Cannot emphasize enough that this will be "Dead Dove: Do Not Eat" material, meaning warnings for cannibalism, death, and more as a purposeful crafting of a new version of Wasp and Waspinator. Tread at your own risk.
"Wasp, you have been released from custody and sentenced to community service under my jurisdiction. You will report to Bumblebee or anyone he assigns to your case from now on. Any violation of your parole through murder will be met with consideration of a death penalty," Optimus warned. "This is your last warning, Wasp."
Eh, he could live with that. The new Council looked down on him, Autobot and Decepticon. Unlike the factions, Wasp ended up on his own side of the conflict through deceit and vicious animosity towards anyone or anything that stood in his way. They called him "The Metamorph" behind his back like a derogatory title, but he simply called his powerful armored upgrade Waspinator.
It still humored him seeing his mural in the Cybertronian History Museum that had a timeline up until just after the war was done. He was shown as an insectoid Predacon reptile with purple flames and a stylized beastly pose like a monster terrorizing all of Cybertron. Technically, he only decimated Tarn in his rampage and a few human outposts on Earth in pursuit of Bumblebee, his younger brother. The thought still made him smile watching those fleshlings burn. They called him on that marble a "dragon," whatever that was.
Well, he couldn't do anything now. The status collar he had worn in prison hindered him. His powers were limited. Still able to morph into Waspinator to a degree but none of his powers could work. Since he was free, it would take some time for them to return.
He was released on probation. Safe to say, he missed his nest that had a nice pool of Energon blood he could bathe in and jack off if he was feeling as horny as a hornet. Being a good citizen was lame. But with great knowledge came great opportunities to make life a little less of a hell for himself.
He figured if he still felt the ill effects of his superpowered form, why not put them to good use and play around? His parole officers and officials that dealt with his transition back into limited society presence were all looking fine. The pleasure bots who sold themselves for a credit or two had nothing on him.
While Insecticons were not always the prettiest bots alive, he remembered they were excellent spike warmers. Shrapnel was a great egg layer even if the eggs Waspinator implanted in him were infertile, underdeveloped on purpose so there wouldn't be any unwanted offspring. Insecticons were constantly active in interface, and Wasp's mutation was not an exception which led to the all-powerful monster taking whoever he pleased whenever.
Right now, Glyph looked breedable, especially when she bent over to retrieve something in her office. All work and no play made Waspinator very demanding internally. Wasp had spent several centuries in isolation in a special cell of the prison after his capture nearing the end of the war. He had a craving. If he couldn't kill, he wanted something to fill the void with the next best thing.
He got to know her over the first two visits explaining how his parole worked, how he needed to respond to her every other day until he was deemed able to go about his own life with a meeting only once a week to possibly once a month. She was straightforward, calm in the face of a monster. She intrigued him. Most of the talks were just boring but he kind of understood she had to go about the requested questions and evaluate him. She was one of few who could match his wit.
"Glyph," Wasp started. She was his current case worker and reported to his brother, and she all but gave him a disinterested side glance from her desk. "Still worried about little old me? I'm touched. What makes you so interested?"
Glyph gave him an impromptu smirk, "Waspinator is a dangerous specimen, but he is unique. Half Insecticon, half Predacon, but you can disguise it in your original Cybertronian mode. You have the most unusual, mutated genetics in your arsenal, a new species as an alt form by reversible, controlled metamorphosis and not a regular transformation."
Wasp hummed, "Poetic. But changing my whole form is not the only thing I can do."
"You also gained powers of pyrokinesis. Camouflage and individual control of severed and damaged parts, advanced versions of the indestructibility of an Insecticon sans the fireproof armor and flamethrower ability that derives from Predacon specialty. Your horns double as sensory antennae. You can change your sight between hyper focused and infrared predatory vision, have isolative olfactory detectors to pinpoint singular scents, and you contain 360-degree joints in your limbs, neck, and wing rotators. Oh, and you have vocal manipulation, able to mimic other creatures' sounds and, if aware enough of vocal patterns...other beings. Finally, you were the biggest pain in the aft to capture for an animal. Did I miss anything?" Glyph mused back, leaning against her desk in the space between him and it.
