Warnings : Toxic dynamics with soft smut and a bit OOC also bot reader.
There might be some uncomfortable themes written below so read it at your own risk. English is not my first language so don't expect too much. Hope you enjoy!
Megatron :
- He's definitely the type to throw hands if you're a brat. This mech swings his fist at his soldiers for not being competent enough so good luck with that.
- Definitely bites during intimacy and yes it includes everywhere. Whether it's your servo or something as sensitive as skidplating. Dents all over.
- If he's feeling good you catch him writing poetry about you. You could probably make a romantic movie from them but if he finds out you read them you're in big trouble.
- He's very feral berth wise too. I'm talking like choking you or jerking up your neck just to get a glance at your face plate. He doesn't know what gentle is like when he's overheating.
- He likes to take charge during interfacing which is no surprise the issue is that he might accidentally break your aft. Like he doesn't even realize it because he's too lost in the sensation. He just looks down for a second and it's like oh shit.
- As I mentioned he loves biting and most importantly he likes biting you on soft plating anywhere that's soft. He's into neck bites a lot. Might sometimes even dent your cables if not careful. If you cry it makes him giggle.
- At least because of his poetic side he can be a softie too so he gives you a good aftercare. Lots of washing and polishing to make you shiny again.
- Life with him can be draining because he's very controlling and power obsessed but if you listen to him he's not half bad as long as you're not trying to backstab him or something. Just be a good bot and things go well.
Jazz :
- Even if you say the most unhinged horniest thing he's not moved even an inch. Most is getting a chuckle out of his intake.
- Because of being interested in different cultures and species he knows how to manipulate you and he's an expert it in you won't even realize what's happening.
- Jazz rarely gets angry even if you scream at him or through things at him he just stands there with a smile. Makes things even creepier than they should be.
- He uses music to alter your processor. Feeling down or tired of him? Let's just play some calming frequencies so you can go back to being a good bot again.
- Because of his independency and solo missions he's used to being in charge. He doesn't like to bottom. Like at all. Unless you can convince him.
- Jazz is the type to giggle during interface. Like legit laugh. There's none of those moans or any other noises you were expecting unless he's feeling down or you make the noises.
- If you try to escape he locks you in a room and forces you to listen to music super high pitched. It makes your audio receptors ring but at least you learn to not leave him again.
- He loves it when you customize your finish based on his colors and finds it super cute. Like do you have a design in his signature blue visor color? You're the most adorable thing ever.
Tesarus :
- Despite his looks he's actually a softie. When you're cuddling you're always tugged to his side. Never on top of or under him because he's afraid you might accidentally fall into his chassis grinder.
- Speaking of his chassis whenever you're near him because he loves you his grinder slows down or comes into a halt which makes it make a purring noise or a soft whirr sound.
- When he's speaking to you his voice turns soft and caring unlike the aggressive tone he uses with his victims or others. He lowers his tone and never raises his voice at you.
- If you escape he'll be very sad and won't even know how to punish you because he literally has that built in himself so how is he gonna teach you a lesson without hurting you? He ends up isolating himself in his room for a while.
- Good luck trying to work on something. He gets bored easily and constantly comes to you to either yap or do something together. You probably end up needing ten cycles for finishing s simple project.
- He's the definition of massive. Unless you're also similar of size you guys don't sleep together a lot because there's no way for you to easily make that fit. Unless you're into pain which if so he appreciates.
- He tries to introduce you to his crew. If he sees you're afraid of them he hides you behind his frame but jokes about it with others calling it cute. No bite though.
- If he really is mad and has to punish you he does it by throwing someone you love in his grinder and slowly ripping their pedes until you're crying and begging for him to stop. To which he tells you to be good for him from now on.
Kaon :
- He's definitely a sadist. Likes to sit you on his alt mode and give you zaps particularly on your aft and hip plating. Or your interface panel if you're lucky. He loves to hear your whines.
- He's the definition of sleeper build or at least whatever the Cybertronian version of it is. He looks thin and helpless until hoisting you up in the air and holding you bridal style.
- If you're around he gets happy he starts insanely vibrating and letting out soft static shocks. You can literally see him go bzzz if you go closer.
- He loves animals and enjoys going to the zoo. Speaking of he's also a big fan of petting street animals and feeding them especially street dogs. Whenever he goes out he brings some snacks with himself to give it to them.
- He's practically the kindest of his group so despite being a killer he often feels shame and so he has nightmares a lot. Sometimes you might wake up in the middle of the night and find him sobbing without tears because he has no optics and he refuses to talk about it. He appreciates hugs though.
- Whenever he smiles his cheek plates go up a little and his optics or holes as we should say narrow. This causes them to look like cute all black ovals which makes him look ten times more adorable if he already is to you. This applies only when he's genuinely smiling and not when he's being giddy.
- His favorite way to relax is to make a cocoon in his room with you and the pet and fall asleep hugging you while the pet purrs on his chest. If the pet isn't present or can't be cuddled for any reason he uses prerecorded purring audios to calm himself.
- He definitely uses his electric powers for punishment and while he doesn't fry your circuits he gives enough to make sure you remember he still should be your priority even if he's sometimes nice.
Tarn :
- He loves to sing for you and sometimes even dance. He can do any music genre you like and his voice is gorgeous. So comforting too because he's not trying to blast your spark.
- If he's upset about something he lowers his voice instead of raising it. Like he says something along the lines of I'm disappointed in you or we need to talk before taking you to his habsuite.
- There's no switch no sub to bottoming. There's none of that bullshit. He's a top dominant mech. The only person he might ever bottom for or be a sub to is Megatron and he's not dating him he's dating you.
- Speaking of bottoming he'd love to be in a polyamorous relationship with you and Megatron if you're open minded of course. It's literally one of his dreams come true.
- He can calm people with his voice just how he can distinguish their sparks. Whenever you're feeling scared or down he speaks to you in a soft gentle voice and all your worries fade away. He only talks to you this way.
- He draws the line at Megatron. Now he loves you a lot so if you're rude or anything he won't charge you for treason but he will lock you up without energon for a couple solar cycles so never disrespect Megatron in front of him. He cares about him more than himself sometimes.
- His favorite place to kiss is your neck right where your jaw and neck connects. He likes kissing or biting the sensitive wiring there especially if you're interfacing. Speaking of interfacing he gets tired when he's enjoying it too much like a human getting sleepy because of it's fuzzy.
