#RODIMUS SWEEP

[what-have-i-unleashed]

the yearly transformers robot husband polls are starting again...

[istherewifiinhell]

Okey b4 i leave this season behind. The intro tho

[Visuals warning: Flashing Lights, Eye Strain]

[VD: The intro to Transformers Headmasters (87 anime). It shows of the new characters gimmick [seperating their heads from their bodies as their are actually small bots piloting large bodies] Introducing characters and locations, some bots come from a fortress over earth, the humans in eva suits on the moon, the villians swooping in by a planet, the train bots merging into a giant mech. A blistering space battle fought with lazer guns and energy swords picks up. The music is pumped up feel good thing with lyrics about stopping war and fighting for future peace, while repeating the Transformer and head-on/head masters chorus. END]

[tinydefector]

Can i request a Sunstreaker×Reader(gender nuetral)nsfw one shot?

Attachments- Human Effects

Sunstreaker x human

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: nsfw, touching, naked bodies, interspecies relations.

Fic masterlist

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Ambassador hums to themself as they watch Sunstreaker, Bluestreak and Traxies mess around and mingling. It was nice to see the blue mech so care free after the recent events. In truth they believe everyone is excited to be heading back to Cybertron.

 "You boys better not damage each other God forbid Optimus or Ironhide and Prowl see you three damaged." They call out with a playful smile. Sunstreaker turns his helm toward the human Ambassador with scoff. "Don't worry, we know better than to damage the merchandise," he replies cockily. While he enjoys sparring with his convoy mates. 

Still, he can't help snickering a little as Bluestreak leaps at Traxies, sending them both tumbling across the floor in a tangled pile of limbs. The two mechs wrestling playfully, but Sunstreaker knows from experience just how wily Bluestreak can be in a scrap.

Sunstreaker observes the ruckus with amusement, crossing his arms over his broad chest, Bob chitters and squeals as he watches the two mechs play, looking to his master as if to ask if he can join. “Go play Bug” he hums, Bob runs full speed before clambering onto Bluestreak's back, a shrill cry coming from the Insecticon as he attempts to wrestle Bluestreak off Traxies. 

They shake their heads in amusement before turning to watch Sunstreaker as he saunters up to them. "Hello Sunstreaker, what can you do for you?" They tilt their head slightly, eyes flicking up to his optics. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were missing out on all the fun." He gestures casually toward Bluestreak, Traxies and Bob who are still play-wrestling amid peals of laughter, and chirps.

He redirects his focus to the Ambassador, azure optics sweeping over their form in a slow, appreciative once-over. One hand comes up to buff a spot on his broad chest, as if to draw attention to the gleaming sheen of his plating. 

"What do you say we find somewhere a little more private, got something I want to talk to you about" he suggests. But his subtle hint isn't lost on them after how forward Ratchet had been. 

"Christ Sunstreaker, are you hitting on me now too?" they groan out softly, but no true anger or discomfort is in their voice. Sunstreaker lets out a sly chuckle at the Ambassador's reaction. "That wasn't what I was intending but if you take it that way I'm sure I could make an exception for you," he replies with a wink. "Besides, a mech like me would be a fool not to take advantage of such charming company, while it lasts." 

He begins walking with them, making his strides slower so that they could keep up with him. " unless you're already catered for? I have heard rumours of certain other members of our crew. Not that I blame you." 

"No I'm not spoken for, just..... it's complicated" they state softly, not really wanting to have more mechs listening in on their conversation. "Let me guess you saw the pin up photos?" They ask, eyes flicking to Sunstreaker again.

He chuckles lightly. "Ah, I see. 'Complicated' seems to be the way of things around here more often than not." He gives the Ambassador a knowing look, he himself had complicated flings with Rodimus, Skids and Mirage. 

"Let's just say Ratchet has fine taste, and leave it at that." He hums waiting to see how they would react to those words, he was hoping Ratchet hadn't seen the pin-ups and made a move, he didn't think the Medic would, he was in a relationship with the Ex-con, but he never knew with the CMO. 

 "Ah so you know..” they mumble softly. It makes Sunstreaker realise that Ratchet had indeed made a move on them. 

“ I felt like if I do anything more than I already have I'll have the whole crew at my door. And I'm already trying not to have issues with command on Cybertron and not to mention the Galactica union." They mutter.

"Affairs of the spark can certainly make logistics...complicated," he acknowledges with a wry quirk of his lip plates. "Especially where command protocols and off-world politics are involved. Primus forbade any diplomat to find themselves on the wrong side of bureaucracy!" It's a chuckle, a true one from the rather snarky mech.  

“Please don't spread it around, I don't need Magnus up my ass over me having a fling With the crew let alone the CMO” they pleade hoping that he understood enough how bad the situation was for them if it got out of hand, 

 "Easy, your secret is safe." He shoots them a conspiratorial wink. They laugh loudly. "Sunny no offence but you are one of the least subtle or Discrete mech I have ever met" they giggle while looking away. He grumbles as he looks away feeling ashamed to have been called out. "Guilty as charged" he admits under his breath. 

His reigns in the snarky comment he wanted to shoot their way. "I wanted to.. frag how do i say it.” He grumbles again before trying to figure out how to broach the subject, he had never been the one trying to get someone in berth, it was always others trying to get him into their berth. 

“I would like to invite you to um… Frag im slag at this. Would you be interested in interfacing with me?" He manages to ask, feeling the heat under his plates making his frame uncomfortable due to the situation.

 The Ambassador freezes up, head snapping towards the yellow gold mech with surprise on his face. “ I…” they start only from Sunstreaker to hiss at himself for being stupid. “no I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked” 

"I don't have anywhere to be for the next cycle, I was just checking up on Traxies" they blurted out to him. In truth Sunstreaker was a very pretty mech, they just never took him as one to be interested in humans. 

Sunstreaker's optics flash brightly as he catches the Ambassador's words. "Well now, a whole cycle to yourself?" he asked, almost speechless, excited and intrigued.  

"As it happens, I find myself also unexpectedly free for the foreseeable cycle," he adds casually, leaning down to scoop them up into his servos and arms.  "Only conditions are, I can't have others finding out about this, do not talk about it with others" they state.

 " I'm not looking for a relationship,  f you have issues with that or me being with others, I'm occasionally sleeping with others, please reconsider" they explain. Sunstreaker nods slowly as he considers the Ambassador's terms, mouthparts pressing into a thin line.

"Very well, i won't tell anyone," he promises, voice low and serious. "As for your other arrangements...that is your affair, not mine." Truth be told, he wasn't looking for a relationship either, but he was rather intrigued to see what a human was like in berth. 

The trip to Sunsteaker's website is a decent one but now that they are in there they look around admiring the different decorations, paints and detail supplies he had around.

A smug smile crosses his faceplate. "Like what you see?" he purrs, leaning down until his face is mere inches from theirs. "I take great pride in my collection. Only the finest."

They look over the many different paints and rims. The only way they could really describe it was like walking into a hat and shoe collectors house. "Woah fancy paints you have, never seen you in anything but the gold yellow" they hum while walking around. Sunstreaker chuckles slowly as the Ambassador examines his collection of paints and detailing supplies. "They are my pride and joy," he says, optics glittering with undisguised delight. "You'd be surprised how much work goes into maintaining my finish." 

He watches them with rapt attention as they wander, taking in the array of exotic pigments and high-grade polishes. A pleased rumble escapes his vocalizer when they compliment his prized finishes. But then, with a playful flick of his wrist, he sends a plush detailing cloth sailing toward the Ambassador. They yelp in surprise, and Sunstreaker can't help but burst into raucous laughter at their reaction.

"What, did you think I'd let you admire my collection without getting your hands dirty?" he teases, stalking closer. "This frame doesn't clean and polish itself, you know." he looms over them, one digit tracing the curve of their jaw. 

"I do so enjoy a little...hands-on assistance," he murmurs, voice dropping to a low purr. They just stare at him for a moment. "You... you brought be back here to be your personal polisher didn't you, I can't believe I got swindled like this, and here I thought you were looking for something else" it's a playful huff and teasing.

But the glint in his optics and the sly quirk of his lip plates give away his true amusement. He leans down until their faces are mere inches apart, " no, my dear Ambassador, I had quite a different sort of hands-on activity in mind." His voice drops to a sultry purr. 

Bringing them up to his chestplate, he rumbles, "There, that's much better." His field practically crackles with smug satisfaction as he gazes down at them, azure optics burning with unveiled desire. "Now then, let's see what those nimble little fingers of yours can do," he murmurs. One thumb gently strokes along their side in a teasing caress.

 "I have a few...sensitive spots that could use your attention." 

"Oh do you now?" They chuckle while sitting down on his plating. Discarding their uniform top as they grab the polish and cloth. One hand pressed to his chassis as they give him a playful yet seductive look. Fingers trailing down the ridges and edges before they throw the polish cloth at his face with a laugh. 

