#THEN what about visor mechs??

[nerdcrawfish]

HEY UH.

You know how when you close your eyes you see black?? Um, TFs have glowing eyes--so would they actually see the lit up backs of their lids?

Or do the eye lights shut off when they close their optics lids like a refrigerator??

does it... does it click??

[energ00n]

APPRENTICE AU MASTERPOST

If you're interested in the AU, let this be your guide. I suck at writing but I'll do my very best. Just a warning this is LONG and I'll probably update it as I go.

Read the AU from the beginning >> ✧

I. What is Apprentice AU?

Setting

Apprentice AU takes place in a timeline where all the original Thirteen Primes are ALIVE. They're the rightful rulers of Cybertron and each takes charge of an aspect in their society (religion, military, economy, etc...) keeping everything running.

To be efficient with this, they take bots themselves deem exceptional under their wings and train those into worthy leaders for Cybertron. And potentially, a new Prime.

Fun fact: Only one bot has achieved Primacy through apprenticeship and it's Sentinel Prime.

2. Story

The AU mostly revolve around Orion Pax and D-16, specifically their growing relationship while being Apprentices of Prima Prime and Megatronous Prime, respectively. Orion is one curious cogless mech who loves to run around wanting to find answers to cybertron’s energon problem while D-16 only wants to keep up the hard work and potentially become commander of the High Guard one day

Some art and comic I've made of them:

First meeting - First greeting

Chatter - Pastime - Watchful eyes

Orion's upgrade (< context)

Lord High Protector

Fanwork

Fandub

Fanfic

An Apprentice’s (Unofficial) Guide to House Garments

To see only art, use the tag #apprentice_au

Ask tag for filter is #ask_ene

II. What entails being an Apprentice?

Role

A bot can only have 1 Prime as their mentor, thus wholeheartedly devote to that Prime's purpose. During the apprenticeship, the bot will learn all their Prime offers and graduate once they are ready to contribute to Cybertron.

Example:

Prima is in charge of the Religious aspect -> Orion learns of ritual and duties that help with the church

Megatronous is in charge of Cybertron's military -> D-16 is trained to be a warrior/soldier

2. Garment

Once becoming a Prime's apprentice, you are obligated to adorn their House's garment. Mostly consist of one primary colour of the Prime and an accent colour + accessories.

^^^ All designs shown thus far ^^^

*Regarding Nexus: Nexus' garment consist on a golden visor with a star on the right eye. The Visor can come in any frame!! Not just the one showed above

All the garments are considered extreme honour, a blessing that reminds the apprentices of their devotion to their Prime mentors

There's a little made up rule between the Apprentices that only your special somebot can touch your garment, consider how important it is. Like a forbidden peck on the lips if you will.

╔══ •- Popular Questions -• ══╗

"Where is Bee in the AU? Whose apprentice is he?"

He WILL APPREAR. Eventually.

I have answered about him in the past quite a few times too. The AU is still in its very early stage I want to have fun with DPax first before having to learn how to draw other characters, it's tedious work whenever I need to draw a new mech.

2. "Why are Orion and D-16 cogless?"

For some time now bots do not come online with transformation cogs due to the planet no longer being as potent. If not harvested as sparks, the bots will develop a frame and sprout from the ground only as cogless.

In this universe, all cogless will need to obtain a cold cog and have it be activated by a cogged bot. This activation can also be called “Imprinting”, the cogless will receive various unpredictable side effects if they use the T-cog, these effects can range from mental to physical (ex. Feeling passing sadness of the activator, frame looking similar to the activator, etc….). The Activator can even write a singular command code into the cog, effectively bound any bot that uses it so it’s highly recommended that the cogless bots only get a cogged bot they trust to imprint on their cogs.

For cogless apprentices, it is tradition that their Primes will be the ones imprinting on their cogs once they’re deemed ready.

3. "How are the Apprentices chosen?"

Vibes

4. "Are the High Guard still there?"

Yes. They're intact and is mainly under Megatronous Prime's command. Starscream, Shockwave and Soundwave are D-16's personal trainers since Megatronous has expressed his hope that D will lead the High Guard someday.

Starscream isn't happy so he's a particular harsh trainer to D but he'll be a good guardian figure when D needs him to be. D has a nice friendship with Soundwave

5. "How is X in this AU?"

Most of the time, I will have no idea who you're talking about. I'm super new to Transformers. I would be very appreciative if you'd give me a pic, tell me a short description of the character and maybe suggestion on what trope they might play (anatagonist, mentor, etc...). Information is always welcome.

Please don't ask me about other Primes aside from Prima, Megatronous, Sentinel and Zeta only when it's Sentinel related. Most of it I consider as spoilers. Once again tho, info and suggestions about them would be nice.

Alpha Trion would be fine too but there's nothing much to say about him.

6. "I don't have a question just want to say I like your art <3" "Remember to take care of yourself/take rest!"

Much as I appreciate the notion, I get these wayyyy too often and it's clogging up the inbox. I'd prefer it if you guys keep it in the comment and only send them in as asks if it gets too long

Also very weirdly but being reminded to take care of myself is kinda irksome to me, I rather not keep hearing it.

7. "Can we draw fanart/write fanfic/make our own OCs for the AU?"

On my knees, please do and pleaseeeeeee link me if you do, I want to see all that my stupid AU inspired. Tho I do have a few boundaries:

Dpax/Megop and Prima/Megatronous are SOLID. Please don't ship them with anyone else. Strict one-sided from others is fine tho! (ex: Bee has a one-sided crush on Orion) Tho JazzOp is an exception

Bottom Orion and top D-16 only

Orion is Prima's only Apprentice

Thank you all for reading!

[classjezter]

does baby Optimus remember Dee...?

Is he wondering why Dee isn't around anywhere?

Short answer: yes. Long answer: it’s complicated.

I decided to write a small scene to explain it better since it’s kind if hard to portray what’s going on in his head in a comic. You can read below the cut 🔽

Elita, Ironhide, Prowl and Jazz were currently gathered in the command center, cataloguing recent Decepticon activity. A large screen displayed intelligence reports: battle footage, old archives, images of key targets. It was nothing they hadn’t seen or done before.

But to Optimus in his now sparkling state, it was something new and exciting.

He had been perched on Prowl’s lap, quietly observing the Autobots work. Prowl had taken to letting Optimus sit with him, since the sparkling seemed less likely to be up to getting into trouble next to his calm presence. At the moment his tiny optics were scanning the flashing images on the screen, wide with curiosity at seeing other cybertronians other than his caretakers.

Then, a picture of Megatron appeared. A still image of him spotted in one of their latest battles, nothing special or particular to the Autobots at this point. But to Optimus, it was special. With the excitement of a sparkling recognizing someone they love, he pointed at the screen and chirped out a name that none of them had expected to hear.

“D!”

Everyone froze. Elita could feel her spark skip a pulse. Jazz’s visor flickered and his wings dropped. Ironhide’s optics widened while his mouth dropped open. Even Prowl, who always seem composed, visibly tensed, his wings snapping to a sharp V shape behind him. And for a moment, nobody could speak.

Optimus wasn’t done though. He leaned forward, tiny servos reaching toward the image. His optics, bright and full of innocent recognition, stayed locked on Megatron’s face “D! D!” he repeated, a huge, delighted grin on his little face.

The Autobots were silent while processing this. D-16, Megatron’s old designation. The name Optimus, Orion, had once used for him. Before the war. Before all the hatred. Before the endless battles and the ruined cities. And now Optimus didn’t remember any of it. To him, the bot in the image was just “D”, his friend. And none of them knew what to do with that.

Prowl subtly shifted his hold, pulling Optimus closer to his chest. He didn’t know why, but something about the way the sparkling lit up at Megatron’s face made his spark ache. Ironhide was the first to recover though. His voice was gruff, but there was something uneasy in his tone “…That’s Megatron, kiddo”

Optimus blinked at him, then looked back at the screen. His happy chirps fading into quiet, confused little hums. His brows furrowing, he squirmed in Prowl’s hold, glancing back at the screen, then at the others. His tiny servos gripped Prowl’s frame a little tighter. Something felt… wrong.

His first instinct had been joy, excitement, recognition. But now that moment had passed, and a new strange feeling settled over him. Something about that bot wasn’t right. His tiny frame tensed and his little face scrunched up in a frown, letting out a soft whine. Prowl rubbed his back soothingly “Shh, Optimus. It’s alright”

Optimus wasn’t sure it was. He didn’t understand. His spark was telling him that this mech he was seeing was supposed to make him happy, he was happy. But then why did he also feel… sad?

