#this is my first time doing holographic coloring

[royaltea000]

He’s like the worlds shittiest Madonna to me

[seelestia]

⟡ within your waking thoughts (there i’ll be).

⎯ what do they do when they miss you? how do they cope with yearning when you're away? { y for yearning ノ ordered by @floraldresvi! (sorry for the ping!) }

RESERVED FOR! ノ characters. aventurine, sunday, dr. ratio ft. gn!reader. { 1.3k words }

FLAVOR! ノ genre. fluff, slight angst (my apology to sunday lovers yet again), established relationship.

TOPPINGS! ノ tags. aventurine has his tech savvy moment, pre-2.2 sunday (heavy references but no spoilers), ratio has two phones (king of separating work & personal life !!!).

BAKER’S NOTE! ノ thoughts. a repost! bcs tumblr didn't like it the first time. hopefully, this one will be here to stay. thank u to vivi for requesting this ‹3

© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

in your absence, aventurine welcomes little thoughts of you that float around his mind with open arms - and the way he indulges them is by simply texting you. effective and efficient, there is a reason why the cosmos calls it the second most used means for long distance communication. what about the first? well, he would've opted for calling you with his earpiece if only his line of work doesn't require 90% of its usage time.

let's just say the idea of fellow stonehearts interrupting his conversation with you ruins the fun. besides, he has deft fingers; coin tricks aren't the only thing in his book, you know, typing a few sentences in one go is no problem at all.

but maybe, he is using that too much to his advantage . . . considering the “25+” staring back at you from your notifications every few hours or so. aventurine is truly, irrevocably relentless.

anything even remotely in your favorite color found within his vicinity? new message: Saw something that reminded me of you, you must really like crossing my mind.

an item he thinks would fit you well? new message: I got you a gift. Does it suit your fancy? [1 attachment]

reminded of how cruel fate is to separate you two for so long? new message: Haven't seen your face in a while. Fifteen hours are a total too cruel, don't you agree?

have faith that you will never grasp the true meaning of boredom when you’re apart from him. luck follows a man like aventurine, so do interesting events - remember how he won a vacation to a resort with one chip? he revels in telling you stories of his encounters while you're away. it is as if thrill revolves around him constantly. . . one wonders just how he fares living on the edge of it all.

(you, for one, are aware of his ways. he has allowed you to wander far enough behind his masquerade, after all.)

of course, texts on an illuminated screen can barely compare to seeing you in person. he prefers having you in his arms instead - but he'll live. solitude is an old friend of his, albeit distant and cold, aventurine can deal with its company every once in a while. at the end of the day, he knows you’ll be there when he comes home.

though, it's such a shame he cannot see your face when you're apart. the curve of your lips as you smile, the twinkle in your eyes with his reflection in them, and. . . ah, seems like he is making this harder for himself. maybe, he should consider buying that HD holographic communicative device on the market? his ears caught wind of some P45 officers at pier point whispering about it before.

it'll cost a large sum of credits but hey, he thinks it'll be worth it. for you? anything is possible.

(...him? clingy? well, guilty as charged.)

sunday’s self-discipline is not something to be underestimated. halovians are a species known for their enchanting voices, yet he feels as if he cannot spare any for even his inner thoughts. what an irony. his longing for your presence is persistent, tumbling at the edge of his tongue - but he is equally as, if not more, stubborn and so he swallows this yearning down instantly.

you are not confined to the dreamscape like he is, as self-imposed as that may be. sunday is aware of that, hence his first instinct is to keep quiet. the curse of sealing his lips till forevermore; watching you leave through the grand doors, letting his gaze fall to where your shadow used to be, savoring the last of your remaining fragrance from when you last bade him goodbye - all without a word.

(don't go, he wished he could say.)

is it a bad habit? “your voice shouldn't be used just to utter words that others want to hear,” you reminded him once. “it's also for you. it's yours.”

but even then, your words are akin to a faint whisper; muffled by the thoughts that plague his mind like a mist. he can't help how they fog up his reflection in the mirror, leaving remnants of something acrid that wafts in the air. something like doubts, sunday would know because he has dwelled in it for as long as he remembers.

you are outside, fluttering your wings in the sky and enjoying what it has to offer. does he have any rights to disturb you? perhaps, in his eyes, sunday views himself as a string tied around your talon, trailing all the way from the heavens where you soar to the humble ground where he resides. each time your absence compels him to reach out, it is as if he’s tugging on that string and dragging you lower from the height you truly relish in, from the height you deserve to be at.

(sunday believes that you belong to the sky, unlike him.)

so here, he shall stay and here, he shall wait until you return. sunday’s heart begins to grow cold - but the farewell kiss you've left on the apple of his cheek hasn't faded. its warmth remains, even when he brushes his freezing hand against it, it remains.

you remain.

(and that is enough for him.)

dr. ratio is a man with a packed schedule, so it's safe to say he keeps himself occupied particularly well. tasks at the intelligentsia guild are nothing short of demanding, after all. there are researchers asking for his input left and right, although some tremble while speaking to him even when he hasn't even uttered a word yet. ignoring that, he also aids in projects that require his expertise. last but not least, his students and classes which he takes very seriously.

(but be careful with how you phrase it — the doctor doesn't view them as distractions, no, he sees them as his responsibilities — saying the former might offend him.)

as you can see, he is perfectly capable of spending time away from you. . . .or at least, until it's time for a break and a part of that perfection chips off.

his office is quite tranquil, free from outside noise, just the way he likes. this place bears a similar purpose as his headgear, to let him focus in silence without disturbance - but he hasn't expected that exact silence to be this deafening. hah, how absurd! in what realm of possibility could silence ever be associated with deafening as an adjective? he supposes it could be a case of tinnitus. . . but veritas knows that isn't the case.

something's missing and it is, much to his dismay, you.

veritas has his standards. he prefers things to be set at a specific level - and this level of silence, one marred further by your lack of presence, is too low for him. he's getting too used to seeing you barge into his office with neatly packed sandwiches in your hands, a revelation he'd rather keep to himself.

veritas reaches for his personal phone, his work one left neglected at the far end of the desk. he considers making a call to you but the clock is ticking. tick tock tick tock, as if to hang the fact that his break is reaching its end over his head.

utilizing whatever time he has left, his finger gives the gallery app a tap. various pictures pop up on the screen; selfies of you with silly expressions, candid shots of veritas himself and some photos of random objects like your matching mugs. all of these were taken by you, of course. seriously, is this his phone or is it yours?

who knows at this point? he nearly lets out a snort, but that smile on his face is fooling no one. the doctor continues scrolling through his gallery, utterly content with just this until he gets home. to you.

(yes, yes, this still counts as keeping himself occupied. thank you for your concern.)

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated.

[obsessedwithmiguel]

Finally, home...

(If anyone knows how to change the letters' color and how to make the publication more pretty, please I'll apreciatte the help and advise. Also, this is my first one shot, so enjoy.)

Warning: None, just fluff.

You were at your apartment, resting on your bed, reading. You were completely peaceful, except for the lingering thought in the back of your head; when’s your husband gonna get home? As if on cue, a bright spiral of colours appears down the hall, Miguel walking through it. You hear his low sigh, his menacing but familiar footsteps in the living room. “Cariño, it’s me.” His low, tired voice calls from down the hallway.

You look away from the book and place it on the nightstand next to you. You change position on the bed; changing from lying to sitting. Your attention is focused on the door frame where you would see your husband. You had a ponytail as a hairstyle, your mane of hair looked in comparison to that of a lion. Your were wearing a black nightgown, it was a soft fabric but not silky. It had a small V-shaped neckline and the skirt reached the middle of your thighs. Your skin was slightly illuminated by the lamp next to you. Your eyes looked black as night, even if they were brown, the darkness did not allow its true colors to show. Your hair was disheveled; even if you had combed your hair. You pay attention to your husband's figure, waiting for him to approach and take a seat next to you. You could see the exhaustion in your partner's eyes and you wanted to do what you could to take all that stress and tiredness away from his being.

Miguel drags his feet as he walks into the room they both shared. Miguel looked tired, exhausted, stressed and drained. Dark circles adorned his face, part of his curls fell on his forehead and his face looked a little pale. He looked like he hadn't slept, hadn't even eaten. He had made you a small promise, which was that he would eat; be it breakfast, lunch and/or dinner. Although sleeping is already a bit complicated.

Miguel lets his weight fall on the bed. That side of the matress sinks a little due to its body weight. He brings his arm to his face; covering his exhausted eyes. He has migraine. Spending so much time looking at those screens, plus the lights from the portals, did not help with his situation. He had thought about it while he was still in his office. He had that internal debate of whether he should go home or just stay to work.

Obviously he had the idea of ​​staying. He had a bottle of migraine pills in his left cabinet. But his mind clicked: he was married and had someone waiting for him at home. His mind went elsewhere in an instant. The soft and delicate touch of your fingers massaging his scalp. Your soft lips and the warmth of your body. He needed it. He realized how lonely he felt when he wasn't by your side. He needed your touch, your voice, your being, your presence.

And there he is, lying on his back. His arm blocking the dim light of the lamp that adorned your bedroom. He didn't want to talk, he felt so heavy. His eyelids felt heavy, the muscles in his jaw refused to communicate the message he wanted to give you. He still had his suit on. It was suffocating, even if it was a hologram.

Your worried look increased when you saw his state. He looked vulnerable, something very rare to see. Your arm reaches for the button on the lamp and you turn it off. Miguel finally moves his arm away. Only his holographic suit illuminated the bedroom a little with a faint red light. You approach him, close enough for his hair to brush against your legs.

Miguel opens his eyes a little just to look at you. Despite the darkness in the bedroom, he could see you so clearly. He could see every detail, every feature of you perfectly. Lazily, Miguel's right hand reaches for his Gizmo. Deactivating his suit made by codes.

His brown eyes close for a moment: only to then open them and look into your eyes. Miguel rolls to your side; his head on your lap. His hands brush against your hips. A sigh of exhaustion and satisfaction leaves Miguel's mouth. No words were needed. You already knew what he was looking for. One of your hands begins to massage his scalp, while the other massaged the back of his neck. You felt Miguel's muscles relax on top of you, his tense body slowly relaxing under your soft touch. Miguel detaches himself a little, as if giving you room to settle. You look at him confused.

"To make you comfortable." Miguel murmured. His voice a little hoarse from exhaustion. There you realized. You settle into bed, lying down. When you are settled, Miguel lies down next to you. His head close to your chest so he could listen to the music that your heartbeats provided. Your hands continued to work their magic, Miguel's arms surround you but do not squeeze you.

Miguel felt at home. He had someone to love after so much time alone: ​​he couldn't ask for more. He normally doesn't let himself be carried away by his feelings, but your touch made him lower his defenses and let him show that side that he hid so much when you had barely met. That warmth and tickling in his chest when he was with someone. Oh, how he missed it. He was finally happy, he was with the person he loves, his everything, his home. Finally at home.

[moderator-monnie]

Artwork Made by @sonicexelle-junkary / @weirdozjunkary as a commission.

Sonic the hedgehog has been dead over over 200 years, however decedents of his friends still exist and live out their normal lives.

Including the descendent of his little buddy Miles 'Tails' Prower named Techie Kaboom, a bat eared fox who has had a few accidents in his mechanic shop.

Sonic might be long gone, but his face, his story, and his image still exists in the far off future and often is used to advertise products in stores using holograms.

And one day, one of these holograms becomes sentient and for some reason think's it's the real Sonic, the one true Sonic and rewrites it's own code to give itself freedom.

But it can't move on it's own, no he can't and as luck would have it Techie was passing by the store this hologram found himself at, and with a silver tongue was able to convince Techie he was the real Sonic and he needed help.

Techie of course due to his ancestor loved Sonic, hearing nothing but good things about him throughout the generations decided to trust in him, he was his hero after all and Sonic wouldn't hurt him right?

Techie sneakfully took the holograms admitter and stuck it into his backpack, and the two managed to get out of the mall without much of a fuss and all seemed great at first Techie and Hologram as he nicknamed himself would talk and work together.

But this was all a ruse careful planning and manipulation done by the holographic hedgehog and one day an 'accident' happened in the mechanics building one that required Techie to get a heart transplant.

And once the surgery was complete and the pair was alone again, Hologram would admit his true colors in his own word's he would tell him his thoughts.

"I am the real Sonic, I can feel it, you can feel it... BUT your not Tails, your not my little buddy in the slightest however you can be! And thanks to your new heart I can help teach you."

"You see... I hate what has been done to my image, look at what they've done to me, they are treating a hero and his friends like cheap things to advertise their stores, and I won't stand for it anymore."

"We're gonna make them pay and hey 'pal' if you want us to bring a new legacy to the names of Sonic and Tails... You'll do as your told, unless you want to suffer the consequences."

Hologram had full control over Techie's eye, his arm and now his new heart he could kill the fox anytime he wanted now, and he would provide an example of that by shutting of Techies heart for about 10 seconds before restarting it.

And out of mostly fear but also a weird sense of loyalty to Sonic and the image of him he had always known about, Techie agrees to help him, Sonic wouldn't hurt him unless it was absolutely necessary right? So if He got hurt it would be because he messed up, at least thats what Techie had going thru his head.

Sonic was a hero, and if he did something it was for the greater good, this was Sonic it had to be, and he'd do what it takes to make him and his ancestor proud of him.

This is an Au about this story, as Techie Kaboom and Hologram Sonic bringing destruction in their wake, but not all familiar faces are gone, Silver The Hedgehog is around and protects his future from the threat of the pair.

But will Silver be able to protect the future? or will it all be brought down by one Hologram and his 'best buddy' only time will tell in the Hologram.Bin Au.

This au has technically existed since march of last year, but I'm glad to be able to finally share it all with you, and eventually write stories for it and show you what is in store for our antagonists and protagonist.

[bird-in-the-space]

Echoes of the Unknown

You finish fixing the hologram projector. You join Bulkhead and Bumblebee along with Emily to refine its accuracy. The trip was supposed to be safe, but then Emily gets kidnapped by a Decepticon who looks like a spider.

Warnings: some mild violence, Emily getting kidnapped and Airachnid being a warning herself.

Chapter 15

-------------------------------

The day was surprisingly peaceful at the Autobot base. You were working on the hologram projector with Raf. After days of fixing, replacing damaged parts, and making final calibrations — you were at the breakthrough of finally finishing it. You were definitely going to thank Raf for all of his help in some way. 

“Alright, this should be it,” you said, closing the lid and attaching the device around your wrist. 

“Ready for a test drive?” you looked toward Raf. 

“Ready when you are,” he replied with his computer. 

“First step, input the code to scan your body,” he instructed. 

“Inputting the code,” you said as you touched on the cybertronian symbols. You understood little cybertronian thanks to Raf and Ratchet whenever they were free to teach you a few words. 

“Scanning,” you said as the device scanned your whole body. 

“Now push the button on the top to project the hologram,” Raf said and you did as he instructed. 

The device then started projecting, creating a holographic replica of you standing face-to-face with you. You felt excited to see yourself even though the color intensity was off and the hologram was flickering. You could easily tell that it was a hologram but seeing it work made you excited. 

“It worked!” you exclaimed. 

“Well done. (Name) and Rafael.” Ratchet gave one of his rare smiles. “I never thought I would ever see that little trinket operational again,” 

“It’s all thanks to our combined effort. But mostly because of your genius brain, maestro,” you said, extending your hand to Raf for a high five. He happily returned it. 

“Thought it's not fully perfect to be considered a perfect optical illusion. The coloring is off and the flickering will give it away,” Ratchet crossed his arms. 

“Those are not hard to fix. The device will only need more data to progress the hologram more accurately, but since we had to completely replace the memory core, it’s currently progressing only (Name)’s data,” Raf explained. 

“So, in simple terms, this little darling only knows how to stand at the moment?” you questioned. 

“Exactly. If we feed it more data, it can project holograms more accurately, and if we let it scan more of you in different positions, we could even make it move however we like. ” Raf answered.

“Not a bad idea,” you said. “So, I guess it's time to train this infant device into a trained hologram projector,” you stated, looking through the other settings. 

“Nerd talk,” Miko commented from the couch. 

“I think you need to give it a name. It sounds like work to constantly call it a hologram projector,” Emily chipped in while cleaning her camera. 

“Then—how about Holly? Seems simple enough?” you suggested. 