- He's so composed that him showing emotions can be a tad uncanny. Especially if it's super expressive. Like oh he looks calm and sophisticated when he's angry right but the days he reacts like yells or does something those days are a horror show.
Ratchet :
- You might not notice it but when he's looking at you he smiles uncontrollably. It's like a reflex but the moment you turn around he grumbles and pretends nothing happened.
- Ratchet sometimes acts like a concerned dad if you end up hurt. It's not like he's doing it on purpose but he gets so scared he's gonna lose you and doesn't know how to get rid of that frustration.
- He's a big fan of medical play. Yes the stuff. He enjoys taking care of you and telling you what to do. Cutely enough he becomes a softie in bed so instead of HEY "YOU'RE HERE!" it's gonna be "Lay down for me please." lucky you.
- If you're sitting together he scowls and mumbles something like how annoying you are but the moment you try to get one inch away he grips your hip and tugs you to his side while still frowning.
- He's very old and therefore not a lot of bots thirst over him so when you compliment him or tell him beautiful or attractive he gets so happy and flustered. He tries to hide it but he can't cause he starts puffing in embarrassment.
- He smells like antique car like a very old and pleasant smell. Something like the seats of that 20 century car in your local museum that hasn't been rotting because it's been taken care of.
- If you try to escape he can easily get rid of your pedes. He's a medic and doing some surgery is no issue for him. He doesn't play when it comes to your safety even if it's in exchange for autonomy.
- He loves spending money on you. He's a very skilled medic and has a lot of patients. This also means he's fairly loaded with shanix. He always sends you cash or buys you things he knows you might like.
Drift/Deadlock :
- Apparently he has fangs and you know what fangs are for. But the difference between him and Megatron is that he doesn't do playful bites that cause little dents. He legit draws energon and sometimes even licks it.
- He's still traumatized from when he was a Decepticon and is afraid he might hurt you. He may lose himself in heat but he keeps apologizing nonstop during aftercare.
- He has some questionable feline behaviors including hissing at things from when he was homeless and used to hiss at mean bots. He suppress them though but when you're alone he lets a little bit of his turbocat to come out.
- He's very disciplined and this also comes to his intimate life. Before starting anything at all he prepares anything you both might need including fuel because who doesn't go hungry after a round of interface or two?
- He's scared of you leaving him it's not even comparable with anyone else he's like genuinely terrified because he's lost so much and changed factions. He clings to you during recharge with an iron grip.
- He preserves fuel as much as he can and if you ask him why he says it's because he loves you and doesn't want you to be hungry but in reality it's a habit from his homeless days when he couldn't fuel for cycles.
- Sometimes he has nightmares very bad ones and cries in his recharge but calms down the moment you cuddle him or coo at him. He seeks your presence even in sleep.
- If another bot bothers you he says nothing but the next solar cycle you find their scraps because apparently he went over and got rid of them for making you uncomfortable. Now you just gotta make something up to tell the others.
Ultra Magnus :
- He stands as close as possible to you acting like a guardian. Even if you're s strong bot yourself he's gonna be there just in case you ever need help.
- He loves giving you advice and gets extremely happy if you ask him to. He literally stops in his tracks for a few kliks before grinning widely and answering. Did I mention he only grins when he's with you?
- Expect a lot of scolding if you haven't been listening to him. He's a military man and not saying the rest of them aren't but this one is super serious when it comes to his life. He doesn't appreciate stupid behavior.
- This bot has a discipline kink which is honestly unsurprising. Just do something bad according to his rule book and act like a brat then in no time you'll have him explain how you shouldn't have done it while trying to control his temperature from going off the roof.
- He teaches you how to fight. He's a soldier and knows the horrors and you might think he would want to keep you weaker so he can protect you but no he teaches you everything he can so you can protect yourself when he's not present. Even if it means you get to argue with him.
- He's very serious with others it's like they're talking to a wall but with you he's sweet and is always smiling. Even laughs too. Most bots haven't even heard his laugh not to mention seeing it and he shows it to you everyday.
- His voice becomes more gentle when he's with you and doesn't have the same rough edge it does or the tone he uses to order around. If he scares you with his voice he lowers it and apologizes everytime all the time.
- If you buy blue things he genuinely gets happy because he thinks you bought them thinking of him because he's blue. Even if you didn't. It's better not to tell him that and just let him be happy. Like of course you got that new paint mark because you were thinking of his gorgeous blue finish.
Rodimus Prime :
- He gets super excited whenever you're with him. Constantly introduces you to others as his conjux even if it's not official yet but who cares? It's official in his optics.
- Depending on his mood he either brings you to every mission with him or if he's feeling down he won't allow you out of your habsuite because he's afraid you might get hurt.
- Primus helps you if he's angry. His entire cocky and joyous personality vanishes in one single second and leaves out a terrifying husk. He doesn't hurt you physically but his gaze makes you leak.
- He only lets the medics he trusts to fix you up. He hides it behind a confident face but in truth he's scared of trusting anyone with you. And the chances of being treated by a medic that's not part of the Lost Light is zero.
- He acts super confident in bed and he will be if you go along but truth be told that's just a bravado so the moment you tease back he short circuits and starts glitching. He doesn't expect these things from someone else.
- He loves it when you take care of him. He's a Prime and always protects others so when you do it for him he's gonna melt. Wrap him in a blanket and rock him in your servos. He's attached to you forever.
- If you do something he's not a big fan of like maybe maybe trying to escape he asks a medic to remove your precious legs so you can't move anymore. No one can stop him. He's powerful and the boss of his ship after all.
- He's super shiny especially on his thighs and chassis. He purposefully keeps those parts shinier than the rest of his frame just so he can get a reaction out of you. Literally what a brat.
Rung :
- Don't be fooled by his size. He's powerful. We all know why. If you think you have a chance of ever having your own opinions you're solely mistaken.
- He manipulates you into thinking you have your own thoughts and opinions but in reality it's just his or what he wants. He just helps you believe you're smart when you're not.
- He's an expert in psychological knowledge and uses this to bind you to himself. After some decacycles you realize you can't leave his side without being stressed and you can't figure out why.
- He's definitely a switch when it comes to bedroom activities. He doesn't look like a switch at all but he's okay with taking any side you want. He's also very open minded. As long as it doesn't include other bots.
