CeruleanSparkFlowers



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    When a meditation with the Matrix of Leadership reminds him of the Prime's priestly duties, Optimus decides to hold the Rite of Prima's Blessing: an ancient ritual devoted to connection, unity...and the Prime's submission to all Cybertronians.

    (Warnings abound, so please read the headers.)

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    Megatron leaned forward, hissing, "I should call your bluff and bring the entire Decepticon army. What would you do then, Prime?"

    The thought was...more than a little intimidating, but the Matrix, as it had taken to doing lately, pulsed supportive warmth along his circuits. Optimus reset his optics, slowly, letting a smile creep into his voice. "I have a few ideas."

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    08 Nov 2025

  2. Public Bookmark 28

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    The life of a Vehicon is—as they say—exciting and—as a given—short. XL-917 mostly expects to die when chucked through a definitely malfunctioning space bridge, especially when it immediately lands him in the middle of more Autobots than he's ever even seen. Also they're all kinda... off. Uglier than he remembers? All small and square and acting like they don't casually dismember Vehicons every week. He’s pretty sure someone was supposed to have cut him in half at this point—but given they haven’t, it’s probably going to be a bad day.

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    08 Nov 2025

  3. Public Bookmark 55

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    It's been a while since she's heard his voice. His scolding tone, likely an unconscious paternal habit, coaxes out a tired smile. "What are you still doing awake at this hour?"

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    Interviewing SecUnit is a stressful exercise. Bharadwaj, suffering insomnia, calls up a friend.

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    05 Nov 2025

  4. Public Bookmark 37

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    "Before you ask, I'm not going to be your plus-one."

    Three blinked once, very deliberately, and said, "I know. I didn't intend to ask you."

    "You weren't?"

    -

    Three is going to Preservation Station Security's holiday party. Murderbot was not invited.

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    05 Nov 2025

  5. Public Bookmark 18

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    "Mary," he says, voice raw.  He can feel his body repairing itself, each stitch making his hunger sharpen.  He doesn't think he'll ever be full again.  "S'not your fault."

     

    She stiffens.  "Never said it was, did I?"

     

    "Well, it ain't mine."

     

    She wipes at her face, just a flickering brush of a hand.  "Never said that neither."

     

    "Didn't have to."

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    14 Oct 2025