“Sounds good to me,” Raf shrugged. 

“Alright. We’re ready to head out,” Bulkhead said as he stood in front of the bridge with Bumblebee. 

“We are you headed?” you asked curiously. 

“We got an energon reading at this one place in Africa. We’re just gonna go there to check it out,” Bulkhead explained. 

“Africa?” Emily’s head perked up when she heard the name. 

“Hey, is there a chance I could come along? Africa is filled with many living wonders and I think it would be a good opportunity to do some scanning and train my Holly,” you asked, showing the device in your hand. 

“Sure. I see why not,” Bulkhead nodded. 

“Can I come along too?” Emily suddenly asked. 

“I need some exotic photos for my portfolio and Africa would be such a perfect start!” she explained, holding her camera. 

“Uhh…” Bulkhead was unsure how to answer. 

“This would help me with my assignment. So, please!” Emily pleaded with her hands together. 

“You know, I’m nearly coming for the same reason, so how about I watch over her while you do your recon? We will be out of your way and you do not have to worry about us,” you questioned. 

Bumblebee beeped, giving his approval. 

“Then… Sure. Come along then,” Bulkhead said. 

“Yes!” Emily cheered then ran down from the platform as Ratchet opened the ground bridge and you all passed through. 

After you passed through the ground bridge, you were surrounded by thick wilderness and plant life. You were intrigued as you had never been to Africa and Emily was already gleaming with excitement like a child on a Christmas shopping run. She already took a few pictures while you started scanning trees and different plants. 

“The signal is coming over there. It’s some distance away so let’s get moving,” Bulkhead said and you followed him and Bee out of the forest. 

While walking behind the two, you scanned what came your way and Emily took photos of her interests. You four soon arrived at a hill. 

Emily released a gasp.

“What?” You were nearly startled, then looked at what got her interested. You saw a pretty view of a large waterfall. 

“Victoria Falls. I gotta go take a close look,” she looked toward you. 

“How far are you guys gonna go?” you turned toward Bulkhead and Bee. 

“It’s right up ahead. It shouldn’t be too far,” Bulkhead explained. 

“Okay. I’m gonna go with Emily. Call us if something happens,” you said. 

“Be careful you two,” Bulkhead said as you went with Emily to take a closer look at the Victoria Falls. 

The waterfalls were lovely. Emily was completely invested in taking perfect pictures from where you stood while you scanned the different birds and animals that were there. You then tested your Holly, and it nearly created a perfect replica of one of the birds you scanned with the right color intensity and less flickering. 

“Nice. I guess training Holly is finally giving some results,” Emily stated as she glanced at the holographic bird. She then seemed to have an idea. 

“Hey, could you possibly make it stand steady enough? This could be a good chance to get a close-up pic,” she asked as she turned her camera toward the bird. 

“Isn’t that considered cheating? I didn’t take you for that type,” you looked at her with a ‘really’ look. 

“Nah. I just take the best out of everything. Let’s try at least,” she said. 

“Okay,” you rolled your eyes as she took a photo. 

“How did it turn out?” you asked as she frowned at the photo. 

“I guess holograms aren’t photogenic. You can see through it,” she said, showing you a ghostly image of the bird. 

“You know, we have been with the bots for quite some time now. It nearly feels like yesterday when they chased us and brought us to their base,” Emily said. 

“Yeah. It’s been really nice,” you agreed. 

“Have you given some thought about becoming an Autobot?” she asked. 

You hummed. “To be completely honest… I’ve been considering it,” you said. 

“Really?” Emily looked at you. 

“Yeah. There’s no knowing if their war will ever come to an end, but I could do small things to assist them. This is our planet after all,” you explained. 

“I wish I could do more, but I’m not a fighter, neither am I brave enough to face any serious action,” you confessed. 

“Says the bot who dared to go to a battlefield and shoot a con to save Miko,” she grinned, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“But hey… even the smallest actions can make a big difference,” she added, and you smiled at her enthusiasm.  

You then heard a loud explosion in the distance. You felt worried as that was the way Bulkhead and Bumblebee went. It sounded like a fight was going on.

“I wonder what’s happening over there,” Emily stated. 

“I think they might be in a fight. Should we check on them?” you questioned, then heard a beep from your comlink. 

“(Name). We engaged with cons. Return to base with Emily and call for backup,” Bulkhead instructed. 

“Understood,” You said standing up. 

“Come on, Emily. Time to go,” You said, but her attention was then caught on something else. 

“Look,” she pointed at something. You then saw what seemed to be a bird. 

“Let me take a picture of that one, then we can go,” she said, getting close to the bird. 

“Em!” you groaned when she already bolted toward the bird. “We don’t have the time. Come on,” you said. 

Emily carefully kneeled while watching the bird. She took a few pictures before something snapped and it flew away. Disappointment crossed her face before she then noticed that she was kneeling on something white and sticky. It looked like part of a spider web. She then looked up and saw a dark and purple cybertronian looking at her with a grin. 

She yelled when the webbing below her picked her up in the air. 

“Emily!” you said in panic when you heard her scream. 

You ran to the scene and looked up to see a female robot with legs like a spider in the trees, holding Emily in some kind of cocoon. 

“You will fit well into my collection,” she said, sliding her sharp fingers across Emily’s face. 

“Em!” you called out, pointing at the spider lady with your blaster. 

The spider lady hissed and suddenly shot webs at you. You avoided the first two, but your blaster arm was caught by the third, slamming you against the ground. You were stuck against the ground as the web was like a super clue, pinning you down. 

“(Name)!” Emily yelled as the spider lady took her away. 

You looked after them in panic before opening your com. “Bulkhead! They got Em!” you yelled while trying to free yourself from the web. 

“What?!” he replied. 

“A spider con got Emily and she’s taking her away,” you explained. 

“Oh no. Bulkhead to base! We need backup!” he called through the open link. 

You pulled hard through the web before using your sharp talons to cut through it and break free. You wasted no time in going after Emily and the spider con. 

It was not hard to track them as Emily’s screams still reached you. You arrived at the place where Bulkhead and Bumblebee were engaging with the Decepticons. The spider con ran behind the Vehicons as they rained blaster fire upon the two bots. Bulkhead and Bumblebee stopped when they saw Emily in the spider lady’s hands. 

You slid down from the hill to get closer but stayed hidden. 

“I will be taking your pet for now,” she grinned as another ground bridge showed up. You felt panic when you saw her run inside with Emily. The Vehicons followed. You quickly looked through your options and then took out your face plate. You still looked like them, so maybe you could… 

You then saw the last Vehicon run in and the bridge began to close. You set the faceplate on your face and ran as fast as you could toward the ground bridge. Bulkhead and Bumblebee seemed to have realized what you planned on doing. 

“(Name), Wait!” Bulkhead yelled but it was too late as you ran through the bridge as it closed right behind you. 

[lesbianslvt666]

hiii i saw that your requests are open🤞🏼 ok one thing i can’t get out of my head is reverse cowgirl with ellie ,, like we all know she’s an ass girl so i think she’d love it

Cw: smut with a bit of plot, birthday girl Ellie, StrapOn!(both kinda?) cum! and spanking and something more but i am too sleepy to remember

The night before Ellie’s birthday you were still struggling to find something to gift her, i mean is not like she has everything or that she was too picky with gifts, but you wanted to make it special.

it was her twenty first birthday and your friends couldn’t come over for a party (her birthday was on a Monday), you wanted to make her day happy still. Until Friday which was when the surprise party was gonna take place, so you needed something to keep her entertained until then.

You looked up from your phone, calling Dina for any advice, but as you were walking back to your place from work you stumbled over a sex shop.

“Hello?” Dina was calling for your name over the phone.

“I was gonna ask you something but i think i found the answer, talk to you later Dins” you hanged up the phone, didn’t let her even say her goodbyes and.

Your eyes scanned the place, small but fun.

Colored LEDs separating different sections.

The gay section had pink lights, the kinky section was lit with red lights and the lesbian with purple ones.

Aha!

Long strap on, two sided and it vibrates.

The pretty pink color paired with holographic glitter.

She was gonna love it.

The next day was hectic to say the least.

You called Ellie as soon as you woke up from your class, hurriedly getting ready and telling her how much loved her and to please save the day for you.

She did.

After the most excruciating hours of your entire college experience.

You finally arrived to Ellie’s.

She opened the door as soon as you nocked.

You didn’t waste no time, as soon as she was in front of you you started to kiss her, hands roaming up her waist to her back to her breast. The pretty gift bag hanging from your fore arm.

She closed the door after you, not once braking the kiss, passion tinting her every move.

Her hands naturally traveled all the way down to your ass, she spanked you once.

With all the force you could gather you separated from the kiss, action that made her groan in frustration.

“I have a gift for you babe!” You said, extending the bag to her, she took the bag and went back to kissing you.

You giggled at her eagerness.

“Please baby, just open it!” You said in between kisses.

“I’ll do it later, right now i want you” and before she went back to kissing you your hand moved to her neck, wrapping your hand around it but never pressing or squeezing.

“Do what i say baby, i know you’ll like it” your words followed by a kiss on the cheek, you walked to her room, removing one clothing item every other step until you both where in her room.

You completely naked, standing in front of her bed.

“You nymph” her words laced with amusement as she took the strap out of the bag, looking up at you.

No time was wasted, for as soon as she saw you all naked and ready she was already getting off her clothes, kissing you on the process.

She sat down on the bed, man spreading while her back rested upon the headboard.

The strap standing proud upwards ready for you, your eyes lit up in lust, crawling up to her, pretty tits bouncing with every move you made.

She couldn’t take your teasing any longer, manhandling you she took you up her torso, purposefully missing the strap, she kissed you while you where un top of her.

You body moving front to back to try and get sone friction, she was too good at this, she always felt this good…

But she stopped your moviments.

Handling you to now give her your back, strap ticking your pussy, she took the rest of the length and massage your clit with the tip.

Your wetness falling from your cunt down your neg and her mouth watered.

She inserted the strap on you, your pussy swallowing almost instantly, you were so needy, so ready to take it.

She gave you time to adjust, cock warming so deliciously, your juices falling to her own pussy, essences mixing with each other on her cunt.

“Can i baby?” Her words patient, lust making her body desperate.

“Yes fuck” you started to move yourself riding her so good with your bubbly ass bouncing on her crotch, the strap hitting inside tour tight warm walls and Ellie felt she was gonna go insane.

Her own part of the dildo inserting so good with every bounce, every move, the shape of it creating friction on her clit.

She spanked your ass every now and then but she was about to cum and she wanted for you to do so at the same time.

Her tatted hand circling, finding your clit and massaging roughly.

You went insane.

The pleasure so intense, both of you feeling like you’ll reach the pick at any second.

Ellie did first, franatically pushing the strap in to you (and herself) so hard she came loudly, filthy words mixed with moans and grunts and so you came after her.

Both rode your highs together. Before you toon off Ellie kissed your ass, pretty cheeks in display for her, so, might as well.

You giggled at her sweetness, falling down to her side cuddling her.

“Let me get you clean” she said trying to stand up.

“Nuh huh, stay here i wanna sleep” she laughed at your words, barely making sense.

She still stood up and cleaned both of you.

Laying down back with you she kissed your forehead.

“Happy birthday baby” your words almost indecipherable.

But she understood with her heart, you are her twin flame, her soulmate, her everything.

[lostyesterday]

There’s an ethical question in Star Trek I’ve seen several people here talk about that I’ve thought about a lot. Basically, what are the ethics of having a romantic or sexual relationship with a non-sentient holographic version of a real person? This issue is brought up several times in canon, but never dealt with well, in my opinion. The main canon discussions of this topic that I remember (and it’s possible I forgot something) are in Booby Trap (TNG) where Geordi has a very brief romantic relationship with a holographic version of a real woman he’s never met, in Hollow Pursuits (TNG) where Barclay presumably has romantic/sexual relationships with extremely out of character holographic versions of Deanna and Beverly, in Meridian (DS9) where a guy wants Quark to sell him a holographic version of Kira to have sex with, and in Human Error (VOY) where Seven has a semi-long-term romantic and sexual relationship with a holographic version of Chakotay.

So, first of all, I don’t think that any of those instances mentioned are morally okay. Booby Trap is the most complicated case morally speaking since, to my memory, Geordi didn’t intentionally initiate anything romantic, though he didn’t stop it once it started either. I don’t want to imply that what Geordi did is morally as bad as the other examples I’m discussing, especially since Geordi is the only character of color being discussed here and his actions are not really equivalent in intention or impact to the other characters’. As an episode, Booby Trap doesn’t seem to have a clear idea of whether or not what Geordi is doing is unethical. In fact, it felt to me as if that question wasn’t something that occurred to the writers at all (until Galaxy’s Child, but that’s a whole other thing and the hologram portion of it is arguably the least messed up thing there, so I’m ignoring it in relation to this topic). Hollow Pursuits does portray what Barclay does negatively, but I feel like the episode is much more concerned with the negative emotional effects this has for Barclay rather than for Deanna and Beverly. Meridian, from what I remember, is the only episode to portray this situation as definitively bad, and Kira is portrayed as justified in being angry. However, the episode is a mess in other ways and does not explore the topic with nuance, making light of it with humor when I think it needed to be taken more seriously. Human Error is in some ways the most baffling case here because what Seven does is portrayed almost positively, as something that is a potentially good step in Seven’s “social development”. Apparently, there is no thought given to what Chakotay would think of the situation. I’ve seen people suggest that the narrative and fandom treatment of Seven versus the other characters is a gendered double standard, which I do think makes sense.

But the problem here isn’t having a sexual/romantic relationship with a hologram, the problem is that the person didn’t consent to having their holographic image used this way. There’s obviously nothing wrong with having sex or a relationship with a hologram not based on anyone’s image, or based on the image of someone who gave clear consent to have their image used in that way. But using someone’s image this way without their consent is pretty obviously analogous to making nonconsensual porn of someone. Do the ethics of this situation change if the hologram is of a historical figure? What about a famous person who is still alive? I don’t necessarily have answers here, but I do think the situation can become more complicated.

And then there’s another factor to consider – is the sexual/romantic relationship the biggest issue here? In the cases of Hollow Pursuits and Human Error, Barclay and Seven’s simulations of the crew are much more extensive than just the romantic/sexual portions. Would it have been all right for Barclay to create potentially offensive and demeaning holographic versions of his crewmates if there was no romantic/sexual component? Would it be okay for Seven to recreate a version of every Voyager crew member and live out an intricate alternate life with them without any of their consent if she never had romantic/sexual relationships with any of them? Is it any less a violation of someone’s rights to use their image without consent for, say, a propaganda campaign for an issue they disagree with, or a story that portrays their holographic version as a horrible person? That second scenario is the plot of the Voyager episode Author Author. This episode seems to take the moral stance that it’s bad for the Doctor to use the images of his fellow Voyager crew members to portray horrible characters, but there are other questions it doesn’t raise. Would it have been okay for the Doctor to use their images without consent if he had portrayed their holographic versions positively? What is the line between an acceptable and unacceptable usage of another person’s image without their consent? Is it ever okay to use a person’s holographic image without their consent? Is such consent implied when a person agrees to holographic scans of their body? What exactly is one consenting to when they consent to have a holographic version of themself created? I don’t necessarily have answers to these questions, I just wish any of these episodes had explored these issues with more nuance. And I do think that it’s important to consider extending the question of consent here beyond sex and romance.

[respectthepetty]

Pride Petty Watch - LiTA (Sky/Prapai) 3/3

I'm watching Love in the Air for the first and ONLY time as part of my Pride Petty Watch, so I'm recapping my suffering experience. The previous recaps can be found here, here, here, and here. I made tea from Long Island *wink* and even though I am not mentally prepared for what's about to happen, I'm ready to finish this, so I can have a break from The Whores Horrors™.

*sign of the cross*

If I wasn't so upset at everyone but Sky and Sig, I think I would have really enjoyed the colors and the ways characters' positions showed power dynamics, but here I am, Bird Box-ing my way through the visual rhetoric.

Love really is blind because I feel Sky would stab Prapai if he heard Prapai call him "gentle" but Prapai has proven to not let reality get in the way of his vision.

I will keep repeating that when Prapai is good, he is the best. He is enamored by Sky picking out stationary. He is happy Sky remembered what he likes to eat. He is worried about Sky at school and his health. His flirty banter works in this setting. Everything is perfect (except Sky's shirt which I refuse to show because it got enough screen time without me adding to it).

