#finial battle

[sw5w]

Anakin Fires

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:51:35

[rabotimagines]

"Pet names" pt2 GN! BOT Reader + Prowl, Ratchet, Blaster, Bumblebee, Skyfire

Summary: Reader has become partial to using human pet names for everyone.

Warnings: none.

Genre/Theme: Platonic/with hints of crush

G1 characters included: Prowl, Ratchet, Blaster, Bumblebee, Skyfire.

Notes: Cybertronian Reader, Reader is around Ironhides age so older in mind

Pronouns: You, your, yours, them, they

Prowl is trying to get a verbal review of your report while finishing up his own. You've all been busy the past week, so you're walking through the ark hall while conversing. And you finish, so you move to hand him the physical report on the datapad. "Here you go, Pudding."

Prowl full-on stops in place when he hears what you say, fully expecting his audials to be glitching. "What did you just say?"

"Here you go, Pudding." You hold the datapad out, still completely unperturbed by what you'd just done and even more so when having to repeat it. Prowl processor lags- Because you're calling him- human pet names of all things without reason. But he forces his system to straighten out and consider your personality. This stops it from getting worse since this may just be you behaving like... you.

"You know my designation." Prowl settles on stating the fact.

"I do." You stated back, still wordlessly holding the datapad for him to take. Annoyance slowly seeps into Prowls frame at the exchange, and he takes the datapad from you.

Prowl gives you a long calculating look. "Do not do it again." He settled on.

You just shrugged, a small smirk curling on your derma. "Okay later then, Pumpkin." You turn and leave before Prowl comprehends this pet name, which makes his helm snap to your retreating form.

Prowl does not enjoy it. The incessant pet names you'd elected to now refer every autobot with. His wings twitch in annoyance whenever you call him "Pumpkin" or "Pudding" or allspark forbid "Peaches." Optimus fully pauldron shaking laughed the first time you'd called him that one. You humiliating Prowl was not how he wanted Optimus to get his R&R. However, he will tolerate it slightly more when Optimus is in the room. If not to watch you make a fool of Optimus, instead of him. Prowl had attempted to scold you the first time he'd seen you call Optimus "Sweetspark." their leaders' finials had pulled back when you'd done so- Optics brightened. But Optimus informed Prowl that he actually does enjoy the pet names. Prowl doesn't understand even after Oprimus's explanation of the supposed "benefits" of your behavior.

But he does look and watch after that and must conceded that there was- some, however mild, merit to the autobots general mood when you'd use your pet names. It was merely a bother in Prowls system, but he supposed he could make the sacrifice for the morale of the autobots.

Prowl wouldn't like it, however.

-

Ratchets resetting your leg juncture back into place after a battle. You hadn't bothered to come to him till after he got through everyone else. You'd apparently "forgotten" about it in the hustle of making sure everyone else got seen first. Slag is what it was, and Ratchet made sure you knew exactly what he thought. It realigns and clicks into place with you digging a servo against his pauldron with a hissing vent. You relaxed your jaw and nod in gratitude. "Ha- Thanks, love."

Ratchet almost coughs in shock, his plating flaring a touch. But after years of hearing everything from patients in pain or in surgery high on something, he just clicks his glossia. "Next time, don't forget to mention your own injuries."

Ratchet had assumed it was just a slip of the glossia at the time due to the pain and let it slide. Then the next time you're reporting from Optimus to him and call him "Handsome." And he's asking you to repeat that, which you shamelessly do with a smirk. Ratchet scoffed and told you he wasn't going to go any easier on you the next time you forget to come in. No matter how much you try flattering him. Then he sees you with the other autobots and learns you've simply picked this up as a habit.

Ratchet has to resist the urge to roll his optics every time you do it with him. He's gone from being prickly in response with you to half seriously threatening to short your mouth circuit if you didn't stop. But you only continued to do just that. Whenever you called him "Love," his damn spark hummed a touch louder. You've realized that too and tend to only use that more often or not. Much to his- exasperation. Ratchet does enjoy the casual affection to a degree. Reminds him of his younger days. The easier ones. So he doesn't ever throw a wrench at you for the pet names themselves.

Ratchet does definitely enjoy watching the others more than being on the receiving end. Watching Optimus's finials twitch, then pull forward slightly and his plating fluffing in response. Or Ironhide looking like he was going to blow a minor fuse from how bright his own optics were while he unsuccessfully tried to get you to stop. Even Prowls door wings twitching in obvious disdain makes Ratchet crack a smirk at least. So Ratchet let's it be for the most part. They could use some "softer" interactions around the base.

...

He's still telling you to stop whenever you do it to him, though.

-

Blasters cool with it. He's been in it with the humans at parties or at clubs (the ones he could fit in anyway.) And he's seen and even been on the receiving end of flirting pet names on the occasion. You calling him "Babe" didn't trigger much but an amused smirk. Blaster will return a few casual pet names himself a "Babe" here and there. But what is not cool is Jazz and you being as cringe inducing as possible on his audials. Blaster is sooooo sick of being subjected to you and Jazz's "flirting." It ain't flirting it's a failing clown show!

You'll get more of a fond smile when Blaster sees you pet naming his cassettes. They all fumbled a touch when you'd called them something with sweetness in your tone. Steeljaw, like always, is aloof and focused when you're on the clock. But when you're off? Just chilling at the ark? Steeljaw is a little slagger. Rewind and Eject at least have the decency to only do it when it's natural. Steeljaw will seek you out with his olfactory when you're both off duty to get called sweet names by you.

"I'm so glad you're still here, Foxy." You waved at Jazz, who was standing next to Blaster.

"And I'm so glad to see you too, Snookums." Jazz's tone is so absurd it actually makes Blaster feel physically tired.

"And I'm gonna purge." Blaster bluntly remarks, causing you both to turn to him, then share a look with each other. Jazz smiles in a way Blaster recognizes and is immediately cautious. Blaster jolts when you're suddenly leaning into his space. Your digits are now just barely tracing his boombox buttons.

You smile like a felinoid, and Blasters tries to back up, but Jazz is suddenly pressing up behind him, preventing his escape. Jazz's arms even wrapped around Blasters middle. You speaking makes his gaze snap back to you. "Come on, Baby, don't you wanna have some fun?" You worried your optical ridge, and Blasters glossia is feeling really thick in his mouth now.

Then, his dock compartment snaps open of its own accord, and Steeljaw ejects and forms right into your arms. You just chuckle and heft his cassette into a more comfortable position. "Hey baby! I know you won't say no to a little TLC, Blaster, however..."

Blaster, now broken out of that little trance, shook to break out of Jazz's hold. Jazz, however, did not release him - "Sorry Blaster! You're not approved for release until you enjoy at least five compliments from both of us!" Like pit Blaster was! He wasn't sticking around to hear the kind of slag you both called flirting! Blaster looked at Steeljaw for help only to slack at the smile on his cassettes muzzle. The little traitor!

-

Bumblebee isn't ambushed by it like the others- He's already heard through the autobot gossip about your new little routine. So he's mostly prepared and more wondering when/what you'd call him. You haven't used a pet name with him yet, so he's waiting on his pedes for it to happen. He half ends up wondering if you'll exclude him for some reason when you finally do it after a minor battle with the cons.

You're doing head count and injury report for Ratchet and get to him. Bumblebee almost trips, but you catch his arm and steady him. "Careful Honey, don't injure yourself after the battle."

Bumblebees optics burn only a touch brighter, but he's mostly amused. "Honey? Because of my designation translation?"

You just smirked, your own amusement growing in your em field. Bumblebee could feel it with how close you were right now. You leaned a touch further into his space. "What? Can't be because you're so sweet?" The heady wave of playful affection in your field mixed with that makes Bumblebees optics brighten in embarrassment proper. You just chuckled and squeezed his arm before moving to continue to make your post battle rounds. While Bumblebee wordlessly watched you go.

Bumblebee enjoys the attention even if it's admittedly embarrassing. Bumblebee thinks he might almost enjoy seeing the other autobots' reactions more than getting your attention himself. Almost anyway. While yeah it's definitely funny watching Ironhide especially try and get you to stop. Bumblebee enjoys each time you share a pet name with him just a little bit more. Bumblebee does admittedly feel a bit giddy whenever it happens. It makes him stand up a bit taller and makes him smile a touch whenever he hears it. A small rush of confidence courses through him every time.

