! Happy Easter. I Will Burn In Hell.

Όπτιμους ἀνέστη! Happy Easter. I will burn in hell.

TFP Optimus gives a messy egg-birth. Ratchet is here too.

Flying into the Well of All Sparks, Optimus was ready to sacrifice himself, or at least what he's grown used to think of as himself, his frail, mortal form of metal and wires. He was prepared to merge with Primus. Apparently, Primus had other plans.

It started with warm airflow embracing him near the end of the Well, permeating his armor like it was paper thin, overwhelming him, igniting and soothing at the same time, and finally carrying him lightly back to the surface. It continued with his friends' confused happiness. And this new fuzzy feeling, and Ratchet's concern, and a discovery. Oh, the discovery. Optimus Prime not only came back alive. He came back full of eggs.

Living, precious sparks, nested in their vacuoles and soft, translucent shells, were growing inside his gestation tank. The organ designed to incubate one to several eggs has expanded to embrace the holy gift. Ratchet tried to count them but failed. There were just a lot, mostly blue, but some green, pink, and yellow.

Ratchet's medical fascination mixed with religious awe. The more he observed and studied the unique case of his Prime, the deeper it got, even though he had to face things that had to be left out of the equation for others. Medical confidentiality was a thing when it came to Optimus' increasing sexual appetite, to him constantly being on the verge of arousal due to being stuffed in a quite pleasurable way, to his gestation tank pressing on his waste reservoir and making the messiah of Primus visit the waste receiver twice a day. Optimus' increased energon consumption was less of a sensitive issue, yet he was still uncomfortable drinking this much openly, so Ratchet had to watch him fuel in private to control his ration.

So much stayed behind the closed doors of the medbay during Optimus' daily scheduled check-ups. So many little… inconveniences.

When Ratched had Optimus in the examination chair once again, everything seemed noticeably more intense. Optimus seemed more nervous and tired, and he told Ratchet about feeling so full that he was afraid to move. Even his waist plating looked slightly pushed from the inside. He lubricated copiously, letting out oily pink droplets, and the valve visibly throbbed so hard Ratchet called for all his medical professionalism not to growl in frustration and want. He was lying to himself about it being just fascination and awe. Fascination and awe never leave you with your spike in hand after your friend's and leader's daily check-up, moaning and thinking about his heavily pregnant tank.

Ratchet prepared the endoscope, and Optimus tensed. "It's going in," Ratchet informed him, trying to sound calm.

When the head of the endoscope touched the eagerly unfurling petals of Optimus' valve, there was a sound of a small piece of armor retracting. Ratchet tried not to stare at the spike pressurizing, instead focusing on Optimus' frantic apologies. It's alright. They'd been there. No need to feel ashamed. But holy Primus, fuck, how big this spike was, and how big the valve below was, and how smoothly it took the endoscope.

"Ratchet, please, stop." He complied immediately, detecting almost pleading undertones in the strained low voice. Optimus growled, and his hips jerked uncontrollably, grinding on the probing device. "I'm sorry, but I feel like my waste tank may give. The sparks are pressing on it."

"Then we should empty it before it's damaged," Ratchet told him, the phrasing felt odd and ridiculous but was aimed to comfort Optimus, highlighting him being aided and taken care of. The endoscope slid slowly in and out, stimulating the nodes where the tube connecting the waste tank with a small nozzle next to the valve lay close to the inner interface equipment, intertwined with its tubing and energon lines.

Optimus shuddered, and moaned, and started pouring the floor before the examination chair with periwinkle blue fluid. It arched between his legs, soiling Ratchet's hand still holding the endoscope. It wasn't the first time a patient voided the doctor, damn, they've been through the war quite horror-rich, but it was the first time Ratchet didn't really mind.

"I need a sample anyway," he said, grabbing a test tube from a tray and catching the stream with it. It did little to dispel Optimus' embarrassment, but at least it was true and gave Ratchet his pitiful excuse to watch closely his Prime peeing with, with the endoscope inside, open, ready to lay his blessed eggs.

Oh yes, he was ready. As soon as he stopped emptying himself and Ratchet took his hand away to clean it alongside the tool, his body spasmed like it was welcoming a long-denied overload. "Ratchet, I feel my destination almost…" He groaned, not from pain. "They are coming, I cannot hold them anymore."

"No, damn, Optimus, w-wait a minute!"

