masterlist? get-to-know-me guide? read-me? idk who knows man
hi!! im aturc (which is short for "addicted to unreal characters", it sounds good so i made it my name lmao), professional fanfiction reader and glazer, i repost the fics i read here.
there's not exactly any fics that's organised by tags sorry, you can def find my fav by "aturcs favourite" or smth like that here tho or just scroll and read whatever there is
i attempted writing quite a lot of times, but they didn't work out TT
fandoms that i read: dc, cod, rdr2, hetalia, transformers so on and so forth (i have more but this is my mains)
also heads-up: i read character x reader only! not that i don't ships or anything, i just prefer these types of fics better.
tw: eagle flies x reader, chubby reader, no 'she'/'he' only 'you', implied fem reader but can be male as well(mpreg), pregnant reader, himbo/bimbo, forced kinda marriage(sorry....), demihuman eagle flies and demi human reader, bunny demi reader x eagle demi eagle(on the nose, i know, let me have this), parts.
life was rough. whether you were some bastard on the run from the law, the law itself, or just some poor soul caught in the middle of it.
living out on the ranch was some sort of comfort. you weren't born into the life, no no no. you were brought just like the cattle your dear 'husband' cared for.
a baker's kid..a pretty like gem that was born out of the dirt. in a small town, with even smaller minded people. life in town was fine, calm as the summer breeze..until some new comer came knocking.
a man here for land and land alone. he had brought some land near the town, land that was supposed to be wild and free. but with his connections it was 'his'. he had basically made himself at home, regardless of the townfolks' clear disdain towards him. you should've done the same. sneered and spat, but instead you were curious.
so you went sniffing around, and the of course got yourself trapped like a poor idiot in a cage.
the newcomer had made it clear he was your 'husband' now. even put a pretty ring on your finger when he had 'paid' off your parents to shut up. as time went on he slowly allowed you more and more 'freedom'. no longer keeping you under lock and key and his watchful eye.
today the forest near the ranch was restless and alive the day your husband had to go into town for business..so with him gone it was up to you to keep an eye on one of the ranch.
you sighed and huffed, rolling your eyes as you moved to the sheep pen's gate with a pout and grumble in your walk. about to close it until one of the little lambs took the chance to bolt. smart little thing.
with a curse you quickly closed the gate and chased after it. damn thing was as fast as it was cute. when you finally managed to catch the poor thing, the lamb, by some twist of fate had lead you into the deep parts of the forest.
"oh for shits sake-" you cursed, while looking around. noting tree after tree after tree. your ears flicked when they heard a swoosh of air, managing to catch a demi.
an eagle demi. eyes trained on you, debating friend, foe, or food...just your luck..
((hiii. i know its been so longg since i posted. i was so burnt tf out and out of actual ideas and not just shit sloop. i probs won't have a schedule, i'll just appear here and there. but i am very much checking tumblr and very much not dead! atlas out!!))
taggies : ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ @aturzz @bloomfaery @nyx-of-night ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ (just ask to join, you can even look over my other work to get a sense of me)
I've been very stressed about various upcoming events recently, so instead of doing anything constructive about it I drew stuff from my TFP fic. As one does.
Miko and her twelve-ton pet freak who decided to adopt her and now they are two halves of a whole problem. Also Ratchet regretting Starscream's entire existence because he keeps pulling scrap like this, and if he doesn't keel over first then Ratchet might beat him to it.
i wrote this eons ago on ao3 and is one of my first few HCs for this fandom so yay! also where my tfa grimlock fans at???
scenario: you're a nerd stuck with your insufferable excuse of a Space-Bridge Repair Crew on an organic planet and you're the only one happy about it.
NSFW HCs are right here :3
— You were a part of Optimus Prime’s space bridge repair crew and ended up being the defenders of the planet called “Earth”, fighting off the Decepticons. Megatron and his goons were causing quite some havoc on this primitive organic planet that you’ve grown attached to.
— Most of the others liked Earth as well. You especially. You were fascinated by its rich history and its numerous organic creatures. It was far more diverse than Cybertron, you hadn’t seen a single planet with so many unique varieties of creatures. More specifically, you grew really fond of Earth’s prehistoric creatures.
— Which is the main reason as to why you felt so enthralled when you first met Grimlock. A cybertronian(?) that was a Tyrannosaurus, you’d read quite a bit on the mighty creature. It was like a dream come true for you in a way given you were about 66 million years too late to see them. it was a nightmare for Optimus who kept getting his skid plate handed to him.
“Me, Grimlock, will crush puny autobots!” His roar shook everything around him. Honestly, you didn’t want to hurt him, he was WAY too cool to get terminated and it's not like you could really do anything against him in the first place. Thankfully, despite how ruthless the T. Rex seemed, you thought that maybe you could reason with him. The fighting against the Dinobots is causing some collateral damage and that human named Fanzone might pop one of his 'blood vessels'.
“But why would you want to do that, Grimlock!?” You shout out to him. Something deep down in your spark told you that maybe, just maybe, Grimlock could be reasoned with. He was a sentient being after all and he did possess some kind of intelligence.
Grimlock turned his snout and walked towards you. The whiplash from his erratic change of movement causes his tail to swing and it swats Optimus back into the stratosphere for the fourth time this solar cycle. He lands with a loud crash, thumping onto the floor backside first and his back shooting up from the pain. Ouch. But currently, you cant bring yourself to focus on Optimus as the gears in your helm turn to somehow get this Bot to calm down.
“Because, puny Autobot...” Grimlock paused, he almost looked confused. “Because, Me, Grimlock… Uhm… Uhhhh…” Grimlock stopped moving and pondered for a second. It was evident he was not very smart and you couldn’t help but frown slightly out of a strange sdndd of concern. This Grimlock character didn’t seem to have any malicious intent. Was he running on instinct? Or... was someone controlling him? If so who? Grimlock certainly didn't look like a criminal mastermind and he most definitely didn't just spawn out of Earth's soil.
Within the time you and the Dinobot took to think, Prowl lunged forward onto Grimlock. “Thanks for distracting him!” This wasn’t what you intended. Prowl tried to throw an attack onto Grimlock only for him to...
— HOLY SCRAP HE CAN BREATHE FIRE. Can this bot get any cooler? Honestly, you were way more mesmerised by him than you should be at this point at this point. He's dangerous but you can't help but marvel at his abilities.
— After your little skirmish with the Dinobots, Commissioner Fanzone presented the idea of melting down the Dinobot for extra parts and that made your spark drop. That was too harsh! For all you know, they were programmed yesterday! Of course they wouldn't understand collateral damage yet. Thankfully, you weren’t the only one who thought Fanzone’s decision was too harsh. Prowl felt bad for them too. Even if Prowl got a few burns here and there...
— So, you, Prowl and Bulkhead secretly team up to save the Dinobots. It was against Optimus’s orders but you didn't care, Optimus could go ahead and suck your shiny metallic-
“Why puny Autobots saving me, Grimlock and Dinobots?” He inquired, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic lack of confidence. Honestly, Grimlock was surprised that you guys were willing to save him and his friends. The King is confused even. Why would you do such a thing even after all the damage he's caused? Even after he nearly sent you and your friends to a long trip to Ratchet's?
You thought for a second, careful about your words.
“Well, cause we care about you! And I personally think that you’re really cool, Grimlock. Besides, I don't think you’re just some mindless brute. ” You replied, whispering out the last part to make sure that Prowl and Bulkhead couldn’t hear you. He might’ve not been bipedal (or so you thought) but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a mecha like you. The thought of being cared for, the thought of being seen as cool was all unfamiliar to the Dinobot— He didn't exactly spend a lot of time on his emotions after being made by the funny looking helm but...
You thought he was cool? And you cared?
Grimlock was speechless, he didn't know what to say or have any idea on what would even be appropriate to say in such a situation. He felt something in his power core, something… that he could only describe as nice. Your words kept ringing in his head but in a pleasant manner. Like a song he didn't want to turn down. Meanwhile you look over to Prowl and Bulkhead, the coast was clear and you lean closer to Grimlock.
“Hey, is it alright if I visit you guys more often?” You ask in secret with a hushed tone, Prowl and Bulkhead seemed to be engaged in some conversation. You didn’t want either of them hearing this knowing they'd reprove.
Grimlock tilted his head slightly and thought about it for a second, contemplating your words and considering it heavily.
“Of course, puny Autobots can visit Grimlock and Dinobots anytime.” He replied in a low, almost soft tone, as if he was somewhat uncertain but willing to give it a try. You couldn’t really make it out as his helm was that of a T-Rex but you swore you saw a smile.
— You had been visiting Grimlock and the gang regularly after missions. None of the other crew was aware of your friendship with Grimlock, Swoop and Sludge. You just told Optimus that you were ‘exploring’, thankfully, the Prime bought it since he's known you to be the curious type but never the reckless kind.
— But Prowl didn’t. Prowl knew damn well what you were doing. He just didn’t want to interfere. It wasn’t hurting anyone so he really didn’t see any reason for interference. However, Prowl was growing concerned about the extensive amount of time you spent on Dinobot Island. And he did often privately vocalise his concerns.
— You were the first to see Grimlock’s bipedal form! This confirmed your previous theory that they might be of Cybertronian descent. However, their biologies remained a mystery considering their frames weren’t built with the usual minerals and metals Cybertronians were made out of. Maybe they were the result of Sari’s Allspark key? Either way, it narrowed the possibilities. You have a datapad dedicated to figuring out the origins of the Dinobots.
— You taught Grimlock, Swoop and Sludge about Cybertron and how you were from there. You told them stories that they greatly enjoyed. Grimlock loves your stories and hearing about your life. You told him what a spark was, some of the things you told him did confuse him but he would just nod and pretend to understand while the other two look at you blankly.
— After two or three days, Grimlock will eventually reach the grimm conclusion [ba-dum tiss] that he wants to be with you after you told him what romance is and what love was. He'd always felt it but never knew how to label it. But his pride makes him feel embarrassed that a puny, tiny Autobot wiggled their way into his spark.
— Grimlock prefers to hang out with you in his T. Rex as it allows him to carry you on his back as he roams around the island and talk. Scaring the local wildlife and laughing at the way they run away while you glare at him for a moment. He doesn’t get why you don't find it funny!
— Now, Grimlock isn’t the best conversationalist out there but he is a good listener. He will listen and give his own commentary. Sometimes you rant about Bumblebee being stupid or how you fucked up. He honestly doesn’t have much to say as he’s confined to Dinobot island, nothing’s really going on in his life.
— Grimlock can be a real asshole. He will tease and joke about you, this happens mostly because he doesn’t get how to express love. Grimlock gained sentience like three days ago, give him a break. He really isn’t ready for such complex emotions, he’s brutally blunt and doesn’t usually care how blunt he is. So he will end up coming off as insensitive. He's new to this relationship stuff!