Not only that, his friends were tense now, and he could tell. He could always tell. Why did looking at Megatron “D” make them upset? Why did he feel upset now?

Optimus whined again and buried his face into Prowl’s chestplate, seeking comfort. His caretakers always made things feel better. Maybe if he didn’t look, maybe if he just stayed close to them, this bad feeling would go away.

The others had no idea what was going on in that tiny processor. No way of knowing what thoughts or fragmented feelings were buried in there, waiting to resurface. They just saw how badly this was affecting the now tiny mech with now idea how to fix it.

Prowl, despite himself, felt his hold tighten slightly. He could feel the sparkling’s tiny vents hitching, his soft, uncertain beeps. Elita just watched silently, her expression unreadable, but her tense stance portrayed her emotions.

Jazz finally exhaled, the sound more like static than a proper sigh. He had been silent up until now, visor dimmed in an unreadable expression. But now, he shook his helm and muttered "Primus, that's rough" He didn’t know what else to say. What else could he say?

Ironhide, who had been standing stiffly with his arms crossed, let out a deep grumble. His optics softened, just a bit, at the way the little Prime was curled into Prowl’s chest, tiny frame still tense "Poor lil’ guy," Ironhide muttered, shaking his helm. "Ain't fair. No kid should hafta feel like this" None of them could argue with that.

Prowl carefully rubbed a servo along his back, optics dimming slightly. He could feel the subtle tremors running through Optimus' tiny frame. Uncertain as to how to help when he didn’t even really understand what was wrong. Finally, he settled on calmly whispering "It's alright, little one. You're safe" But Optimus still clung to him, emitting soft chirps and beeps filled with grief.

Elita took a stiff step back from the console, rubbing her temples as if trying to ward off a processor ache "Turn it off. Now" voice sharp with the effort of forcing the words out.

Jazz obliged, pressing a few keys, the screen powered down with a quiet bzzt. The absence of the image didn’t seem to make Optimus feel better. If anything, it only made his whimpers deepen, his tiny servos curling into Prowl's plating.

"Ain’t nothin’ we can do about this now," Ironhide said finally, voice low. "Just gotta be here for ‘im"

"Yeah," Jazz murmured. "It just doesn’t feel like enough"

Another long silence stretched between them.

They all knew he was right.

——

Okay! Hope that somewhat explains it. I’m not really a writer, sorry if it’s not great. And sorry not sorry for the angst :)

[enigmatist17]

Continuation/just ideas I have of the Mecha Pilot Jazz Au by @keferon

First part can be found here :)

A03 version -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/60978709

---

No one is really sure what to think when Jazz finally returns to the general populace, the crowded common room he steps into with Prowl at his side going silent at the mech's arrival.

No, not a mech, a frame piloted by an organic Wheeljack swore to the Pit and back was smaller than most of their servos.

"Soooo, what's up?" Jazz leaned against the closest table as Prowl got himself some energon, no longer keeping up the pretense he needed such liquid.

"That's what you have to say?" Starscream gawked from his seat, the seeker looking like he wanted to start dissecting Jazz's mecha as much as pry the pilot out. "Are all organics from your planet this...this flippant?"

"Not really?" Jazz shrugged, glad no one could see the grin on his face when Prowl rejoined him, placing himself between Jazz and everyone else in the room with a minute flick of his doorwings. "Hell, you sound like one of my commanders, he'd be having a fit right about now."

"Rightfully so, I should say." Mirage commented from behind Jazz, the pilot grinning to himself when he turned, only to see what was supposedly a blank wall. "Then again, you seem to be the type of bo - organic to cause mayhem on the regular."

"Human." Jazz could hear more than a few processors whir at the strange term, and after a moment, grabs a seat at the table next to him. "Organic sounds weird to me, so you can call me human or just my name, I'm not picky."

"Human...weird." Jazz isn't sure who spoke as his visor offlined, ensuring his mecha was supported before fully breaking the connection. The entire room went silent when Jazz's chassis made a soft click before opening, noises of alarm escaping vocalizers as they expected to see a spark, wondering what in Primus' name the org - human was thinking when something moved. What should have been a spark chamber was something else entirely, the central interior some sort of piloting seat that housed the human they'd all come to trust and fight alongside, who waved as he undid a harness. Prowl was the only thing stopping the Cybertronians around Jazz from moving any closer, his doorwings up in a sharp V when he carefully placed one of his servos just below Jazz, Mirage shimmering into view on the other side of Jazz's mecha when the human hopped onto the limb.

"Hey, fellas." Prowl kept his hold on Jazz as he stepped back from the temporarily deactivated suit, setting him on the table's surface as carefully as possible. "Aw, thanks Prowler!"

"You look strange for an organic." Thundercracker tilted his helm slightly, wanting a closer look but not stupid enough to test how close he could actually get.

"I guess?" Jazz reached up to unlatch his helmet, biting back a laugh when there were a few surprised vents at the reveal of his hair. "Back home, I'd say I'm about the best we humans can look."

"With an ego to match." Mirage cycled his optics with a smirk, eyeing his friend curiously while keeping himself between any bot stupid enough to try and sneak up on Prowl's blindside. "Your frame suits you."

"And don't I know it." Jazz winked, setting his helmet on the table by his feet. "Man, you guys are just...so much bigger in person. I mean I know you are, it's just weird ta see it with my own eyes, er optics."

"Trust me, it's weird for us too." Sideswipe commented from his spot among the crowd, amused more than anything when the inevitable questions started pouring in. To his credit, Jazz tries to answer some of them, but he steps back when Prowl draws himself to his full height and silences almost everyone when he crosses his arms, smiling to himself when the bot speaks.

"If you have any further questions, you can ask them another time, most of you are late for your assigned duty shifts, Jazz included."

"Ya wound me Prowler!" The human let out a whine at the supposed betrayal, but the grin never left his face as he turned to his mecha. "I guess I could get movin', don't want to keep Brawn too late."

"Indeed." Prowl offered his servo once more, aware of the many prying optics watching as Jazz hopped onto his palm, slipping his strange helm covering back on as he was safely delivered back to his larger frame. They watched Jazz buckle himself back into the harness within the spa - piloting chamber, the chassis closing up when something connected with the back of his helm covering, the visor on the frame they were all accustomed to lighting up with a slight hum.

"Fun time's over." Jazz waved his servo, everyone murmuring to each other while they slowly dispersed. "Man that was fun."

"You find most activities fun, dangerous or otherwise." Prowl shook his helm in exasperation as Jazz laughed, the human leaning over to gently bonk his helm against Prowl's.

"I'll see you later, gorgeous." With that Jazz sweeps out of the room, Prowl watching him go with a look that made Mirage do a double take.

"You definitely chose someone...interesting." The saboteur chuckled, saving the image of a soft smile on Prowl's face for some future use.

"So I have..."

---

Jazz had wondered what Prowl's face felt like from the moment the met, in awe at how the metal creased and smoothed out much like his own skin did. Would it be cold and stiff, or warm and pliable? Ah the thought plagued him from time to time, becoming worse when he fell for said mech.

So, when he comes across Prowl asleep (no recharge) at his desk, a data pad clutched in his clawed hands, Jazz grins. Locking the door to Prowl's office, more for the tactician's peace of mind than his own, Jazz quietly grabs the only other chair in the room and sets it down on the other side of Prowl's desk, resting one arm on top of the table. Prowl is still asleep when Jazz powers down the link with his mecha, shivering at the sensation of becoming so small before slowly unbuckling himself, setting his helmet aside before starting the (admittedly) long journey across the room. Thankfully his magnetic lock boots made his journey down the arm of his faithful mecha relatively safe, staring up at his boyfriend (boybot? Ugh no, no way in hell) with an amused smile.

"Always gonna be the smallest huh?"

Now, here comes the hard part, one that could end up getting him flung across the room or smashed into paste if he triggered the wrong response from his sleeping partner. Okay, deep breath, and with a quick crossing of his fingers, Jazz activated the magnetics in his gloves before placing them on Prowl's arm as a test run. One doorwing twitched at the initial contact, but Prowl remained still, and with a deep breath Jazz started climbing, climbing up his mech's arm nice and slow. It was a little tricky when he reached Prowl's shoulder, but with a little awkward shuffling and a twist of his upper body, Jazz was within reach of his partner's face.

Now here comes the Hard Part Two: Electric Boogaloo.

