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Question: I know most of my fics include carrier Jazz, but I’ve been getting into carrier Prowl lately so for my triple agent au I’m unsure which one to use lol.
Just curious what the overall preference is??
Which do you prefer????? (I’m curious lol)
sire!Prowl/carrier!Jazz
sire!Jazz/carrier!Prowl
something something alien invasion AU where after the destruction of Daibazaal, the Galra conquer Earth as a replacement homeworld. Lance, Hunk, and Pidge grow up on Earth in the aftermath of the Galra invasion. Their families are all members of an underground resistance movement to Galra control, of which Shiro is a part of as well. Keith is also a member...
...on the orders of Emperor Zarkon, who heard that there was a resistance movement brewing. He gave Keith the mission of infiltrating it, taking advantage of his nearly human appearance. But he's also...
...a member of the Blade of Marmora, who seek to overthrow Galra control and return Earth back to its people. He's a triple agent.
Sly4 AU where Penelope is a TRIPLE AGENT.
Thought she was with the Cooper Gang? NOPE IT’S LE PARADOX.
Le Paradox being her boss now? GUESS AGAIN BINCH, SHE WAS WITH INTERPOL THIS WHOLE TIME.
ao3 is currently down from cloudflare (i believe), so no idea when it will be back up! Is anyone else having this issue? Would check on Twitter, but that’s down too!
As an aside, if it is still down when I finish the next Triple Agent chapter, I will post it only on wattpad, rather than ao3 until it is working again!
This is a rough idea of the characters heights for my Triple Agent au, again I have no idea if the heights for the official characters are correct (if they aren’t my OC’s heights are getting changed).
Predaking is purely here to compare heights with Echo! He is not going to be in Triple Agent.
Same as Keiko, she is from another future au of mine (the Outcasts au and Wally West: Speedster Extraordinaire), but she may make an appearance in the future as Pythoria’s human companion!
For perspective, here are their alt modes:
Melody - a beetle or a MX-5 Mazda Miata (undecided)
Pythoria - Lotus Elise
Jazz - Pontiac Solstice
Bumblebee - Chevrolet Camaro
Optimus - Peterbilt 379 semi-truck
Stormflow - Williams V-Jet II
Starscream - Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptor fighter jet
Echo - Predacon (Wyvern)
Predaking (Prime) - Predacon (dragon)
Again I searched the canon characters up so they may be incorrect!
Echo’s height corresponds to my Kin au, though Stormflows does not!
Triple Agent
Pairing(s): OC / OC, Jazz/Prowl, Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet
Master list found here!
Next
Chapter One: The Fall of Praxus
Forging. The stage in carrying where the spark separates from the Carriers and into their forge, where the spark grows a protective mesh called the protoform.
When the spark resides in the forge, the protoform will take on a bean-like shape. This grows until the pain becomes unbearable for the Carrier. It is at this stage that specialised doctors will accompany the new creators to the Well, when the protoform will emerge from the Carriers forge, back into their Spark chamber, then out and into the frame their Creators have built for them. This stage is called Emerging.
The frame is then presented to the Well, where Primus gifts the young spark with intelligence and, most importantly, their name. However, if Primus finds the parents to be undeserving of a sparkling, the spark and protoform will instead return to the Well, ensuring the sparkling is saved from a life of pain and misery. Either outcomes are of the stage called The Scale.
The Scale is something young Creators Tropical Wave and Wicker have been worried of. The thought that Primus may find them undeserving of a second sparkling is unbearable.
The doctors have assured them many of times that it is incredibly rare for Primus to deny the spark a chance of life. It only has been denied when the parents do not truly wish for a sparkling, or may abuse them. However, they still worry they may be an exception.
The worry is especially worse at this time, where Tropical Wave has entered Emergence. Wicker had supported her weight for the majority of the journey, listening intensely to the doctor at what The Scale entails.
When they arrived, Tropical Wave was held in a bridal carry by her Conjunx, Wicker concentrating to make sure he does not accidentally trip and fall. He became distracted, however, when he saw the Well.
For the most part, the Well was a large hole in the ground, leading directly to the centre of Cybertron where Primus resided. Upon it was a platform, stretching for the outer circle of the hole to the centre, with a bassinet where the Sparklings frame would go to await trial.
