#not even the younglings survived

[maulfucker]

thinking about all my au ideas where no one dies. thinking what if when shmi is "kidnapped" by the tuskens it's actually not for hostile reasons at all, but because she got hit by a stray bullet from a misfire and they took her to try to heal her. but tuskens aren't near-humans, so their medicine doesn't work very well on humans. when anakin finds shmi she is still near death, but it's clear that was not the tuskens' intention. he takes her home, and gains a new perspective about the "savages" he had always disdained.

[hyperprosexia]

cw: 18+ | omegaverse; dub-con; gn!reader; poly!alpha!141

captain price, who believes he's found the perfect addition for his trusted pack of alphas on his forced leave.

it isn't his fault, though. he wasn't trying to find an omega for himself nor his men; he certainly doesn't mean to go prowling after you through downtown once he catches a whiff of your enticing saccharine scent unmated and ripe, and so ready to be plucked and shaped into the perfect little mate for himself and his pack.

his wolf is howling and snarling inside his chest, and it's something he hasn't experienced since he was but a youngling fresh out of officer training, still brimming with testosterone and eager to spend his ruts with even more eager omegas back then.

however, price knows that he did actually find the perfect match, when he finally pounces, cornering you in a crowded coffee shop until you're blinking up at him with sparkling doe-eyes, nose twitching as you sniff his scent discreetly, clutching your sweet hibiscus tea between soft hands.

curious yet timid. hand-tame. uncollared.

the alpha in him is as elated by your initial reaction as he's furious about your lack of self-preservation and survival instinct.

"gonna havt'a work on that, princess," he growls into your ear as he mounts you that night, laying his first claim on you; one big paw wrapped around the nape of your neck as he fucks his knot past your sopping entrance.

"can't have ya chat up any other random alpha bloke from now on, ya hear? you're under my protection now, love."

you're whimpering and whining as you nod weakly, pushing your supple hips back to shove his throbbing cock deeper into your quivering channel, desperate to feel him all the way up in your guts or so it seems.

all while the captain's eyes are zeroed in on that taunting, virgin mating gland located on the side of your neck.

his canines itch, his jaw ticks, ready to snap and bite as his mouth fills with saliva that he forces himself to swallow.

claiming you as his mate is inevitable, he just wants his boys to be there when he does.

》 continue

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 06

Kinktober Masterlist coitus more ferarum - "fuck like animals" TF141 x f!reader Kinks > omegaverse, comeflation, hurt-comfort, fuck or die, medical discussions about dicks and puberty Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

An Omegaverse AU. You are a professional, one of the best. As a Guidance Omega, you are happy to lend your (well-paid) skills to any Alpha in need. However, when one of your regular clients asks you to help his friend through his very first rut, you wonder if there are some challenges that are beyond your expertise. 

You were no doctor, but that definitely did not look good. As you stood next to your long-time client, Captain John Price, the Apex Alpha of his pack, you studied his soldier’s condition. It was the man’s first rut, which was very odd indeed, but nothing about this situation was normal. Apparently, he’d been living as a Beta for years, thinking that he had just missed his parents’ genetic code. But, now that he had been exposed to some sort of Konni terrorist drug, his genes had mutated, awakening latent Alphic traits. 

“How old is he?” You asked. 

“Twenty-nine. Too bloody old to be going through a first rut,” Price sighed, crossing his arms over his wide chest, “Mine was painful when I was a lad, and my cock was half the size it was meant to be. To be stretched like this… We’re lookin’ to you, Omega. You ever seen anythin’ like it?”

You shook your head. You hadn’t ever seen this before. When Alphas went through their first puberty as younglings, their genitals swelled, growing three or four times their size, breaking the thin skin they had since their birth and replacing their reproductive system with functioning Alpha hormones and fully equipped physical traits. As they matured further, their genitals would still grow and change with them, but not nearly as much as the first time. The initial switch in puberty could be traumatizing for younglings that went through it in later years rather than earlier. 

“No,” you sighed with him, “If he were younger, we could obviously opt for the surgery, but this is his mature skin. It’s not the membrane. All those years as a Beta, and now for him to be going through this… The pain must be unbearable. Perhaps… no, no. I don’t think that’s possible.”

“What?” Johnny’s Alpha, Simon Riley, interrupted your thought, insisting, “Tell us. We’ll do anything. We need him to survive this.”

Any other time, you would say that this was a gross overreaction, but in this case, their new Alpha friend may lose his life if he failed to make the change. If his skin cut and bled, if his hormones failed to take over in his Alphic glands, he might not live to even have a rut at all. 

“And you’ve tried the warm baths? The ones with the numbing oil I sent you?” You clarified, wondering how he was responding to other treatments.

“Every four hours. They help him get through a few hours of sleep at night, but it’s not sustainable. He can’t even wear clothes for fuck’s sake,” Gaz, an old friend of yours who had known you before your work as a Guardian Omega, spoke up. He was curt, obviously stressed about his friend. 

You walked over to Johnny’s bedside and held his hand, 

“Hey, Johnny. I’m the Guardian Omega John told you about. I’m here to help you, okay?”

He writhed, sweat beading over his brow, and he glowered down at his naked body, fiercely glaring at his red, swollen prick,

“Serves me right for all the bloody wishin’ I did as a laddie for havin’ a bigger knob, aye?”

The fact that he managed a slight smile and a wry joke, even if it was said through clenched teeth, immediately won you over. This man was exactly your type; brave, funny, and built like a beast. You didn’t know if you could help him, but you wanted to try. 

“Johnny, we have to let your dick stretch to its true size. If it stays trapped behind your foreskin and the outer epidermis of your sheath, you could have internal bleeding, or worse.”

“I didnae ken the word epidermis could turn me on, bonnie, but the way you say it… proves me wrong.”

His soft blue eyes finally met yours, and you could tell he was just putting on a courageous face. He knew he was in trouble, and he was probably in more pain than you previously suspected. 

“What was your idea?” Simon pressed, coming to stand next to Johnny’s bedside, staring at you with some urgency. 

You looked down at Johnny, rubbing the back of his hand with your fingers, feeling the ridges of his knuckles,

“I could keep you in me. We could… soak the skin in the Omegan oils. It would be…” 

You stopped talking. It was ridiculous. And based on the look on all of the men’s faces, they couldn’t believe you were even suggesting it.

“You cannae do it, lass. It’d throw you into a wee heat, and I’m in no state to help you. Ah! Shite,” Johnny gasped, wincing in pain as his cock throbbed, obviously eager to be a part of a heat, hypothetical or not. 

“I’ll stay, love. You’re gonna need some help gettin’ yourself to that state and keepin’ it that way,” Price volunteered. 

“I can’t ask you to do that, John. You’d be in just as much pain as Johnny by the end of the heat.”

“Aye, but I’d be alive, and if it works, so would he.”

John was stubborn. But, he was right. If you were going to try to soak Johnny’s aching cock in you for hours, you needed to prepare. Gaz could see the gears turning in your head,

“You’re gonna need us in shifts, and you know it. This is gonna take a fuckin’ village.”

And so it did. You had John bring in supplies – food, hydration, lube, and every comfort item you could imagine needing – and you got to work. The first step was getting Johnny settled inside of you so that you could allow his skin to soften in the oils from your glands. But, you couldn’t produce those on your own. You needed to be worked up to it by an Alpha, preferably one who knew how to get your body to come hard and quick. Wash, rinse, and repeat. 

You wouldn’t be able to get any pleasure from Johnny’s straining cock while he was inside of you. Thrusting would be beyond painful for him, and it would be dangerous to his system. You would need to cockwarm him, and John and his men would need to make you come without fucking you. The only problem was, if you were made to stay in that deep, orgasmic state for long enough, your body would toss you into a heat, and that’s when the real fun would begin. 

In your heat, you would expose all of the Alphas in the room to your pheromones. They would rut, and they wouldn’t be able to rut into your cunt with it occupied, as it were. They had to endure the cycle without your soothing oils, sacrificing their own comfort so that you could help Johnny’s foreskin and swollen tissue endure the change. 

You thought it might work. It was the best idea you had, but the problem was staring you right in the face: Alphas in a rut physically needed to fuck for it to stop. If – and it was a big if – your plan worked for Soap and you could coax his prick to form a knot, you would then need to service the other three. They might fight each other to be first in line, they might hurt you. It was so risky, but it was a risk you were all willing to take in order for Johnny to get better. 

“Johnny,” you woke him from the nap he was taking while you were all gathering supplies, “We’re ready.”

“Mm,” he groaned, his eyes wrenched shut from the pain, “Alright, bonnie. I’m ready for you.”

“This will be the worst of it, I think. And,” you made sure he was looking into your face, “It will be very, very painful.”

He nodded,

“I ken it, lass. Dinnae fash yourself. Needs doin’, and I know you… Angh! Fuck,” he hissed, grabbing your hand tighter when a pang struck him, “You’ll be there for me.” 

“I will, Johnny. I won’t leave you. This is gonna work,” you leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, trying to be respectful of Simon’s claim, even if it was now – at least hormonally – invalid.

You stood on the bed, straddling his hips, and Simon and Gaz were there to help lower you into position. You wanted to be able to settle your hole on him as carefully as possible. No sudden movements. 

You poured copious amounts of lube down his shaft and used your fingers to spread it around the outside and inside of your entrance. You wanted him to feel as little resistance as possible. This was about comfort, not pleasure. 

“Alright, slow as you can,” you instructed, letting the two giants by your side lower you down into position. 

The moment your skin made contact with Johnny’s ruddy cockhead, he screamed out in agony,

“Creepin’ Jesus! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

“Hold him, John!” You called out to their captain for help. If Johnny jerked forward, he could rip his flesh and cause permanent damage. 