It took a few tries to unwrap the base of his glove with his teeth, heart racing when he was only attached to Prowl via his shoes and magnetized knee pads in order to free his hand, but soon he was ready to do the biggest thing he's wanted to since he first laid eyes on Prowl. His hand is shaking slightly, but that doesn't matter when it makes contact with Prowl's cheek, brain short circuiting at how...soft and warm the metal was to his touch. While it didn't exactly move with his touch, Jazz could feel the nanites that were on the outer surface of every Cybertronian react, twitching when he felt a buzzing under his finger tips. He becomes used to the buzz as he takes his time mapping out the dips and curves of Prowl's face, missing the cycling of optics before a loud chirp breaks the silence, Jazz yelping as he jerked back in surprise far enough to detach from Prowl's shoulder. He doesn't fall very far when he lands on a hand (servo dude) with a grunt, Prowl looking worried as Jazz propped himself up on one arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Yep! Next time I need ta clip a harness on you or somethin', don't want to fall again." Jazz waved with his uncovered hand, sitting cross-legged on Prowl's palm. "Saw you asleep, an' I couldn't resist."

"Resist what?" A quick look at his chronometer showed he'd not been asleep too long, optics flickering down to his partner when he felt something strange touch one of his digits.

"This might sound kinda weird, but I've wanted ta touch your face since we met." Jazz had uncovered his second hand and was touching the closest digit, a look he couldn't classify crossing Jazz's face when he gave it a squeeze. "Weird, these are warm, but not as warm as your face."

"Did you enjoy your...examination?" Something fluttered in his spark at the smile Jazz gave him, and once again gave thanks to Primus that he'd been given a chance.

"Mhm! I'd love to again some time, see those pretty lil' optics of yours." Jazz winked, watching doorwings give a full on flutter. "Glad we both agree."

"You shall be the end of me, Jazz." Embarrassment colors Prowl's words as he sits back in his chair, watching Jazz lay back on his palm, hands underneath his head as he sighs happily.

"Your hand is pretty comfy...not a sentence I ever expected to say to my boyfriend, but it is what it is."

"I suppose you shall have to make yourself comfortable then, I still have some reports to finish." Prowl clicked, grabbing the pad he'd been reading before he fell asleep.

"Gives me an excuse to nap then." Jazz moved to remove the outer layer that supported his pedes, his processor supplying the word shoe as Jazz resumed his position with a yawn. "Have fun Prowler."

"Have a pleasant recharge, Jazz."

Jazz doesn't need to know he had already completed his work before his "nap", merely settling in for a novel he'd wanted to get through as his partner slept in his grasp.

[keferon]

TexAid continues to rot my brain I hope you don't mind I had an idea for Shockwave. Warning for mentioned super unethical experimentation.

====

Vortex didn’t remember the first day his dad had brought him to work. He’d been too young, young enough to have stars in his eyes about giant robots and a desire to be tested by the cool machines his dad worked on, according to what he’d been told. The standard idiot child. 

Of course that had been where him being standard had ended. 

But that meant he had grown up at the facility, that he knew it better than almost anyone else and knew everyone in it. Which was why he was currently keeping his cockpit shut tight even as First Aid kept hammering the button to open it. 

Shockwave, the only pilot to ever make it to retirement was on the other side of his one way red glass visor staring like he could see through it. Maybe he could. Once upon a time he had been kind. Once upon a time he had actual eyes instead of the bionic yellow glow that shrunk and grew as he focused it. 

His mech had had a fatal accident, one that should have killed him too. But Shockwave hadn’t been lucky enough to die, instead he had been a test subject, to see if machine and human could get just a little closer to being one. 

Vortex had never liked any of his pilots enough to care but looking at Shockwave made him mentally promise First Aid that he would never let him live if he got heavily wounded in a fight. If Vortex was dying he’d take the other man with him as a mercy. Better that than this, having everything he was scooped out. 

One metal hand came up to tap on his glass, like he was knocking on the door of a house. “Vortex let me meet him, I want to see why this one is special.” 

First Aid stopped trying to open the visor and slunk back behind the pilot seat and if Vortex could relax he would have at having him less exposed. Vortex wondered if he should chew First Aid up a little? Make him less special? But it was too late. 

The only consolation was that his reputation as a pilot killer protected First Aid, made him too valuable to let him be dragged down into Shockwave’s lab for tests that weren’t a guaranteed success. 

Shockwave continued, “Wouldn’t you like to have a body again? The first mech to human full-translation. You're an ideal candidate for obvious reasons.” But of course that wasn’t what he really wanted. No Shockwave’s real project was human to mech translation, more than what had been done to him, on a grander scale than replacing most of a human with a machine. Shockwave was large, but he was still person sized. 

Vortex had been smart enough to keep his existence at rumors and Shockwave couldn’t prove he was in here. He was trying to use First Aid to lure him out. 

He felt First Aid’s hands tighten on the back of the seat, as if he was ready to fight being pulled away from it. But Vortex kept his cockpit closed and after a long time Shockwave sighed and turned away. “Well perhaps once you get bored of him, just leave him in usable pieces.” 

Vortex watched him jump off the gangway and heard the sound of metal hitting the ground below him before easy footsteps. For a moment he was jealous of what Shockwave had, but not at that price. Even after he was gone it took a long moment before Vortex let his cockpit open. It took longer for First Aid to leave it. 

OH DAMN…

YOU KNOW WHAT. As much as I love Senator Shockwave. The Idea of him being that creepy fucking scientist really fits here oh my god

Previous Next

[sam-out-of-energy]

The angst, THE ANGST its consuming me

I had to write something based off this ask because oH MY GODD

This already became too long so its a cliffhanger sorry teehee

______

They'd been ambushed.

Upon trying to retrieve materials for Ratchet the entire base had suddenly sounded the alarm for intruders.

Prowl had quickly scooped Jazz from a pile of metal scrap into his servo and then inside his cockpit. They'd ran, making it to the very end of the hangar before mechas had walled them off.

It was a stand-off- well- emphasis on was, as it had taken about two nano-seconds of Prowl and the others standing there against mechas before Vortex had already began tearing robots apart.

Now chaos reigned as the crew, including Prowl, Jazz, Vortex and First aid, were in the ringer, fighting off an overwhelming amount of mechas.

"It's like they knew we were coming!" First aid comm'd Jazz while the two sat inside cockpits that were trembling from the punches, the mech's visors coated in an unhealthy layer of energon and oil.

"These ain't normal mechas either." Jazz replied.

"Explain?" Prowl's voice was eerily casual considering the situation at hand, wrenching an arm off an opposing mecha before kicking them back.

"They're faster! Stronger too-" First aid noted, watching intensely from Vortex's visor, admittedly a little curious.

"No doubt they used Prowl's parts to rebuild them."

"To hell with 'em! Let's be done with this and go-"

Jazz was caught mid-sentence when Prowl shook.

The inside of the cockpit pulsed, like something had struck him, which confused Jazz because for a short while they'd kept a good distance from the mechas.

Then Prowl just....stood. Very still. Very still.

"Prowl? Prowler?" Jazz scooted forwards and grabbed the controls, pushing them but they didn't budge. Nothing did.

"Prowl?! You're not obeyin' my controls-" Jazz questioned.

"I'm- not- obeying- my own controls either-" Prowl choked out, straining his joints with a loud creak.

["Hello Jazz."]

Both the pilot and mecha stiffened.

Jazz's eyes widened. He recognized the voice that suddenly rang out inside Prowl.

"Shockwave?! Where are you! What've you done t' Prowl?!" Jazz jumped up from the pilot seat (not having been strapped in to begin with)

["I am nowhere you need to concern yourself with. I am simply testing out my new technology."]

Jazz looked around. He could hear a muffled First Aid calling out for Vortex in the distance.

["So, Prowl, was it?. Good to know. Now, let's get well acquainted."]

Prowl shook again, sending Jazz tumbling around as the mech bent over, clutching his helm.

Something flashed. Prowl felt electricity buzzing inside of him, phantom pains in his joints. Like his wing was once again broken, like his optics were busted in and losing vision of reality arround him. His body wasn't his and it wouldn't listen to him.

He tried to keep his expression cool at the face of this new threat but his coolness came crashing down when he looked up.

Quintessons. So. Many. Quintessons. Fire, blazing high like a giant barrier.

The realization struck him like his processor's loud ERROR alarm.

He was on Praxus.

No, he was- no-

Prowl felt like hurling.

He felt something inside him twist and turn, something wicked. Something unnatural, something that was definetly not meant to be inside him.

-

Jazz could do nothing but watch his mech tremble and shake, straining and squirming like something was crawling under his plating.