The bassinet was held by two weights, one set directly on the platforms surface, and the other trailing down deep into the Well. When Primus judges the Sparkling and their Creators, weights will be added to the string going into the Well when points are made against them. If too much weight is on the string, the bassinet will tip and the sparkling will slide out and into the Well, where Primus will meet them and welcome them back.
The Well is completely dark, however as Wicker carries Tropical Wave onto the platform, the doctor trailing behind them with their Sparklings frame, a glow from within the depths grows.
"Place her near the bassinet," instructed the doctor. Wicker did as told, placing his Conjunx down gently beside the Sparkling frame the doctor had placed.
Tropical Wave gripped Wickers servo when he moved to kneel down beside her. "This will be painful, won't it?" She asked. Her face plate was screwed up in discomfort, dermas grinding together.
"At this stage the Protoform will crawl back up to your spark chamber, where it will shock your interiors. When this shock happens, you must open your chest plates. This means the sparkling is ready to come out, and further delay will harm its development," the doctor explained. He moved to kneel beside the limp frame.
"How long until the Emergence happens?" Wicker asked, soothing stroking the back Tropical Waves servo.
The doctor glanced at Tropical Waves frame. "Based on the slight glow seen from Tropical Storms forge, the Protoform is gathering energy to crawl," he explained.
As if it were listening, the Protoform began to move upwards towards its Carriers chassis. It was slow, and by the pained moan Tropical Wave let loose, it was unpleasant as well.
The Protoform swirled around her spark for a while, seeming to be exploring. During this time, the doctor manually opening the chest plates on the frame, readying himself for when the Protoform decides to emerge.
Then, with a sudden jolt, Tropical Wave unlatched and opened her chest plates. The Protoform emerged, slithering down its carriers frame. The doctor held the frame closer to it, and it moved to be inside it.
The frame ended slightly as the Protoform filled out the space within, and the spark sat itself within the frames spark chamber.
The doctor then moved the frame to the bassinet, where it glowed a bright blue. He then knelt beside the bed.
"I summon you, Primus, to come forth and judge the Sparkling I have laid before you. I pray that you bless these two young creators, and bless the Sparkling with a life full of love and happiness," the doctor finished.
Just then, the Well glowed a brighter blue, and blue swirled along the edges of the Sparklings frame. Then, along the string going down towards the Well, a blue light travelled downwards.
"That is just Primus finding downsides in the Sparklings creation. It is incredibly common, as I am sure you know," the doctor explained to the two creators.
A few more blue lights moved down the string, however some moved back up as a sign Primus was in their favour.
Before long, the bassinet started to move, it tipping slightly. The frame inside slid ever so slightly downwards, until settling when the bassinet was laid down once more. This happened a few more times.
"That didn't happen last time," Wicker said, face screwed up in sorry. Beside him, Tropical Wave clutched tightly at his arm, leaving a few dints in his plating.
Tropical Wave turned to look at the doctor, hoping for an explanation, only to find him with a look of fear on his faceplate. When he caught sight of her looking, he smoothed out his expression and sent a reassuring smile her way.
The bassinet then tilted steeper and steeper. The frame moved down towards the well, until it stopped and returned to a flat base. The frame lit up blue, and so did the Well, and then darkness returned once more.
"Primus was just taking longer than normal to make his decision. I should not worry, it happens many of times," the doctor explains at their frazzled faces. But, with the way he himself looks shocked, the two new creators doubt it does.
Pythoria. That was the name given to her when she was forged by the hands of her Creators and the Well. When she was first onlined, red optics online and grey protoform grasped lovingly in their servos. Their optics shone with pride and love.
Tropical Wave and Wicker were their names. Her Carrier and Sire respectively. Tropical Wave was a calming aqua with white accents, optics shining a warm red. Wicker was red, with dark maroon highlighting the dents and joints in his frame, optics a sharp purple.
When Pythoria was driven home along the tides of Cybertron, filled with mechs and femmes bustling about their very day lives, her optics were filled with awe.
When her Carrier transformed, it allowed Pythoria's young mind to see the mechanisms of a transformation for the first time. Something she was able to look forward to.
Her house was quaint, at least that is what the neighbours and her creators would say. Small, with two bedrooms, one for her brother, and one for her Creators. She would soon find she would share with her brother.
Her brother, Breeze, was a sky blue, with arms and legs the colour white, pedes and servos a teal. He was strikingly similar to their Carrier, however he shared the same purple coloured optics as their Sire.
When she was brought home, her brother seemed to feel indifferently towards her. No love, but no hate, no interest but no ignorance. In his life, she was just... there.
