#gn human reader

[tripleglitchwriting]

Kinesthesis (Part 2)

Jazz/Prowl/HumanReader first contact AU

Part 1

Part 3

Warnings: Kind of robogore

An idiot would go toward the burning pieces of metal that just fell out of the sky. Of course, you were already halfway there, being the most outstanding idiot ever born. Curse the empathy that boiled in your heart for the people trapped in an imaginary crashed plane. You hoped it was imaginary at least. Really you just hoped this was all some very realistic nightmare.

As you got closer, the smoke in the sky died down. Whatever was up there had probably crashed somewhere else by now. Probably somewhere halfway around the globe if you had to guess.

It was both strange and reliving to see there was no fire burning around the crash site. Though, it was hard to tell what crashed even without a blazing inferno blocking your view. Whatever it was it was metal, white, and… leaking something? It was a strange bright blue liquid, like radioactive cool-aid or something. Oh god, was this thing radioactive?

Well, if it was you were screwed anyway. Might as well figure out what happened before you had heart palpitations or whatever radiation poisoning does to the human body. However, as you got closer, three things became evident.

1. It was definitely not a plane crash.

2. There were actually two giant metal things, not one.

3. Holy shit that’s a giant hand.

It would’ve been smart to run then. You didn’t. The whole ‘most outstanding idiot ever born’ thing became apparent when it finally clicked that the giant metal hand was attached to a giant metal body. Two giant metal bodies. They were pretty far apart, and as a result that blue liquid pooled somewhere in the middle of them.

It was almost hypnotizing how bright it was. You almost forgot how terrified you were. It was so enrapturing you nearly jumped out of your skin when one of the robots (?) made a sputtering noise. It seemed to just be some kind of mechanism that failed in one of them, since more liquid came spraying out. They were both “bleeding” pretty bad, actually. They weren’t alive though. Right? You didn’t see how they could be.

Still, if it wasn’t a plane crash, where the hell did these things come from anyway? Other than the sky.

Hah. Giant robots from the sky. Definitely more entertaining than camping. They didn’t pose any immediate danger, you supposed, maybe if you fixed them up you could prove once and for all your skill in mechanics was all you need. Technically you were sent out here to build something with little resources, why not take advantage of this unexpected opportunity? Your mother would have her mind blown when she saw what you’d done.

On the exhausting jog back to the campsite in order to get your tools, the events you witnessed kept playing back in your mind. Things appearing out of nowhere, black smoke covering the sky, random explosions happening. You were probably in shock, all things considered. There had to be some long lasting mental impacts of all that. But as you arrived at your destination and grabbed everything you could carry, it looked like you’d just have to have trauma and fix up the sky robots.

—————————

The world skidded to a halt. Darkness draped over Prowl like a veil over a mourning widow. Though he wasn’t exactly conscious, so the concept of darkness was lost on him. When the bot was fading out, he didn’t expect to wake up again. Which is why he was so surprised when he did.

Prowl’s energon levels were still incredibly low. Most of his senses were offline. But, despite being close to death, his condition wasn’t getting worse. Had the rest of the Autobots found him? Had the Deceptions found him?

Luckily, it wasn’t long before his optics came back online. His vision was considerably worse than before, with him only being able to make out blurry shapes, light, and colors, but it was better than the black abyss. The ringing in his audials was replaced with a sharp high pitched screaming sound followed by silence. Silence was nice. He liked silence. Why did he feel like it shouldn’t be silent?

Trying his best to run back through his memory to deduce what had happened, Prowl quickly came to the realization he had no idea where Jazz was. Usually he’d be thrilled that Jazz had finally shut his mouth for a bit, but in this situation it only made his spark sink.

He tried to turn his helm to look to the side. After an agonizing second, he succeeded! He couldn’t make out much of anything, but at least he could accomplish slight movement. Though, when he did finally process the blur of shapes ahead of him, he couldn’t quite tell if the moving figure he saw was real or not.

Either way it looked like they were still in the same place they crashed on, so being found by a fellow cybertronian was most likely out of the question.

Any sensors he had to detect foreign creatures were completely offline, so he just had to hope hallucinations were normal when faced with life threatening injuries. He did find the weird warbling noise it made concerning though. Did hallucinations make noise?

Apparently now was not the time to find out, because another definitely not hallucinated noise reached him. The creaking of metal, the groaning of someone in pain, the voice of a friend. Jazz.

“P- p- pr- — -at hap—ned? St- — -sis en—ed e- ea—-ly. E- e- ner- g—n sta— b— le.” Prowl tried to respond, but whatever came out didn’t even begin to resemble a voice. Another high pitched screech assaulted his sensors. A glitch probably. Hopefully.

However, if he did understand what Jazz was saying, they were both experiencing the same thing. They were alive and not leaking energon anymore. There were no mechanical life signs on this planet when they first reached it before the battle, maybe the Arc had faulty scanners…? How could they be even slightly repaired while on a planet with no sentient life?

…unless?

———

Prowl always overthought things. That’s was Jazz made fun of him for anyway. The guy had backup plans for his backup plans, complete with an additional plan C, D, and E just for good measure. But now, missing an arm, most of his energon, and any sort of communication with the outside world, he wished he had those plans.

When Jazz came back online he immediately mustered up the strength to try and contact Prowl, but all he got was a garbled choking sound in response. Strange they were both awake in the first place, Jazz thought, why exit stasis in a state like this? He wasn’t losing anymore energon, had somebody patched him up?

Even with his newfound conciseness, his optics were still out of order. And he was pretty much immobile. Oh, but look, his pain receptors were coming back online. Very helpful. Luckily it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. Usually getting a limb removed would hurt a lot more. He would know, this isn’t even the third time he’s lost that arm!

Even with his prior experience with pain and such, he’d be the first to admit the next thing he felt was strange. There was a small but warm touch on his still-attached arm. From what he had no idea, but at least it didn’t feel threatening. It was soft. Probably because they were on an organic planet. That would mean whatever was touching him had to be alive. And it was making noise! Really it was unlike anything he’d ever heard. It was smooth and rounded, no bite to it at all. He wished Prowl would talk like that once and awhile.

Scrap, Prowl. He never actually responded.

“D- do y- — -u rea- m- -e? G- gi— me a s- s- s- ign ‘ere P- r- — -ler!”

“S— -ill f- f- unc— ti- ning.” Jazz instinctually tried to ex-vent in relief, but it mostly came out as hacking coughs.

“H-haha! B- b- arl—y.”