Sunstreaker lets out an indignant squawk as the polish cloth hits him square in the faceplate. His optics widened in shock, field flaring with offence. "Why, you cheeky little--!" he sputters, swiping the cloth away. But despite his outrage, a frown tugs at the corners of his lip plates. 

"Oh, you're going to pay for that one," he growls playfully, optics glinting with mischief. Careful not to jostle the Ambassador, he shifts his weight, feinting as if to make a grab for them. "I'll have you know I don't take kindly to such flagrant disrespect of my finish," he huffs, trying and failing to keep a stern expression.

Sunstreaker may be vain, but he's not above a bit of playful back-and-forth. He settles back, They settle back down on his plating, relaxing into his servos. The cold metal trails up their sides, a slight shiver running down their spine as he drags his digits over their body admiring how different human physiology is to his. He could see why the rest of the crew were so taken by the ambassador.

"Fascinating," he murmurs, digits ghosting reverently over their skin. He can't help but marvel at the sheer softness and pliability of their form, so different from his own rigid, metallic plating. "You know," he purrs, voice dropping to a low, sultry rumble, "the rest of the crew really has excellent taste." One thumb brushes teasingly across their jaw. "I can certainly see the appeal..."

His free servo comes up, fingers lightly caressing their chest in gentle, exploring sweeps. Sunstreaker is utterly captivated, his focus zeroed in solely on them. "Christ Sunny, you just interested in teasing me, with how thirsty you bots are online I was expecting you to be a bit more handsy" they tease.

Sunstreaker chuckles lowly. "Thirsty, you say?" he rumbles, optics glittering with mischief. "In fact," he purrs, leaning in until his breath ghosts across their skin, "I'd say I'm positively famished." His grip tightened.

They let him remove the shirt, digits caressing their skin as he trails further down their body. Sunstreaker savours the soft moans that escape the Ambassador's lips, his own vocalizer rumbling in response. He trails feather-light kisses along their skin, his glossa darting out to taste the subtle nuances of their unique scent and texture. 

They hear the hissing and clicking of his plating moving, shooting a look over their shoulder. Their eyes go wide when they see his spike. "Holy shit, Sunstreaker, there is no way that will fit in me at all!" They stutter out. 

Sunstreaker sulks, a frown falling across his faceplate. "My mods aren't that bad. don't you worry your pretty little head about that, Ambassador," he sits up ,moving the, to the berth as he stands up and moves over to storage cubes.

"You're welcome to look through the options, if you'd like," watching as he pulls out different mods for them to look at. "Umm do you have anything smaller?" Sunstreaker huffs. "Smaller?" he rumbles, "I'll have you know, Ambassador, that nothing about me is 'small'."

He rummages through the storage cube, plucking out a few choice attachments with a flourish. "But fortunately for you, I do believe I have a few. more modest options in here somewhere."

 "Let's see now..." he muses, "where did I put that petite little number?" A groan escapes his vocalizer. "Ah, here we are!" Sunstreaker presents the selected attachment. "I think you'll find this one much more manageable," he quips. 

They watch as he brings out the smaller spike, this one looked like it wouldn't impale them, it's a ‘small’ silver attachment with little details etched into the metal along with little balls along the length of it. "That one looks better in size, but umm. How exactly do you.." they trail off. Eyes flicking from the small spike in his servo and the large one between his thighs.

"How do I...?" he prompts, one optic ridge arching upward in a blatant display of smugness. He tsks, shaking his head in mock-pity. "Allow me to demonstrate."

With an exaggerated flourish, he swaps out the sizable spike for the more modest attachment, the change accompanied by a series of slick, metallic clicks and whirs. 

"There, you see?" he purrs, flexing his hips to show off the new addition. "Perfectly...proportional." 

______________________

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[cozzzynook]

ok ok I've just been sweeping when I randomly thought of bee being the oldest out of his siblings,then I remembered one of your older posts about Rodimus being the parentified older sibling and wondered what would it look like if bee was the parentified sibling instead.

And then another thought hit me:

you know how this fandom has a crap ton of fics with bee being the youngest bot on Cybertron or the last survivor of Cybertrons last generation? Well,what if bee wasn't the last one,or even the youngest.

Bee is one of almost two dozen of younglings who managed to survive,only he's older than all of then by a few months. There aren't any adults around to look after them so as the oldest bee takes care of them.

If it's ok can I write you a small fic for this?

Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it!!!

[in1-nutshell]

How would the lost light crew react about human reader throwing up on them by accident ?

The amount of possibilities with this prompt! Might revisit it in the future to add more! If you have more bots in mind please let me know. These characters were picked at random since you did not specify.

Hope you enjoy!

Tailgate, Rodimus Prime, and Brainstorm’s reaction to Human Buddy throwing up on them on accident

SFW, platonic, mentions of puke but nothing graphic, Human reader

Tailgate

Tailgate had sneaked in an alien fruit to Buddy on an off-world expedition. He felt bad for Buddy not having fresh food and having to eat from the boring looking containers.

He saw the fruit in an alien market that was titled organic friendly. To be fair, the fruit itself looked like one of the fruits Buddy had shown him.

An apple, was it?

Well Buddy thought that Tailgate had found the apple at a human friendly shop. So, they ate it.

That was not an apple.

The next they knew; they were puking their guts out all over Tailgate’s pede.

“BLUURGH!”--Buddy

“OH PRIMUS! BUDDY, BUDDY WHATS HAPPENING!? EVERYONE MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!”--Tailgate

“What’s going on panic—AAAAHHH!”--Whirl

Tailgate literally runs past him sweeping him off his pedes.

Meanwhile with Cyclonus

“…Somethings wrong…”--Cyclonus

Tailgate is screaming and crying. He thinks he poisoned Buddy and now they are dying. He is breaking down walls trying to get to the medbay.

By the time he gets to the medbay Buddy had puke all over their face and some on Tailgate’s servos. He doesn’t care at that moment; his priority is Buddy right now.

Ratchet has to take Buddy aside while First Aid and Ambulon calm Tailgate down.

Tailgate apologizes profusely after finding out that the fruit made Buddy puke. He is now very wary of any food that Buddy consumes judging them if they are safe for his friend to eat.

Buddy cleans Tailgate’s servos as an apology for puking on him.

“Hey Fleshy I heard you puked your insides on Panic Button here.”--Whirl

“Yeah I—”--Buddy

“What do I have to do to see that?”--Whirl

“What!?”—Buddy and Tailgate

“Don’t even think about it Whirl!”--Tailgate

Tailgate running down to halls with Buddy in his servos followed by Whirl.

“There is no escape!”--Whirl

“Tailgate go faster!”--Buddy

Meanwhile with Cyclonus.

“…Something just happened…”--Cyclonus

Rodimus Prime

Rodimus didn’t believe that Buddy got carsick.

They can travel through space just like everyone on board and not get sick.

What’s the difference?

He secretly wanted to drive Buddy around on a joy ride like the ones he saw on Swerve’s earth movies. He wants to try and replicate the moves from ‘Fast and the Furious’.

He got his chance to drive Buddy one night.

Swerve’s was having yet another party for its grand reopening. The party was great and all, but Buddy was getting sleepy and decided it was best to retire for the night.

Rodimus saw this as his chance.

“Don’t worry Buddy, I’ll get you to your habsuite!”--Rodimus

“Oh, thanks Roddy—Wait what are you doing!?”--Buddy

“Giving you a ride! Now hang on!”--Rodimus

“WAIT RODDY NO!”--Buddy

“HAHA isn’t this—”--Rodimus

“BLURRGH!”--Buddy

“OH PRIMUS!”--Rodimus

“IM SORRY! IM—BLURRGH!”--Buddy

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THIS WOULD HAPPEN!?”--Rodimus

“I—I DID TRY—BLURRGH!”--Buddy

Rodimus freaks out and brings them to Ratchet.

He gets scolded several different times, but he feels like the puke was enough.

Buddy gets better and cleans Rodimus several different times as an apology.

Rodimus was shining like a star for a good month from the amount of wax Buddy put on, not that he minded.

“Roddy I’m still so sorry for doing that.”--Buddy

“Hey, hey I was the one who started it. I did kind of deserved it for not listening to you.”--Rodimus

“You sure did!”--Ratchet

Brainstorm

Brainstorm just wanted to show off his aerial skills to Buddy.

Buddy had never seen him transform and thought he was a monoformer. He was a bit offended that Buddy thought he was and sought to fix that.

Transforming, he told Buddy to climb in.

Buddy did and he took them out on a joy ride. He did some tricks in the air that made Buddy laugh. But after three more times Buddy stopped laughing.

“Getting bored, are we?”--Brainstorm

“No… its not that—”--Buddy

“Don’t worry I saved the best for last!”--Brainstorm

“Wait what?”--Buddy

“Here comes the double loop!”--Brainstorm

“Wait Brainstorm don’t!”--Buddy

“Here we go!”--Brainstorm

“BLURRGH!”--Buddy

“IM SORRY! IM—BLURRGH!”--Buddy

“Buddy are you okay!? Nevermind we are taking you to Ratchet! Hold on!”--Brainstorm

“BRAINSTORM DON’T—BLURRGH!”--Buddy

Brainstorm jets over to the medbay which causes more puke to come out. He is more worried about Buddy not dying.

