May the words flow from my heart to my fingers

My Writer's Blog, will post fics, some original writing, some prompts, and other writing advice here. -- Writes for: The Cat Returns, Dragon Age, Game of Thrones, Harry Potter, Mass Effect, Strange Magic, Transformers

[heartsandsparksshipweek]

It's time for a week of adventure!

Prompts:

Day 1: Rain / Lonely

Day 2: Pet / Flowers

Day 3: Skating / Jealousy

Day 4: Mermaid AU/Monster AU

Day 5: Kiss / Forest

Day 6: Tension / Music

Day 7 Holiday / Alternate Universe

For this summer event, we're doing a little something different: human/organic OCs and self-inserts are welcome along with canon characters! Link to Q & A here (minus the canon rule).

(Panel is from Marvel UK Transformers issue #74)

[headspace-hotel]

useful/fun character development questions for couples

there are a lot of “otp questions” lists out there but I just wanted to make a list that was specifically helpful for writers, especially for working out the technical stuff of conveying Romantic Love. so, here ya go, stuff to answer for each character

What, specifically, was the catalyst for their physical attraction (if applicable) to the other character? In other words, what in particular had them like “Oh, they’re...hot...”

Does this change over time? What things do they find “hot” about their partner after they’ve been together for some time, and have had more time to, well, notice and appreciate?

By contrast, what was the moment that first made their ~heart~ Soft for the other person? Not necessarily a conscious realization of “I love this person,” but a moment that had them like “Oh...I adore them...”

Does this change over time? What will always reliably make them melt with how much they adore the other character?

How do they consciously realize that they like the other character? Does it take them a while?

How do they react to the realization that they like the other character? Is it an “oh my god I’m never going to think about this again” thing, or are they pretty comfortable with it?

Do they (or would they) pursue the other character’s affection, and if so, how? Do they tell the other character how they feel? Try to earn their admiration? Woo them with romantic gestures? Flirt with them, skillfully or otherwise?

What do they think about romantic love? Do they have baggage surrounding it? Do they idealize it? Is it an object of longing and wanting, or were they really not thinking about it until they started falling for the other character? What are their expectations like?

What do they think about commitment? Is a long-term partnership the goal? Are they thinking about building a life with their partner, or are they focused on the present?

What scares them about entering a relationship?

What fears, past traumas, etc. would be hardest for them to talk about with their partner?

How much independence do they prefer in a relationship—do they want to share their lives as much as possible with their partner, or do they prefer to mostly do their own thing and let their partner do their own thing?

What is their go-to for making a partner feel loved?

What makes them feel loved? Would they build up the courage to ask for it?

What, for them, constitutes a level of intimacy that they would only rarely share with someone? This can be physical, emotional, etc.

If they had the ability to just spend free time with their partner, what would they do? Would they go out or stay inside?

Under what circumstances would they want to be left alone by their partner?

They’re going through something incredibly difficult—perhaps they’re very sick, have lost a loved one, or have gone through a traumatic event. Do they ask for or accept support and care from their partner, or try to isolate themselves?

Are they okay with public displays of affection? Do they like them?

When would they say “I love you?” Do they say it first? Do they say it often, or is it reserved for special moments?

If sex is something that would be part of a relationship for them, do both or either of them have prior experiences? If not, how do they feel about it?

What does sex mean for them? Socially, religiously, what attitudes are they bringing with them? Is “virginity” something they care about? Do they want sexual experiences to occur within a certain “level” of relationship, or does that not really matter so much to them?

How comfortable are they talking about, and openly communicating during, sex?

What would their partner do that would really turn them on, perhaps unintentionally?

They accidentally hurt or upset their partner. What happened? How do they respond? What do they do to make their partner feel better?

They have an argument with their partner—what is it about? Do things stay respectful, or is there some shouting and accusing going on?

They have to apologize to their partner. Is this difficult for them? How do they approach it?

How do they feel about the prospect of parenthood? Do they plan on it? How would they react if they suddenly found out they were going to be a parent?

What compromises are they making in their relationship?

What completely petty topic (music taste, favorite food) do they find themselves completely at odds with their partner about?

What little thing do they find incredibly (though harmlessly) annoying about their partner?

How do their friends react to finding out they’re a couple? Do they have lots of mutual friends? Did their friends know, perhaps before they themselves did?

Under what circumstances would they feel jealous?

Under what circumstances would they feel protective?

Would they get a pet? What kind? Who brings up the idea, and who takes a little longer to convince?

[shadesfalcon]

send an ask: get to know your author

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

4) favorite character you’ve written

5) character you were most surprised to end up writing

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

8) favorite genre to write

9) what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

12) your weaknesses as an author

13) your strengths as an author

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?

15) why did you start writing?

16) are there any characters who haunt you?

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?

22) are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

[jeeno2]

Let’s play a game:

Leave the first sentence of a fic in my Ask box

and I will write the next five.  :)

[queerbookcorner]

Pride Books! Feel free to use as icons with credit. (Available as buttons here!)

[obae-me]

I keep seeing people on social media complain about all these readers on ao3 suddenly complaining about fics not being finished and TAKING their fics and saying they'll finish them. Oh my god, that is terrifying. Obey Me, Fandom, DON'T DO THIS. ANY Fandom DON'T DO THIS.

[writing-ro]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63481114/chapters/162664648

Rating: E Fandom: Transformers Prime Relationship: June Darby/Optimus Prime/Ratchet Characters: June Darby, Optimus Prime, Ratchet Additional Tags: Threesomes, Xeno, Sexual Fantasy, Love Confessions, Cunnilingus, Blow Jobs, Riding, Sticky Sexual Interfacing (Transformers) Also On: FFN

Summary: June Darby makes an unexpected discovery when visiting the near-empty Autobot base.

~

All was quiet in the Autobots’ base, as June finished stocking up the kitchen. The kids and their guardians were all out, and she hadn’t actually seen or heard anything from Optimus or Ratchet since she’d arrived with the grocery haul. Satisfied that the kids wouldn’t be starving when they spent whole days at the base, she walked back out into the atrium, intending to head straight to her car. 

A loud clang made her jump, and she turned towards the medbay, where it had come from. Quickly, she ran over to see if something had fallen or someone was hurt. 

What she saw made her stop in her tracks, legs locking in place as her eyes widened. 

Optimus was leaning over Ratchet, who was sitting on one of the medberths, kissing him. Their eyes were closed, their mouths pressed hard together, and their engines revving. Ratchet’s hands clutched Optimus’s waist and shoulder, while Optimus had his on Ratchet’s back and thigh. As she watched, Optimus’s hands shifted, from Ratchet’s back to the berth and lifting his leg up to press closer. It was so hot, June couldn’t help the small moan she released, her hand flying up to her mouth just too late. 

[Read More on AO3]

[ao3commentoftheday]

Do people get annoyed when i write about one thing only. Like i get that there are some that love more fics of this one thing, but i don't know I'm just obsessed right now and i don't know if i start to write about something else if the people who liked me when i wrote about one thing would leave

Don’t think of your readership as one single mass of people who read everything you write. That’s not the case. There are some people who might read all of your stuff, but more likely people just click on your story based on the title/tags/summary without actually noticing that it’s you. They just like the thing. If you write a different thing, you’ll get different people who click in because they like the thing. 

Write what moves you. Write what you’re obsessed with. Write what makes you laugh or makes you cry or makes you think. Write whatever the hell you want to write and the people who want to read it will find it. It’ll be okay 💖

[icouldwritebooks]

As a reader, there are certain themes that I love and want nothing more than to read over and over again with slight variations. If I found a writer who wrote a lot of stuff with those themes, I’d feel like I’d hit the jackpot.

I keep that in mind with my own writing, as well. Most of my stuff is hurt/comfort. It’s formulaic and easy to write. I like writing it. Some readers might not want to read 20 hurt/comfort stories. That’s fine. My stuff is labeled and easy to avoid if it gets to be Too Much. If there is somebody out there who likes my preferred genre and characters, and enjoys my writing style— Good news! I’m prolific!

Using the potluck analogy that is so often applied to fan fiction, if somebody rolls up to the party with nine-hundred chocolate chip cookies, some people might skip them all together, because cookies aren’t their thing. Other people might eat one or two, then need something else. Somebody else might be enamored with chocolate and chips, and eat 20 of them. The point is that the cookies are there, for people to enjoy or not enjoy as they choose.

[writing-ro]

Very much this!

Back when I was a baby fic reader, I had a Harry Potter author I followed specifically cause all of her fics involved Harry and Snape in a father-son or mentor-mentee relationship (minus one series where Snape had a daughter with her own adventures). They were my faves and I loved all of them.

[crazyfanatic97]

Probably Bad Writing Prompt Idea:

You're part of an archeology team excavating dome ancient ruins and have discovered that another member of the dig team is actually an immortal. Not only that, they lived in the place being unburied. After a while, curiosity gets the better of you, so you corner them and ask the big question about why they're here.

It's then you learn they lost something with the equivalent modern significance of a pen and they just REALLY want it back.

