#Ancient Autobot

[delicateartisantrash]

Cybertronian Language Ref Project

So, I was absolutely ASTOUNDED to discover there isn't, as far as I could find, any dedicated directory of a List Of Words for the Cybertronian languages, though there is some documentation on the written languages themselves.

Inspired by those, I started creating a document to keep track of Cybertronic languages used in the fanfictions I write, because I have an obsession for fantasy language in a story actually being written out.

Would anyone be interested in sharing this resource? I don't have terribly many words installed yet, and I mostly focus on the common tongue since that's what comes up most often in my stories so far, but I plan to flesh out all of them with time.

Imagine some of the fun miscommunications between Decepticons and Autobots who are mingling, when they have the same spoken word but they mean vastly different things >:DDD

[soundwaves-flowercrown]

I can't have nice things.

[transingthoseformers]

Partial SG DJD and erasing the term "traitors" in their job and writing "people who violate the Atrox Scelus pact" aaand explicitly only go after those who have committed the agreed upon NoNos of the war

[pinkanonwrites]

Repaying The Favor

G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 4600+ words NSFW, Valveplug, Miscommunication, First Time, Oral Sex, AFAB Reader - They/Them Pronouns for reader

The sequel to "Oh! That's What That Does?!" is finally here! Same reader, same Rumble, same trying to figure each other out, only this time they get to slam down crazy-style about it. When will Frenzy get his turn in the spotlight? Eventually, I think! Maybe once I've finished a few other pet projects.

NSFW WRITING BELOW THE CUT!

It had been exactly fifteen days since you had last heard from Rumble. 

Not that you’d been counting.

Sure, the cassettes probably had more important things to do than lounge around your workshop waiting for your attention, but that's exactly why it was so odd. They always had better things to do, things that they were pointedly avoiding doing by barging in on your work and taking up what little free space the shop had remaining. But since your little tryst with Rumble, you hadn't seen armor nor optic of any of the usual cassette bot suspects.

Maybe you'd broken some sort of ancient, space robot taboo that you'd never heard of. Or maybe Rumble was just embarrassed that he jizzed all over your jumpsuit. Either way, it wasn't like you had any way of getting ahold of them besides them dropping in, so there wasn't much to be done about the situation but wait.

You were leaving the corner store when you heard it, the cacophonous boom of a jet flying far too close to the tips of the skyscrapers overhead. The sound sent you reeling, bags crumpling to the sidewalk as you hurried to cover your ears. Down the street you could make out the screech of metal smacking against metal, see the flailing limbs of two massive robots staggering clumsily through the street as they traded blows with each other. Neither of them were one you recognized, the red Autobot with the oversized chest window wrestling one of the identical jet Decepticons into a clumsy headlock. As they stumbled about one of them trampled on a car parked along the curb, and you winced as the metal shrieked and crumpled under his massive foot.

Yeah, time to get out of here. You gathered up your bags and ducked into the alley between the buildings, slipping past trash bags and old graffiti, trying not to tread in any unidentifiable puddles. Off in the distance you could hear an emergency siren start to wail, hopefully signaling that whatever the space robots were quarreling over this time would be settled sooner rather than later. All you really wanted was to get back home without any further interruptions.

But as you emerged from the back alley entrance and found yourself hoisted into the air by two massive metal hands around your waist, you'd decided to kiss that chance goodbye. Your bags clattered to the ground once more, bread and fruit and canned goods spilling out around a familiar pair of pedes. When you glanced up to his faceplate, the glow of his visor was nearly enough to blind you.

“Rumble?!”

His visor dimmed enough that you could see his intake, which had just before been pulled into a maniacal grin, drop open in visible shock. Then, as quick as it came, it was gone, replaced instead with a tight, furrowed frown. 

“What’re you doin’ out here?” He barked.

“Buying food. Or trying to, at least.” You glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Ravage pounce on that yellow Autobot with the horns that was always showing up in the news. “You guys having a little play date or something?”

He scoffed out a laugh, quickly stifling it with a clearing of his vents. “Whatsit matter to ya? Didn't think you cared dat much about lil’ old me.”

“Rumble, what…?” Was he seriously pouting? Or maybe trying to guilt trip you? For what, making him cum? “What are you even talking about? I haven't seen you in like, two weeks.”

“Aww, real funny! You know what I mean! I let you poke around in my chassis and run up my charge, an’ after that it's radio silence? Whaddya humans call it… ghosting? Make a mech feel like second-rate shareware, why don't ya?”

You blinked at him once, twice, mind spinning as you tried to process his words.

“Are you- are you mad I didn't call you?”

His optic lights beamed as he bristled, armor flaring with a hiss before clamping tight back to his frame. “I told you to comm me!”

“Rumble, I don't have your number! I couldn't call you even if I wanted to!”

His grip went slightly slack as he stared at you, leaving you dangling from your armpits like a cat. 

“I… I hailed you my frequency. In da EM field.”

“Humans don't have… whatever that is. Do you have a phone number?”

He stared at you again, much longer this time as the discordant crashing of giant metal men continued in the background. Then, with a sudden jolt, you were slipping free of his fingers as he dropped you unceremoniously to the pavement. It wasn't a far fall, just enough to make your feet tingle upon landing. When you looked up you saw he had both servos covering his faceplate, a string of muffled curses eking out between the digits.

Your mind was reeling. He actually wanted you to call him? To… repay the favor? Heat pooled in the pit if your stomach as your mind conjured up wicked memories of his stifled gasps and whimpers, how he’d squirmed beneath you as you prodded around his spark chamber. How behind all the billowing and smashing and Brooklyn-accented bravado, when you got down to the core of him, he was actually kind of… cute.

“You- just- I don’t- Get outta here! Go on, scram! Before you get stomped on or somethin’!” His face plate was flushed and glowing as he shooed at you. You would go, that was certain, you really didn't want to get stepped on after all. But first you were going to say something potentially risky, deeply embarrassing, and undoubtedly very, very stupid.

“Come over.”

His optics shuttered, flickering for a moment as he stared down at you, frozen.

“What?”

“Not right now. Tonight. When you guys are done getting wailed on? Come over.”

He opened his intake, then closed it. When he opened it a second time you caught a wisp of steam slipping through the gap in his dentae. He swallowed, hard. He never stopped staring at you.

“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Awright. I'll be there.”

“Cool. Watch out for the yellow guy.”

“Huh-HGGRRK!?!” You stumbled back a few steps just in time for the Autobot to chuck Ravage directly into Rumble’s helm, sending him crashing into the brick wall beside you.

“Sorry! Are you alright?” The little Autobot called. “You should probably get out of here!”

He didn't have to tell you twice.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The news was just wrapping up their coverage on the ‘latest Decepticon assault’ when you heard a rap on your warehouse’s roll-up door. There wasn't much to see peering out the window, the street only haphazardly illuminated by old street lights. Not that you really needed to look, there was only one guest you were expecting at this time of night anyway. 

You'd stopped at home first, mainly to take a shower and put on something that wasn’t a pair of mechanic’s overalls. But for some reason the nerves hadn't hit you until right now. You clamped down on the prickle of… anxiety? Excitement? Somewhere between the two? As you pulled the strap at the base of the roll-up, the groan of shifting metal slowly gave way to reveal…

“Are you wearing a bowtie?”

