#off of my own fanfiction

[puckinghischier]

This is me not knowing if your requests are open, but I’m gonna slide in your inbox anyways. I’m currently on my period at the moment and want to actually die, so this is me ever so kindly requesting for some tooth-rottenly sweet comfort with my boy. Whether it focuses on the reader struggling during her time of month or just overall seeking some comfort, I will happily accept either scenario

jack may have a reputation for being sassy and dry at times, but when he knows you need it? that man turns into the softest person on the planet.

he’s waiting on you hand and foot, treading lightly, not wanting to upset you any further. he’s speaking softly to you, as not to jar your sensitive state.

he makes sure you don’t have to make any decisions if you don’t want to, giving your tired brain a rest. he picks up your favorite take out, bringing it to you in the bedroom and eating with you in silence, never making you converse if you didn’t want to. he’s doing the dishes, finishing the laundry, running you a hot bath.

the days leading up to your period are always spent with you being a little off. your usual yappy nature gone, an overall sadness to your features and tone, and the random bouts of tears and extreme insecurity.

he hates it for you, knowing it’s not who you are, but also knowing you’re trapped in the endless cycle of falling victim to an upset in hormones that tricks your brain, every month. he wants nothing more than to help, but he can’t crawl in your brain and take the thoughts away. so, he does what he can.

he brings you your heating pad and meds anytime you so much as wince in discomfort. he holds you while giving your belly a gentle massage, trying to counteract the painful cramps radiating through your lower body. he make sure you have all of your favorite foods on hand. he watches your favorite movies and holds you when your emotions finally boil over. he reassures you that he loves you, more than you’ll ever know, and he’ll always be there when you need him.

he doesn’t mind being your rock. in fact, he loves it. he loves knowing he’s the only person that can bring you comfort when you need it most. he loves being the person you reach for when you want to be held while you cry over the notebook for the thousandth time. he loves the quality time he always gets with you during this week each month (unless he’s on a roadie) because you don’t want to go anywhere. he loves how you cling to him like a koala, his mere touch enough to relax your entire body.

he wants to be any and everything you need. he loves that most of time, your relationship is happy, go-lucky fun. he loves the banter you two have and the natural back and forth of your conversations. but he loves this, too. the domesticity of it all. he loves being able to switch to this soft, caretaker persona for a week each month. he never understood the way his parents always seemed to enjoy dotting on the other when they were sick or upset, but now he does.

he knows now, that the simplest, yet most rewarding, thing you can do for your partner is to simply be there. to anticipate their needs and show them the physical representation of your love. to be their comfort when nothing else in this world soothes them. be their voice of reason, even when their brain is working against them. reminding them that even in their weakest moments, they are deserving of softness, deserving of peace, and deserving of love.

[doodlewizardry]

Have you ever wanted to find your old Ao3 comments? Easily keep track of which (and how many) fics you've commented on? Rediscover a fic that you left a time capsule of a gushing essay on?

Well, you can! And it's simple! (* Note: it only works for comments written after you turn this on.)

Go to your Preferences:

There's a checkbox labelled "Turn off copies of your own comments". This is selected by default. If you deselect it (and save your preferences) then you receive an email for every comment you leave.

But I don't want to get my inbox flooded by Ao3!

Understandable! Luckily, most email clients allow you to set up rules for incoming mail depending on their sender and contents. For instance (using Gmail), I've made it so that these emails skip the inbox, are marked as read, and moved to a label I call my "Comment Collection".

The result? A complete, organised and fully-searchable repository of any comments you leave from this point onwards! Search by fic name, author, date, that one sentence you vividly remember leaving!

I've set up other rules, too, like starring emails that are replies to my comments - I'm always excited to receive them!

I love this system, and I think it's motivated me to leave more comments. I hope that others find it useful too. Happy commenting!

Original preferences trick from this Reddit thread. Tagging @justleaveacommentfest, which motivated me to write this post!

[plutoenjoyer]

jooyeon — sleepyhead

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

genre: fluff 𓇬 wc: 1.7k tags: female reader, established relationship, making out, napping, playful banter, not proofread as usual warnings: none

summary: you stay late with jooyeon at the studio, and you can't help that he's so fun to mess with (lovingly). notes: this was meant to be a part of the "jooyeon randomly biting you" wip but it ended up getting too long and becoming its own thing. now with 100x more reader being cheeky and him being an absolute sucker for it!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

jooyeon invites you to the studio with him if he plans to do some solo practice. it's nice to have some company while he strums away at his instrument for hours, and of course, you don't mind one bit. it's already hard enough to find time to meet with both of your busy schedules, so you'll take any moment of comfortable, quality alone time with him. not only that, it really is a treat to get to see him practice. you think his voice is beautiful, and the gentle lull of his instrument (today, he felt like acoustic guitar) almost always put you to sleep while you're sitting in the corner of the room with his jacket over you like a blanket. it's like being gently guided into a deep sleep, and by god you needed it considering how overworked you were almost all the time. it's warm and safe. you're out in no time.

jooyeon's just about to wrap up when he checks the time. 11 pm. he did not mean to go this late. the other members had waved a goodbye to him what feels like just a moment ago, but in reality it was about two hours. and then he remembers, oh yeah my girlfriend is here, and he's about to ask you if you're ready to head out when he sees your eyes shut, slumped peacefully against the wall.

he feels bad that he made you sit and wait so long. truthfully, he was just so into an idea for a potential song that he lost track of time. he very gently puts the guitar back into the case and gets up, approaching your sleeping figure. he tries his best, for once in his life, to be quiet so he doesn't disturb you. he crouches down onto his knees, resting his cheek against his arms as he looks at you. if anyone were to walk by and see his face they could tell just how in love he was with you.

god, you're pretty. too pretty, the thinks to himself as he watches the way your soft lips are slightly parted as you breathe. he never thought in his twenty two years of life he'd ever care about such a thing but here he was, head over heels for a girl who can't stop biting him.

(and he wonders how you're even able to sleep in such an uncomfortable position. doesn't that hurt your neck?)

gently he taps your arm, and when you don't wake up he grabs your wrist and shakes it a little harder. you were tired, but not tired enough to be able to sleep through that. soon enough you were trying to blink the moisture back into your eyes after having such a good nap.

you slur your words with a small groan of displeasure, "mmn ... joo, are you done ... ?"

he hums in agreement, "mhm, yeah. i'm sorry it took so long." he smiles a bit at how your hair is messed up on one side as you squint at him, trying to readjust to the light.

it would be pretty easy to just stand up right now and grab your things so you both could go home. your bag is right there. but instead, the menace that you are, decide to wrap yourself up tighter in jooyeon's jacket and rest your head back against the wall. you catch the faint smell of his cologne on the jacket as you snuggle into it again.

he looks at you with an unamused pout. "hey."

"just ... mmmfive more minutes ..."

"god, and i'm the sleepyhead?" he scoffs at you, "we gotta go, y'know."

bantering with him was starting to wake you up but you were weirdly comfortable in a way, and taking the fact that you also liked to cause problems for him into consideration, still didn't get up. "you're just mad i napped without you." you don't hide your languid smile.

he decides to convince you with a cheeky remark, "i'll give you a reward if you get up."

"like what?"

"hmm ... how about a kiss?" he slightly sticks out his tongue, trying to give you a playfully flirty expression. his eyebrow raises at you suggestively.

silence. you open your eyes solely to give him a look of disinterest and slight disapproval.

"you could at least go along with it," he whines. but truthfully, he knew that wouldn't work. he's already onto his next mode of convincing. what's the next key to your heart if not for him?

"we can make instant noodles if we get back in time before bed."

by now you're fully awake and shoot him a scrutinizing squint from your unmoving position against the wall. "the buldak or the shin ramyun? choose wisely."

"hmmm ... buldak."

this sparks your interest. "good choice," your tone reflects your immediate approval, "okay, just help me up first," you make grabby hands at him to signal for him to come closer and pull you up. he rolls his eyes at your enthusiasm for the food rather than his affection, yet even if you act silly and intentionally stubborn he still does everything you ask him to just to make you happy.

and happy you are, because he falls right into your trap. before he can lift you up, you grab him by the arms with unexpected force and he almost falls on top of you if not for his quick reflexes. he has both hands on the arm rests of the chair that you're in, hovering above you just inches away from your face. he looks at you in surprise as the adrenaline from the reflexes kicks in.

you grin. "i lied, i want the kiss." you squeeze your eyes shut and purse your lips into a comedic duck-lipped, kissy face. it doesn't last long because after you feel nothing, your eyes flutter open, already giggling at how dumb and annoying you're acting. he looks like he cannot fathom how you're acting right now.

you think he's not going to do it and begin to shift your body up and out of the seat, but you're stopped half way.

