#because Soundwave doesn’t have a mouth

[beesinmymoth]

Bringing this to you with the air of a proud cat dropping off an eviscerated mouse

[revelboo]

First sounders is here! I got the shining version, his visor lights up! Literally the coolest thing I own right now

Look at him! Yours has Lazerbeak, too!

Mass displaced mech 18+ 🌶️

Everything Is Alright Pt 57

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Staring at you as you hide your face against his servo you’re still clinging to, he’s frozen. You like him? As in a friend or something more? Needing to ask, but afraid of the answer. Months ago he would have scoffed, likely said ���of course, you do.’ Now? It matters, you matter. “You like Soundwave, too “ he mutters not meaning to say it, but unable to stop himself. Remembering the other’s scent on you and how at ease you are around the communications officer. Your little face gets even redder, hands going white knuckled at how hard you’re holding into his servo. Wants to stop, let it go instead of trying to find a problem. Sabotaging himself like he always does.

• Throat dry in a mix of humiliation that you’re almost sure he didn’t quite understand what you meant and embarrassment because you do like them both and you have no idea how to explain it to him when you can’t even understand it yourself. Wanting them both, falling in love with them both for different reasons. It’s not like you can help it, you didn’t ask for any of this. But he’s just staring at you, disappointed or angry. You’re too afraid to look up and find out.

• Your silence is answer enough and he tips his head back. Remembering Soundwave’s offer to share. Is that why? Doesn’t want to imagine you in Soundwave’s berth, but can’t help it. Jealousy twisting through him as he mass shifts even knowing fully well he doesn’t have the energy reserves to go back later. That he’s going to be stuck and at the mercy of whoever finds him, but needing to touch you. Needing you. You make a startled noise as he catches you to him, burying his face against your throat. “Star, I thought you said you couldn’t,” you murmur words trailing off when he kisses you, servos fisting in your hair. Needing to feel you against him, to prove to you and him both that you’re his.

• There’s nothing gentle about this kiss, his mouth bruising against yours, all heat and demand that you feel yourself respond to. An arm curling around his neck as one of his big hands grips your butt to crush you to him. Denta nip you bottom lip as he rumbles, dragging you down with you him and shifting over you. There’s no hesitation when you spread your thighs for him and he stretches out on top of you. That mouth leaving yours to press kisses and bites against your neck before pulling away. There’s an angry edge in his optics, in the faint trembling of his wings, that mixes unease with anticipation. Then he’s pulling your pants down over your hips, not even bothering with the closure or your shirt. Just reaching to cup you, stroking with his servos until you tremble.

• Servos sliding against you, he frees his spike and shifts between your thighs to bury himself deep in that welcoming heat. Hips rocking as he lets his head drop against your shoulder, enjoying the way you feel under him. Wanting so much more. Has Soundwave had this? Felt your tight heat gripping his spike? Those little noises you’re making as he props himself up and lazily thrusts, have you made them for anyone else? For Soundwave? Your hands find his wings, stroking over them as he ruts against you. Calming himself with the feel of you under him. Sharing? This is his. You’re his.

• Head thrown back, lips parted you lose yourself in the feel of him moving against you, stroking deep inside you. His venting growls, snarls and hitching groans twining with the wet sound of his spike stroking inside you. His mouth brushes your jaw, your mouth, the crook of your neck as you cling to him. Feel his hand gripping your hip as he goes up to sit with his legs folded under him, dragging your hips up, servos tightening as gets rougher, more urgent. Feeling every deep drive of his spike inside you hitting right there at this angle until you’re crying out.

• Wings shuddering as you tighten on him, milking his spike, he manages a handful more thrusts before he’s coming apart and driving deep to fill you. One of his hands hitting the berth near your head as he bows over you, the exertion of mass displacing and then this catching up and dragging at him. Venting raggedly as you curl your arms around his neck, trying to draw him down to you even as he’s trying to not just collapse on top of you. “Star?”

• Something’s wrong, he’s shaking against you, optics glowing dimmer than normal. Head sagging until his helm is pressed against your shoulder and he mutters what you suspect is profanity in Cybertronian before he’s pulling away enough to slump beside you instead of on you. Head turning to stare at you as panic claws up your throat.

• Rumble and Frenzy still haven’t returned from patrol. Servo tapping idly on his desk, Soundwave glances at where Ravage and Lazerbeak are resting. Knowing the two likely know more than they’re letting on. He’s about to wake them and ask when your panic crashes into him, a living thing tearing through his processor. And he’s on his feet, his chair falling back as he strides from his quarters and down the hall. Not running, but focused on that panic realizing it’s not for you. You’re safe, but terrified. Needing him.

• Hands nervously fluttering over him as he raggedly vents, you don’t know what to do or even what’s wrong. He’d said he didn’t have the energy before to mass shift, but he’d done it anyway. Does he just need energon? You have no idea where to get that and can’t even get down from the berth anyway. Hating being so small when all his stuff is so big. “Star, tell me what to do,” you murmur, leaning over him as his optics shutter, open, shutter again at your touch.

• Drifting from energon deprivation, it’s the sound of his door sliding open that rouses him. Tears a snarl from him as he tries to get up, hooking an arm around your waist to drag you behind. Or to try anyway. And then he realizes it’s Soundwave, because of course it is. Baring his denta at the other Decepticon, because like this? He can’t defend himself. Can’t defend you. Can’t stop Soundwave from ending him and just taking you.

Previous

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[korpuskat]

Multitasking

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Megatron/Reader/Soundwave Rating: E WC: 600 Contents: Gender/Sex neutral Reader. kinda dubcon voyeurism, but it's Soundwave so like, what do you expect? === Written for Day 1 of @tf-kinktober2024 but I'm bad at posting things on time lol ===

There were few luxuries Soundwave afforded himself, few that would interfere with his near single minded focus. It was fortuitous, then, that his aptitude for surveillance dovetailed so neatly with his desire for you.

The other members of High Command were perfectly pleased to turn their attention away from their actual duties and to instead busy themselves with their little organic distraction. Not that this was your fault, you are simply so small and delicate and soft in their collective servos. For the record, Soundwave did enjoy when his workload lightened enough for him to be able to be the one cradling you in his spindly digits, even if it was not fundamental to his own satisfaction. Still, Soundwave does resent his fellow officers' inefficiencies, because unlike them, Soundwave can multitask.

With just over half his processor focused on the sifting of actual surveillance data from his Earth-based network, the other almost-half sorts through cameras aboard the Nemesis itself. He calculates the likelihoods on where he'll find you- his schedule dictates you should be awake with your diurnal sleep cycle and when he cross references that with which officers are off duty... It doesn’t take him long. Well below his estimated time in fact to find what he’s looking for. The habsuite is familiar- even from the elevated, unnatural angle of the camera’s lens- and it is occupied.

Soundwave is almost surprised; Megatron is well known among the crew to have no compunction on enjoying his pets anywhere he likes. In his own berth is practically mundane in comparison. But there he is, lounged back against one wall, half-turned with his legs spread. One servo lazily strokes his own spike, his warframe claws drawing thin lines up and down the underside, while his other holds... you.

Soundwave’s fans click on.

So tiny in his liege's palm, Soundwave has to zoom in on the feed, enlarging the image until it’s nearly entirely Megatron’s unpainted plating and the shining sweat on your skin. Soundwave watches you, focuses on how your limbs twitch and twist as Megatron’s glossa glides against your body. You're close, Soundwave can tell from the tremors in your legs, the rise and fall of your torso, how your mouth opens in silent cries. Megatron slows, changes his angle before you can overload. And in the tight frame of the camera, the corner of Megatron’s intake quirks upwards, revealing a few more of his sharpened dentae.

Was he so pleased with your vocalizations, with having denied you? Soundwave zooms out a touch, to capture all of his lord’s faceplate and-

Red optics meet his through the screen, white arpetures burning directly into the camera. His dermals still curled into as much of a smug grin as they can while also licking incessantly between your legs. If you even notice his distraction, you don’t seem to show it, tiny servos clutching at Megatron’s plates in fervid desperation.

::How is the angle, Soundwave?:: To the untrained optic, Soundwave knows his reaction to Megatron's com is nearly imperceptible. Still, Soundwave adjusts his posture, self-aware in the way only Megatron can make him feel.

Now, Soundwave understands that Megatron's unusual position- half turned, legs spread to frame his spike- was intentional. By way of response, Soundwave sends him the feed.

He watches as steam rises from Megatron’s vents, the servo on his spike squeezing at the base, his optics darkening as he watches himself. You, in his palm, have latched your tiny hands onto his digits, body rolling into each teasing lick.

::Join us.:: He orders after a moment. ::And send me the full file after.::

[bloody-bee-tea]

Beetober 2024 Day 28 - A man of justice

This is a sequel to Beetober 2024 Day 1 - Raise a toast and you should really read that one first.

When Hizashi gets back to their apartment, he’s vibrating, as if his quirk is located everywhere in his body and not just in his throat. He tightens his grip on the—too thick—folder in his hand and Shouta better be home right now, because Hizashi fears that if he opens his mouth, if he so much as makes a single sound, he’s going to level the entire block.

Hizashi doesn’t bother taking off his shoes or jacket, his only goal finding Shouta as quickly as possible and some of the tension flows out of him when he sees his dark hair over the back of the couch.

He marches up there, stepping into his line of sight and as soon as Shouta’s gaze falls on him, he activates his quirk. There really is something to be said about being married for over ten years and having known each other for almost sixteen, Hizashi thinks as he slams the folder down on the table.

“Whoever is responsible for this, I want all of them dead,” he says, secure in the knowledge that Shouta has his quirk handled for now but his statement makes him blink in surprise and immediately that thrumming feeling is back.

Hizashi takes a deep breath to center himself.

“We generally frown upon murder in this household,” Shouta carefully says, eying the folder with newfound interest.

“Not any longer, we don’t,” Hizashi presses out, careful to not let his quirk slip and now real worry etches itself into Shouta’s face.

“What’s going on?”

Hizashi sees his fingers twitch, clearly desperate to tug the folder close and see what has Hizashi all murderous but instead of doing that, Shouta continues to look up at him, giving him the chance to explain and Hizashi loves him a whole lot.

“This,” Hizashi points at the certifiable book on their table, “is Hitoshi’s file. The real one, not the watered down version we got.”

His voice is scathing and Hizashi thinks if he could change his quirk’s output, the soundwaves would come out thin and sharp, like knifes, cutting through everything.

“What the fuck,” Shouta mutters, tugging the folder closer to himself. “What do you mean this is his real file?”

“It means that this is a detailed documentary of all the shit Hitoshi went through,” Hizashi snaps out and he trembles in anger when he remembers some of the things he read.

“How did you get this?” Shouta asks, clearly hesitant to open the folder and Hizashi commends him on his good instincts because reading about all of this had made his stomach turn in the most violent ways and he’s going to smother Hitoshi in even more love from now on.

The kiddo deserves it and then some.

“I know CPS hates you but you forget that they adore me,” Hizashi tells him, tapping his foot because all this restless anger in him needs somewhere to go if it can’t come out of his throat.