"J- azz-" Prowl gasped.

"Prowl! I'm here!" Jazz called out, grabbing the controls tigthly despite the fact that they were moving.

"H- elp-"

The plea came out in a stuttered, glitching mess but it was all Prowl needed to say before Jazz began pushing. Pushing, pulling. Whenever the stick moved one way he'd move it back.

"Shockwave, stop! Let him go!" He yelled. He didn't know what sick game the mad scientist was playing but he was not about to let him take Prowl from him.

["It is futile, pilot. Give up."]

Jazz grit his teeth and kept pushing.

Prowl's fight was made easier, so he managed to break free of the illusion for long enough to push with Jazz, taking a step back on his own from the (imaginary) fire surrounding him. (It was all his in his head, surely). Coolant rushed down Prowl's backplates, his motors overexerting themselves to keep control to himself.

["...I see how it must be. Very well, Jazz."]

Prowl was jerked away from his mindscape, straggling, back into the frey, loud echoes of crashing and crumbling of metal plating and concrete. The mechas weren't focusing on him, focusing all their efforts into trying to stop Vortex from tearing down the entire hangar.

Prowl had managed to take two steps forward to go assist before he'd felt more electricity surge through him. Oddly enough, it didn't stop him this time.

What did stop him was the pained scream that carried into Prowl's audials.

Jazz.

"Jazz? Jazz!" Prowl called, stopping and looking down at his chest.

Jazz clutched his head, crying out. Something coursed through him like a painful needle and thread, connecting him to Prowl even more than before, but not in a good way. In a way that hurt, every muscle in his body clenching. It was like he was connecting to a mecha for the first time again, but the feeling of it amplified twicefold.

Then, it was like he saw his own body slump. No, he was slumped. Jazz couldn't move, couldn't speak or scream anymore (In reality he was still screaming).

No, no no no no-

He saw white. A bright light in his eyes. A smell of burning flesh, of ethanol, medical grade liquids in multitudes.

Eyes. He saw faceless masks and he saw so many eyes, shining like the headlights of a car, blinding him into submission, into staying silent despite the aching.

Make it stop, make it stop-

-

"Stop!! Don't hurt him!"

Prowl demanded, the cockpit echoing with his voice, layered over Jazz's screams.

["I will do what is necessary."]

Prowl called for Jazz's name again, opening the cockpit hatch, desperate to reach in and grab the other, until he realized he was still in the middle of a Vortex vs. Vortex's victims skirmish and pulling Jazz out could only risk him accidentally dropping the other or Jazz being hit by something.

Prowl stepped back from the fight, wracking his processor. He had to do something, something to help!

It was easier with him, Jazz could just use the controls to help him fight against this weird virus, but Jazz? Shockwave was most likely inside Jazz's head due to his connection with Prowl, what could Prowl even do to help?! He couldn't forcefully remove or disconnect Jazz. The other was wriggling and twisting in pain, Prowl's servos were way too big to do anything with him without causing further injury.

An anti-virus, a firewall. Something to block Shockwave out. Prowl had to reboot and rewire his systems for that and all of that had to begin with getting Shockwave to release Jazz.

"Please, stop-" Prowl half-blurted out amidst his panicking. He couldn't tell what was happening to Jazz, but he could feel the other. He felt Jazz clutching the arm rest of the pilot's seat, thrashing and kicking on the cold metal of the cockpit floor. He heard Jazz scream and wail, inaudibly begging for release.

["I will stop when you relinquish control to me."]

"So you can use me?" Prowl snapped, his engine revving from the anger, his optic ridge bent down so hard it almost covered his optics.

["As you wish."]

Jazz went silent.

Prowl heard the thump of a body hitting the floor.

[revelboo]

When You’re Around

IDW Soundwave x Reader- getting caught singing

Warnings: 18+ storyline 🌶️ Part of Everything Is Alright

• There it is again. That soft, haunting sound that freezes Soundwave in his tracks. Every time over the last week that he draws near to the source, it cuts off. The heavy sound of his peds alerting his quarry to his presence every, single time. He prided himself on his composure. Of being the one point of calm reasoning in the storm of tempers and frustration that is the Decepticon base. But this is grating on him, fraying his control.

• Ugh. When you’d cautiously asked if there was anything you could do to be helpful and, more importantly, keep you busy and from your own chaotic thoughts, this wasn’t what you’d had in mind. Elbow deep in a crevice on what you had decided was an alien keyboard, you fished out another basketball sized wad of dirt and debris.

• It’s at least keeping you busy. Because you’re sure you should feel guilty about how comfortable you are among the Decepticons. There has to be something seriously wrong with you, but analyzing yourself can wait.

• The mindless task lets your mind wander, too. Until you’re absently humming as you dig your hands in the seam, before slipping into actually singing snippets of songs just so the big, empty room isn’t so deathly quiet and painfully lonely.

• Moving slowly, Soundwave eases into the open room and there’s the human. Making that sound and completely oblivious to him. It’s amazing that for being so tiny, you’re not more aware of your surroundings. He’s never moved so carefully before. Never had to, but you’ll stop as soon as you know he’s there. You always do.

• You’re not sure what alerts you that something is off. Everything is fine, then the fine hair at your nape is prickling and the primitive part of your mind rings an alarm bell. The song wavers to a halt, hands lifting out of the seam as you pray it’s not Skywarp. Be anyone but Skywarp, because that mech has it out for you. Torturing and messing with you is his favorite pastime and finding you alone? No, thank you.

• A frustrated burst of static laden growl escapes Soundwave as the song stops. That noise startles the human and they rear back, trying to turn around, and fall on their aft. Wide eyes stare up at him in very real fear, before it dulls with relief. It’s not him you’re afraid of and he makes a note to figure out who it is later.

• As soon as you realize it’s Soundwave, you can breathe again. This one doesn’t speak a lot, but you like the weird, tonal quality of his voice when he does, and he’s always so very careful with you. More so than any of the others, but he’s used to little things. Though, the way he’s just staring down at you is a bit unsettling.

• “Hi?” The human’s voice is hesitant as it tips its head up to meet his visor-hidden optics without shying away. Curious, but unafraid.

• And now it’s gone from unsettling to a little anxious thread of unease. He’s not speaking, not moving. Just staring down at you. With that visor and mask, he’s a lot harder to read than most of the other Decepticons. Are you in trouble? You almost flinch as he rumbles softly, the stereo thrum of his voice lifting and falling as he hums a few notes you recognize. He’s… singing?

• Face reddening suddenly, the human’s mouth falls open and shut. Its little heart speeds up, too. It wraps its arms around itself, looking everywhere but at him now. Frustrated, he mimics a few notes again. A little louder. More insistent. Apparently the human can go even redder, it’s chin dipping slightly.

• The first note is wobbly and weak, then the human is singing for him. Still won’t meet his optics, but that’s okay for now. Venting softly, he lets his optics drift closed to just listen. The words don’t matter, he just needs that soft sound to slide over him, chaining him sweetly.

[emelinstriker]

May you share your TFP Decepticon headcanons 👁️👁️

If you want specifics, then their domestic lives? (Or what one can achieve akin to a domestic life in time of war 💀)

I did NOT expect to see any ask regarding TFP- Or at least till I switch fandoms again- So like I can't really think of many X Reader headcanons right now. So I just wrote down like 3 for each. I'm also not quite sure how to condense domestic points, cuz I suck at general fluff when my hyperfixation is elsewhere- So sorry if these don't feel like they're really in the domestic direction fhgnfhg

Only doing some Decepticons though-

☆ ~ Headcanons ~ ☆

☆ Megatron

He do be a busy mech, so he doesn't have too much time on his servos. Therefore he cherishes it whenever he gets to have private moments with just his human and no interruptions.

Likes to carry you around on his shoulder pad- It just generally makes it safer for you, in his opinion, and more comforting for him.

Any that would merely look at you weirdly would face the wrath of Lord Megatron. You can tell him not to punish the other Cybertronian though. He does listen... sometimes.

☆ Starscream

Mans refusing to show affection towards you around other Decepticons, especially Megatron. But he's just melting around you when in private.

He prefers recharging with you lying on him. It's oddly soothing having his human on his chassis.

Tends to look for you as comfort whenever he had a bad day with Megatron.

☆ Soundwave

Despite the amount of work he does and how busy he is, he doesn't really fail at also paying attention to you. He's truly a multi-tasker.

Would let Laserbeak play with you though if his extra appendages and music can't keep you busy.