Price’s huge hands pinned his friend to the bed, and you could see tears streaming down Johnny’s cheeks. You wished you could take his pain away, but stopping now meant giving up on him, and you weren’t going to let it come to that. 

Another inch and you had half of his pulsing head inside of you. It was smooth and easy for you to take with all the lube, but if you hadn’t prepped yourself, Johnny’s giant phallus would be a challenge. If he lived, he would be quite a formidable Alpha. You couldn’t let him down. 

“A little further, Gaz,” you said in a low voice, not wanting to scare Johnny of more pain. 

Another inch and the crown popped into you, sealing itself within your warm, wet body. 

Johnny cried out, shouting for mercy, begging for them to just let him die. 

“You can’t fuckin’ die, Johnny,” Simon said, trying to comfort his mate, “C’mon, love. You can do this.”

“Si… please, I cannae…” Soap looked up at him, pleading. 

You dropped a little more, and each time you did, you felt your heart clench at Johnny’s groans of anguish, ready for it to end even though you had just begun. 

Finally, after more than thirty minutes of this terrible limbo, you reached his base and you settled your weight on his body, staying as still as possible to minimize his discomfort. 

“Fuck, bonnie. I cannae do it. I’m sorry, I’m… It hurts,” Johnny was sobbing, and Simon rushed to his side.

Price finally let him free, and he laid there beneath you, throbbing inside of you, aching in your warmth. 

“John,” you whispered, getting Price’s attention, “We should hurry.”

The captain took one last look at Soap and then came over to your side. He stripped off his clothes and tugged on his already-hard cock, drooling for you despite the drama. Your pheromones were strong even without a rut; it was why you had been so successful at your job. You just hoped it would be enough. 

Price sat on the bed next to where you were straddling Johnny’s cock, and he began to kiss you, making sure to take care not to move you too much, but still taking charge of your pleasure nonetheless. You felt his hand begin to rub your lubed folds, prepping your body for your first of many orgasms. 

“Mngh,” you gasped, “Your hands are always so damn good.”

“Love touchin’ you, sweetheart. Gonna make you come for me,” John purred. 

And he was right. It didn’t take much effort from him, and you were at the precipice of your first descent into the dark abyss of bliss, trying to come without accidentally humping forward, controlling your breathing, focusing on your core. 

“Motherfuck–” You let out a deep guttural groan, your belly twisting in on itself and punishing you for staying so still. 

“Good girl,” Price murmured, picking up the pace to chase another one down. 

Two, three, four more, and you were sobbing with pleasure. You couldn’t stop yourself from pulsing around Johnny, but he was trying to be brave. He hadn’t complained once during this part of the process, and as you felt your body produce its slick from high up in your cunt, you hoped his flesh would yield and allow his cock to grow. You weren’t sure exactly where your body was going to fit more of him, but that was a problem for later.

“There it is,” you told Price in a slurred voice.

“Your slick? Aye, I smell you, love. Smells like heaven.”

“Keep going,” Simon said over his shoulder, “Please.”

You nodded down at him, holding onto Price for stability, trying your best to stay in this submissive state without any overt movement. It was not easy. All you wanted to do was hump the life out of Johnny’s fat cock and make him drop his load inside of you, but you knew, logically, that couldn’t happen. So, you stayed as still as you could, holding your hips in place, trying to be as stationary as possible for him. 

The afternoon turned into evening and then into night, and Price had switched out with Gaz who was now buzzing your high-powered vibrator on you with a dark look in his eyes. 

“Babes, I think we have to stop.”

“No,” you gasped, sweat pouring off of your brow, “It’s working. I can feel him growing inside of me. It’ll work.”

“That’s not what I mean. You’re droppin’ into heat. Look at you, you’re burnin’ up.”

You knew he was right, and you also knew it was way too soon. If you fell into your heat now, the whole process would be even harder. The three Alphas who were helping you would have their own needs, soon. And you would be the only one able to solve their rut. 

Price was already not faring so well. He’d needed to step into the other room to cool off, and you could see his knot hanging heavy above his balls. He was producing so much of his own slick and come, and your body was feeding off of that knowledge. 

“Look, Kyle,” you nodded down at Soap, “He’s asleep, deeply, and he finally has some relief. This is working, and we can’t stop now.”

“Come again, then. Come for me right now,” Gaz used his voice to command you, and you were so weak to his Alpha's power that you did. He had forced you to come just then, and you had to clutch him around the neck to stop from sliding back and forth over Soap’s growing cock. 

“See?” Gaz glared at you, “You’re in the early stages now. Your fever isn’t the only bloody clue.”

He grabbed your hair at the nape of your neck and made you look down at his cock. It was huge, and the tip gleamed with an iridescent bead of his Alphic slick. That wasn’t his normal precome. It was a rut, and you were staring at the first drop of his breeding fluids, ready to be painted inside of you to eas the way for his seed to take root. 

“Yeah,” Simon sighed, showing you his rainbow-covered palm, “I’ve had it for a while, now. I was just hopin’ Johnny’d be better and we could stop the rut from setting in.”

“Johnny’s knot is just starting to form. If we stop, he’ll have to go through the rest without the oils, and he… mngh…” The vibrator teased your clit, making you feel another orgasm coming on. It was painful for you to come, but you could handle it. Overstimulation was not life-threatening. You gritted your teeth and continued, “He can’t do it alone.”

“Then, come again,” Gaz swiped a wet thumb across your tight asshole, pressing the vibrator even stronger to your body, making you tumble and struggle with another orgasm, “The faster he knots you, the sooner I can have this pretty fuckin’ cunt.”

“Sergeant,” Price snapped at Gaz, forcing his attention away from you, his voice full of a different kind of hunger. 

Gaz blinked, the dark look in his eyes giving way to his usual sweetness, and he started to apologize to you,

“Fuck, I’m sorry, babes. Just got a little carried away. You smell so fuckin’ intense in your heats. Your scent…”

“It’s okay, Kyle,” you kissed him on the mouth, “It’s not your fault. Just take a break. I can handle John.”

Gaz kissed you back and retreated, clothing himself and ducking outside on the patio for a smoke. As John came to your side, he helped you onto some pillows, placing them under your knees. 

Just when you were settling in again, trying to stay as comfortable as you could, you both heard Soap wake up with a start. Simon was making some tea, but he was right back at Johnny’s side. 

“Johnny, careful,” he helped him readjust, waiting for the cries of pain to begin again. 

But, the screams didn’t come. Sure, he didn’t look like he was having a particularly good time, but he was not crying out in agony. He seemed more surprised that you were,

“Oh, shite. Bonnie, that feels… better. Feels like I can breathe again. Fuck. The base though. It’s so fuckin’ swollen.”

“Your knot,” you panted, “Your knot finally has room to form. I can feel it stretching me.”

Price moved his hand to the edge of your puffy, aching lips, feeling around the place where your body met Johnny’s, checking to see how far he had knotted you. 

“Tha’s our good girl,” he smiled up at you, “Been givin’ him your come, love?”

You nodded, resting your head on Price’s neck, exhausted, but trying to push onward. Soap still needed your strength. 

“Let’s give him a little more, yeah?” The captain’s hand moved to your arse, dipping his finger into your tight hole, even tighter now that it was fighting Johnny’s raging erection for space. 

“Holy fuck,” Price moaned, “He’s got you so fuckin’ full.”

Between Soap’s spread legs, Price laid down on his belly on the bed and began to kiss and bite the meat of your ass, his warm, wet tongue heading straight for your hole. 

He began to lick the outside of your rim, lapping at you in big, long licks. His huge hands were holding your cheeks apart, squeezing their plumpness in his fingers indulgently. When the tip of his pink, writhing muscle reached just beyond the inside of your hole, you cried out, gasping from the sensation. John began to fuck you with his mouth, and you felt your whole body come alive with sparkling need. 

“Mngh! John, please!” You shuddered, your knees trembling on the pillows. 

John hummed, talking to you between decadent licks,

“You smell so bloody good, Omega. You’ve got me fuckin’ dripping down my cock. My knot is already so full for you. Ready for you.”

“Ngh! You’re comin’ on me, lass. I can feel you, and it actually feels bloody brilliant,” Johnny commented, moaning through gritted teeth. 

The man in your pussy was still so sensitive; it was hard for him to focus. But, Soap was growing. His knot was filling with his blood, hardening within you. You could feel it. He was becoming a true Alpha. 

“Are you okay, Johnny? Does it hurt?” You asked him, watching as Simon rubbed his hands all over his chest and belly, trying to sooth him. 

“In the best way, hen. It’s workin’. I know it is.”

Price’s mouth, and the relief you felt at Johnny’s progress, worked together in your nerves and allowed your muscles to relax. You melted into an orgasm over him, pouring your Omegan oils all over his skin. In that same moment, as your come surrounded Johnny’s immense knot, you felt it slip just that much further into you and plug your hole with its girth. He’d done it; he had knotted you without injury. 

“Unhgh! Fuck! Fuck, bonnie, that feels… oh, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You screamed in a wild shout, coming even harder now that you felt Johnny’s thick cream burst inside of your belly, hot and sticky and trapped within you. It made you feel so full of him, his knot and his come leaving little room for anything else. You dared to roll your hips on him, helping drain him dry, pulling more and more come from his heavy balls and letting it churn inside of you, swirling around his cock within your walls. 

Price came back up for air, and after you caught your breath, he helped Johnny slip himself out. His cock was red and bruised from his ordeal, but it was the prick of an Alpha. He’d lived through the change. 

Just when you were going to lean forward and congratulate him, Price’s hands clenched around your shoulders and yanked you from the bed. 

“John! Wait, it’s –”

“It’s my turn, love. You’re in a fuckin’ heat for me, and I’m ready for you,” his face turned dark and serious, just like Gaz had done, and there was no man in the room capable of saving you from John Price. 

“Just let me have a moment. I’m so sore, John. If you can wait for–nghah!!”

