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honey-minded-hivemind · 8 months

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For the 🦈SirenSong!AU, it looks like the popular idea is for the reader to be related to Logan, a.k.a. Wolverine! Got to admit, that will be one wild ride. Not to mention, the reader is getting every kid he has adopted/had biologically as their siblings/nestmates, all his friends (the X-Men) as their other protectors and caretakers, AND a few of his enemies/rivals (plus their kids/guppies/pups) as possible villainous uncles/aunts/parent figures/other nestmates.

Some of the possible colors and types of sirens everyone is is as follows:

The X-Men:

• Logan/Wolverine: deep sea siren; larger than regular reef or open ocean sirens, but still small compared to other deep sea sirens; long serpentine tail with a long sail, and long, sharp claws, and fangs; has rippling soft, dusky blue and lemon yellow and ink black scales (Animated Series version) or pumpkin orange and iridescent black scales (Evolution version)

• Ororo/Storm: open ocean siren; lithe and powerful; flowing fins around her tail, similar to an eel, can electrocute someone like an electric eel, can still control the elements; moonstone white and blue scales (Animated Series or Evolution version)

• Hank/Beast: deep sea siren; large and soft; strong tail, a bit of fluff like a yeti crab or fur seal or otter; is fluffy and blue, really strong, but his brains is where his best skills lie; furry with royal blue scales (Animated Series) or midnight blue scales and dusky blue-gray fluff (Evolution version)

• Charles Xavier/Professor X: reef siren; partially paralyzed tail, but has had help from both the X-Men and the Brotherhood, and can use a wheelchair on land; powerful ability to mind control creatures, ranging from humans to other sirens, even some animals; shady forest green and summer yellow scales (Animated Series version) or soft brown, jet black, olive green, and tiny flecks of silver (Evolution version)

• Scott/Cyclops: open ocean siren; strong tail with flowy fins at the end; either hypnotic eyes or still has some form of optic beam eyes; ruby red, navy blue, and sunflower yellow scales (Animated Series version) or garnet red, warm brown, and summer yellow scales (Evolution version)

• Jean/Marvel Girl/The Phoenix: open ocean siren; strong and long tail with a long sail; has telekinesis and can sometimes read minds, possible hidden empath ability; bright orange, sage green, and scarlet scales (Animated Series version) or spinel red, emerald green, and a small streak of golden-yellow along her sides (Evolution version)

• Anne-Marie/Rogue: open ocean siren; toned and firm tail; can mimic/take on other sirens' abilities for a short time, has long nails; auburn, sunny yellow, and vivid green scales (Animated Series version) or moss green, dusky red, bone white, and dark black scales (Evolution version)

• Remy/Gambit: reef siren; a bigger sort, has ruffled fins; can channel power into objects and make them explode, same as usual, possibly has a slightly hypnotic voice; russet red, spinel pink, and coal black scales (Animated Series version) or muted brown, charcoal gray, rusty red, and soft pink scales (Evolution version)

• Kurt/Nightcrawler: reef siren; smaller sort, fuzzy and noodly; can teleport; midnight blue fluff and scales with some red undertones (Animated Series version) or navy blue, goldenrod yellow, and small red specks (Evolution version)

• Kitty/Shadowcat: reef siren; medium-sized, and has many frills along her tail; can turn invisible, like a cuttlefish or octopus, but can sometimes become completely intangible; hazelnut brown and baby pink scales (Animated Series version) or soft lilac, dusky pink, and chestnut brown scales (Evolution version)

• Evan/Spyke: open ocean siren; lean and toned; has sharp spines, and can regrow them if lost, kinda looks like a seprentine pufferfish; he is technically only from Evolution, so his scales would be cream, butter yellow, sandy gray-yellow, and warm sepia

• Jubilation/Jubilee: reef siren; thin and wiry, ruffled sail; can make small explosions/fireworks; technically she has been in Evolution, but was a major player of the Animated Series, so for either version, she looks mainly the way from the Animated Series, human and siren form alike, with sunlight gold and bubblegum pink scales

• Laura/Wolverine 2.0/X-23: deep sea siren mixed with reef siren; smaller than most of the others, even Logan, due to being a siren pup; long claws and sharp fangs; she was from Evolution, that is where we first see her, ever; her scales would be yellow-orange and dusky black, looks similar to Logan

The Brotherhood:

• Erik/Magnus/Magneto: open ocean siren; strong and lean; can control metals, might have once dated/been with Professor Xavier; blood red, steel gray, and violet scales (Animated Series version) or brick red, silver, and wisteria purple scales (Evolution version)

• Raven/Mystique: open ocean siren and reef siren mix; lithe and graceful; can shapeshift into other beings; twilight blue and garnet red scales (Animated Series or Evolution)

• Victor/Sabretooth: deep sea siren; very large, flowing sail; sharp talons and sharp fangs; sunset orange, amber, bright yellow, and umber brown scales (Animated Series version) or caramel golden-brown, velvet black, and tan scales (Evolution version)

• Pietro/Quicksilver: reef siren; lean and thin; fastest of the sirens, on land or in the sea; sky blue and snow white scales (Animated Series version) or opalescent white-blue-green scales (Evolution version)

• Wanda/Scarlet Witch: open ocean siren; average-sized and tough; can manipulate chaos and bend some things to her will; pyrope red and dark rose scales (Animated Series version) or carnelian, scarlet, melanite black, and gray flecked scales (Evolution version)

• Lance/Avalanche: open ocean siren; a bit large, firm; can cause earthquakes; asphalt and blue-gray scales (Animated Series version) or steel gray, rawhide tan, charcoal black, and some golden spots (Evolution version)

• Fred/Blob: open ocean siren; large and thick-scaled; near-indestructible and can absorb a hit and not be harmed; mud brown, mustard yellow, and burnt black (Animated Series version) or army green, khaki, ash gray, and dirty blonde scales (Evolution version)

• John/Pyro: reef siren; a bit shrimpy, but has fast reflexes; can manipulate fire; bright orange and sunny yellow scales (Animated Series version) or fiery orange and brick red scales (Evolution version)

• Todd/Mortimer/Toad: reef siren; really small, has slick scales; long tongue and somewhat amphibious; olive green, murky yellow, and gray-green scales (any version)

Miscellaneous Characters:

• Piotr/Colossus: open ocean siren; giant and sturdy; has skin and scales akin to metal if he wills it; metallic silver, gray, black, and blue scales (Animated Series or Evolution version)

• Bobby/Iceman: reef siren; a bit small, and kinda thin and cold, has frills along tail; can create and manipulate ice; pale ice blue scales (Animated Series or Evolution version)