“Y- ‘re o- ne to -alk.” During their brief ‘conversation’, both bots heard something strange from somewhere around them. It was a mix of the screeching Prowl heard and the soft noise Jazz heard. Now it was clear enough for both of them to hear. Actually, it was even clearer to Jazz. Almost like… a language.

“D- do y—u h- — -ar t- th- -t?”

“T- h’s is n- n- n- no ti- m -e to wo- -r- y a- bou- c- cre- t- ure c- ca- — -ls.”

“I- it’s m- mo’e t- th- han a c- ca- — -l. It… I- I t- thi- nk it’s t- tal—in’.”

“I- Imposs- ible.”

“Hello? Is ————— there? Anyone there at all? Please, there’s s————g wrong here, these- these ——t metal robots appeared out of the sky and, and I know it s—-nds crazy, I —ow, but if you c— hear me, please get he— — fast as you can. Please.” Jazz definitely heard a voice from those distant noises.

“I- it IS a l—angu—ge!”

“W- wh — t in t- he P- Pi - t are y- yo - u t—king ab- — -t?”

“Wait, who said that? Who’s there?”

“D- do—‘t y- yo-u h- h- ear i- it P- Pro- — -ler?!” Despite his damaged systems, something managed to come through unscathed. Something Prowl never bothered to implement.

“I- it- ‘s a- an a- ani- mal, Ja- — -z. Y- you- r p- pro- ces- sor…. dam- m- m- aged.”

“It can’t be… you? You, are you talking?” The voice asked.

“My p—cess—or -s f- in- e.” He said to Prowl, quickly turning his attention to this strange new person. “D- di- — -ou s- sav- -us, l- lit- le g- guy?”

“It is you… a- are you talking to me?”

“I- ‘s ‘ere an- n- yon- -e el- -s- -e a- a roun- d?”

“W- wh- o a- re y- yo u tal-“

“It’s just me… and the other robot.” The voice paused. “I can’t do this. I- I’ve gotten in over my head. This is insane! This is insane. I need to go.”

“W- — -ait!” Jazz shouted louder than he thought he could. “W- we n- n- ne — d h- hel —p. Y- yo- u stop- pe — th- the e’erg- gon, r- rig- ht?”

“J- Jaz-z, you’ —e hu- rt. P- pl- eas-“ Prowl attempted to cut in.

“Well, I did try and patch up the holes, I got the liquid to stop, but you- you’re alive, and- and talking to me! Mostly.”

“T- th- at’s w- wh- y we n- nee- d h- he — p. Ple- — -se h- he-lp u- us.”

“I can see that you’re hurt, but I don’t even know what you are, even if I tried I don’t know if I could… fix anything.” Again, the voice contemplated. “But I can make an attempt… if it means saving lives.”

“T- th- ank y- you.” After Jazz stopped talking and the noises Prowl heard subsided, his mind was left spinning after what he’d just witnessed. Well, ‘witness’ was a bit of an overstatement considering he could hardly see, but that didn’t staunch his flow of worry for Jazz. Talking to himself- or that noise- there had to be something wrong with his head. He couldn’t lose Jazz now. Not like this.

Not too long after it had gone silent, he felt a strange sensation on his torso. It was soft and warm, two things he disliked, but this touch was different. It was small and tender, almost afraid.

“I’m going to start with you, okay?”

More of those noises.

“T- th- at’s P- Pro - l. P- P- ro- — -l. Pro- wl.”

“Prowl?”

“Y- ye- s.”

“Alright then Prowl, you’re first.” He didn’t have the energy to keep asking Jazz who he was talking to. They both needed to conserve energy. For Prowl that was getting harder with the pitter patter he was feeling. “So… can you talk, Prowl?”

“H- he -an… jus’ w- wo-‘t.”

“W- wh- t? Y- ou- ta — lkin- g a- bo- ut me?”

“—ou r- re- eall- y c- ca- — -t un- d- der—and t- th-em?”

“A- are you talking to, um, him? I- you know I’ll stop… um, interrupting.”

“Y- yo- ‘re da- da- dama - g- ed!” While Jazz fully believed he was completely fine mentally, it was weird Prowl couldn’t hear what the little voice was saying. It could be something with languages, even if they didn’t detect any sentient life on the planet doesn’t mean there was none, so maybe- wait. Wait… oh. Oh Prowl, that stubborn idiot.

“D- d- id y- yo- u t- tak- e Jack- ie’s u- uni- v- — -sal t- tran-ator t- hing— y?”

“W- wh- at? N- no. N- not i- if h- e m- mad- e i-it. Ja—z yo-u n- nee- t-o r-res… t.” Of course Prowl didn’t take it. Even Ratchet took it! But that stubborn ass didn’t.

“I- d- id. I- it a- acti- va- ted o- on i- it’s o- own. I- I c- can un- erstan- d t- the c- calls. Y- yo- u c- can’t.”

“T- th- at isn’t-“

“C- ca- n i- it, t- t- tin c- an. Li- list—n. The- y s- sai-d they— hel- lp u- us. L- let t- the- m.”

“I’m… going to get to work.” Prowl, in fatigued frustration, didn’t reply. He was mostly focused on the small weight on his chassis. It was crawling up to his helm.

He was unable to move- to stop it, scrap, he could be killed right here and now and-

It stopped. Right in front of a terrible gash just near his neck cabling. Whatever was on him slowly put its weight down, slowly getting closer. His already overworked spark began to beat faster.

And yet, he could feel the wound being… sealed. It had been kind of sealed prior, but this time it was being properly healed, not haphazardly patched. If this kept up, he might even get full use of his voice box back sooner rather than later. While Prowl’s trust was thin, and he would prefer if no strange creatures jumped on his body, he didn’t have any other choice.

Hopefully Jazz knew what he was talking about. This was Prowl’s rock bottom… and he could hardly see the way up.

[elithilanor]

Imagine your elven partner watching amusedly and trying not to laugh as you attempt to peel boiled eggs while high.

Thranduil and Haldir would definitely watch mildly condescendingly with the thought of how adorable you are: as a human.

[tripleglitchwriting]

Kinesthesis (Part 1)

Set in the same universe as Ignition and Combustion!

Part 2

I am working if requests I promise I just wanted to write something else along with them.

Synopsis: As the Arc crashes down to Earth, Jazz and Prowl are left without escape pods. Stranded on an unknown planet and gravely injured, the two seem lost… if it weren’t for a curious mechanic going to see what all the smoke coming from the sky was.

