#derma space

[hairnskintips]

What is Laser Tattoo Removal and Why Derma Space is the Best Place for It in Pune

Understanding Laser Tattoo Removal

Tattoo removal has come a long way from the days of painful, ineffective methods that often left scars. Today, laser tattoo removal stands as the most advanced and effective way to erase unwanted ink. Here’s everything you need to know about this modern technique.

How Laser Tattoo Removal Works

Laser tattoo removal utilizes high-intensity light beams to break down the pigment colors in the tattoo. Here’s a step-by-step breakdown of the process:

Consultation: A thorough consultation is conducted to assess the tattoo and skin type, ensuring the appropriate laser technology is used.

Laser Application: During the procedure, the laser is applied to the tattooed area. The light pulses pass through the skin and are absorbed by the tattoo ink.

Ink Fragmentation: The laser energy causes the tattoo ink to fragment into tiny particles.

Natural Elimination: The body’s immune system then gradually removes these fragmented ink particles, causing the tattoo to fade over time.

Types of Lasers Used

Different types of lasers are used based on the color of the tattoo ink:

Q-switched NdLasers: Effective for darker colors like black and blue.

Q-switched Alexandrite Lasers: Used for green and blue inks.

Q-switched Ruby Lasers: Best for treating green, blue, and black tattoos.

Number of Sessions Required

The number of sessions required for complete removal depends on various factors, including the tattoo’s size, color, age, and the patient’s skin type. On average, multiple sessions spaced several weeks apart are necessary to achieve optimal results.

Benefits of Laser Tattoo Removal

Non-Invasive: Laser tattoo removal is a non-invasive procedure that doesn’t damage the surrounding skin.

Minimal Scarring: When performed by experienced professionals, the risk of scarring is minimal.

Effective: Capable of removing a wide range of tattoo colors and sizes.

Quick Recovery: The procedure involves minimal downtime, allowing patients to resume normal activities soon after treatment.

Why Choose Derma Space for Laser Tattoo Removal in Pune

Derma Space in Pune is renowned for its exceptional laser tattoo removal services. Here’s why it stands out as the best place for this procedure:

1. Experienced Dermatologists

Derma Space boasts a team of highly experienced dermatologists who specialize in laser treatments. Their expertise ensures that each patient receives personalized care tailored to their unique needs.

2. Advanced Laser Technology

Derma Space utilizes the latest laser technology, ensuring effective and safe tattoo removal. Their state-of-the-art equipment can target various ink colors and skin types, providing superior results.

3. Personalized Treatment Plans

Understanding that every tattoo and skin type is different, Derma Space offers customized treatment plans. This personalized approach maximizes the effectiveness of each session and ensures patient satisfaction.

4. Comfort and Safety

Patient comfort and safety are top priorities at Derma Space. The clinic’s modern facilities and stringent hygiene standards create a safe and comfortable environment for all procedures.

5. Post-Treatment Care

Derma Space provides comprehensive post-treatment care instructions to promote optimal healing and minimize any potential side effects. Their team is always available to address any concerns or questions patients may have during the recovery process.

Conclusion

Laser tattoo removal is the most advanced and effective method for erasing unwanted tattoos. Derma Space in Pune offers unparalleled expertise, advanced technology, personalized care, and exceptional results. If you’re looking to remove a tattoo, Derma Space is the best place to achieve clear, beautiful skin once again.

Book a consultation with Derma Space today and take the first step towards a tattoo-free future!

[imaroyalmess]

An Apprentice’s (Unofficial) Guide to House Garments

based on @energ00n 's apprentice AU! (i'm obsessed with the concept of apprentices making up garment rules)

Wc: 2.1k

The datapad—an older model with discolored spots, showing where servos touched its framing—is the first thing Orion Pax’s optics land on as he walks into his new room. Orion snatches the datapad and tilts his helm as he reads the title over again. A peek at the contents shows that it begins with Hey newbie followed by three exclamation glyphs (an overabundance of any glyph, if you asked Orion).

Orion glances up and catches his own gaze in a mirror hanging in front of him. It’s strange, seeing two sheer fabric pieces delicately flowing over the hard metal of his arms—he’s hesitant to move his arm joints in fear of tearing it. That, as well as the jewelry occupying the space where his cog would be creates a vision that’ll take some getting used to.

He pries his optics away and down to the datapad again, dermas pinching as his processor whirrs. Prima explained to him how to care for his garment personally and what if, since the datapad looks old, the data was outdated? No, safer to follow Prima’s instructions and not confuse himself.

Orion places the datapad to the side and sets off to explore his new home.

~

Hello newbie!!!

Congratulations to you and your new position! There’s so much you need to know before you get started. If you wanna make friends, then you’ll wanna keep reading, little mech!

It’s most important that you know about your House garment. No, no, not how to wash oil stains out of it (though that’s good to know!), I’m talking about the meaning behind what you do with it.

Lucky for you, I’ve compiled a list for your easy reference! Learn them well, little mech!!

DO: Wear your House garment at all times! I’ve been told it’s respectful to the Primes. Also helpful so we can tell each other apart. Usually only an apprentice’s special somebot sees them without it! Even then, maybe not.

~

D-16 has always been a stickler for the rules. It’s structure—it’s security. He can’t afford to slip up and never lets that resolve waver. So how exactly did he let pretty blue optics lure him into a cargo hold that supposedly has a passage leading into the (highly forbidden) archives? D-16 isn’t sure.

“Orion Pax,” D-16 hisses, “you idiot, there’s no way—”

Orion hushes him with a digit to his dermas and a wink. D-16 lowers his voice. “Why did you drag me into this?”

Orion pries the cover away from the passage and lowers it to the ground, a soft clank echoing. “I need you to keep watch for me, ‘kay? It’s a tight squeeze for me so you definitely wouldn’t fit.”

D-16 frowns, a retort fully prepped in his processor, but then Orion unclips his garment and D-16’s vocalizer short circuits. For a horrifying and long nanoklik, only static emits from his voice box. “Wh–Pax, what are you doing?!”

“I told you.” Orion rolls his optics. “Barely enough room in there and I can’t risk ripping my clothes up. Prima would offline me.”

He slips the sheer fabric over his helm and presents it to D-16 with splayed servos. Primus, help him. It takes D-16 exactly 1.46 kliks to reboot and shake his helm vehemently. “No? I…you want me to—”

“It’s just my garment,” Orion states, playful but also firm in a way that says I don’t have time to argue. “I’m not asking you to do anything else. Keep it safe?”

Just my garment. If Orion’s antics don’t get him expelled, his cluelessness would. However, he’s correct about one thing, and it’s that their time is running out.

D-16 half-snatches half-cradles the garment, careful not to let the ends touch the ground. With a deep intake D-16 says, “Go. Before they spot us.”

Orion grins, scrambling his way through the crawl space, leaving D-16 to listen for passing mechs. The fabric feels smooth between his digits.

~

DON’T: touch another apprentice’s attire, especially(!) without their permission. A passing touch may be an accident but deliberately grabbing is almost like a kiss!!! Don’t kiss or put your dermas on their clothing either. That has…intimate implications I won’t discuss here.

~

Orion loves watching Megatronus Prime spar with D-16. The size difference between the two could be laughable, if it weren’t for the ferocity that overtakes D-16’s faceplate and the corrections Megatronus throws out to him. Multiple times, Orion’s systems remind him to function as he watches—his friend is a vision under his Prime’s tutelage, all gritted denta, radiating optics, and arcing gauntlets.

Once satisfied, the looming Prime kneels before his apprentice and speaks lowly to him. Orion’s audials are unable to pick up what’s said but the open and hungry way D-16 receives his feedback sates him. Megatronus returns to his full height, nods to release D-16 from his training for the day and Orion perks up at the gesture.

“D!” Orion calls. His friend pads over to what’s becoming Orion’s usual spot, a barely-there smile on his dermas.

“You been waiting long?” D-16 asks, setting his practice spear against the wall.

Orion shakes his helm. A white lie—he’s been there longer than he should’ve but it’s not his fault that watching D-16 fight is so fascinating. “What were you learning today?”

D-16 dutifully launches into the intricacies of battle strategy and close-ranged combat. Orion props his helm up with his loose fist as he listens—mostly listens, at least. That task becomes difficult as the jargon grows thick and D-16’s broad servos capture Orion’s attention as they move in small motions.

An idea pops into his processor. “Why don’t you show me?”

A pause, then D-16 scoops up his practice spear, muttering, “It’ll look stupid without an opponent.”

Orion hops over the half-wall that’s been separating them and bounces over to stand in front of his friend. “I’m right here though.”

“No,” D-16 said immediately. “It’s not safe.”

“C’mon, D,” Orion teases. “I trust you.”

D-16 cycles his optics and Orion’s lopsided grin grows. “It’s not about that. You don’t know what you’re doing and even if it’s not real, I could hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Orion states, full of confidence.

“I could,” D-16 argues. “Then Prima would offline me for harming his one and only apprentice—”

Orion begins to circle D-16, close enough to reach but far enough that he could evade it. “I know what you’re doing, Pax. It’s not going to work.”

“Is it not?” Orion teases as he keeps in D-16’s blindspot, his friend calmly trying to catch sight of him again. He takes a chance while behind him, dashing out and giving the purple fabric of D-16’s House garment a good tug.

“Pax,” D-16 chastises. Yes, it’s a sparkling-like move, Orion knows and does not quite care. He does it again, giggles erupting from his vocalizer as D-16’s calmness dissipates.

Orion manages to tug at D-16’s garment twice more before D-16’s arm snaps out, captures the joint above Orion’s servos, and crowds him against the nearby wall. The yellow of D-16’s optics blaze. Orion notices how close they are, how his friend’s weight is the only thing that keeps him upright, and he grins.

D-16 growls, “Orion.” And honestly? Orion isn’t sure what’s going through his processor when his reaction to hearing D-16 say his name is to bite down on the gathered cloth by one of the gauntlets he’d been admiring earlier.

D-16 drops him. His aft hits the ground with a rough clank and Orion cries out, “hey!”

But D-16 isn’t listening. His optics are focused on the spot where Orion’s intake fluid darkened cloth’s already deep purple. D-16’s expression is horrified.

“Oh scrap, D.” Orion scrambles to his pedes. “It should go away, right? I’ve never—D! Where are you going? Wait!”

Before Orion can say another word, D-16 runs—no, sprints—out of the practice arena, leaving Orion there alone wondering what he’d done wrong.

~

DO: keep your garment clean! It’s polite and respectful, blah blah blah, you should know this. But! What you don’t know is that leaving a mark on another apprentice’s garment, accidental or not, is a serious offense! You tear it, that’s a show of disrespect to the apprentice and their House and you might have to fight them. On the other servo, if you, say, put a small decal on the cloth, you’re effectively marking that mech as your own. Same goes for intake fluid, though that just tells everyone that you and that bot are...together in a different sense. Catch my drift? 

~

“I’m sorry, D.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know but I made you upset, didn’t I?”

“...no. You didn’t.”

~

DON’T: wear another House’s garment!!! Unless you’re ready to be conjunxes. And I’m serious! It’s saying your devotion to that mech is equivalent to your devotion to your Prime. Ask yourself, little mech. Would you swear undying fealty to them? Would you choose that mech over your Prime? No? Then don’t do this.

(Okay, I might be a little overdramatic, but seriously, don’t.)

~

What fascinates Orion is how different the textiles feel from one another. He’s read about the arts and asked on multiple occasions to speak with the bot who made his House clothes because he must know more. Orion shifts the material of D-16’s garment between his digits, reveling in the weight and watching the fabric fold as he moves.

He drapes a length of it over his arm and turns to D-16, who’s dozing in and out of a light rest cycle. “Do you think purple would suit me?”

“Hm?”

Orion nudges his friend with the bend of his arm still wrapped in material. This time, D-16 rouses, even if only a little. “Your House garment, silly. How does it look?”

“Fine,” D-16 says.

“Just fine?” Orion complains. “You’re the meanest friend ever. You won’t even let me try?”

D-16 resettles his helm. “Not mean. ‘M honest.”

Orion shoves his shoulder plate, only serving to further tangle himself. “Your honesty is mean.”

“Would you prefer a more elaborate answer?”

“Not anymore,” Orion mutters. This time, he lets D-16 rest as he lays the garment over his lap and smoothes out the wrinkles he’s made. 

~

Congrats!!! Now you’re fully equipped to take on the social terrain in the House of Primes!!

In case you didn’t read all that, basically, keep to your own business and every other bot will keep to theirs. You’re lucky you have me to help you out with this because I didn't have anyone explain it to me and I broke about every rule before an apprentice told me. I was so embarrassed!!! No need to thank me though, little mech, whoever you may be. Just have fun! Be responsible! Follow these rules!!! I promise, you’ll have a better time if you do. Byeeee ;)

~

D-16 might cease to function—if he hasn’t already. On this particular solar cycle, Orion had dragged D-16 into another one of his schemes and deemed his quarters the meeting point. The door slid open, Orion welcomed him inside, and D-16’s optics landed on a datapad that made his spark drop.

That thing isn’t supposed to exist—not physically, anyway. How did it get here? How in Primus’ glory does Orion have it?!

“D?” Orion cuts through his panic.

“Have you…” D-16 can barely force his vocaliser to say the words. “Have you read it?”

Orion raises an optical ridge. Confused but fond. “Read what?”

A digit points at the datapad, though D-16 didn’t consciously give the command for it to do so. “That.”

“Oh that?” Orion ambles over to the offending object. “It was here when I moved in. Weird right? Maybe Prima put it here in case I forgot what he told me?”

D-16’s joints creak with the effort it takes to stride over and pick up the datapad. “You don’t need it though, do you?”

Please say no, D-16’s processor screams.

Orion laughs, though his confusion melds into concern as well. “No, I guess not…did you need it? You can take it, if you do.”

And D-16 then and there wishes Orion Pax had chosen a better friend, one who he deserves. Except, D-16 is also selfish and cold in ways where Orion is warm—he doesn’t wish that, in actuality. (It feels kinder to say that he does. Orion deserves kind.)

“Thanks,” D-16 says for lack of any explanation that wouldn’t be a flat-out lie.