• Rahne/Wolfsbane: open ocean siren; regular-sized, small bits of fluff; can turn into a wolf (or maybe something like, a seal or walrus or otter for this au?); rusty red-brown and peridot green scales and fluff (any version)

• Illyana/Magik: open ocean siren; lean and mean and a powerful teen; has a portal to and reign over Limbo, a weird, demonic dimension; platinum blonde, soft silver, and electric blue scales (Animated Series or Evolution version)

• Roberto/Sunspot: reef siren; average size, has some sharp barbs along his tail; solar energy powers, turns into a living ember; ember orange, dusky red, and sunlight yellow scales (any version)

• Sam/Cannonball: open ocean and reef siren mix; skinny and long; can fly really fast and tends to crash, hence the nickname; pale blue, off-white, daffodil yellow, and bright red scales

• Dani/Mirage: open ocean siren; small but powerful; can manifest desires, dreams, and fears into the real world; banded onyx scales (any version)

• Tabitha/Boom-Boom: reef siren; tall and lithe; can make small explosives/explosions; bright hibiscus pink, banana yellow, and cherry red scales (any version)

There are others, I know, but these were the ones I remembered (and knew enough about) to list off the top of my head. Some versions I'm more familiar with of certain characters, and y'all can imagine any characters in any media, from the (X)MCU, the anime, the Animated Series, Evolution, even the comics... I did my best, and that is all I can do!😊 Please enjoy this honeycomb thought for the 🦈SirenSong!AU!

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #yandere xmen #platonic yandere wolverine #xmen the animated series #xmen evolution #xmen mcu #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #🦈SirenSong!AU!

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hypnothesis-au · 2 years

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WASA-B RATES YOUR TARTAR ANTI ASMR

(Server shenanigans again, there is no context, only meme)

@fallenagent-au

Is that a syringe tail? Hot. Liquid brains though? Do they make a sloshing noise every time they turn around? That’s hilarious. 7/10, I would shake them like a snow-globe.

(Click to see more Tartar ratings below vvv)

@nameless-octoling

Nice braces dawg, circuitry on fleek. Etc etc. You look like trouble, I like that in a man. Shark teeth supremacy. Somehow, you also look like an English teacher who would lecture me on some random bass symbolism in a book I only read the sparknotes for. 6/10

@lillygoat17

Nice robot bod, I hope that ink section is squishy like one of those gel packs with the sparkles. 8/10 looks bite-able.

@versussashimi

Twink energy. He looks like he’d try to sell me the secret to perpetual energy, then laugh at me when he sees me bankrupt and living under a bridge. Real door-to-door salesman energy. 9/10.

@ratflamt

Made of titanium alloy but still a softie. Why does this guy look like he volunteers at a children’s hospital? Look at this face. Sub energy, as in that substitute teacher you can walk all over. 7/10, I would push his buttons.

@kamabo-reset

Woah, almost cuter than the last guy. Diggin’ the half-shaved look. Seems polite, would poison my wine after paying for dinner. 7/10

@little-creecher

NOODLE ARMS—Ehem. Nice eyeliner, looks like they have that steady surgeon hand, easy 9.5/10. For no reason at all, my number is 410 OC1-V280

@fiery-is-in-pain

…………. Not a robot. Actually. I think this is one of those things the kids call a “meme”. That jawline could kill someone. 0/10, not a robot.

@mekmech

If Doc Ock met a spider, Nice mandibles btw ;) Wanna show me what those arms can do, baby~? Really diggin’ the optical LED sensor, 9/10 good design.

@dj-ai

👁️ One word, smokin’. Lovin’ the nod to Hypnothesis. This gal looks like those bots that try to catfish you on sketchy websites. No actual robo detected though, so ya got some points deducted from the score. 7/10

And last but hardly least, T-vax. 10/10. Spouse material, plant lover, and human knowledge infodumper. Meticulous to a maddening degree. Fun fact: I love space jam, Elvis, Queen, and various other elements of human pop culture of which I am well versed in, T-vax please unblock me on squitter--

#octavio takowasa #splatoon #dj octavio #wasa-b #t-vax #splatoon 3 #memes #I'm so sorry #but also not #<3 #kamabo tartar #tartar

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soundcrusher · 2 years

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Meanwhile, in another Universe

Today, there won't be a part 4 from season 2, but in exchange I will give you this special part set, not in the sentient SG/Lost Light universe, but in the sentient Lost Light au from @cuppajj

I wanted to write something with regular Phoenix since season 1, but didn't find the motivation, until the inspiration train hit me at work.

Either way, please enjoy. ^^

Trigger Warning: I do not know what kind of warning would fit this, but this Special is kind of depressing. At least I think it is.

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He knew it.

He knew it wouldn’t last.

This crew and their ship were just too good to be true.

Everyone was nice, well, at least nicer than his original crew. Even the crew members he didn’t like were still better than those from hislasst ship. At least, they still treated him like a mech and not just a thing useful to bait Autobots.

But now he has messed up everything. If they don’t throw him out for all the pranks he pulled then for his accident with the newest invention from Branstorm and the resulting fire in the lab which spread out into the halls. And he was sure that they would do it. His last crew did it after all. They simply threw him overboard and out into space without even thinking about if he could survive or not. No. All they cared about was to get rid of him. And if that wasn’t enough, they even damaged his wings to make him unable to transform. He still had them though, that was at least something.

But what use would they be, when they were still broken? Yes, the medical staff on the ship could have fixed them, but he didn’t trust them. He didn’t trust anyone here, even if they accepted him into their crew and he liked some of them. Trust was something he has learned to not give away that easily. Not after the things his old crew did. Not after their betrayal. Not after the only mech who he trusted on board his old ship watched him get thrown out of the airlock like some sort of criminal.

Oh, who was he kidding. He already put some of his trust into his new crew, otherwise he would have tried to somehow find a way off his ship himself before they could throw him overboard, and not hide in an empty closet. At least he thought it was a closet. The room he was in was too small to be anything else. Maybe a small berth room for a very small Cybertronian, but that would be it. Or it was just a small storage.

It was enough for him either way. Small, dark, stacked with crates that could hide him from anyone who looked into the room and quiet. He liked the quiet. This ship, at times, was too noisy for him. And with noisy, he meant the crew. He wasn’t used to a big crew such as this one, nor was he used to a crew as friendly as this one. They always seemed to have fun, no matter what, something his old crew didn’t. His original crew was always quiet, when they weren’t shouting at him. So, the crew was a little bit much at first, but he learned to live with that. He learned to accept the noisiness of his new crew, but sometimes? Sometimes he would curl up on his berth, blanket over his head, and try to block out the sounds of the crew. It always felt like he could hear them, or they could see him. He hated that feeling. It made him feel like he was back on his old ship and had to watch out for the next mech or femme entering his too tiny room.

