verba volant, scripta manent

cataradical:

cataradical:

Since some people showed interest, I’ll write up the guidelines:

1. I’m offering one fic over 2k words or two shorter fics for $10. I’m trying to get all these fics out at least before the week is up or next week. I don’t mind being paid after I write the fic, but if you want to pay me before/in advance, that’s cool, too. I’m just trying to get this stuff done before Monday the 24th.
2. I’m currently only really writing Transformers stuff, simply because it’s the fandom I’m most into and easier for me to focus on. I can write for G1, MtMtE, Animated, Prime, and Bayverse. Anything else I’m rusty on - Beast Wars I can do. I can write Drift, but I never read his miniseries, so anything with Wing or what-have-you I cannot do, sorry. :C
3. I do not write noncon (dubcon is okay), bestiality, scat/urine play, underage stuff.
4. I commonly don’t write sticky, but because this is ~special~, I’m willing to give it a shot! I just won’t use ‘spike’ and ‘valve’ because t-those terms… (Cord and port will be used.)
5. I do write slash, femslash, gen, dark stuff, guro, tentacles, fluff, silly stuff… If you’ve something specific in mind, ask and we’ll work something out.
   

I’m going to go nap because I’m sick and haven’t slept very good lately, BUT if interested or you have any questions, send me an ask via cataradical or vividambrosia. If I don’t get back to you within a day, it means I have not received the ask, in which case try re-sending it and/or send it to my email, cheshireneko @ gmail . com.

I’d appreciate any reblogs to get the word out, but it’s not mandatory, of course. C:

sorry for spammin’ this so often, but i’ll be closing commissions tomorrow, so if you’re interested, that’d be great!

Second commission fic for my friend, Asie! She wanted something with her fc, the great and wonderful and awesome and amazing Amputron being his creepy self, with bonus Ambulon. In the end, I took some inspiration from Hannibal, a show we both enjoy. ;)

So, rated PG-13 for very mild gore and vore squick, as well as mild sexuality. This takes place pre-war, and Ambulon is young and fresh at the medical academy, with Amputron, a seasoned doctor, as his roommate. OH BOY. Word count is 2377.

Oh, and I’m still taking commissions. *wink wonk*

—-

The Cybertronian - filed as #AB7423 - was in deplorable condition. The fact his limbs and head had been twisted up in knots was one thing, but he’d been left out to bake in the heat for nearly two days now before a few unlucky sods stumbled upon his body. Though the torso remained relatively intact, for which Amputron was very, very grateful.

The morgue was a frosty cold, and eerily quiet, save the tinkering of medical instruments. Amputron was completely alone, just as he preferred it. He turned to face the corpse spread out on the slab, a solemn, almost bored expression on his face, one optic a shade paler than the other. With ease, he tore open the corpse’s chest plating, rusted metal squealing piercingly in the cold room.

Amputron stretched his mismatched fingers until they clicked and cracked. First rule of business: thrust hands into corpse, examining the insides. As he felt around, most of the organs were intact, though some were beyond saving. He cursed to himself; two less organs to sell on the black market then. Oh, well. People still paid a mighty fine price for working, stable fuel pumps and t-cog.

He withdrew his hands, coated in oil and lubricants. Still relaxed, Amputron reached over and pulled the tray of tools over. Momentarily debated which instrument to use before settling with the scalpelsaw; it was one of his own inventions. It was basically a hand held, pocket chainsaw. He switched it on, the spinning blade hissing and whirring loudly. The medic went to work semi-carefully cutting through circuits and pumps, ignoring the fluids splattering along his chest and face. Hummed as he worked.

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Whoop whoop, second fic in one day. This is not a commissioned piece, but gift fic for xenotechnophile, since today is her birthday! As such, here is some silly Trailbreaker/First Aid for you. I’m giving it a PG-13 rating for sexuality of the tactile/pnp sort, but beyond that, it’s pretty damn tame. Takes place during MtMtE, but before Trailbreaker’s Spotlight. (As he’s still going by Trailbreaker in this.)

Hope you enjoy, and have a great birthday!

—-

It had been a very rough night for First Aid and Trailbreaker.

The shuttlecraft shot down by lightning and hurled into the raging alien sea below was one thing. The fact the storm progressed into hurricane winds and tsunamis was only the icing on the cake. The cherry on top was the fact they were stranded, and all attempts to call for help were scrambled by the horrid weather.