Very loving towards his human. He may not talk, but he uses emoticons on his visor to display how much he loves you.

☆ Shockwave

Just don't play with whatever materials he needs to conduct his experiments and you're good to go. Play with his antennae and ear fins while on his shoulder pad instead.

He gets easily distracted by his human. He knows it's illogical with the major size difference, and how he should just be able to ignore you. But he can't help it nor explain this phenomenon.

He also also can't explain why he has this urge to gently pat you with a digit.

☆ Knockout

While he does buff himself on his own, or has Breakdown help him, he does enjoy it when you're buffing him instead as well. Especially when he's in his alt mode.

Speaking of which, expect drive-in theater dates. Just don't get his interior dirty with snack crumbs.

Worries a lot about your health. If you're sick, he'll keep you close to him to make sure you're actually alright. But no kisses from him till you're no longer coughing and sneezing. He just buffed himself and doesn't need your sickly fluids on his frame.

☆ Predaking

Tends to pick you up whenever he wants attention. You were talking to Steve? Nah, now you gotta give your giant mecha dragon pets and kisses.

He also enjoys carrying you around on his frame whenever he can. At least he won't have to look where he goes this way.

While he has to go on missions from time to time, it's not a common thing due to his value, so a lot of his time is spent protectively watching over his human.

[mossyscavern]

Not spies, just a bit incompetent.

_________________________

“Now, are you spies? Or just incompetent! Lackeys!”

The winged bot asked, leaning forward with a harsh yell as red optics flared. “Whoa, we’re not spies.” Orion ushered, servos up. “But he is incompetent.” Elita adds.

“Scanning electrical impulses: he speaks, the truth.” The bot with the face guard and yellow visor states after scanning-. ‘Is that bee?! Why’s that mech holding bee?!’ Orion thought, worry coursing through him.

“That just means he believes himself, like any spy would.” He states, leaning against the other armrest of the throne. “Hmh! M! M! Mh!” Bee tries to say, kicking his peds excitedly, but thanks to the treat he’s eating, he can’t talk.

Orion’s glad that he’s alright.. but he still can’t help but worry about the young sparkling. “Uhm.. Why is he holding him..? Is that an energon treat?” Elita-1 asks, pointing and threatening.

And from the looks of it, D really doesn’t like how they’re holding bee, judging by the obvious death stare. “He wouldn’t stop talking.” The one eyed mech explains. “Even when he was unconscious?” She wondered, optic ridge raise-.

“WE DIDN’T KNOCK OUT A SPARKLING!!!” He shouts stomping his ped, sounding offended by her question.

“Enough. Two options for you, 1: we slowly dismantle each of you, one bolt and screw at a time! And really make sure you feel it for potential kidnapping.” He says, listing off one of the two options with a scowl.

“Or 2: in exchange for a quick death, you give us intel on the energon trains, access to the mines or anything else that could hurt your boss, Sentinel Prime.” He threatens, darkening his optics more towards the three.

D-16 darkens his optics, not entirely trusting any of them.. especially with the sparkling in their arms. “Who exactly are you?” Elita asks.

Bee ate the energon treat more quickly now, trying to finish it in 20 seconds. “Wait!! Not too quickly!” The one eyed mech warned, too little too late by the time bee finished the cube.

“The cybertronian! *hic* high *hic* guard!” Bee says, hiccuping as he spoke. “*sighs* I told him not to eat it quickly.” The mech sighs, shaking his hexagonal helm fondly, handing an energon drink to the sparkling.

“Prestigious *hic* defenders of *hic* Iacon. *hic* prest-*hic*-igious?” Bee asks, hiccuping each word, then drank the energon and thanked them.

“Right. I read all about you in the archives. You were the most legendary warriors in all of Cybertron.” Orion exclaims, pointedly before remembering a very important detail about them. ‘They’ll always protect our young.’ He thought.

“Look, look! There’s starscream! Shockwave! The bot carrying me is Soundwave!” he exclaims, pointing to each main three before raising his hand.

“Hey, are all of you named wave? There’s a lot of waves” bee asked, getting an answer from shockwave’s shaking head.

“Silence!” Starscream shouts. “The young spark is correct.” The seeker states, giving bee a smile when he celebrated. “We were once the High Guard,” he starts, leaning back on the throne.

“We witnessed Sentinel’s Betrayal, saw the Primes fall. Ever since then, we’ve been fighting from the shadows to sabotage Sentinel.”

“That’s great! We’re also-.” Orion was about to stand before a multitude of weapons are levelled to his face. “Woah, okay! We’re good, relax, we’re all friends here. I just wanted to say that we’re all allies here.”

“Hah! Yeah right, like we’d believe the bots that probably kidnap the sparkling.” Starscream stood up, screaming in rage at the last bit, making everybot quiet… all but a small voice broke the silence.

“… what?”

_________________________

I’m… making this one a 2 parter.

1: I like to make these things short and sweet so it’s not too overwhelming. 2: … I can’t fit in some of moments from the movie and pair it with the baby au.. like that fight scene between D-16 and starscream.

I got permission to write this from @yuukirita … and here’s their art and writing for the inspiration -> high guard and the baby please go check it out.

[smallestapplin]

Can I request some cute Soundwave stuff? 👉🏻👈🏻 Maybe human reader bringing him some of their favorite songs and trying to dance with him despite the huge height difference.

I am so down bad for this thank you.

-

-

You smile up at Soundwave, finding his curious head tilt adorable as you held up a device for him to look at. Earth technology is so primitive compared to Cybertrons, so it takes him a moment to realize it’s a music device? But it’s so small.

“Inquiry : what is this?”

You chuckle before gesturing for it back, “It’s my phone, silly! I was hoping, since things have been steady, I could show you some songs I like, maybe I could make a playlist for us.”

The large mech’s visor gleams down from where you stand on his desk, staring down at you knowing you can’t read his hidden expression, and for once Soundwave is grateful for that, you can’t see his optics go wide at your words or the small smile twitching on his dermas.

A playlist for just the two of you? He could make one, in fact he could make personalized songs for you, maybe-

“Soundwave? It’s alright if you don’t want to hear Earth music, I won’t make you.”

“No, please proceed, I want to hear what you like.” He sets his data pad down, his attention fully onto you and your tiny device. The music is too quiet to start, but Soundwave always comes in with a plan, using your phone’s Bluetooth to hook it up to his own systems.

You look happy, even swaying to the upbeat music and singing a long to your catchy love song. Humans are strange, you are strange, yet his spark pulses as he feels like you’re directing it at him.

Such strange words, but he’s quick to catch on and mentally replace the human words with Cybertronian terms, making it clear what it’s about.

“C’mon, give me your hand, or your finger. You need to loosen up.”

His visor brightens and the music skips a beat before swiftly getting back on track, are you asking him to dance? You’re so much smaller than him, so so tiny, and yet he finds himself mindlessly agreeing. Your tiny hands wrap around his index digit, pulling slightly to get him closer and to follow your beat.

He feels like he’s back on Cybertron before the war, care free, doing what he loves after work. Soundwave easily begins to follow, his hips swaying and pedes moving to the beat as if in a tango with you, moving and swinging you around his desk, dipping you gently.

Spark thrumming at the sound of your gleeful laughs and giggles, he can’t help joining you in your joy with soft laughter of his own. It feels silly dancing like this, yet you two move in sync, matching each others rhythm. There is a comfort in knowing that, as he records your smiling face, how you look up at him with such raw love and adoration. He’s moving before he can even process it, picking you up in his servo, catching you off guard, and holding you face level with him.

“Whoa! H-hey, a warning next time, yeah?” You laugh, sitting sweetly in the center of his servo.

Your eyes sparkling as his mouth guard retracts, letting you see his lips for once, even in the time you’ve been together he’s never liked taking it off, but now?

“May I kiss you?”

Your cheeks feel like they are burning, eyes widening at his request, but how you’ve always wanted to.

“I’d like that.”

There it is again, the music skipping a few beats, as if affected by his emotions. You stand up carefully, walking closer to him as he moves you closer to his face plate. It’s a bit awkward, but it’s so pure in his optics, how your much softer lips press against his derma, by this point the music is a jumbled up mess unable to play right from the flustered mess of a con before you.

You are all he wants, everything he damned.

Brain module racing for ideas on what songs to make you, what earth songs he could add to it, anything just he needs to make it for you.

“Thank you for the dance, Soundwave.”

He almost wanted to kiss you again the second you pulled away from him.

“Request : can we do this again?”