It’s not even a lie; Shouta works often with the CPS due to his underground work but it’s never pleasant for the CPS because Shouta is a hardass and he doesn’t much care for the proper procedures. His only concern is always the child and the CPS hates him for it.

Hizashi on the other hand is very outspoken about his own experiences in the system and he’s always calling for more funding for the CPS, for better work conditions, pointing out the good they do. It’s not always true, Hizashi knows that, but as long as the CPS remains to be chronically understaffed and bogged down with—sometimes unnecessary—paperwork he can’t expect them to do better.

He has run many a fundraiser for them and he’s on friendly terms with more than a few workers there. It was almost easy, calling in a few favours to get this file.

“How can it be this thick?”

“It’s because it’s all there, are you not listening to me?” Hizashi almost shouts and Shouta glares at him.

“Keep it down, Hitoshi is home,” he chastises him but the only thing that accomplishes is that now Hizashi wants to run off and hug Hitoshi and never let him go again. “Explain.”

Hizashi takes a deep breath, trying to center himself so he can talk for more than two sentences without losing it.

“It’s this thick because it’s a detailed account of everything that happened to Hitoshi. And I mean everything. It’s all there; police reports, injury reports from several hospitals and doctors, witness reports from teacher, neighbours, random bystanders on the street, the police, nurses, doctors and even some CPS workers.”

Shouta’s gaze drops towards the folder again, a frown on his face.

“If it’s all there, then how come no one has ever done anything?” he asks and Hizashi gives him his most feral grin.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” he demands to know and he can already see the gears in Shouta’s head turning.

With this many reports there are not many options as to who could keep something like this under wraps and they are going to find whoever is responsible for this.

Shouta finally reaches for the folder and flips through it; his jaw gets tighter with every page he flips and when he goes pale Hizashi knows he’s reached the medical part of the file.

It’s gruesome, considering the list of injuries Hitoshi has acquired over the years and Hizashi feels sick all over again.

“It was all swept under the rug?”

“Must have, because no one ever did anything, now, did they?”

Shouta continues to flip through the file, his eyes flying over the pages.

“He went through an awful lot of social workers,” he finally notes and Hizashi nods, because he noticed that, too.

And it tells him that someone has definitely tried to keep all of this hidden.

He’s not sure why, because what could someone possibly get from submitting a child to this kind of suffering, but there’s undisputable evidence that someone did.

And Hizashi is going to kill them.

“There’s no mention of All Might in this,” Shouta finally says as he flips the last page and that, too, is something Hizashi had noticed with mounting rage.

“Yeah, you’d think a man of justice like himself would report it if a terrified kid came to him to ask for help, right?” Hizashi mockingly says because they both know how that particular incident ended and Hizashi has to fight the urge to go and scream at the other hero some more.

“You want him dead, too?” Shouta asks and there’s no real judgement in his voice so Hizashi immediately nods.

“Preferably,” he seethes. “He’s not fit to be the number one, not if he treats civilians—kids—like this. Nezu should have exposed him.”

“And then what?” Shouta asks and Hizashi already hates what he’s going to say next because he just knows it’s going to be rational and true and everything Hizashi doesn’t want to hear right now. “You want Endeavor to be number one? Have you seen Todoroki? You saw how he refused to use his fire for the longest time. You’ve seen the burn mark on his face. You think it’s a coincident?”

Hizashi presses his lips together because he doesn’t but Shouta is merciless.

“Did you know that Endeavor’s oldest son supposedly died in a fire?”

“What?” Hizashi almost shrieks out because he did in fact not know this but now it makes the rage under his skin burn even brighter.

“Hawks is basically a child soldier and he’s under the HPSC’s thumb, even though he tries to not let anyone know that. You want him to take the spot?”

And now here is a sobering thought, Hizashi thinks, as he goes ice-cold in sudden understanding.

“The HPSC,” he whispers because of course.

Of course.

Confusion mars Shouta’s face for a moment before his expression goes slack and Hizashi can see a fire burning in his eyes.

“Hitoshi does have a very useful, valuable quirk,” he mutters and Hizashi nods.

“And it’s so much easier to snatch a kid up when his will has already been broken and he’s desperate,” Hizashi adds because the HPSC has always been shady and they’ve harboured their suspicions against them for a while now.

“Well, it’s time to do some investigating,” Shouta decides after a long pause and he tugs the folder closer to himself. “Mind if I work my way through them?”

Hizashi shakes his head; Shouta is not going to be a violent as Hizashi would want him to be, because for all that Shouta works closely with the darker side of things, he does care about proper procedures when it comes to being thorough, but it’s probably for the best.

Hizashi would hate it if Hitoshi and Shouta would have to visit him in Tartarus.

~*~*~

It takes Hitoshi almost no time at all to pick up on the tense atmosphere in the apartment and when it becomes clear that he’s not going to ask, Hizashi and Shouta sit him down on the third day. They don’t have any real results to show him yet, but it’s obvious they need to explain some things at least.

Hitoshi is tense and he’s clearly been sleeping worse and Hizashi hates to see him flinch when he reaches out for him, so a talk it is.

“You’ve picked up on our mood,” Hizashi says, not sugarcoating anything and not easing Hitoshi into it, either.

They’ve learned that being straightforward with him is the way to go, after all.

“Yeah,” Hitoshi mutters, ducking in on himself as if it’s his fault, as if they are going to lash out at him any moment now and Hizashi’s heart breaks in his chest.

Shouta hasn’t gotten very far in his investigation yet, but he did manage to find one of the teachers who submitted not one but six reports and it turns out the teacher had been forcibly transferred to another school mere days after the last one.

According to Shouta she’d cried in relief at hearing that Hitoshi finally has a good placement and she’s expressed a wish to see him again though Shouta had kept her hanging about that, since they first needed to talk to Hitoshi about it.

It’s not much to go on yet, but she had confirmed that the transfer came out of nowhere and that the headmaster at the time had seem twitchy. Nervous, almost and that’s something Shouta is looking into further now.

“I’m sorry if I did anything wrong,” Hitoshi tacks on when they stay quiet for a beat too long and now this is unacceptable.

Hitoshi hasn’t done a thing wrong in his life ever and Hizashi is not going to let him believe that for a moment longer.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, kiddo,” he gently says and goes to sit next to Hitoshi.

“We got our hands on your file,” Shouta now chimes in and it only makes Hitoshi curl in further.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“No, it’s—Hitoshi, all of the reports are in there. Everything was documented because the people you told that you needed help reported it, all of them. One of your teachers filed six different abuse reports before she was forcefully transferred out of your school,” Hizashi immediately tells him because he doesn’t want the kid to worry about this a second longer.

“What?” Hitoshi breathes out and his voice wobbles. “Then why did nothing ever happen?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Hizashi reassures him, but he must not have himself as well under control as he thought, because Hitoshi almost shrinks away from him, clearly picking up on the still thrumming anger in Hizashi.

It’s been hard to get rid of, ever since he was handed that file.

“Kid, we’re angry on your behalf. You should have gotten help years ago and someone made sure that you wouldn’t. We’re furious,” Shouta explains, “but not with you. We’re furious for you.”

It seems to take Hitoshi a moment to digest that.

“You have someone in mind, don’t you?” he then asks and Hizashi can’t help but to pull him into a hug because their son is so smart.

“We do, but we shouldn’t talk about it, not without proof. It could get us all into trouble if we’re not smart about this.”

“Then why do this? Why risk that?” Hitoshi demands to know and Hizashi can’t help but to stare at him.

“Because someone made sure you couldn’t get help. Someone made sure that you couldn’t get out of your situation and that’s not acceptable.”

“But if you could get into trouble for it, then you shouldn’t poke your nose into it,” Hitoshi insists. “Why do that for me?”

“Because you’re our son and someone made sure you were hurting,” Shouta matter-of-factly says and it’s the first time they called Hitoshi that, which might not be the best moment, but it’s out there now and Hizashi gently cards a hand through Hitoshi’s hair.

“And we’re not going to let that slide,” Hizashi adds, not commenting on the wet shine on Hitoshi’s eyes.

“But regarding that—have you ever been accosted by someone? Did someone ever approach you with an offer of any kind? Did an interaction like that ever stand out to you?” Shouta asks and Hizashi makes sure to keep a close eye on Hitoshi, so he sees the moment he remembers something.

“There was once,” he slowly says, clearly trying to recall the moment. “I was out with my foster father and my social worker at the time; she was doing her monthly check-in and we met her at a café cause the house wasn’t—fit for company,” Hitoshi says with a wince. “A guy with a suit approached us at one point. I’m not sure what they were talking about, I was six or maybe seven at that time, but my foster father seemed excited and promised to keep in touch, I remember that. I was moved to a different home shortly after and my social worker made me promise to never talk to people in black suits ever again. I—never saw her again after that,” Hitoshi finishes with a frown and Shouta gets up to get the folder.

He quickly flips through the pages until he obviously finds what he’s looking for.

“Is this her?” he then asks and holds out a paper for Hitoshi, the picture of a haggard looking woman at the top left.

“Yeah.”

Hizashi commits the face to memory, because at least this woman tried her best to protect their son.

“Did anyone try after that?” Shouta asks, putting the page back.

“No, not that I can remember,” Hitoshi tells them and that’s kind of strange, too.

The HPSC is not known for giving up easily and the reports have continued to be swept under the rug after that, still, so they must have had a plan.

“I’m guessing All Might didn’t make a report?” Hitoshi lightly asks, as if it doesn’t matter to him at all and Hizashi abruptly gets up, pacing the length of the room, all under Shouta’s watchful and Hitoshi’s wary eyes.

“No, he did not,” Shouta confirms once he’s certain that Hizashi has no intention of opening his mouth and Hitoshi frowns.

“You’re still upset about that,” he notes, his eyes on Hizashi and it’s laughable because Hizashi is not upset, he’s goddamn incandescently furious, and he tries to convey as much with his eyes, because he doesn’t trust himself to speak right now.

“Of course he is, Hitoshi. We both are. All Might could have helped you but he didn’t. Not only that but he also shattered your trust in heroes. Of course we’re upset about that.”

“Like you have been about all of this,” Hitoshi mutters, his eyes falling to the folder. “You’re upset on my behalf because I got hurt and no one ever helped me,” he whispers out and when Hizashi nods he starts to cry.

Which is one way to make the anger fizzle out and a second later Hizashi is at his side, pulling him into a hug and slightly swaying them.

“Of course we are,” Hizashi mutters. “We never want to see you hurt.”

“I didn’t dare to trust this,” Hitoshi admits into Hizashi’s chest and even though it makes Hizashi’s heart squeeze in his chest, they’ve known this of course.

Hitoshi might have been more open with them but he was still wary, still so very careful, still prone to flinching and hiding himself away and avoiding questions at all costs.

It will still take some time before Hitoshi will fully trust them, but maybe this can help him. Maybe being open about this was the right way to go.

Hizashi shares a look with Shouta over Hitoshi’s head and he sees the same thoughts reflected in his eyes. And he sees the same protectiveness burn in them as well.

It seems pretty obvious that the HPSC tried to get their hands on Hitoshi and they are going to find out why.