[writing-ro]

Midnight Swim [Hearts & Sparks Week Day 3]

Rating: G Fandom: Transformers Prime Relationships: June Darby/Optimus Prime Characters: June Darby, Optimus Prime Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Confessions, Swimming Pools, Established Relationship, Merformers Also on: AO3, FFN

My fill for @heartsandsparksshipweek Day 3: Mermaid AU

~~~

Meet me at the community pool at midnight, I have something to show you.

That was what the email had said, which was the flag raised for June. Orion wasn’t one to send cryptic messages like that, and he usually called when he wanted to make plans. Said plans usually started at one of their apartments, so they could ride out together instead of meeting at the venue. Also, they had never, ever gone swimming together, and the community pool closed at six, so why did he want to meet there, of all places? 

She’d hopefully have her questions answered, as she pulled up to the pool. The whole block was deserted, the only car she could see being Orion’s truck, parked under the lamppost with the broken bulb. She parked next to him, and they climbed out at the same time. 

“Hello, June,” he said, walking over to her. He looked how he should for a pool or beach date, blue swim trunks, flip flops, and a t-shirt under a red jacket, his long black hair tied back. They matched well with June’s own green t-shirt and blue jeans, which she wore over her yellow bikini and sandals. But while he smiled upon seeing her, it didn’t fully reach his eyes, and he was tense, his shoulders up and tight. 

“Is something wrong,” she asked in lieu of greeting him back, her hand reaching for his. 

Just that contact seemed to calm him, his shoulders dropping and he took a deep breath. “Nothing is wrong, per say. Just nerves.”

“Over finally showing me your swimming skills?” she tried to tease. Orion just gave her an awkward chuckle.

“Something like that.” He pulled her to the gate to the pool, where the lock had already been popped open. “I borrowed a key,” he explained before she could ask. “We’ll lock up again when we’re done.” 

The pool itself wasn’t too special, an L shape with a wading area at the top, a slide at the corner, and diving boards on the short deep end. A large sandbox sat in the bend of the L, with beach chairs around it and the other edges of the pool. A couple of picnic tables scattered about and a small concession stand and of course the lifeguard chairs. 

“We really couldn’t come here during the day?” June tried teasing Orion again as he walked them to the deep end, but he just turned towards her, taking of her hands in his. 

“June, please listen to what I have to tell you without interrupting. I don’t think I’ll be able to say it unless it’s all at once.”

June’s worry and curiosity piqued at that, but she nodded her acceptance. Orion took a deep breath before speaking. 

“I have been keeping a secret from you, and all our friends. It has never been a dangerous one, at least to anyone but myself, but if the wrong person were to learn it, I would not be the only one to suffer for it.”

What kind of secret could it be? He couldn’t be some kind of undercover operative, or agent for a secret organization, was he?

“Orion Paxton is not the name I was given at birth, but rather the name I took on when I came to land, to better blend in with the populace, and to hide from any who might be looking for me.”

A fake name to blend in? Undercover operative was looking more likely-

“My real name is Optimus Prime, Thirteenth Prince of Atlantis. I am a merman.”

… What?

She couldn’t help the burst of laughter that came from her. “You’re- You’re what?”

“I am a merman, June. That’s why I brought you here, to show you.”

“A-” June shook her head. “Orion, you can’t expect me to just believe you.”

“I know.” He pulled away from her. “That’s why we’re here.” He took off his jacket and tossed it over a chair while kicking off his flip flops. It was quickly followed by his shirt, then his hands hooked into the waist of his shorts, and June choked and spun around. 

“Orion, we’re in public!” Her cheeks burned from the blush she knew was crossing them.”

“Why do you think I asked you here so late?” There was a hint of a chuckle in his voice, which was better than the serious tone he’d had before. 

“You couldn’t have done this at home, in the bathtub?” The thought occurred to her. “We’ve taken baths and showers together, shouldn’t your merman magic have changed you then?”

“It doesn’t work exactly like that,” Orion said. “If just getting wet was the requirement, I’d be a complete hermit on rainy days.” His hand touched her elbow. “Please turn around, June. It’ll be easier to believe if you actually see.” 

She took a deep breath of her own, willing her blush to calm, and turned around. She didn’t look down, but she could see his shorts tossed on top of his other clothes. “Alright. Show me.” 

Orion smiled at her, that sweet, shy one that made her fall in love all over again. He took her hand and walked to the edge of the pool. He dropped her hand and, without another word, jumped into the water. 

At first, nothing happened, just Orion treading water in the pool, and June started to feel a bit silly about the whole thing. Then the changes started. A shimmering ran over his body, and his movements shifted, his kicks becoming an undulation as his legs stuck and merged together, before lengthening, his feet turning into fins. More fins grew from his legs - his tail! - and on his lower back and arms, and scales started covering his body. They were tri colored, mostly red on the back of his body and blue on the front, with a silver dapple pattern over the red. Orion dove and twisted completely under the water, and when he popped up again, the scales has crept to the edges of his face, and his ears had turned pointed with practically no lobe. 

He swam to the edge of the pool in front of June, who only then realized she’d fallen to her knees. His shy smile returned, giving her a glimpse of pointed teeth, more than a human had. “A bit of a shock, I know.” 

June huffed a laugh. “A bit, yeah.” She reached out, but paused, unsure if she should touch him. 

“You can touch, it’s safe.” He held his arm to her, and she could see his nails had sharpened, more like claws, and darkened to black. She took his arm, and the scales felt similar to the time she got to pet a stingray at a zoo, smooth one way and slightly rough going the other. She traced the top edge of the fin rising from the back of his arm, and pulled back when he shivered. 

“So… a merman.” 

Orion nodded. “Yes.”

“A merman… prince. Of Atlantis.” 

“Yes.” 

There were so many questions she could ask him, but really there was only one that was necessary.

“Why are you here, in Nevada of all places?”

Orion looked down, his tail flicking in the water under him. “I ran away, and this was the safest place I could think to go.”

That second part made some sense to June - landlocked desert Nevada would be the last place someone would expect to find a mermaid, outside Vegas - but the first just grew her curiosity. “Why did you run?”

“It’s a bit of a long story.”

“We’ve got time.” With that thought, June stood up and slipped out of her sandals and jeans, tossing them on top of Orion’s clothes. She pulled the smaller of the towels she’d brought, folded it, and laid it on the ground next to the pool edge. She sat down, her legs dangling in the water. 

“Tell me what drives a merman to leave the sea for land.”

And Orion did, telling her of being the youngest child of thirteen siblings, each gifted in some talent or skill, and then himself, who was never quite as good as them. Never the best fighter, never the best crafter or scholar. Just the youngest, the surprise fry brought up in their shadows. The only thing that made him stand out was his interest in the human world. 

“Prima had taken the throne by this time, and openly disapproved of any contact between humans and mer. He even discouraged the collection of materials from shipwrecks, even when they are useful or needed. When he'd found out I was collecting human trinkets and storing them away, he wasn't happy and banned me from the expeditions.”

“You know, this is sounding very familiar,” June teased, and Orion chuckled. 

“I assure you, I was nowhere near the Disney studios as that movie was being made. I actually didn't come up to land until ‘91, and as you can see”- he gestured to himself -”there were some things they got wrong.” 

“So you didn't make a deal with a sea witch to get legs?”

“No, after my restriction, I went to help my brother Alpha in the library, just for something to do. In one of the archives, I found a spell to allow me to switch between mer and human. It honestly wasn't that complicated, a simple chant and a very minor blood sacrifice from the subject. The problem was the spell initially locks you in human form for a moon cycle, so I couldn't just cast it in Atlantis. As well, the power required to make the spell reversible at will was beyond my own magic reserves, meaning I'd either need to make it a spell circle, or steal one of my family's magical artifacts to power it.”

June instantly knew which he had chosen. “The painted conch shell you keep in that glass case.”

Orion nodded. “It was part of a tribute being sent to Megatronus and Solus, who had established their own kingdom in the south pacific. Alpha convinced Prima I should be part of the convoy, and partway there, I managed to break into the transport, steal the conch, and fled.

“I performed the ritual and washed up on Daytona Beach, in front of a rental house. Luckily, Jazz was perfectly willing to not only keep my secret, but also help me acclimate to being a human, and took me back with him to Atlanta when his vacation ended. Once I had gotten my bearings, and we got my paper work sorted out, he suggested I move further west and inland, so there’d be even less of a chance for Prima and the others to find me.” He shrugged. “So, Nevada.”

“So that’s how you and Jazz became friends.” She’d met the man a few times, when he came to visit Orion. She’d always assumed Jazz’s claim that he found Orion face down on his lawn was referring to a wild party of some kind, but it never quite clicked with what she knew of Orion, whose preferred night out was to dinner and a show or museum. “Is he the only one who knows?”

“His partner Paul, we met him when he caught us swimming in a river, and Richard learned after I got sick and lost control of my shift briefly. And now you.” Orion looked up at her, rising a little out of the water so he was closer. 

“And now me. Why?”

“Because I love you.” He took her hands in his, his eyes shining with love, affection, and sincerity. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. My whole life, not a half one.”

She didn’t know why that brought tears to her eyes, but really, there was only one way to respond to an answer like that. She leaned in and kissed him, soft at first, then harder as she adjusted to the new texture of his lips. It was different, smoother than his arms, but definitely scaled, and yet just as sweet and tender as usual. She ran the tip of her tongue against the seam of his lips, and he opened easily, letting her explore his mouth as her hands reached up to hold his face as she deepened the kiss. 

His new fangs sent a thrill down her spine, and she pressed closer, assisted by Orion’s hands moving to her hips. So close, in fact, she slipped off the edge and right into the pool. 

She yelped and grabbed Orion’s shoulders as the water splashed over her, before breaking into a laugh that he echoed. What a sight they must have made, a woman and a merman, giggling like idiots in a public pool in the middle of the night. 

“I love you too, Orion,” she said once she finally got control of herself, kicking to keep afloat, even if she was certain Orion would be able to hold her up if needed. “Human or merman, I want you, now and always.” 

Orion’s arms on her tightened slightly, and he smiled before leaning down to rest his forehead on hers. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.” 

She smiled back, then pushed away from him, swimming towards the middle of the pool. “Why don’t you show me what you can do with that tail, Mr. Prince of Atlantis.” 

Orion grinned at her. “Plenty and more, Miss Nurse of Nevada.” He lunged for her and she laughed as she darted away. The chase that ensued was full of splashing and laughter, and when Orion did catch her, she got to learn just how romantic kissing underwater could be. 

