#Matrix Bearer

[pluralsword]

Some prime teamup photos we were finally able to do - full named shown Autobot cast of Prime, the IDW1 Autobot/Last Decepticon earth command team near the end of EXRID, and as many matrix/enigma bearers + smokescreen and pyra (potential primes) and primes as we could fit in front of Primus and our largest backdrop (ie all our autobot figures we have and two members of the Thirteen, and thanks to the first draft of TFTM, Daniel Witwicky).

[stonecrusherdrawsthearts]

[autoacafiles]

[witchofthesouls]

Personal headcanon that Primes have a preference for odd or peculiar mates. They don't give a shit if their partner is a different species, some even consider it a bonus. Hybrids are most likely to happen since the Matrix of Leadership is all about Sparklings no matter the flavor.

Small human not afraid to object a Prime's decision despite the vast difference in power? Interest intensifies.

That's the true power of the Matrix. It has peculiar and varied tastes in mates, especially since it can compute the probability of viable offspring.

If it comes across something real interesting in genetics, powers, or feelings via its current bearer, then there's a high chance of pitter-pattering tiny feet in the near future.

[paci-transformers]

You know...

...maybe lying to each other about how it felt to take the Matrix was a bad idea.

[kytherion]

OOC (mun post)

My G-d he really is Senator Shockwave's brother.

@sharkteethies may have been right that he could get Epistemus to put on a whole body again

[nova--spark]

AU where the Matrix allows it's bearer to speak to Primes of the past

But also Primes of other worlds, other realities, with wisdom they need or do not have for their own home.

Imagine please, a young Orion who sees visions when the Matrix first binds itself to him, of many different versions of himself.

A version of himself in a world where he was no great warrior, just a humble repair worker, who stumbled onto fate accidentally with his crew, working hard to make something of himself.

A version of himself tutored by the Scribe, who was a friend to his greatest enemy, who's words were his sword.

A version of himself, or at least part of himself, bound to a descendant of his people, or perhaps even ancestor, who's form is that of a beast.

A version of himself, marred by war and betrayals by humanity, but still trying to hold on. Still trying to just keep his family alive.

A version of himself, who is brand new to this planet called 'Earth' still, and beginning to bond with humans. One who accepts that Cybertron cannot be home now, but maybe Earth can.

And each version of himself he sees, he can seek wisdom from.

And they too can seek out his.

[combjelli]

I'm getting back into digital painting after a long time and I'm a sucker for religious imagery Rodimus so please pretend that peacock tails work this way lmao

This is from an au in my brain where Cybertron is the Cybertronian god and matrix bearers become angels. Rodimus keeps running off to do what he wants and Cybertron keeps making his tail a little harder to lug around in an effort to keep him grounded (it doesn't work)

[lets-try-some-writing]

A Cycle Unending: Snippet #1

The Matrix must have something to fuel it as it empowers its bearer. A strong frame or a powerful spark.

Orion Pax had neither of these when he took it, and his life became limited. Thus, to ensure that the Autobots would not be destroyed in his absence, he created a means to continue on, if only in spirit.

(I be thinking up more angst. Don't judge me its almost finals I'm stressed.)

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[PRIME-0]

To take the Matrix was an honor. That was what the priests told him.

Orion believed them. Optimus did as well. 

“You will not last long. Your frame was too weak to accept this burden.” Alpha Trion stood by his side, holding Optimus’s shaking servos. The Master Archivist was right. Looking at his frame it was clear he did not have much time left. The Matrix was sucking him dry, ripping away vitality and youth with a viciousness that was not intended.

The relic needed a strong frame or a strong spark to fuel it. Optimus had neither. When he took the relic, his body was beaten from the first fires of war and his spark was weary from so many sorrows. There was nothing for the Matrix to consume, and thus it was beginning to devour him. Optimus could tell it did not want to, the relic almost seemed to weep as it worked.