“Not bad, eh? Don't say I never cleaned up or nothin’. Here.” As Rumble stepped from the dark street into the light of the warehouse he pulled something from his subspace: a large, green bottle that he offered to you pinched between two fingers. A bottle of wine. Judging by the label, an expensive bottle of wine.

“Where did you get this?” You turned the bottle over twice in your grip, scanning the details on the back. French Merlot, aged… fifteen years? Holy shit.

“Dat fancy Italian place on the corner of Fourth and Vine! What, ya don't like it?”

“I didn't say that!” Rumble positively beamed as you clutched the bottle. “I just didn't expect it, is all. Are you… wining and dining me right now?”

“Is dat a good thing or a bad thing? Your human movies said you’re ‘sposed to bring a little somethin’ somethin’ before, y’know,” There was a sly, lopsided charm to his grin as he pulled the roll-up back down with his pede, clanking shut behind him, “Before you let me run your charge for a change.”

“You know, you don't have to try so hard to im…press… me.” You trailed off, staring down at the bottle in your hands, then back up to him, then back at the bottle, then him again. When you made eye contact with him the slyness seemed to falter a bit, leaving behind something softer in his smile. Something a little more vulnerable.

 How did it take this long for it to click for you? He was wearing a bowtie, for Christ’s sake. 

“Oh my God you're trying to impress me.”

“Eh?” A fidgeting servo tugged at his bowtie- which appeared to be made of… an old seatbelt? “Nah, you're crazy! Dis is jus’ what humans are ‘sposed to do!”

“Oh my God you are!”

“H-Hey, what'd I say about you and gettin’ big ideas?” He tried to deter you, but your mind was already racing a mile a minute. 

“Do you actually like me? Like, want to date me? Do alien robots even date, cause I didn't know th- MMPH!”

With a massive metal palm pressed to your chest, Rumble pushed you back into your adjustable work table, still sitting at a mostly upright angle from the last time you'd repaired him. The table against your back was cold, a sharp contrast to the radiating heat from his servo as he pinned you in place with his hand. His face was inches from yours as he leaned over you, visor now gleaming with frustration and embarrassment.

“You can't get enough of dis, huh? Like pushin’ my buttons so much?” His servo pinned you down just a touch harder, forcing the air from your lungs in a breathy wheeze. “‘Oh, it's so fun to get Rumble all flustered! Lemme mess wit’ his head a lil more!’ Well maybe it’s Ol’ Rumble’s turn to do da messin’ around, huh? See how you like it when someone’s toyin’ with your sensitive bits.”

He bared his dentae as he spoke, another hiss of steam curling around your cheeks. It made your hair stand on end. A hot thrill ran through you, and you fought the urge to let your knees knock together, confident that Rumble would be able to keep you in place with brute strength alone. You could feel his thumb smoothing back and forth across your shirt, and as he glanced down at his servo the glare of his visor lessened slightly.

“...Why’s your fuel pump goin’ all crazy? You scared or somethin’?”

You swallowed a mouthful of saliva, willing your foggy mind to function. “Not… Not scared, exactly.”

There were a few seconds of tense silence, before the wickedest, prideful grin crept back up across his faceplate. 

“Oh? Is dat so?” His other servo rose to grip the top edge of the table, fingers molding to fit the dent he’d left there previously as he loomed over you. “Well maybe we oughta do somethin’ about tha- SCRAP!”

His flirtations were cut short by the sharp SNAP of the stabilizing lock on your workbench failing under Rumble’s weight and flipping 180 degrees over. The world pitched and spun as you tumbled backwards, yelping as the table flipped and deposited you upside-down on the floor, legs sticking akimbo in the air. From between your dangling feet you could see Rumble peering over you with his sly expression wiped off his visor by one of concern.

“Slag! I didn't crush your little pedes when you flipped, did I? Cause I don't no nothin’ about fixin’ up injured squishies.”

Miraculously, you had managed to make it through that ass-over-elbow fall without hitting your head on anything, or Rumble accidentally pinning your legs in place between his bulk and the table frame. “I’m alright! Just didn't expect it, I’m okay.”

“Dat’s good. Here lemme jus’-” You felt a servo close around each of your ankles. With an effortless tug Rumble dragged you back up, tabletop tipping with you as it clunked back into its standard, flat position. Of course, this now left you with your ass and legs dangling off the edge of the workbench, Rumble standing between them with a servo resting on each knee. “Better?”

You sucked in a breath, trying desperately not to look overeager. “Better.”

“Ah, slaggit all…” But instead of putting his servos back on you (where you most certainly wanted them) Rumble began to scratch at the back of his neck, failing to meet your gaze. “Guess I ain't really cut out for all this… whaddaya call it? ‘Winin’ and dinin’?’ Can't even get my servos on ya without fraggin’ it up.”

“Hey, I’m definitely not complaining.” You attempted a jokey tone, but it didn't seem to do much to dampen Rumble’s current self-deprecation. You let the playful edge fall away as you dropped into something a bit softer. “I mean it though. You don't have to try to impress me. I mean it's appreciated! But, y’know, I wouldn't have agreed to this if I wasn't already happy with the bot I was getting into it with.”

“Heh. Even if I end up crushin’ you a bit?”

“That's a risk I'm willing to take.”

He barked out another laugh, accompanied by a coil of thin steam hissing through his gap-dentae. “Well I guess I better make it worth da risk, shouldn't I?”

He snuck a servo under each of your knees, pushing them apart as he rocked his modesty panel against your clothed core. You stifled a gasp, the ridge of sturdy metal almost hot against you, even through layers of cotton and denim. The slow roll of his hips made your own stutter up off of the table, desperate for further friction.

“Cute. You like grindin’ on my panel? Should I make you bust jus’ like this?”

Despite the warm curl of arousal pooling in your stomach from the feeling, you knew this wouldn't be enough to get you off. Rumble seemed to know it too, letting out a low, pleased chuckle at your desperate expression.

“Jus’ yankin’ yer crankcase, sweetspark. I got somethin’ a lot more fun in mind for tonight anyway. Dat is, if you'll start gettin’ dese off.” He hooked a digit through your belt loop and gave them an experimental tug.

“Mmh, what, you don’t want to take them off yourself?” 

“Oh, I’ll gladly take ‘em off ya. Just figured you’d take care of dis part here…” His thick digits slid inward, ghosting over the button of your jeans. “So I don't gotta rip ‘em off ya instead.”

You weighed your options. On one hand, the image of Rumble tearing denim apart with his bare servos as if it was no more than wet tissue paper was far more appealing to you than you would have originally expected. On the other hand… well, they were new jeans.

“I got it.” You mumbled, quietly filing the image away in your brain for later use as you undid your button and zipper. “Careful with th- Oh!”

With a sharp yank, Rumble tugged your jeans and underwear off your legs and let them crumple onto the floor. Shoving himself into the space between your knees, you could only barely make out the top of his helm over the slope of your stomach as he knelt before you, spreading your folds with two digits and… staring.

You waited for a response, a quip, the slow drag of metal over your slick hole, but were instead greeted with silence. Something prickled in the pit of your stomach as you fought the urge to squirm. In the back of your mind you vaguely remembered that you hadn't really gotten to see what Rumble was packing, and only now were you grappling with the truth that you were trying to have sex with a truly alien being. Would your bodies even be compatible? Was he weirded out right now? You tried to pull your knees together, only to be stopped by a rough servo shoving them back open.

“...It's rude to stare.” You muttered.