He threw you down on your hands and knees and thrust himself inside of you, his large shape too much for your body to ignore. You felt the glide of his slick, and you knew he needed to rut inside of you. He’d mate with you, and it would take, even through your pharmaceutical-grade blockers. He was an Apex Alpha, and there were no drugs on the planet to keep him from completing his birthright. You were about to be bred. 

“Waited long enough, pretty girl. Johnny’s got you so warm and soft. Shouldn’t be long before you’re taking my knot, too,” he growled in your ear, laying over your body as he tried to squeeze every last inch of his shaft inside your hole. 

You could feel his knot swelling at his root like a giant’s fist, bigger than you had ever felt it. But, you’d never serviced him during a heat. It wasn’t done. Guardian Omegas were there to help with ruts; they handled their heats on their own. But, goddamn it was nice to have a real cock for it this time. You’d been single for a long time, and you’d forgotten just how luxurious your body made it feel when you did the right thing and fed a true Alpha right inside your core. 

His thrusts were lewd and cruel. John banged himself into you, a hammer and its tack, dragging you under him and covering you with his hulking body. He was trying to knot you already, but you weren’t prepared to take him. Your whole body felt like it would burn up if you let it, and your skin flushed hot with need. 

“John… I can’t. You’re too much for me. I’m not… Oh, God, fuck!”

Price didn’t listen to your pleas for mercy. Or, he couldn’t. When you looked at him over your shoulder, you saw his eyes, unfocused and half-closed, glancing down every few thrusts to stare at his cock as it whet itself inside of your pussy. He was gone. 

He shoved himself forward, planting his hand in the middle of your back like a hawk with its talons, clutching at his soft prey as he devoured it. His knot pressed, and then retreated, only to press again, determined to get stuck inside your cunt so that his come could fill your womb. 

One more hard thrust, and he was in. 

You wailed out in high pleasure, and you felt your body begin to shudder and tremble from the mind-breaking lust of taking his enormous knot. It was so heavy inside of you that you felt like you were being pushed down by it. When you tried to lift your hips to roll them against him, you couldn’t move. He was too big. 

“Tha’s it, love. Tha’s it. This cunt belongs to me.”

John began to come, grunting and growling out nasty words to you as he spilled his seed inside of you. You felt it pool within you, mixing with Johnny’s, overwhelming it and soaking into your womb. He just kept filling you and filling you; you thought it would never stop. In fact, your belly began to feel tight against the floor, swollen with his milky white come. 

But, your legs were dry. He had knotted you so tightly that nothing escaped. When his hips tried to hump you, reflexes from his sex-fueled brain, he dragged you back across the floor with his dick, strong enough to yank your whole body back and forth with his knot. You felt like a ragdoll, tossed about, stuffed and cock-drunk.     

When he finally did pull out of you, you felt the gush of fluids burst out of your hole and cover the floor. It was a sickening, oozing sort of feeling, and you had to catch your breath from the way your belly clenched and spasmed from the stress.

Just when you thought your ordeal was over, you felt another set of hands take their place on your ass cheeks, holding you down again. 

You looked over your shoulder, and you realized that Gaz had come back inside, ready for his turn with you. 

You started to protest, but John’s callused hand grabbed your face, lifting you up and setting your mouth on his cock, breathing hard and groaning,

“Good little Omega. Be sweet for Garrick, love. You’ll have me again soon. Quite the fuckin’ rut you started. Had no idea this pussy could be so nice. Might have to send you into heat more often.”

idek what the hell this is. someone put me out to pasture holy hell what is wrong with me

[revelboo]

I heard we were presenting our pets for you! This is our emotional support house pet while at uni, he’s a flower beetle! His name is Piss Boy because he keeps peeing on this one specific person who visits sometimes but he’s a sweetheart really ❤️❤️❤️

🤣 he can sense the vibes, maybe? almost looks like an enormous June bug

Names

Insecticons

• “Want to explain why none of the kids you didn’t bother to tell me about have names?” Glancing from you to Bombshell as you smile up at the big mech, Kickback chirps a warning at his brother. Because that smile of yours is somehow absolutely terrifying. You’re tiny compared with them even mass displaced, but right now? He doesn’t want that anger turned his way.

• “Why bother naming the weak ones that won’t survive to adulthood?” Bombshell growls and you stiffen as he points and your heart catches in your throat. Having to run to separate a much smaller sparkling from his bigger sibling, who was apparently about to try and take a bite out of him. Because of course they’re little cannibals, Just look at their awful dads. Hugging the tiny one to you as he warbles cheerfully oblivious to the fact that he almost lost an arm, you’re spinning on your mates. Shrapnel and Kickback at least have the decency to look uncomfortable. “Insecticons learn to fight to survive or they don’t,” Bombshell says, tone dismissive.

• And your face reddens, expression twisting with fury as you hug the little runt to yourself. Can understand why you’re upset, but the sad truth is that to other Cybertronians, their lives don’t mean that much. You see cruelty, but he’s only trying to give a chance. Reaching the young that life isn’t fair, that it’s cruel and sometimes short. “I’m not dealing with this lord of the flies bullshit and my kids aren’t going to eat each other. They’re all going to live,” you’re screaming at him, storming over and glaring up at him, livid as you defend your young. “They’re going to be fucking happy and they’re all going to have names!”

• Biting back a laugh as you scream up at Bombshell and every sparkling immediately transforms to their altmode and flattens down, being silent and trying to avoid your wrath. And Shrapnel just stares as the younglings all hunker down, apparently respecting you and your anger. “Terrifying, terrifying,” he murmurs and you hear him, turning that fury his way and he hesitates. You’re leaking? Tears sliding down your face as you swear at them all.

• Singing soothingly as he steps up behind you, Kickback pulls you into him as you make a miserable, little noise that hurts his spark. And he glares at Bombshell over the top of your head when Shrapnel joins him, cupping your cheek in a clawed hand as you call them ‘heartless bastards.’ Hears Bombshell muttering as he vents and joins them so you and the sparkling you’re holding are caged between them. “Pain in the aft,” Bombshell hisses, reaching to cup the back of your head and retracting his mask to brush his mouth against your forehead. “Name them, then. And I’ll keep them alive,” Bombshell adds, sounding tired but affectionate. Determined.

[manicmanuscription]

Watch Your Step

SJM x Reader Week 2025: Day One @sjmxreaderweek

Prompt: Beginnings / Endings

Pairings: Eris / Reader

Summary: Eris knew his father was going to die today. Afterall it took immense planning. What he didn't expect to meet his mate and he certainly didn't expect to be a blundering idiot as the first introduction.

Tags: mentions of gore, blood, murder, coup, Eris is NOT doing well, slightly evil Eris but he's traumatized so....

Word Count: 875

SJM x Reader Week 2025 | Acotar Masterlist

Eris walked the busy city streets of Herbst with his hands in his pockets, barely noticing the people who passed him by. He had just murdered his father, planned a coup and executed it to absolute perfection. 

None of the villagers even knew their tormentor was dead, although some would be able to guess. The very air itself had shifted when the ancient power found a new host. The blood still staining his hands.

He didn’t know why he had come here, he should be making arrangements for his father’s funeral. Preparing for the announcement of his ‘heart attack’ that would spread through the Autumn Court in just a few hours. Perhaps he wanted a distraction, a reminder of what he had to lose. All he knew was he couldn’t be in that godforsaken house anymore.

The newfound power was thrumming under his skin with a raging vengeance. He felt hot all over as if lava itself had been melded to his very soul. It itched to lash out at any person who brushed against his shoulder as he walked. It begged to be free from the confines of the cage he was struggling to keep intact. 

Everything inside of him was burning and it was overwhelming. His ears rang and he could taste his own blood in the back of his throat. 

It wanted freedom, it wanted to taste the air and dance throughout the forests. It wanted to consume just as much as it wanted to leave and Eris wondered if he would survive it. Black dots dancing in his vision at the restraint it took. 

He briefly thought if this is what drove his father insane and shoved the terrifying notion to the darkest parts of his mind. He would not lose everything he worked for because he could not keep it together as if he was a youngling. He mastered the flame long ago and he would again if that’s what it took.

Eris let out an exhale through clenched teeth, smoke leaving his lips and curling with the very air before hiding in the pollution of the nearby houses all stacked together. He-

Someone ran into him, his distracted state of mind had him stumbling into a cobbled wall. Rage burst along his skin and that newfound beast surged forward with a promise of destruction. Blue sparks of flame dancing in clenched fists. 

He snarled and when he turned to face his attacker the first thing he saw were your hands, hovering over his body as if you reached out to help him but stopped yourself, he trailed the rest of your body until finally landing on those unique eyes and the world shifted on it’s axis for the second time that day. The mating bond snapped in his chest and he swore he heard the ground rumble in response. The universe itself changing the atoms around them to pause time just for that brief moment.

“I am- Holy shit I am so sorry. Are you alright?” You rushed out, studying him carefully, hands still splayed out in the space in front of him. A cautious look in your gaze and Eris was sure he looked like a rabid beast, his clothes rumpled and a vicious stare, smoke curling from under his skin as he burned hotter than he thought possible. 

It was then he realized the hellfire scorching his soul had calmed, instead of urging for freedom it peeked over his shoulder in curiosity. A feeling of calm settling all the way to his bones for the first time in days no-centuries. Hell, maybe for the first time at all. 

Someone called your name from the crowd and he savored the feel of it rolling around his mind. His heart. You cursed under your breath and reached into your cloak, pulling out a few shiny rocks each of them varying in colors. “Sorry this is all I have on me.” You gently dropped them into his hand and he shuddered underneath the brief touch. 

You looked at him expectantly and he realized he hadn’t spoken a single word. When he opened his mouth to try all he could taste was ash. Fuck he needed to say something. Someone called your name again, in a clipped tone and you glanced behind you. “Sorry, again for running into you!” 