He is interested in the fluid than he is upset about the mess inside. He wants to experiment with it.

Buddy cleans his interior several times as an apology. Brainstorm has been gleaming for weeks.

“So, this is what your fuel becomes when you eat it.”--Brainstorm

“Yeah, disgusting I know.”--Buddy

“Not at all! This is fascinating!”--Brainstorm

“I’ve never heard someone say that puke was ‘fascinating’.”--Buddy

“I wonder if I can make a gun that shoots this?”--Brainstorm

“Brainstorm no.”--Buddy

“Brainstorm yes!”--Brainstorm

“BRAINSTORM NO!”--Buddy

[elfdragon12]

Transformers: Lord of the Rings AU

The Fellowship:

Gandalf: Optimus Prime

Aragorn: Hot Rod/Rodimus Prime (G1 specifically)

Boromir: Springer (Imma fist fight anyone thinking that Boromir wasn't a good man)

Legolas: Perceptor

Gimli: Brawn

Frodo: Bumblebee (more IDW2 Bee)

Samwise: Rubble

Merry: Cliffjumper

Pippin: Powerglide

Others:

Sauron: Unicron

The Witch King of Angmar: Cyclonus

Gollum: Tarantulas

Elrond: Ratchet

Arwen: Lifeline

Elrohir: Sunstreaker

Elladan: Sideswipe

Galadriel: Beta

Celeborn: Alpha Trion

Haldir: Drift

Saruman the White: Megatron/Galvatron

Grima Wormtongue: Starscream

Uruk-hai: the Sweeps

King Theoden: Kup

Eomer: Blaster

Eowyn: Arcee

Lord Denethor: Deathsaurus

Faramir: Prowl (G1 specifically)

Tom Bombadil: Wreck-Gar

Goldberry: Rum-Maj (Nancy probably fits better, but Rum-Maj actually does things)

Fatty Bolger: Seaspray

Bilbo: Windcharger

[wifetomegatron]

If you're taking requests, can I make one for Whirl with a human fem SO who's just as insane and violence happy as he is? Bonus if you include the reactions of the LL crew to this.

"Oh fuck, now there are two of them!"

my love is a sharp, wild thing. (whirl / fem!so). slightly suggestive. mentions of fighting & violence because it's whirl lol

" Impressive moves, sweetspark."

The second the landing pad latched itself back onto the ship, Whirl was already out to greet you. Yellow optic, wide with something playful," Care to show some to me tonight?" 

You placed your hand across your mouth, feigning shyness as your lover picked you up in his claws to nuzzle your forehead, " Oh, stop it you."

Somewhere in the crowd of weary, injured mechs, someone muttered in disgust about how you were still covered in energon, drenched head to toe in Decepticon remains. But of course, they wouldn't understand. They wouldn't — couldn't possibly understand the beauty, the seduction, of having you wild and dirty and battered. Yet triumph and seething with rage. He was already trying to kiss your lips. Trying to chase the bright, red cut you sported from a nasty brawl with the enemy. It was quite the sight to see from the cameras, you fiercely cutting through the spark chambers of mechs thirty times your size.

He would've been down there with you if Rodimus hadn't purposefully tricked him out of it — it doesn't matter now, he thought, he got the footage seared into the back of his processor, and you're back in his embrace. Skin still prickling with adrenaline from the fight. 

" I mean it, squishy. From the bottom of my spark !" " Don't tempt me into carving it out to see for myself, you flirt." Someone in the back of the room groaned. Maybe it was Rewind. Then it must have been Chromedome too. "You sure do know how to sweep a Decepticon off his feet."

Smiling at his wicked sense of humor, you gestured to your weapon with a wink, " What can I say? I know how to bring a guy down to his knees. It always works when you remove their legs."

The two of you shared a laugh, exiting the room to leave a trail of curious and confused optics in your wake. From his peripheral, Whirl could see Megatron pinch the bridge of his nose ( and that made his spark swell with pride.) Ratchet already exhaling through his intake as Swerve yells out dramatically — " Great! There are two of them now. That means another person I have to ban from the bar when it's happy hour."

And when he's done helping you scrub the dried liquid off your body, touches turning desperate, rough — but when is anything ever gentle between the two of you? It was always a push, a pull, a shove: a kiss felt like a punch, and love burned like a wound.

Not everyone will understand, Whirl thought. He knows they call him crazy. Calls this crazy.

But he lets you flip him on his back: your legs straddled across his waist while his talons dig against the flesh of your hips. Your teeth sank against his neck cables, his grip bruising your skin purple. Fighting was always the closest thing Whirl understood to affection.

Not everyone will understand. So it's a good fragging thing he never cared about anyone else. And that he was never sane to begin with. 

[thestitchesart-chive]

They’re Not Cybertronian

It had been a joint effort between Arcee and Ultra Magnus to catch that Sweep, yet still a leviathan task- one where all the stars had aligned closely enough to finally subdue one of Scourge’s elusive huntsmen. For the rather clumsy, bumbling things they were, they were still far stronger (and far faster…) than they looked, and their numbers gave them a scary amount of strength. This one simply hadn’t been fast enough to rejoin the group.

It had also been very damaged in the fight, Magnus noted- it was a miracle it was even able to walk, with one of its wings barely hanging on by a few wires and deep lacerations and laser burns crosshatched across cracked blue plating. First Aid had nearly flipped his lid when they dragged it back to HQ- no Cybertronian should have to sit in a cell with such life-threatening wounds. Especially when there was almost no energon seeping out of any of those broken panels- a telltale sign of energon depletion. Despite Rodimus’s insistence, he and Perceptor had managed to make their claim on the Sweep, citing both Cybertronian war convention and repair for the sake of research as their excuse- maybe they could open this specimen up and figure out the secret to the mysterious strength of the Sweeps and those that they answered to.

But repair, as they found out, would not be any easy task- even in this state, the Sweep struggled and fought back against intubation- and only fell into stasis when Perceptor managed to wrangle a cord into it containing the strongest of cybersedatives.

That should’ve been a red flag- but Perceptor had chalked it up to the energon depletion, and curiosity had gotten the better of them already. First Aid took the lead in hooking the Sweep up to an energon drip, as Perceptor started removing pieces of the damaged abdominal plating, placing some of the more intact pieces on trays for further study.

They had no intent on fixing the Sweep’s external armor plates- no point in repairing the enemy more than what was vital- but there was massive internal damage that would need to be fixed if they wanted to see the Sweep survive the night. Once most of the armor plates were stripped, First Aid finally had his first look at the interior wiring of the subject, and his vents stopped in their tracks as he took it all in.

First Aid had been a medic for a long, long time now- he’d repaired hundreds of frames, opened up dozens of his compatriots- and even operated on Decepticon bodies, too. One could say he knew the anatomy of a Cybertronian like the back of his hand. But as he peered into the leaking, exposed innards of the Sweep on the table, for the first time since his Academy years, he couldn’t comprehend any of it.

The discrepancies in anatomy could not be attributed to the manufacturing differences of a Decepticon frame. In fact, the body did not look Cybertronian in origin at all- the thing on the table had no fuel tank, but four energon pumps- its spark casing was two times too big and had too many cables, and in three separate places, he found pistons that seemed to pump into nothing at all. Half of the vital Cybertronian circuits and parts were missing outright, or in wildly erroneous places- and that was all of the parts he understood.

In place of necessary components lay components completely alien to him, all whirring and ticking angrily as he tried to wrap his processor around what he was seeing. He found a leak in one of what might’ve been a main fuel line- instead of leaking pink, it dribbled an iridescent blackish-purple fluid. He tried to collect a sample of it, and the pipette disintegrated in contact with the substance.

Whatever was lying on his table was not Cybertronian, no matter what the frame it wore. It was more of a mockery of the mechanical body- like a freshly-minted medical student had taken access to loose parts and tried to play Primus with the Cybertronian frame. And the worst part was, they had succeeded. Despite all of the inconsistencies and incorrectly-placed parts, the resulting monstrosity was stronger, it was faster, and it was laying on the table before them.

And this was one of the weak ones. One of the hunters that served under Scourge, and under Cyclonus and Galvatron…

“Perceptor?” First Aid asked, venting slowly as he discarded the useless pipette. “What do we know about the manufacturer of the Sweeps?”

Perceptor didn’t answer First Aid at first. He was too focused on another part of the machinery- a deep laceration that had cleaved through the Sweep’s abdominal wiring. When he had looked at it pre-operation, it had been almost as long as his hand- now, as he’d measured it, it had shrunk by almost a fingertip.

He transformed into his alt mode, landing in microscope form on the operating table just next to the damaged area, and zoomed in- just to meet the same horror First Aid had discovered.