But there was always a cost for power. And this… This was the consequence of his decision to accept the gift Primus bestowed.

“How long do you believe I have?” Optimus’s voice rumbled, deep, gruff, and worn. Over the course of a mere few stellar cycles, he had aged exponentially. Taking the Matrix left him spry and willing to take on the world at first. But with time, that strength faded into cold and uncaring wisdom that spoke of a grim truth.

He was going to die soon.

“A few stellar cycles at most. Your frame was only strong enough to withstand it for a vorn, and half that time has already passed.” Optimus bit his lower derma, anger and anguish building up in his vocalizer in a pained cry he refused to voice.  The Matrix was too much, too powerful for his spark and frame to handle. It would bleed him until he had nothing to give and his people would have no one to lead them. Megatron would rule their world, and countless innocents would perish in his rage. It could not be allowed. Optimus could not leave his people so soon.

“I will not abandon my people. I will not leave them without a leader.” He spoke with conviction, his mind already running through any possibility that yet remained. He doubted he could preserve his life, but perhaps he could find a way to ensure his people endured.

“You won’t. There may yet be a way to ensure Cybertron always has a Prime to guard it.” Alpha Trion’s rumbling voice washed over him, soothing Optimus’s turbulent thoughts. If Alpha Trion believed there was a way, then Optimus was inclined to believe him. His master had not been wrong yet. 

“What must I do to ensure this?” He could feel creases under his optics shift as he looked up at his mentor. He had not been marked by such things before. Age was catching up to him so quickly that he hardly had time to process it. There was not a single moment to waste.

“Come with me. We shall begin work immediately.” Alpha Trion pulled on his servos lightly, his field wide and almost desperate. Optimus vented deeply and nodded. Whatever was to come needed to be completed quickly. He could feel his strength fade with every passing cycle.

Time was not on his side.

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“You are sure this will work?” Optimus adjusted his glasses as he leaned on his cane. His vents came in tortured rasps, age having taken its toll. He could hardly see even with his glasses, but he still understood what he was looking at.

“Yes. The cycle has been completely automated. As long as those who come after you contribute what is required of them, there will always be one to carry the mantle.” Optimus nodded as he sensed Alpha Trion begin to shift away. A young life flared within his spark chamber, one he had been cultivating for the last few stellar cycles he had left. It had no other parent. The newspark was a piece of him and him alone.

For that reason, it would be weak. But because it was of him, it would be accepted by the relic he bore.

“Will they live longer than me?” He voiced his burning question, sorrow growing deep within him as he felt the newspark in his frame shift and flare. No one deserved this fate… but it was better that one line carry the burden rather than leave a whole world hanging by a thread, hoping one of their Primes would be worthy.

“No. Their frames will be stronger, but without an additional contribution of CNA, their sparks will not have the fortitude to withstand the Matrix for much longer than you.” A shaky vent escaped him as Optimus stepped forward and placed his servo on the glass of the tank in front of him. He hated that this was the fate he had condemned his line to. But who else would be able to shoulder the burden? Who else would have the knowledge and the wisdom to fight against Megatron effectively? 

It had to be him. There was no other choice. 

“Will they care for my loved ones as I do?” Worry grew within him as he thought about all those that he would be leaving behind. Elita-One, his dear Conjunx, would be without him soon enough. How long had it been since he’d seen her? He honestly couldn’t remember. Once he knew what the Matrix was doing to him, he pulled away from everyone. He didn’t want them to see him as he fell apart.

Ratchet, Jazz, Prowl, Ultra Magnus, Ironhide, Springer, Kup, Blaster… how many others would suffer in his absence? Would they even know he was gone when all was said and done?

Was it really worth it?

“They will be perfect copies in frame and memory, but every spark is unique, even ones split from a singular source.” Optimus sighed as he registered the answer given. There was no assurance that those who came after him would care for his loved ones as he did.

Yet another cost he had to pay for their people’s salvation.