~~~

This was a fun one to write. BF and I have had the vague ideas of a Mermaid AU where OP left the ocean for land, but then the merkingdom decides to drag his and June's children back to the ocean, so this was a nice opportunity to set up that world. IDK when, if ever, I'll write that fic with the kids, so for now, just enjoy this.

[ao3org]

AO3 will be down for about 15 hours starting at 08:00 UTC on January 21 (what time is that for me?) while we make some improvements to searching bookmarks and series, including:

adding the ability to search, filter, and sort bookmarks by word count

making sure bookmark search results are correct when you use tags containing letters and numbers

preventing series blurbs from listing tags that were only used on draft works

preventing series blurbs from listing tags used on restricted works for guests

updating series bookmark search so it only searches the tags on works you can access

Please follow our status page for updates.

[writing-ro]

From One Stage to Another [Secret Solenoid 2025]

Happy Solenoid, @cavycaptain! I was your gifter this year, and I hope you love your gift. It took me a bit to find the plot thread I wanted to pull, but you were very right that the old man should be happy, and I think I fulfilled that.

Thanks to @secretsolenoid-revived for hosting this year, I hope to be back for 2026!

Rating: G Fandom: Transformers Prime Relationships: Dreadwing & Skyquake, Dreadwing & Knockout, Dreadwing & Autobots Characters: Dreadwing, Skyquake, Knockout, Wheeljack, Arcee Additional Tags: Post-Predacons Rising (Prime Movie), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Reincarnation, Hot Spots, Sparks, (( based on that one AU where the sparks of dead characters were hanging around the post-PR crew )), (( Don't ask how Dreadwing's here I gave up on figuring out the details of that )) Also on: AO3, FFN

~

Dreadwing looked out over the edge of the flight deck, surveying the area around the Well of AllSparks as Hadean rose over the horizon. His daily ritual, to watch the sun rise over their reborn world, and center himself in peace before he started his day. He was not the only mecha to do such a thing, but he was the only one to come up onto the flight deck. 

Almost the only one, he corrected himself as he felt the brush of an EM field before the bump against his elbow. 

He looked down at the green spark nudging him, the faint traces of blue flickering within confirming more than the slight tugging on his own spark just who this was. 

“Morning, brother,” he said. 

Skyquake nudged him once more, before flitting up to settle on the rim of his energon cube. 

“You can’t even drink it, yet you still insist on trying to steal my ration.” A smile belayed his irritated tone. To see the traces of his brother’s personality still in his spark always lifted his spirits. Never fully erasing the pain of the loss, but knowing that a piece of him still lived on, even after his death, soothed it. 

Skyquake sat on the cube until Hadean fully cleared the horizon, only moving when Dreadwing took a sip, and always settling back onto it when it was lowered again. Once it was drained, the spark slipped to sit in the cube itself, resting in a half-floating position that defied conventional physics. 

Dreadwing just smiled at his brother, and carried him back inside. He’d deposit the cube next to the mess recycling receptacle, and Skyquake would decide if he wished to follow him for the day or not. 

As he walked, the ship started to come alive around him (thankfully not literally, once was more than enough). Vehicons left their quarters to get their rations, but as opposed to the polite but brief greetings he would get before, when he was Megatron’s Second, they were either much more energetic and casual, or just ignored him completed. Which he did not mind, even if it was the reason he usually got his cube so early. Occasionally, he’d see another spark floating next to some mech’s shoulders, or resting like Skyquake in a servo. 

“Morning, Air Commander.” An eradicon, Steph by name, fell into step with him. “Morning, Skyquake.” 

Skyquake bobbled slightly at the acknowledgement, but didn’t rise from the cube like he sometimes did. 

“Good morning,” Dreadwing answered her, subtly observing her to better secure her identity in his processor. She was one of the vehicons who, now free of Decepticon regulations, had altered her colors, yellow and red stripes cutting across her purple and black. She had stepped up to become something of a lieutenant to him in the past few orns. 

“Switchgear sent me the duty shift, if you’d like it now instead of having to walk all the way to the bridge.” 

“Thank you.” Dreadwing had no quarrel with the new Head of Logistics, but the vehicon always had an air of melancholy around him these days, which even his closest companions like Steph found draining. Dreadwing himself had only just recently risen from his own, and would prefer not lingering in someone else’s. “Did you have a good evening?”

“An entertaining one at least. Steve is still moping, so Tony got the smart idea to challenge him to a race down one of the streets not fully cleared yet. He accepted, the idiot, and…”

Completely unintentionally, Dreadwing ended up thinking back on how this new status quo came to be. 

Most of them called it peace. He would not until he knew that word of the War’s end had spread to all Autobots and Decepticons and that they’d all laid down their weapons. Without Soundwave, that message would be slow to get out. Perhaps that was their Lord’s, former Lord’s, mission now, going to his generals and telling them to stand down. He knew Ultra Magnus was broadcasting the same message on Autobot channels at least once daily, usually more. 

After Megatron’s disbanding, and Optimus’s sacrifice, the Autobots had seemed almost at a loss of what to do next. Despite himself, Dreadwing found himself slipping back into a command role, organizing the vehicons into suitable roles and units. It wasn’t a perfect system, several changes had been made since then, but it was enough that Cybertron’s restoration could go on, even as the Autobots mourned the Prime’s passing. In thanks, Magnus officially instated him as the new Air Commander of their flying forces. 

The work was slow, with the little that had been started in Iacon impractical to continue with the Nemesis now forever grounded. So they shifted their focus to Tyger Pax, the city which surrounded the Well. Bulkhead led the physical restoration, his former work as a construction worker making him the most suited. Knockout was back to ruling the medbay, Ratchet having to return to Earth as the cybertronian liaison to their human allies. Switchgear, Soundwave’s former right hand and lover, took over managing logistics, while communications had no real head, just rotating shift leads who reported to Magnus. Magnus himself held command over all scouting operations, but had divided them into divisions led by the remaining Autobots. All the eradicons, of course, fell under Dreadwing’s own command. 

These memories carried him through the ship and Steph’s story until they reached the mess hall. Steph headed to the dispensers to get her own cube, while Dreadwing went to the recyclers and set Skyquake and his cube down. 

Unlike usual, Skyquake did not rise out and settle himself on Dreadwing’s shoulder, or dash off to wherever he liked to be during the day. He just stayed in the cube, settling down even more than before, so the most solid part of his being actually rested on the base of the cube. 

Dreadwing raised a brow at the behavior, but just reached in to pet the edge of his corona. “I’ll see you later, brother.” He turned and left the mess, hiding a smirk at the sudden yelps and laughs from a table of vehicons as they got suddenly divebombed by a particularly active spark. 

The sparks were another new aspect of Cybertron they were adjusting to, though most seemed to have taken them in stride. They’d erupted from the Well after Optimus’s sacrifice, and they thought it was just a sign of life returning to the planet. Then, while most of the sparks eventually returned to the core, a large number remained on the surface, and they’d eventually realized these weren’t just random sparks. 

Arcee had been the one to figure it out, when two sparks had been insistent on staying as close to her as possible, and it eventually clicked that they were Tailgate and Cliffjumper, her old partners slain in the War. After that, everyone started paying more attention, and while not the reunions many would have wanted, most of them took comfort in their comrades and loved ones returning in this way. No one knew how long this would last, and they were making the most of it. 

He opened the duty roster, and found it was a typical day: three flying patrols to be sent out, north, east and south, recon and salvage runs. Nothing new or out of the ordinary, so he closed the roster and headed to his quarters gather his weapons. 

~

Joors later, Dreadwing and his squad returned from their patrol. They’d had quite the stroke of luck, discovering an old Autobot cache that still held usable energon, weaponry and most importantly, medical supplies. They couldn’t bring it all back at once, so Dreadwing ordered the medical supplies gathered first, and marked the location so another team could come back for the rest. Upon their return, he led the team down to the medbay to deliver the supplies. 

Upon entering, Daisy was the medic in the main area, Breakdown flying from her to the squad as she looked them over. “Any injuries?”