At the microscopic level at the very edge of the wound was a thin, blackish-purple lining- slowly creeping forward, filling empty space- and leaving healthy living-metal in its wake. The Sweep was regenerating its wounds just like an organic tumor, creeping forth and spreading its darkness, just like…

First Aid’s query rang in his audials. He transformed back, the energon churning in his fuel tank.

“They were first seen with the world-eater, Unicron.” He said gravely. “Along with the new warlord- Galvatron.”

There was a moment of dreadful silence as the two basked in their revelation, in the presence of a threat that was not even their own kind.

“Oh, Primus. Oh, Primus save us.” First Aid was the first to break the silence, burying his helm in his hands. “What do we tell Rodimus?”

[minorisato]

please show some mercy in your distant tone

transformers / cymags / wc: 745 / warnings: NSFT / notes: written for kinktober day 15, "mind break." G1S3. i promise it's not what it sounds like. / consider commissioning me!

They should not be meeting up like this. Magnus knows that. Still, he is tempted.

Cyclonus moves himself up and down on Magnus' spike, riding him in earnest, and though his hips shake and buck, plating flaring out, he remains relatively silent. His exvents are laboured, dentae grit, though any sort of exclamation is few and far between. It drives Magnus insane- Magnus, who is grunting, gasping, letting out pants and moans. Magnus, who is starting to think that Unicron designed the Sweeps general to tempt him specifically.

And what a crime it is! What a crime, that such a mech was placed under the care of Galvatron! What a crime that they must meet in secret- that Cyclonus is not an Autobot. Once, Magnus had extended that offer, that Cyclonus could change if he wanted. That the Autobots would accept him. Cyclonus had shut it down quick, sharp, as though he didn't even want to consider the possibility. Magnus, not wanting to push him, didn't ask again.

Now, though, Magnus is considering dredging the topic back up. He carefully rests his servos on Cyclonus' sides, almost trying to keep the Decepticon steady, though really Cyclonus is perfectly in control of his actions, and both of them know that. Magnus just wants to touch him as much as he's able. "Cyclonus," the blue mech lets out, in a sigh, and he feels the jet cycle around him.

Cyclonus, through grit dentae, grunts out, "What- what is it?"

"Cyclonus, you're-" Magnus exvents. "You're doing so good. You feel so nice."

The purple mech huffs. "Do you enjoy doing no work?"

Magnus stiffens momentarily, before recalling that Cyclonus is often just cold in this way. "Would you rather I do something?" He asks, servos still gripping the mech's middle.

Nervously, Cyclonus glances away, nodding. His faceplates are tinted the lightest pink, as though he's actually a little embarrassed. It's a cute look on him. Magnus thinks to himself how nice it is to see these vulnerabilities of Cyclonus'- how nice it would be to see more. It's with that thought that he hoists Cyclonus up by his waist just enough so that he can slam his spike deep inside the jet, again and again.

Wonderfully for Magnus, Cyclonus reaches up to cover his intake with his servos as his firm grip on his vocalizer slips, soft moans echoing out with each of Magnus' thrusts. Cyclonus' calipers cycle around the Autobot, and what a wonderful feeling it is, as though Cyclonus' frame is begging him for more, faster, harder.

Magnus, of course, cannot help but oblige him. He, with his firm grip on the purple mech, maneuvers the two so that Cyclonus is laying on his spinal strut, and Magnus is leaning over him, moving his servos from the mech's middle to his thighs, positioning each of Cyclonus' legs over each of his own shoulders. When Magnus begins to thrust again, he finds that he's deeper- and Cyclonus can feel it too, letting out a sudden yell at the feeling.

As Magnus fucks into the Unicronian, he can't help but think that Cyclonus looks so beautiful like this. He scrambles against the ground as Magnus splits him open, and what a crime it is, what an honest crime it is-

"Cyclonus," Magnus begs, because he just can't help himself, "please come back with me. Please come back to the Autobots with me. I've already-" his hips stutter, and he gasps. "Cyclonus, I've already, already talked to Rodimus. You'll be welcome with us. Please come back with me."

Cyclonus invents sharply. "Magnus," he grits out, "Magnus, I- I can't-"

"You can," Magnus tells him, and he distantly realizes he's babbling a little bit, that the fact of his spike being inside the purple mech is probably making him a little delusional. Magnus thrusts again, harder, and Cyclonus lets out another yell. "There's nothing- nothing holding you back there. You can- you can come with me, we can-" Magnus groans. "We can, we can end the war and, and- we'll start a little life, I'll give you my, my sparkling-"

Cyclonus moans, his calipers clenching down around the blue mech's spike suddenly. "Magnus!"

"Please," Magnus begged, "Cyclonus, come back with me, please-"

"Okay!" Cyclonus shouts, between his moans and panting, reaching up to cover his faceplates. His vocals are strained beyond belief, and Magnus almost freezes hearing him. "Okay," Cyclonus repeats.

"Okay?" Magnus asks.

"Okay. I'll go back with you."

[searchingforatrail]

It was a missed opportunity to not have Ratchet ask Optimus to talk to Rodimus after how he handled Drift. For Optimus to tell Rodimus, that as a Prime, what he did was very wrong.

And to reassure Drift that the way he was treated wasn't okay, and as a Prime, Rodimus should have addressed it publicly instead of sweeping it under the rug.

Like a little evil, little vindictive Ratchet just getting the chance to watch Rodimus dragged for that. Because Drift certainly wouldn't speak up for himself.

i mean ratchet would totally pull 'my best friend's a prime' card.

[ao3feed-skystar]

Transformers Generation 1: Hope

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/ew5BQVl by mmcco52 When a escape pod with a 7 year old crashes onto Cybertron with a big responsibility resting on her shoulders, the Autobots must do whatever they can to protect her from a prophecy that will change everything, however, enemies will hear of this girl and will destroy or take her powers for evil, many harsh trials awaits the Autobots, including the girl who knows nothing of what it's like to be a real child, who was raised to be a sacrifice, and accept death for the greater good Words: 943, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Rodimus | Rodimus Prime, Ultra Magnus (Transformers), Ratchet (Transformers), Ironhide (Transformers), First Aid (Transformers), Jazz (Transformers), Kup (Transformers), Grimlock (Transformers), Spike Witwicky, Carly Witwicky, Daniel Witwicky, Wheelie (Transformers), Blaster (Transformers), Blurr (Transformers), Bumblebee (Transformers), Perceptor (Transformers), Wheeljack (Transformers), Starscream (Transformers), Jetfire | Skyfire (Transformers), Other Character Tags to Be Added, Galvatron (Transformers), Sweeps (Transformers), Cyclonus (Transformers), Sky Lynx (Transformers), Autobots (Transformers), Hound (Transformers), Mirage (Transformers), Arcee (Transformers), Springer (Transformers) Relationships: Jetfire | Skyfire/Starscream (Transformers), Ironhide/Ratchet (Transformers), Rodimus | Rodimus Prime & Ultra Magnus, Rodimus | Rodimus Prime/Ultra Magnus, Rodimus | Rodimus Prime & Original Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Everyone Is Gay, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Author Regrets Everything, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Child Abuse, Loss of Parent(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, Human Sacrifice, Fluff, Blood and Injury, Bruises, Scars, Violence read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/ew5BQVl

[soundcrusher]

A story about a Hawk and a Phoenix

Heh, revisiting @cuppajj's Sentient Sg!Lost Light Au, only to write a crosssover thingy including @dimorphodon-x's Sg!Starhawk and my Sg!Phoenix.

You two don't know how much fun this was X3

(This is the first time I did more than simply include Sg!Starhawk in some silly doodles. So, should anything be off, please let me know. I'll change it as soon as I can. ^^)

Either way, enjoy!

Trigger warning: A not important character dies

The first time Phoenix realized there were more than just Rodimus and Lightlost on the ship, was when he walked down the halls alone. He was just sweeping the floor and cleaning up some of the stains, when he could see something or someone moving. At least, he thought he saw something, because the second he turned around, there was nothing but the emptiness of the hall. But despite the vacancy of the hall, Phoenix could have sworn that there was someone watching him.

Someone he couldn’t see, but he was sure that there was someone else. Even as Lightlost reassured him that there was no-one else on the ship. But Phoenix, despite trusting Lightlost, never felt reassured. Not when he could hear strange sounds waking him up from his recharge. Sounds, only a prowling monster could make as it circles their prey. Waiting for a moment to strike. But Phoenix never saw the monster, not fully. The darkness of the bridge and his own fears kept him from venturing out from underneath his blankets. Only once did he do it, after being woken up from probably the first good sleep he ever had since his crew came back, only to try and kill him.

But even then, he was too tired to fully make out the strange monster leaning over Rodimus. And when he finally realized that there was someone else with them, it was already far too late. The monster was gone and Phoenix couldn’t sleep well for the next few days. Always clinging to either Rodimus or Lightlost. Telling them that someone else was on board, but only Rodimus believed him. Lightlost only smiled, as they patted his head. Telling him that his imagination is playing tricks on him.