“I understand.” His voice echoed in the cold underground lab. He dreaded the feeling of loneliness those who came after him would experience. Forged into such a clinical and lifeless place… it was horrific. Still, it was the only way to keep them safe until they could take up their inherited function.

Slag, he really was just as bad as the Council. Here he was, deciding the future of countless sparks, giving them a function they may or may not despise and predetermining their entire lives. How cruel he was…

“I’m so sorry. To all those who come after me, I pray that you may find it in your sparks to forgive me.” He leaned against the glass of the pod, tears gathering in his optics as he felt the newspark within him flutter in concern. It would not be long now. Soon, the cycle would begin.

He could only pray that it would have an end.

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[PRIME-1]

From the moment he opened his optics for the first time, Optimus saw the world differently. 

He didn’t notice much at first. His inherited memory guided him into integrating into normal life perfectly. There was work to be done and he was young and excitable. He wanted nothing more than to live each cycle to the fullest and end the war as soon as possible. That was his design, and the memory left to him told him as such. 

It felt so close to him. For in his optics, each cycle had the weight of an entire millennia. To his young mind, all he had to do was speak to Megatron and things would work themselves out. The original knew Megatron, and he was sure his inherited memory would afford him the diplomatic power he needed. He did not realize how different he was when he saw how deep the grudges between Cybertron’s citizens ran.

He learned he saw things differently when he looked at his fellows. They felt almost alien to him at times with how distant everything seemed for them. Ratchet would easily devote whole stellar cycles of his life to a single project or thought without hesitation simply because the time meant nothing to him. Jazz would wait in solitary positions or live undercover for vorns at a time when required, never flinching or hesitating. Optimus could hardly comprehend that level of dedication.

Blaster would put his very spark into communications and song, entire deca-cycles lost in a blur of rhythm and composition. Prowl would live and breathe his office and the work therein, never so much as stepping out unless summoned. Optimus did not doubt the officer would remain in his office for entire millennia if left to his own devices. Even Ultra Magnus’s actions left Optimus reeling. He could barely comprehend the level of dedication the commander put into filing and keeping things organized.

The things they saw as so minor, so very miniscule… Those things accounted for almost the entirety of Optimus’s lifespan. It was impossible for him to view the world as they did. Time was a precious thing for him, and every decision he made was all the greater because of it. He knew his time was limited, and so he did everything in his power to make the most of it. His fellows did not understand when he threw himself into battle to plead with Megatron, using the memories he was gifted to speak reason. There was no way they could comprehend how much it hurt him when he failed to succeed in his mission. 

All those around him operated on such grand scales. They couldn’t understand why Optimus tried to move so quickly, why he pushed for offensive strikes and peace talks one after another without end. They tried to tell him to stop, to bide his time.

He couldn’t afford to do that. Six stellar cycles was all it took for his youth to have run its course. 

His limbs began to lose their strength, his enthusiasm dimmed and quieted. As age began to creep upon him, he looked upon his creased face and began to understand. He wasn’t upset. He wasn’t angry. He was content in his life running its natural course. His fellows would be horrified if they aged so rapidly, but they saw the world in millennia. Optimus viewed it all in cycles, each just as important as the last.

His time for proactive action was over. His duty was to ensure that everything stayed in one piece until it was time for the next one to take his place. His life had not been without meaning. He had gathered knowledge, and with his knowledge, the one who came after him would know better than to waste his limited life trying to speak to Megatron the way Optimus had.

He knew when the time was right. The cycle he found himself unable to walk without pain, he smiled in contentment and bid his inner circle farewell. He walked the same path he followed when he was freshly forged. Now world weary and aged, he entered the place he was created and collected one of the many datapads lining the walls. It was empty. They all were. Each was to be a record, a comprehensive collection to be consulted when the memory of the dead was too great to bear.