“No, but we discovered a cache of medical supplies, and I felt it prudent to deliver them as soon as possible. 

“Thank you. Just place them in the front of the storage room for now, we’ll sort through them later. Dreadwing, Knockout needs to speak to you about something in the operating room.” 

Dreadwing nodded his ascent, but curiosity sparked in his processor. As far as he was aware, his last medical check hadn’t flagged any errors, and he’d not been injured in the time since. 

After the supplies were placed, carefully so as to not be damaged, Dreadwing went into the operating room. No bot lay on the medical slab, but he spotted Knockout tinkering with something on a tool cart, the spark stabilizer connected to the top of it. 

“Knockout?”

Knockout jumped and turned, revealing the device he was working on. A glass container with an energon diffuser from the decontamination pod on the bottom, and inside, Skyquake’s spark. 

“What are you doing!?” Dreadwing stalked forward, and Knockout held both servos up in surrender. 

“With luck, saving your brother’s spark!” he cried out, and continued when Dreadwing froze in shock. “Some vehicons carried him in a couple joors ago. He was guttering, fading out. I only got him stabilized maybe thirty klicks ago.” 

Dreadwing looked at his brother, and found him much like he’d been that morning, lethargically sitting towards the bottom of the container. He placed a servo gently on the glass. “How did this happen?”

“I can’t be sure but…” Knockout hesitated a moment. “I think it’s because of your split spark. None of the other sparks we’ve seen have come even close to fading out, but his has always been a bit dimmer than the others. I’ll do my best to keep him online, but you might need to consider helping him return to the Well.”

Dreadwing’s helm snapped to Knockout. “We are not killing my brother.”

“He’s already dead, Dreadwing. This… phenomenon is not a true revival or second life. At best, it’s a moment of comfort before we have to move on with our lives. Yours just might be shorter than the rest of ours. We also don’t know what will happen if a free-floating spark dissipates. Maybe they’ll return to the Well like when extinguished in a frame, or maybe they’re forever lost, and you won’t reunite ever, in your existence.” 

Dreadwing turned back to Skyquake. He’d only barely shifted towards his servo, and was dimmer than he usually was, which had been dimmer than the other sparks, as Knockout had said. His spark ached to see it, and also ached to think of losing him, either for now or for ever. 

“How long will the stabilizer last?” 

“I have no idea, but provided we don’t have any emergencies that require its usage, an orn is my best guess.” 

An orn. Thirteen days to decide his brother’s fate. “Please keep him stable as long as you can. I-” A short, deep vent, as his spark twisted in his chassis. “I need to think.” 

“Yes, Commander.” Knockout flapped a servo at him. “I’ll need to make a couple last adjustments to the device, and I can’t do that with you in the way.” 

Dreadwing nodded his understanding, but still took a klick to finally draw his servo away and leave the operating room. Breakdown flitted over to him, bumping his shoulder. Dreadwing’s lips curled slightly at the attempted comfort from the officer he’d known the least, and nodded his thanks and goodbye as he left. 

~

The next few days, Dreadwing mulled over Skyquake. He’d not said anything, and he doubted Daisy or Knockout did either, but word had still spread. No one said anything directly, but it showed in their actions. Steph and a couple others taking care of air command minutiae so he didn’t have to. A vehicon letting him cut the line at the dispenser so he could get his ration sooner. Magnus telling him bereavement leave would be granted the moment he asked. The looks most everyone gave him, even if they were kind enough to not whisper when they knew he was in audial range. 

Truly, there wasn’t much to think about. He could either return Skyquake to the Well now, let him go sooner, or cling to him as long as possible, but risk him disappearing all together. It should really be an easy choice to make, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t give up his twin. 

It grated painfully that the only other mecha on the planet who could understand what he was feeling was Starscream, who had lost his trinemates long ago. He was not going to even think of approaching the other Seeker for advice, when he was the reason Skyquake was only a spark now. 

It had been suggested, back when they first learned who the sparks were, to try and place one in their frame, to see if they’d reintegrate, but there were non suitable. Vehicon cadavers were scrapped for parts as soon as death was confirmed. Breakdown’s frame had been smelted after the disaster with the Dark-Synth Energon formula. Cliffjumper was buried under a literal mountain of rubble, even aside the damage sustained before and after death. Skyquake’s frame was mostly intact, but aside from being trapped in the Shadowzone, it had been infected with Dark Energon, and he was not going to let his brother become what Megatron had. 

These thoughts consumed his datatracks, every spare moment turning them over, reaching for some new option, a third choice that would let him have his oil cake and eat it too. So absorbed, he almost missed the urgent summons Ratchet sent out. That name was what made him move towards the medbay as fast as he could without flying or running. He wasn’t scheduled to return for another half-groon, meaning something big was happening. 

He was not expecting to come in and see a squad of vehicons in the main room, Daisy frantically gesturing for him and Smokescreen (the cadet having arrived the same time as him) to head to the operating room. Even less was he expecting the sight that met them there. 

Wheeljack sat on the rotated medberth, his optics narrowing upon seeing Dreadwing, a yellow and blue sparkling cradled in his arms. “You stay right back there, ‘Con. You’re not getting anywhere close to him again.”

“Jackie,” Bulkhead admonished from where he stood at Wheeljack’s side. At the other was Ratchet, running a scanner over the sparkling. The other Autobots, Knockout, and Switchgear all stood around the room, Arcee in particular staring at the sparkling with some uninterpretable mixture of emotions.

“Whoa, Wheeljack, where’d you find a sparkling?” Smokescreen stepped up as close as he could to the berth, trying to see the sparkling. 

“Bit of a long story,” Wheeljack said, looking around the room. Seemed everyone was there, so he started his tale. “I was leading a recon out to the east, towards Nova Cronium, and we found a hot spot.”

“A hot spot?” Bumblebee asked. “There has been an active one since long before the War started.” 

“Yeah, I know, that’s why it surprised us. It was in the area of the old Guildhall, so we think it’s the one that served Nova, and the Omega Lock revived it. I was testing the metal, seeing what composition everything was, when Seaspray dove into the ground. I figured he was just playing around, so I kept working, then a joor later I heard wailing.” He shifted the sparkling, and the pieces clicked together for Dreadwing. 

“That’s Seaspray,” he said, and now Wheeljack’s reaction to his entrance made sense. 

“Yup. Brought him back here right away, and called Ratchet up for the exam.” Wheeljack looked to the medic, who had pulled back the scanner and was tapping at it. “How is he, doc?”

“Remarkably, he’s perfectly healthy. I can detect no glitches, and the frame is formed perfectly for a newforged sparkling.” He put the scanner away. “The main concern is making sure we can distill sparkling-grade energon, since I am the only mech here with a refinery tank and lines, and I can’t stay to play nursemaid.”

“Luckily, an artificial one won’t be hard to craft, and we have the resources to mix it,” Knockout said, looking up from a datapad. 

“So we can get our friends back?” Arcee asked, a spark of hope lighting up her optics. 

“Yes and no, Arcee,” Ratchet said. “This sparkling may carry Seaspray’s spark, but not his memories, else there’d be a lot more processor activity going on, and he probably wouldn’t be as calm as he is now. This wasn’t a revival or a resurrection. It’s more of a reincarnation. In fact,” he turned to Wheeljack and Bulkhead, “I’d give him a different name than Seaspray. He’s not going to be the same mech you remember, and it’d be cruel to give him a name with any expectation behind it.”

Wheeljack and Bulkhead looked down at the sparkling, then each other, and seemed to come to the same decision. “Barnacle.” Wheeljack smiled. “I think he’d appreciate that.”

“Barny for short. We’ll just need to keep Miko away from purple paint when we visit.” Bulkhead leaned in and rubbed the sparkling’s helm with a digit, and the sparkling nuzzled into him. 

“So, should we prepare for a baby boom?” Smokescreen asked. “Once this gets out, you know everyone’s going to be taking a spark to the hot spot to bring them back.”

“That would strain our resources too much, and slow down the restoration efforts if half our workforce are on parental leave,” Switchgear said. 

“There were a bunch of other sparks there with the squad, and Seaspray- Barnacle was the only one to dive in,” Wheeljack said. 

“Maybe the spark has to choose to be reforged,” Bumblebee suggested. “So if they’re not ready, or don’t want to, they won’t go in.” 

Like an electrical surge, a thought rushed through Dreadwing’s processor, and he was speaking before he’d even completed it. “I would like to test that theory.” 

Everyone turned to look at him, and he quickly composed himself before continuing. “You all know the situation with Skyquake’s spark. If I can attempt this with him, we will have a better idea of how it works.” 

“I’ll go with him,” Arcee said, to no one’s surprise. “Better to know, right?”

Ultra Magnus and Ratchet met optics, and were certainly discussing the matter over comms with how their silence stretched on. After a couple klicks however, Ultra Magnus nodded, and turned back to them, a set of coordinates pinging on Dreadwing’s HUD. “You two may go to the hot spot. Return by last shift tomorrow, whether or not the sparks reforge.”

“Take Daisy with you,” Knockout said. “She’ll monitor the process and take readings as needed.” 

Dreadwing nodded, and sent a short message to Arcee. [The two of you leave now. I’ll catch up once I have Skyquake.]