Then Orion smiles at him, as he always does, and pats him on the chest plate, right next to his empty cog slot, right on his garment. D-16 musters a quirk of his dermas and tucks the datapad away from Orion’s prying optics. It’s hard to feel guilty about it, when Orion seems so content and his servos make his garment so warm.

~~~

A/N: tysm for reading! i'm sorry if i got any details wrong, i read all the comics over again to make sure i got it all correct but just in case i missed something! please check out the main comic if you haven't already. the worldbuilding, writing, and art style are all stunning!

[robolvrr]

Tf1 D-16 and Tf1 Megatron with a femme cybertronian reader that was his idol (and crush) in Iacon? Readers like let’s just say a queen in Iacon👍 Thank you!

phoenix, sing your song! ✧⁠*๑ 🎤

d-16/megatron x femme!cybertronian idol.

gladly! took some liberties. mild suggestive under the cut.

d-16

"heh heh. does dee have a crush?"

"wh— you know what pax. i'm not even gonna entertain that question with a response."

"lotta words for 'yes i wanna smooch on phoenix's tailpipes' -- whoof, OW!"

you know how d-16 worships his idols. which there aren't many but entertainment culture is actually very encouraged in iacon. except for the cogged, this is simply as it's stated -- enrichment. for the cogless? it's escapism and a source of motivation.

there's sentinel prime, of course. and megatronus, though the whole mining barracks knows that. however... there is also you. phoenix, sweetest vocals this side of the planet.

jazz was actually the one who got him into your music. orion isn't the only mech that frequently sneaks up to indulge in city life. he's just the one that usually gets caught and brags about it.

jazz managed to drag him to the farthest, farthest corner of an open venue for one of your shows. had to climb buildings and balance on a ledge just to view from above the concert space and the thousand of mechs crowded below. you're cogged and while he really doesn't pay too much mind to them outside of when the race occurs, he thinks you're... very, very pleasant to look like.

you got ruby plating and your chrome is sparkling.

there's lightning gold accents trim at your door-panel wings and your eyes look a lot like his. hazy, orange and bright with an energy he wants to cup in his servos.

entire time you sing your spark out he's sitting still. (actually, he's vibrating.) jazz has a lazy smile on his dermas and asks him if he wants to score some merch once the guards clear out.

after that evening? he shuffles his megatronus posters and stickers around his humble locker and plasters your face there in the space near his mirror. almost looks like you're smiling at him.

at first he tried his best to learn more about you. jazz jokes that he's accidentally created some superfan monster.

like, did you know that you were actually originally an bellhop? he can't imagine you fluttering after mechs with their luggage, but once upon a time you did.

there was a club in the hotel you worked in - angellite.

past bio and autobiodatas tell about how you worked your way up through the ranks before finally scoring a spot to getting to a microphone.

the rest? history.

so you're pretty, talented, pretty, hardworking -- did he mention pretty too?

jazz doesn't always accompany but d-16 starts to sneak out frequently when he isn't buried in work to any and every event he can.

meet and greet? you can bet he used all his rations to bribe a mech to bribe another mech to bribe the announcer to get his questions up to you.

there isn't an action, though he takes the "prime gossip" catalogues not as seriously, he isn't aware of regarding you.

"this one's out to the brave miners who keep this city living. half proceeds will be going to better recharge and work conditions and equipment. i love you iacon!"

that show had caused a lot of drama. he thought your unmoving support and genuine want to connect with all of your fans for the better of the city to be super inspiring.

there's rumors of you visiting the mines, shortly before the iacon 5000. he will call a million cycles off if it meant getting to see you, not yearning through pictures and recordings and miles of distance.

hums your songs under his breath when he works.

orion does not shut up about it. he enjoys your music too but mostly is happy d-16 is happy. though he does joke that he clearly has a type.

megatron

"no more hiding. no more deceit. stand with me, or fall with everything!"

you recall the fall of iacon with stunned melancholy. there isn't the time of forever to process what went down that fatal day.

the support meet in the mining sectors had been cancelled after the race. you were just as inspired by the rowdy pair that had flung themselves into the danger of an event that was never built for them to participate.

it hurt, to hear they had passed away. sentinel had given a grand speech and his condolences even while on the surface.

he had his loyal femme reach out personally. airachnid coldly informed that the death of the miners had momentarily halted the energon collection.

you were rigid when she suggested you perform. a modest showing of mourning, personally scribed to the miners and their fellow workers.

"this should motivate them", she had whispered. ""it's what they would have wanted."

what a nuke in your lap to find out quickly that had been a lie. all of it had. and you felt sick.

had any of your income, any of your efforts, even gone to your largest supporters? had you just been showboated around to be a. shiny little dream? keep the common mech in wanting?

before you could even figure out how to react, a silver mech towered over many and ripped the very thorn from your side clean in half.

his coolant sprayed all over. you had never seen a mech... die before. and sentinel was far from just that. he may have been a false one, but he was a prime.

you fixed your optics and zoomed in. megatron, the beast has yelled. megatron is my name.

then the buildings started to crash. the city crumbled as chaos threatened to envelop it. you had damaged your pedes and tangled your legs in rubble but even your own pain is not loud enough to pierce through the frightened masses. you're scared and angry and confused.

when the dust settles, you can't even vent yourself to comfort. larger arms yank your mangled chassis free and suddenly you're flying, shrieking as dozens follow. you watch iacon get smaller and smaller and when you finally stop twitching, weakly gaze at the head of formation.

a oiled tank, bursting through rock like pit on wheels.

your processors offline after that. you just recall floating, smoky oil and rage.

d-16

"the queen of iacon. that sounds nice."

i like to think that miners in particular rarely have the time to blow off too much steam. seriously. the captains and proctors make sure they work every klik of their shifts.

during recharge? well, that's a different story. the barracks are intimate but most don't actually worry about being a prude.

d-16 is constantly stressed. orion is on his hip nearly all the time so he enjoys slipping away to the shower stalls in his lonesome after grueling mining and just.. sit.

when he sits, his processors wander.

lately? they like to circle around you. you're not like sentinel prime or megatronus. you are tangible. he gets closer and closer to your radiance the more bold he gets.

his crush is wholesome and if not somewhat obsessive. like a hyperfixation. he doesn't mean to stare at your figures but you're just so cute.

your voice is a powerhouse too. he has wondered after quiet, whiny moments if your praise is just as poetic.

loves, loves your frame. it's flawless. jealousy doesn't grip his spark like it occasionally does weaving through the crowded city during daylight. he has to dunk his head in hot oil when he thinks about that lethargic grin and your helm speckled in rock and dust at his side.

has made one, deleted ahem... tribute video to you.

megatron

"go on. sing, songbird."

you were taken insurrection day by one of the seekers nearly torn apart.

much of your memory bank was corrupted. at least, that is what the doctor told you.

you aren't very trusting of his words. his attention is an extension of his master's, which leaves little time for you to plan escapes or hide from the inevitable.

megatron has been emptied, carved up and resurrected as a troubled, stubborn force of nature. he clearly is able to sift positive bonds aside as the sticky, hot upset he's toiled with overpowers them all.

however, you and him? never ended in bad terms. and that is the problem.

you're alarmed to learn he was the very miner that was pronounced dead to all of iacon. he speaks low and measured and you try your best to read him, because he's on the precipice of snapping what seems to be all the time.

the base of the newly birthed decepticons is quiet. you don't belong. the brand on your chassis doesn't belong.

he's still clinging to you. behind the heavy-duty doors of his berth, he tosses and turns in his rest, plagued with his actions.

his servos barely pleasure. though you sit heavy on his glossa as he lets those weapons of destruction give him a moments peace.

megatron isn't as manipulative and conniving as he comes to be later down the road. he still visits you though and you begin to feel guilty.

if you plan on being affectionate to gain your freedom it's a mistake.

suddenly, you're thrust into his arms. he scratches your paint. he's saying nasty, awful prayers in your audials and squeezing every saccharine lilt hungry.

"keep going... keep. hn. singing."

robolvrr 2024.

[pinkanonwrites]

Always Tip Your Bartender

MTMTE Swerve/Human Reader, 2000 words, GN Reader, Valveplug, Oral, Begging

I finally stopped procrastinating on this and I'm so glad I did cause I really enjoy it. Here's Swerve getting his spike sucked AND his valve ate as a treat.

Primus, you were going to kill him. Or break up with him, which would pretty much accomplish the same thing cause Swerve didn't really know how he would live without you. 

Either way, he was dead. And he had no one to blame but himself.

The evening had been going so well. You'd always insisted how much you enjoyed watching him work, and he was more than happy to have you sitting at the edge of the bar, dangling your feet off the side and chatting with whatever bot occupied the nearest barstool as he flitted around taking orders and refilling drinks. Whenever he'd brush past you'd hit him with that brilliant smile, the one that made him go all weak in the processor and wobbly in the knee joints, before playfully waving him off, insisting he gets back to work. 

Was it incredibly distracting? Yes. 

Had he broken several glasses while admiring you? Also yes. 

Would he ever want you to stop? Not in a billion cycles.

But tonight had been particularly busy, and maybe Swerve hadn't been able to give you quite as much attention between orders as he usually had. A concept that had completely slipped his mind until the moment Whirl raised a single claw and pointed you out across the bar.

"Don't look now, Chatterbot. But I think Fizzle over there's making a move on your fleshy!"

Spinning on his heel, there was a tight clench in Swerve's tanks when his optics landed on you. Fizzle stood, drink in servo and elbow strut propped on the bar, leaning more than a little bit too close into your personal space. Every time you seemed to shuffle back he moved closer, and though Swerve wasn't the best at reading lips he could tell by the furrow for your brow and crinkle of your nose that you were not enjoying the conversation at hand. He tossed the tray he was holding onto Whirl's table and ducked through the crowd, dodging flailing elbows of dancing patrons as he hurried back to your side.

As he neared, the drone of chatter and thumping music gave away enough that he could finally begin to pick up snippets of your conversation.

"I mean, everybody's curious!" Fizzle slurred, identifiably sloshed just by the way he spoke. "Just cause you don't hear bots talking about it doesn't mean we're not all thinking it."

"Look, dude, I'm not really comfortable with you asking about-"

"So how's it work, huh? Barely the size of a mini-con and you can still get spiked down by one of us? Swerve's kinda puny, yeah, but he's like twice your size! Got a real greedy little valve, don't y-HGGK!?!"

The next thing Swerve knew, Fizzle was laid out flat on his back at the edge of the dance floor. It took the sudden, hushed stares of the surrounding patrons and the sting of his knuckles before Swerve realized that the one who had punched the words out of Fizzle's slimy, inconsiderate intake was him. 

"Swerve!"

Oh Primus. You did not sound happy.

"I was- he'd just-" He stammered, making aborted hand gestures in between you and himself and the 'not unconscious but fairly woozy' Fizzle. "I don't, uh, he uh, really shouldn't be talking like that."

You hopped down from the bar and stalked over to him, gripping the edge of his forearm plating with an unexpected force and tugging him in the direction of the storeroom. He could have resisted you, if he wanted to. But he let himself be led away instead, pedes scuffing and dermas trembling as you tugged him along. The rolling din of the bar began to pick up again as you moved away, and Swerve could swear he heard Whirl yell something sarcastically supportive over the rumble of the crowd. A sound that was quickly cut off with the resounding metal slam of the storage room door.

“Um… H-Hi, sweetspark. Angel. Light of my life.”

“Get down here.” You snapped your fingers, pointing to the ground. Swerve slowly took a knee.

“Look, about Fizzle. I’m sorry, okay! I know I shouldn’t have hit him like that, I just couldn’t let- MMPFH?!~”

But before he could finish his desperate apology your lips were meeting his own, fingertips gripping and caressing the sides of his helm and brushing a ticklish trail along his armor. Your tongue lathed across the seam of his dermas and he couldn't help but open his intake to you, servo falling instinctively into the curve of your spine as you deepened the kiss. He let out a low, needy rumble of his engine when you began to pull away and you chuckled.

“Whu… Whuh?” He managed to force out, his processor still halfway caught between the realization that you weren't actually mad at him.

“I can't believe you actually punched him. In the face. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.”

“So you're not- mmfh,~” His train of thought was only slightly interrupted by you pressing another wet kiss to his dermas. “Not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? He deserved it. Plus, I got to see my big, strong bot standing up for my honor.~”

“Ohhhh, thank Primus.” Swerve slumped his helm into the crook of your neck and let out a relieved groan, half from his own emotions and half from the pleasant tickle of your little fingers toying with the exposed cabling just beneath his helm. You had put a foot up on the bend of his thigh in order to reach him properly, and his servo gave your butt a soft squeeze when it came up to support you. “Thought you were gonna tear into me back here, to be honest.”

“Aww, did I worry you?” You pressed another fluttering kiss to the curve of his jaw. “And here I was thinking I should be giving you a reward instead.” He shivered as your lips traced just below his audial. A familiar clang and a muffled curse reverberated from Swerve, the unmistakable sounds of his spike pressurizing behind its panels. “That sounds like a yes?”

“Hoo yeah. Absolutely. Yes please. Whatever you want, sweetspark.”

“Wanna say yes a few more times?” You joked, sliding from his grasp and sinking slowly to your knees in front of Swerve’s modesty panel. As your fingers traced over his Autobrand the panels snapped back with a snikt and his chubby spike pressurized eagerly into your hands.

“Do you need me to?” He babbled through a wobbly grin. “Cause I will! I'll say whatever you want me to say if it'll keep your hands on me.” 

“...Y’know what? Yeah. I like that. Keep talking for me, baby.”

“Y-Yeah? I can talk all da-AaAaaAayy!?” His words choked off into a glitchy, garbled mess as you teased the underside of his head with the tips of your fingers. “Oh, oh! Mmmhmm, ahh! That’s se-sensitive…”

“I know, baby.” You cooed. Your fingers traced the biolights up the length of his spike before smearing the bead of transfluid at the tip wetly across the head. Swerve’s panels rattled as he shuddered, digits clawing absentmindedly at the door he was braced against to keep his hands from gripping his own spike. “That’s what makes it good though, isn’t it?”

“Mmh! So mean,” A low curl of steam hissed between his dentae.

“You love it.~”