Your joy is infectious, almost as much as you getting to see his smile, though only briefly as his mask is quickly brought back up, hiding his lips from your view again.

Your heart racing knowing you must be special to him for such an act.

“I’d like that very much.”

[glitchgh0sty]

*shoves this at you* here you go! Working on a short story about jazz and prowl set in the decepticon prowl au. I hope I got the vibes right ❤️

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

Prowl did not leave the war room.

He had no reason to. Prowl had long since abandoned the concept of "outside."

Strategy did not require fresh air or open spaces—it required discipline. The outside world was irrelevant—an uncontrolled, unpredictable factor with no strategic value. The only things that mattered were data streams, enemy movements, and the ever-growing plans that turned battles in their favor. His duties required precision, vigilance, and absolute focus. He saw Soundwave and Shockwave once every few weeks for briefings, filled out his reports, then returned to work. It was efficient. It was necessary.

Everything outside of that was a waste of time.

He did not need distractions.

Which was why Meister was becoming a problem.

The new Decepticon was competent, which was the only reason Prowl tolerated his presence. But he was also disruptive—too confident, too relaxed, too quick with his glossa. He played the game well enough to earn Megatron’s trust, but Prowl wasn’t convinced. A mech who seemed to belong everywhere and nowhere at once couldn't be trusted his tact-net said. Plus, Prowl had his suspicions—Meister was too adaptable, too perceptive—but no evidence. Yet.

And now he was here, leaning against the side of Prowl’s terminal like he belonged there.

“You ever leave this fraggin’ room?” Meister asked, visor gleaming under the dim tactical lights.

Prowl didn’t bother looking up. “Irrelevant.”

Meister scoffed, arms folding across his chassis. “Tch. ‘Course you’d say that.”

Prowl’s optics flickered up at the tone—like amusement mixed with something sharper.

“You got somethin’ to say, Meister?”

Meister tilted his helm. “Just thinkin’ it’s funny. Megatron talks about strength, but you—” He gestured vaguely at Prowl’s station, littered with datapads and flickering displays. “—you hole yourself up in here like a half forgotten glitch."

Prowl’s optics narrowed. “I do not waste time on meaningless indulgences.”

Meister chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Right. ‘Cause tactics win wars, not the bots fightin’ ‘em.”

Prowl’s plating twitched. “Do you have a purpose for being here?”

“Yeah,” Meister pushed off the desk. “I do.” He took a step closer, voice dropping just slightly. “Come outside.”

Prowl’s vents cycled sharply. “No.”

“Just for a cycle,” Meister pressed. “Ain’t like the war’s gonna end in the time it takes for you to step outside and look at the fraggin’ sky.”

Prowl ex-vented slowly. “Unnecessary.”

“Y’keep sayin’ that, but y’ain’t got a real reason.” Meister tilted his helm, expression unreadable. “What, you scared or somethin’?”

Prowl’s optics flared. “Do not mistake my focus for fear.”

“Then prove it.”

The challenge lingered. Prowl held Meister’s gaze for a long, silent moment, processing the possible outcomes. There was no tactical advantage in agreeing.

But refusing would give Meister something to hold over him.

And that was unacceptable.

“…One cycle.”

Meister smirked. “That’s all I need.”

Ahaha.. AHHHHHH!!!?

Breathes, looks, breathes again. *Simply dies*. WHAT THE ACRUAL LIVI BFF AKNF VWVCIWJBG!??? THIS IS SO GOOD??? THE DIALOGUE!! THE DIALOGUE!!!! ECHO- CIRCUT! YOU ARE INSANE!! Can I spin you around and around?? Your brain! This is beautiful. I am without speech? I am without good and proper words?? YOU HAVE GOT DOWN THE CHARACTERS. SO GOOD!!! ITS ALMOST LIKE IM READINF POETRY AND ITS TEARING ME APART AND PUTTING ME BACK TOGATHER BOTH SIMULTANEOUSLY AND AT THE SAME TIME.. I literally read this and ended up grabbing my phone so hard while reading that my hand turned red. YOU HAVE A GIFT! OML! Breeeeathe. OhMIgosh, hold up, *dies again*, this is going in the archives of my Transformers notes document. The same document that is already so long my notes app told me I exceeded the set length for all possible notes app attachments, please for the likes of all things good,, I need to sit. and then I need to read this again. And then I need to grab some paper, a pencil, a highlighter, some annotations, a blanket, some more pencils. And then I need to read this again. And then I need to sit. And then I need to READ THIS AGAIN.

“He did not need distractions”,, mmhm, yep,, absolutely no distractions necessary here right now,, in the middle of Decepticon headquarters 💀😏✨

“What, you scared or somethin’?”

- PFT HA! This phrasing is so genius because in his mind what Prowl is doing is painting him as someone with mental fortitude, someone without needs like ‘living’, but because Jazz phrases this like “wait,, you really can’t do it big man?” Suddenly [because of Prowls’s view of Jazz] his definition of mental fortitude makes a temporary shift to deal with Jazz’s request because he doesn’t want to be seen as somebody who can’t function on a standard that was issued by a fellow “Decepticon”

“Prowl’s optics flared”

- Ooooog yeah,, that hit home <33✨

“That’s all I need”

- YESSSS, that is all you need! Bro, I love the phrasing on this too because, 1. It implies that Jazz knows Prowl well enough to recognize that he can be changed,, 2. It recognizes that there is still a part of Prowl that isn’t attached to the figurative work machine,, [ it’s dormant, but there <33] and Jazz knows that all he really needs is a little time to find it, and drag it out [politely.. but quickly]

Context ✨ Next!?

[yourplaywright]

did i manage to get sidetracked and write something COMPLETELY unrelated to all of my projects?

yes of course. you can blame this post plus @whalemleck and @yuukirita for injecting this into my bloodstream (i'm banning myself from scrolling Tumblr while writing)

Piece below the cut <3

The basics of gun safety are easy. Simple. Never look down the barrel, never point it at something you’re not planning on killing, keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.

Thus, it is reasonable to say that it’s a liability to have a loaded weapon with a hair-trigger. This is the argument Sentinel receives over and over whenever his bodyguard is mentioned.

(Though, to be fair, B was ‘the weapon’ or ‘the project’ for a long, long while. Airachnid was the one to suggest calling him a bodyguard— it’s softer than ‘weapon’, with the connotation of protection and defence rather than something meant for war.

It’s a good thing Sentinel is adept at lying, because B-127 is absolutely meant for war.)

He stands in his throne room, overlooking the city. It’s a quiet night, the sounds of flying muted through the thick glass.

He has a problem. A rather large one, at that. Someone has been getting into the Archives, bolder and bolder than before. Normally he’d leave it to his guards, but it kept happening. Incompetent morons. Even worse, they’d managed to breach the upper levels, meaning the highly classified information Airachnid had been so long suppressing was in danger of being leaked.

Despite how Sentinel’s more impulsive side languished in the boredom of Iacon now, he knew better than to go in guns blazing as a Prime. This is a delicate situation. It needs to be solved quietly, without a fuss. 

In the dead of night, he whistles a short tune.

If Sentinel wasn’t listening, if he hadn’t trained the mech behind him up, he wouldn’t have been able to sense the additional presence in the room with him. He must have dropped from wherever he hid, Sentinel’s advanced scanners unable to ping him.

“Sir?”

He turns to address his mech. The moon glints off yellow armour, reflecting Sentinel’s face back at him from B’s visor. “I have a pest problem that needs eliminating,” he responds, smooth as ever.

B’s helm tilts. “Of course.”

“Someone’s been breaking into the Archives. I need you to find them and dispose of them, quietly.” Sentinel stresses the last part— sending the people into a panic wouldn’t do. B hasn’t messed that up since his early days of training, though he still emphasises it.

“Of course,” B says, looking past him and out the window, surely to where the looming shadow of the Archives lies. “Shall I begin now?”

“The sooner, the better. This will be no problem for you, I presume?”

“Of course. Newbuild’s play.” B gives him a sharp nod before lowering himself to the ground and jumping back up onto what he assumes to be a ceiling beam. No matter how many times Sentinel watched, he still catches himself in mild awe at how easily B can do that.

(No he hasn’t tried to, shut up.)

Sentinel lets out a pleased hum. One less thing to worry about, then. The job’s as good as done.

[keferon]

Have another

Cause I’m on a roll apparently

———————

Jazz wouldn’t lie when he told Prowl that this was weird to him. His new body was both perfect and terrible. Not that Shockwave and Wheeljack weren’t good at what they do! Just that… it would take some getting used to. The visor, he was nearly 100% certain had been at Prowl’s request though. Something familiar to orient himself with. The rest of him was… Prowl had said it was a ghost of a Polyhexian frame. Some city on Prowl’s home planet.