He settled in the only chair in the clinical space and wrote of his experiences. It was pleasant, a final farewell in a sense. His life had been short, but it had not been without meaning. He was the first, it was to be expected that he would fail. 

As he finished his writing and put the pad away, he vented deeply. Part of him wanted to be afraid as he stepped into the pod that had given him life. But as liquid rose and his consciousness faded, he found himself content.

The cycle would continue.

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[PRIME-5]

Optimus had known it was going to happen eventually. Those who came before him tended to spend their final cycles concerned, worried that this exact scene would play out for them or their successor. Up until his life, there had been no need to really think about it. All of the friends the original made became their friends as well. There was nothing strange. It simply was. Even the lingering fear of connections the original held becoming problematic wasn’t much of a concern since most were scattered across the planet.

But of course, being the fifth, it seemed he was the unlucky mech who needed to face the Conjunx of Orion Pax. 

“You aren’t him.” Elita-One stared him down with a stoic expression. Her field was held close and her optics flared with grief. Optimus didn’t even bother to lie. The memory he held told him it was a waste of effort.

“I felt our bond shatter into a million pieces five vorns ago.” Her servos clenched into fists and her frame shook as she tried in vain to remain composed. Optimus held no affection for the femme before him, but the original had loved her dearly enough to send her away as he faded. Optimus would not dare disrespect ties made long before his forging.

“And yet here you are. A perfect copy.” Her voice dipped into a sob, anguish building in her field in stuttered bursts. She was hurting despite how long it had been since the original passed away. Optimus’s fellows really did see things so very differently. What was five generations old to Optimus was a fresh wound to the femme before him.

“Tell me. How are you here? How is it that you bear his name and his face?” Elita’s lower derma wobbled as she gazed up at him, hope and anguish mixed into something so powerful Optimus almost wanted to weep alongside her. What was he to say? What would ease her pain?

There wasn’t anything he could do. The original was long dead, and Optimus was one of many. 

“The Matrix was too powerful for him to carry. It is too great for all of our number.” The femme paused, watching as Optimus knelt down lower, showing her his face. Her expression fell as she saw him, understanding beginning to dawn in her optics.

“Someone had to carry this burden. And so he and all those who have and will come after him are given this great mantle.” Elita touched his face, her digits running along the creases that were already forming. Optimus was six stellar cycles of age, and with his prime behind him, he was beginning to deteriorate. 

“We do not live long, but I and those who come after me will do everything in our power to fill the void he left behind with the vorn we are afforded.” Tears fell from Elita’s optics. Optimus smiled gently. He felt nothing for this femme, he could not be the mech she wanted. But he could be a friend, a companion until his time came and his successor would have to take up the mantle.

“This was the choice he made. We are products of his love for you and all of Cybertron. And so, until this world no longer needs a Prime, we shall use what little time we have to make things better.” He brought Elita into a hug, memory guiding him as he did so. Elita enjoyed tender touch, even if it came from one who was not her Conjunx.

“I am sorry I cannot give you the love you have lost… But if you would let us, we would be your companion until this cycle ends.” Elita sobbed and Optimus rubbed soothing circles onto her back. She was not his Conjunx, but she was part of his duty.

“I will stay with you until my time comes. Then, those who come after me shall take my place.” He spoke softly, allowing Elita to cry. She wept bitterly, cursing and hissing at the original until she could give nothing more. Optimus held her through it, a soft song escaping his vocalizer.

His life had no success when it came to ending the war. But a wound was healed, and his interactions with Elita-One lived in his memory as a beacon of hope. Stellar cycles passed, and when the time came for him to traverse the long path back to his birthplace…

He did not walk alone.

“Thank you for everything.” His murmur was lost as he entered the pod, the newspark that would take his place fluttering in his chassis. The last face he saw was Elita-One’s, and he took pride in knowing that she was able to smile as the liquid of the pod engulfed him.