Wasp narrowed his optics but hated to admit he was impressed. He found himself smiling genuinely until he prepared to pounce on her. The animal was calling. It was hungry. It was bored. "No, I'd say you just about covered everything...except one little detail."
The jade teal and gold femme was lured by her quest for answers, ones that were very dangerous. She was a researcher. Naturally, she wanted to know all about the monster beneath.
"Can you do it anytime? Show me," she dared.
His Insecticon fangs phased through his control and presented in a sinister, slasher smile while his optics expanded briefly with hexagonal pulses, losing their pupils and ignited purple mischievously with smoke rising from them. If that's what she wanted...
Glyph arched with a moan as green-tipped claws held the back of her thighs holding her legs open. She lay on her desk, all her accessories thrown off and forgotten across the office floor, just where he liked her as he took his place kneeled between her legs. His changed glossa, now prehensile and ridged, fed on her demanding and desperate to not waste anything.
His spine was protruding with hidden barbs and he let a version of his monstrous tail pat the floor like an eager dog just to show off but still kept his Cybertronian form the basis of his appearance. Selective transformation was another thing he had mastered over the years, able to change certain parts to reflect more like his beast mode in design without changing into Waspinator completely. On top of that, he was…far too big in that form for this office let alone his new toy.
He was careful not to bite her. Blood was reserved for more situated partners like his Insecticons who loved getting rough. He all but chuckled at her sudden grip on his collar armor trying to keep him against her valve.
His alien glossa snaked into her, and he watched her thrash beautifully. Driven into a darker lust, Wasp upped his own expectations when he began suckling on her exterior node. She gasped and arched again. Wasp let his mutated glossa run across her inner walls amused until she came.
"Wasp!"
It tickled him just right to finally hear his name. Last partner he had before his incarceration refused to say his name out of spite. He accepted that it wasn't in the cards, but it was nice to hear it again.
Wasp slipped his glossa out, reverting it back to normal with an insectoid clatter. He kept his fangs and tail but let his spine readjust to flatten and rid himself of his barbs.
"How's that…for an animal?" Wasp purred.
Glyph took a second to process the overload before she peered at him with her vents heavy and blowing hot air. Then she asked, "What else can you transform?"
Wasp merely grinned with guttural growl. He flipped her over with determination to break the desk. His spike looked ordinary at first with minimal ridges and bio lights. With a flare of purple, it shifted to appear larger with raised ridges and much more Insecticon-oriented. She seemed eager.
He stuffed himself inside her, sliding his spike across her walls and stretching them. Everything was tight for him and hurt in a way. Each thrust had both of them moaning loud for he hadn't been active in forever. His instinct was to rut against her but with his unnatural strength, it risked exploding her organs. As much as he didn't care if he killed people under any circumstances, Glyph wasn't who he wanted to break on purpose right now.
His hold on her hips forced her still so he could propel himself in a deep rhythm with a beast-like growl. His optics were a mixture of normal blue and vibrant purple trying to take over. The closer his systems rose to blissful heights, the less stable his form was becoming. He could feel pieces of his armor becoming unkept trying to prepare to change. He didn't want to change, only enjoy what he had.
He fragged her against her desk until she came, but he wanted his release a lot more than seeing hers. The mutated spike ran across each node he could practically feel the outline of with its moving panels. Warmth. He loved warmth. His door wings were down, and his tail was wagging. Her aft bounced against his panel as he massaged her curvy waist.
"Perfect," he hissed.
Glyph was desperate for her overload. Wasp indulged her and gave her something to love about him even more. He spilled his seed within her with a dark roar that melted into an insectoid grumble, grinding against her to stimulate everything in her valve at once. She gave a plea and moved back on him. His spike expanded and produced another moan from her, a reaction normally made to impregnate his mates, but it was more for dramatic arousal than actual mating. He just liked to abuse it.
He darkly chuckled, "Am I good citizen on your reports, baby?"
As he wiggling his hips to remind her of his control of her, especially since they were literally bound together at the moment, Glyph tried to sound professional amidst the tension.
"I think...I can write a good report for Bumblebee...if you come back."
Wasp liked it when he got his way. He was always a manipulator, and his charm had yet to not work on a single soul sans Bumblebee and Optimus because they were all too familiar with his misdeeds.