And then they are going to destroy them.

If you think I have any idea what's going on here or where this is going, then I must disappoint you. I have no clue what happened in this fic, the HPSC idea came to me literally on the line I needed it to and at the beginning of it all I had no intention to ever write a sequel to Raise a toast in the first place. Please don't hold out hope that there's going to be any kind of solution to this, because there might not be, or there might come one to me during the next shower, who even fucking knows anymore.

[knightdgblue]

As I was waking up, I had the thought of cat girl streamer Optimus???? Megatron making things difficult by pulling the chair back kissing her on the mouth and leaves her to stare at the camera.

Her chat was going crazy for an explanation and she cut the stream early because she was not even going to focus.

She never addresses it ever and says nothing when chat brings it up. Acts like it never happened, so chat begins to make theories.

Meanwhile Optimus is pxssed off and confused and refuses to be civil and talk, just ignoring him for clearly being an aft.

But he just keeps kissing her off camera and she refuses to give into whatever this is! He doesn’t even live with her.

*being a catgirl streamer is a pastime when she isn’t looking for allspark fragments

*Megatron doesn’t explain wtf he’s doing or why

*Sari, Bumblebee, and Soundwave may or may not have something to do with this

*Bulkhead and Prowl might have some bets placed along with Black Arachnia and Blitzwing

*Lugnut confusedly cheers on his master regardless

*Lugnut might have employed the help of Swindle to aid his master at what he thinks is happening and encourage Optimus into defecting because of benefits like free healthcare

*He might have roped Sari into it too and she met Thrust

*Sari and Thrust then “run a way” to begin plans for their own dreams of fame, they just go to Sari’s room

[axel-skz]

SEUNGMIN IN THE BUILDING!

A/N: I wrote this half asleep 😭 I keep changing my idea for the Felix story so I moved up posting Seungmins. I love this one-shot though, it’s so cute. Right, now, song roulette. AA WE GOT ‘WAITING FOR US’! I feel like it’s been too long since I listened to it. Damn.

(No cus why is he so cute? Who allowed him to be this cute? I think he would kill me if I ever actually called him cute.)

You and Seungmin had been together for a couple months now. It was heaven.

You didn’t realise heaven was this sarcastic but it was heaven nonetheless.

You both enjoyed each other’s company a lot so you spent, some would say, too much time together. Jeongin would see you and smirk, always comedically checking the surrounding area to see where Seungmin was.

It was annoying that he would be right about his jokes and Seungmin was always right there.

One day, you both were doing your own things but like, in the same room. Because where else would you be? He was… harassing one of the members over text while watching TV. You were gaming.

You guys hadn’t used pet names at all yet (aside from you calling him Minnie) so what came now… embarrassed you to no end.

‘Baby, can you pass me my drink,’ you stupidly said while being too distracted by a part in your game to notice.

Seungmin, the cute little menace, smirked. Now he has ammunition.

‘Am I tiny? Am I bald?’ He replied, unmoving.

‘What? Is that a riddle or something?’ You paused your game to look at him in confusion.

‘You called me baby, what makes you say that?’ He grinned, resting his head on his palm.

You began to turn more and more red, ‘I did not!’ Yeah, lying seems like a great option right now.

‘Are you… saying my ears are broken? I’m picking up soundwaves from the neighbourhood? Like a bat? ARE YOU SAYING I’M BATMAN?!’ He gasped dramatically.

You stared at him blankly, ‘sometimes I think back to when I asked you out and I wish someone had run me over so I didn’t.’

‘I’m batman apparently so I wouldn’t have let that happen, sugar bear,’ he seemed a little too eager now.

‘Omg, why are you this way?,’ you whined as you covered your face.

‘I don’t know what you mean, honey nugget, I thought this was what we were doing now,’ you glared at him.

‘It slipped out, ok?! Can we forget it please??’

‘Your baby just slipped out? Wow, wierd of you tell me that. Bit Tmi.’

You got up and walked over to him. He had this smug smile on his face. He also looked confused about what you were planning.

You sat next to him then suddenly started tickling him.

He hated that and you knew it. Giggles escaped his mouth and he couldn’t look mad while he was laughing his ass off.

Eventually you stopped, ‘had enough, sugar bear?’

‘Ok, ok! Yes, I’ll stop now,’ he glared at you so you booped his nose and he blushed.

It made you laugh as you got up and went to get your water.

You heard him say something but couldn’t make it out, you poked your head back to look in the living room, ‘what?’

He was blushing like crazy and looking anywhere but you as he spoke, ‘you can call me baby or whatever if you want…’

You smiled and didn’t tease him too much about it, ‘that sounds nice Minnie. You can call me sugar bear or whatever.’

He laughed a little and then continued with whatever he was doing on his phone. The rest of the night passed without a sugar bear or a honey nugget being mentioned :)

Seungmin: You are right. *he’s suddenly stood behind me with an axe in his hand (lol, get it? Axe, Axel, Axe, Axel? Ok yeah, I think you get it)* I would kill you.

We can talk about this… I swear… I only called you cute because… of… umm… hold on, wait… I swear I can think up a good reason…

Seungmin: TIMES UP!

insert high speed chase here

Meanwhile, the boys on the side, sit with popcorn and drinks.

Minho: if he doesn’t catch her, I’ll be very disappointed, I taught him better then that.

Bang chan: you know, this is why I don’t leave him alone with you anymore.

Minho shrugs: fair.

They all start cheering as he slowly catches up but then aw as he falls back again.

YOU GUYS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE MY FRIENDS TOO! WHY AM I ALWAYS IN DANGER WHEN I’M AROUND YOU!

Felix: if you live, I’ll bake you something!

Oh damn, totally worth it.

And suddenly I’m Usain Bolt.

[zombieheroine]

TFP and Alien Character Design

My introduction to the Transformers franchise were bayformers (accidentally) and Transformers: Prime (on purpose), and given their designs it took me a while to come around for the classic (and more marketable) boxy designs. I’d like to specifically take a moment to appreciate TFP, since I feel it sells the “alien robots” part the best. 

I absolutely love how TFP’s artists have taken liberties and given each bot their own, distinctive look instead of sticking to a formula (aka a toy mould). I especially adore how, while clearly humanoid and analogous to us, they manage to look very alien.

Every bot has a humanoid form with a head, a torso, and four limbs, two legs and two hands to be precise. Predacons and Insecticons aside, there are many more subtle variations that make the bots look distinctly less human. One obvious point is the lack of noses on any of them, and I feel like it’s a bit controversial to say that’s a good choice. I appreciate it, because while it changes the profile only a little, it highlights that the bots don’t need a nose, not for breathing or for forming sounds. I know the “making sounds to talk” part is undermined by the fact that they have mouths that move to their speech, but I see that being more due to keeping them pleasant to watch, especially since “mouth doesn’t match the sounds” is generally understood more as poor or lazy animation rather than a decision on character design and storytelling. Also mouth or even eyes are not necessary for the bots, not for speaking or seeing. Both Soundwave and Shockwave have designs where their heads don’t (at least obviously) have mouths or eyes. Soundwave’s visor could hide a face, but we know for sure from Shockwave’s design that it’s not a certainity for their species. Soundwave’s design even calls to question the rule of four limbs, because we don’t know how his tentacles function: Are they limbs he was born with? Are they some sort of a device or a modification installed on his natural frame? Could they be extra arms instead of data cables? Could every bot theoretically have extra limbs installed?

Airachnid also has multiple limbs at her disposal, in her spider form. Interestingly, she seems to have two alt forms, the spider one and the helicopter, while her bot form also has two arms and two legs. However, she seems to be an outlier, considering that she has been “inspired” by other alien species on her galactic travels (her own words), and the reaction from other bots, for example Breakdown’s comment “the extra arms freak me out”. What Airachnid and Soundwave share is that their “extra limbs” are different from their arms and legs, which might mean that they are more like the wheels or wings of the alt forms other bots have.

Shockwave’s head is pretty obviously inspired by a security camera, which supports his uncanny, emotionless image. He has one eye and not much else, being an example of bots forming speech entirely with a device/organ, the voice box, in their throat (see also: Bumblebee’s mutism). In fact, Shockwave’s head is so small and strangely structured around the single eye that it makes me question if his CPU is somewhere else on his body. Once again, this opens possibilities to how Cybertronians function: The head doesn’t necessarily carry as much importance to them as it does to humans.

Various smaller details in the designs deserve a shoutout as well: The different shapes of hands and fingers, made of different materials and varying proportions. There are different kinds of eyes, and not varying only in colour, but also shape, size, quantity, and if they have a visible iris and pupil or not. The bot and vehicle modes are clearly linked, largely corresponding with the shape and weight of the vehicle mode, and parts of machienery visible.

Given all of the above, all sorts of mods and changes that would be either very difficult or impossible for human body, might not be so to Cybetronians. Their humanoid shape seems much more incidental when youconsider all the alien aspects worked into the designs and the story.

[katlikeshetalia3]

A Transformer Prime OC I made.

Her name is Morning Star. Despite being on the Decepticon side, she is a pacifist. She is usually very calm, though if she is bugged too much you might just figure out why she is labeled as a pacifist. She tends to be a bit awkward if she is talking to someone she barely knows. Mostly talking with Shockwave or Soundwave, and is able to make a decent conversation with Dreadwing. Her mouth is able to unhinged, though she only does it when it is needed. She is indifferent to humans, she doesn’t see them as equal(because they can die so easily) but is impressed by them sometimes. She is intrigued by the music made by humans, this being the only reason why she even knows the humans’ languages. Morning Star personally knew both Soundwave and Shockwave before the war started. She had a few run ins with Megatronus, or well, Megatron before the war too. A random fact is she is oldest of the Decepticons.

I might also add that in her universe there is slight alterations to the history. Mostly being that I’m dragging in the concept of Shockwave having a different life and then being made the way he is. And in this AU Morning Star was the top Gladiator instead of Megatronus. Star and Megatronus were supposed to fight again, but then the war started.

[noodleblade]

Tfp prompt idea: knock out abusing his power to keep breakdown as his assistant even though he’s not really trained for it

<3 this was a really fun prompt that I made very sappy because these two deserve to be sweet and sappy with each other:) AO3 Link Enjoy!!

It was kind of funny watching Starscream throw a fit. Especially when Knock Out knew there was nothing the seeker could do about it. He could stomp his heeled pedes and scream all he wanted, but the decision was final. Beside Knock Out, his partner shifted uncomfortably. Despite his talent for violence, Breakdown was not a fan of conflict, especially if he was not able to use his fists to solve it. 

Starscream narrowed his optics at the two of them, clawed servos clenched into angry little fists. “This better not be an excuse to fool around in the medbay.”

“ Please ,” Knock Out gasped in offense, servo coming to rest over his spark, “I’m a professional. I take my work very seriously, hence my need to have my assistant present. After all, two pairs of servos are better than one.”

Starscream’s gaze drifted to Breakdown’s larger, bulkier servos skeptically. He was not convinced but it hardly mattered. Soundwave had already approved of Breakdown’s position and as much as Starscream was to kick up a fuss here in the medbay, there was not a chance Soundwave would allow his complaining to persist. Not when work needed to be done.