Warnings: Robogore I guess? Not too descriptive yet.

When the ship was hit, Jazz and Prowl were already on deck and preparing a counterattack. They’d tried everything to cloak the ship from the Decepticons, but unfortunately they failed. One good shot to the Arcs main thrusters and it was starting to look like game over. Luckily that desperate shot gave Prowl a great opportunity to strike back. He landed a near perfect hit on the Nemesis before Optimus ordered a retreat.

Most of the crew were heading toward the escape pods per protocol, which was just fine by Prowl, but the damage to the Arc was severe. Severe enough that without somebody staying behind to keep it flying for a little longer, nobody would make it out with their sparks intact. Now, Prowl was never one to go against orders, especially not from Optimus, but there were little other options he had. As third in command it was his obligation to do everything in his power to save the lives of his crew.

Jazz knew that too. He just wasn’t a hardass.

“Heya Prowler, got cherself in a tangle here, eh?”

“This is not the time for jokes!” He snapped.

“Hey, hey, no joking here. I know what you’re tryin’ to do. And I’m gonna help ya.”

“No, I can keep the Arc up for long enough-”

“Cool it hothead, I’m second in command, remember? You take orders for me. And I say I’m helpin’”

“What about Optim-“

“He’s helpin’ the rest escape. I’m sure he plans to do this himself if we don’t take the wheel.” The ship trembled around them. “I’ll take the thrusters, you protect the pods.”

Prowl mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Please stop cutting me off.” With that the Arc began its final decent. From the windows Prowl watched as escape pods flew out of the ship one by one. He did everything he could to prevent his friends from being turned into scrap midair. In seconds the number of pods still in danger trickled out. Warning signs flashed on every screen in the room, but neither paid much mind. As long as their cause continued, dying here wasn’t so bad, right?

Fate had other plans, though.

As the thrusters finally lost power and the ship began to rapidly descend to the planet below, Prowl and Jazz watched as each system went down one by one. Life support: offline, shields: offline, warp core: offline, escape pods… offline. They could only hope the rest made it out okay.

The fact a stray shot from what they assumed to be the Nemesis was hurtling towards them wasn’t really ideal. Neither bot had the time to react before the entire room was engulfed in flame. The windows shattered from the force, sending everything inside out into the atmosphere, including Prowl and Jazz.

——————————

The Arc was gone. Gone as in nobody knew where it was at least, which might as well be nowhere at all considering this planet was entirely alien. Actually, where was this planet? Where were they? Wait… who’s they? What’s a planet…? Wait, no, wait- what?

Jazz was running dangerously low on energon. And his left arm, apparently. That was definitely gone. His optics were offline for the time being, as were most of his senses. Luckily that included pain! Unluckily, he could be literally anywhere right now. And so could the rest of the crew…. and Prowl.

Prowl landed hard upon a canopy of trees that immediately gave under his weight. He couldn’t hear much outside of the ringing in his audials. Maybe that was lucky, maybe he wasn’t actually falling through trees on a faraway planet. Maybe he was getting chewed out by Jazz for being stupid, or tuning out Swerve for being Swerve.

…Deep down he knew that was wrong. He should be dead. Maybe he was. Maybe death was better than whatever going on now.

No. No, that was the cowards way out. Get up, Prowl, open your optics. One step at a time. You’re a soldier, you’re a commander. This is no time to be sitting around and- HACK — his body lurched as he spit up energon.

Alright, ok, slower then.

He could feel his entire frame creak. Slowly his optics sparked to life. The world was dim and glitchy. Objects around him moved in ways nothing should ever move. He wished Ratchet were there. He wished anyone were there. Wasn’t there somebody else that was supposed to be there?

“Prowler?” A weak but familiar voice sounded from somewhere far, far away. Or was it very close? It was hard to tell. “P- Prowler, my optics- are you there?”

“Jazz…” He replied almost unconsciously. “A- a- affirmative.” Most of his professor was screaming system failure, warning him of what he already suspected. He couldn’t see Jazz, not in his immediate line of sight, but knowing he was there was comforting. Knowing he was there for the end.

“W- we need h- help, com’on, we n- nee-”

“It’s o- okay. I- it’ll be okay, J- Jazz.” It wasn’t often Prowl was willing to talk so openly to others. Not about how he really felt at the moment. But who was around to witness this anyway? Who would be there to see his vulnerability? Rules, regulations, laws, sanctions, they didn’t matter anymore. His job was done now, right? He’d done well?

“B- big talk for a b- bot that soun’s l- like a g- g- glitch ‘ouse.”

“Haha. F- funny.”

“We must b- be in b- b- big trouble if t- the mighty Prowl is l- laughin’.”

Warning: System failure imminent

“W- we m- must be j- just f- fine if you c- can still crack j- jokes.”

Stasis mode will activate in 5…

“G- got me t- there, P- Prowl- ler.”

4…

“…W- who gave you p’mission to c- call me Pr- Prowler…”

3…

“A- ah, there’s t- the tightass I kn- know.”

2…

“Y- you’re r- really g- going to go out like t- th- this, J- Jazz?”

1…

“N- no b- better way, Prowl- Prowl- Prowler.”

Initiating stasis…

“Goodnight.”

“G- Goodnight…”

Procedure successful.

——————————————

Camping. Frankly, you hated it. It sucked! It all sucked. You’d much rather be back in the garage working on whatever project you had going on at the time. Cars were your specialty, though you chose to believe you could fix anything if enough effort was put into it. Unfortunately, out here in the middle of NOWHERE, you were out of luck when it came to machinery.

It was still bright out when you went to set up your tent. A beautiful, clear sky. You picked some random clearing near a small stream to lay your things down. While camping wasn’t your strong suit, building definitely was. That’s why you were even doing this in the first place- “no better teacher than experience”, your mother told you. You didn’t see what kind of mechanical experience you’d gain from this bullshit, but you also knew better than to question her.

Whether you wanted to be here or not, time still kept marching forward, and you wanted to save every bit of daylight you could before the forest got too dark to traverse. It took about an hour to get your campsite set up enough to be livable. You were expected to do much before time was up, but you had a couple days to complete that. Ugh, days. You had to spend days out here.

The sky darkened a little earlier than you expected. Sunset was in an hour, yet the perfect blue you’d been enjoying before was slowly being dimmed. When you looked up you saw black clouds. The kind that roll over the sky when a thunderstorm happens. The forecast didn’t call for rain, and even if it did it’s not like you weren’t prepared, but those were definitely no good omen.