[Affirmative.] Arcee turned on her heel and left the operating room while Dreadwing crossed to where Skyquake was still sitting in the stabilizer. He hadn’t improved since being placed inside, but he also hadn’t declined. Now Dreadwing only hoped he’d last outside the device. 

Knockout had a glass canister ready for transport. “Keep him in your cockpit. Proximity to your spark might be the only thing to keep him alive for the transit.” 

“Thank you.” He took the canister and Knockout transferred Skyquake into it. Dreadwing placed the lid and didn’t even wait for the full seal before he was running out the door. The flight deck was too far, so he just took one of the airlocks, taking off just as Arcee and Daisy drove out the ground level. 

He was tempted to leave the two behind, get to the hot spot coordinates as fast as possible. But he’d need Daisy if anything went wrong, and he could not fly while carrying both femmes. So instead it was a long, slow flight, even as he was certain Arcee and Daisy were redlining their engines. 

After a small eternity, the shattered Guildhall came into view, and luckily it was a straight shot down the road Wheeljack’s team had already cleared, so after one loop to bleed off height and speed, he landed in the hot spot at the same time the femmes stopped and transformed. The pale blue and red sparks of Arcee’s partners flitted around her shoulders. 

The loamy ground certainly felt like an active hot spot, and Dreadwing dropped to his knees in it, setting the canister down on its side. A quick twist of his wrist had the lid off, and a soft tilt sent Skyquake into the living metal with an almost audible plop. 

Knockout may have been right about proximity being the only thing keeping Skyquake alive. His brother was dim, glowing no brighter than the Nemesis’s emergency lights, and only the slightest pulse to his spark suggested he was anything more than a ball of plasma. 

“Skyquake, you’re in a hot spot. An active one. I brought you here so you can form a new body, so you can live again. It- it won’t be the same. You won’t be the same mech. But I can’t- Sky, I can’t lose you again. If this isn’t what you want, I’ll carry you into the Well, like Optimus did.” He hadn’t realized his desires leaning that way until that moment, but he knew it to be truth. 

He cupped his servos around Skyquake, and leaned down until his crest rested against his corona. He could feel the lubricant starting to pool in his optics and shut them. “Please, Sky. Come back to me, or tell me it’s time to go. I just want to be with you.” 

He stayed just like that, still as stone, afraid to even vent lest he miss the clue. Then, a little nudge against his forehelm, like the headbutts they used to share. Then a wiggle, that had Dreadwing sitting up. 

The solid part of Skyquake’s spark pressed into the ground, trying to dig but not quite strong enough to put in more than a dent. A smile spread across Dreadwing’s face, as he scooped up Skyquake in one servo, then dug a hole with the other. Once it was deep enough, he set him in the hole, and then pulled the loam over his brother. A couple gentle pats to put it in place, and then there was nothing to do but wait. 

“That was a good depth.” Daisy’s voice beside him startled him, and he turned to see her standing next to him, scanner out and ready to monitor. “The hot spot is fresh, so the cybermatter is close to the surface.” She pulled a cube of energon from her subspace. “Pour this over the loam. It should help him form faster.”

Dreadwing did, spreading it slowly and evenly, then watching it sink into the ground. Time seemed to stretch after that, klicks to breems and breems to joors. A small eternity he kept his gaze focused on the loam before him. At some point, he noticed Daisy kneeling down, Arcee coming to sit on his other side, Tailgate and Cliffjumper flitting close to the ground in front of him before retreating. None of that mattered. Nothing did but his brother below the loam. 

Finally, after forever and a joor, he heard it. The high pitched keen nothing on Cybertron could emulate. The one that triggered coding deep within all mecha, and he had to bat away Arcee and Daisy’s servos so he could be the one to dig down, to toss away the crumbling loam, to unearth his brother. 

Finally, a servo poked from the loam, then the other, than helm and torso, and Dreadwing lifted him fully out of the hole as the keen became a full wail. He cradled his brother in his arms, sitting back on his heels and brushing what dirt he could from the little frame. The lubricant in his optics spilled down his cheeks, and he didn’t care a mote.

He looked so similar to the old memory captures of his and Skyquake’s own sparkling days. Pale green protoform, little bumps on the helm giving hints to the eventual crest that’d rest here, wing nubs already twitching in displeasure. Another memory from then sprang up, and he started humming the old lullaby their caretaker had sang to them. The words were lost to time, but the melody was more than enough to soothe his brother, who slowly stopped wailing and settled down to nuzzle against Dreadwing’s chassis. 

“Ten digits, two wings, solid pedes, and no glitches or errors picked up by the portable scanner.” Daisy smiled at him when he glanced at her. “Any thoughts on a name?”

He had not been thinking of one, but at that moment, it came to him. 

“Cloudquiver. That is his name.” 

“It’s a good one,” Arcee said, standing. “We should head back. Ratchet’s going to want to give him a full exam.”

Dreadwing nodded, and as he stood, he felt lighter than he had in a long time, once more holding his brother in his arms. 

~

Note: Title is from this quote: “There is no death as we know and understand it – only life and energy going from one stage to another. Imagine a pool of sparks going in and out at an atomic level. From one void to another – that’s what we are in the deep, existential void.” ― Raz Mihal, Just Love Her

[writing-ro]

Lindworm [TCR Secret Santa 2025]

@alisareturns , I was your Secret Santa this year! I used your prompt "Dragons" and it just so coincided with an idea I was bouncing around for a Birthday Bash fic that never came to be. I hope you enjoy!

Rating: T

Fandom: The Cat Returns

Relationships: Haru Yoshioka/Baron Humbert von Gikkingen, Prince Lune/Yuki

Characters: Haru Yoshioka, Yuki, Baron Humbert von Gikkingen, Zeniba, Original Characters

Additional Tags: Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fairytales, Curses and Spells, Based on the Prince Lindworm fairytale.

~

Despite the long journey, the caravan was still in as bright spirits entering the border town as they were when they left the capital two weeks prior. How could they not be, when they were carrying Princess Yukimi of Kalmia to her wedding to Prince Lune of Katzea. 

Much of that joy was carried by the Princess herself, and Haru couldn't help fondly watching her dearest friend sitting across from her in the carriage. She hadn't stopped smiling since they set out, and it was wider right now, certainly from thoughts of her betrothed as she embroidered a sash intended for Prince Lune to wear on their wedding day. 

Haru’s own thoughts turned that way as well, as she worked on her own embroidery. Theirs was a storybook romance, starting with a betrothal in infancy, spending every summer in each other’s company and exchanging letters the rest of the year. Haru had only become Yuki’s lady-in-waiting when they were twelve and ten respectively, but it still allowed her to watch as friendship turned to puppy love, then into the steady kind that would only deepen with time and age.

Those two will be old and grey and so sickeningly in love their grandchildren will giggle in disgust, she thought, and her heart gave a wistful twist, as she couldn’t help but hope for a love like that one day. 

Sudden shouting and screaming jolted Haru from her musings, and a moment later the carriage’s sudden stop almost rocked her out of her seat. Yuki almost fell from hers, only saved by her mother catching her. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Empress Rinka said, righting her daughter in her seat before knocking on the side of the carriage. “What’s happening out there?”

“A- A dragon, your majesty!” one of the guardsmen said, his voice cracking and just audible over the sounds of the panicking townsfolk outside. “It just rose out of the river and wrapped itself around the bridge. It- anyone looking at it is freezing in place!”

“Petrification?” Yuki asked. “I’ve heard of no dragon with such magic.” 

“None in Kalmia, but dragons of other lands have other gifts,” Haru reminded her. “Is the dragon attacking?”

“N-no. It’s just sitting on the bridge, looking about.” The noise outside dimmed, and the guardsman grew more confident. “It hasn’t reached for anyone it petrified, nor lashed out at any buildings.” 

“The dragon must have reason to reveal itself,” Rinka said, pursing her lips in thought. 

“I can ask,” Haru said immediately, to the obvious surprise of the royals. 

“Haru, its dangerous,” Yuki said. “We don’t know the dragon’s intentions.”

“And we won’t unless someone asks.” Haru stood, smoothing out her blue kimono. “I will use the utmost respect and caution, and if that fails… Better myself than either of you, your highness.” Haru was, after all, the daughter of a third-tier lord who just happened to befriend the princess. She’d hate to think the consequences if the emperor’s beloved empress and dearest child were lost to a dragon, on such an auspicious journey. 

“Haru-”

“Let her go, Yukimi,” Rinka said, nodding her head to Haru. “We await your return, honored niece.”

Haru smiled, and stepped out of the carriage. The guardsman - Hashio, she could see now - gave her a worried look, but still fell into step behind her as she walked towards the dragon. 

The square was a strange and terrifying tableau. A wide square separated the border bridge from the town proper, one which would likely be filled with stalls of foods and goods on market days. Instead, the frozen forms of guardsmen, from the caravan and the town, were scattered about, some with weapons drawn, others turned as if to flee. A few of those mounted were frozen with their horses, one reared back with its forelegs kicking out. Straight ahead, its head lowered and watching, was the dragon. 