After deflating his spike and giving Glyph something to look forward to, he walked out of her messy office with a snarling smirk. He rid himself of his tail, claws, and realigned all his parts to look presentable again as just Wasp, the reformed common citizen of Cybertron and Bumblebee's older brother. Yeah, right.
He cracked his neck audibly with a hidden predatory growl before taking off, ignoring the fleeting glances of people down below in the lobby of the building. They muttered little whatevers he didn't really bother deciphering. Now that he was free for the next few days but now in a mood, he decided he would search for something or someone to do. Had to keep something entertaining after a decent imprisonment.
Surprisingly, it didn't take long to find a gullible form of it, and it came in the hardheaded arrogance of the Dinobot Sludge. He met the sauropod warrior on accident on the outskirts of Iacon while he was searching for his old warehouse by memory, and he also sought his associates who had abandoned him once he turned into Waspinator. He aimed to pay them back, and he knew no one would miss them. But instead, there was a Dinobot in front of his former turf. And he didn't like that...
Moving his jaw with tranquil anger, he approached Sludge with a hidden growl. He spat, "Evening, Dinobot."
The brontosaurus sneered, "I'm sorry, and you are?"
"Wasp. This used to be my territory. I would kindly ask you to leave it."
"Don't know the name and ain't going nowhere. I've had this area for the past several years. And you think you can just up and tell me some lie to take it from me?"
Sludge stood at his full height not slouching; a grand fifty-five feet high. Impressive for sure, but Wasp closed his optics with a smirk.
"Now, see, that's a problem," he hissed with a hinted undertone of a secondary, darker voice bleeding through. "If you don't leave, I'll have no choice but to hurt you."
Sludge cackled, "As if you could hurt me, little one."
Wasp's voice became a deep, monstrous baritone. "Don't say I didn't warn you..."
The Dinobot's expression fell as Wasp's form arched and roared, snapping forward with multiple cracking sounds. His body shifted entirely where his smooth armor mutated into sharp panels. His door wings grew larger and divided in half with purple transparent membranes. Horns and barbs along his spine were pronounced as he grew with the grey of his faceplates turning the same dark green as his helm, and a snout with vicious fangs and hidden mouth mandibles were hard to ignore. Claws, a black and neon green striped tail, and pupil-less purple optics haunted the night as Sludge's optics trailed his growing chassis now surpassing the Dinobot's height.
By the time he was done, Sludge now looked up to him as his shadow dwarfing him revealed two sets of arms, wings, an elongated thick neck and a whipping tail that slammed down near his four-toed Insecticon-like pedes. His horn-like antennae made him look like a demon. His dark cackle and insectoid hiss with smoke blowing from his slit nostrils emphasized his hybrid nature of that between an Insecticon and Predacon.
"By your puny expression," the monster clicked, "I do believe I can hurt you, Dinobot."
A frightened Sludge backed into a wall as the blaring purple optics of Waspinator met his, the dragon neck of curving to be eye level with a fanged smirk. Waspinator loved the smell of fear. But his commlink was trying to activate, and he growled angrily.
"You have a choice: leave now or I will dismantle you quickly. I don't have time to play stupid games."
Sludge nodded, "Y-Yes, you got it. I-I'm leaving..."
"GO!"
The Dinobot fled when Waspinator opened his jaws, his bottom splitting in half in a roar revealing the mandibles and several rows of fangs meant for tearing into even the strongest metals. His optics bright with the rest of his purple bio lights coming to life across his frame. When Sludge left, Waspinator, standing at almost eighty feet tall, raised his neck to see some bots staring. He roared at them to make them flee before suddenly shifting back.
Parts rearranged, constricted, smoothed out and shrunk with alien noises, cracks and growls until Wasp stood his respectable twenty-two-foot height and shrugged the loose plating back into place with a deadpan expression. He popped his normal neck and flexed his regular jaw guard unfazed with his blue optics burning bright.
"Thank you," he said loudly out of thin air towards the long-gone Sludge out of boredom.
His commlink stopped beeping, a message from Glyph trying to hit him up for another session in a few days. He didn't mind that. But it went off again several minutes later from his brother instead as he approached the warehouse and pushed in the code they surprisingly never changed. He answered the commlink after letting it beep a few more times trying to ignore it.
"What the hell did you do?"