Though, it was not to say the two Autobots were completely helpless.

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And it is done!

Here is a fic commissioned by gunthatshootsennui. He wanted something Brainstorm/Atomizer, and I threw in tentacles with his permission. Be warned this is sticky, something I usually don’t write. But it was my choice, and one I felt was more fitting, given the context. So, if you’re uncomfortable with sticky, don’t read. … Actually, if you’re uncomfortable with starfish sex, you probably don’t want to read, either. Either way, I’m posting it here on my DW account instead of my primary account on LJ, just ‘cause. >=C

As such, this is rated M for sexuality of crazy sorts as well as mild profanity.

This was, however, fun to write! Such silly dorks. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic, Ennui! Word count is a little over 2730.

Oh, and I’m still taking commissions. *wink wonk*

—-

With the way Brainstorm was humming, walking to his room with a cheerful stride in his step, and the briefcase clutched in his hand, it appeared as if he were returning from a nice day at work. So very happy and carefree, his head bobbing to the rhythm, yellow optics squinted into smiles. Brainstorm greeted the few who passed him, most of who just ignored him, while some gave him incredulous looks.

A bouncy, happy-go-lucky Brainstorm did not bode well for the most part. There’d be an explosion of some sort or everybody would be turning into cats that night. Surely something predictably unpredictable would take place because Brainstorm was in a great, spunky mood. An accomplished one, which was even more nerve-racking.

No one dared ask him what was in that large, covered cylinder he was carrying.

Brainstorm was oblivious to the whispers and gossip about him behind his back. That, or he simply did not care. It was not like him to give a damn what people thought of him or his work, anyway - well, okay, maaaybe that wasn’t completely true. But! Let them talk, they were all inferior and jealous. Above all, though, their fear was misplaced, because Brainstorm had not created some newfangled invention that may or may not of displaced all time and space.

Rather, it was something a little more… personal. A little more private.

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Current commissions:

• Brainstorm/Atomizer for gunthatshootsennui
• Amputron/Ambulon for aatropos
• YOUR slot here ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

cataradical:

Since some people showed interest, I’ll write up the guidelines:

1. I’m offering one fic over 2k words or two shorter fics for $10. I’m trying to get all these fics out at least before the week is up or next week. I don’t mind being paid after I write the fic, but if you want to pay me before/in advance, that’s cool, too. I’m just trying to get this stuff done before Monday the 24th.
2. I’m currently only really writing Transformers stuff, simply because it’s the fandom I’m most into and easier for me to focus on. I can write for G1, MtMtE, Animated, Prime, and Bayverse. Anything else I’m rusty on - Beast Wars I can do. I can write Drift, but I never read his miniseries, so anything with Wing or what-have-you I cannot do, sorry. :C
3. I do not write noncon (dubcon is okay), bestiality, scat/urine play, underage stuff.
4. I commonly don’t write sticky, but because this is ~special~, I’m willing to give it a shot! I just won’t use ‘spike’ and ‘valve’ because t-those terms… (Cord and port will be used.)
5. I do write slash, femslash, gen, dark stuff, guro, tentacles, fluff, silly stuff… If you’ve something specific in mind, ask and we’ll work something out.
   

I’m going to go nap because I’m sick and haven’t slept very good lately, BUT if interested or you have any questions, send me an ask via cataradical or vividambrosia. If I don’t get back to you within a day, it means I have not received the ask, in which case try re-sending it and/or send it to my email, cheshireneko @ gmail . com.

I’d appreciate any reblogs to get the word out, but it’s not mandatory, of course. C:

cataradical:

guys if i opened fic commissions - $10 for over 2k words or two fics for $10 - would anyone be interested?

Another Spinister and Krok ficlet using prompts borrowed from 30_touches.

PROMPT: Asleep; Strain
WARNINGS: Nothin’.

—-

It started out as a small ache that came and went. Lasted perhaps a few seconds to a single minute then just… stopped. Maybe an hour or two hours later, it’d come back, throb a minute, disappear. The process repeated, and for at least two days. It never really concerned Krok, as he and his crew had been running low on fuel the past week, and this was perhaps just his body’s way of reminding him he needed to replenish his dry systems.