Well, Polyhexian with doorwings. That had been one of Shockwave’s additions apparently. Jazz… didn’t know how to feel about them quite yet. Walking had been a challenge for a bit as he reacquainted himself with his sense of balance because of them. They were… very sensitive. It made him understand a lot of Prowl’s early interactions with him even more.

“What are you thinking about?”

And apparently, his mech partner (lover?) could read them like they spoke a whole other language.

Jazz lifted his visored gaze away from his hands (servos now, they were called servos). Prowl was watching him, those doorwings of his twitching where they were lifted high behind him. Eager. Cautious. Jazz studied Prowl further, tracing glowing white eyes (optics) over the other���s face. Now that he could properly see Prowl this up-close he could see all the tiny micro-expressions the other gave off. The way his blue eyes (optics you fucker) seemed to cycle and turn while he pondered in something, the way his mouth twitched in a light frown in concern and worry.

Jazz smiled softly. He may not have many positive thoughts on his new body at the moment, but he did have a few. This biggest one being his size. He reached up to cup Prowl’s face with his hands (~servoooos~). He watched as his counterpart melted into the touch, doorwings loosing their tension. Jazz could feel his own spread out a bit behind him, fanning like a halo.

“This body will take some getting used to, but—” Jazz cut himself off as he leaned forward a bit from his spot on Prowl’s desk, placing a gentle kiss on the corner of Prowl’s mouth. “I am more than up for the challenge.”

Prowl’s servos lifted up from where he had bracketed Jazz’s hips on the desk, cradling Jazz close. One servo on the junction of his neck and jaw, the other on his waist. Prowl tipped his head to correct the half kiss that Jazz had given him, pressing forward to full on devour the other. Jazz felt something inside of him purr in glee.

Audibly. Might he add.

It caused him to jump a bit, flinching in Prowl’s hold. The Cybertronian laughed against his mouth as he pulled back from the kiss.

“It’s an engine. It revved due to an emotional and physical response from you,” Prowl explained with a soft smile, tipping their foreheads together.

Jazz offered a small smile of embarrassment as he resettled his hands on Prowl’s chest. He did miss the other’s mech form, but he couldn’t deny that his old form from when they first met was prettier.

“You’ll have to teach me. I only know some cause you told me ‘bout them,” Jazz hummed lightly.

Prowl smirked at him, and the little ball of light in his chest (his spark, thank god he had one) flipped. Prowl pressed forward, tipping Jazz onto the desk so he was on his back, doorwings flared out. Jazz swallowed, feeling his engine rev again in response. Prowl’s smirk seemed to grow a bit, that field of emotions that Prowl described to him growing in joy and wistful possessiveness.

“I plan to. After all, you’re finally the perfect size for everything I dreamed of,” Prowl purred at him, a joyful smile creeping across his face at Jazz’s laugh.

“You’re just ‘appy I’m smaller than you by a bit. So you can drag me out of danger,” Jazz snickered as Prowl leaned down to rest their foreheads together again.

“96%. I’m happy you’re alive. That I have the chance to share eons with you. I’m happy I can court you properly. Humans have such finite lives. I was so afraid I had lost you forever,” Prowl whispered, smile going soft and sad as he cradled Jazz close.

Jazz couldn’t help but echo the bittersweet feeling. He will lose his connection with Earth because of this choice Prowl had made. Jazz wasn’t angry, far from it, but he was sad that there would be a part of him grieving his connection with his home. Jazz lifted his head to place a kiss to Prowl’s red chevron.

“I’m here. Don’t plan on going anywhere, Prowler. You’re all I need,” the human turned Cybertronian whispered, pressing out his EM field to give Prowl that reassurance.

Prowl’s own engine rumbled in peace as he leaned over his desk, just holding Jazz close from where he was sprawled across the furniture. It wasn’t perfect. There were things they’d need to discuss, and issues they would need to resolve, hopefully something a few visits to Ratchet and Wheeljack could help fix. It wasn’t perfect, but it was their’s.

And that was enough.

OH MY FUCKING GOD??? Oh THIS IS SO

OFNFJFOGNFJDBDKDMFFKFDFKFJFJDKKFKFJFJFKFMFMFNFNFKRNRNNFNFNFNFKF

Link to the Previous part

[crying-fantasies]

Filming/photographing

Masterlist

Featuring Cyberverse! Soundwave, smut/angst, CW: fingering, kissing with tongue, denied orgasm (from SW’s part), mentions of war.

Humans tend to be so insecure about themselves.

It's sickening, how their psyche has been twisted to never be sole enough, always pursuing the example of others, reaching levels of bad health and stupid dress codes to fit right in their own unnourished culture, fed by idiots and narcissism-centered idealism.

His tanks are heavy with worry when he catches you once again listening to the lies of your brethren, almost believing them when it is all you can hear.

He knows what the lies of others can do to the ones simply unfortunate enough to listen, and Soundwave would never let you be poisoned by them again as he captures your interest in him, dragging his servos over your soft, giving body as it yields and bends, skin moving like ripping waves as your weak electromagnetic field pulses along with his.

Maybe it's low, most likely degenerated, he is a mech on a mission when his knee makes contact with yours, legs falling apart to give him way as you follow his frame and lay on the mattress, the light on his visor, a furious invigorated red that burns with the passion only a lover could achieve.

A lover who with enough of the self-hatred stares you give yourself in a mirror.

He pauses and inquires, “Do you know how I see you?”, there is no broken contact between your eyes and his optics if only his visor is the only thing separating you both as his helm looms over you, “do you realize how I see you? Do you understand how I want you?”.

There is no answer, it pains him, to see you like this.

Is it so hard to let you know?

The answer, Soundwave realizes, isn't complicated at all.

“Would you want to see yourself through my optics?”, you squirm under him, fingers over his audial receptors making an effort to get him closer, but he wants a direct affirmation before he flashes the recorder inside his optics.

Soundwave, as a skilled negotiator, can make you see the positive outcomes of the deal, he begins to enlist them, numbering one after the other with his battle mask pressed over your sweet, little port and making you shudder against him, weakly trying to close your legs and stop him, he is sure that is the last thing you want, eliminating any doubts you may have about previous experience, but as a lover, he can hardly contain himself from creeping his digits over your body, making you sing and dance on his servos, you're already smiling nervously, arm over your eyes in an attempt to cover yourself before him, the smile only makes itself tighter as he can't contain himself anymore and the music spills from his frame, the deep bass of his growl and the music makes you vibrate, being so close to him, a sweet symphony fills your mouth, moans and whispers, his spark shines with affection and he can feel his modesty panel quickly being more of a hassle than a necessity, but alas, he can only do so much.

Primus condemns the fact he can not ruin you as desired.

Your affirmation, coming in between moans, finally reaches him, no second is wasted as his optics flicker again, a recording engraved in the deepest parts of his databanks, starting with your eagerness to discharge the fabrics and enticing him with bedroom eyes, fluid movements as he once again presses a digit where you want him, his whole servo manhandles you and pressed over pliable flesh, his digits leave a path that makes him repeat the action as many times he desires. “My spark, you will understand your magic once I'm done”

In between ragged breathing, the realization made you laugh and look at him, perplexed, “Did you just rephrase The Police?!”, Soundwave hums, pleased by your good taste, as always, as his forehelm presses against your head to make you lay relaxed over the mattress once again, digit dangerously playing with your port, coating himself in your desire before he is sure to make it as comfortable as possible.

You sing for him, a lustful symphony as he pumps into your body, every fraction and movement engraved in his memory, every fall and rise of your chest, every tremble streaming across your body from head to toe, the warmth is enough to suffocate as Soundwave presses his battle mask once again over your middle, optics capturing every detail and keeping it for his own, a pleased grin is all you can see as he tunes up more vibration in his voice, his sole digit still mimicking what he could do to you if the opportunity to get his servos over a mass displacement mod were real, but he can't, so all he has to do is make reach your limit with passion overwhelming your incipient electric field, make you fall apart, sing a designation taught to you after long nights of the shared company as he can only grit denta and snarl a deep growl by the pressure over his spike as his valve can only clench over nothing as your little hands come to hold him in place as tremors take over and he indulges you if only a little more, if only a little longer, as his battle mask finally recesses and gives you full access to kiss him all you desire as his designation blooms breathlessly from your lips and dies with his derma over your now frail body, a perfect angle to show your exhausted yet pleased face that makes his engines purr at the sight, trying to snuggle you with the side of his helm as he can hear the thundering of your little heart.