“EY! I ain't starin’! I'm, uh, admirin’. Dat’s it.” There was a similar tightness to Rumble’s voice. You shuddered as a thumb stroked the crease of your thigh. “Soft… An’ it's supposed to be dat pink?”

“Y-Yeah… that's, mmh, normal.” You shuddered at a wave of steam curling over your sensitive heat as he spread you again, visor locked on your twitching entrance.

“Primus. And you're really gonna let me spike ya in this tiny little hole?” You could feel his thumb just brushing the rim and stifled a groan at the sudden, aching emptiness, the demand to be filled. “I don't wanna tear you in half or nothin’.”

“It’ll fit.” You whined, core tensing around nothing. “We’re, unh, we’re pretty flexible. C’mon, Rumble…” You forced your knees further apart, pushing your hips up into each of Rumble's far-too-light touches. His motor snarled in response, a massive hand gripping the inside of each of your thighs.

“Slag. You're really achin’ for it, aren’tcha?” His voice was lower than you'd ever heard it before, deep and resonant and primal. “But I ain't gonna give it to ya dat easy, doll. Gotta make sure you can take it first.” 

He raised his helm for just a moment, just enough for you to get a peek of his beaming visor and his wicked, gap-toothed grin between your legs. Then he descended, lathing his thick, hot glossa up the length of your cunt. You choked on a gasp, his servos the only thing keeping your hips from rabbiting up off the table. It was hot, his glossa thick and sturdy and drooling with oral lubricant, a thin layer of silicon over sturdier metal mesh dragging up through your folds.

“Easy, sweetspark…” You weren't the only one enjoying themselves. Rumble's low, rattling groan pulsed through your cunt. You swore you could just barely make out him groaning your name but it was lost, muffled as he pressed his faceplate further between your legs and his servos shivered where they gripped your thighs. He was messy and all too eager, arousal and oral lubricant spilling down his chin as his glossa stroked you; slow, deliberate drags up your folds until you were left dripping. At the apex he found your clit and took it between his dermas, a teasing hum rattling throughout his engine that had you gasping, thighs clenching around his thick helm. Your legs jerked as warmth bloomed outward from your core, hips writhing against the onslaught of pleasure. Dragging across his back your heel caught in a rounded divot, pulling a raggedy vent through Rumble’s dentae as his frame twitched.

“”Mmpfh!~ E-Ey, watch da spindle. It’s sensitive in dere…” He groaned, face still pressed into your cunt, servos only dragging your ass further off the table in his efforts to get somehow even closer to you. But instead you dug your heel in harder, pressing into the ridged divot and twisting your leg. The internal ring jerked with a sudden CLICK CLICK CLICK, each pop of noise making Rumble’s frame spasm like he'd just been electrocuted. “FRAG! Primus, that’s- ghh!~”

“Feel good?” You teased, breathless. His optics beamed back up at you, an oscillating, glistening red as you caught another peek of his gap-toothed grin from between your legs.

“So dat’s how you wanna play dis? Don't say I didn't warn ya, doll.” 

You barely had a chance to respond before the noise was punched out of your lungs in a sharp whine as Rumble shoved a thick, metal digit into your drooling cunt. Achingly hard, unrelenting, he flexed it against your rippling walls as his dermas nestled themselves snugly around your clit. The hum reverberating through his frame coursed through your body like a wave, hands scrabbling desperately at his helm as the twinge of pain at the sudden intrusion melted into thick, syrupy pleasure. 

“A-ah, fuck! Rumble, Rumble that's good, that's fucking good.~” Metal clanged as you lolled your head back against the table top, no longer able to keep it upright. Each drag of his digit, textured and ridged and unrelenting, sparked euphoria behind your eyelids. You felt every muscle in your body starting to prickle with pleasure, radiating outwards from your cunt and pooling in your head, your stomach, the tips of your toes…

You all but whined when he drew his digit away, dermas releasing your swollen clit with a slick pop. “C’mon! Rumble!”

“You want it dat bad, huh?” A shadow cast over your rumpled form as Rumble rose to his full height. From between your legs you could catch a glimpse of silver and blue panels fluttering and folding away, one of Rumble’s servos hiking the underside of your knee and the other stroking the gap between his thigh and pelvic armor as his spike rose to full attention. Christ, he was huge, the thick metal rod draped across your lower stomach as he rocked experimentally against you. Each thrust had the tip drooling a translucent, pinkish fluid you remembered scrubbing from the back of your jumpsuit, hot and vaguely smelling of well-oiled machinery and pooling across your bare stomach.

Rumble, for his part, seemed to be as entranced as you felt, visor vibrant and flickering as he stared down at the place his frame rubbed against your soft, supple body. A harsh ex-vent punctuated each roll of his hips, steam coiling around the corners of his slack, open intake as he pulled back, letting the tip of his spike slide wetly through your folds.

“Dat’s it, doll… You're gonna get exactly what you want. Gonna get you bouncin’ on dis spike, jus’ beggin’ for it…” His tone was low, entranced, just barely tinged with desperation. He dragged his tip through your folds again, and again, covering your cunt with his thick transfluid, making your breath hitch whenever he slid over your clit just right. You angled your hips up, guiding it right over your entrance, toes curling at the promise of pressure. 

But before you could utter his name again, or any other placation or demand, you felt the heavy press, the slow, aching slide as he entered you. It teetered just on the edge of pain, muscles twinging at your inner thighs as you forced your legs wider to accommodate his bulky armor. And his spike offered just as little give, covered with a thin layer of silicon like his glossa but still distinctly sturdy, inflexible metal. Your walls rippled helplessly around the intrusion, stretched to a delicious degree as he bullied his way inside you.

About halfway to being fully sheathed in your heat he paused, visor hazy and unfocused, intake still hanging open as he vented steam. A servo was resting on each of your hips, but while one stayed in place the other slid up, up, bunching your shirt around his digits and shoving it up above your chest. There his servo paused on your side, his massive thumb stroking back and forth over your nipple, quickly pebbling under the cool metal.

“Primus.” He breathed, distinctly softer than you ever remember hearing him before (and oh, if that didn't do just as much for your arousal as everything else). Finally, his hips began to move again, that intoxicating ache only beginning to border on near-unbearable when you could feel your ass and the backs of your thighs smushed against his pelvic armor. For another moment he paused, one servo cradling your hip and the other your chest.

Then he drew back, and thrust home.

The first thrust forced the air out of you in a desperate, sharp wheeze. This didn’t slow him, not in the slightest, digits sinking into the plush meat of your hip as he jackhammered into you. Each thrust had the entire table rattling, the sharp clang of metal against metal where his thighs hit the dented table’s edge. His quiet reverence had given way to an onslaught of erotic babble, visor locked on your face as it twisted and furrowed in pleasure.

“Takin’ it so fraggin well… You’re just made for takin’ my spike, aren’tcha?” He scooped his servo under your hip and lifted you further up, all but folding you in half as he loomed over you. His dermas brushed the curve of your jaw, just below your ear, and you could feel the heat of his ex-vent making your skin tingle. “You’ve jus’ been waitin’ for me to frag you stupid, plug up that achin’ valve til you can’t think of nothin’ else.”

“Mmmh…~ It’s so big.” You slurred, thighs slick with sweat and slipping on his plating as you struggled to lock your ankles in the small of his back. His frame shivered like an electric current ran through it, clutching you somehow even closer to his massive chassis.