Maybe that’s why he started playing pranks on everyone, once they tried to enter his new berth room. To keep them away from the only space on the ship he truly felt safe in. This was his room after all. It was his, and some of the crew would enter without knocking.

The weird scientist with the briefcase entered without knocking, and he paid him back by putting black ink on his microscope. So that he would have a black ring over his optic, the next time he used it. Or that strange guy with the yellow mouth guard once entered his room without knocking. He got back at him by placing a bucket of glitter over his hab-suite-door. How the bucket stayed up there, he doesn’t know, but the mech never entered his room again.

And then there were the pranks he played for fun. Those weren’t supposed to be mean and he always made up for them. Either by not including them in his next prank, placing some small Energon goodies before their hab-suite, or helping them with their chores. He especially liked to help the Minibots. They were nicer than some of the taller bots. Especially the small white and blue one. He liked him, because he was fun and had a nice friend. The tall purple bunny-mech was one of the taller mechs he liked. Mostly because of the Minibot.

And then there was the cartographer. He especially liked that mech because they didn’t yell at him after his first prank. They didn’t even yell at him after the second, third and fourth. They would only chuckle and pat his helm, before either walking off or trying to strike up a conversation with him. Something that made him suspicious at first, but that slowly turned into trust, after they helped him play a prank on the yellow mouth guard mech. And that trust only grew with each time he met with the cartographer. It was nice to have someone he could trust, who wasn’t the captain, or who could go with him to Swerve’s. He was always afraid to go there alone, especially with most of the crew being there, but it was easier with them.

Them taking him to Swerve’s was also how he met the white and blue Minibots tall and purple friend. He and the cartographer were just entering, when the Minibot spotted him and winked both of them over to his table. Introducing his friend as soon as they were at the table. That day was one of the best he had in a long time.

But he ruined it all now.

They will throw him out now. And the worst part will be, that they probably think he tried to sabotage them. That he did it, because he still was a Decepticon, and not because he tried to help. No. They will throw him out into space and this time he surely will die. He will freeze out there to death, if he doesn’t starve first. Maybe a Sparkeater will even find him and eat his spark, before anything else. At least that would be a less painful death and he would even help someone sustain themselves. Either way, he would still die out there, in the knowledge that his new crew hated him just as much as his last one.

And that thought alone caused the young spark to let out a sorrowful wail, before it dissolved into quiet crying.

He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to lose his room, he didn’t want to lose his crew and he especially didn’t want to lose the only friends he made. He wanted to stay. He wanted to stay with the crew. He wanted to stay with his new family. HE JUST WANTED TO STAY!

“Phoenix?”

The younglings' quiet cries stopped, as he heard Lightlost’s voice.

No, no, no! They weren’t supposed to find him yet. He hasn't even come up with an apology or an escape plan yet. He wasn’t even ready to face any of them yet, especially Lightlost!

So, Phoenix was trying to quickly hide even more behind the crates, only to knock some of the boxes on top of them over. Revealing where he was, even though Lightlost already knew.

“Phoenix? What are you doing back there?” Asked Lightlost, as they started to slowly walk closer to where the young spark was hiding. They could already see him, when a panicked screech of Phoenix stopped them in their tracks.

“Don’t come closer! DON’T COME CLOSER! I’m sorry! I’M SORRY! I didn’t… I didn’t mean to! I didn’t! I didn’t know it would start a fire! I didn’t! Please! Please! Don’t make me leave! I’m sorry! I’M SORRY! STAY BACK!” Cried, no, screamed the youngling, while he tried to scramble even further back into his cover.

“I’m… I’m not moving.” Answered Lightlost calmly, as they raised their servos and slowly sat down where they were. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to come closer. I’ll stay right where I am.”

And that’s how they stayed for a while. Lightlost watching the young spark before them with a concerned expression, as they tried to figure out why Phoenix would think they would make him leave for accidentally starting a fire. Brainstorm has done worse after all. While Phoenix was trying to forcefully stop himself from having a panic attack, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop the shaking, the fear or remembering the reason why his old crew threw him out. And that only seemed to worsen the panic slowly rising within him. Causing Phoenix to let out another round of quiet sobs and cries.

“I… I messed up…” Whispered Phoenix , after managing to calm himself down a little bit. There were still sobs coming from him, but he was calmer. “I… I ruined the… one of the engines… It was… it was an accident… They were old… very old… Runningway ruined them before me and I… I only tried to fix them…But they… they… It didn’t matter… They…”

“They threw you overboard because of an accident motivated by good intentions.” Finished Lightlost for Phoenix, to which the youngling only nodded. “And now you’re scared that the same will happen again. Aren’t you?”

“They did it… S-so… So why wouldn’t you?”

Phoenix sounded broken, scared and small, something Lightlost wouldn’t have expected from him. Yes, they knew that the youngling’s spark was damaged from his former crew, but they wouldn’t have thought that it would be this bad. His old crew truly dug their claws deeply into the young spark and tore it open like wild animals, before leaving it behind to bleed out.

“Oh sweetspark, none of us would ever leave you behind. And even if some would think about it, I wouldn’t let that happen.” Said Lightlost, as they carefully reached out a servo towards Phoenix. Giving the youngest member of their crew a soft smile. “I promise you, I’ll keep you safe.”

Phoenix looked from the outstretched servo up into Lightlost’s optics, before taking it and hugging the cartographer tightly. Pressing himself as close to the other as he could, before muttering a quiet. “I trust you.”

And that’s how they remained for a while. With Lightlost making sure the youngling would feel safe and calm, before they made an attempt to move again. Only to find the youngling fast asleep in their arms. Well, at least Phoenix was feeling safer now, that was all that mattered. And thus started Lightlost’s walk back to the youngspark’s room. Making sure they wouldn’t run into anyone of the crew, before entering the hab-suite and placing Phoenix down on his berth. Tugging him in softly, while making sure the hab-suit was as comfy as possible.

Only then did Lightlost turn around to walk away, but they were stopped by a smaller servo grabbing theirs and a soft, “Thank you”, from a sleepily smiling Phoenix.

“You’re welcome.”

#sentient lost light #phoenix #sentient lost light au #this is the first Special in season 2 #only phoenix is my character by the way!#but seriously #I always wanted to write somthing with regular phoenix and now I finally goot my chance #this was again one of the times were I just let my mind write without thinking much #and I think it turned out well #especially with showing how underneath r/phoenix's troublemaker front lies a hurt youngling #one who needs a hug and someone to tell him everything is going to be fine #like #let that youngspark have a good family!#but keep him away from getaway

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vanana-r0tat3 · 1 year

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Quick question… In the past, did you have a Norman and Sammy AU with Wally as the ink demon?