How about we just stop here? Just like with Rain and Payu's story, this is a clear point that the story could end, and it would make sense, but noooooooo. The story needs TWO kidnappings because unlike telenovelas, apparently one was not suffice.

To think that Don't Say No was a choice for my Pride Petty Watch, but I'm here, suffering for my actions and watching Prapai forget who he slept with from his former roster. It happens to the best of us, 'Pai.

This is an odd comparison, but this is Last Twilight all over again for me. They just told each other how they feel with big declarations, and one hour later it all goes up in flames simply because the narrative demands it without it making any lick of sense.

AND WE ARE BACK IN THE RED!!!! This show gives me no peace and no relief, yet this time was less jolting because I felt it coming, and somehow him crying in the car repeating that it is happening again is more upsetting.

Get in, Slut for Christ! We're going to confessional, so you can pray for the sin of not taking no for an answer in a show full of people not taking no for an answer.

Not to stereotype, but you are wearing a holographic butterfly shirt, my dude, so what in the Lisa Frank bullshit are YOU doing in sex trafficking? You are not allowed on the Pride float this year, and if you dare to step on it, I will push you off of it and make it look like an accident AFTER I take the shirt off your body because you don't deserve nice things.

Prapai, you are better than this. You have displayed a mild sense of awareness regarding Sky, so having Sky breaking down right next to you without you acknowledging his pain is not your fault, but the story's, and I'm getting real salty about the way this plot wants me to like you yet simultaneously does everything to make me hate you. Was MAME fighting with herself when she wrote this?

Perfect example! Prapai has consistently followed up after the party because he knows something is off from Sky's responses, so he immediately questions if HE did something wrong instead of assuming it's Sky. He still sends Sky food. He goes by to check on him once. Then he brings out the burner cellphones.

As much as I complained about this behavior, it makes sense in this situation because it aligns with exactly who Prapai has been shown to be, a stalker (affectionately here, derogatory in previous episodes).

SO WHY WOULD HE BREAK INTO SKY'S APARTMENT AND READ THE JOURNAL?!

It's not even about the *thing* for me. It's about the lack of consistency for the sake of, what? drama? Prapai talked about swindling a key from Joy, so I'm not surprised he made his way into the apartment without Sky's knowledge, but for Prapai to use the key for this doesn't make sense with his previous behavior. Desperate times call for desperate measures, but Prapai has been desperate before and he consistently showed up at Sky's apartment to bother him. He tricked Rain into giving him information. He showed up ON CAMPUS to hound Sky. He sent flowers. Yet he does none of that here. Payu went to Rain's mama's house to hunt that boy down, yet Prapai doesn't get the same treatment. Payu got the opportunity to lock himself in a bathroom stall with Rain and sniff him after making a surprise visit to campus when Rain was avoiding him, yet Prapai must commit a crime to get to "I love you"?

And on that topic, the long break between Prapai stating he no longer liked Sky - while Sky was bursting with tears and started to cry harder - and Prapai saying he loved Sky was unnecessarily long. In fact, it was cruel. And as much as I hate Prapai's aggressive tactics and crass flirting, he has never been intentionally cruel to Sky, so Prapai ignoring Sky repeating "please, stop" again and again only to end with "I love you" doesn't work for me because that "please, stop" will rear its ugly head again when the ex enters the plot. Having Prapai do something very harmful to Sky who slowly crumbled down to the floor begging Prapai to stop, only to end with him doing something very loving and them smiling on the couch is an emotional beatdown that makes telenovelas jealous.

My boy Sig wasn't perfect because he defaulted to telling Sky to cheer up, but he asked the good questions, he let Sky stay with him as he worked through his feelings, he told Sky that Prapai loved him, and he told Sky to cry. He is a saint among cockroaches, and even though I do not believe in the institution of marriage, I would marry this man in a heartbeat and fully commit to the bit.

UNLIKE RAIN WHO IS NOW TRYING TO PROTECT HIS FRIEND AFTER HE WAS THE ONE WHO OFFERED UP SKY'S NUMBER AND APARTMENT KEY! I'm glad the story acknowledged that Rain's stupidity was pivotal to making this ship happen, so I'll acknowledge that both ships shift around yellow and blue as their love story develops.

---Episode 13---

I thought we were past this lighting and coloring, but this is a reminder that I'm in hell.

I completely forgot about the whole "Wipe Down" controversy in this show, and now I am fully judging y'all because out of all the SHIT that has happened in this show, especially in episode 13 so far, this is what y'all was upset about it? This was the battle y'all picked? The hill y'all wanted to die on was this moment? Y'all was mad because we were shown Prapai wiping down his partner as a basic form of care after sex? Prapai who stalks and breaks into apartments? THIS is the behavior of his that got y'all so riled up that you chose to write 2,000-word think pieces on and lower the show's rating on MDL with the long-ass comments?! THIS?! I hope your cardigans always snag, your soup always burns your tongue, and your glasses always have smudges on them because some of y'all do not deserve small joys or everyday whimsy. Shame on you, shame on your ancestors, and shame on your cow.

Prapai is checking that his helmet didn't hurt Sky when he hugged him, and I'm quickly coming around to the fact that "I don't hate you because you're problematic. You're problematic because I hate you the story hates you"

RAIN, NO!

I refuse to show this man's face or any of these scenes, but he is wearing a cross earring and the Sluts for Christ would like the record to state we do not know this man nor claim him, so we will be handling this situation promptly. However, we only need the ear, so if any other members of the delegation need anything specific, please add it to the Gay Agenda, and we will make sure to get those requests fulfilled in a timely manner. Thank you, and have a blessed day.

HE HAS A BRAIN CELL! HE'S GONNA PASS THIS COURSE!

Prapai just yelled at Sky, and I'm not even mad. This is where I'm at in the plot. Prapai ripped out the eyebrow earring, and I'm cheering him on. Payu stopped him, and I pissed. Prapai is rich. He will not go to jail. LET HIM MURDER!!!! He has already committed other criminal offenses, so what is murder to the list?! Mostly murder under these circumstances! THE CHARGES WON'T STICK!

SOMEONE BRING ME TAN SO WE CAN MORTAL KOMBAT THIS SHIT AND FINISH HIM!

"I'll cry for you" - My therapist will be sending you an invoice, LiTA

Chai, I knew I liked you. Your name is "Tea" and as a tea drinker, you have provided me the same level of comfort I get from a nice warm cup of spiced chai and I would also like you in my mouth. I fear you and respect you, so I know the sex will be fire and as the spokesperson for the Sluts for Christ, we have something you want, well . . . pieces of it anyway, so if you would like to exchange numbers, I can share with you any information I know perhaps over drinks . . . or under you. Whichever you prefer. I'm open to suggestions.

And commands.

Oh, thank God, I'm done! I am free. There is no more trauma to witness. Slytherin earned a point and passed the course. I never have to see him or these weather boys ever again!

*special episode pops up*

FUCK!

[starsfic]

Lego monkie kid

Can you do mixtape shipping?

It's Red son x Porty Mk

I'm thinking angst, red son trying to help Porty be more independent and/or cope with being a clone.

Thanks and have fun!

Porty had done a lot of things to separate himself from OG.

OG was a freak in the sheets, he knew that from shared memory, but he would wuss out at getting a tattoo or extra piercings. So Porty got tattoos of a disco ball and margaritas and some basic fucking roses. The disco ball hurt like a bitch with the fancy ink they had to use for the holographic coloring, but it was a hurt Porty loved. He got his nipples pierced and his lip pierced and even his tongue, enjoying how people's eyes were drawn to the glow-in-the-dark stars.

But Red...Red Baby had the best idea.

"What do you think?" the prince said, pulling off the cap to reveal Porty's new hair. "This is my first time doing hair, so I'm willing to accept complaints."

Complaining didn't come to his mind.

Red had done a great job.

His head was split in half, one half shaved to his scalp while the other had been teased and poofed into curls. Those curls had been dyed ombre, pink going into deep red. Porty had a feeling that if he went into a dark room, an invisible pattern would pop up in the shaved half, or his new hair colors would glow.

"Babe," he cooed, watching as Red's own curls flamed. "Baby," Porty turned in the chair and grinned at his boyfriend. He felt no shame in hauling him close and kissing him, the red stuff of his tongue piercing dragging against the roof of Red's mouth. When he was sure Red knew non-verbally how he felt, Porty pulled back.

"I fucking love it."

[just-some-friendly-fun]

✦ ᴀ ɴᴀᴍᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ ɢʀᴀᴠᴇ

: ̗̀➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ #: ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛ (OC x Canon)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: The days that follow after the dawning truth that befell Iacon, and the waste that had been laid as a result of the new leaders of Autobots and Decepticons have now stirred a mutlitude of reactions amidst the people of Iacon. Some feel betrayed and others angry over the lies they'd been fed their whole lives, and even some stir in denial as a result of their false Prime and all he'd done... While others bear a more personal wound after his termination.

■ ᴛᴀɢꜱ/ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: HUGE TF: One Movie Spoiler!! Major Character Death, Angst, Hurt, Character Grieving Over a Character's Death, Graphic Violence (Gore), Assault (someone gets a bottle thrown at them), Sentinel Prime & D-16 Megatron are mentioned, but only appear in flashbacks.

✎ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6,869

ׂ╰┈➤ A/N (if needed): Felt like putting one of my OCs into the emotional meat-grinder for fun, and also I'll post a song that I listened to while writing these, because yanno. Also, if I do need to tag anything else please lmk. This is sort of my rough first-time posting smthn like this, so lmk what you think!

▶︎ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: ᴍᴏʀᴀʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ - ᴀꜱʜᴇ

Three.

Weeks.

It had been nearly three weeks

Three weeks since the fall of Sentinel, when he had finally been shot down for flying too high where he should've never gone in the first place, and ended up crashing violently back onto Cybertronian soils as his plummet burned him alive and seared his frame.

Seared every part of his legacy, his influence.

His reputation and face once so boldly plastered onto every wall and holographic transmission, now torn down by servos once so welcoming and worshipping of their false God... Now turned to claws that dug angrily to tear off his face, his mark on Iacon, his history.

And maybe it was all deserved in the end, it really was--some way or other.

Memories of the day arrived in a constant fold, time and time again, washing over what little peace she had since the loss. It would often come to tear at her again when she had thought too much--and far too long on it, more than she was willing to admit.

Sunblitz wished she never did think on it sometimes, wished she hadn't been there during the execution, wishing that she didn't have the exact front row seats to his public execution that never stopped to remind her day in and out on what the color of Sentinel's frame looked like when his t-cog was torn out from him.

Or was it ever really his t-cog to begin with?...

Sunblitz's talons dragged further into her berth as it let out a weak scream from the metal to metal contact. Her pain bleeding into the desire to hurt what couldn't speak. To destroy something when her entire life had been practically wrecked in itself, the fault befitting more to the cup of her servos than any other.

She closed her optics and rendered herself locked in her own berth, her coffin of sorts, and waited for the rust to settle in, beginning first where her spark laid beating still--painfully so.

The flier tried to keep her optics shut tight, before re-opening them again, then closed, then open, a constant dance out of the darkness casted by her eyelids and to the shadows she casted over herself as she hid from the world beneath a tarp.

She was trying to furiously eradicate the memory from her processor core manually, time and time again as she writhed uncomfortably, merely pushing the recollection back only for it to have struck her back harder, running away and only to be captured and let go again.

✦ ✦ ✦

"No!.. No--!! Please! Please! Stop! Stop!" Sunblitz screamed, helplessly dragging herself on the floor, claws reaching to the open air as several of the golden death trackers and guards lay beside her in a heaping mess. Each of the polished plating reflected the appearance of her dreadful look as coolant furiously spilt from her faceplate to follow the tear-like designs already pre-made upon her looks, now giving them a real purpose, to no longer imitate for the sake of art.

Pain gripped at her very frame, seeping into the wires and plaguing her systems with a hot sensation that made it unbearable. She could feel the shock settling in as she pushed herself across the ground with the exposed axis of her legs, the exposed wires trailing along. She choked back a cry with every time the raw wound touched to the ground. Her legs were strewn about elsewhere by the hands of D-16, a cost of her duty--but by accordance to his views, a cost for intervening in this public execution.

No.

Not D-16.

Something far worse than Sentinel could've ever been in her optics. By the hands of a--a monster in his place.

She crawled pathetically with desperation, the pain of her missing legs searing through her sensors with every drag as she pathetically moved with desperation to stop D-16 while he lifted Sentinel into the air for all of Cybertron to see.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go... This shouldn't end like this.

"No..! No!! No--Please!!" Her voice rang shrill, a shattering pitch that went unheard. Sentinel was lifted higher and higher, the Prime's mouth agape once the silver mech behind him began to fasten his grip around one half of his body and then the other before a loud, sickening wail of stretched metal sounded in the air, slow and torturous.

"STOP!--"

A cacophony of limbs, wiring, and steel flesh began to split as the city of Iacon fell first to hearing Sentinel's choked screams of agony, followed by bloodlust-filled hollers and cheers below somewhere amidst the exiled. His helm tilted further back, his servos unable to stop himself from breaking into two as he was split apart by servos fueled with rage. This was the end.

Her optics had met to his, and every part of her screamed in her mind--get up!

GET.

UP.

But the painful truth took hold to her. She wasn't going to make it. She couldn't do a thing in this state but watch, helplessly with her optics torn wide open to remember this moment vividly, for the rest of her life. She should've looked away, saved herself the addition of another drowning tidal wave of pain until, for the briefest moment Sentinel had left, he spoke up, and out rolled a final lie to the world, to her.

"It's... Alright-" He choked, ".. It's gonna be okay-"

His words no longer existed, cut short, and abrupt, followed by a crash of metal and snapping circuitry, and wires that filled the air. It was still day and yet with every spark that flew across her vision and crackle of electricity, for a moment. She thought she was seeing the stars to the universe die out.

And then, she was no longer looking at optics lit with life anymore, as his body--a part of it-- fell before her and it took...

One.

Two.

Three flickers.

Before the rings in the lens of his optical receptors went out one by one, until he had finally been rid from the world, lips parted in a silent scream that Sunblitz herself couldn't have voiced for him as her vocalizer had been strained to its limit, leaving every choked cry to befell her to become agonizing.

Even when his death wasn't enough. Sunblitz lifted her helm to watch while Megatron proceeded forth, unsatisfied yet of his slaughter. He began to reach down, tearing open the chassis and into the chest cavity again to feast upon the rewards that lie waiting for him. Sentinel Prime was soon desecrated, robbed of the very thing he stole from another, Megatronus' t-cog now befitting to the new brutal revolutionist who preached to his followers below.

Her spark hammered against her chassis, the echo ringing in her audial receptors at the sight and she felt a stinging urge in the back of her throat to throw up, force everything out as her tears were the first to begin spilling from her in rapid streams. In her last morsels of strength, she crept forward, sliding close enough to pull what remained back to her, and to reap the scavenged remains, holding close while it was already beginning to dim into a cold, gray design. She held to his body, offering a warmth that was meaningless, pleas left unheard, gripping to it.

Sunblitz sobbed into the side of his helm and lifted it carefully off the floor and laid it against her, to find some meaning to the weight and to trick herself into believing, despite the odds, he was alive... Even for a moment, shredding her sense of reality just for a droplet of delusions. It didn't help when the weight had grown a smidgen lighter, cold.

She didn't know what compelled her to say it, but as her spark began to wring itself dry from the twisting threads of her own emotions, she spoke up.

"Don't... Don't you dare leave me like this, Sentinel Prime..." She silently sobbed, "Don't you dare... Go," Before burying her faceplate into the crook of his neck.

✦ ✦ ✦

An abrupt knocking came at the door, violently yanking Sunblitz from the cycle of pain Sunblitz had thrown herself within as she pushed up to her knees, her fore-helm against the berth. She waited.

"Sunblitz. Open up. You can't stay in there forever,"

At the voice of her carrier, Sunblitz shifted further into the blankets as if to hide from an unseen gaze. She was beginning to feel the tarp she concealed herself with grow taut against her wings. It tangled and snagged onto several nooks and crannies along her frame. A soft creak of her body became her only response, and in turn, another knock came harder than the last.

"Sunblitz." Voltcharge began, and from there. Voltcharge didn't have to start any further on her lectures or demands.

Sunblitz knew better.