A strange, low droning noise became more apparent the darker the sky got. You were trying to ignore it before, maybe the forest just made that sound sometimes. But no, when you looked up, you could make out something else strange.

Those clouds were coming from… nowhere, it seemed. Like two very very very tiny planes were producing enough smoke to cover the sun like a volcano.

Then it got weirder.

Strange little black things begun to jet out from thin air. They went in all different directions, some producing smoke themselves. You finally came to your senses when something up there definitely exploded. Whatever the hell was happening in the sky was not normal and you were not going to be in a random forest when the apocalypse or whatever came. More sounds crashed above, each getting louder by the second. While most of the black things were headed far from your location, you didn’t want to be there when one landed.

The campsite was left abandoned. Your legs felt like someone put them through a taffy puller. Your brain was so focused on getting back to civilization you didn’t notice the glaring issue right above your head.

Well, it was less glaring and more hurtling. Hurtling towards you. From the sky.

Needless to say, you were not very happy when the ground shook and a shockwave of dirt and ash blew past you. You were surprised there wasn’t a crater or a forest fire or something. No, instead there was… well you were too far to see, but it was strange. White metal, maybe.

A terrifying thought passed through your panic stricken head. Somebody could be over there. Maybe it was a plane crash, maybe people were dying, or- or worse! Whatever you were witnessing wasn’t normal, obviously, but hell if you were going to sit on your ass while (assumed) people were in danger.

You just hoped that instinct was right, because most of your other senses told you to hightail it out of there. Suddenly, camping didn’t sound too bad.

[tripleglitchwriting]

I saw that the request is open, so I thought. How about a first contact au with rotb optimus? I've always liked that old bot haha

Hell yeah I rewatched the movie for this. Sorry it took longer for me to actually write this than I anticipated 😅

Some Things Are More Important

CW: Unintentional fearplay, calling a person “it” (also unintentionally)

Ah, the junkyard. A beautiful array of scrap metal glinting under the sun day after day, perfect for welding and crafting. For the longest time the atmosphere of the place put you off, but your drive to create overtook your fear and replaced it with passion.

The day your life changed was no different than any other. You took your time packing your things, preparing to scavenge once again, though the evening sun was already threatening to advance further down the sky. You didn’t need much, it wasn’t a far trip and certainly not a difficult one. You left in good time, pushing down the uneasy feeling you got when you stepped outside the house.

There was a specific piece of metal you were looking for, one you saw a couple days ago but wouldn’t fit in your cart due to how full it had been. It was the perfect size and shape for what you needed, of course you had to leave behind the one thing you needed now, though it couldn’t hurt to pick up some other materials while you were at it. Masterfully navigating your way through the junk was a special talent of yours, one you were quite proud of, so it struck you as odd when a random truck showed up in the middle of the yard.

It was red and blue, one of those trucks that carried huge cargo boxes and were scary to drive next to. It was pretty beat up, though you can’t imagine why someone would leave it here of all places rather than a used car lot or something. Well, you thought, it wasn’t your problem, so you didn’t treat it as such. You simply continued your search. There were so many great pieces of metal, you ended up staying there until dusk, yet you still couldn’t find the one you were looking for.

Now that you think about it, it must’ve been where that truck was now. Maybe somebody moved it, or worse, took it. It would be a huge bummer to lose such a perfect piece to your puzzle, so you figured staying out to look near the truck wouldn’t hurt anybody.

After around ten minutes of picking through trash, you heard a sound. It wasn’t particularly loud, but it was unnerving to say the least. It sounded like metal scraping together so you brushed it off as the wind blowing on some light metal or something. Five minutes later it happened again, this time louder. Not long after it happened again, and by now you were getting pretty freaked out.

Taking metal from the scrapyard wasn’t particularly illegal, after all you’d learned how to do it properly from your law-abiding friends, however it came with a certain set of risks. Getting cut by rusty metal, stepping on a stray nail, or even getting robbed by someone who preys on scrap pickers like yourself. You didn’t want to know what the sound was and you weren’t about to find out, perfect piece be dammed. It was time to cut your losses.

You didn’t take two steps before it happened.

A strange, mechanical, alien sound rattled from behind you. You whipped your head around despite your survival instincts telling you to run immediately. Before your very eyes the red and blue truck started pulling itself part, little pieces forming a much, much larger figure. It looked nearly human really, if not for being impossibly large and also a robot truck.

A gobsmacked look etched itself on your face, not that you noticed it. You were a little preoccupied at the time, with the giant robot reaching a giant robot hand at you. Just then you realized there was a giant robot hand reaching at you, and you screamed louder than any horror movie victim ever could. The hand froze for a second, taken aback by your sudden noise, but when you remained frozen it continued its pursuit.

It was already too late by the time your body agreed to let you move. Incomprehensibly large fingers wrapped around your comparatively small form, gripping you tight enough to stop any struggles you tried to make. The thing held you up to its face, bright blue eyes shining like headlights in your vision. There were plenty of words that came from your mouth at the time, none of which were at any point comprehendible. To your utter shock, the robot seemed to notice this.

“Perhaps I have downloaded the wrong language pack… or I have found the wrong species…” It said to itself in a distinctly human voice.

“Wh- what the- what are- what are you?” Hooray! You got a sentence out. Your heart was not as excited though, as it felt more like it was going to pound out of your chest.

“So you can speak.” The voice boomed, knocking any hope you had of replying out of your throat.

“What?? What???” You rasped out, two words was better than none, you supposed.

“Did I… break you?”

“Did you- no, no you… didn’t. Please don’t.”

“I do not intend to bring you any harm, little one.“

“Then… stop squeezing… me” The grip immediately loosened. You took in a deep breath of air. “Thank you…”

“My sincerest apologies, I did not mean to hurt you.”

“That’s good to know… but, um, what exactly are you? I asked it before but… you know.” The robot nodded with you, a thoughtful motion but a generally unwelcome one because even the smallest moments it made caused you a bout nausea.

“Yes, introductions. My name is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots.” Optimus Prime… a strange name. Though it’s not like your current situation was any more normal.

“…I’m Whyen, nice to meet you. Could you… put me down, by any chance?” Optimus nodded, gently setting you down. He stood up again, but realized how much you had to crane your neck up to see him, so he resolved to a kneel.

“What are you.” However tough he looked on the outside, you would feel the sheer curiosity oozing off his voice.

“Uh, I’m a human.”

“Human… and you’re the dominant species on this planet?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“I see. I was lucky to find a vehicle mode with your language on it.”