However, as she grew, Pythoria's protoform changed into a white frame with red accents and red optics. Like her Carrier, doorwings resided on her back. As her physical form grew, her mental resolve to connect with her brother also strengthened.
At first, her Creators were loving, always caring for both her and her brother. Family trips were a given, travelling to places that made her audibly 'awe'. However, that soon changed when a gladiator by the name Megatron rose, the risk of war hanging delicately in the air.
She had little time with her parents, they tried their best but war and the attempt to remain neutral was taking a toll on them. They argued, fought, even neglected both her and her brother accidentally a few times.
For these times, when their Creators forgot they existed, Breeze would provide her with energon, even rust sticks, her favourite, if he could find some. With her parents bond falling apart, the bond between her and her brother steadily grew.
But her home life would not be the worst thing to happen in her life, which takes the story to present day.
Pythoria was doing her normal routine, which included her eating her rations of the energon in their kitchen whilst her Sire drank the little high-grade they had in the living room, their Carrier laying in their berth. Breeze was beside her, as he always was these days.
"Will they ever be happy again?" Pythoria asked. Her optics were focused on the holovid visible to her in the entrance to the living room from the kitchen., showing a news outlet of the rising mass of the Decepticons.
"Carrier and Sire are still happy, they're just... stressed," Breeze replied, shrugging. He glanced back at their Sire, whose optics flickered as he fought recharge. "They seem to be taking the threat of war seriously."
"So am I but I'm still functioning," Pythoria grumbled, taking a sip of her energon cube. Since the threat of the Decepticons have become worse, the Senate have rationed the amount of energon each household can consume in a deca-cycle, which, arguably, isn't a lot.
"You're not a fully-grown femme yet, you're still a femmeling, you can't take care of yourself yet, Carrier and Sire are probably worried about us," Breeze defended.
"Hey! I only have three stellar-cycles until I'm a youngling! I can understand perfectly," Pythoria said petulantly. Her arms crossed over her chassis, dermas pursed.
"You're still only five-vorns, far too young to be worried about this stupid war," Breeze said.
He moved his arm and laid it over his sister's shoulder, pulling her to his side. The energon within her cube slashed against the side, close to spilling. Pythoria nuzzled into him, sipping at her energon.
A noise came upstairs, the sounds of pedes hitting the floor echoing. A few kliks later, and their Carrier was shown walking down their stairs. Her optics were dulled, the colour in her frame lighter than they remembered. She took a look at Wicker in the living room, shook her head and sighed.
She spotted her creations sat in the kitchen, and moved towards them. Her hand was clenching a datapad, although neither Breeze nor Pythoria could guess why - their carrier was never a reading bot.
Tropical Wave sat down. It was a slow process, her arms shaking as they supported her weight as she slid into the chair. Breeze was about to get up until a look from his Carrier made him sit back down.
Their Carrier took a deep vent. "I know you have noticed that me and your Sire have not been the most... loving parents lately, and have taken up some bad habits along the way," at this she looked at Wicker again. "And at how tired we are."
"It's okay," Pythoria shrugs, still sipping on her Energon cube," we understand you are stressed from the war."
"That is part of the reason, yes, but not all of it," Tropical Wave revealed. She suddenly turned to look unsure, still holding onto the datapad but placing it in front of her. After a moments hesitation, she slid it towards Breeze.
Confused, Breeze picked it up and looked at its contents. At first, he was confused, but soon the small circle of light surrounding its bigger counterpart became recognisable to him. Seeing as he was taking a while, Pythoria snatched it out of his hands to look herself.
"You're sparked?!" The femmeling screeched, eyes flickering from the datapad, then to her carrier. She looked at Breeze, "are you seeing the same thing as me?" She demanded.
"I am," Breeze said lowly. "Carrier, you understand it would be irresponsible to bring a sparkling in at this time, right? Praxus may be neutral currently in this war, but it is still far too dangerous for a sparkling."
"Oh Breeze," Tropical Wave began, a melancholic smile on her faceplate, "when did you get so smart?"
"But brother is right!" Pythoria interjected. "The news is always telling us the dangers of the Decepticons!"
"You really should not be watching the news," Tropical Wave said, looking like she was going to scold her youngest creation, but stopped herself. "But so far, Praxus's government has been adamant that we will not serve in this war, and I have enough hope in my spark to believe them."