The first time you called Bumblebee, "Lovebug." Though? Bumblebee walked right into one of the ark walls.

-

"Hey, teddy bear!" Teddy bear-? The small plush toys human children carry around? Skyfire stops when you call it out in the ark hallway, because he had no clue who you'd be directing the name towards... only to watch you wander right up to him. Skyfires optics widen a touch when you stop in front of him and look at him expectantly.

"Am I...?" Skyfire wondered aloud.

You only smirked and simply held out a datapad for him to take "Yeah you, teddy bear, need you to review this for me so I can approve it for Perceptor or not."

"I- Alright." Skyfire took the datapad unsure if he should ask about the name or not.

"Thank you, Darling." Now that one makes Skyfires optics brighten a touch. But you just salute him with two digits and go on your way again.

Skyfire quickly learns this was something of a habit you had picked up when he overhears the twins complaining about their pet names from you. Skyfire finds himself enjoying the affectionate names even if they do fluster him a touch. The affections were kind and freely given out by you. It was refreshing for Skyfire, especially after having joined this vorns long war, to hear them roll off your glossia. To see the crinkle in your optics. And to feel the light affection in your em field if he happened to be close enough to you when you did so. It was- normal. A touch embarrassing yes, but almost painfully normal.

You'd keep switching, but you mostly called him "Bear" or "Teddy bear," and on occasion "Darling". He'd asked about the Teddy bear nickname in particular since he understood darling as a pet name a touch more. And you just smirked and completely unabashed and said, "Humans say it's for someone big, dependable and lovable. So I think it fits pretty well." Skyfire ends up so embarrassed by the casual remark he can feel cobalt on his own faceplate. He ends up putting his servo over his own faceplate and looking anywhere but you. While you just laughed light at Skyfires own expense.

After that exchange, hearing you call him "Bear" or "Teddy bear" makes Skyfires optics brighten more than "Darling."

[crypt2niite]

who wants to read about optimus prime dissasociating and hallucinating about megatron/d-16 and orion pax for 3.3k words!

---

there are expectations, of a prime. of duty- servitude. protection, guidance. he imagines it ought to be stifling- orion pax would have thought it so. optimus wonders if he should find it so as well.

strength is not only his duty, but his birthright. his purpose. war- conflict. protection. battle. he was born into it. he will die amongst it, he assumes.

---

like this, lowered to the ground, hydraulics weakened, gear-locks disengaged- he can almost imagine himself a body the memories of which are abstract and unfamiliar. smaller- sweeter, perhaps.

orion pax was not one to kneel, either.

still, this is as close as he can get to his once self.

there is a ghost, at the edge of his processor, two, if he allows them. three, if he wishes. His beginnings, his eternity, and his enevitible end.

---

red morphs into orange into gold. end into eternity into beginning. into memories that belong not to him- but memories he clings to nontheless

soft optics and a aggrieved smile. optimus is a mech who was born haunted. A ghost of something someone he once knew once knew.

a hand, open and gentle, servos almost brushing against his cheek.

just oh so slightly to the left. a slight tilt of the helm is all it would take to shatter the illusion in front of him.

he refrains. permits himself imagine the hollow sound of metal tapping against metal. instead of silence, air brushing by his finials

---

'you look like him, like this. You know.'

'like orion.' (lies)

If he could reply. bring himself to online his voice module, respond to this haunting of his own mind- of orions spark. what would he say?

orion is dead. you killed him

'It was orions fault, though.'

'he got in the way.'

yeah.

---

knelt low, servos curled to his thighs,fans halted and processes slowed.

Like this, optimus could almost be mistaken for a statue. not particularly serene, but -

there is a tension to him. he arose to war. forged for battle. it is inate.

---

If it had been orion in his place-

---

blue optics stare at up him, bright and sweet.

optimus wants to hate him, hate him almost as much as he pities him.

one half of his beginning.

a spark that lays within his own. intertwined- smothered, protected, maybe. he wonders how much of him is orion. how much of orion was him.

slowly coaxing closed. he will smother what is left, eventually. it is not a relief.

---

he loved you. He wants to say it, wants to online his optics and his vocals and see this non-existent spectre that has been passed onto him by orion pax.

wants to shout at it this truth that he was born into. wants to profess the love of a mech that died for his birth for a mech that died for the same over and over again.

as if that truth couldve changed anything, couldve saved d-16 and orion pax. couldve stopped the spark that resides in his chest from curling and twisting into that of a prime. into himself.

---

back into orange into red.

"I love you I love you I love you I love you"

It beats in his chest like a drum

not only had orion left him his ghosts, he had left his love, and as orion died and so rose optimus, so did d-16 die, and so rose megaton.

was it so strange, then? that the love that orion pax held so dearly to his spark, died as well, and so rose for optimus prime, love. as well?

---

blue shutters into life. He turns his attention elsewhere. He remains a coward. does not want to view the nothing that he knows is there.

---

[tnight877]

Friends Throw Wrenches for Each Other

"I wish you were here."

Optimus sat at the edge of his berth, his servos trembling in his lap as he stared blankly at the floor.

He couldn't figure out exactly where everything had gone so wrong. Was it breaking protocol and saving Jazz in the mines? D-16 hadn't seemed outraged, even when they returned to the barracks after each receiving a fist to the face. In fact, that only seemed to solidify their bond.

It must have been the Iacon 5000. D hadn't wanted to race yet Orion had forced him to. That outraged Darkwing, led to them being dropped down to sub-level 50 where they found the map, which led to the truth about Sentinel, the gift (or curse) of a T-cog, and everything spiraling from there.

It's all my fault.

Why had the Primes chosen him after he'd made so many mistakes? He was the reason their planet was slowly being dragged into war. If Orion Pax hadn't been so reckless, none of this would have happened. Sure, Sentinel would still be in control and Orion and D-16 would still have been miners, but they would have been together.

He could never forget the look in D's optics as the High Guard cheered for him after he'd nearly killed Starscream. He could never forget the fear he'd felt in that very moment, feeling his dearest friend slipping from his grasp.

Knowledge was a curse, Optimus decided, pushing to his pedes. He needed to do something. Anything. He needed to fix this.

~

"You do know it's not your fault, right?" Ratchet didn't look up at Optimus as he patched a hole in Ironhide's armor, the glow of the welder glancing off his white plating. "None of this is."

"I wasn't--"

"You were thinking that. That's why you're in here. For the record, you can't help Starscream's violent impulses. He probably would have launched a missile at Ironhide whether or not Megatron was his overlord."

"He's right, Prime," Ironhide agreed. Ratchet made a gesture towards the red bot as if to say I told you so. Optimus' finials perked slightly.

"Now, did you need something?" Ratchet asked, side eyeing the Prime. "Hate to point it out, but you're not the smallest bot around and this lab isn't the biggest."

Color flushed into Optimus' cheeks and he moved to duck out of the room. "Apologies," he said hastily. "Er...Ratchet, might I have a word with you later?"

"Sure. I'll meet you at MacCadam's when I get off."

~

MacCadam's is going to have to take a raincheck.

Perhaps he should have been concerned that that was his first thought as Starscream, who was apparently puppy guarding the entrance to the surface, let off a round of shots, several pinging off Optimus' armor.

"Are you stupid?" B-127 shouted from Optimus' side, the scout's battle mask deploying and his blades unsheathing. Starscream transformed and landed, forming the blasters on his arms and pointing them at the pair.

"Who's got the high ground here, bug?" the seeker sneered. His voice still sounded glitchy, grating on Optimus' audio processors. In an instant, he was back in the cave, D-16's servos choking the former king of the High Guard, Starscream egging him on.

"Bear witness! This is the last time I show mercy!"

Optimus was brought back to reality when his backstruts hit the ground, B charging towards Starscream and taking a flying leap towards the seeker. The Prime pushed himself up, shaking his helm and engaging his battle mask.

Starscream grabbed B by the throat, swinging him around and slamming him against the wall, pounding his fist repeatedly into the scout's mask. Optimus unsheathed his axe as he ran forward, though Starscream turned at the last second, taking B with him. Optimus faltered, his axe swinging upwards and dragging him backwards to avoid hitting B, the scout kicking furiously at the seeker.

"You're so clumsy. The Primes must be ashamed," Starscream laughed. B raised his fist, his blade elongating just before he drove it into Starscream's shoulder, the seeker shrieking and hurling the scout to the side. B rolled backwards to his pedes, digging his blades into the ground to slow his skidding stop.