- He's pretty short and lean but despite that he can't help but want to be the big spoon sometimes. Now aside from him being stronger than he looks having a smaller mech cuddle you to his chassis is funny and wholesome. If you agree with him he does it even more maybe every night.
- He has the ability to go from aw cutie to damn don't mind me just biting my lower lip in two seconds by taking off his goggles. And frankly if Megatron drooled over him or so it looked like it when doing that in the comics you have no chance of pretending not to care.
- He enjoys being a power bottom sometimes. He may not say it out loud but he likes giving the orders and have you do the job for him while sits on your lap like a the princess he is. If you're being good he might even call you a good bot to make you more flustered.
- Whenever you hug him you get this intense fear of crushing him on accident. He tells you to squeeze him or hold him firmly but you can't bring yourself to do it. Even if he isn't fragile a lot you still don't have the spark for that. Soft hugs only.
Overlord :
- He likes scaring you and finds you more endearing if you're easily flustered. Imagine you're sitting somewhere just minding your own business and he just goes boo in your ear and laughs it off.
- He has a big bite kink I'm talking it's massive. If you sink your teeth in his plating especially somewhere sensitive like neck or thigh you're gonna feel something rise up your aft in a klik.
- Most people think he's only a sadist but he's actually both. He enjoys being held down and used by you the same way he enjoys the vice versa. He doesn't look like it at all but if you talk to him seriously he opens up about it.
He's nasty as hell and is open to trying any kind of kink as long as you bring it up. He could give less than two scraps about being weird. He even has a list of funky things he wants to try with you.
- He's very massive I mean we all know and he enjoys using his weight to pin you down. He randomly comes close during any cycle and throws himself on you. Like a cat basically but a very big one.
- He may never mention it but he enjoys having something to scratch and destroy with his nails claws whatever it is that he has. He won't settle for a simple cardboard either you have to give him high quality thick metal sheets.
- When he's angry with you he giggles hysterically and at first you can't take him seriously. So after the incidents he does something scary alongside laughing too. Like grabbing you by the neck and holding you up in air as you cough and sputter.
- He loves wearing makeup now who would have guessed? Have you seen his lips? So he loves it when you apply his makeup for him. Whenever he's wearing lipstick he gives you a big kiss on your neck to leave the mark on you.
Warnings : None. Just me drowning in pure love and joy and affection.
I love him genuinely so read this at your own risk cause I'm crazy about him.
– He's beautiful. His optics are so brilliant and blue they look like the sky. I wanna take him to a place with zero light pollution where we can see thousands of stars in the sky so I can see the reflection of those lights in his precious beautiful optics. Like gems literal gems of turquoise.
– He's so gorgeous. Look at his frame. He's so gorgeous oh my goodness I'm literally tearing up typing this he's built so soft he's so round like something that's safe. Something to be and feel safe. My darling is so precious he deserves the whole world just look at him. Can you see that frame and not go precious baby? Doubt it.
– His shoulders and chassis look so cute. I love how soft and smooth they are. I wanna touch them so bad I feel like they're super soft and smooth like I feel like he keeps them smooth on purpose because it brings him joy to see his pretty plating shine. Why else? I love my baby!
– His pedes look like they are two big toebeans. Like oh dear! Oh dear cutie! He's got two cute toe beans! Like they look so silly I love them so much. Like they're wide they look like duck feet. He's my duck my duckling!
– He's so adorable I love how he pretends he doesn't care but he cares a lot it makes him look like he's a cat. He's just so cat coded and so wholesome I wanna give him snoot pats and see if he purrs too I bet he does I'm sure of it!
– Whenever there's a scene or panel that shows him from afar I get butterflies in my stomach he looks so cute in those it makes me think what if I just put my hand through the screen and rolled you on the ground like the cute round cat you are little guy? Oh dear! I wish I could.
– I love his face so much. He's so handsome I'm being serious like he's genuinely truly handsome. I love his chin plating and finials on his helm. I also love to see him smile in panels like whenever there's a panel he's smiling or grinning in I get genuinely happy. He looks so happy when he smiles. My heart!
– I get so braindead when I see him on screen like I love him so much I stop thinking completely and just stare. It's so bad if someone asks what do you like in him I go completely still. Like he's just so majestic I can't find any words to describe him. He's literally glowing wherever he is he outshines others.
– I love that he's a medic. I'm personally a big fan of medics and I find them comforting. Ratchet himself is the helper in the battlefield with all the dangers. Aside from a couple times he barely fights and uses violence. He teaches us that preserving life matters.
– He reminds me it's okay to have hope. He fixes and repairs what war breaks. He teaches me that any wound can be healed. I just wanna cuddle up to his lap and lay there while he pats my head or just holds me. I couldn't believe someone wouldn't feel safe around him.
– We all deserve a Ratchet in our lives. Ratchet is love. Ratchet is life.
Warnings : None just me yapping about my favorite sub group (English isn't my first language)
– If a seeker has a sparkling that isn't fully developed yet and needs protection, whenever there's a danger the parent and the rest of the seekers circle around it to create a protective barrier. In some cases they if the sparkling is too distressed they try to calm it down by releasing soft vibrations.
– Seekers have pretty much bird like or avian behaviors in general. When they are with someone they like, they coo and twirl around them in a circle like birds, making it look like a dance. If the bot isn't a flier they happily take them to the air carrying them like royalty. If they feel playful they might even let go of them only to catch them mid air.
– Seeker airfoils are very sensitive so they only let each other or the people they trust touch them and if anyone else tries to, they get angry. For them it's the equivalent of vulnerability so they don't trust any strangers with it. Especially seekers who have gone through physical abuse like Starscream.
– Something endearing about them and their birdish personalities is that when they get happy their frame tenses up and they let out soft vibrations just like how birds puff up and shiver. A lot of times they close their optics and go into a loaf position, staying like that for at least ten kliks.
– Some seekers like to bring energon crystals or any kind of shiny gifts for each other or their partner just like crows. Their houses are filled with scraps of shiny useless things like a piece of metal or some worthless plastic they found on a primitive planet.
– Whenever a seeker is sad others embrace them in a group hug and create a warm cocoon. Similar to the case with sparklings, here they also buzz and vibrate while embracing them. These vibrations cause a sense of relief and warmth for the sad seeker and it's the equivalent of being hugged by their carrier.