“M-Maybe… Hngh!~” He gasped as you pinched the head between two fingers. “Ah! Ah! O-Okay, I do! I like it! Please, just- Ohhhh…~” He trailed off into another garbled mess as your lips wrapped around the tip, teasing the slit with your tongue. You took as much of his spike into your mouth as you could, stroking the rest in a tight fist as you swallowed around the solid, unrelenting obtrusion. The sharp metallic screech of his fingers gripping the door was only drowned out by his whines and gasps, staticky glitches increasing which each bob of your head. Drool and pre-fluid trickled from the corners of your mouth and down his length, further slicking your hand. When you pulled away with a wet, shaky breath, Swerve thought his spark was going to pop out of his chassis right then and there, valve cycling desperately around nothing as you pressed a slick kiss to the underside of his spike head with a barely audible moan.

“Swerve.” You murmured, your eyes hooded and glossy, your lips still grazing his spike.

“Yes?” He responded, twice as desperate and equally as enamored.

“Spread your legs for me. Push your hips out a little more.”

He let out a low, whimpering groan, widening his stance and pushing his hips out from against the wall. You ducked your head further, keeping a tight hand around his spike as you dragged your tongue up the length of his valve. 

“Ohh!~ Oh, oh that’s- ahhhh, ah, ah!~” Swerve did his best to fight the urge to wriggle, stabilizers shivering with need as you buried your mouth in his plush folds. Each time your nose bumped against his anterior node he let out a hiccuping gasp, transfluid dribbling  from both his tip and his valve as his calipers cycled around your intruding tongue. “It's so soooft, y-your mouth, I can’t- MMH!~ Oh, oh, please I- please make me…”

“You wanna cum?” You murmured, lips still pressed to his valve as you furiously stroked his spike, the rhythmic shlick shlick shlick almost drowned out by Swerve’s whirring fans and desperate whines.

“Yes, yes yes please! P-please, I want it, I want- AHHH!~” His vocalizer pitched up into a staticky howl as you took his node between your lips and sucked, hard. He glitched and wailed, helm thunking back against the door as his spike pulsed again and again in your grip, thick waves of transfluid shooting over your head and splattering against the store room floor. His valve clenched rhythmically, more translucent, pinkish fluid spilling down your chin and neck in kind. Only when he stopped shivering beneath you and fell limply back against the door did you draw away, fighting the prideful smile that tried to crawl across your face at Swerve’s ragged venting and still-flickering visor. You rested your cheek against his plated thigh, stroking the other with the hand no longer cradling his flagging spike. His helm lolled forward a bit, clarity beginning to blink back into his optics as he gazed down at you. Suddenly he let out a sharp gasp, one servo flying to cup the back of your head, digits splayed and feeling around frantically. Then he let out a soft, relieved sigh, the desperate groping of his servo slowing into something absent-minded and soothing.

“Whew. I didn't get any in your hair.” A quiet chuckle slipped through his dermas as he twiddled a bit of your hair between two digits. 

“Got it a few other places though. Not that I'm complaining.” You made a show of wiping your fingers across your chin before drawing them into your mouth and lapping them free of his fluids. He shivered, a delicate blue glow rising to his face plate, split wide in a crooked smile.

“C-careful now, or you might get me all charged up again. Then we’ll be here all night.”

“You’re saying that like you think it'd be a bad thing.” You teased.

“It wouldn't, if I didn't have to get back to work soon…” Swerve trailed off, that gentle glow beginning to rise into a furious blush. “How, uh… How much of that do you think they could hear?”

Beyond the door you could just barely make out a congratulatory cheer in a voice that sounded just a little bit too close to Whirl’s. His celebration seemed to be working up the crowd, and soon a resounding cacophony was echoing through the storeroom door. Swerve’s free servo flew up to cover his face plate, helm clanking back against the door as he let out a humiliated groan.

“Oh Primus. I'm never gonna live this down.”

[cyberapid]

Earthspark Bumblebee x Cybertronian Reader

reader isn't gendered, brief description of a Terran bleeding

—•—•—

The yard of the Malto family is quiet, besides the gentle clanking of Bumblebees stray movements as he holds himself upright on one arm and the occasional sounds of the animals that live there.

“I wish to do a full bio-mechanic and diagnostic scan as soon as possible, Conjunx. Your file has shown that its been more than a year since your last, this dissatisfies me,”

His optics squint open just enough to allow you to see shining blue before they close again with a short huff, optical ridges pinching together and dermas shifting into a place to show his annoyance. “It's not that big of a deal. I run like a dream, but if it'll satisfy you– sure.”

A small whirl of excitement leaves you before you can think of suppressing the excitement coursing from your chassis to your vents, a noise that if you were looking at the yellow bot you’d see brought a small smile to his face plate.

You both fall quickly back to a comfortable silence enjoying the ‘weekend’ that the older Maltos children claimed needed to be without lessons where instead you relax or play in the case of the children, just as quick your calmness was suddenly interrupted by the barn door being slammed open by the twins, Hashtag, and Robby all looking panicked and quickly speaking over one another— Their rambling is cut short by Bumblebee slamming to the ground with a thud so loud it has Robby leave the ground for a moment.

“Slow down! Slow down. What happened?” Your Sparkmate’s quick to push himself back to his pedes as the small horde of the Maltos children nearly surround him— he tries desperately to calm their jumbled panic into something understandable for the pair of you as they drag the two of you towards the entrance of the barn.

A quick scan with your optics covers them in a blue hue, that comes up with no external or internal injuries on them. But the heartbeat of the small human holding your servo to drag you towards the barn is both faster and far more erratic than usual, showing his panic, although you can already tell that from his actions alone.

“It's Nightshade! It was an accident, we only wanted them to come play. Honest!” Robby is quick to give in explanation, seeming to be the calmest child in this situation even with his heightened state.

The two of you are rushed into the barn and then under where you're met with Mo and Jawbreaker fretting over Nightshade, who's clutching their lower tibulen in panic. A scan isn't necessary to see the main issue as Nightshades servos are covered in the familiar blue hue of energon leaks down their pede and is covering their servos.

Nevertheless you quickly scan the young bot, where its registered that one of their fuel lines have been sliced, thankfully not deadly and nothing notably serious,

“Would you remove your servos, Nightshade. I will be repositioning you,” the Maltos children move aside, tense, as you raise and place Nightshade with ease onto a tall workstation. Unlike the children who give you space to work— Bumblebee doesn't care much for the personal space of the young Terran or yourself as he leans forward inspecting your quick work to find the fuel line in question with a silent panic. “An easy fix but this will hurt, sparkling. I will be quick,” without much explanation after you begin work with pinching the affected line, which causes a yelp of pain from the young Terran whose servos snap to grab Bumblebees. The procedure is small and finished with a practiced ease and quickness as the afflicted line is wrapped in a sturdy tape– not new but better.

Twitch is the first to react with a strangled yell before wrapping her arms around her sibling, resting their helms against one another's, “I'm so sorry! We’ll never sneak up on you again, promise!” her affection is returned by her much taller sibling whose hug nearly engulfs her.

“You should cleanse your servos before- okay,” your suggestion is heard by none of the Maltos children as their excited chatter fills the once tense air but you're just as quickly distracted as you feel your Conjunx's servos creep around your mid-plating from behind before fully wrapping his arms around, sending your spark into a dizzying flutter, “i also have to cleanse mine– so don't, bumblebee,” blue stained servos are held just out of reach of his own wandering ones as a soft rumble from his vents sends vibrations down your back chest plate.

“I think I'll survive,” being behind you hides the cheeky grin he sports but not the warm air from his vents breathing on the back of your helm. “You did great,”

“It's something I've done countless times. I’d be worried if not- the energon, enough Bumblebee.”

[solar4seekstron]

Plan B - Bond

Transformers One!Megatron x Cybertronian!GN!Reader

Solars Indie Series

Plan A, Plan C, Plan D, Plan E, Plan F, Plan G, Plan H, Plan I, Plan J, Plan K, Plan L, Plan M, Plan N

Introduction Indie Series

Content: 16+

TW/Tags: Toxic Relationship, Mild abuse, wrong mindset, trapped relationship, D is definitely crying behind Megatron's eyes, Reader is trying to hang in there.

Notes: If you are uncomfortable with these tags, you don’t have to read. Please do not attack or harass anyone who chooses to comment and like. Feel free to comment this is a safe space. We do not judge on this page.

It’s been a few months now….After some time since returning the other high guards. Even the main trio haven’t really said anything to you. You weren’t allowed in the meeting rooms of the new ship they were able to find. Your only choice to walk around without Megatrons supervision was in your shared berth room. Along with the throne room. You both have already bonded that night once reunited. It wasn’t what you dreamed your first time with him would be. And you did have a few dents. But you had a plan. You couldn’t stop now…..even if his bond with you was draining you every day.

Though he always kept you next to him. You have many times tried to find work around the ship, even asking Megatron if you can work. Even if it’s under another supervision. But….well that never goes well.

He always shuts that down and it always leads to him yelling at you and making you stay in your shared berth room.

Every night you made sure to pretend to be asleep. His attempts to lay always happen every few nights. But he doesn’t always get his way when he sees you’re already recharging.

One night when returning from an exhausted day of training. You were already in the berth and was laying on your side. Your back to the door. You kept your optics closed as you pretended to sleep. Your bond in your spark is calm so he wouldn’t suspect anything. As he got closer he sat on the berth. His weight can be felt as he slowly laid down….He moves closer.

His body against yours as he uses his arm to support himself as the other wraps over yours on top of your stomach. His dermas pressing on the side of your neck setting a few gentle kisses.

His panel against your aft as his kisses continue as his kisses go to your shoulder. You let out a small groan. Trying to give him the idea you’re asleep now. He continues as he whispers “I love You” to your audio sensor. You know it’s D says this. He gently woke you up. His cervo gently moved you by your waist as he spoke your name. You realized you don’t have a choice.

You let out a ‘Hm?’ And slowly opened his optics. He then placed his cervo on your stomach gently turning you to look towards him as she stared down at you. “You know I haven’t been able to have you in the arms in a while….Are you avoiding me?” He leans his helm low as his dermas presses to yours. Giving you a gentle kiss.

Once he pulled away, you spoke. “You drain me every day with your constant need for the cause. What do you expect. I’m exhausted.” You turned away once more. You really were in a bad mood.

He growled and pulled your back against the bed and got on top of you. You glared up at him as you waited. To hear what he wants to say. He was on top of you as he stared Down at you. His frown still there. He then moved your legs around his waist as his upper body leans down to you. “You are so damn draining. I am your sparkmate. We are in this together. Isn't that why you came back?” You stayed silent and looked away.

Your optics were almost about water again but you were able to remain strong.

You can feel his panel press against yours. One of his cervos grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. “Why don’t you be a good bot and please your sparkmate hm?” His dermas connect with yours as you pressed your cervos against his chest. His other cervo trying to open your panel.

You never returned the kiss and stopped his cervo at your panel. He pulled away from the kiss with a growl as he glared down at you.

“I am not laying with you tonight! I. Am. Drained! Take care of yourself if you’re that despera-.” You spat bringing your head up a bit closer to his as you spoke. Until you felt a slap on the side of your helm. You looked at him, your helm still turned to the side as he stared down at you, his cervo still in the air. He almost seemed surprised too.

“I…Y/N I didn’t…” you lifted your legs together and kicked him off. You’d then get up running to the door “Don’t follow me!” You ran off as he went after you “Y/N get back here!”

Your escape didn’t last long. You didn’t know much of the ship's halls and were soon cornered. Megatron was able to get you and bring you back to the berth room. You tried your best to fight against his hold but after the door closed he pinned you against the door. “Stop Fighting Me! If you’d just listen then you wouldn’t get hurt!”

You turned your helm away. Your optics closed as the tears came down your cheeks. He saw. His optics turned orange for a moment as he looked down at you. He was mad. And you kept trying to get away from him. You know this will become. A constant thing. And convincing him will even take longer by this point. Your optics remained closed. He stared down at you and when his optics narrowed at you. He let out a sigh. His forhelm on your shoulder as your helm remains turned away. He closed his optics as he let go of your arm. You were shaking so much. He then leaned back so there’s a few inches of space between you both. He gently held both of your cervos and kissed the back of both of them.

You kept shaking as he rested his dermas against your neck. One of his cervos then goes to your helm. Wiping away the tears as you remained still. “Let’s……go to sleep….” His other cervo still holds one of yours as his other goes to your waist as he leads you to the berth. You finally opened your optics. Only looking down.

As you both made it to the bed. He sat first. He was big enough to almost cover the berth. And laid you next to him. His arm a pillow for your helm as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer. You didn’t look at him as he spoke “You may wonder around a bit more. But…..it’ll be by my side. I don’t need the other cons trying to take you in with their optics.” His other cervo held yours that was resting against your chest. Bringing it to rest on his own chest. His cervo covered yours as he had a firm grip on yours.

”Good Night.”

You said nothing. He groaned and close his optics. Maybe they’ll behave better, he thought. You though. Really didn’t catch any sleep that night….Not at all……

I hope you all enjoyed part 2. I really enjoyed writing for Megatron in this story and I'm not sure what happened. I just know I wanted to write this for their story. I don’t know if I’ll make a part 3. If anyone wants a part 3 and have an idea for it do let me know through messages. Have a good rest of your day now my lovelies!!

[tinydefector]

Hello tinydefector!!! I wanted to say that I admire your work, especially the book "Human's effects". So could you please add Skids and Rodimus to the continuation of the book, I would really like to see them. Thank you for your attention.

Chaos on board - Human effects

Rodimus

Human effects masterlist

Prev

Next

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: workplaces issues in space

__________

The Ambassador walks into the Ultra Magnus' office to see Megatron and Magnus both glaring at Rodimus and Daniel. "What have you two done this time? Did they go out asteroid surfing again? " They ask while making their way towards the table. As Megatron glared daggers across the table, Ultra Magnus heaved a long-suffering sigh at the newcomer's inquiry. "Worse than that, I'm afraid. It seems Rodimus and Daniel decided simulated space warfare was an... appropriate pastime." Magnus' field pulsed annoyance. 