"Scared someone off, no touchy, I promise. Or maybe I was thinking about using my spike as Waspinator, sticking an object up my valve to feel something other than disappointment," he said as he walked into his old warehouse home. He grabbed a useless tool from one of his associates long forgotten before throwing it at random spot somewhere behind him. He calmly continued, "I don't know if you want the details on that-"
"Wasp! You disgusting-no, I-I don't want to hear about your private habits! Look, you can't be changing into Waspinator! I can't ignore the calls about it, so please don't!"
"How about this? I just call you and let you know when I'm about to change and why?"
Bee didn't sound pleased by that. "And how do I know you're not lying and not getting into trouble?"
Wasp drummed his digits on his chin in false thought. "Mmm...you won't. But if I do something bad, it'll be on the news in no time so I can't hide that. No use in ruining the last chance I have so early."
"You are unbelievable..."
"I'm as Primus made me: a sociopath and a monster, if trying to kill you in the past didn't prove that. I will only change as I want for stupid things. I'm not dumb enough to risk getting myself killed. I can't help natural instincts," he shrugged smirking.
"Yeah, you tell yourself that. Alright, when you decide to change, let me know...and politely give me a reason you did. I have to log it, but I can put down more obscene reasons as daily stretches or something like that, you fragger."
"Love you too," he mocked.
Bumblebee hung up on him, and that left him with no one to talk to and nothing to do again. He had no life, no friends, one girlfriend though that was still questionable as she still reported to Bumblebee, and zero plans currently.
"Screw it, guess I just have to give myself a spin on what I promised and get drunk while I'm at it after I maybe clean up the place a little. Welcome home, buddy."
The warehouse he used as a home for the longest time was a forgotten mess but he was surprised to find his furniture and pool was still there...albeit covered in junk and needed some cleaning. Using his super strength, he began moving broken junk and crates out, realigning his stuff back to where he liked it, and overall fixing some of the problems the place developed with lack of care took a decent amount of time. Thankfully, he had all the time in the world.
When he finished, it looked decent. The warehouse posed no issue for his beast mode but cleaning it up made it emptier than he thought. Well, all his stolen goods and expensive stuff was stolen in the double-crossing. He could always get more again. No problem. Now, he just needed something to drink...
The transparent oil pool was a bit murkier than he would have liked but didn't harm him. He dragged a huge tanker of high-grade fresh off the processing plant, one he may have borrowed for the hour not far from his location, and set it next to the pool with a smirk. Wasp then shifted to Waspinator and laughed as his giant form made the oil splash a lot higher upon settling himself into it.
"Bumblebee, just letting you know, I'm relaxing as myself. No need to worry." Waspinator didn't get a reply, so he shrugged it off uncaring.
Waspinator laid on his back mostly submerged with his wings splayed out, tail end curved out from the oil onto the other side of the pool tapping gently against the floor, his clawed servos behind his helm and had one digitigrade leg over the other relaxing. He flexed his paws casually enjoying his moment of peace. His smaller set of arms attached to his lower torso were folded beneath the oil resting on his abdomen. As he inhaled, the large chest plates with purple window-like panels in the shape of bug eyes expanded until he exhaled, and they collapsed gently against him.
The monster released one servo from relaxation to cut a slit in the top edge of the tanker and bring it to him to drink out of. His snout and reptilian jaws secured the opening so no more than a few droplets of high-grade slipped past him. His elongated neck showed the bulges of his gulps going down to his chassis as he briefly tilted his helm back. He set the tanker down after a while licking his chops with his mutated, alien glossa when a deep burp escaped him with a plume of smoke and a small, brief purple flame.
The pool was a little cold, but he couldn't use his fire breath to warm it as much as he wanted to because it was still disabled from lack of use. He could blow tiny plumes but that was it. Instead, he reached over to the controls and manually made it warm. It wasn't as fast either. He sank to enjoy his oil bath with all but the top of his helm and the tip of his tail breaching. Perfect.
But the heat of the pool stirred his body, and he remembered he never did get around to giving himself a good time in this mode. A fanged smile presented itself as he sat a little more upright to raise his torso, so he sat comfortably with his arms on the edges of the pool.
"Aw, what the hell," he mused.