"you are so frustrating, you know that," he reprimands you with a slight growl before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. it's clear he savors the feeling despite how he feigns annoyance. you can't ever let him know he caught you by surprise and how your stomach does a flip, because he would never let you live it down.

after a moment you regain your composure (the best you can mid kiss), exceedingly satisfied with how quickly he bends to your will. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him further into you, indulging in the feeling of his slightly chapped lips against yours. he has to steady himself by pressing his knee into the seat, right between your legs and he makes a little noise into your mouth out of surprise. you just can't help yourself if he's going to be that cute. you know that he knows this, and how that aggravates him as someone who claims to be the epitome of manliness.

what was supposed to be a quick peck turns into something more—suddenly he is hungrier for your taste after being provoked so much, turning it into an open mouthed kiss and then a slow, heated make-out session on the well worn armchair of the studio. it's hot. his breath mingles with yours. despite your consistent teasing you are more than willing to melt into his touch. your heart races at the feeling of him searching, wanting more from the heat of your mouth at such a slow and sleepy pace. you quickly feel your face heating up, following his move and willing to give him whatever he wanted from your lips. your hands roam around the expanse of his back and it feels like this moment could last forever.

as soon as you part you look at his love-stricken expression, eyes half-lidded and giving you a crooked smile as he presses his forehead into yours, breathing heavy. his lips are little swollen and pink in the aftermath. you can't help yourself from smiling too, gently running your hands through his hair and twirling bits into your fingers with a satisfied hum. your first thought was that he was so beautiful, and so, so sweet. being with him was thrilling, even if you were doing something as silly as making out like teenagers skipping class.

you're looking at his face like this is the last day you'll ever see it, just admiring how gorgeous he is. he giggles and you feel the faint breath on your cheek. "what?" he gives you a toothy grin, his voice low and raspy and delirious as if he was drunk on your taste alone.

your voice comes out small yet so in love, "'ts nothing. i just like you." which is just scratching the surface of how much you really felt about him.

he looks deep into your eyes, roaming throughout the specks of light that swim through your irises, gives you one last quick peck. "i like you too."

you smile. you know that no matter how silly or stubborn you are he would always be by your side. even when you refuse to get up and he has to coerce you to, even when you spontaneously can't get your hands off each other. you realize the mushy feelings that are bubbling in your throat and threaten to come out as happy tears. in order to break the tension, you joke, "can we still make instant noodles?"

and he laughs, and you feel the warm vibrations against your body, "yes. we can still make the noodles. promise no veggies though."

finally, the two of you get up from the armchair and he's cheesy about it. he grabs your hand, pulls you up into him and spins you. you're always ready to be silly and sappy with him, so you make sure to make a show out of it, all while snickering about how gross it all is. and finally, you make your way home. you think about how good the ramen is going to be. you think about how good it feels, right now, to walk home with him, hand in hand in the cold air of night.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

masterlist | request rules | inbox

thank you for reading! <3

[zenzenzence]

HEY! FELLOW AO3 AUTHORS! STOP DOING THIS!

idk how else to illustrate this than making a fake, unpublished example fanfic —

STOP DOING THIS! PLEASE!

POST YOUR ONE SHOTS SEPARATELY! ESPECIALLY IF THEYRE FOR DIFFERENT FANDOMS/SHIPS!

***Tags selected randomly for making a quick example***

Stop posting random one-shots into one work. Stop making Chapter 1 a Table of Contents. Stop tagging multiple pairings/fandoms/additional tags etc when you haven’t even POSTED the chapters they would apply to!

This spams tags and 9 times out of 10 I avoid these fics on sight and don’t even bother digging through the fic to see if the oneshot is something I won’t even want to read.

These fics should be reportable for spam if they aren’t already.

I’ve started completely muting authors on sight for this now because I’ve personally had enough.

[boypussysam]

for a man like dean the idea of letting someone stick his penis in him was repulsive.

"women are born to be fucked and men to fuck them" was his mantra, but when he thought about a whore stealing the virginity of his sammy he had no choice but to put his pride aside and let sammy fuck him. he was the only one who could take his little brother's innocence away, and sammy was the only one who could make him act like a moaning slut.

although dean loved seeing sammy's beautiful tearful face when he came inside him for the first time, he wouldn't do it again, because for him there was nothing better than feeling sammy's insides contract and struggle to accommodate his massive, thick and raw cock every time he fucked him with a force that he couldn't use with the cheap whores he encountered. he just wanted to find a spell that would allow him to get sammy pregnant over and over again.

they knew each other's bodies like the back of their hands, no one could satisfy sam like dean, and no one could satisfy dean like sam did.

[am-1-ty]

Tamed wilds and sharp claws

This is based off of @nebulaoftheprimes Zoomies! post (which i loved so much) This is the first fanfiction I've written on here so I apologise for any bad spelling/grammar in advance.

Title: Tamed wilds and sharp claws Words: 8274

Optimus Prime wasn't always the large symbol of hope. He wasn't always Optimus Prime, he was once Orion Pax and before that…well before that he was just trying to survive. Meals were scarce, even more so when many of the mechanimals would hibernate through the colder stellar cycles.

Then he was found by Alpha Trion.

He was on a scouting mission, roaming the forest when he decided to venture further out of his territory, just to see if he could catch anything good when there was shuffling to the side. The mech in front of him was no doubt a bigger predator, and while Orion had sharper plating he had only just started to grow into his adult frame.

Alpha Trion had no idea that anyone lived out in the wilderness of Cybertron; the mech in front of him looked no less than fourteen vorns, barely tall enough for a fully grown mech. Trion found himself with two options as he looked upon the young mech, plating high in defence and sharp denta bared in a warning.

It was more than a surprise to find a mech as young as he was with no others around him. It made him weary. This was meant to be a round, to secure the perimeter of the west side of Iacon. He did not expect to come away with much.

He knew that he had guards behind him, they were his trusty squadron but he couldn't just leave the poor sparkling here to fend for himself. “Hello little one” Trion tried to look less threatening, crouching down onto his pedes and holding out his servo. “Are you alone?” The mech in front of him looked up with weariness in his eyes, finials flat against his helm.

“Can you understand me?” He took the silence as a no when the sparkling leaned forwards on his servos, trying to gauge the scent of Trion when he held up his right servo. A sharp pinch is all Orion felt before the mech in front of him came closer. He hissed, a sharp warning sound before lashing out with his claws. A disgruntled shout was all he heard before his moves became lethargic and the world went black.

Trion turned to the selection of guards behind him, all looking various shades of guilty and confused. “I didn't mean shoot him” The guard to the far right hid his tranq behind his frame and Trion sighed looking back at the twitching mech, his frame still sporting his protoform colours.

“I can't leave him here” Trion moved to pick the mech up when one of the mechs behind him held up a servo “sir, is that really the best course of action?”

Trion crouched down beside the young mech, his processor whirring with all of the different outcomes of this. He nodded “I'll figure something out”. With the limp mech now safely secure in his arms a thought crossed his mind. Raising a wild sparkling would be hard granted but, as he made his way back to Iacon (planning to take the backroads of course) he couldn't help but feel that the light mech in his arms felt too right to be a coincidence. Trion smiled as he carefully made his way towards the archive tower, a new future beginning to unfold before his optics.

Orion awoke the same cycle, his processor fuzzy and the room smelled strongly of chemicals. The city of Iacon was loud and bright and overwhelming and he had woken up in a strange place that was not his nest at all. His instincts screamed at him that he was in the territory of another, bigger, stronger mech. He was lucky to be alive. That he should use this opportunity to run.

He had barely gotten off the berth when Alpha Trion opened the door slowly. Orion paused, lowering his body into a crouch (it was easier to run) before growling deeply, a warning fluctuating throughout his EM-Field.

That was until a tentative field wrapped around his, it was warm and it was soothing and it was so unlike anything that Orion had experienced. It made him stop, and reevaluate the situation. It was only then he noticed that the bigger mech held a tray, a cube filled with raw energon sat and Orion knew that it had been long before he had his last meal.

Orion wasn’t a fool, he knew what the bigger mech was trying to do. And it was working.

—

He had been introduced as Orion Pax, the understudy of Alpha Trion and they had left it at that. Ratchet was curious at most, sceptical of the mech at least. He looked small, underage and malnourished, barely grown out of his protoform. The next meeting the mech had sat in a corner behind Alpha Trion. He was silent, almost blanketing himself in the shadows that whispered behind him. His frame was small for the age that Ratchet guessed. Ten maybe eleven vorns at most. Sharp pointed joints and greyed oversized armour that seemed too clean for the amount of times he’d noticed the mech clamouring around the tower.

It carried on for the next three meetings. Orion always trailed after Alpha Trion, head low and shoulders curled. His eyes however were constantly on high alert, it was only after the third meeting Ratchet noticed he was looking for escape routes. Always seated near the window. Never properly focused.

Orion was a puzzle and Ratchet wanted to figure him out.

After the fourth meeting, the medic in training decided that he would finally introduce himself. He waited until many of the trainees and the mentors had left the room. His mentor would always make small talk with some of the others, similarly encouraging Ratchet to do the same. This however was like encouraging a brick wall to go out and make friends with birds. Ratchet never saw the appeal of making friends before Orion came along. He liked being by himself, thank you very much.

Ratchet didn't bother telling his Mentor where he was going, they were both in the room at least. The mech approached Orion, and it barely took a nano-klick before Orion’s gaze was on his, finials flicking up in interest before folding down again.

Ratchet paused, it was predatory, almost like he was analysing how to accurately offline him in a matter of klicks. Ratchet righted himself and stuck out his servo “Hey, I’m Ratchet. I'm training to be the OMC of Iacon. Who are you?" Orion didn't immediately take his hand, he stared, before quickly looking over to Alpha Trion. Ratchet didn't mind, it only intrigued him more as Alpha Trion gestured to shaking his servos and Orion made a small ‘oh’ before grabbing Ratchet’s servo and giving it a rough shake.

“Orion” the mech said as he leaned in closer, Ratchet observed as his eyes became unfocused for a nano-klick before leaning back, obviously content with whatever he had decided as his finials flicked upwards.