THE OPTIC INK AU. NO I WAS NOT THE CREATOR OF THAT !! i did draw like a bunch of fanart for it back in the day though i was so obsessed 😭(its linked if youd like to see)

the creator of that au is metamatronic actually!! twas a very fun au

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keaalu · 1 year

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Remember Me, chapter 10

Title (chapter): Remember Me (10)

Series: Transformers, G1-based “Blue” AU

Rating: PG-13

Notes: a further miracle has happened, as Skywarp still isn’t dead! Amazing. Slipstream wishes he’d been let in on the plan, though, because seeing his sire also captured isn’t good on his mental health. Speaking of mental health, Starscream’s isn’t all that great, either.

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…

You know, I think-

I think I might actually still be alive?

Consciousness tiptoed back to Skywarp with the usual flurry of damage alerts. He couldn’t quite put a finger on the point at which just being online segued into becoming aware of his surroundings, but he did immediately know that he didn’t actually hurt quite so much, any more. Small blessings. So long as no critical failure warnings blared in his helm, he was well practised at ignoring little spots of discomfort.

He brought his optics online to find Hook peering warily down on him, still holding the targeting grips of a low-intensity gamma scanner.

The crane’s expression tightened into one of vague disappointment. “Good of you to finally rejoin us.”

Skywarp grunted and shifted his shoulders. Thank Primus – the staples were gone. The pressure on his limbs – and by extension, his wings – had vanished. His wrists were cuffed again, but in front of him, this time. It didn’t precisely give him a lot more freedom of movement, but it was vaguely more comfortable. “Thanks for letting me, I guess?” His voice still had an annoyingly pathetic, watery quality to it from the shock delivered so close to his vocaliser.

“It’s not me you should be thanking.” Unwilling to remain in grabbing distance, Hook stepped back to watch while the Seeker shakily sat himself up and let his thrusters find the floor. “Much as I would have enjoyed being allowed to permanently offline an odious thug like you, Megatron has one more job for you.”

The teleport glanced at him from under hooded brows. “What kinda job.”

“I’m sure he’ll tell you, in time.”

“Great. I’m sure I can’t wait.” Skywarp pushed himself all the way up onto his feet, measuring his balance. He felt a little wobbly still, gyroscopes struggling to keep up, but he figured it coulda been worse, seeing as Primus only knew what Hook had been actually doing. And if he did end up falling down, he could probably take a lurking Conehead with him.

His chassis had picked up a new ache – that low abstract sort of pain of surface-damaged nanites. He gave himself a brief once-over; there were a few bright spots of luminous ink here and there, and laser-engraved lines etched into his enamel, but everything felt suspiciously normal. He gave the scanner a wary look and could see a small, overly-detailed wireframe of his model rotating slowly on a holographic plinth at the far side of the sickbay.

So that was what Hook had been up to – getting a good thorough look at the new schematics. Skywarp felt mildly violated by the idea the crane had been looking at his intimate bits, but successfully held back a shudder. He figured this was the closest the medic had ever got to a New Vosian, seeing as Seekers didn’t generally hang around on the mud ball, these days, and certainly not within grabbing distance of bored Constructicons.

And Hook had at least kind of repaired his shattered inspection glass, in the process, with a neatly-shaped piece of recycled metal, spotwelded carefully into place. Perhaps not perfect, but if it kept him from damaging anything under the crystal Megatron had smashed, Skywarp wasn’t about to complain.

Somewhat camouflaged among all the other dings and scrapes, the teleport noticed that someone had hacked an obscene glyph into his paintwork. Although it carried a variety of modifiers that cast judgement on his dubious heritage, his worthless family, and even the substandard quality of his build, it basically screamed

--Traitor!--

in unnecessarily large characters, gouging all the way through every layer of paint and polish to the ceramic layer of his armour. It spread almost halfway across his upper torso.

Looked like Thrust’s untidy handwriting. So not only graffiti’ed, but by a mech with no idea of penmanship either. Great.

Skywarp tightened his jaw, biting down on a snarl. Against his black exterior, the bright silver composite of his substructure glittered almost as brightly as if he’d had a neon sign implanted there. It’d take more than a bit of polishing to get that out. And he’d be walking around with a slur on his fuselage, for all to see, until such a time as he could get it filled.

Thrust stood smirking on the other side of the medical berth, and flicked his fingers in a goading come-on-then gesture.

“Oh really.” Skywarp arched a brow and leaned subtly towards him. “Fight me, says the mech hiding out of reach on the other side of the berth.”

Thrust advanced three steps before Hook decided he’d had quite enough, thank you.

“If you’re going to brawl, again, take it outside my sickbay.” The crane grabbed the closest wingtip and steered Skywarp into an about-face aggressive enough that he tripped over his own thrusters and fell onto Ramjet. “Perhaps you slack-jawed nimrods would like to finally take our guest down to his accommodation, so I can actually get back to work?”

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Slipstream didn’t like the quiet, much.

Trapped down in the belly of the old warship, there was something oppressive about it; like the air itself had grown heavier. What were his jailors up to? He couldn’t help the persistent thought it meant someone was cooking up some new horror to spring upon him, and they didn’t want him to know about it until it was too late.

Not that he’d be able to do anything about it.

At least Dirge had got bored of using him as his personal punching bag, and was mostly leaving him in peace. (Slipstream accepted it could equally be that he’d been told if you kill the slagging hostages before we’re ready I will boot you out an airlock as well, you useless waste of good tin. But so long as Dirge stayed away? Slipstream didn’t really care why.)

Their routine had grown fairly stable. Someone, usually Ramjet, would deliver Skydash off to him and the two youngsters would sit quietly in the corner, huddled up, conserving energy and emotions. At some unpredictable, unspecified interval, someone – again usually Ramjet – would come back and take the sparkling away again, leaving Slipstream alone to worry what was happening to her.

To be fair, while the younger mech didn’t precisely like Ramjet, he felt a lot more comfortable about it when the white jet arrived to collect Skydash than he did seeing any of the others appear from around the corner. Compared to Dirge, Ramjet seemed overwhelmingly bored by the whole situation. Slipstream sort of almost trusted him not to do anything too hideous to her? After all, even though she was sad and subdued (and full of complaints about a bucket, of all things), Skydash didn’t seem completely traumatised by the situation.