The sharp click of heels echoed Starscream’s departure. If the medbay doors weren’t on an auto shut, Knock Out was sure he would have slammed them. 

A klik of silence passed. Both mechs waited patiently. Starscream was prone to theatrics and sometimes would come back to add another quip if he thought of one in time. When the Air Commander didn’t return, Knock Out turned to Breakdown with a sly smirk on his lip plates. 

“Told you it would work.”

Breakdown rolled his optics with a huff. “Only just. If they actually look into those documents, they’re going to find out they’re fake. Swindle makes a good forgery, but not that good.”

“Soundwave maybe , but not Starscream. I paid good shanix for those,” Knock Out waved off his concerns. “It’s not like you don’t know what you are doing. You’re a better medic than anyone else here.”

Breakdown smile, a small, soft little thing that made Knock Out’s spark pulse happily. “I had a pretty good teacher.”

“Pretty good?” Knock Out pouted. 

“He got distracted sometimes.” Breakdown was full on smiling now, servo reaching out for Knock Out’s. “‘Kept flirting and scrap.”

“Oh my,” Knock Out purred as he allowed Breakdown to reel him close, their chassis pressed together, “inappropriate relationships with your professor? Tsk, tsk, Breakdown. How scandalous! Unethical! He should have his medical license removed!”

Breakdown pressed his helm against Knock Out’s, his yellow optics warm and adoring. “Funny. I think they tried that already. He fled though, on the run.”

“Mmmm,” Knock Out’s optics dimmed, “must be lonely.”

Breakdown’s voice lowered to that of a whisper. “Nah, heard he ran off with some bruiser type. Typical right?”

“Cliche, but aren’t all the best stories?”

“Disgraced doctor and-”

“Unruly patient? Yeah, the biggest cliche out there. Pretty sure they warn you about that in the intro-courses, not to fall for your patients.”

Breakdown squeezed Knock Out’s servo and with his free arm, wrapped it around the medic. “What do the intro courses say about doctors and nurses?”

Knock Out’s engine revved teasingly. “As long as Starscream doesn’t catch them fooling around on shift, then it's okay, encouraged even.”

Breakdown snorted. “They mention Starscream by name?”

“He’s rather infamous, no?” Knock Out tilted his helm up to press a kiss to Breakdown’s chin. “But, would you look at that-” he pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth “-shift is over.”

[artsy-hobbitses]

So it’s that time of year again in marvel comics. The Summer Hellfire Gala! They already teased some designs in the past months for this event and some are hit or miss.

My question if such a gala was a thing in TTB universe, who would be the top designers for the cons and bots for such an event? Would they create them on their own creativity or from getting insights on the clients perspective and wants?

Oh this is a WILD ask and I’m dgshdjdhjfjdjdjff about it because OUTFITS FOR EVERYBODY.

I know most top tier fashion houses specialising in menswear would be FOAMING AT THE MOUTH to dress both Optimus Prime and Megatron. I’m gonna say Hugo Boss for Megs, and Ralph Lauren for OP. Megs has some input, especially since Starscream has impressed upon him the importance of optics, and while he doesn’t know a damn thing about fashion, he does know the sort of statement he’d like to make with it. OP is more of a ‘surprise me’ sort of guy, I can imagine he was VERY taken aback/flustered by the idea of flaunting in public in such a way, though Jazz and Mirage likely manage to talk him into it for PR purposes. He embraces it as a fun yearly event after a while!

Mirage has two designers on standby—Burberry and Alexander McQueen—at all times all the way from his old days as an Earl. In this case they very much rely on input from him, as he actually is part of the business, and there would be occasions where he comes wearing something he designed himself for added pizzazz and press media loses its fucking mind. Tommy Hilfiger saw Tom Holland Bumblebee and immediately shoved all the competition off the cliff—-he’s the perfect mix of preppy street youth to showcase their work for the younger demographic. Like OP, Bee is baffled at the idea of being anything resembling a fashion icon, but he ropes in Charlie and Memo for the perfect runway triple threat. He’s more hands-off about it, like OP is.

Marc Jacobs definitely courts Jazz—the streetwise aesthetics with a little prep, a little grunge, a little couture is something the man wears VERY well! Jazz would be 20% input and 80% Surprise Me, he loves the thrill of seeing that final piece unveiled.

Jean Paul Gaultier bags the fashion prizefighter in Blurr! These two have DEFINITELY worked together for a very long time—-likely ever since Blurr won their first race. Initially neither had much input of which was mostly given by the company Blurr worked for—they had to project a certain image, and that stiffled a lot of creativity on their end, but once Blurr has the freedom to properly express themselves as a member of the Autobots, both the designer and client are more than happy to go BUCK WILD with input on designs.

Valentino gets Sunstreaker, and Giorgio Armani bagged Sideswipe, and both sides get into a playful rivalry about it, so in this case, the Lambo Bros definitely had vested interest to give in as much input as they could, though Sunny is WAY more of a primadonna about it.

Starscream reps his Sicilian heritage via Dolce & Gabbana, whose pieces he’s worn since his Senator days, and like Mirage, he has a LOT of input in the final product as he actually has experience making his own clothes, while Spanish designer Balenciaga bags his Seeker team mate Thundercracker, whose artistry and stage play background makes him a damn good canvas for avant- Garde looks (which he displays with all the subtlety of a very randy peacock). Thundercracker is about 50/50 Input to Surprise Me!

Soundwave would rep their home country by donning a piece by Indonesian designer Poppy Dharsono who does wonderful work mixing ethnic textiles and patterns with contemporary influences—they leave the whole thing in the designer’s very capable hands!

Comme Des Garçons would take on the challenge of dressing Drift (Ratchet is stayin out of this mess, but listen, he can look at the menu even if he doesn’t want to be a part of the smorgasbord!!)

Laserbeak managed to catch the eye of Dundas and she is dragging poor, very confused Ravage into this mess with her because SOMEONE CHOSE TO DRESS HER??? Y’ALL NOBODY CHOOSES TO DRESS HER LIKE SHE’S GONNA SAY NO TO THIS CHANCE TO STRUT HER STUF???? Bouncing off the walls excitement oh my GOD THEY WANT HER INPUT TOO QUICK MOVE OVER SHE NEEDS TO SET UP A PIN INTEREST BOARD!!!!

I’m thinking Vera Wang for Windblade, Yves Saint Lauren for Lightbright and Christie Brown for Chromia! All three are more in Surprise Me camp!

That’s all I got for now, but feel free to ask for specifics if they weren’t mentioned!

[blueikeproductions]

EarthSpark OCs, since I’m seeing my previous EarthSpark topics light up my dashboard and I’ve been meaning to post these for awhile.

Due to a Warp Gate accident in peacetime in the CV Life on Earth universe, the Autobots’ human allies Grahm, Thompson, Meister and Maddie along with Optimus’ Mini-Con partner Leon, get whisked away into the EarthSpark universe, but the group gets separated from each other in Witwicky. By chance each kid winds up finding the Emberstone chamber and unwittingly activates it, creating more Terrans separate from the Maltobots. Unlike the Maltobots, these Terrans were born with alternate modes, scanned from choices in each child’s mind from their universe. These Terrans are also more openly aligned with the Autobots due to Grahm and the others’ bond with their previous Autobot partners, and are more oriented for combat than their Maltobot cousins.

Phoenix: Bonded to Grahm. Hotheaded, smart mouthed, and no-nonsense, Phoenix can and will tell off Optimus, Megatron, Termagax and Dot if he thinks they’re demeaning himself or the other Terrans. Gets along with the Maltobots, but finds Twitch and Hashtag’s exuberance draining to his circuits. The oldest of the new batch, he’s the de facto leader, and while well meaning, his slightly abrasive demeanor is off putting to his teammates. Like his namesake, he possesses literal firepower, and is hard to take down, always getting back up when it looks like he might be down for the count. His vehicle mode is based on a car Grahm fancied back at his Uncle Sparkplug’s garage.

Landhammer: Bonded to Thompson. A gentle Gorillabot, who enjoys reading and tabletop gaming. He’s good friends with Nightshade and Jawbreaker, due to their shared interests. The muscle of the group and a natural protector, he prefers defense over offense, despite having a punch strong enough to shatter the likes of Groundpounder’s arm. Has some degree of mastery over earth and can cause fissures and quakes with a punch or stomp.

Nightscream: Bonded to Meister. Shares Meister’s love of music, and has a particular interest in opera, perhaps influenced by Meister’s memories of Cyberverse Soundwave’s own love of Cybertronic opera. Has a bit of a rebellious bad boy streak that masks his insecurities, comparable to RiD15 Sideswipe. Openly gay and a bit of a flirt, but hasn’t found a Transformer he particularly likes yet. His best friend among the Maltobots is Thrash. Enjoys flustering male Decepticons with his flirty side to catch them off guard in a fight, though the tables can be turned when a Decepticon genuinely reciprocates back at him. Specializes in sound and sonic based attacks, making him a natural rival to EarthSpark Soundwave. Has a form of Mode Attachment and can usually be found in his Beast Mode.

Abhorrus: Bonded to Maddie. Functionally the daughter to Maddie’s previous partner Repugnus, and shares much of the Monsterbot’s schematics and personality traits. Naughty, hyperactive and mischievous, but a good kid all around. Her closest friends among the Maltobots are Twitch and Hashtag. While powered by Quintus Prime blessed water like other Terrans, Abhorrus enjoys Energon drinks, particularly K-Juice, and loves Pepsi products, and can usually be found with a drink in hand. Likes to get her hands dirty, and is usually the one to commit an act the other Terrans and Autobots are reluctant to do. Has casually bragged about off lining other Decepticons, and doesn’t trust them, being uneasy about EarthSpark Megatron due to awareness of other versions of Megatron because of Maddie’s memories of the Legacy Wars. Packs a powerful Cybervenom in her Beast Mode’s tail that can force an enemy into Stasis Lock after a couple bites.

Leon: Cyclone Mini-Con bonded to Optimus Prime. Calm, wise, but not afraid to show his softer, sillier side to compliment CV Optimus’ stoicism. Originally from Cyberverse, but has partnered with the local ES Optimus to better coordinate with the two sets of Terrans and their human partners. Was originally a star Baske-Trek player on pre-war Cybertron alongside Orion Pax until a humiliating defeat saw the two retire from the sport until their Earth adventures. Has a bit of trouble fully connecting with ES Optimus due to different universal circumstances such as this Optimus being more of Cube player.

[revelboo]

reading the newest part to Everything Is Alright during my break gave me the strength to finish out my shift

thank you for your service to the fandom!!

Thank you!

Everything Is Alright Pt 58

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Not like this. Not helpless. Feels your hands on his face, his helm, gently lifting his head into your lap, as he tries to latch onto the sound of your voice, everything muzzy and cold. Trying to protect him from Soundwave? So depleted he can’t make any sense of your words, so exhausted that it’s almost impossible to hook an arm around you, but he does. Trying to keep you by him.