It was objectively a beautiful beast, she noted first off. Golden scales on the upper half of its long serpentine body, ivory on its underside up to the chin of its felinesque head. Large ears surrounded by a ruff of fur, a black triangle of nostrils over its fanged mouth, whiskers even. All she couldn’t tell was the color and shape of its eyes, for she intentionally avoided looking at them, lowering her gaze as she approached. 

She stopped about twenty feet from the dragon, dipping into a deep bow. “Hail, Great Dragon,” she said, her Katzen a little rough, but her voice strong and clear. 

A snuffling sound, then a voice, masculine but lighter than she’d expected, spoke. “Who approaches?”

“Lady Haru Yoshioka, lady to Princes Yukimi of Kalmia. My mistress asks why you have blocked our path and petrified our guards. If it is a wrong we have committed, we wish to know how to correct it.”

The dragon shifted ahead of her, she could see its shadow move. “Raise your head, Lady Haru.” 

She did, and gasped at seeing the dragon’s head had lowered to be level with and near her own. Though she couldn’t be sure if the gasp was for the closeness or for how dazzling its eyes were. Sparkling green the exact shade of emeralds, she would not be surprised if someone told her they actually were made of the stone. Luckily, she collected her thoughts in time to hear the dragon’s answer. 

“Inform your mistress that she may not pass, for it is not time for her marriage.”

Haru’s eyes widened, and she barely held her manners in asking “What do you mean? This wedding day has been set for years.” 

“The only wedding to be held is mine. ‘The elder weds before the younger,’ so is Tradition.” 

A thrum went through Haru at the dragon’s words. Tradition was held in high reverence, and to betray them would cast misfortune on those who went against it. But for the elder to wed before the younger, that would mean…

“I will inform my mistress at once.” She bowed again and started to walk backwards, only to bump into Hashio. She turned, and found him petrified, his spear raised in a defensive posture. “Please release our guards.”

“They shall be freed in a half-hour, so long as they do not try to attack me.” 

That was a reasonable request, so Haru simply moved around Hashio, and headed back to the carriage. 

“What did the dragon want?” Rinka asked as she climbed in. 

“He said he won’t let us pass, as it’s not time for Yuki’s marriage.”

“What? Why?” Yuki asked. 

“Because Tradition dictates ‘the elder weds before the younger’.”

“Lune is an only child. He dosn’t have any siblings, elder or younger.” 

“That is what the dragon said, and I felt the certainty of his words.”

“We need answers,” Rinka said. “Will he free our guards?”

“The petrification will wear off in a half-hour, he said.”

Rinka nodded and stood. “Haru, see about getting us lodging. I will speak with the dragon about letting a messenger ride to Katzenburg, so we can get answers from Pheobus and Perdita.”

Haru bowed and stepped out of the carriage again. Hopefully the King and Queen Felinus would have an answer for them. 

~

It took four days for a response to come from the Felinus royal family, in the form of them riding down from the capital. The border lord was more than happy to host the imperial caravan in his home, and had one of his servants watching the bridge every hour for the messenger. The dragon, upon receiving Rinka sworn promise to not try and sneak Yuki across the bridge, had retreated, allowing travel and trade to resume as normal, until Prince Lune attempted to cross the bridge with his parents. Then, the dragon rose again and blocked the bridge, freezing the Katzen guards, the prince and the king. Only Queen Perdita and one of her guard were allowed to cross to meet with them. 

The first thing Queen Perdita did upon entering the sitting room where they were to take tea was kneel on the floor and bow to Rinka and Yuki. “I can only offer my deepest and most sincere apologies to you, your majesty, for it was my mistakes that have led us here.”

Rinka’s face held her imperial impassivity, but Haru had known her long enough to sense the confusion at the other Queen’s actions and words. “How so, your highness?”

Queen Perdita sat back on her heels. “The dragon’s words are true; he is my firstborn son.”

The queen then shared her tale: how after years of trying and failing for a child, a woodswitch gave her instructions to grow two roses to eat, a golden one for a son, a silver for a daughter. How she’d chosen to eat the golden, but it tasted to delicious she couldn’t stop herself from also eating the silver. How she gave birth while the king was away, and how the first child was a golden serpent hatchling, while the second was human. How she’d ordered the midwife and assisting mades to hide the dragonling far away, and claimed the human child as the only heir when the king returned. 

“I never thought I’d see my firstborn again, until three months ago, when we announced the date for Lune and Yuki’s wedding.” Queen Perdita had tears in her emerald green eyes by this point, gently dabbing at them with her handkerchief. “The next day, a golden lindworm broke into the throne room and demanded a bride. When my husband was convinced of our firstborn’s claim to marriage, he ordered the daughter of our most impoverished baron to the palace. They were wed, but the next morning, the daughter had disappeared, with no more than a torn bridal gown remaining. Her poor father died of heartbreak, and again the lindworm demanded a bride, while also claiming the baron’s title for his own.

“Pheobus next ordered the daughter of our greatest lord wed the lindworm, and once more only her bridal gown was found. Now all the lords have sent their daughters away, and Phoebus refuses to let his son marry a commoner, which I believe is the only reason we haven't had mobs swarming the palace. I think Phoebus was planning to either force Princess Yuki to marry our firstborn, or hoping two brides would be enough.” Queen Perdita bowed once more. “I beg you, your majesty, please help me find a bride who can be wed alongside Princess Yuki, so that our children can join in union, as always planned.”

Rinka led her anger show through her mask. “You expect me to ask my husband to order a daughter of Kalmia to die in her wedding bed? To clean up your mistake that you had eighteen years to correct? I have half a mind to order the betrothal broken, if I didn’t know that doing so could make my daughter die of a broken heart.” 

Queen Perdita flinched under every harsh word, and her voice cracked with her pleas. “There is no one else I can ask. Without a double wedding, the house of Felinus will fall, and Katzea soon after. Please, help me save my family.”

Haru’s heartstrings had been pulled all through the foreign queen’s story, but this was the breaking straw. 

“I’ll do it.”

Everyone’s heads whipped towards her so quickly, she worried they’d hurt themselves. Queen Perdita looked like she hadn’t even realized Haru had been in the room until just then. “You- you will?”

“Haru, no!” Yuki jumped up and grabbed her hands. “I forbid you from sacrificing yourself for me.” 

“I don’t intend to be a sacrifice,” Haru said, squeezing Yuki’s hands. “But this union has been long soughed after and wished for, on all sides. I want you to have all the happiness possible, and if a wedding night with a dragon is what’s called of me, I will do so.”

“Are you certain, Haru?” Rinka asked, and Haru could see the concern in her eyes, the maternal affection that had eased her through a youth defined by the loss of her own mother. 

“I am, your majesty.” 

“Very well.” Rinka turned back to Perdita. “Inform your sons and husband the double wedding will be held on schedule, but don’t expect your firstborn’s bride to be as well ornamented as is customary.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Queen Perdita stood and bowed deeply, first to Rinka, then to Haru and Yuki. “Anything you need that is in my power to give is yours, just say the word. For as long as possible, I would call you daughter, if you’d allow it.” 

Haru stood, gently pushing Yuki back, and took the queen’s hands in her own. “I thank you, mother.” A thought occurred to her then, and an idea started forming in her mind. “There is one thing you can give me in this moment.”

“What is that?”

“The location of the woods where you met the witch.”

~

Once the dragon - The Baron of Gikkingen, as he was now known - confirmed that he indeed had a bride, and had taken another oath to not trick him out of Haru’s hand, he let the caravan pass, stating he would make his own way to Katzenburg Palace and meet Haru at the alter. This was a relief for the entire party, as they weren’t certain how the horses would take to traveling with such a great predator, and for Haru specifically, for her idea would be easier to accomplish if she didn’t have to entertain her husband to be.

The words felt strange to think, let alone say aloud. She had not expected the day she’d say those words to come so soon, and certainly not in these circumstances. Then again, she doubted anyone could have expected to become the bride of a dragon who should have been a prince. It was a tale of legend, a story parents would tell their children to entertain and teach. She could only hope her role in the story was of the triumphant heroine and not the poor sacrifice. 

A half day’s ride from Katzenburg, the caravan stopped at an inn for the night, and after their luggage was brought to the room, Haru searched through for her simplest kimono. As she changed, Yuki sat on the room’s bed. “Do you really have to go alone?” she asked. “Hashio, or Lune could go with you. I would too, if Mother would allow me.”

Haru shook her head, tying her simple obi in front. “I have better odds of finding the witch if I go alone. I will be careful, and I doubt any bandits would dare linger near here with the rumor of a man-eating dragon about.”

“Don’t joke about that, please.”

Haru turned to her dearest friend, and saw the worry in her eyes. She crossed the room and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I’m sorry. I will do my best to stay safe and be careful. With luck, I’ll be back before the sun fully sets.”

Yuki hugged her back. “You’d better, or I’m sending the guard after you, witch or no witch.”

Haru pulled away from the hug, and after one more reassurance, left the room and the inn, heading southwest, to where Queen Perdita had said she’d been riding when the witch met her. 

The whole way, she pondered her predicament, and how she could only hope for the assistance of someone with knowledge to the folk magics of Katzea. A desperate plea to the world to save her and any future brides from a grisly wedding night. 

“You look troubled, my dear.”