“Meeting pleasantries” he continued, and Ratchet’s optical ridge furrowed as he heard a small clink from Alpha Trion and whispered ‘nice to meet you’ before Orion repeated the sentence “nice to meet you”.

“Nice to meet you too Orion”

—

Orion had never taken a proper liking to Iacon. Despite never once being outside of the building that Alpha Trion had deemed safe enough to set up his own base. His own nest. During the first few stellar cycles Orion had been introduced to the world he was supposed to live in.

Taught to read and write and speak in the advanced Cybertronian language. Taught the basic mannerisms and the greeting and the behaviours. The shiny city of Iacon panning out before him when he looks out of the windows. It all looked so terrifying. His armour itched with the need to run and he wanted to bury himself in a hole, only ready to come out when he deemed it was safe from the confinements of society. Although he would never dream of not being grateful for his mentor's wisdom, he could not deny the rabid gnawing that consumed his chassis.

The first time he felt like this, the building didn't properly recover, and this was the archives introduction of the new trainee of Alpha Trion.

It had started with one or two mechs pointing out the deep grooves that were implanted into the ceiling. Then there were complaints about some thinking that there was a wild mechanimal roaming the archives.

The mystery was finally solved by an unsuspecting, undeserving mech who unfortunately looked up at the wrong time to spot piercing blue optics hanging from the top of one of the tablet shelves. She (understandingly) screamed and that’s how Alpha Trion got called down. He scruffed a squirming Orion and personally dealt with the situation.

The archives were a cold and silver polished building, and it was quiet, too quiet for somemech who was raised in the constant echoing of the wilds. Although the frequents who entered didn't mind Orion completely, they weren't the most accepting bunch. Unnerved by his silent movements and the glint of his fangs when the light got too bright. In the wilds, those who survived depended on stealth, of the silence of their steps but here in Iacon, it made him an outsider.

The group of young interns that Alpha Trion had introduced to him whispered behind his back, false rumours of where had come from -the wild, dangerous place he once called home. They didn't understand that he wasn't a threat, not to them.

But he was different, and they feared what they didn’t understand.

Expressing these thoughts towards Alpha Trion served to be a short comfort of ‘they’ll grow used to it’ and a pat of his helm.

—

It was a short trip to Kaon. That was all that Alpha Trion had described it as.

Orion was weary to get on the ship, it was loud and crackling with mech-made energy and it was something that he was taught to hide from, not hop right on. It took some luring but Alpha Trion eventually managed to get Orion on board. A small clingy Orion wasn’t the end of the world anyway.

The conference room was boring, to put it plainly. Orion had stuck to the side of Alpha Trion throughout the trip. Digging his claws into his mentor's armour when anymech came too close to him, snarling before Alpha Trion reprimanded him with a short and sharp click. His first impression thankfully kept most mech’s away anyway.

He unfortunately had to wait outside the room whilst Alpha Trion was discussing with the other higher caste council. There was a bench outside of the room, but Orion ignored that in favour of pacing the hallway, his optics scanning the building for escape routes.

When Orion reached the end of the hallway, an open window caught his attention. There he looked out upon the industrial landscape of Kaon, below the tower he stood on though was a stadium. It was loud, mechs shouting and cheering, blinding lights searched over the sky in long foul swoops. Highlighting the clouds that hung low, kissing the tops of the buildings. Orion’s attention wavered. Usually big bright lights and shouting meant danger, but since living in Iacon, it only meant something more interesting than whatever was going on in the archives.

Orion looked back at the hallway, he didn't know how long the meeting was going to take or how long his mentor would stay afterwards. Trion would always say that Orion’s curiosity would get him in the most trouble. This served as a quick and short thought and Orion jumped out the window.

—

The stadium was packed with all different types, shapes and sizes. Mech crammed into seats around the roaring stands and Orion felt overwhelmed with the amount of noise reverberating through his audials. He had half a mind to mute them when his eyes caught on the arena.

A grey mech, he was running rampant around the stage, low to the ground and fast. It made something in his chassis contract and the sudden urge to join the mech flowed through every circuit in his build.

Orion eyed the other competitor, a blue and white mech with a similar build to the grey mech. He was stock still, looking and trying to anticipate what the grey mech’s plan was. That was strike number one.

The other competitor on the stage watched as the grey mech zig zagged closer and closer to the other, dust clouds following in his wake. The grey mech turned away for a split second before grabbing a struggling competitor and body slamming the blue and white mech into the ground.

The crowd went manic. Cogs and bolts flew as the stands erupted in a tsunami of cheers and Orion muted his audials in panic, finials flat against his head, he ran to the nearest safe place he could see.

Slowly he brought his audials back online. The hallway that he had dashed into muffled a lot of the noise and he placed a servo on the cold wall. It grounded him for a moment as he slid down to sit on the gravel. Orion would regret it later when he would still have stones and sand falling out of his armour an hour later but that was a problem for future Orion. After a moment of muffled cheers and vents being blasted at full force, he heard quiet footsteps.

Orion righted himself, turning with a curious gaze to the darkened tunnel and decided to investigate. A small part of himself (a part that might not ever be snuffed out) had already declared that this hiding spot was his. He was the bigger predator, he would fight the creature that had decided to invade his territory.

It was there that he ran into the large grey mech, at least two times bigger than he was, armour sharp and eyes a blazing red. Scrap, he was definitely not the bigger predator. They stared at each other for a while the datapad in the larger mech’s dimmed at the lack of stimuli.

“Hello” The mech said, and Orion was too stunned, too overwhelmed by the events of the cycle that he forgot to respond. Too concentrated on picking apart this mech’s weaknesses whether he realised it or not. Up close Orion could see how the mech’s armour glinted with rough edges and battle scars from years of training and battles.

The mech didn't back down, didn't shy away from Orion’s predatory gaze. In fact he was more intrigued if anything. As the more he stared the higher Orion’s plating rose, an adorable attempt at intimidation.

“I didn't hear you come round the corner” the mech said “I must be more tired than I thought” the grey mech laughed. It was husky and deep and it seemed to slip down his throat like honey.

“What are you doing here young mech?” ah questions. He could do this.

“Loud” Orion croaked out and he internally cringed at the simplicity of his answer, he knew better words than that.

“Yes I suppose it is” The grey mech knelt down “i don't do well with crowds either” he smiled, and Orion noted how he did not display his denta like many others and how Alpha Trion taught him to smile.

“Im Megatronus” and oh! Orion had read about him in one of the tablets, Alpha Trion blatantly complained about his rebellion that he leads, he wasn't just a gladiator, he threw speeches left right and centre. Megatronus spoke up against the higher up’s, he connected the downtrodden, spoke up for the miners and the labourers of Kaon, the Cybertronians living underneath the heavy weight of the council’s iron rules. He was known for being the fiercest fighter in the vast chambers of Kaon's fighting arenas, where the shadows would linger, covering the air with thick smoke and sparks of raw ambition crackled, lighting up the stadiums. The Kaon fighting pits! So that's where he was!

Orion suddenly felt a lot more confident as he answered “Nice to meet you, my name is Orion”.

“Orion?” Megatronus mulled it over “that's a very interesting name”. There was a pause, Megatronus’ eyes searched his before the larger mech finally decided to break the muffled shouts of the stadium with “You’re not from Kaon are you, young mech?”

Despite how many times that Orion scuffed up his armour, how many times he rolled in the dirt or covered himself in the scent of fresh growth and outdated energon on his scouting trips. The new armour would always be washed clean at the end of the day. Shiny and presentable. Just like Alpha Trion.

“No, sir, Iacon is where I reside” hmm, it seemed like the practice conversations he would have with Ratchet is paying off “I’ve read your speeches, what you fight for is very brave and admirable”.

The mech’s optics dimmed and he scoffed "what would a prissy Iacon mech know about needing to fight” Orion knew that it wasn't a question. If not for the seething anger and annoyance that reverberated around the mech but for the curling snarl that displayed sharp white denta. Orion didn't know what he did wrong, the mech liked him before didn't he? Was it something of his status, did he have a bad relationship with Iacon?

Alpha Trion never liked him, perhaps that was it?

“Why are you here anyway? What business do you have with the Kaon pits?” The large mech pushed forwards as Orion curled back, this was a predator and Orion knew not to mess with predators. But he couldn't run away from this fight “Were you sent by the council? To find the flaws in our ways?” Orion shook his helm helplessly.

“I heard cheers, I was curious is all” Orion felt his servos hit the wall and his spark whirled rapidly, he was trapped.

Megatronus smirked, leaning closer knowing that he had gotten the spy trapped and ignoring his pleas “I wonder what the higher council will say when I caught one of their-” It was sharp and fast and painful. Megatronus cried out as Orion scrambled back, claws out and sharp denta bared in a warning. The scrape across Megatronus’ armour was steadily oozing energon and he looked at the young mech, surprise drawn across his faceplates.

“Well look at that, the glitch mouse had claws” The grey mech looked down at Orion, they had to at least be the same age but the other looked small and malnourished, sharpened armour and his optics formed slits.

“You weren't raised in Iacon, were you?” Orion paused, his vents working overtime to cool his internal workings and shook his head.

“My home was what Trion calls the wilds.” Megatronus furrowed his optical ridges before smiling and nodding.

“My apologies for my rude introduction little glitch mouse, come visit the Kaon Pits anytime, maybe then you can teach me how you did that neat trick” Megatronus smiled when the pupils of Orion's optics expanded, his finials flicking up.