Optimus stood, shoving his axe against Starscream's throat as the seeker struggled to recover. He squeaked, pawing at Optimus' wrist.

"Please!" Starscream rasped, pressing himself against the wall in an attempt to give himself room to breathe. Optimus' optics widened slightly at the plea. "I beg of you!"

"This is the last time I show mercy!"

Optimus jerked his axe away from Starscream, the weapon retracting as he moved to grip his helm. Stop it. Stop it!

He grunted when Starscream kicked him from behind, hitting the ground on all fours. He turned just as Starscream kicked him again, pointing his blaster at B as the scout moved towards him. The seeker pressed his pede against Optimus' backstruts, leaning down.

"How satisfying would it be for me to kill the last Prime?" he sneered.

Would he be wrong? The Matrix can only be held by someone worthy. Starscream couldn't take it. Maybe it would be better if Optimus wasn't there to keep making mistakes, keeping driving their planet further into conflict.

Starscream reared backwards as something collided with his helm with a solid clang. The seeker stumbled back, gripping his helm with one servo, waving his blaster aimlessly with the other.

"What in the Pits of Kaon--"

"Beat it, Starscream," Ratchet snapped, beating a wrench against his palm. He pulled the tool back over his shoulder. "We're done here. You're trespassing on Autobot territory, and you're here without backup. Get. Out."

"Don't make us tell you again," B snarled, his blades flaring.

"Alright, alright!" Starscream relented, taking a step back before flipping backwards and transforming, taking off and creating a cloud of dust in his wake.

Ratchet waved the dust off half-heartedly as he approached Optimus, offering his servo. The Prime took it, allowing the medic to pull him to his pedes.

"You can take Megatron but not his second in command? The whiny seeker?" Ratchet asked, arching one optic ridge. Optimus sighed, rubbing behind his neck.

"I...there are some things I need to...work through."

"Well, I'm officially off duty. Let's head over to MacCadam's. You can tell me about it there." Ratchet offered him a small, genuine smile. "Doctor's orders?"

Optimus stared at the medic, then found himself returning the smile and lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "If you say so," he replied. He turned to B. "Would you care to join us?"

"I was going to meet up with Elita and run some recon," B said, waving off the offer. "But maybe we'll catch up with you guys later tonight. Have fun talking about old people things!"

Ratchet glared at the scout, lifting his wrench. B squeaked and transformed, taking off across the smooth terrain. The medic huffed, tucking the wrench back into his subspace and moving back towards the road leading into Iacon, Optimus following closely.

~

"I'm lucky you were there today," Optimus admitted as he sat down with Ratchet, a waiter bringing them each a cube. The Prime nodded gratefully, Ratchet shaking his helm.

"I'm sure you would have managed. But it's been a long day and I was ready for a break. Besides. You look like you've got something on your mind. Perhaps I'm not a therapist, but I can prescribe sleep and less work."

Optimus huffed a soft laugh, circling his digits around the cube. "It's nothing important," he said quietly. "I've made a bigger deal about it than I should have."

"It's D-16, isn't it?"

Optimus' gaze snapped up to Ratchet, his optic ridges furrowing. "How did you--"

"You blame yourself for everything that's happened because of him. You do realize he's an autonomous being, right? He makes his own decisions."

"I know that," Optimus muttered, glancing away. "But it's not only that. I...he was my best friend. I wanted to change the world for him. I..." He groaned softly, resting his helm in his servos.

"I'm sorry."

He glanced up as Ratchet lifted his cube to his intake, closing his optics briefly as he drank. He set the cube down, folding his servos atop the table. Optimus blinked. Ratchet glanced down at his servos, his intake twisting slightly.

"I know it hurts," the medic said plainly. "And it leaves a gaping hole in your spark. I know. You wake up expecting someone to be there but they're not. But holding onto that pain is only ever going to hurt you. We have our reality now. It's time to accept that." His optics softened even as Optimus prepared himself for the verbal blow. "It's time to let D-16 go."

"I know," the Prime whispered, his voice breaking, his digits curling around his finials. "I know. But I don't know how."

He startled at the tap on his helm, Ratchet setting his servo back on the table as the Prime looked up. "How about starting with that?" The medic nodded to the untouched cube. "I know it doesn't work on you, but maybe we can use the placebo effect."

"I don't think--"

"Sh." Ratchet downed the rest of his cube in one go, tossing the empty cube aside. "Your turn. Five seconds."

"What?"

"Drink it in five seconds."

Optimus stared at him, but Ratchet didn't blink. The Prime glanced down at his cube, his digits curling around the sharp edges.

"I don't have all night."

Oh, what the heck. Optimus lifted the cube to his intake and downed it in one swallow. Ratchet let out a sharp cackle, slapping his servo on the table.

"Oh, boy," the medic said with a vicious grin. "We're going to need refills."

Optimus' gaze softened as Ratchet turned to flag the nearest waiter down, and for the first time in a long time, he found he didn't miss D-16 so much anymore.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Ever since I read your Innocent Abominations story I've been thinking about the Matrix going in the exact opposite direction. This ancient, sentient, vaguely eldritch relic of a demigod takes one look at the Terrans and goes "BABIES!!!". Optimus barely even glances at them during their first meeting to check it they're ok and is promptly sucker-punched by divine parental instincts. As far as the two are concerned the Terrans are their niephlings and by Primus are they going to do all they can to help these younglings with the inevitable nonsense that will come with being the children of one of the Thirteen. They are prepared to live, die and kill for these children.

We love a good ol protective Op in this house.

Original concept here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Optimus never hated sparklings or even younglings for that matter. He didn't exactly have plans to be a parent, but he'd been a mentor more than enough times to not be against the concept of potentially having progeny of his own. Of course all potential plans would come to fruition once the war was over and extinction didn't loom over his helm. At least that was what he thought.

When Bumblebee informed him of the Terrans existence, Optimus was pleased, but that was all. New Cybertronian life was always something to be cherished in a time when no newsparks had emerged since the war was at its peak. He didn't interact with the Terrans, largely for their own safety.

Then the time came, and he finally met the little ones.

The Matrix was never particularly talkative. It did not approve of war, and thus often kept quiet unless it was offering necessary wisdom and encouragement. But one glance at the Terrans proved to be enough to bring an end to its millennia long vow of silence. For the first time, Optimus heard the Matrix speak with words rather than in images or knowledge.

"Our younglings."

That was all it said, but Optimus felt it in every single fiber of his being. The Matrix had spoken, and as its vessel, Optimus obeyed. His very code shifted, command trees that he had never even known existed sprung to life, and before he knew it, he was already on a knee reaching out to shake the servos of the little ones. His finials perked up in a friendly manner, his field flared out in bursts, and his plating sat at an amicable mid flare, just enough to show trust. All this was done unconsciously as, without his knowledge, his very voice adjusted to be softer.

By the time all was said and done, the battle over, and the children safely escorted home, Optimus had never felt so alive. Megatron gave him the most disturbed look Optimus had ever witnessed, but at that moment, he didn't care. Within him the Matrix was already speaking again, offering thinly veiled orders and continuing to adjust him so that he would be better suited to the new task ahead of him.

All that kept him from hightailing it over to the Maltos every single day was Elita physically dragging him back toward wherever he was meant to be. Everyone was on edge watching Optimus fall further and further into his strangely happy daydreams. To them, it looked like what the humans called "baby fever" but on steroids. Optimus didn't even wait a week before he was obsessing over how to properly interact with the Terrans. He started making things for them and then promptly put them away since in his optics it simply wasn't good enough.

The Matrix had him on the move all the time, constantly reminding him of the little ones that were well within his reach. It had already begun all of its internal adjustments, and so all it had left to do was to make Optimus more appealing. The Matrix began the long process of hiding the outright malicious looking equipment on the Prime's frame, even softening his features somewhat so that he would come off as more peaceful. Optimus for his part didn't notice his frame bulking up in order to make him a better guardian. He most certainly wasn't aware of the way his very frame was edging into something firmer and yet less intimidating. A quiet guardian, that was what the Matrix wanted.