“Nghh…~ Yeah? You love dis fat spike, don’tcha? Say it.”

“I love it!~”

“You want me to spill my load in this tight little valve, don’tcha?”

“Please!”

“Aghh, slag! Y-You’re gonna get it, sweetspark. You’re gonna take it all, j-just-mmfh!~” His vents were ragged and desperate, thrusts stuttering as he neared his release. You squealed as his thumb found your clit, rubbing the swollen bud in rough, tight circles. Euphoria was buzzing throughout your body, the ache of your lower back buried beneath the onslaught of pleasure and heat coiling in the pit of your stomach and blooming out through your limbs, legs shaking, hands trembling.

Sparks exploded behind your eyelids as your orgasm washed over you, hips jerking weakly against Rumble’s. There was no give to his spike at all, thick and steady and unyielding as your pussy squeezed and pulsed around it. You felt a flood of something molten spill into your core, filling you nearly to the point of aching as it spilled out around the tight ring of your hole around his base. Rumble’s frame stuttered, jittering, a harsh crackle of static and mechanical chatter pouring from his drooling intake where it was still buried in the crook of your neck. Finally, finally, his frame grew still. The only noise between the two of you were your shared, harsh breaths and the low churn of the occasional car driving past outside.

“Mmmmnnghh…” Rumble groaned, shifting his hips to pull his shrinking spike from your core as he rose unsteadily back to an upright position. You could feel transfluid dribbling from your hole as he tucked himself back away- thick, translucent globs spilling down the insides of your thighs and hitting the floor with a splatter. His engine gave a little, stuttering snarl despite himself as he dragged his digit tips through the shimmering line along one of your inner thighs. “I oughta take a picture of dis…”

“Don’t you dare.” You kicked weakly at his servo, legs now tingling with static as blood rushed back to them. He barked out a sharp laugh, effortlessly batting your foot aside. His servo rested atop your lower stomach and gave a teasing press, and you shivered as more globs of thick transfluid drooled from your cunt. “Jerk.”

“Eyy, you love it!”

“Unfortunately.” There was no real bite to your tone, you could tell by the way Rumble grinned. “Think you can give me a hand getting over to the bathroom before my knees give out?”

“Depends. Does dat count as you owin’ me a favor?”

[quetzalpapalotl]

Just as a fun fact, in basically every G1 Transformers thing I've seen in Japanese Optimus (or Convoy) uses watashi as his first person pronoun. This is the type of usage that denotes professionalism, although his speech patterns tend to be manly enough but not too rude. It fits his image as the Autobot commander who takes his duties seriously, but is still friendly. Characters with a similar vibe also do this, like the All Might dude from bna. If you watched Bravern you can see how Smith's pronoun changes from ore to watashi when he turns into Bravern.

Now, Megatron I usually see using washi, which in anime is an old man pronoun. Except in the All Spark manga (that I need to finish translating omg), where he instead uses yo (余). A pronoun no one irl uses anymore, and in anime has the connotation of being ancient, grandiose and pompous. Really fits the unhinged and full of himself Megatron that Tsushima portrays.

[bad-tf-fic-ideas]

(331) In another 17 million years, the war has faded from much of living memory, replaced by more recent wars about which the present day cybertronians feel more bitter. During this era, internal factions are more or less at peace.

The forums of Cybertron now simply facilitate bickering online about real mechanism fiction (RMF) and what counts as "in character" for the ever-popular characters of bygone eras. Today's fic idea is to use unsanctioned and dangerous time travel to launch beloved historical figures (Autobot and Decepticon high commands) into this future world and expose them to the mythologised versions of themselves inhabiting the RMF forums.

Options include:

As much as it's great that their biggest problem is the reputational despair of being beloved historical figures on the internet, Optimus is also aghast to encounter some lube-nosed buggy with nostalgia goggles talking down to him about how Optimus Prime was a real prime's prime and would never have lowered himself to friendship with someone so far below him as Megatron — they didn't do that kind of thing in those days, don't you know?

Starscream proves so frustrating to the locals that he starts an incendiary argument on a web forum about the technical capabilities of now-ancient war machines and gets the whole platform temporarily shut down when his interlocutors leak confidential military technology. It takes him less than two days and, incidentally, gives him access to modern military specs.

Jazz discovers that he is 50% of the most popular all time RMF ship. He willingly falls down a labyrinthine rabbit hole of JazzProwl fanfiction. He tries very, very hard to drag Prowl (less willingly) with him.

Megatron has refused to make an account because he knows himself well enough to know that he is not going to be able to hold back from telling people they're wrong on the internet. But ever since Soundwave sent him this link, he's been reading and digesting the history buffs' fan theories. The MegOp narrative is... shockingly compelling. :/

[lovinglonerhybrid]

Pubic library’s love Optimus prime!

Public libraries tend to rely a lot on government funding and local donations. now once Optimus here’s this he immediately begins to comb through the autobot archives for some books that he can donate. The librations are understandably veary confused when a truck load of books is dumbed by there doorsteps with the note ‘both the original text and English translation are available’ now these poor people open up the large books expecting another earth language but instead they get cybertronion. They put the English translations on display and they are all the subject of much scrutiny until someone actually sits and reads the texts and finds that they are very intriguing. There are story’s on ancient mystical robots that the books call primes. There are stories of war and rebellion and love and loss soon the library’s are hounded by meany dedicated fans of these mysterious books for Moore for a way to contact the author but there is nothing moor given to them in the form of books only donations signed by an O.P.

[dragonridernoobie]

I’m kinda embarrassed cause I messed up last time so I may go anonymous for a lil bit but I had an idea! Okay transformers=shiny reader who likes shiny things=crow behavior

And what do crows love?! SHINYS! Now to ideas for this Crow!Reader who keeps just trying to collect the transformers(wether reader is like a crow harpy/actually has bird characteristics or is human/crybertronian is up to u😌) ORRRRRRR she keeps bringing them shiny things cause she likes them and is trying to court them but they don’t get it, and reader is super possessive of her shiny things

Characters: Optimus(TFP or Bayverse you can pick!) Wheeljack, Ratchet, and Megatron(I’ve read all of the fics for him and need more:,))

Don't be embarrassed. We all do stupid shit, but if you still want to go anonymous then go ahead. Remmber one of my rules here are no shame. Also, I like this. I will try my best, hope you like it!

TFP X Avian Reader

Background info: The reader is an escaped experiment from MECH. They tried to make a super human but failed, this is for the optimus one.

Also, reader is an avian. I think it fits better. Also, this is what a avian looks like.

Optimus

Optimus was minding his own business. He was following an energon single intel he came across a massive trap laid out by MECH.

Inside he found reader.

He was amazed since he never seen a human with feathers or wings.

He definitely noticed how they acted like a bird. Meaning reader ruffled up their feather's, and tried to make themselves bigger.

Like an owl.

How an owl dose it

He talks calmy to it and frees it.

Reader takes this chance to fly away.

Optimus was surprised, worried, and sad that reader flue away but he hopes to find them again

Weeks past and optimus starts to find strange objects right outside of the base

Broken beer peices, rings, cans, even an engergon crystal once.

When he stayed up late to catch the intruder, he finds reader.

She was the one bringing the stuff to the base.

Optimus takes this opportunity to try to help and earn trust from the reader.

It takes a Hella long time.

But reader comes when optimus calls them and will actally bring him things he lost.

Even ancient objects that reader can carry.

