1. Hook - Snoozes the alarm once but gets up punctually the second time it rings. Has a nice warm cup of drip coffee (he's the reason behind the expensive coffee maker in their kitchen). Sometimes cooks a fancy breakfast for everyone if it's a break day.
2. Scavenger - Snoozes the alarm repeatedly, each time with a look at the clock to see how many minutes/seconds he can squeeze in bed. Gets up at the very last minute. However, once he's up, he's quick enough that none of the constructicons, or even Prowl, hardly has a chance to complain about him being late. Wants multiple good morning kisses from whoever's still in the kitchen. Doesn't drink coffee cause it makes him extra jittery.
3. Bonecrusher - sleeps through every single alarm. One of the constructicons has to barge in his room and shout and shake him repeatedly (or jump on his bed ft. Scavenger) till he's forced to get up. Prowl tried to wake him once and promptly threw the towel. Usually skips coffee or breakfast cause he's always running late.
4. Mixmaster - Doesn't set alarms and has to be woken up every morning. The constructicons are used to this and usually Hook or Prowl or Long Haul wakes him up. Unlike Bonecrusher, he wakes up with just a call + slight shake. Light sleeper unless he was high/drunk/experimented a new drink the night before. Drinks 3 sachets of instant coffee + 3 big spoonfuls of sugar in a cup every morning for breakfast.
5. Long Haul - Doesn't set alarms AND YET wakes up on time naturally. He's very smug about it, too. He and Hook usually have their coffee together, though Long Haul just dumps a sachet of instant coffee in his cup of microwaved water. (Hook grimaces at it every time - it's part of their morning routine). Long Haul is of the opinion that he's using the mornings better because while Hook fusses over his coffee, he waters and take care of the plants he keeps in the constructiprowl house, isn't that far more productive than Hook's coffee snobbery?
6. Scrapper (alive and kicking in this au) - wakes up at the first alarm but refuses to get up from the bed. Lounges around till Hook or Prowl comes in to get him up. Demands a good morning kiss before he gets up and is usually indulged (even by Prowl who absolutely refuses to kiss anyone unless they have brushed their teeth, the only exceptions being Scrapper and Scavenger).
7. Prowl - wakes up on the first alarm, gets up from bed on the second one. Usually joins Hook and Long Haul for breakfast (used to skip it before he started living with the 'cons). Has a cup of Hook's fancy coffee every morning (the only person Hook willingly makes coffee for, other than himself). Scrolls through the news on the breakfast table. Has to kiss everyone goodbye before leaving for work (on the demand of the constructicons, but he's so used to it now that he'll secretly feel upset if he misses anyone, Prowl is a creature of routine). He's usually the first one out of house every day.
Tarnma post war established relationship au where instead of committing murder and doing fucked up things to others in society, they do fucked up things to each other with robo bdsm.
Think severed energon lines that cut slightly too deep to be safe or sane, and require a visit to the hospital ER. Pharma with wings bent from too much pressure by too rough servos, forcing him to stop flying for weeks till they heal. Tarn with his tank treads ripped out, leaving behind mangled bits on his frame that need manual refittings. Electostimuli that falls *just* short of frying up their processors, or extended starvation that makes their tanks malfunction.
Of course their paints and detailings are always messed up after each session. They are single handedly pulling up the profits of the local paintshop. The workers there are always happy to see this pair of messed up conjunxes who just want their previous finishes repainted instead of spending hours deciding new colour scheme and who also tip handsomely for the workers' and the shop's discrete services.
The same can't be said for their local hospital, who are half convinced that this is a case of domestic abuse (esp since the infamous decepticon leader is involved). The only things holding them back are:
1. The infamous decepticon leader also happens to get concerningly injured in equal frequencies
2. Pharma is the CMO of the hospital and has imposed gag orders and his and his conjunx's health
Yet somehow, the local news network still gets a scoop - pictures of CMO Pharma's damaged wings, Enforcer Tarn's slashed armor, both with paint stripped and energon on their frames, taken at different times that show them entering the hospital - aired to all of Cybertron.