[pluralsword]

If anyone has a story with Arcana Magnus in it on Ao3 and wants to help make the tag Arcee | Arcana Magnus (Transformers) common (the tag it finally occurred to us to use for our story Sparkflung Trust where the orig cont Arcee uses that title and is a Matrix Bearer), have at it, the tag now exists! We suspect there are other stories out there where Arcee is a Prime but don’t know how many use the name :3 In any case, we salute y’all who have told a Matrix-bearer Arcee story

[gravelsong]

Ah yes, a tale as old as time: Ratchet telling Optimus to stop being self-sacrificing for one goddamn minute

Anyway, I REALLY like how Ratchet's point of view in this situation makes complete sense. It seems like the route he's going in is that he holds a strong sense of unease towards humans, which would make sense based off of what he's seen so far (while Optimus sees the good in humans, recognizes them as being similar to cybertronians), but even putting his distrust aside, Ratchet's logical viewpoint makes complete sense. They're stranded in an unfamiliar land, their hope of getting home is slim, most of them are unconscious or borderline dead, and the decepticons are still prowling around. Optimus is their last hope. He's their leader, the bearer of the matrix, and if Optimus dies from putting the safety of humans into his hands, then the humans will lose their protection anyway

That last panel is also so strong. The two of them are stubborn, and they know that, but they're standing strong in their beliefs. It feels hopeless, but they have to keep going

[mychlapci]

Imagine being a temple attendant for the temple of Iacon. Being a high priest probably requires a mental fortitude like no other if you really, really want to commune with robogod

Every Matrix bearer gets their bodies reformatted through some bullshit technomagic, and suddenly they have extra hinges integrated into their pelvises so that they can spread their legs wider than anyone else on the planet. Their valves also become extra flexible and super wet.

We're talking like so wet they'd have any ritual take place on an altar with a drainage channel collected the slick to be mixed with energon and shared around afterwards.

Most people however are massive pussies who are scared at the prospect of literally seeing Primus though, so they often just stick their heads up in there and yell their demands into the mesh walls squeezing and leaking profusely around their faces, and the Matrix bearer will just have to endure no matter how good it feels.

If Primus is especially annoyed with them, he'd send a signal to the Matrix to force an early overload out of the host, most of the time successfully ejecting the poor soaking fellow from the gestation chamber and channel. Utterly embarrassing if said mecha are uppity nobles or senators playing at piety.

If they make it all the way in though (1 in 50 bots do really), they get a free hug and therapy session while the host gets thrown into perpetual overloads as long as they're all filled up with Primus' presence.

In the recent years, however, due to the Matrix no longer having much of a connection to the senate-elected Primes, this ritual has to be conducted with a substitute host. And this substitute has to be someone with the sufficient capacity to bear the Matrix temporarily, is intimately familiar with the feel of its presence, and has a faithful enough spark to accept robogod spiritual cum in their souls for the ritual to be successful.

All of this is just to say that Sentinel will sometimes force the Matrix into his hot police secretary's chest, and proceed to stick his head up Prowl's valve and chamber to yell at an uncooperative deity while Prowl has no choice but to edge endlessly for the whole duration, as he doesn't have the true connection that would allow Primus to SMS an ejection orgasm into his frame to end the farce early.

every time i think we've gotten very specific with our fetish scenarios, you people come up with something like this, and i think that's just so deeply wonderful. Crawling up the Prime's pussy to talk to god is one way to do it.

Prowl never got any pleasure out of it when it was done to him, though. He was left shaking and quivering as his valve spread so wide open that it could take a whole mech inside, legs kicking up in the stirrups...

[witchofthesouls]

Lately all I can think of is TFP Optimus being demon bait. Amongst every iteration that I seen with the Matrix, he feels more like a placeholder involving the relic than an actual Champion for Primus. Plus TFP is the only one who doesn't retain any knowledge about his past as Orion Pax.