“I enjoy our next talk”

—

The introduction between Megatronus and Orion sparked and lit a brilliant blazing flame and despite what Alpha Trion internally thought, he was glad at least that Orion had made a few friends other than Ratchet. He should have expected that they were going to be more of the unruly type but that did little to stop Orion. Instead it further intrigued him, Orion never found solace in Iacon, but in the dark, industrial city of Kaon he found freedom. More freedom than he had felt in the last three vorns. Megatronus did not berate him if his words got too harsh or if he didnt use the right tone, nor his fellow colleagues. They did not teach him the ways of the new society nor did they try. Instead he taught them.

He taught them how to move silently, how to blanket yourself in the shadows when capturing your prey and to never stay still. The gladiators of Kaon were far unlike the archivists, they didn't care for Orion’s past. That he had grown up surrounded by a multitude of cybertronian nightmares. They didn't care because to them, it only made him stronger. They accepted him as he was, claws and all.

It had posed a few misunderstandings when he was first introduced however, on the surface he looked like just another mech who wanted to join Megatronus’ cause. And if Megatronus trusted him, why shouldn't they? When mech’s would finish their battles and reside in the common space it took a while for them to realise that Orion scampering up the walls and along the ceiling, his claws leaving deep grooves in the steel walls, was going to become a regular thing.

Megatronus had once caught Orion doing it, mumbling something to himself about where the holes in the wall came from as one of his friends patted his arm “at least it's not a feral insecticon, we'll take the small wins”.

Orion was overwhelmed with the change in acceptance and he held onto it with both servos. He revelled in the fact that he didn't have to shrink inwards on himself, he didn't have to make himself as small and unnoticeable as he possibly could in public. He didn't have to worry about spooking patrons with his armour and claws.

He talked loud and proud, fangs glinting sharply in the low light of the city, using his hands freely in expression, and not fearing that someone would tell him to put them away in fear he would break the fragile objects around him. Mechs did more than just accept him, they embraced him into their groups, laughing when his optics were consumed by his pupils and jumped around when he got excited. In Kaon, Orion would be able to catch an electro-dove mid flight with his bare denta (something that he wouldn't even dream about doing in Iacon) and bots that were in the area would observe, nod in appreciation of a successful hunt and continue on as Orion would scarf down the bird in two bites. Megatorn (who would normally go flying with Orion at least once a deca-cycle) openly laughed whenever this occurred, it was a sound that Orion wanted to bottle in a jar and keep for the rest of eternity.

When the urge seized Orion once again, spark becoming bound within his chassis and processor dizzy with the amount of new information it held, he ran. It became clear, with both the mechs in the Kaon Pits and the surrounding neighbourhood that if you got in the way whilst Orion got his (dubbed by Megatronus) ‘Zoomies’ because you failed to get yourself out of the way in time, be prepared to become the next cybertronian springboard. Sometimes, some gladiator mech’s joined him, picking out different routes and buildings that they would all safely get over, laughing as they raced through the dark streets of Kaon. In those moments, Orion felt more alive than he had done in years.

He was no longer who he once was, unnamed mech just trying to survive out in unmarked territory, nor was he the quiet understudy archivist of Iacon that he had built his position around. Not when he was out here. Out here, he was something in between. Something wild and untamed, yet with a mind as sharp as his claws.

–

When Orion became chained by his new name, it was a lot harder to sneak out (it was a lot harder to do anything besides work). He had learned quickly during his time in Iacon that he was to place a stopper on his base instincts. That he shouldnt behave like that if he wanted to become a civilised mech. So, he did. Optimus (Not Orion anymore) was a leader, strong and powerful, and if his berth looked a bit more like a nest, or if he snarled and hissed at decepticons in the mists of battle, that was nobody’s business but his. His urge to run, to devour and maim gnawed at him beneath the weight of responsibility.

—

Ratchet wasn't an oblivious mech. He could see how Optimus had gotten twitchy at the start of the war, couped up in some base whilst trying to decipher the Decepticons messages. It was hard, especially since he was constantly surrounded by new people without having Alpha Trion to hide behind when things got too overwhelming. Becoming someone new almost overnight was suffocating for any mech.

Ratchet would see the way that his servos’ would clench, his early morning prowls around the base and the late night kitchen raids. Ratchet was sure that he had seen Optimus climb on top of the energon cooler once, but he didn't mention it.

This was why when he came into Optimus’ hab suite to find Optimus lying on one of the metal beams above his berth he put his foot down.

“You need to go out,” Ratchet said the next morning, his fingers flying on the datapad in rapid succession. Optimus paused, the crates of broken tablets clunking in front of him, “what?”

“You heard me, you’ve been cooped up in this base and it's driving both you and me mad.” Ratchet grumbled, finishing off his sentence on the data pad and turning to Optimus. “That wasn't a suggestion”.

“Ratchet, I need to be here, helping” Optimus put the box down, his armour plate rising in an attempt to make his point known. “There is too much at stake fo-”.

Ratchet stared at him, quiet and still. He crossed his arms over his chassis. Optimus shrank back.

“Just a few cycles, that's all i ask” Ratchet smiled, Optimus was always known to be big and strong, all knowing. In the end Ratchet always knew the truth. He was barely over 20 vorns after all. “It will be good for you, to burn off that energy and shutting down your higher processing”. He noted the way that Optimus seemed to stiffen.

“I know you haven’t done it in a while” Ratchet paused, forcing Optimus to make optic contact with him. “It's needed though”.

Optimus frowned, optics darting around the room trying to focus on anything but the conversation at hand, “but-”

“But nothing, as your medic I insist” Optimus scoffed at those words “playing the medic role now are we?” Ratchet dutifully ignored him “go out to the crystal spires for today and if you really don't like it come back, but i won't bother you for a few cycles if you decide to stay there”. Ratchet came close, his EM-Field wrapping around Optimus like a warm safe blanket. Optimus hesitated, if something were to happen whilst he was gone, but he trusted Ratchet. Eventually he sighed and Optimus met Ratchet's optics.

“If the medic says so”.

Ratchet smiled, and laughed, patting Optimus on his shoulder “come on, i'll see you out”.

—

The wilderness echoed around him, a quiet whisper of home enveloped his helm and Optimus smiled. Claws sunk into the ground, the familiar feeling of dirt under his pedes. He didn't walk. He ran.

—

It was supposed to be nothing more than a scouting mission, even if his spark ached for the familiar soil under his pedes and the smell of Iacon. Megatron had told his lieutenant that it was nothing more than that. Even if Starscream had looked him up and down with hooded eyes and a knowing smirk plastered across his faceplate.

"You're in charge until I'm back" Megatron had mumbled, his voice echoing round the bow (starscream had lovingly nicknamed it the throne room) "I trust you'll be responsible" Megatron turned towards the door, smiling slightly at the way starscream's face lit up.

He decided to take some lowly recruits, it would have looked odd if he just went out by himself anyway.

He had decided to scout the west side of Iacon, the Old forest was what many of the locals had called it. Some even claimed that the forest grew only a few cycles after Primus transformed himself into Cybertron. The woodland stretched for miles, bushy mountains and valleys filled with spires that stretched higher than many of the buildings that were splayed out across Iacon.

The local council had deemed it a planetary treasure and mechs from all over Cybertron would come to various parts just to marvel and stand under the hundreds of acres of towering crystal trees.

Megtron had led his small squadron to the outskirts of one of the small openings and led them inside. Telling each and every one of them to keep guard as Iacon was known for having the most top security system there was. After all, Optimus Prime (Bah, such a silly name if you asked Megatron) resided in the city. Only the best for Mr. Prime himself.

Megatron remembered a time when big titles didn't matter, not when they had each other's back. Not when each other was all they had.

A squadron up at the front raised his servo and Megatron raised an optical ridge. His audials picking up the shuffling of the trees and the clinking of leaves, optics scanning their surroundings and looking for threats between the trees.

He eventually gave up after a second, turning to his comms and hushing a quiet but harsh 'what is it?'. There was only a slight pause before a voice overcame the right side of his audial and the squadron's voice came overhead.

‘Something is coming’ he said ‘and fast. We should hide, it might be an Autobot or two’ the rest of the mechs around him stiffened up and Megatron rolled his eyes. He knew that most of the Decepicons were part of normal civilisation and society before they joined his cause. They couldn’t have not been, unless there was some secret organisation of mechs he didn’t know about.

(Which was highly unlikely)

They pushed themselves back towards the trees, blanketing themselves in the darkness of the surrounding night that whispered along the edges of the clearing. Many of their frames, thankfully, were among the greyer colours.

There was an intake of breaths as galloping footsteps came closer, pushing sheddings of crystal shards across the ground as a zap-deer came rushing through the trees, clearly in distress about something.

Megatron heard a collective outtake of vents at the built up pressure he was sure they were all experiencing. He paused at a quiet whisper of the mech from before (god forbid it he knew their name) “that's odd, I could've sworn there were two-“

That’s when he sees him. Optimus-fragging-prime in all of his large matrix holding glory. The mech barreled through the treeline, his plating littered with scrapes and dents and his claws freshly sharpened.

The squadron watched on in horror as Optimus (THE Optimus prime, oh Lord high protector and kind leader of the autobots) jumped on top of the zap-deer, pinning it down and sinking his claws into its mesh as easily as melted steel.