“I… don’t really know what that means but ok. So, what are you?”

“I am Cybertronian, from the planet Cybertron.”

“Huh. Another planet.” You kicked by the oncoming existential crisis in hopes of more answers. “Right… so, if you’re from space, why are you here?” His face suddenly shifted from curiosity to a grim look of remembrance.

“There is a war on my planet. Me and my team have ended up here on accident, I’m afraid.”

“Oh… well, I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, I have no intention of staying here longer than we have to, doing so could endanger this entire planet.”

“Wait, what? The- all- the whole planet?”

“Yes,” He responded in a low, distant voice. “Our enemies, unlike us, would not hesitate to destroy any planet if it meant winning the war.” You started at him in shock. In an attempt to avoid further panic, you decided to take a different route on questioning.

“Who’s ‘us’?”

“The Autobots, my friends.”

“So you’re saying… you’re leading your side of the war? Like a general?”

“Yes, to put it simply.”

“Wow… this is… a lot. How are you going to find your friends?”

“I… do not know. I was attempting to contact them before I noticed you.“

“Oh…”

“Do not worry. If the Deceptions attack this planet, we will protect it with our very sparks. A young species such as yourselves do not deserve to be punished for our mistakes.” Your expression softened. As this metal titan spoke to you, in gentle, deep tones, you felt strangely at peace. You felt silly for ever being afraid of him, like you’d known this alien for ages. He didn’t even know you, yet he was willing to risk his life for your home.

“…Thank you.”

“Do not thank me now, young human, I have yet to get your people out of harms way.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you going to be okay?” Optimus’s eyes widened for just a second before his face broke into a warm smile.

“…I will be just fine.”

“Well, if it’s my planet at stake… I want to help you.”

“Help me?”

“Yeah. I know more about this planet than you do, so I can show you how things work around here. It’s the least I can do.”

“That is very kind of you, you have my thanks.”

“Well, first I have to get home and sleep- my house isn’t too far from here, and I live alone so you don’t have to worry about anyone else freaking out. Not many people live around here.”

“That is good. I… apologies if I am too bold, is it okay if I carry you back to your home? It would be in our best interest to get to your home as fast as possible.”

“Ah, true. Well, I guess so.” He laid out his hand. It took you a second to climb on a stabilize yourself, nodding when you were ready for him to move. And he did, and you guided him all the way home. You hardly even noticed the junkyard and forgotten scrap metal you’d spent the night collecting.

Some things are more important.

[tripleglitchwriting]

Ignition (Part 2)

GN human reader, Ratchet-centric

CW: Graphic injury, getting burned by water, unintentional fearplay, mild language, a solid block of angst, referring to a person as “it” (unintentionally)

You’d made pretty good time all things considered. The lightheadedness and constant nausea were a mere annoyance now. You were going to find where that noise came from and you were going to get help and you were going to survive this. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Trying to get places with a broken leg and a dwindling supply of adrenaline was not your best idea. To be fair, neither was agreeing to go on a hike alone in an unfamiliar forest. For hours you clawed your way through the leaf padded forest floor (thank god for autumn), but as the sun began to set a familiar sense of dread crept into your psyche.

You could die here.

Keyword: Could. You’re too stubborn to sit in place and wait for a rescue or call for help in dense, unpopulated woods. Bursts of perseverance refused to let you lay down. Not long after your thirteenth short spout of energy, you began to regret your bullheaded pursuit. Not because you were tired or losing hope, but because you may have just found what you were looking for. And it was fucking huge. At least that’s what you could tell from the earth splitting footsteps and overarching shadow beginning to cast itself over you.

The thing towered above your already crumpled body. It didn’t even seem to notice you at first… until you involuntarily screamed very, very loudly. Then it looked directly at you. Shit.

Bright blue lights beamed down at you like the sun through a stained glass window. Not like a beautiful sunset, of course not, it was like the kind of light that blinded you and only you when you went to sit down. Its eyes alone pinned you in place, but once you regained your vision its face came into view. A realization came to mind, it was decidedly not a giant. That would be too easy. It was a giant ROBOT. Because normal mystical creatures were apparently too last century so you were stuck with this. And all that adrenaline you had so badly needed earlier came flooding back.

First, you screamed again. Then, in your frenzy, you tired to run away, immediately remembering why you hadn’t done so before. You kept trying though, and you kept failing. Its hand, which was bigger than your entire body, began to descend down on you. Before it could get halfway though, a very helpful bought of more screaming and one-legged kicking seemed to deter it. Good news! You weren’t dead. Bad news! It was making awful metal grinding noises now.

You could feel your heart pick up in speed and your breathing quicken to dangerous levels. Attempting to back away again you noticed its face scrunch up into a weird shape which was not what you expected for something made out of metal.

Inside you something snapped when it reached out again. Some primal fear ignited by pain and panic. More screaming lurched its way out of you, this time with an animalistic undertone you didn’t even know was possible. You tried to claw and fight against its fingers as they eased their way under your back, but they were too strong. Or you were too weak. Either way, the thing was lifting you up, images of kids with dolls flashed in your mind as you got closer to its face. You felt scrutinized, but it didn’t last long as another hand was placed on top of the one you laid on, sealing your fate in darkness.

Well, at least if you survive you’ll have one hell of a story to tell. Unfortunately that didn’t seem very likely, because you felt gravity abandon you as the thing walked away.

——————————

Ratchet felt horrible about the way it struggled and cried, but there wasn’t much he could do for comfort. He just needed to get back to the pod, maybe he could find some sort of anti-bacterial spray or something to seal the wounds, maybe a splint for that limb. Pit, he’d even just take some fresh water to clean it up.

Thing is he didn’t know much about treating organics, especially not ones he was unfamiliar with. In this case “unfamiliar” was putting it lightly. Eventually he stumbled back upon the pod, immediately looking around for something to help. There didn’t seem to be anything of much use, not if these things couldn’t withstand intense welding, and he highly doubted they could.

Quickly he looked back at his scans. There was some sort of water source nearby, if he could purify it maybe he could at least wash out its injuries. With no other option he strode off toward a small creek. He took a medical blowtorch with him to kill off any harmful bacteria that might be in the water.

Once there he got to work. Well, he would have if he had the hands for it. Very carefully he set the thing down on the ground, creating a quick storage container out of scrap from the ship and his blowtorch. Soon after the water was boiling, and he was ready.

The thing, in fact, was not ready. As evident by the painted screams it let out when he tried to wash out the wounds. He would just ignore this as more struggling, but its skin turned a shade of pink where the water had touched it.