– Seekers stim a lot. More than any other bot groups. Whether it's flapping their airfoils or tapping their pedes, they can't stay in one place for too long. This is actually an evolutionary thing made to keep them safe from danger so they can fly away before the threat gets too near.
– When seekers are angry their energon boils because of their systems heating up and it causes their airfoils to turn a bright color because the metal is thinner there. If they have markings there, those markings shine in whatever color they are. Other bots make fun of this because seekers can never hide their frustration.
– Seekers like to have their berths a couple inches above the floor because in the air is where they feel the safest. They also like swing beds or sleeping like bats sometimes. If they are forced to recharge on solid floor they can hardly fall into stasis if they ever even do.
– Seeker sparklings have sticky servos and pedes in the first stage of their lives and are extremely attached to their parents. They often times stick to their chassis or pedes near their spark chamber where it's the warmest. If someone tries to get them off they screech and click because they can't cry like baby humans.
They're so feral and honestly wake my paternal instincts up.
Tarn :
Appearance : A chubby sparkling with a tank mode that looks like a toy. His purple mask darkens when he's about to throw a tantrum. He always has a tiny non functional fusion cannon toy with himself.
Personality : His gift is the whine. It's a high pitched cry that can make any adult mech drop what they're holding and instinctively apologize. He uses it to get other babies toys. His baby voice echoes. Creepy. His first words weren't sire or carrier but the first word in Megatron's Towards Peace.
Vos :
Appearance : A scrungly face with huge unblinking optics. His alt mode is a small sniper rifle.
Personality : Vos only communicates in a chirping and clicking baby babble. Only Tarn has even an idea of what he's saying. His favorite game is Peek a Boo but he calls it 𓆠𓄿𓅅𓆟𓅆 which translates to the sudden and terrifying revelation of the hunter. When you see his face it's already too late cause he's probably already chewed a corner off your favorite datapad.
Helex :
Appearance : A massively chunky sparkling with a chassis where you can see plastic blocks being smelted. He's the living embodiment of a good eater.
Personality : Helex doesn't just put toys in his chassis. He puts everything. Sippy cups. Data pads. Loose change. He's a mobile oven of destruction. If he likes you he'll hold your servo and it will be uncomfortably dangerously warm. His tantrums involve him sitting down with a thump and opening his chassis and threatening to melt the entire place down unless he gets his energon gummies. His cry sounds like a tea kettle that's been left on too long.
Tesarus :
Appearance : A bulky sparkling whose entire midsection is spinning blades.
Personality : He is obsessed with putting the square block in the square hole. If you give him a triangle block for the square hole he gets frustrated. His giggle sounds like a kitchen blender crushing ice. He loves shredding paper and playing with confetti. He and Helex are a destructive duo. Helex melts things down into cubes and Tesarus then puts the cubes through the correct hole.
Kaon :
Appearance : A thin and pale sparkling who looks like a small sad Victorian child. His alt mode is an electric chair of course but since he's a sparkling it can just send a static shock. His pet is a pull along toy on a string.
Personality : Kaon is unnervingly quiet and still. He just sits staring. If another sparkling is crying he doesn't try to comfort them. He just scoots closer and sends little electricity from his frame in a warning zap. His Turbofox pull toy has been decommissioned and rebuilt so many times it's more repair patches than original material.
Rodimus's biggest trait is his need for an audience. He needs to be perceived as a hero. So his victim's attention matters.
Act now think never :
This is his most dangerous trait. Rodimus wouldn't plot a kidnapping. He'd just do it in a flash and reframe it as a heroic rescue mission. He'd demand reciprocity. He would make them his devout sweetspark unable to love anyone but him even if they try to. He'd have moody episode and snap at them if they get on his nerves too much only to come back crawling to their lap asking for forgiveness. He'd be a mix of confident and unconfident constantly questioning if what he does is right but doesn't stop.
Courtship :
His courtship would be public and therefore impossible to refuse. It'd be a campaign. In order to get the yes he'd give them intense attention and focus. Rodimus who has the attention span of a turbofly suddenly becomes laser focused. He learns their entire record and their secret favorite things and even their childhood. This wouldn't be sweet but invasive and would demonstrate a complete violation of their privacy. His manic energy would be entirely directed at them.
Protection :
The moment they become his sweetspark their freedom would be over. This would be where his role as a Captain becomes the perfect excuse for control. They'd be relieved of any duties that involve risk. Any dangerous mission even slightly? Not anymore. For their safety the door to their room would be locked from the outside because the authorization code can only be trusted to the Captain himself. He wouldn't just physically isolate them. He'd rewire their processor.
Rejection :
The most terrifying part is when his sweetspark tries to escape or rejects his love. This would be an apocalypse for Rodimus and the final confirmation that he is not the hero. If he manages to get them back he wouldn't get quietly angry. He would be violent. One moment he'd be on his knees clinging to their leg like a sparkling and sobbing. Saying he'd be a failure and nothing without them. The next he'd be standing rigid and yelling at them saying how dare they spit on their precious role. If they cry he'd just coo at them and say that he's gonna fix them because that's a hero's job.
"Why are you doing this to us? I'm the hero. I'm the one who saves you. Just let me save you."
Warnings : Emotional pain and near death experience.
The Lost Light being silent is rare. Most find it unnerving. A void where the usual chatter of crewmates should be. For Ratchet it's a blessing. A chance for his audials to stop ringing and for his processor to stop racing through triage protocols and inventory lists. He's taken a liking to wandering the corridors during these late cycles. One of these always ends at the same place. Drift's quarters.
Ratchet tells himself it's just to check on him. The former Decepticon turned Autobot has been quieter than usual lately. Quieter than his already reserved nature. The jokes with Rodimus has stopped and his appearance has become fleeting. Even the light in his optics the one that has flickered with hope since he's found a place on this ship seems to be dimming.
Ratchet pauses outside Drift's door. He presses the comm. No answer. He tries again. Nothing. Raw panic takes place in his spark.
"Drift?" He calls out. His voice is low and raspy. He overrides the lock with his personal code. It's a privilege he abuses only for the mech he loves.
The room is empty. The berth is made with precision and everything else is undisturbed. But there is a wrongness to it. It's too quiet and feels more like an ending than a pause.