Except by day three of the minor ache, and after promptly refueling, the pain increased. It lasted for nearly five minutes in duration now, and when it stopped, it returned quickly after. What was just a little tickle every now and then was getting itchy and uncomfortable. It started as a small nerve pinch at the nape of his neck; now, the pain felt more biting and hot, spanning up to the base of his cranial chamber.

Four days with this pain in Krok’s neck, and it was only getting worse.

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Okeefordokee, I posted the Spin/Krok fanfics I’ve been writing on AO3. Gradually adding more to the collection over time. Only two have been posted thus far. Gonna post some more in a few days, methinks.

Brains and Brawn - BECAUSE IT JUST WORKS OKAY

Another Spinister and Krok ficlet using prompts borrowed from 30_touches.

This one I did out of order, but eh, I made that mistake earlier anyway. As I finished this up, I realized it was too violent to fit the prompt. Fortunately, it fit another prompt.

PROMPT: Prayer; Accepting
WARNINGS: Nothing, really. Just my headcanon as to how these two met.

—-

So, this was it.

This was how he was going to die.

Lying in a puddle of his own fluids, paralyzed with a huge gaping hole in his chest just next to his spark chamber, with the hot sun above baking him to a fine crisp.

All and all, Spinister was actually feeling pretty okay about it.

Sure, he wished the circumstances had been different, but… Well, on the bright side, Spinister lived a relatively damn good life. Killed a lot of people, blew a lot of stuff up, inflicted his love for violence and destruction on various alien worlds. And, you know what? Despite the fact he was slowly roasting from the heat, the sky was clear and so lovely. What a nice final image to go to. Though Spinister kind of wondered when the heat would finally reach boiling point and set fire to the gasoline and fuel pooling be—

Oh, okay. There it went. He only heard the small hiss of flames beside him before the fire gradually spread. At least it was moving around the edges of the puddle, slowly working inward. Spinister figured if the sun didn’t burn him up, the fire would, but that would be okay. He couldn’t feel anything, anyway. To go up in flames would actually pretty hardcore, in fact. Too bad no one was around to witness his possible radical death. Or maybe that was a good thing? Spinister’s brain was slowly liquefying, he couldn’t tell.

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And another birthday giftfic, except this one is pretty late. I offered fic for uniformshark, and she asked for something with Cyclonus and Tailgate. And bless her for telling me it’s no biggy when I kept whining about not being able to write at the time of/around her birthday.

Anyway! This one is something short and sweet and lighthearted. It’s mostly gen, so the relationship between Cyc and TG is platonic in appearance. Was inspired by uniformshark’s beach picture, so applied it to fic for a prompt. Artistic liberties taken, of course. Rated G and taking place a few issues back, before things really got apeshit crazy.

Also, as I was writing this out, I realized it was kind of imperative I throw in Brainstorm thanks to a certain someone who shall go on unnamed for reasons I think only they may understand.

Either way, I do hope you like it, Kashi. uvu

—-

Mar-umi was a fairly large planet, most of it consisting of water. Massive oceans and deep seas took up nearly 85% of the planet. Land was few and far in between, and very little life thrived on the dry surfaces. The waters were shades ranging from blue, turquoise, and even purple, and home to a variety of ocean dwelling creatures.

The shuttle had settled on one of the few beaches of Mar-umi, the sand warm from the sun and nearly white in color. Occasionally, a crustacean in a colorful or mute shell would waddle by, or a little sand worm would rear its head and quickly disappear; beyond that, the place was bare.

“You seen anything like this before?”

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This is a birthday ficlet for crashboombanger. Thank you, bro, for all those awesome recordings you did of my fanfics! As such, here is what you asked for: something with Drift being tortured and homoerotica is thrown in. Kaon helps supply those quite happily. Though this isn’t really gory at all, still gonna give a warning for violence and such.

Tumblr kept fucking up the formatting, so I posted it on LJ.

With that, I hope you enjoy!

—-

Each individual power line was strategically placed against and along the most sensitive of equipment and plating. Stretched and thread through hip, thigh, and various other seams between armor and dermal layers; others wrapped and coiled and wound around the body. Each constricting and biting down; metal dented, plating sliced, and those grinding like hot barbwire into the seams spilling rivets of energon.

As long as Drift kept still, the lines would remain in place, tense and pushing, but they did not tear or grind.

Too bad that was impossible.

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