TFs: DARE TO BE STUPID

I've been buying all the transformers dragons. So many dragons. I hit the flight rising thread yesterday, but... then I bought more. Let's see, I'll put up the adult morph versions, but with different genes than they have at this exact point in time. Part one!

Spoiler

Ambulon (crimson/maize/magenta):


Arcee (silver/pink/steel):


Brainstorm (lapis/gold/platinum):


Nightbeat (lemon/blue/ice):


Waspinator (forest/thistle/beige):


Windblade (tomato/obsidian/caribbean):

 

Aaaaand part two!

Spoiler

Rodimus (carmine/red/banana) (courtesy of the lovely coldstars!):


Shadowblade Megatron (shadow/shadow/shadow):


Trepan (peach/sunshine/midnight):


Chromedome (grey/red/maize):


Rewind (white/obsidian/red):


Aaaaaaaand Prowl (black/platinum/moon):


(also it amuses me that Chromedome can have babies with Rewind... but not with Prowl. Of course, this does mean that Rewind and Prowl can have hatebabies together, which is ABSOLUTELY going to happen)

 

Heyyyyyyy, I have a kintsugi fic exclusive happening right here! Because it's from the cdcf, basically, and atm I don't think posting it on ao3 with proper remix-inspiring-credit is worth he kerfuffle it'll cause.

Basically, it's TFP, Starscream and Megatron, with Starscream/Knock Out as a dynamic in the story. Warning for abuser brute-forcing his way back into his victim's life, with some majorly uncomfortable touching going on. 1917 words.

Spoiler: fic

You and Starscream haven’t seen each other in quite some time. Not since peace unexpectedly broke out. You haven’t had reason to speak to him for a while, but you’ve hardly caught so much as a glimpse of him for decacycles.

And why? What reason do you have to avoid Starscream? Even at the pinnacle of his strength, at the nadir of yours, even then you had no cause to fear him. No, if there is a new distance between you, then it must be due to… Starscream. Well. You allow yourself a slight smile. You’ve never allowed him to think he could control you before. You certainly aren’t going to begin now.

You set off immediately. Why delay? You don’t know where Starscream has made his home, but all you need do is ask a passing Vehicon, and he gives you an answer without even a moment’s hesitation. The Autobots may gloat over their victory, over how you have been cast down, but still, you have not been forgotten.

When you reach your destination, Starscream isn’t the one to answer the door. You weren’t expecting Knock Out, but despite your surprise, he looks even more shocked to see you.

You don’t begin the conversation. You are a guest, waiting to be greeted. Let him begin the conversation wrong-footed and unsure. After a moment’s hesitation, he ventures, “My Lord--?”

Ah. You smile. “No lord, Knock Out.” No lord except by the power he voluntarily gives you. And to think, him a self-proclaimed Autobot. For shame! Perhaps he will think on this. Reconsider.

He laughs, nervous. “Of course, my liege—Megatron, I mean. Yes, of course… Megatron. Welcome to our humble abode.” Knock Out takes a step back, waves you inside. “And, ah, how may I—what can I do for you today?”

How may he serve you today, he means. “I’m looking for Starscream.”

Mm. He was already ill at ease, but now he’s worried. He glances towards the back of their home. Not enough to act on, not yet. Unless he decides to be difficult.

“Starscream? Oh, Starscream, yes, ha. I’m afraid you may want to come back later, he’s away right now—teaching the young seekers, you know, and who knows how long they’ll be—”

You stride off towards the back of their home. “Then I believe I’ll go and find him. I’m sure the young ones will be happy enough to have a break from their lessons.”

Knock Out follows beside you. You take long strides, so it takes two steps of his to match one of yours. “My L—, I mean Megatron, I wouldn’t want this to be a bother, why, if you’ll only sit down for a moment, I’m sure I can raise Starscream on the communicator, or drive ahead, let him know you’re coming—“

“Oh no, Knock Out, I wouldn’t dream of inconveniencing you. Allow me.” Their home is a modest one; it only takes a few turns to find your way to their back entrance. The door slides open and you step onto the balcony, and there, just a short flight away, you can see what’s clearly a training field.

