to their slumber, Prowl waited for the humans to back away before approaching the low ledge that served as their interaction platform.

Having been here long enough that rejecting food from them was in the past, Prowl had been a little surprised when the human workers had given him his usual ration of stale fish and a little bottle of milk beside it. Opening the bottle for a quick sniff made him gag. This milk was definitely NOT going into that sparkling's intake. Surely humans knew that much. It irritated Prowl that even with all their research and advancements, of knowing about his kinds general way of life, that they couldn't even synthesis the correct sustenance.

Incompetent fools.

He chucked the bottle back at the pair of handlers standing by the door and managed to hit the one with the badge "Spike W" in the head with it. The human squawked and turned back to glare at him. The absolute hate in their eyes gave Prowl a little satisfaction as he dove back down. He stopped at the entrance to his cove. A quick check revealed his pouches were ready to go, while not as pronounced as a femme's his chest seemed to have more curves to it already. He felt the heaviness in them. It was time. Awkwardly he reached out a hand, gently shaking the little one's shoulder. A couple of shakes made the little one release a little whine that almost made Prowl withdraw. Prowl pushed through it. The little one opened their bleary eyes to glare at him. They gave off a moody huff, curling up further to hide their face in the sand. It was kind of cute. A small smile graced Prowl's faceplate. Sass was a sign that the little was on the up and up in recovery. As new as the situation was to him, sass was a familiar attitude that Prowl could always handle.

The new code within him had settled well enough. It whispered that to recover, the little one needed to eat. Prowl followed along with it's directives, settling next to the sparkling before lifting them up gently into the crook of his arms. The new foreign programming guided his movements. The little one was only surprised by the slight jostle before settling into the new position. With steady hands he didn't know he possessed, he brought the little's intake to his chest and waited. To his relief the little one did as he had hoped, quickly latching on to suckle.

The sensation of something rushing out of him was WEIRD to say the least. Prowl shivered a little as the first drops escaped him. It tilted between being ticklish and soothing, he made sure to hold on well to the little one as he rode the sensations. The little one ate well. With one problem down with minimal resistance, Prowl felt a little lighter in his chest. Silently, Prowl congratulated himself on his achievement.

As the little one suckled, a little hand curled around one of his digits. Seeing and feeling the size difference between them made Prowl's mind stall. Not for the first time, the gravity of the situation seemed to crash over him, yet it felt like distant ocean waves. This sparkling was doing things to him. Things he had felt before in another different light, many vorns ago. It unnerved him a little how quickly he had come to care for the little one, in this cage of stale smells and dead sounds. He had never felt such feelings come on so quickly. Not with Chro....., not with Mesothulas, never with Sentinel. He couldn't remember a time where these feelings were returned in kind either. *Memories of that night, blurred and dizzy with J....... -* Outside his turbulent helm, the little ones' eyes met his, a bright cerulean blue that reminded Prowl of the sunlit surface of the Bering sea. *A certain visor in the sunlight came to mind.* So full, so whole, it was like the sparkling was looking within Prowl, into his spark.

The moment was broken when the sparkling unlatched from his pouch. They wriggle in his hold, as Prowl eased them onto his lap. They looked up at Prowl for a moment before patting their belly. "Pat?" Prowl felt elated, the sparkling could speak! That increased the probability of him being able to care for the sparkling tenfold. "Pat!" They repeated at him, more urgency in their voice. A small smile graced Prowl's faceplate, if the sparkling wanted to be patted who was Prowl to deny that. He began to rub their belly in a circular clockwise fashion patting gently as he went. The little one content went back to their nursing, soothed for now. Prowl moved to settle by the wall of the cove, body faced at an angle to the glass to look out at the growing crowd wandering the site while shielding the little one from view.

What would the others do if they could see him now. The terror twins would probably laughing their asses off. Many people would be loosing some lumpsum currency to smokescreen's betting pool. Prowl hadn't managed to sus out the most recent one but he was highly suspicious that his sex life was a hot topic/ running joke in action.

Optimus.....

What would J...... thin - k- .

Before he could spiral too deep into those thoughts, the sparkling unlatched a second time, pushing away from Prowl's chest. Looks like they had their fill for now. A few pats to the back made quick work of any trapped air in their system. Content and happy, the little one seemed energized enough to try and move out of his hold. With the little one now lucid, Prowl asked the burning question. "Little one, do you have a designation?"

The sparkling wordlessly looked up at him not quite getting his meaning. A questioning wirr came from their lips. Mentally Prowl sighed old speech habits died hard, perhaps he should refrain from using big words for now. "Do you have a name?" He gestured to himself. "My name is Prowl." "Prowl" he reiterated. "Pow" repeated the little one, smacking a little hand onto his chest.

Close enough Prowl figured. "

Yes, Prowl." He now gestured towards the little one, "Name?" The little one took a moment before quietly saying "Blue."

"Blue?" Prowl parroted, puzzled. Their carrier sure picked an odd choice of name for an orca mer. There really wasn't much blue to be had on this sparkling. "Blue!" the child repeated proudly, little hands now patting themself. Having answered the adult's question the little toddler saw fit to push off out of Prowl's hold. Weakly, they swam to the edge of the cove. Prowl watched on, vigilant as Blue fascinated himself with the starfish and shells littered around his cove. Little curious sounds came with every new discovery. It was a refreshing to hear, the vibration of it in the water a soothing reminder that he was no longer just his own. A quick look beyond a sand dune revealed the humans beyond. Blue recoiled like a shot, fear scented the water.

"Blue." Prowl called urgently, hoping to gain the little ones' attention to return. In response to his name, the little mer returned to his side. They snuggled into him, before revealing the item they had in hand. A little red starfish was presented. "Pow" "Pow, look!" exclaimed little Blue. "FisssH" he proclaimed proudly, chest puffed out and cheeks glowy.

Fear turned to joy. The sudden change in mood was like whiplash to Prowl.

Prowl couldn't help but laugh with mirth. "Starfish, Blue." "That is a starfish", he gently corrected. Taking the creature from their hands and placing it on the sand. "StaArfisH" Blue parroted, swimming around the little thing. With his unspent energy, Blue went out to the edge of the cove in search of more things to show "Pow", looking back occasionally to check that Prowl was still there watching him. It was comically affectionate. With each item shown to him, another starfish, a piece of kelp, an unfortunate small fish, affection slowly wrapped their tendrils around Prowl's spark.

It has been 55 cycles since he had any decent company, and despite the circumstance, he was glad to have Blue here with him.

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

Horray! This fic now has a name, and a new face.

#prowl #transformers #jazz #Merformers AU #AU #bluestreak #fanfic #Finding Prowl

21 notes · View notes