And just like that you were gone, whisking yourself away in the haze of people and taking the only peace he had with you. 

That fire reared its ugly head again only this time it had a different purpose a new primal instinct only adding fuel to his newfound power. 

He shook it off and did his best to bury it. Heading back into the streets. Confusion settling over him more than anything else. He would find you. 

No not for courtship. Eris was too determined for love. It wasn’t meant for sadistic monster’s like him. His breathing evened as he settled into his goal-oriented mind. A strategy alreading forming. 

No no, he would find you for the sweet relief you had brought him for he had never felt his fire quiet. Never felt that anxious power be lulled to sleep even before this old power.

At least that’s what he told himself anyways, as he locked that small spark of hope far far away.

[fellthemarvelous]

It pisses me off to see the way some Star Wars fans are so dismissive of Reva, Third Sister.

She's complex. She's interesting. She's clever. She's intelligent. She's strategic. She's conflicted. She's traumatized. She's scared. She's angry. She's a survivor.

The Obi-Wan Kenobi series literally opens with her and her friends watching one of her Jedi mentors get gunned down by clone troopers during Order 66.

She was a FUCKING CHILD!!! They were in the middle of a lesson when the clones walked in and started shooting everyone!! These were Anakin Skywalker's troopers and they were executing every single Jedi around them.

These children had NO idea what was going on. They were scared and they tried to run to safety.

We remember this scene from Revenge of the Sith and we all immediately knew what it meant.

These are the same bodies that Obi-Wan Kenobi found when he and Yoda returned to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant after having to kill so many of Anakin's clone troopers just to survive.

These are children that the Jedi Council wasn't there to save.

Palpatine snuffed out the light of the Jedi in one swift act of terrorism and then blamed the Jedi for their own genocide after taking over the entire galaxy.

And in times of war, the weakest among everyone always suffer the most.

This is what Reva, Jedi youngling, remembers most about the end of the Clone Wars.

Anakin Skywalker, hero of the Clone Wars and former padawan of the great Obi-Wan Kenobi, murdered all of her friends and injured her.

She had to play dead amongst the dead bodies of her friends, and that's how she survived. She witnessed Anakin Skywalker murder all the Jedi in the temple with no one there to stop him because the other Jedi Masters were being executed in a war they had never wanted to enter into in the first place.

She blames herself for not being able to save her friends because she wasn't strong enough to fight back. No youngling was ever going to be strong enough to stand against Anakin Skywalker. She wanted revenge against Anakin Skywalker, and she was just as desperate to get to Obi-Wan Kenobi as he was. She wanted to kill Anakin Skywalker just as badly as Darth Vader wanted to kill Obi-Wan.

She was alone in a galaxy that tortured and executed surviving Jedi. She spent ten years plotting her revenge against Anakin. She was angry at Obi-Wan for not being there to stop Anakin, and rightfully so.

The Republic fell. Reva and her friends were left unprotected. She was the only person she relied on because everyone else failed her. She was only a child when she lost everyone.

And it's clear she was conflicted by her role as an Inquisitor. She doesn't have the training the other Inquisitors do because she volunteered to be an Inquisitor while all the others were tortured and terrorized into falling to the dark side. She only wanted access to Anakin so she could get justice for what he did to her and her family.

Unlike Anakin, Reva couldn't find it in herself to harm a child. She was seeking revenge solely against Anakin Skywalker. Luke and Leia are the same age she was when she watched her friends and family die in front of her.

Yes, she was prepared to torture Leia, but she consistently hesitated, and when Tala walked in, Reva turned away. She stopped. Yeah she was mad, but she didn't have to go through with it. She'd already planted a tracker on Lola. She was already planning on allowing them to escape so she could locate their secret base. She just needed to bait Obi-Wan. Her plan worked perfectly, and she didn't even have to hurt this child who was annoying the shit out of her (not realizing she was dealing with Anakin Skywalker's offspring).

She went to Tatooine to kill Luke, but she couldn't. She hunted him down without bothering to kill Owen or Beru. She only cared about one thing. Getting justice for what happened to everyone she had been unable to save at the end of the war. She was only a child, and when she realized she was about to kill a defenseless child just to get revenge, she couldn't do it. She saw her face when she looked down at Luke and cried when she realized she couldn't do it.

She was so horrified by what she had been prepared to do and returned him to Owen and Beru alive. She fell to her knees and sobbed because she thought she failed her family in the end.

Obi-Wan was there for her this time. He reminded her that by showing mercy, she was giving her friends and family peace. She was not going to become the monster that Anakin Skywalker was.

Obi-Wan helped her and reminded her that she gets to decide who she wants to be from this point forward. She refused to become Anakin Skywalker, and a weight was finally starting to be lifted from her shoulders. A weight she had been carrying for ten long years.

She did what she thought she had to just to survive. She had only been a child with no guidance because everyone she loved died. She survived by joining the ranks of the enemy so she could plot her revenge. Obi-Wan showed her mercy at the moment she needed it most. He wasn't angry with her. He was compassionate. She survived Order 66 just like he did, but she had been defenseless when they were thrust into a galaxy that tortured and killed Force sensitive individuals and those who helped them. He had failed Reva during Order 66, and he wasn't going to fail her this time.

She is getting a second chance at finding her path in life despite the bad things she did. Everyone deserves a second chance. She was robbed of her childhood and had to grow up overnight. She had to learn how to survive. And that's exactly what she did. Just not in the way she expected.

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere self-aware Cristons—duty before love or love before duty?

cw(s): yandere themes and mentions of sexual assault

Yandere Show Ser Criston who gently adjusts the script so he is able to be shown more. He just captured your attention. He cannot lose it quite yet. He makes his training scenes even more of a spectacle. He feels unworthy to know of a being so great that it casts its gaze down upon him, so he has to impress you. You get hours and hours of footage of tournaments that were never part of the original script. You mused that this must have been a marathon of unreleased footage. It all centered around Ser Criston and his fighting abilities, which made so many others envious.

Yandere Book Ser Criston first noticed you after he earned his position as a kingsguard. He noticed your eyes drifting from the words on the oddly modern parchment to the box that flashed a person supposedly imitating him. He could not bear it in that moment. It is as if the gods had looked down upon him, and you looked down upon him with such a loving gaze. He had to guard the nobles and king, and eventually that duty was extended to include you.

Yandere Show Ser Criston takes it a step further and includes you in his daily routine. He feels almost like a youngling again, feeling himself flush when he removes his shirt and purposefully angles himself for your viewing pleasure. He has been stripped of his autonomy all his life and was simply a plaything for younger Rhaenyra. It felt so satisfying to finally have control over when he showed his body, how he went about displaying it, and the privilege of giving it to you instead of it being taken from him—forcefully.

Yandere Book Ser Criston is curious as a newborn babe. He wishes to impress unforgettable memories on your mind. His eyes always soak in the world beyond the book that he is caged within. He manages to knock open the cover more than once just so he can observe more. He is respectful, but he can't help but want more.

Yandere Book Ser Criston becomes consumed by his duty in an effort to keep himself away from you. He can't stop thinking about you. He forces his body to the brink and then survives off of exhaustion. If he doesn't, then he may scare you off. He may not fulfill his purpose as a kingsguard. He became the knight he is today for a chance at something greater than the life he has been given. He so selfishly wants more and wishes for you to give. He forces his true emotions inward and hides himself from the pages you consume. If he disappears, perhaps you will forget about him. He can forget about you. He will be able to return to who he was before. He can't, no matter how hard he tries. 

Yandere Show Ser Criston who uses Queen Alicent as a replacement for you. He may be unable to go to your world, but at least he is able to show you what he wishes to do to you. He can give all his devotion to a woman who is merely second to you. For if you know his skill in the ways of love, won't you lust after him the same way he lusts after you?

Both are not willing to share you with the other. Book Ser Criston knows that he is the superior kingsguard. Show Ser Criston retorts back that his devotion to you trumps any of Book Ser Criston's 'feelings' about you. One of the only things they can agree on is that you are in danger as long as you are not physically protected by them. They need to get you into their world, but how?

[evilminji]

You know? I kinda wonder...

In a Self Insert type scenario, in Star Wars?

They would be MUCH more open to listening to "buddy, a storm's comin'" type warnings. Their Cannon knowledge, even if spotty, would probably echo with the Force and draw its attention to them somewhat. Because they KNOW.

KNOW what is going to happen. Not guess. Not assume. KNOW. Like the Force does. And that? Coupled with their inherent strangeness? Would make them the oddly colored duck of the flock, as it were. Not Super Important... buuuut? Easy to spot.

One of the Force's Blorbos.

Just cause, really. Cause they look funny. The Force doesn't even have a plan for um! But they turned up, ate the Force's food, and look at their wittle faaaace~☆! So it's keeping them. You know... assuming they survive.

Which?

Brings me to my point?

Since they LISTEN? The Force probably chatters like a mofo. Since a Self Insert would be anxious and constantly ASKING for wisdom. For help. A friend. Guidance of any kind. The Force would be draped around them like a particularly pleased with itself shoulder cat. A hovering backseat driver.

Because you DO keep asking, after all.

It's like muscle memory. Building strength. Not... not GREAT, in all actuality? Because Self Insert is avoiding making their OWN choices, probably out of fear? But on the OTHER hand? Both of them KNOW that there is literally a Sith Master like... less then 5 minutes away from where they live. Constantly.

And they are a Youngling.

So???

At What Point?? Does the Force? Engage "Fuck it, we take our baby and run" protocols?

Just? FULL ON "you stop midway through making your dinner, turn off the soup, pick up your kids, leave the house, and NEVER LOOK BACK". Because? Yes. The Jedi KNIGHTS and MASTERS may have vows to try and protect the people of the Republic?

BUT THE YOUNGLINGS DO NOT.