"I wish I had the hope you had, Carrier," said Breeze. He stood up then, letting go of Pythoria and moving around the table to hug his Carrier. "But, I am happy for you and Sire, and I can't wait to have another sibling."
Pythoria hastily put her energon cube on the table, moving clumsily to the hug. She joined in with a smile, "me too! I won't be the youngest anymore!" She beemed.
The three hugged one another for a moment longer, then let go. Tropical Wave sighed, taking the datapad from the table and band into her arms.
"I best go hang this somewhere then, now that it is no longer a secret, and tell your Sire he no longer has to keep it hidden," she said. Tropical Wave stood, kissing both her creations on the forehead, walking to the living room to where Wicker was now in recharge.
Breeze turned to look down at Pythoria, opening his mouth to prepare to say something, when a loud bang interrupted him. The force of it shook the whole house, Pythoria grabbing onto her brother to stabilise herself.
A flash came from outside, and then another bang. The noise woke up Wicker, who onlined his optics to see his Conjunx looking fearfully out of the window. Confused, he did the same, and gasped.
Outside, hundreds of seekers were flying over the city, missiles shooting from their frame, destroying buildings and killing mechs. Another explosion happened close to their habstitute, and he quickly pulled Tropical Wave into the Kitchen, spotting his two creations huddling close.
"Get under the table!" He demanded to them, to which they hurriedly complied. With urgency, he pulled Tropical Wave under the table with them. He pulled both his creations under both his and their Carriers frame, shielding them.
"Sire?" Pythoria's meek voice spoke from beneath them. She was huddled close to her Carrier, shaking fearfully. Breeze mirroring the position, this time with their Sire. "What is happening?"
Tropical Wave pulled her closer to her frame, shielding her more. Breeze reached out and held his sisters hand, squeezing it in reassurance despite the fear in his field.
"It's nothing, okay? It will be over soon, I'm sure of it," Wicker reassured his creation. Above both of their helms, Tropical Wave gave her Conjunx a look. In response, he pulled her close to kiss her, savouring the moment.
Both of them knew of the high chance they would not make it out alive.
All of a sudden, a missile stuck the ground besides their home, causing the wall to cave in. Wicker and Tropical Wave held each other and their sparkling closer in response, fearing what would happen next.
The structure damage to the wall caused the building to become weak. When another shot was fired close to them, the explosion caused the building to collapse.
Pythoria felt her Carrier huddling closer to her, until a bright light shot through the gaps in their frames. A shake followed, followed with falling debris, then nothing.
Pythoria slowly onlined her optics, her vision filled with static. Errors showed up in her vision, blaring red against the darkness that she could see.
She felt something cold pressed against her back, contrasting the warmth surrounding her. Her frame then moved, something pulling her against another solid surface. When she managed to clear her vision, she realised it was Breeze.
He looked scared, staring fearfully down at her, as if scared she would run away. Or worse. His servos now moved to her faceplate, holding her helm in place to look at him and him only.
"Just focus on me, okay? It's all going to be alright," he reassured her. His voice came out garbled and staticky.
She attempted to move her helm, but his grip just became tighter. In frustration, she weekly pinched a piece of his Protoform, causing him to yelp and let go.
Quickly, whilst she had the chance, she looked behind her to see what was making her cold. Looking right at her was her Carriers dimmed optics, her frame greyed and charred. In a panic, she turned to look at her Sire, only to find him in the same state.
Her faceplate was grabbed once again, this time harsher and more in a panic.
"I told you not to look!" Breeze said, moving his thumbs to wipe at her cheek. It was only then she realised coolant was flowing down her faceplate. She felt numb. She coughed. "Close your vents," her brother instructed.
She did so, the action feeling strange, but it meant she was no longer coughing.
"We need to move," Breeze said to her. He moved out from underneath their Sires frame, out into what remained of the kitchen. He held out a servo. "C'mon, it's dangerous here," he encouraged.
Pythoria glanced at him, the terror at being moved away from her Carrier clawing at her spark. She shook her head frantically, turning to cuddle into her Carriers cold chest plate.
Breeze froze at the action, servo stuck in mid-air. He then shook out of his stupor and reached out further.
"Carriers gone, Py," he said to his sister. "So is Sire, okay? But I'm here, and I promise to keep you safe."
Pythoria looked at his servo, then at their Carrier. Breeze pleaded once more, moving his servo closer. Pythoria made a decision, reaching out to grab his servo. In relief, Breeze pulled her out from their Carriers protection and into his arms, rocking her to soothe her.