Placeholders are easier to tempt than champions since they aren't fully protected or warned of the danger. The Matrix of Leadership practically rats him out to anything supernatural when you consider it acts more like a vessel unlike other relics. Optimus is gonna have a mixed time should a demon hone in on him.

I get what you're saying. All the strange and, let's face it, very sus Artifacts are painting a very wild picture.

Personally, while I do believe TFP Optimus is a legitimate Prime, he isn't a fully realized one. It gets weirder with the Canon lore in the Aligned verse that the Matrix was housed with Prima's Star Saber and that Optimus is supposed to be the reincarnation of the mysterious Thirteen. Plus, Metroplex from the games vouched his status as a Prime: "Metroplex heeds the call of the last Prime." (Fall of Cybertron game)

I wonder how come the writers didn't go with the Primal Artifacts being semi-sentient? It would really make sense with the mythos and immense powers, especially since those tools can be only wielded by a Prime. So the building blocks were there. Or, have the ghost of Prima within the Matrix that's controlling new ordained champions, and it's intefering with Thirteen's connections? The Matrix has an established history of reformatting new bearers, so is it a big surprise that they're turned into Prima's thoughts of a prefect guardian? Prima has different Aspects and Domains compared to his youngest brother.

The themes of identity and self-determination are there. I think he internally struggled with it. Is he Orion Pax of Alpha Trion? Optimus Prime of Prima? Are they one and the same mask? Does he remember the Wilds in his dreams? Did he have hopes and plans for reconstruction? At night, does he recounts all the steps that brought him to that point?

But yeah, TFP!Optimus would be a succulent prize for a supernatural entity. The Matrix is both a beacon and lighthouse. To see a mortal God-King or a divine champion drowning in uncertainty would turn the very dangerous or very desperate towards him because a contract could be established.

Weirdly enough, out of all the Autobots, I think Optimus would have the easiest time navigating any potential entities. Orion Pax lived and breathed in doublespeak as an archivist directly sponsored by Alpha Trion himself. He knows the intricate dance to steer between treacherous allies and hostile enemies and how to be very leery of certain agreements. Orion was stuck between impossible contradictions of his status.

Ratchet has had certain privileges afforded by his function and frame. He's comfortable taking over things and saying his piece, especially among the current team. He also has a poor opinion of non-Cybertronian anything. He would either be killed for insolence and disrespect or be ensnared in a dream that gives him his deepest wishes. Arcee, depending on your viewpoint, is either lucky or unlucky, especially since she survives all her partnerships. Even Jack Darby, no matter how careful, has a human lifespan, which is seafoam to a Cybertronian. Something would latch onto her anger and grief. Bulkhead can be a very considerate soul. Some being would be charmed by the mech. Bumblebee is kind, and Smokescreen can be impulsive and so very clever. Traits that are endearing to many entities in old tales.

Optimus would have his hands full should something start sniffing around the base.

[mommyhelgayanderelover]

Yandere! Primus

Primus slept for many millions of years and when he woke up, he did not expect at all to see that the universe was filled with organic beings, almost equal in numbers to mechanical life. It was astonishing and intriguing at the same time. Unlike his brother, Primus knew the value of all life

It was when Primus noticed you that he noticed his Brother. Unicron was inhabited by organics, and it couldn't help but make Primus even more confused and interested in you.

You were just helping Prime's team and didn't plan on the goddamn God of another race paying attention to you at all. But it was too late.

Primus reached out to you through the Matrix of Leadership and Prime, but it wasn't long before he realized he wanted you personally… Be that as it may.

Primus really meant you no harm: he spoke to you through the reflections in the energon crystals, tried to reach your heart. But you were afraid. You were very afraid of the Light God

And Primus had no choice but to go cyber-forming. Only by giving you the spark could he bind you to him forever.

You died, but in return, you got a new life and an infinite afterlife. You're terrified.

Yandere! Unicron

Unicron, upon waking, would be terrified if he could feel fear. His body was inhabited by billions of hideous blood sacs. And among them was you, to your misfortune.