As it happens, you don’t even need to go find Starscream yourself. He comes to you. You hear the jet before you spot it high up above you in the sky. He sees you too. You’re a flier, you know unnecessary circling when you see it. He’ll be wondering whether he can run without losing too much face. Perhaps it’s Knock Out skulking behind you that tips him over from cowardice into bravado.

He lands, transforming with a flourish, but you don’t miss the unsteadiness in his wings. You’re still smiling. Why wouldn’t you? It’s an entirely appropriate expression for a friendly social visit like this.

Knock Out tries to slip around you, saying, “Ah, Starscream, as, as you may have seen, we have an unexpected guest—”

You step forward, cutting him off. “Starscream.”

“Megatron.”

He doesn’t bow, but oh, he wants to. And even more than that, he wants to step back, to flee, to turn tail and run. You take another step. You don’t loom, oh no. You just happen to be taller than he is. It isn’t your fault that he has to look so far up to meet your eyes.

You hold his gaze for a moment longer than necessary, then turn away, walk. You admire their home, say a few polite words to Knock Out. It’s only by chance that you happen to circle around behind Starscream. Will he turn to follow? Allow himself to fall into orbit around you, as always? He stands still, his eyes on Knock Out, on his home. But as you pace behind him, you can see the faint shiver in his wings.

“Knock Out.” Starscreams jumps, and again, you can’t help but smile. “I’m sure Starscream is parched, after the work he’s done. Perhaps you might find us some refreshments?”

He sketches half a bow before catching himself. “Why of course, my—Megatron.”

Starscream cuts in with, “Yes, indeed, I’ll help prepare—”

You put a hand on his shoulder. Only the barest touch, but he freezes, motionless. “In fact, Starscream, I was hoping you might show me around your delightful little home.”

He doesn’t have a way to politely refuse. Will he do it anyways? Ignore you? Make an excuse? He hesitates, your hand still on his shoulder. And he buckles. He shakes off your hand as he walks forward and he doesn’t look back at you, but both of you know surrender when you see it.

“This way… Megatron.” You can hear the hole in his speech where he has to stop himself from calling you his lord. “It isn’t a large apartment. This shouldn’t take long.”

No, it shouldn’t. And even if you cared about his home, it wouldn’t take more than a few kliks. But you drag your feet, stopping to examine every little piece of decor, admire every view. Every time he tries to move you onward, you derail him with some inane question, casual and irrelevant. He’s torn between impatience and unease, but he still can’t bring himself to question you.

You’re almost ready to allow him to move you along from his hab suite when you spot the wax sitting on the table next to his berth. There’s a cloth sitting beside it. Starscream is already hovering next to the door, waiting for you, but instead you pause. You pick up the wax, turning it over and over in your hands. From the corner of your optic, you watch Starscream. He’s still torn between impatience and fear. But it’s never taken much to tip him one direction or the other.

You dawdle, and impatience wins the day. He takes a step towards you, saying, “If you’re quite finished, we can—”

As soon as he moves to you, you make your own move. You begin unscrewing the wax. “It must be quite a hardship, trusting your maintenance to someone who isn’t… intimately familiar with what it’s like to have a flier’s frame. Wings are such delicate structures, after all.” You lock optics with him as you reach for the polishing cloth, and he freezes. “Allow me.”

For a moment, you’re almost certain he’ll run. He wants to. You can see it in every inch of him. You can hear the slow, deliberate way he vents before he steels himself, pivots, and turns his back to you.

You’re gentle with his wings. Even more gentle, you’re sure, than Knock Out bothers to be. You reach a hand out to the tip of his wing, the softest contact you can manage, only enough to hold him steady—but you can still feel the way he flinches. You can feel him trembling under your hands as you run the cloth slowly, so slowly, along the leading edge of his wing. You allow yourself a private smile.

This could take the better part of the cycle, if you cared to let it. How long could you keep Starscream like this, tense and braced for pain, trying not to shake as he waits for the inevitable?

You don’t get the opportunity to find out. From the hallway, you hear, “Starscream? L—Megatron? I have those refreshments you asked for.”

Meddling. He should know better, he really should. You’re opening your mouth to tell him that you and Starscream will be down shortly, but Starscream is already shouting over you, “Yes, Knock Out, please bring those right up to, to my hab suite—”

And Knock Out is there faster than a casual walking pace would dictate. He’s no fool, but you’ve done nothing wrong. Will he be the first one to break the pretense of politeness? You’re still smiling, but now you lock optics with him as you pass the polishing cloth over Starscream’s wings. His hands are tight on the platter of energon treats he’s carrying. You can’t see Starscream’s expression like this—but as it happens, you can see the reflection of what he must be feeling in Knock Out’s face. You don’t drop your optics from his.