— He will try to find some other way to annoy you if you tell him that his teasing is annoying or if you don’t like it. Grimlock is smug.
— The second he sees your drooping expression in response to his words of mockery, he will freeze. Grimlock was just being playful! He didn’t mean to make you sad! He doesn't understand the weight of his words and he's still new to empathy.
— Grimlock will laugh at your fuck ups. He will laugh at anyone and everyone’s fuck ups. You’re no exception unfortunately. Grimlock would fearlessly laugh in the face of Primus without any hesitation. He’s just that kind of bot. He does not give a fuck. He doesn’t know how to hold back a laugh either
— It should be noted that his sense of humor can be bubbled down to Tom and Jerry or Oggy And The Cockroaches. He's immature. People accidentally hurting themselves, childish irony and bad puns make him laugh out loud. He would watch children's cartoons and laugh at them but then immediately smolder and stop laughing when Sari tells him that they're for children. Now he doesn't want to watch them. He cannot fathom higher forms of comedy like sarcasm, he will try to get it but it just doesn't tickle his funny bone..
— He’s a tsundere. Big fucking tsundere. But instead of blushing like an anime girl, Grim just grunts and his voice goes in a slightly higher pitch. He does get all nervous like an anime girl though. You can see him blush slightly if you look really closely onto his faceplates when he’s in his bipedal form, what really gives it away is his click of his cooling fans and the not so subtle steam from his vents.
— Despite his tsundere nature, Grimlock will do whatever you want him to. Grimlock is a simp (we saw that in the Blackarachnia ep), no questions asked. He will not hesitate to do whatever you want him to. Especially if he’s fallen for you hard.
— If you tease him back, he will pout and protest. Won’t admit it but he likes being commanded around by you. Grimlock can be really adorable without ever realizing it. Wait. Did you call him… adorable? Are you falling for a fragging metal dinosaur? Tch. Tch. Tch. What would the others think?
— The first sign that shows that Grimlock is deeply in love with you, is that he stops referring to you as ‘puny Autobot’ or by your alt. mode with robot as a suffix but rather by your name. 'Car robot', 'truck robot', 'jet robot'... depends on your alternate mode but he will stop calling you that.
— Grimlock, unlike Predaking, has no restraint when it comes to jealousy. He will openly fling himself onto Swoop or Sludge if they are taking too much of your time and attention away from Grimlock. You’re unaware that the conflict is because of you, you just think that Grimlock has some weird spontaneous battle instinct. You look clueless and confused, trying your best to diffuse the situation if it's getting out of hand. You wouldn’t be surprised, Grimlock and the others do have play-fights with each other. And when they do, you always cheer for Grim
— He hates that you can’t spend all the time you have with Grimlock here on Dinobot island. Grimlock desperately wants to spend more time with you. he kinda wishes that you were also a Dinobot, he hates knowing that you spend more time with the others.
— Sludge and Swoop are completely aware of Grim’s huge crush on you but they shut up about it knowing that Grimlock would throw them into the sea if they ever revealed it. But they do tease him. A lot. It would go like "Hey, [name] ! Did you know that Grim has a-" *ding* *ding*, Grimlock has KOed the opponent!. Flying punch to their faceplates in his bipedal.
— You were also quite attached to Grimlock which is why, when you ventured to the island and saw Meltdown, you quickly informed Prowl all panicked.
— Grimlock seethes with jealousy knowing that you’re under the command of Optimus and not him. He constantly tries to put up displays of strength by lifting up stuff like boulders or heavy weighing items or heck, you to show you how much cooler he is than Optimus. Honestly, he just hates Optimus. Optimus does not understand why Grimlock dislikes him so much when the two meet up once again because of Meltdown. Once Meltdown was defeated, an terribly embarrassing exchange of words took place.
“Listen, Grimlock, I don't understand why you don’t like me. If it's about-” Grimlock rudely cuts off a stern and angry Optimus. “No! Me, Grimlock don’t like you not because you put Grimlock and friends into cement!” He snarled, irritated. Grimlock was easily annoyed and the way Prime was so persistent on an answer bothered him. You, Prowl, Sentinel and the rest of the Dinobots went silent as all of you watched this exchange.
The tension withered away as awkwardness crept into the empty space left for words as the T. Rex figured out what to say next, a hint of vulnerability as he looked down, trying to articulate what was on his processor. Grimlock switched to his bipedal form, facing away from you and Optimus. Optimus looked confused, very confused. He was almost certain that was the reason.
“Well, then… Why do you hate me?”
Grimlock grumbles something, incomprehensible to Optimus which makes Optimus' temper flare, he's in a bad mood and the Prime only just wants to resolve this mystery dispute he has with Grimlock and he doesn't even have the slightest clue over what Grimlock is being so aggressive over. “Come on, Grimlock! I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!” He exclaimed with a hint of exasperation, the Prime was extremely frustrated. Optimus wanted to right whatever wrongs he did to Grimlock, he’s certain that Grimlock could prove to be a powerful and useful ally, given how he helped out with tackling Metldown. Only if he weren’t such a difficult mech!
“You have what Grimlock wants.” He speaks, hesitant. His tone was low and uncharacteristically soft, almost as if he was embarrassed.
”Well, what do you want?” Optimus asks, completely dumbfounded now. He questioned if Grimlock even had the capacity to have interests other than wrecking things and fighting. What could he possibly have that Grimlock would want? Was it oil? Energon?
“Grimlock wants… Grimlock likes…” He’s simply too embarrassed to say it out loud, his optics fixated on the ground as if he was some overgrown sparkling. He sighs and lifts a single digit, pointing at you. Helm to the floor as his faceplates are practically on fire, steam puffing from his vents as his dermas are pursed into a thin line.
“...”
“Pfft- reall- OW.” Prowl bonked Sentinel’s head.
— After the whole extremely awkward confession, Optimus agreed to let you hang out more often on Dinobot Island but now the aura between you and Grimlock is also extremely awkward. Bumblebee is teasing you. Sentinel on the other hand thinks its pathetic, he isn’t even a proper Cybertronian for Primus’ sake. Prowl isn't sure how to feel and Bulkhead is sort of supportive? He thinks it's sweet.
You and Grimlock were sitting on the floor, Grimlock was in his bipedal form with his legs crossed, you sat in a similar posture next to him, both of your optics averted from one another as you stare into the grassy ground below you.
“…” Grimlock began as he leaned close towards you. “Me, Grimlock, am sorry for…”
You cut him off as you hesitantly turn towards him. “You don’t need to be sorry for anything, Grim.”
You cupped his helm between your servos and he's frozen, you've never really touched him so tenderly but he immediately loves it. “I… kinda like you too.” You muttered out with embarrassment, your own faceplates on fire as you look away for a moment.
Grimlock felt like the happiest mech alive at that moment, his faceplates flushed and his jaw slightly parted as his optics went wide, of course you wouldn’t notice his optics due to his visor. You know what, maybe truck robot isn’t so bad after all.
— Grimlock lets you hold his flame sword but he’s extremely cautious about the whole thing to make sure that his sword doesn’t even bring the slightest harm to you. Grimlock doesn't want you hurt. He cares deeply about you.
— Grimlock is the type of guy to try and fight the sun if you start complaining about how hot it is. He might not look like it but he’s willing to go across the universe for you.
— One time, you caressed his helm when he was in bipedal form and his head literally caught on fire. You were extremely concerned after that. Grimlock had to convince you that it was a natural response to affectionate touch.
— The thing Grimlock likes the most about you is the way that you treat him. Everyone else treats him like an idiot, even his fellow Dinobots sometimes but you don’t see him as a brainless brute. You treat him with patience and respect and that makes him swoon.
— He will give you rides on his back in T. Rex mode.
— Grimlock is a huge cuddle bug. He craves your physical touch and affection and attention constantly. Grimlock can be real childish some(most)times.
— If you won’t give him the attention he so desperately craves for, he will just loom over you and follow you around in his alt. mode until you do. He’s like a puppy but a really stubborn one. He demands your attention. He will even swoop you up into his servos at one point with pleading optics.
— If you threw something, Grimlock will fetch it for you out of pure impulse. Running after it in his T Rex alternate and walking back to you in bipedal with the item in his servos. As I mentioned before, he’s like an over-grown puppy that can breathe fire.
—When it comes to romance, Grimlock is probably one of the most coy mechs out there. Grimlock tries to be stoic but it doesn’t work, he falls apart fast. Simplest words of affection like “I love you.” or “I missed you.” is enough for him to go from confident to shy in an instant. Interfacing would probably kill him from embarrassment.
— But once he gets used to your words (which he will at some point), he will just be incredibly smug about it. Like you missed him? Hah! Of course you would! He's the Grimlock. There's a lot to miss about him.
— Grimlock adores rubs, neck scratches and just being caressed in any way. He hates getting tickled though. Grimlock is really ticklish and you have used that to your advantage on multiple occasions.
— Grimlock loves it when you fawn over how cool he is and he will get jealous of whoever else you find really cool, the poor bots that are on your ‘cool people’ list are the sworn enemies of Grimlock. They are his tackling practice dummies.
— P r a i s e t h e m i g h t y G r i m l o c k. Feed his ego and tell him how amazing he is. He will be cocky afterwards so brace yourself for the consequences. The other dinobots will damn you for that because now they have to put up with an even more ego inflated Grimlock.
— He might not say it outright but he’s actually sort of embarrassed at his way of speech. Grimlock just doesn’t know how to speak outside of in third person and he won’t show it but he’s sort of insecure about it. He’s insecure about lots of things and he needs your constant reassurance. Grimlock is well aware that everyone thinks that he’s just a big dumb brute and he doesn’t want you of all people to think so about him. He usually doesn’t care about what other’s think but what you think means the world to him.
— He’s a sucker for headpats.
— Since he can breathe fire, sometimes he takes the liberty of being a walking talking heater. You rest on his chassis, face against his chest as he warms himself up and the two of you drift off into recharge.
— He will get all flustered over the smallest bits of affection. Yes, even hand-holding. Holding each other’s servos is probably his favourite thing to do with you. Yours are very nice to hold onto and he likes how it feels to have your digits intertwined. He loves you servos in general because you use them to touch him.
— One time, you smothered Grimlock’s faceplates in kisses while you sat on his lap and his whole frame went rigid. He swore that he almost passed out from overheating. The confident leader of the Dinobots turned into a stuttering mess. Just don’t do it in front of the others... please.
— Grimlock pretends to hate pet names but he actually kind of likes them. Its a love-hate relationship.
— Grimlock loves it when you bring back things for him from your missions. He revels knowing the fact that he’s always on your mind. His favourite things you bring back for him are probably the weird dinosaur keychains. Grimlock is flattered that the humans make merchandising of him and it sort of makes him more chill around humans.
