GOOD THINGS, SMALL PACKAGES

ANGST VERSION

1-50

roughandtumblebee replied to your post:♤

[[ouch!]]

HYE have you ever?

FMK fuck marry kill

KHC kiss hug cuddle

NML a night, a month or for life?

AMA ask me anything

HON hot or not?

WWY well would you?

WYR would you rather? 

TOD truth or dare?

SMW ship me with?

TOT this or that?

WIS who I ship? (with myself, or with others — specify) 

Bee wrenched at his leg, but the wreckage trapping it was too heavy to move at all. He curled up, hoping to present a smaller target to the seekers swooping overhead, praying that they’d think him dead and move on.

Slowly the skies began to clear and only a few of the deadly flightmechs were left patrolling the area. Bee tugged at his leg again and then began attempting to cut the wreckage to free himself. The small laser he carried on him wasn’t very powerful, but it melted the metal in any case. He pulled again, gasping with pain, but hearing the metal creak loudly. Soon he’d be free!

He was too busy trying to cut away the last of the stuff trapping him to realise that he was being watched. Only the heavy thud of the seeker landing behind him made him turn, energon-slick hands fumbling his blaster.

"Don’t shoot!" he begged the blue mech. "Don’t- oh!"

Red light glittered in the shards of the ruined city. Bee followed it back to his own chestplates, very slightly parted and emanating red.

Protocol was clear in such a case: Kill the mech before you could get attached, let alone bond. Go to a medic for some painkillers until your spark recovered from the loss of its resonating force.

But Front found he couldn’t justify the kill. Had they been in the middle of a fight, had the other had a chance, he might have been able to. But the little mech was trapped and had basically begged to be spared. 

But the seeker didn't seem all that willing to end his life. Was it possible that he might get out of this alive?

"What's your name?" he asked, trying to stop his voice from shaking. "Mine's- ah-!" (the metal trapping his leg had shifted, cutting a little deeper) "- mine's Bumblebee."

Small one…

She sniffs, letting her tail flick from side to side, spreading her scent about the small cave that she has chosen to bed down in for the night. Her kill, or what was left of it, lingering by the wall.

No, she does not mind.

Being kept.. wouldn’t be so bad, he supposes. As long as he doesn’t have to be this clean all the time. And even that wouldn’t be too terrible. His own chest begins to vibrate as his purring rises in response to her own.

When he is clean enough (to her rather exacting standards), she changes from a grooming lick to a comforting one. Leaving his fins and nosing against him gently, chuffing, and licking along the joints to his wings.

His front paws have begun to knead at the ground in reflex as the licking becomes soothing, and he finds his eyelids drooping. Being groomed for pleasure is very relaxing. But something's not right.. he crawls to a better place.

Send “Flesh” for my muses reaction to your muse pushing them up against a wall and biting their neck.

Bee squeaked in surprise, his hand automatically reaching for his blaster. Why had Blue pushed him? Decepticons? An attack? A-ah- oh.. apparently not. He tucked the gun away and grabbed at the Datsun’s shoulders, tipping his head back.

Yep. He totally heard and fully understood what Blue just said to him. Total comprehension.

...Okay, so, with his horns being sucked on like that? Yeah, he pretty much couldn't think of anything else. Still, his processor came back to him a little and he found himself being kissed, which was fine by him.