When all was said and done, Megatron was slightly terrified of this new and strangely cheery Optimus and Elita was no better. Both united over their shared concerns and opted to quietly watch Optimus when he finally found a decent excuse to visit the Terrans. Megatron was incredibly on edge when Optimus all but bolted toward the Maltos residence and then skidded to a perfect stop so that he could walk forward calmly as if nothing had happened. He was so focused on performing well that the battle hardened warrior all but vanished.

In his place was the dock worker from long before the war. An excitable young mech eager to help and offer what wisdom he had. The Terrans were pleasantly surprised to find that the supposedly ancient Optimus Prime was, from what they were seeing, a gentle giant. The Matrix had never been more pleased when Optimus settled down and offered to engage with the Terrans in whatever manner they found best. He spent the whole day with them, reading, telling stories, letting them beat him in mock battles, and teaching them what he could of Cybertron.

There was no violence to be seen in him as he played. Megatron was slightly terrified, but he said nothing and allowed the moment. It was only when Optimus hummed an old folk tune and wrapped the Terrans in his field that Megatron finally understood what was going on.

"You can't adopt them. They have a family here."

"We are well aware. Don't worry. We have no intention of taking them away."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"They are the offspring of our brother. They are young and must be guided by kin."

"You don't have any siblings Optimus."

"I do not, but together, WE do."

"Oh not the Prime slag again. That relic hasn't done anything during the war, so why would it act now?"

"The Matrix had no reason to act. It detests war. New life has given us something to unite over."

"So you are going to teach them?"

"Yes. We will guide and watch over them. We will not be their parents, that is not our station. But we will always be here for them... for that is the duty of a Prime."

Every moment he could spare, Optimus did everything in his power to make time for the Terrans. The Matrix sang when he visited, and despite how much it weirded out Bumblebee, the human Maltos, and Megatron, Optimus kept coming back.

Younglings born of Quintus. He never thought it would come to pass. And yet here they were, bright and full of life.

Despite his new and more docile appearance, Optimus Prime was more than ready to act when the Terrans were targeted. The Matrix abhorred war. But it was not necessarily against violence in small doses.

[razzellyn]

A little something while you wait, also this one is a bit short :0 (notes in the end?)

Cuddles!!

No tricks this time!! Just fluffy cuddle session!!!

MCB

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Blue Cop

• A bit sheepish at first but definitely a cuddle bug after he relaxed onto it. It helps him release his stress! He'll need lots of cuddles after every battle please!!

• Blue Cop will be embarrassed though when someone else sees the two of you cuddling each other. It's an intimate moment for him, thank you very much.

• Definitely snuggles onto you. Like really onto you. He likes cuddles. Give him cuddles. Cops need to relax too!

Mega Trucker

• Definitely against the idea at first, thinking it's corny or whatever. But when you did drag him to cuddle with you, let's just say he's in love.

• Doesn't care if anyone sees him. In fact, he'll brag about having cuddled up with someone. You also find he likes playing with your head! Your hair if you're human, finials if you're a bot.

• Cuddles with background music. Loud background music. I hope you can stand ear-bleeding music to cuddle with.

Mega Ambuler

• Surprisingly he's not hesitant about cuddling with you. Who would've thought the Stoic Mega Ambuler would want to be comforted?

• You. That was proven when he quickly sagged down while nuzzling you. Literally all of his tense-ness gone. Will lock you in a tight hug.

• One of the best cuddler there is. He's tangled with you. He might sleep here and there mid cuddle session so don't be disappointed, alright?

Phoenix Fire

• Oh no you didn't invite him to cuddle, he's two steps ahead of you. In fact he's cuddling you already as i speak. Hugging your body close to him while he rambles on about whatever happened today.

• Please listen to him when rambling. I know it's going to be a bit boring sometimes but just listen, alright? You don't even gotta indulge him in a conversation he's happy nonetheless.

• Talks himself to sleep a lot. Might take a while to get used to. Oh and you're not leaving his grasp any time soon. If he sleeps while cuddling you, you sleep too!

Shadow X

• Will tease you about it before cuddling too. Tease him back while he teases you? He's cool. Tease him when he was cuddling you? Nuh uh.

• Would definitely end up laying on top of you. Literally a gremlin, he bites on your arm jokingly. Yet he doesn't have a mouth (He pretends he does).

• Please put effort in cuddling him. Sometimes he feels like a burden to the team, and cuddling usually helps calm his mind. Yes. Cuddle him. Now!!

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hii!!! Sorry I've been inactive

I'll work on your requests but it will take time! Please be patient

Also I'm not feeling too good at the moment.

Idk why but i feel sad about something outside of my control so, yeah

Sorry though, considering that this account is less active than I'd like now

Oof.

[eminemily05]

Ratchet x AFAB Reader—Periods—

Currently, I’m battling some cramps of hell of my own. And I wanted to write a story to make myself feel better. Now that I have, I’m sharing it with you all.

I hope this at least helps some of you feel better. Periods are never fun, but always make sure you take good care of yourselves. Treat yourself to sweets, take a nice warm bath, and just..be kind to yourself.

It may suck, but your body is actively doing what it does best for your health. Even if that means cramps every month…or few months, depending on your situation..

Now, please enjoy this little Drabble I’ve made. And I hope it brings some warmth to your hearts (and cramps, ��)

———————————————————————————

“Ratch…”

Your soft call tore the medic away from his current focus at the main console. Voice wavering and weak…was that hurt he sensed..?

Looking over, he glanced at your small form. Curled up atop the tatted yellow couch, head perked slightly. Your expression was scrunched in one of discomfort and pain. Olfactory sensors flared and flagged a key chemical scent wafting over.

Blood.

Immediately, he abandoned his current project. Taking a few hurried steps to stand behind the raised platform, glancing down at you with worried, appraising optics. You looked back up at him, a pained whine leaving your throat.

You squirmed around, hands pressing down against your abdomen to try and quell the spikes of discomfort. “I-It hurts…”

Scanning you, he gave a soft sigh. Concern flashed through his optics, antenna dropping just slightly. He knew this was a rough time for you.

You had explained to him what it was the first time this had happened. Naturally, it was going to occur in their presence, within the months you’d stay there. So, you figured if anyone needed to understand your predicament with periods, it was Ratchet.

At first, he’d been horrified. Not at you. Gods never. But at the fact that this was so normal. The idea of a Cybertronian bleeding Energon every couple times of a Quartex nearly sent him into shock. Not to mention how painful you had described it to be.

I mean, on par with a human heart attack? For something so small, your species seemed so durable.

But, as the team’s hybrid medic for human and machine, he took it upon himself to learn. Through the web, and you. He learned what he could, and asked for help when he needed more explanations. Now, he felt well equipped.

Ratchet gently set a digit against your lower belly, taking a measure of any inflammation or otherwise unseen pain. He could just hear how painful the cramps sounded.

“Did you take any anti-inflammatory medication? Pain relievers or Acetaminophen?” He glanced at your face as you nodded. Hmm…clearly it hadn’t kicked in yet..

You gripped onto the digit against your lower stomach desperately. “I-I took them some few minutes ago…but I forgot my heating pad at home…” Looking up at his optics, you gave an expression of discomfort.

His spark flared at the sight, audials flicking down as he sighed.

“Of course…” Glancing back at the console, he weighed his options.

He still had piles of work to do. Formulas to refine, tools to repair, files to decode. Then, he looked at you. His human. His pained human, and he didn’t need any other convincing.

Gently, he lifted you in both servos. Whining slightly at the sudden movement as a flare of cramps spiked in your belly. He pulled you against his chassis, engine rumbling gently just under the surface.

“Relax, Sweetspark…I have you..” he mumbled softly, finials clicking up just a notch as you nodded and curled your body against his frame.

Carefully, he made his way to his habsuite. Cautious, as not to rile more cramps in your poor body. His engine gave a worried whine as he glanced at you, body desperately seeking warmth. He crooned at the sigh, optical ridges drawn in concern. “I know…I know..”

Curse your biology for making you suffer like this. He couldn’t even imagine the pain you were dealing with. And it hurt that he couldn’t do much to relieve it.

As he punched the code in for his habsuite, he pressed you to his warm chassis and entered. Metal thumb rubbing soothingly against your hair.

He carried himself over to his berth, settling into the malleable metal that accommodated his back kibble. Gently, he settled you on his chassis. Watching as you squirmed around for a comfortable position.

Eventually, you rested flat on your tummy. Stomach pressed against the warmth radiating from his chassis as soft whines left you. The pain continued to spike as you sought out the heat.