— Now, the love of his life is an Autobot who’s here on Earth to take care of the Decepticon pest so naturally you have to engage in the field and he won’t say it but he’s worried. You’re so puny and small... the Decepticons are so much more deadly! He knew that especially since Megatron basically made him. Speaking of which, you came to learn you were dating the enemy’s technical ‘son’. You didn’t know how to feel about that.
— Speaking of Decepticons, he will without hesitation tackle down a Decepticon if they are a threat to your life in any way whatsoever with Swoop and Snarl joining in. They will literally jump the Decepticon which ends up giving the rest of you time to prepare yourselves.
— Grimlock will gladly accompany you on a mission if you ask him to tag along. Him falling for you has made him far more complacent with the Autobots as a whole so Optimus is a bit more approving of your relationship. You're like Cybertron's ambassador to Dinobot island.
— You had to introduce him and the rest of the Dinobots to hygiene. Like, none of them cleaned themselves until you came along.
— He really really really loves you, he’s your number one simp and fanboy. If anyone insults or makes jokes about you when he’s around, he will start a fight. Only Grimlock is allowed to tease you. Bumblebee once joked about how shitty your aim was when Grimlock was present and Grimlock began rambling on in grammatically broken sentences that would’ve made any English teacher’s head explode about how amazing you are then and there. Anime fans can’t compare to the way he defends you from such horrendous accusations.
— You’re probably the only person who’s able to make Grimlock form a sentence without using less than fifteen words.
— Grimlock love love love loves when you come to him for protection from something. He loves knowing that you rely on him and yes, he will be smug about it. He’s just like that.
— In private, he will be slightly bolder and give you soft chaste kisses on your faceplates.
— Rest of the crew teases the fuck out of the two of you, except Ratchet. Sentinel is on your case 24/7 and Optimus… doesn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand, your relationship is cute and helps repair his and Grimlock’s weird enemy-friendship but on the other hand… It's Grimlock. He’s like the most arrogant mech the Prime has ever met. Bumblebee calls you a ‘Xenophile’ as a joke while Sari teases you, asking you where your dinosaur boyfriend is (you had to do research to understand what a boyfriend was). Prowl is like 'i know what kind of bot you are' with a knowing smile and Bulkhead is lowkey very chill about it, he's given you his thumbs-up.
— This mech is willing to give you his life. He really loves and cherishes you. Grimlock is a good boyfriend. For a ruthless fighting machine. Golden retriever but really possessive.
also, if it does interest anyone, a friend of mine decided to use these HCs to make a fanfic series on ao3! please check it out, it's titled Dino Lover!
How would Grimlock behave if he were in love with a reader? ~
Grimlock x Cybertronian! Reader
I'd like to disclaim that I'm not a native English speaker, so the entire text was translated. I apologize in advance for any errors or inconsistencies <3
There was a storm in Grimlock's skull.
Not a storm of thoughts—there weren't many thoughts—but a storm of sensations. It was noisy, hot, and confusing. It was like a malfunction in his optical sensors, where everything was blurry and sparking, but this malfunction was happening within his entire being.
He didn't understand what it was. The word "love" wasn't in his vocabulary. Instead, there were words like "Strong," "Weak," "Enemy," "Friend," and "Mine." And with the latter word, something strange was happening.
When he saw you, his processor would hum with a low, uneasy sound. His fingers would clench into fists, not out of anger, but out of a painful tension. He wanted to... what? Break something? No. To protect? Yes, but not only that.
He was drawn to the reader, as if by a powerful magnetic field that he could not overcome. He did not choose to be near you. His feet carried him to where you were, and once there, his powerful processor, capable of calculating the trajectory of a strike in a nanosecond, froze in a helpless stupor.
Why? he asked himself aloud, looking down at his hands. "Why is Grimlock here?"
There was no answer. There was only that tugging feeling in his chest. The instinct to be close. To mark her with his scent, his presence. To drive away all the other males. To bring her the most shiny, the most durable part of his prey.
He interpreted it through the only lens available to his narrow mind: power and possession.
He didn't understand that he was in love. He just knew that when you were around, the world seemed brighter, and his own strength took on a new, strange meaning. He wasn't just protecting a bot. He was protecting his sun, which warmed his armor with an incomprehensible but desired warmth. And this fire within him was stronger than any plasma blast, more terrifying and beautiful than any battle. He didn't even know what to call it.
~ So how would he behave if he was in love with you?
1. Showing off his strength is his love language. He won't say, "I like you." Instead, he'll say, "Grimlock is the strongest! Grimlock can break a Decepticon with his bare hands! Watch!" He'll try to impress you with his feats, often in a showy manner. When he sees you, he might intentionally roar louder, break walls in his path, or challenge someone bigger to a fight, just to show you how powerful he is.
2. Primitive "help." He'll try to help you in his own way. For example:
· If you're injured in battle, he won't pick you up gently. He'll roar and hurl the enemy into the distance, then rudely point a huge finger at you, saying, "You're not fighting well! Give it to Grimlock, Grimlock will protect you!"
· He might bring you a "gift" - a piece of debris that was supposed to be a part of another new mechanism for Wheeljack, which he personally crushed, or a piece of particularly durable alloy that he bit off from Megatron. These are valuable items to him.
3. Jealousy and possessiveness. The canonical Grimlock considers himself a king, and what does a king do? He asserts his rights. He won't be cute and jealous; he'll be blunt about it.
· If he sees you chatting with someone like Bumblebee, Grimlock might step between them and bark, "My reader! Get out!" (meaning, "I've chosen her, and she's under my protection.")
· He might point at other Autobots and say, "He's not a good match for you! He's weak! Grimlock is strong!"
Clumsy gifts. He might bring you the wreckage of a Decepticon drone that he personally crushed, or someone's stolen item from someone else on the Ark. In his world, these were valuable items that demonstrated his strength and prowess.
4. Awkward attempts at interaction. He will be constantly around, but he won't know what to do. He might sit silently in the corner of the room where you are, just staring at you (which can be awkward). Alternatively, he might hover around you, stepping on your feet (literally), and dropping things that you are trying to fix, trying to "help."
He may also find himself constantly nearby. He might simply stand behind you, breathing down your neck, unable to think of a way to start a conversation.
5. Speech is a pain. He doesn't express complex emotions with words. All his tenderness (yes, he has some!) will be expressed through actions that he perceives as a display of strength and care. The phrase "Grimlock likes you" might sound like "Grimlock has decided that you will be his queen! Don't argue!"
this is actually kinda silly and concerning at the same time
also
"He was protecting his sun, which warmed his armor with an incomprehensible but desired warmth. And this fire within him was stronger than any plasma blast, more terrifying and beautiful than any battle. He didn't even know what to call it." DAMN
May I humble ask for some love given to my favorite bot Grimlock!!! Maybe a kiss!
When I got into transformers and saw Grimlock I knew I found my favorite character! (I just love dinosaurs might be the autism)
Love your work and take care of yourself!!🩷
⋆˚࿔ grimlock x human reader sfw ficlet
thank u for the kindness, i truly appreciate it!! sorry it took me a while to get around to writing this. i hope it’s okaaayyyy <33 i’ve not written for grimlock before and i find him a lil tricky to get right :’)
not sure if it needs a cw but uhhh there's a dead animal in the beginning of this!
Being with a mech like Grimlock is certainly an interesting experience. He’s more primal than his fellow Cybertronians, and his idea of romance is bringing you dead birds and rabbits. They’re gifts, he insists, no matter how horrified you might look in the moment.
For all his oddities, he’s kind and sweet to you. He’s incredibly protective, one might say a bit too protective, but his intentions are pure. He just adores you, and wants to do right by you.
Today won’t be any different, it seems.
He trudges into your shared living space, dragging another poor, dead animal in tow. Something seems to be weighing on him, the air around him is pushed outwards in a repelling way. Lounging on a mountain of blankets and pillows, you look up from your book at his arrival, seeing the fatigue drawn over his relatively featureless faceplates.
“What’s the matter, ‘Lock?” You ask, closing your book before setting it aside.
“Grimlock tired,” he says dejectedly. Your eyes trail down to his most recent hunt hanging in his servo. This is how all meat humans have starts out, but seeing it so clearly in front of you is a little unsettling.
“Why don’t you put that on the counter and then come for some cuddles?” You suggest, shuffling over on the nest of blankets and pillows to make room for him when he joins you.
He doesn’t answer you, but takes a slight turn to put down his winnings. You’ll have to try drilling it into his helm again that you can just go to the shops and buy whatever you like, and he doesn’t need to do all of this. But you know there’s a sense of pride in it, to be the protector that brings you gifts and means of survival.
As soon as he’s set the animal down, he paces over to you in long strides, quicker than he did when he was entering the room.
He practically glides down over you, immediately resting on top of you. He’s careful with his weight, making sure to brace himself even as he settles.
You wrap your arms around his broad frame, smoothing your hand over the back of his helm.
“Grimlock… Likes human’s kisses,” he burrs, nuzzling his face against your middle. You place your hands on the back of his helm, stroking tenderly whilst he tries to imbue with your energy.
“You want some kisses?” You ask.
“Yes,” he replies simply.
"Come up here," you encourage.
Like a magnet, he pulls up to be level with you. You can sense the tiredness in his visor, but he rarely likes to speak about his day. If you ask, you'll just get a huffy response that isn't worth the sourness it causes. You cup the sides of his helm, bringing him down further so that you can start kissing against the smooth metal of his faceplates.
You start out just below his visor, kissing along it to make the circuits in his processor spark with joy.
He rolls you both over, making you straddle him whilst you continue to shower him with kisses. He’s purring beneath you, and his large servos map your back and waist with sensual caresses. He can’t help it, he loves touching you, he loves being physically close to you.
Such a big softy under all that strength and fearsomeness. He can take down any foe, but folds whenever you’re around. The one thing he isn’t able to combat, and even if he could, he wouldn’t want to.
His warm servos slip under your top, stroking up and down your spine. Shivers spill over your arms and back at the soft touch. It pains him that he can’t kiss you back, but you don’t seem to mind too much.
There’s no lust or sexual energy behind the touches, it’s simply a desire to be closer to you in any way he can. Whatever troubles he was dealing with earlier today have now evaporated from his processor, now caught up in the moment with you.
“Grimlock loves human,” he hums with content. You giggle, cupping the sides of his helm as your kisses focus on the front of his guarded faceplates.
Photocards set I did for TFCON Chicago a while last year :D
This was the first set, second set was already posted.
Planning on doing at least a TFP sometime!!
"Infectious" GN Reader x Shockwave, Starscream, Megatron, Optimus, Brawn [G1]
⦉Summary ❥ ⦊ Your sudden and extreme virus has had its own consequences.
⦉Genre/theme 𖥔⦊ The Decpticons all having inclinations on hinted sexual thoughts towards reader + general fantasizing about hurting them ideas (not much actually happens just fantasy... mostly). While Autobots are intended more as platonic/are more normal.