It occurred to megatron then two things: 1. Optimus was out of his mind, both figuratively and literally 2. Megatron has no idea how the autobots haven’t already won this war (and he’s starting to think that Optimus is losing on purpose)

Optimus’ jaw unhinged and the squadron got a short glint of his fangs before he ripped off the head of the zap-deer, the throat split open in a spray of energon and despite the nauseating fear surrounding his squadron, Megatron could help but feel impressed.

He knew that Orio-Optimus (before he was Optimus) grew up in the wilds. The active base coding in his processor looked almost to be snuffed out by the time Megatron saw him leading the autobots.

He knew though. Megatron knew that Orio-Optimus (he was Optimus now) could never forget who he was before Primus chose him. He watched on as Optimus feasted on his newest kill, almost smiling at the horrified looks on his squadron's faces.

It didn’t last long though as one of the mechs took a step back, clearly unnerved by the whole ordeal, and stepped on a broken piece of crystal. It crushed loudly under his pede and he winced, optics widening as optimus’ head spun round. Optics slit and fangs bared in a warning growl at the trespasser. (Fully intent on mauling them I hope you know)

This stopped however as Megatron stepped out in front of the mech. Forcing Optimus’ gaze on him as he approached the edge of the cleaning. Shadows chased away by the moonlight shining off of the crystals.

Optimus stared at him for a moment and Megatron could see how his optics quivered before shrinking down again.

Megatron waited, crouched on one knee, servo’s out and open.

“Hello old friend”

Optimus paused, his primal mind assessing the situation before slowly creeping closer. He noticed his own scent on the other mech, it was light and old but it was there.

Megatron felt the light brush of Orion’s face plate as he sniffed his servo. The warmth radiating off of him made him almost miss the quiet nights they would share together. Couped up in their berths with only each other’s holograms for light and nights they would sneak over the wall together. Nights that only the stars bore witness to.

It ended as soon as it started, this time with an ex-ventilation and a judging sound of a snort before Optimus turned and ran out of the clearing, his claws leaving deep sinking marks in the ground. And megatron with a warm spark.

He didn’t like what they fought for, a commanding leader who lied to their subjects and made bargains with devils. But he would never forget his first friend.

There was silence for a while before one of the mechs behind him turned to the others and whispered “anyone wanna tell me what the hell just happened?”

Megatron turned to point his cannon at them, his face plates curling to reveal a snarl. “If any single mech that was here today tells anyone else what happened here, I will slaughter you alive and feed your remains to Optimus. Is that understood?”

He got a chorus of “yes, sir!” And he relaxed, happy with the threat he imposed.

—

When Optimus got the short ping through his audial, Ratchet's calming voice echoing through his helm it was a struggle to accept his higher processing.

“Optimus, are you there?” Ratchet’s voice reverberated around his helm and Optimus found himself wincing at the volume. Resetting his voice box after a few days of not using it for the advanced cybertronian language he slowly replied to the medic.

“Here” he heard a humm from the other side of the comm and he found it difficult not to repeat the sound in an attempt to soothe Ratchet from a nonexistent threat.

“Are you ready to come back to Iacon? We might have found a lead on the Decepticons” He could tell by the clacking in the background that Ratchet was typing furiously on a tablet and Optimus internally chuckled at his friend's antics.

“I'm on my way back now” Optimus smiled and brushed himself off, excited to get one last run on his way back to Iacon.

When Optimus got back to Iacon it became a habit of Ratchet’s to shake his helm at the state he had gotten himself in, shove his friend over to his medical berth and gently wipe off the dried energon from his plating. A skill that Ratchet has perfected over many vorns.

—

“So…” Miko started, her voice trailing off in thought “He’s feral?”

Ratchet looked at her, faceplates tilting down in a scowl “he’s what?”

“Yeah” Raf looked up from his video game “what?”

“Miko” Jack started, his arm slinging down to rest on the couch “Optimus isn't feral” Miko whined turning to face him “not even a little?”

Raf shrugged and continued on with his game and Jack watched whilst Miko bugged Ratchet about Optimus’ backstory.

“Ratchet, pleaseeeee pretty please tell me some more” Miko leant over the bannister, her face uncomfortably close with the Medics as he took a step back grumbling something about personal space under his breath.

“I told you all that you needed to know, Optimus just needs some time to explore the surroundings without his higher processing getting in the way” Ratchet made his way over to the data pad that resided in the middle of the room, fingers drumming over the keyboard.

“Higher processing?” Jack asked and Ratchet turned, pleased that someone finally asked about something he could tell them wholeheartedly.

“Every Cybertronian is made with base coding, this allows them to walk, stand, communicate in their basic ways, ventilate, so on and so forth” Ratchet paused at the thoughtful expression on Jack’s face before Raf spoke up “so it's like babies?”

“Your human equivalent of sparklings would be babies, yes” Ratchet’s mouth formed a line “however cybertronian sparklings are much more advanced than human sparklings”.

“Babies” Miko spoke up and Ratchet nodded hurriedly with a dismissive “yes, yes I know”.

“Their higher processing is everything that a civilised mech has to learn when a sparkling, to be integrated into our society when they are grown” Ratchet turned away from the datapad, leaning against the railing and making optic contact with the kids “They learn things like the advanced cybertronian literature, manners and how to interact with other mech’s both their age and above”.

“So it's like the dual processing theory?” Miko interrupted and Raf looked up after his screen flashed a bloody red, signalling that he lost with a questioning “what?”

“The dual processing theory!” she bounced up to lean against the back of the sofa “It's basically how the human brain has type one processing which is more intuitive thinking and type two processing which is more deliberate thinking”.

The three figures looked at her and she furrowed her brows “what? I listen in class” she crossed her arms and mumbled “sometimes”.

“Right, yes” Ratchet cleared his vocaliser “I guess it's similar to that”.

“So…” Raf started, closing his laptop and looking up towards the medic “he's acting on instinct?” Ratchet nodded, servos rested on the railing and hummed in approval “that seems right”.

The kids mumbled among themselves, however they still seemed confused and Ratchet sighed “look, he just needs to run around for a bit, burn off the extra energy that he builds up” He turned back towards the data pad unbeknownst to the information bomb he’d just dropped on the kids.

“He’s got the zoomies” Miko whispered and a smile stretched across her face as she turned towards the boys behind her “guys! He's got the zoomies!”

Jack turned to her with an amused smile and Raf looked bewildered “he's got the what?”

Miko stood up, rocking on her heels “You know when cats get the zoomies? Optimus is a cat!”. Miko quickly brought out her phone, switching on youtube and showing them the first cat video that came up. Jack and Raf looked on as the video depicted a black and white night vision video of a house cat scampering around the presumed living room at frightening speeds. She paused, turning the phone towards her “just not at three am”. She dashed towards the railing, almost throwing herself over it “Ratchet!”

Ratchet looked over tiredly “Yes?”

“Does Optimus have zoomies at three am?” Ratchet looked taken aback by the question, looking around possibly for the secret camera that was recording this weird life he led “no, not that I know of”.

Miko deflated, and then perked up again “can we go and visit optimus?”

“No,” Ratchet said, and that was that. Miko pouted, deflating against the railing.

–

It was a couple of hours later, Arcee, Bumblebee and Bulkhead had come back from a scouting mission that was deemed a tinsy bit too dangerous to take their partners on. Immediately as Bulkhead drove through the bridge Miko pounced.

“Bulkhead!” She yelled, sliding down the side of the railing as the bot transformed into his root mode. “Miko,” he replied, “how was your day?”

“Triangles” she waved him off “Did you know that Optimus gets the zoomies?” she grinned and Bulkhead leant down, confused.

“I'm sorry, he gets what?”

Jack looked up towards his partner, glad to see that she wasn't injured before leading into the same questions that Miko had “yeah, Arcee did you know about this?”

Arcee scoffed and leant against the railing beside the couch “I wasn't aware prime did anything other than work and look serious”.

“Anymech want to tell me about what happened on the scouting trip?” Ratchet turned away from his datapad and glared at the three mech’s. Bumblebee shrank away to jokingly hide behind Raf and see what new game he was playing today.

Arcee groaned “No energon, no decepticons, absolutely nothing besides death drops and skittish earth creatures”. Jack looked up in sympathy “not a very interesting day then?”

Bumblebee let out a tired whine collapsing against the railing as Raf sadly pat his helm.

“Not going to lie though” Arcee mumbled, thinking back to the previous conversation “I did once hear some shuffling outside my berth room and when I went to go and check, all I could see down the hallway was two massive glowing blue optics, I thought I was being chased down by a- what did you say they were called?”

“Demons?” Jack asked “Wizards?” chimed Raf “Zombies?” Miko yelled, clamouring on top of bulkhead as he quietly mumbled “Miko, are you sure you don't have the zoomies?”

“She absolutely does” Raf said as Arcee nodded towards Jack with the demons. “It was freaky but I'm pretty sure it was OP”. She looked around the base “speaking of OP, where is he?”

“Classified” Ratchet mumbled as Miko shouted “zooming!” over him. Arcee nodded and decided not to ask again.

“How fast can you run bulkhead?” Miko asked, now comfortably sitting on one of the bots shoulders. Bulkhead hummed for a moment “alt or root mode?”

“Root” Miko replied, swinging her legs absentmindedly and looking for a good cat video to show bulkhead. Bulkhead shrugged as best as he could without knocking Miko off “I don't know, I don't run a lot. I can go up to 300 miles per hour in alt mode though”.