Rodimus waved a dismissive hand, uncowed. "Aw, c'mon Mags! We were just having a little target practice in the hold, no harm done. How were we supposed to know the booster rockets were still online?"

Megatron growled deep in his intake. "You were supposed to conduct comprehensive safety checks on our cargo!." His field roiled with barely-leashed rage. 

Daniel scratched his head sheepishly. "He's, uh, not wrong. Things may have gotten a teensy bit out of hand" The ambassador pinched their brow ridge. "Let me guess. uncontrolled explosive devices in an enclosed space led to..."

"Minor structural damage and several singed circuits, yes," grated Magnus. 

A humourless smirk curled Megatron's dermas. "Appropriate punishment is in order, I believe." His tone left no doubt over the two delinquents. They were all just happy the third member of their party hadn't been present, less they all had to deal with Ratchet's wrath. 

Rodimus gulped. Daniel sank lower in his seat. The Ambassador groans in annoyance. "Daniel get back to the crew room. Your on restroom cleaning duties for the next Orn. And don't think complaining to David and Kyle is going to save you" they state. Daniel scurried from his seat, hands raised placatingly. "Yessir, right away sir! No complaining, got it." He backed towards the door, casting Rodimus an apologetic grimace. 

Rodimus merely flashed his signature cocky grin and finger-guns, to his friend. But Megatron's responding snarl and Magnus' deepening scowl boded ill for the speedster's fate. "Really, Rodimus, must you continue pursuing chaos and mayhem?" sighs their ambassador wearily. "One of these days your antics are going to get someone hurt, what were you thinking?"

"Are you questioning my leadership?" Rodimus shot back, before shrinking back into his seat as the other two mechs shoot him with a glare. Megatron loomed over the desk, a deep rumble echoes from his chassis as he does his best not to lose his temper at the prime. "Questioning implies there was leadership to begin with." He states it's not quite a sneer but his disappointment shows. 

Magnus nodded stiff agreement. "Reckless endangerment of crew and ship cannot be tolerated. You may be Co-captain of this vessel but the Ambassador and myself are responsible for the safety and security of all on board your vessel." Rodimus paled, grin faltering at the prospect of real punishment, Their optics held no mercy as sentencing began in earnest. Another incident to log in Rodimus' ever-growing file.

"Look Rodimus I don't really care what you do in your spare time but don't drag my crew into it. I'm responsible for each and every one of the humans on this ship. Do you realise how easily something could have gone wrong?" The Ambassador states while looking at the captain. Megatron growled irritably. "Spare us your coddling, Ambassador. Rodimus' 'antics' endanger us all. He's reckless, refuses to do his documentation, finds every opportunity to disappear from proper duties, Ultra Magnus and myself are the ones running the ship due to his inability to stick to a task."

Ultra Magnus nodded solemn agreement. "Recklessness cannot continue unpunished. I suggest confinement to quarters for the foreseeable future, with duties suspended."

But Rodimus' smile falls. "What! You can't just ground me. I'm not a fragging Sparkling! I said I was sorry, what more do you want?" He shouts out optics frantically looking between the three. Megatron's engine snarled. "Respect. Responsibility. Traits you've yet to demonstrate, Captain." He spat the title like an insult. 

"Enough!" The Liaison calls out loudly. "Rodimus you have been acting up recently, rather badly, why? It seems every time one of us turns our back you are sneaking off, tonight was my night off. I was having drinks with my crew and got called here because of this" they accuse, trying to find out what had Rodimus acting up. This wasn't  the first time either he had both Daniel and Traxies looped into his antics but so far been the most dangerous.

Rodimus shrank back slightly under the barrage, facade cracking. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Look, I know things have been... dicey lately. And yeah, maybe I've been pushing boundaries a bit more than usual? But I'm trying to enjoy myself, make others enjoy travelling with me. It's boring! I feel like I'm going nuts cooped up at a desk all cycle."

"So endangering lives is acceptable?" Megatron crossed his arms severely. 

“Have you any idea the amount of violations you have committed,  have you even read the list to your name?” Ultra Magnus grumbles, Rodimus looks at the table like a scolded child before the human sighs as they move closer. " Rodimus, can you actually read?" They ask, it was a slight hunch they had that he was acting up because of something with their reports and records. But he was showing signs similar to dyslexia and adhd. 

Rodimus stiffened. "What kind of insult is that?! Of course I can read - I'm the Prim- friggin' Captain, aren't I?!"

Megatron snorted slightly amused. "A fact that continues to astound and dismay in equal measure."

But the human ambassador remained focused on Rodimus. "Then perhaps the issue lies not in your duties, but how you process them. Reading reports and records can be tedious for some."

They pulled up a datapad, flipping through screens. "Let's test your comprehension. Can you summarise the contents of this supply requisition?"

Rodimus grimaces at the screen, he hates it. "Aw c'mon, do I have to? That stuff's so boring" 

Magnus rumbled a subtle warning but their ambassador kept Rodimus pinned with a stare. With a huff and whine from his engine, Rodimus gave in and began squinting at the pad. Silence fell as they watched him struggle to parse the words, tangling meanings and figures alike. 

"OK, so paperwork is hard for you, why haven't you brought this up to one of us?" They inquire this time not as annoyed. The move to sit down on the table near him. Rodimus shifted uncomfortable under the others' piercing stares. His plating flared in embarrassment as never before. "I didn't... it's not like..." He vented harshly, the truth forcing its way free at last. "Reading's always been hard, okay? The words jumble and my processors ache if I have to focus too long." 

He refused to meet their optics, ashamed to show such perceived weakness. "Why did you not come to us for aid?" Megatron asked, the anger in his voice had faded. "There is no shame in acknowledging limitations, Rodimus, but causing chaos over something that can simply be solved with changing who does the documentation."  

Rodimus' intake worked furiously. "Because... because I'm the Prime, the Captain! I'm supposed to have it all together, be the fearless leader. How can they follow me if they think I'm.. Everyone except me too know everything! I'm not Optimus. Im out here to not have to be in his shadow! ” he finally lets out before he sulks into his arms. 

The others go quiet as they watch the dishevelled speedster. 

"I'm willing to help you with taking inventory and trade bargains, but no more dragging Daniel or Traxies into your silly endeavours, understand?, are one of you able to help him with reports to cybertron and earth over different routes for trades and out travel logs" They inquire firstly to Rodimus and then to the other two mechs. 

He straightened with surprise. "You...you'd help me? Really?" His optics darted between the human and his Co-captain and enforcer. 

Magnus nodded. "Orders and logs require diligent documentation. Traversing trade routes necessitates mathematical prowess. I am equipped to handle them." 

Megatron gave the barest nod. "And I am...familiar with navigating bureaucracy. Of log reports and records" 

The meeting concludes after a while  the human stands there waiting for a moment. "Rodimus walk with me" they called out to the speedster waiting for him to begin walking beside them. Rodimus glanced up from shuffling pedes. "I...yeah. Yeah, okay." He nodded, falling into stride beside the human. His fields pulsed anxiety and gratitude in equal measure. 

Silence fell as they walked the halls, Rodimus casting furtive glances at them as they flick through the data padin hand. "You're not the first person I've worked with who has trouble reading or even understanding stuff" they remark as they begin heading to Swerve's. It takes Rodimus a little off guard that they were going to the bar. "Plus you owe me drinks after pulling me away from my night off" the human tease.

Rodimus perked up in surprise as they angled their path towards Swerve's bar. His cooling fans kicked on at the human's casual revelation and teasing quip. "Wait, seriously? There are others who struggle like me?" He asked slightly shocked. They hand the pad to Rodimus. “have a look at the screen and tell me if having a dark mood helps with being able to read stuff.” They tell him. He accepts the tablet as they walk into the bar. Optics flick to them watching like hawks as they find seats. 

“ it's easier to read some stuff still going to give My processors a short circuit tho” he grumbles slightly. They nod in understanding. “ we will working something out but that's for tomorrow” they hum as they both pull up to a table. Rodimus lifts them up to the bench where they fall into one of the human sided seats on the table. 

 "Look, about earlier - I really am sorry I dragged your crew into that mess. You deserve a break." Optics in the bar shoot to Rodimus and the Ambassador. All of them watched with vented breath after the earlier drinking session with the human's. Rodimus' plating twitched self-consciously under the weight of so many curious stares from within. But beside him, the human ambassador didn't seem fazed by the stares. 

Rodimus leaned in close. "Seems everyone's watching us. Primus, you'd think we spawned a sparkling the way they're gossiping!" He grumbles looking into the drink swerve slides in front of him before the mini bot disappears. The ambassador chuckled. "Don't mind them. Think everyone's letting the high grade and energex go to their head" the Ambassador states. "Plus my crew were here earlier having drinks and got a little out of hand, Nadia was talking about 'taking a mech for a ride' " they chuckled into their own drink.

Rodimus sputtered on his energon, cooling fans kicking into high gear at the risqué implications. His plating rippled in scandalised delight.  "Taking a mech for a ride, huh?!” His fans kicking on had made a few other mechs snicker from other tables. Across the bar, curious optics remained glued to their table, The speedster leaned on an elbow, optics filled with wonder.

"So which poor mech caught the little lady's optic?. " it was barely above a whisper. His engine rumbled warmly. “she had her eyes set on Swerve, I honestly think she was just trying to get free drinks" they call back in amusement.  But it makes Rodimus' processor go wild at the thought. The humans were just as interested in bedding a bot and the rest of the crew was with the humans. 

"Clever little thing, your Nadia! Far be it from me to judge creativity in scamming a drink or two." He mumbles, feeling the energex hitting him hard. He had suspected that Swerve must have given him a triple boost. 

So many of the other bots in the bar are still watching him and listening in on the conversation, eager to see if the rumours Kyle had spread earlier were true. "Oh Nadia is a very clever schemer. I'd say watch out for her and Millian they're thick as thieves kinda like you Daniel and Traxies. Just as much trouble makers" they chuckle as they finish their drink.

He cycled a gusty vent and pushed his empty cube away, coming to a reluctant conclusion. "As much as I'd love nothing more than to keep yakking all night, you should probably call it and get some recharge. You looked tired. I'm going to have one more round before I head to berth. Magnus is gonna have me on inventory or worse with him tomorrow," Rodimus shuddered theatrically at the thought.

 "But we should definitely do this again real soon. This was nice, and um thank you. For you know helping me" it's a rather shy reply which has them giving him a smile. "Enjoy your night captain, I'm most likely heading back to my room soon. Getting late and I plan on actually sleeping in my bed and not a desk tonight" they state while standing up. Joints popping slightly.

Once Rodimus had helped them to the ground they flahs him another smile “Good night Rodimus I'll see you tomorrow " they state as they make their way towards the door of the bar. He's sat there for a moment his spark fluttering as he watches them. before he gets a ping from swerve and other bots asking the gossip. He goes to get up and leave the bar before be can get bombarded with questions only to get cornered by Swerve. 

"A-hem! And just where do you think you're off to in such a hurry, Captain?" Swerve's cheery voice broke Rodimus from his musings as the gathered bots closed in, optics alight with curiosity and engex-loosened daring. A blush swiftly rose in Rodimus' plating, though he straightened with false bravado. "Just turning in for the night, mechs, as should you all” 

Catcalls and laughs erupted from the crowd. "Aw, no need to play coy, Roddy!" laughed Tailgate. "We all saw you chumming it up with the Ambassador - spill the goods!"

Rodimus cycled a sigh. They'd get it out of him one way or another. Best tell it himself and save some shred of dignity intact. "Alright alright, you buzzards! I'll tell you what really went down..." 

________

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@desertrosesmetaldune

@stellasfallow

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa

@shinseiokami

@tea-loving-frog

@aquaioart

@daniel-meyer-03

@pupap123

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Please please please clingy Rodimus with a human so. Like where Rodimus likes to kiss their so. (idk how to ask this is my first time please please don't get mad) thanku

I hope this is to your liking. Honestly really enjoyed writing this out real quick.

It was like having a lost puppy follow you. A giant, metal, bright red and orange puppy. There was some humor and some use in having the captain follow you around the Lost Light. It was also quite nice when you needed some help reaching something and his optics would flash, happy to pick you up or show off however needed. Hovering over your shoulder and asking what you were working on. Rodimus was happy to just be in the same room as you, as long as no one else was in. He always made sure to be close by if there were others. Servos twitching as he fought the urge to pick you up and sit you on his shoulder.

Rodimus just liked being around you. Always. He would respect a demand for some space of course, especially if Magnus found him and (rightfully) nagged him back to work. Always with a longing glance over his shoulder.

Rodimus always lights up when he enters his habsuite to see you there first. Especially if you're in pajamas, the soft ones he loves so much. It will start casual. He'll come sit or lie on the modified berth beside you. chatting about the day, inevitably scooting you closer and closer. It's so easy. You're so small and all he has to do it gently cup his servo around you and pull you closer. Closer. No, sitting on his thigh while he runs a digit up and down your back is not close enough.

Rodimus needs you in his servos and held close to him. Against his chest, near his spark chamber. Maybe on his shoulder with a servo always on you to keep you steady. Or his personal favorite. Smooshed against his helm. Especially when watching movies. The reason? So he can kiss you of course!

Rodimus has been practicing. On you, so he knows what you like. But moments like this he liked the best. Holding you in both his servos, smiling down at you as you tell him you have to go to bed early. You spend too much time with Magnus, he thinks. But he likes it. He likes the way you mellow out around him. The way you huff at the first few kisses to the top of your head. The way you smile as he kisses your cheeks.

Breathless, is how he would describe you after a proper kiss. The giant has to be so careful. Cannot press to hard or too long. But sometimes he just gets lost in it. His favorite kiss however, is tummy kisses. that part of you that is easier to kiss without worry of suffocating you. Against skin, or your soft pajamas. It keeps you close to him. Lets him feel your heart beat. It's like a spark hum, he thinks one night as he brushes his derma against your stomach. Your hands running along the crest of his helm. Sleepy eyes watching him.

Just a few more kisses, he promises. A few more kisses and you can go to sleep.

[themyriadpoet]

Hey, guys! I gift another fic for @pompadourrguy, featuring TFO Starscream and cybertronian!reader who are both tired as HELL.

Recharge

Warnings: None

Word Count: 500 +