You fall apart, and Soundwave shows you later on, how beautifully you did so, he has just cleaned your body of any body fluid in excess and your breathing is only increasing once again as he projects the recording, the way you unravel in his hold, leaves you speechless, and your face reaches a new level of glow and warmth, it makes him feel proud, finally able to silence the lies in your head, showing you the most obvious and beautiful truth.

As you walked over to him, there was no need for words, he lowered himself to your level, gently tracing fingers over his audial receptor, prompting him to sing, your smile and the warmth in your body signaled another intimate moment.

You brought him close before whispering, "It's time to wake up, big guy."

Back on Cybertron, the planet nearly conquered by invaders, Soundwave is jolted back to reality, away from the recording of a better time, a happy memory, as he takes in the devastation, a moment passes before he fully comprehends the gravity of the situation, and overwhelmed by a mix of sorrow and anger he admonishes himself to pull it together before focusing on the task at hand as Hot Rod calls out to him.

.

Yeah, hand me the prompt of Kinktober and, somehow, I'll make it steamy and sad at the same time, make it longer than I wished for but still believe it's good.

Also, finally settled into working with different continuities.

@tf-kinktober2024

[revelboo]

I’ve been inspired to watch the old gen 1 cartoon and I can’t 😂 this show is an absolute trip and I love it

G1 was just so awesomely random, you have to love it 😊

Everything is Alright Pt 22

Starscream x Reader-curious

• Big, wide eyes stare up at him in silence. Starscream vents softly, working the softness of your hair with the end of the cloth and you just stare, your little heart pounding against him. He’s shocked you so badly, you aren’t resisting him anymore. Mass displacement isn’t ideal, but it makes dealing with your squirming much easier. Even if it is a risk. Being caught so small might very well mean his death. Too small, too vulnerable to defend himself. Is that how you feel around him? Helpless? He doesn’t like that thought.

• He’s little. Ish. Maybe eight feet tall now? The hand releases your chin and tugs at your blanket and that at least smashes through the shocked fog of incomprehension paralyzing you. And you slap his hand hard. He vents sharply and you both freeze. When he’s huge, he seems to find your attempts to smack him funny. Not so much now and you’d hit him hard enough for your palm to sting. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes watering.

• Huffing, he grabs your wrist to inspect your little hand. “Must you be so difficult?” He grouses as you try to tug free. Had you damaged yourself? It’d serve you right even as it doesn’t sit right with him. Grip gentle, he manipulates your little fingers, not really sure that he can tell if something is wrong, but also oddly fascinated. Five fingers just like his own servos, but so delicate compared to his hands. “I suppose if my plating was stripped away leaving only protoarmor, I wouldn’t like someone prodding at me,” he mutters as you blink up at him. Your expression going blank as he lets go of your hand to adjust the cloth around your shoulders. Covering you better.

• It’s as close to an apology as you’re likely to get and feeling brave, you catch his hand before he can pull away. His wings flick up aggressively and you drop your eyes, waiting for him to snarl at you. But he doesn’t. When you peek at his face, he’s just frowning while his wings do that weird little tremor you associate with anger or stress. But which? Dropping your eyes again, you study his big hand and wonder. His face, his expressions, they’re all too human. A lot of it is probably just seeing what you want to see, because Stockholm’s, but as he allows you to turn his hand over and you line up your much smaller palm in his, you can’t help but smile, because it’s like they’re almost made to fit together.

• What are you doing? Frame tense, he watches you press your palm to his, lining up your fingers with his servos like you’re curious about him. But he’s only aware of the warmth of you against his frame, the softness of your hand pressed to his. Of how incongruent, but strangely right this seems. But then his door is sliding open and he stiffens as Soundwave slips inside.

• Even with his face hidden by the visor and mask, the sheer disapproval in that stare is a physical, oppressive thing. And fury sparks through Starscream even as he shifts back to his full size as fast as possible. One hand grabbing the human and pinning you to his chassis even as the strain of using so much energy so quickly saps him, his processor feeling like it’s splitting open. He bares his denta at the other mech, wings trembling in rage. “Get out.”

Previous Next

They’re taking over…

[penny-anna]

hi guys!! guess who got more transformers fic recs!! including some WEIRD SHIT!!

Electric Chapel by DesdemonaKaylose

You are cordially invited to the WEDDING of our esteemed LORD MEGATRON and SOME LITTLE GUY HE FOUND IN A BOX.

Megatron attempts to marry Rung. Rung is highly desirable. Skywarp and Thundercracker eat teacups. delightful.

Working Through It by Trinary

“TC,” Skywarp says, “I’m, like, ninety percent sure that humans don’t have interface cables.” Thundercracker squawks and almost knocks him over trying to get the script out of his hands.

robot/robot/human threeway w plug n play interfacing. GOOD robot action.

they say some things just don't wash out by harperuth

The data continued to coalesce with every passing moment he could watch Rodimus and still he couldn’t come to a conclusion. By all accounts it didn’t make any sense. - - - Or, Ultra Magnus struggles to understand Rodimus and his unorthodox fueling habits.

nice little UM and Rod fic!!!

Creep Down the Alleyway, Fly Down the Highway by Nathrakh_Red

Tracks was laughing in a way that’d be sarcastic if it was anyone else, in a way that might’ve ruffled Raoul's feathers if he hadn’t gotten used to the fact that Tracks laughed like a wealthy woman drank— haughtily, self-possessed, and so as not to cause wrinkles. Two different Tracks/Raoul fics!

WAUGHHH!! *biting and chewing these two*

Feel How It Feels by autoschediastic

But Optimus said, "That would be helpful," and a weirdly pleasant warmth spread through Lennox's gut.

some good transformer & human content for u

don't mean to brag, but my bandwidth is fat by harperuth

“Kid,” Ratchet ex-vented, “Did you listen to anything I just said?” Tailgate’s visor flashed, for just a klik. First Aid almost thought it was a trick of the light, “Big war, modified interface arrays, do I want one, et cetera. I listened. And I said no.”

tailgate hot girl summer

Spike Seeks Valve by Baird Crevan (Baird)

“Your name.  Is.  Spike,” Skywarp repeated.  “Yes, that’s what I said!  I am Spike, ally to the Autobots, the defenders of Earth!” Skywarp trembled a little and made a weird giggling noise.  “Uh, wow.  That’s.  Erm, sorry Jazz, I gotta… I gotta steal your Spike.”

i already recced this one but my GOD is it funny

Bottom of the Line by Trinary

Skyfire’s been pining over his lab partner for too long. He could swear Starscream has a thing for him, too, but when they finally get together, it doesn’t go like he expects. Skyfire’s always been told the cold constructed were missing something. He just didn’t think it was this.

u like skystar?? TOP tier skystar right here. recommend watching 'fire in the sky' first if u haven't seen it. for full impact.

how to get away with murder by OccasionalStorytelling

First Aid: You want me to treat you like you’re disposable? I don’t know what kind of data I could have you analyze for me— Rewind: I want you to treat me like I’ve been disposed of. There’s a distinction. The only problem is, they get caught.

we are getting into the weird shit now!! heed the warnings on this one. outstandingly weird n messed up. i love Rewind.

For Educational Purposes Only by keelywolfe

no ao3 summary on this one. bayverse. Sam & Mikaela fuck in front of Ratchet for uhh research. i must stress that this fic is primarily about Ratchet and Mikaela matching each other's freak. i love when Mikaela gets to be a little weirdo.

Viviparity by nine_dandelion

Some things have never been within the purview of mechanical beings, but Cybertronians have always been adaptable. When Ratchet discovers a newly-ignited spark growing inside Rodimus, though, he finds his abilities (and patience) tested.

my friend sent me this one and i was like 'why are u sending me mechpreg' (she knows how i feel about mechpreg) and she was like no no trust me you'll like this one u know what?? she was right. go check it out.

The Way to a Mech's Spark (Is Through His Fuel Tank) by Trinary

Starscream and Skyfire set off on their first Academy mission, and Starscream doesn’t consider the logistics of fuel until much, much too late. Skyfire isn’t keeping it in cubes—it’s in his auxiliary tanks, and there’s only one way to get it out. Starscream’s plating heats just thinking of it. He knows he can’t ask without embarrassing himself. He can make the whole trip without refueling, right?

FABULOUS living robot spaceship specific kink. love it.

ok that's all for now!! wahoo!!!