“D’ya know how fast Optimus can run?” Miko asked, changing the subject with ease and Ratchet snorted with a mumbled “fragger puts claw marks in the walls with how fast he goes”.

“We should do a race!” Miko yelled, grinning from ear to ear and everyone groaned as Bumblebee buzzed ‘is that where the claw marks come from?’

—

It was past sunset when Optimus returned a cycle later, his frame caked in mud and his optic wild and dilated. Ratchet gently pulled him aside to the medical berth for the first in a long time. He gently soaked an old towel that he had found in the base, warm water and a dash of soap and busied himself with Optimus’ armour as he sat on the berth.

There was silence for a few clicks, only the sound of dripping water and clicking joints until Ratchet mumbled a soft “Miko wants to organise a race”.

It took a small number of clicks before Optimus asked, his voice box crackling after a few days of being unused “with who?”

Ratchet chuckled, making sure to keep his voice low so as to not disturb the other resting autobots “with you”.

“Me?” Ratchet hummed and smiled as Optimus echoed the sound.

“Have a night to think about it of course” Ratchet rinsed the towel, grimacing slightly at the murky colour of the water before continuing “But personally I don't think Miko will even remember she asked it the next time the kids visit”. Ratchet bit back a smile as he chipped off the dirt specks from Optimus’ face, the mech scrunching up his faceplates in silent retaliation.

“We don't have much to do tomorrow anyway” Ratchet placed the bucket and towel on the side of the table and turned towards the larger mech “get some rest” he smiled “medics order”.

—

Miko danced along the side of the road before making her way towards the middle, doing some sort of air guitar before bringing up the microphone to her mouth “Roll up, Roll up to the Bot 5 million!!” Miko yelled into the microphone, and everyone winced as it screeched whilst Miko decided that hitting it on the side would make it stop. Not even half an hour ago Miko had asked Optimus to a race as soon as she had entered the base after school (skipping detention as always).

He was however in the middle of a meeting with Agent Fowler at the time and the man nodded nostalgically explaining how he used to go racing with his father in ‘the old days’. Miko smiled blindingly as Optimus shrugged and agreed (anything to get him out of meetings, he preferred it much better when he would just wait outside whilst Alpha Trion dealt with the statistics)

Miko cheered and ran off to find Bulkhead and Raf (and Bumblebee) to rope them into this.

It was only when they had all gathered in the common area of the base that Jack and Arcee arrived in tow with Mrs. Darby. (Miko forced them to all be in the race).

“I don't think that’s a good name for the race” Raf called out from Bumblebee’s driving seat “we haven't been racing for 5 million years anyway”.

“Okay, yeah well i'm sure the Autobots have” Miko waved dismissively and Bumblebee let out a loud beep ‘how old do you think i am?’ as Raf snorted with laughter.

The landscape stretched as far as the eye could see, large sandy rocks scattered the sides of the road as the horizon bubbled with the heat of the July air. Ratchet sat on a nearby rock, quietly observing so that nobody would get hurt and chatting (gossiping) with June, who had positioned herself next to him.

Bumblebee, who had decided to take up the left half of the road, revved his engine loudly as Raf giggled in the driver's seat. Beside him Arcee stretched out her servos, she had taken up the mantle of running the first race on foot as it would be good for exercise. Jack, following this statement, begrudgingly asked Bulkhead if he could ride with the larger bot and Agent Fowler.

Miko would have been saying the starting times anyway so Bulkhead agreed as he revved his engine beside a grinning Arcee. Optimus had taken to running on his pedes as it seemed the most comfortable for him. If anyone asked him he would say that he was doing it for the training. A secret part of him, a deep and small part of his spark, remembered running like this with some of his younger packmates. Memories were blurry but the emotions were as clear as shards of glass. However, when he used to shuffle through these emotions, the edges cut through his spark like claws so eventually he stopped trying.

“Three!” Engines revved and Arcee dug her right pede into the ground.

“Two!” Miko giggled into the microphone and Optimus felt his processor go blank. The road stretched for miles, there were so many rocks to jump on.

“One!…” The world seemed to stop for a moment.

“Go!!” —

Arcee stopped after three rounds, her pedes hurt and the ground looked so comfortable compared to the dirt road.

Bumblebee, although he liked a good race, he much preferred to race against someone who could match his speed a bit more (he wasn't including optimus when he explained this to Raf) The yellow bot also much preferred not to be a cybertronian themed sick bag when Raf decided to start looking a bit peaky after the fifth round.

Agent Fowler had decided to give up his seat to Miko and instead do the countdown after the first round, complaining that he ‘Wasn't as young as he used to be’.

Bulkhead and Miko soared through the rounds, loud rock music playing from the bots radio as Jack had decided to ditch at round four to go and check on Arcee. For a while the only ones on the track were Optimus, Bulkhead and Miko who went up and down for Fifteen rounds until Miko admitted that she felt a bit sick after the spinning and decided to go and grab a water bottle and a cucumber sandwich that June had packed for the kids.

Ratchet had done similarly but with energon goodies and some rust sticks he’d manage to find.

Optimus, however took great pleasure in the clear roads, speeding up and down them with a speed that seemed unreal for a bot his size, the kids cheering him on from the sidelines, Bumblebee buzzing in admiration and Ratchet chuckled to himself as he watched Optimus steadily grow a bright beaming smile. At that moment he didn't look like Optimus, the great autobot leader of cybertron. To Ratchet, that moment was filled with memories of warm nights in Iacon, the dimmed lights of the medical sections and the view of the city below him. To him, he was neither Optimus nor Orion. He was something rich and wild, tired of the ropes that bound him to society. Tonight though? Tonight he was cut, unbound and free.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

I read your submissive Scud post and it literally had my foaming at the mouth. I was wondering if you would expand on that? (Especially the pegging part💀)

Thank you!! You’re awesome!!! I love your work!!

THE PEGGING THE PEGGING THE PEGGINGGGRAAAAHHHH 😝🎀🔥🦅🦅

We’re both foaming at the mouth okay I get the urge to fuck the shit out of him every hour of the day its not a want its a need I desire that I NEED THAT

Anyone who says Scud wouldn’t be into pegging needs to immediately get their eyes checked. That is a cock lover in the flesh. Like i’m telling you guys he loves to just get bent over any surface and be completely stuffed.

This brings me to my secret headcanon abt him, I firmly believe that he’s been double stuffed before. Maybe he bumped into some hot guys on a mission who he totally didn’t lure into the back of his van for them to literally ruin him, and he totally wasn’t getting his little throat and ass destroyed on all fours. Wrong guy. Not him. Never ever.

Now let’s not get it twisted Scud still loves women. Thing is, his cock has always had a lot more nerve endings than the average male, so he cums fairly quickly, but don’t worry because all of Norman’s characters come pre-equipped with pussy eating powers. And Scud is pussy eating machine. He wants it for breakfast lunch and dinner. He has to be forcibly removed and pried away before he thinks about stopping. The jaw cramps just means that hes doing the damn thing.

Back to the original topic.. When you first brought the idea up to Scud, he had absolutely no fucking clue what pegging was, until you dumbed it down for him, to which he almost immediately agreed. Getting his back blown out by a literal goddess? Umm, somebody better sign him up twice.

Now again, Scuds cock is a tender one, and good boys dont need to be cumming after a few thrusts, so you cutely and quietly stop that from happening. How?

“What’re ya tying?” Scud mumbled against your lips as he you looping something around his balls and the base of his cock, jerking slightly when you pulled the ribbon tightly, tying it into a small bow. “Just something special for you” You kiss him, and he needily kissed back, dick twitching from your gentle contact.

Scud gets very, very turned on by kisses. Especially ones that are deep and sloppy with lots of tongue and spit. He gets so drunk off them and it’s the easiest way to get him to submit, because lord he’d do anything you say just as long as you keep kissing him.

Okay the actual pegging part, Scud is not the foreplay type. He physically cannot take it and needs pleasure as soon as he can get it. He’ll whine and squirm as you finger him open, babbling out begs for you to hurry.

He likes to be fucked as if he were a literal ragdoll. Please pound into him as hard as you can, he needs it. He needs to be a moaning mess on the desk. Also Scud is so. fucking. loud. His whimpers and whines bounce off the walls for everyone to hear, and while yes kissing does work, yanking back on his choker works a lot better.

Scud has a choking kink to the max. A very dangerous one at that. He likes to be almost strangled, racing between his orgasm to see if he would cum or pass out first. His choked off gasps and sobs only get him fucked harder.

Oh and the ribbon. The amazing ribbon. When Scud’s orgasm starts to build, he can feel it in his gut, tingling in his toes and shooting through his spine, so close, getting closer and closer yet never quite falling off the edge. It starts to hurt, his dick starts to painfully twitch at the lack of release, whining loudly as you continued rocking into him, a smile pulling your lips. “Hey Scud. Wanna see how cool my cock is?”

He mumbles something out, lips glossy with spit as a small puddle started to form on the table. You fished a remote out from your pants pocket, clicking once, twice, glancing up to Scud’s twisting face. You swiftly pulled your hips back, leaving only the buzzing tip of the dildo before completely burying it all back into your boyfriend, pressing right into what you knew was his sweet spot from the lewd and loud whimpers that Scud couldn’t stop from coming out, each thrust sending his eyes so far into the back of his head.