Slipstream hadn’t quite figured out if he felt brave enough to talk to Ramjet about it, yet. If the mech was having second thoughts, he probably wouldn’t talk to an Autobot.

Not yet, anyway.

The sound of approaching chaos drew Slipstream’s attention. Raised voices, the clatter of heavy feet and clash of plating being crunched together. Someone was coming. No; multiple someones.

One of the voices was particularly familiar – and it wasn’t Dash.

Primus.

Alarmed, he rocked up onto his knees, automatically priming his systems in case he’d need to defend himself, just in time to watch an unnecessarily large group of Decepticons march Skywarp past.

It was obviously intended to be unnecessarily theatrical, if the number of ’Cons hustling him along was anything to go by. The exchange of insults by both parties was loud and particularly obscene. Skywarp looked like he’d taken a trip or two through the mill already, but it didn’t appear to be slowing him down.

None of that was what made the youngster’s spark sink, though. It was so subtle, Slipstream first thought it must be his damaged optic playing tricks, and had to replay his visual memory twice to be sure he wasn’t just seeing things:

Skywarp winked at him as he passed.

Actually winked.

So this was all part of some no doubt hastily-constructed terribly-thought-out plan.

Slipstream wasn’t sure if he felt better, or infinitely worse. He sagged back onto his aft, trying to process it.

Talking to Ramjet was going to have to wait.

Dirge hung back and watched the gathering of fellow Decepticons vanish around a corner. “We’re making a pretty nice little collection of you traitors, here,” he drawled. “Just a shame it’s all Skywarps, and no Screamers, yet.” He lounged one shoulder against the wall. “I guess we’ll just have to be patient for a while longer, right?”

“You don’t think he’s so stupid that he’ll come here alone.”

“Seeing as you guys have cornered the market in pure stupidity already?” Dirge shrugged. “Of course not. Or brave enough, for that matter. But if there’s one thing we can always count on the Screamer for, it’s that burning need to prove to everyone how he’s better than Megatron.” He made a noise like clearing his throat, and switched to a passable (if needlessly high-pitched) mimic of the red seeker’s voice; “And make sure everyone knows he is the one true leader of the Decepticons! Which is why he went and joined the Autobots.” He snickered at his own joke. “Point is, him and his bunch of useless deserters are gonna have to do something eventually. I mean, otherwise, someone’s gonna get bored enough to up the ante and start lopping bit off of you lot to post home.” The Conehead snrk-ed. “Maybe that’s your plan all along, huh? Escape us in pieces.”

Slipstream found an interesting bit of floor to focus on. It didn’t sound that much like a joke. “…I’m not sure that would be a very good idea.”

“Well, you should know. Bad ideas run in your family. I mean… case in point?” Dirge thumbed over his shoulder, in the direction Skywarp had been dragged away. He sighed. “Fine. I guess when we finally run out of use for you, we’ll maybe kill you first so as you don’t have to watch us smelt the rest of your family down. Or…” He twiddled a finger in a circular motion. “…whatever it is we gotta do to melt that weird slag you’re all made of these days.”

Slipstream managed a little thank you. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was thanking the Conehead for, but perhaps being submissive would continue to keep him out of trouble. Perhaps even long enough to find out what ill-conceived plan his sire had been working on.

Dirge’s lip curved in a small, amused sneer. “Still polite, huh. Nice to see you’re learning.” He spread his hands, and offered, generously; “Maybe we’ll be able to find a use for you once this slagfest is done, after all. I always wanted a footstool.”

Slipstream watched him go, and quietly resolved that however this ended, it wasn’t going to be as a footrest.

---------------

Skywarp recognised the pokey little cell they’d stopped in front of a lot more than he’d have liked. Intentionally, unpleasantly small – possibly not even double the width of his wings. Enough room to turn around, but not much else. And there was no light; all he’d get was what came in from the corridor, assuming they left it on. The only blessing was the wide front opening.

A crawling sense of unease had spread out to both wingtips. It wasn’t precisely gonna give him a lot of brain-space to work on his plan, not if he was going to have to simultaneously battle the cloying anxiety of being stuck in a little box. He put the brakes on in the doorway. “I think you guys are lost.”

“Naw.”

A big hand came down on the midpoint directly between his wings and delivered a shove.

The limited width of the cell left him no room to pull up out of the unanticipated dive. Skywarp jerked his hands up in an effort to save himself, but not fast enough – he felt his nose crunch against the wall and static shot through his vision. He sagged immediately to his knees with a half-swallowed curse of pain. Why was everyone so determined to flatten his poor face, today.

“We know you little plastic toys don’t do so well in confined spaces,” Blitzwing went on, accompanied by the low fitz of the front screen activating. “So we found you a nice, particularly confined space to overheat in. I figure you remember this place, right?”

Skywarp ignored the taunt. “Aren’t you gonna take these off?” He spread his cuffed hands.

“Ha ha! Don’t be stupid.” Blitzwing wiggled his fingers in a wave, backing up into the corridor. “Toodles.” He disappeared around the corner.

And all the lights went out.

Skywarp waited until the thump of heavy footsteps had faded away completely before venting a long, shaky sigh of hot air. He lowered himself to sit back on the floor. Say what you like about Grounders – it was really hard to fall off a floor.

Okay, Warp. This sucks some serious slag, but you’re alive, right? So let’s just… review the situation. You’re aboard. You’re still mostly functional. You know roughly (ok, very, very roughly) where the kids are. And, they didn’t leave you with a babysitter, so if you play this just right, no-one will know when you escape.

He snorted at himself, and rubbed his temples. Sure, Warp. You got the hard bit out of the way. Now you just gotta escape, find the kids, and get out, without being spotted or dying horribly in the process. Easy peasy.

At least his captors were unwittingly helping him along. The mini tour he’d been given already proved that actually? The Nemesis was pretty unchanged in spite of the vorns that had passed since he was last aboard.

This wing-pinchingly tiny cell, too – he had plenty of not-so-fond memories of being cooped up in here, and had never escaped on his own before. (He consoled himself that he’d just never had a blindingly good reason to. He could totally escape if he really wanted to.) A single highly-dented sheet of sickly purple alloy covered each of the three otherwise featureless walls, with the final side open to the corridor. Subtly crackling energon bars deterred any prisoner from getting too close, but the opening glowed faintly with a forcefield anyway. The annoying tingle of a subspace baffle blocked his view into the quantum universe.

He’d not expected it to be easy, and when couched in terms of spanners dropping into industrial turbines… this was only a little one. Right? If only he could free up enough brainpower to work out how to do it.