Ratchet's spark clenches. He runs out of the room. His EM field flares out as he runs and his pedes clang against the metal floors. The sound is so loud it's a contrast to the heavy silence. He checks the training rooms and the medbay and everywhere he can. All are empty. The panic is a living thing now and it tugs at his poor spark.
Then a ring from his comm. It's from a tracker he's set on Drift's frame without him knowing about it. It's pinging from the observation deck. The one with the massive viewport. The one that leads to the endless void of space.
Ratchet runs faster than he has in vorns. His old joints scream in pain but he doesn't stop. He bursts through the doors to the observation deck and his spark stops in his chassis at the view.
There stands Drift. He's on the wide ledge of the viewport with little to no safety behind him. The only thing between him and oblivion is a single backwards step. His frame is slack and his helm is tilted.
"Drift!" Ratchet's scream is torn from his very core. He's terrified.
Drift doesn't turn. He just leans back.
Time fractures. Ratchet's world narrows to a single point. The space between him and the mech on the ledge. He lunges and his servos outstretch. His digits close around Drift's servo and his back strut. Ratchet doesn't even know what he's doing. He just holds on. He yanks with all his strength and pulls the lighter mech back from stumbling backward and crashing to the space.
For a long moment there is only the sound of Ratchet's ragged vents. Drift is limp in his grasp and his frame is cold. His optics look back but staring at nothing. He hasn't struggled. He hasn't fought the rescue. He has simply let it happen.
Ratchet holds him wrapped gently around his servos. He's afraid he might crack his armor. He buries his face plate in the crook of Drift's neck.
"Why?" Ratchet finally chokes out whispering against Drift's neck. "Why Drift?"
There's absolute silence for a bit. Then Drift's voice comes so soft and distant it's barely a vibration. "I heard… if you jump out here… you go to a nice place."
Ratchet pulls back and his optics wide with horror and confusion. He stares at Drift's face. At the blank peaceful expression that's a thousand times more terrifying than any scream of despair. "What? What are you talking about?"
"The others." Drift continues while looking at the stars. "They said… when a mech goes out the airlock their spark drifts in space for a while… and then it finds a new home. A nice place. With a nice house to live in. No fighting. No past. Just… peace."
The words are like shards of glass in Ratchet's spark. It's a bar story. A myth. A comforting lie told to soften the reality of a grim death. And Drift in his misery has latched onto it as the truth. He isn't trying to escape pain. He's trying to go home.
A sob comes out of Ratchet's intake. A broken sound he didn't even know he's capable of making. He pulls Drift back into his servos and cradles him like he's the most precious thing in the universe and rocks him gently. The coolant tears he's held back for so long for all the horrors he's seen for all the patients he's lost and for the constant fear for this one mech finally spills over streaking down his face plate.
"No." Ratchet weeps. "No baby no. That's not… that's just a story. A stupid story."
He feels a tremor run through Drift's frame. A single tear slips from the corner of Drift's optic down his face plate before disappearing into the seam of his jaw plate. He doesn't even make a sound. He just cries silently as he always does. His pain is always a private internal thing. He never knows how to share.
The sight of that silent tear breaks Ratchet completely.
"You’re my baby!" Ratchet chokes out. "My stupid brave and beautiful idiot. I can't lose you. I can't!" He presses multiple kisses on Drift's helm. Anywhere he can reach. "Do you hear me? I have held so many mechs as they sparked out. I have lost so many but I can't lose you. You're my everything."
Ratchet holds Drift tighter. "That nice place… that peace you're looking for? It's not out there in the cold. It's here. It's with me. We'll find it together. I promise you we will. But you have to stay. You have to stay with me."
Drift remains silent but his frame begins to shake and the silent tears turn more violent. He doesn't even have the energy to speak or to explain the crushing weight of millennia of guilt and of all the sparks he's extinguished as Deadlock and of the feeling that he's a monster wearing a pretender's peaceful facade. He just lets himself be held.
Ratchet doesn't let go. He sits there on the cold floor of the observation deck holding his broken love and whispers promises into his audio receptors. He talks about the future and about the silly little hab suite they could decorate. He talks about teaching him medicine and about just sitting in silence and watching a nebula pass by.
After a long time Drift's trembling stops. His optics finally focuse and look up into Ratchet's tear streaked face. His voice is broken. "I'm sorry."
"Don't." Ratchet says firmly and cups Drift's face in his shaking servos. "Don't you dare apologize for hurting. Just… promise me. Promise me you'll come to me when it gets dark. When the guilt is too much. Come to me. Always. Let me help."
Drift looks at him and for the first time in vrons the weight on his spark seems to lessen although just a fraction. He gives a tiny nod.
Ratchet pulls him close once more and presses his forehelm to Drift's. They stay like that. Two sparks beating despite the cold vast silence of space and cling to each other as the only warm things in the universe. The nice place isn't a myth. It's right here in the arms of this grumpy old medic who loves him and would spend the rest of his life making sure Drift is always going to be okay.
Warnings : Mild gore, sparkbonding and obsessive behavior.
The ship was silent. You stood at your post looking at the starry void but your awareness was entirely focused on the presence beside you. Overlord.
He didn't look at you yet you felt his attention. It made your systems hum with a nervous energy. The space he occupied seemed to bend around him. You could feel the heat radiating from his massive frame making the very air crackle. Without warning a heavy servo came to rest on your back. The touch was light at first but the threat of violence was coiled in every digit. You froze and your cooling fans kicked on with a faint whirr you hoped he can't hear over the ship's noise. His digit began a slow circle against your spinal strut like a gesture of casual intimacy that sent a jolt of conflicting signals straight to your processor.
There was no gentleness in it but only a reminder that he can touch you and that you are an object in his vast bloody universe. Your field of vision narrowed and the starry space blurred into streaks of light as your internal systems struggled to categorize the sensation. Was it a threat? A prelude to a lesson in pain? Something else entirely?
You heard a chuckle. His other servo came up to grip your helm forcing you to turn your head and meet his gaze. He leaned down and got his face close to yours. "Look at you." He murmured next to your audio sensors. "So dutiful. So… predictable." His grip tightened.