Scuds cock ached, orgasm building so rapidly once again as you fucked him stupid, turning his brain into nothing but the sex clouded mess that it was made to be. When you amplify the vibrations speed, and it makes each snap of your hips pump pure ecstasy into his body, and he just needed so much more.

“Please, mmngh, please let me cum mommy, please fuck me so hard and let me cum,” He babbled, whimpers and moans tearing from his chest when he felt you increase your pace, skin slapping skin. “Is this what you want, hm baby? To be fucked like the dirt slut you are?” You cooed, leaning down over him. Scud brainlessly nodded against the table, choking on his words as he spoke. “Yes! Want mommy to pound me so deep- so, very fucking deep!” He gasped, shaking like a leaf when he felt the you pulling the ribbon loose, almost sobbing when his orgasm crashed over him finally, cumming harder than ever. You fucked him through it until he was twitching and whining, actually you fucked him until he came again, high moans spilling past his lips with every buzzing thrust to his sweet spot, so overstimulated and sensitive yet you just kept going.

Scud could barely keep his eyes open, groaning which each slap of your hips. You fucked him like he was your own sextoy, pulling orgasm after orgasm from him until he would just collapse, so used and destroyed. His toes curled at a particularly hard thrust, choking in surprise when you suddenly yanking his head back by his choker, holding him down onto your vibrating cock pressed blissfully into that bundle nerves inside him. Scud choked his moans and cries out, desperately rocking his hips as his third orgasm raced off the edge. Oh God, he was so fucking close, vision starting to turn black and his ears ringing as he practically fucked himself on your strap, orgasm slamming into him–

“Scud? Y/n?” Blade’s voice rang out from the hallway, and you quickly pulled out and away from Scud, who gripped the table as his orgasm continued washing over his whole body, bitting down on his lips as he muffled a pained yet so pleasured sob, hips thrusting into the air as ropes of white shot out from his swollen and totally untouched cock, “Fuckin’ hell Scud” You grumbled, shutting off the dildo and having to just stuff it in your underwear, pulling your pants up quickly and searching for anything to wipe up the mess you’ve created.

Blade approached the workshop, steps echoing throughout. You groaned when you couldn’t find anything, and settled for wheeling a chair ontop of it, shoving Scud in it so his still halfway exposed bottom was covered, leaning against the table as if everything was totally normal.

The man swung the workshop door open and lingered at the top of the stairs, staring down at you and Scud with a questioning face. “What are you two doing?” You shrugged, responding with a casual “Nothing.”

Blade’s eyes landed on Scud, who was still very visibly fucked out, eyes droopy and lust riddled, hair pushed back and messy, not to mention the bruises forming on his neck from his choker being pulled. “Mhm. Whenever you get done doing ‘nothing’, come find me” He spoke flatly, before turning and exiting the room, shutting the door behind him. You sighed in relief, glancing down at Scud and his ruined state.

You leaned down, tilting his head up to kiss him on his glossed lips, smiling playfully. “I am not done with you, Scudster”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I got a little carried way I just need. I need. I need him guys.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[ailithnight]

*Whoops. Forgot to title and link previous chapters. Fight me, I just woke up.

A King in Arkham

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

"Tim. Tim you have to get me copies of this footage." Tim is not surprised by the request. In fact, the 'Sure' is already on his tongue when he pauses, a thought creeping into his head, seeded by the notification Tim really hopes Jason isn't paying attention to in the bottom corner of the computer.

"One condition."

"Fuck you, I knew you'd want something. What? You want my cookies? Coffee? For Red Hood to go on camera singing praises for Red Robin? I'll fuckin do it. Just send me the god damn clips."

"Nope, nope, and tempting, but no."

"Name your price, Replacement. I'll pay it."

"Swear you aren't going to go rush in and extract the kid until we're done investigating him."

"What!? Fuck that! I told you was pulling him out next chance I get!" Tim lets himself groan in annoyance.

"Look, anyone that could do that-" Tim gestures to the part of the screen where they'd pulled up The Joker's medical reports following the incidents, showing pictures and descriptions of just how thoroughly Daniel had beat his ass 3 weeks in a row, "without getting so much as a scratch or fucking bruise in return, has got something going on. There may well be a reason they sent him to Arkham!"

Jason's eyes narrow at Tim as he all but growls, "No reason is good enough to put-"

"A fifteen year old in Arkham. I fucking know that, Hood. But we still need to know exactly who we're dealing with when we get him out. What his deal is. If his dangerous. What the hell was so wrong with him that someone thought it was a good idea to stick him in there to begin with."

"He could get hurt while we're sitting on our asses trying to satisfy fuckin Bat paranoia!"

"He took down the Joker! Clearly he can take care of himself."

"Then who has been hurting him!?"

"Maybe him fucking self!" Tim knew he was pushing it. The green growing stronger in Jason's eyes was proof. But he needed to buy them some time before Jason made thing exponentially harder by storming the castle. Still, now he needed to calm Jason down before he went into a full rage. So Tim held up his hands placatingly.

"A few days, Jay. Just give us a few more days. I'm already almost through the Arkham reports, and there are only a handful from Chicago and Oracle is probably going to announce any minute now that she got through the communications blackout around his home town. We just need a bit more time to sort out intel so that we actually know how to help him once we get him out."

Finally, after a tense 34 seconds, green fades back into blue and Jason let's out a heavy sigh.

"Fine. But I get to tell the Bat about Daniel's discipline slips. Wanna see his fuckin face when I do."

"Deal." Tim hurriedly puts a comm in as Jason watches with narrowed eyes.

Batman.

Red Robin. Ready to fill me in?

Not yet, you're about to be busy. I isolated a pattern earlier. Exactly 15 minutes before the locks malfunction, there's been a strange power surge. Always written off. But the surge doesn't seem to be coming from the grid. And like I said, exactly 15 minutes later is when the locks malfunction.

Jason huffs as he catches on. Apparently he hadn't thought to question why Tim was so desperate to buy time before.

Robin responds, since he's on stakeout with Bruce. Mostly because Bruce won't let him watch the asylum alone. Much as the kid hates it, the rest of the family agrees. It's only a matter of time before someone in max security manages to take advantage of theses malfunctions. So far Croc is the only one who had, though thankfully he's not one to start shit on his own. But with Joker, Scarecrow, and TwoFace all inside; any one of them, or god forbid all three, could make for a real bad situation.

Tt. So you can tell before a malfunction happens.

Think so. Last power surge was 8 minutes ago.

And you are only telling us now, why Drake?

Codenames.

Cause he spent those 8 convincing me not to go get our kid out yet.

6 minutes. See if you can stop things before they start.

I'm not far out. Want me to join you?

Tt. I doubt we'll need your assistance, Signal. We shall be done before you get here.

No wait. Signal, head in. See if you can get a read on 26B.

You think he might be meta?

Hood?

Jason glares at Tim betrayed.

"I wanted to see his fuckin face."

Tim just waves him off.

"They need to know. You tell them or I do."

Boys

Jason scowls, but relents.

He put the Joker in the infirmary on his 1st, 7th, and 15th days there. All 3 times took no damage himself. Feral child had to be pulled off and still didn't stop struggling till the clown was out of sight.

All 3 assaults followed by panic attacks, though whether about the Joker himself or what Daniel had done to him, we don't know yet.

The comms were silent for a moment.

A 15 year old...

Did what you've never had the balls to old man.

...I've fought the Joker.

Daniel hits first.

Hnn

I will admit, it is impressive that he can take the Joker down alone. Perhaps he will make for a worthy brother after all.

4 minutes.

We're moving in. Thank you Red Robin, Hood.

The fuck are you thanking me for?

For helping. And giving us time to work this out.

ETA 7 minutes out. Be with you shortly.

.

The advanced warning proved invaluable for Batman and Robin. After alerting the chief of security of their supposed pattern, he had guards already in motion when the doors swung open. Batman took a perch to watch for max security escapees while Robin assisted the guards in keeping inmates corralled. Many didn't even bother to leave their designated areas, having already seen the Bats in the building.

No sign of any max security inmates. Normally, Batman would find this concerning. And while he did file it away to ponder later why no one from max security ever seemed to make it out of that wing, for today he counted the blessing that he would not have to try to keep Robin safe while dealing with someone like the Joker.

Batman tracked motion through the crowds, watching as a black mop of hair moved, seemingly otherwise unnoticed, through the sea of people. He thought to move in to direct the person back towards where people were being herded to, but the small figure merely walked towards the B wing and entered one of the far cells. That gave Bruce a sneaking suspicion of which patient that was. He moved to get a closer look as Signal swooped in.

"Where is he?"

"I believe he just went into his cell. This way." Batman led Signal to the cell he'd seen that tiny person enter. It was indeed 26B and there was indeed a small, too small, frail looking boy lying on the bed there. A red blotch had appeared under his left eye even though Bruce was certain there had been no injury there as the boy had crossed the hall.

Signal froze beside him, breath stuttering. The boy briefly glanced at them through the corner of his eye, mouth twitching into a brief frown. Then his eyes turned back to the ceiling and his face smoothed out. Bruce couldn't help but reach out.

"Hello." The boy said nothing. Signal opened and closed his mouth, seeming to try to say something, but unable to get words out. Batman wondered what he must be seeing. "You seem hurt. Do you need help?" Eyes flickered back to him and away just as quickly.