So, with aching resistance, she slowly untangled herself and yanked on the tarp, attempting to throw it off of her frame but only stopped from her harsh throws and pulls once it snagged sharply on the parts between her arms and wings. A trickling sensation of pain seeped with the tight lock she found herself in, forcing her to halt abruptly.

She grimaced, forced to be gentle to herself as she searched her frame for the snag, and slowly unloosened the tangled tarp from the space in-between her gears, before resuming. Her fight became a loss. Her optical receptors slowly adjusted to the dark silhouette of her room, only illuminated by the slight crack that remained ajar by the curtain-covered glass wall that led out to the balcony of her room. She stepped out of her berth, and let out a ragged sigh, breathing in and out to make sure her vocalizer hadn't strained itself too much from the countless hours she spent in her vulnerability, wondering if the walls had been thick enough to conceal and keep her secrets in.

She hoped they were.

Heavy trudges answered to the door, she swiped her face-plate and reached for the input pad of her door, slipping the code with a few clicks of the keys before she came face to face with the older femme beyond, and a tray full of energon cubes stacked into a loosely designed pyramid, with a few blocks here and there led astray from the initial concept clearly. Sunblitz glanced at the appeasement gift, then to the older femme.

Voltcharge's audial finial twitched, and she slowly offered the tray forth, serving to her first patron of the day.

For a moment, Sunblitz eyed at the cubes, and then back up to Voltcharge in silent questioning, her vocalizer unfit to produce any real words just yet before the silent exchange ended with a sigh.

The older femme re-adjusted the positioning of her hold on the tray and spoke up, plucking a cube from the arrangement, "Might've over done it a little but... You skipped on refueling hours quite a bit ago, I thought I'd bring extra," She expressed, explaining to the design as it left Sunblitz to huff.

"... I don't need it," She said, internally cursing as her words began to drag with a prominent rasp.

Her carrier was immediate to the slight catch in her throat and the voice Sunblitz carried, before she spit-fired back a solemn response, "Like slag you don't," Before visibly liftening her sharpened optical ridges and softening her gaze. She bit down her glossa for coming off too strongly and to make up for it, a quiet "sorry" escaped her and she shifted her placement beneath the tray again, to selected one of the Energon cubes. She plucked to one of the cubes, the one from the very top now lying at the bottom of Sunblitz's outstretched hand, "... Just, take one, at least. You can't keep neglecting your health like this," Voltcharge spoke, with a touch of concern in her voice, her optics dimming to a pleading look.

By way of her weakened state and inability to deny the truth, Sunblitz couldn't help but begrudgingly sigh. She to the cube, placing it on her glossa as the conveyer-portion of it began to coax the cube into the back of her mouth and she proceeded to consume it under Voltcharge's careful gaze until it let up.

The older femme sighed with relief and her sharp gaze dulled to a passive look, her optics adjusting and brightening as she nodded at her eldest's compliance before walking off.

She paused briefly in her strides to look back at Sunblitz, tilting her helm in gesture once she noticed Sunblitz hadn't followed, "C'mon, come downstairs and help me get The Rewind up and at 'em, hm?"

Sunblitz huffed, "What's the point?..." Sunblitz remarked, Nobody's going to be coming here not after..." She trailed off, and pursed her lips, the fresh memories arising once again and making the sweet aftertaste of Energon on her tongue go sour while she gazed on to her carrier.

Voltcharge stared on and, she responded, offering Sunblitz another cube from the tray to goad her out of her room. Reluctantly, Sunblitz followed to pick up another Energon cube, and then down the stairs went Voltcharge who spoke between every step, "... It still doesn't hurt to keep it open for the people that still need this place. A place to come down to and rest, have a drink or two after everything," She advised. "The people need it. They deserve it,"

At that, Sunblitz couldn't deny the older femme's reasonableness on the matter. The idea of keeping The Rewind opened right after felt at some ways... Capitalizing off the conflicts as of late, but with the intentions her creator carried, it sways the thought.

Yet even then, Sunblitz wondered if the same could be said for her--whether the resolution would be just that simple, or enough. Her own mind felt like a mess, a steaming, hot pile of burning slag that not a cup of high-grade could fix or extinguish. Either way, she shook her helm to push her problems aside and followed dutifully after, syncing her steps to Voltcharge's,

"... Fine,"

✦ ✦ ✦

Slowly, but surely, Sunblitz had resumed to aiding Voltcharge in setting up the establishment, the floors were cleaned, booths and tables polished, and inventory stock was checked, and so on to make the space cleaned up just right to keep the welcoming atmosphere hanging. A few customers had arrived in soon, not many clearly as she noticed that some hung outside the entry point, some merely turning away when they caught glimpse of Sunblitz to mumble something beneath their breath.

She pursed her lips at the hateful gazes that came and go, but she didn't necessarily point and blame them for it, not after everything.

She looked back into the rest of the establishment after giving the bar top a firm wipe-down. The place was nearly desolate, mind a few customers here and there that laid in the far corners, drinking themselves silly and having a good cry into their mugs. Others had finally gotten some shut eye, slumped in booths and tables--only finding rest when the drinks had pushed and encouraged for them to submit to the need for recharge, ending their days of neglect for rest or previous inability to.

No words were spoken amongst what remained of her family, as she looked around. Voltcharge was working behind the countertop as usual, having wiped clean the same glass when all others were already accounted for, and Razorcase was helping check up on the generators and other technical areas of the bar--trying to keep his own servos busy to occupy his mind from the messy days. At some extent, Sunblitz had even begun to wonder how her other sisters were holding up after the mess... Or at least one of them, no... Both.

She didn't even want to think of it like that, and regardless she did, now her attentions lingering on the thought of Silversong, and how she was doing since her body was... Recovered from the rubble.

Her tank began to coil uncomfortably again while she gripped the microfiber rag and to the shelf she was cleaning now, her claws lightly digging into the material of the furtniture.

Silversong had known to D-16 far longer than Sunblitz ever did, and she almost wondered whether somehow or other if Silversong had any part to the slag-show that resulted in all of this. And even without the role for causation, she almost wondered if Silversong did anything to stop that monster from becoming who he was and-

She stopped, her servo gripping fiercely into the steel shelf, nearly leaving indentations to the edges. The teeth of her digits had carved up the paint and material, dirtying the golden tips.

Sunblitz stared for a long moment, peeling her hand back and removing the rag from the shelf to clean off the evidence from her talons before deeply sighing. I need to get out of here, she thought, internally fearful of harming something else now while in her moments. She abandoned from her post from behind the countertop, throwing the rag loosely onto the flat of the table as she passed by her carrier in a speed-walking motion, catching their optic..

"Where are you going, Sunblitz?" .

Sunblitz continued her strides, slowing them down a step to speak rather than abandoning to Voltcharge's inquiries completely, "... To... Somewhere, I guess to uh. To get my processor off of things, y'know?" She remarked, trying to keep casual, extremely eager to leave.

"Do you need me to come along with you?-"

"No!" She abruptly began, like an uncontrolled blast from a gun, her words came out too sudden, too explosive than she would've liked-- which now left her patting out the flames of where her words ended up striking, looking to the surprised bartender, as guilt briefly glimmered in her optics.

Sunblitz cleared her throat "No--I mean, it's... Fine. I..." She waved a dismissive servo, averting her gaze, "I think--I'd like to go alone," She said.

After a moment of awkward silence, she slowly pivoted on her heel and pushed to moving towards the door again"... I-I'll be back soon, I promise,"

"Alright but, stay safe out there," The older femme resumed, and just as Sunblitz prepared to leave the establishment, she freezed at Voltcharge's next remark, morally obligated to stop and go like a delayed clock--uneven in its ticking and pace.

"-And you know you can always talk to me, right?" Voltcharge hummed, "Or Razorcase or even..." She froze mid-gesture, her own words now carrying too short and dropping like a dead fly.

She had trailed off, and Sunblitz had already known painfully too well what she was intending to say.

Your sisters.

But that option wouldn't be available at this moment, not with the current state of things as it almost made her scoff at the thought. Silversong was the last person she wanted to talk to right now, yet the only one she felt tempted to reach to, to demand answers even if it meant to grip to her unconscious form and to scream at her from there, to ask what had happened when she had disappeared off with the group of miners and came back to all this. And as for Hightop? Primus knows where she's gone since all that had happened, having remained holed up in her room from time to time or either gone elsewhere.

Her family was currently a mess of itself, so to her. It only felt right to leave and find her own space rather than rely to her closest ties--not while they were like this--a conflicting tangled web of lies, and mistrust, uncertainty and cluelessness, to put it crudely.

"Yeah. I know," She said, more lenient to brushing off the offering more than anything to seek her own methods of peace. She began to resume her trek, looking to her side and reached out as she took to an abandoned bottle of cheap high-grade left behind by some sap she remember slumped here from yesterday. Before waving out at the door, "I'll see you soon, Voltcharge,"

With that, she bid farewell and shortly departed, having felt the set of concerned optics burn into her back, attempting to shrug it off as she disappeared out the doorway.

✦ ✦ ✦

"... Dirty traitor!"

"Lowly scum bag!"

"Wasn't it your job to protect us!?"

"Slagger!"

Sunblitz raised her forearm as a glass bottle crashed against her plating, wincing. Her forearm shielded herself from the shards that flew explosively in their own web of directions, fortunately none having entered in places she didn't want them to.

She opened up her optics devoid of glass--and made sure to keep them that way while she hurried off before another bottle could be thrown at her, narrowly missing her helm and into the wall she darted past.

The barrage of hostile messages barely relented with each step, wondering whether she should've just changed her passage route as it was beginning to become slowly more populated with bots who saw to her and thought,

"Now there's an outlet we can use. There's the one who was apart of this mess,"

Damn it all, she thought as she dodged poorly to a thrown can that nearly caused her to trip.

The group of various bots she had passed began to raise their volume with each advancement she made while walking away, wanting to remind her of her past with every opportunity they still had in her presence.

Sunblitz knew that she could've flown here, made it easier for herself had she taken to the skies but there was no longer any pride for her gift of wings. At the very moment, most fliers weren't regarded very well, considering that most of the fliers that once made up the population of Iacon were associated one way or another with Sentinel, some thought back to either the ex-High Guard, and Sentinel's personnel, now turned Decepticons or either dead.

Even if she did take the option, she couldn't put much trust that it'd be a smooth sailing without someone deciding to take her down from the skies with just one very accurate and emotionally driven throw of a tool or some other, so for now. She dismissed the thought and forced herself down this walk of shame, venturing on and taking to the strikes of cans against the helm, sheet metal and anything else that proved to be a rather effective tool to remind her of her regrets and faults for ever associating so closely with Sentinel Prime.

She wondered if he'd be even laughing or pitying her from where he stood in the afterlife by now.

Down the streets she went, down every road, and path. Her pede followed to very calculated steps, an internal route that she had followed time and time again to visit to the one place where she'd be able to find some quiet to herself... The one place where she truly could speak to someone freely without interruption.

She turned up around a corner and glanced around for a moment, having drawn out on the farther side of Iacon city down at the outskirts. She sighed, and trudged up to a particular space, twisting to one more corner, down a flight of short stairs.... And there, she found herself face to face with Sentinel Prime.

...

Or what was left of him really.

The intricate statue that remained of his head had been worn out, cracked in the side of the helm where it had its first taste of concrete after several of the miners down in the center of Iacon took it down from its shiny pedestal, the only recoverable part she could find in the mess of broken pieces of his limb and bod.

His faceplate adorned to smears, and scars, littered in desecration that aimed to ruin everything he found so perfect in himself. His jaw had been broken off too, ironic, to say the least--perhaps for the sake that he could tell no more lies. Even in this petrified yet solemn expression.

Beside it, there was his wings--his actual wings--clipped from the scene during his fight with Megatron. She even wondered how she had managed to find these in rather adequate condition, after her recovery, and after her makeshift trials with the new leader, Optimus Prime. She had initially suspected that someone would've at least made a grab for them to destroy and throw away or some other. Yet it didn't feel so much as a lucky find and more of a dreadful discovery that some part of him survived when the rest hadn't.

It was the only thing she had left of Sentinel to remember of him, not that he had deserved much of a proper memorial in the eyes of the people who once adored him.

Sunblitz almost wondered what they had already done to the rest of his frame already, probably melted it down into slag and then thrown away to be turned into garbage, some sort of tragic cycle of being used to be rendered useless again, or perhaps turned into something undignified, a crude design of his visage to remind all of Iacon the liar that had been plaguing their government for years... Or maybe her processor was all too forgiving, too kind, and uncreative at the moment to really wonder what happened and what they'd done to it, because most certainly, she knew that Iacon bore no kindness for being played like fools, nobody would.

Regardless, she took to the one thing she had left and properly arranged to the space again as it had come undone since her time away, keeping everything into place. His helm laid at the foot of a piece of debris, chipped poorly to make for a headstone. His wings leaned against the side of it, folded on the other instead of displaying proudly.

His name was once etched on the stone but became desecrated by her own golden talons, for the better--she thought. Otherwise, had anybody found the space she had been visiting to, Sunblitz was most definitely certain they would've just destroyed it completely, to purge Iacon of the traitorous figure.

The flier eventually settled, only after scarring to the stone obelisk again, making her... Seventh notch in the material before sitting down in front of it where she could face the decapitated stone helm.

She watched it, as it watched her, and with a deep sigh. She pushed out her first words to the open air,

"Hey," She greeted, with no mirth, and nothing short of forced casualty.

...

Silence.

As to be expected.

...

She slowly clenched her digits close and parted her lips, ready to speak again until... All the words she had, mingled into something else altogether, her internal script becoming unwoven by the letter,

"I..."

Sunblitz took in another breath, her ventilators whirling as her processor tried to find something, to untangle the words and make this as clean as possible, gripping to the lower end of her facial plate.

It shouldn't have been this hard--she's done this before.

She was speaking to a rock for Primus' sake.

"I--hff." She huffed, and tried again and only embarrassed herself further when a choked noise escaped.

Primus, she looked insane.

"Ugh...Hhhgghh---!!! Frag. Frag it all I guess! Let's just. Let's just roll with the punches," She expressed, miserably reassuring herself as she threw out her desired, clean scripts out her mental window, doing it the way she's always done...

Not like the ways that she was once used to, no.

There were no more cleanliness to anything she did, she wasn't given that option anymore. Just a mess, of herself and--everything!

"Frag it--frag it all! I don't even know what the hell I'm even doing here, talking to this--talking to you--I look insane!" She exclaimed, judgmental of herself in every part when the figure before her wasn't even alive for her to blame.

Throwing her servos forward and glaring at the Sentinel helm, she huffed at its natural indifference, "Y'know what? I bet you're all up happy--happy and prancing about in the Allspark right now, all giddy and slaggin' gone stupid with joy that you didn't have to fight bolts and nails to prove your innocence, huh?! That you didn't have to be down here like all the rest of us facin' the consequences of your own actions!" Sunblitz breathed, her chassis rising and falling as her anger steadily rose with the silence from the stone, pinching the metal between her optical ridges.

She was right somewhere, this was stupid--let alone embarrassing to be talking to this inanimate object that looked like her last partner albeit bodyless...

and... Jawless... And lifeless.

But, damn if she did and damn if she didn't--whatever she was doing. It was working in getting her to talk and so she persisted, sighing and grabbing to the stone head, holding it close in hopes that it would help burn her out soon enough in her tangents and hopeless rants.

"You don't even KNOW how absolutely fraggin' grueling it's been bein' around here and cleaning up after you!" She hissed, "... Telling and begging all of Iacon to believe me--me! One of the very closest people to you--you, who had to go and blow up everythin', and make an absolute slag show out of this entire thing!" Sunblitz exclaimed, shaking her helm, "I--I honestly can't believe it! Do you even understand how terrible it was?! To be looked at and ridiculed, to no longer make people feel safe around you when you swore to protect them?!"

She almost felt like throwing the helm out of her lap. Her digits wrapped tightly around the sides, watching as the material cracked slightly, breaking under her harsh gaze and even harsher treatment.

Sunblitz forced herself to exude once again, some extent of restraint, not wanting to actually break him despite the temptations that lied in the back of her processor to do so, to take and find some peace in destruction, as she always did, be it on herself or something else.

She closed her optics again, gritting her dentas and sucking in a sharp breath--then carefully dropping the helm back onto foot of the obelisk to keep it away from her talons, scoffing at it instead.