Wasp revealed his barbed spike and unique valve design with ridges. While his smaller arms worked in pumping his spike, immune to the barbs, his right arm reached under and toyed with the opening that had rough bumps around it to protect it. He swirled his claws gently around the folds with a rumbling purr and closed his purple optics.
His valve was more sensitive in response than his spike. Waspinator moved a little faster and used his other free arm to open the folds wide so his digits could tease his entrance. He sank in his seat, propping his legs out of the pool onto the ledges to widen them for easier access. His tail swayed happily when he entered himself.
His pedes flexed the individual claws and their paw pads as the Insecticon leader pumped his digits into his needy valve. His spike was mostly forgotten and lazily stroked for extra bliss, but his valve loved the attention. He made circular motions alongside his rapid movements to stimulate it harder, a jagged growl emitting from his deep vocals.
The oil became choppy with all his frantic digits impaling himself. His quick breaths made steam blow from the sides of his mouth and nostrils. His moans came out as beastly snarls, building louder until he jerked and roared in an abrupt overload. His tail curled into a tight coil. He pumped his digits a few more times to revel in the relief, but Waspinator was a lot harder to appease in this form than his normal.
His helm tilted to the tanker and grabbed it with both servos, leaving his wanton valve unoccupied and drinking most all of the reminder until he noticed something. The frame outlining the tanker could be twisted together and used as a toy if he actually tried. A wicked grin showed on his features.
He ripped the tanker base cylinder away from its support beams and used his strength to twist the two largest pieces together, making a phallic design. The result of it was one hell of a rush.
Waspinator threw his helm back with his neck curving to put it against the floor upside down as oil splashed everywhere. The new toy was thrust into his valve ravenously. It rubbed against every node in him, making the beast cry out with heated noises. He fucked himself with the object uncaring if anyone or anything heard him.
His digitigrade legs were as wide as possible to not obscure his pace. The toy meshed well with his inner nodes, pushing against them and touching the farthest ones in rapture. He didn't need to look down to know he was making a mess of his pool. He arched and bucked hard at a certain angle he struck that sent his chassis into overdrive.
It didn't take long for him to overload again. He did this multiple times in slightly different positions each round. He loved his new toy dearly. Waspinator's intake of heightened pleasure was ten times more powerful and demanding than his Cybertronian form's. He had no choice but to draw out overload after overload until he collapsed satisfied after the ninth one.
With a hoarse laugh, he chucked the toy to the side and knew he was wasted and beaten. He clambered out on all six limbs dragging his tail tired but content. The monster was sedated for now. Wasp took form and staggered onto his pedes having to pause and take a second to let his chassis catch up as the influx of post-haze overloads fogged up his processor and took a toll on his smaller size a lot heavier. His organs felt rearranged.
"Oh, shit, frag me," he groaned.
Trying to move to his berth in his quarters was like navigating a maze drunk, which he technically was. Wasp nearly missed the berth and crawled onto it only to go face first and drift into recharge.
It took a few days to readjust to the fact his territory had Dinobots, Decepticons, and Minicons in it never before populated with. Then again, considering his time abroad, he couldn't exactly manage his operations as a monster let alone in prison. He was still searching for his former associates.
One lie he told Optimus and the Council to their faceplates was he would not kill or harm in his plea deal for parole. His associates, Dropkick, Burnout, Shatter, and Minerva, all stole from him after he was arrested. But they were still around. He had Glyph pull a few favors in confirming this for some fun repayment, not that she knew what he intended to do with the information. Dropkick was in Stanix, Burnout currently resided in Kaon, Shatter was somewhere in the Hydrax Plateau base, and Minerva had a job in Torus Heights Conservatory. What was stolen was his personal belongings like his weapons and his Energon supply which was a huge blunder because that was his specialized supply that kept his cravings down.
His Waspinator form loved Energon blood, Energon that was already converted to fuel the body and combined with enriching extra chemicals the body produced naturally. It was denser in flavor and heavy in nutrients but unethical in practice. His stash was processed, specialty drugged blood that kept his dangerous side content when he didn't know how to control it back then. Granted, it was actually bought from a blood bank under an alias for a nonexistent hospital and the drugs were mixed in on his own accord at the time, but still...