Rodimus, on the other hand, told him that the monster was a friend. That he wouldn’t do any harm, because he was way too soft to do such a thing. However, Phoenix wasn’t all too sure about it, because his brother’s words were met with a small sound from within the vents. Something that sounded more like a grunt of disagreement, rather than a reassuring confirmation.

It, again, left Phoenix scared. And his fear only grew with each passing day and peaked on the day when he finally grew angry and was taken away from Rodimus.

With the way the monster usually moved, it should have been with Rodimus in the bridge. It seemed to be there every time Phoenix noticed it. But it wasn’t. At least it sounded like the monster was scurrying inside the vents of his new room. And being alone, without either Rodimus or Lightlost, made the youngling fear the monster even more. Until Phoenix’s ball disappeared. He was stupid enough to not put it in his subspace before recharging, and then it was gone.

Or, at least, Phoenix thought it was gone, until he heard the same scurrying the monster made when moving inside the vents, and his ball fell out of the open vent. Phoenix was quick to take his ball and store it safely in his subspace. Not taking it out for the rest of his stay, because he didn’t want to lose it again.

But the small gesture had something positive. Phoenix lost a little bit of his fear and so, after Lightlost allowed him to return back to the bridge, the youngling gathered up his best cleaning rug and Rodimus’ polish. Putting it on the captain’s chair with a nervous smile. Telling his brother that this was for the monster, before going to sleep. And when Phoenix looked towards the captain’s chair the next dday, both items were gone. With Rodimus smiling knowingly towards the vent.

And then, there was the day of their escape.

If Phoenix was being honest, escape was something he never dared to imagen. He always thought that, with the way things were after his small outburst, he would be forever trapped on board the Lost Light. Forced to either watch Rodimus slowly deteriorate until there was nothing left, or spend the rest of his life trapped within a ship where there was no chance of escape.

But then the monster came and took Rodimus away. And Phoenix followed him and his brother, never once looking back. Because he knew if he did, he would have stayed behind.

Although, a part of him still missed Lightlost. It was hard to wake up and not have them close, or being able to talk to them, or hearing ther reassuring words every time he woke up from a nightmare. But at he still had Rodimus! That was something Phoenix was thankful for, because without his brother, he would truly be alone in a place he doesn’t know.

However, it was weird to see him with a fixed frame. Primus, Phoenix could still remember his first reaction when seeing Rodimus in all his glory. It was startling, to say the least, especially after waking up and not only being able to feel his wings again, but also having woken up in a place he didn’t recognize. At least Rodimus was forgiving after he hit him, unlike the strange white flier looming over them. He wasn’t all that happy with Phoenix hitting Rodimus, and only got scarier the longer he stared at the youngspark.

And Phoenix was still embarrassed to admit that he started crying from the white fliers glare.

Which Rodimus seemed to find funny, until he realized that the younger one wouldn’t stop crying. It took Rodimus almost an hour to calm him down, and then another two of talking soothingly to the frightened youngspark, until he fully calmed down. Only for him to then start crying again, after being introduced to the tall flier, or better said, to the monster. Phoenix didn’t know why, but Starhawk scared him. Maybe not as much as Lightlost when they locked him up in a room, but still. Something about Starhawk was scary to Phoenix, and the young flier couldn’t even point out what it was! It didn’t even scare him, that he was the monster.

It wasn't his looks, nor his glares. Phoenix had to deal with many scary Autobots, back when his crew used him as live bait, and with a Decepticon crew that never truly liked him in the first place. So, no, if it only were for the glares and his looks, Phoenix wouldn’t be scared of Starhawk (okay, maybe a little bit). Which means, it was something else. Something the youngling couldn’t point at, because Rodimus hardly told him anything about his boyfriend and Phoenix was too scared to directly ask Starhawk.

He couldn't even stay in the same room as the taller flier, unless Rodimus was with him. This is also the reason why Phoenix sneaked a little bit away from the two, the second they made it to a new planet.

The kid knew that it was a bad idea, but he could see that Rodimus wanted some alone time with Starhawk. He deserved it, after having to take care of the nervous mess Phoenix has become ever since they left the Lost Light behind. So, the youngspark waited until his brother and the scary flier were busy, before quietly leaving their ship. Taking his first steps into the outside world on his own, before those steps turned into a full sprint.

It was amazing to run without anything stopping him from doing it. Lightlost never let him run like this after all. They always stopped him, claiming that he could hurt himself or worse, and Phoenix always listened. Just like the good kid Lightlost wanted him to be.

But now? He was free to run without anyone telling him to stop. And Phoenix ran. Jumping over and sliding underneath obstacles that were in his way. Only stopping when he made it to the outskirts of a small city. A city, Phoenix wanted to explore, but at the same time, what if Lightlost was right? What if those living outside the safe walls of the Lost Light were dangerous? What if they only waited for him to come closer, only to snatch him up and do terrible things to him? Like making him bake for them until he dies of overworking himself. Or worse!

But then again, their journey so far has been safe. Nothing bad had happened, so why should something bad happen now? And even if, Phoenix can fly again. If something should go wrong, he can simply run away and transform. Leaving whoever is after him behind, as he escapes into the sky.

Yes, everything was okay. There was nothing to fear! And with a confidence he hasn’t felt in a long time, Phoenix walked into the city. Exploring every nook and cranny he could, while avoiding the few Decepticons walking among the mostly neutral looking Cybertronians. Just because he still had his badge doesn’t mean that they wouldn’t treat him the same as his past crew.

However, Phoenix soon enough learned that it was a bad idea to explore the city. Someone, despite the young flier’s best efforts, noticed that he was alone. And that someone was the embodiment of everything Lightlost had warned him about.

They were scary, loud and dangerous. Pushing Phoenix into a quiet alley, as they demanded everything he had, and only grew nastier for each second the youngling tried to explain that he didn’t have anything. Pressing their knife harder against his throat, after they finally realized that the youngspark in front of them really didn’t even have one Shanix on him.

“But you got some nice parts.” They said with a tone that froze the energon in Phoenix’s veins. “You don’t know how much someone would pay me for them. Or, maybe, I should leave you whole?” Phoenix could only fearfully stare at his assailant, as they snickered to themself. Giving the youngling a rough shove afterwards, that made him stumble a little bit, before he was painfully forced to the ground. Face facing the asphalt beneath him, as he felt the stranger stomp down on his back. Keeping him in place, as they pondered on what to do.

But before anything worse could happen, Phoenix felt the weight on his back disappear the second his assailant let out a blood curdling scream. Although, when he tried to raise his head to see what was going on, his savior barked a harsh, “Don’t look!”. And Phoenix listened. Covering his optics with his hands, as he listened to the screams of a mech who tried to escape death, but failed. The sickening crunch of their plating and the snapping of cables was all Phoenix could concentrate on, as they begged his savior to let them go. Offering whatever they had at hand, but it didn’t save them.

His savior tore them apart like nothing. At least, Phoenix thought they were torn in two. He heard two heavy thuds after all, before his savior complained about getting his plating dirty. But when he removed his hands from his face and sat up to see what had become of his attacker, his savior was there to cover his optics. Muttering a softer, yet still harsh, “I told you brat, no looking”, before picking him up and carrying the shaking youngling out of the alley.

Only when they were far away from the city was the hand removed from Phoenix’s optics. And as the youngling stared up at his savior, he started to cry.

“Tch, don’t tell me you feel sad for that pathetic excuse of a Cybertronian.” Growled Starhawk, as he looked down at the crying youngling. “They had it coming, end of story.”

“I’m… I’m n-not…not crying because of… of them… or f-for them…”

“Then why are you crying, brat?”

“It’s… it’s ruined… because of me…” Was all the youngling could mutter, before wiping the tears from his optics and looking up at Starhawk with one of his infuriating sad and apologetic look the kid only got, when he thought he did something wrong.

“What? What did you ruin?” Asked the taller flier angrily. Although, when his optics followed to where Phoenix was looking, he couldn’t help but to let out a barking laugh. "Seriously? You’re sad because I ruined my finish fighting that scum? That’s why you’re crying?” He exclaimed loudly, and only felt slightly bad for making the youngling flinch, before getting annoyed as Phoenix pressed himself closer to his chest. Getting energon on himself, and tear stains on Starhawks already dirty plating.

But considering the near death, and or near dismemberment, Starhawk left the kid alone. Carrying him back to their ship, while trying to figure out a way to get Phoenix to calm down and clean off the energon. If he didn’t, Rodimus surely would blow a fuse. Or worse.

“Say, brat, do you know how to use a cleaning kit?” Starhawk asked as soon as they were back in ‘their’ ship. With Rodimus still out searching for Phoenix in the surrounding woods. And that’s what he’ll do a little bit longer, while Starhawk made sure to dispose of the evidence still clinging to their plating.