⦉Warnings ✘➥ ⦊ Illness, Vomiting/Purging, The Decepticons all being some underlining flavor of "I want to hurt you" with Reader, The Decepticons being Decepticons (terrible), Shockwave does hurt Reader a bit but nothing too crazy just some mild/quick wire man handling, Megatron grabbing reader by the back of the neck like twice to man handle them. Lots of reader being man handled this time actually, threats, Megatron’s his own warning, Shockwave having a split moment where he thinks reader tries to kill themselves just to spite him (Reader does not do that.)
⦉Pronouns ★ ⦊ You, Your, Yours, They, them
⦉Notes ✚ ⦊ Older Flirty Autobot Reader, Inspired by a 3 am ER visit for me yayyyy I lost 23 ibs in two days xd (I'm better now haven’t gained all the weight back though), Reader is long time friends with Ironhide,
Annoying.
Not a word Shockwave found himself using all too often. Yes, irritating or infuriating for the remaining Cybertron grounded Autobot forces. Whether it was Ultra Magnus or Elita One. Both were helmaches in their own regard.
You, however? Shockwave had not believed he'd found a mech he could only describe as that.
Annoying.
You'd not avoided his sentinels or traps. You'd lured them away to break or purposefully set them off and use the reaction to cause even more chaos in your wake. Not making big enforcing moves he would have to defend from like your counterparts. You were only one bot after all.
Only that meant he had to contend with you forcibly disrupting his other plans at every waking moment. Not even big things that would drive every optic or attention onto them. For example you'd broken a latch that held a large storage of building material. Meant for rebuilding the area destroyed in the last Autobot theft. And not done anything else but that. So once the building begun it was not until the shipment was moved overhelm that all the pieces of equipment came loose and crushed more than a few sentinels.
Every one of your plans were subtle. Subtle and typically unavoidable. Something that may not even be the cause of outside interference. Statistically it could always simply be a case of bad luck.
Which only annoyed Shockwave even further when he had realized it was you sabotaging his operations at every waking opportunity you'd had.
He'd promised Lord Megatron he'd capture you and present you to him functional (at his reminder). And that he would do so soon after your unplanned stranding on Cybertron. Let alone your stranding on Cybertron in the vicinity of his territory. Annoying as it was, he'd had to work for it. Not simple work either. Outside the method thinking. Ones he despised to dabble in long term.
The Rain Makers would have been tasked with hunting you down as their main mission if they weren't the main source of defense in the outer edge. Low and behold you ended up concocting a plan that sent two of them hurtling down one of the many crevices left in the architectural part of the city. Nova Storm had managed to avoid the sudden loss of control you’d caused but still crashed in root mode.
Nova Storm who had pursued you when you'd made a bolt for it.
And the only reason he'd even been able to catch you was because the left over effects of their still falling acid rain finally took you down.
Now you were here captured in his hold.
There was sometimes, on the fleeting general occasion, when Shockwave lamented his position as Cybertron’s watcher. Of being bounded here- unable to make the trip to earth to put his efforts directly on the front line instead.
This was not one of those times.
Frankly Shockwave was glad he didn't have to deal with you on a regular basis. Let alone have you be one of their reoccurring battle opponents. You were dangerous and more importantly... annoying. Shockwave would gladly settle for Ultra Magnus or even Elita One in these circumstances.
The names- Primus and pit, the names. "Pet names" you'd said. Making his audial enhancers flick and his digits twitch at the incongruous drivel that made it’s way out of your mouth. No place for a battlefield, let alone in his presence. The fact that Megatron had let it slip this was your "little habit" and even he'd been on the receiving end of them, did nothing to quell said irritation. Clearly you needed your vocalizor adjusted if you didn't know how to behave with it fully functional.
Nova Storm had lately suppressed a chassis shaking engine growl when he was dropping you off bound and subdued. You'd said something to him with an amused smile on your derma that gained an immediate reaction from the seeker. All before leaving as quickly as possible before he had to deal with you for even a moments longer. Leaving you to be Shockwave's problem prisoner to instead retrieve his missing trine.
Shockwave of course gagged you as soon as he could find the blasted thing. Before he locked you behind the closest energon powered bar cell on the off chance you would make an escape.
He'd flagged Megatron to inform that you were captured and to be picked up via space bridge for transfer at his leisure. The praise he'd received from Megatron at his success still humming lightly in the back of processor when a sound broke his thoughts.
The sound was loud. A thud. Loud enough it gave him pause. Meaning it was loud enough to give him much worse than that.
Shockwave paused immediately to go investigate, only to unexpectedly find you on your front, face down and twitching. He'd loudly lamented and lambasted the obvious ploy at getting him to drop the fields. Waiting for you to stop with your embarrassing display.
Only for a leak of energon to slip out between the gaps of your gag and onto the floor.
With a curse Shockwave flagged for back up from his sentinels and dropped the bars.
Once he'd removed the gag, you jerked against the ground and purged violently. It sounded as if you were purging so violently you were struggling not to inhale your own sick into your ventilation system. And with the amount you'd spit up onto the floor and nearly on himself, he'd immediately gained a sickening sense of dread in his chassis.
One that was immediately followed by rage. Having jumped to the conclusion that'd you'd taken something before he could gag you. Poisoned yourself. It wasn't a new event for Shockwave, suicide over prisoner as a fate. Though it had certainly been a while since he'd been on the receiving end of it and been taken off guard. After he’d reported you alive and well-!
You would not be denying him a proper delivery to Megatron!
He'd had to haul your limp leaking frame into the main room with due haste and plug you into every machine he could, to try and reverse the damage you'd already done to your frame. You would not be escaping Shockwave’s grasp that easily.
He'd managed to stabilize you and much to Shockwave’s chagrin... his tests concluded you hadn't attempted to kill yourself simply to spite him.
No, you'd merely caught a virus. A virus that had quickly mutated in your frame and begun shutting your systems down by force. Though the treatment was necessary to keep you alive, his momentarily emotional reaction was anything but. Even if it was warranted considering the current context clues he'd had.
He couldn't gag you or make heavy altercations to your frame least he risk your already waning stability. So, unfortunately Shockwave was left stuck when you'd regained enough of your stability to flicker in and out of consciousness.
He was subjected to one of said moments when he was cleaning the remaining overflow of purged energon out the more delicate wiring of your chassis. Not trusting a mere sentinel with the rather diaphanous task.
Your harsher venting had evened out to slow before your voice fell on his audials yet again. "Hey Playboy, I still say... take me out for a cube before you start rooting around in there. Have... some class." Shockwave did not know what exactly a "playboy" was but the tone and context in which you'd said it in- coupled together with the other names out of your mouth- only made him dislike it on principle.
"Believe me, I would have just adored to have you taken out back and smelted down for spare parts, Autobot. Be gracious Lord Megatron has requested your continued function." For whatever means he'd felt necessary. Rather frankly and admittedly, only in the confines of his own processor, over the time Shockwave had come to… understand.
Understand why Megatron had ordered you be kept alive.
You were a strong solider, yes. A high ranking officer, yes. And a long surviving problem as well, yes.
But the needling and the things it brought with it with your words and actions. Were quick, sharp, and easily overwhelming at times. The seemingly no outlet and ever building contempt and instinctive reaction pursing forward to meet it.
Loathe as he may admit it, Shockwave had even begun entertaining (on his more heated cycles with you) on other punishments he could subject you to when he'd captured you. Ones he should not be entertaining when Megatron was quite firm about you being his, and only his right to deal with. However, again loathe as he must admit, you had a certain... annoyance to you that seemed to wedge itself directly underneath the wrong section of a bot’s plating.
"Aw, Playboy... don't get jealous of Megatron." Shockwave went utterly still. "It's... not a good color on you..." He then made a point to purposefully and tightly grab a portion of your more sensitive internals with more force then he'd needed and he pulled.
Your reaction was instantaneous- Jaw clamping shut and a strangled noise edging in your throat cables. Frame even slightly arching off the table to try and get his hold to relax. Which he did a moments later. Your frame slouched back against the examination table. Expression going lax and hurried vents now puffing out of your parted mouth. Another lightly and barely audible noise of pain sounding out of you, when he'd begun cleaning said exact same internals.
The sound making a type of satisfaction he'd felt no inclination towards in vorns form in his chassis. But currently it was settled in his frame like it belonged there and was urging him to hurt you again while you were at his mercy.
Yes... Shockwave understood perfectly well why Megatron had ordered your continued function.
Honestly Starscream didn't know what exactly to expect when he'd waltzed into Shockwave’s lab to obtain your status and frame. You running your mouth and annoying Shockwave just as thoroughly as the rest of them perhaps. You trying and failing to get Shockwave’s attention from across the lab in the farthest cell away from Shockwave. Starscream having to drag you out of the lab by the back of your throat while you, in stasis cuffs, had to obey him.
What Starscream had not foreseen was you on one of the main experimenting tables, with multiple wires hooked into you.
All while your colors weren't as solid as they should have been.
"What did you do!? Of all the pit slagging idiotic no processor tracked decisions-!" Shockwave may have been on Cybertron for vorns. But surely surely that brute half-wit that Megatron is, would have no doubt ordered you to be kept alive! You were worth your weight in Shainx and then some still functional. You were the pathetic Autobots spark. They can't use you to their advantage if you were gray and gone! (He also couldn't break you himself if Shockwave had fragging done it himself in the most unsatisfactory way possible!)
Shockwave only huffed nonpartisan, his one servo smoothly dancing across the keys with a skill that only came from vorns of practice. "I didn't do anything Starscream. Lord Megatron had conveyed he'd wanted them as functional as possible." Eventually he turned the screen to face Starscream, stopping to point his gun attachment at a scan of your frame. "They'd simply caught a virus when they'd crawled through vorns old disabled and dead frames to flank The Rain Makers." Starscream approached and squinted at the diagram. He could read it- of course he could! He was one of the few who had to dirty his servos trying to fill in position of Decepticon medic. Before they'd gotten a hold of The Constructicons on that human infested planet.
Starscream's frown deepened at what he read. Your fuel tank was urging you to purge everything you had in your frame and than some. The virus seemed to be causing your nanities to malfunction and begin attacking your own systems. Some of your physical systems had already shut down due to the strain to try and combat the problem of you frying your own mainframe. "Infectious?"
"Only direct energon to energon contact- or fluids. More alchemical Virus. Some mutated variant that seemed to attach itself through their wounds. And caused the reaction to begin with."
Mutated.
Unpleasant and-
"No known cure?"
Shockwave turned the screen back to himself "No. A new mutation, but frame is currently responding positively to a combination of Energon Discharge Virus and Photodegradation treatments. The current problem is that their age is making the effects of the virus hit much harder than it would in a younger frame."