But these Dinobots were making his cravings for blood start to reemerge. Sludge returned and with Grimlock this time. The large Dinobot leader made him groan in annoyance as he was overshadowed. His neck cracked to look in Grimlock's general direction with a heavy side eye and a low animalistic growl. His optics produced a flare of purple.
"Well, I'll be damned," Grimlock huffed, "Wasp. They finally released the infamous freakshow himself. You're the one causing a stir in these parts. Didn't Optimus tell you, your territory got sold off years ago."
"Nice to see you too, Rexy. I heard your official likeness is to that of what the fleshlings of Earth call a Tyrannosaurus. All brawn, no brains...just like you," he spat back.
The Dinobot snarled, "I'll show you brawn, you little cretin."
"Careful, don't use your whole vocabulary in one argument. You just got your voice fixed I heard."
Grimlock roared as he lunged. At the same time, Wasp twisted out of his way and formed his tail to catch Grimlock's flying fist. His horns and thick ridged forehead grew in and his tail pulled the larger mech close before he rammed his head into Grimlock's face. The face mask with a mouthful of fangs etched in detail on the Dinobot partially shattered from the assault revealing the real mouth that had lots of scars and jagged fangs.
Grimlock stumbled back from the headbutt and clutched his broken face mask and bleeding exposure mouth. One sharp tooth was broken and spat out, then he glared daggers at Wasp. Wasp gave a returning roar in warning, his form threatening to change. He knew Grimlock wasn't stupid enough to bring out Waspinator at this time, especially not after being injured already.
The Dinobot sneered and stomped off as a blow to his pride. "If you didn't have that curse, I would take great pleasure in tearing you apart."
Wasp reformed completely, getting rid of the tail and horns, but he raised a brow curiously. There were a lot of styles he learned from Grimlock and others once he became Waspinator. Brutality was credited as need be. Tearing people in half or into tiny pieces was funny but it was more amusing to him watching them slowly die. It's what he would do to one of his associates...probably Burnout because he was his least favorite.
Grimlock would be back. That was perfectly fine with Wasp, but he had things to do. First stop was Stanix.
Stanix Acid Wastes were fun to navigate as a beast because of his immunity to the heat. The acid itself? Not so much. But from what the data Glyph mentioned told him, Dropkick was around the city bordering the Acid Wastes. All he needed to was lure the bot out into the open. He checked if he still had Dropkick's old commlink frequency. The mech wasn't very keen on change, probably why the warehouse code never was, so he doubted the frequency ever got altered. Before he tested it though, he began to try and rejuvenate his vocal prowess.
One attribute of Waspinator's was vocal mimicry. He knew their voices by spark but he hadn't used the power in so long. Minerva had the best flow of a voice, soft yet deep, and he practiced her laugh first. It came out weird the first two attempts. Putting a servo on his throat and clearing it, Wasp tried a third and fourth time and it was then he began hearing her likeness through his vocals.
"Drop...kick, Dropkick, Dropkick..." Minerva's voice sounded through him, then he spoke in a full sentence. "I need you, Dropkick."
The "you" pronunciation was funky to say the least. Waspinator's vocals weren't exactly a pinnacle of finesse. But a few more sentences proved to him he had it down enough to use. Dropkick had a huge soft spot for Minerva when they were a crew. They were like brother and sister. Wasp didn't care for it until his betrayal. Now, he believed they had schemed his downfall. Well, Dropkick was a handsome idiot...
He activated the frequency and said in Minerva's mimicked voice, "Dropkick, I require your assistance. I need you."
Wasp winced a little as the tone kind of slipped. Dropkick immediately responded unfazed, "Minerva, what's wrong?"
"Meet me at Stanix Acid Wastes, north side. I'll explain everything."
"I'm on my way."
Wasp waited in the shadows of a metal tree that grew on the outskirts. Stanix had a lot of boulders and large trees that fed on the ground's heavy minerals activated by the constant toiling of the Acid Wastes. It was a metal that was one of few types that could withstand the acidity.
Another power he had that he was slowly getting back was his ability to camouflage, another benefit of Waspinator's form. After focusing as much as possible, he lowered his bio lights and optics to a dull hint of blue outweighed by the electric green of the Wastes and his armor slowly darkened to blend with the environment's safe ground and the tree he was against. It took a moment for it to really kick in, but he grinned as Dropkick drove up unable to see him despite looking in his direction.