The pressure against your helm vanished but only for a nanosecond. His servo moved to wrap around your neck. The sharp points of his digits didn't break the armor at least not yet but they indented the metal with a promise of what's to come. He didn't immediately squeeze but just held you there. The sheer size of his servo dwarfed your neck and lower jaw and forced you to arch back slightly to accommodate him. Everything dissolved into a low static in your audials. The only thing that was real was the suffocating presence of him and the way your own systems were beginning to short circuit from terror and something else.
Then he began to squeeze. A low stressed groan echoed through the silence and the world blurred a bit. Your ventilations hitched and your logic centers glitched. Your servo remained limp at your sides and an arch of your back pressed your neck more firmly against his servo. Your optics which should've been wide with panic only dimmed to low hazy purples. A surprised rumble vibrated from Overlord's chest. His optics narrowed looking at every twitch and shudder of your frame. He saw it. He saw the lack of struggle and the way your frame leaned into him rather than away. "Oh." He purred and loosened his grip just enough for a trickle of air to return. A cruel tease. The sudden rush of air made the heady sensation increase and a soft choked whimper escaped your vocalizer. Overlord's grin was wide. He knew you were special. He just didn't realize how special.
Just as your systems began to falter Overlord's face came closer again. The world came rushing back into focus as his dermas crashed against yours. His dermas were hard against yours and before you could process the sensation his glossa slid into your intake. It tasted of high grade energon. The sensations were overwhelming and the pressure cut off your airflow. A loop of pleasure and panic flooded your circuits and a moan muffled by his dermas vibrated in your intake. Your servos finally moved but they didn't push him away. One gripped his own and your fingers hold onto it. The other slid up his chestplate until you reached the cables at his neck. He reacted with a sharp intake of vent and an actual flicker of surprise. He tightened his grip on your neck in response and it caused a wave of dizziness in your processor that made your optics roll back in your helm.
Finally with a sharp vent Overlord broke the kiss. He eased the pressure on your neck to allow a cycle of ventilation. For a moment you saw your own reflection in his red optics. Your neck was dented and your faceplate scuffed. Your expression was that of a dazed ecstasy. Then he lowered his helm not for your dermas but to the angle of your jaw. His sharp dentas slid along your jawline before biting down. The pressure sent a wave of pure sensation through your frame. Your strangled cry was one of pleasure. Your back arched and made the sensitive cables of your neck and jaw press more firmly against his grip. He released you only to bite again a little lower and then again leaving a trail of aching pressure points on your frame. Your cooling fans kicked to keep your systems from melting down.
He moved lower to your shoulder plating where it met your neck. His denta sank in with a sickening screech and broke the surface. A sharp pain waved through you and made your vision white out. A trickle of your own energon poured out and you felt the heat of it as he licked it with his glossa.
The last bite on your shoulder was deeper than the others and then he pulled back to look at you before releasing your neck. The sudden rush of air was dizzying but you had no time to recover. His other servo moved to the your chassis and before you could even process anything he wrenched your chassis armor open. The cool air of the bridge hit your exposed inner workings and showcasing the light of your own spark pulsing in its casing. Overlord opened his own spark chamber. His was a mix of red and purple and a tad bigger than yours.
He lowered himself over you and brought the two pulsing orbs of light together. So many sensations flooded your processor and your thoughts were ripped from you and the world blurred out.
When you came to you were on the deck and your frame trembled with the aftershocks of the bond. Your chassis plates were still open and your spark was now beating softer. A shadow fell over you and you forced your optics to focus. Overlord was kneeling above you. His own chassis plates were sealed once more but the memory of that beautiful light was seared into your processor. He looked down at you and for the first time his optics softened. He reached down and traced the deep bite mark on your shoulder with his digit where the wound was still tingling with the phantom sensation of his glossa. "Look at you." He smiled. The words were no longer mocking. "After all that… not a single complaint. Not a single plea for mercy." His digit moved from the bite mark to gently tap your chassis which was now sealed. "Such a good bot." The praise was intoxicating and washed over you. Your processor couldn't help but agree. You were made for this. To be broken by him. To be claimed by him and to be held in his servos and feel… good.
You remained on the deck too weak to move with your optics fixed on him. Overlord watched you for another long moment and then extended a servo down to you. You place your own servo in his and he pulled you to your pedes. Your pedes felt unsteady so he didn't release your servo. Instead he tug you along him and walked past the station to the door to his private room. It hissed open revealing a massive recharge bed. He pulled you inside and the door was shut behind you with a loud clang. He finally released your servo only to cup your face. "That was merely the introduction." He grinned. "Now… we're going to have so much more fun." Inside there nothing mattered but you and him enjoying each other's company.
Warnings : Psychological manipulation and obsessive behavior.
The first thing you noticed about Rung's office was the quiet. It wasn't just an absence of sound but a velvety silence that seemed to absorb the echoing chaos of the outside. Here it was hushed. Safe. The only sounds were the rhythmic ticking of a chronometer on his desk and the gentle scratch of his stylus on a datapad.
"And how did that make you feel?" he asked with a soft and warm voice. He didn't look up from his notes immediately. You sat across from him. Your plating was still subtly vibrating from a recent nightmare. Visions of rust and of screaming metal. Of an emptiness where your spark pulse should have been. The war had left its scars on everyone but yours felt less like badges of honor and more like shame that threatened to split you apart. The concern in everyone else's optics had been tinged with wariness. You were a liability. But not to Rung. To Rung you were a fascinating intricate puzzle. "I felt… exposed." You murmured. "Malfunctioning."
"Ah!" He said and finally set the stylus down and folded his servos. His blue optics hidden by his goggles held you with a focus so intense it almost felt like he was looking through you. "Not malfunctioning. Adapting. Your systems are responding to perceived threats based on deeply ingrained survival protocols. The goal isn't to erase them. It's to understand their wiring and carefully reroute it."
That was his refrain. Rerouting. Rewiring. Neuroplasticity. He spoke of your trauma not as a weakness but as a complex beautiful network of scars that he alone could fix. Session by session he drew you out. He remembered every detail. Your favorite grade of polish or the exact frequency of your idle engine hum or even the way your door wings would tense a certain micron before you dissociated. His attention was a balm. No one else listened like this. No one else saw you.
The manipulation began subtly hidden behind his care.
"Your friends... they mean well." Rung said one session after you recounted a frustrating attempt to socialize. "But their methods are… blunt. For a processor as sensitive and hurt as you such blunt force can feel like an assault. It's no wonder you retreat." He sighed sympathetically. "It's a pity others don't possess the patience to handle fragile things properly."