He examined his wrists; the cuffs were dented, but a very familiar design – he didn’t like to dwell too hard on the likely fate of the poor glitch they’d stolen them from, but his spark lifted, just a little. These useless fragheads had made a pretty standard mistake. Cuffs were only meant to be temporary restraints, and he’d learned how to hack pretty much all the police-issue ones back home. Thundercracker had said he was the station Houdini, whatever that meant. He could get out of these, no problem.

Dealing with the cuffs could wait at least a breem or two. He had absolute confidence that his former comrades would visit at least probably a hundred times to taunt him, and if he sprang himself free in the first few astro-seconds? They’d spot him and this whole project would be over before it started.

Plus, of course, he was still pretty well slagged, and in no condition to go anywhere until he recharged a little. Escaping was gonna have to wait until he felt a little less sore, humiliated and shaky. While he’d been running hot and scared, he’d not really noticed how depleted he was getting – but now he’d begun to cool, his self-repair had apparently woken up, and a variety of alerts bled static into his vision. “Ngh.”

He turned his attention to his health. His poor nose was a mess; Hook hadn’t even touched it, the sanctimonious glitch, let alone straightened it out for him, and the impact with the wall had compounded it. Using the fingers of one hand, he gingerly nudged it back in place, snarling at himself through the pain. Crystallised energon came away on his fingers, but it didn’t immediately start bleeding again. Small mercies.

Now to top up those depleted batteries. Unless they’d remodelled the place, there was a power cable accessible just under the wall, between the alloy panel and the more solid bulkhead behind. Everyone knew it, and everyone who’d been unfortunate enough to have to spend a few orns down here had used it. It wasn’t exactly high-voltage, but that little bit of clean electricity would get his aching systems topped up well enough.

Using both hands, he ripped up the edge of the panel and sure enough, a well-beaten, seriously-frayed power cable still ran along the floor behind it, held down only with a length of insulating tape and a handful of long-since-broken clips. “Ah, Primus. Thank you for never bothering to fix this, you lazy glitches.” The clips readily gave way to a little tug. Stripping the end, he held it against the charging port on the lower side of his torso until it accepted it, pulling it in, hardware automatically tweaking the bare ends of the wire so they’d fit comfortably.

Skywarp let his leaden hands fall back into his lap, and let all his motors unwind, melting quietly back into the wall, wings drooping with a little sigh of displaced air. It wasn’t completely totally overwhelmingly dark, and sitting down here, he had a decent view of his surroundings. The small, pinchy cell didn’t feel so overwhelmingly tiny.

Hold it together, Warp. You can hold it together. Just a little longer.

---------------

-he resting?-

Skyfire peered around the open door into Starscream’s lab. The interior was unlit, save for the viewscreen, which flooded the small room with harsh blue light and even harsher shadows. The room’s single occupant sat in front of it – upright, but perhaps only just.

Skyfire wanted to reply with honestly, you know him better than anyone, so what do you think, Thundercracker, but reasoned that it was probably as much a plea for him to persuade their wingleader to get some downtime as it was a genuine question. Wasn’t like anyone in the building could miss the stress still permeating every atom.

Instead, he just replied -don’t think so. see what i can do- and edged carefully into the room.

Starscream sat with his head propped on one hand, staring blankly at the screen. It was caught on the most recent footage Megatron had sent them – Warp taking an absolute slagging, pleading for his life in a puddle of his own essential fluids. Skyfire wasn’t sure what the scarlet mech thought he’d be able to glean from watching it, like this, over and over. Perhaps it was just helping him keep his focus. Perhaps he was just looking for reassurance that Skywarp was probably still alive.

“You’re not even processing anything, right now, Star,” Skyfire said, approaching cautiously with his hands wide. “Why don’t you come and get some rest.”

“Rest? Like Warp is no doubt getting right now? Huh. I don’t need to rest,” Starscream protested, the muzziness in his voice immediately betraying his confidence. He wiped his face with one hand. “I need to figure out how to get him out of there. Him, them. All of them.”

“You’ll be no use to anyone unless you get some downtime.” Skyfire reached over his head and turned the screen off. True to form, Starscream immediately protested, straightening and reaching for the screen – which was what Skyfire had wanted. He carefully caught both smaller hands in his much larger ones, and just held them until the seeker stopped squirming. “So I’m telling you: either you go offline by yourself, or I can sedate you.”

“That’s not even a choice, Skyfire.” Starscream jerked on his hands, but they may as well have been set in iron manacles. “This is too important. I’m not going to be drawn into your little insurrection.”

“Well, that’s good, because I wasn’t requesting an evaluation from you. I’m just telling you what to do.”

The jet muttered something unintelligibly poisonous but slumped back against him. “Fine. When Megatron comes here and kills us all, at least I’ll be awake enough to recognise what’s going on.”

In spite of the protests, Starscream was offline almost immediately. Typical. Skyfire reconsidered what he ought to do; moving away would topple his friend clean off his stool, but attempting to pick him up would probably just bump the fractious seeker awake again.

Thundercracker’s voice brushed his comm. -he resting?-

-finally- Skyfire smiled, sadly, and prepared for what could be a very long night spent standing up.

#transformers #blue au #skywarp #slipstream #starscream #skyfire

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catastrophicclouds · 3 years

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This is my first time making fanart for an artist, so I hope you like it :D.

I’ve always enjoyed Metamatronic’s Optic Ink AU and the Vampire AU that’s based off of it. After seeing so many different AUs of BATIM, I was kind of tired of the game and needed a breath of fresh air, but this pulled me right back into it. Thank you for making such a cool storyline and amazing art!

Have a drawing of Norman :). He’s my favourite character.

@metamatronic

#metamatronic #BATIM #bendy and the ink machine #optic ink au #vampire au #fanart #Norman Polk

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the-bisexual-dumpster · 5 years

Photo

i thought i had a type but uhh guess its just cute girls

@metamatronic

#dumpster sketches #batim #bendy and the ink machine #linda stein #optic ink au #vampire au #fanart #i used to think it was nerds but damn i was so smitten for linda #the moment i saw this design i just picked up my pen cus INSPIRATION #also shes reminding me of that im a rebelious child now my life be like oo ah vine #is that how it goes

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zoeyandguys · 5 years

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Here's a picture I made of @metamatronic and mine verisons of Murray Hill. More people need to know of him/them!