• What a mess. Pausing to pick up your blanket and drape it around you, Soundwave vents roughly and stares down at your wide, teary eyes. Wants nothing more than to just walk back out, but unable to do that to you. Wonders if you have any idea how messy and complicated his life is because of you as he reaches out to gather up you and the nearly comatose Seeker in his hands. Hearing an angry snarl from Starscream, but no threats. Seeing the way you cling to the Seeker, your fear drawing him tight, sinking anxiously through him. “Safe, little one,” he rumbles, needing you to calm so your panic doesn’t make this even harder.

• Star’s rumbling weakly, servos digging almost painfully into your hip as he tries to curl himself around you. Still faintly trembling under your hands, but denta bared like Soundwave is a threat. So tense you wonder if there’s a reason for Starscream’s hostility. Something you don’t know. “It’s okay,” you murmur, running your hands over Starscream. Reminding yourself that you trust Soundwave. “We’re okay.” Please, be okay.

• “Leave, please,” Soundwave growls as he enters his quarters, seeing Ravage and Lazerbeak look up in surprise. Noticing the mass displaced Seeker and you in his hands. “Discretion,” he adds as the two find somewhere else to be. Because a wrong word about any of this to the wrong mech and Starscream won’t be the only one in danger. While he could care less for the manipulative Seeker, he won’t have you put in danger because of Starscream’s idiocy. Carefully lowering you and Star onto his berth, he can feel your anxious eyes on him when he turns away. Finds an energon cube and hesitates before finding one of the much tinier ones for his cassettes and carefully offering it to you. “Energon depleted.”

• Reaching up both hands to take the cube slightly bigger than your head, you struggle to hold it and tip Star’s head. He’s out again, optics shuttered. “I can’t accidentally drown him, right?” You ask and Soundwave shakes his head, reaching out to run the tip of his servo across your cheek to make you realize you’re crying. Shoulders hunching, you start slowly pouring energon into his mouth. Aware of Soundwave hovering nearby, reaching out to cup your back with his warm servos, just being there to make sure you don’t fall apart. “Thank you,” you murmur. For the longest nothing happens, but finally his optics open, still dimmer than normal even as he grabs your wrist, tipping the cube more. Finishing that one then Soundwave is offering another for you to take, Starscream’s eyes more focused and alert as you help him drink.

• Head in your lap, little hands tipping the cube for him as he drinks, his optics slide from you to Soundwave standing over you both, the communication officer’s servos cupping your back. Helping you and him, even though he can’t understand why. It’s not like they are or ever were friends and this was Soundwave’s chance to be rid of him. Instead, he’d carried him and you both to his quarters where you’re protected. Gave him energon. Why? There must be an ulterior motive, a play he’s not seeing.

• Angry optics glare up at him as he offers you another cassette sized cube, your shaking fingers brushing his servos when you take it. Still crying silently, but calmer now that you have a purpose. And the Seeker’s still too depleted to mass shift back, just no longer critical. Starscream had to know what would happen, but he’d done it anyway. Just to claim you again. Watching you tend to the Seeker makes him feel off balance, a lonely ache in his spark as you set the empty cube aside and run your fingertips over his helm. Watching Starscream curl a possessive arm around you, still too weak to do much else besides scowl and flare his wings aggressively. Picking up the new bedding he’d gotten for you, Soundwave drapes the thicker blankets around your shoulders, trying to ignore that you’re half naked still. “Rest, little one,” he says, reaching to touch your cheek and your eyes close, leaning into the touch as the Seeker watches the exchange.

• Servos grip your hip as you stretch out beside where Starscream is partially sprawled on his front. Feeling him shift slightly onto his side enough he can drag you against his frame with his wings folded back and his chin on top of your head. He’s warm against you, his scent filling your head as he clings to you, exhaustion pulling at you. “Why?” Starscream rasps, as you float in that space between waking and sleep.

• “Not for you,” Soundwave retorts as he sits on the edge of his berth, watching over you and the Seeker. The unfairness of you cradled against Starscream hurts him. Wanting that feeling of belonging. Wanting you to look at him like you do the Seeker, to cling to him instead.

• Not for him, for you. Helping him just because losing him would upset you. Servos sliding through your hair, Starscream knows he’s still too weak. Still helpless, but as much as he hates it, he’s almost sure now that Soundwave won’t try to harm him, because it would hurt you. Forced to entrust himself and you to Soundwave, is nearly enough to drive him mad. But if it’s for you? He can put with a lot to keep you safe. His spark calming as you press your face against his neck and he watches the other mech over the top of your head.

Previous

Next

[devilbeez]

how about wavewave tfa megaop swinlock and rattrap x dinobot? lisning I know the animating of beast wars isnt good it what everyone who first starts the series says but the story makes up for it just don't watch beast machine if you ever decide to watch beast wars the people who wrote that show never watch the oringal beast wars meaning that everyone is out of character

Imma try to answer this with those that I know which is WaveWave and MegaOp. I don’t remember much of SwinLock because I watched it so long ago but imma still try and I just don’t know Rattrap. If I’m desperate enough for more transformers content I might actually give in and look over the animation but that probably gonna be awhile

WaveWave (I looked this up if I got it wrong blame google)

I know you probably not meant them in this universe but I saw war of cybertron clip and the only thing I can think of is Soundwave and Shockwave making playlists together and play it during worst and best time in battle.

They’re like— that one post about hero x villain prompt about hero and villain fighting in battlefield cause it work and then cuddling together in bed at home and personal time. Like they HATE each other in work space because they’re colleagues rivals but when they’re off clock, they do be vibing with each other, man

They are very VERY down low about their relationship like no one knew and they like it that way.

I feel like them catching feeling is completely a accident. It’s very “ew I hate you but we have a mission together so I suppose we have to put that aside and work together……….well fuck—“ and it was a complete slow burn of a process because both of them refuse to say anything

Soundwave definitely confess first but only after he find out it was mutual and that there’s no possible way for failure just to get in a “ha, I confess before you, coward” but now it’s in an affectionate way

I feel like even before they caught feelings Shockwave is fascinated by Soundwave in someway, he just have a fixation on him like “you are so weird, something is definitely wrong with you and I want to study all of it”

MegaOp

Tfa is weird because it’s probably the only version of transformers that Megatron and Optimus didn’t have this— divorced couple energy going on, probably because how Optimus is in that and how they’re not besties before the war. So my view of them is like— that one couple that you have to ask “do they hate each other or are they doing it—“

When they fight I can only imagine Megatron looking down like “okay— stop— I feel like I’m being threaten by a puppy— not even a cybertronian one, the EARTH puppies” and Optimus just walk away, come back with a stool and smack him

The only other things I can imagine with them in tfa specifically is that everything out of their mouth have some sort of unintentional innuendo or unintentional flirting.

Swinlock

From google and memories, my perception of these two together is literally Jade and Azul from twisted wonderland. This is a “beneficial and contractual relationship not a romantic one” type thing— like they refuse to admit it verbally but their actions say it all

Swindle would definitely whine over Lockdown’s collection because they’re such goldmine but they’re off limit

Lockdown doesn’t admit it but he will bring souvenir for Swindle. Does he understand why a certain thing excite Swindle so much? No. Will he continue to do it anyway? Yes

I feel like they would be the couple that god let live another day and so they make it everyone else’s problem.

[sergeantsporks]

Gilded Family

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 24/?: Puppets Vs. Pals

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17,  Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23

In which none of the previous golden guards or wittebro died, actually, they're all fine and living happily together as one big dysfunctional family

Ao3

Collector stroked his chin. “Hmmmm… What is this new game?”

“Weeeeell, it was a really fun one that Terra used to play with me all the time, called ‘covens versus wilds.’”

“Oh,” King yelped, “I know about this one! Eda… Eda told me.”

Phoenix shook his head. “Obviously, covens versus wilds doesn’t really make sense anymore, so we’ll call it… puppets versus pals.”

Collector nodded. “Huh. How do you play?”

“Well, there are two teams. Puppets, and pals.”

Collector clapped his hands. “Oh, we’re pals! And the rest of the isles… puppets! Easy teams!”

“Close,” Phoenix said slowly, “There’s one more role. It’s the most important role, and if no one does it, then we can’t play the game.”

“Oh, me!” Collector bobbed up and down in the air, raising his hand. “Me, me, me, I’ll do it, I want to do that one!”

“Are you sure? It puts you on the other team.”

“Yes! I want the super important part, I’ll be so good at it!”

Phoenix’s gut twisted.

You’re acting just like him. Tricking some kid into playing your game.

I have to

It isn’t the same, I have to.

“Okay, if you’re sure. Your job is that you are in charge. You’re running the base of operations here. You make sure all the puppets are coordinated. Because team pal’s job is to get out of the archive house and out of your… blue area. And team puppet is trying to get uuuuuuus tooooo…”

“The room! Our bedroom, it’s a good spot. What are the rules?”

“Um… you can’t leave the house, but you can send ALL of the puppets after us. If someone gets hurt, we have to pause. And… you can’t turn King or I into puppets. That’s cheating.”

“Okay! Hey, the yard is kind of big, especially since you can’t fly without me. How about I draw a new area? Look.” Collector clapped his hands, and outside, a wall of light sectioned off a swathe of land around the archive house. “You just have to get past the light wall to win! Okay, are we ready? Three! Two! One! Go!”

Phoenix scooped King up, bolting towards the hallway. Puppets appeared with a pop behind them at “go,” clattering wordlessly. Phoenix skidded to a stop in front of the window over the horn, yanking the glyph Lilith had given him out of his pocket. “We need to clear the skull. Can you break that window?”

“Weh!”

A soundwave blasted out of King’s mouth, and the glass cracked, spiderwebs of white spreading across it.

Tap, tap, click.

A puppet lurched towards them, and Phoenix shuddered. “Time to go!”

He backed up, then took a running leap at the window, turning so that his shoulder hit the glass and his body shielded King from the impact. The glass shattered, and a thousand tiny shards bit into the right side of Phoenix’s body. The two of them slammed into the horn, and Phoenix scrambled for a grip, skin scraping across rough bone.

Come on, come on, come on—

Phoenix’s fingers cracked into the skull, and he and King slid to a stop. “Hah—huh—”

“You just broke bone!” King yelped, “How did you know that would work?!”

“I—was just hoping—I could find—a handhold.” Phoenix stared upwards, refusing to look at how far below them the ground was. “Okay, okay.”

Blue stars whirled down from the archive house, puppets sitting on top.

Don’t think, just do it, don’t think, just do it—

Phoenix took a deep breath, braced his feet against the horn, and pushed off, leaping clear of the skull. King screamed, clinging tightly to Phoenix.

“WE’RE GONNA DIE!”

Phoenix forced himself not to activate the glyph, watching the ground get closer… closer…

He hit the paper, and their fall slowed, the air around them humming and glowing blue. He twisted in midair and landed on his feet. It didn’t matter—his legs gave out the second he put weight on them, and he crashed to the ground.

“We just jumped. Off of the top of the skull. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Ahahaha.”

King’s grip came just on the verge of strangling Phoenix now. “Are you crazy?! It’s just a game!”