Of course, the heat! This thing didn’t have the metal to protect its squishy body, he was burning it! Luckily he hadn’t done much, only a drop of the water really. Ratchet got to cooling the liquid off immediately, but when he went back to check on the thing its little optics were closed and it wasn’t moving. Frag, frag, frag. He did a scan of its body- and to his intense relief it was only unconscious. He had a lot to learn about this species, but for now he’d have to focus on making sure this one didn’t offline.

Some time later it looked a bit better- at least with all that grime off. He didn’t remove the coverings it wore, for all he knew that could offline it. Though, he did scan the things skeletal structure. It was… strange, and honestly quite impractical. Its denta showed it was most likely an omnivore, which would be helpful in getting it refueled later. The back molars were flat yet it still had sharp incisors, Wheeljack would be enamored. But Wheeljack wasn’t here, he remembered, and neither was anyone else he had ever known.

His spark dropped, but was subsequently interrupted by the things stirring. Its optics opened in a dazed confusion, at least that’s what he assumed anyway. Scrap, he hadn’t had the time to make a splint! When it fully woke up it seemed awfully aware of that fact, again attempting to move away but falling back all the same. He realized words weren’t going to help, so maybe actions would.

Ratchet knelt down lower to make himself look smaller- a behavior he’d observed in other wild creatures. He was a bit disappointed by the lack of a positive reaction but soon caught it glancing at his servos. It must not want to be grabbed again, and he couldn’t blame the thing for it. He only raised his servos up slowly with open palms, and placed them behind his back. This seemed to get a reaction, as it stopped trying to back away. Instead it tilted its helm and finally tore its optics off him.

It looked down at itself, noticing the lack of dirt and red energon. If its expressions were to be compared to that of a cybertronian, he’d say its face softened. It looked up at him again, still very hesitant but progress had been made. And right now, progress was all he could ask for.

[tripleglitchwriting]

Wohoo! My first fic on this blog.

This one isn’t specifically any continuity, it’s kind of a mishmash of all of them. It is set in a first contact universe.

Ratchet-centric, GN human reader (though there are POV changes)

Ignition (Part 1)

CW: Graphic injury, mild language, angst

Flashing lights and blaring sirens shouted at Ratchet from all sides of the ship. He’d been in the medbay when the attack started- while not entirely unexpected considering where they were it was still a surprise. Despite their best efforts, a Decepticon ship had managed to track them down.

Not two minutes later Optimus ordered a retreat. At the time it didn’t make much sense to Ratchet, but he trusted his friend enough to go with it. Arcee, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Drift, Wheeljack, and a couple others joined him in getting into an escape pod. Frankly, he was hesitant to go, there were plenty of bots unaccounted for still on the main deck, but Optimus let everyone know through the comm link that he had a plan. With that he begrudgingly boarded his pod, expecting to be launched into space and put into stasis. The pod shot out of the ship normally, but the next couple minutes were anything but normal.

Outside the small window he immediately noticed they were very, very close to a nearby planet. So close, in fact, the escape pods wouldn’t be able to get out of orbit. Immediately after that realization, and saying something along the lines of “this couldn’t get any worse”, things got worse. The pods’ emergency warning systems activated, which would have been a surprise if Ratchet didn’t already feel the impact of what was most likely heavy blaster fire on the back of it.

Again, lights flashed and sirens of all sorts begged for his attention, yet the stasis lock system was a-okay. It was also beginning to activate. Now as he plummeted to an unfamiliar planet in a damaged escape pod he could only hope the rest of his friends were safe. Then, he heard a very loud explosion from farther away and promptly went into stasis.

—————————

“Go on a hike”, they said, “It will make you feel better”, they said. Well, right now you feel pretty damn bad considering you were incredibly lost, had no idea how to survive in the wild, and you had a very definitely broken leg.

It hurt like hell when you fell and it really didn’t get any better from there. Most of your body was either scratched or developing a nasty bruise, other than your right leg which was bent in a way it shouldn’t be. You fought off nausea as you lay on the forest floor, at the bottom of a steep cliff, tears stinging your eyes and hands clutching the bag you managed to hold onto. You didn’t think it could get any worse. Of course, that notion was quickly thrown out the window when a very loud explosion shook your aching body to its core.

You groaned at the feeling, but still turned to look in the direction of whatever it was. You didn’t see much other than trees, leaves, and your own tears clouding your vision, but you did notice some weird thing streaking through the sky. God, maybe you hit your head harder than you thought. Still, even if you did just spontaneously develop exploding head syndrome and began hallucinating, checking out a possible source of help was better than laying in your spot to rot.

You just needed to drag yourself to wherever it was… and try to ignore the pain while you did it. Needless to say, you made it a solid two feet before your body gave out and you lost consciousness.

————————

Ratchet woke up in what was now effectively a pile of burnt metal. He murmured some unintelligible curses to himself before running a self diagnostic- luckily nothing too bad had happened to him, at least nothing he couldn’t fix. He tried to activate his comm link, which unsurprisingly only sputtered static. He pushed down the horrible feeling in his fuel tank in favor of focusing on the problem at hand: Where the frag was he?

Slamming his servo on the release switch, Ratchet stumbled out of the pod, falling on the floor immediately. Right, his injuries. He would have to fix that. Just after he made sure the rest of the crew was alright. Looking up he noticed the world around was primarily organic. He’d landed in some dense forested location. The good news was the temperature, atmosphere, and plant life (from what he could tell from a simple scan) were safe. The bad news was there was absolutely nothing remotely cybertronian within scanning range, which meant his friends had probably landed much farther away, or… well anything could have happened, really. He’d just have to hold onto hope, not that that has done much good so far.

If there was any sentient life on this planet (which, frankly, he doubted there was) they weren’t anywhere around here. During the war the Autobots had visted plenty of organic planets with sentient organic lifeforms, though not all of them were friendly. Either way, by the looks of things he was going to be here awhile. He realized a lot later than he’d ever admit in order to explore around being able to walk would be pretty useful, so Ratchet began repairs. It wasn’t long before he was able to get back on his pedes with minimal pain. The next step was to look for anything useful.

Unfortunately, despite how broad the term was, “anything useful” didn’t seem to show itself. There was dirt, plants, and more dirt. There were various creatures he would have loved to have a look at if the situation wasn’t so dire. As the planets star went down and dark started to creep into the land, his grip on hope started to slip just a bit more.