"Nothing you can help with Mr. Batman." And oh, how Bruce hated the kid's voice. So quiet and so so hollow. Bruce's mind flashed to his children, imagining any them speaking with such emptiness. His heart clenched, wondering what could have happened to this boy to have snuffed the life out of him so young.

Duke found his voice again, just as the doors buzzed and swung shut again.

"What are you?" Bruce frowned, looking at his latest. Who was looking, as Bruce tracked his gaze, not at Daniel but at the space just above him. Daniel himself seemed to take interest all of a sudden, breaking away his upward gaze to roll his head and look at them. Confusion plain on his face, the first hint of life shining dimly in his eyes.

"Signal? Signal, what do you see?" Batman asked. Robin materialized beside them. The daytime hero stepped forward, then back, light sparking and fizzling around his fingertips.

"There's something in there with him."

Daniel looked back up, where Signal still had his gazed trained on something Batman couldn't see. Even Robin seemed confused, though he no doubt trusted Signal's meta sight.

"Don't worry," Daniel murmured, "S'just a ghost. She can't hurt you."

This 'ghost' seemed unhappy either with the teen's words or this turn of events. Daniel's head snapped back to the side again, causing Batman and Signal to wince while Robin watched stoically. 4 red scratches appeared on Daniel's right cheek, as though he had been backhanded by someone with clawlike nails. A light chill brushed through him and Signal tensed, then relaxed, his gaze finally turning from the emptiness above Daniel to the boy himself. Batman took that as a sign that the... entity, was gone.

Daniel did not react to the obvious abuse from an invisible assailant. He mechanically turned his head back, once more dead and glazed eyes returning to the cracks in the ceiling of his cell. "You should go now. The guards will come around soon to make sure I'm still here."

Bruce wanted so badly to say 'Don't worry, we'll get you out of here.' But Batman was more restrained than that. He would get the child out. But he would have a plan first. For now, Bruce placed a hand each on the shoulders of Duke and Damien, guiding them away. Only when they were back outside did Bruce let them go. Only when they were perched on a rooftop half a block away did Batman pause.

"Robin, report."

"No escaped inmates and no sign of any from maximum security."

"Good. Signal, any information on what you saw in there." Duke rubbed at his eyes.

"A ghost, I guess? I don't know. It was weird. She didn't really have an aura. It was more like, an absence of aura. Like she was a black hole, drawing all the light in."

Even behind the domino, Bruce could tell Damien rolled his eyes.

"And what of the patient, Thomas? Was he not the one you were sent to look at?" Batman bit back the reprimand for codenames, more interested in Signal's response. Signal seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head.

"He definitely had a pretty distinct aura. It... felt powerful. But it looked weak. Dim. When the ghost... struck him, it flared up a bit, but died back down almost instantly. I... I get the feeling he was holding it back. Almost like he was afraid of it. Of himself."

"Hnn. Good job Signal. Robin. You two are welcome to head back to the cave. I'll take the rest of this Arkham shift."

At that moment, the comms crackled to life.

Actually B, you may want to come in, also. Arkham should be fine. And I found why they sent the kid there.

[rapidhighway]

the way I was introduced to dc was teen titans in which nobody ever uses their secret identity ever. They never use their names, only their pseudonyms and that has stuck with me for some reason. Idek if they know what Robin looks like. Robin is Robin, Starfire is Starfire. Stop calling him dick grayson stop deadnaming him

[valengory1234]

More Fanfiction for Red xChloe

Red awoke with a start and found a dark figure looming in front of her bed. Fear shot through her as she cried out and searched for her bedside lamp. Not finding it where it would normally be, she realized she was in her dorm at Auradon Prep. How was her mother here? She was supposed to be back in Wonderland, what was she doing at the foot of Red’s bed? Her mother showing up unannounced was never a good thing. Red was trembling, thankful for the darkness that hid her. She tried to calm her nerves as she called out.  

“Mom?” The figure didn’t move. It didn’t speak. God, what was she doing here? Why wasn’t she answering? Wasn’t she supposed to be good now? How coldly was she glaring at her? What had happened to turn the sweet woman Red had seen just a few hours ago back to her old, heartless self? She couldn’t catch her breath, but tried again, this time louder. “Mom what are you doing here?” 

“Red?” the voice didn’t belong to her mother. It was sleepy and came from beside her in the dark. A light turned on and Red shut her eyes against the brightness. When she opened them, the figure was gone. Red shot out of bed and spun around to look for her mother. Hands grabbed at her and she stumbled. “Woah! Red, what’s going on?”  

A blue-haired girl held her by the shoulders gently. It was just Chloe, her pretty face marred with concern. Red looked about the room wildly one more time, trying to understand where her mother had gone, but there was no evidence that she had ever been there to begin with. This did nothing to soothe her, however as she still found herself choking for air. Chloe's grip on her became firmer. 

“Red, look at me,” the blue haired girl’s eye found hers. “Just breathe. Come on, in.... and out....” 

Red swallowed and tried to follow Chloes example as the princess softly chanted the instructions in front of her. It took a few minutes, but the red-haired girl was finally able to calm down. Relief and exhaustion flooded her, and she was almost glad for the other girl’s support as her knees buckled under her. Chloe led her back to her bed, and didn’t let her go until she was safely seated on the red duvet. She sat next to her.  

“Red, what happened?” Red didn’t answer. Chloe reached for her hand and tried to look at her again, but stopped as she jerked away. A small huff of impatience escaped her. Her tone remained gentle though. “Don’t pull away, I’m trying to help you.” 

Red glanced up at her before looking back down at her lap. She swallowed again, but no word passed her lips. After another moment, annoyance came over her face and she rolled her eyes.  

“I don’t know,” she finally said. Chloe tilted her head. “I woke up and thought I saw my mom, but that doesn’t even make sense because it was too dark to see anything at all.” 

She rolled her eyes again before Chloe had a chance to respond. “Whatever, I’m probably just overtired. I’m sorry I woke you up.”  

“No,” the princess flinched internally at her own harsh tone, but reached for the other girl’s hand again. She took a breath to compose herself. “You don’t need to apologize, that sounds terrifying.” 

“It’s fine.” 

“No, it’s not. Are you ok?” Red looked down at their entwined hands and tried to pull away. Chloe wouldn’t let her. Red still avoided her eyes.  

“It’s been a long couple of days, can we just go back to sleep?” The princess sighed as she realized she wasn’t going to get any further with the rebel in front of her.  

“Ok, fine, but we’re still going to talk about this in the morning.” She finally let go of the other girl's hand, but she stayed seated until she got a begrudging nod from her.  

The two got settled back into their respective beds. Chloe looked over at Red one more time, and found her frowning at the ceiling. She fought the urge to keep pushing though, and turned out the light.  

[the-bar-sinister]

"It's not our destiny," Rogers says. "Not mine, or yours."

Shanks is devastated.

"I'm not going to sail with you," Buggy says, "I'm going to be a captain."

Shanks is crushed.

He sails with faceless men on adventures that barely leave an impression. He is waiting. He is marking time.

The moment of destiny that is not his arrives. 

He makes a sacrifice hoping that it counts for something. He loses the last tether keeping his heart in his chest instead. 

Shanks sinks further into the bottle.

So this is destiny.

He is not the traveler. He is the path.

-

AO3 link

[courfee]

play to your strengths, but not by the rules

i've wanted to make little art pieces for my own fics for so long and on a whim decided to just start with this one, so here we are :)

[fortjester]

this is what i become when i have no ready access to fanfiction smh

[sunnylighter]

Posting this because I'm mad, but I really want people to stop soliciting me on fanfiction.net. These are just some of the ones I've been getting lately. I have done everything short of blocking all notifications from there entirely, which I don't want to do because some people still there actually still read my stories and give nice reviews. I want to keep interacting with them. I also get the occasional request to beta-read someone's fic, and I enjoy doing that as well.

But recently only 1 in every 10 messages from there were actually from people who like my work and want to talk to me about it. Instead, I keep getting messages from these fuckers and their copy-and-past little sales pitches. Usually, it's in PMs, but the most recent one was in a review of my fic. Considering this particular comment was on chapter 1, I highly doubt they actually read my fic. You can tell from how their messages are so similar and yet despite claiming to have read my fics and that they were great, they fail to mention any details about them. Were the characters portrayed right, if they like a plot twist I put in, a particular moment that was especially sad, or funny, or got them hyped? Nothing. Just, 'Hey, I like your work, buy my shit'.

I'm not even sure if there are real people behind these accounts. The account pages are usually pretty empty aside from linking their profiles on other sites, and maybe a handful of random favorite stories or authors. And all of them were new accounts started in late August of this year. Honestly, I'm pretty sure a lot of them are bots or some kind of scam. I wouldn't be surprised if any 'art' bought off these accounts were just made with AI.

Whatever the case, I don't trust it and really advise against anyone buying from these people. If you want commissions based on your fics, please research and reach out to artists yourself instead of giving money to these annoying snake-oil salesmen.

I love fanart of my fics. I greatly appreciate anyone who chooses to make fanart of my fics, and adore seeing it so, so much. But if I ever decide I want a commission, I will reach out to you, not the other way around. If anyone knows more about why this is happening and how to get them to leave me alone, please let me know.

[kacchanot-fucking-deal-with-this]

another episode of will i continue working on my fanfic or succumb to the tumblr doomscroll once more?

[ishomieokay]

I see a lot of people complaining about Homelander getting caricaturistic in the last season but I didn't really mind bc I honestly just see it as him becoming crazier and crazier.