“Ratchet..” You cried desperately, soft hands gripping onto any purchase of his frame you could find. “I-It hurts.!”

His spark flared, plating hissing at your pain. He couldn’t help but feel helpless, useless. Watching his little partner as they wriggled and cried, unable to really do anything.

Curse the gods for bringing this upon them. If he could smite this pain-

Without even thinking, his engine rumbled and revved loudly. The vibration, combined with the rising heat of his cylinders firing, seemed to quell you somewhat. He watched as your little frame untensed a hair, and he needed no more time.

Gently, he set his engine to a low rumble. Idling it quietly and relaxing as the vibrations and warmth slowly settled into your form. Your brow unclenched, a soft sigh of relief escaping as you glanced at him.

He sighed, resting a large servo over your form. The metal acting as the perfect insulation—and bonus weighted blanket— for your body. Steadily, you relaxed and practically melted against his plating.

Yet, he couldn’t help but still feel bad. “I’m sorry…I wish there was more I could do to relieve you of this..” he grumbled, tone full of annoyance but optics full of silent shame. Shame he couldn’t help his own mate.

A gentle kiss against his chassis soothened his thoughts. You looked up at him, eyes lidded with a sense of exhaustion.

Had they taken that much out of you? Curses!

“This is perfect, Ratch.” Your soft smiled cut through the berating thoughts of his spark and pride. “Best heating pad I’ll ever need.”

He chuckled softly as he watched you settle in against the plating. Eyes closing softly as the warmth pulled you closer to sleep.

“Besides…” you mumbled, a happy smile on your face. “Having my big, metal partner to help me makes it feel just a little bit better. Don’t beat yourself up.”

The last part was a bit muffled, as your cheek pressed against his chassis and you were out like a light. Humming, he ran a thumb over your hair. A soft smile graced his faceplate as he watched you subconsciously lean into it. Shutting his own optics in the process for recharge.

“Sleep well, sweetspark…I’ll be here when you awaken..”

[mychlapci]

Hopping on the mommy TFA Ratchet train. (I do hate brat behavior, they deserve punishment. And Optimus deserves to get some of Ratchet's milk too.)

Optimus, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee are the youngest of the team. Sure OP acts older, but he's still much closer to Bulk and Bee's age range than Prowl. Prowl doesn't need the milk like they do, Bulkhead is getting his milk through bottles, but Bee is so damn greedy that Optimus can't get a single drop!

Optimus tries to rationalize it, "I'm a full grown bot, I don't need it", "bee and bulk need it more than me", "we have plenty of other fuel, I'm fine." But he's decidedly not fine. He gets more and more cranky, fuel tastes weird now, like something is off, he watches as Bee nurses with jealousy in his optics.

Bee is throwing a full blown temper tantrum about Ratchet preping bottles for the others when Optimus walks in. He then goes off on him instead, goading and rubbing in his face that Ratchet's milk is his and his alone. He only stops once Ratchet orders him to. That snaps Bee out of it real quick. He turns back to Optimus expecting to be scolded for talking to his leader like that only for him to feel even worse by seeing that Optimus is at the brink of tears. It wasn't just Bee's tantrum or words that caused it, his behavior triggered the reminder of how Sentinel would treat Optimus. Being selfish, arrogant, gloating about things he has and Optimus doesn't. He never expected his own teammates to act like that, especially since they know how Sentinel affects him. He walks away without a word and Bee meekly turns back around to look at Ratchet. He sits serenely on the table patting his lap, his chest plates are closed, and his field betrays the fury that his face does not.

Bee gets the punishment of a lifetime, only a little lessened if only because of the genuine regret he felt and his compliance.

Bee limps to Optimus' room an hour or so later. He's just about to knock when he hears a very harsh rumble of a powerful engine and the whine of vents from strain. He peeks inside only to see Optimus laying on his side, nearly motionless save for the tremors his engine causes, and his finials clicked back to the farthest setting. Bee realizes the strain in his vents is from him staying quiet. Their fearless leader... is crying! Bee feels guilt hit him harder than any of Ratchet's spanks, he really did screw up huh? Was he really that selfish? Taking a few minutes to steel himself, he opens the door and knocks quietly. The engine stalls quickly.

"Yes?" Primus, even Optimus' voice sounds bad.

"Ratchet wants to see you in the med-bay, Bossbot." Bee says, clearly and enunciated, but still meek and quiet.

A loud angry growl came from Optimus, and the distinct click of his battle mask engaging. He turns his helm to look at Bee, but a moment later the growl shifts to a slightly softer, more agitated than angry, pitch. "Very well, I'll be there in a few minutes. You are dismissed."

Bee only nods and absconds quickly, running off to find Bulkhead and Sari. He knows Optimus doesn't want to hear an apology right now, but they deserve one.

Optimus arrives at the med-bay 20 minutes later, after having cleaned himself up first. Ratchet has finished preping the bottles and turns to greet him.

"There you are, come here."

Optimus approaches slowly, "I'm sorry about earlier, I should have just-"

"No, don't apologize. I already handled it. I told Bee to go get you and send you to me, if anything he should be apologizing to you."

"I'm fine, Ratchet, it's really not a big deal-"

"Oh really?" He puts his hands on his hips, "not a big deal, ey? Not a big deal that you were driven to the point of tears by a toddler of a mech? Not a big deal that I've seen that look on your face when a certain Chin-the-size-of-his-ego Prime belittles you? I made sure to point that particular comparison out to Bee during his punishment, especially considering his own hatred of the mech. Really took him down a couple pegs."

"Ratchet, I'm a grown mech and there's plenty of fuel around, I can deal without-"

"What? My milk? The milk that you are so painfully craving and jealous of Bumblebee and Bulkhead over? They are grown mechs too, but the three of you are still young and growing. You're also far closer in age to each other than you are to me or Prowl. Hell, Prowl doesn't even need my milk and he's gotten more of it than you! You! Someone who actually needs it!"

Ratchet turned around and sat on the berth, "now come here, Prime," he opens his chest plates and lets his still leaky titties out. Optimus practically starts drooling. "You need this as much as the others do."

Optimus hesitantly crawls into Ratchets lap, "are you sure? I- I can have-?"

"Oh shuddup and suck."

Optimus is forcefully fed Ratchet's nossle, plush lips wrapped around it carefully as he sucked. But soon he began to relax, until his whole frame sagged against Ratchet's, greedily sucking down the milk he craved for weeks now. His engine idled at a soft and smooth purr.

"That's it, bittie, take as much as you need, you've been so sorely neglected recently, after all. Momma's gonna take good care of you."

my wet nurse propaganda is only furthered by this. young bots need their milk, there’s no helping it, it’s why Ratchet was sent with the repair crew in the first place. Optimus pretending he doesn’t need the milk is just foolish… He might be older than Bumblebee or Bulkhead, but he’s still well within the breastfeeding range… 

This is the only time Bumblebee can use his young age to his advantage, insisting that as the youngest he can drink as much milk as he wants to, and he absolutely abuses the hell out of this fact. Ratchet doesn’t actually care at first, he’s just doing his job and if Bee wants to be pushy, he can ignore it... but then... Poor Optimus… it’s all a little too much. Stuck on a foreign planet, saddled with responsibility, and not getting any milk at all? He’s really putting himself through it. He needs some care from momma...

[crying-fantasies]

Forced growth

Masterlist

The first days of the what you called "undercover war", way before the Machination took Sunstreaker and way before Sideswipe was foolish enough to drag you around, at least when it wasn't so obvious, your interest showed for the first time.

It was a bittersweet memory data.

Sunstreaker still did double takes on whatever the organic his brother got to the ark was doing, the little thing looking horrified, mortified and unexpectedly interested, almost limiting with disgust, at how Ratchet was trying to reattach Cliffjumper's arm strut back where it was supposed to go with a burn down socket doing it harder than it really was.

Maybe you were a little weirder compared to the rest, weren't humans supposed to always go in herds? Packs? Not really his interest, all he wanted was for Ratchet to fix some damage and stop the leaking line on Sideswipe's servo, some fabric that you called "hoodie" on it and doing some work to stop it for the time being.

Sideswipe was smiling by the way you were perched on his shoulder, holding on his audial receptor to have a better sight, even when it was sensitive and you were crass enough to compare it to something called "horn", you even had the gall to say the same about Sunstreaker's finials.