Reeling in her anger, she found the strength to speak up once more when she had the coherency to, forcing herself to drop her dignity out so that her whirlpool of thoughts at the moment would be better balanced and given light of this opportunity. She doubted that she'd ever get the chance like this to speak to him, to argue like she used to, to hear his stupid voice, watch his face crack with bafflement at her defiance.

This was her taste of reprieve and for her alone, so she'd be sure to relish in every part of the taste of it,

"... All of Iacon's struggling to process what you did still, half the center of the city is wrecked and we've got new messes arriving soon. There's... There's Decepticons and Autobots now. And... And they're being lead by the miners that--- you messed up, the ones that.. You.. You tore out their transformation cogs from?!... I mean, who does that and... And you lied to me! You lied to me this entire time and kept it secret--from me!!" She pointed to herself.

The decapitated head only stared and continued to say nothing.

Sunblitz huffed and shook her helm, not even understanding why she was getting so worked up about this statue-head not reacting, not saying a word, blinking, anything--and yet she knew somewhere, that some other. It was the simple work of projection, forcing all her emotions onto this single, lone block of stone that made it real enough for her to converse with--or rather simply fill the silent space around with her voice. Every echo coming back in her own words felt just right enough to make up for a conversation, even if it felt a little mocking and uncomfortable.

She didn't know if that made her more of a fool to the fact that she tricked herself into believing just enough that this hunk of rocks was him, or the fact that it was working.

Her thoughts lingered and delved now that she was alone and face to face with him, some part that fooled her just enough.

She thought back and swam in her memories, no, not swam--she began to drown in them and her own doubts, sinking further into the spiraling whirlpool of her mind before, bobbing to the surface again with an unsteady realization, "...Primus, how long have you been lying to me? For how long did you keep up this facade?"

Silence.

"... Was there every any truth to anything you said...?" She muttered in disbelief.

The stone-head continued to keep quiet, lips permanently sealed, and in her dying hopes. She leaned back and steadily pressed her knees up to her chassis, crossing over her arms and glared to the rock before averting her gaze as she softened her voice, spitting out bitter words that hold no better heat than to a firecracker, "... And to think you had the audacity to lie to me, and promise me that it would be okay..." She scoffed, "... Was this your definition of it being 'okay' then?..."

...

Still, silence filled the air in place of his reply.

Her expression turned sour and she pursed her lips, faceplate scrunching up, "... You gave me a purpose here, a job, and somehow you ripped it away from me without having to do--anythin'. Now, the people of Iacon can't even look at me, because they think I'm just like you and... Airachnid--that I knew from the very beginning that you both were knee-deep in all this slaggin' mess... and don't even get me started on what they've got on with Airachnid now," She said, rolling her optics to the thought before glowering again.

Her gaze fell right back onto to the decapitated helm of Sentinel. She gripped her fists around air again and settled back into an uncomfortably bunched state, huffing as her wings drooped and she hid back behind the wall of her crossed arm to glare like a petulant child, the gaze giving away to a look of weariness, a flame in her eyes that should've been put out long ago,

"... I should feel lucky. In fact, I think you would've probably told me that I was lucky. Somehow or some other with that cocky, arrogance of yours somewhere." She said, "But I don't. I don't feel lucky. Between the three of us? And all that happened? ... I'm starting... To feel like you... You were the luckiest out of all three of us, Sentinel,"

She gripped her arms a little harder, bitter to the thought, "you got the easiest way out possible, while me and that bodyguard of yours had to suffer the collateral, and some of us--me, especially, and so many others, are now pickin' up after you, was this all really worth it?... Did all of this live up to your intended dreams caked in gold and all the finer things in life?!..." She near-shouted, before forcing herself to quell her anger by a smidgen, cutting off her volume first when she had heard pedes off in the distance down the alley walking by.

Her eyes widened, tucking herself further near to the tombstone close to the wall and kept quiet, silent and watchful until the silhouettes passed, keenly listening to the sounds of their steps

... Until silence became restored and she sat back with a relieved sigh, now solemnly glaring at the rock nearest to her lap before looking away when she had once again picked it up and carefully placed it into her folded legs,

"... Maybe she had already known this would happen, but me? I was the damned fool who knew nothin' of this..." She said, before something bit into her throat at the thought--the idea of being innocent and a victim--left a more burning flavor of disgust on her glossa than any of Cybertron's worse below-grade Energon could ever do, rephrasing,

"... No, I wasn't the damned fool who knew nothing... I knew something and felt too complacent to even think of sniffing around any further to see what kind of slag you were hidin' from me... From all of Iacon, from the world..." She rested a servo over his helm, and reluctantly dragged it to tilt his lifeless eyes up to her, by the chin.

"... If Primus had written your fate to be like... This? Then, by the Allspark, do I have some slaggin' criticism for his work," She said, trying to find something bitter to say but, all there was left in her internal storage now was just... Memories, both good and bad that she wanted to get off her chassis. The idea of something so sweet between brittle and sharp thorns of her mind was... Almost repulsive.

She reached back, and forced them out--like throwing out tchotchkes and toys she no longer needed or wanted, only to look back and wonder whether they still deserved to stay or to go

"... For a moment, and during the nights, I can't help but think... They were too easy on you, too merciful," She started up, outright blunt honesty as he would've expected from her, "... I sometimes think you should've been brought to justice, imprisoned, stripped of your wings, your power, somethin' more that I know would've hurt you more than what you got in the end... And sometimes, I can't believe I think that way now... Say things like that. It's like I'm right back to where I was the first few times I knew you... So hateful, and... Full of resentment," She crossed her arms over the top of his helm, bringing the rock close to her chassis, looking over it.

"Sometimes I wonder if I was even the first bot to have ever hated you when I came... What a privilege that would've been, hm? Someone original out of every copy here who said they 'loved' you,"

She sighed, "And now look at me." Sunblitz tilted the stone-head to face to her as she gently cupped the side of its face, the cold material leaving her to shudder as she narrowed her optics and lowered her helm.

Passing the weight out of her servos and back onto the ground, she stood up once more with a hardened expression, what softness lied now became suffocated, "... You are... One of the most downright, worst bots, I could have ever gotten the privilege to know... in this life cycle, and I..." She trailed, her servo wandering just short of the storage compartment to her forearm, taking out the extra company she brought with her in the form of a bottle of cheap high-grade, "...Honestly do not know... Or whether I ever truly knew... Whether I hated you or if I ever genuinely did... like you," She whispered the last half out, and sighed deeply.

Her index and thumb seized to the cork, twisting.

"... This one's for you, Sentinel,"

"pop!" went the plug, and out went the dark blue liquid. She took to a short sip of the bottle of processor-poison first, choking on the taste as she spilt the rest out over the rubble and mess that she called Sentinel's grave, sharing the awful drink out to her unresponsive partner. Her yellow optics dimmed to the lowest setting they'd been in since... Ever, watching as it spilled over and stained every part before becoming a pool on the ground that surrounded his helm like blood. Sunblitz watched until all of the contents slowly left the bottle and onto the crudely arranged headstone and for a moment. She observed to the waste.

It almost looks like his color, she thought, with pursed lips and a strain in her throat. Sunblitz cleared her vocalizer for the moment, trying to rid the bitter taste that lingered, looking to the headstone once more with a conflicted look that slowly gave away.

"... I hope you're happy with yourself from up there," She whispered, huffing as the bottle ran dry, before allowing it to slip from her fingers. It clattered onto the cold rubble where she knelt once more to come at eye-level to the stone, tracing her digits gingerly onto the engraved moniker, and her spark began to ache once more and twist itself painfully.

Blame it on the high-grade, she thought, blame it on the high-grade.

Before Sunblitz knew it, she held to the sides of the obelisk, and leaned her helm to it, a ragged sigh escaped and she breathed,

"I hate you..." She airily said, before allowing herself the moment of silence to pour out one last thing, suspecting that the poor high-grade pool beneath could use to a coolant finisher, as she softly breathed and wept against the monument in silence.

[midnightsprings]

The Jellinom mini pin backerkit campaign IS LIVE as part of Pintopia 2!

This is my first time doing a crowdfund for a gacha collection - itty bitty pins that, once in stock, will only be available at random through gacha spins! In the campaign, you can choose each specific pin you want for $12 each, or do gacha spins for a discount (pricing shown above).

As a bit of a background, "Jellinoms" were originally a collaborative concept between my fiancé and I, starting with a "Flanom" design! These are teenier updated takes on the design with different expressions and colors, and keep the translucent enamel over smooth metal concept! They will have epoxy over the faces as well, which will make them look very multi-dimensional.

The base goal is 7 Jellinom pins I designed + a collaborative Jellinom design by Fantasy Fox Creations with holographic glitter! 

They are my Pintopia partner, so I also have a collab design in their cat paw campaign.

Backers of both campaigns will get the collab pins for free with their pledges! 💕 I also have early bird incentives for the first 48hrs!

Stretch goals for my campaign will include more Jellinoms, washi tape, stickers, various types of shaker keychains, and more - depending on how much we unlock.

3D animation by Sunny Nika 3D

[oneshotnewbie]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐃𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 / 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᕚ---ᕘ

The Superfriends and several other DEO agents gathered in the DEO's bullpen, their faces marked with determination. J'onn, as the leader of this mission, led the meeting. "We have evidence that y/n was forcibly taken to another dimension. Winn and Lena found particles in Kara's apartment that indicate a portal."

Winn nodded and began tapping a holographic representation of various dimensions, which he then made appear on the nearby monitor. "Based on the tracks and energetic patterns we found, I believe she must have crossed over into a parallel dimension."

Lena, her brow furrowed in worry, continued Winn's initial sentence. "There are many dimensions, hundreds. And there are magical portals that allow you to travel between individual dimensions. But we have to find exactly the right one to bring y/n back. The human body genetics are not attuned to other dimensions and if we take too long it can have dire consequences for her."

Winn studied maps and data for signs of anything unusual while Supergirl and the others talked about what the chances were of finding the right portal before he found anything. "It appears that these dimensions are all unstable. There are energy fluctuations that suggest they are not naturally occurring. Someone or something is behind this."

"Can you locate the portal?" the Martian asked and the young man began typing furiously on his keyboard, analyzing more data. "Yes, I can trace and locate the portal's trail. However, it moves through different locations, making it difficult to search, but there is a pattern."

"Good, then let's not waste any time. We have to get y/n back unharmed. Where do we start?" Supergirl was impatient and the chances of her survival in other dimensions made her increasingly tense. She looked at everyone gathered at the round table and waited for the technician's answer on this matter. "Your apartment."

The Superfriends set off, ready to solve the mystery of your whereabouts. They followed the traces of the portal into Kara's apartment, while the magical energies revealed their presence in her living room. Winn positioned himself in the center of the room, the device in his hands beeping in a monotonous sound. "This is where the energy flow seems to be strongest. I'm opening the portal right at this point, get ready."

Everyone involved nodded in unison before positioning themselves a little further to avoid being caught in the first strong vortex of the approach. Winn, with the simple knowledge of his trade, opened the colorful portal, the stream of mixed air forming a strong suction. "There it is, we have to get through it!"

J'onn was the first to walk through the portal. The others followed cautiously, ready for any surprise on the other side of the swirling and pulsating portal as they were carried into a world unlike anything they had seen before. The surroundings were strange, the sky an unreal dark blue and the trees streaked with strange shadows. The landscape was distorted, the colors gloomy and dark, and an eerie silence hung in the freezing air. This dimension seemed threatening and scary for everyone involved.

"Stay here. I'll give you a quick overview from above," the blonde breathed and tried to activate her flight power by jumping, but it was as if the gravity was different in this world. A mixture of confusion and concern spread through her. "My superpowers don't work here."

J'onn also felt the same. His shapeshifting abilities failed and he was unable to establish a telepathic connection with you. "The laws of physics are distorted here. We have to be careful and rely on our other abilities."

Winn, using his technical skills, tried to scan the structure of this dimension to see if this National City was built the same as what they knew. Meanwhile, Lena was also looking at her self-made equipment when she realized that her scientific instruments were also compromised, but they were hitting the traces of your DNA that she had previously borrowed from the DEO laboratory. "The dimension is playing with the laws of nature that we know. We have to adapt and proceed carefully, but I have a trace and it leads directly to her and Alex's actual apartment."

Kara, who knew every inch of the alternate dimension apartments, led the group through the strange looking and empty streets. And as they got close, she felt an eerie pressure in the air. Lena's technology also suggested that it was 90% certain that you were in there, but in relatively poor condition. "Something's wrong."

"Then we shouldn't waste any more time than we've already lost." J'onn ordered and carefully entered the apartment. The lights flickered dimly and the atmosphere was heavy. Not a second had passed when they took a step into it when a figure appeared in front of them that made the blood run cold in their veins.

It was Alex, but not the loving sister Kara knew. This red-haired woman had a cold look in her eyes, and her clothes were surrounded by a deep dark aura. “Where is y/n and what have you done to her?!” Supergirl asked, standing protectively in front of Lena and Winn, who had no combat experience.

The person addressed smiled mockingly and pointed to a captive person who was sitting motionless in a chair with magical and iron chains on his neck and wrists. Her gaze fell directly on you and your tired and exhausted figure, but your eyes met hers, in which there was a silent cry for help.

J'onn tried to make telepathic contact with you again, but it was as if there was an impenetrable barrier between you and him that he couldn't break through. Alex laughed darkly. "You can't do anything. Here I am the ruler and you are powerless. I'm sorry, but she's mine now."

The Superfriends now faced a tough challenge that tested not only their skills, but also Kara in the deepest ways. She stared at the woman as she maintained her defensive position and began to negotiate in a calm but firm voice. "Alex, please. We know that you have lost your wife and miss her dearly. But our y/n.. She doesn't belong here, she will die if she stays here any longer. This dimension is not meant for her!"

Alex smiled smugly and took long backward steps towards you. She knelt down in front of you, her fingers gently caressing your chin as she looked into your eyes. A veil of tears covered your eyes and you flinched away from her touch. "She will stay here and take my wife's place. Same character traits, same looks. I just have to train up the evilness in her."

While the redhead turned away from you, Lena took the opportunity and slowly crept into an adjoining room that led her directly to you. Supergirl didn't notice anything at first, but the other two men did and tried to keep Alex in check with distraction.

Lena quietly reached your side, but remained hidden in the doorway and whispered soothing words to you. "I'm here, honey. You just have to hold on a little longer."

You nodded slightly, restricted in your movements as your eyes reflected fear mixed with hope. Winn was currently watching the portal's activity on his monitor, keeping track of the time they had left before the portal would close forever. "It's now or never, guys. We don't have much time left." He whispered, pressing his statement.

J'onn drew attention to himself by walking towards her and threatening her in her personal space while Supergirl charged forward and incapacitated her with a well-aimed blow to the neck. Using his technical skills, Winn deactivated the energy sources of your bonds, which the redhead had enhanced with her powers, and the power on your neck that emanated from them began to fade.

At that moment Lena freed you from the chains and you gratefully threw your arms around her neck, barely able to hold back your tears. While the black-haired woman tried to calm you down, Alex was persistent and tried to recover from unconsciousness, but Supergirl kept her at a distance to keep you safe, placing the chains that had once adorned your neck around her. "She will not stay here but will leave this place. You will no longer have any power over her."

Lena stood at your side, a gentle smile on her lips as you slowly propped yourself up with Lena's help. You felt too weak, as if time in this dimension was sapping your strength, and she put an arm around your waist to help you walk. "Darling, how are you feeling?"

You tried to smile, but the exhaustion was clear in your eyes and face. "A little weak, but I think I'll survive. Thanks for saving me."

"The Superfriends always stand up for each other," the blonde suddenly spoke as she carefully stepped closer to you and gently pulled you into her arms, rubbing her hands soothingly over your back. "It's good to have you back."

"Thanks, Kara. For everything." You whispered imperceptibly and she let go of you, gently wiping tears from your cheeks that still seemed to be lost. "Not for that, you're family. But we have to be careful now, y/n/n. Returning from this alternate dimension will be very stressful on your body."

You nodded weakly and exhaled deeply. You leaned heavily on Lena as she slowly moved with you through the dark atmosphere. The air seemed to shimmer here and the surroundings seemed unreal and threatening to your eyes. The forces of this world pulled on you as if they were trying to devour your energy and you latched onto the black-haired woman wearily, the dizziness momentarily taking over you.