The gnat that had been helping the last of the Primes drew the attention of the Dark God quite unwittingly. And yet you did it

You were too brave and foolish to protect the bearer of the Matrix of Leadership. But there was nothing you could do when the ground literally opened up beneath you.

The Earth's core took you in its embrace, and you're slowly going insane because you have no choice. You're haunted by nightmares. Scary purple nightmares and a stone face.

Unicron would like to turn you into a Cybertronian, to have his blood flowing through your veins… ..but you don't need that. All your flesh, all your blood, is already him. All that's left is for you to accept that fact

[robotsandjunk]

U are so real for ur coswave takes so u have any coswave nsfw hcs to share??

Do I!

They have the sweetest most loving most gentlest sex ever, Soundwave is absolutely enamoured with that ufo and Cosmos wants Soundwave to be able to experience the gentler aspects of life

Soundwave will often spend what seems like hours worshiping Cosmos’ frame, he loves his curves and is near obsessed with the fact Cosmos has no harsh edges

In a way Cosmos is the more bold of the two, he’s the one to suggest more out there positions like the sideways quintesson or the matrix bearer and bring in toys, whereas Soundwave might occasionally ask to be spanked or something

They actually tend to go for tactile overloads rather than any full on interfacing. They’ll be cuddled together nuzzling their faces together just feeling along each others frames, they know every inch of each other but every time they both treat each other like it’s the first time

Cosmos does go out of his way to tease Soundwave sometimes, like taking advantage of his outlier and calling out for Soundwave when he knows Soundwave can’t leave what he’s doing and join him

Soundwave is actually a pretty big fan of watching Cosmos, be it from a chair in their bedroom or over one of his camera. Cosmos likes to surprise Soundwave when he’s working late by putting on a little show in front of one of the many cameras dotted around

I’ve already said they hold hands a lot but I’m choosing to elaborate, they could be doing anything and hands will be held. Soundwave getting spanked? Cosmos is holding the hand attached to the arm held behind Soundwaves back. Cosmos sitting in Soundwaves face? Soundwave has his hand pinned beneath the one holding Cosmos’ waist

Soundwave has a slight obsession with Cosmos’ chest and how round it is, he’d spend the rest of his life with his face buried in it if he could, unfortunately he can’t so he settles for shoving his face into it sometimes and being able to grind his valve against it until he overloads

In turn Cosmos adores Soundwaves thighs, he likes to sit on the floor with Soundwaves legs around his neck and rest his head on his stomach. Cosmos also like to stick his spike between Soundwaves thighs and have Soundwave just sit on Cosmos’ lap whilst he teases him

They’re very big into intimacy, often times they’ll cuddle with their armour off or gently caress each others sparks

[cozzzynook]

Hurt/Comfort idea

Optimus has fallen leaving Rodimus in charge and the bearer of The Matrix. While struggling with both his grief and new found leadership, both Cliffjumper and Bumblebee offer to join him on a patrol one night. The brothers talk about everything that has happened the past few month and slowly start re-forming their once strained bonds, after sharing some jokes they suddenly hear crying coming from old ruins. After speeding towards the ruins Bee let outs a gasp before grabbing a fussing sparkling.

Couple hours pass and Rodimus is paying the sparkling a visit who is currently staying in the Med-bay. Once Roddy finally gets a good look at the bitty he feels his energon run cold, the sparkling is a similar shade of reds and blues as his carrier almost looking like a mini version of Optimus. After getting over the shock Rodimus starts taking care of the bitty since they couldn't find the bittie's creators and that no one wanted to adopt them. For Rodimus this strange sparkling slowly starts healing his wounded spark allowing the red mech to become both a better leader and adoptive carrier.

Hope you enjoyed :>

I did enjoy.

To me it seems Optimus sent the sparkling while in the well pf sparks so his bitty would both heal and become the leader he’s always known him to be.