Long into the hours of twilight, you studied near your desk, alone and focused on the task at hand. Stopping Sentinel. Plot after plot, you worked, trying your utmost best to not only end the scourge of a false Prime, but to please the spark of the one you held the most dear. The High Guard toiled tirelessly, but you aimed to surpass even your greatest limits. Competence was key, and procrastination and insubordination couldn’t be tolerated.

Still, you possessed quite a few doubts, namely one that involved your sparkmate. Starscream. Lately, the amount of recharge that he was receiving was truly concerning. It was too little, far too little for your liking. 

But how could you convince him to rest?

Just as you felt yourself nodding off, you heard the sound of a vocalizer clearing. Surprised, you lifted your helm to lock optics with Starscream. For a moment, he lingered near the doorway before entering your shared quarters with a casual sway of his frame. 

“Oh! Sir!” You quickly stood. “I didn’t see you there.”

Starscream smirked, finding amusement in your words.

“Interesting. I was standing here for some time.”

A bit ashamed, you blushed and played with your digits.

“Oh…”

He neared your desk, observing the various blueprints and schematics. As he did so, you paid close attention to his movements and his expressions. He was slow, much slower than usual, only furthering your belief that he was not receiving the proper recharge.

Before he could even speak, you stepped forward.

“Uh, Starscream, can we…talk for a moment?”

The mech cocked his helm to the side.

“I suppose we can.” He sat on his reclined berth. “Does something bother you?”

After finding a chair to sit across from him, you allowed a sigh to leave your dermas. Instead of thinking of what to say, you decided to just be honest and speak from the spark. 

“I mean, I’m in no position to question your work ethic, however, I…I worry that you haven’t been receiving adequate recharge.” 

Starscream didn’t respond right away. His crimson optics glistened as he thought to himself, his wings twitching lightly. He gazed at you, his expression firm but softer than ever before, seemingly absorbing your appearance. 

“Well, in that case, I could say the same for you.”

You blinked.

“Really?”

Starscream’s stare hardened only slightly.

“Of course. Everyone can notice how tense you are.” He frowned, leaning backwards a bit to think some more. “As integral as the mission is to our cause, I…cannot ignore the needs of my conjux.”

Your spark fluttered at his words, a shy smile gracing your faceplate. It was rare of him to display such softness to anyone, but you supposed that you were the exception, being his beloved and all. 

Starscream patted the space next to him.

“Come. Sit with me. I’ve already notified Soundwave and Shockwave. We can recharge for a short while.”

Slowly but eagerly, you did as he told you, nestling against his frame on the berth. With your servos and legs intertwined as best as they could be, Starscream turned his helm towards you with a faint grin.

“Comfortable?”

“Very.”

As the two of you fell back into a slumbering position, you drifted off into recharge without even noticing it. 

With his frame against yours, Starscream began to speak.

“My dear, I-”

But you were already fast asleep. 

With no one watching him, Starscream smiled, pressing his helm against your faceplate.

Divider Credit: @/diviniyae

[crying-fantasies]

First time

Masterlist

Featuring G1 Springer, smut/fluff, CW: virginity take, penetrative sex, fingering (attempted), handjob, experienced partner (not really), sassy friend (in this house we stand a sassy Arcee).

He shouldn't even think about it.

Really shouldn't, couldn't, but here he is, trying as hard as possible to not blow a gasket by your moans, your little cries of ecstasy, pain long gone.

You told him that after everything was said and done, you would never have eyes for your kind but he would like to say the same thing back at you if only his box wasn't already a glitching mess, pedes almost kicking fruitlessly to give more strength to his rocking pace.

He shouldn't have even thought of you in that way, but it was so intoxicating, making him remember the time when he couldn't look at you directly before acting like nothing happened.

If anyone knew, the embarrassment could never leave him, everyone he knew would nudge him, make fun of him, vowing to never let him live it down.

As he feared, they didn't leave him alone once the longing peeks at you were too many to don't notice, his destiny was sealed when, after seeing you for a second, he returned his sight to his team, they all had a slag-eating grin on their faceplates.

It was over before he could escape them, Roadbuster was the first to capture him and let the others have fun at his expense.

“Springer is finally living a little”

“Told you he wasn't into mechs or femmes”

“At least it is a living thing”

None of them showed real interest in the fact you were organic or the fact you were looking at them like some circus show because you've seen The Wreckers being highly valuable soldiers, consider them in high esteem, Springer did everything in his power to make sure of it, but now they were playing like human children while goading one of their youngest, pointing at you without an ounce of real care to the mortification Springer was going into when you connected the dots just then and there.

Talk about messed up.

The only way to enlighten his sour mood that day was when you mentioned something about a gasoline station near the base, where a soda bar was also running a business, Springer had to close his intake, opened by the surprise, and take his opportunity before Hot Rod tried to take it away from him.

Organics, he got to learn, loved too fast, something that could make any mech uncomfortable to some degree, it made him feel uneasy too, at first, it was to be expected, sure, too fast for him was too slow for you, it took him a very hot cycle to notice you wanted to put your little mouth over his derma, telling him that it has already been a year and all you two did was hold hands, talk, but no “kiz”, whatever that was, you said it was fine by you, but you still wanted to share something called “kiz” with him; humans loved too fast, Springer realized once again when he got near your level by almost sprawling himself on the floor of his habsuit, letting your hands drag over his helm and audio receptors to let you go at it, once you got near enough, once you did what you wanted to him, he found hard to stop his revving engines or his wandering servos.

Humans love too fast, but he soon realized that just as you loved too fast you also loved too intensely.

Springer realized, too late to his horror, that it wasn't that you loved too fast, it was that you didn't have the same time as him, and he noticed it once he witnessed your cells perish to give place to new ones, you looked different, your eyes still held that pretty shine in them that seemed to reflect what he felt for you right back at him.

It got him, and an endless wave of desperation started to burn inside his spark.

Springer was no organic specialist and he didn't have to be the brightest mind, it was draining to some degree, to ask him to rescue a bot from a whole base of deceptions and he'd do so without a leak, but trying to choose the correct words for trying to cover more space, regain time wasted on his own mistakes, he wanted to experience all he could, was it something wrong? or he should just live in the moment and go at your pace?

Is there- is there a possibility of never having that lost time back?

The idea shouldn't even pass over his processor but here he is, hearing your ragged breathing, looking straight into those eyes that reflect him like any other body of water, he can see the reflection of his optics in your eyes, how bright they are, how candid his spark sings and exudes energy when your hands guide his digits under the fabric of your clothes, the sound you made make him groan in your mouth.

Still, not even before the idea of touching under your fabric coverings was valid, and it keeps dragging on him like a sentence soon to be punished.

Frag, Kup taught him better than this, Springer could almost hear him: “Ya goin’ straight to the last race? Think about the poor, young lad and behave like a gentlemech! What's that helm of yours good for if you're only thinkin’ with your array?!”

But kissing, not “kiz”, is good, it feels great, and he can feel his valve coil at the way your lips move over his upper derma, your little tongue poking here and there, your hair flies around with the hot air coming from his chassis inner fans and it has you laughing in bliss, Springer tries to kiss you again, derma touching just right and he can feel your blood flowing under the skin of your neck, body almost going limp if not for his servo holding you against his affection, something seems to ignite on your mind, “okay, that's it”.

Springer needs a moment to lick the saltiness away, shuddering while doing so, opening his optics to a decent level once your words finally settle in and he looks back at you, “What’s what?”

He has very little time to be confused when he notices the lack of your upper covers.

Feels like his fuel pump falls and then goes up to his intake before he has words to say, “Woah! Woah!” his digits stop you from getting rid of your lower ones, “What is- what are you doing?”

Did he say the wrong thing? You look hurt, “oh, oh right, maybe you guys don't- I get it, sorry if I got strange” You started to go on and on, and took him a moment to put a digit over your little, delightful mouth, “Springer?”

“Aw love, it's not that, not at all”

Was it atypical to teach you about a mech’s array? Of course, it was, especially still feeling the gush of fluid on his valve and the strain over his spike, good thing you were too engrossed in his explanation to hear it painfully grind under his modesty panel, your eyes showed your emotions bare, your reactions showing sincerity.

Didn't take much to figure out that you already knew a little bit of what he was trying to explain, and that gave way to who had the bearings to tell you about it without fearing Ultra Magnus and a very possible retake on the Autobot code.

“Oh, so that's what the guys meant about breaking seals”

“What?”

“Well, I guess you too have a slang similar to “popping the cherry” or-”

“No, no, who told you about that?”, your eyes go to the corner of the room, “Roadbuster? Sandstorm?Whirl?” your head perked up, “it was Whirl, ain't it? Your eyes got back to him, ugh, when he gets out of here, he swears.

“Just to let you know”, your hand is holding his digits again, placing them over your beat in heart, “I'm fully aware of what is to come, and I do want you to break my seal”, you show yourself, confident and proud, enough to make him weak, “and I know you have a mass displacement mode”.

Springer wanted to scream, “Did Whirl tell you that too? That fragger” but chose to go for another thing, “Not that I don't want to but-” It’s not a great deal for his race, but it sure is for yours, he has seen the TV and every time it has been mentioned all bets are placed on it being lost or preserved, “are you sure, like, totally?”

You laughed again, very low, to preserve his dignity, “Who are you, and what you did do to my confident soldier?”

Your laugh gives him all confidence back, “I'm the same bot as always, Sweetspark, just wanted to be certain”.

It was slow, trying to figure out where things went once he was at a decent size, Springer noticed your interest in the transformation seams of his array once he let you go wild around it, “Have you done it before?” your fingers were warping around the base of his spike, bumping his anterior node, gaining a static laced “not in a while” with confidence, you hummed, pumping your hand, enough to have transfluid running down, “okay” he tried to catch his bearings for a moment, Primus, you were soft, there was nothing comparable, the base of your hand touched the red button and his valve covering gave up, your eyes went to see, your finger tried to enter but he stopped you, “Woah, hold it, Hot stuff, not sure if my valve won't break your little fingers”

“Oh, but you can put yours in mine, really fair”

Springer felt giddy, pushing his forehelm against your little head, sure grinning like he got a few lose circuits, “If anything, I think yours will break my sanity first”

He was trying to joke, turns out, it was plain reality.

Does it still count as much when there is only such a short time to bask in the passion of your life, in the warmth of your embrace as he stills and feels your hands, your nails, trying to get him as close as possible, it’s intimate, it's suffocating, but in a good way, your valve moves, not like the calipers, it's the muscles, moving like waves, compressing him, pushing all his sensor nods precisely, dragging him in for all his worth till his base pushes to the limit, you have no gestational chamber (or you do?) but something is pushing just right at the tip, makes his optics power out and on repeatedly, you fare no better, there is no longer pain but hunger, hips shifting to create more friction, chanting his designation like a prayer.

Primus, you know how to make a mech feel important, you sure did, as your legs pressed him with all your force, metal digging into your flesh, a sight to behold, engraved to his very core memory.

Later on, when he got up to get you some water, he found Arcee on the way to fetch it, she smiled and he returned the gesture, she almost sang, “Lucky you”, Springer stopped at the second, looking back at her, who had a knowing smile, “told you the mass displacement mode was going to be useful in more than one way, just a bit of information and you both were ready to go, am I right?”

She chuckled like it was nothing, walking away gracefully, leaving him speechless in the hallway.

.

Ah, Arcee being the best femme friend of Springer since the G1 days, always helping him out (she was sick of the two dancing around each other and only holding hands for a whole year).

@tf-kinktober2024

[enigmatist17]

I have a version of this that is, of course, depressing, and decided to have another that's happier after watching some rescue bots last night with some friends :)

---

Chase was quite excited to be back in Griffon Rock, for all the fun he had had with Chief Burns on the mainland. The Chief had been a host at a safety and law enforcement conference, and with some well-placed cameras, Chase was able to attend most of the lectures while parked either outside or on display. He couldn't wait to review his carefully logged notes and other information Charlie had been kind enough to grab for him, and maybe even put on one of his favorite detective movies for the perfect background noise. He was quite sore after remaining in his alt mode for nearly a week and a half straight, and Charlie was just as exhausted, not even keeping up the pretense that he was awake as Chase slowly made his way to the firehouse with his partner fast asleep.

"Chase to Kade. The Chief and I will be arriving soon, but he's fallen asleep. May I request your assistance in helping him into your home?"

"Sure thing bud! See ya soon!" The comm cut out, and Chase wondered why the usually ornery Burns was so cheerful, but figured he would find out eventually through Heatwave. Kade and Dani were waiting for the patrol car when he arrived a few minutes later, Chase popping open his driver's side door while turning on his interior light, the older man grumbling something at the intrusion of his nap.

"Chief Burns, we have arrived home. You may find your berth far more suitable than my interior seating." To most, Chase sounded like his semi-monotone self, but Charlie could hear the slight fondness in Chase's voice as he patted the dashboard before getting out with a yawn.

"Thanks, partner, I'd have slept at the docks if it wasn't for you." Dani headed over to her father as Kade cleared out his bags from Chase's trunk, both clearly pleased at having their father home. "You get your rest, too."

"Copy that." Chase transformed as Dani helped Charlie up and into the upper part of the home, raising an optic ridge at the grin on Kade's face when he paused at the top of the stairs. "Yes?"

"Just a heads up, you've got some visitors downstairs. Night!" With that, he scurried up and into the house, leaving Chase further confused as he headed for the elevator controls.

How strange, no one had alerted Chase that Optimus or any of the others were coming for a visit.

He internally shrugged as he descended into the bunker, a soft smile gracing his derma at the sound of Blades bickering over the remote with what had to be Heatwave, the familiarity already settling his weary spark. The sight to greet his optics when he turned the corner, however, had Chase freeze in place, his processor trying to understand what it was he was seeing, exactly.