"We shouldn't stay here too long and move faster. The portal will close soon," said Winn, keeping a close eye on the surroundings while at the same time analyzing the remaining energy flows. Supergirl and J'onn were currently forming a protective barrier around you and Lena, feeling the strangeness of this atmosphere deep in their consciousness. "Not just because of that. It's been too long for Y/n, her body can't take it much longer. She's about to pass out."

"We have to hurry," Supergirl spoke composedly, her words swallowed by the murky air. "Y/n, we're almost there. Hang in there."

You nodded weakly and concentrated on moving forward step by step as the atmosphere continued to sap your strength. When you finally reached the portal, Lena sat on the floor with you and gave your exhaustion a break. The other two stood guard, ready for any unexpected turn of events while Winn took control of the technology. "I will ensure that no further portals can be opened into our dimension after we return."

Looking back on these negative experiences, your thoughts turned to the days you had overcome here. Only a warm hand from Lena on your shoulder let you out of them again, a touch of relief sparking within you when you saw a black vortex of wind open up in front of you.

Seconds later, you returned to the correct dimension. The swirl of paint closed right behind you and the young guy completed his job by locking it securely. It disappeared, and the eerie world of the alternate dimension was now safely locked away. You leaned against Lena, exhausted, before you briefly tipped over and J'onn caught you just seconds before you hit the ground. "She needs to get medical attentions immediately. I will fly her, meet me there.“

ᕚ---ᕘ

When you got to the medical department, J'onn immediately lowered you onto a stretcher and was happy to see that you were still conscious. Doctors immediately had their hands on you, trying to stabilize your condition with fluids and watching you to make sure you hadn't suffered any serious effects from the trip.

You closed your eyes briefly, not noticing when your real Alex reached the DEO's medical department, which she was allowed to leave a few hours ago, and quickly walked over to you before sitting down next to you. A relieved but also worried smile crossed her face as she gently stroked your hair and she carefully leaned over you, wrapping you in her arms. "Are you okay? Are you in pain? I missed you so much."

Returning the firm grip, you felt the love and concern that Alex felt for you and you also noticed that the burden was visibly lifted from your shoulders as you held her safe and sound in your arms. "I missed you too. And I'm fine. I'm just really tired and weak."

Suddenly you both let your emotions flow and she hugged you tighter, as if she could keep you close to her forever. You closed your eyes again, sheltered in her arms, feeling the familiar feeling of safety that only Alex could give you.

The silence in the room was only broken by the gentle breathing of both of you. Alex finally broke her silence, just whispering in your ear with a loving intensity. "I thought I had lost you. Thinking about it for the last few hours has been unbearable."

With the last of your strength you held her even closer to you, placing soft kisses on her hair as her head rested on your chest. "I'm here, babe. I'm with you again. Nothing will ever be able to separate us."

The redhead lifted her head to look deep into your eyes. Your eyes met, and in that moment the full depth of your love and the fears you had endured were reflected on both sides. "I love you so much," Alex confessed, her voice broken by emotion as tears began to dance on her cheeks.

You smiled, a mixture of happiness and gratitude filling your body. You lifted your upper body briefly and pressed a kiss on her lips, full of passion, tenderness and all the love and care that you felt and carried within you for her. The world outside the medical ward seemed to disappear for a moment and only your love mattered.

After reluctantly breaking away from your kiss, she placed her forehead against yours and enjoyed the closeness of you. "We've been through so much together," Alex whispered. "But that was definitely the hardest thing I've ever had to overcome."

You nodded in agreement and looked for her hand, linking it tightly with yours. "You are my rock, Alex. I am so grateful that you are by my side and it is so nice to be with you again, where I belong."

The tears of relief shone in Alex's eyes and their love was on full display. A smile played on her rosy lips. "And I'm grateful that Kara brought you back. I wouldn't have known what to do without you."

You gently wiped a tear from Alex's cheek and gave her another kiss on her wet cheeks. "We always found each other, didn't we? No matter what happens, we always end up back together."

The redhead lay down next to you in the empty space, her hand placed gently on your chest to feel the still slow but steadily improving heartbeat as she snuggled against you. Her head rested on your shoulder and so the two of you remained in your embrace, aware that an unbreakable connection existed in your hearts.

The Superfriends stood respectfully behind the glass as you shared one last loving kiss before falling asleep. The air seemed to be filled with love and warmth, and the others felt that they were witnessing a very special moment. They shared a moment of joy.

[hms-tardimpala]

Ficbinding: Who has eight tentacles and isn't allowed to eat pie? by @no-gorms

The fic: SPN, Castiel/Dean Winchester, T, 16k

Dean watched an anime porn about this once, but real life turns out to be way less interesting. Or, the one where Dean gets turned into an octopus.

This fic is brilliant, it reads like one of the comedic episodes in Supernatural. I read it in one afternoon, it made me laugh out loud, but also think "Wow, I can't believe the characterization is so good with such a silly premise" several times. The concept's potential is used amazingly, you can tell the author had fun making research on octopuses. Hard recommend!

The bind: This fic is so funny, I had to make the binding eccentric too. I used holographic pleather to evoke an octopus' leathery skin. The color blue can represent an aquarium's water (Dean's new home in the fic ^^), but what I particularly like is that the holographic color changes depending on the lighting (you can see outdoors and indoors lighting in the pictures), and there's some octopus camouflage in the story, with Dean changing color.

(no need to turn the sound on, you'll get breakroom noises)

I chose the lobster endpaper because octopus!Dean eats crustaceans and fish (and I thought I'd never get the occasion to use that one!). The red headbands and bookmark match the lobsters, and red and blue really pop together.

This is my first straight spine in an age, I don't like those usually, but with this fabric I couldn't make a round spine and it turned out great! It looks clean.

Details:

I used many small octopuses as chapter headings and closings, and not one is the same. The octopus image after the author's note is a free vector and the decorations are a free font found on Dafont.

The font I used is quite round, and I printed the text big because otherwise the book would have been too small to bind in a hardcover in my opinion.

I'm very happy with my trimming this time again, and with the spacing between the edges of the cover and the textblock. It's nice to see decisions I've made after months of learning pay off. I'm officially good enough at bookbinding to disobey the manual and find my own solutions to problems 🥳

Even the corners are not as bad as they could have been with this fabric.

I love this little book! It's a pleasure to look at, it was fun to make, and having this story bound will make it easier to reread, which I certainly will do.

Fonts: Hey August (title), Trushdex (author name), Bion Book (text). All free on Dafont.

Materials: Holographic pleather, 2mm grey board, 70g/m² white copy paper, synthetic bookmark and headbands. Endpaper bought in a brick and mortar craft store.

Feel free to ask me more about materials and fonts (or whatever), it won’t bother me at all to tell you what I used, I just can't think of anything else right now.

[brechtian]

(Mostly Signed!! YA + Sanderson) books I own and am extremely willing to sell for cheaper than average listings bc I don’t want them anymore. a lot are hardcovers (heads up most are signed but some include personalization with my name sorry. if ur name is Ella congrats tho). All are very very good quality or like new bc I was delicate with my books when I was younger (prices are for the lot of every book described in a listing and all are negotiable!)

Six of crows & crooked kingdom (1st/1st) both signed - $90 + shipping

Shadow & bone (hc) and siege & storm (pb) both signed and original covers - $75 + shipping

divergent books, all signed with inscriptions - $100 + shipping

mistborn second gen (wax and wayne), bands of mourning is a signed 1st/1st, alloy of law is a used 1st/1st, shadows of self is a used 1st/1st. $150 + shipping SOLD

Alloy of law 1st/1st former library copy - $45 + shipping

Steelheart by Brandon Sanderson trilogy, firefight & calamity 1st eds hardcovers; steelheart just paperback. $35 + shipping SOLD

hardcover signed copies of first dragonsteel editions of legion and legion: skin deep by Sanderson, rare - $75 + shipping SOLD

Darkest minds trilogy + companion novel, first two books signed, all except first book hardcover - $80 + shipping

All of lunar chronicles and fairest signed; cress, winter, & fairest are hardcovers and 1st/1sts as well. Winter has an exclusive stamp. All include personalizations “To Ella” - $125 + shipping

heartless and renegades by meyer signed hardcover 1st/1sts with inscriptions - $50 + shipping

First five books & companion novel for throne of glass, all first ed hardbacks except the first one I believe. Queen of shadows is signed and has the empire of storms signature tour stamp, empire of storms is signed, and heir of fire has the empire of storms tour stamp. Lot is $500 + shipping, individual book prices vary. SOLD

First two acotar books with original covers, both hardbacks. Acotar is first printing. Acomaf is a special signed first edition/printing with a page insert declaring its special binding, first edition status, & signature. Together $250 + shipping SOLD

Literally the entire The Last Apprentice series by Joseph Delaney none are signed but I own all fucking thirteen and the companion book in original covers, mix of paperback & hardback - $100 + shipping

Grave mercy (paperback) & mortal heart (hardcover) both signed - $45 + shipping

The Entire selection trilogy & sequel trilogy all signed. Sequel trilogy are all hardbacks, original trilogy paperbacks. - $185 + shipping

Boys I loved before trilogy + summer I turned pretty, all signed except for always and forever Lara Jean. Mix of hardcover and paperback. - $100 + shipping

Anna and the French kiss trilogy, last two books are signed, all paperback and the colored cityscape covers - $50 + shipping

Everything everything by Nicola yoon signed paperback + sun is also a star signed hardcover - $95 + shipping

Unsigned lot of 5 rainbow Rowell books, four of which are hardbacks; carry on & landline are 1st/1sts - $95 + shipping

Ember in the ashes first three books by sabaa tahir, first two signed paperbacks; third one unsigned hardcover - $60 + shipping

Brandon Mull: signed hardcover holographic copy of the first beyonders book, all the fablehaven books (all paperback mix of new and old covers, but all are signed except book 5, and book 1 is double signed.), and signed hardcover first ed of dragonwatch - $110 + shipping

Not signed but I do own the entire Artemis fowl series minus the time paradox: $70 + shipping (mixed paper and hardback)

Daughter of smoke and bone trilogy by Laini Taylor all signed paperbacks in original covers - $125

Scythe & thunderhead, thunderhead is signed - $60 + shipping

Original pjo covers all paperback, the lightning thief and battle of the labyrinth are signed SOLD for $200

I also have pjo hardcover the ultimate guide with the holo cover and all of the trading cards like new and demigod diaries both 1st/1sts! - $60 + shipping

Heroes of Olympus series original covers, son of Neptune is signed. Last four books in the series are all hardcover 1st/1sts. - $125 + shipping SOLD

Pjo greek gods and Greek heroes hardcover. Heroes is signed by Rick and John Rocco, both first editions - $100 + shipping

Kane chronicle trilogy original covers, serpents shadow is 1st/1st hardcover, other 2 paperbacks - $40

Illuminae files trilogy first two books signed, all three books hardcover first editions - $200

Way of Kings signed hardback like new/unread - $100 + shipping

Hardcover signed copy of Oathbringer - $130 + shipping

Well of Ascension signed hardcover like new - $150 SOLD

Elantris signed no printing number - $150 SOLD

Warbreaker signed and inscribed w/ my name, former library copy - $95

Arcanum Unbounded signed hardcover first edition - $150 + shipping SOLD

Rhythm of War 1st/1st SOLD

Okay um there’s more but these r the main listings for now, see my reblog with the more comprehensive Sanderson listings if you are interested in his signed books (I have a lot!).

[ss-shitstorm]

Hey sorry the next chapter of Bread is taking so long(I have a good reason I swear and that reason is I’m trying to speedrun the smut) In the meantime please accept this excerpt from my first ever participation in Kinktober(that probably won’t be ready until december at the earliest) and also the most self-indulgent shit I’ve ever written in my goddamn life.

Seraphim (working title)

Paring : Starscream/Reader, Starscream/You

Kinks : Strip clubs, Pole Dancing, Semi Public Sex, Leg/Heel Worship, Gentle Dom, Master/Student Dynamic, Drug induced sex

“Are you feeling alright?”

Asks your stage mate a stone’s throw away on his side of the holographic catwalk, half-naked protomass hugged flush against his frame as he slows to a lazy stop.

“I can’t keep my eyes on my pole and your body at the same time “A little dizzy” you say plainly, furiously chewing the quid in your tightening jaw. “My uh...my fluid pump is going kinda fast.”

“Syk will do that.” he says, loose grin splitting his face as he regards your tense, trembling frame. “That and the spark oscillations. Let your cooling fans catch up for a moment.”

That sounds like a good idea. But so does sinking to the floor, or collapsing on it, the latter a bit closer to reality than you’d like. “Alright. I’m um…gonna sit down for a sec.”

“Fortunately, we’ve a surpluses of seats.” He says, abandoning his portion of the stage and strolling over to yours. He offers his servo, far smoother and softer than you’d ever realized to pull you to your feet.

“Steady?” he asks as you take a tentative step forward.

You answer by stumbling on your arched ped, blinking not-quite in stereo.

“I suppose not.” He slings your arm over his shoulders as he hefts the majority of his weight from your frame into his. It has the (probably) unintended effect of pressing your face into his neck and your own exposed chassis against his as he walks you step by warm, blissfully unsteady step over to the front row, guiding you off the catwalk and into the frontmost seat.

Or, tries to. Said seat happens to be occupied by a stocky purple and yellow femme with squinted, bloodshot optics and lazy grin on her plastic face, making repetitive cheering motions while tossing glowstick-colored popcorn in your general direction.

“Wait.” You say as he starts setting you down, struggling not to slur over your alien bubble gum. “Someone’s in that seat.”

Airplane man blinks, looking from you, to the occupant and back. “They’re a hologram. They’ll be fine.”

“Yeah but, I still don’t want to sit on her.”

He blinks again. You grind your jaw harder, instinctively anticipating a hissyfit or long winded dump on you and your “pathetic leftover human sensibilities”.

But that’s not what you get.

What you get is a roll of his optics, pupils blown to oceanic proportions and a muffled snort under his breath as he chokes back a laugh.

“You’ve blown up cities with no remorse, and still pull the parking brake at being rude.” He says, taking the prifma from his subspace, activating it in all its ornate, infinitely complex glory. He waves it in front of the femme’s face and, once certain she’s enraptured, pitches it across the room.

She stumbles from her chair, bolting after it and giggling like a madman. You find yourself joining her, blown away by the attention to detail he’d put into this holodeck program. Even the NPC’s reliably stay in perfect, pleasantly-fucked up character as the patrons he’d based them off of.

“I had some remorse.” you say as he sets you down in the seat, non-linear headspace dangling the thread from earlier irresistibly in your peripheral. “About the city, I mean. I didn’t really want to do that.”

“I’m sure at least part of you did.” He answers with a knowing sneer that barely qualifies as a facial expression. “But that wasn’t intended to be an insult. I simply found the juxtaposition of those attitudes amusing.”

“I didn’t take it as one.” You bite down on your lip by sheer accident, and not because the tips of his digits as they release your arms send the most sublime wave of goosebumps cresting over your protomass. “And you’re right. I did kinda like doing it. Not because I wanted anyone hurt though.”

“Simply because you enjoy blowing scrap sky-high?” he asks with a probably unintentional purr.

“Yeah.” You swallow at nothing, suddenly very aware of how dry your intake has become. “Ah, crap. I should probably go get some coolant.”

“Good idea. Do you remember where the dispensary stations are located-wait.” His optics flash as he sinks down to his knees, reaching into his subspace to withdraw a handful of disposable coolant packets, before offering them to you. “Stay seated, my little apprentice. I’ve got you.”

Were you capable of producing tears in this state, you’d surely be crying. “You….you’re a god.” You croak, taking the handful and ripping the top off of the first one.

“And you’re an exceptional worshiper.” He winks, straightening and getting to his peds. “In fact, stay put and I’ll give you reason to be truly devout.”

“Mmmph.” Is your poignant reply, covertly spitting the quid out to jam the packet’s straw into your intake. Your denta might suffer for it later, but right now you’re thirsty, and your jaw is *exhausted*. “You what now?”

Something warm, satisfied as a cat that’d claimed a mouse washes over his face. A look like he’d been waiting for this precise moment his entire life as he strides towards the pole you’d abandoned, casting a sly smirk at you from over his shoulder.

“Allow me to show you how I got my stage name.”