Phoenix pushed himself to his feet. “It’s not a game—it’s an escape. Let’s go.” He started towards the treeline—any cover was better than standing in the open, and according to the mental map Phoenix had made of the ‘yard,’ the river was somewhere in that forest.

Click

A hand closed around Phoenix’s arm, and he whirled around, swinging his fist.

Cyrus’ date from the coven day parade stared at him, eyes blank. Phoenix twisted his arm mid swing, barely missing the puppet’s face. The puppet grabbed his arm and pulled, tugging him back towards the archive house, but Phoenix wrenched away, sweeping the puppet’s legs out from under him.

“Someone I know cares about you,” he told the stall owner, “Hold on for him.” He sprinted away before the puppet could get back up, weaving through the trees to break off his line of sight.

“What do you mean escape?” King demanded, “What about Eda and Lilith?!”

“I talked to them, actually. They’re in on this.” Phoenix ducked behind a tree, panting, as a star whirred past. The moment it was gone, he started to run again, ears swiveling to pick up any sound of running water.

“In on this… how?”

“We’re a distraction,” Phoenix lied, “The Collector should focus all of his puppet power on us, which leaves them unguarded. They slip out, we run out of here while the Collector stays in the archives.”

First you lied to the Collector. Now King.

I have to, or he’d never agree to come.

Not that lying to King would last. He’d figure out pretty quickly that Eda and Lilith hadn’t gotten away. Hopefully, Phoenix could keep him from running right back to the Collector to rescue them.

Looking out for his safety? Or your own?

Phoenix shook himself. It didn’t matter. This was what Eda and Lilith wanted for King. They were smart and tough—they’d find their own way out. In the meantime, they wanted King to get out and as far away from the Collector as possible.

“You don’t think the Collector will be suspicious? A game with rules specifically designed to let us run away from him while he has to stay put in the archive house?

Phoenix shook his head. “There’s only ever been one real rule to Covens vs. Wilds. And that’s that wilds can’t win. The odds are intentionally stacked against us.”

“Just like real life covens and wild witches.”

“Just like real life covens and wild witches,” Phoenix agreed, “Anyway, if it seems like a game we can’t win, it’s not so suspicious. And hopefully we’ll be long gone before he figures it out.” His ears twitched, picking up a splash, and he ran towards the sound, eyes constantly shifting across the trees, checking for puppets.

King sighed. “It doesn’t feel right. Tricking him, I mean. Belos tricked him for years, and the owl house game was a trick to get him to save the isles, and now we’re tricking him again.”

Phoenix’s gut clenched. The Collector was dangerous, there was no denying that. But he was just a kid. And if Phoenix and King got away with this, if they managed to run out of his reach… he’d be left alone with Terra. And Odalia.

Phoenix almost pumped the brakes at that thought, tripping over his own feet to keep going.

“I know. But he’s dangerous. And he can’t… he’s holding us hostage.”

“Maybe I should stay.”

“What?!” Phoenix did stop at that, looking around for watching eyes before crouching in a purple bush and letting King down so he could look him in the eye. “You can’t be serious.”

“Eda and Lilith will be safe. The Collector might not chase after the two of them, but he will keep looking for me.” King patted Phoenix’s hand. “I know you have people you want to get back to. So go to them. Splitting up will increase your chance of getting away, and maybe I can convince the Collector to let you go. That way, he won’t be alone, and you won’t have him hunting down your family.”

Phoenix shook his head. “I’m not leaving you behind. And you know Eda and Lilith wouldn’t want you going back either.”

“I’m not asking Eda and Lilith. I’m asking you.”

Puppets clattered by in a gang of ten, and Phoenix waited for them to pass, silent. Once they were out of sight, he heaved a sigh.

“Look. Collector is… complicated. I don’t think there’s a right answer here. All I know is that Eda and Lilith want you out of the archive house. And I’ll sleep a lot better at night if I know you’re not with him and Terra and Odalia all alone.”

King’s eyes seemed to search his face, then finally nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Since you and Eda and Lilith planned all of this. But Phoenix, if I decide I want to go back…”

“I might not be the one you have to convince. The others can be… intense.”

“Alright. I’ll keep it in mind.” King scrambled back onto Phoenix’s back. “Let’s go.”

Phoenix pushed leaves aside, checking for more puppets. They’d passed for now, but Collector had the whole Isles worth out looking for them. Not seeing at least one or two out was… concerning, to say the least. He jogged towards where he’d heard that splash, moving southeast.

A wall of light blazed through the trees, so bright Phoenix started seeing spots.

Something grabbed his arm, and Phoenix twisted away, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the light.

I can’t see, but they can.

Smart.

He charged forward blindly, pushing through puppets and shaking them off every time one latched onto his ankles or wrist.

King started to slide off his back, his little claws digging into Phoenix’s shoulders.

“Phoenix!”

Phoenix pivoted, opening his eyes. His shadow loomed out in front of him, the light behind him flickering and making his shadow shudder, spikey horns sprouting from its head and disappearing just as quickly. The puppet that held King tilted its head at him, and he kicked it, grabbing King as it stumbled backwards. He closed his eyes again, running through the curtain of light. The blinding light pressing at his eyelids abruptly disappeared, leaving spots in their wake.

The puppets chattered, then fell into their ‘waiting’ position, joints loose.

“I… guess we won?” King suggested.

A star shot off from the archive house, falling towards them, and Phoenix’s blood chilled.

He’s coming for us.

“We need to go.”

He ran for the river, which he could hear in a dull roar of running water, constantly present now.

“Guys,” Collector laughed, his star skimming the ground next to them, “The game’s over. You won! You can stop running!”

Phoenix could hear King’s heartbeat throbbing against his back—or maybe that was his own heart, beating so hard against his ribs that he could feel it trying to get out.

“Phoenix. Stop running. Stop!”

Collector’s star whirled in front of Phoenix, and he skidded to a near stop, dashing to the side and continuing around him.

“Phoenix,” King’s voice said in his ear, frantic, “Phoenix, it’s not going to work—he’s too fast, it’s over!”

Phoenix shook his head, his breath coming in short, ragged pants, only half from the physical exertion. The forest had turned into a tunnel, with just the river at the end.

Have to keep going

Have to get out of here

Can’t stop

Can’t stop

Can’t stop

He took Darius

He’ll take King

He’ll take everyone from you

Not again

Not again

Not again

The ground cracked under Phoenix’s feet, and he crashed to the ground, driving glass shards from the window further into his arm and side.

“Phoenix?” Collector asked in a small voice, “Why won’t you stop running?”

“You have to let me go,” Phoenix gasped, “You have to let me go, Belos, you have to let… me…”

“What. Did you. Call me.”

“I—” Phoenix forced himself to take a deep, shuddering breath. “I didn’t mean—It just… slipped…”

“What do you mean, go? You’re not trying to leave me, are you?”

Say no! Phoenix’s mind screamed, You can still fix this, just pretend you got caught up in the game!

No. No more lying.

“Yes,” Phoenix told him, “Yes. I want to leave.”

“Wha—why?! I thought we were friends! Friends don’t leave friends!”

Phoenix pushed himself to his feet, wincing as the little glass shards tore at his flesh. “Friends… friends say goodbye, and they go home, Collector. I’m going home.”

Collector stamped his foot, and the ground shook again. “The archive house is your home! With me! Why do you have to go to some other place?”

“I—”

“Do you have other friends? They don’t have to stay at another place, they can come to the archive house. We can all be friends! You don’t have to go! Where are they? I can bring them to the archive house just like that!”

“No!” Phoenix took another deep breath. “No.”

“Why not?!”

“You’ll turn them into puppets!”

“Yeah? That way they’ll be safe?”

“No. No, it just traps them. You have to understand that, you’re not keeping people safe, they’re not your friends, they’re your prisoners! I’m your prisoner.”

He had to understand. He had to—Phoenix didn’t want to hurt the Collector. He didn’t want to lie anymore, he didn’t want to trick the kid, and he definitely didn’t want to fight him. He just wanted to go.

Collector sputtered, crossing his arms. “Nuh-uh! Prison is being put in a disc and being alone forever and ever and ever and not being able to see anyone! No one is alone this way, and no one gets hurt! No one gets old or sick or dies! I’m protecting them, I’m protecting all of them! Why can’t you see that?! It’s not prison!”

Phoenix shook his head. “Prison is keeping someone against their will—and you’re not letting me go. I want to go home. Prove we’re not prisoners. Let us go. If we’re friends, you’ll let us leave. And you won’t follow us.”

Collector’s lip wobbled. “If we’re friends, that means you’ll come back, right?”

He still has Darius

And… I don’t want him to only have Terra and Odalia as company.

“I’ll come back,” Phoenix said slowly. A voice in the back of his mind screamed not to promise that, or for it to at least be a lie, but he squashed that part down. He’d let the others know what had happened to Jason and Hunter. He’d fulfill his promise to Eda and Lilith and get King to safety. And then he’d come back for Darius.

And the Collector.

Collector took a deep breath. “You’re sure you don’t want them to come back with you to the archive house?” he whined.

“I’m sure.”

“And you’re sure you’ll come back?”

“I’ll come right back to the skull and wave to one of your stars to pick me up,” Phoenix promised, “I won’t be gone long.”

“Like, you’ll be back tomorrow?”

“Uh… give me a week?”

“That’s forever!”

“Think about it. I’ve been with you for weeks, and my other home didn’t get to see me for all that time. It’s only fair.”

“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Fffffffine. Can I send a star with you to fly you back super fast, at least?”

“No.���

“Man. C’mon, King. We’re gonna play some games that only need two players.”

King looked to Phoenix, who cleared his throat. “I was… actually thinking King would come with me?”

Collector froze, but didn’t turn around. “What?”

“I was thinking… King… would… come.”

“So King gets to meet your other friends, but I don’t?!” Collector whirled around, eyes blazing. “Are you trying to steal King from me?!”

Phoenix took a step back. “I…”

Say something

Say something

Say something!

“You can’t have him!” Collector screamed, “You can’t, you can’t, you can’t!”

King floated back towards the Collector, and Phoenix jumped forward, grabbing King’s arms. “No, no, no—”

“Phoenix!”

“I’ve got you, King! I’ve got you!”

I promised Eda and Lilith

I promised King

I can’t let the Collector take him back!

“Mamadalia was right!” Collector howled, “She said you took her friend from her, and you’d take my friend, too!”

Odalia.

She did have another trick up her sleeve.

Collector twisted his finger, and King was jerked forward, dragging Phoenix closer to the Collector. “I said you wouldn’t ever, but she wasright, she was right, you’re nothing but a horrible, no good friend stealer!” His voice rose to a shriek that seemed to pierce Phoenix’s ears, and he was halfway certain if he checked, they would be bleeding. “You were lying about coming back!”

“I wasn’t,” Phoenix said desperately, “I swear, I—"

The Collector tugged again. King cried out, and Phoenix instinctively let go. “No!”

“I! Hate! You! You! Lied! Just! Like! PHILLIP!” Collector held up one hand, and a ball of blinding light formed over his palm.

King’s eyes widened. “Phoenix, RUN!”