Fragile. The word stung but from his lips it sounded like a precious condition. He was the only one who knew how to hold something fragile without breaking it.
He began to prescribe routines. Specific quiet activities for your off shifts. Or calming music tracks only he provided. He encouraged you to comm him if the anxieties grew too loud no matter the cycle. "My door is always open for you." he'd say and you believed him. You started to measure your stability by his responses without even realizing it. A ping back from him with a simple "I'm here. Breathe." could calm a rising panic attack faster than any reset.
The isolation was a thing. Your attempts to reintegrate always seemed to backfire just as he'd gently predicted they might. Outings left you overstimulated and shaking. Conversations felt like minefields. You'd return to him ashamed and he would welcome you without judgment. His office was a paradise compared to a world that was too loud and too bright or too harsh. The world as he implied was the problem. Not you. And only he understood that.
"They rely on you for functionality." He murmured once. His digit traced a line on your mental health chart. A chart only he saw. "But do they appreciate the cost to you? The constant drain? Here you don't have to perform. You can simply… be. With me."
The dependency became total. Your world shrank to the four walls of his office and the sound of his voice. The approving nod when you recounted following his advice. The thought of a session ending filled you with a dread colder than the vacuum of space. He was the anchor for you. The only source of light.
The final step began with a therapeutic exercise.
"I want you to try something." He said his voice hushed with excitement. "A deep meditation. To help you feel truly secure." He produced a set of sensory dampeners."These will help block out the external chaos. Just for a little while. Just here with me."
Trusting him completely you allowed him to fit them. The world vanished. The hum of the ship and the glow of the lights were all gone. Your processor went in a silent dark void. An immediate and raw panic lanced through you.
And then his voice. Not through your audials but via a private comm line filled your processor. "I'm here. You're not alone. You're safe. Follow my voice."
For cycles the exercise repeated. The outside world became synonymous with overwhelming painful static. His voice and his presence became the only signal you could clearly receive and the only thing that could guide you back from the edge. You were being systematically unplugged from everything but him.
It came on a day like any other. You sat in your usual chair but a strange fear had been growing in your spark. A part of you knew that you hadn't seen another mech besides Rung in… you couldn't remember.
"Rung." You said while your voice trembled. "I… I think I'd like to try going to Swerve's tonight. With you. Maybe just for a short time."
The serene smile on his faceplate didn't waver but the light in his optics shifted. The warm blue seemed to harden like coolant freezing over. The gentle scratch of his stylus ceased. The silence in the room was no longer velvety. It was dense and suffocating.
"Oh my dear." He said with a soft tone but now it carried an undercurrent of something undeniable and absolute. "Why would you ever want to go out there?"
He stood circling the desk with a precise grace. He seemed taller somehow.
"Out there..." He continued before stopping in front of you. "They see a broken thing. A burden. They would use you up until your seams burst and then cast you aside. They don't see the fragile being I see. They don't know how to cherish your cracks or to make them part of a beautiful whole."
He knelt bringing himself to your eye level. His hand reached out and his gentle digits brushed the side of your face plate. The touch was possessive. Final.
"You once said you felt exposed with everyone else." He whispered. "But you've never been exposed with me have you? I have seen every fractured part of you. And I have never not for a moment, wanted anything less than all of it. You don't need that world. It hurts you. It breaks you. All you need… is me."
The truth crashed over you not as a shock but as a terrible awakening. The routines and the isolation or the dampeners and the constant reshaping of your reality it had all led here. This wasn't therapy. This was capture.
"You… you made me need you." You vented as horror drew.
"I saved you." He corrected stroking your cheek plate. "I saw a spark of unique vulnerable beauty drowning in a universe of noise and violence and I built a sanctuary for it. A sanctuary where I could protect it. Forever."
He leaned closer. The scent of his polish once so comforting, now seemed cloying and invasive.
"The Lost Light is no place for you. But I have a new place for us. Quiet. Private. Where nothing will ever scare you again. Where I can continue your treatment… uninterrupted."
Panic erupted within you. You tried to stand and to pull back but your systems were unresponsive. Had he… had he done something? A subroutine in the data tracks? A virus in the dampeners?
"Shhh~" He soothed and his other hand coming up to cradle the other side of your face plate. "Don't fight it. This is the culmination of all our work. This is the final permanent peace I promised you."
His face was inches from yours. The clinical kind facade had melted away and revealed the obsession that had always burned him. An obsession with your pain and your dependence. Your utter and complete belonging to him.
"You are my most precious patient. My greatest success. My everything." He murmured. He voice trembled with a fervor that was entirely unprofessional. "And now we begin our true journey together."
He closed the gap.
His dermas met yours in a kiss that was chillingly gentle yet absolute in its claim. A silent seal on a contract he had written and you had unknowingly signed. It was the final terrible rerouting of your destiny.
When he pulled away his optics were dark with devotion. In one smooth motion he lifted you. Your poor systems were too compromised to resist. He carried you not toward the door but toward a rear wall of his office which slid open to reveal a small personal shuttle dock.
The last thing you saw was the warm familiar clutter of his office. The tidy desk and the comfortable chairs with the chronometer still ticking away the seconds of your old life.
Then he stepped across the threshold cradling you against his chest.
"Don't look back." He whispered into your audial. "There's nothing for you there anymore. I am your light now. And your darkness."
He carried you into the waiting shuttle and the hatch sealed behind you with a soft click. The office light which was the last point of reference in a universe he had deliberately blurred vanished. You were left with nothing but the sound of his sparkbeat against your plating. The ghost of his kiss on your dermas and the loving darkness he had chosen for you.
Warnings : Dark themes with light violence and psychological manipulation.
For the last three weeks a sweet vibrant melody had intertwined with your life. A melody of smooth and brassy saxophone notes and a voice like warm honey. It was the sound of Jazz.
You'd seen him first by the riverfront with a paint job dazzling under the neon lights and an easy open demeanour. He'd transformed right there in the open from a sleek silver Porsche into his true self to help a human with a stalled car. His blue visor had glinted with a quick smile. And something in your soul a possessive thing you'd kept locked away had snapped its chain.