Starscream sneered at the news. Really- of all the no good rotten luck!? They finally captured you with no chance of rescue from your over productive allies and now you're infected and fighting a virus. You weren't mildly sick either. Your vitals said you were low enough on energon you'd have hit stasis lock if Shockwave hadn't done what he had as quickly as he did.
Starscream turned to stare down at your slack faceplate. Color just as foggy as the rest of your frame. He wasn't prepared for when your optics onlined of their own accord.
Your optics that were only at about forty percent brightness. But when you saw Starscream you smiled at him. "Aw, Doll come to visit me? I'm... touched." Your voice was static laced and dry. Your optics dimmed afterwards. Starscream had to physically restrain himself from reaching out to latch onto your throat cables to make you keep looking at him. Knowing he'd more than likely shred through your weakened metal with zero satisfaction of resistance from your plating.
Starscream’s engines growled a touch in annoyance at the circumstances. He wanted you dead and gone. Such a vital part of The Autobot strengths and a helmache in every sense of the word.
Starscream was intent of his plan of breaking you down before he allowed you to die. A borderline peaceful virus ridden final few moments? That would not due for Starscream. He wanted you begging. Pleading. Bargaining for a salvation that would not come to you. The only salvation for you being if he'd felt like taking pity on you and allowing you a moments respite.
At his beck and call and tied to his demands and wants. Slave to his desires and anything and everything he'd wanted to inflict upon you- for every single word out of your disrespectful mouth.
He'd wanted to hurt you. He still does. He still plans to. Oh, he plans to. Starscream had many a plans for you. To let you know exactly how much every little confounded word out of you was appreciated from him from across the battlefield. To let you know how much he's had his sights set on this, since you'd stupidly decided to become a piece of shrapnel in his side.
To make you understand exactly where in his good graces you've placed yourself in and what exactly that rewarded you with.
So Starscream yanked the monitor around to face himself, ignoring Shockwave’s indicative noise of displeasure.
You could be adjusted on what's functioning and not to help alleviate the strain on your system. He shoved it back around and walked over to the other monitor hooked into your functions to adjust just that.
He still had plans for you after all.
You would not be offlining here.
Starscream returning to The Victory after space bridge travel had Megatron’s servos fisting at his sides. Having already been informed that something had gone amiss in his absence. "Lord Megatron, as Shockwave had tried to convey before the attack. Unfortunately the plan has run into a... unforeseen roadblock."
"An unforeseen roadblock-?" The question was gritted. Megatron could feel his temper already shimmering at the tone he knew was Starscream badly trying to hide the fact something he found funny had occurred. You were held up against Starscream’s frame, chin tucked against your own chassis and slouched full frame weight against the seeker.
The fact that Starscream allowed you to do so with zero objections only made him glare with more scrutiny. Your plating was disheveled, out of place, your colors were dull. Not dull enough to be deactivated, but dull enough to warrant a second glance at anyone who saw you.
But one detail made his optics narrow and him approach with a purpose.
You weren't even in stasis cuffs.
But slouched and nearly dead weight against Starscream’s own form. "Yes, well... our merry Autobot morale officer here has caught a case of an alchemical virus." Starscream tilted and you almost fell onto your own front.
Megatron grabbed you by your pauldron and forced you to stay up on your shaking pedes. He didn't miss how his servo dented your metal laughably easily. His digits sinking into your plating to a degree even he hadn't planned on. Drawing a hitch in your vents at the treatment while Starscream continued on. "Quite a nasty one at that. Shockwave believes they'll be out of service for a good while simply just to recover from it. Purging their lines out every couple of klicks."
"Really now?" The casualty of the statement made his temper lower just a degree. More out of the reveal that it well and truly was a chance that had afflicted you with an ailment. Not even Shockwave employing one of his own created one's from the sound of it.
There were always benefits to chemical warfare. Quiet but deadly and not something that can be combated easily. It's something he's entertained more times than he can count. (Something he's partaken in more than once.)
Megatron's free servo reached forward to grab you by your jaw and pull your helm up correctly. Making sure to only leave mild indents in your jaw this time.
Your optics lately onlined at a dimmed setting, a foggy touch to them still present even at the closer proximity you were to him. Your vents were quiet but labored. Seemingly shaking your frame from the effort you were exerting to continue doing just that.
Megatron didn't bother suppressing the urge to smirk at the rather pathetic sight you'd become. "Well well, the great and beloved Autobot fighter. Reduced to such a pitiful state from just a little virus." Your optics focused just slightly at his words.
Good. He wanted you aware enough to know what was happening still. "Now... what exactly would be the correct placement for you in our hold as our prisoner?" You smiled and huffed. Your heat ridden processor obviously working overtime, trying and failing to have you functional at your usual level.
"Lord Megatron-" Shockwave’s voice feed through the monitor of it’s own accord.
"Yes, Shockwave."
"I'm sure our prisoner has been transferred with no troubles?"
"No, nothing unforeseen. Starscream had just informed me of our guests rather... unfortunate predicament."
"Then I'm sure he’s also informed you that they are Infectious through engeron and fluid contact as well."
"Ah, really?" Megatron turned to openly glare at Starscream at the comment while his traitorous second in command looked away.
"Yes. Though the recommended energon needed to cycle through their constant purging is quite abundant. I must ask Lord Megatron, are they truly worth the effort of trying to keep them functional just as a temporary prisoner?"
Megatron’s gaze returned to you. Optics focusing and form still thoroughly disheveled.
He entertained the thought of ending you now. Having Prime have to contend that he'd have simply grown tired of playing by your outrageous and infuriating encounters. It would be simple- easy. Laughably so. You were weak enough he could probably force his servo through your chassis and rip your spark out directly at this point. Physically feel your spark go cold in his palm while your em field slips out if his grasp like sand. The last fleeting moments of your overstayed function being at the mercy of him.
However the longer Megatron recalled said encounters the longer he'd found himself still rather fixated on his other more... entertaining fantasies of conquest. Weather it was besting you on the field of battle and using a moments chance to blast your spark right out of your chassis. Or finding yourself once again captured in his grasp and at his mercy for whatever he'd like to do with you, or to you.
You were a long standing victory he had more than a few expectations pertaining to.
One your current set of circumstances did not privy to meet either or any of them. And though Megatron was not entirely adverse to using more unfavorable methods of attaining victory. The current state of things only felt as if a “victory” in these conditions would only upset him more than anything else.
Megatron made sure you were looking him in the optics when he’d gotten even closer to your faceplate. Only a gap of space between the both of you before hissing to you. "You do not get to offline from a Primus forsaken alchemical virus and deprive me of a deserved victory over you, you old coot."
"Okay- I'll try." You smiled again and he almost bit his glossia when your em field brushed weakly against his front.
Too weakly.
He pulled back before addressing Shockwave once more "They'll be more than adequate bargaining material Shockwave. One we will be using to get energon we haven't managed to acquire during any successful raid on this planet." His servo found the back of your neck and he hauled you towards the monitor where you would be visible even on the ground. Before unceremoniously dropping you as you fell onto a crumpled heap on the floor. "Make yourself look good you old fool." He ordered before moving to flag Prime on the monitor screen.
You chuckled lightly, the sound slightly static coated when your servos braced on the ground to get yourself up on shaky arms. "That's the thing, I always look good, sugar..." Megatron resisted the urge to click his glossia at the rough sound of it.
Prime, soft sparked fool that he was, would be more than lenient on what he'd be willing to trade if he was aware of the decaying state you were in. Megatron would be able to reap benefits far greater using you as the weak struggling sick ridden bot you currently were.
And he was not one who would allow an ample opportunity to slip by his grasp.
The measure of disorganization in The Ark was more than a touch chaotic. Nothing Optimus wasn't at least part way adapted to. But still something that felt... off. Especially considering the circumstances and of your current stranding on Cybertron. They'd attempted to hail their allies on Cybertron, Elita and Ultra Magnus both reporting that you were deeper than either of them usually venture into Shockwave’s territory. And that they'd both failed to get in contact with you despite numerous attempts on your COM. Something Ultra Magnus likened to as Shockwave’s doing. Scrambling unverified means of communication.
On their side of things they'd elected to stake out the space bridge. Which had failed to yield any benefits, yet anyway. Megatron had set to have the space bridge guarded to the struts. Obviously having assumed they'd want you rescued as quickly as possible. Or at the very least not stranded in the deep of enemy territory by yourself.
The mood was rather... tense around The Ark in your absence. Understandably considering your status or lack there of and where you had last been before your COMS were forcibly disrupted.
Despite it, Optimus had done what he could to try and alleviate the strain on the rest of The Autobots. Making sure not to be shy with his appreciation and reassurances on the day to day. Stress running at an all time high- especially as of late, considering the most recent word of development. Word Elita had received from Firestar via an anonymous bot that owed her something.
Word that you'd nearly taken out The Rain Makers by yourself. Only to be apprehended by Nova Storm after the effects of their acid rain did it's damage.
It was the last reported sighting or hint of your appearance. And it was of you being captured.
It was not a sure report but Optimus much like Elita was inclined to believe it. Much as it stressed him so. Optimus knew you were a hardy bot all things considered. You'd survived this long on that and your skills. Aware and cunning to a degree- even if you did not seem to be to some bots. But as your leader- as your friend Optimus could not help but worry about you.
Especially when Shockwave would be the most likely bot holding you captive- that is if Megatron had not registered for your transfer earlier today.
Megatron had launched an aggressive attack on the city closest to the space bridge. All while keeping security on the space bridge heavy. An attack not shy about involving civilians in the damage and destruction the move brought. He'd had to divert the Autobots stationed at the space bridge to immediately work to keep the number of human casualties to zero. An effort that barley paid off, when the general he'd just spoke with informed him the people in the hospital all seemed like they would be pulling through their injuries.
Gears was stationed at the space bridge to keep watch with Ramhorn and Eject as back up in case something occurred. It was something he'd had to talk Gears into- Optimus knowing he'd would have preferred helping as directly as he could. His upset response warranted. But Optimus had to remind Gears that you also needed help. To which he grumbled and cursed under his vents but agreed to with a muttering of the situation.
It turned out to be the right decision. Because otherwise they'd of had no idea you'd been brought back to earth through the space bridge. Starscream leading you along pressed up against his side. Soundwave showing up after long with Astrotrain. The trio all reporting you looking worse for wear and struggling to even keep up with Starscream’s pace. Then you were gone just as quickly boarded on the Shuttle. Before the group could even plan a reckless course of action in rescue. (One Optimus is not even entirely sure he's glad or not on)
So needless to say Prowl's abrupt flagging of him to immediately come to Teleatran 1 for negotiations made the sinking feeling in his chassis stick even heavier on his gyros.