You were bound to embarrass yourself if Sideswipe always let you talk like that.

Ratchet and Cliff noticed you, the older just rising an optic ridge, looking at your organic fabric on Sideswipe's wound, and the second, being a nuisance as always, greeted you with his good arm, Sunstreaker felt embarrassment in your place, making you return to Sides' servo, "okay, enough", you touched him while going back down, but at that time Sunstreaker only did a grunted a little before using a cleaning pad.

Next cycle, the brothers found you in the medbay, Ratchet had given you the littlest medical tool they had ever seen and it was being used, albeit slow and clumsily, on the very same Optimus Prime to get dirt out of his exposed wound, even with his battle mask on it was obvious he had the smile and patience to stay put to let you play medic even when two other bots were keeping an optic over whatever you could do.

Sunstreaker believed they were being paranoid, how something so little like you would do harm to Prime, to Prime! It was laughable, as if a crossed wire there could make his spark stop or something.

Sideswipe only looked with a smile, giving you a double thumbs up as you looked back at them with a bewildered expression, not believing what was happening yourself.

At that time, humans weren't so bad, Sideswipe acted like you were the novelty of the century and played his own version of hide-and-seek with your things before acting innocent, Sunstreaker treated you like some people do to a stray cat coming for food and protection against the outside weather, begrudgingly accepting your intrusion while giving you crumbs of attention.

It was before Sides started to see you in other way, it was before Sunny went down and dragged himself back up, he started to chase you away and no one wanted to tell you why.

In the middle of what you called with an explosive voice and scared face as everyone-knows-of-giant-metallic-aliens time, you had lost some of that twinkle little spark on your watery little optics, Sides noticed, little by little, how you kind of gotten more familiar with the whole deal when before you would be running back to him, only really spending time inside the Ark, it was a surprise when, after Sunstreaker was... gone, you went to him, more, now, even on the field, once, and then from then on, with that little first aid emergency kit like a backpack, and then it was not only him but whoever bot that had even the littlest scratch.

You followed him in the wild of your planet, you started to learn more, you started to fear for them more, when you got injured for the first time your finger was cut by a sharp platting end of his after a chase, "it's nothing" you said, "it'll heal" you swore, and while the little cut from where your red living fluid leaked did indeed weld and only left something similar to a flat scratch there was this, this innegable something that really felt like you weren't the same, but Sideswipe believed in you, if you said it was okay then it was okay, when the second and then the third rolled up and you said the same then he found it harder to believe when you first burned yourself with energon, saying you were fine as your finest outer layer started to burn and fall.

Sideswipe would remember forever when all you did was do and repeat, use your welding gadget right, use your little laser right, cut where it was needed and keep what was necessary, before everyone could grasp on it there was a blaster recharge unit hanging from your hip just in case someone ran out of munitions, and while some encouraged your foresight it gave him the creeps.

"Hey", Sideswipe called once, looking how you went from one to two, "Leave these guys care for themselves"

If Sunstreaker was there at the moment, Sides was sure you would have listen to him, but now you only took a blaster bigger than your whole body and recharged it yourself, "if I can help" you left the rest to the open, and Sideswipe didn't believe you doing such a mundane thing would do things to him, rendering him to a low "okay" before sending a heavy unspoken warning to whoever else catched sight of your newfound charm.

He was sure something changed in you, it felt familiar, and he commented it to Ratchet who, in reality, also sensed something was off.

What Sideswipe didn't know was that you would go back to your shared habsuit that same day, saline tears flowing and cortisol levels above what he learned were good for a human, his recharge protocols interrupted as you seemed totally destroyed, holding onto your medical kit with scarred little hands.

He had never heard so many bad words, enough to make him cover his own mouth in bashfulness, he had never seen that rage in you, before, and yeah, he admitted part of the words said in your meltdown were poorly talked and hard bitten kaonian that he may have said in front of you before, nevermind, you needed a helping hand, and he did so

When Sideswipe took the decision to leave you, "for a while, it isn't for forever, like, forever forever", he talked to your exhausted and sleeping body, again feeling something was really bad with you when before you could freak out at the sight or sound of his blaster, every click of the thing awakening you like a damn alarm, watching you recharge in peace for once made him smile sadly, so exhausted, so fragile, putting up a step to make you seem bigger than what you really were.

"Idealization", Ratchet called it, "I'm no psychiatrist, but human books lead to it, not exactly at someone, more likely a idealization of protection".

Of course, you wouldn't be left intact after being exposed to planetary war, no one is, and thinking that the bots would take care of you in the little time he was away, because they better do so, Sideswipe took his blaster and exited his own habsuit.

He didn't believe it at first, finding Sunstreaker, finding Earth as a traitor in the war, and finding out everyone was taken by the human authorities, his brother seems sad about it, murmuring "I'm sorry" as he can only watch with a heavy spark how they're denied asylum and now the decepticons have free way in the planet.

Prime may say what he wants to say, but not all humans are remediable, not all of them are good, just because they are squishy, vulnerable or whatever, Sideswipe just had to see Jazz, Jazz of all bots, he swears, for Primus sake! Be hunted down by the very same humans, see all the humans they helped, the ones that mattered the most in his, everyone's opinion, be dragged down by a supposed law implicating global treason and having the nagging voice of Ultra Magnus saying to let them be, humans have their own codes and whatever, because he didn't leak energon next to the fleshies' blood in the time they were trapped on Earth, having to leave the planet by force, not welcomed anymore, as all you say for Sideswipe is to get away before they catched him too with those things, because you're human, it may end fast, but they would take their time with him, it was one of the hardest things, walk away from their little comrades, not knowing if they will survive their own people that only waited to shred them to pieces for whatever information.

War ends, Cliff and Sideswipe end their little plan to get the humans out by force, Prime asked for amnesty, is denied, Sideswipe chooses to retake his plan, his poorly structured plan, Arcee suggested to kill the flesh bags but Sides isn't sure she won't kill you all by mistake, she still had problems differentiating one human from the other, old bot programming, you get out, and he didn't have to be a psychiatrist to realize the approaching madness that came with it as your little eyes don't have even shreds of innocence.

For once since the first time he offered his servo for you to hop on, Sideswipe seems unsure, he is happy to see you, there is no denying of it, he feels at ease when his scanner show no sings of physical abuse, but he is flabbergasted at the amount of cortisol exuding from your little body, reaching his sensors even when he is far from being a medical frame, he calls your name, digit giving a gentle touch to your cheek, "hey", he calls out to you, "you were so brave".

He isn't sure what was it, the way he talked to you or the soft touch, but for a fleeting moment the precious light returned, Sideswipe hated to see you cry but in that moment he was close to leak from the optics too when you hug his digit tight, Sideswipe lets you hold him, as a way to assure you he was real, he wasn't going away in a very long time, he wanted to hold you too, stopping short just realizing the scars again and the way you recoiled, it hurt, of it did, so he stopped, settling for let you welcome him again in your life in the most comfortable way of your election.

[fab-bladesmith]

A Schlachtschwert, early XVIth century.

Spring steel blade of flat hexagonal section for most its length, mild steel fittings with hollow brass ball finials on the cross. Leather over thread over wooden core for the grip, and leather over wood for the sleeve (more about that below). This is a tentative reconstruction of what a "proper" Landsknecht Greatsword could look like, such a they appear on period artwork, be it paintings like the Siege of Alesia by Melchior Feselen (1533) or the Battle of Pavia kept at the Royal Armouries (or the tapestries depicting that same battle, now at the Museo Capodimonte, made after sketches by Bernard van Orley), the Victory of Charlemagne over the Avars near Regensburg by Albrecht Altdorfer (1518), or the many drawings, prints and woodcuts by artists such as Reinhart von Solms, Jörg Breu, the great Hans Burgkmair, Niklas Stör, Hans Holbein (both Elder and Younger), Virgil Solis, Hans Sebald Beham, the legendary Urs Graf, Daniel Hopfer, Erhard Schön, Hans Schäufelein and others...All of them combined to give this result.

Such swords would be seen not only in the hands of a Doppelsoldner, but also carried by your Feldwaybel or an Edelman. And it would be called a Schlachtschwert in the very captions of the illustrations I mentioned earlier (see Erhard Schön). *Not* a "two-handed Katzbalger", though the cross obviously echoes the S/8-shaped guard of the latter. We clear on that ? Good.