Tarn gets a few "concerned" calls from his ex war buddies. Only a fraction of the calls are truly well wishing (Megatron is one of these), most are calling to check in with the hot gossip and rub it in Tarn's face, and a good few try to set up threesomes with him and Pharma. Tarn thinks about his DJD days again, and had to remind himself multiple times how Pharma doesn't like energon on his frame except at playtimes.
Pharma on the other hand does get concerned and irritated calls in equal amounts. The rest are polite well wishes from associates or interview requests from press. Prime calls in asking if he needs a marriage counsellor, and Pharma has to go through the mortifying ordeal of explaining extreme bdsm to Optimus, who is considerably vanilla despite settling down with an ex warlord (such a waste, Pharma scoffs internally). Others like Ratchet calls him to be an annoyance, esp since Ratchet is more than aware of Pharma's preferences and has much experience with the Cybertronian bdsm scene himself. First Aid calls him to ask for tips.
It's irritating but it finally culminates into the couple being voted at the second favourite conjunxes of Cybertron, right after Prime and his warlord, beating Rodimus and his Magnus armor fetish conjunx. Tarn is proud of his achievements. He keeps the award on a shelf in his office next to his signed copy of first edition Towards Peace. Pharma is battling spam mails from lube companies in his work email. All is well.
Summary: After crashing into a nearby pine tree, Pit needs more help than he initially thinks.
Word Count: 1970
(A/N): I’m alive I swear ok, just really busy :c
I really needed to write something for Kid Icarus Uprising ok. I literally just started playing it and I juST NEEDED THIS I’M NOT FINISHED WITH THE GAME YET SO NO SPOILERS AFTER CHAPTER 10(??) pls thank u. These two are my brotp in the game so far and I just needed something nice and fun with these two bc I have a feeling this game is gonna hurt me and I’m not ready for it yet. I’m also prolly gonna write some Link/Pit from SSB4 in the near future whoOPS //shrugs loudly
I hope you guys enjoy this one~
.:.:.:.
“Pit, how did you manage to end up in this situation?”
The leaves rustled as the angel shook,ensnared in the branches of one of the many pine trees in the forest. Lady Palutena had sent the boy on a mission to eradicate the surrounding area of monsters from the Underworld Army. Instead, the angel found himself trapped in the trees that some of the monsters may be hiding in. It was humiliating, and Pit's legs dangled loosely from the tree as his body thrashed and squirmed roughly.
“I don't know, you were the one controlling my flight!” Panic washed over the goddess's servant as he continued to wriggle, wings hopelessly flapping to push out. It was a feeble attempt to escape but the tree's grip proved to be too strong for the angel to burst out from. His wings were no doubt trapped and even his patron deity didn't seem to be much of a help.
Feathers free fell from the tree, pooling onto the grass as Magnus walked. He too was searching for the fiendish creatures, ready to slaughter them for a hefty monetary reward.
“Still talking to your goddess, angel face?” Snapping his head around, Pit frantically looked everywhere to try and detect where the voice came from. Peeking from a parting in the leaves, he spotted where the gruff voice came from. Under his dangling legs, the mercenary Magnus stood, wielding his great sword as a trace of a smirk graced his features. The two hadn't crossed paths in a while and to see the burly male came as a surprise to Pit. Jerking in the trees, he again tried to break through.
“Magnus?” He asked, nearly in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
“Doing my job. I had a feeling you already know, since you're already here. But, I guess not.” The snicker in his throat was unable to be suppressed. “How did you get stuck up there? You are an angel, right?”
The older male watched as Pit writhed between the branches, hips gyrating as his legs continued to kick. A blueish glow radiated off his nearly pristine wings, noting Palutena's efforts to assist her underling. But what was more comical to the mercenary was Pit's undignified silence before he mumbled out: “I got my wings hit by a Gyrazer's laser.”