"Chase, you're home!" Blades jumping up off the couch wasn't unusual, the helicopter bouncing in place with sheer excitement. "We weren't expecting you until the morning!"

"Blades, give him some space buddy." Boulder had been in his usual painting corner when Chase arrived, again not an unusual sight, though looking very happy for the enforcer as he tugged Blades away from the center of the room. "Welcome home Chase, I would have given you a heads up, but..."

"We kinda gave 'em all a surprise." A bot that had been perched on the couch next to Blades stood with a lax salute, the smile on their face plate forced as much as it was genuine, ocean blue optics scanning Chase as they moved closer. "You look good, little brother."

"I - I don't...Bluestreak?" His processor recoiled at the name as he reached out with one hand, not a single memory file explaining what he was supposed to do at this very moment. By Primus, as always, Bluestreak was somehow still able to read his very thoughts, placing their servos together palm to palm with a gentle brush of his EMF field.

"Cycle in, cycle out, we don't need a tac net crash." Bluestreak hummed, remaining perfectly still when he felt the first hesitant tug on his spark, one that he thought would remain cold and cut off for the rest of his life. He responded with a feeling of affection and love, the two other parts of his spark responding at the sudden flood of emotion as Chase stared at his brother, following his instructions as Boulder moved closer with a brush of his own field to calm the other.

"Where...Where is Heatwave?" Chase's voice is laced with static when he finally responds, looking between Boulder and Bluestreak as he lowers his servo.

"He's out with Smokescreen and Prowl, they wanted to see the island for themselves. Well, that an' Prowl didn't want to wait for your assessments, impatient aft." It was a good thing Boulder had moved closer, Chase felt like the world had tilted at the two other names he never expected to hear again, the green servo on his shoulder keeping him upright.

"Alright, time to get you seated before we're picking you up off the floor. Bluestreak, go get some energon from the comm room I showed you, Boulder could you go and get Cody? I know he's watching us, and I think Chase could use the company." Blades shooed the Praxian away with a click, gently grasping Chase's arm and guiding him to the couch. "How's the processor?"

"I do not know." Blades didn't look happy with the answer, but smiled as he fished out his scanner from one of his subspace pockets, doing a once over just to ease his own processor. Bluestreak was pressing a small container of energon into his servos just as Boulders returned with Cody, the small human placed on Chase's shoulder by the construction bot.

"Hi Chase." Cody was a bit tired with how late it was, but neither he nor his siblings were able to sleep tonight, having been watching the bunker cameras from the living room. His father had been filled in and had gone to call Heatwave when Boulder came for him, and despite the curious look from Bluestreak, Cody was more than happy to sit with his friend. "How was the ship ride from the mainland?"

"It was a pleasant journey." Chase sipped the fresh energon as Cody dangled his legs over the edge of Chase's shoulder, his free servo patting them with his usual care. "How was your science demonstration?"

"The science fair? It was fun! I got third place, but I'll have to wait for a new award ribbon, someone's experiment exploded and destroyed the judging table." Cody chuckled at the memory, Chase eyeing him with slight concern. "Everyone was okay, and no structural damage either! Kinda wish it did cause some, I still had P.E the next day."

"And yet you survived." Cody smiled at the ghost of a smile that crossed the bots face, looking toward the tunnel that the Burns' used when the sound of three vehicles approaching filled the air. Heatwave was the first one through the opening, the rescue bot leader transforming with his usual grace as the two bots behind him entered moments later, transforming as Chase set his unfinished energon aside.

"Good to see you, Chase." Heatwave only nodded at his second before taking Cody from his shoulder and moving him to the table, stepping back as the enforcer got up and onto his pedes. "Rescue Bots, time to go topside." No one spoke as the small team headed to the elevator, the room silent for a moment before one of the other bots couldn't contain their excitement any longer.

"CHASE!" The rescue bot grunted when the slightly shorter of the two bots in front of him launched forward with a happy cry, hugging Chase as tight as they could. "You're alive! Oh thank Primus you're alive!"

"Smokescreen..." Chase finally understood what humans meant by feeling dizzy from a varying range of emotions, cycling air through his vents in an attempt to cool his processor. It's the steadying servo on his shoulder that sends Chase to his knees, a series of pained clicks and chirps escaping his vocalizer as the eldest bot in the room knelt down, taking Chase's trembling servos into his own. Cody watched the older bot click at Chase in a tone that reminded him of Dad trying to calm him or his siblings whenever they got hurt, the EMF field that practically filled the room radiating so much love that Cody could feel it, limited as it was to a human. It seemed to help his friend, the weird rattling that Cody had only heard when Chase's tac net unit (something that none of the bots ever explained, and he could understand that) was overwhelmed fading away as he listened to Prowl, and despite the heartwarming scene, a question burst from his lips before Cody could stop himself.

"Are you Chase's dad?" Four sets of optics flicker over to the tiny human on the table, and he only ducks his head with an embarrassed smile. "Um, sorry."

"It is alright, you are merely curious." Bluestreak moved to take Prowl's place at the flick of the older bots' doorwing, the black and white Hellcat crossing the room and kneeling down to Cody's level. "I am not, although I had to take on the task of his and Smokescreen's upbringing when our sire...left."

"Oh, that must have been a lot of work!" Cody missed the look shared between Prowl and Bluestreak, Smokescreen visibly wincing as Chase just stared at the floor. "Were you all Rescue Bots before your um, War?"

"No, I was an Enforcer, effectively a police officer of our city Praxus." Cody straightened a little as he listened, noting how Chase finally relaxed when Smokescreen whispered something in their lyrical Cybertronian speech with a smile. "Bluestreak was something akin to a gardener, but I do not have the proper reference to fully explain his occupation."

"A gardener?" The tiny human looked over at Bluestreak, who couldn't help the soft chirp that escaped his vocalizer at how cute he was.

"More a mix of a gardener, singer, and a nurse. Praxus was home to special floating crystals, which were carefully harvested to help in the medical field, and could only be tended to by very specific bots. I happened to be one of those bots." His tank churned at the memory of seeing those beautiful crystals shattering in the bombing of Praxus, but Chase didn't need to feel that across their bond, so he shoved the files deep into his processor. "It was calming work."

"That sounds really cool." Cody smiled, looking over when Chase nudged his brothers, the three getting up off the floor in a tangle of limbs, not wanting to be separated longer than necessary. "You feeling better?"

"As much as I can for the moment, but your concern is appreciated Cody, thank you." Chase dipped his helm at the youngest Burns before regrettably extracting himself from the tight holds on him. "You are up well past your recharge cycle, you should go and rest."

"You sure?" Prowl moved to the side as his second to youngest brother walked over, the human jumping onto his offered palm with no resistance.

"I will be fine, I promise." The smile that crossed Chase's face did much to ease Cody's worry, his field draping around the young human as he carried him to the elevator. "I will see you after school tomorrow."

"Okay, goodnight Chase." Cody hugged one of his digits before hopping off onto the platform, waving behind the Rescue Bot. "You too, Smokescreen, Bluestreak, and Prowl!"

"Night lil' human!" Bluestreak waved, amused at the slight tilt of Prowl's helm as he watched the human be carried up and out of sight by the platform. "He's so cute."

"Cody Burns is an extraordinary human, especially for one of his age." The rescuer turned to face his family, still partially wondering if this was all some sort of sick mirage summoned by his processor. "How did you find me?"

"Optimus Prime cannot hide a secret from me." Prowl replied in amusement, holding out a servo that Chase took with a soft rumble of his engine. "I only arrived with a small group of fellow Autobots four jours ago, so many of us are still adjusting to this...strange planet."

"Earth is indeed strange, but I have come to enjoy it since our arrival here." Chase squeezed Prowl's servo as the four went to sit down on the couch, Chase settled right in the middle of the group. "It is not home, but there are places similar enough."

"Perhaps you can teach us all you have come to learn, it is our home as much as Cybertron was." Chase clicked at the hint of grief that danced within Prowl's words, wishing he had his doorwings to flick them in comfort, so he settled for pushing reassurance through their revitalized bond. "We have much to catch you up on."

"Are we goin' to start with the big one?" Bluestreak hummed from his spot to Chase's left, a grin on his face plate as Smokescreen had to bite back bursting out the answer as Prowl shot him an irritated look.

"Speak of what?" Chase watched his brothers with a soft vent, optics dim as Smokescreen gently rubbed one of his audial fins.

"That can wait, this is not-"

"Big brother met his Conjunx!" Smokescreen blurted out, unable to contain his excitement, as well as knowing Prowl was far too adept at skirting conversations he wanted to avoid.

"Smokescreen." The eldest sighed, doorwings drooping slightly as he shot his youngest brother a look. "There are far more important topics to discuss before any concerning myself, you did not need to drag that to the forefront."

"Oh hush, he's only excited." The second eldest reached over to flick at the lower part of Prowl's closest doorwing, unphased by the faint growl directed his way. "Besides, I know he followed us here, no use pushing off the inevitable."

"Y'know Blue, ruinin' the surprise is no fun." A voice said from behind the four bots, Chase the only one turning to see an Autobot emerge from the shadows of the entrance to the tunnels that ran all throughout the island, heading toward them as Prowl stood. "An' of course I did."

"Plenty fun for me." The visored mech chuckled as he joined Prowl, standing a helm shorter as he looked down at Chase with a friendly wave.

"Chase, I introduce my Conjunx Endure, Jazz of Polyhex." Chase got to his pedes as his brother bowed slightly, mirroring the gesture in return before addressing the new bot.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, and congratulations to you both." Jazz's grin only grew as Chase held out his servo, only to chirp in surprise when Jazz pulled him into a hug, his other arm around Prowl's waist.

"Aww, yer just like yer brother, a mini Prowler!" The older cooed, and Chase was glad they could not blush, cautiously extending his field when Jazz teeked at him, confused by the adoration this bot held for him, despite this being their first meeting. "I'm glad I got ta finally meet ya, Prowler talked about you all the time."

"H-He did?" Jazz laughed as he gave Chase a small squeeze, before loosening his grip to allow the other to walk away if he wanted. "How long have you both been Conjunx?"

"A long time my mech, but obviously after you...vanished." The word was heavy, but Chase merely tugged the couple toward the couch, letting Jazz's arm remain around him despite his usual aversion to touch by someone unknown. It was a bit of a cramped seating arrangement until Smokescreen took the floor, but no one complained as Chase took in the three familiar figures, and one he knew was soon to become family within his coding before long. "So, yer a Rescue Bot huh? I knew some good mech who were some as well."

"I am, it is a title I have always held proudly." Chase let a faint smile grace his face plate, and he was sure his fellow first responders could probably feel the positive EMF fields from outside. "I appear to be the only one to hold my original...occupation."

"Mhm, no shame in that." Jazz watched the way Prowl's doorwings twitched, and sent a gentle wave of affection through their bond. "Why don't ya tell us what you've been up to? We're not goin' anywhere anytime soon."

"Where shall I begin?" Chase straightened a little as Smokescreen perked up, the youngest grinning.

"Start from the beginning?"

"Our journey to Earth began when an Energon Eater attacked our vessel..."

Heatwave was the one to check in on the Praxian sibling's breems later, spark warming at the sight that greets him when he turns the corner. Chase was in a light recharge, his fellow team member resting against the Enforcer he'd met earlier, the older bot protectively holding him while the other one (Bluestreak?) guarded Chase's other side. The youngest bot was dozing off against Chase's legs, doorwings fluttering in contentment as he most likely took in the positive feelings filtering through their reunited bond. The last bot that Heatwave hadn't seen beforehand, but had been warned off during the island tour, was the only one to remain awake, helm tilting up to meet Heatwave's gaze.

"All good?" The visored mech grinned, one servo tracing a mindless path along one of the Enforcer's doorwing.

"All good, go an' rest, yer all safe with me." The mech spoke with a soft tone, but Heatwave could hear the weight of military rank behind every word, promising death to those who would dare break apart their reunited family.

"Goodnight then, we'll check on you in the morning." With that Heatwave left, his spark content that his teammate would be safe without his watchful optics.

Griffin Rock sleeps well that night.

[quill-firefly]

The Prime from Another Universe - Chapter 1 (SG TFOne AU)

And this is how I cope after those storyboards.

I am coping by making a new Shattered Glass AU series.

I never said it was a healthy coping mechanism lmao

This is different from "Did I Ever Really Know You?" and "Shattered Reflections" since this one is primarily inspired by the storyboard actually showing that D-16 had the dream of going on an off world expedition (which broke my heart). Actually, the entire storyboard broke my heart.

And while it's weird that I'm coping by writing Shattered Glass, it's my comfort continuity and I really really love Shattered Glass Megatron.

He just wanted to go on an off world expedition, damn it. I'm letting him fly skskskks

Also! Huzzah, finally POVs that aren't just Megatron or Optimus.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61988845/chapters/158518177

In his many cycles as Commander of the High Guard, Starscream has had to deal with many issues.

He had handled traitors and defectors.

He had handled wars.

He had handled the worst of the thirteen Primes.

He had kept those under his command alive on the surface for fifty cycles after their self-exile from Iacon.

He had - though with the help of the Autobots and the Prime - stopped the fighting between Cybertronians and the Quintessons.

Somehow, all of those pale in comparison to his current dilemma.

“Megatron… your visits are always welcome… but, please explain, who is that?”

Honestly, it was as though the universe itself had conspired to give him a sparkling on top of his duties as a Commander.

But Megatron was not a sparkling.

Though his choices at times really made Starscream consider whether the mech had hit his helm too many times during his period as a miner.

Starscream let out a vent as he approached the white-framed mech who struggled to hold an unconscious Prime. Megatron had slung one of the Prime’s arms over his shoulder pad, a servo gripping at the other mech’s waist to keep him from collapsing.

“Did you send him through a space bridge?”

Another thing about Megatron that reminded Starscream of a sparkling is the blatant disrespect he usually showed his elders.

Trying to keep his processor from overheating as his question was left unanswered, Starscream chose to give the younger mech his response. “No. The Prime must have used the space bridge himself, though why he wanted to go off world is beyond me.”

Megatron’s blue optics flickered towards the unconscious mech, “I found him on a desolate planet.”