Suddenly, movement came from outside of the rubble. In fear and protective instincts, Breeze held a tighter grip on Pythoria.
Muffled voices came from outside.
"...this is the right one?"
"...Megatron demanded..."
"...can we blow up...house..."
"...should be dead..."
Then, a piece of rubble was moved aside, revealing three mechs.
"I still think the scanner lied," one of the mechs said. Pythoria couldn't see them all clearly, but this one looked to be mainly red and blue.
"C'mon, 'Screamer, when have those things ever failed us? Besides, if there are survivors, we get the pleasure of taking them offline personally!" Another mech said. This one looked to be mainly purple and black in colour.
"You mean I get to take them offline," said the red and blue one.
The two began bickering, but Pythoria saw the one that was blue and grey move further into the rubble, ignoring his companions. He seemed to be searching for something, until he stopped, staring right at them.
Breeze tightened his hold on Pythoria, glaring at the Seeker that was now approaching the two siblings. The other seekers, realising their third was gone, stopped their bickering and spotted them as well.
The red and blue one barged past the purple one, and pushed aside the blue one. He stopped in front of the two younglings, then kneeled down.
"Why aren't you dead?" He asked. A sneer was placed upon his face. "Well, I can't in good conscience kill a couple of younglings, at least without orders," he smirked.
Breeze and Pythoria trembled in fear. The red and blue seeker moved a servo to the side of his helm, and a beep echoed amongst the roaring flames.
"Lord Megatron, we have a situation," the Seeker began. He flinched from whatever answer he heard, then replied. "Two youngling were found in the rubble, should I terminate?"
During this time, the purple seeker had also moved closer to the sibling. A servo reached out to poke Breeze in the helm, to which he snapped at him.
The seeker recalled the servo with a quiet chuckle, 'fiesty', he mouthed. The blue seeker, who had moved closer silently, smacked him beside his helm.
"What!" The red and blue seeker screeched. "You can't possibly-?!" He then flinched. He stopped to listen. "Yes, of course Lord Megatron." He them removed his servo from beside his helm.
"Lord Megatron has demanded we take you back to him," the seeker said. "I don't understand why, exactly, I would rather leave you here to burn."
Despite his words, the purple seeker moved and grabbed Breeze, pulling him up to a stand. Pythoria was let down to stand, but she never let go of him.
It was only now that they were standing that the siblings spotting the purple symbol on the three seekers wings.
The Decepticon logo.
Triple Agent AU *HIATUS*
master list ✨
Pairing(s): OC / OC, Jazz/Prowl, Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet
Fandom(s): Transformers (Bay Movies)
Summary: Pythoria was born on Cybertron. For all of her life, all she has known was war. Her creators attempted to keep her and her brother from the war, remaining neutrals. However, decepticons raided and killed her parents, taking Pythoria and her brother. From then on, she became a Decepticon, but was she ever really loyal to Megatron?
Also on ao3 and wattpad!
Search up #triple agent au on my profile for more info!
Check out more of my works here!
Chapters:
Chapter One: The Fall of Praxus
Chapter Two: Decepticons… Good?
Chapter Three: Of Tours and Talks
Chapter Four: Dreams of Future Cycles
They've heard rumors about the half-human, of course.
It's not like it's completely unheard of. The Galra have ruled Earth for quite some time now. Of course there would be some intermingling. What stands out about this one, however, is that they're apparently indistinguishable from a human, yet despite that, they're allied with the Galra Empire. Their mother is of a high rank within the Empire, and they're as loyal to Zarkon as they come. They say he fights with the same ferocity as the rest of the Galra.
Their name, apparently, is Yorak.
Matt hears more rumors about him from the other prisoners after he and his dad are taken by the Galra. He hears someone refer to him as 'Zarkon's dog', spitting as they say it. He can't exactly blame them. It's hard to imagine someone who looks almost human siding with the Empire against them. If you have a win streak for long enough in the arena, eventually you'll be sent up against him.
No one's beaten him yet.
Well. That's got nothing to do with him. He's in a work camp, thank god. Even with the rebels, he wasn't exactly a fighter. A thinker, really. He doesn't expect he'll ever cross paths with Yorak... until he does.
And he recognizes him.
That's Akira.
...suddenly, it makes a lot more sense how easily he and his father were captured.