Ratchet rushed to the shelf, where awaited the basket, voluminous enough to accommodate a prime clutch and padded with soft material. Two seconds later, he found Optimus mindlessly stroking his spike, trying to distract himself and relieve the tension at the same time. His plating noisily rattled against the chair, his broken whimpers made Ratchet's mind dizzifyingly spin and Ratchet's panels open, but Ratchet was left with little time to care. He saw Optimus' valve squirting a jet of lubricant, his whole body contracting, and a first butch of divine eggs falling wetly into the basket.

They were magnificent. Glowing, warm, colorful, fertilized by Primus, and coming from Optimus' overloading valve. Ratchet didn't hear his own praises and prayers, only Optimus' powerful engine roaring, his cooling fans whirring, his shaky in-vents, and beautiful strangled grunts escaping his voice box.

With his own spark pulsing and his spike throbbing, Ratchet held the basket with one hand, using the other to touch the seam between Optimus' thigh and hip plating to draw attention to himself. "You alright, Optimus? Any pain now?"

"I am fine, my friend. How are… they?"

"Perfect, you… You are doing wonderful," Ratchet reassured, the container in his hand was getting heavier and heavier. Optimus' hand never left his own spike, and Ratchet surrendered too. Powerless before the spectacle of life and pleasure and how badly it aroused him, he placed the basket on the floor, right in the puddle, and quickly stroked himself until the blinding overload made him moan and grab Optimus' leg.

It took a couple minutes more and two more small overloads for Optimus to tense in a final one, his spike spilling intensely, his frame using every output to dump the charge. He was crying.

The basket was full, the eggs piled in it, glowing. Each spark was visible inside, each had its own unique song. Ratchet and Optimus, both calming down, could already sense their energy and life.

A gift, a treasure. The future.

I've misread (or, more accurately, misinterpreted) a post about the Constructicons plugging into each other. It was probably about them plug'n'playing, but regardless of the method, this medieval picture of Turkish men party-harding and chain-fucking each other got stuck in my head, and I can't UNTHINK it and unimagine the Constructicons having a circle orgy. It's like a circle jerk, but on a whole other level. Holy crap.

NSFW under the cut.

Fuck off, Tumblr, this is historical context. I post it for education. For friendship leaves a vacuum still, which love, and love alone, can fill. I teach about aşk here.

Im guessing that was a queued post, since Easter was on 3/31.

Oh no, not queued. I know some were eager and celebrated on March 31, but it takes to wait a bit longer in Eastern tradition. Some still party like true byzantines. All this calender shit is weird, but it's really funny when the whole English-speaking (America-dominated) internet has already celebrated, and then some people (including the huge Greek diaspora in America) just awake and decide that now it's THEIR turn to devour all the eggs.

$10 says there will be an eddying rush of porn with virgin Orion Pax on equally virgin Megatron (I don't expect much Elita, I know where I am). And I await it. Inexperienced lovers awkwardly exploring each other and the whole sex thing is one of my top favorite genres of erotic content.

(And good guys Quintessons could give us more friendly tentacle porn. C'mon, fearsome polylimbic masters can't fulfill the niche for strong organic (or at least semi-organic) folks fucking big robots on equal terms for mutual enjoyment, they should try better.)

So TFone could be an inverse Megatron redemption arc? Where he starts off good and turns evil, I mean. I think there's some interesting possibilities there.

We've kinda been there. If Megs starts as a miner, he starts with good intentions: to liberate, to eradicate the inequality, to make things better. And he is the oppressed, so his rage against the system is a righteous rage. But then something goes wrong, and the liberator goes all dictator. You know, every regime rots, but for ex, in IDW it's made clear that it's rotten from the beginning, when Megatron's chosen the violent path (like it was any other, lol). But we'll see. I don't expect much, since it's a one and a half (two at best) hour movie, and they need to introduce all the characters, and make tons of self-references, and show Megs beating the shit outta Starscream. But there's always a place for interesting possibilities.

There'd be more chances to convince me to watch TFA despite my distaste for the style and some core tropes being not my cup of tea if the fandom put more effort into depicting the Decepticons fucked. I mean, ravaged by their smaller partners.

Look, there are giant Megatron and Blitzwing, drawn with their relatively tiny Autobots all over the tags. And the possibilities of them being spiked for dear life are still obscure? Let's face the truth, if someone can hold their partner with one hand, sure shit they'll hold them closer to their crotch. To use their tiny spike for pleasure.

(Just kidding. It's not so easy to convince me to consume any media, but it would be a fairly nice try.)