Wheeljack

When wheeljack was captured by the decepticons he was brought into Knockouts lab.

(Shockwave wasent in the story yet)

While he hanged there, he noticed movement from the corner of his optic.

When he looks over, he finds reader looking at him curious from her contaner.

Wheeljack was definitely surprised since he knows humans don't look like giant turkeys.

He tries to talk to it, but reader just dose clicks and chirps.

When wheeljack has the ability to knockout...knockout...ya

He takes this chance to grab the container reader is in and runs out of the decepticon warship.

Once back at his jackhammer, he opens the container and reader quickly flies off.

Wheeljack definitely will tell the autobots but pains no mind to reader.

She's free, no longer in danger, no longer his problem.

After a couple of weeks after the incident, wheeljack flies off earth to find more autobots.

That's when he hears wierd noises at the back of the jackhammer.

He goes back to investigate. Preparing since it could be a con.

But he finds reader, making nest out of his tools.

He is surprised but tries to talk to reader.

He is surprised when reader hands him a can.

He learns quickly that shiny is readers favorite thing.

Ratchet

Ratchet was going thru the internet at base, looking for any spotting of weird things.

Like ancient shit.

That's when he came across a article about a moth/bird person.

He knew humans made up alot of woerd story's to scare there kind.

He would have dismissed it, if it wasent for the fact in the picture, this moth/bird thing had a necklace.

An ancient cybertronian artifact.

He looks at all the spotting and narrow it down in a forest in south America.

He takes a portal there, since he thinks he can handle this alone.

After a few hours of searching, he finds the necklace...with a bunch of other shiny stuff in a giant ass nest

He was amazed since all the reasurch he has done on earth life never talked about birds or anytbing making nest this big.

When he reached for the reckless, something swoops down and latches on his face.

Ratchet curses and tries to swat the thing off.

It makes a painful chirp and crashes into the ground.

When he looks at it, he is amazed to find a human...half bird?

He was amazed but seeing it hurt, he curses and helps it

He takes it to base and helps it

Que a stressful few weeks

Reader was a pain in the aft.

But ratchrt somehow earned their trust...also alot of shiny nick-nacks on his keybord.

Megatron

Megatron met reader when he captured a human and gave it to Shockwave.

Ordering him to make a hybrid.

Weeks later, Shockwave presents reader. A half bird and human hybrid.

Megatron wasent happy that it was dangerous but dosent kill it.

Nah, it's his pet.

Soon, reader gets out of the warship and dose there own thing.

Soon returning with shiny stuff they find.

They made a nest up high in the throne room

Megatron was annoyed by that but it dosent interfere with his planes so leaves it alone.

Soon, he noticed shiny things in his berthroom.

Like rings, cans, broken beer bottles, chip bags, anything shiny.

He was confused and went to Soundwave to see the recording who dared went into his berthroom

He finds reader flying in there and setting them in there.

He was confused.

Intel once day, reader returned to the ship with an artifact they just lost to the autobots.

He was amazed and actally impressed for once.

He praised reader and ordered anyone who hurts reader will lose their spark.

Reader was now a higher rank then starscrsam XD

Hope you like it!!!!!!!!!

[kell-eramis]

Skybound Spoilers ahead//

Okay so my thoughts may be a bit disorganized because it is 4 AM but I was thinking and doing research on two small essays I’m writing comparing transformers characters to tragic characters of ancient greece (and rome) and I realized a blatant parallel in Skybound

So I’ve long believed that Starscream’s arc in Skybound is reflective of a cycle of power and hubris that parallels Megatron, however until now I only thought it was subtextual—however, in the FCBD spexial we see Megatron’s fate.

He is shot by Starscream—who takes out his right optic— out of the ark and into space, thereby ascertaining Starscream’s position as leader during the first 7 issues of Transformers. This happens after Optimus cuts off his right arm.

During these 7 issues, we see Starscream twice again in a similar position, both within the comic panel and within his in-universe position.

During this confrontation, Starscream, where she was previously on the left, is now on the right, where Megatron was, as she confronts Cliffjumper and Carly. Attempting to squish another human—Carly—he is knocked over the edge of the Ark to fall onto the ground. This is both the same metatextual and physical positions as Megatron was in, and we once again see this with her and Soundwave’s confrontation.

Soundwave is now on the left, as the righteous usurper, while Starscream is on the right, grasping at the remnants of leadership and power, to no avail. Her right wing is blown off by Soundwave, once again paralleling Megatron, and his left optic is ripped off by Laserbeak. She is then thrown off the edge of the cliff, left to die just as Megatron had been.

HOWEVER: also in the annual we see that Megatron is not dead, and is vowing vengeance against Starscream (who had supposedly died already by the time this was published—yet alludes to a future confrontation).

This leads me to conclude that my previous hypothesis, that Starscream is in fact not dead, is quite likely.

However, it is notable that where Megatron’s right optic was taken out initially, it is Starscream’s left optic that is taken out. I posit that this is meant to parallel a previous non-canon story set during the G1 continuity, Redemption Center.

During Redemption Center, it is Starscream’s left optic that is damaged, and as a result of that plus subsequent injuries, she loses her memory and is found by the Autobots, where Optimus and her bond. At the end of the story, he is a changed mech, who realizes that perhaps by following Optimus’ example, not Megatron’s, she can lead the Decepticons properly. Since we’ve already seen Starscream emulating Megatron in the current Transformers, as well as these other parallels, I strongly believe we have not seen the end of Starscream, and we might be about to see Daniel Warren Johnson’s take on a redemption arc for Starscream.

[transformers-earthspark]

Leaked Synopsis of Season 2, Episodes 1-10

Synopses and titles were found on Rotten Tomatoes.

S2 Episode 1: Aftermath One year after Mandroid's defeat and the Emberstone's shattering, the Maltos go on a search for the shards. When a Decepticon creates a new foe from a broken shard, the Maltos realize life in Witwicky is about to be chaotic.

S2 Episode 2: In Ruins While searching for Emberstone shards, Mo and Thrash stumble upon ancient ruins where a Quintesson Executioner lay in stasis. The duo try to care for the creature, after it follows them home but they fail to realize it has a plan of its own.

S2 Episode 3: Control Alt Delete Hashtag helps the Autobots get rid of all the old GHOST stuff around base, which has her feeling like her GHOST van alt-mode is obsolete too. Meanwhile, Shockwave needs to acquire a GHOST hard drive that holds a key to Starscream's master plan.

S2 Episode 4: The Butterfly Effect Robby, Mo, Twitch, and Thrash attend a carnival where Robby develops a crush on a new student, while Twitch, Thrash, and Mo encounter trouble with the carnival's Fairmaster. As the heroes battle Fairmaestro, they unlock a new power: cyber-syncing.

S2 Episode 5: Togetherness Jawbreaker wants to cyber-sync, but he's left out. Walking home, he saves Aftermath from a woodland monster. The two spend the day together and accidentally sync into one awkward bot.

(Episode 6 is missing.)

S2 Episode 7: The Imposters Twitch and Spitfire accidentally swap bodies; it's hard for both to avoid getting caught behind enemy lines; the Decepticons plan to attack Twitch's friends and allies.

S2 Episode 8: Dude, Where's My Trailer? Optimus lands a prestigious photoshoot, so Robby and Hashtag take his battle worn trailer to get detailed. Unfortunately, the Decepticons steal it from them, leading the kids to race the clock to get it back in one piece.