Starcream, or, “Sykness”, as he’d revealed earlier, taps his audial, likely altering the holodeck parameters in a way you still don’t understand how to do yet. After a moment, and clearly satisfied, he steps forward, raising a servo to snap his fingers.

The lights dim, the ambient electrohouse music softens to a nigh-inaudible level.-, the track taking it’s place jogging a very human part of your memory. Your brow furrows in contemplation, chewing the straw on your cybertronian Capri-sun as your brain scrambles to place these famous first few notes into their respective cubby holes. You know this. C’mon think. Think.

Definition remains elusive even as it dawns, casting shadows and early sunlight over that meandering, out of place electric guitar riff. The thick, wet kick drum that starts just a moment too early. That melodic, haunting voice layered over aimless, choir-like vocals.

He steps forward, placing a servo on his hip, wrapping the other around the pole as he keels forward into a reverent bow, waiting for the true melody to start. How fitting it is, you think, that a being bowing to no worldly power allows music alone to bend his knee.

“Life is a mystery

Everyone must stand alone-”

How also fitting, you also think, that he’d choose a human song sharing the thematic nuance of the substance coursing through both your veins. Though the “Are you fucking kidding me” stays wedged behind your denta as he tilts his helm upward, reaching the servo from his hip toward the stars as a pharisaic priest calls upon his god.

“-I hear you call my name

And it feels like-

Home.”

The scattered percussion solidifies into a drumline, moving his hips for him as he he lowers his servo. He clutches it to his throat before drawing the digits down his face, savoring the theatrics until the tempo demands his full compliance. Which it does, as a drum and bass enhanced version of Madonna’s 12’ inch Like a Prayer club mix slides into its first chorus, while he slides into a splayed V at the base of the pole, sinfully sharpened legs spread towards your line of vision like a runway.

“When you call my name

It’s like a little prayer

I’m down on my knees

I wanna take you there.”

He bends them at the knees, backwards until the tips of his heels barely graze the top of his aft, before swinging the right one over the left, sprawling onto his back and reaching one arm horizontally beyond his head, drawing the other down his cleavage and chassis.

“In the midnight hour

I can feel your power

Jut like a prayer

I wanna take you there.”

Rolling to his side he faces you, sliding his servo down the length of his topmost leg as he raises it up. Up until the tip of his ped kisses the top of his helm, before swinging at the knee to place it flat on the floor, digits trailing along his thighs and aft as he pulls himself into a catlike crouch at the base of the pole.

“I hear your voice

It’s like an angel sighing

I have no choice I hear your voice,

Feels like flying.”

Fly he does, reaching both servos behind his back to wrap around the pole, pulling himself to his feet before hooking his heel and calf around the base and gliding in a half-moon circle until his lithe, winged back now faces you.

“I close my eyes

Oh god I think I’m falling

Out of the sky I close my eyes

Heaven help me-!”

In a feat of limber blasphemy that would make serpents weep, he holds the entirety of his weight in his servos while swinging his lower body forward and up. Knotting his peds at the top of the pole once there to hang upside down, frame held in the downward swoop of a diving falcon.

“When you call my name

It’s like a little prayer

I’m down on my knees

I wanna take you there.”

You’re certainly taken somewhere as he spins around once more to face you, weight balanced on a single leg as his second stretches out to meet his lifted arm in a sharp point. The other servo used to draw trails up the biolights peppering his sides, chassis, and throat before reaching towards you in a “come hither” gesture.

“In the midnight hour

I can feel your power

Just like a prayer

I wanna take you there.”

He circles round, leg akimbo before allowing both to fall to the floor. Kneeling at the pole, curving his back into a C as he transitions to all fours backwards. His chin tilts to the ceiling, optics half-lidded while bracing his digits on the stage, bending one leg up to his chassis and lifting the other pointedly in the air. The second joins it with a sharp kick, both dangling in a loose Y like silk strands in the breeze.

“Like a child

You whisper softly to me

You’re in control,

Just like a child

Now I’m dancing.”

With a cock of his helm, he pushes himself up and back on both servos, throwing both legs backwards, planting his heels on the stage before you and rolling to his feet, granting you full view of his tight, perfect aft while gliding his digits up along his calves and thighs.

“It’s like a dream

No end and no beginning

You’re here with me

Its like a dream

Let the choir sing!”

Straightening his frame to perch flamingo-like on one leg, he reaches one servo above his head, the other sailing from the curve of his waist out to his suspended knee, before flicking both forward, hitting the floor in a roundhouse spin that takes him back to the pole. Back and wings grind flush against the metal as he dips his aft towards the floor, one clawed servo woven between his legs to grip his panel. The other cups his chin so he can bite into his index digit, catching and holding your gaze with those smoldering vermilion searchlights.

“When you call my name

It’s like a little prayer

I’m down on my knees

I wanna take you there.”

He slides into a split, before rolling onto his back to push himself backwards-upright with his palms into a profile view, rhythmically rolling his hips into thin air. He kicks his leg up once, more, hooking it around the pole to sweep the rest of him in a slow circle, springing forward to grip it and pull himself straight.

“In the midnight hour

I can feel your power

Just like a prayer

You know I’ll take you there”

He hugs the pole, cradling the metal between the plush of his exposed chassis, before jutting his frame away. Throwing his helm back and pelvis forward, he thrusts his hips in a continuous, undulating wave, all the while flashing you looks from the corners of his optics and lightning-fast-denta-barring smirks.

“Just like a prayer

Your voice can take me there

Just like, a muse to me

You are a mystery-“

Alien amphetamines or no, you’re very much drugged. Captivated like a cobra frozen by a tamer’s flute. Though his song is one sung in movement, in the serene, frenzied picture his artful limbs paint on the present moment. A moment, which, while existing only within the borders of now, has no end or beginning. Time has stopped for the two of you, and now that it has, you’re made to realize it had no claim over either to begin with.

This mech isn’t just extraterrestrial. He’s extradimensional. The fairy king that’s brought you to the forested threshold of his world. The demon smothering coals made for sinner’s feet to walk you barefoot and painless into hell. The seraphim whispering through the jumbled flesh poetry your mind provides, filtering raw intent and cognition through the labyrinthine filter your bodied consciousness relies on. “Heaven exists.” The angel tells you. “And you’re living in it.”

You believe him, because he’d blessed both bread and wine and handfed them through your parched lips. Because he extended the molecular invitation that led you to and through the doors of perception. Because that’s exactly what beings made of bent light and stardust do, and that’s exactly what he is.

He’s a fucking angel.

“-Just like a dream

You are not what you seem

Just like a prayer

No choice your voice can take me there~”

One that’s making love to himself on that pole so you can watch. So you can be a part of it. Partner in this divine act on the celestial stage that exists only in the gap of your shared awareness.

You’d be content to dissolve into this awareness, this universal heartbeat owed to all by birthright yet obscured by the task of surviving. It’s the first you’ve tasted in *either* life you’d lived, and you’d known not how you hungered for it till it touched your lips.

“Your voice can take me there-”

But your soul cries for something more pressing, more primal. A deeper desire than the one to dive into and drink from this fountain. Behind your slaked thirst grows something far more earthbound but no less urgent around the branches of your heart. Something highlighted by the wicked, nubile body of this Enochian being twisting into shadows before you. By the legs that could lace ribbons ‘round your neck as easily as snap it in half. By the wings that could drop you from the stratosphere as well as shelter you from the sun.

By the arm’s-length distance and thin metal plating separating you from his array, which you’re trying very hard to not think about as stretches into a bird of paradise pose as his finishing move.

“-Like a prayer.”

He slides down to the base, righting himself into a crouch and finally a sit, but not before lassoing a leg to hook around your neck. He pulls you flush against his torso while slinging the other leg around your back, barricading you against his frame.

“You seemed to enjoy that more than I did.” He says, roping an arm around your shoulders as his leg slides down to the curve of your waist. “And I really, really enjoyed that.”

Of course he noticed that. Even despite his natural ability to read everyone within a five-mile radius like a book, he was watching you watch him the entire time. That, and he knows you. Sussed out every last one of your objectives before you even knew them time and time again. That, coupled with the empathic bond you currently share, and metric fuckton of emotional vomit you’d heaved into each other’s laps only an hour or so ago, breaking the barricades down between your naked hearts leads you to a conclusion. The frightening, nauseatingly-thrilling conclusion that he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

And what you’re thinking, you realize with dawning horror subverted to euphoria, is that he’s extremely fucking attractive.

He's hot. Brain-rewiring-hot. Hot beyond anything you or any member of your prior species conceptualized as attractive before. Renaissance painters covered faces of the divine in flesh, only because they knew not what the hands of God could mold from metal.

“I d-did.” You say with a stuttering hiss, his talons tracing the fringe of your wings. “I couldn’t look away if I wanted to.”

“Tell me you didn’t want to.”

“I didn’t.” You ex-vent shakily, nervousness and insecurity foreign concepts as a half-knowing smile spreads over your lips. “And you know damn well I didn’t.”

He laughs, high and pearly you can feel through his bare chassis as he pulls you closer, talons creeping up your spinal strut and sending pleasant goosebumps or the cybertronian version thereof bubbling along your protoform. “Reassurance is always appreciated. Especially from another seeker.”

Right. Robot god retroactively corrected his mistake by rebirthing you as the same breed of creature holding your attention and adrenal glands hostage. Except you’re not. No one is. No one comes close to replicating this supernova condensed into living metal, whose lap you’re currently sitting in. And that’s fine, because you didn’t come here to replicate a dying star, you came here to get lost within them.

An objective you’ve accomplished, upon summoning the courage and stupidity required to look into the sun. Those optics, those impish, mischievous, so very lucid and other optics even with the pupils blown and obscuring, they’re red like a sunset. That brilliant glow coaxing long shadows from the trees and canyons with their warm last strains of light. They offer the promise of further mystery, of the comforting cowl of night for those allergic to the sun to dance within.

He’s not the end of the light. Merely the beginning of darkness.

Perhaps, beyond the loving caress of true death, the gentlest darkness you’ll ever know.

“I might’ve told you this before, back when you were still entombed in that flesh prison-“ he begins, voice liquid velvet against your audials. “But I don’t want to end the night without telling you exactly how engaging I find that brilliant little mind of yours.”

He did tell you, didn’t he? He’d also told you, after testing a facefull of the product he’d conned you into making, that said flesh prison was the only reason he didn’t bend you over the counter and fuck you until your pelvis broke.

“I…thanks. You’re also attractive in the brain, and…um…everywhere else.” You say, fluid pump thrashing uncomfortably fast in your chassis and beneath his servo, which now hovers between your exposed cleavage. He can feel that. He can feel how worked up you are and there’s nothing you can do about it. “But…yeah…I think you said something like ‘Primus help me if you were cybertronian, let alone a flyer.’”

“Oh my. “ He smirks, drawing a talon beneath your chin. “You remember that verbatim?”

“Kinda hard to not.” You say around your stuttering spark. ”It’s not every day someone tells you they like you for YOU that much.”

"A shame. You ought to surround yourself with those who know you better.“

He’s laying on the compliments pretty thickly. And touching you pretty much everywhere he can without touching you *too* much. And while both of those things are absolutely facilitated by the party favor blasting insecurity and unneeded boundaries to bits, you can’t dismiss the possibility he’s hung out to dry in the air between you. Because that possibility is starting to sound like something you’d *very* much like to make reality.

“Since I um… y’know…became both of those things- “you start, squaring up to shoot your shot, venting hitched in please god please even with the bullseye inches from the barrel of your gun. “-what now?”

“Now?-” he says, tilting his helm towards yours, an undefinable something burning like distant stars in his optics as he leans in, lips grazing the very shell of your audial as he whispers:

“-Primus help me.”

You’re not sure who starts it. Maybe neither of you do. Maybe both. Maybe that matters less than the smell of ozone and residual coolant smothered by the taste of a foreign glossa on yours, because Starscream is fucking kissing you.

You’ve been kissed before. You’ve been kissed by metal titans before, prior to becoming one yourself. This is fact, painful and brilliant carved upon your spark. But neither fact nor scar holds any power over the present moment, because all that you are is screaming you’ve never felt like this. Not with every sensor in your frame lighting up like a firework at the ghost of his touch, the whisper of his lips against yours before he fully finds them. The electric zeal as they claim yours fully, neither asking nor demanding entrance to your intake that you give all the same because not listening, not giving, in not deepening this kiss and letting his glossa pins yours down isn’t possible.

This is surrender, some part of you thinks. This is what it feels like to die, once you’ve thrown up your arms and given your life up for lost. The comfort that swaddles you once you’ve stepped beyond, the placid anticipation of what comes next. And what comes next is whatever your reaper decides, because you’d handed him the reigns of this pale horse before ever donning your bridle.

He breaks the kiss, smooth venting uncharacteristically harried as he pulls his lips away only to bite them.

“I’ll take your reciprocation as enthusiastic consent-” he begins, optics searching yours for the tattered remains of hesitancy. “- unless you desire otherwise?”

You desire nothing other than swift and immediate continuation of where you left off. While normal, sober (y/n) might be too nervous to articulate that, Syk! (y/n) isn’t leashed by so useless an emotion. And nervous energy without fear is simply another word for exhilaration.

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t. I mean...” you shutter your optics, blowing out a breath. “This is fine. I like this.”

“Would you like to go further?”

You exhale sharply. This time, it’s you that reaches for his face, you that cups his chin in your servo, you that tilts his face up to yours.

“I’ll go as far as you let me.”

He blinks, taken by surprise, not aback by your boldness. It’s a vulnerable half second he hangs within your touch, before laughter erupts from his intake. At once rumbling and yet airy as he shakes his helm from your grasp.

“You’ve yet to interface at all in that body. Do you really want your first time to be while you’re this altered? While we’re gliding?”

“I know I want it to be with you.”

His optics widen, in-venting with a sharp hiss. This is only the second time you’ve caught him off guard tonight but it’s not going to be the last. Because the only thing more attractive than sassy, confident Starscream is reeling-from-raw-and-euphoric-truth Starscream.

“I...I’m not going to pretend this doesn’t sound appealing right now.” He says, a tinge of caution to his carefree tone. “But Syk... its going to set a standard. An impossible one. Nothing you do after this is going to feel the same. So I’ll ask you one more time-” he rears back, laying both servos on your shoulders “Are. You. Certain?”

That’s a good question. For literally anyone other than you, because you already know the answer. You’ve got very little to lose, other than this new body’s virginity. Hopefully to this chemically-induced non-asshole version of Airplane man, if you can scrape enough braincells together to tell him so.

While you’re scraping just that, you give his query some space from your spark and genitals you still aren’t totally certain how to use yet. Even with that space, you can’t find a reason to *not* get your seal ruptured and back blown out in a perfect replication of the nightclub your ex’s ex used to manage, complete with music and strung out NPCs. A handful of which a re literally cheering the two of you on and making obscene hand gestures.

The stars had already aligned once to bring you two back into each other’s lives. You’re not waiting till mercury falls into retrograde to for another chance to fuck this up.

“You are an impossible standard, and you know you are.” you tell him through gritted denta. “Sober or not, if we frag you’re gonna ruin me for anyone else. So go ahead-” you reach for his servos, plucking them from your shoulders and planting them firmly on your hips. “-and fucking ruin me.”

Starscream inhales sharply. Then jerks forward sharply. Then grabs your waist, pulls it against his and crashes his lips against yours once more sharply.

Softly, you yelp in surprise. Softly you melt into it, losing a fluttery moan as his servo slides down to the small of your back, holding you steady even while he pushes you down onto the stage. Quite loudly you whine as his other hand finds the base of your left wing, pinching them betwixt his thumb and index digit.

Erogenous zones in a truly alien bit of anatomy flare to life like a litebrite set, twinkling in a magically mundane fashion at the edges of your nervous system. It’s something like lips, nape of your neck, and inner thigh all twined into one nerve cluster wet nightmare, one that has you hooking your legs around his hips and squealing against his mouth as he dips you into the floor.

The squealing again, this time in pain as your flared right wing crimps miserably against the floor. Airplane man, to his credit immediately pulls your frame up off the floor and back against his body.

“Fold them in, my dear.” he says, breaking away from your lips to reach for the wing you’d nearly sat on, tucking it in against your frame. “It’s worth the extra effort, believe me.”