They, in fact, need to be PROTECTED.

And if the Force itself? Says "if you stay here, they WILL die."? You gotta go. Hopefully? You have enough warning to like... pack a ship. But, ya might NOT. Might just be "aaaand, everybody put down your pads! Suprise field trip to Anywhere Else! IMMEDIATELY. Single file, younglings. No running!" Like?

What would you do?

I kinda wanna see it.

Just this somber, vaguely haunted, crechling walking up to import figures like Madam Nu and Yoda going "if I tell you The Force told me we have to take the younglings, ALL OF THEM, and any history we think is worth preserving, and LEAVE... would you listen? Or would you let us die here?" With their tiny lil face and to serious expression.

Like a prophet of Doom.

And WHERE? Exactly? Are they supposed to go? Oh, simple. They are to Trust In The Force. And let it guide them. Out IN THE UNKNOWN REGIONS of wild space! Because THATS fine! Is this a joke?

No.

No the youngling is dead serious. Terrifyingly serious. Has been studying how to pilot a shop like they will have to do so THEMSELF. Asking questions that paint a concerning portrait of a child that fully intends to take their peers on this journey, with or without them.

And the Force? The Force says they MUST. That it is impossibly important they DO.

WELL THEN....

Do they... TELL anybody?

No. Not a single soul. Specifically, not a single soul In The Senate. Ah. Concerning! Guess we're? "Losing" a ship in the war? Oh dear. Such casualties. All those lives. Oh noooooo, and such and so forth. UNRELATED note! It's been FAR too long since this temple was cleaned! Unacceptable. You, random clones definitely not assigned to that ship we definitely just lost! Help us... clean!

Just?

The power of "fuck it, we took our ball and went home/left"? Should be USED more in fics. The Force TOTALLY knows where some sweet, sweet habitable planets are. You'll NEVER fuckin find them if they don't want you too! An entire temple of Jedi asking for the SAME thing? Versus a crusty lil shit?

They asked first. And nicely!

With THIS, balance is maintained. Not through FORCE. But through walking away for a bit. Allowing OTHERS to decide if this is what THEY want for themselves. Order 66 may or may not still happen? But? At most? All you would kill is the current fighting adults. Not the teachers. Not the elders. And CERTAINLY not the young.

They? Are far away. Where the Force is still clear and the light is strong. Growing up. Reflecting on what went wrong. Farming. Building a new temple with the Clones. You know, the ones who didn't have their comms. Never GOT that dreaded order. Get to live free men on a peaceful planet.

Cause historically? You send your kids AWAY from active wars zones. Places that are priority targets for your enemies. And if the Force itself is saying "move the babies"? Welp! Guess you gotta move um, don't ya? It's scary. Uncertain.

But it is an act of faith.

And I just? Wanna see Sith's plans just COMPLETELY fuckin implode? Because they could not plan for Faith. For Trust and Community and Hope. All the things they believe so trite. So worthless. The very things that would lead grown adults, POWERFUL PEOPLE, to actually? LISTEN to a mere youngling. Then follow their lead.

It would be?

Inconceivable to them.

@legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @hypewinter @babbling-babull @hdgnj @starwarsblr @starwars

[prankprincess123]

It's kinda poetic that most of the Jedi who survive 66 are younglings or half trained Padawans. Cause for all the propaganda painting the Jedi as baby stealers who sentenced those children to death, every single one of those Jedi are children whose Masters did everything in their power to keep that baby alive - even when it meant their own death.

[thatforkedroad]

Sun-hearted

[ao3] Anakin Skywalker is not human. The people around him try not to think about it.

----

Shmi had always known her son wasn’t like her. 

At first, she had assumed that the pregnancy had simply happened without her knowledge. Or that perhaps her mind had blocked out the event — a slave knew better than anyone how the brain killed the past to protect the present, to keep you surviving. 

But the more she tried to dig up the memory-that-wasn’t-there, the more she ran through scenarios, the more she realised that nothing that made sense. If it had been… any of her theories, she would have known, there would have been evidence, Watto wouldn’t have been so angry when he found out. Eventually, she realised she had to give up logic alltogether. Anakin’s father was not something knowable to her. He (it?) had been something else. Something impossible. 

A miracle.

The theory only grew more convincing as her pregnancy progressed. She began to sense things no human should have been able to. Objects falling before they’d even been knocked. Watto’s bad mood from two rooms away. Her baby’s strong soul, loudly proclaiming it would be a survivor. 

She held her new sixth sense dear for those nine months she had it — but not as dearly as she held her baby boy, to whom the sense really belonged. Her darling miracle baby boy, who always knew too much too soon, who read intentions as easily as he read schematics, and whose quick hands and quicker mind did the impossible on Boonta Eve. 

Slaves were supposed to cling to their miracles, so few and far between as they were. But a mother was supposed to do what was best for her son, and Anakin was her boy above all else. She let him go, hoping the Jedi would understand and care for his impossibility better than she ever could. 

(And as Shmi died, she did not need Anakin’s sixth sense to feel the anger running through his miracle veins. She did not need it to know what would happen next, either. 

She knew with all the certainty her slow-beating heart had that her son’s grief would raze the galaxy to ash.)

—

Obi-Wan knew Anakin didn’t fit in with the other younglings and padawans.

He wanted to believe it was just because of the boy’s upbringing, that it was only because he’d grown up in a much crueler, realer world to the others. Or perhaps it was because Anakin was already a padawan or because of how annoyingly easily it was for him to call the Force. Maybe they just heard the Council had tried to reject him. There seemed to be a few hundred thousand reasons that the children of the Temple would consider him an outsider — but one stood out like a sore and mythical thumb. 

There was no Chosen One or such thing as a child born of the Force. There was certainly no chance that the other children (even the ones who tried to accept Anakin with open arms) could sense otherness in his blood. He was just like any other Jedi, if a little more reckless. 

As Anakin and the other padawans grew, they grew together. He became like well-sewn patch on an old shirt — the difference was there, yes, but only noticeable if you were really looking. It was better for everyone if Obi-Wan stopped looking for the gap, so he did. 

Anakin had never seemed to notice it, anyway. 

(And as he watched Anakin’s slaughter of the Temple, the hot drowning of dread and horror and nausea was joined by a cold, parasitic realisation. The gap between Anakin and the other Jedi had never grown smaller; Obi-Wan had only grown more blind. 

Jedi were taught from a young age that they could not hold or control the Force, that they were to let it flow freely else they would face the consequences. Obi-Wan had been a fool to think that something made of one half Force and one half heartbreak could be held any more than its parent.)

—

Anakin grinned, and Ahsoka felt every clone in the hangar’s mood lift. Ahsoka couldn’t help but smile in return — and then he cracked a joke, and the worry and grief of the battle became a distant, shrouded memory.

It always went like this. They came back from the latest campaign dirtied, injured, and with a tiredness that ached into their very bones. They all wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep and mourn and not talk to anyone for several hours. But then Anakin — still riding the high of a good fight — would clap Ahsoka on the shoulder, make a stupid comment to Rex, and everything would feel fine. Better than fine even. 

Morale seemed so reliant on him that if her master was angry or sad or upset, so was the entire ship. When he was in a mood, meditation became impossible, no matter how at peace Ahsoka felt. She once considered that it was more than just moral, more than just his stupid jokes, but she had grown up in the Temple, raised on lessons of a Jedi’s few limits. A single man could not project his emotions onto an army. 

Anakin just had a friendly smile, was all. 

(And when Maul told her — warned her — of what her master would become, she did not listen. She could not listen. She thought only of his grin, and the sunny sureness in her chest that always accompanied it.

And so she fought for it again.)

—

Rex knew, theoretically, that General Skywalker was human. 

He’d seen enough medical scans from Kix (on the unusual occasion that the general submitted to care) to know that Skywalker’s biology was just like any natborn human’s. He didn’t have strange-coloured blood or an extra eye and all his (mostly-intact) organs were in the right places. The records showed that he was completely, one-hundred-percent human. 

Theoretically, this made complete sense. 

And it made sense he would seem slightly off. Rex had spent the first decade of his life surrounded entirely by his brothers and Kaminoan scientists; his idea of a ‘normal’ person was someone who looked and sounded identical to him, not a tall, barely-tanned Tatooinian with the wrong accent. Even if it hadn’t been, Rex knew Jedi were different from your average natborn. They could do all these crazy things that belonged in storybooks and myths, not the battlefield. Swaying people, moving objects (or clone captains) with their minds, seeing the future — if Rex hadn’t been trained to do so, he wouldn’t have believed a word of it. 

But if being a Jedi had been the reason, wouldn’t Rex have noticed the same thing with Commander Tano or General Kenobi? He understood that maybe Commander Tano wasn’t old enough to develop whatever it was General Skywalker had — but Kenobi was older, more trained in the Force. Surely Rex would have noticed the same thing, that same surely-not-quite-human feeling with him? 

Maybe he just spent too much time around the General. Maybe this thinking was just a part of having a good natborn friend.

He hoped it was, at least. 

(And when Rex heard of the attack on the Temple, he understood his hope was for naught. 

He and his brothers weren’t an isolated incident, he knew; Ahsoka had felt the deaths across the galaxy. He had no doubt the clones on the battlefield cut down their generals — who trusted them like they trusted their own right hand, who stood alone in front of a one-thousand strong army — with an alarming ease. 

But he heard reports of the Temple, of blue-painted clones massacring all there, and knew they couldn’t have done it alone. Only one Jedi was strong enough to take on a Temple of their own kind and win.)

—

Padmé wondered if her husband was made from the stars themselves.

It seemed like the only explanation, sometimes. How could anything mortal be so beautiful? How could anything born on solid ground hold that much love in its heart? He was impossible. He looked her in the eye and saw right through every mask she wore, saw that all she was at the core was an overworked girl from Naboo — and still beamed like she was the most perfect thing in the galaxy. He loved her for who she was, not what she could do for him nor for the stature of Amidala. That seemed rarer than stardust. 