(unless they do and I just haven't seen it)

#bendy and the ink machine #murray hill #optic ink au #zoeyandguys #metamatronic #gift art #crossover

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metamatronic · 1 year

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I think the fandom may be dead but take a comic anyways. I missed drawing Smay, he’s great.

pt. 2

#batdr #batim #sammy lawrence #audrey drew #audrey batdr #bendy and the dark revival #bendy and the ink machine #the projectionist #norman polk #batdr spoilers #art #comic #doodles #optic ink au #optic ink #lensey #long post #smay

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arturo-giles · 5 years

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Forgive me for this

Characters:

Brunette Jack: Mine

Braid Jack: @48128

That Other Jack: @metamatronic

Jack Fain belongs to theMeatly

#jack fain #SillyVision Studios #optic ink #optic ink au #48128

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insane-control-room · 5 years

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Broken Back and Forth, Monster To and Fro

Bertrum was... complicated. He never was human to begin with, and now...

monster.

(set in the optic ink au [my horrible interpretation of it at least], inspired by Mechanical Heart by @queenofcats17)

Back and forth.

Bertrum paced the small room, his arms folded, the others going back and forth. He had more than two arms, and he hated the six extras. All they did was destroyed, crushed, and wrought ruin as they snapped back and forth.

He hurt everyone around him and pushed them away, and then he’d let people in and they’d die, and it was back and forth.

It always hurt. Not just his physical, heavily modified body, but an additional emotional longing. Just to be liked, or cared about, yet at the same time a desire to be left alone. A back and forth. Bertrum never was the person to have many friends, and most he had, he had also seen them fade away and vanish, die and be killed. Back and forth, people came in and out of his own long life. He lived and could live much longer than any human could, and his outlandish lifespan was extended by Drew’s… little project.

A ride?! And his least favorite at that, the one he slaved over the most for balance and imbuing it with all his power, the one he absolutely wished was a simple project despite his love to challenge himself, the one he argued over the name with for ages, him wishing to call it the Spider and Joey deciding on the Whirling Willow (Wilbur had been unimpressed). It went back and forth. He could not always feel the inked appendages behind him, but he always heard the mechanical screeches and saw them flinch before him every so often. Back and forth. When he could feel them they hurt and ached, and burned to move.

He was alone for a long time.

And then Lacie came back to him. She was changed as well, looking like a circus actress but made of metal. An animatronic.

He cursed himself for even thinking up such a machine.

But she did not mind, she never cared. She was with him in the then and in the now, and now their lives could or would be the same length until they would rust.

He was uncertain how he felt about it.

Forth…

On one hand, he was overjoyed. He loved hir with all his heart (or mechanism), and was glad and thankful to spend any time with hir at all. She was his rock, his lifeline. And he loved hir.

And back…

On the other hand, he was distraught and self persecuting. He always wanted to live alongside hir, and near their deathless demises, they had lived together, in the same house, but were just carefully edging around each other, still friends, both torn between having each other as more or remaining at the balance they had found. Was his wish that she could live for the same amount of time as him the cause for their robotic shift? Was it his fault she no longer was human?

A whirl snapped him out of it, his extra limbs creaking and jerking. Back and forth, faster and faster. Pain shot through his back with their motions, collapsing him to his knees on the floor. He gasped, ink spilling out of his eyes in agony as his ‘arms’ lashed out, writhing and wreaking anything in the room.

Back…

Not again!

He always broke everything.

He was broken. A fallen god. A torn goddess. Bertrum and Hedon--

And forth…

Bertrum. Bertrum Piedmont. Alive.

He shook as he waited to ride out the anguish, falling forward into a bow as mechanical limbs shattered glass, tore up floorboards, and destroyed cloth.

Back…

Monster.

That’s all he was. A monster. Back and forth. Doomed to desecrate and desolate.

He gripped the ground as his tears formed a puddle beneath him, seeping into the wood, and spilling back from his eyes, renewing the inky splotches. Back and forth.

And back…

Twisted.

He once knew for certain that he was not Hedone, and never should have been her, but now he could not tell if this was the other gods’ punishment for not being who he was.

He grit his teeth, hating himself for even allowing a sliver of doubt to slip past him just for one small pain.

Forth…

No. He. Yes. Male. He, him, his. Back and forth. That is who he is. Not she. No. Hedone was a mistake. He was Bertrum.

And forth…

Lacie helped him keep that a part of himself. She kept him going and repaired him, and sometimes he could return the favor for hir.

An arm shattered a lightbulb, shocking pain lacing up into his body, back and forth, in and out, making him scream. He covered his mouth, shaking and crying. Footsteps came close, in and out of his ringing hearing, obscured by his screeching limbs, and all he could do was curl in on himself and wait to be found, and he was terrified that whoever might find him would get hurt. He would tear them apart without wanting to, in and out. So he was immensely relieved when the extraneous limbs tired. The footsteps hurried toward him, and he felt panic rising. He was a monster, he could kill them.

“Hey, uh, Bert?”

No no no Wally go away, you’re going to get hurt….

“Mr. Piedmont?”

Thomas, run, you foolish mechanic, please save yourself….

“Are you alright? Can I get a yes or no?”

Why are you like this, Sammy? Go, be happy with the loves of your life, and write amazing and sweet songs, don’t get torn to shreds….

“GO AWAY!” he shrieked, finally jolting up and scrambling back, the mechanical appendages screeching alongside his voice, in and out. “STAY AWAY FROM ME! I’M A MONSTER, RUN! BE SAFE, GO AWAY!”

The three boyfriends flinched back, Thomas and Sammy gripping Wally’s hands with their gloved ones (to avoid getting inked).

“Let’s get Lacie,” Thomas quietly suggested. NO, do NOT bring hir! “She usually can calm him down, right? I… I’m honestly worried about him….”

“Don’t worry about me, just go and leave!” Bertrum shouted, his false arms snapping to the wall and cracking holes in the wood, in and out. “Go away, I’m going to hurt you!”

“We’re goin’ an’ gettin’ Lacie,” Wally replied, pressing a kiss to the top of Thomas’s head (using his new height to his advantage). Bertrum yelled incoherent protests, drowned out by his limbs’ screaming. “C’mon Sammy. Or do you wanna stay an’ try ta keep him… in this room.”

“Nope,” the musician squeaked in a plain answer, gripping Wally’s arm with all his might. Which was a lot. “Let’s go find hir. Like, right now. Bertrum is… Bertrum is scaring me.”

“I SHOULD BE!” he roared, his arms crashing into the walls and leaving more gashes, twitching back and forth. “I’M DANGEROUS, STAY AWAY!”

“We’re getting help for you, Bertrum,” Thomas told him. The man-turned-park-ride inhaled sharply with a strangled and choked noise, appendages retracting to attack the ceiling and writhe around their owner. “Please just stay here. We’ll be back, we promise.”

“NO!” he shouted at them, his rear arms poised to strike, in and out. “Do not come back! Never come back! That’s how you can help!”

“Well,” Sammy looked at his boyfriends. “We’ll be bold enough and let you know we disagree. You need some real help.”