You do take your hand from Starscream’s wingtip. You feel him tense and shift his weight, but before he has time to step away from you, you take hold of the trailing edge of his wing. You take his flaperon, delicately flex it between two claws, bending it back just barely further than should be comfortable. Only to polish it properly, of course. Your optics are still locked on Knock Out’s face. He looks away first. His optics drop to your hands, and you can see the way he tries to stop his mouth from twitching.

Starscream is still frozen and trembling beneath your hands. But Knock Out shifts his weight, looks up to Starscream’s face. “I don’t want to interrupt this lovely tête-à-tête,” he lies, “But have you forgotten about your next class? The remedial fliers? Remember?” He sighs—too theatrically, but you let it pass. “I’m afraid that if you don’t leave right away, you’re going to be late.”

It takes Starscream a moment to catch on. But he does. Eventually. “I—Yes, of course, how could I be so forgetful—I’ll be needing to go, right away, my most sincere apologies—”

You still have a grip on his wings. You take the time to make two more passes with the cloth before you release him. “But of course. I wouldn’t dream of keeping you.”

He doesn’t even turn to look at you, only runs. He pauses only long enough to clasp Knock Out’s hand before he pushes past him and rushes down the hall. You and Knock Out watch each other until you hear the sound of the door closing behind Starscream, and only then does he step back far enough to give you enough room to get to the hallway.

You don’t resist as he escorts you to their front door. You’ve done what you came here to do. But you can’t resist needling him that little bit further. “You’ll have to tell me how those remedial fliers are doing the next time I stop by, of course. I’ve neglected you for far too long, and I’m sure the three of us have a great deal of catching up to do.”

He bows his head, and it’s as good as if he’d bent his knee. “Of course.”

Spoiler: REVIEW! (negative in spots)

The setup is weak because the original's setup was even weaker and there was a limit to how much effort I was willing to put in. Also, I started it in November, stalled out because new fandom learning curve, and came back to it... today. I didn't even bother trying to edit out the ugly weld line between the November writing and today's writing, though I don't know if it'll be especially obvious to anyone who isn't me. Rough draft equals final copy even more than it usually does for me, and the pacing is rushed because there's limit to how much time I'm willing to waste de-toxifying someone else's abuse-erasing writing. The original was HIDEOUSLY uncomfortable, and this is rushed, but it washes the bad taste out of my mouth.

That being said! I really like enjoy abuse happening while it's wrapped up in a polite, socially-acceptable package. I have a weakness for someone at their lowest point and working so hard to rebuild something out of the ashes-- only to have someone else come around and tear it down again. See: my overwhelming love for Starscream. I fell in love with him in IDW after this, but this was extra appropriate, as it turns out. The deer in the headlights fear reaction is very me, but I don't get to write it often, because it does rather blow apart stories if a person gets to actually run, so this was really fun to play with. Also, gentle touching as abuse. Another thing I love to pieces and don't get to write often.

Plus, I really loved writing Knock Out as a supportive partner, trying to help and protect Starscream, even though Megatron has a really skewed power dynamic with him too. Seeing him work against that and pushing the edges of his own discomfort for Starscream's sake was the biggest thing I wanted to change about the original story. Not him being like 'YEP THAT SURE IS YOUR ABUSER, I'M GOING TO LEAVE THE TWO OF YOU ALONE, OKAY, BYYYYYE.' It's a dynamic I like a lot, and I might return to it in the future. I might even yoink parts of my writing here if I do return to it in the future. I like the way this fic concludes, on a plot-type basis, and with the right setup, the conclusion wouldn't even be all that rushed. Like my Cronus fic, a lot of the weaknesses in mine were part of the integral structure of the original, so because of how much work I was willing to do, they carried over to my writing too :P But there is definitely stuff in here I like that I would enjoy writing about more.

 

I don't have fanfic recs at hand, but also! Remember when Thunderclash came to the ship and Rodimus was all 'look at this decepticon I rehabilitated'

Good times.