“You couldn’t have left him there? He could return to Iacon on his own.” Starscream tried not to roll his optics, it was unbecoming - even if he at times wanted to show the same level of attitude that Megatron showed him.

“He looked injured and…” The white mech bit his bottom derma, gesturing with his free servo at the Prime. “His paint, it’s different. I don’t see the crack in the headlights either.”

“He got a repaint and new repairs, so what?” He knew where this conversation was going.

When he had agreed to let Megatron go off world after they had defeated the Quintessons, he thought the ache in his processor would finally go away. Somehow, the young mech has found new ways to give Starscream a sparkattack.

“I was hoping you could spare some medical supplies… just until he onlines again.” Megatron’s voice was low, vocoder straining with the weight of his words. “I would have taken him to Iacon but…”

“They’ll kill you on the spot, I know.” Starscream shook his helm, gesturing for Megatron to enter the Decepticon base. “We will give him medical assistance, then we need to remove him from the base for the safety of everyone.”

He shouldn’t be allowing this.

Megatron was lucky that Starscream had quite the softspark for him.

—

“Negative: Nope.”

“Soundwave, what do you mean ‘nope’?!”

“Repeat: this is not Optimus Prime. My cameras don’t lie, Starscream. Prime’s still in Iacon plotting his next evil move.” Soundwave shrugged his shoulder pads, relaxed despite the strange situation. He turned to look over at the unconscious mech currently restrained on the medical berth.

He had to say, the blue was definitely a better color on him than the purple.

Oh right, Starscream wanted him to focus.

“Declaration: Whoever Megs picked up, this is not the Prime we know.” He thought about it more. “Question: Hey, you think the Prime has a twin or something?”

“As if one Prime isn’t bad enough.” Starscream grumbled, placing a servo on the medical berth. His blue optics were closed tight, and from where Soundwave stood, he could almost hear the cogs turning in the other mech’s processor.

“Joke: Calm down, we wouldn’t want you to get checked over by the medics either.” Soundwave let out a small laugh, which earned him a glare from Starscream. “Suggestion: We wait until this mech’s awake and ask him who he is.”

“That’s precisely what we’ll do. We’ll need to keep him restrained until we can determine his threat level. I’ll assign a member to watch over him. Until then…” Underneath the visor, Soundwave’s optics followed as Starscream began to pace the length of the medical bay. “Where’s Megatron?”

“Answer: Outside. You told him he wasn’t allowed to come in until you gave the order.” Honestly, he found it adorable how protective Starscream was over the younger mech. Unbeknownst to his commander, Soundwave kept a lot of videos of the two’s interactions. If Starscream wasn’t going to save the memories, then Soundwave would. “Suggestion: Maybe stop being overprotective. Megs can handle himself.”

“I am not overprotective!” He could almost see the smoke rising from Starscream’s helm. “I just think he should stay away from Primes considering his past relationship with one!”

“Answer: Whatever you say, commander.” He moved past Starscream, reaching for the door button, the door panels sliding open immediately.

He dodged just in time to avoid the incoming collision.

As predicted, Megs toppled over to the ground.

Soundwave knew the younger mech would have been leaning against the door. He took great pride in knowing that Megs took an interest in surveillance.

Shame he chose to go off world, Soundwave would have liked to take on another apprentice.

“I volunteer! I brought him here so I can keep guard.”

“No.”

Soundwave turned his visor back to Starscream.

“Recall: My suggestion.”

“Soundwave, I am not listening to your suggestion.”

Megatron stood back up on his pedes, his blue optics wide with determination.

“Commander Starscream.”

That caught both their attention.

Soundwave was surprised. He never thought he’d hear Megatron address Starscream like that.

“He’s my responsibility, and I’m the one who asked the High Guard for this favor.” The young mech placed a servo on his chassis, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I will keep watch.”

—

When was the last time he had watched Pax in recharge?

That felt like another lifetime ago.

Megatron rested his helm on the medical berth.

This close, he could brush a servo against Pax’s face.

In recharge, he could almost pretend this was Pax.

Deep in his spark, he knew that mech was long gone.

But… this wasn’t Optimus Prime.

He had heard everything between Soundwave and Starscream.

The real Prime was in Iacon.

So who was this?

Megatron closed his optics, recalling the memory of when he’d first encountered the strange mech.

He didn’t know how far he had been from Cybertron.

He never really charted down the planets he had visited or the stars he had encountered.

Megatron had only wanted to spend his cycles off world, far from the conflict that plagued Cybertron.

Far from Optimus Prime.

Far from the mech he once loved.

It was selfish, but Pax would have encouraged that.

All he had ever wanted was to go off world.

So, after he had replicated transformation technology…

After he had gained his flying-alt… 

After the war with the Quintessons… he did.

He had seen many strange sights on his travels, finding remnants of the thirteen Primes’ war with other civilizations.

Occasionally, he would return to Cybertron to visit the High Guard and restock on energon, but most of the time he was off world.

On this particular journey, he had stumbled upon a desolate planet with a space bridge. A remnant of some forgotten war between Cybertronians and what lifeform had once existed there.

Megatron had taken a moment to rest, leaning his backplate against the space bridge. It was then that he realized that the metal was hot, as though it had been recently used. He had scoured the nearby area and found the unconscious mech.

He had been terrified at first, as the mech looked like Prime, just in blue.

Then he took in the extent of the damage on the other mech’s frame, feeling a spark of pity.

He used to love him.

He had known that Starscream wouldn’t turn him away if he asked for a favor.

And he wasn’t about to let Optimus die on a desolate planet by himself.

Megatron had carried the unconscious mech over to the space bridge, typing out the coordinates for the nearest one to the Decepticon base.

And now they were both here.

Was this a punishment from Primus? It wouldn’t surprise him if it was since the god seemed to really despise him and only him.

If Starscream hadn’t reacted to the other mech’s presence, Megatron would have thought he was being haunted by a ghost.

Though, why the ghost was blue instead of purple, he didn’t know.

Giving in to the urge, he brushed a servo against the other mech’s faceplate.

“Who are you?”

As soon as his digits brushed against the metal, the mech’s optics flew open.

Two pairs of blue optics stared at one another.

Then they both screamed.

—

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, bossbot. I saw it with my own optics, D-16 came out of the space bridge with an injured mech. I was unable to get close enough but the mech didn’t appear to be anyone from the High Guard.” He could hear the disinterest in Bee’s voice, but Optimus deigned to ignore it. “Must have found an off worlder mech. Didn’t know those existed.”

“Hm.”

It was a good enough dismissal.

He heard the other mech’s fading steps behind him, the door panels shutting open and close as he was left alone in his quarters once more.

After the war with the Quintessons, the strained truce between Iacon and the banished High Guard inevitably snapped.

He acknowledged that the Quintessons were the greater threat, but Optimus Prime would not allow the High Guard to continue existing after the crimes they had committed against Cybertronians and for daring to question his authority as Prime.

For selfish reasons, he couldn’t let the High Guard exist after they had stolen his conjunx from him.

The civil war continues on, and he won’t stop until he has the helm of every High Guard member displayed on a pike for all Cybertronians to see.

And not until he gets his conjunx back.

Optimus should thank that offworlder once he formally meets them. After all, they had unknowingly brought Dee back to Cybertron.

Knowing Dee and his softspark tendencies, he would stay on Cybertron until the mech was fully recovered, which gave Optimus more time to capture his conjunx.

He had nearly stormed the High Guard base himself when he had heard the circulated rumors that Dee had gone off world.

Optimus hadn’t believed it at first.

Dee was not a selfish mech.

While he had told him, back when Optimus was still Orion Pax, that his hope was to go off world and see the stars, Dee had brushed it off as nothing more than a dream. 

They were miners, they couldn’t have dreams.

Pax had felt sorry for him.

Then he was angry on his behalf.

Still, Optimus didn’t think Dee would ever try to achieve his dream.

Such a selfless mech.

Then the civil war waged on, and Optimus realized that he hadn’t seen Dee in several astroweeks.

He had sent some surveillance mechs over to the Decepticon base.

The rumors were true.

Dee had left Cybertron.

Had left him.

But that didn’t matter.

His conjunx had come back. 

Not for him, but he knew a good opportunity when he saw one.

Once he had Dee back, well, it wouldn’t be a good reunion.

For one, Optimus would have to snap those blue wings in half.

He couldn’t have his conjunx flying off without him.

He won’t take much pleasure from grounding his conjunx, but that should send a message through Dee’s thick helm that he could never leave his Prime.

Optimus would grant him the right to fly once Dee proved himself loyal.

Now…

He had plans to make.

[ppnuggie]

hi hello

Saw ur REQS open so I had to slither in !!

Was wondering if you could do a fluff Rodimus and megatron + reader one shot that involves cuddles and pure fluff and what not :3

Btw absolutely love your content!!, hope you’re doing absolutely great!!, don’t forget to keep urself hydrated and fed :3

　　　　　　MEGATRON ,, RODIMUS x gn reader

　　　　『　megatron ,, rodimus ,, lil hint of ravage ,, gender neutral reader 』

　　-> some morning cuddling with roddy and megs

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, crack

　　— here you go :3 there wasnt much for me to work with 😭 so its kinda short ,, sorry abt that but tysm for requesting !! :3

          the alarm clock blared ,, beeping loudly and awakening a certain captain . rodimus groaned ,, sitting upwards as he looked towards the monstrosity . " its not even monday yet ,, why havent you turned this cursed thing off ?" he grumbled as he shook your body awake . " cuz i dont feel like turning it back on sunday night ,, just hit the red button roddy ." you mumbled and turned to bury your face in megatron's chassis .

          megatron tucked an arm around you ,, pulling you close and lifting the covers over your body more . rodimus fought with the alarm clock for a minute before finally turning it off . he snuggled back under the blankets ,, wrapping his arms around your waist as he nuzzled into your neck . " at least we can sleep in on weekends ." he purred and pressed a kiss to your neck .

          you nodded and tilted your head to the side ,, leaving more space of your neck open for rodimus . he trailed more kisses on your skin ,, pressing his derma against your veins and up your jaw . megatron's hand pet the back of your head ,, a soft glimmer to his optics . all was nice ,, basking in the warmth of your partners as you started to lull back to sleep . at least until ravage busted in and started to berate rodimus and complain about swerve's service .

[robolvrr]

forged to please. ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

some mild suggestive headcanons. unhealthy dynamics.

sentinel prime x cybertronian secretary

airachnid plucked you from your filing job with unsettling familiarity. you quickly learned after the debrief that her optics, touch and croons were simply an extension of your shared's prime.

his very attention is shattering.

sentinel has no need for actual assistants. your first few cycles don't end up at his doorstep, so in your confusion of servitude you busy with the boring.

analytics. cancelling meetings as he's constant on the surface, rescheduling abandoned polls. when the lights flick you remain obedient at your desk, digits skimming through glass pads.

you do have a cog. however, you still pale in comparison to your coworkers and do not speak out of turn. you're not a miner nor are you cogless — but there are levels to status and you're still at the first couple of rungs on the metaphorical golden ladder.

little did you know, you're being watched. approvingly, even when your helm dares to dip back when your processors prompt recharge.

everyday, you arrive early. place your holopads in neat piles. slip an energon cube from your stack past your cushy, gray dermas and sit straight in your assigned seat.

frame flawless, as expected by a cog. since you don't race or proctor, you're more on the winsome side.

"them? really?"

"yeah. crazy right?" sentinel lazily watches the filmy recording, nestled camera aimed right in the corner. he can see your chassis. your cog and the ridges between your plating. clean. no mining dust. no scratches.

"look at 'em go. do they know that half what i give them is just.. nothing? they're so... so diligent. it's cute, no?"

airachnid shares a sideways glance.

slowly, your office grows more lavish. you notice changes to your desk arrangement. a golden twist of flora at your desktop. new chair, with cushion - a rarity and a treat. a fresh mug of engex earlier than you arrive.

and even slower, your coworkers start to distance farther than even you pushed them. you're being moved around cycles later, to higher floors. the work is a constant buzz that requires the utmost care and attention to detail.

you once question airachnid as she glides by silently just what you're doing here. you ex-vent when she leans forward, pursing her intake at you.

"don't ask questions you don't want answers to. you do good for him, you'll do good for a lifetime."

straightening, you're left unfortunately with more than before and you nervously return to your desk, with a beautiful view of iacon and an inkling that perhaps your constant promotions weren't as perfect as you previously assumed.

[ quota — increased. overtime required. ]

frustration bites as your digits flutter across keys. the office space, grand and empty and dark fills you with impatience. not that you'd dare show it, on the clock.

you guess that overtime still counts, though you prudently knock over data as you arise before you can coach yourself to calmness. you practically live here. serving, serving, all the blasted time. had you not proved your loyalty?

a watchful gaze peers at your aft when you saunter to the lounge, fed up for the day.

the smile directed your way isn't promising.

oh. so you can misbehave.

you practically live at work now. what started as a few assignments seemed to increase tenfold.

you're working overtime but know you're much too high the chain (and for such pointless, needless tasks) to back out.

you have no friends. no coworkers. the pretty knickknacks and golden pens and job security start closing in more like a gilded cage.

when the comm is received, you're almost weak at the joints. you reset your sight system several times at first because you assume it's a prank.

[ your prime requests your presence over the latest report. arrive promptly. ]

you're stumbling towards the elevator like a cyber mouse.

sentinel shouldn't enjoy the way you lose your professionalism. taking peeks in the slivers of mirror and spark no doubt rattling in that little chest of yours.

he shouldn't, in fact, hired you at all. you were a face along with many admirers. and primus, did iacon adore their prime.

he shouldn't have been seeing how much it took to break your mentality, either. a cruel experiment from a bored god of sorts.

and the recordings. airachnid made it clear her opinions of his.... enjoyment while you worked in element.

sometime in the toying, he's scrutinizing your frame. you barely make it up to his knee. your alt-mode upon a curious search isn't particularly flashy.

is that why he's so drawn to you? because you wallflower yourself, determined to hide despite the haven he's forced you in?

perhaps. or, he just hasn't had his fix yet.

the racers are always fun to play with. they lick, bite and rev when he chuckles his praise.

he's never been in a position of power like this though and taken that step over the line and suddenly, he rubs the kibble on his chin imagining you staring back at him, bent over, servos tied at the back of your waist.