“Monsters. Don’t. Need. help.” he growled, mechanical ligaments snapping to and fro. “I’m a monster. You need to take care of yourselves and each other, but not a monster!”

“Ya ain’t a monster, Mr. Piedmont,” Wally solemnly retorted. “You just are in a lotta pain. We all are. We’re gettin’ ya Lacie now.”

As they left, the door became covered in ink.

“It’s for your own good, Mr. Piedmont,” Thomas’ voice was muffled. “You’re not locked in there, but we need you to stay safe.”

He tore into the floor and walls, ink stinging his metallic bones. They boxed him in. He screamed, ripping apart everything he could.

He eventually curled up next to the door, like a caged animal wishing to escape but without the strength or means. A while later, he paced the room again, back and forth, the door no longer covered in ink. He should run, in and out, he knew he shouldn’t put anyone in danger, but a part of him anchored him there.

The door opened, Lacie rushing in. Bertrum yelped and his robotic limbs jerked toward hir menacingly, but he rushed back before they could reach hir and tear hir apart screw by screw.

“S-stay away!” he ordered, but his voice wavered and broke, back and forth. Lacie approached him a little more, glancing at the three men in the doorway. She shooed them to go. “I’m warning you!”

“Bertrum.” She walked slowly and steadily. “Are you alright?”

“NO! Stay back! I’m a monster!”

“No you’re not, Bertie.”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”

“What should I call you, then?” she challenged. “Monster?”

“That’s what I am.”

“Prove it,” she demanded, smirking. The smile faded as Bertrum’s secondary arms acted as legs, lifting him above the ground to loom over hir, back and forth. She forced a laugh. “Ha! See? You’re not a mon-STER!”

Bertrum had grabbed hir by the straps of her overalls, hauling hir in the air. She stared at him with wide eyes, and he looked down at hir with a blank and empty expression.

“Say that again, I dare you.”

“You’re not a monster,” she replied. He ripped through the floor, stalking to a wall and shoved hir against it, holding hir in place. “You’re still not a monster, Bertrum.”

Roaring, he tore through wood and metal and destroyed whatever he hadn’t already in the room. He was breathing harshly, still pinning hir to the wall.

“I don’t see a monster, Bertrum. I see the same you you were, lost and lonely and hurting. You don’t have to be lonely anymore.”

His hands shook, so he gripped the denim and aluminum tighter.

He used his mechanical arms to sit hir against the wall, removing his personal hands. Back and forth. Lacie looked back at him. He pushed some of hir curls from hir face.

“Try telling me I’m not a monster now.”

His lips pressed against hirs, soft and rough all at once. His air was hot on hir cheek, his moustache tickling hir slightly. One of his hands held hir wrist, tight, the other resting on hir side, his thumb going back and forth gently. Behind him, his highest of the extra arms shaped a heart. She stared at him. Bertrum Piedmont, the man of no feelings (a blatant lie everyone pretended was gospel), was kissing hir, and she wasn’t responding?! Blasphemy!

Just as he was about to pull away from Lacie, she wrapped hir free arm around his neck, pulling him back to hir lips, slightly opened. Back and forth. He felt black tears running down his face, staining his cheeks, the ink dark and cruel, but she still, despite his monstrous body and tortured being, she kissed him.

They pulled back after Lacie needed air. Bertrum’s inverted eyes studied hir, worried for hir mental health and spilling self loathing. She cupped his cheek, wiping away black tears with hir thumb.

“Ya not any monster,” she told him, and he gawked at hir, shocked. Then he growled and slammed their lips back together again, biting and nipping, all teeth, but still soft and gentle, not wanting to hurt hir in the slightest, giving hir ample room to back out. Hir heart ached as he hesitated before pressing back into the sweetest of kisses. Did he think that letting his pent up emotions out made him a monster? She ran hir hand, released from Bertrum’s grip, through his hair, calming him. In and out. He rested his chin on hir shoulder. She ran hir hand over his back in little soothing circles and through his ink like hair, ruffling it and pushing it back. Back and forth. “Showing that you care doesn’t make you a monster, Bertrum. Showing how you feel makes you… well, a person. We all have needs and desires, and when they’re not met, we get upset. It’s okay.”

His knees buckled, his hand gripping hir sleeve as he sank, sagging against hir, his head slipping down to press his forehead against hir shoulder in sobs. She pressed a kiss to the side of his head, trying not to cry hirself. His shaking slowed, turning to little tremors.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his tears spilling down his face. She hugged him tighter. “I’m sorry I’m a mons--”

“Nope,” Lacie cut him off. “You’re not a monster.”

He wrapped an arm around hir, pulling himself up to hug hir.

“Please… please help me,” Bertrum whimpered. She nodded, hugging him back tightly. “I-I love you, Lacie.”

“Aw, Bertrum…” she rocked with him, back and forth. “I’ve known for a long time, my Bertie….”

“Y-you’re not mad?” he wondered, incredulous, pulling back to look at hir, his gold eyes drowned in black searching hir desperately. “D-do you… l-love me too?”

“Yes, Bertrum,” she murmured, kissing his brow. Bertrum stared at hir before crumbling into tears of pure emotion. She rocked him, back and forth, holding him close. “Bertrum, I love you.”

She lifted him in hir mechanical arms, holding him aloft bridally, him resting his head against hir bicep, hir immense strength and power grown exponentially in her animatronic form. Lacie carried him down the halls with a brisque nod to the trio that retrieved hir, swaying back and forth with Bertrum, setting him down carefully on the bed they would swap every other night (or when they’d assume it was night), in and out. Bertrum immediately curled up, making himself into a ball, using his extra limbs to pull the blanket over himself. He always slept like that for as long as he could remember. Lacie thought it was adorable. She chuckled softly, laying down beside him, pulling him close, tucking his head under hir chin, pulling hir knees up to cradle Bertrum.

Lacie let hirself shut down when Bertrum’s rushed breathing and quieted sobs faded. They let each other comfort themselves.

Bertrum woke groggily on his back instead of side, still tired enough to sleep, but a pressure was on his chest, warm and rising and falling. Lacie’s head was pressed to his neck, hir warm processed air gently tickling his collar. He wrapped his arms around hir, his true arms, kissing the top of hir head. As for the rest of hir body, she was splayed over him, limbs on either side of him. He slowly raised them both on his back arms, the blanket still on top, and began rocking them both back and forth, like a child’s basket might.

Just to and fro. Back and forth. Breathing in and out.

He fell back asleep to the genteel motion and Lacie’s breath.

Maybe his extraneous arms could be used for something after all.

Back and forth.

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