“I… yes?” Phoenix answered confused. “But I… I don’t see how that can help us…”

“Phoenix, we’re both covered in energon. Me more than you. Rodimus will blow a fuse when he sees us.”

“Oh… then we better clean it up?”

“That’s the only good idea you had the whole day.” Starhawk smirked as he sat Phoenix down. And then, they went to work by getting the few cleaning kits they had. With the taller flier going first, after Phoenix insisted with a softly mumbled ‘You need it more than me…’ And who was Starhawk to decline.

Although, despite not wanting to, he sadly had to admit that Phoenix, despite knowing terrible little about the needed maintenance for fliers, was surprisingly good at polishing. The kid even smiled up at him, after finishing the parts Starhawk graciously allowed him to work on. And after he was done, it was Phoenix’s turn. Which was mostly spent in silence, as Starhawk carefully took care of the younger flier’s wings, after Phoenix was done with cleaning himself. Grimacing only once as he found year old dirt in the seams where the youngling’s wings connected with his back. “To think that Lightlost didn’t notice this…”

“They probably had more important things to do.” Said Phoenix, before letting out a soft sigh. Head lolling to the side, as his frame relaxed from Starhawk’s demonstration.

“Still. They should have, at least, made you take better care of your frame. You only have this one, brat.”

“Mhm…”

It was silent again, as Starhawk continued his work. Watching how the brat would doze off for a few seconds. Sometimes, he would even start to fall asleep, before jolting awake and sitting upright again. Causing Starhawk to smirk as he finished up, placing the supplies back into the kit, as soon as they were done. “Heh, usually you would be running for the hills by now. Aren’t you scared of the big bad mech Lightlost warned you about?”

It took Phoenix as second to understand what Starhawk meant. Between what happened in the city and now, the youngling has grown a little bit sleepy. Okay, maybe more than a little bit but still not enough to make him fall asleep right now. “I… am scared of you…”

Starhawk scoffed, “Of course you are.” to which Phoenix only pouted. “You didn’t let me finish… I am scared of you… or better said, I was. Maybe I’m still a little bit scared. I mean, you’re the monster… But… you also haven’t done anything bad either.” Phoenix let out a soft yawn, as he carefully climbed into Starhawk’s lab. Being extra careful as to not ruin the now fixed finish and surprising the taller flier by cuddling against him. “You’re nice to me… nicer than most ever were… and Rodimus like you… And you saved me… So…”

“So? Phoenix? What do you mean with… oh…” Starhawk groaned quietly as he looked down, only to find the youngling fast asleep. “You’re lucky that you’re somewhat okay, brat.” Muttered the taller flier quietly, while softly stroking the youngspark’s head. Knowing full well that moving now would be a stupid idea.

And when Rodimus returned from searching for his missing brother, he came back to the sight of his favorite Sparkeater clutching his little brother protectively while both of them slept. At least Rodimus thought that both of them were sleeping, as he quickly snapped a picture for either memory sake or blackmail.

Either way, it was an endearing sight to see.

[tinydefector]

I like your human effect so much that I literally go to your blog every day and check if there is a new chapter, and could you add another chapter about Drift, thank you for your attention💓

Of secrets - Human effects

Warnings: talk of past events, hint to nudes.

Word count 2.7k

Before reading!: this piece follows very closely to Labratory Logs as they are part of the same universe and play out at the same time. For context behind this, you'll want to read chapter 5 of Labratory Logs.

Masterlist

Labratory Logs link

Prev Human effects chapter

Next

Ask and request are open

________

The Ambassador is rather worried as they walk down the corridors, they had been looking everywhere for Traxies after the young mech had taken off, they knew he was upset after the revelation he just had but they were still worried for him. Drift paused mid-stride as he saw the Human Liaison walking around

"Ambassador. You appear distressed. Has some trouble arisen?" Trouble often found its way aboard the Lost Light, but for the liaison to look this worried had him wondering what could have happened.

"Drift.. have you seen Traxies? Is he with Ratchet?" They ask worriedly. They really hoped the speedster hadn't taken off and disappeared on Thora 4, Drift shook his helm gently. "No he wasn't in Medical while I was there, has something happened?."

The ex-con is swift with sending a quick comm, he pinged Rodimus and Ratchet simultaneously. ::Traxies is missing. Ambassador is panicked, please keep an optic out for him:: Turning back to the Ambassador, he kneels down in offering for them to climb onto his servo. "I'm sure he will be alright, sometimes Mechs need to blow off steam."

Drift gently boosted the Ambassador up onto his shoulder, stabilising them with a servo as he continued striding purposefully through the halls, scanning corridor junctions with swift sweeps of his visor. "What caused Traxes to flee, if I may ask?." He spoke softly, Drift himself sadly didn't have a lot to do with Traxies, he adored the young mech but being an Ex-con he felt it was better to not get involved with the young mech.

The Ambassador sighs. "He.. he found out some information that he wasn't aware of, He was on a Comm with Optimus due to his time jump incident in the lab, because it really roughed him up and they got talking and Traxies learnt some information about his Past he wasn't aware off and just bolted" the Ambassador explains, they are worried about him that much Drift can see.

Drift nodded slowly, visor gleaming soothing sympathy. "I see. Ive let Rodimus and Ratchet know, they will keep an eye out for him, you look like you could use some food, and don't try and lie i can scan you, when was the last time you ate?"

The human lets out a nervous laugh. “Don't think I've had food since dinner last night, ended up staying with Traxies so Ratchet could Get recharge, and well now I've been looking everywhere for him” they just barely whisper.

“Let's get you some food and then we will see if anyone's seen Traxies, he could be hiding over with Megatron, the mech does have a soft spot For the little speedster and He also seems to know the best places to hide for when you need time alone” Drift explains as they begin heading towards the cafeteria.

Its quite between them for a while before the Liaison speaks again. "Drift what can you tell me about a Mech called Shockwave?" They inquire, even if they couldn't find traxies right now they could atheist try and get some information for the young mech.

At the question, a mild frisson of unease disturbed Drift's field. Memories arose of the hulking purple plating, that singular optic Mech who was that cold and calculating he had caused so much destruction during the war.

He vented softly trying to settle the memories. "Shockwave is... a mech not known for mercy or warmth. His methods in the name of progress, he harboured little regard for individual sparks." Carefully Drift continued. "During the war, he oversaw many brutal campaigns for the Decepticons. What horrors occurred beneath his watch, I dare not guess." His field pulsed bleak shadowy recollections, memories he'd long sought to distance himself from.

Halting, Drift knelt and faced the Ambassador fully, taking their hands in his own. "Why do you ask of such a mech?" Gently he probed. The Ambassador slowly melts into his side As they make their way into the nearly empty cafeteria “From what I could understand, Shockwave is Traxies Sire" they inform him. It's almost shocking news, not something the Decepticon turned Autobot had expected. Traxies the sweet little speedster who adored Rodimus was Shockwave's Sparkling. The fact the Shockwave had a sparkling was even more news to him. He had heard rumours but hadn't put any thought into them, he knew the mechs on ship were showing off pre war Photos of Shockwave and a Human but for Shockwave to also have a sparkling, it was shocking.

For long moments, Drift could only stare in stunned silence as the implications struck him. It defied comprehension. How had such a mech, who valued function over feeling to the greatest degree, come to spark new life? At last finding words, Drift vented shakily. "Primus have mercy...no wonder the poor bitlet has fled." Rage and sorrow twisted in his optics before he banked them sternly.

Drift has the ambassador placed on a table and he places food, drinks and energon on the table. He intended to stay with the Liaison For a little while, sharing a meal and finding out more information. They let out a small thank you as drift hands them a much smaller drink compared to his cube of Energon. Both of them quietly having their meal together.

Setting aside his energon, Drift turned his full focus upon them with a soft chime. "My friend, I can see turmoil continuing to weigh on your mind." He's gentle as he laid a servo over their leg, hoping it would bring some sort of reassurance over the situation.

"Drift, do you have access to pre war files from Cybertron?" They inquire there's something about Optimus' story that just doesn't make sense to them. He mentioned Shockwave and a Human had Traxies but that's not possible, humans didn't exist then. They take a sip of their drink and slowly eat their food as more thoughts flood their brain, so much about what Optimus said didn't line up or make a scene.

Drift on the other hand knew many of the bots would freak out if the humans found out about their secret forum, but at this rate Drift wanted to help the best he could. "I'll do some hunting and see if I can find any information for you, and I will sift through its , its not like I have much else but time on my plate." He chuckled slightly amused, it would give him something to do and also wouldn't have every mech on ship after him for giving them access to files in ‘those Forums’, but even talking to Brainstorm might give him some information.

"You'd do that?." They asked, eyes looking up into his optics and it nearly made his engine nearly stall for a moment. He could see why so many mechs were intrigued and interested in the Ambassador. “I'm more than willing to help however I can, But I have one request. Please don't tell anyone about this, Shockwave there's a lot of Mechs who would do a lot to get back at him, and I don't want to risk Traxies Safety, I'll let Ratchet know but please don't tell anyone about Shockwave.”