She would see him and her breath would catch with something that had to be more than love. He stood by the window and stared into the Coruscanti night like he could hear every thought in the city-planet, his golden-brown hair catching the edges of the hundred-colour lights. She ought to walk up to him, hold him, tell him she loves him and pepper him with kisses — but all she could do was stare. In those moments, he was perfect and divine, and she could not interrupt them with her mortality. 

(And as Padmé lay dying, her life force dragged out by some dark presence, she thought of her star-husband. And she thought of the refugees she had once helped when their sun imploded. It should have been a lesson learnt; stars were beautiful in the night sky, warm in the summer, but dangerous. Able to end entire planets in their own cosmic pain. 

Some small part of her knew this when she first said I love you. But she could not listen. She saw only the star-beauty in his eyes and all the love he held in his sun-heart.)

—

Anakin Skywalker had long questioned whether he was human or not. 

But as Darth Vader looked down at his mechanical hands, heard his pressurised breathing, and ignored the pain that followed his every half-sedated movement, he found his humanity was no longer a question. 

[hx4x4enthusiast]

Optimus realising he is a dad (PART 2)

HAHA your god has heard your prayers my followers. I finally wrote part two. *I am running on energy and spite excuse the god complex*

Part 1

“Oh, man I missed the bots so much. I can’t wait to go dune dashing with Bulky and Jacky again.”

“I agree, I love my family but I missed Bee, playing games with my cousins isn’t the same as with him.”

“Yeah I can’t wait to go on a long ride with Arcee.”

Despite exhaustion tugging on the kids, the prospect of seeing the bots again filled all of them with excitement. They collectively agreed to wait at Jack’s house for their guardians to pick them up or a Ground bridge to open. The roar of a powerful engine captured the attention of the children. Which promptly turned into confusion as well as curiosity, when they spotted a very familiar blue and red truck instead of their respective guardians vehicle modes.

Grabbing their bags and locking the door behind them the group walked over to the truck parked on the curb. Jack reached the Prime first and opened the door for Miko to crawl into first, afterwards he helped Raf before climbing into the drivers cab.

“Uh hello, Optimus uhm where are the others?”

“Did something happen to them?”

“Greetings young ones. I can assure you Raphael everyone is well, the lull in Decepticon activity, allowed for an increase of free time, which was as far as I witnessed well used. To answer your question Jack the other are at base, receiving a standard medical examination Ratchet insist upon.”

“Yeah no disrespect OP but why are you picking us up.”

“A valid question Miko, while all of you were on vacation a discovery was made. We… I didn’t plan would…could happen.”

Silence encased the small space of the cab as the truck started moving and pulling out of Jasper, never have the children witnessed Optimus so unsure. Even without really knowing the depth of the position of Prime. Optimus was always a pillar of strength knowledge and confidence, witnessing him being so unsure was concerning.

“As you know due to the war the birthing place of all Cybertronians the Well of All Sparks has stopped working. One of the consequences was a stop in the creation of new sparks, the human equivalent to a child. When a New Spark is created it outer protective layer is still soft and easily damaged, so they have to rely on a protector to help them. These protectors are called Foster additionally they makes sure that all of the Sparklings basic needs are met. When the outer shell has hardened the new spark is referred to as a Youngling and enters a mentoring program for their assigned task. Once they gained the basics and graduated the Youngling program, they are recognized as full Cybertronians.”

“Why are you telling us this, Optimus?”

“Yeah I mean didn’t really wanna have a lesson in school free time.” “MIKO.”

Jack snapped at her, but still he was just as curious as Raf about the answer the Prime would give. While Optimus wasn’t necessary a quiet wallflower, he also wasn’t the most vocal bot.

“Your question is reasonable Raf, to explain what happened in your absence and not shock you I deemed it reasonable to explain Cybertronians relationships as they differ in aspects to human concepts. So allow me to continue, through the entire prospect, you would refer to as “growing up”, no emotional relationships are formed. You are one in many as you start life, opening your spark to someone is in every sense a deeply personal and vulnerable experience on Cybertron. Hence such bonds are sacred and them shattering will negatively impact all parties of the bond. One of the strongest bonds known is the Carrier or Sire bond. To ensure the survival of our species every Cybertronians has a set of coding typically referred to as the Sire/Carrier Protocol. Though it’s activation differs for every bot, the programming makes us protective of our own it typically happens when we form attachments when they are young before they are recognized as Cybertronians. It is a bond the same as the ones you form with your parents at birth. To answer your question Raf, in the absence of all of you my body displayed most unusual behaviors. A scan from Ratchet revealed that nothing was wrong with my frame physically. After another analysis it was revealed that my Sire Protocol was running and my frame acted upon the missing of my Sparklings.”

“OMG DOES THAT MEAN THAT YOU HAVE KIDS, WHY HAVE WE NEVER MET, OMG THEY GOTTA BE SO CUTE-“

“MIKO-Jesus keep it down would you I appreciate not losing my hearing yet.”

“Wait guys, Optimus said that he didn’t know he was running this protocol so he didn’t knew he had children. And if his body acted because his Children were missing. And we were all gone. Then…then we are…”

Optimus came to a stop, opening his door allowing the children to exit his cab. Though none of them moved, realization now also displaying on Jacks and Mikos face. Optimus carefully transformed back into his bipedal form positioning the children in his servos. Carefully he sat down his back against the wall of the small cave he once found patrolling. Slowly the kids, one by one looked up at him. Countless battles a millennia of war and still never was the prime this nervous and unsure as in this moment.

“So does that mean I get to call you Dad?” “Seriously Miko?” “What, I get an alien space Jesus as a dad that is cool as hell.” “Omg why am I friends with you.” “Because you love me, Jackie Boy.” “Shut up Miko.”

All of his fear and stress left his frame as he saw the children bickering with each other like always. A fond huff escaped the prime as his intake stretched into a small smiled, his faceplate shifting into something soft, something loving. For the first time in a long time he was at Pease, his Sparklings, with him, safe and happy. Slowly as to not jostle them he raised his servo to his Chest right by his spark. The movement interrupted the little argument between Jack and Miko, both focusing back on Optimus. This time Raf stepped forward holding onto the Primes thumb for support before speaking.

“Optimus we kinda already saw you as a father figure.” “Yeah you always help us when we need us and y’ know have really good advice.” “Thank you I am truly grateful to have already fulfilled such a role for you.”

With fondness in his optics observed he his two youngest, but as his gaze met with the oldest of the three, Jack looked away. Noticing the avoidance of his gaze Optimus send a commlink to Ratchet with his location, a second later a Ground Bridge opened up, turning to the other two.

“Raf and Miko this Ground Bridge will bring you to base Bumblebee and Bulkhead are already waiting for your return. We will join you later”

Before Miko could start to argue Raf took her hand and shaking his head. Optimus carefully lowered his servo back onto the ground, allowing Raf and Miko to hop down. Turning around to meet Jacks gaze he gave them a nod, sharing a look between them a silent conversation happened. It always fascinated Optimus how human managed to communicate without speech, ERP fields or commlinks. The silent conversation ended with Miko and Raf turning around and disappearing into the ground bridge, which promptly disappeared afterwards. Leaving the cave empty and silent except for the Prime and young human. Optimus lifted his servo back up to his chest allowing the Jack to not have to make direct eye contact with him. The silence continued neither of them making conversation.

“I…I never had a dad. I mean I do he is somewhere probably, obviously otherwise I wouldn’t exist. Mom said he was still there in the beginning but then one day he just left. I don’t really remember for me it’s always been just Mom and me. But then I met Arcee and you and the others and there where so many people there. And I am not alone anymore but everything changed so fast and what if this isn’t real and everything will be gone.” “Change is never easy, but change is also a chance. It forces open doors and shows us possibilities we couldn’t see before. Sometimes that means that we are met with harsh pain and suffering. But it can also push us, it makes us grow and without it we cannot go forward. Sometimes it is fast and happened in the blink of an eye and sometimes it is slow and happens in the span of millennia. Go this way in your own time Jackson, the door is open but it is your step to take.” “Thanks Optimus.” “You are welcome, Jack. Would you like to stay here a moment longer or do you wish to return back to base.” “I…I think I want to stay here a bit longer with you if that’s alright? “I do not mind.”

 Relaxing against the Primes chassis, the two beings of different species stayed like this until the sun bid farewell and the younger one fell asleep. Protected by the millennia old titan with the war worn spark which found peace and love in three small humans.

Masterlist

[everyoneprotector]

If I keep seeing terrible star wars takes on timtok I'm literally goi g to start just reading @gffa 's posts word for word o there. Shut the fuck up the jedi were never baby snatchers (except in rare cases where the child was in actual danger) facism and genocide are both BAD actually and the victims of both are NEVER asking for it the jedi were not slavers anakin was not some blameless Saint corrupted by the jedi/the jedis rules (what????), it does make sense that padawans and younglings survived order 66 especially with how few of them there are (afaik there's 5 - ahsoka, kanan, cal, bode and grogu and bode + kanan both die before the og trilogy anyways!) The inquisitors + vader aren't supposed to be cool power fantasy and the dark side isn't morally correct or even framed as a happy choice in the narratives you dumb fucking cunts!

[sleepyfan-blog]

Beautiful Soup

Author’s Note: This is another fic in Darsas’ Adventures in the Astartes Husbandry AU. Masterlist is here. 

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Warnings: descriptions of food

Summary: Darsas gets some bread bowls from a local bakery and makes soup using some of the vegetables and herbs that he’s been growing in his garden, singing to himself. He plans on sharing this with his beloved Bonded, as it is a bitterly cold winter’s day, and soup is good for the soul.  