S2 Episodes 9-10: Witwicky (Parts 1-2) Mo and Hashtag find a giant secret beneath Witwicky, and Starscream plans to use it for evil. To do so, Starscream needs to rebuild the shattered Emberstone. Robby rallies his family and the Autobots to stop him, and end the chaos once and for all.

Release date: June 7

[riskyraiker]

Hello!!! I hope you're doing well!! I would like to request cybertronian! Reader with like four arms and that's like the Queen or King of the battlefield in ancient Cybertron history (example: reader was the strongest Autobot ever in history and there's ancient data about reader and photos too ykyk what I'm getting👍🙏😭) and the reader then got summoned by Megatron or idk at that point but you can choose what happens!! :33 I hope this isn't too much😭

OH MY!!! I LOVE THIS!!! but reader is an autobot in this, please tell me if you want to see an decepticon version. You are a head taller than Megatron in this.

---------------------------------

You remembered everything about how you got killed, the crying before you lost your hearing, the optics looking in horror how the strongest autobot is about to die. Now? Nobody has any idea what happened, your body vanished before they started looking for it. Optimus carried your legacy as the one and last prime. He was your friend, but you didn't get to be friends that long. Since he was made so late and you met 10 years before the war started. It felt like you woke up immediately you fell down. Where am I? you think, but soon enough you hear a voice you recongize. Megatron. "The legend is real! Y/N! I have summoned you to help us decepticons to bring Cybertron back to life and rise as the Queen/King of the battlefields like you used to be!" used to? Used to?! "Since when I wasn't the Queen/King of the battlefields? And what do you mean summoned?" I put my upper hands on my waist and lower ones crossed. "You have been offline for quite a while, Y/N. Join us since I don't want to destroy such a fighter." What is he talking about? Before you could answer a spacebridge appeared. Well it's a groundbridge but you don't need to know that yet. Through the groundbridge walks Optimus Prime himself! "Orion?!" "OPTIMUS!" Both you and Megatron yelled. "Y/N DESTROY HIM!" Did he just order me around, used-to-be-low-level mech just ordered me around?! "Are you! GIVING ME! THE QUEEN/KING OF THE BATTLEFIELDS, ORDERS?" I jumped to attack Megatron, he dodged. Another swing and a hit aswell. Punching again, Megatron catched my servo, but is definitely struggling against all my strength. I almost forgot! I have four hands! You thought as you go and punch Megatron into his 'stomach'. You pick him up and throw him to the nearest cliff you see. "Y/n? It can't be." That low voice..turning around you look at the red n' blue mech. "Optimus?"

Optimus Prime

He missed you so much! So so so so much! No matter how emotionless he can be he definitely hugged you either at the spot where you two reunited or back at the base.

Before you were summoned and revived he used to look through your files. He always stared at the picture, trying to remember how you looked when he would do something smart or help them with something.

He would try (keyword! try) to spar with you as training, but he lost usually. (Much to his shock, he did think he was good at fighting.)

Would let you go alone to a mission (HOW) and lets you have fun with the kids every now and then.

He need help? You're there. He's losing to Megs? You're there to beat some decepticon aft.

He loves your four hands, anytime he would be hurt or just needs support all your hands would around him hugging him gently.

But in the battlefield? Oh oh I'm glad you asked. He doesn't know if he should be scared or proud to see you back in action. He is glad about that you would save him no matter what comes against.

Ratchet

He had heard about you when Cybertron still had life on it's surface.

He never believed you're real, until the moment he sees you.

Four arms!? He had to check them out (for science research of course) and see how they work, because he's a medic!

Anytime you would get wounded he's rushing over to you.

He would be against it that you would go on the battlefield. You ALWAYS have to confront him that you hold the title queen/king of the battlefield.

He does like how nice and helpful you are. Since you're the queen/king of the battlefield he didn't think you would be nice and help him around the lab.

If he needs an substitute for work when he needs rest you would take his place immediately for his sake.

Bumblebee

He would be a little scared of you since you beat Megatron so easily.

The moment you prove you wouldn't hurt any of the team he would be your son from now on.

You two always had each others backs.

He would love clinging on to one of your four arms.

He has any form of a problem? Don't worry you already know about it and you'll solve it.

If he would ever get hurt you would show the enemy why you hold the title as the queen/king of the battlefield

Before you arrived he used to read some datapads about you which he got from Optimus.

He would ask you to teach him how to fight.

Arcee

She would be amazed by the amount of arms you have, but won't show it until she trusts you.

Would trust you the moment you beat Megatrons aft in front of her optics, because none of the cons would dare to even poke him.

She would be grateful that you saved her and others in the Battlefield.

Would be surprised to find some old files of you and would be more shocked to read them.

You both are badass in Jack's opinion.

Since you know how awful it's to lose a partner in the team you won't question her or how untrusting she is.

If she would get hurt in the middle of a fight you would carry her with one of your hands and fight others.

Bulkhead

He would admire you and your strength. You just beat Megatron with ease!

He had heard rumours about someone like you when he was a wrecker back in Cybertron, but never believed them until now.

He always wants to go in battles with you to see how ruthless is the queen/king of the battlefields.

He was in trouble and cornered by vehicons in a energon mine? Those vehicons looked like they belonged in a scrapyard after you attacked them.

He would be a fanboy with wheeljack and praise the ground you walk on.

Training? Hell yea he would be in. Until he loses every single time.

Wheeljack

Oh oh don't even get me started!

Would hate you, but love your fighting style at the same time.

"pshh, show off." Could be heard anytime you and him were in the battlefield the same time.

You did start to grow on him. Suddenly you weren't so bad in fighting, suddenly you weren't such a show off, suddenly he seemed to like your presence.

Now? You two are the destructive duo.

Ratchet would be worried about you more than wheeljack.

"ouch, that just broke my spark docbot." He was definitely kicked in his aft after that.

He would go on drives with you so he could get to know you better. (Surprisingly since he's such a loner)

Smokescreen

He would run over to you the moment you walk into the base.

"YOU'RE REAL?!" apparently he has read about you before.

You wouldn't have any privacy for a week since he's like a golden retriever who clings to you 24/7

He would be flabbergasped how somebots in the team didn't trust you yet. "They're the strongest Autobot in history! Let's keep them, pleeeease!"

Like I said already. He's such a golden retriever. He needs your attention, he needs you to teach him fighting etc.

Now you're his new mom too! You got two new sons! Yippee i guess?

When he sees you in action, he has star eyes. You know when he talks about it when optimus first uses the star saber? He talks like that but even more excited!

Ultra Magnus

Has high respect for you, but would hate how reckless you can be with wheeljack.

He would give you a lecture, but it falls through deaf audio receptors.

The moment he sees you in action he would doubt you less.

He knew that you used to exist, well now that you're actually alive he can't help but feel a little bit relieved that the autobots have the upperhand.

If you would call him Sir he would let you off easier.

Was surprised when he lost his hand that you supported him best you can. He didn't think that the queen/king of the battlefields could be so soft.