"Minerva?" The blue and black mech called.
Wasp looked his former crew member up and down. He had armor polish on. The Acid Wastes would curl that right off in a few minutes which matched the disgusted grimace of Dropkick's. He always loved keeping his frame tidy.
Wasp crawled out on hiding when Dropkick was looking around desperately. He converted from crawling on all fours to stalking upright with a flicker of hatred. As soon as he was behind the mech, he said in Minerva's voice, "Hello, Dropkick."
The mech whipped around and grew horrified upon seeing Wasp. The fear was delightful to witness and smell. Wasp gestured with open arms casually.
"Miss me?"
"H-How?! You're supposed to be in-!"
"Prison?" Wasp cut him off growling in his regular voice, "You know, I wouldn't be there had you four not alerted Optimus and the Autobots where I was."
Once Dropkick got over the shock, he stood a little taller and said, "You are a monster. You left our crew and became...that thing...and then you came back. You weren't the Wasp we remembered. You were far more dangerous to be around."
"Is that what you convinced yourselves happened? Because I got wind of a different story, one from a friend of ours, Wildwheel, who is not loyal to you as you have been led to believe. He met me in prison and said after I was turned into Waspinator by that freak accident, you four started planning on running my business as your own, leaving me alone and to die as a monster back when I was unable to control myself. And he revealed when I returned to finally being sane again and join back, you liked the perks you had over all my finances and belongings that you made the anonymous call and set me up to be confronted by the Autobots as a war criminal. 'The Metamorph' as everyone dubbed me for my freakish transformation. And then you sold everything I had, got rid of my territory so you could profit off my destruction!"
Dropkick began to chuckle and sneered, "Personally, I liked you better when you were just an animal."
Wasp tilted his helm at the audacity. Dropkick wasn't a coward, just too outgoing for his own good. But Wasp played off the arrogance with a shrug and got closer, to Dropkick's concern.
"I get that a lot. Ever since I changed, bots have been thoroughly drawn to Waspinator. I'm like a science project. In a way, I have to thank you. It's because you left me behind I didn't rid myself of this curse when I had the chance and have grown quite fond of the beast. Heightened senses, ability to change parts of myself, higher interface drive...the pros are endless."
"Higher...interface drive?"
Wasp got far too close for comfort face-to-face with the other mech with a drunken smile that was masking other urges brewing within. He then said pleasantly, "I forgive you even if you hate me. I forgive everything as long as you come back to help me."
His blue optics searched Dropkick's confused yellow before crushing his mouth against the other with a purr. The kiss felt nice, and he had his servos reached up to caress Dropkick's helm cheek plates eagerly as the bot's defenses slowly came down. Their glossa intertwined, but Wasp kept everything natural. No enhancements of Waspinator's to keep Dropkick engaged required. The blue mech started trying to take control as Wasp predicted, servos going to his waist and urging him back towards the tree.
Wasp always knew he was attractive and at least three of his crew members wanted to lay with him. Shatter was the only one he knew who preferred other femmes, which was fine. Minerva was her pursuit, and he didn't doubt they had hooked up a few times even though Minerva was for anyone as long as it benefited her.
He suddenly threw Dropkick around to lay on the ground beneath the tree and climbed on top of him. Sitting on his lap, Wasp teased his associate by bouncing on his lap a few times indicating what he wanted. The servos on his hips massaged them when he heard Dropkick reveal his spike.
"Give me one reason I should respect you, Wasp," Dropkick muttered.
The green and black mech mused, "Oh, I'll give you a reason."
Wasp opened his valve panel and immediately sat himself on the spike with a rumble. He sat up to force it deep and smirked upon seeing Dropkick press against the ground with a shiver. He kneaded the mech's chestplates and let Dropkick force him to ride his member, letting him take command. Wasp didn't focus much on the penetration when he leaned back down. There was only one thing on his mind.
The kiss they resumed was heated. Wasp found the eagerness from Dropkick humorous. His servos removed themselves from the chest and ran up to meet Dropkick's on his hips, gripping them with the edges of his claws coming out. The appearance of them made Dropkick wince and his brows furrowed despite their mouths still being locked. When he met Wasp's optics, the green mech only hummed.