Walking into the room with nearly all his officers certainly had his plating want to skew even more (but he kept it as relaxed as he could). Ironhide being the only one missing, but considering the delicate circumstances Optimus knew exactly why that was the case. A few of the other Autobots were off to the side. Out of sight of Teleatran's monitor broadcast but close enough to hear what was going on. Expressions all tense or gritted in some manner of way. Optimus could only suspect the number would grow the longer the negotiations ran.
Optimus still was not quite ready for the sight that greeted him when he'd approached Teleatran 1.
Megatron standing next to you, your frame in a heap on the ground. On shaking servos. Your armor scratched and your helm down.
The lack of bright healthy color on your armor was anything but what he wanted to see.
You moving slowly showed you were still functional despite it all.
"Prime. How wonderful of you to join us." Megatron's addressal made his optics snap to attention and his pauldrons to square even further than they already were. "I was just describing the rather... dire state your poor officer was in." Megatron crouched down and didn't hesitate to grab you by the back of your neck and haul you into standing with him even on shaking uneven pedes.
The light barely audible sound you made in response made Optimus even worse off. Most of your weight clearly being held up by Megatron’s servo on the back of your throat. "Your officer has been struck by an... unfortunate virus that has been wreaking havoc on their poor out of date fire walls. Truly no respect for the older generation..." Megatron droned before turning to look back at the broadcast.
"Here is how this is going to go Prime. You are to give me exactly every ounce of energon I demand in this exchange. And I return your weak officer to you."
Teleatran 1 spat out a physical read of the transfer demands Megatron had decided on. Prowl being the closest ripped the print off as soon as it finished and scrutinized it. He visibly balked and grit his denta. "This is-!" Oh dear. "Optimus, this is-" Prowl clamped his jaw shut lately and COM'd him the rest of this thoughts as he moved to physically hand Optimus the demands to read himself.
>Ludicrous. Absolutely Ludicrous.
Even with the warning Optimus still couldn't exactly help his own optics widening at the demand. Jazz clicked his glossia at his right from where he was leaning into his space to read it himself. Before he messaged Optimus back as well.
> Prowl's right. It's doable obviously, but we can't exactly be handing them that much in supplies and expect no consequences.
Optimus was a moments away from messaging Jazz back if he truly believed they even had a choice in the matter. When your life was what was what they were bargaining for.
A sharp cough made his attention snap back upwards at the monitor. One of your servos was up to your own mouth cupping to cover it. Unfortunately it wasn't successful in hiding what was behind it.
Especially when your energon started rolling down your throat in thick amounts.
Optimus forced his frame still and locked himself in place so he wouldn't grab onto Teleatran 1 and show Megatron exactly how much the sight affected him.
"Ah, do you think you'll need time to decide on what you're to do, Prime? Well-" Megatron chose then to release you and unceremoniously let you drop to the ground in a heap. You landed on your front and begun coughing more roughly. No doubt due to to rough treatment exasperating your already delicate state.
Optimus couldn't hide his finials tilting back at an angle and his plating shaking in held back anger when a small puddle formed underneath your helm. No doubt purging more of your own energon as the moments went by.
"Time is something I do not believe they have."
Megatron raised one of his pedes up slowly-!
"Megatron!" Optimus immediately protested in warning.
But instead of kicking you full force and sending you rolling like he'd assumed. Megatron simply placed his pede on your back and pressed downwards. Flattening your frame against the ground in a moment. Forcibly pressing your cheek and face plate up against your own purged energon. You only made a short labored noise before going quiet again. (He didn't know if that was worse than the idea of you being louder at the treatment).
"Tick tock Prime, I suggest you make your decision soon. After all who knows if they'll even last the rest of the cycle. Over and out."
"Wait-!" The feed still forcibly cut when Megatron disconnected.
The silence it left behind was deafening.
Jazz clicking his glossia again broke it.
"Optimus-"
"I know, Prowl." Optimus knew that folding to Megatron’s demands was dangerous. Freely giving a warlord like Megatron so much energy to do whatever he pleased with, only spelled disaster.
"Optimus-!" Ratchet rushed up behind him and was as obviously upset about the display as the rest of them. His own optics heated a couple degrees more than usual due to no doubt anger circling in his medics optics.
Ratchet glanced at where the others were watching the four of them converse between their own panicked talking. Ratchet only getting even closer to Optimus and dropping his voice a couple of octaves. "I hate and I mean hate to admit it, and I hate to agree with rust bucket out of all mechs in the actual galaxy... but he's right." The anger in his faceplate crumpled slightly and a peek of despair replaced it. "I don't know if they'll survive the rest of the earth cycle just with how they looked."
Optimus's servo crumpled the printed demands still resting in his hold.
"Optimus. Call?" Jazz brought him back to where he was with the words and a firm servo on his arm. His em field even nudging up against him with reassurances. Optimus let his plating untighten and allowed himself stand tall again.
"Yes... I'll have to make quite a few calls to meet the demands as quickly as possible."
Ratchet audibly sighed at Optimus's words before turning and making his way out of the room. "I'll get my equipment ready with Hoist so we'll be ready to load everything into Skyfire, as soon as it's time to get them."
Optimus shared a look with Jazz who’s neutral look finally broke with a small quirk of his derma.
Optimus looked to share a look with Prowl next, who's optic ridge was creased but his door wings flicking and tilting rather liberally. Prowl eventually sighed deeply and broke the quick stare they'd shared before dragging his servo down his own faceplate. "I hope you'll be ready for the eventual consequences Optimus."
"Yes Prowl. We will be." Optimus had to be. Otherwise they'd condemn you to a soon to be death in a Decepticon cell.
You just needed to survive long enough for them to save you.
Defense was what was ordered and defense was what they'd be getting. Brawn knew that. But that didn't mean a part of him didn't want things to go sideways so he had an excuse to throw some Decepticons around. After you'd already made it back to them of course. Brawn wasn't at Teleatran 1 when buckethead’s negotiations suddenly came ringing in. But he'd heard about it. From Hauler, from Gears, and most importantly from Trailbreaker.
The first two putting their own spin on things. Hauler obviously exaggerated and fuel tank aching about how ya were as good as dead already. Gears muttering and raving about Megatron and how he wasn't able to get you out earlier. Which Brawn said was bolts and nuts since he wouldn't have even been able to work that rescue himself either. Couldn't just beat the cons, they would've needed to get you out of there before they could recapture you. (Can't be doing that with one mini bot and two cassettes. Sure maybe the battle part in Brawn's case. But getting ya away afterwards too? Fat fragging chance.)
Trailbreaker was Brawn's buddy. Neither of 'em were exactly shy about the fact. (Why would they be?) So Brawn went straight to him after he'd heard he saw what happened too. Asking how bad you actually were and how seriously they needed to be sticking to the plan. Or If you'd be able to add your own spin on it like you usually did when you couldn't be there for the planning stage.
But nah. Trailbreaker was spooked. It was obvious. Going quiet, his expression shocked before trying and failing to be neutral. Trailbreaker said you'd looked bad. Real bad. Bad enough you were already starting to lose color bad.
Bad enough he sorta thought he might watch ya offline right there on Teleatran 1, when he couldn't do anything about it.
So yeah. Bad enough they needed to be real slagging careful not to be stepping on any pedes while playing trade for you. A stupid amount of energon trading for you. But if you were actually that bad off then he can't exactly be mad at Optimus for not deciding to just march into The Victory and pull you out himself. No point if you probably wouldn't survive that fight anyway. So instead he got ready knowing he'd be going even before they told him. You need good defense for a negotiation trade. Definitely when you're trading a bot.
He wasn't really ready for Jazz stopping him and Trailbreaker by themselves before the launch.
"I need you two to to do me a favor. An officer favor." Brawn's causal stance melted away at the remark. "Keep an extra optic on Ironhide out there during the trade. For- well, obviously. Do I need to spell it out?" No, no Jazz did not. You two knowing each other so long only made it make sense Ironhide was itching to bust helms; When those helms were what was keeping them from reaching you. "Just make sure he doesn't do anything too crazy to jeopardize the trade and our bots already not great physical state. Alright?"
They'd agreed before boarding onto Skyfire with the rest to make the trade in a desert. Dry rocks all around and no organics neither. Least they wouldn't have to worry about that if it did go sideways. Only you and their own after burners in that case. His digits drumming on his gauntlets while he watched Megatron and Optimus talk. Boy, did Buckethead just love to yap.
Finally after the energon was counted by Soundwave, Megatron snapped his digits and called for Thundercracker.
Thundercracker who came out of Astrotrain with your limp frame draped across his back. Holding you up completely while he walked the distance between your sides.
Brawn waited on his heel struts. Waiting for the other tread to drop, pit breaking lose, and them having to yank you out of his hold instead.
Once Thundercracker passed by Optimus some part of him relaxed. Hoist and Ironhide rushing forward to meet Thundercracker halfway sent Brawn and Trailbreaker moving after them.
Thundercracker crouched at least and let Hoist haul you off of the seekers back. As soon as he did Ironhide put himself between you two and him. Brawn and Trailbreaker coming up on Ironhides other sides so he couldn't get any bright ideas.
And yeah, Brawn sorta kinda had to make sure he didn't stare at you when he saw ya. You looked bad. Real bad. Bad enough he doesn't know if you'd of lasted through the rest of the fragging day. Your colors certainly already fragging gave up trying to keep up with how bad you already were. But ya weren't dull gray yet. Just off color and getting there.
Thundercracker stared. Stared at Ironhide for a glance.
And frankly Brawn thought he was about to have to do something he'd never fragging imagine. And he'd have to save the seeker from a cold clock. Even when Ironhides fists at his sides stopped shaking he half expected one of them to still jut out to punch. But Ironhide stayed where he was. Planted in front of you and Hoist.
Hoist who'd turned and made his way back to Skyfire to get you worked on with Ratchet obviously. When he couldn't hear Hoist’s pede falls anymore Thundercracker finally turned and made his way back over to his own faction.
When Thundercracker passed Megatron- Bucket head smirked at Optimus. "A Pleasure doing business with you, Prime."
"... Likewise Megatron." At Optimus's words Ironhide moved. But he walked towards Optimus instead of Skyfire.
Brawn and Trailbreaker shared a look and followed after him. Megatron saw 'em coming so he just tilted his helm slightly- smirk still on his stupid faceplate. Optimus turned his helm and broke away from Megatron to instead met them halfway. Brawn would bet he saw whatever look was in Ironhide’s optics and decided he wasn't about to let it happen. And that was kinda a shame when Brawn was betting on what he was betting on Ironhide doing.
Optimus stopped directly in front of Ironhide. And they'd stared.
Before Optimus nodded towards Skyfire and eventually Ironhide sighed before turning back round. Optimus now following behind.
"Ah, Optimus" Megatron's voice cut through and they paused- and Brawn would've laughed if he wasn't such a sparkdamn grease ball. Because Bucket head really loved to yap. "Do be careful with them. Just one small squeeze- and they'd be gone just like that." Megatron clenched his fist in open air- like if you were right in front of him.