She whirled around at the sound of the voice - feminine and creaky like wind bending the branches of a tree. A old woman with a basket stood before her, tall with a head almost too large for her body, her face dominated by a hooked nose and a red dot in between her eyes. Her grey-blonde hair was pulled up in a coifed bun, a red broach pinned at the high collar of her fine blue dress, golden disks hung from her ears, and an assortment of rings adorning her fingers. Even if she didn’t perfectly match the description Queen Perdita had given her, the energy about her could not be mistaken. 

“I have much to be troubled with, Lady Yubaba.” She bowed to the witch, who chuckled. 

“I’m not my sister, sweet girl. Were I her, I’d be offering you a harsh deal to solve them.”

Haru tried not to frown as she straightened. “Then what may I call you, my lady?” 

“For you, my dear, I can be Granny Zeniba, if”- she raised her basket -”you will join me for some tea, and tell me the woes that sent you seeking my sister.”

“Could you solve a problem your sister caused?”

“I feel like that’s half my life these days.” Granny Zeniba beckoned with her free hand. “Come along, my dear.”

A part of Haru was wary of the demand, but the majority felt it was a small price to pay for the chance to save her life. So she walked up and offered her arm to Zeniba’s free one. “Lead the way, Granny.”

“Such nice manners.” Zeniba took the arm and led her further into the forest. 

She didn’t return to the inn until an hour after dark, but the worried scolding from Yuki, Rinka and Perdita was well worth the knowledge of how to ensure she survived her wedding night. And when she shared the instructions she’d been given, they were all to eager to make preparations right away.

~

Two weeks later, the wedding day had arrived. Haru and Yuki woke before sunrise so the maids, both their own and the ones assigned to them by Queen Perdita, could prepare them properly. Baths to scrub any and all traces of dirt from their bodies, lotions rubbed into their skin to make them as soft as a babe’s, oils and pins and combs to shape their hair into style, brushes and powders and paints to make their faces as beautiful as any porcelain doll. 

The bridal kimono were the final touch, and once on, Haru felt like she couldn’t recognize herself in the mirror when she was placed in front of it. A bright golden outer uchikake with trailing sleeves and hem, worn open over an diamond white furisode, belted closed with a golden obi. Both of the silks were plain, for the short notice of their need, but no less beautiful for it. 

“Oh, Haru, you’re beautiful!” Yuki said, standing next to her in her own pink and ivory. Unlike Haru’s, hers were richly patterned with cranes and koi, gold threads sparkling in the light. 

“I should say the same of you, Yuki.” Haru gave a smile. “Prince Lune will be too stunned to speak his vows once he sees you.”

“I can only hope your own groom is similarly impressed,” Rinka said, coming up behind the girls in her own crimson kimono. “It is not the wedding we had envisioned, but we have risen to the occasion.” She looked down at Haru, eyes shining with affection as she pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m honored to be standing with you this day.”

She melted into the hug and returned it just as fiercely. “Thank you, your majesty.”

“Auntie. You will officially be family after today, after all.”

Haru felt her eyes well up, and blinked furiously to keep the maids from having to redo her makeup. “Auntie.” 

Yuki joined the hug on Haru’s other side. “You’ve been my sister for longer than today. This only lets the world recognize it.” 

Haru freed an arm to pat at Yuki’s. “The same from here, Yuki.”

They held the hug for a few moments more, then Rinka pulled back. “We must make our way to the chapel. It won’t be long now.”

She was right, for within the hour, Haru found herself standing at the alter, The Baron at her right side, Lune and Yuki on her left, as the priest gave the wedding sermon. He had shrunk a fair bit from their first meeting, to better fit in the palace halls, but was still twenty feet in length, six of which stood upright next to her while the rest stretched out down the aisle. His scales gleamed and his emerald eyes never left her, the weight of his gaze as heavy as her kimono.

When the rings were to be exchanged, Haru instead had a golden chain to place around her husband’s neck, a matching one to go around herself. If this had been how The Baron wed his first two brides, Haru couldn’t help but see the symbolism of it all. 

At last, the vows were said, and kisses exchanged to seal the marriages, and she couldn’t help feeling surprised at how gently The Baron was when he nuzzled his muzzle against her. Had he been this tender with his prior brides too?

If asked afterwards, Haru could not properly recall a single thing that happened during the wedding banquet. She ate and she talked and she watched the dancers and performers out on the floor, but it was all a jewel-toned haze in her mind, all her focus on what would happen when she and her husband went to their bridal suite. 

Finally, the sun dipped below the horizon, and the time came for the happy couples to retire for the night. When Haru stood from her seat, The Baron lowered himself down next to her. “Climb on, my bride.”

She was once more surprised by his tenderness, but did as asked, inelegantly mounted him, grabbing onto his fur ruff. Once she did, The Baron bolted from the banquet hall, the doors flying open and slamming shut as they passed, fast enough Haru couldn’t recognize any of halls before they were in the bridal suite. 

The door shut and locked behind them, with all the gravity of a mausoleum.

Haru slid from The Baron’s back, and once her slippers touched the floor, he circled her, his eyes seeming to burn with emerald flame. 

“Shed your dress,” he ordered, and she couldn’t help the shiver down her spine that his growl gave her. 

“If I must disrobe, you must too, my husband,” she told him. “Shed your skin.”

The look of surprise on his face was almost human, but he nodded. “As my bride wishes.” He dove to the bed, and rubbed his scales against the posts of the bed. After a moment, she could see the top layer of his scales lifting from his body, and so she ducked into the bathing chamber, and breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing all her preparations in place. A basin of lye, soaking a leather cowherd’s whip, and a basin of milk, soaking a stack of wash cloths.

She turned back to The Baron just as he finished shedding the skin, dropping it to the floor. In the fading light, his scales were duller, no longer mirror bright but still shining. In turn, she removed her uchikake, draping the golden cloth over his skin. 

His eyes narrowed when he saw her still dressed. “Shed your dress,” he ordered again.

“If I must disrobe, you must too, my husband,” she told him again. “Shed your skin.”

A growl built in his throat, but he did as commanded, rubbing at the bed posts once more. When he finished his shed, he dropped the skin to the floor again, and was just the slightest bit duller. In turn, Haru untied her obi, then pulled her furisode off and placed it with her uchikake. Beneath she wore another kimono, a thin and white as snow, with a simple sash holding it closed. 

His eyes narrowed at her new layer. “Shed your dress,” he ordered again.

“If I must describe, you must too, my husband,” she told him again. “Shed your skin.” 

Six more times they repeated the ritual; she stripped her next layer of cloth and he his next layer of scale. With each layer lost, their colors both grew duller, snow to ivory to champagne to blush to ecru to tan to grey, gold and ivory to pale yellow and eggshell white. When Haru at last stood in her undyed undergarments, The Baron lay collapsed on the bed, with no more energy to even demand her to shed. 

“My bride, come to bed,” he commanded, but his voice was so thin and soft, it sounded more like a plea. 

“In a minute, my husband,” she said, and headed to the bathing chamber for the basins. Setting them atop her pile of gowns, she picked up the whip, and before The Baron could ask what she was doing, she spun around and cracked it across his body. 

The Baron screamed, a harsh, shrill sound that echoed in the bridal chamber. An angry red welt rose on his skin, blood beading along it. “Wife, you wound me.”

Haru didn’t answer him, already dipping the whip back in the lye and striking him again. Again, The Baron screamed, and a welt rose, and again she readied for the next. Nine times she struck him, and when she dropped the whip among the shed skins and cloth on the floor, her eyes had overflowed with tears. She picked up the basin of milk and carried it to the bedside. 

“Wife, what further tortures do you have for me.”

“Not much more, husband,” she assured him, and used the first of the cloths to wash his head. 

Down his body she washed him, hearing his hisses as she wiped his welts, discarding each cloth as it turned pink from the blood and milk. With the ninth cloth, she finished his tail, and dropped it among the skins and cloth. Then she circled the bed again, and climbed up next to her husband. His emerald eyes were half closed, and looked at her with such agony, even the hardest hearts would soften. 

Haru’s heart was not hardened, and she had no trouble following Granny Zeniba’s last instruction, gathering The Baron’s head into her lap and wrapping her arms and torso around him in a hug. 

“Wife, you would hold me still?” he asked.

“This night and every night, so long as you’d have me,” she said, her eyes drifting closed, and in moments she fell into a deep sleep. 

~

The sun shining through the window woke Haru the next morning, and for a moment, she wondered if she’d truly not survived the night, if this was some afterlife she’d been awarded for her bravery. But she felt a weight on her stomach, and opening her eyes showed the canopy of the wedding bed above her. 

She slowly sat up, looked down, and saw a head of golden hair and incredibly handsome face resting in her lap. Following the length of the body revealed a man, naked as a newborn, thin golden lines crossing over him in the unmistakable scars of a whip. She blushed and frowned flipping the covers over him the best she could. Her other hand carded through his hair, the same length and thickness as the dragon’s had been.

The rising sun’s beams crept across the bed, until they fell across the man’s eyes. They fluttered open, and the emerald green could only belong to The Baron. 

“Haru?” he asked, his voice hoarse and weak and afraid. 

Haru smiled at him. “Good morning, husband.”