his processor wanders. you, with flushed cheek plates. you, calling him boss. prime. whatever he fancied more. crawling towards him, balancing a glass of sweet, high-grade on your aft while he chats it away.

"my prime?"

sentinel does not turn to you, at first. you can see his wings, large and flawless. when he turns in his seat, you think perhaps the rumors of primes and their bright, piercing neons were true.

he grins. grandeur rolls off his glossa and you're shocked he knows your designation. as if he senses your shock he reassures he knows because he's kept close to your progress.

"you look tired. what good are you if not rested?"

sheepishly, your helm tilts away, tries to avoid the observation by curling into yourself. it's the funniest and most pathetic thing he's seen in awhile.

he leans forward, but not down to you. sentinel just invades your space because it's his.

you're his.

cutting off your stammers because he'd rather hear them in a more fitting context - fit, he wouldn't - his gesture tempts you closer. there is no need for collar and leash, not when this whole city dances at his every word.

you miss how his stare bores into you. peels back metal, cord and wire.

"listen. i couldn't bear my best struggling. but i also have to be firm. this great city, all of your fellow cybertronians, play a part in something bigger. which means... that work can't be unfinished."

he does not miss how you flinch. where are those kliks of rebellion? those whispered utterances of his name and hoping he'd be knocked down a peg?

"it can't slow down. in order to keep the spark of this very place alive, we all keep it turning."

he can sense your guilt. recall all the times you've actually cursed quietly, kicked at your desk, cried in the refreshers. cute.

"so i do have to ask. because if you can't handle it, i would rather you tell me right here, right now. no hard feelings."

the hopeful look almost makes him break out into laughter. and just like you're programmed, you look at him only when he nods, trying to find out what he wants.

"no. no, i can. i want to do more. want to be more." for you.

"then show me."

as much as he wanted to crack you open right then and there, he was curious how you would take his offer.

would you scorn him out like those endless nights? step back and make excuses? or would you surprise him?

his weight slides in the crushed velvet of his towering throne, watching as you bend.

your head meets the floor. his optic ridge ticks towards the sky.

"tell me what to do and your will is mine."

the prime hums.

well, now you're just making this too easy.

robolvrr 2024.

[theforestghost]

MegOP Week 2024 - Day 1

Day 1: Memory/Gift Fandom: Transformers Animated Prompt: Optimus is the reincarnation of the 13th but does not know it. Rating: G

Optimus stood in the observatory, optics watching the unfamiliar stars that twinkled all around him. Even though the system was unfamiliar, there was a sense of comfort being surrounded by space like this, by stars and meteors, no planets, no ships, just him and the universe. Like a cradle it wrapped its field around him in a familiar embrace he never remembered having. Despite his lack of memory, Optimus still returned to the stars any time he needed that embrace, seeking it out like a sparkling seeks their creators’ spark. Closing this optics, Optimus let himself be lulled into the unknown comfort that had now become nostalgic.

He was so engrossed in this feeling however, that he failed to notice the heavy steps coming up behind him, until an equally warm field did in fact wrap around him. Optimus opened his optics and looked up at Megatron who stood close enough to touch with the slightest movement. Far closer than anything Optimus thought he’d ever let the mech get. 

But much had changed since they had first met. Now they could sit in Megatron’s habsuite, discuss poetry and stories over oil and if Optimus ever made a snide remark, well Megatron merely chuckled and watched him like he had said the most endearing thing in the universe. It did something to Optimus’ struts whenever Megatron looked at him like that and he’d outright denied it for so long that even Ratchet got tired of him. The medic had even teamed up with Strika of all bots to lock them in a room together until they sorted out their feelings and now here they were, basking in each other's fields under the stars.

Though Optimus was far from complaining. Especially when those large servos were trailing down his arms, sparking warmth across his frame as they did. Optimus let out a deep ex-vent and finally leaned back against Megatron’s chassis.

“What is going on in that processor of yours, little one.” Megatron asked, his voice deep and low, reverberating through Optimus’s back struts without mercy.

Optimus stayed silent for a klik, absorbing the comfort of his existence before turning his focus back to the stars. “For a while now, I’ve been having recharge fluxes that… confuse me.” Optimus spoke hesitantly. He didn’t exactly know how to explain these flashes of information he had been seeing. Of course he’d spoken to Ratchet about them, but the medic assumed it was just all of the stress getting to him, which made sense. “At first they were just recharge fluxes, but lately I get them when I’m not in recharge.”

“What do you see?” Megatron asks when Optimus goes quiet again.

Optimus bit his derma, optics focusing on a cluster of stars in the distance. “Mostly of Cybertronians, the same group of them over and over. I think there are twelve of them… sometimes the flux is of just one or two, other times it’s a group.” Optimus leaned back to completely rest against Megatron, letting the warlord hold him. “Sometimes we are talking, but I can barely make out what they are saying, usually just a glyph or two. Other times… we are fighting against an enemy but I can never make out who or what.”

“You don’t recognize any of them?” Megatron asked, carefully stroking Optimus’ arms with his digits. Optimus shook his helm.

“But I feel like I know them.” Optimus said, tilting his helm back to look at Megatron. “They feel just as familiar to me as you or any of my team do. Like I should know these conversations, these fights! That I should know their designations and what they mean to me but anytime I try to go deeper, it all cuts off! Like the wires just abruptly disconnect when I try to delve any deeper.”

Optimus had a frustrated pout on his derma, one that Megatron found quite adorable but he refrained from letting the mech know that. Optimus was clearly distressed over these visions he’s been having. “Have you always had these for recharge fluxes?” Megatron asked. Once again, Optimus shook his helm.

“No. They didn’t start till we got to Earth.” Optimus noted. “After… coming in contact with the AllSpark!”

“The AllSpark has the ability to heal more than just our frames, it is possible it partially recovered lost memories of yours.” Megatron said.

“Lost memories from when?” Optimus retorted. “I don’t have any gaps that I can recall!”

“The Council has means of overwriting a bot’s memories with ease. Shadow Play is a technique they are not beyond using if they deem necessary. You could have your entire processor rewritten and be none the wiser.” Megatron looked Optimus in the optic as he spoke, his derma tight in a line. 

Optimus instinctively wanted to repute Megatron’s claims, defend the Council and  deny his memories were ever changed. But he knew deeper down that Megatron could very easily be right. That the Council could very easily rewrite him and he’d never know. These were just some of the reasons why he’d chosen to side with Megatron in the end, because his Council had discarded them the moment they could.

“Great, so now I’m dealing with the possibility of having Shadow Play done to me along with everything else!” Optimus grumbled, crossing his arms over his chassis as he leaned more weight against Megatron. The large mech clearly didn’t mind as he moved his arms to embrace Optimus more. 

“That is a possibility, I can have Soundwave look into it more though.” Megatron offered. “He is far more adverse in matters of the processor than I am.”

Optimus looked up at Megatron and pondered the idea. Soundwave was a telepath and had the ability to dive far deeper into one’s processor than a medic could. It felt invasive but Optimus wanted answers and Soundwave could give them to him. 

“Okay.” He said.

Megatron smiled and gave Optimus a gentle squeeze. “I will inform him tomorrow then.”

“Thank you.” Optimus said with an ex-vent.

“I can think of a way you can properly thank you.” Megatron purred, leaning down.

Optimus turned to him and boldly pressed a kiss to Megatron’s derma but withdrew rather quickly. “That good enough?” He asked, his voice a light tease.

“No.” Megatron growled. He grabbed Optimus, lifting the smaller mech up and kissed him harder, using one servo to hold his helm. “I think this is a good start though.”

[kalixora]

Wreckings

Transformers Prime

Reader is presumed female

Reader is an autobot

“Hey Y/N!!!”

Miko yelled as she approached you, waving enthusiastically. You groaned as you shifted your gaze to the human child. Aside from Bulkhead and Wheeljack being on a mission, you'd assume Miko would join Bumblebee and Raph on whatever little trip they were on... yet she chose to stay with you in the base, alone. Ratchet was doing something only Primus knows what and clearly didn't want to be bothered, so you were the only bot Miko could torment.

“Yes Miko?”

Miko shone up at you from the small area the kids have on base, she stood on the couch while gazing up at you, Miko had a habit of doing that from time to time, it never troubled you personally, but it did make you wonder why she only gave you that look and not anybody else.

“So? I gotta know, on Cybertron how does like dating work?”

“Dating?” You tilt your helm in confusion.

“Yeah! Like ya know- if you have romantic feelings or relationships with anyone on your planet?”

“Oh! Well…” you shifted your optics towards Ratchet as he let out a slight chuckle still continuing his work. “Why don’t you ask Ratchet? He’s been around a lot longer than I have and I’m sure he could tell you all about that.”

Ratchet turned his helm with a scoff, “Don’t lump me into whatever that conversation is…”

“Ah come on Ratchet, I’m sure you had some femme look in your direction,” you said crossing your arms. “Maybe even a few mechs?”

Ratchet raised his optical ridge at you and you couldn’t help but cover your derma.

Miko laughed, “No offense Rach, but you don’t really look like a lady killer.”

You snickered as Ratchet scoffed slightly. “I’m a busy medic, I had no time for that stuff what so ever. Thank you oh so much.”

Miko turned back to you and made a wry smile at you, it freaked you out a little how she was able to twist her face like that.

“What?”

“So like you’re telling me that you didn’t have time for relationships either?” Miko placed her hands on her hip.

“Yes?”

“Uh huh-“

Ratchet huffed, “I beg to Primus.”

You turned your helm towards the medic’s direction. “I’m sorry is there something you wish to say? Doc?”

Ratchet didn’t turn his helm but instead only grunted at the name you called him. “Not even a certain scout caught your attention maybe even a certain wrecker?”

You raised optical ridge, “If your referring to Bumblebee then I see him as family, and if your referring to Wheeljack then I wouldn’t cross that line with you… I know how much you adore him.”

Ratchet groaned in annoyance, “Please, I can’t get anything done with that scarp yard metal around. On the contrary you seem to have a soft spot of his partner. Not that anyone but myself has noticed.”

“You-“

Before you could speak Miko let out an ear piercing squeal.

Miko gasped, “Bulkhead?! You have feelings for Bulky?!”

You turned your gaze at Miko, “Oh no- no no, Bulkhead and I are friends. It’s strictly professional between us.”

“So she says,” Ratchet grumbles.

“I do not!” You scoffed. “We’ve been friends forever. Why would I want to ruin that over some romantic feelings?”

Miko hummed grinning at you, “Who says you couldn’t have romantic feelings for a friend hm?”

“I don’t have any interest in Bulkhead.”

“That’s a load of bull and you know it Y/N!” Miko says pointing at you. “Admit it! You’re so totally into Bulkhead!”

“I am not! Miko you’re speaking nonsense right now,” you argued.

“You do!”

“There’s no evidence to prove anything that whatsoever.”

Ratchet let out a fake cough to which you rolled your optics. “Is there something stuck in your vocalizer Ratchet? Because you’re mighty talkative for someone who’s supposed to be busy.”

Ratchet turned to fully face you now, “Oh I’m sorry, here let me just call Bulkhead for you now so you’re aware of his status on the mission since you’re ever so worried.”

“You waste of dirty scarp meta-“

“Y/N come on this is a safe space, if you have feelings for Bulky just come out and say it, there’s no shame to it,” Miko said now sitting on the couch.

“Miko, I don’t have any feelings towards Bulkhead, he’s my friend and I admire him, that’s it,“ You said calmly. “I’m going out for a drive… Miko would you care to come with?”

Miko perked up and nodded, “Heck yeah!”

You smiled as your placed your servo out for Miko to climb onto it.

“Just call us back when everyone arrives Ratchet.”

Ratchet turned back to his work and waved you off. “Be careful.”

Driving out of base, Miko began to play her rock music and air play the guitar as she listened to the music, after about a few minutes she paused it and stared out the window.

“Something the matter?” You asked her.

Miko shook her head, “Nah… just thinkin about something.”

“What is it?”

Miko leaned back in the seat and let out an exaggerated sigh, “Well~”

You sighed already knowing what she was thinking about. “Lemme guess about me and Bulkhead.”

Miko giggled, “Maybe~”

“Whatever it is the answer is no.”

“Aw come on!” Miko groans. “All those years you spent together, you’ve seriously felt nothing?”

“Miko… you know what… okay fine I did.”

Miko’s eye lit up with excitement, but her demeanor didn’t change. “Are you for real or are you just saying that to make me shut up?”

You sighed again, “No. I did at a point have feelings for Bulkhead.”

“What happened? Why’d you stop? Come on Y/N I gotta know! Please!” Miko began to plead nonstop.

“Okay okay fine, but you need to swear to never EVER say a word to anyone, or Bulkhead himself. Do you understand?”

Miko nods repeatedly, “Yes yes I swear! Tell me!”

“Well… I do NOT have feelings for him.”

Miko groaned loudly, “Y/N seriously!”

“I don’t Miko… I just, never gotten around to that kind of stuff, he’s a great friend and I admire him a lot but that’s the furthest I’ve come across as feelings wise,” you said. “I need you to understand that okay?”

Miko sighed, “I get it…but be honest have you had crushes on anyone?”

“…Maybe a few.”

Miko gasped, “WHO? OH PLEASE TELL ME!”

“Alright I’ll humor you… there was this one bot-“

Com link: Y/N back to base

Y/N: Copy. On the way back.

“You ready to see Bulkhead Miko?” You asked, slightly wanting to change the subject but you know Miko wasn’t going to let it go so easily.

“Yup, but do continue about this bot that captured your attention.”

[Back at base]

The kids went room for the night and everyone went off to go into recharge and rest up for the night, everyone except the medic himself.

You walked up to him slowly making sure not to spook him. But he noticed you rather quickly. Ratchet looked at you for a brief moment then turned back to his work. “Shouldn’t you be in recharge?”

“Shouldn’t you be doing the same thing?” You asked stepping beside him and looking at what he was doing.

“I’m working.”

“I can see that,” you hummed turning to look at the medic. “Was the Bulkhead thing really necessary Ratchet?”

“What? And have Miko running around and talking about you and me? Absolutely not,” Ratchet huffed.

“Right…”

Ratchet stopped his work to face you. You went around him and turned off his monitor, he glared at you, “Y/N I needed that.”

“As much as you need me?” You asked moving closer to him. Ratchet stumbled for a moment then smiled shaking his helm, “Not nearly as much as I need you.”

“That’s what I thought, now Ratchet be honest with me, are jealous of Bulkhead?”

Ratchet scoffs, “As if I-“

“Ratchet.”

“Okay fine, maybe just a little… I’ve seen the way he looks at you now and I just- I don’t know…”

You place your servo on Ratchet’s chest plate and gave him a gentle smile, “He’s adorable sure but you’re the one that has my attention and that will never change Ratchet. Even if Miko annoys me until the bitter end.”

Ratchet laughed and rolled his optics, “Maybe telling her won’t be such a bad idea after all.”

“Perhaps,” you agreed. “But you’re not gonna do that are you doc?”

“Nope absolutely.”