The taste of blood was erotic.
Dropkick slowed all his motions and made a discomforted expression until Energon oozed from between their locked mouths and streaked down the bot's cheeks. Wasp merely narrowed his optics and grew more aggressive. The panic in the mech's widening optics only encouraged him. His claws kept the other's servos clutching at his hips unable to push him off or do anything though he did lean off the spike to only go for the blood.
Wasp wasn't bothered by the attempted flailing and used his newly formed fangs to gouge out Dropkick's lower face. Any screams that were made were muffled until Wasp shot up, abruptly ripping off the lower jaw and glossa with wires and cabling muscle stretching up still attached between the parts and the body. He laughed as he used his strong jaws to crush the metal and devour it. His faceplates were covered in blood as he glared down at his victim.
He jerked his claws out of the servos he held in place, breaking one and gashing the other to bleed before grabbing Dropkick's neck with his strength to pin him and leaning over the scared mech. "On second thought, I liked you better when you kept your mouth shut."
Wasp's jaws mutated enough to spread wider with his optics purple as he flew down to go for the rest of the mech's helm. The bloody remaining servo uselessly clawed at his waist and chest leaving bloody prints everywhere as Wasp ripped piece after piece of Dropkick, eating his optics and digging past to the processor with insectoid chatter.
The Stanix Acid Wastes were covered in thick, grueling smoke and loud bubbling that masked most of the incident. Even if someone heard them, it would be impossible to see the carnage. The entire time, Dropkick was still alive. Only when Wasp got most of the processor and jerked up to rip it out did the body go limp. And he didn't even stop there.
Blood was addicting. Wasp just ate chunk after chunk of the mech's helm, tearing off protoform and armor alike slower now that his prey was officially dead. It wasn't until the back portion attached to the parts for the neck remained that he stopped and threw that last piece into jaws content. He swallowed and licked his lips and fangs greedily. The animal was satisfied with that.
He looked at himself and all the blood that dripped to cover his upper chest and his servos. Splatters of it stained his thighs and the rest was on Dropkick. He could only imagine what his faceplates looked like. His sharp lower jaw cover wasn't green anymore if his faint reflection in Dropkick's untouched armor showed correct. He purred at his success in hunting down the first of the traitors. Three more to go.
But then Wasp peered back at the spike he left unattended in his bloodlust. Well, waste not, want not. He smirked wickedly and backed up to have the spike in front of him to grab. He pumped it a few times with his servos of blood slicking it before impaling himself again.
His door wings were pressed down as he bounced on the lifeless lap to finish what he started. He forced the spike deep inside him to hit his nodes properly. Despite no response from the spike itself, he lusted after Dropkick's headless corpse. He could only pretend his former crewmate was still there in a delusional bout of derangement. Prison made him have a lot of pent-up problems he was more than aware of.
He clawed at the chestplates of the dead mech and tore them open to cling to the empty spark chamber devoid of power, thrusting forward roughly and jerking at each hard movement he gave himself against his valve walls. His valve sat pretty against the interface covered in blood and lubricant as he rolled his hips with closed optics and loud cries of arousal.
His overload was abrupt and hard. Wasp only responded by riding out his orgasm to draw it out. A heavy feeling of desire and a flushed expression of need as he licked his blood-strained claws washed over him looking down at the corpse. Dropkick kind of looked better dead than alive, in his opinion. He thought about fucking the body until it broke just to dig Dropkick's grave further in unholy irony, but he had plenty of other things to catch up with.
Dropkick was unceremoniously pushed into the Acid Wastes where his body slowly sank beneath the bright green bubbly liquid. His armor hissed and popped from the rest of his fluids and any air inside being pushed out. Wasp watched unfazed at the sight and merely threw up his brows with a click of his glossa.
"Betray me?"
The three others were about to get a wakeup call and maybe not just them. After all, he made enemies everywhere. Why not make them disappear? It took an army to capture him last time. Optimus Prime and Bumblebee would not do so again.
AN: I just created a demonic version of Wasp and I am not really regretting it. I sometimes like making characters very dark if I think it will give a decent perspective on how the change reflects the motion of the story. It's only a few chapters long so it's more like freestyling a small "what if" in my head.