A soundwave blasted out of his mouth, throwing Phoenix back towards the river. Phoenix saw the Collector’s magic hit the ground where he’d been, and a moment later, a boom echoed out, and the ground cracked. The shockwave left by the impact threw Phoenix up in the air, and he crashed back down to the ground.

He’s going to kill me

I can’t go back.

Phoenix scrambled to his feet, wheezing for air. Another ball of light sizzled past him on the left, crashing through thick tree trunks. Again, the sound followed moments after, a horrible, cracking, tearing noise. Phoenix bolted towards the river, took a deep breath, and dove in.

The current almost immediately swept him away, pushing him further downstream. Something hissed into the water—another attack from the Collector. The resulting wave sent Phoenix tumbling around in the water like a wet rag, sending the water over the banks. The Collector’s scream of rage disappeared in the roar of the wave.

Phoenix struggled to the surface for air, only to be thrust back down under. Claw up, gulp for air, thrown back beneath the surface in a dizzying whirl of bubbles. Over and over and over and over.

Finally, finally, the wave receded, and the current started to slow, washing him to shallower water. Phoenix stumbled out of the river and collapsed on the bank, retching up water and gasping for air.

He heard the whirring sound of one of the Collector’s stars, and he hauled himself up, staggering towards the nearest cover—a small town. He ducked into an empty house, flopping down on the floor and pressing his back against the wall.

The whirring got louder and louder, then faded into the distance. Phoenix stayed on the floor for a few more minutes, heaving in deep gulps of air. He finally reached up, grabbing the windowsill and pulling himself to his feet. His vision blurred, and he leaned on the wall for support, making his way back outside.

The town was deserted, as far as he could tell—nothing left but a few graffitied messages and an old billboard for… the coven day…

This was the town close to the house. He recognized that billboard, and the build of the houses.

Almost there

Almost…

Phoenix stumbled out towards the trees, barely even stopping to check the skies for more spies. Blood pounded in his ears, and the sides of his vision seemed to fade away, completely focused on the trees ahead and the house he knew lay beyond them.

At least until the ground crunched and cracked beneath him, and in a confusing whirl of dirt and twigs, he was flat on his back, staring up at the sky. Steep dirt walls rose above him, penning him in.

“No!” Phoenix’s voice cracked. He rolled over, staggering back to his feet and jumping for the top of the pit. “No—no, no, no—” His fingers clawed into the soft dirt of the walls, and he slowly slid down, collapsing to his knees. He thumped his head against the wall, sending dirt cascading down to his lap.

I’m so close!

Phoenix curled into a ball, lying down against the earth. His bones seemed to sigh in relief, and his exhausted body told him to stay here forever, to just rest, finally rest.

The sky overhead slowly turned fiery orange, then red, then a dark blue, lit only by the glow of the moon.

And Phoenix heard scuffles in the night.

“Pit three got something,” Hamlet’s voice said, “Good. I was starting to think all the prey got turned into puppets.

Here, Phoenix wanted to call, It’s me, I’m here.

But his voice wouldn’t respond, as if his tongue had died in his mouth. He tried to sit, to stand, to move at all, but his limbs seemed to have fused into the ground, heavy and rooted down.

A glowing ball of light wafted over the pit, and four shadowy forms peered down. “Wait—that’s a witch. We caught a witch—careful, they might be a puppet.”

Something jumped down into the pit, and another glyph lit up. “It’s Phoenix!” Meleager yelped. “Hey—can you hear me?”

Phoenix blinked at him in response, his voice still frozen in his throat.

“Phoenix?!”

“Yeah—he looks pretty rough. Hang on, we’re coming up.”

Meleager drew his finger through the dirt, and something cold formed under Phoenix, pushing he and Meleager up out of the pit. Calloused hands hauled Phoenix up, slinging his arms over their shoulders and bracing his back with their arms. Phoenix stumbled forward with them, fighting to keep his eyes open.

“He’s shaking,” Horus hissed, “Titan—is he going into shock? Breathe, man.”

“Go warn Auric,” Meleager ordered next to Phoenix’s right ear. Footsteps thudded away.

“Oh, yeah—”

Horus wrangled a loop of string over Phoenix’s head, catching in his ponytail. A pendant thumped to Phoenix’s chest, and suddenly, golden light spilled out in front of him from a familiar house surrounded by a familiar fence. Fuzzy blue magic circled the perimeter, blue glyphs that hadn’t been there before glowing on the wooden posts.

“Phoenix is back!” Horus yelled.

The house murmured, and the door swung open with a bang, the hallway behind it filled with shadowy figures. Something flew out and cannoned into him, grabbing him in a tight hug. Phoenix cried out as the force drove glass shards further into his side, and the person wrapped around his waist let go, stepping back.

Mole looked Phoenix up and down, eyes wide and worried. And… searching.

“Jason’s not with me,” Phoenix croaked, “I sent him to the human realm. He’s safe, but he’s… stuck.”

Mole blinked rapidly, eyes welling up, then turned and ran, pushing past the other grimwalkers that were spilling out of the house.

“Mole—” Phoenix let go of Meleager and Horus, stumbling after Mole, but without their support, he only made it a couple of steps before falling.

Meleager caught him. “Alright, big guy. Let’s get you inside.”

“Move,” Venari ordered from the house, pushing grimwalkers out of the way and clearing a path for Meleager and Phoenix. Dozens of eyes tracked his movement, and whispers followed him into the house, fuzzy and indistinct.

Meleager helped Phoenix to the living room, which now featured a medical bench, a couple of cots, and a rack filled with potions and bandages that sat atop a bar counter. Auric was already inside, mixing something up in a bowl, and he pointed to the bench, and a steaming cup sitting on the counter next to him.

“Any life-threatening injuries?” he asked.

Phoenix shook his head. Meleager sat him on the bench and handed him the cup.

“It doesn’t taste very good,” he warned.

Phoenix took a sip. It did, in fact, taste horrible, like someone had put sulfur and spiders in a cup, but it traced a warm track down his throat and pooled in his stomach, warming his whole body and sending a burst of energy coursing through him. His mind seemed to snap back into focus, and all of the dull aches and sharp pains from his escape faded. Meleager took up position in the doorway, planting himself firmly and watching the hallway.

Auric hustled over, reaching for Phoenix’s arm, but Phoenix flinched away before he made contact, holding his arm to his chest. He eyed the other Grimwalker warily.

Auric held his hands up. “It’s okay. I know what I’m doing. Mom’s wiped from holding up the illusion around the house all the time, so I’m taking over on medical duty. You’re going to be alright, Phoenix. You’re safe now.”

Safe.

Something wet dripped down Phoenix’s face and he slowly reached up to feel for a head injury. But the liquid was clear, coming from his eyes instead of a gash.

“I…”

“Oh—” Auric’s hands twitched, fluttering around Phoenix’s shoulder without actually touching him. “Hey—it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“King’s not,” Phoenix whispered, “And Collector…”

“He’s not going to find us. We’re really well hidden.”

Phoenix shook his head. “That’s not what I…”

“Phoenix?”

Caleb pushed through the doorway. “Phoenix! I’m sorry we didn’t get you, everything started collapsing, and people were panicking, and we couldn’t find you, and—”

“Belos is dead,” Phoenix whispered.

“What?”

“He’s dead. Collector killed him.”

Caleb blinked, mouth opening and closing wordlessly. He took a deep breath, and let it all out in a sigh that seemed to melt his shoulders. “Okay. Okay. I… Hey. Cherry told me you got Jason to safety? Was Hunter with him?”

Phoenix nodded, tears still streaming down his face. He couldn’t stop them. He wasn’t sobbing, or even sniffling, the tears just… kept going. Silently, but steadily.

Caleb reached out, gently brushing a bedraggled strand of hair out of Phoenix’s face. “Hey. You did well. You protected your brothers. You held out against the Collector. I’m proud of you.”

“I think Mole’s mad at me,” Phoenix rasped.

“We’ll work it out. He wasn’t just worried about Jason—he was worried about you, too. And he’ll remember that. For now, let Auric take care of you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Caleb stepped back next to Meleager, nodding to Auric. Auric gingerly took Phoenix’s arm, lifting it up. “Okay—hold this arm steady. Dad can help you keep it up if it’s too heavy, just say the word. I want to get the shards out of your side.

Phoenix kept his arm lifted, and Auric went to work, yanking out glass with tiny tweezers. Phoenix winced at each little knife sliding out, but Auric was quick, and soon he was dabbing away blood and applying salves in quick, easy motions. The cuts went numb, along with most of Phoenix’s right side.

“Arm down,” he ordered, “What happened?”

“Jumped through a window.” Phoenix chuckled dryly. “I’ll have to tell AT that he was right—it was easier than going out the door.”

“Not funny.” Auric pulled another glass shard out of his bicep. “Do not tell… AT…” He froze, staring at Phoenix’s arm.

“What?”

Auric grabbed a small knife and cut off Phoenix’s sleeve, sliding it off of his arm. He wormed the knife under the bandages Jason had tied. “Is this arm the only injured one?”

“I—my other arm was—but I think they sealed up on their own, I haven’t been having any—”

Auric tugged backwards, slicing cleanly through the bandages. He repeated the process on the other side. “You haven’t checked under the bandages since you got them?”

“No. Is something wrong?”

A high-pitched sound of distress emitted from Auric’s mouth, and he slapped one hand over his face. “Sorry—sorry, that was… unprofessional. Phoenix, this is very, very important. How did you get these wounds? Possibly more importantly, did anything get in them after you did?”

“Belos’ claws. I don’t think anything got in them? Jason bandaged them quickly.”

“Okay,” Auric said faintly, “Okay. Dad? Can you… come take a look at this? Just confirm that I’m seeing what I’m seeing?”

“What?” Phoenix asked, “What’s wrong?”

Caleb pushed off of the wall, huddling next to Auric. His nostrils flared, and he whirled around. “Meleager. Get Evelyn. Now.”

“What?!” Phoenix demanded, twisting to look at his arm.

The wound had sealed, alright. It had sealed over in a skin of dark blackish green sludge that oozed and bubbled like tar. Veins of the same color spread out downwards under his skin, creeping towards his hands.

Phoenix gagged, clawing at the covered wound. “Get it out!”

Caleb caught his hands. “Phoenix—Phoenix, leave it. Leave it. Look at me. Evelyn’s coming. We’re going to figure this out. Just take a deep breath.”

Phoenix sucked in a deep breath, dragging his eyes away from the festering wound. “What—why-?”

“Looks like Phillip left a little bit of his cursed form behind when he attacked you. If it’s anything, I’m willing to bet it’s just like an infection in a regular wound from bacteria. It’s just… magical.”

“Let me see.” Evelyn gently pushed Caleb to the side, sitting next to Phoenix. She looked… tired. Her face had thinned, and the circles under her eyes were as dark as Caleb’s. But her hands were steady, and she examined the wound with sharp, analytical eyes. “Hm. Alright, let’s get this out.”