The Baron pushed himself up, wobbling enough that Haru reached out to steady him as he did. Which gave him the chance to look down at his hands, and his body, and when he finally looked back at her face, tears flowed down his face. 

“I’m free. You freed me!” He hugged her with enough force to almost send her back onto the mattress, but all she cared was to wrap her own arms around him as he sobbed out his joy, and she added her own tears to the mess. 

When they both finally calmed enough to pull away from each other, The Baron still kept hold of her hands, as if he worried she’d disappear without the contact. 

“How did you know to do this?”

“Granny Zeniba told me, when I sought her out to learn how survive my wedding night.” Haru glanced at him, then away to the skins on the floor. “Though I don’t know if we still are wed, since my vows were given to the lindworm.” 

“I- Well, I would not know either.” The Baron sounded bashful in his answer. “But wed or not, I would request leave to court you, if you’re so willing.”

“Truly?” Haru turned to him. “You would court me?”

“If you would allow me to, which is the greater question.” His emerald eyes sparkled, bright as the gems they resembled. “You offered to be my bride, knowing the fates of the others. You have been more courteous to me than any could ask or expect. And beyond all of that, you saved me from the skin of the beast. I would wish to know the woman brave enough to do these things.”

Haru blushed at the praise, which felt higher than it should be for the acts she did. “I would allow it.”

Before more words could be said, a knock on the door and the turning of a key announced the arrival of guests to the bridal chambers. When the servants opened the door, they found Lady Haru drawing on her last kimono, while The Baron wrapped himself in the sheets for decency. When the word spread that not only had the bride survived the night, but had in fact freed the lindworm from his curse, there was much rejoicing. 

The celebrations lasted for weeks, feasts and festivals and ceremonies first honoring Haru for her bravery, then honoring the naming of Prince Humbert Felinus, the Baron of Gikkingen, then the announcement of Prince Lune and Princess Yuki’s first child. 

As surmised, it was decided the marriage between Haru and The Baron had ended with the shedding of the lindworm’s skin. The pair minded little, for it just gave an excuse for a proper courtship, and two years after their first wedding, they held their second, more lavish and extravagant and far far happier. And so they lived for the rest of their days. 

[writing-ro]

Recolors [Sprint Prompt Ficlet]

So I'm in a small group that does prompted writing sprints, and one of this week's prompts was "Mischief". I wasn't entirely sure what to do for it, until a post crossed my Tumblr dash, and I immediately had an idea.

~~~

Things had been quiet in the Decepticon base. Anyone with two processor nodes to spark together can tell you this was a bad thing. 

The Decepticons ran on conflict, whether the violence of brawling each other, or the humiliation of pranks played. The latter was most often done by Skywarp, Rumble and Frenzy, and the fact that two weeks had passed without an antic from any of them had the smarter members of the army on edge. 

So in a way, it was almost a relief when Starscream came screeching into the command center, his frame a completely different color scheme than normal. 

Instead of his red chassis with blue forearms and calves, and pristine white wings, upper arms and thighs, he now sported a light blue chassis, and a mottled white and grey everywhere else. Only his black helm remained of his original colors. 

“Soundwave! Look what your brats have done to me!”

Soundwave looked impassive as always, behind his mask and visor, as he looked down at his two cassettes, who snickered just under the edge of the communications console. 

“Rumble, Frenzy: explain,” Soundwave ordered. 

“It was just a little prank,” Rumble said. “Things were getting boring around here.”

“So you painted me in my recharge!?” Starscream yelled, servos and wings twitching. 

“Course not!” Frenzy said. “We just programmed a temporary rewrite for your color nanites. It’ll go away in a couple joors.”

“Or an orn,” Rumble corrected. “That part of the code was a bit tricky.”

“AN ORN!?” Starscream’s voice jumped several decibels and octaves in his outrage, and only Soundwave’s presence kept him from leaping forward to strangle the minicons. 

“Explain: how did you install the rewrite?” Soundwave asked. 

“Oh, we had Skywarp plug the program in last night,” Frenzy said. 

“Skywarp.” Starscream grit his denta with a growl. “I’m going to kill him.”

“It could be worse, Starscream.”

The Seeker and Communications Officer both turned at Megatron’s voice, and looks of shock crossed both their faces. Behind them, Rumble and Frenzy started snickering. 

Their leader stood in the doorway, no longer gunmetal silver. Instead, his helm, chassis, arms and calves were white, with his thighs, pedes and face black. As well, neon green tiger stripes covered his chest,  upper arms and calves. At their stares, Megatron just crossed his arms and raised a brow. 

Starscream broke first, doubling over with his laugher. “You are quite right, my lord. Thank you for taking the more devastating blow between us.”

Soundwave, meanwhile, turned to his twins. “Really?” he asked, putting all his exasperation into the word. 

“At least it’s not the neon green and purple camo we wanted to use,” Frenzy said. “Skywarp came up with that one.” 

“Query: how many others have been recolored?”

“Only four. We couldn’t hit anyone else before shift change,” Rumble said.

“Then I would say six weeks of restriction will help teach you not to do such a thing again,” Megatron said, walking up to stare down the cassettes. “As well as the confiscation of your personal datapads.” 

“Agreed, Lord Megatron,” Soundwave said. “Rumble, Frenzy, return.”

“Aww, come on, boss,” Frenzy whined, but a withering look from Soundwave had him and his twin fold down into cassette form and tuck themselves into Soundwave’s chassis. 

“Soundwave: will examine their datapads for program. Intention: restore altered color schemes to normal.”

“Thank you, Soundwave.” Megatron glanced over to Starscream, who had gotten over his laughing fit and left the command center, hunting for his trinemate most likely. “But don’t neglect your duties to do so.” 

Soundwave nodded, and turned back to his console. If his master could stand to be tiger striped for a day or two, then it was worth it to see Starscream so disheveled.

~~~

Here's the pics of Megatron and Starscream's recolors (the Generations Selects Combat Megatron and MTRC-13 Ice Scream respectively)

Hope you enjoyed this, it was my first time writing the G1 versions of the characters.

[catsafarithewriter]

Secret Santa 2025

IT’S THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN, FOLKS

In recent years, The Cat Returns fandom has hosted a Secret Santa event, and this year we're doing it again! I know it's been a while since I hosted this, but I'm back and more excited than ever to get this show on the road!

The Basics:

Anyone who wants to take part must contact me (through tumblr asks/message or discord) by Saturday 22nd November with a wishlist of 3-5 prompts. (These can be an AU, a trope, a quote, character requests, etc.)

Then by Monday 24th November, I shall contact you with the name of the person you're Secret Santa-ing for, and between Christmas and New Year you will post something you've created that matches one of the recipient's prompts from their wishlist.

This can be anything, as long as it’s something TCR-themed you’ve created that matches a prompt. Art, writing, gifs, etc. Surprise us. 

Post your creation to your tumblr page, tagging the recipient and also "the cat returns" and "tcr secret santa 2025". Everyone’s happy!

NOTE: If, for some reason, you join but find yourself unable to complete a Secret Santa gift, contact me and I will find a back-up. There's no shame in it (it's a busy time of year!) but if you let me know in time, I can make sure that everyone who participated gets something regardless.

The Dates:

NOW: Contact me with your wishlist if you want to take part.

Saturday 22nd November: Cut-off deadline for applying with wishlists

Monday 24th November: Receive the name of who you're Secret Santa-ing for, and get creating!

Christmas - New Year: Post your stuff!

[echoblaze5]

WOO HOO. Can finally start posting my art I did with @writing-ro fic “Dance For The Dragon” for @tf-bigbang! This has been my third year participating in the TF Big Bang and it’s always so fun. I’d like to thank the mods for the hard they did this year to make run smoothly. And of course I want to thank my author Ro for writing such a fantastic story to draw for and for MemyselfandI_1 for beta reading the fic. Hope to join again next year!

Link for this great story is linked below!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[writing-ro]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Here it is, my entry to the 2025 Transformers Big Bang, hosted by @tf-bigbang. Chapter 1 is live, and I'll be posting daily until it is done. I hope you all enjoy it!

Rating: T Fandom: Transformers: Prime Relationships: Megatron & Miko Nakadai, Autobots & Miko Nakadai, Decepticons & Miko Nakadai Characters: Miko Nakadai, Megatron (Transformers), Laserbeak (Transformers), Soundwave (Transformers), Cassettes (Transformers), Knock Out (Transformers), Deathsaurus (Transformers), Drift | Deadlock, Starscream (Transformers), Sideways (Transformers) Additional Tags: Humanformers, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Pre-Relationship Miko Nakadai/Megatron, Miko Nakadai-centric, Gods & Monsters AU, Necromantic Rituals, Magic Challenges, Royal Balls

Summary: When several members of her coven are murdered, Miko Nakadai is the only one able to enter the Underworld to bring them back. When her efforts are thwarted by Megatron, the Dragon of the Dead and Lord Ruler of the Underworld, she demands a Challenge to prove herself. The Challenge she is given is to dance the night away at the Dragon’s Ball without sitting or falling, and if she succeeds, he would release her friends. She accepts, quickly gaining the attention of the entire Umbral Court. But Megatron’s attention might run deeper than just fascinated curiosity.

[Read More on AO3]

[Read More on FFN]