A hearty laugh escaped from Magnus' lips at the comment, one hand pressed against his abdomen while his other pointed his sword downwards to lean onto it. Bellows of chortles vibrated through the forest and it made Pit shudder. If they caught the attention of the monsters roaming these lands, how could they successfully defeat them? Pit couldn't help but growl in response, legs more vocal that his throat was as trying to tell the other to stop making fun of such misfortune. Even if the above reason was enough justification, the angel could feel his delicate ego smash into the ground, just like he wanted to now.
“Out of everyone from the Underworld Army,” Magnus droned on below him, nearing Pit's legs as he looked up to take note of his half concealed face. It was scrunched up in both pitiful effort and useless aggravation and it made Magnus shake his head humorously.
The sudden pressure around his ankles made Pit gasp, body flailing to pull away as he felt a sharp yank down.
“Ouch!” He cried out as the thick hands released his frail legs. “Magnus, what was that for?”
“I'm trying to help you, angel face. If your goddess can't help you, I might well try, huh?”
“Jerk.” Palutena hissed to Pit, voice dripping with venom at the insult as she glowered down at both males. “This guy's more of a jerk than I first thought he was.”
But that was only heard by Pit and he merely huffed in agreement. Continuing to pull himself up, his torso began to ache from the work and the angel slumped back, exhaling quietly.
“These sandals look so heavy on your legs you know.” Magnus observed, golden hues squinted before he dug the tip of his blade into the ground to keep it still. Making quick work of those booted sandals, both hands cupping each calf to yank off both halves of his footwear.
“H-Hey! Why are you doing that?” Pit stammered, toes curling involuntarily from the breeze that ran through them. The backs of his legs were adorned with goosebumps, already missing the warmth the furry insides gave him.
“To help you pull your legs out, angel face.”
Wriggling all over again, Pit was able to do just that. However, he was still stuck in the merciless pine tree, legs only dangling half the distance they were before. Magnus hummed, not pleased with the result. Pit was half-assing it; if he put in more strength and effort, he could free himself. And with a devious plan conjuring into his mind, Magnus knew exactly what to do.
“Do you know what they say about big feet?” He broached, a hand coiling around Pit's left ankle. Trying to rip his leg away proved to be useless, he could barely squirm out of Magnus' grasp.
“Is that supposed to be an insult?” The younger snapped, gritting his teeth as he continued to wiggle aimlessly. His other foot immediately went to prod for the offending hand, kicking and pushing at it and the arm that controlled.
“No, you can take it as a compliment.” Pit's petty rebuttal both physically and verbally was almost cute to the roughened warrior and instead of continuing to tug Pit down, he did something else. Using his free hand, he dragged his jagged fingernails down the angel's sole before letting them claw up his arch and tease at the base of his toes.
If Pit wasn't squirming before, he sure as hell was now. A shocked and harsh cackle rippled from the angel's throat as he thrashed around. The odd and tingly sensations smacked against his nerves and spiraled the angel into hysterics he didn't even know existed.
“Ahh, I guess I was right.” Magnus mused from below, sinister chuckles oozing from his lips as he continued the torturous assault. His fingers lazily dipped between Pit's fanning toes and it elicited a childish giggle and squeal from the angel. “Big feet really are ticklish ones.”
Pit was a mess of immature squeals and squawks from above, continuous giggles dripping from his lips as his body convulsed wildly. His head buried itself in his crossed arms, body twitching in the twigs as he continued to kick his opposite foot at the mercenary as his other foot desperately tried to escape.
“L-Lady Palutena!” Pit cried out in the midst of howls and squeals. “Make Magnus stop!” A shriek bounced through his throat when he felt both of his ankles press into one another, only to be enclosed by the unwavering muscles in Magnus' arm.