Ratchet decided to go back to his pod- maybe he could fix up the distress beacon, or patch up his comm link, or just do anything other than walking around getting dirty. Of course, just as the pod came into distant view, a high pitched squealing noise from below nearly gave him a spark-attack.

It was small, probably the size of one of his digits. Splayed out on the ground with this strange expression on its face. When he looked down at it, the thing made a similar noise, trying to move back. Most of the creatures he’d encountered had scampered off before he could get a good look, but this one stayed put, its little chasis heaving up and down at an alarming rate.

He bent down to get a better look at the thing. It had some sort of covering on it, something that wasn’t the plants he’d become so familiar with. Its face became strained as once again it tried to move back, now squeaking out unintelligible nonsense. The pieces soon clicked into place: It wasn’t curious or stupid, it was injured. That was made obvious by the small cuts decorated with dried red energon, or whatever organics had in them, but it was made very clear when he noticed the angle one of its limbs was at.

It was trying to leave but couldn’t move. Scrap, did he do this? Was it caught in the crash? He quickly moved to scoop the thing up out of instinct, but it only shouted more, this time with a feral twinge.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. I’m going to help you.” Of course he knew speaking slowly wouldn’t make it understand, but maybe the tone would show his intent.

Judging by how its optics widened and began to drip some sort of liquid, he figured it was a failed attempt. Though even if it didn’t like it, the thing still needed help, and if he couldn’t help his friends at least he could help it. Whatever it was.

Very, very carefully he shimmied his digits under its back, trying again to speak in hushed tones. It squirmed and writhed and screamed, wincing at every touch. When it was safely in his servos he closed them around it, hopefully protecting it from any natural predators they might encounter. He grit his denta at every attempt it made to escape or wiggle free. As he made his way back to his pod, Ratchet had a feeling this was going to be more than he bargained for.

[tripleglitchwriting]

Ignition (Short 1)

CW: mostly fluff, mentions of war (both human and cybertronian)

Because I accidentally set the poll to a week rather than a day, I’m going to bridge the gap with a short story.

This is set shortly after part 4 because I like writing dialogue.

After the initial heart attack that was the last 48 hours or so, you began to feel more comfortable with this giant alien. He was kind, which was something you figured out after he saved your life, and he assured you he wasn’t going to kill you.

Now you were cupped in his hands while he walked back to this pod of his.

“So, what’s this pod thing we’re going to? Is it like a space ship?”

“Escape pod.” Ratchet remembered the crash. Well, he remembered what he could of it. Suddenly an old worry popped into his head.

“Right, right, escape pod.”

“Your injury, it wasn’t from… the crash, was it?”

“Oh, no, I fell down a cliff. It sounds stupid when I say it out loud.” Ratchet stifled an ex-vent of relief. “I was on a hike but I got lost, and then I started to panic because I don’t know how to survive in the wild, and then I panicked too hard and tripped in the worst spot imaginable.”

“You went out into an unknown area with no experience on how to survive there or any contingency plan if things went wrong?” He said with a mix of worry and vague frustration.

“Well there was a path… but there was also cool flowers off the path, and then I saw a rare bird, and then the path was gone. I really don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to come out here, I should have known better. I was doing fine at home I just… I don’t know.”

“Does your kind usually do things like this?”

“No, not really. Just me.”

“I see. Are you… no offense, but are you the dominant species on this planet?”

“What? I mean, I guess, we’re the only ones that can talk and all. That we know of. Actually, it would probably be a shock to the world if they found out about you. Knowing us we’d probably start attacking or something.”

“Attack? Why would you do that?”

“Well, I mean, I wouldn’t, but I’ve taken enough history classes to know as a whole we can be… violent. I hope no one else saw you crash, things could get nasty if they see you as a threat.”

“Thats… quite primitive.”

“Oh, gee thanks.”

“No offense.”

“Probably should have led with that.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Ratchet hummed to himself for a second, and then he began to think out loud. “If they do find me at least I’ll be able to get away…”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well- I- I wouldn’t think your technology is exactly…”

“Not up to par with your superior standards? Well don’t worry about that. We have weapons that can wipe out the world in a span of hours. Every country has their hand over the big red launch button, and if they see you as too much to handle, somebody is going to get blown up.”

“What? That’s- that’s crazy! You mean to say your leaders would sacrifice… how ever many there are of you in a given area just to take me out?”

“They probably wouldn’t do straight to the nuclear option for one of you, but if there were more and they were killing people, then probably yeah. If things work like they do in the movies that is.” Ratchet paused, about to make some snide remark about the primitive violence of the human race, but he stopped when he remembered the history of his own people.

“…I’ll keep myself hidden then.”

“Oh, um, good. I wasn’t really expecting you to accept that so fast.”

“If my own history were any different I might not have.” He sank deeper into thought. “Doe, is there a medical station anywhere near here I can drop you off at?”

“Wait, I thought we were going to your pod?”

“We are, I just… I got caught up in healing you and… look, I’ll be honest, I don’t want you to get hurt. How many of you are there on this planet?”

“I- I don’t know, 7, maybe 8 billion?”

“Billio- scrap.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s fine, it’s nothing. Let’s just… talk about something else.”

“Well, alright I guess.” After you said that, both you and Ratchet stayed silent for an agonizingly awkward minute. You felt the sway of him walking waft through your entire body, a feeling you haven’t even began to get used to. He seemed largely unaware of this, at least to your knowledge, and instead looked forward with a serious expression.

“How about we talk about… the weather. It certainly is sunny today! And there are… uh, a couple clouds… wait, no that’s just a weird tree.”

“You aren’t great at small talk.”

“How about you try then?”

“…no.”

“Oh I see how it is. Fine, you’ll just have to deal with my terrible communication skills.” You took a deep breath, preparing to go on a rant about whatever was on your mind.

“Oh please don’t.”

“Unless you’re going to say something I will.”

“Alright, alright. What do you want me to talk about?”

“That’s up to you, conversation expert.” You smiled smugly up at him. He huffed in return.

For the next five minutes he talked about his life up to this point. His friends, his enemies, glossing over assumedly painful details. In your mind a picture started to form about all of this. He wasn’t just an alien, he was a person. A person with real relationships, real love and loss, real war, real family. You felt silly having not seen it before.

A friend. You’d like to think that’s what you were now, though it was tough to tell based on the way he acted. You wondered who all of his other friends could be, where they were, and you even went as far as to silently wish them well.

Arriving back at the pod, hopping off the hand of a giant alien that saved you from dying the woods, you realized this may have been more than you bargained for.