You, reeling both from the endorphins still crashing through your veins and from the visceral reminder you’re not at all used to this *new* prison for your soul, need a moment to form words. “I...okay.” you exhale, folding what rightfully feels like an extra, lightweight leg sutured into your back up and against it. “Is there...uh...anything else I should know about this uh, frame?”

“I’ll tell you as we go.” He rears back, optics softening even as they narrow. “I’m going to level with you, I’ll be getting a bit bossy. There’s simply no part of me that enjoys being subdued, I’m afraid. Primus knows I get enough of that treatment *outside* the berthroom.” He works his jaw for a moment, though wither that’s from less-than-fond memories or the quid he’d discarded prematurely, you’re not sure. Is...is that going to be a problem?”

If it is going to be a problem, it’s going to be your problem, because there’s no way in hell you’re backing out now. “I can do either.” You say with absolute sincerity, all too eager to pass your whip and chains to his hands. “Just gimme a safeword, and we’re good.”

The silken, serene smile returns to his flawless face. “Right then. What’s the name of that organic spice you used to make this sojourn possible?”

You squint your optics in thought, thinking back to the agonizing lab session literally less than 24 hours ago. “Pepper?”

“Then it’s pepper.” he cocks his helm. “I trust you know how to use it?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

“Very well.” He pauses in thought for a moment, though only a moment, before that sweet grin takes a subtly capricious flavor. He detangles himself from you, rising to his peds only to step over your delightfully disheveled form, trapping you between his perfect legs. “I noticed you noticing these-” he runs both servos up his silver calves and thighs “-a fair bit more than the rest of me. Why don’t you start paying your tithes there, and this deity will make it worth your while?”

Honestly the payment sounds equal to or better than the eternal reward. But you don’t tell him that as you lower yourself to the floor in a reverent bow and press your mouth to the hollow of his ankle, plying the not-quite-entirely-solid metal between your lips. Then, when met with no resistance, sliding your glossa out and making long, urgent strokes beneath he ball of his ped.

Your god shudders, wincing pleasantly as he leans his weight back into the pole. “Oh my. Getting right down to business, are we? Not a shred of disobedience in you?”

“Nah.” you lift your helm to plant a kiss on the tip of his stiletto, before drawing your lips up to his calf, oh-so-carefully pinching the metal between your denta. The texture of either so vibrant tears nearly spring to your optics. How is he real. How. “Are you gonna punish me for being *too* good?”

“I’d be an awfully inconsiderate master to do that.” he gives a low hiss, then a not-so-subtle jerk of his hips, indicating his thighs are trying to clamp shut. “Unless that’s something you’re interested in?”

You take a moment to respond, preoccupied with nipping at the protomass exposed near the top of his legs. God the way his plating comes together makes them look like thigh-highs Wicked, steel, razor-sharp thigh highs. “Not especially.

“Then we’ll do the opposite.” he says, peering down at you, placing a reassuring servo atop your helm. “You’re doing an immaculate job, darling.”

At “darling” you find your thighs involuntarily clenching together, because of course.

Of course this dude’s into dolling out the praise he’s personally starved for. Of course *uplifting* those around him as apposed to grinding them into the carpet gets him going harder while he’s gliding. Of course he just introduced a sweet, gentle dominatrix fetish you didn’t know you needed in your kink catalog.

You loose a muffled growl against metal flesh, painfully aware of not only a throbbing ache between your legs, but also an uncomfortable pressure further towards the front. Jesus this is gonna take some getting used to.

“Oh frag.” he murmurs, optics half shuttered as you shift your weight to your knees, straightening to cup his ankle and ped in your palm as you press your lips to the back of his knee. He sinks further back against the pole, leaning his weight into the other leg. “Vector-fraggin’-sigma you’re good at this.”

You’re beginning to wonder if seeker legs serve as sexual soft spots the way wings do, or if that’s literally just a Starscream thing. Either way, the face he wears as you make sweet oral love to his struts is enough to throw you over the edge on your own. Or would be, if you could keep dry humping the floor. But a few precious inches further up in absolute territory is all that separates you from the panels covering his array, which at once weeps tears of shimmering lubricant through the metal and bows out in the front. The more malleable metal thinly veiling what in no uncertain terms is going to split you in half later.

Sinking your weight into your own peds, you raise yourself off the ground, making your way towards both of those things. Only for your vision to be obscured by splayed digits as he covers your face with a servo, pushing your helm away.

“Oh no, not yet. You stay down, my dear.” he purrs despite the hitch in his breath, eyeing you like a beloved cat trying to climb his leg.

Much like a cherished feline, you make a face as though you’ve been kicked across the room instead of gently reprimanded. “Okay.... How do I get to your valve or spike, then?”

“Hmmm. Good question.” he says, righting himself to stare contemplatively into the distance. And doing little more, loose smile still plastered on his face as he regards thin air with pleasant ambiguity. Even experienced dominatrixes have issues chasing the next command when rolling their tits off, you suppose.

Though he might be a bit further gone than that. After a few more moments of nothing but the confusing primal scream of your new genitals, you rap softly on his hip. “Hey, uh, my next command, master?”

“Oh scrap, right.” he startles, blinking not quite in stereo. “I was trying to calculate and...ah, hang on a moment.” He narrows his optics at the ceiling. ”How long ago did we start gliding?”

“Well…it kicked in right when we came in here.” you say, struggling with your own fractured memory. “And we were dancing together for a while before you started dancing. And you dragged me over to the mirror to”-turn me on with my own body you altruistic narcissist-“ make me feel better. And we were talking for a really long time before that, so maybe…two hour-“

“Ah ah ha. “He cuts you off with an index digit placed against your lips and a yeilding, good-natured sneer. “In cybertronian..”

You choke over your stuttering spark, because surprise surprise, that grammatical correction just turns you on even more. Stop trying to acclimate me sky daddy. “….A cycle?”

His optics flit towards the ceiling, chewing his lip in thought. “Ah. Well, that puts us at about the halfway mark, when our experience would begin to taper off and pull us molecule by molecule out of the Allspark. The operative word here being ‘would’.” He dips a servo into his subspace, emerging with a packet of dusky-blue granules that seem to pulse faintly in time with the bass in the background.

You raise an optical ridge, both the color and reactive properties recalling a skeleton you’d only partially memorized. “Is that…is that Nucleon-”

“-Nail in freebase form?” he finishes for you. “Yes actually, the very same you made for me. I salted it out of the injector this morning. Good job, by the way. Not that I expected anything less. It’s also our extended-stay pass to this neurochemical sanctuary. It’ll extended our glide for another cycle and a half, before hailing us in for a *much* smoother landing than without.”

“If it’s not in the injector...How do we take it?”

“Insufflated.”

Like you’d watched Knockout do with the circuit speeder. How delightfully trashy. “Do we need like…a mirror? Or a razorblade? Or like…a straw or something?”

With an expression you clock in at about 15 million degrees C, he laughs. “Oh no. We need only once another for this. And since you’ve been such a good pet, you’re going first.”

Gritting your denta worryingly tight and probably also the inside of your cheek, you watch as he retracts the front half of his array panel, allowing his spike to spring free. It bobs slightly, catching refractive light from the many mirrors, lasers and visualizers. With human eyes, you might’ve had a stroke trying to comprehend exactly what you’re looking at. Without them, you still might be having a stroke, with the deep carnelian and acid yellow biolights and nodes peppering the sides, the tip itself a dimly glowing ember in the relative darkness.

Syk nonwithstanding, it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life. But *with* the Syk, burning light trails and tracers into the peripheral of your optics, you’re quite certain this is some sort of holy relic.

Venting rapidly, your priest kneels at your side, leaving you to watch stupefied as he spreads a generous bump’s worth of powder on the shaft near the base. He then grips the back of your helm, gently guiding you towards your sacrament. “Go ahead darling. You’ve earned it.”

Whelp. You didn’t exactly sign up for this when you agreed to manufacture illicit robot pharmaceuticals, but you also didn’t give your signature for anything else that’s happened. And the *anything else*, thus far, has been the most spontaneous, most fun, most healing night of your goddamn life. In for a penny, in for a glitch switch, I guess.

With herculean willpower to not simply wrap your intake around the head, you dutifully obey, hold one of your nostrils shut, using the other to clean the powder off of his cock.

It burns. Not terribly so, but enough to make you gasp, and your optics water. Panting and sniveling, you try once more to get to your feet only to be held down by one of Airplane man’s savagely sharp ones.

“Not quite yet. Give it time to hit, and once it does, stay put until the room stops spinning. Then you can get up.”

If the sight of his swollen, glowing dick inches from your face isn’t enough to make you cream your jeans, then the pressure of his heels against the back of your head might just be. “How long? For it to kick in, I mean.”

“Likely just long enough for my turn.” he says, dangling the baggie as an afterthought. “Lie down and roll over, my dear.”

You do precisely that, sinking down to the floor once more as a dull, chemical taste seeps into the back of your mouth. “Am I supposed to spit this out, or-?”

“If you please. It’ll be slightly easier on your filters.” He extends a talon to draw a circular gesture in the air. “Face down, aft up in the air, please.”

Growling under your breath, you do exactly that, burying your face in your folded arms while your legs strain to heft your ass upright. There’s a half-second delay between the order to move your limbs and their actual movement that’s making this simple command a fair bit more complex. Maneuvering yourself isn’t impossible, but it does take more concentration than you remember. As does keeping yourself in place as the floor and ceiling begin to undulate like a waterbed, or surfboard over choppy water.

Though that’s not what’s taking up the majority of your inebriated attention. No, that’s Starscream holding your hip with one servo, using the other to scatter powder onto the exposed protomass of your ass.

“Primus blessed, you are a marvel, you know that?” he purrs, closing the bag and slipping it back into storage.

Even with your face partially obscured, you struggle to tear your eyes away from his exposed chassis, slutty little waist and noxiously gorgeous spike bouncing in plain sight through the window of your legs. “I’m...I’m starting to believe it.”

He gives a deep chuckle, one that rolls through the hollow where your bones would be. Though it’s drowned out by the squeal you give as he digs his talons into the meat of your aft. Just fucking fucking wreck me already.

He lowers his helm, and you can feel both the hot air from his intake as he vacuums the powder off your ass and a second, unholy wave of “oh god fuck me *yes* washing over you like a tsunami. The nail must be kicking in. Though unlike the Syk, it carries with it a sort of benevolent aggression. You still want to dance, let the bass possess and move your body for you. Still want to get fucking railed by the saint that provided you with both, but you’ve less qualms insisting about either. You’re in a position to *demand* cuddle puddles, *demand* those puddles turn into a fuck castle. And if it doesn’t, that’s fine and well. Everyone’s gotta be on the same page about this, of course.

But long, arylcyclohexylamine derivatives aside, you’ve very little issue asking for the debauchery you desire.

“Oh god.” you bite into your servo, smothering a full blown whore moan. “God I need your dick in me so bad-!”

“Spike, my dear.” Corrects your deity. “And you haven’t even taken yours out yet.”

That’s a good point. One that’d be easier to illustrate if you knew how to do that. “Where’s my dick?” you whimper, fumbling blindly around the vicinity of your crotch.

Starscream looks at you with the genuine compassion one would have for a neutered companion animal. “Oh, you are adorable.” he crooks his finger, ushering you forward. “A bit closer, and I’ll be happy to show you-oh frag.”

His optics widen, helm tilting downward as the Nail presumably barges into his system with a battering ram and war cry. He leans his back into the pole, sliding towards the floor. “Oh my. Oh yes. Oh frag me yes this is fragging perfect-!”

His helm lolls back for a second, chassis slowly heaving as his nervous systems finds it’s feet in this neurochemical balancing act. You watch his gorgeous face melt into a caricature of pure bliss, before sliding those sunset-red, newly hungry optics over to you, flitting from your face, the juncture of your bodies, to his spike, still twitching viciously erect in the velvet in the air between you.

“Still want me to show you around your array, pet?” he hooks an arm under your leg, both to pull you against him and dip his talons into the seam between your inner thigh and valve panel.

The tips of his talons send cold lightning bursting through the outer lips of your pussy and well up into your belly. You gasp, choking back, then on a whine as it escapes your lips. “Yes. Please please please yes.”

“And you seem awfully intent on attending to this.” he says, retracting the razor-sharp plating of his claws to expose smooth, slender, probably extraordinarily dexterous fingers to cradle the length of his cock, pumping them in a slow, languid motion.

“I might actually die if you don’t let me put that thing in my mouth.” you say without a shred of sarcasm, being terminally deficient in a form of vitamin d the sun can’t possibly provide.

His lip curls into a smirk, exposing a sliver of perfect denta as he slides forward. “Well, we don’t want that happening again, do we? So by all means-” he draws his free servo up your leg to your inner thigh, slipping those smooth, blunted fingers into the dripping seams of your panel to not just retract them, but sink *into* the freshly exposed, soaking wet folds of your pussy. All the while clutching the back of your helm, pulling your face down flush with the weeping head of his spike.

“-Go ahead, my dear.”

[walli3darl1ng]

Hey fav writer!

I got a couple of ideas when I was zoning out in math class today but I'm just going to do it one at a time cuz I don't want to overboard you and have you stressed out I don't want you to get overwhelmed you're my favorite writer right now

Okay here's what I'm thinking! Okay reader recently moved into the neighborhood and has met almost everybody except for Frank...

And when they met Frank saw Stars the reader was half butterfly!

Frank x butterfly gn reader!

Romantic or platonic I don't really care whatever one you prefer!

Also I don't mind being called Moon!

From: a new friend🌜

To: You💖

Pain is illusion by gold byeeeeee!!!!

DONT YOU EVER-

don’t even stop you’re the reason I’m even still writing on this blog, Moon!💖💖😖

But this is adorable! You know that scene from that movie about fairies and the female spread her breathtaking wings?! I can’t think of the movie oh ma gawd-

But anyways this one’s gonna be short and sweet one.

Moving i to a new neighborhood can be hard and stressful. There’s so much you need to do and keep track of, it can be overwhelming!

Which is why you felt relief when you finished unpacking and meet all the neighbors.

First was Wally, he came up to you! You think he’s a cute little puppet, loves listening to you. You remind him of an Angel.

Next, was Julie and Sally. Lovely girls! Wouldn’t stop gushing over your wings and eyes, they’re glowing like glass!

Then it was Barnaby, so funny that one! Made you laugh every moment. You guys played around too with Wally after tea.

Poppy and Howdy were next, at the store you were getting some ingredients for dessert tonight and they were impressed with your wings.

Eddie was a big help! Moving in the boxes and helping you set up your mailbox. As well as tell you about this clearing with a bunch of butterflies!

So there is where you are relaxing and sitting on a rock not noticing another butterfly loving puppet stoping himself from stepping in the clearing when he sees you in his usual butterfly seeing spot.

“Oh hey, Frank!”

Frank panicked and turns to see Julie. He quickly covers her mouth and pulls her down with him as you swiftly turn around at the noise but turn back when you didn’t see anything.

Julie protested as Frank lets her go. “That’s rude!” She whispers now sitting on her knees.

“Rude! You’re the one who spawned outta no where!” He whispers back, taking glances at you. “Who are they?”

Julie pushes him over, only for him to push her back to keep his eyes on you. “That’s Y/n.”

Just as she said it you stand up and stretched, your wings spreading and letting it take in the sun. They were glowing! The holographic glow bringing stars to Frank’s eyes.

He thinks you’re so pretty and unique! Just look at you, everything about you is perfect! The wings and glow are just a bonus.

“Hey, Y/n!”

You turn and smile. Julie called you. Frank was slightly embarrassed that Julie just called both him and her on spying on you but you don’t seem to mind. “Hey, Julie! Oh hello I don’t think we’ve meet, I’m Y/n!” You flap your wings and glade over to them and hold your hand out to Frank.

Frank smiles and shakes your hand. Then starts letting his mind run. “Hello, I’m Frank! So do you know what kind of butterfly you are? Are the wings transparent or is it a specific color? Will you let me look at them?”

“Woah Frank, let them breathe! Oh, oh! What about a sleepover?!” Julie jumps up and down pulling Franks with her to follow her actions.

You laugh and nods you head, a sleepover sound perfect! This also is a good time to get to know all you neighbors. “That’s a good idea! Should we invite the others?”

“Yes!” Julie takes your and and Frank’s pulling you two back to the neighborhood. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

“Slow down, firecracker!”

You just laugh and let yourself be pulled.

You’re starting to love it here!”