You were at work… Which was a state of being that Darsas did not enjoy, but he did understand that you needed to work in order to pay for the things that you wanted. He could find ways to trade his services and abilities with his brothers and cousins in order to acquire whatever it was that you needed or wanted in life… But you had told him that you enjoyed the line of work you were in, and felt that you wished to remain independent.

He had sulked for a while, as he wanted to provide for your every whim and need, but had been able to reflect on this. His drive to protect and care for you would never fade, of that he was sure. But he respected your desire for inner strength and self-reliance. He wouldn’t wish to be wholly dependent on another for his survival and well being, no matter how well he knew and cared for that person, either.

Still, today was a bitterly cold, windy winter’s day, one in a week-long march of bitter winds and high clouds that shaded the ground beneath just enough to make the winter winds bite even harder and do little else. The weather people were threatening Gannet Point with several inches of snow - which would ground traffic until the snow was cleared and mean that you would stay home with him.

A possibility that made the Chaos Space Marine purr in anticipation. He had also overheard you speaking to several friends of yours, wishing to have a hearty bowl of stew for dinner - heavy with vegetables and meat, and spiced to perfection, with fresh baked rolls alongside. While Darsas was not very good at baking - the precise measurements difficult for his eternally-armor clad hands to measure politely… Along with the fact that while he could make yeast rise faster,  the tiny, helpful fungi were always… Over enthusiastic when he sung them into consuming the sugar provided for them to eat and froth up into a fluffy base.

Luckily there were several wonderful bakeries within an easy walk of the den that you and he lived in together. One of them was run by a sweet if somewhat shy baseline woman who had, by some terrible misfortune, was bound to a very grumpy Black Templar. However, so long as Darsas came with mortal money and did not touch anything but his purchases, the growly corpse worshipper couldn’t do a damn thing, per the details of the treaty he had to abide by, if he wanted to stay within Gannet Point with his bonded.

One of Hura’s students - a Primaris youngling was in line, several baselines between the two of them. The boy was bouncing on the balls of his feet as the line moved slowly into the bakery. He kept looking around, as if searching for something or someone… Or hoping to not see something or someone. Hmmm, time to snoop. “Hallo, little Cousin. How are you today?” He called out.

The lad nearly jumped out of his skin and sent a startled glare his way, before squinting up at him in recognition “You’re… Darsas, right? One of Hura’s brothers that he cares for a lot. Not that he doesn’t care about all of his patients, of course.”

“Yes, I am. Hura and I have known one another for many long millenia.” Darsas answered with a smile. They’d served together since the Fourteenth legion had been known as the Dusk Raiders… But those memories were so long ago and so distant. Best not to linger on such things. “Is something bothering you, lad? You seem… Tense.” Then again the lad always did seem to be tightly wound, from the limited contact he’d had with him before.

“I’m… FIne. Just cold as all. Not all of us had the fortune of coming to Anc… Coming to this world with our armor on, and the wind seems to be passing all the way through me…” The lad grumbled, pouting a little.

Darsas could tell that was… While not necessarily fully a lie, there was more to what was going on with the lad then what he was saying.But, given that they did not know each other very well, and there were baselines possibly listening into their conversation, he wasn’t going to push. He was going to vox Hura later to let him know that his apprentice was more skittish than normal. “Fair enough. What are you getting at the bakery?”

“Hmm? Oh, I plan on getting a couple of pies! And some sourdough brot. Pallius is well enough to try mortal food and I really think that he’s going to like both.” Cedric answered, a small grin appearing on the lad’s face. “What are you getting?”

Darsas nods, saying “Oh, the sourdough is quite good! As are the pies they make. I am getting dinner rolls, to go along with the soup that is merrily simmering away at home. I’ve been cooking it all day.” He had tracked down a local butcher to get the beef and lamb bones for the base of the stock, to add to the depth of flavor, trading several pounds of his winter potatoes, carrots and onions for them, as well as some excellent stew meat to accompany the vegetables you’d so graciously allowed him to grow in the garden that you and he tended to.

“... What kind of soup?” The lad asked, going all anxious and tense.

Which was fair, given that Soup and soup were two very different things. “Beef and potato stew, with winter vegetables. I’m making quite a lot of it, if you’d like a bowl, once it’s ready. My bonded mentioned that they really look forward to soup season in winter.” 

The much younger Astartes relaxes, a breath whooshing out of him all at once. “Ah, That kind of soup… Maybe? I have quite a lot to do…”

“I”ll drop off a quart of it to Hura, and let him know that half of it is for you.” Darsas soothed, trying not to grin at how the other was reacting. “The line has moved, young one.”

“Hmm? Oh! You’re right. Thank you.” With that, the lad hurried into the store, the door swinging shut with a merry jingle.

~

Darsas hummed happily to himself as he checked on the soup that he had put in the very large slow-cooking pot that you had gotten him, tasting the liquid and gently pressing on the vegetables, checking for flavor and doneness. He wished he could give you a taste of the soups that Grandfather had shown him how to make - but psykery was so much harder on Ancient Terra, and he was concerned that without the blessings that Grandfather bestowed on his followers, that the tastes of such soups would be too much for your delicate, baseline palette to handle.

Regardless, he added a little bit more delicious herbs and a pinch more salt to the thick, steaming stew. The rolls he had purchased were warming through in the oven, and he had made a special herby butter to go with the rolls. The noodles for this stew were going in now, as snow had started to fall in thick flurries, and you should be arriving home, cold and hungry, soon.

He desperately wanted to rush over to wherever you were and pick you up - bike and all and carry you home, but you’d scolded him the last time he’d done that. So he waited with bated breath for you to return home, the howling of the winds and the soft but er present sounds of the snow falling on the roof and windows an ever-present reminder of the chill that had taken the city.

He heard the crunching of footsteps and the jingling of your keys in the lock, racing over to the door as you opened it, stepping in. There was snow in your hair and clinging to your eye lashes. Despite being bundled up for the weather, your cheeks were red-chafed from the cold weather and you were shivering a little. “Welcome home, my flower.” He murmurs, scooping you up and nuzzling you with his helmet before setting you down.

“I’m happy to be home, Dar! What are you making for dinner? It smells incredible. I’m so hungry, I hope you don’t mind if I have a little snack, if it’s not ready yet?” You respond, smiling warmly at your marine. You quickly take off your winter jacket, gloves, hat, boots, and scarf, with Darsas gently helping you put your things away.

“Dinner is ready! I made beef stew. THe rolls are from that bakery we both like and should be warm soon. But eat as much as you like, my love! Food is good.” He purrs, nuzzling you once again as he swept you off of your feet, carrying you to the dining room table, where he has set up several finger foods for you to snack on, as well as a large mug of hot cocoa, to help you warm up. 

“You spoil me, Dar. You really do.” You sigh, as you grab the steaming mug of hot cocoa, letting the warmth of it seep into your fingers, before taking a sip. A soft sound of delight leaves you. Darsas, despite the reputation of his legion, is an incredible cook and has made this cup of cocoa just the way you like it. You grab a baby baked potato that has been smashed, roasted and covered in cheese, chopped bacon and green onions, delighting in the crunchy exterior and the fluffy middle. 

“Perish the thought, my love! I only treat you in the ways you deserve.” He rumbles, purring as he nuzzles your cheek again before leaving for the kitchen. He isn’t long before he places the massive crock pot in the middle of the table and ladles generous portions of soup for both you and himself. 

The rolls appear moments later, and look just as heavenly as they smell. You eagerly dig into the food, famished from a day of work and the bitterly cold commute home, enjoying the food that your beloved Marine has prepared, and thanking him profusely. 

[revelboo]

I know big metal bug husbands are angry, but may we have some domestic, or as domestic, pieces of holding sparklings and being soft? Also rip mc’s since they’re getting sparked all the time, but how many sparklings do they end up since the spicy swarm snippet made them over a dozen or so. 💀

These kids are pretty much feral at this point right after the human figures out the new Insecticons are actually their kids

Domestic-Swarm

Insecticons x Reader

• Head tipped back and heart racing, you watch your youngest crawl across the ceiling of the hive. At least, you think it’s your youngest. They’re smaller than the others. After your idiot husbands got caught and Kickback had caved and admitted that the tiny Insecticons were all your kids, and you’d finished screaming at them while the ‘kids’ gathered to watch, you’re trying to make up for accidentally ignoring the kids you had no idea you had. All thirty-two of them. Though, Bombshell and Shrapnel hadn’t seemed all that certain making you pretty sure they’d lost count and have no idea how many there are.

• “They won’t fall, little queen,” Kickback says, watching you following along underneath the sparkling, hands out like you’re ready to catch the mass displaced youngling if they do fall. Five more are out of alt mode, wobbling along on their peds behind you, one clinging to your leg. After getting permission to interact with you, the swarm pretty much follows you around. Several more are watching and a couple are in their alt modes climbing the walls. Doesn’t understand your worry, but likes watching you fuss over your young. Servos flexing as his spike stirs thinking about giving you more.

• Venting as he spots you and follows your stare to the ceiling and a sparkling, Bombshell vents and sets down the box of mini energon cubes. “Fuel,” he calls out and the swarm’s attention swings his way, rushing him to squabble over the cubes. “Insecticons don’t fall,” he adds, watching a bigger youngling shove its smallest sibling away from the energon with a warbling hiss. Figuring out a hierarchy among themselves.

• “Or have manners,” you mutter, reaching to pick up the smaller kid and settle him on your hip before wading into the middle of the fighting sparklings to pick up a cube and offer it to him. Amused, Shrapnel shakes his head at you. This is how they get stronger. Fighting for survival. “They’re like feral cats,” you add sounding exasperated as you use a foot to slide two fighting sparklings apart, both younglings looking up at you in confusion and warbling. Before immediately attacking each other again. Play fighting.