However, the female deity couldn't help but chuckle herself at the scene she watched over. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it so much so that she didn't even bother to put the effort into trying. For all the sassy remarks and comebacks he made, she felt Pit deserved this. But the tickling Magnus gave him made Palutena notice something very important and that alone caused her to remain idle.
“Pit, this is actually quite helpful. Keep squirming just like you are now.”
“What?!” Pit screamed aloud incredulously, his torso rocking from side to side as his legs shook furiously. “How is this helping me? I'm still stuck!” His feet were already flushed pink from Magnus' skillful fingers. They continued to slide down Pit's soles, scribbling against the wrinkles appearing and disappearing with each touch before teasingly spidering along his heels. Noting the feathers that pooled onto the grass from Pit's struggles, Magnus halted his tickling for a moment to fish for a few, only to return back to the angel's feet. Sliding a few into Pit's toes, he maneuvered one of them against the angel's feet, gleeful to listen to the boy sing.
“Just like a caged bird.” Magnus muttered to himself, smirking as the feather continued to dance across the angel's vulnerable soles. Dragging it up to his insteps made Pit's laughter crescendo into full fledged screeches. When he grew tired of this, he sawed the feathers already between the angel's toes, enjoying the sounds of Pit's defenseless laughter.
“If Magnus keeps this up and you continue to rock around like you are now, you'll be able to break through these branches and land back onto the ground, Pit!” Palutena reasoned. However, her advice fell on deaf ears, since all Pit could concentrate on was the torment being bestowed onto the bottoms of his feet. He couldn't take the intensity, especially knowing that he couldn't pull away when he felt like he had enough.
But it wasn't as sadistic as the angel assumed. Being so vulnerable, he expected Magnus to completely break him. However, the mercenary seemed to be holding back, for his tickling never grew forceful or pressured than it already was. Was he really just doing this to help?
There was no time for Pit to be sure because with a final buck against the branches, the offending parts snapped, letting him slip through its wooden grasp before pummeling into Magnus. Both fell onto the ground, Pit sprawled out sideways on top of Magnus' belly. Needing a moment to rest, Pit stabilized his breathing before shakily rising to his feet. He panted softly, eyes flickering around before he found his sandals and rapidly put them back on. The familiar feeling that gently squeezed at his calves made Pit smile, toes curling against the leather soles.
Nearly forgetting about Magnus, the angel scampered over to him, watching the war-torn soldier rise to his feet. Looking down at the angel, he pried his sword back into his hands from the ground before chuckling faintly.
“See? I've been more of a help than your goddess.” Palutena's faint snarl echoed within Pit's mind at that comment. It was laughable, but Pit didn't dare to do this; he valued his gift of flight too much to lose it over something silly.
“You didn't have to tickle me though!” Pit retorted, lips pursing into a slight pout before he looked at his feet, still tingling from before.
“It helped though, you can't deny that.” A slight sneer pulled at Magnus' lip before he grew serious, eyes narrowed in a bit to survey the forest. “You're here to get rid of those lowlife monsters too, hm? Well, now you can do that.”
Palutena's minion nodded frantically, eager to finally switch gears back to the task at hand. A bushy brow rose before the mercenary slung his sword back against his shoulder, as if it were nothing. Passing by Pit, Magnus stepped forward as if to lead the way. “What are we waiting for? We've got our work cut out for us, angel face.”
A surge of giddiness pulsed through the angel's body at the invitation and eagerly, he trailed along behind Magnus. Two were better than one, even after before. Besides, Pit's wings were still damaged and without having a dependable escape plan, he would be a fool to deny the warrior's help. Jogging passed him, Pit couldn't help but laugh before taking the lead.
“Try to keep up, old man!”
And before Magnus could subject the angel to another round of torment, Pit dashed off, meandering between the trees to catch up on the mission he had pushed to the side for too long. Try hard, no wonder why Palutena seemed to prioritize him so much.