[tripleglitchwriting]

Combustion (Part 1)

Soundwave (TFP) centric, gn human reader

CW: swearing, fearplay, calling a person ‘it’ (unintentionally)

Counting raindrops was not a particularly exciting or engaging activity, but it was enough to entertain you for the minute it took to get another bite on your fishing line. Sure fishing in the rain wasn’t the best idea, but it was better than stewing in boredom. Your house was close by anyway.

The river was always teeming with life- how could you ever ignore it, especially when it was raining? The smell of nature brought you back time and time again. And time and time again you found yourself sitting outside, sopping wet, counting raindrops, and trying to catch fish for no good reason. It wasn’t exactly the life you expected, but it’s the one you got, and that was okay with you.

Until it all came crumbling down when a giant fucking robot crashed into the lake.

—————

Despite Megatron’s best efforts, the ship was thrown into chaos. At first it was all going as planned- an ambush attack to destroy the Autobots once and for all. Soundwave managed to get a direct hit on one of their engines by tapping into the Nemesis’s defense systems, but it seemed the enemy had the same idea. As always, he stayed calm in situations like this, unsurprising the rest of the panic stricken crew.

Alarms blared as the ship’s main systems began to fail. Soundwave did everything he could to keep it running but to no avail. With a final order from his leader, the third in command was forced to abandon his post and into an escape pod.

He tried to ask what would become of Megatron, but the chaos didn’t allow for much information to get across to anyone, especially not with his oath of silence. Most of the pods were already gone, as well as Starscream who was specifically not given the order to leave.

He looked one last time at the Nemesis before entering the pod, hoping Megatron had a plan. Though, he always had a plan. All he could do now was trust in the mech he dedicated his life to. After all, what’s another disaster? He had survived much worse.

—————

The thing came out of nowhere. Well, not nowhere, it came out of the sky, but that didn’t narrow much down in your mind. You first realized something was wrong when you saw a plane flying by. Accept it wasn’t a plane, it was a big black machine from god knows where. It started out as a blip in the atmosphere but it quickly became evident that thing was going to land close, and you didn’t want to be there when it exploded or something.

You didn’t get too far. In fact, the mini earthquake it made when it hit the ground knocked you on your ass and almost into the river. Your fishing pole was long gone, as were the fish, that was evident by the fact that there was now a huge shiny jet black space object sitting smack dab in the center of the river. Now, as it seemed, getting rained on was the least of your worries.

You mumbled words of surprise and fear, made worse by the rumbling now radiating from the machine. It caused the river to ripple like a child trying to balance a full cup of water. Every other sound was either silenced or drowned out by the sudden movement. You tried to scoot back. You heard a click come from the thing, followed by the mechanical whirring of paneling removing itself from the shell, letting out a hiss of smoke.

Whatever this thing was it wasn’t something you were very interested in seeing the end result of. You tripped over your own mud soaked boots to get to a nearby tree, one big enough to at least conceal yourself behind. The panel continued to rise but you didn’t bother to look back and see it. Something inside you screamed to run and fast as you could to wherever you could, and you almost listened to it, but another click signified your time was cut short.

The tree was your best bet, and you were incredibly grateful to be there because something was moving inside that thing. Something big. It was as black as the pod it came from, but still accented by purple streaks along its frame. Slender arms and legs hobbled outside, sending river water crashing in waves along the bank. It was like nothing you’d ever seen before- more insane than anything you ever seriously imagined happening to you. A giant robot falling from the sky. Fantastic…

—————

Something went wrong. The pod should have slowed down during orbit, but instead it sent him hurtling down into an unknown planet’s atmosphere. Not ideal. Still, there was a war going on and he did not have the time to waste.

He seemed to have landed in a small stream surrounded by organic life. That’s what his scanners told him… right before they fizzled out and went offline. With no way to view the outside world he figured ejecting Lazerbeak would be the best course of action, but when he went to wake him up the drone didn’t respond. Only then did Soundwave start to feel a prick of fear. Maybe he was still having a hard time getting out of stasis lock, or he was out of energy after the crash.

Soundwave out a servo to his chasis and pushed those thoughts away. Right now he needed to contact the Nemesis and rejoin Megatron. With all the damage done to his pod he had no choice but to exit. He did so, though it seemed the stasis lock was still wearing off on him, or maybe he’d been damaged, because it took some effort to climb out of the vehicle.

Luckily his personal scanners were still online. It seemed this planet had precipitation in the form of water- not uncommon. Around him were various forms of organic flora, though from what he could tell no fauna. If there was sentient life here, it wasn’t very obvious. Just in case he flipped on heat seeking vision, curtesy of Shockwave, and did a one over on the area. No sign of anything… except a small figure hidden behind a large plant.

He strode toward it, not flinching at the grime that coated his pedes or the water sliding down his visor. The figure got a little smaller as he approached, curling in on itself. An interesting reaction, did it know he was there? Soundwave readjusted his vision to normal and placed a servo on the side of the plant’s trunk.

He peered over, revealing a small organic bundled up in a little ball. It was shivering. Could it be that it was trying to avoid the precipitate by huddling itself here? Well, if it was it wasn’t doing a very good job. Maybe Shockwave would enjoy a new test subject though. Soundwave should be back on the Nemesis soon as long as he could fix up his communication system.

Extending his tentacle like appendages, he carefully pushed the organic’s body open, causing it to squeak and try to escape. He quickly grabbed it before it could run. Its shaking intensified as well as its struggles, not that its weak struggling was a problem for Soundwave. He squeezed it a little, earning him another squeak, and it seemed to get the message. Smart.

Scanning the area again but finding nothing, he resigned to go back to the pod. There was nothing of use around from what he could see, he needed to fix Lazerbeak fast. Soundwave was the eyes and ears of the Deceptions, he couldn’t forget that. There was nothing left for him anywhere else.

Even so, in the disaster he found himself in, the little form in his claw brought some comfort to his spark. It was sort of endearing the way it started up its squirming again and refused to give up. It was nice to know a little thing that that could have so much spirit. Maybe this whole mess wouldn’t be so bad after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry this took a bit for me to get out! It’s been quite the week. For clarification, this fic takes place in the same universe as Ignition, but much farther away. I still haven’t come up with a same for the AU yet.

I don’t know when part 2 will be out, it really depends on how much time and energy I have. I’ve been wearing thin on creativity lately but I still have an idea on where I want to take this. That being said, I hope you enjoyed my story so far! Have a good day/night wherever you may be.