Denied it when you suggested that he's your adopted grumpy son, since he's always so worried about you. (He is your son now, but doesn't let the team know)

-------------------------------------------

AN: I HOPE YOU LIKED IT AND I APOLOGIZE THAT IT TOOK SO LONG. I HAD A CAMP AND NOW SCHOOL IS STARTING SO I WAS BUSY😭😭🫶

[orions-hound]

i really like the idea of cybertron having multiple languages. we know theres different cybertronian characters for different factions and times in history but i also like languages based on location, species (predacon, maximal, insecticon, etc) and those types of things even though ancient autobot is the most prominently used and if you want to tilt you head and apply "this only SLIGHTLY makes sense" tf logic imagine the region a cybertronian came from on their planet impacts their accent and slang terms on earth

[transingthoseformers]

Thinking thoughts about how in the aligned continuity there are two characters referenced as the first Decepticon (Soundwave and The Fallen)

And how the relics were created/used by ancient autobots, but wouldn't tge autobots have been created in the Schism?

[writeyouin]

Optimus: We should be weary of humans, they fend for their own, as do we

Mirage, already getting a little kiss on the cheek from his soon to be alien babe: Huh? Didya say sumthin?

Mirage X Reader Drabble – A Leader’s Regrets

A/N – M’kay, this technically wasn’t a request, but my ass ran with it.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

As it turned out, Optimus Primal was right, and Optimus figured that he had a lot to learn about the humans who inhabited planet Earth. They had proved that in some circumstances they could be trusted, and that they could work with alien races, choosing to protect both themselves and others.

Initially, Optimus never suspected that they were capable of such compassion, however, he was glad to be proved wrong. Still, he had his reservations and wished to know more about the young race that would now aid him in keeping him and his own safe.

Yet, Optimus knew that he couldn’t trust just any human; it would be better for him to learn more about the few he had already met. He was somewhat familiar with Noah, having learned that he had put Mirage back together with whatever precious resources he could find. Optimus would have liked to learn more about Elena, but she had chosen to stay in Peru with the Maximals, studying the Ancient Ruins they had led her to. That left only you; Optimus knew very little about you, only that you had helped his and his kind, and that Mirage seemed to be quite taken with you, though that was no surprise considering that Mirage was likely to make a friend of any human, as he had with Noah upon meeting him.

Setting off, Optimus drove to a dilapidated warehouse that they were using as a temporary shelter until a better opportunity came along.

He let himself into one of the side rooms; it was the only part of the warehouse to retain its door, and Mirage had claimed it as his own. At the time, Optimus hadn’t argued, finding that young bots needed their space. Now, he regretted that descision as he walked in on you, the very person he was looking for, making out with Mirage as the bot held you up to his face.

You stopped at the sound of the door, flushing red when you saw Optimus, who hadn’t been the friendliest of bots thus far.

“Oh, um hi,” You gave an awkward half-wave.

“Yo, OP, do you mind, we’re kinda in the middle of something here,” Mirage said, placing you on his shoulder.

“Ah sorry, did you need Mirage for something, I can leave?”

“Or you know, you could stay, and he could leave. This is like, our date night, and you got all of these long-ass legs to explore.”

Optimus shook his head and walked away; he didn’t want to know anything more about you after all. That had been more than enough.

“You could’ve shut the door,” Mirage called after him with a small laugh.

You shook your head despondently, “Oh my God, I can’t believe that just happened.”

“Hey, don’t think about it. He may be Optimus Prime, but if you were an Autobot, you’d be Optimus Fine.”

Outside of the warehouse, Optimus wished he had left faster. He didn’t need to hear that either.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Interesting Megs practicaly dealing with his relatives and Death itself ouch. magine when Op brings the allspark back Unicron senses it and brings Meg back to life to drop at their feet for them to deal with

Starscream: Master! You're alive!

Megatron:*free of his roommates now, looks very haunted,* I'm neither that nor dead.

Starscream:.. Uh what?

Megatron: I will never be fully alive nor leave this mortal coil. I will never be able to repent fully for my actions. I am leaving now so don't look for me. Do not fight in my name because decepticons are dead just like i am

Megatron: But if i hear about you lot or anyone else making a council i will come back to personally hit whoever over the helm. Understood?

Op: I missed you

Megatron: I am trying not to have a breakdown here

Poor Megatron. He will have no peace after being released from the Unmaker's grasp. In all seriousness, I do imagine his time floating around in Unicron's mindscape where all the Titans chatter would do him some good. Being able to hear them speak in their strange tones would have to adjust his view of reality.

So many giants staring down at him like he's little more than an ant, their thoughts booming and powerful, beating down on him like a relentless force. Entities far older than him, all wiser and ancient enough to have seen the birth of galaxies. He, I imagine, reeled in their presence, unable to handle their oppressive wills. Just a few weeks under them being more than enough to force him to think, especially as each tried to speak to him.

Moon attempted to call out to him, but so many millennia dealing with entities such as Unicron dampened his ability to recognize his limits and the weakness of others. Megatron, unable to handle the great Titan's calls, screamed into the void. Moon did not try and contact him after and instead merely observed the spark of the one the Autobots feared so greatly. Megatron could always feel Moon watching and listening. There was no respite from his gaze.

Mars did not speak often, but when he did, Megatron felt the earth shattering might of a being who held no love for him. Mars knew who it was that led their world to fall into its bitter state. He knew that Optimus and Megatron were the source, and while not angry at either, his bitterness did not lend Megatron any favor in the mindscape of the Unmaker. The few times he spoke up, his words were heard by all and embedded into Megatron's very spark.

"You who tore our world apart, do you not lament the loss? Was the devastation worthwhile? Did the sacrifices of beings far greater than you mean nothing?"

"I meant to give our people freedom."

"And yet you gave them war."

"It was the only way. Nothing would have changed without conflict."

"Perhaps. But the destruction had no reason to echo this long. Tell me, how many sparklings have been wrapped into your war?"

"..."

"I see you as a mere sparkling. Small, frail, foolish, easily demolished beneath my pedes. And yet I value each child of Primus equally. Do you understand? It matters not who you are or what power you hold. Under Primus, All Are One."

Pluto spoke only in visions of violence. Megatron saw destruction far greater than anything he had wrought. He watched planets burn in the wrath of a Titan angry at the loss of so many. He saw civilizations turned to mere ash. He saw a Titan hardly bigger than Omega Supreme throwing everything into a desperate battle against Predacons in order to defend another Titan and their charges. He saw energon split and scars gained.

Pluto did not speak, but his visions told Megatron more than enough. Violence had its reason, but in the end, it was dooming. To a being who watched stars burn out, Megatron's war, while brutal, meant very little. Pluto knew his anger, and in Pluto's sight, it meant nothing. Megatron never felt so small as when Pluto looked down upon him in distaste.

Unicron never needed to speak. The fact that Megatron resided within his mind was more than enough for the warlord to see visions of entropy that left him pondering the meaning of his existence. None of the Titans regarded him with warmth, that was save for Earth.

She was used to reaching out to her fragile offspring, and so her words were soft. She called out across the void, wrapping her attention around Megatron like a cloak. He never saw her, nor did he know who exactly she was. Unlike the Titans, she had no form that he could sense aside from a vague sense that she was below the ground of the terran world he once threatened to cyberform. Surprisingly, she held no anger toward him. Instead, he felt her pity and her sorrow on his behalf. She saw his mind and his memory and she whispered of how sorry she was that he'd been burdened so long. She swept him away into dreams of places he had never seen, some on Earth, and others somewhere amongst the stars.

She was a comfort, and through her murmurs, Megatron found a degree of peace and contemplation.

"You were held in bondage. I can see the echoes of your shackles. You hold them close to yourself even now."

"I serve no master, not anymore."

"You are a slave to your past and the pain it brought."