Very few of such swords are kept in museums out there, with a lot of them leaving me dubious regarding their authenticity. The one in Berlin seems to me to be the most genuine of all, and it is on its proportions that I based this piece, though the Berlin sword shows a fancy, diamond-pattern decoration on the quillions very much recalling the Katzbalger kept in the Museum of London. Most if not all period illustration do not show such fancy details on the crossguards though ; they are actually rather plain, without even the ribbing/threading/filework you can find on Katzbalger crosses. Hence I kept this one rather plain, with a square cross section with rounded corners, and some light filework at the center. I also bent the quillions into an offset 8-shape rather than a symmetrical one, to be more consistant with the earlier examples visible in period artwork.

The main questioning was that sleeve at the base of the blade, present on a lot of the period artwork; its obvious function was to provide a spot on which to put the other hand - as can be deduced from Marozzo's teachings for fighting against polearms - but the main issue was how was it made/what was it made of. Elaborating on my previous experience and studies of such things on later Schlachtschwerter, I went for a basic construction of leather glued/stitched over a wood core made of two flat slabs, and force-slid down the blade. There is more than enough friction to keep it well in place, but it is still possible to take it off albeit with some effort. The end of the leather is cut according to period artwork, and flares out to accommodate the mouth of a scabbard if needed. A simple decoration of plain lines on one side, and checkered on the other makes it also consistant with the artwork.

It is 139 cm long, the blade is 1083 mm long, 45 mm wide with a thickness of about 7 mm at its base, tapering down to 3.4 mm near the point. The span of the crossguard is about 21 cm, though from one ball end to the other there's about 73 cm of steel. Weight is 2547 grams, point of balance 13.5 cm from the cross.

Twenty-eight hundred EuroUnits and it's yours.

[cozzzynook]

Rodimus losing the battle against his carrier instincts as the minis use it against him. They want to get up to a little mischief, and their other friends probably won't help, so they have to go for their laidback captain who has a soft spot for them that he desperately tries to hide! They use classic manipulation tactics on him, and it's not until after they walk off does Rodimus realize "wait a klik..."

And yet he still finds himself arguing against Ultra Magnus and Megatron with three not-so-guilty minibots hiding behind him.

Whirl is blatantly snickering, Cyclonus and Chromedome are at least trying to hide their amusement. How kind, Rodimus almost can't tell, he just needs to ignore their field.

All the while he's just wondering what his life has come to. At least they got a new minibot onboard who hasn't caused trouble yet, but that's probably because they're heavily traumatized and haven't received help yet because their piece of shit sire left them out- Megatron, stop looking at him like that.

Ooh stop! Because now i’m having thoughts of

- Megatron being like the sire to the sparkling on accident because yeah he’s huge and scary but he took off his helmet so the mini he mistook for a child would feel calm after being so overwhelmed.

- the mini woke up in the medbay and Rodimus wasn’t beside them since he had to take care of the paperwork and get the ship ready for launch.

- the mini has seen Megatron as a sort of sire ever since watching his finials flicker and wave. The mini is so entranced with the finial colors and how they flicker and dim they reach out to try and touch them. And oh boy does that almost make Megatron cry since he’s never let a soul besides his creators touch his helm finials.

- megatron is sitting locked away in his room shaking trying not to cry with the mini swallowed up in his arms, all comfortable when Rodimus finds them and takes an image capture. Or 17.

- Rodimus is the type to let the carriers off with their shenanigans but Megatron does not. Stern, simple punishments that get the point across are given but when it comes to the mini they basically adopt and co-creator, they both just melt since the bitty is so sweet and never does any wrong.

- you can find the bitty looking small in the crook of Megatrons arm or attached to Rodimus’s hip like a sparkling.

- every decepticon knew Megatron had a soft spark for sparklings so it wasn’t a surprise but no one knew Rodimus was a carrier or had a soft spark in general for new sparks.

- drift is extremely shocked the very first time he sees Rodimus being a creator for the mini that didn’t even have a designation!

- Rodimus was so focused on taking care of the mini he didn’t stop to think how odd it must seem to others or that he exposed himself as a carrier.

- Rodimus definitely lives up to his status when they see him easily command ship or do paperwork with the mini laying in his arm recharging while he works with his only free servo.

- Drift is not expecting to see this or Rodimus with a mini on his hip that looks happy to be there! The others minis will literally climb onto Rodimus and sit on his shoulders and he lets them! Rodimus doesn’t mind and they know this but its still so odd for Drift to see his carefree amica be so responsible and do a complete 180 while still being his regular self!

- Tailgate sits on Rodimus lap with the traumatized mini and has the easiest time getting the mini to relax besides Rodimus and Megatron.

- its an observation for Cyclonus but a teasing joke Whirl makes. The traumatized mini looks exactly like a mix of Megatron and Rodimus. They have a spoiler and helm like Rodimus with red optics like Megatron along with Megatrons color plating.

- whirl doesn’t make too many jokes about the mini anymore. Not after he made a particularly poor tasted joke about the mini’s sire trying to offline them and their carrier letting it happen. The crew forgets how violent Rodimus can be and how hard he can hit. Their captain is often so happy go-lucky around them being immature, that they forgot he was one of high command for a reason.

- Whirl is in the medbay for a fee weeks after Rodimus finished with him—when they could successfully pull him off— the mech gives a short apology to the traumatized mini and the medical staff don’t have to worry about Rodimus coming in to finish the job.

-every bot gets a valuable lesson only the oldest bots among the ship were able to witness before the war.

Never mess with a carriers sparkling.

- Rodimus spends days in his hab with the mini right alongside Megatron who takes shorter shifts and spends most of his time with the two. They don’t even notice how close they’ve become while taking care of the mini.

- its not until the mini asks them to name them do they realize they’ve become co-creators.

- panic ensues.

- panic between the two of them. Both physically and verbally.

- their mini creation just sits back and watches it unfold and when they try to say something, the response from Megatron and Rodimus is a simultaneous—

“Not now Nebulas.”

“Nebulas? My designation… is Nebulas?”

They..didn’t plan on that. Don’t even know how they said the same name at the same time or where it came from. Rodimus assumes its their love of freedom that the stars give them and Megatron thinks its the hope spaces endless possibilities grant them.

- in the end they calm down and celebrate their mini’s designation while trying not to blush at each other

[sw5w]

Jedi Acrobatics

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:24:40

[bumblebee-is-best-boi]

I finally finished the OptiRatch oneshot

Its a little short, but wonderful

Here it is

vvvvvv

Dont Go.

The footsteps echoing throughout the medbay caught Ratchet’s attention, making his antenna and finials quiver for a slight second from the vibrations before settling. These were not the scampering footsteps of minibots, nor was it like any of the racer Autobots; these were the footsteps of someone big. Setting down his datapad, he turned around from his desk to look at who entered the medbay. Hopefully it wasn't some dumbaft who blew themselves up playing around with weapons, he had no patience for such patients anymore today… they kept giving him a helmache…

No… it wasn't even a patient at all. It was Optimus Prime… his lovely conjunx. His lovely, sweet, and elegant conjunx, his forever sweetspark, his everything… Ratchet couldn’t help but soften his gaze at the Prime. The sun was at just the right angle that made Optimus’s frame shimmer brightly in the rays of the sun. He was glowing, as if Primus was shining his divine light on him. Ratchet stared longingly at his conjunx’s frame before gaining his composure and professionalism, standing up straight and looking into Optimus’s optics.

Now wasn't the time to look at his conjunx like… that. There was work to be done… they could do anything they wanted in their quarters later when he was off his shift…

“Good morning Optimus.” Ratchet said before looking around and looking up at Optimus, slight fear dawning in his optics.

Their sparklings were nowhere to be seen!

“Where are Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Smokescreen, Mirage, and Rodimus? Are they somewhere nearby? Are they anywhere in the base at all? Please don't tell me they went out scouting without telling anyone again…”

A hidden panic bubbled up in his spark. What if someone hurt them? What if they accidentally hurt themselves? What if the Decepticons kidnapped them? What if-

What if they were dead again?

Optimus noticed how scared Ratchet seemed and smiled, putting a stop to Ratchet’s worries, “They’re out racing. After the whole…” Optimus’s smile faltered, almost fading away, at this, but he composed himself and continued, “situation… they haven’t really been leaving each other’s sides. I think I saw Smokescreen clinging to Rodimus before they left with the others to race. I don't think Smokescreen will be letting go of any of them any time soon. I don't even think we can separate any of them from each other any time soon…”

“Understandable.” Ratchet sighed, averting his optics from the Prime’s gaze.