Evelyn drew a circle in the air, and golden tendrils drifted out, pushing into the cursed mud. The greenish sludge started to circle out, drawn up the golden threads in a spiral. The mud reached halfway up the tendrils, and the world tilted. Something roared inside of Phoenix, and he slumped forward. Somewhere, he heard a scream, and when he opened his eyes again, he saw Caleb holding Evelyn bridal-style, her body limp.

Auric’s arms encircled Phoenix’s chest, and the grimwalker tugged backwards. “Sit—up—” he grunted, “I’m going—to drop you!”

“Evelyn!” Caleb yelped.

She reached up, gently patting his face. “I’m alive, love,” she said weakly, “I’m okay.” Her eyes slid to Phoenix, sparking with fear. “The infection ate my spell,” she said shakily, “It just… absorbed the magic!”

“It’s Phillip’s curse, alright,” Caleb said grimly. He set Evelyn on her feet, but kept one arm wrapped around her to support her, “Phoenix, you haven’t… felt anything strange? Any pain in your arms? Strain, like you’re falling apart? A… need to consume magic, like palisman?”

Phoenix shook his head. “I didn’t even realize something was wrong until now.”

“Hm.” Evelyn studied him. “Any magical symptoms? Strange dreams? Thoughts that don’t seem like they’re yours? Weird impulses?”

“Not that I can think of?”

Evelyn hissed out a long breath. “Alriiiiiiiiiiiiiight… we have a couple of options here. Obviously, how I normally get at an infection isn’t going to work. One option is that we cut it out.”

Phoenix’s gut churned. “Like…”

“Like with knives,” Evelyn confirmed. She gestured at his arms. “But I don’t want to do that unless I absolutely have to because of how much of your arm it takes up and because I don’t know how deep it runs. It would take a long time to heal, and if we’re not careful, we could permanently damage your arms.”

Phoenix gulped. The idea of carving out a chunk of his arms… sure, he’d just tried to claw it out himself, but this was much more serious. And permanent. “And… the other option?”

“We do nothing,” Evelyn said simply, “It doesn’t seem to be hurting you for now, and based on how it reacted to my magic, it might turn hostile if we try to mess with it. So, we don’t touch it. See if your body burns it out like a regular infection, or if it settles into a harmless part of you. We’ll keep an eye on it, but we’ll leave it alone.”

“I… I think I like that one better.”

“You have to let us know if anything changes and it gets worse.” Evelyn jabbed a finger at him. “I mean it. No playing heroic stoicism, mister. If you so much as get an unusual tingle in your fingertips, you let me know. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good. Hopefully, it’ll clear out on its own. If it doesn’t…” Evelyn shook her head. “We’ll figure it out. For now… we wait.”

xxx

A/N: It is very important to me you guys know that "Phoenix gets Belos Infected due to Belos goop getting into an open wound and in his bloodstream" has been planned in the plot SINCE KING'S TIDE AIRED, and I was SO mad when it happened as a canon plot point.

[aeoki]

SS Finals - Everyday: Chapter 5

Location: Seisou Hall (Yuzuru & Touri’s Room) Characters: Touri & Yuzuru

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< At that time. Seisou hall – Yuzuru and Touri’s room. >

Yuzuru: Yes. Thank you, Hibiki-sama.

Indeed. It seems the Young Master is not feeling very well, so I shall participate in the afternoon practice by myself.

No, it’s not that serious. In fact, I’d say he seems more energetic than usual, judging by his behaviour.

The Young Master has had difficulty falling asleep and waking up as of late. He doesn’t appear to have much of an appetite, either.

It makes me wonder if it’s due to poor health.

Hehe. His loss of appetite may be due to the fact that he noticed I had injected pulverised beef bones into his favourite pudding.

Yes. Growing children should consume more calcium for their developing bones.

To think he’d find out… I’d thought he had the tongue of a child, but it seems he has indeed grown.

Of course, it’s possible I may simply have gotten the wrong idea, though.

After all, I do have a tendency to be a worrywart when it comes to the Young Master.

However, as the butler who has served him for many years, I hope you can trust my instincts.

Right. I suppose he looks to be putting on a brave front.

He appears to have something on his mind after what happened during “SANCTUARY”...

He pushed himself too hard for his work and practice sessions, so I’d like for him to rest in preparation for “SS”.

I’d like him to not overdo it and rest first. Yes – I am first and foremost his butler before I am an idol.

The Young Master’s health is something I must prioritise.

Hmm? I’m his family before I am his butler? Even if that were to be true, that would not change my decision.

It’s a bad habit of yours to joke about a subject matter you would not like to touch upon yourself, Hibiki-sama.

It’s not “Amazing!” Please don’t shout like that – you’ll burst my eardrums.

I may be able to block bullets, but I cannot block soundwaves.

Yes, please do so. I apologise for the trouble, but please let Eichi-sama know. After all, he’s together with you right now, isn’t he?

Hmm? He’s not? I see you two have been doing things separately as of late, Hibiki-sama.

No, I think that’s quite satisfactory. In fact, I find it quite unpleasant to see you two all over each other day in and day out.

…As I’ve said, it’s not “Amazing!” It’s also another bad habit of yours to shout that whenever you cannot be bothered explaining.

Please communicate properly with me, Hibiki-sama.

I learnt that was the most important thing for idols at Yumenosaki.

Yes, that’s all I had to say.

Yes, alright… Then, see you later ♪

…………

...*Sigh* (My ears are ringing. How can he be full of energy all the time?)

(Perhaps it’s because his energy levels are infinite. Meaning, he is simply a child.)

(A child for eternity… I suppose that could be seen as an ideal characteristic in this line of work.)

Touri: Yuzuru~...?

I heard some voices, but did someone come by? Was it Eichi-sama?

Yuzuru: No, no. I was just talking to Hibiki-sama on the phone.

As I mentioned earlier, someone here won’t be attending the practice today, so I called to let him know.

Touri: Hmm? You’re not gonna take part today? Did you have another important appointment or something?

Yuzuru: No. I’m thinking of having you not attend the practice, Young Master… I see you didn’t hear our conversation, after all.

I won’t ask you to be like an emperor, but in order for you to become someone worthy of being a leader for others in the future–

Touri: Oh, geez, just shut up! You nag every time you open your mouth!

…I’m doing my best, so can’t you praise me a little?

Yuzuru: No. In fact, the issue is that you’re doing too much.

Touri: I don’t understand you! I’m gonna attend practice like I’m supposed to! I’m the master, so you should be the one listening to what I say.

Yuzuru: But–

Touri: Zip it, I don’t wanna hear it. Not from someone who’s not gonna tell me the important things.

…I’ve gotta grow bigger and stronger – So big and strong that no one can ignore me.

Yuzuru: …………

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[angelictyphoon]

The jogger who seems to have relaxed somewhat now that he doesn’t see an immediate need to fear for his life or his belongings. Vash and Wolfwood seem too equally clueless to be threatening, and Vash in particular has attempted to capitalize on his pathetic wet cat look. Hiding a grimace behind his fingers, the jogger gives them both a little wave and takes off before Vash can open his mouth and ask another question. “Well, see ya! Good luck with your ship thing!”

Vash blinks after the man’s retreating backside, takes several steps in reverse, then abruptly bounds over to Nick’s side and joins him in investigating the kiosk’s robotic attendant. 

“Guess so,” Vash agrees, having never felt further (and farther) from calling Earth home in his life. If Rem’s mission had been successful, if the Big Fall had never happened, then maybe this was the best outcome they could have hoped for. Even if certain products of the SEEDS scientists’ work makes his stomach twist itself into horrible knots. 

He offers Nick an appreciative smile as they step up to meet the booth’s cheerful tenant.

The attendant is fully housed by a dark, polychrome structure with a pale, scallop-shelled roof. A “:)” greets them on the vibrant, liquid crystal display mounted onto the robot’s equivalent of a head. A torso, arms, and hands, cased in a pearly carapace of all curves and no edges, are visible from the cut out window. Vash assumes there are also legs somewhere in the picture, out of view.

“Uh…” 

He squints, lips pulled inward, with great intensity at the smiley face.

Does it matter whether or not they greet the attendant? Should they just jump straight to their query? That would just be plain rude in any case regardless of who or what they were looking at, so…

“Hi there.”

The attendant’s screen refreshes, replacing the pleasant emoticon with a message. ‘Hello!’ 

It gestures down at a series of buttons with backlit reliefs beneath the kiosk window: soundwaves in front of a person’s mouth, raised dots for touch communication, and a solid sun and its inverse.

“Oh, that's very thoughtful! I think we'll be okay though. My friend and I–” This much context was probably unnecessary, Vash realizes in the midst of his introduction.  He continues valiantly nonetheless.

“We’d like to see some maps of the area. Maybe even some print outs? If that’s possible?” He continues phrasing everything like a question, because he has no idea what sort of response they might get back.

The robot makes an affirmative dinging noise, steps back (giving Vash a chance to marvel at the fact that it does have legs), then pulls down a rolled up screen. A mechanical chugging, clacking noise from behind the screen also sounds promising.

“Wow…This is insanely detailed. They must have had probes scanning the local geography for ages. Or maybe even manned teams on foot?”

Nick does, of course, give Vash that Look—the one reserved specifically for Vash-isms and stupid ideas—but there's an element of fondness behind it. Vash may be saying stupid things, but it's distracting them both from the horrors of this utopian society, so he'll let it pass.

Besides, he's grown to love the stupid Vash-isms.

"Yeah, you're so dashing they can't even snap a picture of you to begin with," he responds playfully. Nick's pretty sure the only one who is capable of getting a clear shot of Vash the Stampede is Meryl, but he supposes the same could be said about himself... just for different, shame-related reasons.

Still, he watches the cogs turn in the Independent's head. It seems like he might've stumbled upon a good idea when Vash starts asking people about Ship-03. It's a damn good thing this seems to be a tourist town, otherwise Vash's lack of knowledge might've raised a few suspicions. While he accosts strangers on their morning walks, Nick spots an information booth that seems to sell tourist info.

With a quick nudge, Wolfwood pardons his interruption, "Sorry for buttin' in—Needles, gonna check out that booth over there. Not sure if they're open or not, but it could be a better tactic than botherin' this fellow."

"Oh, those booths? They're open all day, every day," the man nods towards the kiosk, "If y'all are fresh from Earth, they'll help you more than I can. I'm pretty new to Noman's too. They're run by robots, but they're pretty damn smart and can answer any question you might have thanks to the SEEDS database. Pretty nifty stuff."

Well, that's a convenient alibi.

The man carries on, unbothered by Nick's confusion with the new information he provided the duo. Even in the early hours, it looks like they can seek answers to their questions—assuming this database is all it's chalked up to be.

"I guess we're from Earth, then," Nick shrugs, trying to remain steady in the face of every new fact they learn, "Let's see if we can't get a hold of some maps, yeah? If the planet hosts off-worlders, we can probably even get a world map."

A light breeze rustles the colorful flowers on either side of the fork in the path. It's a shame that this world has such a high cost—it really is beautiful. The younger Wolfwood grips Vash's shoulder in a comforting gesture, gives him a small shake, then shoves both hands in his pants pockets as he continues down the path towards the kiosk.