"I am not! I am Megatron of Kaon, Champion of the Pits! I have freed myself and my people!"

"That may be so. But the things you sought to escape from live on in your actions. The scars that dug so deep into your frame have now been mirrored on those around you."

"What?"

"Your anger has infected your fellows. Your once righteous rage has turned into something dark. Sweet child, you must let it go. It is not too late to end this madness which has possessed you."

Megatron listened to Earth and shook under the gazes of the rest. He was not sure how long he spent with them, but when Unicron forced him to return to the living realm, he was changed. Seeing everything from the perspectives of such mighty beings... everything felt so much more wasteful. He had not needed to destroy as much as he had, nor had Optimus needed to drag their war on in response to his madness. The pushed each other ever onward, but free of Unicron, Megatron decided to be the first to put an end to the cycle of madness.

When he turned and faced the Autobots, he knew that one day he would have to suffer for his crimes. But for now, he needed time to think and Cybertron needed time to heal.

And so he took to the stars, guided by whispers of the Titans that guarded Unicron so diligently. His thoughts drifted to Halley's Comet, and he found a destination. Perhaps there would be merit to traveling alongside the living memorial that was the youngest of the Titans.

[witchofthesouls]

I would love to see you write some more culture differences between the bots and humans. If you wouldn’t mind :0 I wish we saw some in TFP

Same here. I love seeing world-building and deep lore, especially with other fantasy/sci-fi civilizations.

TFP gave us so much and so little at the same time. It's like going to a restaurant, you have a drink and great appetizers, so you're constantly waiting for the entrée that isn't coming!

TFP is also really fascinating when looking at it with the lens of the caste system and its deep roots within and among the 'bots, even their reduced circumstances. I get the feeling that Optimus is way more casual in way with his team than what the decorum would demand, even with his barriers.

The Autobots would find human cityscapes as quaint. Even the dense sprawls of megacities with towering high rises are paltry reminder of what they're used to.

Cybertron was a planet where its wilds had been tamed. Either reshaped or completely stripped. The Wastelands is/was an apt name for the baren landscapes outside the established city-states.

It wasn't just a large difference in public transport and zoning and sheer scale. It was also the functional design and architecture.

City-states mimicked the layouts of Titans' ground alt-modes. They didn't sprawl outward. Those had set perimeters based on Titans' outer defenses. Instead, the cities expanded up or down.

It wasn't limited to just a parking structure or secretive bases. Whole levels housed entire communities of what castes resided there: occupations, hospitals, sewage, refineries, restaurants, entertainment, and so much. Some mecha go without ever seeing the sunlight or feel real wind, especially those at the lowest of the system. The lowest castes are set all the way at the bottom, among ancient tech and dilapidated buildings. Sorting and recycling what could be kept and what must be sent back to the upper levels.

The concept of "open to the public" would confuse the Autobots. The Golden Age operated its society under the strict overview of a caste system, which expanded to "where" and "what" individuals of a caste could access.

Monster truck rallies fall under bloodsport to them. Bulkhead once scavenged money to watch and do small bets at high-stakes drift racing and lower-tier gladiator matches below the ground. Mecha still had to pay entrance fees to it.

Parks were under the Artisanal caste. Blending murals of legends, careful tending to fauna that are functionally extinct that was tailored to the agreed aesthetic, live music from specific pupils of masters, playing on instruments that merged with the gardens, so it was difficult to tell what was a tool and a plant or animal. And entry to any of it was only allowed for certain castes.

Universities were thriving, self-contained communities, and major points of power. No one off the list would be allowed into its grounds. All visitors and short-term guests were deeply screened and monitored. There is no such thing as "dropping by." Everything is meticulously planned and prepared. Unless a faculty member personally vouches for a guest, they must heed the numerous rules or a risk permanent banning.

Academia had long since been territorial over its talents and quality of its programs and people. They refuse to allow anyone outside its jurisdiction to bully one of its own. No matter the rank or caste, it will close its inescapable jaws around an outsider.

The fact that someone could go to a private university and simply jog upon its grounds is mind-boggling to the 'bots.

As well as libraries and their courses and workshops. So anyone can go? Anyone?! Everyone has access to the knowledge!? Can anyone simply go join a seminar on local gardening? Anyone can just go to a playground and start swinging or playing basketball or flying a kite or dancing to music? Anyone?

Bulkhead had a lot of questions for Jack and Raf since they're locals compared to Miko.

"So anyone can go?"

"Yeah. I used to spend my recess looking up bird anatomy and Ancient Greece and Egypt."

"You had a thing for ancient civilizations?" Raf asked.

"Doesn't everyone?" Jack shrugged. "Pharoahs and gladiators and old gods? We ate that up with mystery books or Goosebumps."

"I read Sherlock Holmes and the Chronicles of Narnia."

"Those are classics. Hey, did you get into The Lo-"

"Hold up," Bulkhead cut in, crouched down and leaning more forward, as if sharing a secret and quietly ask, "So anyone?"

"Yes. Anyone." Jack repeated, rapidly firing off each point with a finger. "Their family. Their friends. Their classmates. Their coworkers. Their pe-"

"Even, let's say, a construction worker. He could just go inside and pick up, I don't know, quantum physics? Anatomy of any frames? Gardening?"

"Sure." Raf squinted and moved to wipe off his glasses with his sleeves. "Clubs and people like to donate more to expand the base. Some of the college professors even leave early editions of their textbooks." Raf readjusted his glasses and beamed. "It's for easier access people and for an industrial copier."

"Oh..." There was a wealth of meaning in that small noise.

"You..." Jack struggled on the concept. Perhaps giant metal aliens didn't need books and could download information from their own internet. "You don't have libraries or schools?"

"No. We did." Bulkhead sighed. "I just wasn't allowed into them."

Out of all of them, Miko would be the to come the closest to understanding them in some ways. 出る杭は打たれる. The nail that sticks out gets hammered in.

As a transfer student from Japan, Miko does have instances of culture clashes with her American classmates and host family.

She's loud. She knows that. But Americans are a different breed with no restraint. In some ways, admirable. In others, incredibly frustrating.

Miko is used to a far heavier workload with long hours after-school and a busy city life. Jasper qualifies between a small and large town that she can't walk around easily on her own with the blazing heat and bitter cold nights and the lack of a car or a bike.

Detention in the US is a joke to her. Stay in school after it's over? She's used to doing that back at home with clubs and cleaning it. On a Saturday? Same thing. Some clubs back home ran long hours over the weekend. Do homework? She already finished it during lunch or between classes because she wants all the other time to herself and the 'bots.

Because Bulkhead gets a realization just how free the kids' social mobility is, he tries to get on Miko over her scrapping at school and her assignments, especially after Ratchet's high jacking their science projects resulted in failure. And that was another strange blow since Ratchet is a medic and a scientist. She's smart and quick and can be rough around the edges and so everywhere, and, to him, Miko deserves everything she could want in her short life. (And wasn't that also a terrifying concept to grasp? To just live and die under a single vorn?)

At first, Miko was getting annoyed because it's similar to the well-meaning nagging her host family does, but she reads the worry he has, and they have to really sit down and speak and soothe over his misunderstandings.

It comes as a huge surprise to her that Bulkhead can just download a language into him. Context and colloquialisms would be missing, and he needs work because he's a mix between extreme formality and, much to her delight, yakuza. And it's all because of her own frustration that English is her second language.