And Brawn knew Ironhide wasn't at the negotiating like him. But Brawn also knew damn well Ironhide would've done what he did and found out exactly what happened during them.
So he wasn't too shocked when Ironhide's plating tensed and his em field went sharp real quick.
He also wasn’t shocked when he turned and took a step towards Megatron. Brawn latching onto his arm, Trailbreaker his pauldron, and Optimus putting his servo flat on his chassis stopped him directly in place.
Optimus calmly turned back towards Megatron. "Noted, Megatron." His voice clipped. Definitely not happy about it as much the rest of 'em.
So they had to shove Ironhide along to get back to Skyfire and take off.
So yeah they'd came over to you after they’d started heading back to base. Well, the medical and Perceptor fixed ya up good in the pretty short time they were still out there. Mostly hooking you into everything and getting energon into your body but you were talking to Perceptor at least. Not limp and non response like scrap metal.
So they tried to see you but Ratchet immediately told them to step back before they bumped something keeping you stable, before he launched a tool at one of them. They did but they still stood where they were allowed and watched ‘em work on you.
Optimus was allowed close. Leader privileges and all that scrap. "I'm sorry we hadn't managed to rescue you before you were in such dire states my friend. But I'm glad you're back with us now."
You looked at Ratchet and smiled softly. "Ratchet." He paused where he was next to Optimus adjusting one of the wires in your neck port. "Smack him for me."
Ratchet did exactly that with zero hesitation.
Brawn laughed loudly at the sound that rang out at the hit. Trailbreaker slapping his own servo over his mouth to avoid doing the same. The rest of the rabble present either letting a laugh or chuckle slip or holding one back. A smile or a smirk on most derma. "Ratchet-" Optimus rubbed over the spot he'd been struck at as if it actually hurt him.
"Sweetspark, Optimus-" you cut him off making him look back down towards you. "Don't be dumb. Please." You slowly raised your servo which only came out about halfway above yourself towards Optimus. "You did what you could. And you kept everyone going while I was gone so don't mope. You did good."
"They're right you know." Ratchet scoffed with his own smirk on his derma despite the sound. "Now don't mope and do the important thing as leader and go plan a party for a successful mission." Ratchet stepped away from you before looking at the rest of them on the side. "Okay, now you may come closer- but!" They all stopped in place when everyone took a quick step forward. "Do not overwhelm them. They're exhausted. They don't need any excitement right now." Everyone waited as Ratchet got out of the way "Now go you glitch infected turbofoxes!" It was said with a smile.
Everyone rushed over again. Sideswipe made it first to one of your sides asking you how you survived. Bluestreak right after him and his mouth running a mile a minute about how scared they were. Ironhide was next taking the spot on your other side. Brawn also noticed Ironhide immediately reaching and grabbing your arm with a servo. His mouth still shut firm but you glanced over to him anyway at the contact and smiled.
"Primus, I feel like Astrotrain ran me over in train mode." Was what you admitted after a good amount of everyone else yapping.
You did look absolutely positively terrible. Brawn had to agree with you there. "Yeah, you look like slag too."
"Brawn!" Perceptor snipped at him for the blunt remark.
"What!?" Perceptor with his specs knew more than anyone in the damn room how slagged your frame was. "Hero, you wanna tell them they look good right now?!" Brawn held his servos out towards your obviously very slagged frame.
Perceptor’s plating fluffed a bit and he panicked "Well- I-"
A soft sound made them all glance back at your berth. Your frame shook lightly as you chuckled. It was weak and a bit wheezy but it was a laugh.
Sideswipe started laughing right after, making a few more of them break into chuckles.
You finished and dragged a servo down your throat. "Sorry... I just missed you guys."
"We missed you too!" Bluestreak said the quiet part out loud, leaning forward a bit towards you when he did. Which only made Ironhide and Sideswipe shove him back onto his side of your berth "Sorry-"
"Nah, you're fine baby blue. Everyone still alive while I was gone?" Bluestreak launched into a rant about everyone's status and Brawn sighed.
Least you were back and not grey'd out. Brawn will count his blessings about not having to do another goodbye to a good solider.
The option “You accidentally kidnap a mech” won my 100 followers poll! Here’s a thank-you fic with that theme! Thank you to everyone for the warm welcome. ❤️
- - -
You gunned it down the tiny backroad, enjoying the roar of the powerful engine while fumbling with the dashboard. You finally flipped the right thing, because the deafening wail of a siren accompanied the flashing blue and red of the roof-mounted lights. If you were going to jail tonight, you might as well have fun while you could.
In your defense, you hadn’t really meant to … well, no, actually, you didn’t really have a defense for stealing a cop car. You had meant to. You just really fucking hated the local cops, and were hoping this little stunt would fuck them over hard enough, that they might actually face some consequences. Probably not, but things had finally come to a head, and somebody had to do something.
You wouldn’t call yourself brave. It was just, you could never stand by and let people be mistreated. You’d always been the one to step up to the plate, take care of others, take the risk. This time, there was a very high chance you’d also be taking the fall.
It was easy to hate the local cops when there were only three of them in your tiny village, and all of them were absolute twats. You’d gone to school with them, and now that you were all adults, they’d traded in their unofficial title of bullies, for that of officially licensed, badge-carrying assholes.
Brandon, Ezekiel, and Krystal had gone to basic law enforcement training out of high school, come out of it with guns and an attitude, and promptly began terrorizing anyone they didn’t like. “Anyone they didn’t like” was an alarmingly broad category. If anything, they seemed to have come back from training with more swagger and authoritarian attitude than they’d left with.
People complained, of course. About the illegal searches. The random stops. The intimidation. But who around here had money for a lawyer? Was the governor going to step in? Your little town was a stoplight and a railroad track. You were all poor and, everyone assumed, stupid as a sack of rocks. Nobody cared.
…But they’d made the mistake tonight of harassing your best friend. Tears of fury and frustration stung your eyes, even now. It had all been made up, escalated because the cops were bored. Your friend hadn’t let them violate her rights in silence. And they’d turned it into some bullshit charge of resisting arrest. You’ll never forget the look on her face as Ezekiel shoved her into the back of his ugly-ass Dodge Charger. It was exactly the same as the other two, and where one went, the others followed. They were like a pack of starving coyotes, set loose to feast.
The ancient police chief, perpetually a few months from retirement, was no help. He was usually either asleep in his office, or asleep in his equally ancient patrol car, or asleep in the local greasy spoon. Nevertheless, you had sought him out. You’d found him snoring at his usual booth at the cafe. You’d stared at him through the window for a minute, lost in the gloom of twilight.
That was when you’d noticed the door to his old patrol cruiser was open a little.
You found it not only unlocked but with the keys in it, and decided to engage in a little vigilante justice.
The old car was practically a museum piece. The younger cops always begged Chief Blackwood to drive it. It was in shockingly pristine condition. The interior was spotless, the exterior gleamed. The tires looked like something out of a grainy 80s TV show. But the engine…it sang. That old car had to be modded to hell and back. Cruised like fog even on the bumpiest dirt roads.
Gossip was there was no way it was street legal. Though how the fuck the old man had ended up with it, nobody knew. It had been around forever, as much a staple of the town as the graffiti on the park benches and the blinking red light on the old radio tower.
When the young trio asked, Blackwood famously always refused to let them touch the car. Has a mind of its own sometimes, and you young’uns will just wreck her. Leave your damn Cheeto crumbs everywhere.
It would be useful if he’d had the same attitude about literally anything else they did.
But tonight, oh, tonight.
You couldn’t make heads or tails of most of the boxy equipment attached to the dashboard. There weren’t any laptops or dashcams, and the radio looked absolutely ancient. How in the hell the chief even got to keep this thing around was a mystery.
The siren and lights didn’t sound or look anything like a modern cop car. The seats were roomy and sinfully comfortable. The steering wheel huge but somehow incredibly responsive. The shocks must have been the best of their class, because even tackling backroads, you barely felt a bump. Every time you asked for more, for faster, the car gave it to you. And you weren’t entirely sure how, but even though you’d been driving a while, the old gas gauge needle hadn’t budged from F.
You stuffed another bite of flamin’ hot Cheetos in your mouth, letting the empty bag flutter to the seat as crumbs scattered everywhere. Maybe you should wear gloves like this any time you ate them, you reflecting, wiping the dust onto the steering wheel. No fingerprints and no getting your hands dirty.
You were going to drive the chief’s beloved car out to the middle of nowhere, bang it up a little, make it look like one or all three of the dickish cops had gone for a joyride. Then they’d crashed it, and gone slinking back home, afraid to tell their boss what they’d done. It would be found in a few days out by the lake - people boated and fished pretty regularly this time of year, so it would be spotted soon enough.
You pulled in to the lakefront near the old concrete boat launch. Killed the engine. Popped the door with gloved, Red 40-covered hands. Left sitting on the dashboard: the fallen badge Ezekiel had dropped and not picked up when he’d wrestled your best friend into handcuffs.
Fuckers. You stood staring at the car, its black and white coloration making something primal in you flare like a bonfire. Injustice. Cruelty. This perfect paint job was a symbol of everything you’d come to hate. Something that, on the surface, was meant to help people. Twisted by the worst of humanity’s many failings.
There was a series of concrete barriers around the edge of the boat launch. Making sure cars didn’t accidentally back right into the water. You eyed them for a second, and got behind the wheel again. Those things were thick and solid. So was the car you were in. You’d have to build up some speed to really trash the front end. You look back up to the road’s end…yeah. Swerve off there, like an accident, and crunch.
You turn around, giving yourself some space. Make sure your seatbelt is tight - no way is this thing equipped with airbags, and while you’re willing to risk a little whiplash, brain damage isn’t on the docket. At least you don’t have to worry about an alibi - you’ll have people falling over themselves to swear you’d been at their house all night.
Aware you’re doing something incredibly stupid, you tighten your hands on the wheel. Kick the parking brake on. Gun the engine until the dirt and gravel flies. Release the brake. You barely have a second to brace for the crash, the headlights bouncing back brighter brighter brighter against the concrete barriers.
You don’t even feel the collision.
You hear it: a dusty crunch of concrete crumbling. Then darkness shimmering. A lurch, and then a gentle sinking.
It takes you too long to realize what just happened. It takes until the headlights are illuminating the dark lake water, the heavy engine tipping you forward. Until you feel the cold rising around your feet. Until you look around frantically in confusion and find yourself surrounded by darkness.
Oh god oh fuck.
When you react it’s with unthinking panic. You try and force the door open, but it won’t budge when you pit your strength against the water pressure. The cold is up to your hips as you manually roll the window down. It lets in more gushes of water, making you splutter, but it’s a window to freedom, to life, to not dying doing something that in retrospect was not just incredibly stupid, but suicidally reckless.