It makes the ambassador's eyes go wide in horror for a moment as they realise the severity of the situation. “I won't tell a soul” they promise. It makes Drift settle, it was the lease he could do to try and protect the Bitlet Ratchet adored so much. “I'll let you finish your rations, I'm going to head back and have a talk with Ratchet and see what information I can find about Shockwave for you”

That's how Drift found himself back on the holo sending messages and looking for information about Shockwave's past from before the war, back when he was a Senator.

Drift sighed as he scrolled endlessly through scavenged datapads and hocoblogs searching for any scrap of intel. He wasn't willing to go to Brainstorm yet because the scientist would ask too many questions, Swerve was too mouthy so here he was.

Most records from pre-war Iacon had been thoroughly scrubbed or destroyed. And trying to parse through the endless dreck filling every corner of the holonet these days was exhausting. And it was even harder trying to find the Particular forum that Brainstorm spoke of from the night of getting overcharged at Swerve's.

He found himself drifting back to the obscure rumours from back before he had become Deadlock, he knew Optimus and Ratchet were friends before the war but how did Optimus know Shockwave. “Ratchet, can I talk to you for a moment?” He calls out to the medic.

Ratchet looks up from the medical report he was reviewing and nods to Drift. "Of course, what can I help you with?" He sets the datapad aside and gives the swordsmech his full attention. Drift seems uncharacteristically hesitant as he steps over. His field is pulled in tight, aura flickering with hints of anxiety that instantly puts Ratchet on alert. He gestures to the seat beside his desk in an effort to help Drift feel more at ease.

"Is everything alright? Nothing amiss with your systems I hope?" Ratchet asks, concern seeping into his tone. Medical issues he can address directly, but he suspects this may be a more personal matter plaguing Drift. Nonetheless, he keeps his expression open and inviting.

Ratchet waits patiently for Drift to gather his thoughts. "Ratchet, I want to ask about Traxies, I've found out some information about him" Drift begins, it makes Ratchet vents deeply, old pain flitting across his optics. "I see. So you've uncovered Traxies origins."

He had known this day would come eventually, though he'd hoped to spare the young speedster the burden of that knowledge a little longer. "It's true, Shockwave is Traxies Sire," Ratchet says heavily.

"When Optimus first brought him to me I had no idea. The poor sparkling was damaged and traumatised after an attack on the Academy, Frag he was so young cried alot." Ratchet's gaze grows distant, remembering holding that tiny bot, so small and afraid. Watching Optimus weep and cry while he held such a small bitlet. Looking back to Drift, Ratchet gives a sad smile. "But it didn't matter to us. He needed protection, so we took him in. And over the vorns, he became as dear as any foundling could." Reaching over, Ratchet lays a servo on Drift's arm.

"Ratchet, Traxies Knows, Optimus told him.." Drift starts trying to find the right words. "The Ambassador was there for it, Traxies took off after. The liaison worried about him, after his Outlier abilities and now this, they are worry" Drift lets out a deep vent.

Ratchet curses softly under his breath. Of course Optimus, in all his wisdom, saw fit to divulge the truth to Traxies directly. And no doubt in his typical blunt, tactless manner.

"That glitched fool," Ratchet mutters, shaking his helm. "Optimus means well but he has all the emotional intelligence of a Petrobbit sometimes."

He looks back at Drift, expression etched with concern. "I should have been there, to help soften the blow." Drift squeezes Ratchet's arm reassuringly. "But what's done is done."

"The Ambassador is trying to find Photos, they think it would be nice for Traxies to at least have some sort of imagery of Shockwave, I'm trying to find Pre-war photos before he was 'That' back when he was the Senator and Head of The University of Science and discovery." They both knew what Drift was talking about.

Ratchet nods grimly as Drift explains the Ambassador's idea to find old images of Shockwave. He can't deny the logic behind the act, though it still sits uneasily with him.

"I understand the intention - trying to give him a connection to the mech Shockwave was before the war twisted him," Ratchet sighs. "But I worry seeing that past life will only hurt him more."

"Here. These are some of the forums that were going rather crazed when they found out about Human and Cybertronian compatibility, kept them in case I had any patients stupid enough to try and interface with a human. It has photos of Traxies Carrier too” he explains and it makes Drift stiffen in shock, Ratchet gives a sad smile. "I want what's best for the bitlet."

Drift gives Ratchet a smile before pressing his helm to the medics. “I believe thats what the ambassador wants too. Thank You Ratch” he hums softly before pulling away.

As Drift searches through the rather not safe for work, human/cybertronian forum it gets to the point he still can't find what he's looking for.

Hymns_Haven: Anybot save those files from the Shockwave/human conjunx phenomenon?

He stretched and cycled a ventilation, hoping for once luck might be on his side. His search had led to more dead ends than answers so far, but giving up wasn’t in his programming.

Drift hadn't expected a reply so soon, but within a groon another comment appeared

Con_Spiracy: Hey mech, think I actually have what you're looking for saved it when Commlink nearly had a crash due to it. Probably the same "Human Fragger" thread you dug up, right? I remember that mess, everybody was losing their minds over it!

At first we all thought it had to be a joke, I mean Shockwave? Really? But then some archive braniacs did some digging and actually found official Senate records to back it up. Would you believe the glitch was bonded to a human back in the cycle?!

Let me pull up that folder, I'll send you a link. Hope it's worth the wait ;)

Drift's spark pulsed rapidly in his chamber. An actual lead! And from the sound of it, not just rumours after all. He typed a quick reply:

Hymns_Haven: No slag, you've got to be kidding me. That's unreal, thanks for looking - couldn't be more grateful for pointing in the right direction. Anything you can send would be much appreciated!

Within a moment, a private link pinged in his messages. His digits shook slightly as he opened it, images and files spilling out before his optics. Drift dove in. It's nearly shocking how many mechs start coming out about the photos. But one message with a vid that caught Drift's attention.

It was Shockwave, an Emputra mech and the human man from the other standing together as they fiddled with the recorder. Laughter is heard from all three as they move around the lab laughing and poking fun at each other.

Titled 'Lab friends' just as soon as it appeared the sender had disconnected.

Drift's optics nearly blew a fuse at the image that appeared. There, in living colour, was Shockwave standing at casual ease between a grinning human and an Emputra mech. The timestamp on the file dates it back to before the war. “You two are fiends! stop ganging up on me” Shockwave's voice filters through the video Followed by more laughter.

He read the caption "Lab Friends" over and over in disbelief. It was real. Undeniable proof.

The Ambassador made their way back to the human quarters, slightly sluggish and worried about Traxies but the others had said they would do their best to find him. But the moment they are stopped by Millian, Nadia and Taylor who look rather excited thry know they are in for problems. "Hey boss we have some juicy intel for you" Nadia nearly sings.

At the excitable greeting, the Ambassador couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh? And what 'juicy intel' have you rascals uncovered this time?" They smiled fondly at their crew.

Millian spoke up with a gleam in their eye. "So it turns out Cybertronians have these kinda... underground forums. Where they talk about- well, us."

Taylor nodded, grinning. "Yup. Seems the big metal guys have had a thing for flesh, We found all sorts of sexy stories and art they've been sharing!"

Nadia laughed, giving the Ambassador a playful nudge. "Who knew we were such a kink for giant robots, huh? Think anyone onboard got a little soft spot?" The Ambassador shakes their head in amusement.

“Oh, oh don't forget, seems like quite a few have a thing for you Boss~” Nadia sings again. “we decided to you know give them a little content” she teases.

____________

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[cozzzynook]

I know that in G1 Optimus came back as the prime and Galvatron seemed to take him more seriously than Rodimus, but I think it would be so funny if it didn't go like that. Like, Galvatron continues his goal of conquering the universe (sidenote, but I think Galvatron is Megatron without a filter, plus some insanity caused by Unicron) and fights the autobots, where Optimus has an easier time matching him in skill, but there's just something missing in their fights.

Then one day Galvatron's facing Optimus again, feeling a little bored when he sees him. A bright streak of magenta and yellow, which he now remembers was his old enemies original colors, zipping across the battlefield. Optimus is basically shoved aside and distracted by the sweeps as Galvatron makes his way towards Hot Rod for old times sake.

Meanwhile Roddy's just trying to be a field medic and make sure his fellow autobots don't die, before he suddenly hears his friends sounding alarmed. He turns around, sees Galvatron of all mechs approaching and thinks 'oh FML' before booking it because he does not want to fight him in a smaller body.

This is really funny i can see him running looking so confused & terrified lol

[achievedsomething]

"You really don't remember?" -Retiredcommander

{ @retiredcommander }

“I was a little busy at the time, Maggie,” Rodimus complains, the halves of his spoiler twitching irritably even as he keeps trying to nudge further into her space, always insatiable for any sort of attention he can get. “There were a lot of explosions and and yelling, and the Sweeps were there, and— well, y���know, stuff happens, but I’ve got it handled! I’ve got it covered! No worries. We can just, uh, go back and find another doohicky-thingy. The, the whatever it was. The piece that goes zoop. Yeah.”