He also felt the same way. His conjunx and all of his sparklings except for one… had all died due to some battle that went way differently than everyone had expected… one that went from a simple battle… to an utter bloodbath… Thank Primus for bringing them back to life. This was probably one of the only times he prayed for Primus… he was lucky enough that his prayers were answered and he got his conjunx and sparklings back. But Ratchet couldn’t help but feel scared. What if all of a sudden, he would lose them again? His audial fins lowered at the thought… it had haunted him for solar cycles, stolen countless sessions of recharges from him… and brought him back to as horrible as he felt at the height of the war.

All of a sudden Ratchet realized that Optimus was still staring at him… how long had he been standing there now? Ratchet had completely lost track of time.

“Is something wrong, Ratchet? You seem… sad. Very sad, dear conjunx.” Optimus looked at Ratchet with a concerned expression on his faceplate.

Ratchet paused, then shook his head, “No… I’m fine. I'm really fine. Dont worry about me, I'll be okay. I promise, sweetspark.”

Ratchet knew it was horrible to be pushing Optimus away like this again, but he didn’t want to bother Optimus with his worries anymore. Optimus had too much on his plate already… being revived from the well of allsparks isn't fun, and Ratchet felt like he would just be a burden… which he hated. 

Of course, Ratchet knew that Optimus would notice that he wasn’t saying the truth, and Ratchet hoped that this time, Optimus would let it slide, and not make a big discussion out of it. They were both still dealing with the whole… death situation, and no matter how much they tried to avoid talking about it, it lingered over them like a shadow, waiting for its time to strike.

Not wanting to deal with it right now, Ratchet turned his focus back onto his datapads, hoping that the tenseness would dissipate. But when he heard Optimus leaving, he couldn’t help but say, in a voice that betrayed a great sadness:

“… Stay. Don’t go. Please.”

Optimus stopped and turned around to look at Ratchet, a concerned look forming on his faceplate. After a while of staying still, he eventually started walking back towards Ratchet. Wrapping his servos around his conjunx’s frame, he held Ratchet in a loving embrace, never wanting to let go.

“I won't. I’ll stay right with you, my sweetspark.”

“Please. I don't want to lose you again.”

“Don't worry, I don't plan on ever leaving, my dear dear conjunx.”

They stayed in their embrace for many moments, not wanting to let the other go… 

After a while, Optimus spoke up, breaking the silence: “Ratchet, I guess it's best for you to stop working, come along, have some energon, and spend some time with me… just for a couple of joors, okay?”

Ratchet looked up at Optimus. At this angle, Optimus’s optics looked like wonderfully polished sapphires; optics that could tell millions of years worth of stories, ones that were burdened with troubles, and yet so peaceful… What a wonderful sight.

But wait! He still had work to do… Ratchet looked at his desk, where the datapad was laying…

Frag it.

He went with Optimus.

..............................................................................................................................

@optimusprime-stuffs, @ultra-phthalo here ya go! (I forgot if you guys wanted to be tagged or not sorry T>T)

[tikkunolamresistance]

DescriptionTorah finials decorate the top of Torah scrolls, their bells making festive sounds when they are carried around the synagogue. Their Hebrew name "Rimonim' means pomegranates, because of the round shape recalling the biblical symbolic fruit This splendid pair, on loan from Congregation Shearith Israel in New York (est. 1654), is an exceptionally rare example of colonial American Judaica. They were made by Myer Myers, a Jewish silversmith who led the market in 18th-century New York. Myers’ busy workshop produced luxury silverware for both domestic and religious use for its Jewish and non-Jewish clients. These finials hold a very special place in Jewish American history: they were used by the two earliest communities in the country, founded by Sephardic (Spanish and Portuguese) Jews in New York and Newport. They were in fact most probably in the Newport synagogue during George Washington’s famous visit on August 18th, 1790. Today the New York congregation uses the beautiful Rimonim during the High Holidays.

[valvesandthings]

hi! I don't know if tumblr ate my ask i sent a month ago but could I request a nsfw oneshot of TFP Shockwave X Female!reader with her eating out his valve or just dominating him somehow? there's not nearly enough switch shockwave content in this world :")

Yeah, I don't have any other requests like this one. Sorry for the wait!

Shockwave still wasn’t sure if he should have agreed to this. What did “switching things up” really even mean? You had been kissing all over Shockwave’s helm and on his chassis when you whispered that in his audial. And then you were pushing lightly on his chest, but with enough force to urge him to lay back. He relented and stared up at the ceiling as you traveled down his frame to his hips, easing back enough to gently spread his legs. 

“What are you doing?” Shockwave asked, trying to hide the uncertainty in his voice. Usually he took the lead. It should be him spreading you open, coaxing his digits into you, preparing your body to take him. But you were licking and sucking the insides of his thighs, making your way towards his exposed array. 

You paused and looked up to him. “Do you want me to stop?”

He thought for a moment, considering how close you were to his fluttering valve. He sighed and let his helm fall back. “No,” he admitted. “Please, continue.”

“Beg me and I might,” you said. 

Shockwave lifted his helm and stared at you. Suddenly he could not find his voice. His spike twitched. And his finials heated up. “I won’t,” he stated, but it came out light and wispy. 

You tilted your head and pecked a kiss to the tip of his spike, tasting prefluid. “You will, or I won’t eat your pretty little valve out. Only good mechs deserve that.”

He battled within himself for a long while, until he realized that he had never been kissed where you intended to kiss him. No one had ever deigned to deliver him pleasure there, they only took. “Please,” he muttered. 

“Louder, baby,” you commanded. 

“Please!” Shockwave cried. 

You pet his leg. “Good boy.”

He had no time to feel the shame that usually came with being praised, because you dipped your helm down and lapped at his valve. You ate his valve like it was some precious fruit, twisting your glossa inside him and working your lips over the outside, mouthing over his node and holding his quaking thighs apart with your strong grip. 

Shockwave jerked in your hold, impulsively crying out your name. But something else slipped loose; a desperate, whining, “Please!” as he overloaded under your tongue.

[postapocalyptic-cryptic]

Uhhhhh 42 and Starscream perhaps?

42 on last year's spotify wrapped is "Shaving My Legs" by Sorry Mom!

I wanted to taste what you do that keeps you on me

After dinner, Wheeljack walks Starscream to his door. Not just the door of his complex, but the actual door to his apartment, so really, he can be forgiven for assuming.

Wheeljack makes a startled little noise when he leans close, and instead of opening his battle mask, he jumps back. “Oh! Uh, oh?”

Starscream cycles his optics. “What are you doing?”

“Um….”

“Don’t you want to kiss me?”

Wheeljack’s finials go bright pink. “Well, uh, I mean, eventually?” he sputters. “Yes? But not, I mean, not right now?

Starscream frowns. “Why not?” Wheeljack is still backed up against the wall, he realizes, so he steps back. He wonders if he’s made some misstep somewhere.

“I mean, it’s kind of soon, isn’t it? We just had our first, you know, our first date.”

“Yes.” He raises an eyebrow. “You walked me to my door.”

Understanding dawns across Wheeljack’s face. “Oh! Oh, uh. Yeah, I did. But I didn’t mean, you know.”

“You didn’t mean to interface with me tonight,” he says flatly.

“Uh, no.” Wheeljack is wringing his hands, and he wonders if all Autobots are such prudes, or if it’s just Wheeljack. “Sorry?”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I’m confused.”

So am I. In all honesty, the vast majority of Starscream’s romantic endeavors had centered around interfacing, and he’s not quite sure how to proceed without it. “So this is where we say goodbye?”

“I think so?” Wheeljack looks away. “Starscream, oh man, I’m really sorry—”

Starscream swipes a hand through the air between them. “Nothing to apologize for. A misunderstanding.”

“I know, but this is so awkward, and you’re so, you know.”

He doesn’t know, but he lets it go in favor of putting Wheeljack out of this social misery. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Wheeljack’s optics snap back to him. “Yeah! Yeah, of course. See you then, then?”

“See you then.” As Wheeljack walks away, he calls out, “And Wheeljack?”

He stops, turns. “Yeah?”

“I’d love to do this again next week.”