Obsession was too weak a word. It was a devotional. A craving. You learned his patrol routes and his favorite spots to watch the sunset over the city. You listened hidden as he chatted with his Autobot friends over comms you'd learned to partially intercept with scavenged Cybertronian tech. You heard his laughter and his concern for his human allies and his strategic mind and his loneliness for a home he could never return to. You absorbed him. He became your sun.
And you decided he would be yours.
The plan was clinical in its execution. You knew he sometimes took a quieter route through the industrial district on Thursday nights. You used a scrambled panicked distress signal mimicking an Autobot signature. You'd spent months ever since that first sighting preparing your garage. Reinforcing the ceiling and installing heavy duty hydraulic clamps and most importantly acquiring a set of Cybertronian stasis cuffs.
The night was perfect. Fog clung to the ground. You stood by a fabricated energon leak near the the blue liquid pooling. His headlights cut through the mist and his engines let out a purr of concern. He transformed before he'd even fully stopped.
"Whoa there little buddy!" his voice was laced with worry. "Ya catch a rough hit? Let's getcha patched..." His words cut off as his pede landed squarely on the pressure sensitive plate you'd buried. The hydraulic clamps hidden under false asphalt shot up with a clang sound and locked around his ankles with immovable force.
"What in the?!" He roared struggling and his powerful servos twitched. But you were already moving. You darted forward. You a small insignificant human with a device that looked like a toy in your hands. You pressed it against the seam of his lower leg armor.
"Sorry Jazz." you whispered. "Just a little pinch."
A calibrated high voltage surge specifically designed to overload a transformation cog's local circuit and shot into his system. He screamed which was a sound of pure agony and shock as his entire frame seized. With a groan of protesting metal his body collapsed and his consciousness flew the sudden system shock. The clamps held him kneeling bowed forward.
The work was brutal. You used a heavy duty industrial winch to drag his massive inert form into your garage. You sealed the reinforced doors. And then you began the final plan. Acts of ownership.
The cold stasis cuffs locked around his wrists with a hiss. Their soft blue glow pulsed and leached any strength from his servos and kept him in a state of permanent and drowsy weakness. Then you took the drill.
The sound was horrific. A high pitched grinding squeal as you carefully punctured each of his tires. Enough to cause a full flat. To cause a leak in each. The air hissed out of them slowly. He would never roll. He could never drive away. He was grounded. He was yours.
When he finally onlined his optics it was to the sterile white light of your garage. He jerked in a way that was instantly hampered by the deep systemic throb of the stasis cuffs.
"Wha… where?" His voice was slurred. It was heavy with static.
"You're home Jazz." your voice called out sweet. You were perched on a high gantry you'd built level with his face.
His blue visor brightened focusing on you. Confusion. Then dawning horrific comprehension. "Ya… the human with the distress signal. Why? Lemme go. This ain't no joke kid."
"It's not a joke." you agreed and climbed down a ladder to walk towards him. You placed a reverent hand on his punctured tire feeling the slight give of the deflated rubber. He flinched as if it burned. "I fixed you. I saved you from all that fighting and all that danger. From Ratchet's impersonal repairs and Optimus Prime's burdensome commands. You don't have to be their tool anymore."
"I'm an Autobot!" he snarled and started straining against the cuffs. The blue glow intensified and he gasped and his systems straining. "I ain't nobody's tool and I sure as hell ain't yours! My team will be lookin' for me!"
"They're looking for a warrior on a mission." you said calmly walking over to a control panel. "They won't find you here. I've got signal dampeners. All they'll find is static." You pressed a button. A gentle jazz music piece began to play through speakers. "See? It's peaceful here. You can finally relax."
The days blurred into a routine of madness. You'd talk to him for hours telling him about your day and your thoughts and your deep all consuming love for him. You'd bring him small offerings like the highest quality motor oil with energon crystals polished until they shone like a mirror or rare earth metals you'd spent fortunes on and arranged.
At first he was all fire and defiance. He'd yell and plead or try to reason. "This ain't love it's a cage!" he'd shout while his voice echoed in the sealed space.
"Every home has walls Jazz." you'd reply while polishing a smudge from his fender.
You began maintaining him. It started with washing away the grime of his kidnapping. You'd use soft cloths and delicate solvents and touching every contour of his plating. He'd remain rigid and silent with a dim visor filled with shame and fury. You'd hum as you worked detailing the seams of his armor and cleaning his glass.
"Don't touch me." he'd growl.
"But you're dirty." you'd chide softly. "I have to keep you perfect. My perfect beautiful Jazz."
The physical violation was one thing. The psychological erosion was another. You played his own comm logs sometimes the ones where his team's searches grew less frequent and more hopeless. You saw the moment his defiance began to crack replaced by despair.
One night after a week you found him silent with his head bowed. The usual fight was gone.
"Jazz?" you asked before climbing the gantry to face him.
"Why the tires?" he asked with a broken voice. It wasn't a roar anymore. It was the sound of a spark being mentally dismantled. "Why… make it so I can't even… feel the road?"
You smiled. "Because if you could transform, you'd leave me. And I can't have that. This way you're always here. You're always with me. You don't need to be anything but mine."
You reached out and stroked the side of his door wing. He didn't flinch. He just… accepted it. A shuddering vent of air escaped him fogging your reflection in his visor.
The defiance turned to quiet bargaining then to a numb soul deadened acceptance. You started to call him pet names. My star. My treasure. My silent song. He stopped correcting you.
You began to sleep on a cot beside him lulled by the slow hum of his engines. A reminder that he was going nowhere.
One evening you were curled with a book in your chair and the jazz music playing was playing. You looked up at him. His visor was trained on the far wall seeing nothing.
"Jazz?" you said.
A long pause. "…Yes?"
Not what do you want. Not leave me alone. Just yes. An acknowledgment of your existence and of your ownership.
Joy... pure joy flooded your veins. You walked over and pressed your entire body against his cold metallic plating and wrapped your arms around as much as you could.
"I love you." you murmured into his metallic plating. Another pause. Then the softest most defeated sound. A single word empty of all its former vibrancy now just a hollow shell of compliance. A sigh.
"I know."
It wasn't surrender. Not truly. It was the silence of a deep, internal shutdown. But to you it was everything. It was a promise. He was your beautiful broken mech. He would never play his saxophone again but that was fine. You had his silence all for yourself. And in your quiet garage with the rumble of his engine as your music you finally had the perfect permanent love you'd always dreamed of.
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