How had the god damn car gone through those barriers like they were tissue paper?
You struggle with your seat belt. You start screaming when it doesn’t open. You pound your hands on the dashboard, on the wheel, you accidentally gash your hand open on Ezekiel’s fucking badge. You fight with everything you have. It does nothing.
The car must be horribly heavy, because it’s sinking faster and faster. And you thought you’d have more time, you thought -
- you’d only wanted to make things right.
As the water comes up to your neck, the seatbelt holding you in a death grip, you gather every last bit of air in your lungs and let it go.
HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP M-
And you’re under the dark, the cold.
When something stirs around you.
You can’t see, and that makes it all worse. You can’t breathe, don’t breathe, don’t breathe, but you can hear and feel it. Shifting. Metal on metal. Creaking. Then there’s an enormous jolt and you involuntarily cry out, water rushing into you.
The next moments are lost to time and cold and headlights shining in the dark. A wild, startled whoop of the lights and siren. Burning in your lungs. You’re lifted high, high, above the boat launch above the concrete barriers. You cough up lakewater and breathe in air. It was a warm night, but you feel so cold.
You’re moving. You’re carried out of the water and set down on the sandy beach. Bright lights in your face. Are you dead? You can’t stop coughing, and something huge shifts beyond the lights. Gently tips you onto your side and holds you there. Moves your limbs like a doll’s. But it doesn’t hurt. The whatever it is against your back is steady and, if not soft, at least warm.
I’ve put you in the recovery position, human. Stay there until you get your breath back. Statistics show you have an excellent chance at escaping permanent impairment, given the brief time you were underwater. But I must advise you not to be so careless.
It takes a few minutes for you to be with it again enough to grasp that the voice you’re hearing is one, too far above, two, oddly modulated unlike a human voice, and three…attached to the pair of blue lights just barely visible past the headlights.
They seem to realize they’re blinding you, because in the next moment the headlights dim to nothing. But the blue ones glow steadily - no, actually, they flicker ever so slightly.
You blink and cough and gasp, pathetic and shivering. It takes another moment for your eyes to adjust, and when they do, you’re too shocked to say a word.
There, outlined against the spangle of stars in the sky, the darkness of the lake, is a giant black and white robot.
It’s blocky and boxy. Those blue lights…you fixate on them as if they were eyes, set in a mechanical face that is still somehow so, so human-like.
Who are -? You manage to get out, before the wheezing takes over again.
I was about to ask you the same. I am Prowl, tactician and third in command of Optimus Prime’s Autobots. I am here to protect and serve. Do not be afraid. I mean your kind no harm.
His head tilts, blue lights flickering. What year is it by your reckoning? And where are we?
Oh, good. The giant robot came out of nowhere to save you, but it has some kind of robot amnesia. You’re slowly realizing, as your vision adjusts, that it has the police car’s livery painted on its side.
Or, his side…?
He’s patient enough to let you sputter out the answers in your own time, still supporting you as you slowly grab on and pull yourself to a sitting position. You’re holding on to giant fingers, you realize, and your shivering from the cold takes on an added emphasis from fear. Really you should have started being afraid a lot sooner, but the adrenaline and panic of almost dying seems to have shorted out your priority-making abilities.
You add your name to the info, since he’d been kind enough to tell you his - and, you know, had saved your life. But he seems disturbed by what you say.
What’s wrong? you manage to ask, despite your teeth starting to chatter.
I’ve been in emergency stasis lock for a very long time, if this information is accurate. He watches you, curiously you think, as you prop yourself up against his hand. I was pursuing a lead on a Decepticon’s trail, when I was attacked. I was able to flee, but I lost a great deal of energon. I had no time to call for help. The stasis lock took effect to save my life. It seems a human mechanic was able to repair much of the damage, but I had no way to break out of the lock without an Autobot medic’s codes.
He looks to you, and you feel his attention like a warmth. Protective. Until you called for help. It overrode my other protocols, and allowed me to break the lock and regain consciousness. Thank you for your assistance. I could have been trapped in that state for much longer.
That’s a-awful, you say, head spinning. You s-said, call for help. Is there someone you can call now? People missing you?
You try and stand up, only to collapse again. Prowl frowns down at you. We must see to you first. Your body temperature is below optimal. Hold still.
You’re scooped up by those hands - so deftly and carefully that it barely registers- and then there’s another confusing whirl of metal. Next thing you know, you’re back in the cop car, its engine purring smoothly and the heater cranked up.
Better? he asks. You shudder, not really wanting to be sitting in the seat where you’d almost died. But you get the feeling Prowl isn’t going to let you walk away in your condition.
Better, you affirm, and then with no warning you’re sobbing your heart out. Alarmed, Prowl demands you tell him what’s wrong. So you do. You tell him about Brandon and Ezekiel and Krystal, your best friend, your frustration and anger, and finally your stupid plan that had almost gotten you killed.
I’m sorry, you say miserably. I just - thought you were a car. You know, just, property damage. If I’d known you were alive, I never would have tried to hurt you.
You snuffle and laugh. That’s what I get for stealing a cop car, I guess. Or a robot that looks like one.
Prowl seems disturbed by your tale. I am a mech - mechanoid - not a robot. And I am a tactician, not a police officer. I took this alt mode many years ago as a means of fitting in, invisibly, with human vehicles. Its size and specs suited my needs. And, I believed, its meaning paralleled my own philosophy. But based on what you have said, perhaps it’s time I scan a new alt mode. I do not wish to be a symbol of something that your people fear or dread.
You shrug, unsure what he’s even talking about - alt mode?? - but you appreciate that he actually listened.
Now what are you going to do?
He’s silent for long enough that wonder if he’s fallen back into that stasis-thing. Eventually though, he says, I have a great deal of catching up to do. I can see your internet technology has come a long way in the past decades. But it will still take time to locate my team. They are not responding to any of my hailing codes. Likely, they believe me offlined, or…perhaps they are offline themselves. Or perhaps they have returned to Cybertron.
When you make a curious noise, Prowl adds, My home planet.
Ah. You’re an alien. That’s…cool, you say, slowly warming up to the idea. It would probably be a lot scarier if he hadn’t been caring for you like a lost and half-drowned stray kitten.
And, he seemed so earnest. The kind of person who might not be good with getting jokes, but was really smart and cared a lot about doing the right thing. He hadn’t even chewed you out for your little joyride, as if he’d considered it and decided it wasn’t worth addressing. You could almost feel him weighing the options silently.
I am. But I am - or, I was, quite familiar with human society. Though, I cannot say the same now. May I ask your assistance? he asks suddenly.
I will need to begin searching for my team, if they remain alive, and I would have a much higher chance of success if I had a human with me. Many things may have changed and will throw off my calculations until my systems adapt. In the meantime, I do not know what became of the Decepticons who injured me. If they remain alive, they pose a serious threat to your species and must be located.
Your head whirls. Aliens, mechs, bad guys. And you, somehow, with a chance to help. It means walking away from your life here, but hadn’t you always dreamed of that anyway?
But not alone.
You smile and put your seat belt on, your clothes nearly dry. Prowl will keep you safe. The belt seems to squeeze you reassuringly. Supportive rather than restricting.
I’ll go with you to help find your people. It’s the least I can do after what you did for me. But, before we go…
When the sun rises the next morning over your tiny town - your former home, now - its rays shine down on three crumpled, smoking Dodge Chargers, left smashed among the wreckage of what used to be the old brick jail. The jail’s alarm system has been totaled, video cameras fried, computer records of recent arrests completely corrupted, and the lone occupant of the jail? Nowhere to be found.
The old chief, word quickly gets around, has finally decided to retire.
Summary: Prowl interrupts your doom scrolling to take you on a late night drive.
Your scrolling was interrupted with a knock at your window, it wasn’t loud, not startling — a single measured tap that makes you look up from your phone.
Looking from the screen into the shining, but not blinding, light of Prowls eyes — sorry, optics. They had some weird names for things, and you were sure they thought the same for humans.
His voice filters though the given commlink, “You mentioned earlier you couldn’t sleep,” his voice was calm, but noticeably softer than this usual tone, “Fresh air may assist, get in.”
Hearing him step away from the window as you moved around the house, pulling on a jacket before stepping outside, finding him waiting for you in his car form. White and black metal reflected the moonlight, the door opened automatically when you got closer, eyes not needing to strain as the interior lights were dim and warm.
You climb inside and as the door closes with a gentle hiss, you feel the world go quiet. Only hearing the soft purr of his engine under you, no sirens blaring, no static or music from the radio, just him.
He didn’t speak much, then again he never does. But this time there's no tension in the silence. Streetlights move across his dashboard like water. His voice, when it breaks the silence, was low and steady.
“I monitor the perimeter at this hour regardless,” he says as though explaining with himself, “It’s… efficient to combine tasks.” You couldn’t help but smile and lightly shake your head, Prowl and his efficiency. Although there’s an underlying warmth in his tone, one that tells you this isn’t about patrols.
He drives you along the town outskirts, long and winding roads where the night stretches and stars shine brighter than ever. His headlights sweep over fields and quiet forest edges, the rhythm of the drive becomes hypnotic. At some point you rest your head back against the headrest, the hum of his engine syncing with your heartbeat.
You mumble something, maybe it was a thank you or maybe his name, you couldn’t remember even though you just said it. Letting your eyes shut as they grow heavy, relaxing into the seat. Your breathing evens out and Prowl notices instantly, his sensors picking it up. For a split second he considers waking you, but doesn’t.
Instead, he slows down. The engine softens into a low purr, more vibration than sound. He gently adjusts the interior temperature, making sure you won’t get cold but still comfortable. (He remembered your preferred temperature but will not tell anyone.) Keeping the music station off, routing a faint hum of white noise through the commlink to keep it peaceful. Even dimming his dashboard lights.
There’s something almost reverent in the way he drives after that. No radio chatter, no updates. Just the quiet road, the soft sound of night insects and you, asleep and safe inside his frame.
You wake to stillness, the sky is lighting but not blinding you yet as the colours move. You quickly notice he’s parked at an overlook, one of those quiet rest stops that face the valley below. Feeling the faint hum of his systems, low and content.
When he notices you shifting his voice breaks the silence, smooth and composed but still somehow carries affection. “You were asleep for approximately two hours and thirty-four minutes,” a pause before his voice came through softer, “You looked… peaceful.”
You laughed, sleep still trying to pull you back in. “You stayed here the whole time?” “It was optimal,” Speaking a little too quickly before adding on after a beat, “And preferable.” You couldn’t help but smile, resting a hand on the dashboard.
He doesn’t outwardly react at first but then his engine rumbles louder. The sun starts rising, painting golden lines across his hood, and for a brief and perfect moment, he just sits there. No patrols, no strategies, no logic. Just content to exist beside you while watching the world wake up.