• “They’re not human, human,” Shrapnel growls and you narrow your eyes at him. Does he really think you don’t realize that? Human babies don’t crawl up walls or hiss at each other. Or have sharp little denta. They’re worse than cats. Bending you snag another of your kids around the waist, hearing them wail a protest. “You’re making them soft, soft.” Turning to give him a look that promises no sex, you struggle with the weight of the two kids. Because you’re over this and your idiot husbands have been letting your kids run wild while not even bothering to tell you that you had kids.

• “Stop biting your siblings,” you snap as one of the sparklings hisses, arms flailing to get away and you hug them against your side. And you turn your exasperated face Kickback’s way. “What’s this one’s name?” And he freezes, looking at Bombshell in question and you go still. “That better be an ‘I don’t remember’ look, not a ‘we didn’t even bother to name any of our thirty something kids’ look,” you whisper, voice low and furious to make his antenna flatten back, wings tucking close to his frame.

[koiiiji]

fantasy AU series! lookism & windbreaker boys

tw ; supernatural, suggestive, kinda obsessive

starring ; gun & goo

author’s note ; pls if u know art authors bellow, let me know, i will tag them. i took all arts from pinterest and i haven’t found any credits

author’s note 2 ; let me know if you want part 2 with other characters, i decided to separate post in case if you guys won't like it 🙏🏻🫶🏻🪄

Gun & Goo

Oni & Kitsune

it was known that the creatures of the forest were not the friendliest. oni and kitsune divided the forests at the foot of the mountain between themselves, standing at the top of the food chain and becoming each other’s natural enemies, while the tengu lived high in the mountain. the way there was closed to almost all creatures, no matter if they were humans, animals or demons. but this didn’t mean that the young tengu didn’t come down from the mountain in the darkness of the night to look at the inhabitants of the forest. of course, it was forbidden, and the elders severely punished those who disobeyed, but still youthful excitement and interest led small groups of teenagers to the foot of the mountain.

tere's nothing unusual about that, you assured yourself as you made your way through the thick fog, along with the other tengus - your brothers and sisters. you often saw the older guys sneaking out at night to have fun, and in the morning they teased you, younglings, with stories about how entertaining and interesting it was downstairs. this has already become a kind of ritual among young people - teenage excitement and thirst for adventure forced them to run away late at night to the border with something forbidden, to meet something that was hidden from the eyes. the forbidden fruit is always sweet, right?

well, fruit wasn’t that sweet when you fell into a trap, while you were running away from the oni who caught you at the border. maybe guard confused you with kitsune, or even with humans, but they clearly didn't welcome outsiders into their territory. it was very difficult to take off, the forest was very dense, the branches of the pines were so dense that neither the light of the moon nor the light of the stars could be seen, you didn't even have enough space just to spread your wings completely. in a panic, all the brothers and sisters scattered to wherever they went, not sorting out the way, leaving each other alone with darkness, fear and furious onis behind them.

somehow climbing a tree, you tried to get higher so that you could fly out of this damn forest, now I don't care how you get home, whether you will be punished, now the main thing is to survive. * crackling* the branch under you crunches, the hand slips off. A body with wings seems so heavy when they are just flapping behind your back, unable to lift you higher or lighten the weight. and so, you're already flying down, breaking a few more branches under you.

it was unusual to fall. the last thing you remember - before you pass out from a painful shock - is a characteristic crunch in your right wing, for a moment you felt like you were doused with ice water, then the heat of a thousand suns pierced your body sharply. the pain was incredible, so much so that you didn't even have the strength to make a sound louder than a squeak squeezed deep in your chest. the blood was throbbing loudly in ears, pulse was just racing, but a couple of seconds on the ground seemed like an eternity before your brain gave up from the overwhelming amount of adrenaline, pain and fear.

when you woke up, the sun was pleasantly warming your cheek, persistently seeping through the coniferous thickets of the forest. "it seems this one is still alive," a high-pitched voice sounded somewhere above you, dismissively poking a healthy wing with a stick. “what's the difference, just finish her off and let's go, I don't want to be seen in the company of a fucker like you” - another, rough and low voice, boomed somewhere in the distance.

taking advantage of their small skirmish, you abruptly turned over, in the process backhand hitting the blond man in the face with a healthy wing, you crawled back to the trunk of a tree, painfully pulling up the wounded wing, covering yourself with it, and bringing clouds of dust with a healthy one. a pathetic attempt to delay the moment of death honestly. the agony from the broken wing pierced the entire right side of his body, waves of pain drowned out by adrenaline yesterday, now hit with renewed force. with a groan, throwing your head back, you turned your gaze up at the treetops, not wanting to see the faces of two bastards who will just kill you if you're lucky enough.

"but this one pretty adorable,what do you think, Gun?" the blond man said in an ordinary tone, turning his head to his companion, while a clawed hand squeezed your throat with incredible force, pressing harder into the tree. "oh! maybe she's some kind of an important person there? what do you say, poor thing? will they give us a reward if they find out that you're alive?" - the claws dug deeper into the skin when his face was so close, the vertical pupils piercing into your soul. "don't mess around, just kill her already, it's starting to get on my nerves" - an irritated voice approached, did the blond man call him Gun?

another clawed hand grabbed you by your cheeks, twisting your head, examining you. the pitch-black eyes narrowed, appraisingly surveying your entire appearance. "weeeeell, what do you think??" - the blond man drawled, slightly tucking his big ears in anticipation, several tails twitched animatedly behind his back. stop. stopstop. the blond one was a kitsune, but the black-eyed one had two thick horns sticking out of his forehead, so he was an oni. how could these two be standing here together?

"do whatever you want.." - clicking his tongue, oni turned around and headed into the thicket of the forest. "great! let me know when you want to visit us!" - his friend waved cheerfully at him, slowly turning to you and baring his fangs in a wide grin. "don't get him wrong, he liked you.." - he said affectionately, tucking your lock of hair behind your ear, - "we just haven't been able to grab tengu before... well, at least not alive. your brothers and sisters have never gone this far into the forest..." - his predatory grin didn’t leave his face as he examined your wounds and abrasions. "my name is Goo. my friend Yuzuru, but he prefers to call himself Gun," - a hot breath touched your ear when Goo whispered to you about his friend. "let's go heal your beautiful wing, what do you say, cupcake?"

another trap has just been snapped behind your back.

author’s note ; sammy, taejin, vinny and joker coming soon if u guys will like this series🫶🏻👅

[mossyscavern]

In your arms, I feel no fear.

__________________

It was a gruesome battle.

Not many spark signals are shown thanks to him and his decepticons. It’s a bitter sweet victory, just how he likes it. It’s what he is built for…

So why on cybertron is he not satisfied? He even destroyed some of the autobots before they can even get to alpha trion.

The bot grunts as he stomps through the trudging bodies of bots, not even bothering to fly above them. Even telling his decepticons to retreat back to their base of operations.

With a deep sigh in his vents, he decided to use a short cut and went into an alleyway of one of the abandoned cities.

Megatron didn’t care, he tells himself. And if there’s any bots that had survived his attacks he’d finish it… but even then he’s distracted by his thoughts.

Thankfully it didn’t last long as he heard a noise in front of him, to the right of another alleyway. Which already seems off.

With his canon pointed to the opening, he slowly crept up towards it, waiting around the corner… only to put his canon down when no one came out.

‘Nothing… no em field either.’ He thought, deciding to walk in the alleyway, cables relaxed when he saw no immediate danger. Only a dead bot 5 peds away from him.

First thing he noticed about the bot is she’s a femme… been dead for a while thanks to the hole on her tank. The frame is rose gold with silver streaks, a round helm with horns on it, in her restarlueus a fabric bundle.

Even though she put up a fight thanks to the dents presented… he felt no sympathy, in the world of war… no space for survivors.

Giving the autobot femme one last look before walking away… then he heard it. It’s muffled but definitely a sound, red optics land on the bundle.

His optics stare at the fabric before turning, deciding against curiosity and went onwards… not long before he hears wailing, halting the war frame to a stop.

He turns back and in the femmes restarlueus, the wailing came from the now moving fabric… drawing out megatron’s curiosity further.

Walking and kneeling down next to the offline femme, struggling to remove the bundling fabric. Already having a feeling what it could be.

Once the fabric is moved away, it confirmed his suspicions. A wailing sparkling.

The young sparkling’s plating is yellow with black, faceplate being a common silver and the baby bot’s own horns presented on each side of the helm.

In all his years as a warlord warrior… never in his life had he expected to see a living youngling this young in his presence alive.

Megatron furrowed his optic ridges… the sparkling is too small for his liking. Making him scowl as he pieced together what he’s assuming as both possible murder and abandonment.

Pushing the thought aside he looks down at the sparkling in question, seeing the small bot finally calm and stare at megatron curiously with blue eerily familiar optics before servos reach for megatron…

Megatron smirks, then took the sparkling, cradling it in his restarlueus. “Without a semblance of fear? Makes you a worthy bot of my presence.”

The sparkling cooed, trying to reach for megatron’s helm and faceplate, the warrior chuckles at the attempt. “… your main weaponry are affective for now, but it’s a temporary thing.”

He told it, rocking the baby bot back and forth. “You need a fitting designation.. though health takes priority.” Megatron states.. but before he can leave he prays to primus and the thirteen to guide the poor femme’s spark.

After saying his prayers, the mech left with the sparkling in his restarlueus. For all that is worth, megatron swore protection to the sparkling…

To his new son.

__________________

Finally! Took me forever!

Anyways… here we have babybee au with a sprinkle of parent megatron adopted baby bumblebee from the ‘parental megatron franchise’ tag… or for short, parental megatron origins!

Uh, the dead femme in this is a made up character that no one will hear from again... only time she’s ever mentioned, she is mostly known as ‘late carrier’ Or ‘dead carrier’

Sorry… and again, so sorry… hope you guys enjoy!