[caiusmajor]

Trick or treat! (Early but I wanna play)

Here's an old TF G1 S3 WIP. ETA: No fertile or viable eggs are harmed in this wip.

"Does he eat your eggs?" Cyclonus asked, as if it were a normal question.

And maybe it was. Ultra Magnus didn't make a habit of talking to Decepticons. Not like this, anyway, just sitting together and talking while they waited for Cyclonus' self-repair to work enough for them to get off this asteroid.

And it wasn't weird exactly that Cyclonus was thinking of food, not the way he'd bolted down Magnus' emergency energon stores and was still licking at his own lips and claws in the hopes that some more remained there.

Decepticons were hungry. That was normal, even if nothing else about Cyclonus was normal for a Decepticon.

Cyclonus was still looking at Ultra Magnus as though he expected an answer. Magnus played the question back in his processor. "He" would usually be Galvatron, but since Cyclonus was asking about him, he probably meant -- "Rodimus Prime?" Ultra Magnus asked. "Why?"

Magnus could only picture the times Rodimus -- well, Hot Rod, really -- had made earth animal eggs for Daniel. It had been a bit of a mess but enough of them had come out edible for the tiny boy.

"Of course," Cyclonus said. "Who else? You wouldn't…." Cyclonus gave Magnus a sidelong look, the look he got when he seemed to remember that a warrior Magnus might be, he was still an Autobot "-- distribute them to the troops?" Cyclonus sounded extremely doubtful about this idea. "…Give them to the humans?"

Ultra Magnus shivered. He didn't think Cyclonus was referring to eggs laid by earth creatures, or even by the non-sentient fauna of Cybertron or Chaar. "I don't lay eggs." Hadn't in a long time, anyway. That part of his frame had been deactivated and removed early in the Great War.

But then, Cyclonus hadn't lived through the war. As mature as he seemed, Cyclonus was younger than Daniel.

"Oh." Cyclonus looked Ultra Magnus over, searchingly. "Do Autobots just not? Or does your Lord not fertilize you enough?"

"No!" Magnus sputtered. "I -- Rodimus -- he's not a Lord, Cyclonus, stop calling him that." He didn't even know where to start with Cyclonus' other assumptions about his relationship with the Prime. Didn't want to start, since he's sure it would result in getting way more information than he needed about Cyclonus' relationship with Galvatron.

"Your Prime," Cyclonus said, in a tone that suggested he might have stern words with the Prime in question about not fertilizing Ultra Magnus enough, or whatever else it was that Cyclonus believed a proper leader should be doing. "Why don't you lay eggs? I do. Scourge does. Sweep eggs are pretty good, but Galvatron says he likes mine even better," Cyclonus sat up taller and preened a little, clearly proud of producing delicious eggs.

"I --" Magnus was once again at a loss. "I had that turned off, millions of years ago. I can show you the coding if you like, it's not difficult to turn it off temporarily, although you'd need a medic for the surgery to make it permanent."

Cyclonus stared at him, first in horror, than in pity. His optics focused on Magnus' crotch in a way that made Magnus decidedly uncomfortable. "No! I'm sure you had a good reason for allowing that to happen, but never." Cyclonus' thighs pressed together hard enough to send soundwaves even through the asteroid's negligible atmosphere.

"It doesn't interfere with functioning," Magnus said defensively, and felt ridiculous. He might as well tell Cyclonus his spike worked just fine, thank you!

Cyclonus gave him a pitying look and stretched out his wings carefully. "I should be able to get us to the nearest neutral planet now." He backed away from Magnus a few yards and transformed into spacejet mode -- not the large jet mode he used to carry Galvatron, the mode that was about the same as Cyclonus' root mode. "Get on, hold tight, and don't try to open the cockpit." Cyclonus commanded.

"Thank you for the lift," Magnus said as he settled himself lying on top of Cyclonus' body, holding on as firmly as he could.

"A fair exchange for the energon," Cyclonus replied, and then there was nothing but engines and the vastness of space.

*****

"Any intelligence?" Rodimus asked.

Ultra Magnus shook his head. "Nothing useful. Cyclonus was willing to carrying me off the asteroid even after he'd taken my energon, but that kind of honor never lasts long when he's with the others."

Rodimus sighed. "With Galvatron, you mean."

Magnus shrugged. "He's got to save face with the other Decepticons, but yes, Galvatron is always the higher priority where Cyclonus is concerned." He looked down and away, awkwardly.

"Anything else?" Rodimus spoke softly, in that 'asking as a friend, not a Prime' voice he'd been learning to use lately.

Magnus shrugged again, awkward. It wasn't as though Cyclonus would have told him something and expected him to conceal it from Rodimus. "He's been producing eggs regularly. Scourge, too, and maybe also the rest of the Sweeps.

"Eggs?" Rodimus' optics had gone bright and he was leaning closer to Ultra Magnus. "We haven't had any reports of Decepticon hatchlings…." Rodimus looked sad, now, and Ultra Magnus started to regret having brought it up. He knew how Rodimus was about children -- any sort of children.

"Uh, yeah. Galvatron's been eating the eggs, apparently. Well, Cyclonus', Cyclonus mentioned he'd eaten some of Scourges -- you know how hungry the Decepticons are." Magnus shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't equipped for this sort of conversation, neither of them were, but they were the ones who had lived.

Rodimus looked stricken, one hand on his own belly, right where his egg chamber would have been -- would be? Magnus wasn't sure if Hot Rod had had the surgery, and of course Rodimus Prime was another matter -- his optics a wetter shade of blue. "They're eating eggs?"

Magnus reached out an arm awkwardly, halfway between offering a hug and trying to pat the Prime on the shoulder. He really wasn't equipped for this. "Yes. They almost certainly don't have the energy to hatch them anyway, never mind the energon and materials necessary to raise them up to Decepticon warriors." Because that was what they would be, of course. Magnus couldn't forget that any more than Rodimus could avoid picturing inert eggs as cute babies. It was good the Decepticons lacked the resources to reproduce themselves. "I offered Cyclonus the suppresant code."

"Did he take it?" Rodimus stepped forward into Magnus' half-embrace. Magnus tried to pat Rodimus' back in a reassuring manner -- he was never quite sure whether to try to put his hand on the spoiler or under it, or maybe below it? He settled for petting carefully at the bottom of the center shaft.

"No, he refused." Magnus watched carefully for Rodimus' reaction, but it was hard to tell how he took this piece of information. The Prime still seemed distressed. He patted Rodimus' back some more. "I'm not sure if Cyclonus understands what an egg is, really, other than something tasty to give Galvatron."

Rodimus laughed in the bitter way he did these days. He wrapped his arms around Magnus briefly, patted him on the back in return, and then stepped back out of reach, relieving Magnus of the connundrum of where to put his hands. "Maybe not. I can't imagine Unicron -- or any of the 'Cons -- ever gave him the 'your reproductive system and you' talk. Probably only ever got manuals for his weapons."

Magnus made himself chuckle -- it wasn't funny that Cyclonus had been deprived that way, but he knew when Rodimus was trying to lighten the mood.

Suddenly Rodimus asked, "Was he egg-heavy when you saw him?" All the sardonic humor was gone from his voice, the sad yearning back in force. Rodimus' hand had slid back to his belly, and his optics had slid down to look at Magnus' waist.

Magnus shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know, Rodimus. I'm not a medic, and I don't have a lot of experience with egg-heavy mechs."

"Of course, yeah. Just wondering." Rodimus' hand moved away from his belly and his optics moved back up to focus on Magnus' face. "Some of the Paradronians have hatchlings," he said, wistful. "But the parents don't like me being near them. Something about having blown up their planet." He laughed bitterly again.

"You saved them from the Decepticons, Rodimus!" Magnus said, earnestly. In this, at least, he felt he was on firmer ground. "You did what you had to do, they'll realize that and warm up to you soon I'm sure."

Rodimus smiled, sincere but still sad. "Thanks, Magnus. I wish I had your confidence in me." He backed away a bit more until he was leaning on his cluttered desk. "Anything else to report?"

"Not about Cyclonus, but I've got a few things to share about Karkas III."

When the Autobots had cleaned up after Unicron and found themselves in near-undisputed possession of Cybertron, Rodimus Prime had gone to First Aid for a full medical scan.

"I want you to look at my reproductive system," Rodimus said, once they were in a private room together. "Unicron only KNOWS what the Matrix may have done to it."

"Of course," First Aid plugged into his medical port and got to work.

Rodimus watched anxiously.

Rodimus couldn't stop thinking about Cyclonus' eggs. He'd lie alone in his berth at night, hand on his empty belly, thinking about all those eggs. Eggs growing inside Cyclonus, nourished and fertilized by Galvatron. Eggs that would never get to hatch, or grow up.